Four Kisses


Author's Note: Originally published on August 29, 2011


Terrified. There was no other word to describe what Ron was feeling.

He was a statue on the sofa of the small flat, staring out at the twinkling evening lights of the Sydney skyline. A bead of sweat slowly trickled down his temple, and though it was almost winter—as barmy as that sounded, but that's what Hermione had told him so he believed it completely–the weather was much warmer than Britain had been before they'd left.

He was abruptly brought out of his thoughts by Hermione not-so-subtly knocking her knee against his, signalling his need to refocus on the task at hand. He audibly gulped, his heart thudding in his chest as he experienced that familiar feeling of nervousness. He turned to Hermione and was greeted with an encouraging smile, despite the exhaustion lining her face.

It had been a rough time for all of them since their arrival in Australia, especially for the girl he loved. Relief, joy, anger, fear and acceptance had drained them all emotionally, but it was particularly difficult for Hermione, who hadn't had a real moment of peace since they shared that wonderful dance at Bill's wedding all those months ago. At least he'd had a bit of a break when he was at Shell Cottage prior to Christmas. That bitter thought caused him to frown deeply.

As if sensing his feelings, Hermione shyly placed her small hand on his knee and gave him a reassuring squeeze, dispelling the dark thoughts and causing his whole body to warm. He was starting to get used to the wonderful effect her touch had on him, now that their physical contact had extended beyond awkward hugs.

Over the past days, The Grangers had slowly come to terms with everything their daughter had done to protect them. They'd listened with rapt attention when told what he, Hermione and Harry had done over the past year. Mrs. Granger had wept and held Hermione tight when she heard about her daughter's ordeal at Malfoy Manor.

It was finally time to tell them about a much happier development.

It had been killing Ron to hide his feelings for Hermione in front of her parents, but she'd pleaded with him not to reveal anything until she asked, fearing everything at once would be too much for them to take in. He couldn't say no to her, so he'd had to restrain himself to providing friendly reassurance in her parents' presence.

He noticed that her mum and dad, who were seated opposite them, were gazing at Hermione's hand resting on his knee. Her mum's face softened into a smile, but her dad seemed a bit disconcerted by what he was seeing.

Ron slowly cleared his throat and attempted the speech he'd been rehearsing in his head since they'd arrived.

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger, there... there's something else we need to tell you."

He paused, his mind blanking for a second.

"Go on, Ron."

"Well, you see, Hermione and I are together now. It's something that's been a long time coming. I've cared for your daughter for years, even if it took me a while to understand my feelings."

He felt Hermione squeeze his leg again, giving him the courage to continue.

"The truth is, I had a lot of growing up to do and that happened during these past months. When I almost lost Hermione," he paused, the nightmare of her screams still reverberating in his head, "I realized how much... how much... I loved her."

"Oh, Ron." Hermione whispered next to him.

He boldly grasped her hand, their fingers automatically locking together. He'd definitely missed the feeling of her soft hand in his.

"I need you both to know that your daughter means everything to me. I promise I'll take care of her and love her with everything I have."

Ron took a deep breath and relaxed, having said what he'd needed to say during their entire stay in Australia.

Hermione's parents turned and quietly conferred with each other, the looks on their faces almost unreadable after hearing what Ron had to say—though her mum seemed quite pleased by his declaration. Ron's hand gripped Hermione's and he felt his palms sweating.

"Ron," Mr. Granger started, "we don't doubt your feelings for our daughter. We've seen them for ourselves this week, and in how you saved and protected her during your journey. But you must understand that you've hurt Hermione and broken her heart... more than once."

Ron looked down, his face flushing bright red in shame and embarrassment.

"Dad!"

Ron squeezed her hand again, calming her. "No, it's alright, love."

He sat up straighter and addressed Mr. Granger's concerns.

"Sir, I'll be the first to admit that we've had many issues, miscommunications, and bouts of jealous and immature behaviour between us. We've both hurt each other. Yet, after everything we've been through, here we are, together. That isn't going to change."

"Do you feel the same way, Hermione?"

She snuggled into Ron's side before answering.

"I do, Mum. We truly love each other and we both know that now. I'm sure you may think we're too young to feel this way, but I can assure you, Ron is the man for me."

A smile lit up Mrs. Granger's face upon hearing Hermione's confirmation. On the other hand, Mr. Granger was still scrutinizing Ron, but seemed to grudgingly accept that his daughter had found someone truly special to her.

