Author's note: I know that canon says that Ron was discharged along with Harry at the same time (Monday morning). I just changed a few details for…artistic license heehee.

I apologize to all HarMione shippers in advance, but hope you enjoy this all the same. Reviews are most welcome.

Edited May 14 2016 - saw a few grammatical errors while backreading :) I hope I got them all ^^

All Characters property of J.K. Rowling.

THAT MAGIC YOU DID

"It's okay. we can fix it"
"I love you, Hermione"

He had just been discharged from the Hospital Wing that very evening after both he and Harry had argued—and at one point near begged—Madam Pomfrey to let them go.

Harry was with him in the ward, having been knocked out cold with a cracked skull during their match with Hufflepuff.

In the end, the motherly matron acquiesced to Ron's requests but warned him sternly not to exert himself too much in the following days.

Ron was only too happy to promise.

Harry was not so lucky though. Madam Pomfrey adamantly believed that he still needed to stay for the night for some more rest and recuperation.

After bidding farewell to a rather grumpy Harry and leaving the Hospital Wing, he checked his watch.

It was half past ten in the evening.

They're all probably asleep now.Or doing homework,Ron thought.

He breathed in the cool night air as he made his way through the first floor of the Hospital Tower and found himself to be in no mood for schoolwork.

Then he managed to catch his own scent.

Blimey…that could choke a dragon!

Then the most marvelous idea occurred to him.

He immediately turned around and made his way to the fifth floor.

"Lilac," Ron whispered and the door opened.

Even though he had been a prefect for the better part of a year and a half now, Ron still couldn't shake himself out of wonder about the place.

The mermaid in the window panels was lazily sleeping, her blonde locks draped over her face.

Ron was relieved to see that.

Nice to have some privacy for once, having always thought that the mermaid had voyeuristic pleasure whenever the prefects bathed.

Without much ado, Ron quickly turned on all the taps and took his time to enjoy the various effects that came from each tap.

He savoured the lovely scents of all the bubble baths and oils wafting lazily in the air as he folded his clothes away in a corner.

As always, the pool sized tub filled up remarkably quickly despite its size.

Ron let out a sigh of relief as he let himself sink through the warm, bubbly water and splashed a hefty amount of it on his face.

Reclining on one side of the massive tub, he then closed his eyes.

In the back of his mind, it was the least he can do for himself after being confined due to drinking that poisoned mead on his birthday.

Not one of my better birthdays, I suppose…he reflected.

He also then remembered just how ridiculous he had been after he had eaten those love-potion spiked Chocolate Cauldrons on that very same day.

I really, really should thank Harry again tomorrow.

After all, he wouldn't be there enjoying this wonderful bath if his best friend hadn't the wits to use that bezoar.

For a moment, or maybe several moonlit days, he just let himself relax and eventually fell asleep.

Ron dreamt that he was in the Hospital Wing again.

Oddly, he was looking down on himself this time though.

There he was on his bed, apparently still unconscious, as rays of sunlight shone across the veil-like curtains.

He wasn't alone.

She was there, sitting on the side of his hospital bed, gently caressing his forehead with her soft hands.

Ron was touched and felt a powerful rush of happiness come to him as the scene unfolded.

Talk about being with 'the girl of my dreams', Ron mused as he watched her

For a while, that was all that happened.

He felt like he could watch this scene for as long as it can last.

Then his dream-self opened his eyes and smiled at his caretaker.

Hermione smiled back at him as he saw his dream-self take her other hand in his.

No words were spoken, but they weren't needed anyway.

He saw his dream-self's other hand slowly come up to touch Hermione's cheek. She leaned slightly with that smile on her face and closed her eyes, clearly happy about dream-Ron's touch.

Slowly but surely, his dream-self sat up and locked his lips on Hermione's.

He was still very much enjoying the sight of himself and Hermione snogging without a care in the world when a sudden splashing sound roused Ron from his slumber.

He became immediately aware that he wasn't alone within the tub.

Bloody hell…who could that be?

Ron couldn't see who his companion was. For one, the room was lit only by a few candles and moonlight coming in from the arched glass windows. Even worse, his companion chose to bathe at the end of the tub closest that window.

He could only see the silhouette from where he was but immediately recognized it as a woman's.

Blimey…a very attractive one too.

Even as the silhouette was stroking her long hair, Ron could see the slender, lithe curves of his companion come alive with sensual movements he could only imagine in some of his wildest dreams.

