Sweaty, Sexy Ron and the Trouble with Twins

A/N: This chapter takes place several weeks after Chapter 6.

96. 97. 98. 99.

Ron's abdomen was in agony. Sweat poured from his forehead, sometimes dropping into his eyes. It stung.

He clenched his jaw, pouring every ounce of energy he had into his last pushup.

100.

Grunting from the exertion, Ron's elbows buckled and he fell chest first onto the soft, cool grass of the Hogwarts grounds. His shirtless form welcomed the contrast to his overheated body.

For three weeks, Ron had been eating, sleeping, attending classes and training.

Nothing else.

Five mile runs in the morning, followed by upper body workouts in the afternoon before dinner, and then goalkeeping practice after dinner with the help of Harry, Ginny, and Angelina.

On the weekends he ran six miles and maintained the upper body portion of his workout, but abstained from Keeper practice because he, like everyone else, had homework to contend with.

He was beginning to wonder if it was worth it.

Sure, he'd wanted to be a Keeper for as long as he could remember, dreaming of eventually becoming Captain and strategizing his way to a House cup.

It had been a desire for so long, and he knew that if he kept it up, he had a good shot at making it.

But recently, a new desire was overshadowing everything else in his life.

Hermione.

The whole goal of his scheme was to win her heart, but he didn't think he stood a chance in hell if he never got to see her.

Breakfast. Lunch. Class. That was pretty much the extent of their relationship at this point.

He liked to look at her during their lessons. She was always so transfixed on the lecture, she never noticed his stare.

She would nibble on her quill as she listened, and then, just a bit of her tongue would appear out of the corner of her mouth as she scribbled notes.

God, the things that tongue did to him.

More than once, Harry had to elbow Ron in order to bring his attention back to class.

Of course, it never lasted long. Hermione was too much of a temptation.

And then she wondered why he was always asking to borrow her notes.

If he ever got the guts to blurt out why he was unable to pay attention in class, he was sure she'd be scandalized.

In truth, Ron was a bit scandalized himself.

Ever since he had decided on this plan of action in order to get Hermione to fall for him, he'd been having particularly vivid dreams.

The Hermione he'd encountered in them was a great deal less prissy, with a distinct lack of propriety as well.

She also possessed a great deal less clothes….which Ron certainly didn't mind.

If real Hermione had the same assets under her robes as his dream Hermione, well, it was probably better not to think of it,

lest he lost all control one night, threw her up against the closest common room wall, and shagged her like there was no tomorrow.

Ron rolled over onto his back, looking up at the sky as he contemplated that image.

The common room would be empty, of course. And it would be night time, real late.

Harry, after being beat horribly in a round of chess with Ron, would say goodnight and go to bed, leaving him and Hermione alone.

She would be studying, as usual.  He would begin packing away his chess set, glancing up at her ever so often.

One of those times, she would catch his gaze, returning it with a look of passion.

In his dream, not only would he be not surprised, but he would throw her a sexy grin and beckon her to him with his finger.

She would of course, come to him, swaying her hips sensuously.

He would tell her to take off her robes, and she would comply, slowly.  Provocatively.

Falling to her knees, she would part the folds of his robes until she reached the fastening of his trous-

A smack to the back of his head quickly brought him out of his fantasy.

Stunned, Ron whipped his head round and saw Fred and George above him, grinning like idiots.

"What the hell was that for?" Ron muttered, rubbing his poor, slightly injured skull.

"Well, mate," George began, "We didn't want that monster of yours getting any bigger and blowing your trousers clear off."

Ron glanced down, then immediately blushed a dark red. He quickly got to his feet, grabbing his shirt and draping it around his neck.

"Ha, ha, very funny." Ron wasn't particularly embarrassed, especially considering similar instances he'd inadvertently caught the twins in.

One nasty surprise had involved the upstairs Burrow bathroom, a picture of Angelina in her Quidditch robes taped to a wall, and Fred, "self-servicing."

Since then, he hadn't feared Fred and George as much as he once had. Fred's face in shock and mid-pleasure was one that Ron could never forget, and never fail to laugh at.

Lucky for him George shared the same face, so it was easy to picture both in that same situation.

Even now, Ron had to try hard to keep the corners of his mouth from turning up into a huge grin.

Fred and George fell in beside him as they began the trek back to Hogwarts.

After a minute of watching them give each other pointed looks, Ron sighed and asked curtly, "What's going on?"

Fred raised his eyebrow, then motioned to George a bit.

After clearing his throat, George met Ron's eyes.

"A little bird told us about your….situation."

Ron knew immediately what he meant.

Resigned to his current inability to make a run for it,

Ron muttered a bit despondently, "How did you two find out?"

On Ron's left, Fred patted him on the shoulder and remarked,

"Not what's important, mate.  What is important is the fact that we, the Terrific Twinsome Twosome, or Triple T if you prefer, are going to help you get the girl." 

Horrific visions suddenly sprang into Ron's mind. 

Candies that would permanently attach Hermione's body to his own (well, that one wouldn't be too bad).

Fizzy drinks that would make him unable to speak anything but the words "I love you, Hermione."

