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Roughing It | ||||
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Category: Post-HBP Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley Genres: Comedy, Fluff, Humor Warnings: Sexual Situations Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 24 Summary: **June Dumbledore Silver Trinket Award winner for Best Comedy** Ron gets goaded into a bet with Harry about whether he can make it camping without the comforts of magic. One tent, four people and a rainstorm prove to be quite the challenge. Hitcount: Story Total: 10389 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: Special thanks to Lady Tory for the beta. This was written for Bibliophile19 as a result of a contest on my Live Journal. There is another version of this story at my website. |
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“That was really fun! Why wouldn’t I want to do that again?” Ron shoved another hunk of the sandwich into his mouth and chewed sloppily. The summer of 1994 was a great one in Ron Weasley’s mind; he’d gone to the Quidditch World Cup, and seen Veela for the first time. Ron tried to push back the memory of what followed the championship match and the rest of the hullabaloo that went on in school that year. But best of all, Hermione became a girl that year, and a right pretty one at that. “Well, first of all, it wasn’t really camping, Ron,” Hermione reminded him. “Muggles don’t camp that way and they have to do everything without magic.” The tent, Ron remembered, was charmed to be about the size of a cottage from the inside. The look on Harry's shocked face when he first walked inside made the long walk and Portkey travel more than worth it. Even more than seeing that old man in a dressing gown, feeling the wind on his bits. “I’ve done that. I can make a fire,” Ron said hopefully. “Really, how hard could it be?” His eyes darted back and forth between his fiancée and their friend, who sat across the table, irritatingly quiet. “Harry! Have you heard a word I’ve said? Help me out here, mate.” “Huh? What were you talking about Ron?” Harry looked dazed and confused. “Camping. Remember the Quidditch World Cup?” That memory brought a smile to Harry’s face. “That was loads of fun. But why are you talking about camping?” Harry still looked confused. “Ron,” began Hermione, “seems to think that he can camp like a Muggle.” Harry nearly spat out the Butterbeer he’d been drinking. “It’s not funny, Harry! I think it would be brilliant!” Ron was indignant. After nearly eleven years of friendship, he thought Harry would be a little more encouraging. “Sorry, Ron, but you wouldn’t last a weekend.” “He’s right, love. No enlargement charms for the tent and no magic fire. You’d be lost, trust me.” Hermione finished her salad and set her napkin on her plate. “Thanks for your support, dear.” He sat back in his chair, glaring at the two of them for their utter lack of confidence. “I really would love to try.” “Serious?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow as Ron nodded in reply. “Fine.” Harry reached into his money bag and pulled out some coins. “Here. Thirty Galleons says you can’t make it a weekend camping the Muggle way. No magic. All hard work. Two nights and three days.” Ron stared at the money Harry laid on the table. Ron just knew Harry wanted him to fail, and he would never let Harry get that one over on him. “Fine. You’re on.” Ron retrieved his own bag and matched the thirty Galleon bet. “Anything else?” He sat back in his chair again, looking smug while he crossed his arms in front of him. Hermione was trying to stifle a laugh and that only fuelled the fire. “Thanks a lot, Hermione. I would have thought you at least would be on my side.” “Oh, I am, Ron, I am,” she giggled. Ginn y Potter sighed heavily as she looked at her husband and brother pouring over various brochures for campsites. This was a ridiculous idea, she thought. Ron’s pride and stupid ideas irked her and she was going to be subjected to a weekend stuck in a barmy tent with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, without the benefit of magic. Harry, she could deal with, but her brother was another matter. He snored, he talked in his sleep and more than likely, he’d be groping Hermione all night. Just the way I want to spend a weekend. “Hey, Gin,” Ron interjected, pulling her out of her thoughts. “You pick the park.” He slid three brochures across the table at her, and the two looked hopefully at her. “I really don’t want to get involved with this. It’s bad enough I have to be dragged along.” Her scowl deepened as she saw the hurt look from her brother and husband. “Please, Gin. We’ve been over these and we can’t decide.” Harry gave her the look that normally would have melted her icy attitude. In this instance, she found it rather humorous. “Stop it, Harry,” she said dryly. “It’s not going to work.” She began a staring competition with her husband of three months. Ginny attempted relaxation techniques and tried desperately to maintain eye contact. Harry, she knew, much to her chagrin, was a master of concentration and had experience staring down criminals in the interrogation room. She was in for a rough battle of wills. Her eyes started to