s: romione

Checkmate?

A/N: The amazing weasleywrinkles came up with this drabble idea and had the kindness to let me write it! This story only exists thanks to her awesome headcanon, so all credit to her for that :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the actual plot of this particular story. Basically, I own nothing. At all.

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He was an idiot. A complete and utter idiot. All she wanted to do was finish her report on the Werewolf Legislation Act of 1967 for her work, but Ron wasn’t letting her have any peace. It was always ‘Do this Hermione’ or 'Do that Hermione’ or 'I broke something Hermione’. She was sick of it. The report was due in 10 days! Didn’t Ron understand the importance of not getting behind in paperwork? But then again, he wouldn’t understand her need to get things done on time, would he? Being such a talented procrastinator himself, he’d leave everything until the very last minute, do it all at once instead of breaking it into little, manageable pieces like herself.

It was a wonder he’d survived handling all the paperwork and reports needed to become an Auror. She’d never had thought it possible of him back in their Hogwarts days. It proved that he could do it, if he tried hard enough and put enough effort into it. Despite what most people thought, Ron Weasley was actually a very intelligent person if he applied himself. Yes, it was true that Ron had matured an awful lot during his training to be an Auror, but it was also true that he could be a complete immature git at times.

Today was evidently one of those times….

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45. Tease

Arthur catches them in the shed when she is pregnant with Rose.

They arrived a few minutes earlier and were supposed to head to the house but someone seemed to be horny and had grabbed his hand, determinately leading him towards the shed.

“Not that I’m complaining you know, but what did I do?” Ron manages to say in between kisses and gasps of air.

She flushes even more, he groans at the sight.

“I- I don’t know… After we Apparated I- I looked at you and y- you were out of breath and your hair was all over the place and I- I-” She’s trying to catch her breath too, her chest rising fast under his gaze. Her hair is uncontrollable, cheeks red and he perfectly understands what happened. He grabs her hips and slams her body against his and she moans in his mouth in reply. He can feel the soft swell of her burgeoning stomach against him and his knees tremble under the overwhelming rush of love and pride washing through him.

He needs to feel more of her, to have her closer.

His lifts her up on the table and her legs wrap around his hips easily. His hands sneak under her dress as he hears the shed’s door creak.

Crap.

“Erhm. I- Sorry. Didn’t mean to- I was looking for… Erhm-” Arthur stutters before becoming suddenly highly interested with the shed’s ceiling.

Hermione buried her face in his neck as soon as she heard the door, meanwhile he’s still staring at his father like a deer caught in headlights.

A very brightly red deer.

They’re married for heavens sake. His wife is pregnant. It’s not like his father thinks this baby came from magical apparition.

Finally after an awkward long silent minute, Hermione seems to be the most composed of the three of them, she lifts her head and clears her throat.

“Tell Molly we’ll be there in a minute.”

When they get inside, he’s certain George is smirking and Ron’s gaze instantly shifts towards his father. He is trying far too much not look at him and Hermione.

He sighs and looks at his brother. “You heard us Apparate didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Ronniekin,” George replies a little too sincerely, mischief dancing in his eyes. “You sure you’re having a girl Hermione,” he then asks, glancing at Hermione, all too amused still.

“Yes, why?” She frowns and Ron groans internally.

He’s not sure what his brother has under his sleeve but he’s sure as hell Hermione won’t like it.

“Well, it’s just that pregnant women are usually, you know, hornier, when they’re expecting a boy.”

And there it is.

George!” Angelina and Molly tuts indignantly in unison. The older woman ends up also slapping a half-coughing half-laughing Arthur on the arm.

Harry looks like he always does in these situations, like he’d rather be somewhere else. And Ginny is giggling by his side.

Surprisingly, Hermione raises her chin up and sits calmly at the diner table. George wiggles his eyebrows towards them at the end of the table, and Ron isn’t sure he understands what just happened.

That is until he catches sight of Hermione’s wand under the table. She’s always been the best at nonverbal spells. He smirks as he puts his hand on her knee under the table, giving her his approval. Not that she needs it.

George never learns. Never ever mess with Hermione. And since she’s been pregnant, her magic has been a little more intense.

He glances at his wife, a small smile dancing on her lips. This diner has gotten way more interesting.