A/N: This is the first Ron/Hermione fic I've written in a LONG time, and the first M-rated fic I've ever written. I'm convinced it's rubbish, but I hope you like it. Please review. I want to know if this is complete crap or not. Simple little fluff, takes place a few months after DH and goes along with canon. I hope it's in character.
HORRIBLE
Hermione awoke on Halloween 1998 feeling as if she was walking on air.
Though the rest of Hogwarts was busy in preparations for parties and causing ruckus and dressing up, Hermione wasn't even thinking of the holiday. It was a Saturday, so classes were not in session, and though normally Hermione would spend such a day studying for N.E.W.T.s in the library, today she found herself staying in her dormitory, looking at old pictures and letters from over the past few months. She even caught herself in front of the mirror a few times, wondering if she should wear a skirt or jeans and if her make-up looked natural yet appealing.
For Merlin's sake, Hermione, she kept reminding herself, it's just Ron. You've known him since you were in your first year!
But really, when it came down to it, Hermione knew and had known for some time now that when it came to Ronald Weasley, there was no such thing as "it's just Ron."
Though Hermione had gone back to Hogwarts to complete her seventh year at Hogwarts after the war, Harry and Ron had taken up an opportunity to go straight into Auror training. At first, Hermione had thought that they would regret the decision, but their letters made everything seem so wonderful and exciting, though also very straining. She admired Harry and Ron for continuing their educations, though, even if they were doing so in a completely different setting than Hermione was.
However, though Harry and Ron were no longer Hogwarts students, McGonagall had told them and all of the other war heroes who had left Hogwarts that they were welcome back at any time, to visit or complete or even repeat their seventh year, as last year's class had not had the best of opportunities. Harry had met up with Ginny and Hermione in Hogsmede for a few hours in the middle of September, and Ron had just been given a weekend off to do whatever he pleased and so was making use of McGonagall's offer.
It was only ten in the morning, and Ron wasn't due until five. Mrs. Weasley had begged him to stop by for dinner, something he rarely did now that he spent all his time training or studying, eating, or sleeping in the small flat in the heart of London that he shared with Harry.
Now, as Hermione sat on her four-poster bed, she remembered the last time she saw Ron, in late August. They'd both spent so much of the summer grieving with the first few weeks dedicated to funerals and memorial services. Hermione had left as soon as she could to find her parents and return their memory to them. She'd spent two weeks with them filled with plenty of confusion, sorrow, and joy. When she'd finally ventured away from home Ron had been too busy with the whole fanfare of becoming a war hero to give her or anyone much attention, though Hermione completely understood as she soon became caught up in it all as well. It was hard to say no to interviews, attendance at parades and meetings, and that sort of thing when so many people admired and counted on them and all of the other war heroes, especially Harry. It hadn't been until late August that she'd finally been able to sit down and chat with her friends again, and she realized now that she'd really only shared two kisses with Ron—a passionate one mid-battle and a hurried, chaste one when they realized they would not be seeing one another for a few months.
I wonder if he'll kiss me while he's here, Hermione thought before coming to the realization that if Ron did not kiss her at some point in the evening and proceeding day, she would have to kiss him, something she was perfectly fine with as she'd been the one to first kiss him during the battle, and even that time they said good bye.
A bit before five, Hermione walked down to a section of the dungeons that was currently not in use that McGonagall had designated as the arrival spot for the heroes, who had all been given a very special Portkey that required the recitation of multiple passwords before becoming useful.
Hermione only had to wait a few minutes before Ron appeared in the room, swirling into life and then landing with a level of grace that made Hermione think he'd become used to traveling via Portkey over the last two months. She was surprised that she felt almost nervous upon seeing him, and was even more surprised when he shook his head, steadied himself, and gazed across the room at Hermione with a look in his eyes that she'd never seen before.
He stood there for a few seconds, and Hermione noticed that he'd changed a bit over the last few months. Over the summer, he'd gained some of the weight back that he'd lost in the months of running about and worrying, as had all of them. Now he seemed to be made almost entirely of muscle, and not the wiry sort that he'd always had from playing Quidditch and just being an active person. He'd filled out more, too, and now looked more like a man than a boy.
And then, Ron did something that surprised Hermione even more, especially since she'd almost always been the one to make the first move. He strode across the room, quite purposefully, and embraced her.
Hermione let out a squeak, taken aback, but then relaxed in Ron's arms. Merlin, he smelled so good, and the same as he always had. He smelled a little less of his home than he usually did, but still of familiar things: soap and chocolate and sweat and that undeniable smell that she'd recognized in a love potion in Slughorn's class two years ago already now.
She looked up at Ron, and he was gazing down at her. "Hi," she murmured in the sort of voice she had told herself not to use earlier that day. It was too friendly and chipper. She'd practiced saying a simple "hello" to her mirror earlier that day, though now it all seemed silly and so unlike her.
"Hi," Ron said, and she thought he was going to let go of her, but he didn't. Instead, he kissed her lightly on the lips and then continued to smile down at her. He's so tall, Hermione thought to herself, and smiled back up at him.
