Author's Notes: I love this chapter so very much, it makes me laugh a great deal. I hope you'll like it too! If you do, please do leave me a review... come on, don't be shy.. :) Next week the rating will go up, so get ready... For now, enjoy as Ron and Hermione delve into the pleasures of bondage.. PS-To Winged-panther1, I'll accept tacos only with a generous portion of guacamole on the side!

III.

Ron walked alone into his brother's joke shop.

Hermione had said that she didn't want to be seen buying bondage tricks at the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. First of all, she would never hear the end of it from George and secondly, she was a respectable member of the Ministry and didn't want anybody to know that she had an active, and kinky, sex life. Naturally, everybody knew she had an active sex life after Rose was born, but still, she didn't want them to know that she was kinky. Especially because she wasn't.

Ron didn't really mind. The only person he didn't want to know – apart from his mother – was George, but he knew how to dodge his brother and any uncomfortable questions he might have asked him. Or so he had thought. Anyway, right at that moment, George was showing some of the new products to a Ministry employer who had to test their reliability before giving him permission to sell them. He would have been busy all day long probably, since he had had a creativity boost in the past months.

So, Ron had walked as quietly and invisibly as possible towards the adult corner, and had started to browse with nonchalance, strong in his belief that nobody would ever disturb him. His belief lasted less than a few minutes.

"Well, well, well."

Ron froze, a pair of pink, furry handcuffs in his hands. He turned to face his older brother, who was staring up at him with a grin on his face.

"And what do we have here?" asked George. "Someone who's looking for a way to spice up his sex life?"

Ron, with as much dignity as he could muster, put the handcuffs back on the shelf and crossed his arms. "No, I'm just checking if you changed anything in the shop since I left," he replied haughtily.

George laughed a laughter that it used to echo Fred's when he was still alive. "A little bird told me that someone isn't getting any and needs a little help from his brother…"

Ron closed his eyes. This was not happening. "Well, I guess Ginny has just been uninvited from my annual family Quidditch competition."

George chuckled. "Oh, come on," he said in a tone that didn't make Ron feel any better. "We just want to help our little brother."

"You can help me by evaporating and forgetting that I'm here," hissed Ron in return.

George grinned at Ron. He took a step forward, put an arm around Ron's shoulders and turned him around. "Come on, my dear, perverted, friend," he said out loud, "let me take you on a trip to our most famous bondage supplies."

A woman who was walking by with her child looked disgusted and disconcerted at them, Ron caught her glare and decided that he would have rather wanted the Earth to open up and swallow him now than walk around through shelves of handcuffs, gags, ropes and so on and so forth with George by his side.

"I hate you," Ron managed to mumble as George dragged him towards a shelf full of colourful ropes, neatly coiled up in transparent plastic bags. On the packages it read something different for every rope, depending on the colour – and, Ron noticed, on the material and the length as well. There was the brown Doggy-Style Leash that claimed to be hyper-resistant and to make people bark when they reached their orgasms (for the most animalistic of sex); the Snake of Passion, of a green colour, that promised that once it was put in contact with the naked skin, it moved independently, sliding on the person and trying to bite (without causing any physical damage, only psychological). There was also the Knife, red and short, it constricted the limbs of the person who was wearing it until it drew blood.

Ron looked at those models in horror. Blood was not exactly his ideal of a sexy night; a snake… no thank you, not after Nagini at least; and barking? He couldn't really understand how that would have made their passion come back.

"Seen anything that you like?" asked George.

Ron turned to look at him and noticed that his arms were full of similar objects. "We have a blindfold that makes you see everything except the person in front of you," tried to advertise George, "or we have a feather that keeps tickling the two lovers while they are in the act."

Ron stared as George showed him a picture of a man and woman in their underwear laughing as they tried to kiss in bed. He raised his eyes on his brother and shook his head. "I would rather buy without your help," he said sharply. "It's quite a private matter."

George smiled. "Private? It was in Ginny's newsletter."

Ron's blue eyes widened. "She has a newsletter about this?" he roared.

"I'm joking, naturally," he said matter-of-factly, "no need to get all worked up." He put some things back on the shelves, but Ron's relief was short lived when he decided to grab some more objects and shove them under his brother's nose.

