I'm back, with another story from my little 'shorter ones' collection - not sure if they're too long to be called one shots? I'm posting them as separate stories because whilst they are all my head cannon that fit in with all my stories and they're all in chronological order, they are all stand alone stories from important moments in Ron and Hermione's life (as I see it) I really hope you like them - got 11 of them written and I'll be posting one every couple of weeks whilst I get started on writing a new longer story.
Hope you like this one...includes scenes of some very adult nature in some detail, so if you don't like that stuff, don't read :)
I know it's Valentine's weekend...but here's some Christmas fun :p
Christmas 1998
I was practically choking on silent laughter as Mum left the lounge with a tray of empty cups, oblivious to the scene she was leaving behind. She had just asked Ron, who'd been invited to my house for Boxing Day tea, if he would like anything else to eat or drink. He had very politely declined the offer, remembering the impeccable manners he'd learnt to use whilst in my parents company.
I found it hilarious because I had never, not in my almost eight years of knowing him, heard Ronald Weasley turn down any offer of food!
Ron, not at all amused by my reaction, scowled at me. Fighting back my chuckles, I offered him a smile and patted his hand that was resting on the sofa cushion between us. Over at The Burrow, we'd think nothing of snuggling up together on the sofa, but given our present company, this was about as close as we dare sit next to one another. My Mum might now be in the kitchen, but my Dad was still in the room with us, his eyes focused on a cricket match on the TV – the volume low as per the request of my Mother.
Over in the corner by the fireplace, hogging the best seat in the house, was my somewhat formidable and elderly Great Aunt Jean – my middle names' namesake. Currently she nursed a glass of sherry in her hand that threatened to topple over every time her eyes drooped again. Crookshanks, who was curled up behind me on the back of the sofa, kept one distrustful beady eye on her. I suspected my cat was also annoyed because she had stolen his favourite perch.
Casting a glance around the serenity of my parents front room, I shared a smirk with Ron, probably thinking the exact same thing. It was an entirely different scene to what we'd experienced at his parents home the night before with jovial Christmas day festivities. The Burrow had been overflowing with noise and people – a raucous game of exploding snap between Charlie and Ginny was going on in the corner of the lounge. At the same time, there was a rather loud debate about a recent Quidditch match between Bill, Harry and George. The shrill notes of Celestina Warbeck emitted from the wireless with Molly humming along loudly whilst Fleur did her best to keep her opinions to herself on the singer these days - though perhaps not her facial expressions! Arthur was nodding off in his armchair, his chin on his chest, but was startled awake every time the cards exploded in the corner and laughter ensued. Percy had brought his new girlfriend home for the evening and the two of them were deep in conversation whilst supervising the washing up in the kitchen.
And then there had been Ron and myself, sat on the floor before the fire place where he was testing me at a game of chess once more. He had been winning, obviously, but even I knew he wasn't trying half as hard as he usually did. This resulted in him fending of insults from Charlie and George who laughed at his attempts not to upset his girlfriend by slaughtering her in the game. It was just a happy house full of people all enjoying the day and trying so hard to be brave and not think too much about the fact this was the first Christmas without Fred. Ron had told me that George had nobly informed everyone this morning that Fred would not have wanted them to ruin the day by being miserable because he wasn't here and they should enjoy it for him. After a brief sniffled hug from his Mum, they were all doing an impressive show of doing just that.
By comparison, the activities in my parents far too tidy lounge the following afternoon were somewhat stifling and boring. I even found myself comparing the festive decorations – the Weasley's was full of brightly coloured mismatched ornaments, hand made trimmings lovingly kept from years past and the fun of hanging things willy nilly around the room so some would consider it overdone. A far cry from the very subdued tree in the corner of my parents home which had a theme and everything had to match. Mum only allowed what she thought were classy white bulbs on her tree. The traditional wreath on the front door and the odd sprig of holly adorning a picture frame completed the decorations.
Dad had been rather ignorant all night with all of his attention on the match on TV. Aunt Jean spent most of her time sleeping, waking for brief moments to demand something else to eat or drink, or occasionally trying to instil her so called wisdom on us 'youngsters'. Which left myself, Ron and my Mum trying to carry a rather stunted conversation.
Something happened in Dad's match that made him cheer, snapping Aunt Jean from one of her little naps. She jumped and sloshed some of the sherry over her hand. Then, turning to glare at myself and Ron, as though we had made the noise and not her nephew, she drained her glass and held it out to my Mum who was just coming back in with a plate of mince pies. I caught Ron eye them and smirked to myself.
"Did you say Ronald wasn't attending school this year?" She asked me again, going back to a conversation from an hour ago.
"No, Aunt Jean," I sighed. "I already told you that this year is optional," I repeated the lie we'd been telling the few relatives who asked why I was going back to school for what they thought was my eighth year – it was an optional extended course.
"Don't think your education is important then, do you young man?" she asked. "How will you ever get a job?"
"I erm," he stammered. "I already have a job. I was offered a good training programme in a career I really wanted, so I decided to take that." He answered.
She nodded smacking her lips as Mum reluctantly handed her another glass of sherry. I personally thought she'd had enough three glasses ago.
"It really is quite a prestigious job," I pointed out. I was proud of Ron for what he was doing – working hard at his training and still finding time to help out his brother. "The job he's doing usually only take people who earn top grades in the highest exams."
"So, your grades weren't very good then Ronald?"
"No," I became flustered and waved my hands. "That's not what I meant at all. Ron didn't need to take this last year or those exams because they already saw talent he possesses for the job."
"Hmm," she frowned. I knew she wasn't impressed, but I was not having her find fault with Ron just because he wasn't the scholar she probably imagined I should be with. Aunt Jean had once been a college lecturer, a career she hadn't been able to let go of, and thought very highly of education. I'd already argued with her about my decision not to go to University.
"I agree with Ron," Dad turned and joined in the conversation during an ad break. "If he's offered a good apprenticeship in the field he wants to do, he'd be a fool to blow that off for a year of education they don't deem necessary. Get out there and earn some cash boy!"
"And you said he's doing excellently with his training, didn't you Hermione? Getting the top marks in some of your tests, isn't that right Ron?" Mum was sticking up for him too and I was both rather astounded and touched by my parents right now.
"Oh, erm, some of them, yeah..." he replied. I noted that his ears were turning pink – a tell tale sign he was finding this all rather uncomfortable.
"He's an excellent strategist," I smiled at him and curled my fingers though his on the couch in support. "And, it takes a lot of bravery to do what he's doing."
"I just never thought you'd be attracted to someone who gave up on their education Hermione. How long have you two been courting now?" she asked, using an old fashioned term that made Ron frown in confusion.
