Case No. 0205

A/N: So, this story loosely comes from a fan comic series I vaguely started working on years ago, though it never panned out for many reasons (not least of which is because I can't draw for shit…). However, this particular adventure, that I have written below, had not been formed at all prior to me deciding that wildegreenlight should have a proper laced-boots-clad, smutty Auror Ron for her birthday! Love you and hope your week is fabulous! x

The overarching concept for the comic series in which I have (possibly confusingly) placed this scene originally spun from JKR's post-DH reveal that Harry and Ron, along with Hermione, totally revolutionized the Ministry of Magic and the Auror Department in the two years or so after the war ended. So, this comic would have taken place during the year after Hermione's graduation from Hogwarts. She helps Harry and Ron in their missions as Aurors with both research and occasional field work. Maybe someday this will all be more than a broken shell of an idea… Until then, I think that's all you need to know? And I hope you enjoy!

Oh. And I have full plans for a part 2 but knew I wouldn't have time to finish it this week. To be continued.

ETA: Shit. I forgot to warn in my initial posting that this is straight up, dirty smut...

3rd August, 1999

It was a scorching summer evening, with the sun slowly begin to hint at setting through the trees. Three canvas tents stood in a semi-circle round the clearing where they'd made camp the previous night. Harry, along with the three additional Aurors who'd been assigned to their latest mad case, were off collecting supplies, leaving Ron to guard their camp, which mostly meant he was hiding behind a ward and pacing, worrying about Hermione.

For the millionth time since the previous Tuesday, he desperately wished they'd found someone else to do this, left her safely at Grimmauld Place, buried under a mountain of books and reports instead of running around undercover for them. But she was the one who'd got herself coincidentally invited to a bloody posh garden party at the exact location where they knew it was. And there was no one else who they trusted and who was expected to be present at said party. Not that she would have even sodding gone to the stupid thing if they hadn't needed her to…

Fuck. He was one anxious thought away from blowing the whole plan and breaking into the bloody mansion himself to make sure she was alright.

He tried not to calculate whether she should have been back by now. He tried to focus instead on what he was supposed to do the next day. And he paced, boots crunching on the dry earth as he went.


His heart rate tripled and his widened eyes flashed over to where she was suddenly standing, at the edge of the woods, just through their ward.

"I've… got… it," she panted, chest heaving over the scooping neckline of her pale blue, formal dress.

"You have?!" He rushed over to her, feet slightly numb from shock.

She nodded, and he sighed loudly, relief filling him as he grabbed her and held her tightly to his chest, closing his eyes as her arms circled his waist.

"Fuck, I was worried."

"I'm fine," she whispered to his neck.

"Don't wanna do that again."

"Come with me next time," she teased. "You'd have loved the food."

"Yeah, sod it. Or we'll stay home and pretend you didn't get an invite…"

"Mmm." He felt her heart beating wildly against his ribs, and he pulled back to look down into her eyes.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

She nodded vaguely again and freed one arm from around him to reach down the front of her dress, removing a loose, gold medallion from her cleavage. She held it out to him, resting in the centre of her palm.

"It's bloody mental how much trouble one shitty piece of metal's caused…"

A circular slice of gold, double the size of a galleon and not even very striking to look at, had changed hands multiple times due to its incredible value, leaving behind a string that tied at least half a dozen dark wizards to a series of nasty crimes, a complex case that his team had been investigating since before Hermione had come home from Hogwarts, at the end of May. But he really didn't want to talk about it, anymore. Harry and the others were gone, probably for a while still, and Hermione was back with him. She was alright. He could finally breathe.

"No one saw you?" he asked as he let go of her and took the medallion from her hand, sliding it inside his trouser pocket.

"Stealing it from the safe? Of course not." She took a small step back from him and uncomfortably adjusted the tight, corset-like bodice of her dress, licking her bottom lip.

"You're bloody amazing," he sighed, smiling. "I love you. Please don't let anyone convince you to do this shite again."

"What," she huffed, "you think I've been perfectly calm about you out here alone, in the meantime?"

"Harry just left, minutes ago."

"But what were you doing this morning?" Her eyes narrowed, and he knew what was coming. "Tracking down a murderer, unless something's changed."

"No, you're right. But I got him."

"I know." He raised a brow at her confidence.

"How could you-"

"You always catch them, don't you. Doesn't make me worry any less."

"Marry me." Her eyes widened and her lips parted, but he ignored it and pressed on. His tone was abrupt and light, but he was serious, really, and she should know. "I'll get a boring job, and you can write new laws and change the world in peace, from bed…"

He clearly saw the subtle moment she pulled herself together to reply, clasping her vaguely shaking hands, perhaps to hide from him.

"A boring job? You promised Harry another year."

"Did you even hear the way more important bit before that?" he blinked, knowing the answer anyway. She could convincingly lie to almost anyone else but him.

"Mm hm… you're nineteen, and you just asked your girlfriend to marry you."

"Yeah, and I'll do it over for the rest of my life til you say yes or chuck me."

"Yes, obviously."

"What?" She ignored his stunned expression, much as he had done hers, seconds ago.

