After the war was won, the Golden Trio decided to return to Hogwarts. Hermione found it a relief to put her considerable skill back into schoolwork rather than saving Wizarding Britain. When she wasn't perfecting her homework or building her platform on Muggle and Creature rights, she was, let's say, hanging out with her boyfriend—Ron Weasley.
Now someone might question how their relationship worked. After all, how do you take two people who are constantly fighting and expect them to have a strong romantic relationship? Well, there were a few factors that allowed them to stay together. Ron had become slightly more confident from all the accolades that came their way ever since the story of their journey to end Voldemort came out. This increase in self-worth along with Hermione's shift in focus to politics rather than her friends' homework allowed them to find out that they did enjoy each other's company.
Ron loved taking Hermione on long, soaring broomrides and feeling her arms around him tighten every time he took a slow dive. Hermione loved sharing the plethora of muggle stories she had learned in her childhood. Ron loved listening to Hermione's voice as she ran her fingers through his hair in front of the common room fireplace. And he loved making her laugh. And then, there was the sex.
The first time they did it, Ron set up a romantic evening and did all the clichés—nice dinner on the Astronomy tower, rose petals on the bed, wine, chocolate, and sweet murmuring throughout. What really struck Ron was that sex was the one thing that he might actually know more about than Hermione. He could tell because the whole time she was remarkably pliant and treated his soft suggestions as she treated facts from a decorated author. It was one of the times that Ron felt he had her full focus and intelligence trained on him, taking in and digesting his thoughts and opinions as if they were worth more than her own.
At first, this delighted Ron. But then he got a little worried. Was it really normal for a woman to spend a half an hour trying to figure out the best way to suck a dick? Did all females bend to the wishes of their partners? Ron, being the male teenager he was, went to the only one who he felt he could ask—his best friend, Harry.
Now Harry was not that experienced but Ron trusted him above anyone else—when it came to this kind of stuff anyways. So he decided he would ask him, the next time they hung out. Unfortunately, Ron didn't consider that every time they hung out, Hermione was with them. He had to figure out a way to get rid of her, discretely of course.
"Hey Harry. Let's go talk about Quidditch." Harry looked up. They were lounging in the Common Room.
"Why can't we just talk about Quidditch here?" he asked, looking very reluctant to give up his comfortable seat.
"Yeah, Ron. Why can't you just talk about Quidditch here?" asked Hermione. Her narrowed eyes let Ron know that she was on to him.
"Well I wouldn't want to bore you." Ron said as he walked towards Harry and yanked him out of his seat. "We all know how much you care about Quidditch. We're just looking out for you Hermione." Ron called out as he dragged Harry away. "Don't worry we'll be back soon."
Hermione rolled her eyes. Whatever. If Ron wanted to talk to just Harry that was fine. It wasn't like she didn't have secrets from him. Still, she had to force herself to not go after them.
"Ok, Ron. Now what was that about?" asked an annoyed Harry. He had just gotten into the perfect position on his chair where he wasn't too close to the fire but still pleasantly warm and comfortable. Now Ron was dragging him into the drafty hallway.
"Bloody hell, Harry. I just need some advice." Ron said. His face was slowly turning red.
"Um…sure, Ron. What do you need?" Harry was intrigued enough by Ron's demeanor to forget his annoyance.
"Well you see, it's Hermione"
"I figured. What's wrong? You guys seem to be getting along really well." In fact, Harry was surprised that he hadn't had to mediate a fight or act as a messenger owl while they were together.
"Well you see-, we um-, recently we did…the thing"
Harry just stared.
"Okay, so we had sex a few times." Ron rushed out, his face now completely red.
"Oh." Harry cleared his throat a few times. "With Hermione?"
"No, with McGonnagall. Of course with Hermione, you idiot!" Ron exclaimed.
"Ok, ok. Sorry. Wow. Well, hmm, wow. That's really good. I mean I'm assuming 'cause I never…you know. But I've heard it's good. For guys, anyways. Not that she couldn't have enjoyed it. I'm sure you're good. I mean I don't know but you probably don't suck. Er, that is…" Harry trailed off as Ron burst into laughter.
"Don't worry, mate. She seemed to enjoy it later." Ron smirked.
"Oh. So you did something? What did you do?" Harry was filled with a burning curiosity. For some reason, he felt he had to know what Ron had done to cause Hermione to enjoy herself during sex.
"Well, I kind of touched her there. I told her to put my finger where she wanted it and then I just rubbed. And you know—I talked."
"You talked?"
"Yeah, you know. Like, dirty talk."
"Wow. So how many times have you guys done it?" Harry was feeling weird. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. On one hand, he wasn't getting any, and living vicariously through Ron was the closest he was going to get. On the other hand, there was a sinking feeling in his stomach, a mixture of anger, annoyance, and sadness, that seemed to be creeping onto him.
"I don't even know. We do it like everyday."
"Everyday?!" Harry whisper-yelled.
