So Many Lemons

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Summary: {Post-War}

Ron has survived the war and grown up to finds himself more or less happy with his job and his eclectic family, not to mention his goals and orientation in life. Yet, there’s no denying that he could use a little stirring up, though he may not know it. And considering the sheer number of happy couples and surrogate nephews and nieces he’s suddenly surrounded by, maybe he’s got to get on that family-forming wagon too.

But before that, Ron gets a feeling that he’s going to need a little something special for himself, but he happens to not actually know that just yet. And neither does his soon to be intended target.

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Ebra’s Notes: So Many Lemons is absolutely AU; I’ve done nearly whatever I want with it. It is in 1st person. Hope people enjoy it anyway.

Warning(s): Fluff/Sap, Violence (in later chapters), Lime/Lemon (Sexual situations), Language.

Legend: ~!@!~ is a page break/end of scene

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So Many Lemons:
Lime Can Be Pleasant Until…

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Preamble:

On an especially bright Saturday morning it is not uncommon to find Harry Potter, Savior of the wizarding world, having early breakfast with his best mate Ron, in the aptly named little café ‘Quiet Corner’. Harry, being a terribly visual person, often indulged in people watching along with his tea and was perfectly content to hear about whatever new adventure Ron had decided to engage, but that morning, a curious occurrence took place that Harry would later remind Ron was perhaps the beginning of a series of extraordinary events.

Presently, Harry only spoke out of natural curiosity: “Hullo, what’s this then?”

Harry’s voice drifted across the table to Ron who looked up inquiringly, causing the teaspoon that was well on its way to Elseph’s waiting mouth to pause, “Pardon?”

Harry turned to look at Ron, wide eyed, “I thought I just saw Draco Malfoy”

Ron, jovial fellow that he was, burst into disbelieving laughter, spilling the small spoonful of baby food, “Getting married and having kids wasn’t enough for you was it? You’ve decided to go naff along with everything else?”

Harry blinked sheepishly at him and took up his own teaspoon to continue feeding Serius, “You’re right. I must still be asleep. Draco’s been gone to Europe for ages. The papers would’ve been all over it if he’d come back”

Elseph let out a cry fit to shatter windows in a bid to attract Ron’s lost attention and he promptly returned to feeding her, “Honestly, Harry. Picture Draco ruddy Malfoy back to terrorize us all. If I wasn’t your best mate I’d call you mad”

Harry smiled brightly and teased Sirius with a finger, “I’m going to tell ‘Mione you used that language in front of the kids”

Ron gave Harry a winning smile, “Sod off, Daddy”

They bantered back in forth a little deeper into the morning until the twins were fed and Diagon Alley grew busy in the early noonday sun. They left ‘Quiet Corner’ and said their goodbyes, Ron pretending not to hear Harry remind him to bring his latest conquest round for dinner and promptly ruffled both the twins hair and set off, feigning indifference concerning the three semi-indignant Potters he left behind.

‘Heaven forbid’, Ron thought, laughing to himself and shaking his head, ‘Draco Malfoy, of all the bloody people…’

Ron hadn’t heard that name in nearly three years and he’d be quite content to keep it that way.

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{Ron that following Monday}

“Merlin’s balls, you’ve done it!” Rhys declares enthusiastically, hanging over Seamus’ other shoulder and clapping him on the back.

Well, I wouldn’t go that far but I’ve got to contribute: “Yeah, it’s rather…big, I s’pose”

Seamus makes an obscene gesture in my direction.

“Well, alright, it is rather good for a first go isn’t it? Congrats, Finnegan”

Seamus beams at me and tacks the ultrasound to the locker room office board. You can easily make out the shape of the baby forming. I’ve seen so many ultrasounds in the last year I might as well be a gynaecologist.

I roll my eyes at Seamus and declare to the room at large, “Why are all you blokes suddenly becoming fathers? Is the world about to end again?”

Seamus isn’t the least bit dampened, “Ron, if you weren’t so busy flying for the wrong team we’d have let you in on the secret ages ago”

The room at large seems to be laughing at me.

Grinning, I wave them off, “I fancy who I fancy, gents. I’ll leave the changing diapers to your capable lot any day”

Rhys gives me a broad grin before addressing the room, “Right, back to work with all of you. Seamus will be heading the Wiltshire expedition and the few of you on-call should finish off the Cambridge trip paperwork. Ron and I will be off to The Ministry for the duration of the afternoon. They’ve finally figured out our new budget”

“We’ll have proper wage increases, I hope”, Embry offers from the back of the room.

Rhys makes a comically dubious expression that sets us all off laughing madly again and motions for me to follow him out the door. Seamus gets a hold of himself and starts setting them tasks as the door falls shut behind us.

I’ve worked with the independent branch for Aurors In Training for nearly two and a half years and have yet to get sick of it. I hadn’t the mettle left to continue on as a full-fledged Auror as I’d seen my fair end of violence and dark magic since the war but I wasn’t keen on leaving off fighting evil either. Harry himself had started a career as a professional Quidditch player but reserved the off-season for helping to train the young ones fresh out of school. Seamus and Neville boarded ship not long after Harry and I, as our resident Chief Inspector and Magic-Induced Demolition expert respectively and we’d become a close-knit family.

