They watched as Harry climbed the stairs to Gryffindor tower, and they were at last alone.
Ron put his arm around Hermione's shoulders, pulling her close. "Let's get out of here," he said.
She looked up into his eyes with a soft smile on her face. "Lead the way."
Hermione put her arm around his waist as they walked down a quiet corridor. It felt good to hold each other close, the warmth from their bodies mingling, soothing their aches and pains. As they became more and more relaxed, their bodies seemed to melt into each other. Hermione noticed that they fit together perfectly and let her mind wander, thinking of their bodies in other more intimate settings.
Ron had no particular destination in mind. He wanted to escape the echoes of death that seemed to be everywhere, if only for just a few moments. He felt the need to get Hermione as far from the destruction that surrounded them as possible.
They climbed stairs and took random turns and found themselves in an abandoned corridor that appeared to be untouched from the battle that had ravaged the floors below. Suddenly Hermione stopped and pulling Ron with her, they entered a dark and unassuming classroom. It appeared to be an unused charms classroom, probably due to its inadequate size.
"Professor Flitwick let me use this room to study in during O.W.L.S." Hermione said as she turned back towards Ron.
"Cozy."
"It was quiet and no one bothered me. Much better to concentrate in than the common room," she replied.
"I'm surprised you never asked Harry or me to join you here so you could drill us," he said smirking.
She laughed, "Please," rolling her eyes. "Getting you two to study was like pulling teeth. I did the best I could."
"And I appreciate all the effort. If it wasn't for you I would have flunked out of this place a long time ago. Seriously, you were the best thing that could have happened to me at Hogwarts."
"Better than making the Quidditch team?" she asked in a mock tone of surprise.
"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," he said and he took her hand and pulled her towards him. He hugged her then, and it felt like he was coming home.
She laid her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing.
"I love you," he said boldly, taking her by surprise. "I love that when you're happy you hum nonsensical melodies, and when you're angry you get this little line between your eyebrows. I love that you always have minty breath and when you lean close I can taste it on my lips. I love your stubbornness, and your hot-headedness, and the fact that you have a hell of a right-hook. I love that you always have a spot of ink on your little finger and when you think no one's looking you wet it with your tongue and try and rub it off. I know it's early to say it, I mean we just had our first kiss eleven and a half hours ago, but you're the one. You don't have to say it back, but I just wanted you know, you're…."
"Ron," she said, pulling back, interrupting his continuous rambling. "I love you too," she said tearfully. "I've loved you since I was thirteen years old. It's always been you."
There was a fire in his eyes that she couldn't miss. She looked at his mouth, it was slightly parted and she could feel his hot breath on her own lips. He leaned toward her, brushing a strand of her fly-away hair behind her ear, trailing his hand down her neck, letting it hover over her pulse point. Her small pink tongue came out to lick at her lips, and she felt a nervous sort of flutter building in her stomach.
"You were always smarter than me, braver than me, more confident. You kissed me first. But I'm going to kiss you now, in the hopes that you won't jinx me or curse me," he whispered.
She bit her lip and let out a small nervous giggle. "You love me, the least I can do is let you kiss me."
The air between them seemed to fill with anticipation. He bent his head, taking her lips in a slow, deep kiss. She rested her hands gently on his shoulders, sliding them up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. His lips were warm, firm and she found herself relaxing as she sighed into his mouth. His hands explored her back, drawing her close. Their lips moved together and the moment stretched on and on. His hands explored her body, caressing, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Her body was humming and she felt a little light-headed, as if she were floating. The logical side of her brain figured that was the purpose of a great kiss. Hermione rested her hands softly on Ron's chest, pushing gently. There was an intense look in his eyes that she had never seen before. His face alive with hunger and desire, and it only added fuel to the fire that was already building inside of her.
She leaned into him panting, "Got to catch my breath, I'm new at this."
He looked down shameful, thinking of all the time he had spent in the common room "practicing" with Lavender, for he was definitely not new at snogging. His mind wandered to all the times he had seen the hurt in Hermione's eyes or the times he had caught a glimpse of her retreating back, knowing that his public display of ridiculousness was both spiteful and upsetting to her. He had been an absolute ass.
She lifted his chin, guessing as to where his mind might be going. "Ron, what's wrong?"
"It should have been you," he said.
"What should have been me?"
