Disclaimers: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including, but not limited to, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Notes: I have received a lot of attention here on this website lately and all those new reviews and PM's had made me want to go back to write again, even though I thought I had sworn off fan-fictions forever (despite the fact that, alas!, some of my works are incomplete). I hope you appreciate it! Now, before you go ahead and flame me senseless, I just wanted to remind you that a) I wrote this (and I mean the whole story, five chapters in total) in less than a week), b) I am NOT an English mother-tongue (me is Italiana!), c) no beta-reader was harmed in the making of this story (read: unbetaed). Read at your own risk! If you have something nice to say about this story and want to let me know, go ahead and do so, I love reviews so very much and will be forever grateful! Also I wanted to dedicate this fan-fiction to my best-friend in the world, the only person who read all of my stories and found them all wonderful (the fact that she is my best-friend might have influenced her judgement). You know who you are, I miss you!

I.

The Leaky Cauldron welcomed his costumers with an inviting heat that made them forget about the cold and damp outside. Harry himself, on walking into the pub, sensed a pleasant warm breeze caressing his cheekbones and he felt the urge to unbutton his jacket. At the same time, though, his glasses misted up, making impossible for him to distinguish anything or anybody at all in the pub. Except for Ron, naturally. Ron and his mass of red hair, slightly ruffled, and his incredible tall figure stood out from the crowd of customers in every situation. As Harry wiped his lenses, he noticed that he was slightly hunched on what looked like a gigantic bowl of ice cream. Three tall glasses were lined on the table in front of him, two empty and one half-full. Pumpkin juice. Harry ignored why Ron had asked him to meet him there – meeting outside their own houses usually meant he needed to discuss something private, so private that Ginny and Hermione were not allowed to know – but what he knew was that his friend wasn't looking good at all.

Harry walked towards Ron and sat in front of him as his friend brought a spoonful of ice-cream to his mouth.

"Ice-cream and pumpkin juice," the black haired man said, "this must be an emergency."

Ron grimaced at his best friend's words and didn't wait to swallow the ice-cream to reply. "Please, I have a headache."

"I think that's the ice-cream."

"It's not the ice-cream, the ice-cream is what I'm using to curing my headache," explained Ron seriously.

"Right," said Harry, smiling. "And this is 'bowl of medicine' number…?"

"Four," replied Ron, "and this stuff is going to cost me a fortune, they have to keep going to Florean Fortescue's to get it."

A waitress came to take Harry's order. The man asked for a Butterbeer and a favour. "I'm sorry," he started, "clearly my friend has a problem: he can't control himself when it's up to food. Can you just ignore any other request he may have? Especially if it's ice-cream or pumpkin juice."

The waitress giggled and nodded as she left. Ron glared at Harry. "I was just about to order another bowl."

"I know," said Harry, flashing an innocent smile.

Ron rolled his eyes and downed the remaining pumpkin juice from his glass.

"So?" Harry asked as the waitress placed the Butterbeer right in front of him. "Is there a reason why you asked me to come here?" He sipped thoughtfully from his glass. "Are we on a date and I don't know it?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Please, as if I'd ever ask you out. You are not my type."

Harry ignored him. "Because I am married to your sister and you are married to Hermione…"

Ron looked nauseated, Harry didn't know if it were for the ice-cream or the fact that he said that he was married to his sister. Hopefully it was not the bit on Hermione that disgusted him. "Don't remind me…" he said. "Hermione and I…" He swallowed. "We have… problems…" He looked very interested in his bowl, and started to ripple the melted ice-cream that was collecting on the bottom.

Harry studied Ron's face. Ron and Hermione having problems? This was not good news indeed, apart from the obvious fact that he loved them dearly, he highly disliked to see Ron moping about these things in his presence. He could be extremely melodramatic. On the other hand though, in the past Ron had confessed about having problems with Hermione multiple times and some of these problems were just too stupid to even be considered as such. For example: a) Hermione thought Ron snored too loudly, she told him and he didn't know what to do about it; b) Ron didn't like Hermione's recipe for the meat pie, but didn't quite know how to tell her; c) Ron had no idea how a TV worked but didn't want Hermione to know. So, every time Ron told Harry that he and Hermione were having problems, he always wanted to know what the problems were before he started to worry.

"Problems," he said flatly. "What kind of problems?"

Ron's cheeks turned pink, a colour that did not suit his complexion. "You know… problems…" He looked at Harry. "That kind of problems…"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "That kind of problems?" he asked without understanding.

