I have no idea why there's such a weird formatting issue with some of my stories. Its annoying. I'm trying different things to resolve it. If anyone has an idea or solution, I'm happy to try anything!
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"Good Morning, Mr. Weasley." Hermione's assistant Joan greeted him.
He smiled and waved at her. "Morning! Is she in?" He asked pointing at her office door.
"No, I'm afraid not. She's been in a meeting. They ought to be breaking for lunch soon, though." Three inter-office memos plopped themselves onto Joan's desk and she promptly unfolded them.
"I'm just going to wait inside, all right?" He asked.
"Yes, of course, Mr. Weasley. Go right ahead."
"It's Ron, Joan. Just Ron." He said with a smile as he opened her office door. The nameplate read "Hermione J. Weasley - Magical Law Enforcement"
He shut the door behind him and looked around. His Auror reflexes wouldn't allow him to relax in the room until he'd done a 360-degree check for danger. Reaching into the pocket of his robe he pulled out a red apple. Sitting in one of Hermione's armchairs, he tossed the apple in the air a few times before shining it on his arm and taking a big bite. He liked Hermione's office. She had turned a very boring room into a cozy, yet professional nook for herself. He looked down at the tan and chocolate brown plush area rug under his chair and remembered the entire day they had spent looking for just the right one. The room smelled of a pleasant warm vanilla air freshener she had found in a Muggle shop. The walls were the color of coffee mixed with cream and all of the furniture was black, except for a purple velvet chaise in the corner. He bought it for her when she was pregnant with Rose. If she wouldn't cut her hours down, she would at least have a comfortable spot to put her feet up.
He got up, still munching on his apple and sat down in her chair behind her desk. All manner of official documents were clearly labeled and organized by highest priority. She had a small crystal cup stocked with new quills and two pots of ink, one black and one blood red. He examined the family photographs on her desk: their wedding of course. They looked so blissful, arms encircled around each other's waists laughing at the camera and turning to look at each other. A picture of Rose as a newborn. Her tiny little upturned nose and ginger hair were the same. She was nearly two years old now. Blimey, was she ever really that small?
Hearing Hermione's voice, he stood up from her chair and came around her desk. As she opened the door she was looking behind her, talking to someone. Ron was about to smile and say something charming when he felt a knot in his stomach.
"Ah! Ron, good to see you!" the tall blond wizard crossed the room, his hand extended.
"McLaggen." Ron said cooly, shaking his hand.
Reading his discomfort, Hermione casually put herself between Ron and McLaggen, kissing her husband on the cheek.
"Cormac was just telling me about some black market spellbooks making their way around, Ron. Really dark magic, apparently. The department will want to launch a full-scale operation." He only heard half of what she said. Ten years later, Ron's fists still itched to beat Cormac McLaggen senseless over the advances he'd tried to make on Hermione.
"Yes, well - Hermione, I'll let you two visit, then. I'll send you a copy of my report." Cormac said backing out of the office. Ron narrowed his eyes and watched him leave.
He hated the way Cormac said her name, always emphasizing the 'my' sound in it - herMYohknee
Git. Deserves a swift kick in the-
"Really, Ron - after all this time?" She had her arms crossed in front of her, and her robe opened revealing a navy pencil skirt and smart cream blouse.
"'Mione I'll never stop hating him, don't bother trying to change my mind. What's he want with you anyhow, you told me about those spellbooks ages ago. I checked one of them out myself. The magic is rubbish - it's barely darker than a Third Year Hogwarts kid would know."
"Well, Cormac's uncle is very influential. He's an Unspeakable. I'm just trying a little bit of office politics." She said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"I hate the way he looks at you."
"Oh, please. He doesn't look at me any differently than anyone else." She said, sitting behind her desk.
"You're not a bloke. We're all the same, you know." He said, resting his hands on her shoulders, squeezing. She exhaled and rotated her shoulders back.
"That feels delicious, keep going." She closed her eyes and he continued massaging. "So, what brings you down here?" she asked sweetly.
"I thought I'd take my gorgeous wife out to lunch." he said, pushing his thumbs harder still into her muscles.
"Unfortunately, I don't have time today. If I leave for lunch, I'll never get home on time." She said, disappointed. She turned her head and kissed his left hand, the wedding band still gleamed like new.