The other people who may have joined our little initiative weren’t around anymore.

Anyway, Rhys technically is my boss but we’ve gotten along swimmingly since day one. He’s a rather little man despite his five feet seven inches but he’s bright and idealistic and sometimes I wonder if it wasn’t the gleam in his blue eyes, his uncanny moustache and sunny disposition, not unlike a headmaster I once knew, that had me doing my very best to get noticed at my interview the first time I met him.

At the end of the hall, Rhys stops at our fireplace cum Floo-network connection and eyes the thing warily.

I take a step back before attempting a quip, “I thought you might’ve dragged me along to convince you to use the Floo. Grown men everywhere would laugh their arses off to see you now. Chief Auror and Head of Operations, my fit bottom”

Rhys tries to swat at me as I’d hoped and I only have to side step slightly to avoid it, “Respect you elders, Mr. Weasley”, he declares in an amused tone but hesitates nonetheless.

“Blimey, how else are we supposed to get there if you don’t take the Floo?”

Rhys gives me a look that shuts me up only insofar as I try to keep my laughter to myself, “Well, alright. Take your time then”

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Rhys wasn’t up for it; we Apparated instead and Rhys abandons me in the Atrium and sets off to see to that funding and I set about making a general nuisance of myself. Right.

“Popping in to visit me, Ronnie?” Miranda inquires as I lean against the service booth.

“Not a chance”, I tell her winking, “Collin anywhere about?”

She gives me a look that speaks volumes, smiling knowingly all the while “Minister Hemming is awfully occupied of late. Must you bother him so early in the day?”

I grin and push off towards the elevators, “You can either warn him I’m coming up or not, but I am going”

I greet people I know as I make my way across to the row of elevators against the far wall and board one along with several memos and another elderly, but important looking, wizard. Turning to face front, I think I catch a glimpse of blond hair so light it’s very nearly pale beige or white, but I shake my head, ‘There’s no way’

I’ve got Collin on the brain and maybe thirty minutes to get up there and back before Rhys comes looking for me. Better make it count.

I forget about my sighting soon afterwards and don’t recall it later.

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{Ron on that Tuesday}

‘Mione has grown to be impossible, much like her hair. I’m not sure how Harry ended up with her as he’s told me numerous times that he gets as fed up with her as anyone else but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s had Elseph and Sirius with her, which makes her, to tally it up proper: the mother of his children, his wife and his dietician.

“Bob’s your uncle”, Harry replies promptly when I tell him this.

I wrestle Serius out of his jumper and stage whisper to him, “Your Daddy’s lost his bollocks to your mother and there’s nothing for it. Uncle Ronnie will stop you going daft though, so no worries there mate”

Before Harry can answer back, Hermione’s voice rings up from downstairs: “Will you two stop faffing about up there? I can’t find any of the Wellingtons or Macintoshes”

“Bugger it” Harry declares moodily, doing his best to coax a sleepy Elseph out of her one-piece, “Why are we going to this again?”

I grin at him, “Because you married her and she’s going to this baby shower with the lot of us whether we want to or not”

Harry has gotten along well in life. He married ‘Mione after the war, joined ‘The Arsenals’ and promptly started settling down. He’s matched me surprisingly well in height, minus a good two inches and still hasn’t managed any way of taming his hair. One of his eyes has gone darker and the other lighter but as far as I’m aware it was a side effect of the battle with what’s-his-name. The scar is a rather prominent landmark on Harry’s face but doesn’t do much to diminish Harry’s rather nice facial structure. He’s got permanently pink ears and is most often seen smiling.

“Alright for you to say; you always sneak off part-way through!” Harry then offers me a gobsmacked expression, “How do you do that?”

He indicates the fact that I’ve managed to fully change Serius’ clothes.

I shrug and trade him Serius for Elseph and set about unbuttoning her dress wassit, “Natural talent, mate. You can save the world effortlessly and I can get sleepy infants into their evening kit. To each his own”

Harry scoffs and we are interrupted by ‘Mione in the doorway, “Honestly, you two. We’re already late!”

Hermione wasn’t keen on being much of a girl back in school but she’s gotten the hang of it now. Like her husband, she’s never had any improved control over her hair so she’d solved the problem in typical Hermione fashion by hacking the whole lot of it off. She now sports a stylish semi-curly pixie cut. She’s vertically challenged at five foot four but Harry likes her that way and she’s probably bossier and more of busybody than any other wife on the planet. She’s a Sixth division Medi-Witch/dietician and paints in her spare time. She hires a cleaning service to mind the house and spends more time coddling everyone she knows and barking about ‘faffing about’ then actually being feminine or any of that other tripe women are all about.

“We’re done” Harry says mock-defensively, “Keep your hair on”

‘Mione brightens up instantly, “Let me have them then and you two can find the rest of our necessaries”

Harry and I roll our eyes at each other. It’s barely drizzling but we’ve got to go out in full anti-rain regalia when we’re only going a block down the street to see Seamus and Daphne.