Ron glared at him. "Don't be thick, Harry," he replied heatedly. "Those problems." He lowered his voice. "You know… sex problems." He flushed an even deeper shade of crimson and tried to drink from his glass again, only to notice that it was empty.

Harry shifted uncomfortably on the chair. Too much information. "Oh," was all he could say.

"Yeah," replied Ron. "Help?" he asked, looking up at him.

Harry's eyes became huge behind his glasses. "Help?" he said in disbelief. "What kind of help would I be able to give you?"

Ron tapped nervously on the glass. "A piece of advice?"

Harry downed half of the pint he had in his hands. A piece of advice on Hermione and Ron's sexual life meant that he had to listen to the problem and then think about a solution that involved his two best friends private lives. He was not too keen on that. And if Hermione, by any chances, came to know that they had talked about their sex life – and that Harry had been giving her husband advice on it –, he would have probably bought himself and his whole family a ticket to every convention/meeting/fair of the recently revived S.P.E.W. Of course they were all kept in Ron and Hermione's living room, and there were cupcakes and tea afterwards, but still they were probably more tedious than their old lessons of History of Magic and Harry wasn't too keen to end up like Binns who died of dullness.

"Well, Rose was born," said Harry, "so I guess I should be skipping the whole flowers and bees story."

"Yes, yes," said Ron, quickly, "save it for James and Albus."

"So what is it?" asked Harry. "Because, I remember that when Hermione was back at Hogwarts for her last year and you went there to visit…" His words trailed away as he winked to his friend. Yes, Harry remembered. It was something that almost made Mrs. Weasley have a heart attack, and Hermione almost be expelled.

"Exactly," said Ron enthusiastically, "we used to not be able to keep our hands off each other and now…" He sighed. "I don't even remember—"

"—how to do it?"

Ron snorted. "Ah-ah. No," he replied sourly. "I don't remember what she likes, what I like, our favourite position…" He leaned his forehead on the glass rim. "We used to do it every day, Harry." His eyes got bigger. "Every day," he repeated as if he couldn't quite believe it himself.

Harry looked at him with a bit of amusement in his eyes. He felt guilty, though, that he kind of found the whole thing funny and decided that he was going to be supportive instead of being an insensitive wart. "Talk me through it, will you? When did this start?"

Ron looked at his friend with a pained expression. "I need something strong to talk about my sex life with…" He sighed. "… you."

Harry seemed to agree. He gestured to the waitress and asked for two Firewhiskey. When the alcoholic liquid was brought to them, they downed it in one gulp. It burned Harry's stomach and, from the expression on Ron's face, Ron's too.

"Better?" asked Harry.

"Definitely," replied Ron. "Okay, we haven't been having sex in probably three months," he blurted out. "That's a lot, isn't it?"

Harry nodded. The longest he and Ginny had been without sex was two weeks and that was after Lily was born. Ron did not need to know that. Especially since he had forbidden his best friend to tell him anything concerning the Auror's sex life with his sister. He nodded again in response to Ron. "So, why has it been that long?" he asked. He was not finding the conversation particularly comfortable either. Him and Ron were usually at ease talking about Quidditch and work and how long their wives took to do anything, rather than… this.

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea." He played with the water that had condensed and dripped from the ice-cream bowl onto the table. "We used to do it every single night and then… it all started after Rose was born. I was tired, she was tired, the baby was in the bedroom sleeping with us…" He sighed. "We just did it more and more rarely and then stopped doing it completely."

"Rose is almost two years old, Ron," Harry pointed out.

"Well, it didn't start right away," replied Ron curtly. "It just got worse with time." He shook his head. "I don't know, I don't think it was because of Rose, really. Poor thing." He smiled weakly. "She is not the cause of her parents not having sex."

"To be honest, I think every child would love to be the cause of their parents not having sex," chuckled Harry.

Ron smiled too. "Right." He tapped his fingers on the table. "But it's not her fault. She sleeps in her own room now, and she never comes to our bed in the middle of the night."

Harry blinked. "So…?"

"So, well, I don't bloody know, do I?" he asked heatedly. "Blimey! If I knew I would have done something!" He sighed. "I come home late and she has to wake up early, and in the weekends we are visiting my parents and then hers and then you and Ginny and one day we go to Diagon Alley and another we have something else to do…" He snorted. "It's almost awkward, Harry… when I get close to Hermione she is looking at me like, 'I hardly think so, Mister'. She is never in the mood and when she is, I am not…"

"You are not in the mood?" asked Harry in disbelief.

