Warning: This chapter does contain a bit more adult situations than I normally write.

Chapter 3 - Breakfast

"Hmmm," murmured Ron as his eyes opened up from sleep.

He slowly woke up to the nuzzling of a warm naked body pressed up against his. It didn't take long for him to recognize the untamable brown bushy hair of Hermione's as he gazed at her head directly below his chin. She was sleeping innocently on his chest and he wasn't the least bit shocked or ashamed that she wasn't clothed. For that matter, he could feel from the cold floor on his bum that he wasn't either.

Merlin, what a night, Ron happily thought of how he found himself in this situation as he relaxed his body and held Hermione warmly against him.

"Zzzzz," wheezed Hermione softly.

It's odd that after a good shag and short nap I can be clear headed and alert while she's totally dead to the world. Mad really, I mean usually I come home late and I barely can make a step onto the creaky wooden floor and she'd be there, wide-awake, hollering at me. Merlin, even by the time my head hits the pillow, I'm out but she can't stop reading and go to sleep to save her life. I have to shag her so she can get some sleep and I can have some peace. Ha – I even miss that… I miss a lot of things … like having a brilliant shag whenever I wanted one. I mean, bloody hell that was incredible.

Ron focused on his rather randy memories of their all-night shagging. He also couldn't help but notice that he was laying on the floor in a disaster area: broken flour jars on the floor, burnt pots of pasta and cheese on the walls and floor, spilled red tomato sauce all over the stove, the Icebox leaning precariously forward with the front door pulled off the hinge, something that looked like mangled bread scattered all over the counter-tops, and a broken kitchen table with the cloth thrown up against a window.

How did that get there…oh yeah, she tossed it there to keep the neighbors from seeing her on top of the table as she was shagged. I seriously doubt it worked though, Ron judged as he noticed that the tablecloth only managed to obstruct half the kitchen window as Hermione most likely kicked part of it down with her legs. He also noticed and remembered that three of the legs of the kitchen table had given way during a wild bit of shagging in that corner of the room. Merlin, this Muggle stuff doesn't hold up worth beans. All of it kept breaking or we accidentally tore some of it down.

Ron frowned at that thought that he realized he would have to tell his Dad that Muggle kitchens don't really hold up all that well compared to Wizard kitchens. He would also probably have to explain what he was doing that caused the table legs to break and the fridge door to come un-hung as he was bracing Hermione's naked body against it. On second thought – I'll leave those details out.

"Zzzzzz," Hermione continued to snore, all the while her nose nuzzled deeper into Ron's chest.

He briefly smiled as he tightened his hold on a peaceful Hermione sleeping on top of him. After a minute of watching Hermione peacefully sleep, he thought it would be a good idea to look around the kitchen and start mentally calculating how much of the damage was Hermione's and how much of it was his.

The Icebox is mine. Merlin these Muggle appliances can't hold up for dung.

In front of the Icebox set an upside down platter of burnt Lasagna.

That one is Hermione.

Burnt pasta and cheese on the walls and floor.

Hermione.

Broken table and ripped tablecloth.

Mine, well partly Hermione, if you count the tablecloth.

Spilled liter of milk on the floor by the stove that Crookshanks was now lapping up.

Me again, and I can still feel it on Hermione's body. Ron gently tilted Hermione's body a bit off of him. Merlin, we're practically sticking together. I thought I did a better job of licking and sucking it off her then that.

Broken oven with the hinge blasted off and the panel door lying in front of the oven.

Hermione, oh well at least it's still in the kitchen.

"Ha-ha," Ron started to chuckle to himself as he fondly remembered the first time he caught Hermione cooking. It had been when the three of them were searching the Horcruxes and were staying in an old abandoned Muggle apartment.

"Bloody hell, I'm starving." Ron loudly complained to Harry as they both carried in several heavy boxes of stolen records from Borgin & Burkes.

"Ron, language." griped Hermione as she cleared an old wooden table for them to lay the boxes on.

Harry ignoring Hermione's complaint of Ron using bad language rather agreed with him. "I could do with some dinner myself. Those eggs and sausage that you cooked this morning weren't enough."

Ron remembered that they had to share three eggs and four links of sausage as he laid his boxes down beside Harry's. "It was all we had left."

Ron looked over to see the busy look of Hermione as she took out a ledger from one of the boxes.

"Hermione, how about if I go down to the neighborhood store and buy some meat and you cook up what's left of those canned vegetables I saw in the pantry."

Ron suggestion seemed to have struck a nerve with Hermione as if the very suggestion was sexist and dirty.

"I will do no such thing! What, just because I'm a girl that you think I should be the one cooking," Hermione lectured him with a look of disgust.

Ron seemed a bit taken back by her feminist defensive response and was about to row with her when Harry stepped in before he even had a chance to set Hermione straight.

