The flat is quiet. That is the first thing that Hermione notices when she gets home from another long day at work. It’s the last long day as her research has been completed and the final report submitted a full three days prior to the deadline. She now has a long weekend to celebrate her success and to rest before her next assignment, when the long days will most likely start again. A silent flat is not at all what she expects to find, though, and her relief at finishing the project is forgotten as she looks around.

“Bill?” she calls out as she walks to the kitchen and finds it empty. The wireless isn’t on nor is the telly that he is usually watching when she gets home during a project. He’s probably napping, she decides. She walks down the short hallway to their bedroom. The door is open and the room is dark. She flips on the light and sees an empty bed.

She frowns as she mentally runs through their calendar. He’s not out of town on business until the end of the month and he’d have let her know if something came up that required him to work late. It’s not fair for her to be annoyed at coming home to find him gone, especially considering her often hectic weekday work schedule, but she can’t help worrying that something might have happened. His livelihood involes breaking curses, after all, and the current assignment at a castle in Devonsham could easily have gone awry.

Of course, if something had happened to him, she’d have been told immediately. One benefit to both of them working for Gringotts is the line of communication between her department and his. No, he’s not late because of a work disaster. She’s pretty confident about that. Which means he probably got busy breaking a curse and let time slip away from him, something she’s just as guilty of when she’s caught up in research.

Regardless, it’s disappointing to arrive home to an empty flat when she feels like celebrating.

Hermione loves her job, even if it can be rather consuming, and feels each successful assignment deserves some type of celebration. Whenever she or Bill completes a project, they do something special in recognition for the long hours that take them away from each other and a job well done. It’s something they started to do when they were dating years ago, and it’s a ritual that they’ve kept and developed over the four years of their marriage. This is the first time he’s not been home waiting for her when she’s finished one.

It’s a bit silly to be upset over this, she realizes, but it’s been a long four weeks with a lot of full days when she was only home to sleep, and she really just wants to snuggle against him. However, since dinner isn’t going to cook itself and it’s getting too late to go out, she sighs and decides to change into something more comfortable before making dinner.

She takes off her robe and shoes as she enters their bedroom and begins to unbutton her blouse. When that’s done, she reaches for the T-shirt lying by her pillow. It’s one of Bill’s, but she loves to wear his shirts around the house so she plans to confiscate it for herself tonight. As her fingers grip the material, her eyes widen when she feels a tugging on her belly. There isn’t time to do anything more than squeak before the Portkey activates and she disappears from her flat.

An instant later, she finds herself standing on cool stone and staring at a large bed that is surrounded by candles. There are rose petals covering the blanket, soft music playing from somewhere to her left, and what looks to be a bottle of wine on the bedside table. She drops the T-shirt and doesn’t bother to turn around as her lips curve into a slight smile. “You’re a romantic sap, you know?”

“You say romantic like it’s a bad thing,” Bill murmurs from behind her. His arms move around her waist and he kisses her neck as his hands rest on her bare belly. “Mmm…already half undressed. Aren’t I a lucky one?”

“You know my opinion regarding romance and the like,” she reminds him firmly. It certainly wouldn’t do for him to think he’s managed to change her mind about such silly nonsense over the last six years. “And of course you’re lucky. You’re married to me, aren’t you?”

“Cheeky monkey,” he accuses with a chuckle before he nips at her neck. “Yes, I know that you think flowers and candlelight is a bunch of rubbish and that you simply indulge me by tolerating such foolishness. But you know you really like it and would be very disappointed if the random flowers and special nights disappeared.”

“Hmph,” she says, neither confirming nor denying. After all, she won’t lie to him but she isn’t about to admit the prat is right. Instead, she glances around and quickly realizes that they are in a turret, which intrigues her. “Where are we?”

“Devonsham Castle,” he tells her as he moves his hand higher and drags his finger along the edge of her bra. “I’m borrowing it for a little holiday, with permission, of course.”

“Holiday?”