"I love you. I'd marry you tomorrow, but you're supposed to raid a basement before lunch, and I don't think we'll have time after-"

His mouth crushed the rest of her sentence, and her eyes snapped shut as she kissed him enthusiastically back. He felt the first sporadic splatter of raindrops on his skin as her arms tightened around his neck, forcing him to lift her off the ground to get closer. She tasted like expensive desserts and fruity wine, and her body was exquisitely warm from being out in the hot sun most of the day. He'd previously stripped off his Auror robes down to an undershirt, black trousers and his lace-up boots, but there was still far too much fabric between them.

He quickly set her back down on her feet and dragged his lips away from hers, noting with a lopsided grin how much more chaotic her hair had become just since she'd arrived. Its once partially tamed plait was now a mess of frizz and tightly tangled curls, which he had immediate plans to ruin further. Taking both of her hands in his own, he tugged her down to the soft, mossy ground, but she let go of his hands again instantly to clutch his face and slide on top of his lap, skirts bunched up her thighs as she pressed swollen lips to his and explored his mouth with her tongue.

More than a year after their first kiss, it still felt startling in the most incredible way that she wanted him just as badly as he wanted her. His hands shook vaguely against the ribbons that crisscrossed up the back of her dress, and he twisted a finger in the tailing end of one, tugging to undo a bow he couldn't see.

"Mm, get this bloody thing off me," she encouraged, following what he'd already blindly started.

Sunlight still glinted through the trees, even as the drizzling rain increased, and her knees pressed down harder to the ground as she straddled him, flushing the front of her torso to his. Two of his fingers looped over the ribbons between her shoulder blades, which had loosened a bit but still remained far from unraveled. Impatient, he yanked them down, eliciting a light gasp from her.

"How'd you tie these buggers by yourself?" he muttered.

"I'm a witch…"

He laughed, sliding his hand down the centre of her back.

"You don't need me then," he pointed out, but she shook her head.

"Oh, yes I do."

His fingers abandoned her now-very-loose ribbons to move further up, weaving through her hair, open mouth meeting hers in thorough distraction. Snogging her was like arriving at a full pool of water after days in the desert, no matter how long it had actually been. Seconds, and he'd crave her again.

"Ron?" she eventually muttered between breathless kisses.

"Hmm?" he hummed against her lips. She pulled back a bit and they opened their eyes in unison, still achingly close together. Her cheeks were quite gorgeously red from the heat or snogging or both.

"Have I interrupted you doing something important?"


"For the mission."

"Hell, no. Everything's ready for tomorrow. My only plans for the night were to pace and worry til you got here."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be. Not thinking about that anymore now, am I." He managed a cheeky grin, sliding his hands to her partially bare shoulders, relishing the sight of her dress straps falling down her arms with no effort.

"Mmm," she sighed, eyes fluttering halfway shut again. She shifted purposefully against his lap, applying dizzying pressure to his painfully hard cock through his trousers.

"Fucking hell…" he exhaled, swallowing as her hands works up the front of his tight, now rain and sweat damp undershirt. "Let's get inside the tent. It's just me and Harry in ours." A grin twitched on his lips. "But I'm absolutely kicking him out tonight…"

She licked her lips, inadvertently licking his from their proximately, and he groaned deeply.

"Could we stay out here instead? The rain feels… nice. Harry and the others can't see us til they cross the ward. And they won't be back soon, will they?"

"No," he said immediately, though he really couldn't be entirely certain, but sod it.

He moved his mouth the tiniest bit forward, ready to kiss her again, but she tilted her head back, encouraging his lips to trail down the front of her neck. He abandoned one of her shoulders to work his hand up her thigh, attempting to find bare skin through layers of skirt as he lightly sucked her throat.

"Wait," she breathed. "Want you on top of me."

He'd been more than ready to magic off her knickers and drop to his back to let her do whatever she fancied with him, but her airy words of request sent bolts of pleasure through his limbs. Hearing her tell him what she wanted fucking slayed him, and he was quite sure she knew it.

"Thought about it all last night," she continued, as he breathed hotly against her skin. "Could hardly sleep in our bed by myself."

"Bloody hell… Y'know I've got no problem telling Harry to sod off, literally any time," he said as he lifted his head from her neck to meet her eyes.

"Wonder if Harry sometimes misses his life back when we'd just bicker incessantly when we wanted to tear each other's clothes off… instead of actually doing it."

"Can't possibly," he grinned. "We were fucking obnoxious."

She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth as she resisted a smile, and his gaze slid down to stare at her mouth. She noticed, releasing her lip as her hands ventured further up the front of his shirt to brush across his nipples.

"Shit. Wanna get on your back now so I can take advantage of you?"

"Charming," she teased, but she crawled immediately off his lap and tugged his arm as she collapsed to the thick moss, her hair a wild mess over her head, dress gaping loose at her chest, raindrops lightly splashing on her flushed skin.

