Author's Notes: Honestly! FFNet did it again! This chapter was all crumbled in a big, untidy paragraph! Luckily I decided to try to save it in .odt and re-upload it, and it worked. I have no idea what was wrong with the original chapter in .docx, the others worked just fine, and it was just this one because I uploaded another document in here and it was perfect. The weird thing is that now the word count is different, there are about 100 words more than in Word and I have no idea where those words are! Why, oh why!? Anyway, last chapter, rating is M, you've been warned. Hope you'll have fun here, I like the penultimate scene most of all! But please, do review! And if you liked this - or any of my stories - go vote for them in the poll in my Profile page! Happy reading! Thanks for the comments and all the love you sent my way!

V.

"Really, Ginny," said Harry, pouting. "I thought you would have found the whole story a bit more amusing."

Ginny stirred the tomato sauce she was cooking and tapped the wooden spoon on the edge of the pan. "I have already heard that story, Harry," she said coldly, "Hermione told me a few hours after it happened and now Ron is sleeping on the couch, thanks to you."

Harry was outraged. "Thanks to me?"

"Thanks to you and Neville," she rectified.

"Thanks to us?" he asked. "How is this our fault?"

"You had to walk in there and let them have a heart attack, didn't you?" she asked harshly. She liked to pull a good trick on her brother, but this was just a bit too malicious for her liking.

"Honestly," said Harry, taking a crisp from a bag he had opened while waiting for dinner, and munching on it. "We thought we were just being good friends and surprising Hermione. She is always complaining how nobody ever goes to see her."

"Not that," said Ginny, pouring some pasta in a pot of boiling water. "That was an accident. I'm talking about the prank you pulled on them."

"Well, at least we didn't Transfigure Ron into a toad," chuckled Harry.

Ginny glared at her husband, but when she turned her back to him she smiled. That was something she would have loved to see.

"Honestly, those two," said Harry, still munching, "they are just a mess when it's up to such basic things." He stood up from the stool where he was sitting, and started to lay the table. Four places, plus Lily's high chair.

"I feel guilty," said Ginny suddenly as she stirred the pasta.

"Guilty?" asked Harry.

Ginny turned to look at him and nodded. "Guilty about what they had to go through in the past months."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "It's not our fault if they mess up everything."

"Well, it kind of is, they followed our suggestions."

"Our suggestions are great," pointed out Harry, "they worked fine with us."

Ginny smiled softly. They did, Albus and Lily were living proof of that. "Yes, but maybe that's not who they are…"

Harry chuckled. "That's definitely not who they are…"

"We should do something," said Ginny thoughtfully.

"Something… like?" asked Harry unsure about what she was getting at.

Ginny shrugged her shoulders as she poured the pasta and the water into a colander. "We should… I don't know, offer to look after Rose for a night… prepare an intimate dinner… leave them alone to work out their problems…"

Harry looked at Ginny, she was mixing the sauce with the pasta, her face screwed in concentration, as if she was thinking about other ways to reconcile her brother and his wife.

"James!" called Harry as he picked Lily up from the floor where she was playing with tiny, flying Quidditch players – amongst which, her mother – and placed her in the high chair. "Albus!" The two boys ran into the kitchen, racing each other.

"Pasta!" said James, climbing up a chair.

"Pasta!" echoed Albus, running towards the chair next to where his mother used to sit.

"Pasta!" agreed Harry cheerfully as he helped both his sons at the same time.

"So? What do you think?" asked Ginny, sitting down next to Lily and trying to prevent her from dunking her fist into the baby food and smash it all over her face.

"I think it's a great idea," said Harry sitting between his sons. "Plus, I don't think we have enough children in this house…"

Ginny smiled and looked at him from across the table. "Are you being sarcastic?"

"Maybe…" he said, smiling back to her.

"Great," she said, "that's settled then." And she poured herself some water as Lily threw some baby food in her face and her sons and husband started to chuckle.

ooo

Ron smiled his most affable smile and looked straight into his sister's eyes. "Let me think about it," he said, pretending to think, "no, thank you. I don't need help and even if I did you and your husband would be the last people on Earth I would ask."

