Author's Note: Thank you so much for the reviews, follows and favorites! Now that the story setup is out of the way, I think it is time for a bit more fun. :D :D
Happy reading!
Chapter 2
Hermione wasn't sure what she was expecting. Perhaps something quiet and intimate, but this was definitely not that.
"Captain, they're gaining on us!" a swashbuckling pirate called from the deck below.
Hermione didn't respond, fully distracted by the scene before her. Enormous sails billowed above, blocking out the blinding sun, the boat rolling back and forth with the ocean current, the lapping waves splashing over the sides, misting Hermione and her crew with salty air.
She was on the open seas.
Somehow, she knew, despite the pirate calling to her, despite the tricorn hat that held her unruly curls at bay, despite her leather boots and her tunic, which hung loose around her chest, that she was captain of this pirate ship, and she was expected to lead her crew to victory. She squinted up at the tattered skull and crossbones flag whipping wildly in the wind.
Though she seemed to have complete control of her own thoughts and words, it was as if this dream was pushing pirate-like phrases and suggestions into her head and out of her mouth, making the experience much more realistic. She would have to complement George on this magical feat.
"Aye, prepare the cannons, ready your swords and wands...for today, we go to battle!" she shouted out over the deck.
Her crew were big and small, all with grimy, matted hair and layers of patchwork fabric. All held up their swords and gave her a pirate's salute, and then scuttled in different directions readying for the fight of their lives.
"Yes, Silver Tongue?" Hermione asked pointedly at her second-mate, the grungy giant who appeared to be triple her size.
"Captain Granger, he's the most feared pirate in all the seas," Silver Tongue hurried on, "only to you of course."
"Point being?" she scoffed, continuing to steer the ship forward, avoiding glancing at her adversary that was catching up behind them.
"We're your crew til the end, madam, and just know their captain is a devious brute. Don't be afraid to do your worst. He deserves it."
Hermione nodded, refocusing.
While her mind was in the full swing of preparing for battle, she couldn't help but think about how odd of a dream this was. It didn't feel romantic at all. It didn't feel like something she would have fantasized about.
Her mind whipped back to the present, noticing that her enemy's ship was flanking her. It was more slender than hers and seemed reinforced. It pulled up like a slippery eel next to hers.
"Drop the anchor and prepare to fire," she called down to her crew. She heard a few 'ayes' and growls, and the buzz in her body began...the anticipation of battle.
Before anyone had the chance to light a cannon, grappling hooks flew over, latching themselves onto her ship, forcing the two boats to remain connected. Simultaneously, multiple ropes with enemy pirates flung themselves toward her ship.
"They're coming from above!" screamed a crewwoman pointing to the skies.
Nearly fifteen enemies swung themselves onto her boat, swords out, hollering and grunting, ready to face off against her crew.
"Defend our treasure and our ship! Together we lay waste to these scoundrels!" she yelled to the crew. As soon as the last word escaped her, their mysterious and brutish pirate captain flung across their ship and landed on the upper deck with her, teetering on the edge.
"Scoundrel, eh?" the dark figure laughed. His midnight blue tricorn hat disguised his features, but Hermione knew the voice, and her heart thudded in response.
"I don't repeat myself," Hermione retorted, slowly unsheathing her sword in one hand and pulling out her wand in the other.
"This is quite a ship," he said jovially, as if he was already enjoying his bounty. He paced carefully, balancing as he walked back and forth along the edge of her ship. If she could just get to him quick enough, she could knock him off without too much trouble, and he would be down in Davy Jones' Locker and out of her hair.
He looked her up and down, "Quite sad that I have to take your ship, your crew, and your treasure...all for myself."
Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes, delivering a derisive laugh.
"How embarrassing this will be for you then, when I take your hat and your pants before this day is done," she quipped, glancing down at his trousers with a suggestive eye.
He lifted his chin up so she could see his face clearly, and his eyes widened in pleasant surprise, a grin growing on the edges of his lips. "Is that so?"
Hermione was struck silent by the sultry look in those eyes. The same cerulean eyes that she always managed to get lost in. She appreciated the few moments to take in his features; the smattering of freckles travelling from cheek, over his slightly crooked nose, and onto the other; his fiery red hair peeking out of the hat; his sharp chin and daring smile.
Pull yourself together. Hermione chided, attempting to collect herself.
"I mean, I could just tip you off the side of my boat… but I wouldn't want to deny my crew a good show," she joked back, pointing her sword at him and taking a calculating step forward.
He was still smiling, but his face was unreadable as they held each other's gaze. Then as if he'd made a decision, he released the rope connecting him to his boat and hopped down in front of her, pulling out his own rather intimidating sword.
"So then, shall we have a duel?" he asked, almost seductively.
