Written for the inaugural Ron and Hermione Big Bang. This story would not have been possible without the talents and patience of an incredibly gifted crew: urbanmama, undercloackkept, my BFF and #1 cheerleader Dove!

CHAPTER ONE

I feel like a freaking caged animal.

Worse than that.

An animal in a cage has room to pace – I can barely find room to breathe.

I'm trapped in this effing train station, with what feels every other family in the Wizarding world. If I weren't so anxious, I'd find the whole thing a frigging laugh. All these witches and wizards trying to pass themselves off as Muggles, while trying (but mostly failing) not to stare at 'The Chosen One' as he stands here with us – I even hear an occasional "That's Ron Weasley!" I can't be arsed to care about being recognised right now. I'm just waiting here like everyone else.

Waiting for the Hogwarts Express.

Waiting for that fucking train.

"Where is that fucking train?"

"Ronald!" I hear my mum shriek. Shit, must have said that out loud.

"Relax Mum," George intercedes, "he's just anxious is all." Throwing an arm around my shoulders, he whispers, "and more than gagging for it I'd wager."

"Shut up you wanker!" I hiss.

"Seems to me you're the wanker here, Mr. Blue Balls."

I hear Harry snigger at George's comment, earning him a sharp glare, which is not too effective (really, how scary can your best mate be after you've stared evil in the face and practically spit at it – but I still gotta try).

"Hermione's parents are right there, so shut up!" I say in my most menacing whisper. I chance a glance at Mr and Mrs Granger, where they are standing talking to my dad. Actually, looks like he's doing all the talking while they just stand there nodding politely. God, I hope he's not explaining his theory on aeroplanes again.

As luck would have it, Mr Granger looks over at this exact moment. I give him what I hope is a friendly smile, one that says 'Hey, I'm a nice bloke – not some perv who dreams of doing all kinds of things with your only daughter, and has already managed to convince her to let me try a fair few of them already.' Not that Hermione needs much convincing.

Must not have worked, all I get in return from Hermione's father is a curt nod. What the hell's that look about? Hermione's parents have always been right friendly towards me. I don't have much time to dwell on Mr Granger's behaviour, because George gives me an elbow to the ribs. "There she is!" he shouts.

Finally!

I feel my heart jump into my throat — and promptly crash down to my feet when all I see is a blur of red hair rush past me and into my best mate's arms, no bushy brown hair in sight.

"Harry!" Ginny squeals as she launches herself at Harry, kissing him hard on the mouth.

"Oi!" George shouts, causing them to break apart. I can't help but laugh.

How do you like being interrupted from a snog you've waited forever for? Not too fun, is it Potter?

"You mind taking a break from swallowing our sister's tongue long enough for us to say hello?" George asks, causing Mum to hiss and Dad to blush.

Harry flushes and steps back, staring at the train station floor. "Um, er, right … sorry," he mutters.

I immediately jump in front of Ginny before anyone else can get their hands on her. "Where's Hermione?"

"Nice to see you too, Ron. I really appreciate your congratulations on my finishing Hogwarts. My NEWTS went well, thanks for asking," Ginny replies with a falsely sweet smile on her face.

I pull her roughly into a hug. Not that I don't love my sister and am not glad she's back – but, damn, she can be a brat.

"Yeah, yeah, congrats," I pat her on the back (not too hard, Mum's watching), "'m sure you did fine." I hold her by her slight shoulders and stare down at her. "Now, where's Hermione?"

Ginny just rolls her eyes at my attempt to look intimidating (remind me to work on my glower). "She's still on the platform, probably be the last through the barrier I reckon, says it's her final duty as Head Girl to make certain everyone is off the train and properly sorted."

"Sounds like your 'Head Girl' all right, eh Ron?" George said, emphasising Hermione's school title with a lascivious laugh, as he pushes Ron me to give Ginny a much warmer greeting than I managed.

More and more students are exiting the barrier, in their orderly groups of twos and threes. The crowd is full of people welcoming their loved ones.

Where the fuck is my loved one!

"Sod it! I can't take this anymore." I push my way through the crowd, leaving the Grangers and my family standing gobsmacked behind me.

I pass through the barrier onto Platform 9¾, where I'm immediately pulled aside by a more senior Auror. "Weasley! What are you doing here? You aren't on duty."

Fuck!

"I've a message for the Head Girl about the, uh, student roster," I lie, hoping Auror Johnson doesn't know about my relationship with the Hogwarts Head Girl.

"She's at the end of the Platform, talking with Ainsley. Head Boy's right there," Johnson says with a jerk of his head toward the queue of students waiting to exit the platform, "rounding up the sprogs, if you wanna pass him the message."

I look over and easily spot the swotty Ravenclaw from Ginny's year who served as Head Boy. Pompous Arse. His name might be Andrew Lewis, but to me he is simply Pompous Arse.

And no, it's not some irrational jealousy that he was Head Boy with Hermione. He really is a Pompous Arse.

I swear.

"No can do, gotta give it to Hermio– er, Miss Granger."

