Rain. Rain is what I heard when I first woke up. Rain like pebbles against the windows of Grimmauld Place. The first thing I saw was the gray sky outside the tear stained windows. The second thing I saw was the tear stained face of one George Weasley.
"Dreaming about Fred again?" I asked him. I knew the answer. It was always Fred. George didn't bother with a reply, instead he pressed his lips to my collar bone and I felt his need against my leg. His grief had made him insatiable, and I, Hermione Granger, was sleeping with the one Weasley brother I never thought I'd end up with.
We didn't start off like this, George and I. We were just two people, alone and in pain, who happened to live in the same house. Now he has my nipple in his mouth and a finger inside of me, all while Harry sleeps next door.
I remember how it happened, but I'm Hermione Granger, I remember all sorts of things. I remember the battle, as George puts a second finger in me. I remember the fire as I wrap my hand around his length. I remember the screams of our friends, while I try to bite mine back. I remember Dumbledore's funeral as George pulls his fingers out and reaches to put them in a place I still haven't become accustomed to. I remember Ron leaving us behind during the hunt when I see the look of satisfaction on George's face when I don't deny his experimentation. I remember Ron's kiss, as his brother bites down on my nipple. I remember Ron's betrayal; I remember my own betrayal, as George Weasley climbs inside of me and fucks me until neither of us can move.