I rolled my eyes. "About eight months now Aunt Jean. But we've been friends for over seven years." I smiled at Ron.
"And I hope you're not rushing into anything of an adult nature? You're far too young for those shenanigans!" She harrumphed and took a rather noisy slurp of her sherry.
Dad's head shot up from the TV at that. "I should certainly hope not as well!" He glared at Ron.
"Edward!" Mum warned him off with a stern look.
"You just make sure you save yourself for marriage young lady. Nobody wants used goods!"
"Really Aunty Jean!" I gasped in horror as the pair of us blushed scarlet.
"Erm, perhaps it's time we were getting you home Aunt Jean?" Mum tactfully changed the subject.
She peered closely at the carriage clock on the mantel piece. "Oh, yes. It is getting rather late."
"Rather late?" Ron mouthed to me. It was barely seven o' clock! I nudged him before he started laughing.
"Ed, love. I think Aunt Jean wants to get off home." Mum informed dad.
He groaned as he turned briefly from the TV, his shoulders slumped. "Right now? But this game is crucial!" he practically wailed. Honestly, he was worse than Ron when it came to his beloved Cannons. "There's just two more overs, be about half an hour, then we can go. All right Aunty Jean?" He smiled at her. It was a good thing she thought very highly of my Dad – but then we were her only family members left.
"Oh that's fine Edward dear. I'm in no rush." She gave him a smile before turning back to my Mum. "In that case, I'd like another slice of that cake dear. And perhaps some more tea?" She requested as she got up, making a show of hobbling to the toilet with her cane when she barely needed it really.
Crookshanks gave her a scowl as she passed by.
"I'm sorry Ron, take no notice of her," Mum told him. "She's old and rather set in her ways."
Ron shrugged. "Don't worry, I have a great aunt who's the same, just as bat...oh, I mean, old fashioned." He grimaced, realising he'd almost told my Mum he thought she was as batty as his aunt Murial.
Mum just laughed, patted his shoulder and headed back to the kitchen to fix Aunt Jean's requests.
Finally, more than an hour later, Dad's game actually finished and they prepared to leave, which took another 20 minutes for her to remember where she'd left her handbag, whether she'd brought a scarf with her or not and give me some ridiculous parting wisdom about making sure I kept my hand on my ha'penny. Ron thought that sounded hilarious, until I whispered to him what she meant, then he blushed.
"Mind if I come out for a drive with you?" Mum asked, taking her coat from the hallway where we'd all congregated to say goodbye.
"Course not, love." Dad smiled. "Perhaps we could call at the pub for a drink on our way back if it's still open?" he suggested, looking more enthusiastic over the task of having to take his Aunt home than he had been a moment ago.
"I'll see you later then sweetheart?" Mum leant in to give me a quick hug. "Thought I'd give you kids a bit of time alone," she whispered, backing off with a wink. "Ron, hope we'll see you again soon? You'll probably have gone home by the time we get back tonight." She gave him a smile and a pat on his shoulder.
"Thank you for having me Mr and Mrs Granger."
"Any time," Mum replied, before following after Dad who was helping Aunt Jean into the car. I waved as they backed the car out the drive and then closed the door.
"I thought they'd never leave," I sighed in relief, turning from the door to find Ron leaning against the wall, just watching me intently.
"So, we're all alone?" he raised one eyebrow.
"Yes, we are." I smiled, taking his hand and leading him back into the lounge. I switched the TV off before turning off most of the lights, save for a couple of small lamps – casting the room in a much cosier glow.
Despite the fact I had been home from school for a week now, this was the first time Ron and I had any chance for some time alone. He'd met me from the train last week, full of excitement at having me home for two whole weeks as he swept me into his arms and smothered me in kisses, much to the amusement of Harry and Ginny! But, our reunion was short lived, my parents had been waiting beyond the magical barrier, expecting me to come home with them. They'd made plans for dinner for the three of us and wanted to hear all about school. I'd reluctantly said a fond farewell to Ron and promised I'd see him very soon.
Over the last few days my parents had monopolized my time home with plans to visit family, dinners out and even surprise trips to the theatre. Mum, who had taken some time off work for the festive period, had insisted on girly days out together on shopping trips or to a spa. And whilst I loved having this time to finally reconnect with them, especially after how tentative things had been following their return from Australia, it was also keeping me away from spending much of my holidays with Ron.
I wasn't sure whether that was deliberate or not. Whilst Mum didn't seem surprised to learn we were finally together, having suspected something was developing between us from letters I had written home as far back as my fourth year – mostly to do with the débâcle that was the Yule ball. And she seemed to approve of him well enough, knowing he made me happy and that he came from a good, respectful family. I think my Dad had been rather dismayed to finally find the part he'd always felt was missing from their life in Australia, only to discover he now had to share his only daughter's affection with another man in her life.
So, between my parents plans and with Ron's Auror duties as well as working longer hours at the shop during their busiest period, not to mention his house always crawling with family, we never managed more than five minutes together before one of us was called away or someone walked in on us. We hadn't even had time for that date he'd promised me back in October. Though, he insisted he was still taking me!
On Christmas day, my parents expected me to stay home with them, following years past traditions of Church in the morning followed by a festive lunch out. Feeling guilty for missed Christmas' with them in the past and the fact they'd be home alone otherwise, I had gone along with their wishes, but headed over to the Burrow to join Ron and his family in time for tea. We'd actually found about ten minutes in privacy for some snogging and to exchange Christmas gifts in his room, before Molly had come looking for us.
"I've missed you." Ron pulled me onto the couch beside him and kissed me in the way he hadn't been able to all day. The whole afternoon had been torture for us barely been able to touch, feeling uncomfortable under the scrutiny of my aunt and father.
"You saw me just last night," I pointed out, though smiling at his words.
"You know what I mean," he dipped his head and kissed me again.
I moved, so that I was almost sat across his lap and our eyes met for a second before his lips were back on mine. The kissing was hungry and deep – save for those stolen moments and hurried kisses, we hadn't had chance for this in so long. I moaned against his mouth when his tongue ran across my bottom lip and his hands tightened at my waist. Mine were already in his hair, messing it more than it already was.
We parted briefly, snatching a breath of air before resuming our kissing. Ron scooted down on the sofa, pulling me with him so that we were spread out along it's length, limbs entwined and kisses spilling from lips to chins, jaws and necks, hands groping feverishly.
"How long...will they...be gone?" he panted as I kissed the pulse at his throat.
