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Midnight

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Midnight

For two hours I tossed and turned, restless and wired, thinking about anything and everything that could go wrong with this mad plan to get Harry. Regardless of the danger involved I had jumped at the chance to help protect my best friend. We both did, Ron and I. There was no doubt that Ron would, of course. Ron was always more than prepared to die for Harry and his family; this thought scared me more than anything. I couldn’t even imagine…

I closed my eyes and played over in my mind our last conversation, when we said our goodnights on the landing outside of Ginny’s room only two hours prior. He had given me a hug, his arms wrapped tight around my shoulders, and his chin had briefly set itself atop my head, a gesture he had never done while hugging me before. It was over much too quickly and he pulled away, his hands squeezing my shoulders once before dropping his hands to his sides. As we reassured each other that Harry would be there with us the next day, safe and sound, he looked distracted and nervous, almost as if he wanted to tell me something but didn’t know how.

Ron turned to go upstairs to his bedroom, but when looked back at me his expression was serious and his eyes moved over my entire body. I felt chills run down my spine when he finally looked into my eyes and gave me one last nod and a smile. I was speechless. I felt as if I was suddenly standing in front of him starkers, exposed in the way he was staring at me.

And although the thought of him made my insides heat up with undeniable pleasure I wanted nothing more than to smack Ron upside his head for doing this to me. How dare he look at me that way? And then not do anything about it? Leaving me to assume and hope things that may or may not be true. I’ve doubted myself and him and every feeling I’ve had since second year. It wasn’t fair! Was he suffering as much as I was or did this amuse him? How was it that he made me so incredibly hot and bothered, while he remained cool and unaffected? But, wait. He wasn’t exactly cool, was he? Everything he’d done and said, it had to be for a reason… Teasing me, flirting and… touching me for days. He had been saying such sweet things, agreeing with my mad ideas on finding Horcruxes, and offering to help me… study. Very unlike Ron, isn’t it?

So then he must know how I feel. Perhaps that was why he was behaving so audaciously, but at the same time watching me always waiting to see how I would react to things…

Did he expect me to do something about… this? Whatever this was…

I had to find out, or else I would get no sleep at all.

I threw back my covers and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I didn’t even bother with a dressing gown or my slippers as I crossed the small room and ducked into the hallway. The house was always so full of life, so bright and cheerful during the day. But at midnight, with everyone closed up in their rooms fast asleep, it was just an old house that creaked and groaned at the slightest hint of a breeze. With that thought in mind I knew I wouldn’t have to worry about making any noise as I climbed the final set of stairs that led straight to Ron’s bedroom door.

I was incensed, raging inside my head about all he was trying to do to me, playing with my feelings that way. I have had complete control of those mad hormones I knew was a result of puberty for years now, but was finding it incredibly difficult to manage while being around him, or even thinking about him, apparently. As I stood in front of his door, my ear flush against the wood, listening for signs of sleep from the other side, I felt my hormones laughing at me, as if they knew I never really had control to begin with. My stomach flipped over and my heart was beating right out of my chest as I stood there, gathering my courage and trying to hold onto the anger that led me there in the first place. But I had no idea what I was going to say to him and my reasoning was quickly broken down by so much longing and unresolved tension that my hands were starting to shake against the metal knob.

“Damn it,” I whispered to myself. I was about to release the doorknob when the door suddenly opened so quickly and with such force that I was yanked into Ron’s room, my socked feet slipping on the wooden floors. I made a yelping sound and felt Ron’s arm go across my lower back as he pulled me up to my feet.

“Whoa,” he said, shocked to find me attached to his door. I clung to him, my fingers digging into hard, but soft skin and I noticed that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Oh, god. How I hate him sometimes. “I thought you were Fred or George trying to play a prank on me or something.”

His face was close to mine because he hadn’t let go, and his arm was still wrapped around my waist in an unnecessary attempt to keep me upright. Or maybe the support was needed as I used my other hand to hold onto his shoulder, sliding down his arm as I pushed myself up the rest of the way. My knees were weak and my head cloudy from our proximity and the connection of my hands on the skin of his arm and shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asked anxiously, his eyes darting around my face and body. “Did something happen? Is someone hurt? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine,” I said as he started feeling my face and arms with his large, strong hands. It was too much, the sensations going through me at that moment. I tried not to gasp as I extricated myself from his arms, and then quickly walked the rest of the way into his room, and away from his clean and manly scent that was making my brain all mushy. Mushy? Oh, dear, I thought, I’m losing my vocabulary.

