Claim: The night after the Battle of Hogwarts. What takes place between Ron/Hermione?
Pairings (if any): Ron/Hermione
Summary: If they can't find comfort in each other, where can they find it?
Warnings (if applicable): some fluff, some smut, and some old-fashioned Weasley lovin'
Author's Note: First fic, other than a drabble - hope it doesn't stink like a dung bomb!
If Not Me, Then Who?
Hermione stepped through the entrance to Gryffindor Tower holding Ron’s hand tightly in her own. She let out a sigh of relief when she spotted their best friend sitting by the fireplace in front of a platter of sandwiches. Hermione had sent Harry off for a hot shower and the tranquility of the common room while she and Ron had returned to the Great Hall after their visit with Dumbledore’s portrait.
“Oi! You’ve arrived just in time, Kreacher brought up a pitcher of pumpkin juice and a platter of corned beef sandwiches. Tuck in!” Harry shouted to the couple from their favorite settee by the fireplace. Watching Ron’s face fall even further, Harry amended, “Only kidding, they’re ham.”
Ron slowly let go of Hermione’s hand as he sank into the armchair next to Harry. He gestured with a small nod of his head for Hermione to take the seat on the other side of Harry. Harry observed Hermione’s reluctance to distance herself from Ron, even the slightest bit, as if he would disappear if she were not touching him.
“Very funny Potter. Glad to see your sense of humor didn’t die with you out in the Forbidden Forest,” replied Ron wryly as he reached for a sandwich.
“Ron!” Hermione gasped.
With a chuckle, Harry held up his hand to stop his friend’s admonishment. “It’s okay Hermione, really. I need Ron to be himself if I’m ever going to get past all that’s happened.”
As he made to shove the rest of his sandwich into his mouth, Ron pointed out, “See Hermione, I’m helping him heal.” “Ugh” was her only reply as she took a dainty sip of her juice, though the small smile she sent Ron over the top of her glass was not lost to Harry.
“So, where is everybody? Your family, I mean” Harry questioned Ron.
“Well, Bill took Fleur and Mum back to Shell Cottage, along to several bottles of Dreamless Draught and . . .”“Ginny and Luna went too.” Hermione interrupted, knowing Harry’s concern for Ginny.
“Right. Dad went with Kingsley to the Ministry for a bit. I think they’re trying to get Luna’s dad released, along with as many others as they can. You know, in order to make room for those who deserve to be locked up.”
“Like Umbridge.” Hermione commented to herself quietly.
“Percy and Charlie are still down in the Great Hall, with George. He won’t leave Fred, he’s just sitting there . . ..” Ron’s voice trailed off as his grief renewed itself and he rubbed his hands over his face.
“And what about Neville, and the rest? The Gryffindors?” This time Harry addressed Hermione, allowing Ron time to collect himself.
“Obviously the younger students were evacuated. I don’t know if any Sixth Year stayed behind, other than Ginny and . . . Colin.” At the mention of the earnest young boy, Hermione’s voice caught. “Neville took his Gran home, it was all getting to be a bit too much for her. And for him too, he’s not used to so much attention. Dean and Seamus left as soon as they could for Dean’s family in London, I don’t know if they plan on coming back tonight. I think Parvati’s staying Padma over in Ravenclaw tonight, since Lavender’s still in the hospital wing.”
At the mention of his former girlfriend, Ron finally looked up. “That was amazing what you did, Hermione, basting Greyback off her like that.”
“It was no big deal. You would have done the same thing, even it was been Viktor Krum being attacked.”
Before Ron could respond, Harry snorted, “Not if he had heard what Viktor said at the wedding.”
“What? What did that ruddy pumpkin head say?” Ron yelled, showing the most emotion Harry had seen from him in quite a while.
“Nothing much really, he just asked me, well ‘Barney- me’ if you two were together.”
Hermione quickly asked Harry, “And what did you tell him?”
“I just said ‘sort of’.”
“See, I told you that git was still interested!”