water and began to ache. They drifted down toward Harry’s full, pink mouth as she watched his strong, firm tongue lick those lips, causing her to sigh and look away. “Ha!” Harry beamed with excitement as he separated the brochures in front of her. “I’ll make it worth your while, Gin,” he said as he leaned toward her with that devilishly sexy look about him. “That massage oil is still unopened.” “And the silk scarf?” She smiled back, raising her eyebrows excitedly. “Your wrists or mine?” He touched her fingers lightly and began to stroke her hand with his thumb. “Excuse me! I’m still here!” Ron chirped, sounding rather disgusted with the scene in front of him. “Please don’t make me relive that whole bathroom fiasco again.” Ron shook his head as they laughed. Ginny hid her head under her hair as she remembered the time Ron was stuck in the loo as she and Harry made love. She took a deep breath and looked up at the two men across the table from her. “Fine.” She looked down at the shiny paper in front of her and examined each one, taking note of the features and prices of each one. They all swam together, and she understood the frustration the men were having at making their decision. Eeny, meeny minney moe. Catch a Kneazle by the toe. If he hollers, let him go, eeney, meeny, minney moe. Her eyes fell onto a place near Keswick, in Lake Country. She slid the brochure across to Harry and his eyes lit up. “Excellent!” “Now this model is the top-of-the line, will sleep up to eight comfortably, and has two separate rooms. The zippers are reinforced so that it will stand up to years of use. There is an optional awning that can be attached over the door as well,” the salesperson looked up at the four people in front of him, wringing his hands. He really needed this commission and hoped that all his talk of this model would be the one to put the sale over the top. In the half-hour Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry had been in the shop, Thomas Partington got to know the four friends rather well. Ron, he could tell, was cheap. Even though Thomas found out Ron was a professional athlete, it still irritated the nineteen-year-old sales clerk that every selection had to evoke some kind of reaction in the redhead. Thomas also discovered that the friends all met in school and Harry and Ginny were newly married. He really didn’t need to be told that, simply because the two never stopped giving each other looks that would cause the loosest of women to blush. Ginny was also Ron’s younger sister, but that was also easily discernable, due to their identical red hair. Ron’s girlfriend, Hermione, was beautiful. If he hadn’t seen her with Ron, Thomas Partington would have followed her around anywhere. Ron noticed and put on the protective boyfriend act that made Hermione more irritated. And sexier. He loved curly brown hair and his biggest fantasy included long hair like that covering his… “So how much?” asked the man with red hair. Hermione rolled her eyes. “It’s on sale for two-thirty.” Please buy this one! “Two hundred thirty pounds? I liked that blue one with the porch better, Harry. Let’s just take that one.” “Are you sure, Ron? It could get a little cramped,” Harry told him. He received a nod. “We’ll take the Coleman tent.” His voice sounded a bit annoyed at his friend, but it sounded like Harry didn’t want to argue anymore. The women were irritatingly quiet and sighed heavily with irritation. Thomas led them back to the Coleman tent and pulled a box from the shelf, sliding it over to the counter to ring up the sale. Hermione reached into her pocketbook and took out a list. She’s even organised. God, that’s sexy! “Let’s just double-check our list: tent, sleeping bags, lanterns, torches, cool box, cook stove, repellent, and chairs. That’s all.” She looked up and smiled at Harry and Ginny. “Ron, let’s get the boot of the car cleared away.” “What? We need to pay for this lot, Hermione,” Ron reminded her. “Let Ginny and Harry get that done,” she told him, gently tugging his arm and leading him out of the shop and onto the street. Thomas watched her as she disappeared from view, giving him a great view of her bum as she left. “You can drive on down to the pitch over that way and park next to the spot. There’s a bundle of wood for yer fire and you have to buy the rest for three quid. Shower house is on top o’ the hill. Yer site is without electric and the drinking water is by the shower house. Have a nice weekend!” Harry rolled up the window of the car and drove in the direction the man pointed. Children were already running around the place, finding new friends, chasing siblings, and getting into general mischief. The road curved around as they headed up a hill in search of an empty pitch. They were lucky to find a spot on such short notice; the site was nearly full when Ginny phoned for reservations after picking the place. “Over there, Harry!” Ginny pointed to an empty pitch on the left side of the road next to two trees. He pulled the car over and turned off the engine. “Okay, Ron, two nights and three days starting now!” He turned around to the backseat, smiling at Ron, willing him to react. “What shall we spend the Galleons on, dear?” he asked Ginny, who laughed in response. The four of them got out of the car and began unpacking the boot. “Ron, you and I will do the tent and then Harry and Ginny can set up the rest of the pitch, okay?” Hermione took charge of the operation in her usual fashion and steered Ron over to a large area of grass that was fairly level. She opened the pack, carefully organising the poles, the stakes and the tent, finally reaching for the instructions. Ron leaned over and snatched the paper from her grasp and set it aside. “We don’t need, these, Mione,” he said confidently. “We’ll figure it out.” “Ron, I don’t want to ‘figure it out.’ I want to do it right the first time and avoid any embarrassment from the other campers. Give the instructions here.” Her eyes grew wide as her anger started to build, and all Harry could do was watch and chuckle to himself as he set the cool box on the ground next to the fire ring. Ginny had already set up the four chairs and the folding table for the cook stove. She was even starting to build the tepee out of wood for the fire they were sure to have later on tonight. Now she was the camper out the Weasleys. “Ron, that goes in this slot! Pay attention and read!” Harry’s eyes were again drawn to his long-time friends as they were struggling more than was necessary to set up their tent. Hermione insisted that they follow the set of instructions and Ron, in his ever independent ways, felt the tent was rather self-explanatory and wouldn’t listen to her. This is going to be an easy win, he thought. “Hermione, just go do something else. I’ll take care of this!” Ron’s face was red, and his anger was starting to bubble up to the surface. “Ron, I think the instructions will help,” Ginny added, a smile slowly sneaking across her lips, which only served to irritate her brother more and more. “Please, Ron, don’t embarrass me.” “Bloody ridiculous, it is! Can’t it just pop up like…like…ours?” Ron glared at Hermione. “You do it then, okay? I’ll finish with the other stuff.” Ron shuffled over to Harry, who was getting the bags out of the car. “She’s right, Ron,” Harry whispered. “Muggles need instructions for everything. She can figure it out, and remember, this was your idea.” “I know that, mate, but why does she always have to be right about everything?” He sat down on a chair and looked at Ginny’s wood tepee. “And why does Ginny have to show me up in everything else these days? How’d she do that?” “Ginny got a book at a Muggle book shop and did some research. And Hermione’s been that way for Merlin knows how long, and why do you even have to ask why she does it? You love it when she takes charge, I know you do. Believe me, I heard you say it enough when you were living with me.” Ron turned red at Harry’s remark. “Come on, the tent’s up.” Harry threw a sleeping bag at Ron and they started over toward the completed tent with a proud Hermione standing in front of it. “See? The instructions were very well written, Ron, if you would just give it a chance…” “Oh bugger off, Hermione,” Ron swore, entering the tent. “Bloody hell!” “What’s wrong?” Hermione poked her head into the tent. “We’re supposed to all fit in HERE?” “You didn’t want the bigger tent. It cost too much,” Hermione reminded him. “What side of the tent do you want?” Ron sat down on the right side and started opening the sleeping bags, getting more and more disgruntled with the interior as he went. “Harry, let’s just zip ours together, ‘kay?” Ginny teased Harry. “It’ll make things much easier.” She gave her husband a quick swat on the bum and left him to his task, all the while containing a laugh at her brother’s expression. “ Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Ron asked as he dried the last of their dishes and stacked them in the storage bin. “I think the burgers came out rather well, don’t you?” “I think you’re just lucky, Ron,” Harry responded. Ron volunteered for the job of manning the grill and making hamburgers for dinner. After a close call with lighter fluid and a match, the cooking went rather smoothly. The girls worked with the camp stove and the men were in charge of the grill. For two wizards who had never done that task before, they took to it like the majority of their gender, fluffing their proud peacock feathers in the process. They were in such a good mood that they even let Ginny and Hermione go out for a walk while they cleaned up. “Flip you for the privilege of having the tent, Harry. Loser has to sleep out under the stars.” Ron eyed him cautiously. “Well, that won’t be too bad. Okay. You got a coin?” Ron dug in his pocket and pulled out a Galleon. “Sorry. It doesn’t have heads and tails. How about Muggle money?” “Yeah, like I carry that around in my pockets.” “Fine, I think I have something here.” Harry pulled out his wallet and produced a ten pence coin. “Heads or tails?” “Tails. Loser sleeps outside, right?” Harry nodded and flipped the coin into the air and caught it as it fell, flipping it onto the back of his hand. “Ready?” Harry lifted off his hand and saw the etching of the British lion. “Damn.” “Wicked.” Ron skipped toward the tent and dashed inside and emerged seconds later, tossing Harry and Ginny’s sleeping bags outside the tent just as the ladies returned. “What are you doing, Ron?” Ginny looked fit to kill, and