“Okay, good. So then… what are you doing here, Hermione? It’s… bloody hell, it’s midnight!”

“I’m aware of the time, Ron,” I answered hotly and rolled my eyes. “I couldn’t sleep.” That was the reason, was it not? I could still feel his warm skin and then his smell, and it all seemed to have wiped my memory.

“Yeah, same here,” he said with a nod. “I keep thinking about tomorrow.”

“It’s going to be extremely dangerous,” I agree, nodding along with him as I hug myself around the middle, trying desperately not to think too hard about the fact that I am with Ron, alone in his bedroom, at midnight. Oh, Merlin, help me.

“Not only that, but what about when Harry gets here? And we have to leave to find these Horcruxes?” Ron started pacing and although our conversation was serious my traitorous mind couldn’t help notice the way his bicep flexed when he raised his hand to scratch his chin and the ginger hairs around his navel…

“We’re nowhere near ready, are we?”

I realized he was staring, waiting for an answer to a question that I hadn’t realized he asked, and I shook my head to clear it. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked and came closer, peering into my face. “You look a bit peaky.”

“I’m fine!” I say a bit too loudly, making Ron flinch and back away from me. “Sorry, I’m just restless and worried is all.”

“S’alright. We’re all tense, yeah?” Ron said as he picked up a red and brown striped t-shirt from a pile of clothes on the floor and pulled it on. I stifled a groan, mourning the loss of his bare torso… and I briefly wondered just how much control I could possibly have left. He walked to the door and listened before shaking his head to let me know everyone was still asleep. Thank goodness.

“Don’t want to wake anyone,” Ron muttered as he closed the door. The air suddenly felt thicker and hotter, and I just knew it wasn’t all in my head, which both enthralled and petrified me at the same time.

Without the candlelight from the hallway illuminating the room I could barely make him out, but I could see his outline coming closer. I backed up only for his desk to stop me from going further. I huffed and he chuckled as he touched his left hand to my right elbow. Then he leaned in closer, and I could smell him again. I trembled as his chest slid against mine and I remembered that I wasn’t wearing a bra, having left without my dressing gown.

His eyebrow twitched just slightly and his throat made a sound as he swallowed thickly before looking up from my chest to my face. I felt a generous amount of smugness at the thought of making him feel even a tiny amount of what he’s put me through. Then he looked down at my lips; I bit back a moan and closed my eyes, my heart skipping...

Then he said quietly, his voice close to my ear, “I’m just gonna…”

I felt the pressure of his tall frame on mine, making me lean back, my bum pushing his desk chair into the desk, making a low grinding noise as it moved across the wood...

“Wh- What are you doing?” I stuttered and cleared my throat, fighting for every breath to remain collected and unfazed. He blinked down at me and, with the lack of distance between us I could feel his heart beat climbing.

“I’m getting my wand,” he said as if it was obvious, but his heart and the hitch in his voice gave him away. He was as nervous as I was, but seemed to have worked something out in his head that was fueling him in initiating this contact between us. Ron searched for his wand with his right hand while his left hand steadied himself on the back of the chair to my right, his thumb resting against my hip. He had effectively boxed me in and I didn’t dare move an inch, waiting to see what he would do next.

 I knew that something positively monumental was about to happen, even if I had to make it happen myself.

He retrieved his wand and stepped back, but only enough so that I no longer felt his body, but still felt his breath on my forehead, and then on my lashes when I tilted my head back to look up at him. He muttered a silencing and locking spells at the door before lighting the room with his wand. In this new light I saw him staring at my face, studying my reaction. Something clicked in my brain and I remembered why I came upstairs.

“Why do you keep doing that?” I asked, my curiosity taking over.

His gaze stuttered and he blinked as if waking up, then looked sideways, guiltily if I wasn’t mistaken, especially when he started to rub his hand over the side of his neck.

“Doing what? I’m not doing anything,” Ron said and then shrugged as if I was making things up. He took another step back and I could finally breathe, albeit not quite as normally as I would have had he not been standing a foot away from me.

