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Wild Wheezes Weekend
By cwarbeck

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Category: Post-DH/PM
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley
Genres: Comedy, Fluff, General
Warnings: Mild Sexual Situations
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 19
Summary: Something remarkable always happens during Inventory Day at WWW, and this year is turning out to be no exception.
Hitcount: Story Total: 8733
Awards: View Trophy Room


Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.



Author's Notes:
Written for the lj community taking it in turns Making Magic fic exchange. My recipient was lunalovepotter, who writes the loveliest sexy H/G fics. Thanks to Chreechree, the queen of all betas.




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Wild Wheezes Weekend


“Get a move on, Harry,” a voice called out from behind him. “Chosen One or not, we can’t have you slacking off all day, can we now?”

Turning around from the stack of unsold Patented Daydream Charms that he had been eyeing with dismay, Harry gave George Weasley, part-owner of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, a sour look. “When you told me you needed a little help around the shop, you didn’t tell me that I would be required to give up my weekend to do manual labour,” he said dryly, jerking a thumb at the teetering pile of bright fuchsia and scarlet-coloured boxes at his back.

“Well, I certainly didn’t want you here for your looks — that’s Ginny’s excuse,” George retorted cheerfully. “And in any case, are you a wizard or not?” He smirked at Harry. “See this here stick? We call this a wand — a WAND,” he said with exaggerated slowness, waving said wand in Harry’s face.

“Very funny,” said Harry, batting away George’s hand.

George sniggered and aimed his wand at a pile that was labelled Honolulu Holiday Hi-jinks. “We can make it do all sorts of neat things, such as move stuff about without having to lift a finger. Here, watch.” The boxes floated up and settled in neat rows beside the packages marked Vicarious Venetian Vacation. “Ta da! Honestly, mate, how you ever managed to defeat the Dark Lord is beyond me.”

“All right, shut it,” grunted Harry, whipping out his own wand. “Wingardium Leviosa,” he muttered at the next stack of Daydream Charms. “Where do you want this lot?”

“Anywhere is fine.” George gestured towards the floor. “Wait a minute,” he said, peering at the packages as they drifted past him. “Oh, those go to the rubbish bin.”

“Really?” said Harry, flicking his wand and Banishing the boxes to the alley behind the shop. “Why? Didn’t they sell?”

The Daydream Charms were amongst the best-selling WWW products, being a certified hit especially with the witches, who bought them by the cartloads. Harry himself had been guilty of enjoying one or two during slow days at the Auror office, although he would have told anyone who found out that he had no earthly idea how Intoxicating Ibiza Interlude — featuring Ginny wearing a blue bikini that left very little to the imagination — had managed to find its way into his desk drawer.

“They did sell, but then I had to refund many an angry bloke who thought that Brazilian Bird-Watching was about a totally different species of birds.” George shook his head sorrowfully. “My fault, really. I was feeling generous and let Percy take a stab with this particular batch.”

“Percy actually had an idea for Daydream Charms?”

“Yeah, I was amazed as well. I thought that he’d finally loosened up. Git was all excited about it too.”

“Only Percy would come up with something like that,” another voice said from the doorway.

Harry watched as Ginny sauntered into the stockroom, wearing a top that was almost the same shade of blue as the bikini he had been fantasizing about earlier. She walked up to him and gave him a lingering kiss, which he returned with equal enthusiasm.

“Hullo, love, miss me?” she asked, smiling warmly at him.

“Absolutely,” declared Harry. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Ginny laughed. “I saw you just this morning.”

“Precisely.” Harry nodded his head vigorously. “Ages, I tell you,” he claimed, grasping her hand and clasping it to his chest in dramatic fashion.

Ginny laughed again. “Oh, that was simply pitiful.”

Harry pretended to be highly put out. “I thought it was pretty smooth of me,” he protested.

“Nope. Need to work on your Lockhart impression some more, love,” said Ginny critically.

“I’ll show you Lockhart,” growled Harry, grabbing her and nuzzling the side of her neck.

“Ahem! Lovebirds!” George cleared his throat pointedly when Ginny began to make appreciative mewling sounds Harry usually only heard in the privacy of their bedroom. “Nice of you to drop by and help, Ginny.”