Harry was enjoying every minute of it. “You two are sleeping outside. We flipped for it. Harry lost.” At those words, Ginny turned on Harry, pointing her finger at him and wagging it in an all too annoying fashion. “And what the bloody hell are we supposed to do outside…” She stopped, letting the words sink in and her anger melted. “Come on; let’s find a place to sleep. Enjoy the tent, Hermione!” Ginny winked at Hermione and grabbed Harry by the arm, following him down the path past their pitch. “So, where should we set up for the night?” Harry asked while he traced her hand with his thumb. The soft flesh of her hand was one of his favourite places to touch. “Don’t worry about that right now. I want to show you something,” she told him, pulling him in the opposite direction into the woods. “There’s a clearing over here.” Harry eagerly followed her with a smile stealing across his face. “Need to get away from them?” He stopped short and pulled her back to him, wrapping his arms around her. “You were right. This was a bad idea.” His face moved down towards hers and he nuzzled the sensitive flesh near her ear and breathed hot, moist air inside. “This, on the other hand, is an excellent idea.” “Harry, can you please wait for a few minutes?” She extricated herself from his arms and sat down on the grass, patting the ground next to her for him to sit beside her. “Here. I’ll get a blanket.” She reached to her pocket and grabbed her wand, conjuring a thick blanket next to her. “Shame on you! This was supposed to be a magic-free weekend.” He half-reprimanded her, half-laughed at her. “You and Ron decided that. I never agreed to it.” She had a satisfied look on her face as he joined her on the blanket. “Touché. So what did you need to show me that couldn’t wait?” She was looking up into the night sky with eyes full of wonder. Following the path of her gaze, he saw a meteor shower that lit up the sky. “Wow.” “Oh that’s eloquent, Potter. I haven’t seen one of these since school,” she stated wistfully. Her voice was airy and light, the way Harry loved to hear it at night when they were alone in their big bed with just the sheets separating them. “There are so many stars out here. I can never see them at home.” “Well, if you’re that fascinated, why don’t you try to count them?” he suggested sarcastically. “Oh that’s almost as impossible as counting my freckles.” She turned her attention away from the night sky and smiled at Harry. “Serious? Okay, lay down. I’ll count your cute freckles and you count the brilliant stars.” Ginny fell back against the blanket while Harry turned on his side. He began breathing on her neck and she shivered. “How can I count if you insist on distracting me like that?” He knew she wasn’t serious; her voice told him that much. “You try counting now.” Harry reached out a finger, placing it gently on her skin. “One, two, three, four, five. And that’s just in a square inch, Gin.” His finger continued to follow the path of her freckles across her forehead. Her breathing increased. “Twenty-nine.” Harry announced as he reached an eyebrow and headed down her nose. Ginny startled him with her laughter. “You only have twelve on your nose, do you know that?” “Harry, you can stop now. I get it. I have a lot of freckles.” “Shh. You’ll make me lose count. It was forty-one, right?” She nodded and Harry returned to his mathematical journey. At her ear, he stopped, noticing the pulse at the side of her neck. Giving into temptation and desire, he leaned into her neck and began to count in a different way. “Ninety-eight,” he whispered against her skin as his lips touch the delicate freckles of her neck and moved slowly down her throat. “One hundred ten.” Harry made that up. He’d lost count by now and was no longer concerned with the number of freckles and more concerned about the tightening in his shorts. “You’re not sleeping, are you?” For an answer, Ginny moved toward him and kissed him lightly on the mouth. “Now be a good boy and finish your assignment.” “Yes, ma’am.” With his mouth moving across her neck, he spread his body across hers, holding himself up on his elbows. Tasting the cotton of her t-shirt in his mouth, he moved his fingers to the hem and pulled it free from the denim. He broke eye contact with her momentarily as the shirt whisked over her head, revealing her creamy skin that nearly glowed in the moonlight and starlight. At her collarbone, he began counting again. “One hundred thirty-seven,” he groaned, finding the lacy edge of her bra. His mouth traced the line of freckles with his tongue. “How many now?” she asked as she arched her back into him. With her arms around his waist, Ginny tugged at his shirt, struggling to remove it from him. “Who cares?” His hands caressed her sides while his mouth began a downward journey onto her stomach. “I don’t think I’ll ever finish this,” he groaned. Slow minutes passed as clothes and undergarments were shed until it was just the two lovers lying there on the blanket underneath a shower of stars while they moved together as one. When they lay together, satisfied and sleepy, Ginny settled herself onto Harry’s chest, tracing the line of hair that led down to his navel. “Cold?” she asked as he shivered. “A little. We could sleep in