I wanted to scold him for lying because he had to know what he was doing to me. It had to be on purpose, all those long stares and unnecessary touches and just then… with his body all but crushing mine. How could he stand there and deny everything? I opened my mouth to speak, but then promptly closed it. Perhaps he didn’t mean anything by it. Perhaps we were only getting closer as friends and I was misinterpreting everything in an attempt to see something there that really wasn’t? And I was just about to spill everything, and risk it all: my feelings, our friendship, my sanity. And all to accuse him of flirting with me? He would think I went mental. And if I was right, if he did have feelings for me and was trying to send me some kind of message through his actions… well, I couldn’t very well go on just that, could I? I needed more evidence, proof, that he felt the same. I needed to hear it.

But then maybe he needed the same from me? Goodness, this was all so confusing…

“Oh, nevermind,” I said and pushed myself off of the desk and made for the door before my face got any redder. But I was stopped by Ron’s hand on my wrist, and I could have choked on the breath that got stuck in my throat.

“Wait,” he said and pulled me back toward the middle of the room. “I thought you couldn’t sleep.”

I turned around to face him and almost wish I hadn’t. He looked so gorgeous with the light behind him, casting shadows across his face, his long nose even more pronounced and his eyes darker than usual. And the way he was looking at me with so much concern and anticipation made my heart speed up again.

“I’ll just lay down and I’ll fall asleep eventually,” I said. “Good night, Ron.” I turned to leave and once again he pulled me back, this time looking desperate and pleading.

“Well, I can’t,” Ron said. “Please just stay and we’ll talk or something. It’ll keep both of us from worrying about tomorrow and then we can get some rest.”

Or something, I repeated his words in my head and bit down on my lip. I glanced over his shoulder and took in his room. Mrs. Weasley hadn’t yet set up the cot for Harry so there was only one bed…

“What if I fall asleep while we’re… talking?”

“What about it?”

“Are you… sure?”

He hesitated, his eyes rounded, and I thought he had finally realized what he was asking: for me to stay with him, in his room, overnight… in his bed, most likely.

“I can sleep on the floor. You can have my bed,” he said and smirked, looking relieved to have come up with a solution to keep me there. As if I really needed much convincing?

“I could never let you sleep on the floor, Ron. That’s barbaric. Besides, it’s your room.”

“Come on,” he said and rolled his eyes. “I don’t mind. I’m just so fucking bored up here by myself.”

“Alright fine,” I said, trying my best to act reluctant even though I was screaming inside.

“Brilliant!”

Then I was being pulled toward his bed where we sat facing each other. He was sitting with his back against the headboard and his legs spread out in front of him. I was at the foot of the bed, leaning with my side against the wall, with my legs tucked underneath me. And true to his word we talked… and talked about everything we could think of except for the mission the next day, Horcruxes or Voldemort. We traded stories about our dorm mates and Hogwarts professors. He told me about his very large extended family in which his Aunt Muriel did come out looking well at all. And he was very interested in my muggle life before I knew about anything magical. He was so funny and more relaxed than I’d ever seen him. And he also had this effect on me, as he always does, to make me feel at ease, which is sort of funny because he is also the only one who could make me feel the most uncomfortable and on edge that I’d ever felt in my life.

As we spoke I moved to sit next to him, my knees touching his leg and when he made me laugh, which was often, he shushed me by putting his finger to my lips. I would push his hand away and smack his shoulder when he was rude. It was both exhilarating and exhausting, and I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so… happy.

Ron was the first one to start yawning, and I should have told him to set himself up on the floor like he said he would, but I couldn’t do it. I meant what I said and I didn’t want him sleeping on the floor like an animal or something. Not even an animal deserves that kind of treatment. And I suppose I could have left when I saw his eyes blinking more slowly and his smile looking more lazy with every passing minute. But I didn’t. Instead I kept talking right through my own yawns and settled down next to him, using his pillow and almost drowning in the scent of his hair that was embedded in it.

I was on my side on top of his blankets, nearly dozing off when he spoke from his slumped position next to me, stifling another yawn. “I think we’re both knackered enough to go to bed now, yeah?”

