"recites a disclaimer"


Hermione had invited Ron, Harry, and Ginny to stay at her muggle home for a month of the summer. Her parents had stayed in the house with them for a week, but after that they were off to celebrate their second honeymoon. Hermione secretly though this was sweet, but pretended to wretch when she caught them kissing or holding hands. She was happy to see them go as well, knowing her and her friends would have full run of the house for three weeks.

"We trust you," they'd said. "After the responsibility you've shown, we're not really worried."

She had positively beamed at their appraisal. This was something she'd worked for all her life. However, there was a teeny part of her that wished her parents would be just a little apprehensive. She wished they would be a little worried that she would go overboard with her freedom. That she might find her way into just a few youthful troubles. Like the stuff Fred and George were always getting into. She wished that once, just once, she could be the one receiving the lecture instead of the one delivering it.

"Hey," Ron muttered to her as he passed by her in the kitchen, not really looking her in the eye.

Hermione sighed, but not loud enough for Ron to hear. She loved him. Oh, how she loved him. But, they had been dancing around each other for a week already. It had started at the end of their sixth year. The night before they had to leave Hogwarts, Hermione had spontaneously kissed him. He didn't say much after that, leaving her alone in the common room, feeling hurt and rejected. It surprised her that he'd come to her house to stay there the summer. At first she suspected Harry and Ginny had pushed him into it, but both denied it under the threat of various hexes.

"Good morning!" Harry bounced into the kitchen, still in his pajamas, as everyone else was. He was wearing a stupid grin, and Hermione knew why when she saw the same expression reelected on Ginny's face as she pranced in behind him.

Ron's observation skills must have kicked in as well. In the morning? This must be a record or some sort, Hermione thought. His mouth, which he'd been planning on filling with cereal, gaped open.

"I hope you haven't been snogging my sister, Potter," Ron growled.

"Who said anything about snogging?" Ginny smacked Harry on the backside.

Ron made a loud noise of disgust before pushing away his cereal and scowling out the window next to him. Hermione suppressed a giggle, which caught in her throat when Harry opened his big mouth.

"Yeah, it's not our fault you passed up the chance to shag around." Harry paused, looking into the fridge. "With someone other than yourself, that is." He ducked as a cereal-filled spoon flew toward his head.

Hermione felt blood rising to her face. She watched Ron tipping his chair as he stood to storm out of the kitchen. His shoulders were angry and tense as he ran up over the stairs to the second story. Hermione had some idea of where he was going. The balcony.

It turned out to be Ron's favorite place in her house. There was a door in her bedroom that led to one of the house's two modest balconies. Hers had a magnificent view of London, which was breathtaking at night. Ron loved it. She sometimes woke in the morning to find him out there, seated on one of her puffy chairs, just staring out over the city. She'd joined him a couple times, the two of them just sitting there in silence until the others stirred.

Hermione bounded up the stairs after him, and padded down the carpeted hallway toward her bedroom. It was an impressive room by muggle standards, and not in size. She'd decorated it herself two years before. It had taken her an entire week to paint the walls and ceiling blue, and stick a couple hundred glow-in-the-dark stars all over the room. Ginny and Ron were awe-struck to hear that she had done it the muggle way instead of using her wand. But, it was worth it when she lay in bed at night and felt like she were floating through the night sky.

There were other personal touches of course, like homemade picture frames, and hand painted lamp shades. A large antique book case lined one wall, stuffed with as many books as it could carry, from science fiction novels to Hogwarts 'how to' texts. There was a desk in the corner, a brother to the bookcase, which held a computer. While Ginny had mastered the ability to play simple games like Solitaire, Ron was still nervous about the scattered beeps and whirrs it made.

Her bed was amazing. Even after sleeping in it for the past fourteen of her sixteen years, it was still perfect. She loved snuggling into the folds of her blankets and sinking deep into the mattress before falling asleep on a cool night. It had belonged to her grandmother on her mother's side, who had also been a muggle-born witch, giving it deeper meaning and sentiment than even she could reach.

Creeping around to the door to the balcony, she peeped out to see Ron looking utterly defeated as he slumped over the railing. She eyed him for a moment. His pajama pants were too short, showing Hermione his white, bony ankles. The white T-shirt he wore was thin to the point that she could see a hint of his freckled skin through the material.