“Long weekend. Whatever. It’s ours until Sunday night, and I plan to shag you in every curse-free space available.”

“You just make promises like that in an attempt to distract me from questioning you.”

“Of course I do. And you, my dear, only ask questions in an effort to get me to make such promises. It’s an endless cycle of shagging, I’m afraid.”

“Hmm…I don’t see it as being an endless cycle of shagging, especially considering how often we go weeks without more than a quickie in the morning before work. Besides, you’re getting old and can’t quite keep up with me anymore.”

“I’ll show you old,” he promises as he turns her to face him. He’s just wearing a pair of worn denims that have been washed too many times. They ride low on his hips and are threadbare over his knees and on his left thigh, where she can see freckled skin through the breaks in fabric. He lazily scratches his stomach and draws her attention to the ginger hair that plays peek-a-boo with the waist of his jeans as they slide down further.

She notices his smirk and is fully aware that he’s making them fall, but she’s not complaining. Instead, she arches a brow and observes, “You’re getting too skinny. Look at those bony hips and now your trousers won’t even stay up.” She grins and reaches up to caress his cheek, her fingers tracing his scars gently as she leans closer. “It’s a good thing that I find your bony hips sexy.”

“I’m slender, not skinny,” he tells her with a hint of vanity. “Right fit, if I do say so myself; especially for a thirty-seven year old man with a wildcat like you for a wife. I can more than keep up so quit your complaining and comments about me being too old.”

“I’m not a wildcat,” she says, cursing the blush that crosses her cheeks at his words. While he does have the ability to make her lose control and gives her somewhere safe to play and try new things, she still feels slightly awkward talking so bluntly about sex.

He lifts her chin and leans down to kiss her. When he pulls back, he smiles. “You hungry? I got take-away from that curry place you love.”

“It’s not curry that I’m craving,” she tells him as she lightly moves her hand down his chest. “Perhaps you have something else that might satisfy me.”

“There’s wine by the bed,” he murmurs as he watches her closely. “Or maybe you have a different idea in mind?”

“Wine is a good start,” she decides as she steps away and looks around. She admires the turret room as she unfastens her skirt and pushes it down, frowning when she realizes it’s a bit snug around her hips. She might have to start taking the stairs at work instead of the lift.

Once it’s off, she glances down and has to admit that she’s glad she chose to wear stockings today. Her knickers are a simple pair of light blue cotton and her bra is white without even a hint of lace. The stockings, however, are black and the garter belt always seems to turn Bill on so maybe he won’t notice the more practical knickers and bra that don’t scream out ‘shag-filled weekend away with sexy husband’ at all.

She glances back at him as she reaches the bed and smiles when she sees him staring at her arse. He certainly doesn’t seem to mind the extra weight she’s gained in the last few months, though she vows to take the stairs until that skirt isn’t so snug. “Would you like some wine, Bill?” she asks innocently as she holds out her glass.

He looks up at her and smiles sheepishly before giving her a look that makes her body suddenly warm. “I think I want it all,” he tells her as he crosses the room and pushes her against the window. “Enough teasing. It’s been weeks since I’ve been inside you, and I think it’s time to fix that, don’t you?”

“That does sound like a problem that needs attention,” she murmurs as she feels cold glass against her back. The bed is right behind him but she knows that look in his eyes and can’t help shuddering slightly as his hands move over her breasts, ribs, and arse.

“Here’s to another successful completed project,” he whispers against her lips before he kisses her. It’s passionate and intense and makes her toes curl against the cool stone beneath her feet. She reaches up and tangles her fingers in his long hair, gripping it tightly as she moves against him. He moans into her mouth and bites her bottom lip, which is all it takes for them to lose control.

She scratches his back and presses against his hand as he shoves her knickers to the side. Two fingers slide into her, and she’s not surprised to feel how wet she is just from their teasing and kissing. His other hand unclasps her bra and pushes the material above her breasts so he can squeeze them. He twists her nipple between his thumb and forefinger with enough force that it makes her gasp and causes her hips to buck forward onto his fingers.