Enchanted quills that wrote 'Hermione Granger-Weasley' whenever they were put to parchment.

Ron decided to quit his imaginings while he was still sane.

He began to walk faster, attempting to put some distance between himself and the twins.

"Uhhh, thanks anyway guys, but I think I can take care of it on my own."

Fred and George snorted in unison, like they did most everything else.

"Oh, really?" Fred's tone made clear his disbelief of Ron's statement. "What exactly, are you doing to take care of it?"

Ron replied heatedly, "Bloody well and plenty, Fred! I haven't mentioned that prat Krum's name in weeks, I don't bother her when he writes her letters, and I never, ever mention Bulgaria."

George chuckled. "Well, you were mighty quick on the uptake for that one, hmmm?"

Ron huffed. He quickly moved on, because he himself realized that he had been more at fault for that particular situation than he wanted to admit.

"I don't make fun of her for the fifty books she carries around all the time.  I don't complain when she spends 12 hours a day at the library, and I don't tell her off when she nags Harry and I to do homework that isn't due for a month."

Ron's voice was rising steadily as they reached the main door of Hogwarts.

"When she helps me with my work, I tell her thank you. I've stopped cursing- well, at least, when she's around to hear. I've stopped making fun of professors, especially Snape.

I don't ask to copy her work. I'm trying to show some ambition by paying attention in class, and I'm working my arse off to make Keeper! I'm doing everything I can!"

George put a hand out to prevent Ron from walking towards the first floor staircase.

"So, then. That's what you think she wants? A carbon copy of herself?" Fred shook his head slowly, trying to hide his exasperation with his little brother.

For once, Fred was entirely serious.

"Listen to me, Ron. And listen good. A girl like Mione doesn't need a boring Perfect Percy type. She needs a man who can balance her own personality.

If she cares for you, it's because you're yourself, not someone putting on an act to please her.

How is she supposed to react now that you've suddenly changed your whole personality, especially if who you are is exactly what she wants?"

Ron's eyes narrowed as he speculated on the true impetus behind this chat.

"Do you…did she say something? About me? How I've been acting lately?"

Fred grinned widely. George purposely looked down at his hand and proceeded to pick a fingernail.

When they didn't reply for a full minute, Ron nodded slowly in understanding of their silence.

Stuttering a bit, Ron managed to get out, "C-can you t-tell me if she, well, I mean, if she…….fancies me a bit?"

George and Fred began to move towards the Great Hall door. As they reached the entrance, George's voice rang out.

"Now, now, Ronniekins…..you know we never do anything without reason, especially if it involves being all serious and, well, nice to you."

Their laughter faded away as Ron stood, contemplating the meaning of George's words.

Shaking his head slightly, he began ascending the staircase toward the Gryffindor Common room.

Coming to a halt by the Fat Lady, he murmured, "Friddly Wickets."

The painting swung to the side and he proceeded through, but not before hearing the Fat Lady's voice trill out, "Very nice, love!"

He couldn't help but grin. He considered putting his shirt back on, but quickly nixed the idea, figuring he'd just have to take it off again in two minutes once he reached the showers.

The common room was deserted, and rightly so. Everyone else was surely at dinner, and Ron's suddenly grumbling stomach reminded him to get moving so he could be eating as well.

Walking towards his dormitory, thinking of raspberry tarts and pumpkin juice, Ron failed to notice the figure walking approaching him, head bowed down.

"Oof!"

Recovering quickly from the collision, Ron instinctively reached out, grabbing the person in order to prevent their fall. A heavy tome fell to the ground with a thud.

Neither Ron nor Hermione noticed.

"Sorry, R-," Hermione cut off abruptly, and Ron watched in amazement as her gaze met his chest (which was at her eye level anyway) and her face began to flush.

She blinked rapidly, shaking her head back and forth as if to clear it.

She began to back up abruptly, stopping only when her back slapped against a wall.

"I- uh, I was just….uhmm, reading and, well, so sorr- sorry, not paying, I mean, wasn't looking, well I was looking at your ch-, but, well, before that,

obviously you know that, I already said I was reading….so, anyway…..uhmm, see you at dinner. Bye!"

With that, Hermione darted around Ron and ran for the exit.

Several moments passed. Thoughtfully, Ron bent down and picked up the book she'd been reading, placing it on a nearby table.

Climbing the steps, he entered the boys dormitory, grabbing some toiletries and heading toward the shower.

Stripping off his sweatpants and boxers, he entered the shower and turned on the showerhead, deciding on a temperature a bit colder than his usual.

As he begun to soap up his body, he pondered Hermione's strange reaction. Her eyes had practically bugged out as she stared at his chest.

Her face had become flushed, and Hermione, practical, level headed Hermione, had actually stuttered.

This could only mean one thing.

She liked what she saw.  She wanted him.

Ron began to whistle a light tune as he moved his entire head under the water's flow.

Maybe the twins were right, Ron mused.  It was within the realm of reason that Hermione could want him, as is, without all the behavior modification.

It seemed that a plan adjustment was in order.

End Chapter 7

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Thanks everyone who has reviewed so far! I should have an update to my other story, Lunch Break, up on Checkmated.com by the weekend!