She saw other things as well. His shoulders were strong and muscled from continuous Quidditch practice, and she could watch them ripple as he shifted the weight of his upper body on his elbows. His hair was shining like a copper penny in the morning sun, and was almost long enough to brush his divine shoulders. She loved his shoulders. She always imagined what it would be like to wrap her arms around them, or to be wrapped up in them. She wondered what his skin would feel like as she lay beneath him, gently stroking his back...

Suddenly aware of a heat growing in the very pit of her stomach, and spreading deeper by the moment, Hermione blushed. She scolded herself as she stole one more glance at her love's depressed figure. Like that would ever happen, she scoffed. As Harry said, he had his chance and he let it pass. Abruptly wishing Ron would leave so she could stay in her room and cry to herself, she turned on her heel and started for the door.

"Hermione?"

Shit! She thought, I REALLY don't want to start this discussion now! However, every slightly selfish thought abruptly left her mind when she turned around and met Ron's sad expression. If tears had of erupted from his eyes, it wouldn't have tugged at her heart any more. Sorrow was etched so deeply in his face, Hermione momentarily feared that she'd never see him smile again.

"Oh, Ron!" She exclaimed, instinctively bringing her hand up to rest on his cheek in a comforting manner. He brushed it away. His actions stung her, but she ignored her own feelings, keeping her thoughts on his. "What's wrong?"

"You should know," he muttered, lacking his Weasley temper. "You started the whole bloody thing in the first place!"

Hermione stood there with her mouth gaping and tears swelling in her eyes. He hates me! Look what I've done to him. Ron's expression softened just a little. He sighed deeply before crossing the blue carpet on her room floor, and dropping onto her blue, star-covered sheets of her bed. When he looked up at her, he looked like the lost little boy she knew Ron to be in their first year of Hogwarts.

"Mione," he started, this being the first time used her nickname for almost a month, "you made things so bloody dangerous."

"What do you-"

"You're not safe anymore, Hermione!" He put his head in his hands. "I've always liked you. I did ever since I saw you on the Hogwarts Express in our first year, poking your snotty nose into my business." He looked up at her. The raw emotions flowing out of him made it difficult for her to maintain eye contact. "That was almost five years of safety, and you ruined it."

"Ron, I still don't understand what you're saying!" Hermione stood uncomfortably in her own bedroom. She didn't want to sit on the bed, for fear of his reaction. Yet, she felt dumb just standing there, unsure of what to do with her arms.

"I didn't want to get hurt. I fell hard for you, Mione. But, never letting you know meant things would never change. Which meant I'd never have to risk losing you." He looked at the floor. "But then, you had to go and kiss me!"

"But, isn't that good? It means I feel the same way about you!" Hermione gave into her feelings of uncomfort, and sat on the bed's edge.

Ron snorted. "You could never feel the same way about me. Never. You're you, and I'm... me. It's like Beauty and the Beast." Hermione couldn't help but smile, knowing they'd watched that movie the day before. It had been the first movie Ron had ever watched.

"Is that how you feel?" She'd never seen Ron's confidence so low before, and it was all because of her. A rock of guilt started to form in her gut.

Ron nodded. "You should never sink as low as going out with a loser like me. I'm not good enough for you. You deserve better." He paused. "You should find better now, instead of finding it after."

"Maybe you're not good enough, Ron. Maybe I'm not good enough. We'll never know and we'll never care, because we both want each other no matter what. Don't we?" She didn't wait for him to answer. "Take a risk, Ron. If you care about me enough, you'll do it." Deciding to leave him with that thought, she leaned over and kissed his cheek before standing up to leave. "Just take a risk."

She didn't know if her words reached him, or even if he'd listened. She didn't think there was much more she could say to ease his mind. He had to decide if his feeling were strong enough to chance a heartache. Oh, I hope he heard me! She thought to herself as she passed through her bedroom door, heading toward the direction of the kitchen where she could hear Harry and Ginny giggling about something or other.

Ron had heard her. He'd heard her loud and clear, and he quicklymade a decision. The smart, beautiful, and fiery Hermione was worth the risk. He also had a plan. Well, he had themakings of a plan. Harry's birthday was on the thirty-first of July, and they would be throwing a party for him. No one would know he was up to something because everyone would be horribly distracted, including the lovely Hermione.

A week had passed. And, while Ron had shown more interest in Hermione, there had been no plunge into commitment. Or a plunge into anything else for that matter. Together, they had helped Ginny plan Harry's birthday party. Everything had run smoothly, and it was currently in full swing downstairs.

