Warnings: I would say this is Smut With Substance, and just a tad fluffy. Also, this is Un-Beta'd as usual, so don't crucify me.

Swings Are Not For Children

Hermione buttoned up her light pink blouse and ran a brush through her curly hair, checking her reflection in her bedroom mirror one more time. She hadn't been to the weekly Weasley dinner in months and she was quite excited to catch up with the family.

She knew the Burrow recognised her magical signature, so she Apparated right on their front doorstep. It would have been presumptuous, and not a little bit rude to Apparate right into the kitchen. Knocking on the door, she was surprised when it opened almost immediately but there was no one on the other side.

'Hello?' Hermione called loudly, stepping into the front foyer and waiting for a reply. When there wasn't one, she walked through the house to where she knew the kitchen was. It was an hour before sunset and Hermione wondered why there weren't any lights lit around the house yet.

It was quiet. That alerted Hermione that something might be seriously wrong−the Burrow was never quiet.

Her wand was still in her hand, and with silent feet, looked into each room on the way to the kitchen. She expected an attack any moment, and she was seriously worried about Molly and Arthur.

When she finally reached the kitchen, she took a deep breath and quickly stuck her head around the doorjamb, taking in the whole room before pulling back.

As far as she knew, it looked completely empty.

Stepping into the doorway, she noticed one lamp lit on the kitchen table and a piece of parchment next to it.

Striding over to it quickly, she scooped up the note and looked around again before bending her head to read it.

Dear Hermione,

You'll get this before anyone else, since none of my children have learnt the art of punctuation.

Fleur has gone into labour. I would have sent an owl, but by the time the news came, it was too late.

The others will be along soon, so would you mind terribly staying for a while and catch any stragglers that come by. Send them onto St. Mungo's.

I'm so sorry about dinner, dear. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen.

Love, Molly

So much for the weekly Weasley dinner, thought Hermione, putting down the note and making her way toward the kitchen cupboard. She was happy for Fleur, of course, but now she was stuck with a responsibility she didn't want, when there was tons of paperwork waiting for her at home. She had really wanted to see the Weasley's and sitting here by herself, waiting for any "stragglers" to arrive, wasn't how Hermione thought the evening would go.

Grabbing herself a roll from the bread bin, she sat down at the kitchen table and waited, staring out of the window and watched the sun go down.

The first to arrive was Fred and George. They surrounded her immediately, taking chances by touching her inappropriately and making her laugh as she swatted their hands away. After Fred groped her arse, he finally noticed the house was empty and had the wit to ask Hermione what was going on.

'You're only noticing now? You're such a git. Moody would be appalled.' Looking at Fred, Hermione could practically see 'Constant Vigilance' flashing across his mind, and she could see he felt guilty for not noticing sooner.

'Yeah well, Hermione. Who could notice anything with you teasing us outrageously! You should be ashamed of yourself.'

Hermione snorted and crossed her arms across her chest. 'You're not at all curious as to where your parents are?'

George flung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his side. 'Well, go on then.'

'They're all at the hospital.'

Fred and Georges expressions suddenly became serious, and they suddenly closed ranks against Hermione, standing shoulder to shoulder in front of her. 'What the hell happened?'

Hermione leaned against the table and crossed her arms. She was enjoying making them sweat, immensely. 'What do I get for disclosing this information?'

Fred stepped forward, trying to intimidate her with his height and saying nothing.

Hermione wasn't fooled, and she just raised her eyebrows at their bullying tactics.

George finally sighed, realising that they would get nowhere with her unless they played her game. 'What the hell do you want?'

'Immunity,'

They looked at her suspiciously. 'Explain!'

Hermione stood up to her full height which only came to Fred's shoulders and poked him hard in the chest, but it seemed to work as he flinched away from her. Hmm, that's very interesting. "I cannot count the times you...' She paused, unable to find the right insults for them. 'Infantile Neanderthals,' she ended lamely, 'subjected me to your stupid pranks and experiments. I want immunity.'

They both grinned at the same time. 'Six months.' They said together.

Hermione crossed her arms. 'A year!'

'Eight months.'

'Two years.'

'That's not how negotiations work?' Fred intoned, outraged.