Ron shrugged. "Sometimes," he said nonchalantly. He snorted. "Like you are always in the mood yourself I guess." He eyed Harry suspiciously. "You are not, are you?"

"Well, I am," he replied shamelessly.

"Shut up," said Ron disgusted, "I don't want to know."

Harry sighed. "Listen, can I talk freely?"

Ron looked up at him. "Course you can."

"You are not going to cringe when I mention your sister and I?"

Ron paled. Of course he was going to. "No," he replied bravely.

"Okay," he sighed, "you need to spice up you sex life." He looked Ron straight in the eyes as his friend became of a greenish colour. "There are some things that Ginny and I do sometimes." Ron became even greener. Harry ignored him. "You know, some things that make things more… exciting."

Ron swallowed. "I'm listening," he murmured heroically.

A phantom of a smile appeared on Harry's lips. He kind of enjoyed to embarrass Ron like that. "Well, a bit of role-play for example," he continued. "That always makes things more interesting."

Ron looked perplexed. "We did that once or twice," he let him know. "Hermione was a Healer and I had Vanishing Sickness and… she visited me wearing a very sexy white uniform…"

"And then you and her… you know… did it work?"

Ron flushed. "Not exactly, no…"

"What do you mean no? You didn't have sex?"

"Well, for believability sake, she said that Vanishing Sickness was contagious so she had ended up sick as well, and we slept in two separate rooms." Ron seemed even more flustered than when he had to talk about sex.

Harry frowned. "I thought you were role-playing to have fun in the bedroom."

"We were," replied Ron hurriedly, "but you know Hermione, don't you? She likes when everything is perfect…"

Harry blinked. He knew Hermione, but he still didn't understand her. "Listen, anyway, that is not even what I meant with role-play."He looked at Ron who seemed confused. "I mean, yes, that is what you should do, but there are other ways, you can bring it to a higher level now."

"What level?"

"Two words, Ron, Polyjuice Potion," he said, grinning.

Ron looked confused, then interested and finally excited. "Polyjuice Potion? Just for the sake of having sex?"

Harry nodded. "It's nothing Ginny and I have invented, they sell phials of brewed Polyjuice Potions with hairs from your favourite famous wizard or witch." He looked at Ron. "Naturally, you can also customize your own."

Ron smiled a little. "Well, I suppose it would be nice to have Hermione look like Madam Rosmerta for a night…"

Harry coughed. "Really? Nobody younger?" he asked even though he was well aware of his friend's long time crush on the proprietor of the Three Broomsticks.

Ron shrugged, then he darkened. "And maybe Hermione would like to spend the night with Viktor Krum."

Harry sighed. "I'm sure she wouldn't enjoy that," he said unconvincingly. "But you should suggest it to her. She might like the idea of a bit of fantasy becoming reality."

Ron nodded thoughtfully, then something stroke him and he looked hard at Harry. "Who have you Polyjuiced yourself into?" he asked. "And Ginny?"

This time it was Harry's time to blush. "Well, if I tell you, I would have to kill you," he said cryptically. "Why don't I tell you about suggestion number two instead?"

Ron stared at him, but decided that maybe it was better to not investigate further. For his own sake at least. "Okay," he said.

Harry cleared his throat. "Well, the second thing that I'd like to suggest is that a bit of aid while you are in bed is not necessarily a bad thing…"

Ron's blue eyes widened. "Aid from who?" he asked in disbelief.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Not from who, from what," he said. Then he lowered his voice, "you know, ropes, blindfolds, gags… this kind of things…"

Ron moved his chair a bit closer to Harry's. "This kind of things?" he repeated. "How can you be so well informed about this kind of things?" He eyed Harry suspiciously and decided that he didn't want to know. "Don't answer, please."

"Listen," said Harry briskly, "that's not important." But I guess you can imagine how I know about them, he thought. "You know that there's an adult corner at George's shop, right?"

Ron nodded. "Of course I know, I used to work there, Harry."

"And you never bought anything?" he asked in disbelief. "Not even out of curiosity?"

"No," retorted Ron, "why? Did you?"

"Not from George, no," he replied, "I don't think he would appreciate me buying those things for his little sister."

"Hey, she is my little sister too!" protested Ron weakly.

"Right," sighed Harry, "but I do swear that they work. And I'm sure you can buy them from your brother, he would not mind."

Ron thought about it and remembered some of the items in that corner. The one protected by an Age Line. Some of those things looked quite… exciting. Some others he didn't even know where to put them. Others looked quite painful. "So you are saying to just go and get some of those things, right?"

"Just one is enough," he said, chuckling. "And some of them you don't want to mix with."