“It doesn’t matter what Viktor’s ‘interests’ are, Ron. Only what, or rather whom, I am interested in matters.” Hermione explained calmly to Ron. “And I think I’ve made it perfectly clear where my interest lies.”
Ron’s ears turned a brilliant shade of Weasley red, as he muttered, “Yeah, I guess you have.”
“Besides,” Harry added hoping to further defuse the situation, “after that he asked about Ginny. When I told him she had a boyfriend, a large jealous boyfriend, he pouted that being an international Quidditch player didn’t matter if all the good-looking girls were taken.”
“Git!” Ron shouted. To which Hermione could only reply with a small nod of agreement and an indignant “Hmph.”
“On that note, I think I’ll head up to bed. Neville told me they kept our beds in the dorm, in case we returned.” As Harry started to stand, Hermione grasped his arm, “Wait, Madame Pomfrey wanted me to give you this.” She handed him a small potion vile, “It should help you sleep.” Hermione placed a chaste kiss on Harry’s check and bid him good night.
“Thanks Hermione, … for everything.” Harry responded awkwardly, as he turned to leave he added, “Oh wait, I left your bag upstairs when I showered, do you want me to bring it down?”
“No Harry, that’s fine. Ron can get it for me later. Just get yourself some sleep.” Harry nodded in response.
As he passed Ron’s chair, Harry placed a firm hand on his best mate’s shoulder, “I’m here for you, mate,” he said quietly. Ron reached up and patted Harry’s hand, a small “Thanks” was all he could manage to say.
Once Harry ascended the stairs to the Seventh Year boys’ dorm, Ron and Hermione were left alone. Ron sat gripping the arms of the chair with white knuckles. Hermione observed Ron silently, as he sat willing himself not to break down. He threw his head back in desperation, scrunching his eyes shut to hold the inevitable tears at bay.
Hermione watched the muscles of his jaw quake under the efforts of his restraint. She knew it was inappropriate but she couldn’t help herself, she longed to run her tongue over that strong jaw and nibble on his neck, marking him as hers. Unable to bear watching him suffer in silence, Hermione made her way to the floor in front of Ron. Settling between his spread legs, she slowly ran her hands up and down his thighs whispering words of comfort. She could feel her desire stirring as she felt the muscles in his legs and observed the steady growth of the bulge in his pants.
Resting her cheek in his leg, Hermione finally spoke, “I wish I could take your pain away, bear it as my own.”
“I don’t” Ron replied looking down at her softly, stroking her hair gently, “you’ve suffered enough pain, especially at my expense.”
“I’d do it all again, as long as it brought us here … together.”
“No more ‘sort of’ for us.” Ron said with a small chuckle.
“Pardon?” Hermione turned up to face him, resting her chin on his thigh as she looked up at him.
“You and me, no more ‘sort of together.’ We’re, I don’t know, an ‘us’ now, right? I mean asking you to be my girlfriend seems so small, when you’re already so much more then that to me.” Ron lovingly caressed her cheek with the back of his hand as he spoke. “Not that I don’t want you to be my girl,” he added with a sheepish grin.
“Oh Ron, I want to be ‘your girl’ and so much more.” Hermione smiled at him with tears in her eyes, the first happy tears she had felt in a very long time.
“Come here,” he reached for her arm and brought her up to cradle her in his lap.
“Mmmmm, a perfect fit,” Hermione said as she cuddled into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder.
“I always knew you would be” Ron whispered into her ear before he kissed her ear and neck, causing Hermione to shiver slightly as goose bumps raced over her flesh.
“You know, I used to watch Lavender sit in your lap and think that she just didn’t look right – like she just didn’t fit. I can’t tell you how many times I wished it was me instead.” Hermione confessed sheepishly.
“Me too,” Ron replied, “Look Hermione, I’m so sorry, you should know that Lavender was nothing. I …”
“Ron, its okay, let’s not talk about it tonight” Hermione interrupted, placing her fingers to his mouth. Ron began to place gentle kisses to her fingers as she spoke, flicking his tongue lightly across the tips. “We have a lifetime to discuss things like Lavender … and Viktor … and …”
“And the locket, we need to talk about that … and why I left,” Ron insisted.