“Wouldn’t miss Inventory Day for the world, George,” replied Ginny as she detached herself from a protesting Harry. “Something fun always happens, like last year, when Ron spilled that Shrinking Solution on himself. It was all very entertaining, watching him sulk and moan about his shrivelling willy.”

“What about the year before last when he accidentally drank the Ten-Second Pimple Vanisher and his entire head disappeared?” said George, chortling with glee. “That was hilarious.”

“‘Accidentally’, my arse,” countered Ginny, raising a ginger eyebrow. “I bet a thousand Galleons your hand ‘accidentally’ slipped the potion into his butterbeer while he was rowing with Hermione about who knocked over the barrel of Fever Fudge.”

George grinned. “I’ve been trying to ‘accidentally’ slip the Vanisher into his drink ever since then, but Ron’s become a regular Moody — always suspicious of anything I give him.”

“Who wouldn’t be?” Harry snorted. “I can still taste that Puking Pastille you managed to hide in my treacle tart last Christmas.”

“I haven’t forgiven you for that, by the way, George,” said Ginny in rebuke as Harry slung an arm around her shoulder. “D’you know how hard it is to get rid of the smell of vomit? Even Mum’s best freshening charms couldn’t remove all of the stench from our living room. It took forever before I could use my sofa again without wanting to vomit myself.”

“Sorry ‘bout that,” said her brother, his contrite tone completely at odds with the smirk on his face.

“Sure you are,” scoffed Ginny. “Anyway, Ron and Hermione are out front. I heard Ron trying to convince Hermione that your latest batch of Wonder Witch products doesn’t count as love potions, but I don’t think he’s succeeding. Best hurry up if you don’t want her to go and confiscate them.”

“Oh, for the love of Merlin’s pointy purple hat,” grumbled George, throwing his hands in the air. “They’re harmless — just a wee bit of Amortentia in them. Surely that doesn’t count as a love potion!” Harry could still hear him grumbling as he hastily made his way out.

“I thought he’d never leave,” said Ginny, pointing her wand at the door. “Colloportus.” She smiled up at Harry and pressed herself against him. “Do you recall the last time we were here in this stockroom?”

“How can I forget?” said Harry, running his hands up and down her sides. “If we hadn’t been interrupted by George, that would have been the first time we’d have had sex outside the bedroom.”

“Mmmm...” she purred. “Well, no one’s around to interrupt us now, so I hope you’re thinking what I’m thinking…”

“I hope you’re thinking that this is the part where we have mad sex in the storeroom,” replied Harry, grinning.

“Yes, that’s exactly it,” said Ginny, grinning back.

“I like the way you think, Mrs Potter.”

Harry lowered his head and kissed her again, tangling his fingers in her sweet-smelling hair. He had just managed to unbutton Ginny’s top all the way down when his ardour was somewhat cooled by the sound of someone forcefully pounding on the door.

“I don’t really want to know what you two are doing in there, but save it for later, will you?” bellowed Ron. “’Sides, it’s not like you’re newlyweds anymore, are you? You were married over a year ago, for Merlin’s sake!”

“Ignore him,” whispered Ginny, sliding her hands along the waistband of his trousers.

Harry was only happy to oblige, and in any case, he certainly couldn’t think of anything else when her nimble fingers were doing that to him.

“Harry! Ginny! C’mon!” whined Ron through the door. “This is not the time or place for a bit of nookie!”

They broke apart again, Ginny cursing a blue streak when they did so.

“‘Nookie’?” Harry asked in disbelief. “Did he actually say ‘nookie’?”

“Apparently so,” said Ginny, rolling her eyes at the door. “What a prat. Go away, Ron!” she shouted.

“I can’t! The Fanged Frisbees and the Nose-Biting Teacups have got loose, and they’re trying to bite everyone’s—OUCH! Merlin’s bollocks, that hurt! Hermione! Help!”

Harry and Ginny looked at each other and broke out in reluctant laughter.

“I don’t think we’re ever meant to ‘have a bit of nookie’ here in this particular room,” observed Harry dryly, pulling up his trousers.

“We’ll find a way,” said Ginny determinedly. “After all, we’ve managed to have sex in my old room at The Burrow, even though the whole family was downstairs for Christmas.”

“And in the Harpies’ locker room,” Harry waggled his eyebrows, “right after you won your last match.”

“And in your office,” said Ginny, tapping the stylized ‘A’ sewn onto the front of Harry’s red Auror robes, “despite the fact Robards almost walked in on us.”