"It should have been you from the start. I was jealous and angry at you for kissing Krum. I thought 'Why would she want to be with someone like me, if she could have an international superstar like Krum?' Instead of telling you how I really felt, I pushed you away by incessant arguing and throwing myself at the first person who showed any interest. I though that if I went out and kissed someone, I don't know…it turned out I was just as miserable, because it wasn't you."
"Ron, we were both immature. I did my fair share of picking and nagging. It's not like the arguments you're referring to were one sided. I was right there with you, masking my feelings with angry and hurtful words. I've let go of the Lavender thing. Was I hurt? Yes. But how were we supposed to be together, if we couldn't be honest with each other about our feelings? If we couldn't go a few hours without a squabble? I'm sure Harry must've really enjoyed being around us," she laughed.
She grabbed his face with her hands pulling him down to her eye level, resting her forehead on his and looked him right in the eye. "Today is a day for new beginnings and for celebration. Today is the beginning of us. You and I have been through too much to dwell on the past. And I'm not just talking about Horcruxes and battles, I'm talking about finding ourselves, growing up, growing together. Today is also a day for mourning, we've lost a lot. But damn it, I refuse to be sad or angry about us anymore, and I won't stand for it from you Ronald. Do you hear me?" She kissed him then, passionately, trying to put everything she felt for him into her kiss, trying to convey to him a promise of hope, a promise for their future.
They broke apart, both panting, clinging to the other for support. "Damn woman, I can't tell you how sexy and irresistible you are when you use your 'bossy' voice." She giggled and he nuzzled his face to her ear, trailing sloppy wet kisses down her neck.
She yawned, in spite of herself, for she was enjoying their activities far too much, regardless of the fact that they had been awake for the past forty hours. She could feel her body beginning to shut down.
"I think we should get cleaned up and get you to bed, you're dead on your feet," he said. He held her close for a moment, savoring the sweetness of the moment they had just shared. He shifted, leaving his arm around her waist, gathering her close by his side and steered them towards the door.
She leaned into him, resting her head on his arm, letting herself be guided by his warm, strong body. Hermione felt that what they had just shared; proclaiming themselves, setting the tone for their relationship, had somehow been like a rebirth. The dull ache in her heart she had had for the past four years was gone, and had been replaced by a feeling of completeness. She felt whole and at peace. She felt loved.
They made their way to Gryffindor tower, and she crawled through the portrait hole followed closely by Ron. The common looked the same as it ever had, with a roaring fire and soft looking couches and armchairs.
"Let's just use the boys' bathroom. I've got your clothes and some essence of dittany in my bag, we can heal each others' wounds in our towels and then just get dressed in the stalls," she said.
Ron was sure that to Hermione, what she had just said was perfectly logical and straightforward, but to Ron, it was the most erotic thing anyone had ever said to him. He was instantly hard at the thought of Hermione in a towel and his hands roaming her body, searching for scratches, scrapes, and burns. Sure he had seen her in a bathing suit every summer at the Burrow and even a towel for a few bliss filled seconds that one time she was heading to Ginny's room, having forgotten her clothes for the shower, but this was different. He could feel his ears burning and was sure she would notice the color slowly starting to spread through his face. He shook his head trying to focus on the present.
"Hermione, um…are you sure you want both of us to use the boy's bathroom? I don't think it's like the girls…we don't have shower stalls, it's just one big open area with shower heads spaced every few feet…" he trailed off trying not to let his mind wander.
"Oh," she said, thinking it over. "Well, I trust you not to turn around. And well, this sort of thing is quite normal for two people like us," she replied matter-of-factly.
"What thing? And what does that mean 'people like us'?"
"It's perfectly natural for a boyfriend and girlfriend to share an intimate experience like showering together," she said as a slight blush colored her cheeks.
Ron looked at her with wide eyes, speechless. She worried her bottom lip, thinking perhaps she had been too forward. "Is it too presumptuous of me to think I'm your girlfriend?" she said looking down.
"Well of course you're my girlfriend," he said taken aback.
She thought she heard a bit of possessiveness in his voice as he had said the words my girlfriend, and she couldn't deny that it sent a tingle up her spine to know that just as much as he was finally hers, she was his.
"I love you," she said with a smirk. Giving him a quick peck on the check, she turned on the spot and led the way up the stairs, she glanced back to as they climbed the stairs, a cheeky grin on her face, "I'll trust you not to peek."
