Night
Author's Note: Originally published on May 13, 2017
Ron knew she was doing her best to keep her composure in front of his family as she assisted with the wedding preparations. Every so often they'd lock eyes, and Hermione would flash him a sad, exhausted smile.
It wasn't until the evening, when they were up in his room, that she finally broke down—quietly sobbing in the crook of his neck. Wiping her parents' memories had been an emotional blow.
He held her tightly, whispering words of support. He, Ron Weasley, was finally learning how to comfort her the way he'd always wanted to.
Gradually, as dusk fell, they slipped lower and lower until they were laying together on his bed. She'd fallen asleep on his pillow as he watched over her, taking in her loveliness. Her body was pressed against him, closer than she'd ever been.
Reluctantly, he nudged Hermione awake and helped her to Ginny's room, her thanks a kiss on his cheek.
Ron's eyes fluttered open, the sound of soft steps rousing him. Hermione approached, looking ethereal in her wandlight.
Assuming she'd had a nightmare, he pulled aside the blanket, inviting her into his bed.
Instead of settling within his strong arms as he expected, she shocked him by straddling him.
"Hermione, what are you doing?" Ron shifted awkwardly, not wanted her to feel his instant reaction.
She leaned down and pressed her lips to his, his eyes wide, unbelieving. Their kiss deepened, tongues exploring. First tentatively, then hungrily.
She broke away, her chest rising and falling, and reached for the hem of her nightgown, tossing it away. Her wild hair fell around her face as she blushed prettily.
It was now impossible for Ron to hide his arousal as he stared up, dumbfounded at seeing her bare tits for the first time.
She smiled, feeling him, and reached for his hand, placing it on her breast. "Touch me."
His hand cupped her breast reverently, caressing her flushed skin. His thumb brushed her stiff nipple, eliciting the sexiest sound he'd ever heard.
Her hands wandered around his bare chest and up his muscled forearms. She ground herself against his erection, causing him to groan involuntarily.
"This is better than I imagined."
She nodded and bent down for another snog. She pulled away, her face inches from his. "Make love to me, Ron."
He shook his head.
"Please, Ron. I need to feel loved."
"I can't Hermione. This has been the most amazing night of my life, but I won't take that step while you're so distraught. I refuse to take advantage."
"That is exactly why it must be you, love. It's always been you. Please."
Every fibre of his being screamed that it was a bad idea, and that she'd probably hate him for eternity. He couldn't resist her.
He grabbed his wand and recited the spell, wanting them to be safe, before rolling her onto her back.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, Ron. Please love me."
"I already do."
Divesting himself of his shorts, he positioned himself between her thighs and slowly entered her. She grimaced at first as he pushed through, but begged him to continue. Her legs wrapped around his waist as they made love for the first time, finding a perfect rhythm.
They kissed as he thrust into her, their breathing becoming laboured as they each got close. Ron watched in awe as she shuddered and whimpered his name, reaching her peak.
He spilled inside her, the girl he loved. In the afterglow, they repositioned and spooned, eyes closing, utterly spent and content.
Ron awoke with a start, sitting up in a panic. It was the dead of night; his bed was cold and empty. He groaned, his head dropping into his hands.
"It was a fucking dream," he whispered into the darkness.
His heart sank as he flopped back down, his chest pounding. Staring up at the ceiling for several minutes, he tried to recall the fleeting images. He wrapped a hand around his painfully erect cock, knowing he'd need the relief to fall back asleep.
Her scent still lingered on his pillow, her beautiful face invaded his thoughts. He remembered how her body felt against his.
"One day."