“Don’t forget that time in your dad’s shed last month.” Harry squeezed her bum playfully. “Though I almost had a heart attack when he opened the door just as you had finished putting your shirt on.”

“Speaking of which, I have something to tell you about that night—”

“Don’t tell me your father actually did see us doing it!” Harry paled and swallowed heavily. “Oh Merlin. I knew he was looking at me funny during dinner.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that Dad didn’t see anything and he was looking at you funny because you were laughing like a loon at everything he said?”

“I was afraid he really had seen us and was simply waiting for the right moment to confront me about it,” said Harry defensively, “so I was trying to distract him.”

Ginny slapped his arm. “Guilty much?” She took a deep breath before continuing. “Getting back to the point, what I wanted to say was that I’m pretty certain that was the day I—”

“AAAGH!”

“NOOO!”

“Ron! George! Would you please hold still for a moment so I can get a clear shot in!”

Ginny sighed in exasperation. “We’d better go and see what we can do to help my idiot brothers,” she said, carefully doing up her top. “We can’t leave poor Hermione to deal with them all by herself. She’ll never forgive us.”

“Hang on, love.” Harry placed a hand on her arm. “What was it that you wanted to tell me?”

“It’ll keep until later,” replied Ginny, smiling at him in reassurance. She cancelled the charm on the door, which swung open silently. “Don’t worry, it can wait.”

“But what—”

All thoughts of Ginny’s mysterious news were driven out of Harry’s mind as they left the storeroom and walked into complete bedlam. Fanged Frisbees were whizzing around, snarling at anything that moved, and only Ginny’s quick wandwork saved Harry from being mauled by a Nose-Biting Teacup that had been lurking about on a shelf directly above his head.

“What happened?” yelled Harry over the noise of George and Ron, who were both wandless for some inexplicable reason, shrieking like little girls as a particularly ferocious Frisbee forced them into a corner and held them hostage. “Where did all these things come from, and why are they trying to eat us?”

“I bought some extra stock from old Zonko, but he didn’t tell me that they were damaged goods!” George complained, his arms flailing about wildly. He hastily withdrew them when the Frisbee growled menacingly at him. “And to think I bought them out of the kindness of my heart!”

“More likely they were dirt cheap,” Ginny ducked as another Frisbee went careering past her ear, “and you couldn’t resist a bargain.”

“Yeah, well,” sputtered George. “I still did it out of the kindness of my heart!”

“But how did they get loose in the first place?” demanded Harry, kicking away another Teacup that was attempting to gnaw through his trainer.

“It’s all Ron’s fault, isn’t it?” guessed Ginny.

Hermione clucked her tongue and set off another Stunner. “Is it that obvious?”

“Hey!” objected Ron as he crouched low, protecting himself from further attack with a beaded lavender Wonder Witch cosmetic case. “This is George’s fault! He bought them! And anyway, how was I supposed to know I wasn’t to touch those boxes?”

“They were labelled ‘DO NOT TOUCH’ in gigantic red blinking letters, you plonker! What more do you want — a bleeding advert in the Prophet?” George roared as he tried to beat back the Frisbee with a Punching Telescope. “And I told you about this wonky batch, didn’t I?”

“So, how do we go about this?” asked Harry, ignoring the two redheaded wizards as they continued to squabble over whose fault it was that the shop, already madly frenzied on any given day, was even more chaotic than usual.

Hermione looked thoughtful. “We could wait until the charms wear off—”

“What?!” yelped Ron, breaking off his argument with his brother to stare indignantly at his wife. “That might take days!”

“Years, even!” chimed in George, sounding as horrified as Ron.

“I think that’s a fantastic idea,” said Ginny, smirking at her brothers. “This could turn out to be quite profitable for the store. People would pay good money to see these two clowns entertain them this way.”

“GINNY!” Ron and George chorused angrily.

“Tempting,” said Hermione with a giggle, “but I’d kind of miss Ron.”

“Why?” joked Harry, earning him a two-fingered salute from his best friend.

Laughing, Ginny added, “And for some reason that wholly escapes me, I’m certain Angelina would miss George too.”

“Damn right she would!” hollered George, appearing outraged that anyone would think otherwise.

Ginny, Harry and Hermione looked at each other and nodded.