Ginny rolled her eyes. She had invited Ron over to talk him through her plan, something she liked to call 'The Ultimate Plan on How to Get Ron and Hermione Back in Bed Together', something that made her brother cringe. So far, though, her mission was proving far more difficult than what she had expected, but somehow she had to agree with Ron if he didn't want to listen to any of her advice any time soon.

"Harry and I aren't suggesting anything in particular," she said, truthfully, "we'll only have Rose over for a sleepover and prepare you and Hermione dinner. You take it from there."

Ron looked suspiciously at his sister. "That's all?" he asked.

Ginny nodded. "You tell us the day and we will surprise your wife with a romantic dinner… then whatever happens, happens."

Ron didn't like to talk about the S-E-X with his sister. He coughed uncomfortably and shifted on the armchair where he was sitting. "Probably nothing," he said, flushing, "I am sleeping on the couch anyway."

"Still?" asked Ginny concerned. "It has been three days."

Ron nodded, rubbing his back. "I had to go to St. Mungo's this morning," he said. "My back is killing me. Between falling off the desk, Hermione falling on me and the couch, I feel like I am a hundred years old."

"What did they say?" asked Ginny.

Ron snorted. "That I should sleep on a more even surface," replied Ron, "like maybe a bed."

"See?" exclaimed Ginny. "It's the doctor who says that we need to help you two doing the nasty again."

"He did not say such thing," pointed out Ron.

Ginny smiled sheepishly. "We just want to help."

Her brother was surprised. "Didn't you help enough?" he asked.

"Oh, come on," said Ginny, "besides what could go wrong this time? There's nothing peculiar about an intimate dinner and a night in…"

ooo

Hermione Apparated in her entrance way with a bag in a hand and some rolled parchment in the other. She hung her coat and took off her shoes, slipping into a pair of big, colourful, unsexy slippers. Then she stopped, smelling the air like a dog. There was food ready in the house – and she didn't mean crisps and gherkins out of the vase. It was actually the smell of something hot and, well, hopefully scrumptious. It was meaty and smelled delicious.

The first thought in Hermione's head was that someone had introduced himself in her house to… cook? That was ridiculous, she knew it well, but still it was more plausible than Ron cooking for them. Right, she thought, probably it was take out and he had just heated it.

She walked into the kitchen and looked behind the island. Ron was wearing one of her aprons, which barely reached his tights and made him look like even taller and bigger than usual. For the first time in a week, Hermione couldn't help smiling.

"Well, you definitely have something to ask forgiveness for, don't you?" she asked and those were literally the first words she had spoken to him since the office accident.

Ron turned to look at her, first surprised, then relieved. A smile crept over his lips. "Rose is at Ginny and Harry's," he said, nodding towards the table. It was laid for two with their finest china and the most expensive table cloth they had in the house. Candles were floating around the table and in the middle, next to a jar of pink lemonade, there was a vase of fresh roses and lilies.

"We never use these," said Hermione, half-way through feeling concerned for the safety of her dishes and excited to find this surprise.

Ron walked up to her. Under the apron, he was wearing a jet black dinner suit that fit him perfectly. His ruffled hair must have taken him ages to comb. He placed his hands on Hermione's waist and went for a kiss which, to his surprise, was actually responded to.

"Why don't you go and change?" he whispered in her ear. "There's a dress on your bed."

Hermione fluttered her eyelids and sighed. "Our bed," she corrected him softly.

Ron smiled. "Our bed," he confirmed.

She walked as if she were in a dream towards their bedroom. On the bed, there was a midnight blue dress, strapless and knee long. It was new, Hermione didn't own such a beautiful thing. The fact that Ron had bought her a dress filled her with surprise and apprehension. He was not very good with sizes.

She shook her head. She didn't want to have negative thoughts, especially now that he had to go such lengths to get back into her good graces.

She wanted to be collaborative: she took a quick shower, charmed her hair to look soft and smooth, slipped into the dress and discarded the slippers in favour of the high heels. She put on some make up and looked at her reflection, she took a deep breath – noticed how well the dress fit her – and went back into the kitchen.