They circled one another, sizing the other up and down. Hermione felt a flush run up the back of her neck, and she appreciated that her hair was down, hiding the physical response her body elicited.
He was in a loose-fitting white tunic that billowed in the wind. Her eyes travelled down his shoulders, past his torso, to the base of the shirt tucked loosely in his fitted leather trousers. She enjoyed the view of his perfectly round bum.
"Terms? Captain Weasley, is it?" she managed to ask in a challenging, yet provocative voice. "I don't want to nick that pretty face of yours, especially if it will soon belong to me."
She shimmied her coat off while managing her sword and wand in one hand. The heavy jacket slipped onto the wooden planks with a creak beneath her feet.
He hadn't responded to her, his eyes still roving over her curves.
"You and me, no wands, only swords," he started, finally pulling his eyes up to meet hers. She gave him a flirty tilt of the head to signify that she knew and approved of what he had been doing. "Winner gets everything aboard the other ship and their crew."
Hermione contemplated, but they both knew this was the only intended outcome. She glanced down at the crew below. Both sides were simultaneously watching their captain's conversation, while also holding the other at bay, sending threatening grunts towards their opponent.
Silver Tongue and what appeared to be Ron's second mate, quickly took their wands and disappeared back into the lower level crowd of onlookers.
Hermione watched Ron as he settled in his wide stance, holding his sword out in one hand, while encouraging her forward with the other.
Hermione could feel the heat rising through her body. Normally she would be terrified to face off against anyone with a sword, but for some reason, this dream had her confident and collected. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she could win. And even more than that, she knew that she would be getting closer to what she was really after.
In an instant, she lunged forward towards Ron. He spun as she landed in his former spot on the deck.
Then with a focus and spark in his eye, he shot an elbow at her, which she grabbed and deflected.
Both stepped back a moment to appreciate each other's fighting style, and then, it was on.
Their swords clashed. Metal on metal echoed across the ship as they parried each movement with one another. It was as if they were participating in a dangerous dance, each skilled in their own right.
Hermione slid from side to side, using her speed and agility to her advantage. Ron attacked with his strength, forcing her back every few steps.
Their swords continued to ricochet after one another as they continued their perilous movements all the way down the stairs to the main deck.
Hermione lunged away and shifted around the sail's bannister, Ron's sword stopping her with a sharp gasp, the blade touching her throat. She pulled back, ducked and kicked low at Ron's lower half. He let out a howl as he dropped to his knee.
Every inch they took seemed to be matched equally by the other.
Before Hermione could move forward, Ron grabbed her and shoved her against the edge of the boat. If she looked down, she could see the waves smacking up against her ship. His force was something she wasn't expecting, and it terrified her in the best way possible.
"You're better than I thought you'd be," he whispered, tickling her ear with his hot breath.
Hermione shuddered. Despite their swords being crisscrossed in front of them, he had pushed his body right up against her. She drew on her deepest inner strength not to wrap her legs around his waist and take him then and there.
"Funny, I'm not as impressed as I thought I would be," she teased, shoving him to the side with all her might and slid away.
Ron didn't seem phased as he pushed ahead unwavering, like a wolf ready to swallow her whole.
Hermione inched her way backwards around the deck, the crew parting and dissipating as she went.
"Well, what can I say?" Ron uttered, lingering a little too long on her lips, "you make me weak in the knees."
Hermione gave him a daring look but felt a tingling sensation roll up her body. All she wanted to do was attack his lips then and there. This bantering fight was all for show, and she was determined to get what she was really after.
"Silver Tongue!" she called behind her, and without needing another word, her second mate threw her wand back to her. She caught it in her free hand and called out before her adversary knew what was happening.
"Ventus!" her voice cracked as she shot a spiraling gust of wind directly at Ron.
Ron's eyes shot up in surprise, and he was blown back towards the door leading down to her private captain's quarters. After an oomf, he stumbled backwards out of sight.
"No one moves until I give the word. This ends now," she shouted to the shipmates as she followed Ron into the depths of her ship.
Though in reality, she had never actually been in her captain's quarters, as she made her way down the stairs to corner Ron, she couldn't help but feel as if everything was customized just for her.
The stairs were wrapped in a forest green carpet, leading her into a warm and glowing space. The walls were lined with shelves of books, each one in its own distinct leather binding with calligraphic text.
While it was one of the largest areas on her ship, everything was rather compact. Along one of the bare walls was her mahogany four-poster bed, and towards the center of the room was her large desk brandishing gold inlay and ornate carvings. The desk was almost completely covered in maps, compasses and small figurines that detailed her upcoming conquests.
"You cheated, Mione," Ron pouted as he paced around the room, running his finger along a row of books.
Hermione stopped short, surprised by his change in demeanor. She took a step towards him.