I lifted my head quickly when I felt him start to move, and I panicked, not wanting him to go, not now that I was so close to something as real and physical as sleeping with him.

“No, don’t!” I hissed and reached to stop him, my hand closing around his wrist this time, and I pulled him back. I was so tired and a bit delirious, so I blamed my rash actions on those facts alone. “Stay here and sleep with me. Please.” Now I was the one pleading.

He no longer looked sleepy as he stared at me, his mouth open slightly; enough to tell me that I might have went too far, too soon. I was about to say so when he nodded.

“Er… yeah, okay,” he said and then stood up to lift the covers. “Move up a bit.”

I turned to my back and lifted my pajama covered legs to my chest so that he could shake the covers from underneath me and then over me. And then he was with me, under the covers, and next thing I knew he had whispered, “Nox,” and it was dark enough that it took about a minute for my eyes to adjust. And in that minute we both laid on our back, only our shoulders and knees touching. It was so silent I could hear both of us breathing, and I knew he was still awake.

“Are you awake?” I asked stupidly.

“No,” he whispered back, making both of us laugh and successfully easing a bit of tension.

I felt him move and we were no longer touching, but he was there and still close since there really wasn’t a lot of room on his narrow bed. I remained on my back and let out a sigh, unable to keep it in any longer. The tension still hadn’t left me and I assumed Ron was already falling asleep until he spoke again.

“What’s the matter?” His breath tickled my ear and I realized that even though we weren’t touching, he was even closer having turned on his side to face me. I shivered and let out a soft laugh.

“Nothing’s the matter,” I said and shrugged even though I knew he could barely see me. “This is just odd, isn’t it? I mean, we’ve never done this before.”

Ron laughed under his breath and I felt it again on my ear. “I dunno. I thought it’d be, but it’s not. Kind of normal, really.”

“You think this is normal?” I asked and lifted myself onto my elbow to look down at him.  “Me here, in your bed, right now?”

“Well, yeah,” he said and yawned as he raised himself to look at me. I was grateful that it was no longer too dark not to see him, but dark enough for him not to notice how read my face was. “We’re best friends, Hermione. This shouldn’t feel weird, you know?”

And he was studying me again, squinting to see my reaction. I wasn’t sure what he was hoping to find, but I didn’t really care because with just that one statement, reminding me that we were “best friends”, although true, broke my heart. I could no longer look at him, scared that I would start to cry and then he would wonder why and I’d have to tell him the truth, that I didn’t want to be his best friend, not anymore.

“Oh, yeah, right, of course we are… friends,” I said and laid back down. “The best,” I finish with what I know is a hint of bitterness. I could feel him staring at me so I yawned and turned away to face the wall. “Good night, Ron,” I said and shut my eyes tight, willing myself not to let any tears escape because then that would mean my nose would run and I would have to sniff, and I couldn’t have that.

Ron didn’t move for several seconds, but I could feel him looking at the back of my head. Then he plopped down onto the bed and let out a frustrated sigh.

“Hermione?”

“Yes?” I held my breath.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No… why?” Stupid question, I thought to myself.

“Okay… because you are, you know… my best friend. And Harry, of course.”

“Yes, of course,” I said quietly. “Just like Harry.” I was working to keep my voice even, and struggling to remain calm even though the mention of me being his damn friend once again made me want to vomit.

“Nah, not the same at all,” Ron said with a snort then shifted again, and his knee brushed my bum, making me gasp. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s alright,” I said and flipped to my other side to look at him, resting my hand under my cheek on his pillow. “What do you mean, not the same?”

“It just… isn’t.”

Ron had his hands clasped behind his head and when he looked at me and smiled I couldn’t help but smile back because he was right in a way, this was starting to feel more natural, lying next to him in bed and talking. My stomach was in knots, but this was Ron, my Ron, I had to remind myself.

“That’s so insightful, Ron,” I said sarcastically.

“Bugger, I dunno,” he said and turned his body towards me.

