Warning: This chapter is rated R due to its strong sexual content. While not graphic enough to warrant an NC-17 rating, at times it is quite explicit. It is definitely NOT suitable reading material for children, or those that are sensitive or easily offended. All of the sexual content is contained in the flashback portion of the chapter, which is italicized and therefore easy to skip over if that is your desire. Those of you who decide this chapter is not something you should read, don't need to worry about missing anything overly important to the storyline.
Chapter 24
Ginny couldn't help but laugh at her bushy haired friend as she stood there, gaping at herself in the mirror, a look of utmost horror plastered across her face."NO! No! No," Hermione chanted, as if denying what she saw would make it go away. "I specifically told him not to leave any marks there," she cried, while fingering the large red blotch on her neck. "Oh God! This is awful," she moaned, gathering her hair to one side, and covering the mark with it, before turning around to face Ginny again.
"That will never work," Ginny managed to get out before she dissolved into another wave of laughter. "Not unless you plan on holding your hair in place all day. That thing was practically glowing when I woke up. Someone is bound to see it."
"Oh, shut up," Hermione groaned, her face flushing a color that was a shade or two lighter than Ron's token. Ginny had been teasing her mercilessly ever since she'd woken up. Even so, it had taken nearly five minutes of ribbing before Hermione finally looked in the mirror and realized how bad the situation truly was. "Oh God," she moaned, as it suddenly dawned on her that Ginny was nothing but a warm up act for her brothers. " I can't go down to breakfast like this."
"You're going to have to come down sometime," Ginny chuckled. "And when you do she's going to see it. It's better to face the music now and get it out of the way. She might even feel sorry for you once Fred and George have a go at you."
"I'M GOING TO KILL RON!" Hermione growled.
"You didn't leave any marks on him, did you?" Ginny asked, knowing that if she had, the twins would likely target him first.
"Of course not," Hermione replied. "What kind of idiot leaves something like this in plain sight?"
"Well, you've always known Ron was a bit of an idiot," Ginny snickered. "You've got no one to blame but yourself, really."
"You're not helping, Ginny."
"You want help?" Ginny asked, grabbing Hermione by the arm and dragging her out the bedroom door. "Then come on and let's get it over with."
"No. Wait," Hermione protested. She just needed a little time to think. If she just had a few minutes, she might be able to come up with a logical excuse for the bruise on her neck. A logical excuse. That's all she needed. Such a simple thing really. There must be one. If she just had a moment to think she was sure she'd come up with something.
"It's no good putting it off," Ginny said, tugging her down the hall. "Hiding will just make it worse," she continued. "Trust me. Best thing you can do is go down there as if you didn't have a care in the world and take whatever those two throw at you. If they see fear in your eyes, you're dead."
She knew that Ginny was right. Hermione wasn't entirely sure how long these types of bruises lasted, but she knew it was longer than she could stay holed up in her room. If she missed breakfast, Mrs. Weasley would come looking for her and worse, Fred and George would know she had been hiding. She wasn't about to give them the satisfaction. She'd have to face them. That was all there was to it. Unfortunately, she was going to have to face them a bit earlier than she'd expected.
"What are you two doing?" Ginny asked, as she nearly ran into Fred who was stalled on the stairs looking over the railing.
"Shush," George replied, leaning over the rail beside his brother. "Snape's down there," he whispered.
"So why aren't you?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah," Ginny agreed. "You're both members of the Order, aren't you? If they're having a meeting, why aren't you down there?"
"Whatever that slimy git's up to is a big bloody secret," Fred whispered back.
"Need to know basis only," George added. "You understand?"
"Meaning Mum doesn't think you two need to know," Ginny replied.
"Right in one," George congratulated his sister. "DAMN! He's gone. Did you hear anything useful?" he asked Fred as he retracted the extendable ear he had been using to eavesdrop.
"Nope," his brother replied. "And there goes McGonagall and Shacklebolt. Guess we won't be getting anything useful from them either," Fred added, pulling the flesh colored string out of his ear and turning around to look at the girls. "BLOODY HELL, HERMIONE!" Fred cried, as he spotted the unsightly blemish on her neck.
George immediately spun around to see what his brother was shouting about and felt his eyes go wide, when they locked on Hermione. Without even thinking about what he was doing, George grabbed her head and cocked it to the side to allow them a better view of her neck. "Did you have a run in with a Vampire last night?" he snickered.
"Oh, shut up!"