"Pumpkin flavoured handcuffs?" he asked, showing them to him. "You can chew on them for hours." Ron shook his head. "Cat o' nine tails?" he continued, "and these are real cat tails, the right amount of softness and painfulness." The tails moved and beckoned at Ron.

"I don't know," he said annoyed, "I really think I would really like to have some time to browse through your articles alone, George."

George chuckled. "Come on, Ickle Ronniekins," he said, "you know this is not going to happen."

Ron looked at him and if a glare could kill his brother would be already dead. "I'm sure you have other things to do, more important than this."

"Nothing is more important than embarrassing you."

Ron clenched his fists. "Really?" he asked. "How about I tell everybody that you invented the Patented Daydream Pirates Charm and use it on a weekly basis?"

A man who was walking by, stopped and looked at them with a puzzled look. Ron smiled satisfied, but his smile soon turned to disbelief when that man stepped towards George all excited. "Really?" he asked, "I love that Charm. I have always dreamed of being a Pirate. Thank you for creating such a lovely way to escape my dull life."

George smiled back. "You are very welcome, Sir," he said, shaking his hand. "How about a complimentary set of Pumpkin handcuffs?" He placed the handcuffs right in the man's hands and nodded. The man thanked him again and walked away whistling a Pirate song.

"You were saying?" asked George to an exasperated Ron.

"Never mind," hissed Ron.

"Right," said George, "I believe we were having a look at the cat, weren't we?"

Ron snorted. "You know what?" he bit out, "forget it. I don't want you here while I choose the perfect bondage accessory for Hermione and me." He took a couple of steps towards the exit and stopped. "I will find something else at Zonko's." He knew he had said the magic words.

George jumped in front of Ron before he could walk past the Age Line. "Don't say that name in my shop," he grumbled. "Are you crazy to publicize my rival here?"

Ron crossed his arms. "Then leave me alone," he said matter-of-factly.

George flared his nostrils. "Okay," he hissed, "okay. I'm going." He waited a few seconds, looking Ron straight in his eyes, before he finally went. He was probably waiting for an apology from his younger brother, but that never came.

Finally, Ron was able to browse through the kinky accessories with his fellow perverted costumers alone. Without his brother constantly buggering him, he was free to analyze every object and decide what Hermione would like and what she wouldn't like. He knew what he liked, but it had to work both ways.

He decided that the ropes were promising, if not for the fact that the ones he had already seen were weird, at least because there was a huge variety amongst which to choose. Apart from the three he had already seen, he noticed one called Burning Fire, that became hotter and hotter until one reached his peak and the Icy Feeling that, on the contrary, became colder. All very interesting, and all to fit kinks and tastes that Ron didn't even know existed, let alone experienced. What got his attention, though, was the Adjustable Pleasure, a brownish, extremely short piece of rope, that changed material – from rough rope to silky velvet to serve every taste –, colour – all the colours of the rainbows included! – and length – from a foot to a hundred for complete wrap. Seemed a good option for Ron, and he could already see Hermione tied up to the posts of their bed and himself doing whatever he—

"You're imagining your girlfriend, mate?" asked a rough voice beside him.

Ron turned to stare at the face of someone who might have started to cross Age Lines a couple of days before. "My wife," he said gruffly. "Excuse me," he added, walking away quickly with the Adjustable Pleasure in his hands.

He tried to hide his purchase as much as possible without giving the impression of stealing it, but he knew that every attempt to discretion was futile when he saw that George was waiting for him at the till.

He gestured for Ron to skip the queue and when he refused, George called him with his voice magically amplified. Humiliated, Ron walked to the till. "You found everything you needed in the adult corner, Sir?" he asked, his voice still amplified.

The queue murmured behind them. Ron glared at him, he took out his wand and pointed it to George. "Finite Incantatem," he muttered, making George's voice come back to normal.

George cleared his throat. "I see you don't know how to have fun, Sir," he said, "maybe this item you are purchasing will help you loosen up a bit." He seemed to think about what he had just said and burst into laughter. "You need to be tied up in order to loosen up!"

