There are days Mother didn't warn me about, this was one of them. She didn't warn me because she still barely spoke to me. Nine months had elapsed since Hermione and I moved into our flat and my mother still hadn't set a toe across the threshold. Even Dad told me she was madder than he expected her to be.

The light at the end of the tunnel was in sight – graduation. Three of the longest bloody years of my life were almost over and I'd get my assignment to the Auror Office in London. My second and third choices were Birmingham and Bristol. I'm pretty sure everyone in my training squadron applied for London, but Harry and I were pretty much guaranteed our first choice of a home office. Not just because the entire Wizarding world pretty much owed us that much, but because he and I were at the top of our class. That's right, me, making top marks, call Guinness. No, seriously, call Guinness – I'm very thirsty.

Anyway, I woke up on the sofa this one Saturday morning to Hermione banging pots and pans in the kitchen and cursing. I dug some crust out of the corner of my eye with a fingernail before I sat up and watched her talk to herself.

"Where did you put it? Hermione Jean…What the hell did you do with it?"

"What are you looking for?" I tried to get more vertical but my morning stiffie was making me hunch a bit.

She tucked some of her hair behind her ear and looked up at me. "My red spatula. I cannot find my fucking red spatula."

I laughed because well, it was funny. She got so angry you'd think I'd called her a rude word.

"What are you laughing at?" Her nose wrinkled and I could practically see the steam coming out of her ears so I laughed again. She grabbed a salt shaker and hummed it at me. I caught it before it shattered our glass coffee table.

"What the fuck, Hermione? I just woke up, what could I possibly have done?"

She growled; not her "get over here and fuck me" growl but a sound she reserved for special occasions.

"I was going to make breakfast but I cannot make eggs without my spatula." She spat at me.

"I can make eggs without it, let me do it. I just have to use the loo." I said, genuinely willing to let her sit and calm down while I cooked. I got up off the sofa and something hit me in the stomach. The matching pepper grinder bounced off me and landed on the middle cushion. I raised my eyebrow at her.

"I still can't find it!"

"And throwing things like a child is going to help you find it, how exactly?"

"Shut up, Ron!" She slammed the cupboard shut and went into the bedroom.

Crookshanks jumped up on the sofa and looked at me.

"Do you know what the bloody hell that was about? No, you wouldn't tell me if you did, would you?" I said to him, scratching behind his ears. This was about as affectionate as Crookshanks and I ever got. He'd occasionally permit me to scratch him until he was satisfied and then –

"Ouch – fuck you, you little bastard!" I was about to swat at him but he had his ears back and a paw raised, ready to claw my bollocks so I just walked away.

I was still shaking my head trying to decide what Hermione's issue was when I went into our kitchen. It took me precisely 15 seconds to locate the "missing" red spatula. It was in the oddest place, too. It was on the counter in the bucket with all of the other utensils, literally less than half a meter from where Hermione had been standing when she threw the salt shaker at me.

"Barmy. Thoroughly barmy." I said to myself. I padded down the hall to our bedroom and knocked.

"Babe? I found it." No answer.

"Mione?" I tried the knob and it was unlocked so I entered with caution.

She was on her side of the bed, facing away from me. I sat on my side and rubbed her arm.

"Hermione, what's wrong?"

She didn't say anything, she just dismissively "hmphed" at me.

"Do you still want eggs?" I offered. I watched her shoulder pop up in a shrug, which I decided meant 'Yes I do but I'm not going to tell you that. I'm just going to be hacked off at you if you don't make them for me.'

I retreated to the kitchen, Crookshanks had jumped on the bed next to her and meowed my dismissal from my pillow.

I just managed to pull the egg carton out of the fridge when it hit me. Eggs. Not the eggs in my hand, Hermione's eggs. Shit. I checked the calendar and sure enough she had made one of her marks in black ink on today's date, signifying that she was in fact, a week away from being shark bait. I knew it hadn't happened yet, those days of course were marked in red.

I chuckled to myself. Hermione had to be the only girl in the world who marked PMS on a calendar.

In my family, my parents didn't talk openly about these things. Mum handled the situation with Ginny, leaving my poor father the task of telling all six of his sons and Harry about the birds and the bees. Dad waited an extra year for my talk. Ginny nearly getting killed in the Chamber of Secrets sort of took precedent over my willy.

I'll never forget the day he walked into my room where Harry and I were laughing about Neville's boggart turning into Professor Snape in a dress. I couldn't read his expression, I thought he had dreadful news for us. He looked grim like someone had died. Harry and I shared a nervous sideways glance, both thinking Sirius had been found and given the Dementor's kiss.

"Boys, I need to talk to you."

Never a good way to start a chat, incidentally.

What followed was one of the most awkward things I've ever witnessed. Harry and I both had to try to look dignified while Dad mumbled through his speech using words like "penis" and "erection". I pinched the soft flesh of my inner arm to keep from laughing my bollocks off.

"Dad?"

"Y-yes, Ron?"

"George and Fred already covered this. It's ok." I tried to smile but I could barely even look at him.

He cleared his throat. "They did?"

"Yeah." Harry and I nodded.

"Ok, well…erm…good. If you have any questions, you can come to me, you know that, right?"

"Sure Dad. Will do." I said. Harry had his head down and he was biting his forefinger and sniggering. I elbowed him in the arm and he looked up.

"Absolutely, Mr. Weasley. Thanks."

Dad backed out of the room and shut the door behind him. Harry was about to speak when I covered his mouth with my hand. Dad came back in, looking perplexed.

"Are you sure you don't…have any questions?"