"At least an hour," I breathed, inhaling his delicious scent that was so Ron – he smelt faintly of his mother's baking, log fires and something that was quintessentially Ron, probably a mix of the soap and shampoo he used with his natural scent. He always smelt good to me and I personally loved it. "Probably longer if they make it to the pub." I added.
"Good," he murmured whilst a hand crept beneath my sweater, resting his palm on my bare back and stroking the skin back and forth with his thumb.
I smiled and pushed myself closer against him as he grunted, pulling my mouth back to his to kiss me again.
"I love you," he told me, that slight look of bashfulness I still saw in his eyes whenever he declared his feelings.
"Love you too," I returned, kissing his lips once. I found it so endearing when he'd tell me first and that he was still a little bashful about it, yet more than willing now to tell me.
The kisses and groping continued for some time, sometimes hands being a little more daring than previous encounters as they explored uncharted territories. The only sounds in the room came from the crackles of logs on the fire, the ticking of the clock and the sighs and moans we were creating together on the couch.
At least until a shrill ringing pierced the air. Ron shot up, startled and grabbed his wand. "What the fuck is that?"
"Shh," I stroked his chest to calm him. "It's just the telephone." I explained, realising he'd probably never heard one ring before.
"Oh," he nodded, pocketing his wand again and looking a little shamefaced. "Yeah, I knew that." he sat up and ran his hands through his hair and over his face after I'd climbed off him to go answer it.
I ran through to the kitchen before it rung off. My heart was pounding from my activities with Ron as I grabbed the phone and greeted the caller, embarrassed to hear just how breathless my voice sounded.
"Hermione, love?" Mum sounded unsure.
"Mum!" I gasped, smoothing down my jumper as though she could see through the phone and would know what her daughter had just been up to.
"Is...everything okay?" She seemed wary.
"Oh, yeah. Perfectly fine. Are you?" I suddenly wondered why she was calling me. I glanced at the clock and assumed they'd be on their way home by now.
She sighed, sounding tired. "I'm afraid your Aunt had a bit of a fall on some ice on her doorstep. She insists she's fine and refuses to go to the hospital. But, your father and I want to stay with her tonight just to make sure she's really okay. I think the effects of alcohol are clouding her pain threshold right now."
"Oh no!" I gasped in horror. "I hope she's all right. Do you need me to do anything?" I offered, thinking I could disapparate over with some clothes for them or something at least.
"No, don't worry yourself sweetheart. I'm sure she's fine. But she is your Dad's oldest living relative, and you know how he worries. Is Ron still with you?" She suddenly asked.
"Erm, yeah..." I replied, trying not to think what we had been doing five minutes ago. "We were just... watching a movie, then he'll probably head home," I replied.
"Right...well, I was thinking perhaps you could go back to the Weasley's with him, and stay at their house for the night. I'd hate to think of you being home alone."
"I'll be fine Mum. But, spending the night there is perhaps a good idea. I'm sure Mrs Weasley won't mind."
"Good...I won't have to worry about you as well. I'd best get back, your dad was trying to convince her to get into bed when I nipped out to call you."
"Okay. Bye Mum, and give Dad and Aunt Jean my love. Goodnight."
"Goodnight sweetheart. Say goodnight to Ron for me."
We hung up and I slowly headed back to find Ron. He was sat up on the sofa, fastening a few buttons on his shirt I hadn't realised I'd undone. He looked up when I sat back beside him.
"Is something wrong?" he asked me.
I relayed Mum's conversation and what had happened. Told him she had suggested I spend the night with his family. Ron grinned, looking thrilled about the fact I'd be at his house for more than a few hours.
"Sounds good. And you know Mum will be happy to have you. Might even get to sneak into my room if you wake early enough and..."
I interrupted him, taking hold of his hand. "I was kinda hoping I could stay here..." I began shyly.
"Oh," the happy expression on his face dropped instantly. "Well, if that's what you want." He sounded sulky and stood from the sofa, looking around for his shoes. "Perhaps I should be going anyway."
"Ron," I reached out and took his hand. "I...I was hoping that, maybe we could stay here. You and me." I added, feeling a flush come to my cheeks at my suggestion.
He shrugged. "Oh, well I can sleep over if you like. I suppose the sofa is big enough." He eyed it up.
"Actually...I was thinking more along the lines of us sleeping...together."
He stared at me for a moment, his mouth opening and closing in disbelief as he sat back down heavily. "Sleeping...together," He gulped. "Like, you mean, erm..."
I nodded. "Together. Ron, I, I think I'm...ready." I answered his unasked question.
"Ready?" he frowned, screwing his face up in confusion for a moment over what I could be ready for. I gave him a nervous little smile and rubbed my hand up his thigh. "Ohh," it dawned on him and he stared at me. "You mean, you're...bloody hell!" he gasped.
"We don't have to," I whispered, thinking he was repulsed by the idea and now felt more than embarrassed for having suggested it.
"No!" He practically shouted at me. "I mean, of course I want to...sleep with you. I've wanted to for so long." He confessed. "I just, wasn't expecting this, at least not tonight and...you're sure? You're not just doing this because you think it's what I want or..."
"Ron," I pulled him towards me and kissed his cheek. "I love that you've been so patient and considerate and everything. But, honestly...I want us to make love, tonight." I kissed him again.
Truth be told, I suppose this had been a long time coming. At least as far as I gathered from other girls around my age who all seemed to have more experience than me. Though, I was well aware had I not been miles away at school without him for the last few months and if we'd maybe had a little more privacy towards the end of the summer, then maybe this would have happened already. Still, I was glad that we'd waited, because now I was completely sure this is what I wanted and it seemed like the perfect time to take our relationship to the next step.
Ron's ears were turning pink as he let out an explosion of air and then turned to me with a smirk on his face, before claiming my lips once more. The kiss deepened quickly and his hold on me tightened, our tongues brushed lightly against one another.
"You're sure?" he breathed, pulling back slightly but with his forehead against mine. "You're really sure?"
"Yes," I sighed and pulled him back, fingers entwining around his neck, toying with the fine ends of his hair at his nape and pressing my lips to his once more. "There's nothing I want more right now," I whispered.
He kissed me deeper as one hand ran down my body, tugging at the hem of my jumper and pulling it upwards. I broke off the kiss and sat back, shyly allowing him to remove my clothing. Although we had touched, a lot, through clothing we had never actually seen one another naked – the closest we'd come to that had probably been in bathing suits over the summer. I was suddenly very aware that Ron was about to see me in my bra and I was glad I'd put one of my nicer ones on this morning.
He pulled my jumper up, one arm came free and then it got stuck. The knit had become tangled in the necklace I wore. He jerked it again to try and free it, which only succeeded in pulling the necklace tight around my neck and the jumper almost smothering me.
