A/N: Happy, happy, happy birthday to the incredible and hilarious wildegreenlight! I hope you have a spectacular day, you deserve the very best!

(Title from "Supercut" by Lorde. Yes, apparently all my fic titles come from Lorde songs now.)

"So I was thinking," said Ron as they followed Harry and Ginny through the crowded platform, holding Hermione's trunk in one hand and Crookshanks' basket in the other. "That maybe I could take you to dinner tonight, to celebrate you being home. Unless you have other plans."

"You know, now that you mention it, I did make arrangements with my other boyfriend-" Hermione quipped, smirking up at him as he grimaced.

"I know you think that's funny-"

Squeezing his hand, Hermione tugged him down low enough to plant a kiss on his cheek. "I think it sounds great, I'll just need to change."

"We'll stop at Grimmauld Place first, to drop off Crookshanks." He glanced skeptically down at the feline in the basket. "He's not invited."

It wasn't until halfway through dinner that Hermione began to regret not holing up in Ron's bedroom with takeaway. It was impossible, really, to sit across a table from him, speak with him, watch his lips and his hands move as he ate, and not feel the slightest bit tempted to have her way with him right then and there. Weeks had passed, after all, since they'd truly been together, and now she was expected to behave in public around him. If she was honest, she thought it completely unreasonable.

"So I don't think Ginny's going to formally move in until I move out," Ron was saying, his tongue (oh God, that tongue) darting out to wet his lips. "It's just a bit awkward if she does, plus my mum's still having kittens a bit over the whole thing - but you can stay over anytime, do you want to tonight?"

"Definitely," Hermione agreed, perhaps a bit too quickly to keep her dignity in tact. "I was already planning to."

"Brilliant." He gave her a broad smile and popped a piece of roasted potato into his mouth. "Have I told you yet that I'm really glad you're back?"

"Maybe once or twice," grinned Hermione. "But I'm glad I'm back too, I almost can't believe it's over."

"Don't tell me you miss Hogwarts already."

"It was a big part of my life," she said simply. "But… you're a bigger part."

With a shy smile, Ron reached across the table to link their fingers loosely together. "Should we maybe skip dessert?"

"Oh, no, I definitely want dessert."

"Really? There might be a menu around here-" Ron caught sight, then, of the way Hermione had leaned toward him, the suggestive look in her eyes. "Oh, you mean that kind - excuse me," he said to catch the attention of their server. "We'll take the check."

Five minutes later found them pressed against the wall in the entryway to Number Twelve, lips glued together, Hermione's hands diving into Ron's hair to keep him close. He bunched the material of her skirt up in his hands, fingertips dipping under the edge of her knickers to graze along her arse. His touch every nerve in her body as his tongue snaked into her mouth, dancing against hers, their moans and gasps mingling together in the silent house.

"We should…" Hermione shifted her legs apart as Ron pushed her knickers lower on her hips. "Go… upstairs…"

"No time," he panted as her knickers slid down to the floor. His fingers dipped between her legs, stroking the soft folds. "Need you-"

"But what if - oh, God - what if-"

Ron released a low growl of irritation. "Dammit, you're right."

"Only thirty days until we move," Hermione reminded him as they bolted up to his bedroom.

•••

Ron shut the door behind them and cast a hasty silencing spell before kissing her again, tossing his wand to the floor. His hands were free, but in the rush of lust and desire, they fumbled with the button on her skirt, and he laughed into her mouth as it finally loosened. Her skin was silky-smooth beneath his calloused fingertips and, desperate to feel more, he dragged his hands up her sides, under her shirt. She broke the kiss just long enough to peel it from her torso, and Ron took the moment to drink in the sight of her, clad only in a lacy white bra.

"You," he mumbled, kissing the curve of her shoulder, an arm slung across the small of her back to hold her close, "are so gorgeous…"

Even through heavy-lidded eyes, he could see her blush.

She walked him toward the unmade bed and he sat, drawing her down to straddle his lap, their mouths meeting again. Why, he wondered incredulously as she rubbed against him, was either of them wearing anything? Even through the thin fabric of his boxers, he could feel the heat radiating from her in waves. The only issue was, he was loathe to dislodge her from where she was - he had been thinking about this for weeks, and he did not take a nearly-naked Hermione in his arms for granted.

She broke away from him, panting, and laid a kiss on the side of his neck.

"Lie back," she whispered.

He did as instructed, limbs sinking into the blankets as she lavished kisses over his neck and then moved down his chest. Her tongue darted out to flick over his nipples and then she crept further down until she was tugging his pants down his hips and his cock was springing free of the material. Shyly biting her lip (and why exactly she felt shy about this, he'd never understand - he found it hot as hell), she wrapped a hand around his base and closed her lips over his tip.

