Title: DIY and Wands

Prompt: one of them breaks their wand

Description: Ron vs DIY ends very badly

Rating: teen

Warning: contains innuendo and adult humour

Hermione was supposed to be working. Supposed to be. In reality, she sat at the kitchen table trying to read the first part in a long roll of parchment. She had read the first paragraph numerous times but still the words remained just a jumble of letters on a page. She sighed, grasping her wand and pointing it towards the kettle on top of the Aga. As instructed the kettle travelled over to the sink where the tap turned itself on and began to fill the kettle. A flick of the wrist and the kettle retreated back to the hob and began to slowly bubble.

She had already had coffee today, and was meant to be cutting down but the balance of work, an eight-month-old baby and a three-year-old sometimes meant an extra dose was needed to get through the day. She just couldn't concentrate. Hugo was napping in his pram in the next door living room, Rose was in her bedroom- she was determined to make her dolls dance around like Daddy had – and Ron was attempting, much to her dread, muggle DIY – the type her Dad had thought was a good idea to show him. Nails, wood and power tools, Ron knew nothing about the way they worked and she was just waiting for an accident to happen. At least, she thought, standing up to go to the now squealing kettle, if he hurt himself they wouldn't need a trip to A&E like that time when a little boy had bitten her father, or the time Rose had a high fever and her parents had waited with her in the local hospital for four hours to be seen.

She almost dropped the kettle.

"Bloody Voldemort's balls!"

Ron yelled from up the stairs, a torrent of swear words followed so fast she couldn't make them out. Hermione sighed once more, putting the kettle back on the ring and heading for the stairs pausing only to grab her wand.

The front facing bedroom looked like a display in Ikea - a display gone very wrong. There were bits if wood placed around the room, some with other planks attached at odd angles. There were packs of screws open and laid on the carpet along with a number of tools Ron had borrowed from her Dad.

Ron stood hunched, leaning against the wall next to his half-built bookcase. His hands were thrust between his thighs and his face had turned pale. The hammer lay at his feet, clearly the perpetrator of the crime.

"what did you do?"

She asked her husband, going to remove his hand from its vice grip and check for any serious injuries. He shook his head, struggling to speak he managed to blurt out,

"It wasn't my hand, it was-,"

Before he could finish his sentence, Hermione had caught on. He wasn't putting pressure on his hands, he was using them to put pressure on something else between his legs. She burst out laughing, unable to control herself, only Ron could manage this with simple DIY.

When eventually she noticed his glare, she managed to bite her bottom lip hard enough to prevent any more laughter from spilling out.

"It's not funny," He muttered, walking over to the bed bottom of his stepladder looking like a cowboy,

"It's bloody sore!"

"Sorry, sorry," Hermione composed herself,

"well you better let me take a look."

Ron looked alarmed, his eyes jutting to the bedroom door across the landing and back,

"Rose is too busy playing, she'd have already came to see what the fuss was about if she noticed. Now, jeans off or I'll take them off myself."

She expected some sort of sexual advance in response but none came. He really must be in pain then.

He slowly unbuckled his jeans, sliding them down his legs with the greatest care, wincing as he did so. She knew this was a gentle operation, even tried to warm her hands before making things worse. She was just reaching for the waist band of his boxers when,

"Mummy?"

They both froze, eyes snapping to the door where Rose stood, one pigtail hanging out and holding a drawing in one hand. She had cocked her head to one side, trying her best to suss out the situation.

"What's wrong with Daddy? Has he got a sore bit? Do you need a plaster Daddy?"

Hermione, coming to her senses stepped away from her husband and took her daughter by the shoulder, slowly ushering her away while Ron hastily, but carefully, tried to re-dress himself.

"Daddy hasn't got a sore bit love, he's ugh,"

She glanced over her shoulder, speaking to Rose but directing the comment at Ron,

"He's just broken his wand."