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Hermione Granger entered her apartment after a very long day at work.
Sometimes she wondered if it was all worth it. She had returned to Hogwarts after the defeat of Voldemort and his followers, unlike Harry and Ron who joined the Aurors to do their part to make sure the mistakes made after the first time the madman was thought to be vanquished were not repeated.
Once her magical education was finished, Hermione found a position with the ministry and now she was trying to do her part as well.
But in all honesty, most days it was like slamming her head against a brick wall.
She put her briefcase down next to the door and unbuttoned her robes, when she heard a noise coming from her bedroom.
Reflexes honed by a year on the run from some of the worst murderers the Magical world had ever known came to the fore, and her wand was in her hand without Hermione having to consciously think about it. She moved silently to the bedroom's doorway, her wand at the ready, her first spell chain already chosen. Someone was in for a very bad night.
She burst into the room, wand glowing with barely retrained power to find Ron Weasley reclined on her bed.
"Hello Hermione," the redhead said with a wide smile. "I'm off for the next three days, and so are you if Harry's grapevine is to be believed. I thought maybe we could have a little… special time together…" the doofus waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.
Relief flooded through Hermione when she discovered that it was only Ron in her bedroom.
"Maybe we could have a special time, Ron," Hermione said with a small smile. "Why don't you start by taking off my blouse?"
Ron blinked. "R…r… really?" he stammered.
"Really," She confirmed guiding his hands to the buttons. "Take off my blouse Ron."
With trembling hands, Ron picked at the buttons on the silk blouse, pulling the garment off smooth shoulders.
"Now take off my bra, Ron," Hermione whispered.
The redhead immediately moved to the clasp of the undergarment and began to struggle with it. After several moments, Hermione took pity on him and moved to unclasp the delicate lace bra herself, allowing it to fall forward and expose the delicate white flesh underneath.
"Now, take off my skirt Ron," Hermione instructed.
Again, Ron needed assistance with an unfamiliar fastener, but quickly figured it out when Hermione started moving the zipper down the smooth hip, allowing the skirt to fall to the floor.
"It's time Ron," Hermione purred. "Take off my knickers."
Ron hooked his trembling fingers into the waistband of the tiny bit of white silk, and pulled it down over a pair of silken legs.
"Are you ready Ron?" Hermione asked.
"Yes," the redhead agreed.
"Good," Hermione nodded. "Put your own clothes back on, and go home."
"What?" Ron asked.
"And Ron," Hermione continued, "Never wear any of my clothes again. I don't find that attractive, and now I have to wash all this before I can throw it out."
If you didn't see that coming, you're probably far too classy to be reading my crap.
This story has been marked as suitable for adult readers only.