He fucks her with his fingers until she’s soaking wet and desperate to have him inside her. He brings her to the brink of orgasm and then bites her neck as his thumb rubs her clit. That’s all it takes. She comes with a whimper, trembling against the window as she rides his hand. When he finally pulls his fingers out of her, she reaches down, unzips his jeans and shoves them down around his hips.

“Now,” she tells him as she strokes his cock. His wet fingers grip her wrist and push her arm back against the window.

“What do you want, Hermione?” he teases as he rubs his cock against her belly. “Tell me and I’ll do my best to give it to you. Anything for you, love.”

“Bill,” she whines, trying to glare at him but not succeeding. She writhes against the window as he changes angles and rubs his cock against her wet cunt. She can feel the head brush against her clit but he won’t enter her. “Fuck me.”

He growls and releases her wrist so he can grip her arse. She helps him lift her and wraps her legs around his waist, resting her back against the window for balance as he tries to get the right angle. Finally, after much fumbling and misses, he thrusts his cock into her. She pushes down to meet him, squeezing him in welcome before they begin to move.

It’s fast and rough like it always is after a project is completed. His hair covers her face as he nibbles on her shoulder and neck. Her breasts rub against him, and her nipples are extremely sensitive to the light scattering of hair that covers his chest. His hand squeezes her arse hard enough to bruise and his other hand moves up and down her back as they fuck. She scratches his back, leaving marks of her own, and rides his cock as well as she can in this position.

It’s just not enough for either of them. He holds her tight and turns them before he lowers her to the bed. He moves her legs from around his waist to over his shoulders and begins to fuck her hard, grinding against her clit while he sucks her nipples. Soon, the scent of sex and sweat mixes with the aroma of the rose petals, which feel soft against her skin as he shoves her back against them with each thrust. It doesn’t take long in this new position for him to start making the low whines that he doesn’t even realize he makes before an orgasm.

He kisses her as he pushes her legs back even more and rolls his hips in a way that has his cock rubbing the spot that makes her tighten around him. With one deep thrust, his body stiffens and he spills inside her. She can feel him shudder and hears him grunt before he reaches between them to rub her clit and bites her shoulder. She comes again, arching off the bed and moaning as she trembles beneath him.

Bill kisses her lightly once they’ve stopped panting and rolls over onto his side, bringing her with him. “I’ve missed you,” he murmurs in that low, husky, sated ‘I’ve just had a brilliant shag’ voice that makes her think dirty thoughts.

“Mmm…missed you, too,” she says softly before she kisses his cheeks, forehead, nose, and chin. She looks at him and smiles as she takes off her bra and wiggles out of her wet knickers. “You know, the best part of finishing a project is definitely celebrating with you.”

“Of course it is,” he tells her with a smug smile. “After all, what could be better than shagging your sexy, gorgeous husband?”

“You mean my sexy, old, modest husband?” she asks teasingly.

“I’m just repeating what you’ve said before,” he defends before he pinches her arse. “And that’s for calling me old.”

“This was a great surprise, Bill,” she admits as she looks at him bathed in the glow of candlelight and sees that he has rose petals stuck to various parts of sweaty skin. “All this romance nonsense might be foolish, but you look good by candlelight.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” he confesses in between soft kisses. “I wasn’t sure if it was too much or not, but I saw this room and knew we had to spend a weekend here after you were done.”

“I like turrets,” she says with a sheepish smile before moves closer to him and snuggles.

“Yes, I know,” he murmurs as he pulls the sides of the cover around them so they don’t have to get up to get under the sheet. “I think we need a nap before dinner. It’s got warming charms on it so it should be fine.”

“A nap sounds good and then a shower, I think.” She debates whether she needs to go use the toilet or if she’ll be okay for a nap. Since going means moving out of Bill’s arms and she really doesn’t need to go, waiting wins that debate. She kisses him again before resting her head on his chest. A mischievous smile crosses her lips as she closes her eyes and whispers, “Sweet dreams, old man.”

End