“And will we, just not now. All that is in the past, everything that’s happened has brought us closer together, has brought us here.” Hermione snuggled in closer to Ron, “and I really like being here.” Hermione wiggled her bum against Ron’s lap to demonstrate her point, enjoying his pulsing into her backside.
“I really like having you here” Ron said in a husky growl before capturing her lips with his own.
Hermione was quickly learning that kissing Ron was a whole body experience, involving much more than just two sets of lips touching. It included two hot dueling tongues moving in perfect synchronicity, goose bumps on her scalp and shivers down her spine from his strong hands running through her hair and over her body, a throbbing in her core that far exceeded any tingle of sexual excitement she had felt before.
She felt his kisses in her soul; she had never experienced such tenderness, never felt so safe or desired. Never experienced such … love? Yes, love, she was sure of it. She had known since Malfoy Manor that Ron loved her, his lips on her body and his words whispered in her ear tonight were confirmation. Hermione had observed Ron snogging Lavender enough times to know that what was happening between them was completely different. When Ron was kissing Lavender, it was as if he was trying to prove to himself and everyone in Gryffindor Tower (especially her) that he was snog-worthy, that somebody actually wanted him. Kissing Lavender was about Ron proving his worth to himself, whereas when he kissed Hermione, it was about proving his love to her. With every touch of his lips, every flick of his tongue, every caress of his hands, he was saying, “I love you Hermione.” She did her very best to say it back, communicating without words.
Eventually their exhaustion surpassed their passion and their kisses and caresses slowed. Hermione’s eyes grew heavy and she fought valiantly against sleep, fearing that Ron would send off to the girls’ dormitory, alone. As tired as she was, Hermione refused to be apart from Ron. As brave as she had proven herself to be, she still couldn’t find the courage to leave his embrace. As she nuzzled his neck she noticed his deep breaths and soft snores. Knowing he was asleep and she was safe from banishment to her own room, Hermione allowed sleep to claim her as she lay cradled in Ron’s warmth and protection.
“Hermione?” She heard her name through the fog of sleep. “Hermione, luv, wake up.” There it was again. Luv? ‘Don’t wake me,’ she wanted to demand. She felt so warm and comfortable, and was having the most amazing dream, where she and Ron were together, and kissing, and they both wanted more … wait … Ron. Her consciousness finally woke and she realized Ron was why she was so comfortable and warm, it was his deep voice calling her ‘Luv’ trying to wake her. She lifted her head from his chest and nuzzled his neck, “Mmmm, I’m awake,” she murmured before placing soft kisses on his jaw.
With a deep sigh Ron announced, “I’m not sure of the time but its dark, we should head up to bed now.”
“Okay.” Hermione replied quietly. She looped her arms tightly around his neck, indicating that she wasn’t moving on her own.
“I can’t carry you up to your dorm Hermione, the stairs probably are still working.”
“I know,” she said clutching him tighter.
“Would you like to sleep with me? I mean with me and Harry … I mean stay with me … us … upstairs …” Ron stammered.
Hermione lifted her head from Ron’s shoulder, placing her small hand on his cheek and meeting his eyes as she spoke, “Ron, I’d love to sleep with you.” Ron rose and carried her toward the stairs leading to the boys’ dorm as she added “Only you” in a whisper against his skin.
Ron carried Hermione all the way to the seventh year dorm and placed her carefully in the center of the room where they both kicked off their shoes. He looked nervously at his bed obviously wondering how to proceed. “Do you want to …uh…” he started, his voice cracking as he motioned toward his bed. Noticing her beaded bag, he finished, “brush your teeth?”
“Yes, thank you. Will you show me to the lavatory?” she asked sweetly.
Ron managed to retrieve their toothbrushes from the depths of the bag. “Yea, sure, just out here.” Hermione followed him closely. Once they reached the boys’ lav, Hermione noted the showers and had an idea. “You know, since we’re here, a shower would be lovely, don’t you think?”
“Y-You want to shower … now?”
“Yes Ron, don’t you? I fear I still smell like dragon.”