And we were finally face to face. I could see the blue in his eyes and feel his breath coming out of his open mouth blowing on my nose. My hand was curled up into my chest, leaning against his so I could feel his heart beating just as quickly as mine… and I didn’t want to talk anymore. I was tired of talking. I had to take everything that he had said, no matter how confusing, and his actions that, if I were honest, spoke much louder, and use my gut, which was telling me that something was indeed happening between us. How could I deny this? There was nothing rational explanation about how I knew, and certainly not enough to warrant what I was about to do, but I had to do it. We could die tomorrow and then what? I would never have known what it felt like, what he felt like, in that way.

“Hermione-“

“Shhh. Shut up.”

With a new resolve and a beating drum for a heart, I pressed my finger on his lips like he did to me earlier, and then slid it across to the corner of his mouth, my eyes following after it. My hand was hot from his breath and I could feel the wetness from the inside of his bottom lip as I dragged it across to the other side. I was mesmerized by how soft and full his mouth was, imagining what it would feel like to have his saliva mixed with mine. Then he closed his mouth to swallow and my finger was caught. I held my breath and then his tongue flicked across my fingertip, making me gasp. I snatched it back out, startled by what just happened.

“Bloody hell,” Ron said, panting, and he moved even closer. Our knees knocked and forearms pressed together as he brought his hand up to the side of my face. “Definitely not the same as Harry.”

I laughed because it was such an absurd thing to say at that moment, but meant so much because I finally knew for sure that he felt at least a portion of what I felt for him, and for me that was more than enough. A weight was lifted off my chest and shoulders. I felt so racked with emotions that I had to choke back a sob, but this time for a much better reason.

“You’re my best friend, too, but certainly not like Harry. Not at all,” I replied and smiled when he closed his eyes and grinned, looking so happy and relieved. “Did I say something right?” I asked and then giggled when he snorted again.

“You’re always right,” Ron said and rubbed his thumb hard into my cheek before he slid his hand to wrap around the back of my neck. He pulled me forward until our foreheads touched and I had to close my eyes in order to take a deep shuddering breath, to stay coherent enough to remain in that moment..

I grabbed the front of his shirt in my fists and arched my back so that our stomachs lined up and our legs intertwined. I had never been that close to Ron, or anyone in fact, and it was doing my head in, making it spin in so many directions. I was literally in his hands at that point.

“Can we please… stop talking?” I said breathlessly.

For once he listened to me and instead of hearing another word I felt his lips brush against mine. I whimpered because it was so soft and sweet, and when he pulled away we looked at each other, knowing that the line we both tried so hard to keep in our sights had just been crossed. There was no going back and I couldn’t find one legitimate reason why I would want to. Although it was only a chaste kiss, we were both still breathing hard. He cocked his head slightly as if asking me if that was okay and I nodded right away. I felt giddy and ecstatic, and sleep was no longer even an option. I wanted – no, I needed – to kiss him again… Oh honestly, I would freely admit that right then I wanted so much more than that.

I used my hands that were still clenched in his shirt to pull him to me, and then I crushed my lips to his before he had a chance to react. And finally I felt what it was like to be kissed by Ron Weasley, the only boy I ever wanted to kiss me; the only one that ever counted.

He swore under his breath and brought his other hand to the other side of my neck as I moved over him, crushing my breasts to his chest. He said my name, moaned it to be more specific, and the sound sent chills all the way down to my toes. I said his name and for the first time I felt his tongue inside my mouth. It might sound completely mad, but it fit perfectly; the way he moved it around, swirling and licking my teeth… it was incredible.

Eventually I had to come up for air; I wasn’t as experienced at this as Ron and had yet to exercise proper breath control in this type of… situation. I grinned happily when I thought about all the practice I going to get, and was eager to find out how much more Ron could teach me. I looked down at him from above and he pushed my hair back behind my ears, holding my head in hands firmly, but gentle. His eyes were searching my face, and he looked so serious that my smiled faltered.

“What is it?” I asked worriedly. He sighed and I paused to take him in. “The way you keep looking at me… what are you looking for?”

“It hasn’t been easy, trying to figure you out,” he said. I almost snorted in his face at that remark. Him trying to figure me out? I mean, what have I been going through these past few years? I wanted to give him a piece of my mind, but I also wanted to forget all of that stuff and finally do something!

“Girls are barmy from the start, but you… you’re you, you know?” I nodded slowly, impatient to get this conversation over with as I watched his mouth move as he talked, wishing he would stop so I could kiss him again. “So I read in this book that I should do and say certain things in order to find out how -”

“You read it in a book?” I asked incredulously and held my hand to my mouth, giggling.