"Well. Erm - all right." He stopped rubbing her shoulders and crouched down next to her. "I'll see you at home, then. I love you." He kissed her quickly and walked out of her office. She rested her cheek in her hand as he left.
Still having plenty of time left on his lunch break, Ron didn't feel much like eating. He stopped into the gents and went into an empty stall. As he unzipped his trousers he heard a familiar voice coming closer - McLaggen.
"And did you see her today? Ye, gods what I'd like to do to her!" He said. Another voice Ron didn't recognize answered.
"She's married though, it's a shame."
"Oh, that freckled ginger git. I'd make short shrift of him, you can bet."
Forgetting that he'd had to pee, Ron rezipped his trousers and stood like a statue in the stall, his fists clenched and trembling.
"Knew them at school, of course." McLaggen went on. "Always thought she was the sexiest little thing. I shagged her at a teacher's Christmas party once. And in the showers in the locker room after quidditch."
"Liar!" Ron found himself shouting. He swung the stall door open slowly and flashed his eyes at McLaggen. He stood at his full height, shoulders back - striking quite an imposing figure in his black Aurors' robe.
"Oh...Ron...didn't know you were in here..." Cormac stumbled back towards the sink.
"You're a liar, McLaggen. Hermione didn't want anything to do with you at school." He felt his face flush with fury, his nostrils flared like a bull. "She only asked you to that party to get a rise out of me."
"Oh, hey now Ron, no hard feelings..." Cormac put his hands in front of him in defense. "But, you weren't there, mate." He added, lowering his voice. "I couldn't keep her hands off me..." and he winked.
That did it. Before he could give it another thought, Ron pulled a large fist back and punched Cormac McLaggen square in the face. His nose instantly burst open, gushing blood down his face and he crumpled to the floor.
"Stay - away - from - my - wife!" With each word, Ron delivered a kick to Cormac's stomach.
"RON! What the - STOP!" Harry dove at Ron and grabbed him around the waist, pulling him as far away from Cormac as he could. Ron growled, pushing Harry off of him and stormed out of the loo. He didn't speak to anyone all the way back up to the Auror Department. He stomped into the conference room, slamming the door behind him. He paced like a caged animal and kicked the bin across the room, sending parchment scraps and other rubbish flying everywhere.
Harry was soon standing in the doorway looking at him, horrified.
"Ron, what the bloody fuck was that all about?" Harry was incensed.
"Stay out of it, Harry." Ron spat. He slammed his hand down on the conference table.
"Well, I can't, can I? I'm not just your best mate, Ron - I'm the head of this department - I'm your boss and you've just assaulted - "
"My boss? You're my boss?!" Ron's calmness at that moment was probably more intimidating than his furied yelling. "Let me tell you something Harry Potter-" Ron said, pointing at him.
Harry interrupted him. "Ron, listen. Sit down. Please. You know I'm on your side, but this is bad. He's very well connected you know. You have to tell me what happened so I can help you."
Ron heaved a sigh and plunked down into a chair. Resting his elbows on the table, he grabbed fistfulls of his hair and mumbled something Harry couldn't hear.
"Pardon?" Harry said sitting opposite him.
"He said he'd shagged Hermione at school. He said he wanted to shag Hermione." Ron said looking up. Harry swore he saw the Killing Curse swirling around in Ron's eyes.
Harry removed his glasses and rubbed his temples before replacing them. "Well, we know he's lying about the first bit. But Ron..."
It sounded like Harry was about to make an excuse for him. "Harry, don't tell me you're going to fucking defend him..." Ron bellowed.
"Keep your fucking voice down, mate." Harry said loudly. "Of course I'm not. He crossed the line. Keep in mind one little detail though - " Harry searched for the most delicate way to tell him.
Ron searched Harry's face for a clue of where this conversation was going.
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic, Ron." Harry said. "Where 85% of the male employees probably want to shag your wife. The 15% who don't include your best friend, blokes completely past it and blokes who only date each other."
It wasn't until then that Ron looked at his hand. It was bloodied, bruised and starting to swell up something fierce. He shook it, snapping his wrist but that made the pain grow stronger.