But still, that light kiss was not enough. Hermione closed her eyes, inclined her head towards his and their lips brushed, but still it wasn't what she wanted. She wanted to taste him, to feel his hands on her, to do things she'd only imaged and read about in books.
Ron seemed to sense this and removed his arms from circling her waist so he could put his hands on her face and draw her to him. He kissed her, traced he lips with his tongue, and she parted them, succumbing to the kiss like she'd always wanted to.
He trailed a few kisses down her neck now, but she didn't want that. She just wanted him and so she wound her hands in his slightly long hair and dragged his mouth back up to hers. She could feel his hand as it gently began to kneed at her left breast through her thin cotton shirt and let out a soft gasp. He looked at her with a devilish sort of smile for the briefest of instants before kissing her again. The hand slipped under her shirt now, under her bra and she realized what that look he'd had when he'd first appeared had been. It was something that she really could only describe as hunger.
Curious and hungry at well, Hermione slid her hands up the back of Ron's T-shirt and explored his muscles and skin with her hands. She was surprised when he removed his hand from beneath her shirt and pulled her even closer to him, sliding his tongue even deeper into her mouth. Returning the kiss, she felt that he was hard and that he wanted her, sending a nervous shiver down her spine, especially when she realized how much she wanted him in return. Realizing that his hands were on her backside now, Hermione was suddenly glad that she'd worn her only tight pair of jeans.
Though in the moment Hermione would have been perfectly content with Ron having her right then and there on the dungeon floor, she did know that perhaps this wasn't the best time and place, and anything else might lead to just that, and so she pulled away and, after catching her breath, said, "Ginny…Ginny wanted to say hello."
"Oh, yes," Ron said. "I suppose I should…suppose I should say hello, then."
Blushing furiously, Hermione led the way out of the dungeon and the two headed to the seventh floor and the Gryffindor common room. Upon passing the location of the Room of Requirement, though, Hermione was suddenly gripped with an idea.
Wouldn't a Halloween party be absolutely…fun? she wondered to herself. That would be nice. Though Gryffindor was holding one, it was sure to be loud and rowdy and not give Ron any time to catch up with his friends. The room could provide a location, and then Hermione could leave Ron behind for an instant, and then grab Ginny, Neville, Seamus, Luna, and possibly even Dean, if Ron no longer had a problem with him. Anyway, he and Luna had seemed like a bit of an item lately.
"Hold on," Hermione exclaimed, and she began pacing by the entranceway, thinking of exactly what she wanted. She was surprised but happy to find Ron walking alongside her.
When the doorway appeared, Hermione opened it and was surprised to see something that was not what she'd wanted at all. There were no decorations and certainly not enough seating. She was happy to find that at least the fireplace she'd imagined had shown up. There was a bed in the room, causing her to be very confused, because that's now what she'd wanted at all.
"I didn't think of a bed," she found herself saying.
"I didn't think of a fireplace," Ron murmured just as she did.
"Wait…" Hermione murmured, turning to look at Ron. She took a step deeper into the room and Ron followed her. The door closed behind them. "What's going on, Ronald?"
Ron turned his typical shade of red. "Er. Well." He paused, and then upon seeing Hermione with her hands on her hips, a rather dubious look on her face, he blurted out, "Well, what was I supposed to think, Hermione? What with you…kissing me like that down there."
"You kissed me!" Hermione exclaimed, defensive. Though now that it was all adding up, she wasn't certain if she was necessarily mad at Ron. It really wasn't that bad of an idea…
"I mean," Ron added, his tone more joking now, "you practically assaulted me!"
"Ron!" Hermione gasped, slapping at him playfully. "That is not true."
"See!" he called out. "There you go again, assaulting me. Though last time," he added, "it was in a much more…welcome form." Hermione felt her face heat up. "I'm sorry, Hermione," Ron added. "It as stupid of me. I should've just let you do whatever you were going to do without pacing along and imagining…this. What did you want, anyway?"
"Never mind that," Hermione said with a shrug. "It's alright."
"It's alright?" Ron asked, looking around. "You mean…?"
"I mean," Hermione simply stated, and even though it didn't make much sense, she knew he knew that that meant.
He tiptoed up to Ron and was about to kiss him when he began talking again. "Merlin, Hermione. I don't want you thinking I came here to take advantage of you or anything. It really wasn't my intention. I just wanted to visit you and—"
He was rambling now and she cut him off. "You're not taking advantage of me, Ron," she murmured, and was surprised to hear how husky her voice sounded. "Don't worry about that."
Ron's face brightened. "You mean…? You mean it's perfectly…you mean you want to?"
"Yes," Hermione answered, and leaned up to kiss him but he somehow managed to kiss her first.
For a moment, it was all confused fumblings, and Hermione realized with a smile that Ron had never done this either. The feeling of her smiling against his kiss made him smile too and she let out a astounded gasp as he picked her up and carried her to the bed, a rather large affair with simple white sheets.
When he put her down, they only kissed for a few moments, softly admiring one another. Hermione realized as Ron slid his hand up her shirt once more that they were making up for the months of being apart, and even being together and doing nothing due to the fact that they were too overcome with grief and overwhelmed with life to even realize that they had each other. She shook her head as he started to fondle both of her breasts, though, and pulled off her shirt, something that he did as well.
