"That wand's more trouble than it's worth," said Harry. "And quite honestly," he turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for him in Gryffindor Tower, and wondering whether Kreacher might bring him a sandwich there, "I've had enough trouble for a lifetime."
In fact, Kreacher did bring him a sandwich; he brought all of them sandwiches.
"T'anks, Kreach'r," Ron mumbled through a large bite of his sandwich. The elf bowed out of the room. Ron, nestled comfortably in the pillows of his old four-poster bed, continued to shove as much of the sandwich as he possibly could into his mouth. Harry laid back on his bed, thoughtfully munching on his roast beef.
"How long do you guys think we're going to stay here?" Harry asked.
"Probably not for too long," Hermione said as she nibbled on the corner of her sandwich. She remained perched on the edge of Ron's bed as she spoke, "Things are just going to have to be brought under control here, well, as much as they can be. But we'll be back at the Burrow by tomorrow afternoon, I'd guess; everyone just has to come and collect their…"
Ron lowered his sandwich to his knee as he swallowed his last large bite, his eyes slowly losing their luster. "Yeah. We have to head back soon. There's… lots to do."
Hermione frowned, placing her hand on his knee. He twitched slightly, but still managed a smile.
"We should probably go to sleep, then," Harry said. "Goodnight." He twitched the curtains shut, although Hermione thought she saw him smiling.
"Are you ok, Ron?" Hermione edged closer to him and placed her barely-eaten sandwich on the tray next to his bed. Ron nodded and smiled, although she could tell it didn't reach his eyes. She gripped his knee a little tighter, although it was more to brace herself than to comfort him. "Do you want to sleep together?"
Ron's eyes widened and she heard him choke a little on his sandwich. "What?" His voice sounded strangled.
"Oh! Oh, no, no… um, what I meant was, do you want to stay together? For tonight, at least? I don't really want to sleep by myself tonight. It would be… weird. I haven't slept without you two by my side for a long time, and I just thought—"
"Yes!" He gulped a bit to clear his throat, then nodded, putting down his sandwich. "I mean, sure, that would be fine."
"I'll just go and get my pajamas, then." She stood up and smiled at him, then quickly left the room as she muttered to herself, "What are you doing, Hermione?"
Ron leapt up, shimmying quickly out of his clothes and into his orange pajama pants. He stared at the orange Chudley Cannons shirt he usually wore to bed, debating whether or not to wear it, when Harry's head popped out from his bed curtains. "Hey, mate? Do you reckon you could cast a silencing charm? I don't care to know what you two do tonight..." He grinned and disappeared into his bed once more. Ron huffed, decided to pull his shirt on, and, after hesitating before getting back into bed, cast silencio—just in case. As he was slipping back under the covers, Hermione burst into the room, only slightly out of breath. Ron started to feel out of breath, himself, once he got a good look at what she was wearing. It may have only been a pair of silky shorts and an old t-shirt, but Ron was fairly certain it was one of his old t-shirts, and the barely-there shorts weren't helping at all.
Hermione glanced over at Harry's bed, then quietly tip-toed over to Ron's and climbed in next to him. There was a lot of space between them, but Ron could feel his body heat rising just knowing that she was in the same bed as him; it was different than on the hunt, because now the threat was gone and they were just two teenagers who had happened to share a very passionate kiss not hours beforehand.
"Oh, bugger it all," Ron said, and before Hermione could ask what was wrong, Ron had rolled over, grabbing her hip and tugging her closer to himself. "Listen, Hermione, I'm just going to say this now. You kissed me." He stared deep into her eyes, and Hermione's breath hitched slightly, fear eking into her features. "You kissed me, and now you're in my bed in those bloody pajamas, and I feel like we should be lying here and talking about everything that's happened and our feelings and all that, but I don't want to talk about my feelings, I don't want to just lie here quietly in my bed with you, and you kissed me."
"You kissed me back," she said quietly.
"Yes, I did, and I'm a bloody fool." Hermione felt stung by his words, but she couldn't bring herself to move; something in his eyes just wouldn't release her. "I'm a bloody fool because it should've been me that kissed you first." He pulled her closer, dipping his face so close that their noses brushed; he stared at her mouth for a moment, before glancing up into her eyes. "Let me make it up to you?"
She had barely nodded when he captured her lips. It was gentler than she was expecting, much gentler than their first kiss, and the anticipation that had built up crawled through her belly. She shivered as he sucked her lower lip into his mouth, nibbling on it gently as he rolled her onto her back. Releasing her lip, he settled comfortably on top of her, murmuring, "Alright?" She was left speechless by the last few moments, so she could only nod once more before he dipped in to kiss her once more. He took his time, kissing her eyelids, her nose, just below her ear, the soft dip where her neck met her shoulder. Hermione felt her eyes drift shut each time he let his lips drag over her skin, and she found the soft brush of his nose against her jaw intoxicating.
"Hermione," he said, his voice gruff. The very sound of him saying her name like that made her moan and dig her nails into his back. She raked her nails down his back, whispering his name into his ear, and he bucked gently against her—that's when she felt his arousal.
"Mmnn," she whimpered, trying to open her legs wider and push him against her once more. He ground against her hard, hissing against her neck, and she felt him twitch against her.
"We have to stop," he grumbled into her neck. "We have to stop right now."
"But…" she rolled her hips slightly, but he hesitated for only a moment before rolling away from her. She could hear him take a few deep breaths before he rolled over to look at her once more, this time with a genuine grin.
"We have all the time in the world now, Hermione. I don't want…" he waved his hands around inexplicably for a few moments, then continued, "I don't want to rush it. I want this to be perfect. You deserve perfect, not an old dorm room with a friend sleeping nearby. It shouldn't be because of our grief." Her face fell, but he snuggled closely to her, draping his arm over her waist and whispering, "All the time in the world, love."
AN: So what do you think? I know it's been an incredibly long time, but seeing the movie has made me want to write again. I'm a little rusty, so if this isn't something you want to read, let me know. And on the flipside of that, if it is something you want to read, let me know that, too!