Hermione lifted the bottle and pressed it to her lips, watching as the drink within fought the little air to escape out the top, sloshing and bubbling before sliding into her waiting mouth. She closed her eyes and took four deep mouthfuls, shivering slightly as she withdrew the bottle. Sighing Hermione looked around the kitchen. It wasn't huge, but it fitted the whole Weasley family – including Fleur, Harry, herself and all the kids – with just a little room left to move. She truly loved her kitchen. She just wished she still loved her partner, who she mostly cooked for.
Thinking of him she lifted the bottle to her lips once again and finished the bottle in record time. She was always careful to make sure that alcohol would not get her drunk, but it would do what she needed right now. It would relax her, and it would help her to find brief joy in between the sheets and with her partner once again. Taking her time, she threw the bottle away and, with an extremely deep sigh, made her way up to the bedroom.
The house was a three storey building, the rooms were large without being overwhelmingly large, but many of them were bare, with only the absolute necessities within them. Hermione often felt that she lived in a hotel. But until she bore children, it could not be helped. And it made the perfect place to host Christmas, there was more than enough room and no one had to be juggled between bedrooms, like the Weasley's did some years.
The bedroom Hermione shared was on the second floor; it was the second largest room in the house – her study/personal library being the first – and had a large window that faced the back garden. In the early days of their relationship together in the house, they would often pretend they had an audience of strangers sitting on the window seat, or they would give the pervy muggles next door a good show. But those days were long gone. As was their romance.
To Hermione it felt all too soon before she was facing the doorway. She took another deep breath and opened the door. Inside it was dim. She and her partner each had three fat candles on their bedside tables, and he'd lit them all, allowing them to be the only light to light the room. She has used to think it romantic, seeing those candles once filled her with joy and expectations, but now they had a different meaning to her. They meant sex with a person that she did not love.
"There you are." He was standing next to the bed, wearing only sweats. Even though she no longer had feelings for him, she appreciated that he'd kept his body in good shape, making it easier for her to do this. He was strong, and all his muscles well defined.
While Hermione was observing his body, she could feel his eyes roaming her own body. She was dressed in only a lacy black bra and matching G-string, there wasn't much he couldn't see right now.
"I didn't think you would come." She looked into his eyes, his were on her breasts.
"I need this just as much as you do. I'm only human, Ronald." Ron nodded.
"Tomorrow, neither of us are working. We will talk tomorrow, since we need to sort our shit out." He waited for her nod of agreement before he continued, "For now then, come here." And he held his hand out.
Biting her tongue she walked over to him and placed her small, pale hand within his own large, tan one. His fingers closed over her hand and he yanked her towards him, forcing her body against his. She could feel both of his hands slide up her arms before sliding down her body, only stopping when they were both covering her ass. He kneaded her ass cheeks, forcing her lower body to press against his, making her feel his still growing erection and totally eliminating any space there had been between us.
"Place your hands on my chest," he growled. She complied, not enjoying this, but needing the sex.
"Now kiss me, Granger." Hermione took one last deep breath and did so. She felt, rather than heard, his moan. His hands started roaming again, his hands sliding up her sides to her rib cage, then around so that he could palm her breasts. She kissed him harder, wanting this to be over already.
But instead of matching her kiss, like usual, he pulled away. He watched his own hands push her bra cups down, freeing her breasts without having to actually remove her bra.
Lazy bastard. She thought angrily.
Then, he bent his head, and placed his lips on one of her nipples, and one hand on the other, kissing, teasing and pulling at them. Hermione arched her back, pushing herself closer to him.
She felt his free hand running down her stomach, gently scraping his nails on her smooth skin. His fingers met the fabric of her knickers and, without pause, his fingers found their way under the fabric, and cupped her sex.
Without warning, his mouth and hand left her nipples, so that his only hand touching her was the one inside her knickers. Hermione looked up at him, biting her lip softly, a habit of hers when she was thinking, or, in this case, trying to figure out what Ron's intentions were. He looked down at her, his face blank, but his eyes wild with lust. Neither of them moved, except for their chests rising and falling, just looking at each other.
Finally, he moved. But he moved his hand away from Hermione. She looked at him, confused, while he walked towards the bed. He didn't look at her again until he was lying on his back on the bed.
