Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. But if I did, I'd also own a nice apartment in New York.

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"I didn't know that you could cook!" Pansy exclaimed loudly once Ron placed a plate stir fry in front of her.

"Yes, because you know so much about me already," Ron mumbled under his breath. However, Pansy could hear him clear as day. Instead of replying, Pansy stabbed a piece of chicken with her fork and popped it into her mouth.

When Ron told her that he wanted to take her home, she hadn't expected for him to cook for her. She expected to be thrown onto the bed, undressed, and quickly fucked. But, Pansy supposed that this was a good idea too. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until Ron started to cook and she could hear the sounds of sizzling meat and the smells of sesame oil and vegetables. But, to be fair, Pansy would always be able to eat a plate of stir-fry whether she hadn't eaten for days or had only eaten a few minutes prior.

Pansy moaned in pleasure and Ron laughed. "You like it?" he asked, even though Pansy was sure that he already knew the answer. Pansy didn't waste time answering, she only popped broccoli in her mouth. Ron continued to laugh as he sat down across from her at his small kitchen table.

They sat in silence for a few moments, both enjoying their late meal. Pansy was a bit jealous. She was never a very good cook. She never put much effort into learning household charms and to do chores the muggle way were draining. She constantly ate take-out while living in New York; it was much easier to do than to attempt and fail at cooking.

"How did you learn to cook?" she asked Ron, genuinely curious. Ron shrugged, lifting his gaze from his nearly empty plate. Pansy had to fight to keep the disgusted look off of her face. Did the man even chew? It was like he had inhaled his meal! She was more than a little repulsed.

"I guess I taught myself," Ron replied, thankfully after his mouth was no longer full. "I like to eat and getting take-away every night can be expensive. So, I got some cookbooks… well, Hermione gave me some cookbooks… and now I know how to make stuff."

Pansy had cookbooks too. But she couldn't remember if she had actually ever touched them. She was sure that they were collecting dust on her kitchen counter.

"I'm surprised that you really like it. I hardly ever cook for anyone else besides myself," Ron commented before placing his empty plate in the kitchen sink.

"It was delicious. Much better than I would've been able to do. Not that that's saying much. I burn water," Pansy said honestly. Ron laughed, leaning against the kitchen counter and staring at Pansy with his arms crossing his chest.

"Are you admitting that you're bad at something? I wouldn't take you for the type to be aware of your own faults," Ron said, an easy smile on his face that made Pansy feel uncomfortable in the best way.

"Yes, because you know so much about me already," Pansy parroted back at Ron. Ron's smile only grew wider and Pansy feigned insult. "I'll have you know that I'm hyper aware of my faults. I just don't go around sharing them with other people."

Ron looked thoughtful for a moment and smiled at Pansy. "I have terrible table manners."

Pansy nodded her head in agreement. She didn't need him to tell her that. She had just witnessed it. His elbows were on the table, he ate his food as if it were going to disappear before his very eyes, and he used the back of his hand as a napkin.

"Yes. I'm aware," Pansy agreed.

"Ok. Now you tell me something," Ron prompted.

Pansy raised an eyebrow at him. What did he expect for her to tell him? She didn't have anything to share with him. She thought that she would be invited over for rough sex. Although the stir-fry was a nice surprise, she wasn't fond of the sharing portion of the evening.

"I just said that I don't go around sharing my faults with other people," Pansy sneered.

"But I told you one of mine," Ron argued.

"Yes, but you really didn't need to. I didn't ask you to and I sat here and watched you eat. For the love of Merlin, a blind man would've been repulsed."

Ron snapped his fingers as if a thought had just struck him. He pointed his finger at Pansy and said "I got one. You're mean."

Pansy's jaw dropped in shock. She was being on her very best behavior. Why was she being called mean? She hadn't even pointed out how small Ron's flat was or the tacky rug that laid in the middle of the kitchen. She had been nice enough to not speak about the fact that two of his kitchen table chairs didn't match the other two!

"Wha- I'm not mean!" Pansy flustered, genuinely confused about the label.

"I feed you and you won't even tell me another fault of yours. That's kinda mean," Ron teased her.

Pansy scoffed in annoyance and disbelief. "Okay, Weasley… I didn't even ask you to feed me! You decided to cook for me! I came over here for sex! You're the one who decided to play chef for 30 minutes and shit."

Ron looked thoughtful for a few moments before opening his mouth to speak again. "You're just over here for sex?"

Pansy nodded her head quickly and stood up. She grabbed her purse from the back of the chair that she was sitting on, and placed the strap over her shoulder. If she wasn't going to get laid, then what the hell was she still doing there? The food was good, but she could've just as easily gone to get a burger or something.

"So, the food and the talking… that doesn't interest you? Just the-"

"-sex. Yes," Pansy confirmed.

Ron nodded his head thoughtfully before taking one large step toward her. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. It wasn't a chaste kiss. It was the kind of kiss that was probably illegal in some countries. The kind of kiss that mothers would shield their children's eyes from. The kind of kiss that Pansy would have never thought to share with a Weasley.

Ron groped and grabbed and Pansy let him. She hadn't even realized that he had backed her up until the kitchen counter was digging into her back. She let her purse fall from her shoulder and she was mildly aware of it hitting the floor. Thousands of dollars on Ron Weasley's ugly kitchen rug.

Ron lifted her up and set her down on the kitchen counter, never once breaking the kiss. Pansy couldn't deny that Ron was an amazing kisser and she had had her share of experts. If he kissed like this, she was all too eager to see how good he was at other things…

That cliffhanger though… I'm not sorry! I know I haven't updated in a while, but things have been hectic. I'm graduating on the 17th so I need to wrap up a few more assignments before I'm a productive member of society.

I hope you all enjoyed it! I'm planning to continue the story. Originally, I thought that I might make it a one-shot… but the demand was too high to expand it. And… my mind wouldn't let me rest until I wrote some more. This. Is. Not. The. End.

PLEASE REVIEW!