"Okay, looks someone knows what he is talking about," said Ron, eyeing his friend warily. "Is that all?"

Harry shook his head. "One last thing," he told him, "a bit of adrenaline would not be a bad idea as well."

Ron looked confused. "Excuse me, isn't sex charged-up enough?"

"Yes, but you can always get more from your experience." Harry smiled. "A bit of thrill to top the excitement of sex."

Ron frowned. "And how would you do it?"

"Public sex," whispered Harry, flushing a bit himself.

"Excuse me?" asked Ron scandalized.

"Don't think about Ginny and me," replied Harry quickly. "Think about you and Hermione."

"Yeah, I don't usually think about you and Ginny." Ron grimaced. "I'm thinking about Hermione and me," he added, "and I don't think she'll like it."

Harry snorted. "It doesn't need to be you and her in the middle of Diagon Alley at noon on a weekend," he reassured Ron. "Just you know, a public place where nobody can see you." He seemed to think about it and added, "But where people can still walk on you as you are at it." He smiled. "But they won't."

Ron looked puzzled. "So, will they walk on us, or won't they?" he asked.

"Well, they could, but naturally they won't," he replied, "if you know where to stand." He looked at Ron. "Or lie. Like a public restroom, or your office or Hermione's. I mean, people are always sending you those annoying flying letters, nobody is ever coming to your office."

"That's not true," protested Ron.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "It is, nobody ever comes to mine as well, and I'm Head Auror."

"Right, okay, any other suggestion?"

Harry shook his head thoughtfully. "None that comes to mind, no." He patted Ron's shoulder. "Listen, go home, talk to Hermione, and I'm sure that she will be willing to try something. Especially with you."

Ron glared at Harry. "Who else would she be willing to do these things with?"

Harry laughed in reply. "Sorry, I meant, she will be willing to try something because it's you."

Ron looked at Harry and nodded warily. He gestured to the waitress for the bill. "Okay, yes," he mumbled, "it should be fun, right?"

"If you do it right," laughed Harry.

Ron glared at his best friend. "We are not dense, you know." Then he sighed as he paid the astronomical bill. "I'm sure Hermione hasn't even noticed that it has been so long since we did it." And as he said so the two friends left the Leaky Cauldron.

ooo

"Four months?" asked Ginny in disbelief, putting a cup of tea in front of Hermione. "Are you sick?" She turned towards the kitchen counter and grabbed her own cup.

Hermione shook her head sadly, placing her hands on the warm mug. "No and neither is he," she replied, "we just haven't had intercourse in four months. Merlin, that's a long time now that I'm saying it out loud."

"It is, I don't know how you manage to resist," confessed Ginny. "But you are sleeping with my brother so I don't blame you."

Hermione pretended to be annoyed. "Very funny," she sighed. "We need to do something about it or we will soon sleep in different rooms and then different houses and then…"

"Well, have you talked to Ron?" asked Ginny, noticing what a bad idea that was as soon as she said it out loud.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't even think he noticed it has been that long," she confessed. "I wish I knew what to do to revive our passion."

Ginny leaned her elbows on the table of her kitchen and smiled knowingly. "Well, you came to the right place, then," she said.

Hermione sipped some tea. "Did I?" she asked hopeful.

"Yes, you know," started Ginny, sounding very professional, "there are some things that Harry and I do from time to time, just to keep the interest alive. After three children we do what we can."

"Which is?"

"In three words, Hermione, bondage, public sex and role-play."

Hermione's cheeks flushed slightly. "Those are six words," she mumbled.

Ginny rolled her eyes and looked uncannily like her brother. "Sor-ry," she said in a sing-song voice. "Can't you focus on the content rather than the form?"

Hermione looked into her mug. "I am focusing on both and… I don't know," she said unsure, "I was thinking more about a romantic dinner or a weekend somewhere." She sighed. "But who has the time for that anymore?"

"I hear you," replied Ginny, groaning. "Children, work, housework…" She stared at Hermione who seemed to be very interested in the amber liquid in her cup. "So?" she asked tentatively.

Hermione shrugged, raising her head and looking at Ginny with a faint smile. "Right," she said, "I don't see why we shouldn't try something different."

Ginny smiled brightly. "Hey, do you need any information about these things? You know how they work?"

Hermione looked at her. "I am not completely useless, Ginny, I know the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes has a whole shelf dedicated to bondage and at the office we had a problem with the Polyjuice Potions that are sold in the shops."

"You don't look like you need a lesson from me, then," said Ginny, still smiling.