Oh my god…oh my god…oh my god…Ron thought, feeling a surge of emotions that sent his brain into a frenzy and his manhood into a rut. He knew he was thoroughly enjoying himself but at the same time felt shame in his actions.

Eventually that shame caught the better of him.

He attempted to get out of the tub, grab his clothes and run for the hills.

He wasn't fast enough.

Ron hadn't realized that the foam leading directly from him to his companion had vanished enough that she could see him there and then.

"OY! YOU! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!" the girl shouted as she retreated and covered her breasts with her hands.

He immediately recognized that voice and swam to the other end of the tub as quick as he could.

As she quickly rose from the tub and covered up with her towel, she heard his voice call out.

"Hermione! It's me!"

She stopped, dumbstruck. "Ron?"

"Yeah…it's me, Hermione," he said sheepishly.

He blessed the fact that there was still plenty of foam in the tub, so there was no need to hide his privates from her.

She was looking at him with a mixture of embarrassment and apprehension as she sat on the tub's edge, with only a towel to cover her modesty.

"I didn't realize…", she blurted out, "oh my goodness…I thought you were another girl…I'm so sorry…I…"

"It's okay…," he interrupted, blushing fiercely, "I didn't think anyone would take a bath at this hour…"

A short, awkward silence ensued.

"Look," they both said in unison.

"I'm sorry, I…" they blurted out together again.

"Quit it!" Hermione said, as they both laughed, albeit in an embarrassed, nervous manner.

Awkwardly, Ron asked, "So…you do this often? Take a bath in the middle of the night?"

He mentally chastised himself.

Damn it, Weasley. What sort of question was that?

"I…actually do," Hermione replied, twirling a wet lock of her brown hair, "I found that it helps me let go of some stress…and usually if anyone else uses this room at this hour, it's another girl…"

Ron nearly had to slap himself to get the image of Hermione and the other girl prefects bathing in the buff in that very bathroom, doing things together that would give a priest a heart attack out of his already feverish mind.

Easy, Ron. Let's not go overboard.

She spoke vociferously for some length as she usually did when she was nervous.

As she did, Ron couldn't help but look at Hermione.

Bloody hell…to think Harry and I used to think her unattractive and 'one of the boys'…

Indeed, from the bushy-haired, seemingly pompous know-it-all with prominent front teeth, Hermione had become one of the loveliest ladies Ron had ever seen.

Not one of, he corrected himself,THE loveliest.

She had always a wonderful mind and a golden heart.

Both were reflected in her physical form now, Ron reflected.

Her brown eyes with their long, long, lashes were remarkably expressive, being able to convey sharp, cold concentration one moment and then burning, warm, compassion on the next.

Her figure had gone from being slight in their earlier years into a more curvaceous one.

Sensual.

Lithe.

Perfect.

Her peach colored skin was impeccably smooth, warm and soft. It was one of his favourite features about her. Seeing it now, wet and sparkling in the moonlight was bringing deep seated carnal feelings surging into his brain.

Her face with its immaculate features and mane of long, wavy brown hair…

That towel just made the spectacle of her even more…tantalizing.

He felt that if he so much as opened his mouth he would drool like a starving man presented with a feast.

Woman…Hermione…what are you doing to me…

"Ron?" she called out, snapping her fingers, "are you alright?"

"Sorry?" Ron flushed, not realizing he had been on the verge of daydreaming.

She smiled, to his relief.

"Listen. I've thought about it, and decided I should let you finish first."

"No way!" he said, "you finish first! I'll…I'll go change up."

She looked amused then, "Since when did you become the gentleman, Ronald Weasley?"

He tried to process what she just said, opened his mouth but found himself speechless.

Great job, Weasley…you look like some gormless troll now, he thought glumly.

She laughed then, a sound which Ron had come to love over the five-and-a-half years they had known one another and he found himself laughing with her.

He had to ask himself really, when had he become the gentleman to Hermione?

Was it after he got poisoned? Was it after his many semi-unsuccessful attempts to end his relationship—or farce of a relationship, Ron thought—with Lavender? Or did it start way before to the point where he himself had not realized it?

He snapped himself out of it, thinking there will be more time to meditate on such matters.

"Hermione…I really insist that you get your turn now," he said calmly as he attempted to reach for his nearby towel.

"No," she replied tersely and he immediately stopped in his tracks.