Ron grimaced. "Yes, hilarious, can you tell me how much it costs so that I can get out of here." Never to return again, he added in his mind.

"I'm sorry, but I can't possibly let you take this out of my shop before verifying that everything is in order," said George, opening the package.

"What are you doing?" asked Ron irritated. "Everything is in order!"

"That is for me to decide," said George knowingly, proceeding to verify the content.

Ron decided that he wouldn't have had any of that. "Give it back," he hissed, grabbing the rope and stuffing it back into the package.

George put his hands in his pockets. "Well, someone is a bit on edge."

"Just tell me how much," he hissed.

George started tapping the till, but stopped half-way through. "You know what? Take this," he said, taking something from his pocket and putting it in front of Ron. "It's a gag, just in case Hermione doesn't shut up during sex."

Ron pushed it back towards George. "No, thank you," he said, flushing even more.

"It's complimentary," replied George, pushing it towards Ron.

"I don't think it would be appreciated," hissed Ron, pushing it once again towards his brother.

"I'm sure it will," said George gingerly, picking it up and putting it in a bag. "Here you are!" He smiled broadly as Ron paid. "Hope to see you soon in my shop!" he called behind his brother as he left.

ooo

"That must have been so embarrassing," said Hermione as she served Ron some mashed potatoes. She felt a bit guilty, Rose loved mashed potatoes and she had chosen the night her little daughter was at Ginny and Harry's to cook them. "George should be kept under a Silencing Charm all the time when he is in his shop."

Ron smiled. He agreed. "Great minds think alike, then."

Hermione smiled back. "So, can I ask you what did you buy?" she questioned, poking the peas in her plate. "Or does it have to be a surprise until tonight."

Ron put a mouthful of roast beef and mashed potatoes in his mouth, but that did not prevent him from replying. "Suvpvise."

ooo

Hermione looked at the piece of rope in her hands. Short, rough, brown. Altogether uninviting. She put it in her lap, which was covered in a silky night gown with a bright floral pattern, and picked up the gag. It was just a white sphere. As simple as that. No strings attached, no fancy features. The thing that set it apart from a Muggle gag was that this secured itself in one's mouth until a password was spoken out loud. One had to decide the password before the sex started, and only one password was allowed, but Hermione knew that since she had read every single piece of instruction that had been put in both packages. There was no way they were going to have problems that night.

Ron walked out of the bathroom. His milky skin was covered in his gown down to his knees, his chest was visible where the gown parted and his hair was a messy, flaming nest of locks.

"Are you ready?" he asked in a business-like way that made Hermione feel uncomfortable and less secure all together.

"I am," she replied, putting the rope on the bed and standing up. "We need to find a password for this first." She raised the gag in front of her husband.

Ron grabbed it. "Hmm, how about 'Ron is sexy'?"

Hermione snorted. "Please, something that doesn't make me laugh during sex," she replied, sarcastically.

Ron pretended to be hurt. "Wow, wrong answer, Mrs. Weasley, but thank you for playing with us."

"How about…" she asked, taking the gag into her hands. "'I love you'?"

Ron looked unconvinced. "Isn't that too romantic for the kind of sex that we are going to have?" he asked.

Hermione crossed her arms. "First of all, you can have romantic bondage sex," she said, unsure if that were true at all. "Second, if by any chances my husband wants to say 'I love you' to me, I can reply to him."

"I don't know," he continued, "I thought it should have been something funny and sexy…"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Listen, if you want to use some dirty word you already know that I am not going to like that, right? 'I love you' is perfect and if you can't see it, I will register the password and put it in your mouth to show you what a great idea this is." She looked at him cunningly. "But then you have to make me say that 'I love you'."

Ron walked towards her and smiled. "You would say that straight away, you wouldn't be able to resist," he said in a low, silky voice, his hand sliding down his wife's back. "You love me, you love me, you love me."

Hermione put a hand on his chest and took a step back. "Watch me," she said. She pressed the gag in three different places and brought it to her mouth, saying, "I love you." The gag didn't seem to change particularly, but before either of them could analyze it, Hermione grabbed a flabbergasted Ron and shoved the gag in his mouth. The ball increased its diameter, accommodating to Ron's mouth.

