I do not own Harry Potter or the delightful characters therein, I am not J.K. Rowling.

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...Chapter 7...

Something was tickling her nose.

She swatted at it, but it kept coming back again, irritating her awake. She opened her eyes to find her husband holding a lock of her own hair in front of her face, just barely grazing the end of her nose with it.

She batted his hand away, glancing at the clock with bleary eyes. It was highly unusual for Ron to be up so early on a Saturday, especially when he didn't have a Quidditch match or Auror duties scheduled.

She would think he would be a bit more knackered out after yesterday, too. They had gotten their second wind after eating the takeout, racing each other back to the bed to battle out round two.

She had won, of course.

Her thighs were still a bit sore from working herself over him for so long, drawing out his torment until he begged her to finish. She had gladly complied, since she was of course obligated to do everything he said. At least until midnight tonight.

He jostled her shoulder, making her sit up to eye him with discontent.

"Get up, lazypants. I'm thinkin' that I'd quite like for you to make us some pancakes. Chocolate pancakes."

The grin on his face reminded her of the boy she had met on the Hogwarts train. A rather unimpressive little boy with a streak of dirt on his nose and the most infectious grin she had ever seen.

She rolled her eyes, shoving away from him violently and staggering to the dresser to retrieve one of his oversized T-shirts.

He followed her to the kitchen, clad only in a baggy pair of pants patterned with tiny snitches and brooms. She would have to chuck those out soon, they were getting a bit ratty about the edges, unraveling along the elastic waistband.

She began to wave her wand at the cabinet, bringing down the ingredients, but he wrapped his hand around her wand, yanking it out of her grasp. She turned to glare at him as he put her wand on top of the icebox, just out of her reach. He smirked at her, flipping a kitchen chair around backwards to straddle it confidently, resting his chin on one fist.

"None of that, now. I'd like you to make them the muggle way. I like watching you do muggle things."

The waggle of his eyebrows attempted to give his words a naughty edge, but she knew that he really did like to watch her do muggle things; it fascinated him and usually ended with him demanding that she show him how.

She sighed, turning to retrieve all of the ingredients herself. Making pancakes without any magic turned a five-minute activity into half an hour. Now she would have to be more careful following the recipe and perform every step one at a time rather than using her wand to perform several tasks at once.

Within the next twenty minutes she was covered in flour and sugar, growling with frustration as her batter simply spread like water in the pan rather than puffing up as it should.

She looked back over her recipe to discover that she had left out the baking powder, something she would never have done if she had been using her wand to retrieve the ingredients. She stomped over to the cabinet, yanking it open to find the tin of baking powder staring her in the face, mocking her failure at domesticity.

"Oi, watch it!"

She spun around to find Ron throwing the flaming pan into the sink, thick plumes of smoke rising as he doused the burning mess with the tap.

She slumped into a chair at the kitchen table, resting her head on her arms dejectedly.

Ron patted her on the back, his voice overly cheerful as he attempted to console her.

"Never mind that, love. You never were any good at doing what I tell you anyway."

She groaned, feeling her eyes fill with tears. She hated failing, in any capacity. And this was something that was usually so simple. She felt like an idiot. She sniffed loudly, making Ron raise her chin with his hand so he could look in her eyes.

"No-nonononono, don't cry. It's alright, Hermione. Look, we can just eat the batter, it's good!"

He grabbed the bowl up from the counter, shoving a heaping spoonful into his mouth as he pantomimed extreme enjoyment. She held her hands out to him in warning.

"No, Ron, there are raw eggs in-"

But there were the eggs, sitting unbroken on the countertop, yet another step she seemed to have forgotten. At first the sight made her even more depressed, but then looking at her husband, clutching the mixing bowl with batter dripping off of his chin...something shifted inside her and suddenly everything was actually quite funny.

...

Ron watched his wife in astonishment as she succumbed to hysterical laughter. He should never have demanded that she make him breakfast. It had been a petty thing to use his winnings for, after all, and just look at the way things had turned out.

Still...this batter really was delicious, sweet and chocolaty and rather runny. A bit more like chocolate sauce than batter. He took another large spoonful, slurping it like soup.

Hermione wiped her eyes, looking up at him, her chest still shaking with laughter. Her rather enticingly jiggling chest...

He had an idea. A really, really spectacular idea.

"Hermione, come and try some of this, s'really good!"

She shook her head.

"Oh, Ron, you don't have to pretend for me. I know it must be dreadful."

He shook his head furiously, setting the bowl down on their small kitchen table and bringing the loaded spoon to her lips.

"Taste it."

She stuck out the delicate pink edge of her tongue, just barely grazing the surface of the spoon. His body reacted as if that tongue had been grazing him. He cleared his throat as she closed her eyes with a little hum of contentment.

"See? S'good, isn't it?"

She nodded, reaching that tongue out to lick a drop of batter from her lips. He dropped the spoon back into the bowl, sliding his hands beneath the old shirt she was wearing and lifting it off of her before she could protest.

She sat there naked and startled, staring at him curiously. He loved that she no longer rushed to cover herself in front of him. He would hope that by now she should know just how much he loved the way she looked ... and the effect she had on him; heart, body, and soul.

Holding her gaze, he lifted the spoon out of the bowl, drizzling her chest with the batter. She jumped slightly, looking aghast at the mess he had made before bringing her eyes back to his.

"Ron! What are you doing!"

He knelt in front of her, leaning in to catch a bit of batter about to drip off of one tightly budded nipple.