"Ouch, Ron...stop!" I grabbed his wrist with my one free hand. "You'll have to untangle it first."
"I'm trying," he hissed, tugging at it this way and that with muttered curses under his breath.
"Not like that!" I huffed. "You'll snap the chain."
"I'm not going to snap the damn thing," he muttered, becoming even more frustrated.
"Get this darn thing off me..." I grumbled. It was hot and somewhat claustrophobic trapped with your head inside a jumper. "Ron..." I warned him.
"Calm down woman." He mumbled, sounding grumpy.
"Oh...just let me do it!" I shoved him away. Somehow, without even being able to see what I was doing, I got myself untangled easy enough and threw the jumper aside. Ron just looked at me, taking in my disgruntled expression, my flushed face from being trapped and what must have looked like a birds nest on top of my head from my dishevelled hair. He was losing a battle not to laugh at me, before giving in and bursting into hysterics.
"I'm sorry," he tried to stop himself by pressing his lips together. "It's just...you looked like a turtle and..." he caught sight of the look I was giving him. "It wasn't funny. I'm sorry," he repeated, before giving in to further howls of laughter.
"Ron..." I huffed and tapped his upper arm, not amused. He was almost choking, trying to fight back his giggles, but his eyes shimmered with his obvious mirth. He looked so comical, that I couldn't help a nervous chuckle of my own, now seeing the funny side and knowing I must have looked completely ridiculous.
"I am sorry, love," he whispered finally as he hugged me. "Are you okay?" He kissed my forehead when he pulled back.
I nodded. "I am, but is my necklace okay?" I wondered, reaching up to grasp it.
"It looks fine," he checked. "You really like it then?"
"Of course I do," I looked at him, feeling rather affronted. "Why wouldn't I? This is my first Christmas present from my boyfriend and it's special." I clasped the little golden cat that dangled from the delicate gold chain between my fingers, slowly rotating it. I felt the tiny bumps embedded in the gold of it's body that were little red crystals. "You shouldn't have spent so much money on me though. It's beautiful, but it's too much."
He was blushing again and rubbing the back of his neck. "It wasn't really that much. But I did spend a long time trying to find something nice for you...when I saw that it made me think of Crookshanks. And then I noticed it was red and gold – our Gryffindor colours and," he shrugged. "Well, I hoped you would like it."
"It's perfect," I leant forward and kissed his lips. "Even more so because you put all that thought into it. Thank you."
"You're worth it," he returned my kiss. "Anyway you got me an amazing present too! I can't wait to go see the Cannons with you on New Years Day." His grin widened and he looked dreamy for a moment. I had a fleeting momentary thought of who he loved more here – his girlfriend or his beloved Quiddtitch team.
"Then I'm glad I went to all that effort to get them for you."
"Beats me how you managed to find two tickets to a sold out match anyway. Well, apart from the obvious fact you're a bloody amazing witch!" he laughed.
"It took a bit of work, but I happen to think you're worth it too." I smiled up at him before he took me in his arms again.
"Bloody hell, Hermione," He gasped as though he'd only just noticed I was sat in only my bra and jeans. "Your tits look bloody amazing in that bra!" He blurted out and then realised what he'd said, blushed furiously, from the tips of his ears down beyond the neckline of his shirt. "I erm...sorry..."
"Oh Ron," I shook my head and pulled him back into my arms again. Truth was, I liked the feel of his hands on my naked skin. Ron kissed my neck softly and soon enough things heated up between us and were engrossed in kissing again. I didn't even notice how Ron finished up topless as well. "Shall we...go up to...my...room?" I gasped, between kisses after a few minutes.
He looked alarmed. "We're still doing this then? Even though I almost strangled you with your own jumper?"
I rolled my eyes, standing from the sofa and took his hand. "Come on," I murmured and began to lead him upstairs pausing to turn the lights out, make sure the fire was safe and the front door locked.
We hurried upstairs and crashed into my room. Crookshanks, who had been asleep on my bed, bolted up and glared at us, annoyed after he'd retreated up here for some peace. For a couple of moments, we just stood there, nervously looking at one another, neither sure what to do now. Oh, I knew the logistics. I mean, I had read a book, or three, on the matter and knew for a fact that neither of us was a stranger to pleasuring ourselves. I mean, I assume he did it, because I certainly did. But, this; seeing one another totally naked, touching one another naked, having sex...the practical would be entirely different to the theory, and I was nervous.
"Now what?" Ron asked, breaking the awkward silence.
I laughed lightly, the nerves getting the better of me again and finally moved to close the curtains in my room and switch the bedside lamp on – no point in letting him see me naked in all glaring glory from the main bedroom light.
I stepped back in front of him then and circled my hands around his waist, noting how firm his body was becoming through his intense training. "Now, "I whispered in what I hoped was a seductive manner and that I didn't just sound like I had a sore throat. "Now, you kiss me." I told him, lifting my face to look up at him.
He grinned and lowered his head to meet my lips and once again the kissing deepened quickly – it was always like an electric charge went through us when we kissed, I was suddenly becoming impatient to know how it was going to feel to make love with him.
I squealed then as I was suddenly swept off my feet quite effortlessly and Ron unceremoniously dumped me onto my bed. Both of us were startled when Crookshanks gave a furious yowl and shot onto the floor. There, he gave a huge yawn and stretch before turning to glare at Ron and with a flick of his tail, he skulked off out of the room in utter disgust.
"Sorry fluffball!" he shouted after my cat and I smacked him for the comment as he lay down beside me. He soon made me forget when he stretched his still denim clad legs out beside mine and brought our lips back together. Hands were wandering more often now, stroking bum cheeks, over naked skin at our waists and his hand cupping my breasts.
Even though I was still wearing my bra, my nipples were hard points and poked into his palm, almost as desperate for his touch as I was. And then the intensity really heated up when he began trailing soft kisses down my neck, along my chest and over my breasts. He kissed the stiff peak and I gasped, clasping handfuls of his hair.
Bravely, breathing deeply, he slipped the cup of my bra down and revealed my naked breast to his eyes for the first time. They widened and he grinned that eager smile of his, as though he'd just been presented with his most favourite meal. "Amazing," I heard him mutter. "Fucking amazing," he groaned and then lowered his mouth once more.
"Oh..." I moaned, surprised by the new sensation – sending tingles from my breasts straight to the apex of my thighs. "Ron...so good..." I hissed, closing my eyes tightly when he flicked his tongue across the hardened nipple.
He did the same with the other, whilst wriggling his hand underneath and fighting with the clasp. "How the bloody fuckering hell do you get this thing off!" He grunted, exasperated after pulling at it for a few moments.