"She might not use a stake on him," Ginny replied sarcastically as she watched Hermione shove George away from herself, "but he'll be just as dead when he comes down to breakfast."
"CRIKEY!" Fred said, following his declaration up with an appreciative whistle.
"That's some impressive work," George chuckled, pulling his wand out and pointing it at Hermione. "But we can't let Mum see it," he added, flicking his wand at the scarlet mark before she had a chance to object.
Hermione's hand closed over the spot and the instant she felt the burn. But it dissipated after a moment, taking Ron's love bite with it.
"Got anymore?" George asked, his wand still in hand.
"One or two," Hermione replied quickly. "But they're in places you're never going to see."
"HO!" Fred cried out. "Atta boy, Ronnie."
"PIG!" Ginny exclaimed, as if she had been insulted.
"No, owls don't leave marks like that, Gin," George laughed, pocketing his wand and heading down to breakfast. "Pigwidgeon didn't bite her. His master did."
"How did you do that?" Hermione asked, as she followed the twins down the stairs. "I've never heard of a spell that can remove...."
"Your basic healing spell with a bit of a twist," Fred replied before she had a chance to finish. "All it took was a bit of practicing on each other to work out the kinks."
"What do you want to bet," Ginny whispered into Hermione's ear, "that they practiced giving each other the marks too?"
"OY! I heard that," Fred cried, moments after the two girls started to giggle.
"Didn't deny it though, did you?" Ginny shot back.
"Well," Hermione laughed, "they do seem to practice everything else on each other."
"HEY NOW!" George cried out as if his pride had been wounded. "That's the last time I do you a favor."
"George?" Hermione said, sobering up almost immediately. "Thanks."
"Don't go getting the wrong idea," he replied, brushing her gratitude aside in a lighthearted manner. "If Mum had seen that, we'd be stuck minding you two again."
"So no footsies under the table. Got it?" Fred added.
"And for Merlin's sakes, keep your fingers out of the jam."
....................
As the rest of his family congregated in the kitchen, Ron Weasley could be found, lying flat on his back in a tangle of bed sheets, his freckled face awash with sunlight. How the morning rays managed to burn their way through the grime covering the windows of his third floor bedroom, he couldn't begin to understand. He welcomed the warmth, but did it have to be so damn bright? It was instinct which prompted him to cover his eyes with his forearm as he fought off the last vestiges of sleep.
He had no idea what time it was. All he knew for certain was that he wasn't ready to abandon the comforts of his bed. He'd been having the most spectacular dream before he was so rudely awakened. But fate seemed to be conspiring against him. Big surprise there. He was thwarted even in his dreams. Always on the verge, but somehow never able to complete the act.
Stifling a yawn, Ron gave up the fight, and opened his eyes. He didn't need to look down at the tented sheets to know the condition he was in. It was a common morning occurrence. So common in fact, that his roommates at Hogwarts affectionately referred to the condition as "morning glory." How Dean and Seamus could get dressed while discussing their "morning glories" and the dreams which inspired them, without dying of mortification, was beyond him. There were times Ron was almost certain they did it on purpose just to see him blush.
Bloody prats. Trying to drag me into the conversation so they can trick me into talking about my dreams. Even I'm not THAT thick. Of course, the fact that he'd once caught Seamus going through that ridiculous dream diary Trelawney made him keep helped clue him in on their ultimate motivation. He'd found it hilarious really, and as every single one of the dreams in the blasted diary was made up, he'd simply backed out of the room and left Seamus to it. Little did he know that they already knew who he was dreaming about. His tendency to talk in his sleep had given him away.
Fortunately, Ron had forgotten about that recent revelation. Not that it really mattered at this point, seeing as how he had a room to himself. There was no one around to hear him if he cried out one of his best friend's names as he slept. There was no one there in the morning when he woke up either, which meant that he didn't have to abandon the warmth of his bed and subject himself to a cold shower. He could lie there as long as he wanted and moll over his dreams, or even better, the events of the night before. What happened last night was real and if he thought about it long enough, he might just be able to burn it into his memory with crystal clear accuracy. Laying back against his pillow, his eyes closed, Ron began to replay the encounter over in his mind.
....................
He had been more then a little surprised when she allowed him to steer her back towards the bed. Granted, she had been the one to bolt the door this time, but he still hadn't been sure how to proceed.