She didn't wait for him to reply.

"Ron…we need to talk."

"Can't it wait 'til tomorrow?"

"No, Ron. Please…we…I might not have another chance."

What in Merlin's most ragged y-fronts is she talking about?

His train of thought was interrupted when she reached out and held one of his hands.

After some hesitation, Hermione said rather sadly, "I thought I was going to lose you…and I never had a chance to…"

"A chance to what?" he asked soflty.

"Apologize," he then noticed that she was stroking one of the scars on his hand.

It was one of quite a few that had been left over after that time when she had attacked him with a swarm of canaries.

He chuckled, "Hermione, you know you don't have to. I was…an insensitive wart with the emotional range of a teaspoon during that time. I guess I deserved it."

She smiled again at him, albeit with a tinge of melancholy.

"It's not just that, Ron…I thought you'd be gone before I had a chance to tell you in person."

He got the idea.

Gathering his courage—despite the fact that he was stark naked and very much aroused—he leaned closer to her on the tub's edge, his other half still submerged in the foamy water.

"Tell me what," he whispered as they looked each other in the eye.

She replied by kissing him like never before, embracing him tight as she did.

It was long.

Fierce.

Hot.

Full of everything that both she and Ron should have said and done with one another a long, long time ago.

He obliged her, and returned the gesture just as passionately.

She broke off suddenly and motioned to the towel that she wrapped around herself.

"Hermione?" his eyes widened.

She had a positively seductive smile on her face then, and Ron could barely keep his wits from such a vision.

"I never was able to give you a gift for your birthday this year," she purred.

And with a saucy flourish, she slipped off that damned towel.

"Happy birthday, Ron."

Ron thought he'd been speechless a while back, now even his thoughts were leaving him as the blood ferociously surged into his head and into his manhood.

Am I still dreaming?

His eyes consumed every single detail of what had been until then, something that had only existed in his deepest, darkest dreams.

He'd seen pictures of naked, beautiful women before from Fred and George's "top secret" stash but none of them could compare to Hermione.

She was clearly aroused as well. He could tell from the way her rosy nipples stood and from the sopping, wanting state of her smooth slit.

She didn't wait for him to speak again—figuring he couldn't even if he wanted to—and slipped back with him into the steamy, foamy tub.

He couldn't think, much less move, as she moved closer to him instead and embraced him.

As she did, she felt the hot, steely length of his cock pressing onto her stomach.

Her scent was intoxicating.

"Someone's excited," she whispered, planting a kiss on his cheek and stroking his back, "and I'll have to top what you and Lavender did in the Astronomy Tower a few weeks back."

That snapped him out of his lusty stupor.

"You knew about that?" he asked quizzically.

"I have my ways, " she planted a playful kiss on his lips, "come on, you."

She turned him around and led him to the edge of the tub.

"Now sit, you naughty boy," she commanded rather playfully.

Ron chuckled but obeyed, getting up from the foamy water and sitting where Hermione once sat just a while earlier.

She let out an audible gasp as she beheld him.

Ron had always been tall and lanky, but ever since he had started Keeping for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, he also had to work out at Harry's behest and, at times, Ginny's threats.

One day, I'll make sure to thank them, she thought as she licked her lips.

Clearly, all that working out had suited him.

Ron now had a lean, muscular build that reminded Hermione of surfers on some sunny, tropical beach.

The fact that she had developed an odd fetish for freckles over the past few years didn't help her case either.

But she was more interested with what lay between his legs.

As far as it went, she was quite pleased with the package he had.

As she ogled his length and girth, she couldn't help but remember one of those rare times when she gossiped with the other Gryffindor girls; in particular, one session where they attempted to guess who was "at the short end" amongst their male peers .

The sight of his engorged member sent her heart into a vigorous staccato.

Weasley is MY king.

For Parvati and the others, Neville was…the least gifted, followed by Seamus and then Ron, while at the top of the list were Harry and Dean. She had silently disagreed with said notion but didn't want to let her opinion be heard in fear of being teased for days.

Oh how wrong youall were, she thought smugly and without further ado started to lick his shaft.

If Ron was bewildered by Hermione's sudden change from demure to devilish, he didn't have time to register.

She started off slowly, tenderly. She then laid a hand on it to stroke on it in the same manner.

Ron couldn't help himself as he gasped in pleasure and stroked her wet hair.