the car,” he reminded her, thinking back to some of their rather memorable moments together. He saw her smile back at him, knowing she was thinking about it as well. “Besides the wind’s picked up and it looks like it could rain.” Reluctantly, the pair fumbled around in the dark for their strewn clothing and hastily dressed as the wind increased and brought along with it the smell of impending rain. Harry grabbed Ginny’s hand and they dashed back towards their camping pitch. Just as they scrambled into the backseat, drops of rain began peppering the windows, trapping them inside. “Do you think they remembered to put on that seam sealer?” Ginny wondered aloud. “I’m sure they didn’t,” Harry answered, retrieving the small bottle from the pocket of his shorts, a mischievous gleam in his eye. Hermione entered the tent and was encased in complete darkness. Her senses heightened, she edged toward the side of the enclosure Ron had claimed as their own. Her foot thumped against something soft and a bit resistant and she knelt down on the floor of the tent and reached out in front of her. What she didn’t expect was to have her hand land on the naked lap of her fiancé. “Ron! What in the world?” Before she could get another word in edgewise, he grabbed her around the waist and flipped her over so that he hovered above her, his nose touching hers. “I’ve been waiting. I don’t like to be kept waiting, love.” His voice was husky, deep and altogether intoxicating. She fought to resist, but soon found her will disappearing as she leaned in for the kiss she knew was coming. His lips moved slowly against hers, his tongue darting in and out of her mouth. “But, Ron…” She was cut off by his hands slipping her shirt off her body and over her head. “I’d much rather hear you say ‘Oh, Ron.’ You know, in that little mewing way that drives me crazy.” His hands began wandering down her exposed stomach. Hermione felt dizzy as Ron continued to touch and kiss his way down and over her body; slowly, too slowly, he removed her clothing until she was shuddering with anticipation. “Now just lay back and relax, love.” Ever so slowly, Ron removed the rest of her clothing until she was bare to him. “I love you, Hermione. None before and none after,” he murmured against her neck. As her breathing returned to normal, Ron watched her from his new position on his side and stroked her hair lovingly. Whether it ended up gray and straight or stay curly and brown, he didn’t care. Everything about Hermione made his insides turn to mush and that was enough for him. April and the wedding can’t come fast enough, he thought as they drifted off to sleep. A small drop fell on his head, bringing him out of his little nap. He looked over and smiled to find Hermione still sleeping and curled up beside him. He moved his arm tighter around her waist when he felt another drop on his head. Then another. And again. “What the bloody hell is going on?” he bellowed, loud enough to wake Hermione. More droplets began falling onto him and Hermione. In exasperation, he looked up and saw a smattering of rain drops clinging to the fabric of the tent and slowly stretching until they fell down. Faster and faster they fell. “There’s a bloody leak in the tent!” “Oh my! We forgot the seam sealer!” Hermione’s face was a mixture of panic, frustration, anger and hilarity. “Let’s get to the car!” They quickly pulled on shirts and shorts and made a mad dash for Harry’s car, splashing in mud puddles along the way. Ron reached down at the handle and swore. “It’s locked!” He wiped his rain-soaked hair back from his eyes. “Um, Ron,” Hermione said calmly as she peered into the window. “What now?” “Harry and Ginny are in there. No, don’t pound on the window.” It was then that Ron finally took a quick glance of the scene in front of him. The windows were fogged on the inside and he could just make out the colour of skin through the condensation. A muffled cry came from one of them, he wasn’t sure which. Standing there, in the rain while his sister and best friend made love like animals, Ron Weasley decided then and there that Muggles were stupid, idiotic creatures who could take their idea of camping and shove it where the sun don’t shine. “Harry! Harry! Come up here, now!” The tone of Ginny’s voice sent chills up and down his spine. He bolted up the stairs, not wanting to know what he would find. At the top of the stairs, he found the door to the bathroom open and saw her reflection in the mirror. Her face showed no signs of the panic he was expecting and she looked much better than she had when she ran to the bathroom a half-hour earlier. “Ginny?” he softly asked her. She turned around and beamed at him. “What? Are you okay?” Harry found himself wrapped up in the arms of his wife as she feverishly kissed him. Reluctantly, he pushed her away from him, trying to decipher her expression. “Are you alright, Gin?” She nodded and reached up to touch Harry’s cheek. “I think we should give those sixty Galleons back to Ron.” “What? I…I don’t understand, love. What does that have to do with this?” He hated it when she played games with him. “Well, if it wasn’t for that bet, we wouldn’t be having this baby.” |
| Reviews 24 |
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