“We’d best get to Stunning the whole lot, then,” said Hermione briskly. “You and Harry get a start on the rest of the store while I’ll help these two out.” She determinedly strode towards her husband and brother-in-law, dodging demented Frisbees along the way.

Ron and George eyed her and her raised wand warily.

“Uh, Hermione, watch where you’re pointing that thing, will you?”

“Yeah! This happens to be a very important part of my anatomy, you know!”

“Oh do shut up, both of you, and get out of the way!”

It took another half an hour before they were able to get all the wayward Wheezes under control. After Hermione had Stunned the last rogue Frisbee, and Harry and Ginny had subdued a group of rebel Teacups that had taken a heroic last stand behind a display case of Wildfire Whiz-bangs, the five of them collapsed against the counters in exhaustion.

“I say we go to The Leaky and bother Tom for a pint or two,” said George, wiping his face with his sleeve. He got to his feet and grinned at them. “I’ll just get my jacket, and I’ll see you lot there, all right?”

“I’ll drink to that,” agreed Ron as George left the room. “My throat feels like it’s on fire.”

“Must be from all the screaming,” murmured Ginny, causing Harry to snort in amusement.

“I could use a gillywater myself,” said Hermione. “How about you two?”

“Er, we’ll pass on the drinks, thanks,” replied Ginny, shaking her head.

Harry looked at her quizzically. Ginny wasn’t one to normally pass on a pint or two. In fact, she had been known to out-drink her brothers at one time or the other, with the exception of Percy, who could drink them all under the table. This amazing fact had been proven time and time again, and there were even embarrassing pictures to prove it, much to Ron and George’s dismay.

“Is something the matter, Ginny?” asked Hermione solicitously.

“Everything’s all right,” she answered back. “I suppose I’m just tired.”

“C’mon, Hermione,” said Ron, tugging on her arm and heading towards the door, “she said she’s fine. I really could use that pint, and I wouldn’t say no to some nosh either.”

Hermione shrugged apologetically at Harry and Ginny. “See you tomorrow?” she said, waving at them.

Harry waved back and then turned to Ginny in concern, only to find her smiling mischievously at him. “I thought they’d never leave,” she said, echoing her words from earlier. She stepped up to him and wound her arms around his neck.

He laughed and pulled her closer to him. “What happened to feeling tired?” he teased.

“I’m too tired to go down to the pub, but I’m not too tired to have a bit of nookie in the storeroom.” Ginny wiggled her hips against him, sending pleasant tingles through Harry’s entire body. “Besides, I really did have to pass on the drinks. Can’t have any for a while, you see.”

“Yeah? Why not? Gwenog’s got you on a new training program?”

“No.” Ginny laughed throatily. “Don’t think I’ll be up for any new training programs either.”

“Ginny!” Harry was alarmed. “Did you get kicked off the team? Was it because of the post-game shag? Did Gwenog see us?” He let go of her and ran an agitated hand through his hair. “Can’t we talk to her or something? I’m sure it’s not the first time a Harpy was caught—”

“Calm down.” Ginny put her hand over his mouth, effectively shutting him up. “I didn’t get kicked off and Gwenog didn’t see us, but remember the night Dad almost caught us in the shed?”

He nodded, puzzled. What did that have to do with abstaining from drinking?

“I think that was the night you got me pregnant, Harry, and since pregnant women aren’t supposed to drink…”

“You’re PREGNANT?!” Harry blurted out, completely thrown for a loop. “But— but— how?”

Ginny tsked and folded her arms across her chest. “You see, Harry, when a wizard and a witch love each other very much—”

She broke off with a squeal when Harry grabbed her by the waist and spun her around several times, whooping with delight as he did so.

“That’s absolutely brilliant!” He put her down gently and hugged her to him. “Thank you,” he whispered, blinking back sudden tears.

“Oh Harry,” she murmured, reaching up to caress his cheek. “I’m so very happy to be able to give you this gift.”

“Well, then, it’s only fair that I thank you properly for it,” he said, swinging her up into his arms.

“Harry,” said Ginny, as he began walking towards the little room at the back of the shop.

“Hmm?”

“Is this the part where we have mad sex in the storeroom?”

“Why, yes.” He winked. “Yes, it is.”

“Oh good.” She beamed at him. “I like the way you think, Mr Potter.”

*end*


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