"Yeah." Ron was smirking again. It wasn't an expression often seen on his face, but could be found after a particularly good Quidditch game.
"So what do you need advice on?" asked Harry, interrupting Ron's private smug-fest. He was getting more and more annoyed now, and he didn't like it. He wanted to celebrate Ron's successful relationship but for some reason, he also wanted to punch him in the face.
"Well, the sex is great and everything. But, Hermione becomes a different person every time we take off our clothes."
"How do you mean?"
"She's really, well, submissive is a good word for it."
"Like how?"
"Like, she seems to know all the technical stuff, but you really have to coax her to expressing herself. She's quiet. And she just listens to everything I say…"
Harry nodded, but he was barely listening. He was coming to a horrifying conclusion. He felt the same way that he had felt when he saw Ginny kissing Dean, but somehow just hearing about the sex Ron and Hermione had was even worse. He was…jealous of Ron. It was not a good feeling, and Harry suddenly felt a bit more sympathy for little Ron who was always jealous of Harry. That didn't stop him from wanting to punch Ron in the face though.
"…and she tried all of them. She tried every position I mentioned! I thought I was dreaming for sure…"
And, Harry thought, it didn't stop him from being…aroused. Just hearing about Hermione getting into different positions for Ron to take her put so many delicious images in his head.
"…so I was wondering if maybe it was a Muggle thing? Cause, you know Lavender was never like this. In fact, she was pretty much the opposite. But, of course it would be wrong to just assume that and no one knows Hermione better than us, so I thought I would ask you."
Harry had to shake himself out of a jealous and lustful daydream to remember what Ron was talking about.
"Oh, yeah. Er, to be honest, mate, I really don't know a whit about Hermione's sexual preferences. But I would say if it is really troubling you, then maybe talk to her about it?"
Ron just stared at him. "Are you kidding? There's no way I am asking her if she is sexually normal. She would probably use those bloody birds of hers to peck my brain out!"
Harry chuckled. "Yeah. You're probably right." Harry was feeling very confused and conflicted. He wanted to be a good friend, but he suddenly resented Ron. He wanted this conversation to be over. "Well, we better go back before Hermione gets suspicious."
"Yeah, you're right." Ron said. "Say, are you ok, Harry?" Ron was staring at Harry's tense posture and could tell he felt uncomfortable.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." Said Harry. Ron just stared for a long moment before giving a slow nod. Harry inwardly cursed. How could Ron be so oblivious when you wanted his attention but so shrewd when you wanted him to be oblivious. He was even unconsciously contrary! Harry knew he shouldn't bring it up, but really, when was he going to get another chance?
"So, how many times have you gotten her off?" Harry asked. He tried to regulate his voice so he didn't sound like a jealous, lusty, horrible friend perving on his best friend's girlfriend.
"Well…." Ron trailed off as he stared at Harry. After a long pause, he continued, "I would say 4 times. Not many. Not compared to how many times she's gotten me off."
"I see." Harry said. Unbeknownst to Harry, Ron noticed his fists clench. "Well that's not good is it? You should be reciprocating more. Who knows what she's thinking about that."
Ron was silent. He was a bit surprised that Harry was being so…vitriolic. And to be honest, he was hurt. Before he could craft a response, they were back at the portrait of the Fat Lady.
"Filibuster." Harry spoke the password quickly, and they climbed inside.
As Ron walked in, he noticed Hermione had fallen asleep. She was stretched out on one of the larger couches, a bit farther from the fireplace. Her hair was in more disarray than usual and her face was in the book she must have been reading before she fell asleep. Ron smiled as he moved towards her.
"Hermione." He whispered. "Wake up, Mione. Let's get you to bed." Hermione languorously sat up and yawned. Her cheek was creased from the book she had been using as a pillow, Ron noticed, as she leaned forward into his arms and closed her eyes.
"Don' wanna get up." She murmured. Ron rolled his eyes.
"Hey, Harry. Can you take her up? I'm still restricted from the girls' dorm." Ron had gotten banned a few weeks earlier when a swotty fifth-year prefect tattled on him coming in and out of the girls dorm with a decidedly rumpled when coming out. Harry still had the privilege of getting anywhere he wanted that the eighth-years had discovered they had. Apparently, the castle didn't consider them students anymore.
"No. Iss ok. I'm going." Hermione got up. Ron didn't miss the disappointed look on Harry's face as Hermione stole Ron's jacket he had been carrying in his arms, wrapped it around herself, and made her way up the stairs to the girls' dorms. "G'night"
"Goodnight, Mione."
"Sleep tight." Harry and Ron called out.
"Well, time to head to bed." Harry said. He wanted this weird and confusing day to be over already.
"Yeah. It's been a long day." Ron was longingly thinking about his warm bed and comfy pillow that smelled just a bit like pumpkin pastries.
"You've got that right."
Together the boys disappeared up the stairs to the boys' dormitories. Though there was a fission of tension between them that hadn't' been there before, anyone could have sensed the strong bond that existed between the friends for eight years.