Summer Love by: Bonunga
Chapter 1: Dirty Laundry
Ron sat at the window of his cluttered bedroom and gazed out at the colorful summer sunset. It was just the day after he left Hogwarts, and already he was bored out of his mind. Fred and George were always at work, Percy showing up at the Burrow was a laughable idea, Bill and Charlie were always on top-secret Order work and Ginny was spending a few weeks at a friend's home. That left just Ron, his parents and Phlegm. Pathetically, Ron had already written to Hermione and Harry three times, filled with complaints and hollow suicide threats. He hadn't recieved a letter back from either friend, and was heavily considering writing another for each of them.
Ron pulled out his ink and quill, with a fresh piece of parchment. He tore the parchment in half, one piece for Harry and the other for Hermione. As he began to scribble the words "Dear Harry", the shrill voice of his mother, Mrs. Weasley, shattered the silence, "Ronald! Dinner is on the table!"
Ron rolled his eyes and put his things away, ambling down the steps towards the kitchen. When he got there, he saw only his mother and Fleur sitting at the table. The two of them looked up at him as he took his seat, then maintained their gaze until Ron noticed.
"What?" Ron said irritably, as the women returned their gaze to their plates, as if they were innocent.
"Nothing dear, we were just admiring how much you've grown since you left for Hogwarts back in September" Mrs. Weasley said, her voice thick with emotion for her baby boy.
"Oh, come off it Mum!" Ron said, his ears turning a delicate shade of pink as Fleur stifled a laugh.
"Oh fine then," Molly said as she violently stabbed her chicken, "I guess you don't need your old, embarrassing mother."
Ron expected his mother to lay a guilt trip on him, so he just ignored it and continued to slide his mashed potatoes across his plate. He hadn't had much of an appetite since Dumbledore's death. His mother always gave him looks of pity and constantly offered for them to sit and "express their feelings". This annoyed Ron more than anything. He was not a little boy, and he didn't need his mother to play shrink.
Ron snapped back to the kitchen when his mother yelled at him. "Quit playing with your food, you're not four!" she said, then continued her conversation with Fleur.
Ron mumbled to himself and quietly dropped his food onto the floor, where the dog was more than happy to clean it up. He got out of his seat and put his plate into the sink. Just as he was about to climb the steep stairs, the voice of his mother slammed into him like a ton of bricks.
"Ronald Bilius Weasley!" she yelled. Ron turned around to see what crisis he had created now.
"Yes mother?" he asked sweetly, mockingly putting on an innocent disposition.
"Don't you act all innocent! That mangy mutt of yours has dragged the food you gave him around the kitchen. Not only have I told you about allowing that fleabag into my home, but I've also told you about wasting the food I give you!"
Ron sat down and got comfortable, this could be a while. As he sat indian-style in the spot he was stopped, a sudden wrench on his ear forced him into a standing position. He looked to the side, expecting to see his mother's red face and perpetually open mouth, but instead he saw Fleur Delacour's angry, and yet still beautiful visage.
"How dare you disrespect your muzza like zat, vhy in my old country, if ve did zat ve vould be tied to a post outside and beaten vis a cane!" Fleur yelled, only adding to the already dangerously loud sounds that boomed through the rickity shack.
Ron couldn't believe this. Now Fleur was gonna play mommy, just because he didn't kiss his real mother's ass! Ron hated how close Fleur and Molly had grown since Dumbledore's death. Now they were double-teaming him over a small mess in the kitchen. Ron's dog stalked behind the infuriated women with a chicken bone hanging from it's mouth. Ron glared daggers at the dog, forming a plot to sacrifice the animal so that he could kill his mother and Phlegm without being caught.
After Ron was forced to clean the kitchen three times, he slipped past Fleur and snuck up to his room to avoid any more confrontations. Ron plopped on his bed and laid back. He was so mad at everything! No one to talk to and two women with severe problems liviing under his roof. Although Fleur's veela-ish anger came through her every now and then, her beauty stayed there all the time. Ron couldn't stay angry with Fleur for long, and they would probably be laughing together in the morning.
The mere thought of Fleur's silky blonde hair made the crotch of Ron's pants bulge. In his mind, he saw Fleur waving her beautiful hair around just for him. She would laugh and giggle, motioning for Ron to come to her with her finger. Ron rubbed his bulge, thinking of Fleur slowly removing her shirt and smiling, her pale breasts covered only by a small bra.
Ron pulled his pants and boxers off, and pulled his blanket around him. He laid on his back and looked at his member, sticking up through the covers. He closed his eyes and watched Fleur pull off her tiny skirt and stand there, in langerie, just for him. Ron rubbed himself and tightened his legs, so that the feeling was more intense. Fleur slowly removed her bra, and her breasts fell out of it gracefully. She gently massaged her breasts and licked her lips for him.
Ron rubbed the tip of his erection and gently did the same for the shaft. He used the other hand to gently caress his balls and rub his thighs, switching from one action to the other. Fleur pulled off her panties and rubbed herself, moaning melodramaticaly. She then ran her hands down the entirety of her beautiful body, slowly. She rubbed her vagina and began to moan 'Ron, Ron, Ron'.
Ron was snapped back to reality by Fred's voice, "Ron! What are you doing?"
Ron looked up at Fred and George, who were standing beside his bed, smiling.
"I think he's staining his sheets Fred, don't you?" George said, not bothering to hold the laughter from his voice.
"Well, judging from his massive boner and his peaceful expression, I'd say yea." Fred said.
Then in unison, the twins called out, "Mum, Ron's staining his sheets!"
Ron desperately tried to hush them as he reached for his pants and boxers in the floor next to the bed. George quickly grabbed his clothes before he could, as Fred pulled the covers off of Ron, who had let his defense down trying to get his clothes. Ron quickly covered his erection and his ears and face burned a deep shade of magenta.
George looked at Fred and laughed, "Well Fred, I've never seen his face so red, I believe our work here is done."
Fred agreed, then the two tossed the clothing and bedding back to Ron and left the room, mockingly moaning "Fleur, Fleur, ohh!"
Ron put his clothes back on and scorned himself for not keeping a better watch on his surroundings. He prayed that they didn't tell Mum, but prayed even more that they didn't tell Fleur. Just as Ron finished redressing, his mother came into his room, asking what Fred and George were yelling about. Ron convinced her that they were complaining about Ron's messy room, knowing that Molly would agree that Ron's room was a pig sty and understand their distress.
After the potential disaster was averted, kinda, Ron laid back in bed and went to sleep before anymore thoughts of Fleur entered his mind. 'Teen hormones' he thought as he drifted to sleep.