"Hermione…" he moaned repeatedly, which seemed to only egg her on.

Ron could barely believe what was happening—not that he was about to complain—but he still had enough of his wits to see risk.

"Hermione, someone…someone might hear us…oh…oh bloody…hell…Filch might…" each word came out half-pantingly, his mind getting bombarded with carnal feelings and thoughts.

Either she didn't notice or simply didn't care since she simply continued suckling on his throbbing member with even more vigor, this time fondling the tender sac that lay beneath it with her other hand.

"Hermione…oh my god…", he gasped as he spilled his seed into her mouth.

She swallowed it all and licked her lips in relish.

"Filch might what?" she chuckled teasingly, playfully sucking her index finger.

That's it. FILCH BE DAMNED! Ron thought.

Throwing all caution aside, he decided that it was his turn now.

He slipped back into the moonlit tub, took Hermione by the waist and drew her close.

He passionately kissed her on the lips first, then slowly made his way to her neck, knowing from past experience that Hermione particularly liked it.

Planting soft, deep kisses on her slender neck and caressing her perfect back, Ron could feel the thrum of her pulse beating ever faster as he went down.

"Ronald…" she whimpered, and he gave his own devilish grin as she did.

With each hand, Ron then grasped both of Hermione's wet, ample breasts and started to massage them slowly, causing her to gasp, close her eyes and wrap her hands in his ginger hair.

He kneaded her feminine mounds tenderly, pouring some of the soapy water over them to provide lubrication every now and then. He took particular time with her rosy nipples, hard and aching with desire, rubbing them slowly with his thumbs as she panted his name over and over again.

Oh Ron…my Ron…she tried to say, but couldn't find words as a deluge of lust filled her entire being.

Filled with lust and love, he didn't wait for her to make a coherent answer as he lowered his head onto her right breast and started suckling on it like a man dying of thirst.

Heaven…Ron, you…what are you doing to me…she thought hazily.

The warm, wet sensation of his mouth and tongue suckling at her breast was driving her mad with lust.

But it happened that he wasn't done with her yet, as he lowered his right hand from her breast and slipped it underwater while his mouth and left hand resumed in pleasuring her.

Before she knew what was happening, he felt his fingers slowly teasing the hot, wanting flesh between her thighs.

She had to bite her lip to prevent herself from crying out loud as he furiously assaulted her breasts and slit.

For a time, Ron ravished her like an animal—she near toppled over to lean on the side of the tub just by the arched windows as her legs were giving out from the deluge of passion she was experiencing.

The sight of him pleasuring her in the moonlight was almost too much for her.

Oh god, what sexy beast you are, Ronald…my Ronald.

She couldn't take it anymore. This was the man whom she wanted to give her all to, and she knew that he felt the same way.

"Ron…take me…"

That made him stop and lift his head.

The sight of Hermione, bosom heaving, face flushed, body wet and covered in suds while illuminated in the moonlight was the most erotic sight he had ever beheld.

Then her brown eyes met his blue ones.

They kissed again just as he entered her virgin hole.

So tight…Merlin's beard…you're so tight, Hermione…

Their kiss drowned out the cry of pain and pleasure that Hermione let out.

Sure enough, it hurt at first…but he was a gentle lover…his thrusts were slow, but forceful.

Fast enough to get her hot but slow enough for her to savour the feeling of his hard, throbbing member pounding away inside her.

Oh how long she had wanted this, but never had she thought it would feel this good.

The feeling of him inside, his grunts and gasps of pleasure, and the obscene way the soapy, steamy tub water would splash in time to their ministrations was divine to her.

It was rapturous.

Ecstasy.

The most intense pleasure she had ever experienced in her entire life.

Her gasping turned into a hoarse whimpering as all rational thought left her, replaced only by her red-haired hellion of a lover who was more than happy to oblige her with any and all desires she could wish for.

He stopped abruptly and pulled his still-hard shaft out of her spasming flower.

She was momentarily confused when he suddenly kissed her again full on the lips.

Ron then whispered, "Turn around, would you dear?"

She suppressed the latest in a long line of gasps she had made that evening, and turned with a coy smile, offering her back to him.

He buried his face in her wet mane before she knew what was happening and with one hand raised one of her thighs—taking time to caress her perfectly shaped bottom first—while the other ravaged her breast.

She felt the heat of his throbbing member press upon her bottom, despite the still-steamy water and let out a squeak.