Ron smiled broadly when his wife walked in. He took off the apron and stepped towards her, he grabbed her hand and kissed it gently. "This way," he said, pulling her towards the chair. He moved it back and pushed it towards Hermione's knees, letting her sit gracefully on it.

Hermione took the napkin that was folded like a swan on her plate and put it on her lap. "Wow," she breathed. "Ron, did you do all this by yourself?" she asked.

"You seem surprised," he said. "Of course I didn't. I've been helped, but my little helpers shall remain unnamed." He sat opposite Hermione. "I hope you like lobster," he said as he clapped his hands and half a lobster transported from the pan to her plate and the other half on his own. Its white meat was coated in a lemony butter sauce and it looked delicious. "Apparently it pairs wonderfully with this alcoholic pink lemonade," he added, pouring her and then himself some. "A secret recipe from Ginny."

Hermione took the glass in her hand and raised it towards Ron. "To us, then," she said, as their glasses clinked.

"To us," he replied, smiling.

They downed the liquid and put the glasses back on the table. Ron letting out a small burp of appreciation that Hermione would have normally scolded if she weren't too busy pondering the drink.

"What's in there?" she asked. "Didn't have much of a lemony taste for me," she added perplexed, "it was more like grass and… paper… no, parchment and something else… not lemon though."

"Really?" asked Ron, confused. "To me it was more like chocolate and wood."

They came to the realization together. They saw each other's expressions change with surprise at first, then fear, then anger. Then everything was gone except for a strong, overpowering lust that filled their eyes, their mind and every fibre of their beings.

Ron stood up. He put his arms on the table and pushed plates, lobsters, glasses and everything that there was on there off of it. Hermione didn't even seem to notice that her beautiful and expensive set of dishes went shattering on the floor. She stood up as well and put her knees on the table, meeting her husband in the middle.

Their lips crushed, they opened their mouths straight away, sucking and beating each other's tongues. Ron placed his hands on both sides of her face, pulling her, if possible, even more towards him.

"I love you," he said passionately, amongst kisses.

"I love you more," replied Hermione with equal passion. She ran her hands on his chest and grabbed his shirt. She pulled it apart with her hands and made the buttons fly all around them, exposing his chest and almost making him choke on his tie. He coughed slightly and frantically tried to loosen the knot around his neck, once he had managed to discard it on the floor Hermione pushed the suit jacket and shirt off her husband's shoulders to reach the tie.

She purred as he made his muscles flicker under his skin. She bent down and started kissing, biting and sucking on his chest. She reached his nipple and bit down hard.

"Ouch!" exclaimed Ron, raising Hermione's chin to look at his torso. There was a dark shade of red on her lips, different from the colour of her lipstick, and a big drop of blood was forming where Hermione's teeth have broken his sensitive skin.

Hermione's eyes shone, she smiled wildly and growled like a cat and that was enough to entice Ron's response. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her off the table, catching her before she could fall on the floor. He spun her around and pushed her stomach down against the table.

He didn't even took the time to divest from the trousers, he just unzipped his fly to free his erection. He raised Hermione's skirt and was delighted to see that she was not wearing any underwear. He penetrated her with force, his movements quick and rough.

She arched her back and moaned loudly as Ron grabbed her waist and pulled her towards him as he pushed deeper into her. Their breathing became ragged and, together with the slapping of their bodies, it was the only sound in the house.

"Mngggh," let out Ron as he finally reached his orgasm inside Hermione. She grabbed the edge of the table and let out a cry, following him. He hugged her stomach and stood still for a moment, his member still resting inside of her. She raised her head and turned to kiss him. He sucked on her tongue until she wriggled her bottom against his stomach in a sensual way.

Ron broke the kiss and tried to take a step back. He encountered a resistance in the form of his trousers, still wrapped around his knees and, with a loud thud, ended up flat on his bottom on the floor. Hermione didn't even turn to ask him if he were all right, she sat up on his lap and, since she was still wrapped around him, started riding him, her back still towards him.

"Faster," she cried out, slapping his thigh.