He couldn't help but answer to her backside, which was swaying happily in front of his face. "Merlin's honor, I'll try my best."
They entered the spacious tiled room and Hermione noted a few toilet stalls and urinals lining the nearest wall, and on the far wall large shower heads spaced evenly as Ron had said. After a year of the shabby and dank tent bathroom, the dark and creepy fixtures in the bathrooms at Grimmauld Place, and sharing the tiny bathroom at Shell Cottage with nine people; this simple and spacious, ordinary school lavatory was paradise. The open and airy ceiling, the white tile and marble, the steady rhythmic dripping of a leaky faucet was both familiar and comforting. Hermione pulled the beaded bag from her sock, and rummaged around in it for some clean clothes for herself and Ron.
"Accio towels," she heard Ron say, as four white and fluffy towels zoomed towards him from a nearby closet. He pointed his wand at the showerheads and soon the room was filled with thick billowy steam.
"I'll just grab one of these," she motioned to the towels, "and undress in this bathroom stall over here. You hop in the shower and no peeking when I come out," she looked at him pointedly and closed the door behind her. "I found us some clean clothes so we can just throw these disgusting things away," she said from the stall.
Ron was trying hard not to think about the fact that the only thing separating himself from the sight of an undressing Hermione was a thin wooden door. He had to get a hold of himself or there'd be no hiding the raging erection that was growing in his snug black boxers. Trolls, my mother, Quidditch, potions class, Milicent Bulstrode… he thought as he tried to calm himself. His own nudity brought about a nervousness that seemed to work. He stepped into the shower and let the hot spray work out some of the tension in his tired and dirty face.
"I'm coming out!"
He closed his eyes, steeling himself, focusing on the in and out of his breathing. Soon there would be a wet and sexy woman ten feet away from him and two words came to mind: pure torture.
She stepped out of the stall and advanced towards the showers. If Ron had taught her anything, it was that rules were meant to be broken…not only did she peek at his gorgeous backside, but she took a long and slow inventory. He was firm everywhere. His heavily freckled and broad shoulders fell in a perfect vee to his waist, and his muscled behind was a thing of beauty that she yearned to sink her fingers into and squeeze. She stopped mere inches away.
"Ron," she said, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder.
"Yeah?" he said nervously, careful not to look at her.
"I don't want to hide from you, you can turn around."
He slowly turned, managing to keep his eyes on her face. "Are you sure? I don't want you to feel pressured into anything you don't want to do. I don't want to ruin this."
"I want you, and I trust you completely. I want…" she bit her lip.
"Anything," he said, looking into her eyes.
"I want you to touch me," she whispered as she laid her hand on his chest.
Closing the space between them, he picked up her hand from his chest. Holding her small soft hand in both of his, he brought it to his mouth and tenderly kissed each fingertip. He placed her hand back atop his heart, holding it tight to his chest. "I think I finally understand how the deluminator works. It was able to bring me back to you, because it knew I was missing my light…my heart…you." He kissed her hungrily, his hands rubbing down her back, resting on her ass, pulling her flush with his body.
Her hands glided over his slippery chest, and she felt his growing erection brush along her hip, her legs parted slightly by his hard thigh pressing between hers, and she could feel herself lifting into him, moving with his body.
He wanted her so badly he was itching in his own skin, but if they didn't slow things down soon he was going to lose it in about ten seconds. He pulled back, pausing to catch his breath. "Can I wash you?" he asked, a building look of desire in his eyes.
"Yes," she whispered.
Ron let go of her, and stood in front of the long shelf that held bottles of various shapes, containing assorted bath products. He lifted a few to his nose, sniffing and setting them back down. At last he settled for a curvy looking bottle that contained a golden and creamy looking elixir. He squirted a good amount into his palm and approached Hermione from behind. He worked his hands through her brown locks, massaging her scalp.
Closing her eyes, she savored the moment. "How did you know that's the shampoo I use?" she asked curiously.
He paused, putting his mouth to her ear, answering in a husky whisper, "I know all your smells."
Chills ran down her spine at his response, and she leaned into him. "I could get used to this."
"What, me washing you?" he chuckled
"Being loved…the washing is nice too though," she smirked.