"So, you broke your hand and Cormac's nose. Grand." Harry said, shaking his head. Hoping he remembered the spell correctly, Harry raised his wand and pointed it at Ron's knuckles "Episkey!"
Ron felt the bones snap angrily back into place and while it was still sore, it did feel better. They heard Hermione's voice bellowing, "Where the devil is he? RONALD WEASLEY!"
Harry stood up and beckoned Hermione into the conference room. She stormed in, enraged. Hermione was certainly smaller than Ron but Harry couldn't decide who was scarier when they were angry.
"I have never heard of a more disgusting display. You broke his nose! Are you completely mental? What exactly were you thinking of?" Her eyes wide with anger and her own fists were clenched by her side. She was completely flushed.
"Hermione, you need to calm down as well." Harry said, approaching her quietly, trying to maintain order.
"Don't touch me Harry, I'm disgusted with him." Hermione yelled.
"I cannot believe you're actually defending him!" Ron shouted at Hermione. "You didn't even ask what happened, all you're worried about is Cormac sodding McLaggen."
Hermione was about to shout back when Harry interjected - "Do I need to remind you both that we're at work? There's no silencing charm in this room - you're airing your business for the whole building to hear!"
It brought them back to their senses. Harry took Hermione's hand and sat her in a chair. He motioned for Ron to sit down and after a short hesitation, he sat.
"Hermione." Harry took a deep breath. "What Ron did was obviously wrong - "
Ron scoffed, "Yeah, sure and you'd do the same thing if someone spoke that way about Ginny, wouldn't you?"
Harry wanted to disagree, saying he would have taken the high road, but he knew he wouldn't. He'd have done the very same thing.
"What does that mean?" Hermione asked. "What am I missing?" She looked back and forth between the two of them.
"McLaggen said some not particularly flattering things about you and Ron overheard. He was...defending your honor." Harry explained.
"What did he say, Ron?" It was the first time she had looked him in the eye since entering the room. No longer strictly furious, she stared at him hard demanding the truth.
"He said..." Ron began, willing himself not to punch the wall and break his other hand. "That he'd shagged you at school. At Slughorn's party. He talked about you like you were some...common tart. He was being...very rude." Ron said through gritted teeth.
Hermione sat back in the chair. "That's absolutely the biggest..." her voice trailed off. "He really said that?" She turned back to Ron, reaching her arm towards him on the table. She knit her eyebrows together, studying his reaction.
"Yes. He did. And I know I'm in loads of trouble. But I can't allow some...whatever the bloody hell he is...to disrespect you." Ron put his swollen hand on top of hers. She cringed at the sight of his broken hand. Scooting her chair closer to him, she planted a soft kiss on his knuckles.
"How do we fix this, Harry? This whole mess." She sighed. Harry shrugged his shoulders. He was about to speak when Dennis Creevey appeared in the doorway.
"Mr. Po - erm, Harry?" He began. They all turned their attention toward Dennis.
"The Minister wants a word. With all of you." Dennis said, clinging to his clipboard, nervously.
Ron gulped hard. He'd really done it. He felt as though he should save himself the trip and pack up his things now. Resolutely, Hermione stood and linked her arm in Ron's elbow. Harry lead the way out of the conference room and all the way to the Minister's office.
As they entered, McLaggen was sitting in a chair clutching a wad of tissue paper to his face, which was still covered in blood. Hermione saw shadows on his face which would surely turn into two black eyes. She gripped Ron's arm tighter.
Kingsley Shacklebolt sat behind his enormous desk with his hands clasped in front of him. Harry, Ron and Hermione knew him on friendly terms as he was a member of the Order but they weren't foolhardy enough to think that a personal relationship would be enough to escape serious consequences.
"Sit down." Shacklebolt said, nodding towards a row of chairs. "Someone please explain why his nose is broken," he pointed to McLaggen "and why one of my best Aurors has a broken hand." he said looking at Ron.
"Dat's simble, Binister. Weasley attacked be. He should be sacked." McLaggen said holding his nose. Hermione and Harry both nudged Ron's feet in a warning:
Keep your temper.
"Well, Ron, I've known you for many years - I'd like to know why you assaulted Mr. McLaggen." Shacklebolt fixed his eyes on Ron.
