Disclaimer:
I do not own anything about the Harry Potter book series. Not the plot, not the places, not the characters, etc. They all belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling and I do not any in way, shape, or form intend to pass them off as my own.

Author's Note:
Rated M for suggested adult themes.
If you have any questions and/or comments please leave them in a review. Beneficial criticism, whether it is good or bad, is welcome. If you spot any grammar errors please notify me as well; I'm not the best whenever it comes to proof reading. Thank you for reading! =]
- Kelly

With Him
~** A Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger Drabble **~
As told from Hermione's point of view…

With him I feel so secure. I always feel the safest whenever he is around. I know that he will protect me from all things bad and horrid. I secretly adore the way he won't let another man get within a five feet radius of me. If I hear or feel like someone is downstairs he will kiss me gently, tell me not to go anywhere, and goes to see if there actually is an intruder. I can't help but smile as he wraps his strong arms around me in bed at night, kissing my forehead, holding me close to his heart. Nothing can get me. No one can hurt me.

With him I feel so beautiful. He tells me so everyday, but it's more that his actions prove his words are true. I crave for the way he looks at me whenever I enter the room – his blue eyes only on me and his gaze somewhat hazy with a sheepish grin. Part of me gets a little thrill whenever he jealously accuses a man of looking me over while we're out at a restaurant. And I absolutely love the way he stares down at me as we make love; he watches me with such tender orbs like he never wants to see anyone else in this state beneath him. He makes me seem like a goddess, like a rare treasure.

With him I feel taken care of. As I lie in bed home from work ill, he will stay home also tending to me until I make him get some sleep. Once a month every month on a Sunday he will wake up earlier than me to fix me breakfast in bed. After a long day when nothing seems to have went right he will hold me close whispering sweet sentences into my ear, rubbing my back and stroking my hair. When our children cry with woe throughout the night he comforts them softly because he won't let me move from under the blanket – he thinks that I work too hard as it is. He calls me his baby and I am.

With him I feel so powerful. I smile when he tells me at dinner that my pasta is actually ten times better than his mum's (then he makes me swear I won't tell her anything about it). I feel incredibly smart after he tells me so once I've helped him with his paperwork or I've helped the children with their homework. On those uncommon occasions when we do fight, behind closed doors I smirk at the tiny amount of fear noticeable on his face when I raise my voice. And when we have the make-up sex after an argument, I'm very fond of his vulnerable expression as I have my way with him.

With him I feel so happy. I could laugh for hours on end at the hilarious and adorable things that he does without even realizing it. If it weren't for him I never would wake up with a smile on my face every morning or have two precious children. The amount of pleasure he brings to me as he slowly thrusts into me, making us one as close as we could possibly get, is indescribable. The way he says my name with his deep rich voice always makes the sun shine a bit brighter. Just simply holding his hand makes electricity run through my veins, turning me into the giddy love drunk teenager I once was.

With him I feel on top of the world.

With him I feel at utter ease.

With him I feel unstoppable.

With him I feel like the luckiest girl.

With him I feel over the moon.

With him I feel accepted.

With him I feel loved.