I laughed and raised his head to kiss his forehead before I sat up and feeling my face flush even more than it was already, I slid my hands up my own back and with a flick of the wrist, had the clasp undone and pulled the straps down my arms, dropping it over the side of the bed.
Ron looked me over, his eyes wide and that smile returning, the hungry smile. In a silent, mutual agreement, we decided to take our jeans off as well so as we were now sat facing each other on my bed wearing nothing but our underwear. I glanced slowly down his body and then froze when I saw the outline of his hardening penis in his underpants. I quickly glanced away again.
Ron noticed and let out a little chuckle. "It's okay for you to look. Unless you're planning to keep your eyes closed through the entire thing!" He chuckled softly whilst taking me into his arms and I soon relaxed into another kiss, laying back down on the bed. Our legs entwined – his strong and hairy against my delicate and smooth. I also felt his erection against my leg and flushed at the feel of it. He felt big and so hard and hot.
His hands were at my breasts again, rolling a nipple between his long fingers. He seemed fascinated with them, but then he had only been able to feel them through my clothing for months and very possibly admire them from afar before that – I suppose it was something of a novelty that I was in no way denying his touch now. To be honest, it felt too good and there was no way I'd be slapping away his daring touches now.
And that was when I was overcome with the urge to touch him more intimately, I wanted to make him feel as good as he was making me feel. Nervously I moved my hand from his back, running it over his hip and down, brushing my fingertips against the bulge evident in his underwear, pressing my palm against him with a little more pressure.
"Fuckin' hell Hermione!" His hips jerked and his head shot up and then he groaned when I did it again. "Ah...fuck!" he cursed, biting his bottom lip.
"Sorry," I snatched my hand back, not understanding his reaction. "Was that...too much? Did I do..."
"Fuck no! That felt bloody incredible. Do it again," he urged, pulling my hand back to him and watching me. I inhaled deeply, biting my bottom lip as I again pressed my palm against his erection and applied slight friction. "Oh shit," he hissed. "So good H'mione..." he faded off as he closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip when I became a little more confident and tightened my hold on him.
"Shit...wait! Not yet," he grunted as he paused my hand by placing his much larger over it. "Was kinda feeling too good, if you know what I mean?" He mumbled through heated kisses tumbling onto my neck. "I need to see you Hermione." His hand had trailed down my body softly stroking my skin and then my breathing hitched as his knuckles brushed against my knickers, dangerously close to where I ached for him. "Please let me see you," he murmured, his face against my neck.
I frowned, was he mad? How could he not see me – his body was half on top of me and the lamp was on and...oh! I realised what he meant and even after all we'd already done, the thought of him seeing me completely naked, of my seeing him completely naked, of actually seeing his penis rather than just feeling it, filled me with trepidation.
"Erm...okay," I agreed. "But, I get to see you too. We'll erm...we'll do it together then?" I asked. If I was stripping naked here, then he was too! "Like, on the count of three or something?" I suggested.
"Okay," he agreed much more readily, already untangling himself from me to climb from the bed. I followed his lead and stood before him too. "So -" he looked up at me "-one."
"Two," I continued.
"Three." We both counted at the same time as we each pulled our own underwear down. I stepped out of my perfectly sensible white cotton briefs whilst he kicked his black undies off at the ankle – almost sending them across my room. And there we stood, naked as the day we were born, facing one another and slowly taking in the sight before us. For the first time, my face felt as red as his.
I stared at his feet for the longest time, working up the courage to glance over other parts. Finally my gaze traced up his skinny, hairy calves to his thighs with more light ginger hairs and a few fading freckles. I felt my eyes widen as I gaped at the sight of his erect penis bobbing in front of him. I was right, he was big! Well, he seemed that way to me because I had nothing to compare it to, besides diagrams I'd seen in a book. What did I know about average sizes and how the hell was this going to work? That wasn't going to fit and I blushed further when I realised I had to tear my eyes away from it. My scrutiny continued up his body to hips that no longer looked sharp and bony from malnourishment as they had earlier in the year. Defining muscular lines that ran from just above his hip bone and down towards his groin, creating a delicious V caught my eye as did his abdomen which was more toned than I'd ever seen it. I had a brand new appreciation for all the Auror training he was being put through.
My eyes continued up his body, over his chest very lightly scattered with faint ginger hairs and fading, barely there freckles. His strong arms that held me so tight and protectively still marred with faint scars from those brains in our fifth year and the ragged newer scar up and around his shoulder where he'd been splinched just over a year ago. And finally to his face, his gorgeous and familiar smiling face with his bright blue eyes and long strong nose.
His eyes were smiling. No, they were smouldering I realised. He was taking me in as though I was the most exquisite thing he had ever laid eyes on. Strangely it didn't make me feel at all shy or uncomfortable. I felt as though I was something he worshipped – much more than chocolate frogs, Butterbeer or his Mum's baking or even Quidditch. I was his temple as he was my shrine.
Our eyes met then and gave one another a sheepish grin. "You look...so fucking sexy Hermione. Incredible." He breathed. "Merlin, I love you!"
"Thank you," I whispered meekly. "You, erm...you look good too. No...amazing. No, handsome and manly and...oh Ron, I love you too," I sighed and fell into his arms again.
Within seconds we were back in the bed, crawling between sheets and kissing furiously, our legs and arms entwined. Hands running over hot, silky smooth flesh, light moans and groans leaving each others parted lips. I was far too nervous to initiate anything further yet, no matter how curious I was about how it felt. I'd slide my hand over his backside and then over his hip and back up again, avoiding his penis altogether.
Ron seemed to notice. Well, of course he did – it was probably every man's fantasy for his girlfriend to grab hold of his erection and stroke him. But, I was sticking to what I was comfortable with. Or I was until he took my hand, gazed into my eyes and pulled it down towards his crotch.
"Ron..." I giggled his name, pathetically attempting to pull my arm back. Although I was a bit shy about it, I did want to learn about his body and I was eager to please him.
"Please," he whispered, kissing my lips once and then catching my eyes again. "I want you to touch me." Whether it was the look in his eyes of love and pure trust or simply me giving in to his request, I don't know, but in the next moment I was willingly pressing my hand against his bare flesh, trailing my fingers up and down his hard length. Wow! He was so warm and hard and yet the skin felt incredibly soft and silky as well. "You're killing me here, love," he moaned. "Like this," he somehow curled my hand around him and told me to grasp a little tighter. "Eek," he squeaked and I caught him wince, "not quite that hard! Yeah, like that." he was guiding my hand up and down his length now, showing me how he liked to be touched. I was fascinated with how he throbbed in my hand. Satisfied I'd got the idea, he let my hand go and I continued moving it up and down as I leant forwards to kiss him. I actually felt quite powerful with his most intimate and sensitive body part in my grasp.