The older man stood up, and much to everyone's surprise, held out his hand to Ron. The redhead jumped to his feet and solemnly acknowledged the offering of acceptance.

"Ron, we are thankful for everything you and your family have done for Hermione, and I expect you to treat my daughter with nothing but the utmost respect. And I trust you know that while you're under our roof, there are certain... boundaries."

"Yes, sir." Ron managed to squeak out.

"Good, good. Now, if you'll excuse us, it's been a tiring few days."

They said their good nights and the married couple headed to their room at the far end of the flat. Ron collapsed on the sofa, relief written all over his face.

Hermione stood in front of him and leaned forward, her hands on his shoulders. She stared at him for a second before capturing his lips in a deep, soul-searing kiss. He could feel her pouring every ounce of love into it, her soft breath mingling with his as their tongues briefly touched, that spark between them strong and steady.

She pulled back and gave him such a look of tenderness, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

"Ron, you were wonderful. The things you said to my parents, and the way you dealt with my dad, oh, I'm so proud of you!"

He tried to shrug it off, as if his proclamation to her parents of his love for their daughter was something he did every day. She could see the tips of his ears reddening as he tried to remain nonchalant.

"I felt like... like I needed to be the one to tell them. That it would be the honourable thing to do, 'specially after the times I've messed things up between us. I know it's a bit old-fashioned, but..."

"No, Ron," she said as she leaned in for another kiss, "it was perfect."


She knew her pacing would only make the time go by even slower, but she needed to do something. Her heart and mind were racing, and there was absolutely no way she could sit in the state she was in.

Ever since the owl had arrived an hour ago, she felt like she'd experienced every single agonizing second that ticked by.

She'd worn an invisible path in the carpet of their modest flat, and though Hermione knew she was torturing herself, she couldn't help but stop and pull the roll of parchment out of her pocket. Her tears dripped onto the paper as she read the letter from Kingsley, informing her that there had been an ambush and that Ron's current whereabouts were unknown.

Her heart had seized in that moment, her stomach tightening into a knot as she felt the cold, numbing chill of fear envelop her. She kept telling herself that her Ron was alright. She would know if something had happened to him. She needed to believe that to keep from completely falling apart.

Her first instinct was to Apparate to the Auror office and scream herself hoarse until she had some answers, but she knew that would get her nowhere. Kingsley had sent her the notice as a friend, and not as the Minister of Magic.

She desperately wished she could contact someone, and knew she should, but she was trapped on that five-foot stretch of carpet, paralyzed by rapidly darkening thoughts.

There was nothing to do but wait and pace.

Pace and wait.

Wait and pace.

Pace and wait.

Her light footfalls and strangled sobs were the only sounds echoing through the flat as the seconds kept ticking away. Memories flitted in and out of Hermione's consciousness, taunting her of happier times, and of the future she couldn't see without Ron by her side. They had such a life planned for themselves, one in which they would establish their home, raise a family, and grow old together.

It tore her apart, the thought that she could lose him before they experienced all of those things, before they lived the life they deserved after the hardships they'd endured.

There was something else building inside the pit of her stomach, and despite her efforts, she was unable to stop the rush of red-hot fury. How many times had she nearly lost him over the years, even before he was truly hers? Now he was in mortal peril again, and she could do nothing.

She raged and placed the blame on him for putting her in such a state of despair, for making her feel so vulnerable. She knew how much he loved being an Auror, but at that moment she hated what it meant to them. The dangers out there were so real, and she could lose him at any time.

Perhaps she already had.

Her angry outburst into the empty room had sapped her strength, so she went back to the only thing she could do at the moment.

Wait and pace.

Pace and wait.

She didn't know how much time had gone by; it may have been minutes or hours when a piercing crack splintered the tense air.

She spun and saw him through blurry eyes, a little worse for wear but seemingly uninjured.

Alive.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again!" Hermione screamed before launching herself at him, her arms an iron vice around his neck as she clung to his tall frame.

Ron's strong hands gripped her thighs and lifted, her legs instinctively wrapping around his torso as he held her shaking body tightly, waiting for her anguished cries to subside.

Her hands found his face, gingerly touching his cheeks and forehead, and finally his lips, making sure he was real and safe. The tears came again as she crushed her mouth to his, bruising and needy as she expelled everything she had felt in the past hour. He returned the salty kiss with vigour, trying to soothe her with the soft press of his tongue against hers.

She pulled back and rested her forehead against his, breathing heavily.

"I thought... I thought I'd lost you, Ron."

