Beyond Shuntbumps (PG-13; George/Hermione, Arthur/Molly; 555 words): George and Hermione start playing the game in earnest, much to everyone's satisfaction. (Follows An End to Swivenhodge, which can be found at DW, IJ, and LJ.)
"Now then," George said to Hermione, when she returned to the kitchen after settling Rose and Hugo for the night, "in Wizarding Games: A Guide, we're told that Shuntbumps 'survives only as a children's game'."
"But if we're to take it up," George continued, taking her hands, "I think we might alter the rules a bit."
"Well, the point of Shuntbumps is to knock one's opponent off his or her broom, and I know you don't like to ride . . . brooms." He winked.
"George," Hermione said, grinning and ducking her head.
He nuzzled her chin with his cheek, urging her to raise it again, and then gave her a chaste kiss. "I'm not wrong, am I?"
"No," Hermione murmured against George's mouth, "you're not. I don't like heights."
"And I don't want to push you," he replied, leading her into the back garden, "so I propose the following rules," he said, as he helped her to a chair at the table before sitting down next to her. "Rule the First: no brooms."
"Agreed," said Hermione.
"Rule the Second: only two players."
Hermione took his hands and squeezed. "Good."
"Rule the Third: the lady initiates all play, and the gentleman follows."
"That hardly seems fair to you, George."
"Well, I did promise not to push you, and I follow up nicely."
Hermione leaned over the table and kissed him; George groaned and squeezed her hands, hard. "Well?" she asked, breaking their embrace, "how would you like to follow that?"
George bit his lip. "Damn," he said, "I hate rules."
"Rule the Fourth," Hermione replied, "The gentleman may follow up with his bludger."
"After the appropriate application," Hermione said, leaning forward to rub her nose against his, "of his tongue, of course."
"I like that rule," said George, standing abruptly and throwing Hermione over his shoulder.
"George!" she exclaimed, laughing. "Where are you taking me?"
"To the orchard. It's far enough from the house that we won't have to worry about setting an Imperturbable."
"Molly, wake up!" Arthur said urgently.
"George and Hermione!"
"Oh, dear. Oh, wonderful!" she said, scrambling up out of Arthur's arms and gathering bits of their discarded clothing. She grabbed Arthur's hand and Disapparated them directed to their bedroom, turning to see him sigh. "Aren't you happy that they're finally getting on with it?"
"Well, of course, but . . . the orchard was our place."
Molly chuckled. "We do have a bed, you know."
"You don't say?" Arthur replied, taking her into his arms. "I thought beds were just for sleeping in."
"Oh, you!" Molly playfully slapped at his chest. "We can sleep when we're old."
"I will never be too old to wield my bludger, Mollywobbles."
When Hermione awoke the next morning, naked and wrapped in George's arms and the lingering warming charm she'd cast over them after their "game," it was to discover a pair of panties hanging in a tree branch overhead. She giggled.
"What is it?" asked George, following her gaze. "Oh, really, Mum. I did not need to see those."
"Well, I think we probably did chase them from their spot," Hermione said, snuggling more tightly against him.
George snorted. "I think it was a good night for Team Weasley."
"Rule the Fifth," declared Hermione, "every night should be a good night for Team Weasley!"