"Mgnph!" he said as the ball parted his lips and secured itself to his mouth. "Mhgnh!" Every time Ron tried to say something his salivation increased and the ball rolled in his mouth.

Hermione bit her bottom lip in an attempt not to laugh. "Oh my, Ron," she said, placing a hand on Ron's cheek, "we've finally found something that shuts you up!"

Ron glared at her, pointing to his mouth. "Ghmph!" he said.

"Sorry, didn't quite catch that," Hermione replied, amused.

He glared even more darkly. Hermione was obviously the only one to find that amusing. He tapped the ball and gestured for it to be taken out.

"Not that quickly," said Hermione, bringing her hands to the belt that kept her gown closed. "First, you tie me and then I de-gag you."

Ron seemed to ponder it and to decide against any more protestation. It was clear that he was not going to win against Hermione. Maybe it was that, maybe it was the fact that Hermione had opened her gown and she was now standing before him in her lingerie. A small, lacy, black bra and coordinated thong that let very little room for imagination. Some saliva literally dropped on Ron's chin, partly because of the gag and partly because of his increased salivation at the view of Hermione's body.

She looked at him with a satisfied grin. Even after she had gone through a pregnancy, she still got it. "So," she said, brushing the bed with her fingers. "How shall we do it?"

Ron, unable to talk, gestured for the bed, he moved to the side opposite his wife and grabbed Hermione's wrist, guiding her gently on the mattress. Without a sound, he made her lie down, his hands wandering lightly on her warm skin. He seemed to have forgotten the gag for now, but Hermione was waiting impatiently for his lips to trail down her body. His fingertips indulged lustily on the edge of her thong, but before he could explore south, Hermione grabbed his hand and gave him the rope. She didn't say anything, but nodded towards the rope and Ron seemed to understand, because he grabbed her left hand and stretched it towards the bedpost on the extreme left of the bed. He started to wrap the rope around her wrist and as he did so the rope changed, from brown it became jet black, turning as shining and as soft as silk. The more he wrapped it around her wrist the longer it got, so that Ron could not see the end of it. He wrapped the silky material around the bedpost and secured Hermione's wrist with a strong knot.

Hermione tried to wriggle her hand free, but the knot was too strong for her. She nodded and smiled to Ron. "Looks like you know how to tie a woman to a bed," she teased him.

Ron looked at her and tried to smile, but the gag didn't let him. Instead, he kneeled on the bed, a leg on each side of Hermione's waist, looked down at her with lust-filled eyes and grabbed her other wrist. The rope was becoming long enough to reach the other side of the bed and Ron wrapped Hermione's right hand the same way he did the left.

Once the second hand was secured and Hermione was immobilized from the waist up, he looked first at the rope and then at her legs. It took him some time to make up his mind and decide he wanted to tie up her legs as well.

Hermione looked at the rope that was now expanding all around her, she was not too keen on all this black satin uselessly sitting on the bed, she was envisioning scenarios of Ron getting tangled in it as he made love to her. Maybe her husband could be a bit creative and do something with it. "Isn't there too much rope around me?" she asked him right before bursting into laughter when Ron tickled her foot as he wrapped the rope around it.

He looked at her, with his right index finger he touched his nose twice and pointed towards Hermione. He agreed. He got off the bed and went to the vanity table in the corner of the room. He grabbed his wand and pointed it to the rope. "Dmghn!" he spluttered, making Hermione melt in a fit of giggles. He glared at her and put his wand down, grabbing instead a pair of clippers.

"Are you sure we should cut it?" asked Hermione, without knowing why she should be worried. Nowhere it said that they should have not cut the rope, she would have read it.

Ron nodded seriously.

"I thought you could have used the rope to wrap it on my stomach or around my breasts," she suggested, flushing a little. And she had thought that in this very situation she was well past flushing!

Ron shrugged his shoulders to dismiss the idea. He probably just wanted the gag out of his mouth and to start whatever they were going to start. He brought the clippers to the satin and slowly and meticulously started to cut the material. Hermione had to admit that it was giving away pretty easily under the clippers, and she too couldn't wait for the two of them to be set and ready. So she shut up and decided that it was better if she let him work.