If anything, he thought dimly as her tongue swirled over him, he should have been the one feeling shy: it was almost embarrassing how quickly he lost control, grunting and groaning and mumbling her name. But she was talented at most everything she tried, and this had never been an exception.

"Er-my-nee," he stammered out, "I - I'm really close, I-"

He didn't want to come, not yet, not if he wasn't buried inside of her, making her writhe and moan and claw at him. She pulled her swollen lips off of him, wiped them with the edge of one finger, and promptly crawled on top of him to straddle his hips. The wetness between her legs on his stomach nearly made his head spin, and he pushed himself up on one elbow so he could kiss her, his teeth grazing her lower lip.

"You ready?" he asked hoarsely. She nodded and inched back so that she rubbed over his cock. His breath hitched in his throat; a second later she rose up on her knees so she could position him at her entrance and then sank down, sheathing him entirely.

The strap of her bra had slipped down one shoulder, and her hair formed a wild halo around her face, and in the instant before she began to move on top of him, Ron found himself struck by one profound, singular thought: I'm the luckiest man alive.

"C'mere," he muttered, using her free hand to pull her down to kiss him. "I love you."

"Love you too," she breathed around deep kisses. Unconsciously his hips began to push lightly up into hers. "Mmm, hold on."

She straightened up and reached behind her back, unclasping her bra so that it fell loose around her, and tossed it away. As she undulated her hips against him, Ron drank in the sight of her bare body above his, the curve of her waist, the smooth swell of her breasts. Merlin, he loved her so much, every single thing about her, and she was his. He knew that with more certainty than he'd felt about anything, that she would always be his, that the way he felt about her would never, ever change.

From her lips, a low whimper escaped, and she leaned forward the slightest bit as her hips worked more quickly over him. Ron let his hand drift up her waist until his palm covered her breast, and she moaned again, head tipping back to expose her elegant neck. Soon she had bent at the waist so that her chest met Ron's, their mouths meeting hungrily again and again and again.

Hermione left tiny half-moons in his skin when she seized up around him, her hands gripping his shoulders, ragged breaths erupting from her throat. As she collapsed against him, he spilled into her and then stilled; their heavy, uneven breathing was the only sound in the room.

Somewhere below them in the house, a low bump jolted them out of their reverie, but Ron was simultaneously too exhausted, satisfied, and content to care much. He had a naked Hermione Granger draped over his chest, and she wasn't just here for the night, and that mattered far more than anything else. He let his eyes fall shut, idly running his hands over the slope of Hermione's spine, occasionally allowing his palms to smooth over her bum.

"That tickles," she mumbled, her face buried in Ron's neck.

"Sorry." Still, he gave her backside one last little squeeze before relocating his hands, contenting himself with tracing circles into her shoulder blades. "I love you."

"Love you too." Hermione brushed his hair away from his eyes and dropped a kiss on his lips. "I'm going to the loo, I'll be right back."

•••

She extracted herself reluctantly from him, retrieving his dressing gown from a hook on the back of the door and pulling it on. She had just stepped into the hall when she heard the sound of laughter from the floor below. Voices, too - and several of them - and ones that weren't Harry or Ginny - and her stomach dropped. She snuck back into Ron's room, closing the door quickly behind her, and stared at Ron with wide eyes.

"There's people here," she told him anxiously.

"So? That's all right, I put up a charm, no one could hear-"

"It isn't that," she hissed. "Don't you remember? My - my knickers - they're still in the hall-"

"Oh." Ron looked like he wanted desperately to laugh, but knew better. "Well… you could summon them."

"And send them flying through the air?"

"D'you have a better idea?"

Hermione sighed. "All right, give me your wand."

"Thought I just did," he grinned, waggling his eyebrows at her. "But if you're interested in a second go-"

With a roll of her eyes, Hermione grabbed his wand from the mess of clothes on the floor and headed back into the hall. A simple spell later, she had a pair of red cotton knickers clutched in her fist, and she once again stepped back into Ron's room.

"Ooh, they were red?" asked Ron with intrigue. "I didn't get a good look, but feel free to wear those anytime."

"Noted," she said with a little laugh as she joined him beneath the blankets. Without thinking about it, she nestled herself into his side, her cheek on his warm, flushed chest.

"We'll be out of here soon, anyway," said Ron as he pressed a kiss to the crown of Hermione's head. "Once we move into the flat."

"Oh, I don't mind, really," said Hermione. "I'm just glad I'm here with you."