"Sir, he...Cormac..." Ron snapped his head in McLaggen's direction "I heard him saying disrespectful and untrue things about Hermione, sir. I can't even repeat...I lost my head." He sighed and hung his head, admitting defeat.
Shacklebolt raised his eyebrows at McLaggen. "Is this true?" The energy in the room seemed to lighten, at least in Ron's estimation.
McLaggen stumbled and stuttered trying to find a way to turn it around. "He attacked be, Binister! Look at by face!" He moved his hand aside, it was mess.
"I am not excusing his behavior, Mr. McLaggen. But, did you make inappropriate comments about Mrs. Weasley?" He gestured towards Hermione.
"Bight hab..." was all McLaggen could manage, this was certainly not going the way he expected.
Shacklebolt stood and walked to the front of his desk. "Mr. McLaggen, I don't want you to think that my previous relationship with them has anything to do with this. You are dismissed, sir. Take your things and go."
McLaggen's eyes bugged out. He found himself tripping over his own tongue as he fumbled out the door, none of the words were coming out right. Ron, Harry and Hermione turned to watch him go in disbelief. It was then that Ron spied the wizard McLaggen had been talking to in the gents' standing in the doorway.
"Minister, I think it would be best if we got Weasley to St. Mungo's before his hand gets any worse." The stranger said. Ron stood and approached him.
"You? But...what's going on?" he said, gob-smacked.
"Conrad McLaggen." The man offered his opposite hand to Ron to allow him to shake with his uninjured appendage. "Never liked the little bleeder. Always trying to ride my coattails." He turned and addressed Hermione; "Mrs. Weasley, I never thought for an instant anything he said about you was true. He deserved what he got in my opinion."
With that, Conrad McLaggen nodded at Shacklebolt and left the room.
"You're very lucky his uncle was there as a witness, Ron." Shacklebolt said as he walked up behind them and placed an arm around Ron's shoulders. "You can't go hitting people. Even if he deserved it. I'm not going to excuse it again. Get yourself to St. Mungo's. Hermione and Harry can go along with you, in case you run into Mr. McLaggen."
As they exited the Minister's office, they stole sideways looks at each other. Stopping by Hermione's office so she could fetch her purse, they still hadn't spoken.
When they arrived at St. Mungo's and a Healer examined Ron's hand, Harry started laughing.
"It's not funny, Harry. All three of us could have lost our jobs!" Hermione said trying to be serious, but she caught a fit of laughter too.
"So, what shall we do with the afternoon off?" Ron asked, wincing as the Healer set the bone in his hand. Hermione tsked.
"I'm taking you home and putting you to bed." She said. Ron chortled.
"If you had just come out to lunch with me, none of this would have happened." he teased. "But bed sounds great." He leaned over and kissed her. Harry rolled his eyes.
When they arrived home, Hermione gave Ron an ice pack for his hand. The Healer said the break was so bad, even with magic it would probably be sore and bruised for a few days. Ron laid on the sofa with his hand on his chest, balancing the ice pack on his knuckles.
As angry as she had been at him for being a jealous arse, Hermione smirked. Ron held onto such dislike for McLaggen for so long and Hermione didn't even fancy him at school. She could only imagine how Ron felt about Viktor; the only other person Hermione had ever kissed. She fixed him a large sandwich and poured herself a glass of wine, downing it in two large sips.
He grinned appreciatively at her when she placed the sandwich in front of him and he gobbled it down with gusto. She shook her head and waved her wand, cleaning up all the crumbs he left everywhere.
"Thanks, Mione." He said swallowing the last bite. She nudged him and he lifted his legs up so she could sit on the sofa, and then rested them across her lap.
"You really are a giant ginger idiot, you know." She finally said.
"Might be, but I'm your giant ginger idiot." He laughed. His expression hardened somewhat. "I felt like ripping him to pieces, Hermione. Truly. Just the way he spoke about you..." She saw his eyes darken.
"Ron, you know I'm yours. Always have been, always will be. Are you going to punch everyone who comes onto me?" She placed her hand half-way up his thigh and gently massaged.