"Eurgh...no more," he grunted after a few more moments and grabbed my hand again. "That feels fuckin' amazing H'mione, but...I don't want to ruin this yet, you know," he stammered and blushed again. Was he telling me he was too close? He took a minute or two to get himself under control before he rolled towards me and kissed my lips once. "You're still up for this?" he asked. "And, you're sure?" he checked.
"Yes," I nodded, holding onto his shoulders where he hovered above me. "I want you so much." I assured him. I knew I was safe in his arms.
"You erm...did you do the, you know, charm?" he asked, a little awkwardly
"Charm?" I frowned. "Oh! That one?" I knew he was talking about the contraceptive charm, one of the methods of birth control available to witches and wizards. I bit my bottom lip, ready to make a confession. "I erm...I actually did it hours ago."
His eyes widened in surprise and then he smirked at me. "Been planning this, have you?" he teased.
I shrugged a shoulder. "Maybe I was hoping," I admitted quietly. "And, I took a potion as well, just in case I didn't do the charm properly. Can't be too careful," I added.
"You? Not do a charm properly? Yeah, right," he shook his head. "So, erm, how long do they last?"
"24 hours," I replied. "So, we have plenty of time." I smoothed back his hair from his forehead and kissed him.
"That's good," he mumbled and kissed me again. I was quite sure my lips must be swollen and bruised by now what with all this passionate kissing we were doing. But, at the same time, I honestly didn't care.
He pulled back as he pushed himself up on his arms and moved over me, trying to shuffle his body between my legs. It took a moment for me to realise what his intentions were. "Hey," I pressed my hand against his chest. "Hold on a minute. What about me?"
"What about you?" he frowned. "You said you still wanted to have sex?"
"And I do. But...don't I get any attention? A woman needs plenty of foreplay before she's...ready for penetration, you know?" I paraphrased something I had read in one of those books I had been reading under my blankets by wand light at night.
"Oh," he looked down between our bodies and his ears turned pink again as he contemplated what I was getting at. "Right," he muttered whilst rolling to his side again. I huffed as I waited. "Well, move your legs then." He nudged my hip with his knuckles, before shoving his hand between my thighs so rashly he actually poked me with his finger.
"Ouch...Ron! You need to be a bit gentler. Just...use one finger lightly."
"Sorry," he muttered, sounding really flustered and avoided eye contact with me. It seemed a little strange to me that he was so shy about touching me so intimately, but had been eager for me to touch him. Perhaps he was simply worried about not doing it right. With a shaky hand, he hesitantly reached down again and very softly ran one finger over my mound and then pressed a little deeper into my folds. I moaned, the feeling of someone else touching me, someone I loved and trusted like no other, felt completely different to my own touch. My moan seemed to give him confidence. "Bloody hell," he whispered, "you're so hot and wet." He sunk his finger in a little further.
"Touch me here," I grabbed his wrist a little bossily and showed him how I liked it and where to find that hard bundle of nerves. "Yes, right there..." I sighed, my head falling back onto the pillow as he got the idea. "Keep doing that, don't stop..." I hissed, already feeling my body rushing towards it's peak much faster than I'd ever succeeded alone. I think it was the fact he was the one touching me and both of us found this exciting and racy.
My hips thrust against him, which seemed to encourage him and he became enthused with what he was doing. His movements were still a little jerky and awkward and perhaps not as gentle as I would have been, but maybe that was the difference I found so enthralling.
"Is this okay?" he asked, his eyes flashed up to mine and then back down again.
I nodded and sighed, my knees falling further open. I was already rushing towards my first ever climax from my boyfriend, from Ron. "Bloody hell..." I whispered under my breath as it washed over me suddenly. I gasped his name and dug my fingers into his arm, the other fisting the sheet beneath me as the little tremors coursed through me.
After a moment I opened my eyes to find Ron staring at me, looking rather smug. "Did you just...did I make you...come?" He almost whispered the word.
I nodded, a lazy smile on my lips. "Yes," I whispered, pulling him down to kiss him. "That was incredible." I added.
"Wow," Ron breathed, that smug grin growing. He looked so bloody proud of himself I wanted to laugh. "So, now can we have sex?" He raised both eyebrows.
I opened my arms and my legs, pulling him to me. My heart was pounding from my recent climax and in anticipation of what was to come. "Ronald Weasley, I want you to make love to me, right now," I told him.
"So bossy," he muttered under his breath as he awkwardly clambered over me into position. "You're sure?" he asked once more.
"Yes," I smiled, a little impatient now but also touched because he was being so considerate here.
He fumbled around for a bit before he slipped his hand between us to help and pushed into me, perhaps a little too enthusiastically at first and I had to tell him to slow down. He grunted as his body moved an inch or so at a time into my, until now, untouched body. He pushed again with a groan, going further and sharply broke through my virginity. I winced and gasped out at the sharp sting. "Stop," I told him, grasping his backside.
"You okay?" he looked down, concerned at the look on my face. "Do you want me to get off?" He was already scrambling onto his arms to move back.
"No. just...stay still a moment," I breathed. "It's just...it's normal the first time. I'm fine," I assured him, stroking his face and kissing his lips lightly as I allowed my body time to adjust to this new sensation.
Within seconds the slight burn was wearing off and the feeling changed. It felt pretty good actually. Mostly, I felt full and I don't just mean full of his appendage that was now inside of me. I felt so full of love and pride and passion for him and I don't think I had ever wanted him so badly. I moved my hips and quite suddenly he slid all the way inside and we both emitted deep groans.
"Fuck," Ron cursed under his breath, his face panting against my neck, blowing wisps of my hair with his breath.
Adjusting his position slightly, he moved again and I cried out – wow, that felt so strange and so damn good! He did it again and after a few overly enthusiastic thrusts, we slowly grew to a somewhat uncoordinated, clumsy rhythm of in and out, up and down, building the pleasure between us as he groaned and grunted. I found his sounds strangely exciting.
"Okay?" he checked with me.
"Yes," I sighed and wrapped my arms around him and then moved my hips, he slipped in deeper and he groaned loudly as I moaned against his ear.
He was cursing under his breath, which was coming out in ragged pants as he moved on me, concentrating deeply. It seemed to go on forever, but I knew in reality it would be too short, for our first time anyway.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he muttered against my skin. "Can't hold it. I'm gonna...oh H'mione...fuck!" he exclaimed loudly as his body froze and then his hips jerked one last time against mine. He had reached his orgasm, it was all over and although I hadn't been there quite yet, it was okay because it had still felt pretty good.