"Mmm, I'm having breakfast."

Her hands settled in his hair, giving him silent encouragement as he licked the rest of the batter from her breasts with wide flat strokes of his tongue, going over every inch of her until she was totally clean. He started to reach for the bowl again but she stood, pulling him up with her and then shoving him back until his arse perched on the edge of the table.

Giving him that wonderful wicked smile that she reserved just for him, the smile that had fueled his patronus on more than one occasion, she went up on her toes to kiss his lips. Her mouth was impossibly smooth and warm and delightfully chocolate flavored. Just as he started to wrap his arms around her she pulled away, running one finger down the center of his chest as her voice rang low and sweet.

"Isn't there anything you would like to ask of me?"

She stepped in close, rubbing herself against his tented pants, her voice dripping honey.

"Or demand, rather?"

His eyes nearly crossed as she wrapped her fingers around his waistband, tugging his pants down a few maddening inches.

"Y-yes. Yes. There is. You should...um...you should definitely have some breakfast. S'most important meal of the day, y'know?"

She nodded seriously, making his heart seize as she pulled his pants down to his knees. He kicked them off hurriedly while she turned to the mixing bowl, going back to exactly the position she had left him in, lest she change her mind.

Please, please, please don't let her change her mind.

She brought the bowl closer to the edge of the table, dipping her finger in for a fat scoop of batter and drizzling it down the trembling ridges of his stomach. Then his heart stopped as she looked him directly in the eye and slowly sucked her finger into her mouth, pulling it out to show it licked completely clean of batter.

Sweet merciful fuck. That was... she was so...Fuck.

He rushed to pull her hair away from her face as she knelt before him, lapping up the batter in tiny dashes of her little pink tongue against his skin. She really took her time to give him a thorough cleaning; leaving his knees shaking slightly by the time she was finished.

Thank Merlin he was perched on the table, or else they'd have hit the floor by now.

Which was not such a bad idea now that he thought of it...

Shit!

He jumped as cold batter ran down his cock, dripping from the spoon she held over him. She looked up at him with a cheeky grin, shrugging her shoulders as she returned the spoon to the bowl.

"Oops."

That was it. She was really trying to kill him. It was going to be bloody fantastic, but he was going to die, of heart failure if nothing else.

Resigned to his terrible fate, he used both hands to pull her hair back, unwilling to miss a moment of this. He loved her hair, but he really, really loved watching her do what he thought she was probably about to do.

She sat back on her heels in front of him, inspecting the mess she had made. Leaning slowly forward, she lay the wet flat of her tongue against the base of him, stroking it all the way up to the tip. His cock jumped a bit, flinging batter up onto his stomach, but she just continued as though nothing had happened.

Bracing both hands against his thighs, she cleaned his shaft in spiraling licks, making very sure to get every speck of batter. Just when he thought he couldn't take any more of that, she simply pushed the head of his cock into her mouth; bathing him in sweet, wet warmth and making his hips buck against her.

"Fuck, Hermione!"

His voice cracked embarrassingly on the 'ee', but she didn't seem to notice, her focus instead remaining entirely on her efforts. He could really appreciate that kind of dedication.

Sucking lightly, she moved down until he could feel the back of her throat working against him, pulling back up to flick him with her tongue. She did this a few more times before he was forced to pull her away, tugging gently on the hair he held in both fists. Much more of that and he would...

She nuzzled against his cock, and the sight of him slick and shiny from her mouth, pushed up against her beautiful face was so bloody hot that he was literally speechless for a moment, his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth.

She stood, reaching for the bowl, but he caught her wrist in his hand, turning them so that she was bent over the table, her elbows resting on the surface.

"No more. Wanna fuck you."

She arched her back, wiggling her arse against him provocatively, letting loose something primal within his chest. He covered her from behind, latching his mouth onto her shoulder as he slid inside of her, groaning as her body gripped him tightly.

She made that sweet little sound in the back of her throat, the sound that never failed to drive him all the way to the edge of his control. An edge he had definitely passed a few tongue swipes ago.

Reaching around her body, he buried his fingers into the slick warmth between her thighs, feeling himself moving against her. The wet, sucking sound of their joining coupled with the feel of them melding together beneath his hand made him absolutely mad for her. He wanted her to truly be with him, to grow just as mad as he was. Bringing his fingers up, he teased her little peak of flesh, making her hips push back against him as she panted his name.

He loved his name on her lips like that, the way it always seemed to have come from somewhere deep within her, some secret source beyond her control.

He moved his fingers faster, quickly finding her favorite rhythm as he drove himself into her harder and deeper with every stroke. She said his name again, her voice breaking on a scream as her body shuddered beneath his, rippling around his cock.

Gripping her hips with both hands, he pounded into her like he was trying to break through to the other side, knowing from experience that she could take whatever he had to give. She leaned farther forward, letting him slip in that tiny bit deeper, the slick walls of her body giving under the relentless pressure of his cock.

He choked on her name as the tingling in his balls erupted into pulsing heat all over his body, pouring himself into her before collapsing against her back, nuzzling into the damp curls at the base of her neck.

"Mmm."

She nodded slowly, her head rocking against her folded arms on the table.

"My thoughts precisely."

He barked out a surprised laugh, withdrawing from her body and backing up until he could sit in a chair, gathering her into a boneless heap in his lap.

A rather sticky boneless heap.

"Fancy a shower?"

She moaned into his neck, definitely in the affirmative.

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