Hermione smiled back. "No, you are right, but thank you for suggesting… these things," she conceded. She stood up and prepared to Apparate. "Now, all I have to do is persuade Ron to try them," she said before bidding goodbye and leaving her sister-in-law's house.

ooo

Ron walked into the kitchen in his pyjamas. Hermione was sitting at the table, reading a parchment, her feet on a chair and her eyes tired. She looked up as he came to a stop in front of her, and smiled warmly to him. "Thank you for putting Rose to bed," she said, "you didn't have to."

Ron smiled back. "I wanted to," he said, opening the fridge and taking a piece of cake on a small plate. He sat in front of Hermione who looked at him reproachfully.

"Haven't you had enough earlier?" she asked in the same way his mother would do.

He looked at her with his lips covered in chocolate. "There's no such thing as enough cake," he said with his mouth full.

Hermione shook her head and looked back down at the parchment. Some boring report of some boring meeting she hadn't attended.

Ron swallowed the piece of cake that he had in his mouth and parted his lips to talk. Before he could produce a sound, though, Hermione looked up and said, "I went to Ginny's today."

Ron felt a bit flustered, he suspected he had missed the right moment to talk to Hermione about Harry's suggestions, but he smiled anyway. "That's nice," he said, "I met Harry at the Leaky Cauldron."

Hermione looked at him curiously. "Really? What for?" She smiled. "I mean, don't the two of you already work together? Can't you get enough of him?"

Ron tried to smile. "Well, you know us," he murmured, "we were talking about Quidditch and work."

"Good," she said flatly, "I guess."

"What about you two?" blurted out Ron, preparing to receive a reply about diapers and recipes.

Hermione lowered her eyes. "We were talking about us."

"Us?" asked Ron abruptly. "Us like in us?" He gestured between the two of them. "Or us like in you and Ginny?"

Hermione looked at him. "Us like in us," she said, gesturing just like her husband had done. "Why? What's wrong?"

He didn't reply. "Well, why would you talk about us to my sister?" he asked, forgetting accidentally on purpose that he had done the same exact thing with Harry.

Hermione looked at him seriously. "Because, if you haven't noticed, Ron," she said, her voice firm, "we haven't had sex in four months."

"Four? I thought it was three," he said, quickly trying to mentally recall the last time they had sex.

"Beg your pardon?" exclaimed Hermione. "So you noticed!"

Ron looked at her as if she were out of her mind. "Well, of course I noticed!" he spluttered. "I was talking to Harry about it just today!"

Hermione blinked. "You were?" she flushed in anger, then embarrassment and finally shame. Anger at her husband talking about their sex life with a third person, embarrassment because Harry now knew their problems – not that she didn't know that Ginny was going to tell him anyway – and shame because she was angry at Ron for doing what she had just done. She put down the parchment, her mouth a thin line. "And?" she asked, trying to sound calm.

"And what?" asked Ron playing with the cake.

"Well, did he suggest anything in particular?" she questioned. "Maybe a way to rekindle the passion?" She took a deep breath. "Because your sister came up with all sorts of ideas to…"

"I don't want to know," he said, placing a hand in front of her face. "Yes, Harry did."

"Let me guess," said Hermione, moving the hand away. "Bondage, public sex and role-play?"

Ron swallowed some more cake. "Well then, it seems like my secret meeting with Harry was a good exercise in futility."

Hermione smiled. "Au contraire," she said, "it was very useful. Now I know that you want to do something about this situation."

Ron smiled back. "Of course I do," he whispered, "I just want to have our fun nights back." He leaned towards her and kissed her. Hermione kissed him back, tasting the cake in his mouth. After a moment she smiled against his lips.

"Great," she said, detaching herself from her husband, "I'm off to bed, I have an early meeting tomorrow." She stood up and rolled the parchment.

"Hey," exclaimed Ron, taken aback, "what about… you know what?"

She pushed the chair under the table. "Right," she replied in a business-like way, "here are the ingredients that I'm missing for the Polyjuice Potion." She handed him a piece of paper with three things written in her tidy writing. Fluxweed, Leeches and Biocorn horn. "I don't trust those brewed ones that they sell in the shops. And here," she added, showing him a sealed envelope, "are the names of the people I would be interested to see you transform into."

"Well, can I see?" he asked, trying to get the envelope from her hand before she snatched it away.

"No," she replied, smiling, "you have to write a list too and we will read them together."

Ron looked uncomfortable. He lied, "I don't think I want to see you transformed into any—"

"Oh come on," she interrupted him, "try to be a little bit creative, Ronald!"