For a split second, Ron had envisioned himself swiping all the rubbish off the top of the bureau, then lifting her up, and setting her down on top of it. With any luck she'd find the spontaneity of the act as arousing as he did. And if not, there was always the practical aspect. Setting her on top of the dresser would have placed her roughly at face level and made it possible to snog without leaning forward for an extended period of time. But he nixed the idea almost as soon as it popped into his head. It might seem like a grand romantic gesture, but knowing Hermione, she'd overlook that aspect and scold him for making a mess.
The last thing he wanted her to do was break away from him and start cleaning his room. So the dresser was out, which left option number two: the bed. She'd already vetoed it once, but it was worth another shot. After all, it hadn't been the bed she objected to, so much as what he wanted to do on the bed. As long as he didn't try that, there was no reason they couldn't snog there.
Amazingly enough, she seemed to agree with him. He pushed against her body hesitantly as they kissed, but she yielded willingly. She went to the bed without protest and then sat down with him of her own accord. Encouraged by her capitulation and the fact that her tongue was entrenched in his mouth, battling his own, he leaned back, pulling her down with him.
He moaned softly as he felt her weight settle on top of him. The bed had seemed like such a good idea moments before, but once he was lying there kissing her, in his bed, where he slept, where he dreamt about her, his trousers became painfully tight. It didn't matter that he knew they wouldn't be doing the things he'd dreamt about. Just because he couldn't make love to her, didn't mean he wasn't thinking about it. In fact, it was damn near all he could think about at that particular moment.
As he buried one hand in her hair and ran the other one up her back, he found himself thinking about how the position they'd been in easier and the way she had wrapped her legs around him. Even as he felt her weight press down on him, he was thinking about how easy it would be to roll over on top of her. The burning ache in his groin intensified as he imagined her legs encircling him again. Encircling him and pulling him into her.
Ron had to mentally pull himself back and remind himself again that it wasn't going to happen. Hermione had made that very clear. He told her he didn't mind waiting and he meant it, at that particular moment anyway. But, the longer they kissed, the harder it became for him to keep the promise he made to himself about not pressuring her. Of course, just because they couldn't make love, didn't mean they couldn't do other things.
Besides, she said she'd stop me if I did something she didn't want, he'd reminded himself, as he slipped his hand up her shirt and ran it along her back, halting when he reached the catch holding her bra closed. He'd wanted to unclasp it, but he wasn't sure how to go about doing it without looking like a blithering idiot.
Almost as if she knew he was thinking about ripping it to pieces, Hermione pushed against his chest, as she rolled off him, and sat up on her knees. Fearing that he'd upset her, Ron was set to apologize, but the words stuck in the throat as she pulled her shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor.
No longer sure what to say, or what to do for that matter, Ron just lay there and stared at her, his eyes wide with shock. For a few moments all he was able to do was watch her chest rise and fall.
The instant he searched out her eyes, Hermione covered her chest with one hand and reached behind her back with the other. Before he even had time to wonder what she was doing, the bra sprang open and the straps slid down her arms. Her hand was the only thing left holding the thin cotton barrier in place.
Ron had immediately come up on his elbows, his eyes dropping in anticipation. He'd stared at her hand eagerly, but to his disappointment, it didn't move. The moment he searched out her face again, he saw the hesitation. She looked nervous and appeared to be debating whether or not she really wanted to do this.
"It's ok, love," he said, sitting upright. "You don't have to..."
But she wasn't listening to him. Or perhaps she was, and his words had simply come too late. Because even as he spoke them, Hermione took a deep breath, shut her eyes and let the bra drop to the bed. Her eyes had remained closed, even when she felt the bed shift as Ron came up on his knees to study her.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that he shouldn't be ogling her in this fashion, but he couldn't seem to help himself. He knew he was making her uncomfortable, and yet he couldn't look away. It was the first time a woman had exposed herself to him and he was mesmerized by the vision before him. For a moment he had almost forgotten who he was looking at, and then it slammed home with blinding clarity. This wasn't just a woman, it was Hermione. Hermione had breasts. He'd known that of course, but knowing about them and imagining them were not the same as seeing them with his own eyes. Hermione had breasts and they were spectacular.
Before he even realized he was doing it, he had reached forward to touch her. Somehow he managed to catch himself at the last second, and his hand froze centimeters from her flesh.
"Can I?" he asked, in a hoarse voice that sounded alien to him.
Her eyes had immediately snapped open and locked on the hand suspended in front of her chest. For a moment she looked as if she might actually speak, but in the end she simply bit her lower lip tentatively and nodded her assent.