I think for the first time I understood what the books had been saying about sex being emotional as much as physical. And that it was always better with someone you truly loved. I felt tears pooling in my eyes, knowing I was so much closer to Ron than I had ever been before. We'd shared something so incredibly intimate and personal and I knew we had a stronger bond because we'd taken our relationship to this next level and had sex together. Plus, the thought that we could do this again and that it was only going to get better as we worked out what we liked and how each other's body responded was exciting.
His body collapsed onto mine with a breathless declaration that he loved me. His breathing was heavy and I could feel his heartbeat pounding against my breast, knowing mine was just as fast. He was warm and sweaty as I held him in my arms. I enjoyed the heaviness of him on top of me for a moment, before I felt as though I was being crushed.
"Ron," I murmured, kissing his rather damp head of hair and nudged his shoulder. "Squashing me," I mumbled.
"Huh?" he barely raised his head and opened one eye. "Oh, right." He moved, slipping out of me as he did and I realised I was a little sore down there, but...it was a good kind of sore – if that made any sense at all. He rolled to his back then, pulling me with him so I was cuddled up to his chest. "Wow," he gasped. "That was...fan'fucking'tastic...so, so good." He sighed deeply, seemingly content as he threw one arm above his head, his other holding me. "Was it...okay for you?" He asked, behaving rather gallantly.
"Uh huh," I nodded and then sniffed, his loving consideration bringing the tears on.
He shot up then, leaning on his elbow as he hovered over me. "You're crying!" he realised. "Damn it...did I hurt you? Are you okay? I'm so sorry! Fuck it!" He punched the mattress, seemingly mad with himself.
"Ron," I touched his cheek, getting him to look at me. "I'm perfectly fine, sweetheart. You were very...gentle and attentive. Honestly...I feel great." I smiled at him and curled my hand around his neck, pulling his face down to kiss him.
"But, you're crying." It was obvious he didn't understand.
"Yes," I replied. "Because, as you noticed when you were 14, I am a girl, and that's what us girls do." I rolled my eyes at myself. "I'm just feeling rather overwhelmed and emotional and this will sound really pathetic and cliché, but...I don't think I have ever loved you more." I laughed lightly at myself.
Ron grinned then and shook his head. "Merlin, don't do that to me again." he leant down and kissed my lips, once, twice and then a third time. "And, just so you know, I bloody love you too. So fuckin' much," he took me in his arms again, wrapping them tightly around me as he lay us back down.
He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, his body settling and I sensed he was falling asleep. Truth was, I was feeling rather exhausted myself. Just as I closed my eyes, I heard him murmur something rather sleepily.
"I noticed you were a girl long before that you know. I always noticed you." Seconds later, his hold on me loosened a little and soft snores rumbled in his chest, lulling me to sleep snuggled up with him.
When I opened my eyes the following morning, I was instantly aware that many things were different. The light coming through the curtains seemed brighter, almost like a glow was reflecting off everything outside. I wondered idly if maybe it had snowed during the night. I also noticed how quiet the house was – my parents were early risers and although I often was too, they were always up before me and I'd hear them downstairs in the kitchen. Then I realised that I had slept through the night. An entire nights sleep uninterrupted by nightmares, no jolting upright in bed, no screaming in my sleep. Just blissful peaceful sleep.
And then I became of aware of one hugely significant fact that I really should have noticed first. I wasn't alone in my bed. Another very warm body was pressed tightly against mine in my small, childhood single bed. And judging from the way our skin was in contact with one another, the other person was as naked as I was. In a rush of memories that warmed me even more than I already was, last night came back to me in all it's glorious detail. Ron and I had made love. I'd lost my virginity to the only boy I'd ever truly loved. We had sex! And, he was still sleeping beside me, his front against my back, an arm thrown over me haphazardly and his legs tangled with my own.
I smiled to myself, just enjoying these few quiet moments to get used to the fact. Inexplicably I felt older, more mature, knowing I was now in a healthy, consenting, sexual relationship with my boyfriend and I had no regrets whatsoever. It had been the right time for us and I was glad this wasn't something we'd rushed into just because of teenage hormones or a build up of sexual frustration. Last night had been perfect. Oh, our techniques definitely needed some work – something I was looking forward to having more practice at I realised with a giddy smirk, and somehow I knew we'd become experts at this! And there was a strange kind of soreness between my legs that I hoped wouldn't be so bad the next time. But, it was perfect because it had been with Ron. Because we loved one another so completely. Because we trusted and respected each other. He had been so loving and gentle and patient and I hoped he felt I'd given him the same consideration.
I felt him stirring behind me. He inhaled deeply as his arm tightened around my waist. His long, lean legs stretched out in the bed, freezing when his skin brushed against mine. And then he sighed contently as he buried his face in my hair.
"Morning," he murmured before placing a light kiss on my shoulder. His voice was gravelly and sexy and sleepy sounding.
"Morning," I replied and slowly turned in his arms, so we were nose to nose. His eyes were still closed but he had a lazy smile gracing his face.
"We had sex," he grinned then, looking entirely too smug about that fact and rather proud of himself.
"I do remember. I was there." I teased, poking his chest with a finger.
"I saw you naked!" he added with a giggle.
I rolled my eyes. "Really? I don't suppose the fact we're both still naked gave it away at all!"
He laughed once to himself and then opened his eyes to look at me. "Mmm, you're gorgeous," he mumbled and pulled me tight against him. I was quite sure I wasn't gorgeous with my pillow creased face and my mess of hair splayed all over the pillows, but I still fell into his arms. Only then did I realise that another part of him was awake and I flushed, a little embarrassed that I knew what it was. I'd read about that particular male state in one of those books – that it was natural for men to wake up in that way and it usually went down after a visit to the toilet. But, still, even after what we'd done together, the fact I was laying naked in my childhood bed, in my parents house with my very naked boyfriend who had an erection was scandalising to me.
Damn it! My parents!
"What time is it?" I suddenly shot out of his arms and sat up, dragging the duvet with me to cover my nakedness and I leant over to my old Mickey Mouse alarm clock that I still used. "It's 10.32!" I gasped. I couldn't remember the last time I'd slept so long – why did it have to start today? "Ron!" I nudged him. He grunted at me, he'd already closed his eyes again. "We have to get up, my parents could be home any minute!" I shrieked, fighting with the duvet and sheets to get out of bed.
I rushed to my bedroom door and grabbed my dressing gown to pull over my naked body. Ron hadn't moved, but I did turn back to find him watching me from the bed and the frown he gave when I'd pulled the garment over my nakedness.