“No, you smell great.” Ron’s ears began to turn red. “I mean, um, yea … sure … okay. You can use the one at the end. That’s usually my stall. I’ll just put our stuff by the sink and shower up here, you know to give you privacy and all.” Ron’s blush was so intense it looked like his face as going to burst into flames.
Hermione tentatively made her way to the end shower stall Ron had indicated she should use. She fought against the nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t nervous about being alone with Ron in the boys’ shower, or even about being naked in such close proximity to him. In fact, her nervousness stemmed from being so far away from him.
Though her logical mind knew it was irrational, she feared that if she let Ron out of her sight, even for an instant, he would vanish. She didn’t think he would leave her on his own accord. Her fear of his purposeful abandonment was quashed quite savagely by his actions at Malfoy Manor. What she feared was that their survival, specifically his survival, was all a dream. She feared that any moment she would open her eyes and be in the Great Hall and instead of Fred’s lifeless body, she would be looking at Ron’s, that it would be Ron’s blue eyes staring back at her devoid of all their love and warmth.
Hermione shook herself in an attempt to will the image away. She knew Ron was alive and right in the same room. She could see his clothes lying on the ground in front of his shower, could hear his water running. She disrobed and stepped into the stall. As she turned the water on, she once again fought the urge to run down the corridor and throw her arms around Ron. Looking down at her naked body, and knowing he was in the same state, Hermione let out a loud laugh as she thought of Ron’s stunned reaction. ‘He would definitely think I’d gone round the bend … but somehow I don’t think he’s mind too much,” she thought with another laugh.
Her second involuntary chuckle did not go unnoticed by Ron. “Everything all right there Hermione?” he asked.
“Yes. Thank you,” was her reply. She let out a small sigh at the sound of his voice, a concrete reminder of his presence. As if reading her mind, he called out gently to her, “I’m right here.” All she could manage in reply was a weak “Thank you” with an added “Thank goodness” to herself.
After she’d washed her hair, Hermione grabbed a flannel and lathered it with soap, starting the process of removing over 24 hours of grime from her body. As she rubbed the soapy cloth up and down her legs she was pleased to note the hair depletion charm she had performed during her last shower at Shell Cottage didn’t need to be refreshed.
‘Shame on you Hermione,’ she admonished herself silently. ‘You’re lucky to be alive and here you are worrying about hairy legs. How shallow!’
‘Although, Ron would be quite turned off by stubbly legs,’ Hermione noted.
‘What’s to say Ron will even be in a position to notice if I have smooth legs?’ she argued with herself.
She just knew he would be in such a position; after all they were sharing a bed tonight, weren’t they? His invitation to stay in the boys’ dormitory was an invitation to stay with him, wasn’t it? She didn’t think Ron would want her sleeping in one of the other boys’ beds, even if were vacant, would he? She had been pretty clear what she wanted, hadn’t she? Of course it had taken them years to even kiss because she thought she was sending clear signals that he obviously didn’t receive. From now on, she determined she would make certain he knew exactly what she wanted – him.
While these obsessive thoughts filled her mind, Hermione continued to wash herself. When she reached the area between her legs Hermione once again made note of her hair growth. Hermione remembered Ginny’s excitement at the beginning of last summer, before the wedding, when she got to teach Hermione something she didn’t know. Apparently Fleur had taught Ginny a charm to shape, trim, or remove the hair from her private area. Ginny joked that she couldn’t decide between shaping her hair into a lightening bolt, and going totally bare. Hermione utilized the charm to an extent, knowing it would help with her feminine hygiene while away on their search, but reluctant to completely remove her triangle of brown curls. Standing in the boys’ shower, she was rethinking her decision. ‘Would Ron prefer for her to be bare, or more natural? Did Ron even have a preference? Had he ever seen a naked woman? Would he be seeing her naked? Did he want to? If so, when? Tonight?’
The answers to Hermione’s questions came sooner than she could have imagined. She was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of sobs echoing through the showers. She peered over the half-wall of her stall to see Ron standing two stalls away, under the spray of water, his hands bracing the wall in front of him with his shoulders heaving in sadness. Hermione, forgetting all modesty and propriety, rushed from her shower down to Ron’s aid.