"Hermione, he said no such thing. Ron and I have been cooking all the meals since we left The Burrows—"

"So!" Hermione snapped at the both of them as if she was a wounded beast caught in a trap.

"Now it's your turn," stated Harry in a cold tone that he didn't want to argue about it anymore.

Hermione seemed a bit taken back by Harry's insistence and Ron's angry look and quickly came up with an alternative idea. "Fine, if you don't think I'm doing my fair share of the work then I'll go get the meat-"

Ron was quick to see Hermione's angle of switching the roles around and immediately voiced his disapproval. "Oh no you don't. Those are Muggle appliances in there-"

Hermione interrupted him before he could complete his line of thought. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Ron couldn't help but roll his eyes at Hermione as she knew well enough that he often burnt his hands on a Muggle stove whenever he tried to use magic on them. "This morning I burnt my hand and I don't know how to use Muggle appliances. You do. So I'll be the one to get the meat."

Hermione made a hurt face and then looked over at a tired Harry who shook his head no; he wasn't going to help her. She immediately began to pout as she slowly stormed to the kitchen under silent protest. Ron hadn't thought anything more of it until he was walking back from the neighborhood store and was shocked to hear a loud bang come out of the Muggle apartment they were staying in, followed by the kitchen stove landing directly in his path. It landed with a huge metal thump and it barely managed to miss him by a single meter.

Ron had thought it was the work of DeathEaters and had dashed into the house to meet up with Harry with his wand drawn out as well. They both jumped into the kitchen prepared to duel with a legion of DeathEaters only to find a disheveled and shocked Hermione instead. He remembered her bushy hair was sticking up in every direction and steam seemed to be billowing directly off her head. Her face was smeared with black stains and both of her eyes were bloodshot from the blast. To make matters worse she had an eerie look of someone who had lost their keys as she incoherently mumbled to herself that she needed to study for the OWLs'.

"Hermione!" shouted both of them in unison as they dashed over to her.

"I need to… have to study… OWLs' are only five months away."

"Ha-ha," Ron chuckled a bit louder, for it was the first time that he had learned his Straight O student and perfectionist girlfriend was in fact, the worst cook this side of the planet. Even when she played it straight and did no magic it still carried the same dire results which left Harry and Ron wondering how she managed to cause a boiled egg to turn into scrambled mush and links of sausage to shoot out of the kitchen like a missile.

Ron remembered Harry and he used to tease Hermione something fierce. "Oi Ron, should we get take-away or do you think we should chance Hermione's cooking taking flight."

Hermione, ever the person who would never admit defeat or imperfections, would always pout back, "There's nothing wrong with my cooking! I can't help it if these appliances are outdated and broken."

Ron, ever the tactful one, usually pushed her buttons a bit more. "If that's the case then how do you explain the stove missing my head by a mere centimeter – from across the street!"

He had always managed to tell and re-tell that same story to anyone that could bear to listen to him with the distance always decreasing. Soon he'd be telling everyone it hit him right in the head.

"Ha-ha," chuckled Ron smiling as he remembered better times.

His chuckling seemed to jolt Hermione from sleep as he noticed her eyes start to flutter open.

"Hermione," whispered Ron hoping that she was still sleeping and not awake.

"Oh my God-"

Ron gulped in fear from saying anything before she blasted off in a fit of temper.

"Hermione, it's okay. We can repair the kitchen."

Sadly, his words had no effect on her as she immediately covered her bare chest with her arms and looked deeply appalled.

This is not good, he thought to himself as Hermione started to back away from him, as if he was the last person she ever wanted to touch.

"Ron, how could you!" she shrieked at him with a look of revulsion and fear.

Of course he thought she was talking about the damage to the kitchen.

"Hey, half of this damage you caused-."

It didn't generate the response he thought he was supposed to get from Hermione.

"I can't believe you took advantage – I… I can't believe you did it," Hermione interrupted in a scream, as she seemed at a loss to describe properly what they did last night.

He had to admit, he was bewildered by her reaction. After all, it wasn't the first time they shagged and she certainly hadn't been drunk when they did it either.

"What? You mean when we shagged. You're upset about that?" Ron asked in bewilderment; quite confused at Hermione's barmy reaction.

Apparently that was the wrong question to ask at that particular moment.

"GET OUT!" Hermione shouted at him and she kicked at him to get him to leave.

"Hermione," whined Ron as he stood up, completely naked, and tried to plead his case.

"GET OUT!" she roared with the most conviction he ever heard her carry.

"Okay, okay," Ron said, bit startled by her outburst. He swiftly grabbed his wand and his pile of ripped clothes off the kitchen floor. He barely managed to put on his pants before Hermione pitched him out the front door.

"Ah, bloody hell!" he cried as he felt the door slamming shut behind him.

There he stood with his pants barely on, wearing no shirt, in Hermione's neighborhood which seemed to be filled at that moment with dog lovers who were now walking past the house, goggling at a half-dressed Ron.