The music was loud and pulsing as she stared out over the brightly lit skyline. She'd gotten a message from Ron that Ginny wanted to meet her here, on the balcony. She wanted to discuss some 'girly things' as Ron had delicately put it. Hermione assumed Ginny wanted to fess up about her involvement with Harry.

The white, metal bar of the balcony's fencing was cool against the backs of her arms as she leaned out over the side. The air was so hot and humid that it was comforting when a wisp of cold air blew under her mini skirt, cooling much more than her backside.

She thought of Ron as she waited. She thought about his confession a week before, and his sadness. In the intense atmosphere, it didn't take long for those thoughts to turn into something more explicit. She tingled as she remembered how he looked when he was standing in almost this same position. His back curved, his yummy backside jutting out just a little, and his shoulders tensing under his shirt.

She jumped as something brushed the small of her back. A firm body pressed her against the railing as she tried to turn around. "Shhhh...," someone purred softly in her ear. A wave of desperate heat crashed through her form when she saw a strand of dark red hair flick in front of her face.

"Ron?" He shushed her again, bringing his hand around to place against the trembling muscles of her stomach. She could feel his hardness pressing against her backside, and her thighs felt slick with the fantasy she'd started before he'd touched her.

Sliding the first hand upward to rest between her humble breasts, the other took its place before slowly sliding downward. Slipping down past the hem of her skirt, his hand made contact with her panties. But, instead of moving them aside gliding underneath them, he teased her through the thin material. Once or twice she could feel him graze over her clit, making her knees want to give away.

As he landed small kisses all along the curve of her neck, she snaked her fingers through the soft locks of his hair. His fingers crept along her chest until they made contact with one of her hard, wanting nipples. She automatically arched her back at the touch, pressing harder against his erection.

She swooned at the sound he growled in her ear, and cried out as his hands gripped her wetness a little harder. "God, Ron! Do something, please!"

Hermione thought she'd died and gone to heaven at the sheer sounds of his pants being unzipped. She shuddered as all ten of his rough fingers dipped under her skirt and slid her panties down her he knees. Then, pressed against the cold metal of the balcony railing, she waited.

He didn't enter her. Instead, Ron slid his length between her thighs, teasing them both as he brushed against her most sensitive spots. Instinctively, she squeezed her legs together, pressing his hardness against her damp folds. Ron groaned. She gasped as his slid himself out. Before he'd fully retreated, she'd increased the pressure, slowing his withdrawal.

As she had hoped, he thrust himself back in, bumping hard against her clit as he did. He wrapped his arms about her waist, holding her up on unsteady legs, finding a rhythm between her slick thighs. He panted her name over and over through hitched breaths, and she could feel his body jerk against her back.

The sensation of him grazing against her over and over started spasms that rocked her to the core. Grinding her hips in synch with his, she clenched the muscles in her legs a little bit tighter. Apparently he noticed, as his body trembled he muttered unintelligible words of delectation under his breath.

The heat and vibration of Ron's pleasure finally won her over. She climaxed thrice, thrashing her body between him and the balcony railing, while throwing her head back against his shoulder to cry her ecstacy into the night. Her last peak came with Ron's, and it was by far the best when their bodies were contracting together. She let go for the last time while feeling his warm release splash against her nub. Perfection.

Breathing heavily, Hermione let Ron slide from between her legs before turning around to meet his lips in their second kiss. It was a long one this time, as their lips stayed connected through the balcony door and into her starry-night bedroom. When they parted, they could do nothing but stare at each other for a couple moments.

"I love you," Ron said simply.

"I love you, too," Hermione smiled.

"I tell you, Mione, that was well worth the bloody risk!" Ron chuckled, nipping at her ear.

"Wasn't so hard, was it?" She tired very hard not to sound like she were lecturing him about studying. It must have worked, because he didn't comment on her tone.

"It was kind of like jumping into cold water. It's not as painful as your mind makes it out to be." Hermione mock-glared at him. "All right! It's not painful at all. It's bloody brilliant!"

Hermione squealed as Ron pulled her onto the bed and rained her with kisses. They sank pleasantly into the worn mattress, getting lost in a pile of blankets and each other. The stars around the walls began to glow brightly when Ron flicked off the light, and the beat of the music downstairs set the pace for a whole new venture.


I hold any review dear to my heart, good or bad... ;) "hint, hint"