"I'm fine, love. I grabbed one of the wankers just as he was about to Apparate, so I went along for the ride. After I subdued him and hauled him back to the Ministry, Kingsley told me he'd sent an owl, so I came immediately."

"I hate it when you're out on these raids, but this was by far the worst."

"I'm sorry, Hermione."

"When is it going to end?"

"It ends now, I promise you, Hermione. I briefly spoke to Kingsley about moving to the Strategy and Planning department of the Aurors, to make sure this kind of ambush never happens again. I don't want you to ever have to feel like this."

She whimpered and buried her head in his neck.

"No more raids?" she whispered.

"No more raids."

She pulled back and caressed his face again. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You won't have to find out... you're stuck with me forever."

She sniffled loudly and smiled. "That's fine by me. I love you, Ron."

"I love you, Hermione."

He turned and started walking them to their bedroom.

"Where are we going?"

"I need to make love to my wife."


It had all started innocently enough.

They'd returned home after the party at The Burrow, where they'd celebrated Hermione's successful first case as a fully-qualified member of the Ministry Law department. Her cheeks were still flushed with pride at the accomplishment and the generous compliments she'd received throughout the evening.

She was thrilled that her loved ones and friends had been so supportive of the career change, but one person in particular had sacrificed the most, and she was so thankful. She knew she wouldn't have been able to do it without him by her side.

How she loved Ron and had wanted to show him how much. He'd had the exact same idea.

He'd immediately lit the candles scattered around the dark bedroom, painting a warm flickering glow along the cream walls as he stared at her hungrily. He took a few steps towards her as she kicked off her shoes, and before she could go further, his hands had sunk into her thick tresses and his mouth had possessed hers, his tongue sweeping along hers in needy lust. He captured her tongue between his lips, and nibbled on her bottom lip, which drove her mad with lust. She'd felt herself moan loudly, spurring him on.

His hands had gently moved down, caressing the smooth skin along her neck, before drifting along her collarbone, slipping the straps of her dress down her arms. His soft lips followed the path of his fingers as he kissed his way down to her shoulder.

She now found herself topless, her dress bunched around her waist as Ron captured her aching nipple between her teeth, his large hands gripping her arse and pulling her to him. Her pelvis ground into his hardness, causing her to moan loudly, just as Ron found her other nipple and circled it with his tongue.

Her hands gripped his beautiful ginger locks, the glow of the room illuminating the natural highlights in that hair she loved so much. She pressed his head to her chest, needing him to take things further.

Knowing how to read her signals, he steered them towards the large bed and gently pushed her down onto the mattress, quickly stripping her of her dress and tossing it over his shoulder. He grinned and licked his lips, before teasingly sliding off her knickers and spreading her legs.

She had to refrain from screaming as he went down on her, his hot breath and experienced tongue sending spikes of arousal through her entire being. Her fingers once again found his copper strands as she hung on tightly, his ministrations pushing her to the brink. When he simultaneously reached for her nipple and slid a finger into her wetness, she couldn't hold back as her body shuddered and she came, her loud shouts muffled by a nearby pillow.

As she rested, panting loudly with her eyes closed, Ron quickly removed his clothing and again settled between her legs. She loved the feeling of his weight on her, pinning her down with the promise of something more to come.

She opened her eyes and found him hovering above her, her breath stolen by the naked need in his eyes. She nodded and he thrust inside her, relishing in the feeling of his body so intimately connected to hers.

She could see the strain in his face as his pace increased, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Desperate to feel more of him, she wrapped her legs around his fit torso, pulling him deeper inside her. Her moans were constant and full of need as he made passionate love to her.

"Yes, love, more," she pleaded, her body flushing with the heat of the room and him.

"So proud of you... so in love with you," he mumbled as he filled her, again and again.

Their bodies were entangled, moving together as one as they reached the edge.

Hermione felt as though she was in a hazy dream, lost in the feeling of her and him expressing their love for each other in the most raw and erotic ways possible. She was moaning and he was grunting with every thrust, and when his intense blue eyes found hers, she screamed his name and tightened around him, pushing him to meet her in that moment of complete bliss.

He gently pulled out, causing her to gasp from the sudden sensitivity, and flopped on his back. Her leg twined with his as she nestled in the crook of his arm.

They lay in the silence of the room, watching the random patterns of the candlelight on the ceiling as they sunk into a state of pure relaxation. He lazily twirled a strand of her bushy hair around his finger as their contentment enveloped them.

"Thank you, love," she whispered sleepily.

Hermione felt a low rumble in his chest as Ron laughed.

