100 Ways to Kill a Weasley

Engorgi-Uh-Oh!

Ron Weasley was in a pickle. Well, perhaps more of a gherkin. He wasn't stupid, he had seen his fellow Gryffindors in the shower. He didn't quite "measure up" to some of them. Especially Neville Longbottom. Long was pretty much an accurate description, but not of his bum. Even sodding Colin Creevy's dick was bigger than his. Since there was no other reason for his girlfriend of two years, Hermione Granger, to be dissatisfied with him, he had to assume the worst.

His "wand" wasn't performing enough magic.

Hermione Granger was in a quandry. Her boyfriend of two years, Ron Weasley, just didn't measure up. His absolute inability to stimulate her intellectually was wearing her down. She was a loyal girlfriend and did everything she could think of to broaden his horizons just so they could have an intelligent conversation for once, rather than another lengthy discourse on how the Chudley Cannons could have done the Wonki Feint thing better at the last match.

She sighed, also thinking that the sex could most likely be better.

Not that she had a benchmark, but she thought that at least it could last more than a minute and a half. She really enjoyed the feeling of him inside her. She was a snug fit and didn't mind that Ron was a bit short, but she couldn't help but wonder if there was more. She overheard Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patill talking about the fact that it wasn't the size of the wand, it was its ability to "cast".

Ron knew that sex was good. He just didn't understand why it wasn't as good for Hermione. Honestly, it only took a minute or so to get him worked up, why couldn't she feel the same thing? Maybe she wasn't as good at it as he was.

Hermione knew that sex was supposed to be good, not just for the man, but for the woman as well. She tried to feel stimulated by Ron, but it was so blinking fast. The only thing she had tried was to fantasize about her boss.

Ah, her boss.

Snarky, greasy git, former bat-of-the-dungeons boss, Severus Snape. He now had a very respectable potions research laboratory that was doing quite well. He only had one employee, Hermione. Truth be told, she was the only one he would trust to work alongside him as his equal. Hermione had developed quite a serious crush on her employer. They had formed a truly deep friendship during their association. She had an inkling from his statements about Ron being a "dunderhead" and "not worthy to breathe the same air" that he, perhaps, might really care about her as well.

Ron decided that the best course of action would be to go to his brothers Fred and George Weasley. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes could be counted on for all kinds of things. Perhaps there was a solution to his "little" problem to be found there.

Hermione thought that her best course of action would be to confide in Severus her misgivings about her relationship with Ron. Perhaps he had a solution to her rather big problem.

Ron almost crowed when he got the specialized "Engorgio" potion from Fred and George. It was a trial batch, designed for (Ahem) Male Enhancement. Fred in particular warned Ron not to take more than two drops at a time. Ron was barely listening he was so excited. When he got home, just before Hermione was due, he downed the two drops and then figured that if two were good, four would be better. What a surprise for her this would be!

Hermione almost hurled when she found Ron in the bathroom curled into a fetal position, hands between his legs, lying on the floor that had been swamped with blood. Too much of a good thing had led to an explosive situation and Ron had bled out within minutes. She did the only thing she could think of, she contacted Severus, who was by her side immediately.

"Well", Severus said. "This looks like an Engorgi-Uh-Oh."

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A/N--Thank you Ms. Figg. You are an inspiration. This is my first foray into fanfiction.