Ron grabbed her waist and pushed her back and forth as he pushed up towards her centre. He grabbed her dress that was now covering her and half of his body and pushed Hermione towards him. Her back was now against his chest and he stretched his arms and grabbed her thighs pulling them towards her chest until he felt the muscles in her legs twitch. She brought her hand to his head and pulled at his locks so hard that some hair came away between her fingers.

He increased his pace and tightened the pressure of his grip on her thighs, leaving red imprints that would have soon become blue. Hermione felt her second orgasm starting to burn inside of her, but before she could reach it Ron had pushed her unceremoniously off of him. She rolled on the floor, ending up on her stomach. Ron grabbed her sleek hair and dragged her to the couch. He propped her up, her stomach now against the cushions, her bottom up in the air. He grasped her dress and tried to make it slide up her body, when it didn't move, clutched between Hermione's body and the couch, Ron tried to push it down. Again, it didn't move.

"Urgh!" cried Ron and, beginning with the hem, he started to tear it from his wife.

She arched her body as Ron tore the dress open on her back, and looked over her shoulder to see him push his trousers off his legs. Now were both completely naked. Ron's rough hands were on her back, pushing her against the couch, her face sunk in a pillow. He spread her butt cheeks and with no warning he started to enter her rear hole.

She cried out, her toes curling on the floor and her fingers tightening their grip on the cushion. She managed to turn her head and grab Ron's forearm, clutching her nails into his skin and drawing blood. He grabbed her wrist and put it on the small of her back, then up and up and up, bending her arm until they heard a loud click coming from her shoulder.

She cried out, but he seemed unfazed by her pain. He continued to pound into her, until he was ready once again to come into her. When he came down from his second orgasm, he fell on his wife, crushing her body between him and the couch and her arm between their two sweaty bodies.

Hermione turned her head to kiss him and when he introduced his tongue in her mouth she bit down hard, filling both mouths with blood. Ron grabbed her hair and she unclenched her teeth.

"So good," he breathed out against her skin as he licked the sweat off her face, leaving blood trails on her cheeks. "Taste so good."

Hermione bucked her bottom towards her husband who stopped to savour the feeling of her movements around him. He drew back and pulled out of her hole, looking at his wife's perfect curves as he did so. She turned and sat on the couch, her left shoulder bending in an awkward way.

"You had enough?" she asked, pouting her lips and sucking on her index finger.

Ron's eyes clouded, if possible, with even more lust; he licked his lips and threw himself over Hermione, kissing her with wanton. He sneaked a hand on her breast and kneaded it roughly, pinching it and pulling at her nipple.

"Never enough," he replied amongst kisses.

Hermione placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back. "Thirsty," she breathed, "I'm thirsty."

Ron nodded. He jumped up and walked towards the kitchen. There seemed to be no water or any other liquid whatsoever on the table or on the floor. The jar with the pink lemonade lay in pieces near the table and Ron stepped carelessly on the pieces of glass, leaving trails of blood behind.

He opened the fridge and peered inside, the only liquid there was a small jar of an intense dark colour. "Coke," exclaimed Ron, grabbing the bottle and showing it to Hermione. He didn't even notice the small label that read 'Antidote' on it.

"Ah!" agreed Hermione, walking up to him.

He took a good gulp and gave the bottle to Hermione, who drank from it. She put it on the kitchen island and looked at Ron.

"I feel weird," said Ron slowly. "I'm tired." He yawned.

Hermione yawned back. "Yes, tired, maybe we should take a nap…" She slid on the floor and her husband did the same next to her, unconcerned about the shattered glasses that tore their skin apart. "Nap… Right here…"

And they both fell asleep.

ooo

Ginny stepped through the window of Purge and Dowse, Ltd. and found herself in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injures. She walked quickly towards the Reception Area and banged her fist on the glass to attract the attention of the Helping Witch.

The witch looked up from the latest issue of Spella Weekly she was flipping through and eyed Ginny. "You have to take a number," she said lazily.

Ginny looked around herself. "There is nobody here," she pointed out irritated.