"Ron!" I shouted at him. "I'm serious, you need to move it, now! We have to get dressed and tidy this place up." I cast a glance around my room at our clothes littering the floor. His underwear on my bedroom floor caused strange feelings in my belly. "And I'll need to wash my sheets and...oh, please move Ron!"
He gave me a slow, lazy grin from the bed. "You worry too much!" he mumbled through a yawn.
"Oh yeah? We'll see who's worrying too much if my Dad comes home and finds you naked in his only daughter's bed!"
His eyes flew open at that, staring at me in horror before he shot out of bed and reached for his underwear off the floor all in one movement so fast he almost fell out. I fought back laughter, because really that scenario wasn't so funny – my Dad would probably throw Ron out of the house and ban him from ever seeing me again if he thought he'd defiled his innocent daughter. Never mind the fact I was of age and had initiated it.
"I'm going to shower real quick. Get dressed!" I told him, picking up my towel that hung over my desk chair and hurried for the bathroom.
I was out and dried in record time, when I rushed back to my room for some clothes, my hair still dripping down my back, I found Ron already dressed and sitting on the perfectly made bed. His hair was still all mussed up and I allowed myself a second to admire it, knowing my own fingers had caused some of that.
"Thanks," I mumbled, rummaging in my drawer for clean knickers and a bra. "But you didn't need to, I'll have to strip the bed and wash everything. I can't have Mum finding out that way. And..."
"I took care of it," Ron came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. "I used a spell, got rid of all...evidence. Don't worry." he kissed my cheek.
"Oh." Why the hell hadn't I thought of using magic? Panic, I told myself. Plus the fact that I didn't use magic so much when I was home – especially not after Australia. It made Mum and Dad a little uneasy. "Well, thank you." I smiled, kissing his cheek briefly before pulling out some clothes.
He gave me a little wry grin and stepped back. "Let me fix this for you too," he pointed his wand at my hair and I almost freaked out. But then he muttered an incantation and instantly it was dry and far less of a mess than it had been before. "I'm just going to use the loo. Be right back," he told me.
Less than half an hour after we woke, we were sitting downstairs in the kitchen consuming a simple breakfast of tea and toast as we sat opposite one another, sharing goofy grins. My parents hadn't phoned yet nor turned up home, but should they arrive any moment and questioned why we were both here, we'd already come up with a feasible story and Ron had transfigured his clothes so it looked like he'd been home where he changed.
Ron was cleaning up from breakfast whilst I was feeding Crookshanks, when I heard the car in the driveway. I froze, staring at Ron.
"Relax," he told me, kissing the top of my head – an advantage of him being taller than me. "If you look so tense they'll know something happened and I could do without an arse kicking from your Dad!" he chuckled. I didn't find it funny. "They won't know anything you don't tell them." He added hurriedly as the front door opened.
"Mum? Dad?" I called, heading down the hallway to greet them and find out how Aunt Jean was.
"Hermione? I didn't expect you to be here, dear." Mum replied. She was alone, shaking the snow off her coat and hanging it up.
"I wanted to know how Aunty Jean was. And Ron insisted on coming back with me." I lied far too easily and felt guilty about that. I had a feeling my Mum wouldn't be too upset to learn her 19 year old daughter was no longer a virgin. She knew I was old enough, she knew I'd be sensible about it and she knew how I felt about him and that he loved and respected me. But, I wasn't going to set the cat among the pigeons.
She sighed and wandered through to the kitchen, melting into a chair at the table. I followed behind her. "Her ankle looked terrible this morning, so we finally convinced her to go to the hospital. Your Dad is still there with her. Looks like she's broken it, I'm afraid."
"Oh dear," I sat down beside Mum and patted her hand comfortingly. She looked rather worn out.
"I just came back for some clothes. At least one of us is going to have to stay with her a few days since she can't get about by herself and since your Dad is needed at work this week, looks like that responsibility falls on me." She sighed deeply. I knew Aunt Jean wasn't her favourite person – she could be rather cantankerous, but she was family and Mum would do it for Dad.
"Can I...erm...can I make you some tea, Mrs Granger?" Ron asked, politely.
"That would be lovely Ron. Thank you. And thank you for being here for Hermione." She added as he busied himself with the teapot.
"Oh, he wasn't here Mum. I mean, yes he's been here for me, but we were at the Weasleys last night. We only came back here about erm, an hour ago, and..." I caught Ron shaking his head behind Mum and stopped myself from rambling.
Mum gave us both a puzzled look. "Well, I'm just glad you weren't alone. And I'm sorry to say we'll probably spoil the rest of your school holidays now with your Dad and I missing to look after her. I doubt it will be much fun for you and I don't want you spending your Christmas holidays alone. So I was wondering if you would like to go and stay at Ron's house for a few days?" She suggested. "That is if your parents won't mind, Ron?" She turned to ask him.
"Sounds good!" He readily agreed, placing a cup of tea in front of my Mother. "Mum will love having you over." He gave me a wide grin and a surreptitious wink over her head.
"That's settled then." She nodded and took a sip of her tea. "You'll go stay at Ron's, for a few days at least? I'll make sure we do something special before you have to go back to school." She promised me.
I smiled and gave her a hug. "Thanks Mum."
"Anyway, did you two have a fun night last night? Get up to anything interesting?" She nonchalantly asked us as she drank her tea.
"What?" I gasped, staring panic stricken at Ron who had flushed as red as I felt. "We, erm...we didn't. I mean, we just..."
"Nothing!" Ron gulped and pretended to be washing our plates that he'd already done.
Mum cast us both a curious glance. "I thought you said you were watching a movie?"
"Oh yeah. But...you know, nothing special Mum." I eventually replied, going over to dry the dishes for Ron so she couldn't see my face. He nudged me and gave me a smirk when he caught my eye. I pulled a face at him and whilst Mum was busy finishing her tea and checking her mobile, probably for messages from Dad, Ron leant over and kissed my cheek.
"Nothing special huh?" he whispered.
I smiled at him, a full on soppy grin. Oh, no, nothing special...only the most incredible night of my life so far, I smiled to myself.
Thank you to the 6 people who bothered to review last time - means a lot! I know getting reviews is basically a popularity contest here...those with tumbler pages etc and loads of followers and are well known to fanfiction writers/readers are going to always get more than a relative newbie who has no friends.
But...reviews mean a lot to ALL writers and we appreciate the time you take to leave a couple of words. I write for my personal fun and to escape into this world. I take the time to upload, edit and post to see what others think of my writing.
Please consider that when reading a story. Thank you and I'll post another one soon x