DISCLAIMER:  Anything you recognized belongs to JK (I'll get book five out when I'm good and ready) Rowling.  I do own the aged computer this was written on.  I would be more than willing to make a trade….

I am giving this fic a rating of R for later chapters.  R for restricted, responsible for your actions and read something else if you are not mature enough to handle adult themes.  You should know better anyway.

Warning – Fic earns rating here.

Author's Notes - To everyone who gave me such wonderful reviews, I thank you.  Please note several Fic sites are under attack and there is always a chance this story or others will get pulled off these sites. Please make note of where else this fic is archived on the 'just in case.'  No matter where you read it, please send me reviews.  They keep me motivated.

CHAPTER SEVEN - The Subtle Science And Exact Art That is Cooking Or What is that Smell?

"Whose brilliant idea was it for us to cook dinner?"  Ron Weasley looked at the mass of groceries sprawled out before him.  "And we're supposed to turn this into what exactly."

"First of all, it was your idea to get Harry and Ginny together, so while they are out for a nice, long, romantic walk gathering wood for the fireplace we will be preparing a delicious meal.  We have been here a week and nothing as happened, forcing them to spent time alone should move things along nicely.   And for your information it's going to be a lasagna."

For fear of being hexed beyond impotency, Ron refrained from laughing.  "Do you know how to make a lasagna? Shouldn't we start with something easier?"

"I've been through a dozen cookbooks and found several recipes.  How hard can it be?"

"Hermione, you brunt toast yesterday.  Perhaps this is not the best idea."

"I did not burn the toast.  I told you I like it well done."

"Well done!?!  It turned into dust when you bit into it."

"It was just extra crispy."

"And black.  Extra crispy and black."

"Can we just drop the toast thing?  I can't help it if you have faulty equipment here.  I'm telling you this will not be so hard.  The book has pictures for Merlin's sake, even you can understand them."

"Wouldn't you be better off using magic.  There are spells you know….."

"I. Do. Not. Need. To. Use. Spells.  If I could translate the equations that may eventually lead to a cure for lycanthropy I could certainly follow a simple recipe and cook a lasagna."

Two hours later, they both stood looking into the pan." It doesn't quite look like the picture does it?"

"Shut up Ron."

He smiled at her.  Hermione Granger was not used to failing at something.  What kind of friend would he be if he did not take complete advantage of the situation and use it to ridicule Hermione for the rest of her life?  What are friends for after all?

 "Maybe we could just cover it in sauce and cheese and no one will know."

"Shut up Ron."

"I mean, unless they actually try to eat it or something….Is it supposed to smell like that."

A frying pan was sent hurdling across the room, missing Ron's head by millimeters as it smashed into the wall behind him.  "Oh sure, that you'll use magic for."

The toaster followed the frying pan.

"Sure, destroy the evidence so one can figure out what really happened to the toast.  You are devious aren't you."

"That's it, Ron if you speak one more word I will…"  She pointed her wand.  But, before she could finish her sentence Ron leapt forward grabbing her by the wrist and taking her wand.  He pulled her in close.  "You'll what?" He mocked.

"Ronald Arthur Weasley, you let me go this instant.  Don't think your Auror training will be enough to stop me from pummeling you.  Let me go now!"

He watched her as she tried to pull her arm away.  She was never more beautiful as she was at that moment; her hair was quickly coming out of the clasp that held it down, her eyes were wild and irate, and a flush of deep crimson awash across her cheeks.  He knew he was in for a world of trouble if he let go.  But then again why would he want to let go. "I don't think I will."

Hermione was apoplectic.  "What do you mean you don't think you will?  I don't remember giving you options.  Get your hands off me."

"No." His eyes darkened as he simply smiled.  Without any explanation, he threw her wand across the room and put his hands around her waist as he lifted her onto the table.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm not sure really, but sometimes you just have to say what the hell."  And before she could respond he leaned in further and kissed her.

It took her a minute to realize that Ron Weasley, the love of her life and the bane of her existence was kissing her.  It took slightly longer for it to register that this was not the kiss of a best buddy.  This was the kiss of a  man  who was ready to devour her starting at her mouth and greedily consuming her very being.  After that it was really a matter of nanoseconds for her to kiss him back matching his intensity and rivaling his strength.

She brought her hands up to his head and wrapped her legs around his waist as his hands snaked behind her and pulled her in towards him.  His mouth attacked hers, frantically pulsing his tongue in and out in a fevered rush.  Suddenly the room became unbearably hot and their clothes, incredibly constricting.  She ripped off his pull-over and undershirt revealing the smooth chest she fantasized about in the wee small hours of the night.  Of their own volition, her hands began stoking his shoulders, coasting over his chest and running down his torso, lingering at the soft patch of hair on his abdomen.  She was rewarded with shivers that seemed to start where her hand twirled the ginger curls in her fingers and ended with his lips which had refused to leave their current location.

When she raked her nails across his hips he lost all sense of reason.  Unable to hold off any longer Ron brought his hands to Hermione's blouse and began to unbutton it.   He managed to unfasten the entire blouse in seconds without ripping a single button.  In the back of her mind, Hermione felt she should be appalled by that ability and the proficiency with which he preformed it, but as that part tried to protest the other ninety seven percent of her mind was screaming 'Shut up, can't you feel what this boy is doing with his mouth.'

His warm hand stroked her sides as he eased his way past her underclothes and onto her breasts.  'The boy has talent……oh my…'  The rest of that thought was lost as a languid thumb rubbed over her hardened nipples.  The gentle machinations of his fingers were a direct contrast to the  fierceness of his kiss and the combination was enough to make Hermione's head spin.  That annoying part of her brain began to act up again.  'And where the Hell did he learn to do that.'  As Ron then softly pinched her nipple with his thumb and forefinger in a maneuver that set every part of her body on fire, the rest of her brain was prepared to award certificates of merit to the party that assisted in his training.  'My God, he should have been valedictorian.'

He finally ripped his lips away from hers but only so she could latch them onto the breasts that somehow became exposed as Hermione found herself topless.  She was wondering when Ron had learned to do wandless magic when his mouth found its destination and her entire brain, including that little annoying part in the back that really tried to sabotage the evening, was rejoicing.

The fierceness of his kiss was replaced by the savoring of her breast.  Slowly, almost painfully so, he lathed her nipples for what seemed like an eternity.  He paused only long enough to run his tongue up and down her torso as he attempt to taste every inch of exposed skin.  He found his way to her neck, where he attached himself to the spot where the neck and shoulder met placing firm bites all along the ridge while his hand returned to her breasts, cupping them and caressing them in the same slow rhythm.

She was on the verge of exploding and as amazing as it all felt, she needed more.  She reached her slightly shaking hand down to his groin and began to rub in earnest.  The hardness she found there and the moan which escaped his mouth at her touch told her he wanted it as much as she did.

The slow pace was now superceded by two pairs of hands frantically trying to undress each other. Hermione was tugging on the clasp of Ron's jeans when they heard a knock at the door.

"Who the hell…."  Ron was visibly furious.

"Just ignore them." Hermione was pleading.

The knocking became more insistent.  "Let me get rid of them."  Ron quickly got dressed and fixed his hair before going to the door.

Hermione remained propped up on the table, half naked and completely flustered as she listened to find out who had the nerve to interrupt what she had been waiting for since third year of Hogwarts.

Just then the shrill screech of hell's siren filled the room, "SURPRISE RONNY DARLING."

Marie Elena was in town.