He wedged his knees between her legs, braced his left forearm on the ground for balance, and ducked to kiss his way down from where he'd left off at her throat to her deeply scooped neckline. As he arrived, he attached his teeth to the delicate material of her bodice and slowly pulled it down, uncovering her bare breasts. He didn't quite have time to swear properly under his breath before he devoured her, tongue, teeth and lips caressing every inch of sensitive, gorgeous skin.

Slowing down enough to focus, he sucked a nipple exactly as hard as he knew she wanted, causing her right leg to clamp around his waist, and he felt her shoe thud against the back of his thigh as it fell off her foot.

He was seriously overdressed, he decided, digging the toes of his boots into the ground so he could push up to his knees and rip his wet shirt off over his head. He collapsed back on top of her again, squishing her breasts to his bare chest and snogging her deeply as her hands roamed across his shoulders, up his neck and through his damp, tousled hair.

"God, I missed you," she whimpered just as their lips separated enough for them to breathe, and he was not going to mention the fact that he'd seen her just the previous morning. He understood completely - he missed her every second they were apart.

"You, too," he concurred in a low, raspy voice, just in case she needed confirmation.

He pressed his forehead to hers as she reached for her knickers, frustratingly difficult to find in layers of skirt and with their bodies stuck so thoroughly together.

"I've got it," he assured her, dragging his mouth down the centre of her chest again and bunching her dress up to her hips, ducking his whole head underneath. He watched her legs widen with anticipation, and he pressed a fleeting kiss to her soaked knickers, thinking he'd be quick about it and rip the little pink garment off of her to touch her properly, but he was instantly overwhelmed by her scent and her taste, through thin cotton.

Rather than back away to tug them off, he closed his mouth over them, grazing his teeth lightly, delighted when her fist clenched in a combination of his hair and her own skirts.

"Oh, Ron…" she cried, "take them off. Please."

He obeyed her immediately, emerging, quite disheveled, from under her dress to sit back on his knees and slide her knickers off her hips, down her legs. But she didn't wait for him to free them completely, forcing her right leg out of them and leaving them looped around her left shin. She dragged him back down on top of her, arching on the ground as he shifted awkwardly to unfasten his belt and unzip his trousers.

There was still quite an absurd amount of frilly fabric twisted and tangled between them.

"Wanna touch every inch of you," he muttered deliriously. "Bloody dress."

"Later," she sighed desperately, "just fuck me."

"Oh my God. No one would ever believe me if I told them you said 'fuck.'"

"Don't you dare!"

"Oh, I would never. Keeping that one for myself."

The side of her bare right foot slid shakily down and back up the smooth leather of his high, laced boot, he reached down to align himself with her opening, and he thrust fully inside her.

A familiar, airy scream floated from her parted lips as her nails dug sharply into the back of his neck, and he attached his mouth to her earlobe, closing his eyes and pulling halfway out of her as she bent her knees up higher, heels pressing into his arse to push him tightly inside of her once again. Their upper bodies were slick with rain and sweat, gliding together, her hair coiling about her face from humidity, tickling his cheeks. How was it possible for anything on earth to feel this good?

He brushed the side of his nose past hers, lips almost touching.

"Fucking love you…"

She lifted her head off the ground to suck his bottom lip between both of hers, angling her hips in time with his movements above her.

"Love you… so much," she moaned, muffled by his mouth skimming across hers. "Faster."

A shaky growl rolled from the back of his throat at her demand, and he deepened their half-kiss, fully joining their mouths as he clenched a fist in wet moss and dirt over her shoulder, increasing his pace. He could almost immediately feel her body tensing underneath him. Lifting his chest just far enough off of hers to work a hand between them, he pinched her nipple, rolling it with his knuckles and the pad of his thumb. She squealed something completely incomprehensible in response.

Looking at her flushed, beautiful face, meeting her warm eyes while they did the most intimate thing together, knowing she was everything for him, for the rest of his life… It broke him, as he always knew it would, and he began to shake in an effort to maintain his rhythm as he came inside her.

"Ermynee-" She tilted her head back, almost as if responding to his slur of her name, and clenched so tight around him that he stopped breathing for a second. Her chest heaved into his, little moans escaping with rapid exhales, and her legs fell slack from his waist.

At this point, his body was begging him to collapse on top of her, but this wasn't their soft mattress at Grimmauld Place, so he gathered his remaining shards of strength and pulled out of her, rolling onto his side next to her and smiling lazily. She turned her head to smile back at him, then slowly closed her eyes. He watched, hypnotised, as rain pattered softly down over her half-naked body. It did feel nice, continuing to cool his burning skin as she felt around for his hand with her eyes still shut, lacing their fingers together.

"Mm," he eventually hummed. "Maybe we should hide out in the tent now. Don't fancy Harry seeing your tits."

Her eyes cracked open and a teasing, astonished grin spread across her face.

"Amazing. First words you say to me after shagging me."

"Oh, sorry," he laughed, scooting closer so his right leg overlapped hers and his nose nuzzled against her cheek. "How about this then… let's go to the tent so I can get you out of what's left of your dress and finish what I just barely got started with my mouth on your-"

"Stop!" she shouted over him, but she couldn't help laughing, too.