Grumbling, I set off after Harry, “Harry, you had to marry the nuttiest bint in England?”

‘Mione answers for him from the top of the stairs, “Ronald Bilius Weasley, you better watch what you say around this particular ‘bint’. She happens to now how to hex you into next week using wand- less magic”

Harry sets off laughing and I salute her, “Understood. Cor blimey, ‘Mione, scare a bloke stupid why don’t you”

She smiles evilly and points us towards the closet. Harry and I get our arses down those stairs and into that closet pretty quick, let me tell you.

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{Ron on Wednesday}

Collin’s got a day off and we’ve been mucking about his flat trying to discover the whereabouts of his poncey cat, Humphrey.

I’ve long since found a comfortable place to put my bottom as I’d already seen the cat licking the fur behind his bollocks out on the balcony but couldn’t bet bothered to tell Collin as I quite fancied watching him search for the fur- ball on hands and knees and arse up for the remainder of the morning.

Trust that cat to keep me from it though. It saunters in and pounces on my boyfriend in a bid for attention and glares balefully at me over his shoulder.

I narrow my eyes at him; we’ll see who gets out on top.

Humphrey is most definitely kicked out of the flat less than ten minutes later when I want to have my way. I won’t have the cat watching while I get my end in.

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{Ron’s Thursday and Early Friday}

Seamus is fuming, “It’s been nearly a day and if their bloody operation doesn’t go balls up in the next twenty four hours so help me God I’ll owl Rhys. Trust Emery to take his time running interference”

Harry is laughing inside his parka, which doesn’t bother a sleeping Neville in the least, I can see, and I would also be similarly amused if I wasn’t holding Neville’s equipment. We’re talking about stuff that blows up if jarred in any untoward fashion. Cheers.

Rhys scheduled a run through for a few new recruits we’d registered at the end of last term. They we’re supposed to be brilliant and had so far thwarted all our textbook-easy preliminary attempts at breaking their camp. They’d had less than eight hours to set it up and it’d held together rather well against Neville’s baser machinations, Emery’s attempts at dodgy interference and the irritatingly cool and foggy weather of this part of Ireland.

Next up would be Seamus and Harry and I doubted then that they’d still be standing after those two had been through. It would take less then ten minutes, mind. Seamus has just got shite for patience.

Now, if I could get to Neville’s rucksack without so much as tripping over any of these ridiculous Irish rocks, then I’d be a happy man.

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{Ron’s Late Friday}

Back at the office, after a proper debriefing of seven disheveled and harassed young potentials, yours truly has a date with the shower. That is, if Neville ever comes out of it.

I’d use the ones upstairs but I can’t be arsed to go that far right now.

Harry leaves first, waving me goodnight, his head in today’s Daily Prophet for some odd reason and Seamus Apparated home the second he found Rhys and barked a quick summary.

Emery and McPherson see to the mess of kit we brought back with us, steering clear of Neville’s rucksack. Double Cheers.

On second thought, I have got a flat and it’s got a great shower. Mustn’t leave these tired muscles aching, Neville still in the blasted shower and paperwork be damned.

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I rather like my flat. I’ve done all right for a twenty four year old living on his own. I miss The Burrow but what kind of man would I be if I admitted that? Mum still sends me care packages once a month, which are lifesavers whichever way I look at it and I’m quite happy to owl her and dad twice a week: ‘No, I haven’t been hurt recently at work. Yes, I am eating. No, I am not lying. Yes, Collin and I are still dating and No, I will not bring him round to meet everyone. I haven’t mentally prepared enough.’

It’s not an overly large flat either: with one bedroom, one bathroom and a kitchen. The redeeming features are in the view and the living room floor space. I’ve got a muggle TV, a mini fridge, a proper sofa set, a decent number of houseplants and a pool table. I used to dream of a place like this when I was back in school.

After a long shower, slipping into my house clothes and slippers, having a light dinner and zoning out on the couch in front of the TV, I should like to explain where on earth this narration of mine is going.

Picture this:

Unsuspecting me goes off to bed and wakes up to a normal Saturday morning. As per usual, I am getting dressed to meet Harry and the tots at ‘Quiet Corner’ for an early bite to eat and I notice none of the following:

That the clock alarm that woke me up, the newspaper I tucked under my arm after retrieving it from the post box for Harry and pretty much all other forms of display or communication were advertising this: the return of a certain blond someone I had never expected to hear of again.

Now, the daft bit is what I’ll be explaining next. Over the course of the upcoming fortnight I’ll have broken up with Collin, sustained a rather un-funny injury on the job, transfigured Seamus’ desk into a threat to his person and run into that blond bane of my existence often enough to suddenly begin to fancy him.

Mind, if I’ve know this as I was strolling off to breakfast unawares, I should’ve liked to put myself out of my misery early on. Seeing, however, what I’ve already gotten myself into, might as well suss out how this all may have come together in the first place.

Shall we?

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TBC.