'No?' Hermione said in a dangerous tone. 'How important is the information. Someone could be dying and you wouldn't know it.'

'You would never keep information from us if someone was dying, Hermione. Please get serious.'

Hermione shrugged and walked over to the sink to pour herself a glass of water. 'I guess you'll never know.'

'Fine.' George said, his voice laced with humour. Of course Hermione wouldn't withhold fatal information from a family member involved, but the twins were curious by nature, and right now it was killing them. 'One year. Your original offer.'

Hermione turned around, flashing them a smile and holding out her hand. 'Done!'

Fred, then George stepped forward to shake her hand.

'Fleur's in labour. Little Victoire will be opening her eyes to the world tonight.' Hermione seemed to think about this. 'Unless there are any complications, but last I heard, they were both very healthy.'

Fred huffed out a breath. 'That's it? Why would we want to go see a baby?' He said the word as if it were a swearword.

'Hold on there, Fred.' George said, placing his hand on Fred's shoulder. 'Don't you know that fit healer that works on the maternity ward?'

Fred grinned and his eyes lit up. Hermione already felt sorry for that poor woman. 'That's right, George, slipped my mind that had. Might be worth a trip to say hello to the niece.'

Hermione rolled her eyes and slipped back into her chair, watching them interact.

'Right you are, Fred.'

George then looked to Hermione, walked over and gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek. 'It was lovely seeing you, sweetheart. We'll be off now.'

'Goodbye. Don't forget our deal.'

Fred kissed her on her other cheek. 'Would never think it, darling.' And with a jaunty salute, he Apparated, leaving George alone in the kitchen with Hermione.

'Git!' George said, taking out his own wand, and before he disappeared with a crack, snarked, 'He just wants a head start on that bird.'

Before Hermione knew it, she was once again alone and already missing their company. She settled down to wait again, telling herself that she would wait half an hour more before leaving.

She had better things to do.

It was fifteen minute later when Ron and Lavender arrived, Percy and Audrey right behind them. Hermione told them the news and without much chitchat, they left again. Lavender wanted to coo over the baby. Not that Fleur would let Lavender near her kid, Fleur despised her. Hermione had never learned why.

Hermione knew that there was no chance of anymore arrivals; everyone who usually came for dinner had already arrived. There was no point in staying anymore, but she was reluctant to go home. Although she had complained internally about staying at the Burrow all by herself, waiting for people, she was even more reluctant to go home to an empty flat.

She couldn't face that right now.

Hermione walked over to the kitchen window and looked over the back garden. The sun had just set, leaving an orange line on the horizon. The fairies in the garden were bright tonight, leaving the garden dotted with dim, white lights.

Hermione sighed; she had always loved the Weasley garden. It was untamed and wild, but still well loved. Walking out into the night, Hermione breathed in the warm night air and started walking to the left, past Arthurs shed and into the copse of trees just beyond it.

This was where all the children used to play as kids, and it had definitely been neglected the past twelve years. There was a slide to the edge of the bushes, lonely and in disrepair. The massive oak to the side had a thick branch five meters high and reaching across the space. It would have been dark if not for the fairies lighting up the bushes on either side.

Hanging from the branch overhead, was a wide wooden plank swing, suspended from thick ropes on each side.

Hermione felt as excited as she would have been as a kid and walked over to it, tugging hard on the ropes to check the stability. Looking up, she discovered the branch had grown around the rope, embracing it like a lover. It seemed very sturdy and she couldn't wait to give it a go.

Seating herself and pushing off with her feet, she felt the swing take over and push her higher. Arthur must have jinxed the swing to push itself when he had put it up for his kids.

Hermione was laughing out loud, holding onto the ropes as her feet touched the sky and her head tipped back in giddy freedom. She tilted her head forward, looking down at the ground on her swing back and gave a startled scream. A dark figure was standing, not two meters in front of her, just out of range of the swing so he wouldn't be knocked back. When she swung forward again, she recognised the face and gave a relieved laugh, even though her heart never calmed down, in fact it stuttered even more.

'Charlie! You scared me.' He just grinned at her.

Hermione would have stopped swinging if it weren't for the swing having a momentum on its own. She would have eventually figured out how to stop, but Charlie's appearance had switched her brain off momentarily. Gods, he was looking good.