Johnson laughs – and smiles (both exceedingly rare occurrences) – "Oh, I'm sure you have plenty to give to Miss Granger." He waives his hand at me. "Off with you then, you've kept your young lady waiting long enough."

So much for my love life being any kind of a secret. No time to worry about that now.

"Um, okay then … cheers." I make my way around the crowd of students and run down the platform toward the end of the train. I spot Hermione standing with her back to me, talking with another senior Auror.

Damn, she looks good! Mmmm … still in uniform.

Just as Auror Ainsley steps back on the train, Hermione turns around, a broad smile instantly lights her face when she sees me.

"What are you doing here?" she laughs as I rush forward and easily pick her off the ground. I love that I can do that.

"Couldn't wait," I mumble before capturing her mouth.

It's about fucking time!

It's not that I haven't seen her since she left for school in September. We've actually been pretty lucky, what with Hogsmeade visits and Quidditch matches (to finally get to take her in the Quidditch tent – years worth of wanking dreams come true!), holidays and the like.

But now she's home.

This isn't a quick visit or a shag against the wall hoping no one spots us.

We made it. This fucking awful year is over and we made it! She's home to stay, and she's mine.

And I'm kissing her like a condemned man having his last meal before the Dementors have at him.

I know I should be gentle. I know I should be tender. But there's a time for those kinds of kisses – and this isn't it.

Hermione obviously agrees since she's kissing me back with just as much passion.

As always.

"We really shouldn't do this here," she pants as she kisses my jaw, moaning when I reach down to grab her arse, pulling her harder against me.

She might have a point.

"C'mon," I tug on her hand and we stumble over to hide behind one of the columns lining the platform. I press Hermione back on the rough bricks, safely out of sight from the Hogwarts Express.

"This better?" I ask, not bothering to wait for a reply before finding her lips once again.

I push my hard cock against her hip, my leg pressing between hers; she feels so good against me, her soft body yielding to mine. She wraps one knee-sock-clad leg around my calf and presses back, humming her approval into my mouth and rubbing herself along my thigh.

"Can't believe you're finally home … fucking missed you so much." Her hair muffles my voice as I kiss my way from one side of her neck to the other, stopping to tongue the hollow of her throat the way she likes.

Her skin tastes so fucking good!

"Gonna lick every inch of you," I groan.

"Promise?" Hermione asks, tilting her head back to give me better access, while clutching wildly at my back – trying to bring our bodies even closer. Can't get much closer with clothes on, I'm afraid.

Fuck yeah, I promise. Before I can tell her, the Hogwarts Express lets out a loud whistle accompanied by a huge blast of steam, causing us both to jump. Through the fog in my brain, I hear a conductor yelling, "All clear!"

Hermione reluctantly untangles her leg and I remove my hand from under her skirt. I'm going to miss this uniform. Wonder if I can get her to wear it again for me some time – relive old times and all…

Quit it, Weasley! Now is NOT the time!

I lean my head against the wall over Hermione's shoulder, trying to think of something to calm my raging stiffy before my mum sees it.

Mum.

Yep, that did it.

"We – we should go," Hermione says breathlessly.

"Yeah … yeah, you're right. Our parents–"

"Oh no! My parents…"

"Don't worry, Dad's been keeping 'em company," I assure her. Not that the Grangers seemed too thrilled with the idea.

"Then we really better hurry," Hermione says with a smile.

"Oh ho ho, aren't you a funny one."

I give her kiss on the nose before grabbing her hand and heading back toward the train. "Where's your stuff?"

"On the trolley over there." She points to the solitary luggage trolley loaded with her trunk, Crookshanks' carrier sitting on top. I bend down so I'm face to face with Hermione's cat.

"Still alive I see." Crookshanks responds with a loud hiss. Bloody typical. Too fucking bad for him. I lean in closer and tell the fur ball, "Better get over it mate, I'm not going anywhere."

"When you're done tormenting my cat, we can get going." Hermione says as she smacks me on my bum.

"Oi woman, mind your hands!"

I hold of the trolley's handle and steer it toward the portal to the Muggle portion of Kings Cross Station, practising my intimidating glare on Crookshanks as we go.

Just before we cross through, Hermione stops and tugs on my elbow. "I love you, Ron," she tells me in response to my questioning look. "Thank you for waiting for me."

Thank me? Mental, this one.

"Least I could do – you waited seven years for me to get my head out of my arse – one year away at school seemed like a fair trade-off to me." Hermione shakes her head and laughs. I pull her into arms and kiss the crown of her head. See? I can be gentle.

"Besides," I tell her, "it's all over; now we can do whatever we want."

"I like the sound of that." Hermione burrows herself tighter into my arms. I want to freeze this moment.

Unfortunately my stomach doesn't agree; it lets out a loud gurgle.

"And right now, I want food apparently. C'mon, let's go find our family."

Our family. Is that right?

Well, Hermione's my family, no doubt about that; so I guess my parents and siblings plus her parents together make up our family. I like the sound of that. Not that I'll tell anyone – a man's gotta have some dignity.

She links her arm through mine as I push the trolley through the wall … to be instantly greeted by my shrieking mother.