"You're so soft," he said, cupping her in one hand and stroking her gently with the other. "So beautiful."
When she didn't reply, he looked up into her face to make sure she was alright. She'd been uncharacteristically quiet since they reached the bed, but she didn't appear to be distressed. Now that she'd committed herself, the tentative air she seemed to have had been replaced with something else. Something he couldn't quite place. There was a serene look about her and yet at the same time there was so much more. There was acceptance and trust. It was evident in the way she had her eyes closed and her head tilted backwards, as she bared herself up to him.
It was that, more than anything else that stoked the fire burning deep within him. It harkened back to the things she said about him earlier and reinforced the fact that she really did want to be with him. The wonderful, beautiful, caring young woman, who was kneeling before him in all her glory, wanted him. She placed herself in a vulnerable position, because she trusted him. Not only with her heart, but with her body as well. It was the most exhilarating feeling he'd ever experienced. She was offering herself up to him, and by Merlin, he was going to take her. She was his and he was going to lay claim to every glorious inch she exposed.
Had Hermione's eyes been open, she would have seen his hesitancy give way as the passionate nature she'd caught a glimpse of in the past blazed its way to the forefront. But it wasn't until she felt his arms encircle her, and pull her to him with crushing force, that she discerned the change. By then his mouth had descended to her throat, rendering her into little more than a quivering mass in his arms.
The soft moans that had issued from Hermione's lips, only served to encourage him. Wrenching his mouth from her throat, he captured her lips and in an instant, she found herself lying flat on her back.
Rather than throw himself on top of her, as the ravenous beast inside him demanded, Ron settled down beside her and gave her a chance to protest. He might be caught up in a frenzy of lust, but she trusted him and he wasn't about to abuse that. He would push it as far as she allowed him, but the moment she balked, he was determined to rein himself in and stop.
Of course it would have been difficult for her to voice her objections with her mouth being occupied as it was. But her hands were still free and Ron had no doubt that she would use them to push him away if that was what she wanted.
For a moment she just lay there, as if in shock, and let him do as he pleased, then she reacted. Rather than push him away as he expected, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down on top of herself. She sighed contently, when his weight settled on her and almost instantly her hands began to wander. One, she buried in his thick red hair, while the other, plunged under his shirt and began to move gently up his back.
Without warning, he pulled away from her. Hermione's eyes had snapped open just in time to see him wrench his shirt off and toss it to the floor beside her own. As he hovered above her, his eyes flicking down to her bare chest just before he covered it with his own.
Rather than seeking out her lips as she expected, Ron's mouth dipped lower and settled on her neck, knowing that was where she was the most sensitive. His efforts were rewarded when his name tumbled out amid a series of soft moans. Hearing his own name spill out of her lips, was enough to trigger a guttural groan of his own.
"Don't..." she'd panted, causing him to break away from her neck and search out her face. "Don't leave a mark there," she clarified. "Not where... someone else can see it."
Ron's eyes instantly flicked down to the large red spot he'd already created. He knew he'd pay for it later, even if strictly speaking it wasn't his fault. Rather than mention it to her, he nodded his head in agreement and abandoned the spot. Placing his arms at her sides, he lifted himself up off her and dipped his head lower. He left a trail of soft kisses down her neck as he worked his way to her shoulders.
Hermione had gasped when she felt the wetness of his tongue between her breasts. He lingered there, raining butterfly kisses on the slopes, waiting for her to protest. Rather than object, her fingers had wound their way into his hair again and he took that as a sign that he was free to continue. He slowly ran his tongue up the peak and over her hardened nipple. It lingered there for moment or two, and then his mouth had descended. When he started to suckle her, she unexpectedly cried out and arched her lower body up off the bed.
Taken by surprise, Ron pulled away and stared at her anxiously, as he tried to figure out what he'd done wrong.
"Oh my god," she said, as her eyes fluttered open and she looked at his startled face.
"All right, Mione?" he asked, his voice full of concern.
"I'll say," she replied, blushing deeply. "I certainly didn't expect that to happen," she added with an embarrassed laugh. "You barely touched me and I..."
"You didn't...," he cried, as his eyes went wide. "That wasn't...did you?" he asked, shooting her one of his lopsided grins.
"Well, it was just a small one," she admitted. "A warning shock really."
"A what?"
"A warning shock," she repeated, blushing again. "That's what the book called them anyway. It likened a female orgasm to an earthquake, because you never know how strong it's going to be. Sometimes there are small tremors or 'warning shocks' before 'the big one' hits. Then there are the 'after shocks, of course.'"