Lightly kissing her shoulder, he guided her body into the spray of water and rinsed her sudsy hair clean. He went to the shelf and picked up a few more bottles before deciding on a turquoise and opalescent looking gel. A few minutes later his slick and soapy hands had been all over her body, doing quick work of getting her clean, scrubbing the dirt from battle off her face and arms, gently cleaning the wounds that were left behind. He slowed, his hands now lingering over her breasts, her belly, between her legs. His open mouth moved along her throat and shoulder as the water cascaded over her breasts. Her nipples were tight little buds when he brushed his fingers over and around them, teasing. "Let me rinse you," he whispered and moved her back into the spray. He turned her to face him then, his hands on her shoulders, kissing her sweetly on the lips, running his tongue along her lower lip before trailing delicate kisses along her jaw line, down her neck. His mouth moved along her collarbone, dragging his lips back and forth.
She ran her fingers through his ginger hair, urging him toward her breasts. She gasped as he cuddled one breast and closed his mouth over the other, sucking her nipple gently, his teeth nipping. She couldn't take it anymore, so when she found herself to be straddling his thigh for a second time, she arched into him and rocked back and forth, finding a rhythm that matched his sucking of her breast. She felt Ron's body still at her boldness, she could guess that he was hesitant to continue, not wanting to get carried away…but damn it, she wanted to get carried away! Hermione reached down and took his erection in her hand and gave it a squeeze. He groaned in approval, and Hermione stroked over him and felt him grow harder in her hold. She resumed the rocking of her pelvis, rubbing herself against his muscular leg, matching the rhythm of her hand as it stroked and squeezed the length of him. He placed his hands firmly on her ass, pulling her harder against him. They touched and kissed until their breathing was loud and ragged and their rocking movements desperate. The slow, delicious rhythm sent waves of pleasure right through her, right down to her toes. Hermione gave in to the ecstasy as she tumbled into an orgasm, shouting, "Don't stop, I'm coming!" Her shout of pleasure put Ron over the edge and he swore as he came in her hand. She collapsed onto his chest and they held each other close, satiated, spent. Ron wrapped his arms around her and kissed her sweetly, whispering against her lips, "I love you."
She kissed down the side of his face and nuzzled his neck, "I love you too," she whispered into his throat. She reached behind them and took the bottle of soap off the shelf. "My turn," she said with a mischievous smirk on her face.
They took their time drying each other, tenderly applying the essence of dittany to each other's wounds. They used careful, light touches, trying not to stir the arousal lying just beneath the surface, knowing they had to sleep. They dressed slowly and quietly, holding on to the last remaining minutes of their first intimate experience.
They returned to the common room, sitting side by side on the couch eating sandwiches Hermione had conjured from the kitchen. The room was warm and dark, the only light coming from the low burning fire next to them. When they had had their fill Ron cleared the platter and pulled Hermione down to lay next to him on the couch. She sighed when he reached for her and she shifted closer, until they were touching from shoulder to toes, her soft curves nestled against his hard flesh. They shared the same breath, their faces hovering inches apart, staring into each other's eyes.
Ron rested his hand on Hermione's hip, ensuring she wouldn't fall backwards off the sofa. He absently trailed his hand up and down her side, searching her face, her expression seemed faraway, deep in thought. "Hi," he whispered.
Her eyes focused, looking at him. "Hi," she replied, but her smile wobbled.
"What is it?"
"I was just thinking about Lupin and Tonks, about Fred…"
He looked down, closing his eyes, lips tense, the pain clear on his face as a tear trickled down his cheek. She reached out and stroked her hand across his cheek, resting it aside his face.
"Ron, I can't tell you how sorry I am. I can only begin to imagine the pain you're feeling right now. Whatever you need me to do, I can do it. I'll be there for you and your family."
He buried his face in her hair as he began to cry in earnest. She rubbed small circles on his back, crying with him. As his tears lessened, turning into hiccoughs, he finally looked up.
"Just being you is enough, being here with me now." He kissed her lips lightly.
"I'm exhausted," he yawned, shifting on the couch, pulling her body atop of his, resting one hand on the small of her back, the other on her ass. "You don't mind sleeping here do you? I don't think I could make it up the stairs," he said as closed his eyes. She smiled and nestled her head in the crook of his neck, drinking in his masculine scent.
"No, I don't mind at all." She closed her eyes, letting the rise and fall his chest lull her into a much needed slumber.
"I love you Hermione," she felt his chest rumble.
"I love you too, Ron," she whispered as sleep took her.