Hermione threw her arms around Ron when she reached him, burying her face into his shoulder blades. The fact they were both completely starkers did not even register with her.
“Shh, love, it’s okay, I’m here” she soothed.
“Please Hermione, you should go” Ron mumbled, trying to regain his composure.
“Don’t want you to see me … like this … see me cry … so weak … please,” he made out between sobs.
“If not me, then who?”
“If you can’t seek comfort in the arms of the woman who loves you, where can you find it? If you can’t cry with me, then whom can you cry with?”
“Love?” Ron asked in a small voice.
“Yes, Ron … love … with all my heart.” She placed small tender kisses across his shoulders and upper back while rubbing his stomach with her small hands. “Just relax, let yourself go, you’re safe with me.” Hermione tried hard not to notice the feeling of her naked breasts pressed against his strong wet back, or the feel of his firm bottom against her; This was about comforting Ron, not easing her own ache.
Hermione felt the tension in Ron’s shoulders ease as he finally gave into his grief. She held onto him as strongly as her small body would allow, all the while peppering his shoulders and neck with soft kisses and words of encouragement. When his tears began to subside Hermione relaxed her embrace and slowly snaked her arm around to rest on his bicep, tracing the scar left there by his splinching when the escaped Yaxley at Grimmauld Place all those months ago. Hermione remembered how she almost lost Ron that night, the memory bringing forth recollections of all the times they had almost lost each other over the years. If she had learned anything the past year, especially the past 24 hours, it was that there were no guaranteed tomorrows.
Now that Ron was regaining control of his emotions, his reaction to a naked Hermione pressed against his body was becoming more evident. Hermione grinned as she caught a glimpse of growing arousal. She gathered her courage and slowly snaked her hand further down his front, running her nails through the trail of hair leading to his manhood.
“Her-Hermione you’re starkers,” Ron croaked as he turned off the water. She slowly rose on her tiptoes, dragging her breasts against his back and whispered into his ear, “Yes Ron, I am.” As she caressed his naked bum she observed, “So are you.”
“Can I … see you? Can I turn around and see you?”
Hermione’s nerves came back full force, she was quite brave when he was facing the wall, but what would happen once he saw her? “I don’t know … no one’s ever …” she began.
“I should hope not” he interrupted with a growl.” Drawing a calming breath he asked, “If not me, then who?”
“Wh-what do you mean?” Hermione was confused to find her own question thrown back at her.
“If you can’t show yourself to the man who loves you with his whole heart, then who can you show?” Ron asked.
“Love?” she asked mimicking their earlier exchange.
“Yes Hermione,” he said with no hesitation in his voice, “Please let me tell you to your face,” he pleaded
Taking a deep breath she replied, “Okay Ron, you can turn around.”
Ron turned to face her. He gently placed his large hands on either side of her face, caressing her cheeks softly with his thumbs, “I love you Hermione” he stated clearly and strongly, his eyes never leaving hers.
Hermione reached up and took Ron’s face in her hands, “I love you, Ron.” She pulled him down to her until their lips barely touched, “So very much,” she whispered before sucking his lush bottom lip between hers.
They stood in the shower stall, completely nude, with no other parts of their bodies touching, save for their mouths and hands entangled in each other’s hair. The kiss they shared in that moment was slow and sensual. This was the kiss that sealed their fate; they each knew, without verbalizing it, that they would never part. There would be no more awkwardness or insecurities between them; they were one, now and forever.
Hermione finally took a step back and looked up into Ron’s face. His eyes were closed and his mouth slightly parted licking his lips gently; He appeared as if he were attempting to memorize what they had just shared. “Open your eyes Ron, look at me.”
Ron opened his eyes and slowly allowed his gaze to travel from her face down her naked body. He let out a puff of air and whispered, “Bloody gorgeous.” Hermione gave him a small smile in response to his compliment.