"Come fuck me." Hermione scrambled onto the bed and quickly removed his sweats and her own underwear. She did stop for two seconds to just look at him, lying on his back, with his long member hard and waiting for her. He wasn't big by any standards, so she guessed was still as tight as she was when they first fucked, but he got the job done. And he did it well.
He gripped himself and held his member straight up, silently telling her to get on with it. Hermione wasted no time in placing each knee on either side of him, positioning herself over him, and slowly sliding herself down on him.
God, it's been too long. That feels good! She thought to herself.
He groaned under her and started thrusting deeper into her. Hermione threw her head back and raised her hands up to her breasts, now teasing her nipples herself.
Hermione head Ron groan, then his hands gripped her ribs and pulled her against his chest before flipping her onto her back. Then Ron really started moving. Faster and faster, in and out. Their breathing matching, both of them panting heavily.
"Come for me, Granger!" And she did. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her back arched as her came around him. As she came, Ron grunted out in pleasure, coming inside of her.
Thank god I'm infertile. She thought to herself, as his seed filled her.
Ron didn't collapse on top of Hermione, he knew that she didn't like it in the slightest. He rolled off her and lay on his side next to her. Seconds later they were both asleep. Not once did Hermione make a sound of pleasure.
"Hermione?" She looked up from her coffee.
"No, Ron, I can't do that." Ron's face fell.
"The sooner we tell the others, the better. We can't have another Christmas pretending to still be madly in love, it'll kill us, and whatever chance at friendship we've got left."
"Then I'll go away somewhere." Ron shook his head sadly. They both knew it wouldn't really work, not under the scrutiny of Molly Weasley.
"Hermione, we're fuck buddies, we can barely stand each other anymore, as it is you have to get drunk before you can get anywhere near me!" He was getting angry. Hermione hung her head in shame. She hadn't realised he'd known about her drinking. At least, she'd hoped he hadn't.
"We need to stop pretending, Hermione. We need to tell my family. We need to properly, finally, break up, live apart from each other. Maybe take a shot at being friends again, not be fuck buddies anymore!"
"Alright! I'll find a place of my own. But please, don't make me tell the others!" Hermione looked into Ron's eyes, tears threatening to spill over. His expression and tone softened.
"Hermione, this place is yours, remember? It's all in your name. It's me that needs to find a new place. And I'll tell everyone. I'll tell them it's a mutual decision … and if they still want to talk to you, they need to owl you first. OK?" Hermione nodded gratefully.
"Thanks, Ron." she paused briefly.
"You don't have to move out. We can split the house in half, cast silencing charms so we can't hear each other, maybe even make a second front and back door." He considered this for a moment. Finally he nodded.
"That sounds good. Much easier than trying to find another place, at the least." Hermione smiled in relief and drained her coffee.
"I'm heading to Diagon Alley to get some clothes and new books; did you want to come with me?" Ron hesitated, obviously choosing his words carefully.
"I'll come with you part of the way, I'll be stopping at the Leaky Cauldron, I've … I've got a date today." Hermione felt her face go blank in shock. Her stomach dropped, and selfishly her first thought was; Where can I get a shag from now? Before she felt elation and had a quick follow up thought of; I'm finally free! I can find someone to love!
"That's great, Ron! Do I know her?" Ron blushed.
"It's Luna Lovegood." Hermione smiled and laughed, lighter than she had been for years.
"Well, I hope you have a good time!" Ron smiled, obviously relieved that Hermione hadn't hexed him.
"It's the first time I've been on a date since … since us, Hermione. Are you OK with it?" Hermione smiled and rose from the table.
"Ronald, we officially broke up three years ago. You're free to do as you please! Now, I'm getting my bag and shoes and I'll be ready to leave." Ron smiled and stood up, and together they walked up the stairs.
Standing in what used to be their shared bedroom, Hermione looked over at Ron.
"Just please don't bring her here, Ronald. Not until we've split the house and have everything sorted." Ron nodded.
"Of course, Hermione. I promise."
As they were walking out the door together, Hermione realized that today was the most civil they'd been to each other since they'd first broken up almost three years ago.
Smiling widely, Hermione thought to herself, I have a good feeling about today.