She started at him for a moment, realizing that he certainly had grown up a lot recently. She'd seen him without his shirt before—swimming, returning from Quidditch practice, heading out to wash up while camping out during the war. He was much more filled out but still had the same freckles and marks, though she'd never been close enough to discover them all. There was a small, dark scar on his shoulder swarmed by freckles, and she placed her hands on his chest and kissed it.
When she finished, Ron gazed at her now, and she unclasped her bra. It was all more slow, more romantic than it had been in the dungeon, and much more intimate. Hermione was surprised to find that though Ron gazed at her, his eyes kept returning, almost admiringly, to her own.
"I love you," he suddenly whispered. "God, how much I love you," he said, and leaned forward and kissed her, pressing his skin against her own.
"I love you too," Hermione answered when he ceased kissing her, and then she pulled his face to hers once more and kissed him as deeply as she could.
They were clad only in jeans now, and there was really only one way to go from here. When they stopped kissing, Ron slid off of Hermione and stood up. In a manner that would have seemed awkward with anyone else, he peeled his jeans off, and Hermione followed suit, and then off went his boxers, and Hermione was about to remove her knickers, when Ron sat back down on the bed and said, "Don't."
Hermione knew he was going to take them off and though it thrilled her, she suddenly was overcome with fear. "Isn't there," she began, "isn't there…a charm? Something you're supposed to say so…so nothing happens?"
"What do you…oh!" Ron exclaimed. "Yes. Yes, there is. I guess older brothers are good for something after all." He smirked and turned around, and Hermione watched him from behind. God, he was beautiful. He rummaged about on the floor and finally found his wand, and then murmured a spell that Hermione knew from her readings was a contraceptive charm. He returned to the bed and spread out next to her before kissing her and then leaning over her to slowly remove her knickers.
Hermione was glad she hadn't worn any of her old, worn out pairs. It was a simple pair of underwear, light blue with white polka dots, a thin pink bow at the top. Ron pulled at them, lightly, and Hermione bent her legs so that it was easy for him to remove them, and once the knickers were at her knees, stretched her legs out. They came off easily and Ron looked at them almost reverently before tossing them to the floor, leaning over her, and kissing her once more. "Are you nervous?" he asked her.
Hermione figured it was no time to avoid the truth. "Yes," she said. "A little. Are you?"
Ron smiled, and though he seemed so confident she was happy to hear him admit, "A little."
And then, it happened. He entered her and she worried that it would hurt, but it didn't. She let out a soft little moan of pleasure and he asked, "Are you alright?"
"Yes."
"I know sometimes it hurts for girls the first time and you should tell me if it hurts—"
"I'm fine, Ron," Hermione said, and he kissed her before the rhythm began. Hermione moved with him, and she realized why there were so many terms for the act, and that this, what they were doing, could only be called making love.
He came rather quickly, though Hermione wasn't sure what rather quickly was. "I'm sorry," he said when it was over and he spread out next to her once more.
"It's alright. It was…wonderful," Hermione said with a smile, because really, it had been. She turned to look at Ron and though he'd been abashed a few seconds before, now he looked happy, even proud.
"Really?" he asked.
"Yes," Hermione said. "And we can always try again."
She leaned up and kissed him and he pushed her back, balancing so that he supported most of his weight. But instead of making love to her he showered kisses down her stomach and then rested on his knees before leaning over her stomach once more and slipping one finger inside of her, and then another. She let out a soft cry and he took them out. "No, don't stop," she murmured, but he did better and filled her almost as soon as he took his hand away. She wanted to move her body against his but could only do so for a moment before she tensed up, still rocking with him, and then felt the white hot heat spread through her stomach and down her thighs and into her soul.
When it was over, they lay there in each other's arms for a while, even sleeping off and on, until they became curious about the time. There was a clock on the mantle and Hermione got up, wrapped in a sheet, not quite ready to walk around naked, and read the time. "Oh, it's midnight!" she cried. She felt her stomach rumble. "I'm starving."
"So am I," Ron noted. "We can sneak down to the pantry," he suggested.
The two got dressed, still behaving a bit shyly around each other. Hermione found it all rather ironic since they'd been friends for so many years. They exited the room once dressed and headed down towards the Great Hall and the pantries. Once they were halfway there, Ron said, "You know, I never did say hello to Ginny. And what were you planning to use the room for?"
Hermione smiled as the rounded a corner, hand in hand. It was almost impossible not to touch Ron now. She felt like she'd die if she weren't somehow a part of him, touching him, remaining by his side. "A Halloween party of sorts," she noted.
"Are you sure?" Ron asked. "Are you sure you weren't just looking for a chance to seduce me? You did assault me earlier, after all."
"You're horrible," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
Ron let go of her hand and turned so that he was in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. Slowly, he walked towards her, and Hermione was surprised when her back brushed up against the wall. Ron pressed his hand up against it, leaned down, kissed her, and whispered, "But you like it."