The ribbon creaked softly as the small scissors cut through it, but when Ron reached the end of the rope it hissed and cracked open menacingly.

Hermione looked puzzled at Ron. It hissed and cracked? She glanced at the rope, the two endings that Ron had just cut were pushing their heads together, as if to try to merge in one piece once again. When they understood that they couldn't fuse again they turned towards Ron. Ron took a step back, his eyes wide as the rope – which had now become two ropes - tried to catch him.

"Waheph?" he asked, looking at Hermione.

The ropes moved towards her and tickled her sides. She wriggled on the bed, and that was definitely the one thing that she shouldn't have done since the more she moved the more the ropes tighten around her body. "It's like the Devil's Snare," she said, as the ropes wrapped more tightly around her. She stopped moving and the ropes slowed down, even though they were not really stopping or even releasing her a little. "No, it's not," she concluded. "This thing isn't stopping." She glared at Ron. "I told you not to cut it!"

Ron glared back at her. He wasn't going to let her blame him for this. "Mnhph!" he said, pointing to the gag.

"I love you! I love you!" she cried as the rope continued to creep around her body. Up her legs, down her arms, around her breasts, tight around her waist, over her thong. She squirmed every time it tightened around her most sensitive areas. "Do something, Ron!"

There was no reply. She looked up at him and her eyes widened. "I love you!" she repeated dumbly. "Why isn't it working? I love you!"

The gag didn't move from Ron's mouth, it only rolled and splashed his saliva here and there. Ron put two fingers in his mouth and tried to get it out manually. It didn't bring him any result except for a great deal of pain.

"Hmnph!" he spluttered, angrily.

"I didn't do anything wrong!" retorted Hermione sourly. "I set the password all right!" The rope tightened around her body, and as she looked down now she saw that her body was covered almost completely in rope and said rope was starting to change. From the black shiny satin to the brown rough rope to a cold and thick chain to red plastic and so on and so forth as if out of control. "Do something," she said, half scared and half annoyed, before a piece of rope covered her mouth.

"Mnhph," said Ron weakly.

"Mnhph," replied Hermione. She widened her eyes and twitched her nose, moving her lips from right to left.

Ron walked closer, he extended a hand and grabbed the rope, pulling it from Hermione's mouth. "Do something!" she said, unsure of what he might have done anyway. "You have to—mphgh!" The rope was back on her mouth.

Ron went to move it again, but this time the rope attached to her cheek when he pulled and threw itself to Ron's hand when he moved away, very much like a snake would do. "It doesn't have teeth, Ron," said Hermione as her mouth was now free. "Don't be afraid." She sounded annoyed.

"Mhnphn!" said Ron, grabbing the rope forcefully.

"Yes, you are afraid of a stupid rope," she retorted, before Ron spluttered something at her and let go of the rope, again, this time on purpose. "Hphmn!"

They stood there for a while, both too stubborn to do anything, all they did was to mmmph at each other every now and then. Their eyes burning with rage. Finally, after a good ten minutes of this nonsensical behaviour, Ron dragged his feet to the bed and moved the rope another time.

She looked at him crossly. "You have to go see George," she hissed.

Ron pointed at the gag his nostrils flaring.

Hermione jerked her head. "Well, what about me?" she cried. "I'm stuck to the bed!"

Ron shook his head. Then pointed at Hermione's body.

"What?" she asked sharply.

He nodded more insistently.

"What?" she asked again. "Get a quill and a piece of parchment, for Merlin's sake!"

That was quite brilliant, Ron had to give her that. He slapped the rope back on her mouth and grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment from Hermione's desk. He scribbled something on it and showed it to Hermione.

I don't want George to see you like this, it read.

Ron grabbed the rope and Hermione shouted, "I'd rather have him seeing me like this than staying on this bed forever."

He kept the rope in his hand and wrote something else.

How do I tell him what happened? I'm wearing a gag if you haven't noticed.

"Write to him, like you are writing to me," she said and it took her a good deal of self-control not to add the word 'idiot'.

Ron flushed.