Under the romance of the fairy lights and the warm night air, he looked irresistible and Hermione found she was extremely susceptible.

'Jump, Hermione.' He said in a low voice, holding his arms−his brawny, extremely defined arms−out in an offer she just couldn't refuse. 'I'll catch you. I promise.'

Hermione didn't even think about it. She wanted to be in those arms.

On the next swoop forward, she released her hold on the ropes and let herself fly, her eyes on Charlie the whole time as she fell right into his arms.

He caught her easily, manoeuvring himself in such away that he would catch her bridal style−one arm under her knees, the other around her shoulders and back, supporting her completely. Hermione felt her arms twine so naturally around his neck, and she had to fight the instinct to push her fingers through his hair. Their faces were close, and Hermione felt her heart beat faster and her breath hitch.

Charlie was staring into her eyes, his face intent, but when his eyes dropped to her lips, Hermione leaned in a few inches closer, feeling his soft breath on her mouth with his every exhale. With a soft murmur of her name, Charlie closes the distance and took her lips with his own. Hermione inhaled sharply into his mouth and then kissed him back fiercely.

Their first kiss wasn't tender, nor was it as romantic as the atmosphere. Charlie kissed her hard, wanted her mouth desperately. He nipped her lower lip before bringing their mouths together with a clash of tongue and teeth. Charlie let go of Hermione's legs, and she felt her feet touch solid ground. He wrapped both arms securely around her waist and jerked her body against his, trailing his hands down her back, he cupped each buttock in the palm of his hand and squeezed gently.

Charlie broke their kiss with a gasp and attacked her throat with lips, tongue and teeth. He brought his mouth up her throat and latched onto her earlobe, making Hermione shiver deliciously. Hermione couldn't help but bring her hands to his hair, gripping it tight, before moving down to grip his neck. Stroking her palm across his delectably wide shoulders, she moved them down over his collar bone, towards the fascinating slope of his pecs and down further. Stroking a hand across his stomach, she could feel every ridge over his t-shirt and she desperately wanted her hands on him.

Hermione was frantic for him, wanted him so much. She wantonly attacked the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up and over his head and immediately ran her hands over the warm, brown flesh of his stomach.

Charlie seemed to feel the same need, as each button down her blouse was undone one by one. Once this was done, he pushed the material back over her shoulders and down her arms. He leaned back slightly to look at her, and Hermione could see the desire flare up in his eyes even brighter. Charlie ran the back of his knuckles up over his tummy, up over her bra where he paused to stroke a nipple into sharp attention, the bent down to take it in his mouth over the material.

Hermione gasped his name and grabbed at his hair, arching her body closer to his mouth. Charlie reached around her body and with one hand quickly flicked open the strap, and Hermione wasting no time flinging the damn thing away from her.

The feel of Charlie's tongue on her nipple made her moan, and he loved it long and well before moving on to her other breast. It started becoming too much for Hermione and when she felt his teeth scrape over it, she bit her lip as she throbbed between her legs.

She grasped his head with both her hands and finally pulled him away, drawing him up to her lips so that she could kiss him again. Her hands trailed down his body again until she came to his belt buckle, she began to undo it but his large hand around her wrist stopped her.

'Let me.' He whispered against her mouth, but instead of undoing his own belt, he went for hers. Undoing it quickly and tugging at her zipper, he had her jeans and knickers down in record time.

When she was completely naked, he kissed her again, slowly guiding her backwards until the back of her thighs nudged the swing.

'Sit.' He said, pushing her down gently. Hermione gripped onto the ropes to steady herself, and her eyes widened as Charlie moved to kneel before her. He gently spread her legs and looked at her. 'You're beautiful.' He murmured.

Hermione tried to relax, but she only tensed up again as he ran a finger down her slit causing a jolt of pleasure to run through her. 'Hmm, you like that do you?'

'Please.' Hermione moaned, closing her eyes as he did it again.

'I'll look after you, baby.' And then he lowered his mouth to her, licking and sucking her clit into his mouth. Hermione's grip tightened on the ropes until her knuckles went white and she naturally lifted her legs to drape them over his shoulders in order to give him better access.