He reached out his hand to follow the path his eyes were taking. With a confidence he never felt before he skimmed his hand down from her cheek to collarbone and lower to her breast, which he began to knead gently. His other hand reached behind her to cup her bottom. Ron leaned forward, pulling her gently against him, and placed his lips to her ear, “You are even more amazing then I dared to dream.” He placed a soft kiss on the spot below her ear and moved his lips to pull her earlobe into his mouth, sucking on it with increasing intensity before moving onto the hollow of her neck and back around to her mouth.
Hermione thought she might loose consciousness from the flood of sensations caused by Ron. The combination of his strong hands on her breasts and arse and his mouth ravishing her were almost too much, yet ironically they were also not quite enough. Hermione met Ron’s actions with equal ferocity; her hands buried in his hair, clutching at his back, her mouth meeting his then traveling over his firm jaw and neck.
She smothered his chest with open mouth kisses, flicking her tongue against his nipples. Her actions caused Ron to emit a groan that served to spur her on. She reached between them and took Ron’s erection firmly in her right hand and began stroking him while using her left to slowly scratch up the inside of his thigh until she reached his sac. As she started to fondle him, he suddenly hoisted her up against him, with his hands grasping her bottom and bringing her chest within reach of his mouth. She wrapped her legs around his waist and relished in the feel of him throbbing against her bum.
“Merlin, I love your arse,” he growled into her neck as he gave each cheek a squeeze, “best part of this year was watching you in Muggle clothes, no bloody robes to block my view. He continued as he kissed down her body, “and these ... these are perfect,” he observed before taking a nipple into his mouth with a satisfied moan.
“Mmmm, so good” he murmured into her cleavage as he left a moist trail to her other breast. Hermione had read of men who ‘suckled’ their partner’s breasts. Ron Weasley did not suckle – he feasted. He made Hermione feel like she was the best tasting thing he had ever had in his mouth. Each lick, flick, nibble and suck led her further into oblivion. She couldn’t help but wonder what other part of her body he might enjoy feasting on.
Hermione soon realized that all she had to do was move her body the slightest bit and Ron would be able to slip inside her and squelch her ache. However lost she was in the sensations they were creating in each other, she still had the presence of mind to know she didn’t want to lose her virginity up against the wall in the boys’ lavatory. “Ron, … Ron, we have to stop.”
“Wh-what?” came his hazy voice after he released her breast from his mouth.
“Ron, we should stop, it’s not the right …”
“Okay, yeah, sure. Uh, not the right time, yeah, I get it. What with … everything that’s happened.” He slowly lowered her to the ground. Looking down at the ground as he raked a trembling hand through his hair, he began apologizing, “I’m so sorry. I’m such a git. Geesh, what must you think of me?”
“Ron, why do you automatically think you’ve done something wrong?” Hermione asked as she ran her hands over his chest.
“Be-because, I have… its not right … Remus, Tonks … Fred, all gone, and us … me trying to, well you know.” Ron tried to formulate full sentences, but Hermione’s hands on him made the task rather difficult.
“Yes Ron, they are gone. Everyone who died today did it so that others would have a chance at life. If we had died instead, you can bet Remus and Tonks would be celebrating their survival, their love.” Hermione’s hands snaked closer to her goal. “As for Fred, he would be right proud to know you’ve snuck a girl into the boys’ shower and I imagine he’d be quite upset if you didn’t see it through.”
This last statement elicited a small chuckle from Ron. “Especially since the girl in question is you, Miss Granger the Perfect Prefect.”
“We’ve wasted enough time Ron,” Hermione’s small hand wrapped firmly around his throbbing cock. Whispering into his ear as she began to stroke him again, “I was going to say that this is not the right place. Let’s go to bed.” With a quick peck on his cheek and a wink she turned and left the shower. “Gather our stuff, will you?” she called out over her shoulder as she covered herself with a towel and left the room.
Ron stood in the shower for a moment, completely gobsmacked. Finally gathering his senses and their belongings, he wrapped a towel around himself and headed for the seventh year dorm. When he arrived he found the hangings around three of the five beds drawn closed, with Hermione’s shoes peeking out from under Neville’s bed. He walked up to Neville’s bed, “Hermione? Hermione are you there?” When he attempted to part the curtains he found they wouldn’t budge.