"You're talking about... about multiples."
"Well, it is one of the benefits of being a woman."
BLOODY HELL, his mind had cried out as he realized what he'd just done. Even if it was a whatcha call it, a pre-shock, it was still quite an accomplishment. Then it dawned on him that in order to name it, she had to be able to recognize it, which meant that she'd experienced it before. What's more, she knew the difference between 'a warning shock' and 'the big one'. He'd groaned loudly as images of her alone in her room, touching herself, flooded his mind.
"Can I... I want to taste you," he'd whispered, his eyes roaming down her body and locking on her shorts. If she was already at the 'warning shock' stage, he might just be able to induce 'the big one' if he tried hard enough.
"What?" she'd asked, too stunned to mask her apprehension.
"I've dreamed about it for so long," he replied, his voice deep and husky with desire. "Please," he begged, his cobalt eyes filled with longing and desperation. "If you don't like it, I'll stop. I promise."
When she didn't reply, Ron had been certain she was going to refuse. As soon as she found her voice that is. She studied him intently for a moment, considering what he said, and then to his utter amazement, she nodded her head.
"REALLY?" he cried, sitting bolt upright in shock.
"As long as you promise to stop when I ask you to," she replied, unfastening her shorts and raising her lower body up off the bed just enough to allow herself to slip out of them.
"I will," he replied, his heart hammering against his chest as he watched her remove her shorts in awe. "I promise," he added for good measure, as his eyes roamed down her body and locked on her white cotton knickers. Closing his eyes, he'd placed his hands on her stomach and attempted to compose himself.
"You're so soft," he whispered, running his thumbs back and forth over her abdomen.
"Ron?" Hermione had asked, prompting him to open his eyes and look at her. He was surprised to find her propped up on her elbows studying him. Only her eyes weren't on his face, they were glued to the bulge in his trousers. "Can I see you?" she asked, catching him totally off guard.
For a second or two all he could do was stare into her eyes, as the question sunk in. Why not? he thought, shrugging his shoulders as he eyed her nearly naked body once more. I'm about to see all of her.
Realizing that if he didn't do it now, he was liable to chicken out, he stood up, unbuttoned his trousers quickly, then pushed them and his boxers to the floor.
He expected her eyes to leave his, as soon as he disrobed, but they didn't. She maintained eye contact the entire time she was scooting down the bed and it wasn't until she was standing right in front of him, that her gaze dropped to his shoulders and chest.
He had to remind himself that he'd done this to her, not all that long ago. Turn about was fair play and all that. Of course she kept her eyes closed as he studied her, which made it easier. But if he closed his eyes, he wouldn't be able to gauge her reaction, and he wanted to know what she thought.
Hermione could be a very difficult person to read when she wanted to be. Ron knew that it was at times like this, when she was experiencing something new, that she let her guard down and her thoughts became the most discernable. She'd seen the scars on his arms numerous times, but this was the first time he'd ever seen the sadness in her eyes as she looked at them. It wasn't revulsion, that much was evident by the way she reached out and lovingly ran her fingers over them. She simply regretted that it had happened.
Not wanting to focus on what could have happened to him, her eyes darted back to his chest and lingered there a moment before dropping to his stomach. He watched her closely, as her gaze fell on the part of his body she had asked to see. He had to swallow the laugh that threatened to bust when he saw her eyes go wide. He'd been looking for signs of revulsion or fear, but all he saw was wonder and curiosity.
She's studying me like one of her damned books, he told himself as she plopped down on the edge of the bed right in front of him. He knew she probably had a million questions running though her head, she was just trying to figure out which one to ask first.
"Can I touch it?" she asked, without the slightest trace of a blush.
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Sorry folks but I am going to edit it here. I've heard too many stories about readers complaining about R-rated material on this site so I'm going to keep it fairly clean. If you'd like to read the extended (R-rated version) it can be found at the Checkmated .com
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"Ron?" Hermione's voice sounded through the door, pulling him back to reality. "Are you awake?" she asked, as she continued to knock. "You missed breakfast, you know? You Mum sent me up to get you. Ron?""Yeah," he shouted back, hoping to buy himself a little time. "I'm... I'm up."
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," he hollered, as he jumped out of bed and threw on the trousers he'd been wearing the night before. "Why?" he asked, opening his chest of drawers and grabbing the first t-shirt he saw.