Okay, he wrote. He let go of the rope, which went back to Hermione's mouth and looked at her, his wand in his hand. He waved goodbye to his wife and was about to Apparate when he noticed her writhing furiously. He rushed at her side and grabbed the rope from her mouth.

"For Merlin's beard," she bit out, "wear something!"

ooo

Ron Apparated in George's living room without as much as a notice. Naturally, etiquette dictated that he should have Apparated in a bush near the front door and then knocked on the door, but he had no time for etiquette nor other shenanigans. He needed to talk – write, in this case – to George and drag him to his house if that were necessary.

George's living room was deserted. Ron was not surprised. Being it almost midnight, he imagined that Fred and Roxanne were sound asleep – as Rose surely was at Harry and Ginny's – and that George and Angelina were probably going to bed at this very moment. He pondered what to do. There was no way he would have been able to attract their attention without them wanting to hex him before they actually noticed it was him. He could have sent them his Jack Russell Patronus, if it weren't for the fact that the gag in his mouth reduced him to silence and he had never been an expert of non-verbal spells. Plus, he just wanted to barge into George's room and make roll him out of bed, because if it weren't for him he wouldn't be standing in his living room at midnight, with a gag in his mouth while his wife was tied to their bed.

He started to climb up the stairs. George and Angelina's room was the first door on the left. Ron put his hand on the handle, but on second thought he decided that he wasn't too keen on maybe stumbling upon George and Angelina while they were in the middle of something. Angelina wouldn't have been too happy either and that would have been one awkward Christmas Dinner that they would spend next year.

He didn't really care about waking them up or disturbing them in any way, though. Well, he would have apologized to Angelina, but it was not his problem if the woman had married a wart.

Ron took a deep breath, sucking in some saliva, and banged his fist with force on the door. He was ready to shout something, but was reminded by the ball and the saliva that had dropped on his chin that he couldn't.

He heard hustling and steps on the floor. Then the door swung open and, "Expelliarmus!" someone screamed. His wand flew against Roxanne's bedroom door while Ron himself was pushed against the wall by the spell. He moaned out in pain as a painting fell from the wall and landed straight on his head, shattering the glass all around him.

"Ron?" exclaimed Angelina, surprised. Her wand still in the air.

"Oh, Ron!" added George, walking to him and picking up the painting. "This was an expensive piece of art, how could you?"

Ron glared at him. "Mhnphg!" he spluttered, shaking the glass from his hair and shoulders as he stood up.

"Sorry? I didn't quite get it," said George, snickering.

Angelina went to retrieve Ron's wand and gave it to him. "I'm so sorry, Ron," she said, "but you scared us."

"I was not scared," pointed out George.

Angelina snorted. "Right, you scared me," she continued, looking at her brother-in-law. "What do you have in your mouth?"

Ron took out parchment and quill and wrote furiously against the wall.

"It's your husband's doing," Angelina read out loud. She looked at George seriously. "What did you do?" she asked, sighing.

"I didn't do anything!" he said, trying to sound as innocent as possible. "Ron came to my shop to buy some items for his and Hermione's libido and I sold them to him."

Ron flushed red and if a glare could kill George would have been dead for the second time. He pushed the parchment into the wall and wrote on it with so much force to puncture the parchment and write on the wall.

"Will you please shut up, George?" read Angelina. "He is right."

George looked outraged. "What? He first blames me and then he doesn't want me to defend myself."

Ron rolled his eyes then looked at Angelina. He tried to mouth 'help', but didn't quite succeed because she just looked back at him with her face deep in concentration. He decided to keep writing, maybe explaining his woes. He showed the parchment to Angelina.

"George must have tampered with this gag, because Hermione's password didn't work," she read, "and Hermione is tied up in bed and I'm not able to get rid of the rope."

Angelina looked at George. "What in Merlin's name did you do?" she asked her husband, tired more than angry or worried.

George grinned. "Just a little revenge for the way Ron treated me in my shop," he confessed.

Ron widened his eyes and turned to scribble some more. This time his writing was all messy and almost illegible.

"Revenge? You were the one embarrassing me in front of the other customers!" read George in a mocking, high pitched voice. "Well, I was just trying to help!"