With a sigh and a downcast expression, he turned to his own bed. His curtains parted and the sight of a very naked Hermione kneeling in his bed greeted him. “Where have you been?” she queried with a mischievous smile.
“I – I thought you were Neville’s bed,” Ron stammered.
“Now, why ever would I be there Mr. Weasley?”
“That’s what I was trying to figure out.”
“I thought it best to create a decoy in case anyone came looking for us, especially anyone you might be related to. Trust me, this is where I plan on staying” she said as she scooted back to lounge against his pillows. “Mmmm, comfy” she practically purred as she stretched like a cat. “Care to join me?” Hermione reached out to Ron, he tugged at his towel and climbed into bed with her. Closing the curtains they casting any and all spells they could think of to protect them from prying eyes (especially any belonging to a Weasley), allowing them to truly be alone for the first time.
The next morning Ron stood at the window of his dorm overlooking the Hogwarts’ grounds. He could hardly believe the ups and downs he had been through in the past 48 hours: Gringotts, the dragon, the Chamber of Secrets, destroying the cup, kissing Hermione, finding the diadem, the Fiend Fyre, losing Fred, losing Harry, finding Harry, loving Hermione.
Hermione – thoughts of her brought a smile to his face that he hoped would never fade. They had spent the night seeking comfort in one another, they talked, they kissed, they cried; they loved. Ron had been determined not to leave one inch of her luscious body untouched and he succeeded in proving to her, with his words and actions, how much he loved her. It amazed him even now, after having spent the night making love to her repeatedly, that she loved him back, just as passionately and completely.
Once they had declared their feelings for each other in the showers, the wall that was forever between them crumbled, taking with it all their insecurities and inhibitions. Ron had never been more grateful to have as many older brothers than he was the previous night, especially ones with so much experience with women. They had provided him with the tutelage necessary to provide Hermione the bliss she deserved. They had even taught him a spell that allowed her to feel no pain at their initial coupling, only intense pleasure.
“You’re up early, mate.” Harry’s greeting roused Ron from his thoughts.
“Yeah, guess so. Hard to keep track of time when you’ve been awake as long as we were.” Ron replied, turning from the window.
“Too true” Harry responded with a knowing nod. Pointing toward the closed curtains around Neville’s bed, Harry asked, “Hermione still sleeping?”
“I think so.” Trying to steer the conversation away from the topic of Hermione, least he begin blushing violently, Ron asked Harry what his plans were for the morning.
“Well, since I’ve already showered, I figured go down to the Great Hall, find some food and maybe find …”
“Ginny” Ron interrupted.
“Yeah. We need to talk.”
“Good mate, talking’s good.”
“So, you and Hermione, you ‘talked’?”
“We did, we worked some stuff out. We still have more to discuss, but I think we’re going to be okay. Actually better than okay.”
“That’s great.” Harry gave Ron the brightest smile he had seen on his best mate in ages. “You want to come down for breakfast with me?”
“No, thanks, I’ll just wait for Hermione.”
“Ron Weasley saying no to food – this must be love.” Harry observed with a chuckle as he headed for the door.
“It is mate, it really is” Ron replied without and embarrassment or hesitation in his voice.
“Good on you, Ron, good on you,” Harry said as he closed the door behind him.
As soon as Harry left, a voice called out to Ron from behind his bed curtains. “Ron, its chilly in here. Either come back to bed or get me some clothes,” Hermione demanded. Ron open the curtains to find Hermione wrapped in his bed sheet, “or, maybe we could just take another shower – it would be the perfect place to get warm,” she said with a smile and an arch of her brow. As Ron leaned in to capture her mouth in a kiss, he thought the shower was a grand idea; after all he did want Fred to be proud of him.
AN: Initially I had written exactly what happened behind Ron’s curtain, but eventually just felt like they deserved time alone (plus I really need to work on writing smutty details – having had a baby 3 weeks ago, my smut’s a little rusty).