"I'm a pirate, remember," Hermione grinned.
"Right…" Ron muttered, taking a few steps up to her. The crystal chandelier above them tinkled gently as the boat swayed back and forth.
His piercing gaze continued to drive her wild with desire. It felt as if he was looking directly into her soul and warming it up from the inside.
"So, how should we settle this...Captain Granger?" he enunciated her title and gave her a sly look.
Hermione took a slow breath. This was it. It was her turn to take charge and claim victory.
She eyed him and walked around the table once more, dropping her sword and wand in the chair nearby. She ended up right back in front of him, almost nose to nose.
The balmy temperature in the room continued to rise. Or maybe that was because she was so close to Ron. His physical presence was foreboding and tantalizing. She tried not to squirm.
Hermione grabbed for his hat and pulled it off, revealing his fiery red hair. She ran her fingers along the spine of his hat and glanced back up at him with an innocent, but tempting grin.
He wasn't smiling. He peered down at her like he wanted to devour her; like he was holding on by a thread, just like she was.
"I might be able to think of someth-," she offered, but before she could finish her sentence, he shoved her against the desk, and his lips were on hers.
An explosion of pleasure ripped its way up her body from her toes to the top of her head as she felt their lips press together. The sensation was unmistakable and reminded her of the passionate kiss they'd shared in the Room of Requirement.
His lips were aggressive, but soft, as she remained trapped against the desk. Her mind was now melting, and all she could do was respond with the same animalistic urge.
"Mione," he moaned as he began peppering kisses down her neck.
"Ron," she mimicked, desperate to soak up every moment, touch and ounce of his love.
She leaned back to give him better access to her. Her legs were splayed open, and he pressed into her. She could feel his hardness, and it only spurred her on. She clawed at his tunic, pulling it out from his trousers and attempting haphazardly to get it over his head.
There was only a moment to glance down at his bare torso, every chiseled feature sending shockwaves of desire through her, and then her lips were on his again. His tongue licked along her lower lip, causing her to groan in pleasure.
"I need you," she whined, not sure where dream Hermione picked up and real Hermione left off.
"Merlin," was all Ron could get out. Her hat had fallen to the ground ages ago, and her curls whipped wildly with every movement and thrust. Ron wasn't holding back. He went straight for her shirt, nearly ripping it off in a fiery passion. She didn't wait either, as she allowed him to help slip off her boots and remove her trousers.
Ron stopped for a moment, looking at her lying almost completely bare against the desk. It looked as if he was enjoying the view, but Hermione wasn't waiting around.
"Don't even think about it," She chastised. "This is happening."
Ron smirked. "Seems as if I was the one that managed to get your hat and trousers before the end of the night."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "And you can have a lot more, but I will murder you if you don't get over here and ravage me this instant."
That was all it took for his eyes to darken and for him to lunge towards her, shoving his own pants down in the process.
As they got deeper and deeper into the euphoric oblivion, Hermione noticed the telltale signs of a white fog slithering its way into the room and into her mind.
"Nooo…" she groaned, trying desperately to swat it away, while Ron continued to press hot kisses all the way down to her chest.
He didn't seem to notice the fog, and she desperately tried to remain present, but it was no use. Soon the white haze took over every nook and cranny. Ron quickly began to dissipate, and she tried desperately to hold on to his lips, his seductive voice, and his firm body pressed against her, eliciting a deep level of pleasure that she could only get from her deepest fantasies.
A bright light shone through her window, and a few birds chirped.
"Damn it, George," she whined, kicking her blankets in protest. "Always with the damned sexual intimacy blocker."
Hermione pulled herself out of bed and barged over to her desk in the living room to write out her feedback. That was always George's main request. List out your experience, symptoms, any descriptions and any feedback about making it better.
As she finished, she thought back to the amazing experience that was this dreamscape. It was a level of fantasy that she'd never experienced in his patented Daydream Charm, and it was phenomenal. Everything felt authentic, down to the words and the scenery. And even more than that, Ron seemed more like himself, giving her an even more realistic and meaningful experience that she was anticipating.
Despite the frustration of not being able to go 'all the way' in the dream, she sat for a moment reveling in the feeling of it. Although it was all in her mind, her real body had reacted to it, and she was still buzzing.
Realizing she was about to be late, she got dressed, grabbed a slice of toast, her work from the previous night, and her wand, and barged out of the front door, ready for the day.
Unfortunately, despite her best efforts to ignore it, she knew the hardest task was yet to come. It was Friday, the Trio's weekly lunch day together, and, of course, she would have to keep her emotions at bay as she sat at the table with the one man she wanted more than anything. The man she just had naughty pirate sex with the previous night.
Hermione groaned and left for work.
