Title: You Taste Like Pumpkin
Pairing: Harry Potter/Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley/Draco Malfoy (mentioned)
Summary: Harry’s excited to be celebrating Halloween as a family for the first time in his life.
Rating: High T for some adult content, but nothing explicit.
Author’s Note: I should be writing something else.
Hermione grunted as she pushed the door open with her hip. Thank goodness the door to their flat could be opened with a touch of magic against the runic strip along the door jam. If she’d had to get her key out of her bag she’d have been screwed. She could have just shrunk the grocery bags she was carrying, but she was convinced that shrinking food caused it to go bad faster.
She slammed the door shut behind her with a foot and made her way through the entry hall and into the main area of their small flat. Anticipating finally being able to relieve herself of the heavy bags, she was quite surprised to find that the kitchen island where she had planned to set the groceries was taken up with three gigantic orange pumpkins. The sight made her stop in her tracks.
More interestingly still was the sight of her husband bent over the counter, both hands buried deep in one of the pumpkins, apparently in the process of cleaning the inside out.
Harry stood up quickly, pulling his hands out of the pumpkin, the goop in his hands dripping onto the counter as he spun around.
“Hey, Hermione,” Harry greeted sheepishly. He saw her with the grocery bags and then looked down at his messy hands then looked back at his wife. “Oh, let me clean my hands then I can help.”
Hermione walked slowly into the small kitchen and finally sat her burden down on the counter near the sink where Harry was washing his hands. She never took her eyes of the pumpkins. What on Earth was Harry doing with three pumpkins?
Harry stepped up beside her and started to shuffle through the groceries. “Hermione?”
“Harry? What are you doing with pumpkins?”
Harry grinned. “Well, it’s almost Halloween, and we can’t celebrate our first Halloween as a family if we don’t have pumpkins. Besides, I’ve never carved a pumpkin before. I thought it’d be fun.”
Hermione felt herself melt a bit at his, but maintained her stern expression. “And where, might I ask, will we put three gigantic pumpkins?”
“We’ll find a place, don’t worry so much ‘Mione.” With that, Harry went back to the groceries and started to put things away in their proper place. Hermione watched for a moment before deciding that she should help him.
When they were done, Hermione looked back at the pumpkins. “So, do I get to help carve?”
“Of course!” Harry said excitedly. “I was just cleaning out the insides. I figured I’d get the nasty part out of the way, but I only got one done before you got back.”
“The messy part is part of the fun,” Hermione said, rolling up her sleeves. They both gathered up spoons so they could get the gloop out of the pumpkins, both exclaiming happily at the mess they were making of the kitchen and themselves. Harry, of course, couldn’t resist putting pumpkin in Hermione’s hair, which led to a full-on war where pumpkin flew through the air. By the time they had declared a truce, the kitchen (and part of the living room) were a mess and so were they.
They were lying on the kitchen floor, side by side, both breathing heavily. “You are so immature,” Hermione said breathlessly. “I can’t believe you made me do that.”
Harry laughed. “It was fun.”
“Yeah, but we’ve destroyed our flat!”
“Oh, we have not, stop being such a drama queen. You’ve been spending too much time with Malfoy.”
Hermione giggled. “Oh, can you imagine him doing this? He’d die before he ever got this immaculate pureblood hands this dirty.”
“I’m sure Ron would have a good time ribbing him about it.”
“And helping Draco get clean again,” Hermione said slyly.
“Speaking of getting clean, do you want to go shower? I can help you get some of that pumpkin out of your hair?” Harry waggled his eyebrows.
“Okay. Race you!” Hermione shouted and sprung up and ran towards the hallway where the bathroom was, laughing all the way. She almost made it to the bathroom door when Harry caught her around the waist. She felt his head dip down and felt him place a kiss against her neck.
“Mmmm,” he said, “You taste like pumpkin.”
Hermione laughed and spun around. She wrapped her arms around his neck and put her fingers into his messy hair. “And whose fault is that, Mr. Potter.”
“Oh, I’ll take all the credit, Mrs. Potter,” Harry said huskily before kissing her deeply.
Hermione moaned and pressed herself closer. Together they bumped their way into the bathroom where Harry picked her up and sat her down on the small vanity. She quickly wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him even closer, delighting in the sound Harry made at the contact. Hermione pulled her lips away from Harry’s then trailed then down his jaw as she worked her fingers underneath his t-shirt.
Harry pulled away quickly and pulled his shirt over his head and threw it on the bathroom floor behind him. He watched intently as Hermione also divested herself of her shirt, then he crashed back into her, moaning as her sweet little tongue had its way with his mouth. Harry reached behind her and deftly unclasped her bra, which fell to the floor when Hermione moved her arms down his chest.
It wasn’t long before they were both completely sans clothes, neither one caring that the other’s skin tasted like pumpkin. The love making the followed was rough and fast and completely satisfying for both of them. They’d been together since their sixth year and had been intimate for most of that time. Hermione knew that the passion, love, and lust that they had would just continue to grow.
They did eventually make it into the shower, where they spent more time loving each other in addition to trying their best to get the pumpkin guts out of each other’s hair. By the time they were done and in fresh clothing, both were extremely happy about how the day had gone.
As they exited their bedroom, Harry looked at his wife with a goofy grin and said, “So, want to go carve some pumpkins.”
“Sure,” Hermione said with a smile. “And just think, this time next year we’ll have a little Potter around here to help us carve.”
Harry froze. “Hermione?”
“W-what did you mean?”
“Well,” Hermione said in her best professorial voice, “you see, Mr. Potter, when a man and a women love each other, they tend to have lots and lots of kinky sex. And sometimes that leads to the creation of a baby.”
“A baby,” Harry breathed out. “You’re pregnant?”
Hermione grinned and nodded. Harry whooped and gathered his wife up into his arms and spun her around, laughing like a loon. Finally, he sat her down and then pressed his mouth against hers, kissing her hard. “I love you, so much,” he said when he finally pulled back.
Hermione beamed up at him, “I love you too! But that doesn’t mean you’re going to get out of helping me clean up the pumpkin mess in the kitchen.”
Harry just grinned and dragged her back into their bedroom. Carving the pumpkins could wait.