He pondered her question for all of 30 seconds; it reminded him of what Harry said earlier. "Yep. And according to Harry, that means I have to beat the tar out of most of the blokes at work." Hermione blushed. It was true that wizards seemed to be overly nice to her sometimes; falling over themselves to open doors for her and things like that. She assumed they were just being polite but every once in a while, someone would "forget" she was married and invite her to dinner or drinks. She never told Ron, of course. She'd mentioned it to Harry and he didn't seem surprised.
As he spoke he felt her hand run further up his leg. She quickly glanced at the clock, they had ages before they'd need to go pick up Rosie from her parents. He took the ice pack off his hand and sat up, swinging his legs to put his feet on the floor. She leaned into him as he leaned into her neck. The scent of his aftershave mixed with perspiration set Hermione's senses aflame.
"I couldn't bear the thought of someone else touching you." He whispered, gently unbuttoning her blouse and slipping his hand inside it. His fingers were still chilled from the ice pack and it sent shivers down her spine when he grazed her nipple.
Turning her head she captured his mouth with hers and coaxed his tongue into her mouth. He ran his fingers through her hair with his other hand and bit her lip in between kisses.
"No one else ever has. Not like this." She replied as her blouse fell to the floor.
The fire of his passion was fueled by that thought - no one else had ever made her feel the way he did. No one else knew her the way he did. She fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, her fingers refusing to cooperate.
He suddenly stood up, dramatically tore his shirt off, buttons clattering the the hardwood floor. She wet her lips at the sight of his bare chest, the muscles rippling. She hardened her eyes on him and was soon planting kisses all over his stomach.
Ron grabbed hold of her waist and pulled her up over his shoulder. She squealed and playfully kicked her feet, sending her shoes flying in different directions. He ran his hand up her thigh and planted a playful smack on her bottom as he carried her down the hall and plunked her down on their bed. He pulled his wand from his pocket and traced a line with it from her neck down in between her breasts to her navel. She was tingling all over and squeezed her thighs together in anticipation.
Tossing his wand and his shirt carelessly to the floor, he climbed on top of her, pinning her arms above her head with one hand. She struggled and moaned while he licked and nibbled the soft, creamy skin of her breasts and torso. He unhooked the clasp of her skirt and tugged it off. Still holding her arms down, he plunged his fingers into her pink knickers and she cried out.
"You're so fucking wet..." he moaned, pushing his lips against hers. Her hips bucked wildly trying to wiggle free of his grasp but even with a badly broken hand he was stronger than she. Yanking her knickers off, he released her arms and began licking her with wild abandon. She hooked a leg over his shoulder and ran her fingers through his hair, moaning uncontrollably.
She felt herself about to climax but pushed him away with one swift push on his shoulder with her foot. He toppled from the bed to the bedroom floor with a grunt. Standing, he stripped his trousers and pants off and climbed back on the bed. She kissed him, pressing her tongue into his mouth. She reached down and ran her nails up his fully engorged shaft and felt him quiver. With a swift movement, she pushed him back, swung a leg over his chest and began sucking on him greedily.
"Ooooh fuck!" he moaned, staring at her perfectly rounded bottom as he felt her mouth and tongue encapsulate his flesh. The soft sucking sounds and hungry moans she uttered filled his ears and he groaned while licking his lips. He pulled her up by her hips, centering her soft wetness just above his mouth and he continued where he left off. He felt her body shake as he stroked her with his tongue.
She had to release him from her mouth to moan and proceeded to gyrate rhythmically, crying out, she was unable to complete a thought "Ron! I'm gonna...Aaah! Oh...my..."
With a sudden jerk of her hips he felt her come. She panted his name and clawed his inner thighs before rolling onto her back.
She spread her legs and within an instant he was slamming into her glistening entrance. Every thrust of his hips heightened his pleasure and hers.
"I love you so fucking much." He said, each word emphasized with his hips. "Love that tight little...oh fuck…" he sputtered as he came.
His forehead beaded with sweat, he wiped his face with his forearm and collapsed next to her. She curled in next to him and bit his nipple, making him yelp.
"You're the kind of girl blokes go completely mental over, you know that don't you?" He finally said. "Just the thought of someone else having you..." his voice trailed off and she shushed him.
"Relax. I'm yours."
"There might be better than me, you don't know." He said provocatively.
"I doubt that highly." She chuckled.
-end-