He didn't get the chance to be embarrassed as the only thought running through his head was how totally confusing Hermione's behavior was. To make matters worse, he stood outside on her porch wondering if he might have blown his only chance to get back together with Hermione Granger.

"Sniff," he heard from behind the door. Obviously, Hermione was crying.

"Hermione! Open the door this is bloody ridiculous."

"Go away Ron," shouted a defiant and resolute Hermione.

Ron felt rather gloomy at her response but he was determined to dig in his heels on this one. "No! I… I don't want to go. I want to be with you."

"Then why did you take advantage of me! You knew I was vulnerable after I just broke up with Mick!"

If he was a sensitive bloke right now, he probably would've felt a bit sad and even sympathetic for her loss; except - he wasn't one of those type of guys. A huge smile grew across his face and he even took the time to wave at one of the Muggle neighbors that was ogling him as she walked by the house.

"So you broke up with Mickey, eh? What's the matter, you kept running out of tissues for him to use? Let me guess, you ordered him to wipe his feet off before entering your house and he had a complete emotional breakdown."

His cheek and sarcasm did ten times more than his pleading as Hermione yanked open the door wearing nothing more than a sofa pillow in front of her and a furious look on her face.

"You are such a foul-mouthed tactless prat."

Her little barb did nothing to wipe the smug little smile off his face after hearing about Hermione and Mickey breaking up. Instead, all he wanted to do was take a dive in and wallow all day in the trashing of Mickey.

"Did he get a paper cut on one of your books and at the first sight of blood called it off?"

This seemed to infuriate Hermione even more as she was now red-faced with anger. "He did no such thing! Unlike you, he has the ability to read something more than comic books."

"Whooo, I'm not so sure he could read one without breaking out into a fit of crying, what with his hyper-sensitive disposition. Did you have to hold his hand when he read one?"

"There's nothing wrong with a man crying-"

"Ha! Well with that vote of confidence he was definitely normal and not a spoiled pansy tosser; especially what with you knowing everything about what it's like to be a REAL man."

"He was a REAL man; least he didn't run off to be with some bimbo and then rub it in my face."

Ron's smile vanished as he shouted back, "The last time I checked, you were the one holding hands with some pathetic loser. You were the one who wanted to break up in the first place!"

"I did not! It was your stupid idea!"

He was now standing directly in front of a very angry Hermione and their faces were only a quarter of a meter apart.

"To bloody hell it was! We both might have agreed but I wasn't the one who came up with it!"

"I admit nothing, and don't get off the subject of last night! You came over here to take advantage of me."

"I didn't even know about you and weeping Mickey breaking up-"

"Ginny, must've told you. She blabs everything else to you."

"Oh like she hasn't been feeding you with news of me being miserable-"

"She has not," shouted Hermione who dropped her eye contact with him.

"That's a lie! Now let's get one other thing straight - I didn't take advantage of you. What kind of bloke you take me for?"

Hermione loudly snorted in contempt as she raised an eyebrow up at him.

"You were the one screaming, "Don't stop Ron. Don't stop, just keep going," he snapped as he mimicked her voice, reminding her of what she said while they were shagging on the kitchen table after it had broken.

The huge blush of embarrassment on her face said more than anything else as she feebly responded, "I… I can't believe you. You come over here and play against my feelings that I used to have for you – and then you have the nerve to accuse me of being responsible for our breakup!"

"Used to? Ha! Merlin, it looked a lot different to me last night! As for our breakup, I came over here last night to beg you to take me back! I regret it now you insufferable-"

He never even got to finish his sentence as Hermione's face lit up with realization and she immediately dropped her pillow and jumped him out on the porch with a huge kiss.

He even overheard a Muggle man from the sidewalk commenting, "She certainly isn't shy is she?"

To Ron's surprise that Muggle wasn't alone.

"I'll say, she's got a good pair of lungs on her too."

"More than her lungs I wager."

"Her… ump… mion...eh," he tried to gasp while they were still kissing. "We… umm… need to… hmm… go inside." Ron looked over his shoulder to notice a small gathering of gawking onlookers.

Hermione held her eyes shut as she continued to kiss him and refused to go inside. Bugger! Ron dropped what was left of his clothes, picked Hermione up and carried her back through the door, letting it bang shut behind him. After a few more minutes of heavy snogging Hermione finally spoke, "Ron, I was miserable without you. Please don't ever do that again."

He smiled even though he was a bit confused. "I'll swear by Merlin on that." He reached down and sealed it with a deep kiss before mentioning something that might disrupt their happiness. "Hermione, you don't suppose I could be the one to cook some breakfast for us do you?"

She widely smiled and responded, "What you don't want me to cook it?"

"Maybe tomorrow, the neighbors have already gotten enough for today."

The END!