Ron took a sharp breath. He grabbed his wand and waved it in front of George. Some red sparkles flew from it and landed on George's chest.

"Ouch!" the man said, looking at the places where the sparkles bore holes into his pyjamas. "That actually hurt."

Ron looked satisfied and pointed to his gag and then to his wand. The message was clear, either get rid of the gag or I'll make your pyjamas look like a colander.

George rolled his eyes. "Ron Weasley has a teeny-weeny… brain."

Ron looked furious, he raised his wand to point it towards George and hit him some more with red sparkles, but instead of doing so, he almost chocked on the gag that had suddenly shrunk to its original size and was ready to be spluttered out.

He coughed and spat it out much unceremoniously, saliva trailing on the floor behind the ball. His mouth finally closed and only now he noticed the discomfort and pain that the gag had produced into his mouth.

"Was that the password?" asked Angelina, unimpressed.

George smiled and stepped towards her, he circled her shoulders and grabbed her chin, making her look at him. "It's not my fault if your husband is a genius," he said, huskily, then he leaned in to kiss her.

She placed her hand on his chest and looked at him. "No, no," she said, simply.

"No, no?" he asked deluded.

"If I could, I would ground you," she replied calmly.

"You should ground him!" exclaimed Ron, his voice hoarse and his face still red for the chocking scare.

George grinned. "That's a miracle, he can talk!"

Ron shot him a glare. "Just tell me what to do with the rope before I hex you," he rasped.

"That depends on what you did," George said, seriously. "My items can be pretty unforgiving if they are mistreated."

Ron grumbled. "I cut it," he confessed.

George's eyes widened in a very theatrically way. "You cut it?" he asked, raising his voice. "You cut it? You cut my poor rope? Oh, poor rope."

Ron seemed ready to kill. "George, I swear…"

"Calm down," he replied, "everybody knows you shouldn't cut a rope. Didn't you read the instructions?"

"There were no instructions," hissed Ron, "Hermione would have known."

George patted his forehead. "Ah, right, your instructions are—" He took something from his pocket. "—here!" he said, handing Ron a small piece of paper that said 'Instructions'. It only had three points and the first one was 'Never cut the rope'.

Angelina shook her head softly. "Why is it in your pyjamas pocket?" she asked.

"I took it when he was at the till, and carried it since. I just wanted to be ready in case Ron was coming with some sort of problem," he confessed, "I just couldn't imagine that it would have been this hilarious."

Ron's eyes flashed and as he jumped on George – forgetting completely about magic and his wand – he decided that he wanted him to at least come out with a black eye.

"George! Ron!" cried Angelina as the two brothers rolled on the floor. "Stop this at once!" She looked as they hit a table and a precious vase fell on the floor and shattered into pieces. She rolled her eyes when Roxanne and Fred started to cry in their bedrooms awoken by the noise.

"Petrificus Totalus!" she yelled and the two men stopped their assault and lay there. "You are just like children," she hissed to them, pushing an incredibly heavy Ron off her husband. She waved her wand and lifted the spell.

"Did you just petrified us?" asked Ron, standing up and rubbing his head confused.

"I did," she said fiercely, "You are impossible." She looked at her husband. "You tell your brother how to untie Hermione."

George leaned against the wall to stand up. "Well, I would have to go with him and—"

"No," she cut him off, "I'm going with him, you stay with the children and put them back to sleep."

George opened his mouth to reply, but looked very much like a boy being punished by his mother. "Okay," he finally agreed. "One person has to stroke the rope and the other puts it in a box or something."

"What kind of box?" asked Ron sourly.

"Any kind of box," replied George, "as long as it has a lid that can be closed. Then you seal it and take it back to the shop for repairing."

"I don't want it back!"

"Well, then you take it back to the shop for refunding."

Ron seemed to relax. "That's more like it," he agreed.

"Great," said Angelina, "let's go, Ron." She linked her arm to his and looked at George. "They better be asleep when I'm back."

George smiled and waved as Ron and Angelina Apparated from the landing.

As it was Angelina the one who was actually Apparating – dragging Ron with her – they arrived right outside the house.