"Ronald…"

With only the moon and the starlit sky as their witness, he said the words she had been waiting, aching for in a long, long time.

"I love you, Hermione," Ron said tenderly as he thrust himself back into her warm, wanting slit from behind.

The suds were all but gone by the time they finished, and the water was starting to become lukewarm.

To both of them though, it ended far too soon.

They simply leaned on the moonlit far end of the tub, spent but happy, her head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her.

Thank you, Quidditch. Thank you, Ginny and Harry, she mused with a smile, as she caressed his strong pectorals.

She heard him laugh softly.

"What's the matter?"

Ron beamed at her, "I think I'll be back in the Hospital Wing tomorrow."

She raised an eyebrow.

He chuckled again, "I promised Madam Pomfrey I wouldn't exert myself tonight. I think that this counts as exertion."

They both shared another laugh.

"So…" Hermione teased, "did I do better than Lavender?"

"Are you mad? I'm done with other women. You're the only one I will ever want, Hermione. You're my first, and hopefully only."

"You…didn't do it then?" Hermione asked, a little surprised considering the details of Ron's short-lived travesty of a relationship with Lavender.

"No," he said rather quietly, "we never did. We went as far as third base, but that's as far as it went."

"But Lavender said…things to us girls…that you and her..." and she abruptly blushed, finding the recollection to be too much to stomach at the moment.

Ron planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Then she's a lying prat. And about her 'performance'? Rubbish."

He then held her closer, "I want to apologize too…I thought you and Viktor…"

"We were only ever friends, Ronald," she teased, "we never went anywhere as far as you and Lavender did."

Hermione smiled that perfect smile again, "Harry might be the Chosen One. But you're the only one I'll ever choose, Ron."

Then she embraced him, "I love you, Ron. Don't you ever forget that."

Hermione then looked up, "So this means…I'm really your first?"

He then remembered the lyrics of a certain song by a Muggle singer named Barry White.

"My last," he smiled, "my everything."

Charlie, you have no idea how grateful I am to you right now,remembering with a smile of how he had caught his second eldest brother singing and dancing with gusto to that particular song as it played on their radio two summers before.

Ron then realized that he and Hermione had lost track of the time.

"Blimey... Hermione, what time is it?"

She got up, sat on the side of the tub, and grabbed her wand. He felt his breath catch in his throat momentarily as her entire nude form rose out of the water as if an erotic sea goddess.

"Accio wristwatch!" Hermione said.

"It's just past one in the morning. Shall we dress and call it a night,Won-won?" she said in a teasing voice.

Saucy one, you are, he thought randily.

"I don't know Hermione…" he said, smiling.

He turned the taps on again, "I still feel….rather dirty, you know."

She responded by slipping back into the tub and into his arms.

She noticed that his member was hard again.

"But what about Filch?" she asked jokingly.

"He can watch for all I care and bugger his cat while doing so."

Hermione bit her lip, drew him closer and looked him straight in his eyes, "I want more of that magic you did."

"Oh you saucy little minx…" he said as their lips locked while the steam and suds started to build up once more.

It was fortunate that Harry was released early the next morning, Ron mused.

His best friend had found him sleeping like the dead in his bed and had resorted to usingLevicorpusto wake him up, else they would be late for Potions and by extension, earn a few detentions from a very eager Snape.

When they saw a note attached to the door of the Potions classroom that Snape was away for the day, it only lifted their spirits. Among the three of them, the happiest perhaps was Hermione, who had for the first time in a long time, come very nearly late to class.

When Harry asked what happened, she just grinned sheepishly and said, "Overslept."

Harry couldn't help but notice that she had thrown a knowing look at Ron and vowed to himself that once he found out what Malfoy was up to in the Room of Requirement, he would get to the bottom of this new development.

If I only knew Legilimency…Harry thought unabashedly.

His thoughts were scrambled all of a sudden by Ginny who embraced all three of them while going to her next class.

As they walked away from the dungeons where the Potions classes were held and into the sunlit corridors leading to the Great Hall for a quick snack, Harry noticed that both Ron and Hermione looked positively radiant with big smiles on their faces.

It made Harry extremely happy to see that his best friends were back together again.

But he hated being left out, so while the three of them were enjoying sandwiches at the Gryffindor table, he casually blurted out, "Fine morning isn't it?"

Ron and Hermione giggled and exchanged knowing glances.

You have no idea…