“Oi! Don’t take the mickey,” he said, looking thoroughly sheepish. He pinched my side and said, “What was I supposed to do?”

“You could have asked me straight out.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

I hesitated. “Fair point,” I said and then smirked at him, unable to hide my curiosity. “So what kind of book was this? A how-to on torturing the one you love into submission?”

His eyes rounded and he just stared at me, and I realized I had just said the “L” word, and so casually as well.

“Ron, do you… love me?”

I took a giant leap of faith asking that question. I would blame it on the surplus of endorphins and the rise in temperature, particularly around the bed that we were currently sharing, with my body spread over top of his, his hands now on the skin of my back and my hips, clenching when I mentioned the word “love” for the second time in the space of one minute. But I really, really, needed to know.

He blinked up at me, shocked and I told myself to wait it out, to give him chance to regroup before I assumed the worst. But I was impatient that night and I couldn’t seem to control the words that came out of my mouth.

“I love you, Ron,” I said and sucked in a deep breath, then held it, not dating to blink as I fisted his shirt at the shoulders.

“Holy shit, you do?”

I nodded and his face lit up so brilliantly that I didn’t need light to see how thrilled he was. His reaction to my confession said everything, but I still needed to hear it before we went any further. And I wasn’t even shocked to realize that I did actually want to go further, very much so.

Instead Ron suddenly pulled me so that I was now straddling his waist, my legs on either side of his hips. One of his arms came up under my shirt on my back and pushed me down until our lips met again. And he kissed me with so much passion and obvious love that I felt tears falling from my eyes onto his cheeks before realizing I was even crying. His other arm wrapped tightly around my waist, then he lifted his hips up into mine. I gasped loudly and he made a low groaning sound that shook into me so violently that I was literally shaking on top of him.

“Oh, god, I’m shaking,” I said he broke away from our kiss, but then gasped again when he titled my head to the side with nose to my chin and started to lick and suck on my neck. Ron kept my trembling body close to his as something animalistic took over him. With his mouth still latched onto my neck he suddenly flipped us over so that my back was against the mattress and my head dented his pillow. I yanked it out from under my head and threw it onto the floor, arching my back to meet him in the middle as his hands slid up my sides, taking my shirt with them. I could feel his hardness against my inner thigh. He was aroused and it was because of me. That knowledge gave me a surge of power and I felt like I could do anything.

“I fucking love you, Hermione,” Ron practically growled and then nipped the skin under my ear, making me cry out. I raked my nails down his arms to his hands that were rubbing my belly and ribs. “I thought you knew, that you could tell, but didn’t, that you could never…”

His voice was hoarse and I figured it was from all the kissing so when I grabbed his face in my hands and forced him to look at me I was shocked to see that he was crying.

“Oh, Ron…” My lip quivered and the words I wanted to say to him couldn’t make it through the lump in my throat. Not after seeing how red and wet his eyes were, and all the feelings he had for me were unmasked and written across his whole face. “Do you… that much?” I managed to choke out.

A tear fell from his eye before he closed them and buried his head into my neck, wetting my skin with his tears, but making no sound. He nodded as both his arms wrapped around my middle, his hands trapped between my back and his bed. It was overwhelming, to say the least, as I had no idea just how much he felt for me. I knew what I felt for him, but to see and feel him like this, broken down with emotion, set me off and I cried openly with so much joy and relief. We clung to each other; my legs around his waist, and my hands on his lower back pulled him as close as I could as we cried softly together.

I kissed his ear and then his shoulder, any where that I could reach until I felt him doing the same. Slowly we made our way back to each other’s lips and we kissed deeply and deliberately. Our hands started roaming again and I groaned, biting his lip, when the palm of his hand, so warm and large, covered my bare breast. He squeezed experimentally and I nodded, not wanting to break contact with his lips again unless absolutely necessary. So he continued to squeeze and then roll my nipple between his fingers. I bucked my hips and he pushed down, going harder with every one of my whimpers and moans. The thin material of our pajamas left little to the imagination, and also very little interference; I could feel all of him, hard and long pressing into me so deliciously that I had to work to concentrate on both what was happening with our mouths as well as our lower bodies.