"Come on," said Ron, preparing for the next Apparition that would have brought them inside.

"Wait!" said Angelina, stopping him.

Ron looked at her expectantly. She should have had a very good reason for delaying Hermione's release. "Yes?" he asked as patiently as he could.

"Thank you," she said, lowering her eyes.

"Pardon?" he asked, confused. "Thank you for what?"

"You are the only one that doesn't act like George is in constant need of compassion since… well, since it happened."

Ron flushed. "That's okay," he mumbled.

"You are the only one with whom he behaves like this," she whispered, smiling slightly. "You know, as if Fred were still here."

Ron felt a bit uncomfortable. The conversation had reached an unexpected gloomy point, so different from a few minutes ago when he was rolling on the floor with his older brother. He decided that he had to light the mood. "Well, lucky me," he said weakly, smiling.

Angelina smiled back. "Right," she said. She looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Let's go," she added, "I believe we have someone to untie."

They Apparated in Ron and Hermione's bedroom and, to their surprise, found a soundly asleep Hermione. She was still wrapped in the black rope, but looked at least resigned if not peaceful.

"Get a box," Angelina told Ron in a hushed tone.

"Where?"

Angelina looked at him weirdly. "It's your house."

He nodded, even though he knew that he had no idea where to look. Hermione was the one keeping everything tidy. When he came back he was holding a cooking pot with a stainless steel lid.

"I don't think Hermione would be too happy if you used her pot," she pointed out.

"She will be happy enough when she'll be free."

Angelina nodded, then she started caressing the rope on Hermione's mouth. Three things happened: the rope moved and purred, Hermione woke up looking a bit confused and Ron did his best to collect the rope into the pot.

"Angelina?" asked Hermione, who was surely expecting George. Probably she was relieved because as the rope disentangled from her body her lingerie became more and more visible.

Angelina smiled. "I'm sorry for this Hermione," she said, "George just wanted to have fun at his brother's expenses." She continued to pet the rope like a snake and smiled. "I thought best for him to stay home. I didn't want you to hex my husband."

Hermione tried to smile. "That is wise," she said. "Thank you, Angelina."

"It's the least I can do," she replied. As she started on the second half of the rope.

Ron and Hermione didn't talk. They didn't even look at each other except for some furtive glances stolen here and there when the other wasn't looking. Probably Hermione wanted to scream at Ron and Ron wanted to tell her how all the fault was George's, not a discussion they wanted to have in front of Angelina.

"Here you go," said Angelina, untying Hermione's wrist. "These were the last few feet of rope." She handed it to Ron, who closed the pot and gave it to Angelina.

"What are you doing with my pot, Ron?" asked Hermione, sitting up and covering herself with the duvet.

Ron rolled his eyes. Somehow he knew he had done something wrong. "Giving it to Angelina," he explained, "George will take the rope to the shop."

"Your mother gave that pot to me," replied Hermione haughtily. "What will she think when she finds out that you gave it away."

"Then keep the damn pot and put the rope into another box!" cried Ron, grabbing the pot from Angelina's hands and putting it on Hermione's vanity table.

"Well, I better go," said Angelina, shyly.

Hermione smiled tiredly. "Absolutely, thank you, Angelina," she said, "you were such a darling."

Angelina smiled back. "Good night, then," she wished both of them.

"Good night," chorused Ron and Hermione as she Apparated.

Once they were left alone they looked at each other in the most annoyed way possible. It was clear that sex was off the table that night. Hermione lay down and covered herself with the duvet, she rolled over and gave her back to Ron as he divested and got into bed.

He lied down on his back and whispered, "I don't suppose you want to—"

"No."

"Me neither."

ooo

"Tell me it isn't true."

Ron rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry, but it is true," he said to his best-friend. "We didn't have sex, our experience with bondage was traumatic, we haven't talked to each other in two days and Hermione lost the pot that my mother gave her."

Harry didn't reply. He decided there was nothing to say in this situation. Instead he did the only thing that he could actually possibly do. He burst into a fit of laughter so genuine and loud that Ron had to leave the room to avoid hexing his friend and fellow Auror.