"You sound strange," Hermione replied. "And you missed breakfast. You're not... avoiding me are you?"
"What?" Ron said, as the flung the door open and pulled her into his room. "Why in the world would I be avoiding you?" he asked, not bothering to remove his hands from her shoulders.
"Well," she said uncomfortably, her eyes dropping to the floor as her cheeks heated up. "I um... wasn't very lady-like last night. I mean... I all but took advantage of you."
"To hell with being lady-like," Ron replied with a hardy laugh. "It was bloody brilliant. You were brilliant."
"Do you have to swear?" she sighed, stealing a quick peak at his exuberant face out of the corner of her eyes.
"Well it was."
"So you don't think I'm... I'm some kind of cheap temptress?" she asked, her embarrassment mounting. "I really didn't mean to force you to..."
"Force me?" Ron laughed. "I practically begged you," he added, stepping closer and placing a quick kiss on her lips. "If anyone should be worried it's me. After what I did to your...HEY!" he cried, noting her pristine neck. "What happened to the mark?"
"Your brother."
"Bloody hell," he groaned, realizing he'd left her to face his family alone. "I didn't mean to... I mean, I just wasn't thinking. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. Please tell me Bill got rid of it before Fred and George saw it."
"Actually they..."
"They what?" he asked warily, his eyes narrowing. He was so busy picturing his brothers taking the mickey out of her over breakfast, that he failed to notice she was staring at something over his shoulder. "Those bloody tossers."
"RON!"
"And to think, she actually lets him kiss her with that foul mouth," Fred said to his twin brother with a chuckle.
"You can say whatever you want about me," Ron cried as he spun around to face his brothers, who were laughing in the doorway, "but you leave her alone."
"Ron," Hermione protested, grabbing his arm just in case decided to go after them.
"How long have you two been standing there listening to our private conversation anyway?" he demanded to know.
"Long enough," George snickered. "You're so predictable, Ron. It's not even any fun anymore."
"At least Hermione presents us with a challenge," Fred added.
"Why do you push his buttons if it isn't any fun?" Hermione asked.
"Because we can," George replied with an impish smile.
"Prats," Hermione declared, rolling her eyes at the pair of them.
"Come on, Hermione," Fred laughed. "You know you love it when Ron climbs up on his big white horse and defends your honor."
"Black," she replied.
The twins were obviously perplexed by her response, because they stopped snickering and started at her blankly.
"Pardon?" Fred inquired.
"His horse is black," Hermione replied, picturing it quite clearly in her mind.
"It's a figure of speech," Fred informed her, as if she'd missed his point.
"Yes, I know," she shot back. "But Ron's horse is black. I've seen it."
"You've... seen it?" George asked, glancing over at Ron, who shrugged his shoulders.
"What are you talking about?" Fred questioned, as he furrowed his brow. "Ron's never had a horse."
"I haven't seen him since he was stabbed by the Queen," she continued, looking pointedly at Ron, "but I'm sure he's still around somewhere."
"Queen? What bloody Queen? You're talking crazy."
She's crazy alright, Ron thought as he watched his brothers stare at each other uncertainly. Crazy like a fox, he added, admiring at the way she had confused them into submission. They had no idea she was talking about McGonagall's giant chess set.
"That vicious bitch," Ron said, deciding it was time he had a little fun of his own. "That horse was bloody magnificent, though, wasn't he?"
"To be honest, I was more impressed with the knight than the horse," Hermione replied, shooting him a coy smile. "Even if he does have a foul mouth."
"It does have its uses though?" Ron said, arching his eyebrows at her suggestively.
"If you two start snogging, I'm going to lose my breakfast," Fred stated, clutching his stomach as if he was about to be sick.
"Just as well," Ron shot back. "Because I don't recall inviting you to watch. So do us all a favor and get the hell out."
"We're going," George said, walking into the hallway. "But only because we have to open the shop."
"Thought we'd come up here first and give you a little brotherly advice."
"Yeah, what's that?" Ron asked, hoping they'd leave once it was delivered.
"Next time you feel the urge to mark your territory," Fred replied from the doorway, "do it in a place Mum can't see."
"Bloody idiot," George added, shaking his head at his younger brother.
"Prats," Ron shouted back, slamming the door in Fred's face.
"INGRATE!"
"WANKERS!"
"SOD!"
"Ron," Hermione said, knowing she'd better intervene before it escalated any further and their mother heard what they were shouting to one another. "Shut up," she added, covering his lips with her own.