“Should we… stop?” Ron muttered, contradicting his statement by driving his tongue into my mouth and then moving his other hand to my left breast. My hands crawled underneath his shirt and scratched his back, making his push into me even harder.

“I don’t want you to,” I said and kissed him back. I felt myself lose even more control and not minding at all, not while I was with Ron. He made me feel safe, and I knew he would take care of me. I didn’t have to see reason, not now when nothing and yet everything made sense all at once.

“Fucking hell, you’re serious,” he breathed out and his face split into a wide grin.

“Only if you are,” I said and congratulated myself at giving it back to him, the flirting and bantering all coming naturally even while in such a state.

“Wicked.”

Then he was off of me like lightning, kneeling over me and peeling his shirt off. I covered my face and laughed because I was no incredibly nervous, yet happy, and it felt so strange to be doing something like this, at a time like this…

I heard him laugh at me and when he moved again I figured he was taking off something else. I didn’t want him to get ahead of me so I sat up and noticed him sitting at the other end of the bed in only his underpants, staring at me anxiously, his hands fisted on the bed on either side of him. I grabbed the bottom of my shirt and ripped it off quickly, throwing it to floor. His eyes snapped to my breasts that were until then hiding under my shirt and under his hands. I laid back down on my back and lifted my bum to remove my bottoms. I hesitated as he started to come forward and at the last second I shimmied out of my knickers as well.

Ron froze over me and peered down at my body, trying to see all that he could in that dark room. I grabbed at his sheets, balling them into my fists as I saw his hand reach out to lay on my belly. I sucked in a breath and held it as he moved in closer between my legs, parting them. I heard him gulp as he looked down between my legs and I fought the urge to clamp them shut.

“Ron,” I whispered, my body trembling again. I jumped when he placed his other hand on my hip and dug his thumb in near my pelvis. “Oh, Ron,” I said and started panting from the anticipation and nerves.

“You’re beautiful,” he said awestruck. “And soft, and so… small.”

“Small?” My hand came up to feel my breasts and he shook his head.

“No, I mean, all of you is so small, compared to me with my giant hands and feet.” He pushed my hand away from my chest. “You’re perfect.”

I took my shaking hands to his chest and let my fingertips trace around his nipples and stomach until I reached the edge of his pants and a felt strands of hair, making him laugh huskily, his flat, toned stomach shaking.

“I love how tall you are, big hands, feet and all,” I said.

Both of Ron’s hands were at my hips and he was circling his thumbs, flicking them over the edge of my pubic hair. I moaned and squirmed, trying to give him the message that it was okay to keep going. Finally his flattened one hand between my legs, and pressed the heel of his palm into me while his fingers curled into my short hairs.

I groaned and put my hand over his, pushing down in order to feel even more pressure.

“Oh, god!” I cried, then let his hand go when he turned his wrist and his fingers were now at my entrance, three of them rubbing up and down and I realized just how wet I had become.

“Holy fuck,” Ron muttered then shifted, his hand still in place. I had my eyes closed and when I felt one of his fingers enter me half my body rose in the air and then a second one entered and I cried out so loud that I was sure the silencing charm Ron set on the room wouldn’t be able to hold. He swore again under his breath as he moved over me, his fingers moving in and out slowly and making a slick wet sound that seemed to echo off of the walls.

“You’re so fucking wet, Hermione,” Ron said, his voice was closer and when I opened my eyes he was at my chest, his head was lowered and I witness him take my hard nipple into his mouth.

It was too much, the sensations going through me, sparks coming from more than one direction; his hand between my legs, the other kneading my breast while his lips closed over the other one.

“Do it, Ron! Now!” I pushed at his hand as I felt the pounding inside my pelvis become harder and faster the more he pumped his fingers. The jolts of electricity from him sucking on my breast only added to the pressure and I didn’t want to orgasm this way. Desperately I tried to regain some self control and communicate to Ron what I wanted.

However, that was unnecessary; Ron took one look at my face and licked his lips, suddenly very nervous as he knew that what I wanted was for him to be inside of me, for us to do this together.