"No need to thank me... that was bloody brilliant, just like you."

She struggled to sit up for a moment, her brown eyes searching his face. Her fingers ran along his jaw line as she caressed the love of her life.

"That's not what I meant, Ron. Thank you for being so wonderful these past couple of years. I know it hasn't been easy with me working and the long hours studying."

"I know how it important this was for you, Hermione, and I didn't want to make things more difficult. I just want you to be happy."

She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his solid freckled chest, right over his heart.

"I couldn't be happier."


On most mornings, the noisy laughter coming from the kitchen may have been attributed to one of the two teenagers who'd recently arrived home for summer holidays.

On this particular morning, however, Hermione was pleading and slapping away her husband's fingers as his merciless tickling overwhelmed her.

"Stop, Ron," she wheezed out between giggles.

"After what you just said? Never."

"I... didn't... mean it."

He paused for a moment, giving her a chance to catch her breath. "So my famous pancakes don't taste like Hippogriff dung?"

She blushed, not wanting to admit the truth to him.

"Ha! I knew it. But you've been eating them for years!"

"It was so sweet of you, that first time you made them for me. I didn't want to hurt your feelings by telling you how awful they were." The corner of her mouth twitched slightly. "If I'd have known you'd make them every single Sunday, I would've said something back then."

His eyes narrowed as he stared at her, unimpressed.

She couldn't hide her mischievous smile as she continued. "Even Crookshanks won't touch them."

He grabbed for her again and she squealed loudly, just as the kitchen door swung open. Two bleary-eyed teenagers entered, their faces a mix of resignation and revulsion.

Hugo sat down heavily and dropped his head into his hands.

"Bloody hell, Mum! Are you trying to raise the Inferi?"

"Language, son. Though it looks like she did manage to rouse the dead."

Rose laughed and ruffled her brother's hair as she began to set the table for breakfast.

"What was all that noise? Did Dad step on Crookshanks' tail again?"

Ron made a face at his daughter. "If you must know, your mother was paying the price for breaking my heart."

Hermione poked her head out from around his back. "I told him about the pancakes."

"About time," Hugo's muffled voice grumbled.

"Oi! You weren't complaining last week when you were tucking in."

"He's fourteen, Ron. Surely you remember how you were at fourteen, eating everything in sight. There were a couple of times I was afraid I'd lose a finger, sitting right next to you during meals."

Ron spun, pinning Hermione to the countertop.

"Not so scared now, are you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow before his warm lips found a favourite spot on her neck, causing her to whimper quietly.

"Ewwwwww, why do you two have to always be so..."

"Yes, Hugo?"

He made a frustrated gesture towards them with his hands, as if that would make sense to them. "So... public. Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry aren't constantly all over each other. It's embarrassing."

"I think it's romantic," Rose piped up, earning the glare of her brother.

"I'll have you know, when your aunt and uncle had their first kiss, it was in front of the entire house after a Quidditch match."

"Really, Mum?"

"Yes, and it was quite a shock to your poor father."

"I did have other concerns at the time, Hermione, like fixing things between us."

Their eyes met as they shared an intense look, while the children stared at them, their faces a mask of confusion.

Rose was about to ask what that meant, when her mother gave her a stern look that stopped her cold.

"That's a story for another time."

A moment passed, before Hugo burst out. "That doesn't explain why my parents are the only ones at King's Cross kissing in front of everyone!"

He quickly turned away, his face turning red from his outburst.

Ron felt Hermione's arm snake around his back, giving him a nudge to take the lead.

"I have a feeling this has something to do with things unsaid to a certain girl in Ravenclaw and not with your oh so embarrassing parents."

"I can't believe you told them, Rose!"

"Your sister didn't say a thing, son. I saw how you and your... friend were behaving towards each other on the platform, and believe me, I know those looks. I'm certain I acted the same when I didn't know how your mum felt about me."

Hugo looked up, but didn't answer, so Ron continued on.

"If there's one thing I learned from my relationship with your mum, it's that you should never be afraid to express your feelings. You never know," he smiled at Hermione, "she might just like you back."

Hugo looked hopeful. "Yeah?"

"Yes. You never know what will happen tomorrow, which is why I can't help doing things like this."

He quickly dipped Hermione, who shrieked at the sudden movement, and snogged her thoroughly through her laughter. His love for her and thankfulness for having her in his life were evident in the depth of his kiss.

He heard a complaint in the background that made him smile against his wife's lips.

"Ugh, I thought Dad's pancakes would be the only thing that would make me feel sick this morning."