"There you are! The last students passed through ages ago – well, never mind," she gives a dismissive wave of her hand, "you're here now." Mum wraps her arms tightly around Hermione. "Welcome home, dear."

I can see my siblings sniggering in the background. I'm just about to say something to shut them up, when I spy the scowls on the faces of Hermione's parents.

What the hell? Maybe I'm imaging things? I have been known to exaggerate things every now and then.

Once Hermione's finished being smothered by my mum, she steps forward to give her own mum a hug.

The welcome Hermione receives from her parents is less restrained, but no less loving. At least the scowls are gone. Soon Hermione is jostled and passed among various Weasleys as they welcome her home. George and Dad head off, with Mum in tow, to load Ginny's trunk in the Ministry car they borrowed.

"I'm going to miss seeing you everyday, Hermione," Ginny says as she gives Hermione a squeeze. "Who's going to make certain I keep my room clean while I'm away at training camp?"

"I'm sure you can manage on your own," Hermione laughs. Her voice starts to crack when she adds, "Thanks for everything, Ginny. I couldn't have made it through this year without you." I wrap her tiny hand in mine and squeeze, wanting to remind her it's all behind us.

"I'm so proud of you, Hermione," Harry says when it's his turn to hug Hermione. Stepping back, he asks, "You all coming to the Burrow for dinner?"

"No, we won't be joining you," Mr Granger responds. "As I explained to Arthur, we have other plans."

"But Dad–" Hermione starts, looking surprised. So am I, I thought we had this all worked out.

"We have reservations for the three of us at the Ivy - you know how difficult those are to come by, Hermione," Mrs Granger explains, giving me a quick glance. "It's been so long since your father and I have had you to ourselves, darling." She took Hermione's hand. "Surely you understand."

"Of course, it's just…" Hermione looks over at me … torn between her parents and me.

"Perhaps you could all get together tomorrow evening?" Mrs Granger offers.

Okay, I know I did not imagine that frown Mr Granger just gave at her suggestion. And I can't see Hermione tomorrow night. Bugger!

"Um, actually, Harry and I are both on duty tomorrow – double shifts," I say, dejected. "We were lucky to get today free, it took some juggling."

If only … hey, I've got it!

"What about Sunday, Hermione? I'm off all day; we could go to the Burrow for breakfast and then spend the whole day together!" And I can take you up to the orchard and we can shag each other senseless like we did last summer.

"Oh that would be brilliant, Ron. I'd love that!"

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," Mr Granger interjects again.

Now I'm getting pissed off.

"Why not?" Hermione shouts. Apparently so is Hermione. That's my girl.

"Calm down, dear," Mrs Granger soothes. "We were going to tell you at dinner … we've arranged for a holiday–"

"Now?" Hermione's annoyance with her parents is increasing at a frenetic pace.

I try to catch Harry's eye, to see if he's picking up these hostile vibes from the Grangers, but Harry is busy in conversation with Ginny.

I tune back into Hermione's confrontation with her parents, just in time to hear her say, "It's not that I don't appreciate the gesture, Mum, but I start at the Ministry in two weeks … I have so much to do to prepare."

Wise move to play up the job angle; her parents usually give in to her desire to work hard.

"And there's … Ron," Hermione adds meekly. Uh-oh.

"I'm sure Ronald will be here when we get back from France," Mr Granger says sharply. "I've already paid the Pendergasts for the use of their villa so this discussion is moot. We leave for Antibes Sunday morning."

Hermione looks ready to explode at her father's tone, but before she can, Harry interjects. "Hermione, a bunch of us are getting together later tonight at the Leaky," he says.

"We are?" I ask – only to be jabbed in the side by Ginny. "Ow."

"Why don't you join us after dinner with your parents?" Harry continued, ignoring me and Ginny's antics. "George will be there, probably Neville… "

"That would be lovely, Harry. Thank you." Hermione shoots her father a pointed glare. "I will definitely be there … say 10:00?"

"Excellent, see you then." Harry turns to Hermione's father, "Can I give you a hand with Hermione's things? I know Crookshanks can be quite a handful." He doesn't even wait for Mr Granger to respond, he simply takes charge of the trolley and starts walking toward the exit, Mrs Granger and Ginny trailing behind.

I owe him one.

"I'm so sorry Ron," Hermione apologises, wrapping her arms around me. "I had no idea they had something like this planned."

"It'll be nice for you to get away, get some sun." I try to sound supportive. "We'll see each other tonight … maybe pick up where we left off earlier, yeah?"

Please let us pick up where we left off.

"Mmm, I like the sound of that. Can't wait to see your new flat." She looks up at me, a teasing smile on her face, "I hope you cleaned your room."

"Clean sheets and everything," I tell her proudly, causing her to laugh.

Not really worth mentioning Kreacher's the one who cleaned it. 'Sides I paid him … well, I mean, I offered to pay him. Not my fault he wouldn't take it.

"Come on," I take her hand and head out of the station, "the sooner we get you off with your parents, the sooner I can get you all to myself."

The sooner we can dirty those sheets of mine.

So, what did you think? Please let me know! ~Mugglemama