“Okay,” he whispered and nodded to himself as he pulled his hands away from my body and propped himself sideways in order to push down his pants. “Holy… okay. Merlin fuck,” he muttered to himself as he worked the pants over his bum, then his erection and finally down to his ankles where he kicked them free.

My curiosity and my hand immediately when to hold his erection, feeling the weight of it. I slid my thumb over the tip, feeling the sticky wetness and slid back down, making him hiss. I looked up at Ron and he was staring at my hand with his mouth hanging open and leaning to one side to keep from falling over.

“You’re gorgeous, Ron. And so… big,” I said, because it was true and also because I had a feeling it would boost his confidence and ego. I was right because he grinned at me and shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal that he was so utterly striking.

I kept my hand over him as he grabbed his wand and said the necessary contraceptive charm, then leaned over and set his wand back on the table. He stayed like that over me and settled between my legs. I continued to stroke, enjoying the reaction I was getting from him.

“Hermione, if you don’t stop…”

“Oh, sorry,” I said and snatched my hand away. When I let go I felt it drop down between my legs. We hissed and looked at each other at the same time, both grinning. I could feel him pulsing against me and I knew he could feel the same coming from me. He held it there, pressing into my folds, and I couldn’t help but writhe and squirm as I smoothed my hands over his back and torso.

“We’re really going to do this,” I said, needing to hear it out loud. “We’re really going to make love, right now.”

“Is this okay? I could make it more romantic or something. I have some candles…”

I shook my head and thrust up against him with my hips. “Do it now, Ron. Please.”

And so without further hesitation he was inside me, and I almost lost my breath, trying to catch it as he opened me up, spreading me wide. It hurt, so much. I didn’t want him to know, but it was inevitable since he was already expecting it. And so he went slow, asking me if I was okay about ten more times until I finally smacked his chest and yelled at him to move already. I cringed through the initial pain, but I was so wet and we were both so hot and sweaty that it was enough for us to set a rhythm, our bodies sliding against one another. It was awkward at first as we both didn’t know exactly what we were doing, but it was beautiful and loving and I knew I made the right decision not to wait.

Ron kissed my cheeks and eyes and mouth rapidly and without concentration as he moved faster and harder. I gripped his shoulders and gasped with every pull, moaned with every kiss and cried out every time he thrust into me. I found I quite liked it when he went harder, so hard that the bed started to hit the wall in quick succession, only spurring us on even more.

Ron was panting and gasping and grunting so loud, and when I finally felt something burst inside me I knew it was him and I cried out when I felt my own orgasm hit me like a ton of bricks. Never before had I felt something like that in my life, not even by myself when I would try and satiate the hormones that insisted on making my life hell. But now those same hormones were let loose and I felt something that I instantly knew within the first strike from my center to my chest would change my life forever.

Ron dropped down on top of me, spent and gulping for breath, and I welcomed the weight of his tall, lanky body on top of mine, still inside of me. Then he rolled over onto his back and I followed him, curling up to his side because I couldn’t bear to lose contact with his skin after what we just shared.

“Blood hell, that was fantastic, yeah?” Ron gulped for more breath and chuckled. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and then stroked my arm that was across his chest. I squeezed his shoulder and laughed quietly, nodding my head.

“Yes, it was,” I said and kissed the side of his chest, tasting the saltiness of his sweat. He wrapped his other arm across my back and swept my hair off of my face and neck. “This is it then, isn’t it? We’re together now.”

“I reckon so, yeah,” he said. “Unless you were only using me for a shag.”

“And what if I was?”

“Nah, you wouldn’t,” he said with a yawn and shook his head.

“Would you?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant because I knew we were only joking, but a part of me was still a bit worried because he was a teenage boy and these things happened, didn’t they?

“Are you kidding? You would rip my bollocks off if I treated you that way. At least Harry would… and mum and dad…”

“Alright, I get it,” I said and hugged him tighter, smiling against his side.

After a few more minutes I cleaned us off suing his wand and collected our clothes from the floor so we could get dressed. The fact that I was even staying to sleep with him was enough without worrying that someone might come around while we were both still starkers, having to explain why it took so long to answer the locked and silenced door. But I still refused to leave or let him sleep on the floor so we slipped under his quilt and Ron held me from behind, his hand in mine at my chest and his knee between my legs. And we slept.

XXXXXX