He was relentless with his mouth and Hermione thought it couldn't get better. That was until he pushed a finger into her and crooked it. 'Gods, baby, you're so tight. I can barely get my second finger in.' But he did and Hermione wanted more.

Hermione was panting as he grazed his teeth over her nub and gently pumped his fingers into her. She was close, just a bit more, it wouldn't take much. Suddenly she felt his fingers hit that perfect spot inside of her, and she began to shudder around his fingers. It felt like it wouldn't end and she could hear herself screaming but it was dim in her ears.

When she finally came down, he felt Charlie place a tender kiss on her and stand up. Hermione felt limp and when she looked at him, he was busy pushing down his own jeans and stepping out of them and she couldn't look away.

He was magnificent. Long and thick, and licking her lips, she wanted so badly to taste him.

Charlie seemed to read her mind. 'Not this time, sweetheart. I need to be inside of you. Stand up.'

He helped her up, seeming to realise her legs wouldn't hold her. He picked her up by the back of her thighs and told her to wrap her legs around him and hold on, which she did.

Charlie then turned around and sat down on the swing. It was strong enough to hold both of them and he steadied them with a hand on each rope. 'Put me in you, baby.'

He had spread his legs to stabilise them both and all she needed to do was lift her body over his and reach behind her to guide him to her. The thick head of his cock was resting at her entrance and she had to wriggle a little to guide it in her. She really was tight and it only hurt a little as she sank on to him slowly.

Charlie moaned and she looked down into his face. 'You feel incredible.' She said softly, and heard him chuckle, the vibration going through her body and going straight to her clit.

Hermione was about half way down and Charlie let her go at her own pace, but he was gritting his teeth with the effort not to just slam her down onto him. A few moments later and he was fully in her, her clit was resting on his pubic bone and it was still so sensitive.

Charlie leaned up to kiss her for a moment before pulling back. 'Hold on tight to me.'

She wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders, cheekily licking his earlobe and making him groan.

He then tightened his grip on the ropes and pushed off.

Hermione had never felt anything like it. She was coming on the first swoop and the next swoops only took her higher. His cock felt weightless inside of her but it was rubbing her front walls with every back motion and her clit was rubbing against his pubic bone on every forward motion.

Hermione felt like she hadn't stopped coming since the swing had taken over and the rush of wind through her ears and her own moans were the only thing she could hear. That was until she heard a grunt in her ear and felt Charlie begin to come inside of her. The motion of the swing and her pulsing inner muscles milking him must have been too much.

After awhile Hermione felt them slow down and then stop. She weakly brought her head up to look at him, and found his eyes closed and his chest moving rapidly. He seemed to feel her eyes on him and he gave her a lazy grin when he opened his. He finally let go of the ropes and wrapped his arms around her, reaching up with his face and kissing her deeply.

They were well into it, when they heard a woosh and felt something land on them. It startled Charlie and they both felt themselves falling back. Hermione landed on Charlie and when she looked up at him again, he had a bemused look on his face. 'Are you alright, Charlie?'

'What the fuck was that?'

Hermione looked around and found a barn owl staring at them very disapprovingly. He ruffled his feathers and stuck out his foot. She untied the letter and quickly opened it, still sprawled on Charlie's chest.

'It's from Molly. She says both mother and baby are healthy. They should be home within the next hour.' She looked up from the parchment and smiled down at Charlie. 'You're an uncle. Congratulation.'

He smiled back at her, stroking a hand down her back and resting on her bum. 'When will we have little monsters running around?'

Hermione grinned, 'We've already discussed this, Mr Weasley. Not for a while yet.' She stroked his face. 'I'm glad you're home, our bed is cold without you. Don't go away so long again.' It had been months.

'I know and I won't, and I missed you too.' He brought her face down to his and showed her just how much. He started slipping his fingers between her legs again, when she stopped him and pulled away.

'We can't.' She said pushing at his chest.

He pouted and Hermione laughed at him. 'Why not?'

'That damn owl is staring at us.'

Charlie rolled over, laughing deeply. He cuddled her closer before helping her up and finding their clothes.

'Next year.' Hermione told him softly.

Charlie raised his eyebrows, his shirt lying in his hands. 'What?'

'We'll have little monsters next year.'

Charlie grinned and scooped her close again. 'To hell with the owl.'

~Fin~

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