Ronarry One Shots

Ron's Fun

Summary: Ron and Harry have Grimmauld Place to themselves for the rest of the summer, and Ron decides he'll take advantage of the seclusion to shrink Harry down to eight inches tall and use him as he likes.

Ships: RonWeasleyxHarryPotter

All credit goes to deviousdeliciousness on Ao3

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Ron blinked rapidly, mouth gaping at the sight before him in complete and utter shock.

Sure, he'd been trying - hoping - to succeed, but he somehow hadn't expected his plan to actually work.

"Ron?" Harry called up towards him, voice faint to the point of hardly being audible. "What happened?" he questioned, tone slightly panicked but mostly befuddled as he gestured at himself.

Of course, Harry didn't need to elaborate any further because it was quite clear what he was referencing to: the fact that he now stood at a diminutive eight inches tall.

Ron felt his cock twitch in his briefs, and he had to take a second to formulate words in response. The two of them were currently the only ones in Grimmauld Place. Since Sirius's passing, the rest of the Order felt it would be disrespectful to continue using the place as their base of operations, and it was now technically owned by Harry since Sirius had listed him as the inheritor in his will. Summer break had just begun a couple of weeks prior, and although Harry had had to stay with the Dursleys for that time to replenish the wards, he was given permission to reside on his own in Grimmauld for the remainder of the summer. Hermione was off with her parents on a vacation to France and would be for the rest of break, so Harry had just invited Ron to stay over indefinitely.

How that led to the current situation... well.

No point in delving too deeply into that. Simply put, Ron had seen an opportunity, and he figured he'd use it to bring one of his long-time fantasies to life.

Because Harry being shrunken down to a mere eight inches tall certainly was no accident, no matter how clearly the latter currently believed it to be so.

"Seems like you're in a bit of a pickle there, mate," Ron glibly responded to Harry's question, reaching a hand out and wrapping his fist around Harry's bare torso despite the smaller's protesting yelp. He easily lifted Harry up out of his sagging clothes, which had not shrunken along with him, and snickered as Harry squirmed angrily in his hold.

"Ron! Put me down!" Harry commanded, smacking at Ron's fist with his face a bright red. Whether it was colored so because of his anger or his embarrassment was difficult to discern.

Ron let out a contemplative hum, then snickered. "Don't think I will," he replied brightly, instead beginning to walk towards his and Harry's shared bedroom.

Harry continued to yell at him and wriggle away, but it was fruitless, really. He was only slightly taller than Ron's palm was long, and, encased in Ron's fist as he was, he was only free above his chest and below his knees.

"Calm down, mate," Ron said absently, swinging open the door and shutting it behind him, quickly marching towards his bed. He could tell his prick was already past a half chub, and he was growing impatient.