We both nodded with such enthusiasm it must have looked ridiculous. He half-smiled at us and walked out again, shutting the door.

"Oh. My. Merlin." I said, laying on my back on the floor. Harry curled into a ball, cackling.

"Your poor Dad has done that five times already; you'd think he'd be a little relieved to do it the last time." He said. "What did Fred and George tell you, anyway? I wasn't there…"

I smirked at him. I sat up and dug under my mattress and pulled out the skin mag my pervy brothers had given me two years earlier. I tossed it to Harry.

"Don't say I never gave you anything, mate." I got up and laid on my bed with my hands behind my head.

"Holy shit…" Harry said, his eyes bulging.

"That's nothing. I know where they keep the good stuff. I'll show you someday."

Of course, looking back on it – if I knew he'd be using what I taught him on my kid sister, I would have kept my big trap shut.

When we got back to school, I still didn't know why the girls in Gryffindor all seemed to hate each other and us blokes around the same time every month. Dad didn't cover that and it certainly wasn't something explained in the magazines. Growing up with so much testosterone in one house, I didn't think of it when Mum or Ginny were extra moody. I didn't realize there was a reason beyond them feeling outnumbered.

As was the case with the rest of my sexual education, my brothers explained it. George had been dying to get off with this Ravenclaw girl Regina Bakker and the morning after what was supposed to be their night George was the grumpiest git at the breakfast table.

"No good George? What happened?" Lee asked with a mouthful of toast.

Ever the master of delicacy, George took a heaping spoon of strawberry jam and splattered it on Lee's plate. I had no idea what it meant but Lee jumped back and cast a not very subtle look over at the Ravenclaw table.

"Ew! Gross! Did you get any on you?" Fred said loud enough to attract the attention of everyone sitting around us.

"No." George shook his head. "Just ruined my night, is all."

"I don't get it," I said "what ruined your night?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and went back into her textbook, George, Lee and Fred just stared at me. Back in the Common Room, George pulled me aside.

"They bleed?!" I whispered loudly after he explained it in my ear. Hermione cocked her head at me from across the room.

"Shhh!" She scolded.

So, red spatula in hand, I fixed Hermione's scrambled eggs (the edible ones); a little runny the way she liked them. Her toast was toasting, strawberry jam was at the ready. We didn't have any bacon but I found some sausage in the fridge and did them up quickly. I got a tray set up with a plate and some juice.

I balanced it on one hand so I could turn the doorknob.

"Mione?" I gently pushed the door open and she was sitting up on our bed, hugging her knees.

"You really made me breakfast after I snapped? Really?"

I shrugged and smiled, "I would prefer you not to chuck things at me but…"

"But you looked at the calendar." She said simply. "I'm really really sorry, Ron. That was completely ridiculous of me. Uncalled for."

I put the tray down on the bed next to her and sat. She picked up a piece of toast and smiled as she nibbled it. I watched her eat and when she finished the last drop of juice I took the tray and placed it on the floor.

"You're good to me." She said smiling.

"You're my girl." I said, quoting that film she liked so much. She chuckled and held her arms out to me so I happily crawled up next to her and she kissed me. One kiss turned into another and another. I looked at the clock on the wall. She planted kiss after kiss on my mouth as I tried to speak:

"Mione? (kiss) I have (kiss) to get ready for (kiss) work, love. George (kiss) is expecting me in fifteen (kiss) minutes."

"So be quick about it then." She said, tearing her top off.

I groaned and cupped her tits in my hands. I pushed them together and buried my face in her cleavage while I licked her skin. I positioned myself in between her legs and kissed down her torso while I tugged her pyjama bottoms off. I didn't even have to touch her to know she was wet. I spread her open with my fingers and started teasing her clit with my tongue.

Her hands in my hair she rocked against my face, oohing and aaahing the deeper I pressed my tongue.

"Stop, Ron! Aaaah!" She moaned, suddenly pushing away.

I stood up, stripped off and she yanked me down onto the bed. She flipped on top of me and straddled my hips, my cock buried deep inside her. I grunted loudly while she rode me. I held her around the waist and flattened my feet on the mattress. Using my thigh muscles I lifted her up off the bed and she cried out my name.

Laying back flat on the bed I grabbed Hermione and rolled, planting her underneath me. She sucked on my bottom lip, moaning aggressively into my mouth while I pumped my hips and brought her to a very loud orgasm.

Her eyes were clamped shut and she dug her nails into my back. I kept going and she came a second time, not quite as loudly – the subsequent ones never are.

"Come on, Ron…come for me…come in me…" She begged.

I sucked her left nipple into my mouth, molding her tits in my hands. When I felt it coming, I pulled her legs up over my shoulders.

"Ohfuck, ohfuck, fuck!" I said, spilling into her.

Knock Knock Knock

"Now that you've finished, how's about coming into work Ron?" George's voice called from the other side of the bedroom door.

"George! Go away!" I shouted.

"I wouldn't be here if you could tell time!" He yelled back in his taunting, not-at-all-angry way.

His laughter faded as we heard his footfalls stomp towards our living room and he must have gone back to the shop through the fireplace, the flat was again silent.

"I've got to go." I said getting up. "He's going to take the piss out of me all week for this, the wanker."

She leaned up on her elbows. "We're going to have to do that a lot more."

"I'll be happy to oblige, Miss Granger. For now, I've got to go sell Puking Pastilles and Skiving Snackboxes en masse." I pinned on my name badge and found my belt.

"I'll see you tonight. I'll be the naked one in the kitchen." She said as I walked out the bedroom door.