"Number," she repeated mechanically.

Ginny took a deep breath and turned on her heels. She took a number from a toad's mouth hung on the other side of the Reception Area and came back. The witch looked excitedly at her. "Yes, can I help you?" she asked.

Ginny glared at her. "I'm looking for my brother and my sister-in-law," she explained. "They came here this morning."

"Names?" asked the witch.

"Ron and Hermione Weasley."

"Ah, yes," said the witch taking out a thick fascicle from a drawer. "What was your relation to them again?"

"I'm Ron Weasley's sister," she said, irritated by her slowness.

The witch nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Ginevra Potter, is it?"

"Yes," she replied, surprised that she was preceded by her own fame.

"Mr. Weasley said that they don't wish to see you nor your husband while they are recovering," she informed the woman. "They were very clear on this point."

Ginny looked at the witch confused. "What?"

The witch nodded. "You can be informed about their situation, though," she said, "they actually want you to know what happened to them. Somehow they consider you and Mr. Potter responsible for it." The witch looked at her as if she were a dangerous criminal.

Ginny swallowed, somehow she didn't find it hard to believe. The little Amortentia surprise was just a favour she thought she was doing them, evidently Slughorn had always been right: you shouldn't mess up with love potions. "Well?" she asked.

"A dislocated shoulder, a broken coccyx, deep cuts on most parts of their bodies, bruises, two pulled muscles and a pulled groin," she read out loud. "Ah, and Mrs. Weasley is pregnant."

ooo

Nine months later Ginny was once again in St. Mungo's. This time with Harry and the rest of her family all crowding in a small room, filled with blue balloons that said, 'It's a boy!', cards, plants and flowers. Ron was sitting in a chair next to Hermione's bed. He was holding a little bundle of red-haired joy, who was sleeping and probably subconsciously soaking in all the attention. Hermione, from the bed, was giving Ron directions on how to hold their newborn properly.

"It's our second one, Hermione," Ron reminded her. "I know how to handle him."

"You let Rose fall," she reminded him in turn.

"I fell?" asked Rose, climbing on the bed to have a better look at her brother.

"Yes, you did, and you turned out all right," said Ron nonchalantly.

Hermione shook her head.

"So, Hugo, is it?" asked Charlie, bending over to have a closer look to his umpteenth nephew. "Why Hugo again?"

Hermione smiled. "Because he is a Hugo, isn't he?"

Charlie nodded vaguely, even though he didn't really know what a Hugo looked like, up until now that was it.

"He is so adorable," said Molly, soaking her husband's shoulder with tears.

Arthur looked at Hermione and smiled apologetically. "And you think she would have got used to having grandchildren by now."

Hermione smiled back as a Healer came into the room. "The visiting hour is over," she said sternly. "And you are well over the allowed number of visitors. Everybody out except the mother and the baby."

"And the father?" asked Ron hopefully.

"And the father," agreed the Healer with a sigh. She glared to basically everybody and left.

There was a chorus of 'goodbyes' and 'let us know when they come out of the hospital' before most of the Weasley clan left the room. Ron stood up and handed Hugo carefully to his wife.

"So, all well that ends well, isn't it?" asked Ginny from the foot of Hermione's bed.

"What do you mean?" asked Ron, straightening up and looking at his sister.

Ginny smiled. "We gave you a love potion and nine months and a couple of bruises later here you go, you have another child."

Harry smiled too. "So what we did wasn't so bad," he said.

"You gave us a potion without us knowing, that alone is bad enough," said Hermione calmly, lulling Hugo delicately. "But we said we forgave you, why all the fuss?" She smiled sweetly.

"Because you promised us revenge for this. But if you forgave us then there's no need for that, is there?" asked Harry nervously, ruffling his hair.

Hermione smiled brightly and Ron with her as he sat on the bed next to her and watched his sleeping son. "Oh Harry," he laughed affably. "Of course there is." He looked at Harry and Ginny with a weird twinkle in his eyes. "And I can't wait to settle the score."

"Well said, Ron," agreed Hermione, kissing him with the passion that they had definitely revived.

FIN