Here is, as promised, the second chapter. I'm glad of the good reception this story has had so far. Thank you.
I forgot, in the introduction, to explain something about the POVs. I don't like to use many different POVs in HP fics, but in this story I use five different ones.
As in TFLDotW, Hermione's the main one. Most of the story is told from her perspective. We'll have Ron's POV, too, and even Harry's. I can't speak about the other two.
PART I
TALES OF NEW MYSTERIES
Chapter 2
Back to Grimmauld Place
She opened her eyes slowly, feeling how the tiredness that had overcome her was now vanishing. For a few seconds she felt completely lost, not knowing what had happened. But just a moment later, the memories of what had occurred in her house flooded her, making her almost jump on the bed on which she had been lying.
"Hermione!" she heard someone yell, and, less than a second later, she found herself in Ron's arms, tightly pressed against his strong chest. "Hermione, Hermione! Oh, Merlin, Hermione! How are you? Are you in pain? Oh, Hermione!" Ron muttered quickly, kissing her repeatedly on the top of her head, his voice almost broken and filled with anguish and fear. She put her own arms around him and relished in the proximity of his familiar body and his sweet scent. Unshed tears started to fill her eyes.
"I'm fine. I'm fine," she muttered, stroking his back with the same pace he was stroking her hair.
"When we arrived home and I saw you on the floor and completely still, I thought — I thought that — that —" His voice faded and he pressed her even more tightly against him, as if he didn't want to let her go ever again. And that would be perfectly fine for her.
"The baby," she said suddenly, pulling apart from him and looking at his worry-filled eyes with increasing fear. "Is the baby all right?"
"He's perfectly fine," assured Ron. "The healers checked you and everything's okay. Don't worry, love."
"She," said Hermione without really thinking about it, feeling a relief like never before wash over her upon hearing that her daughter was really going to be all right.
"What?" asked Ron, furrowing his brow. "What did you say?"
"She," repeated Hermione, looking into his eyes. "It's a girl, Ron."
"A — How do you know that?" Ron asked, putting his hands over her shoulders.
"He told me."
"Who?" asked Ron, his frown becoming more pronounced.
"The cloaked man that saved me."
"What cloaked man?" asked another voice.
Hermione looked towards her right, and, for the first time, realised she was in a bed in St Mungo, and that Ron and she were not alone. Harry was there, too, wearing the same concerned expression that covered Ron's face.
"Harry," she said, forcing a smile.
Harry smiled back, moved towards them, sat on the other side of the bed and grabbed her right hand. "How are you, Hermione? You don't imagine the fright you gave us."
"I thought I wouldn't see any of you again," she admitted, and felt new tears well up in her eyes.
"It's okay, love," she heard Ron say in a reassuring tone. "You're safe now. You're safe."
"What happened, Hermione?" asked Harry. "Who's that cloaked man you've mentioned?"
"I don't know," she said, shaking her head. "He was entirely covered by a cloak and a hood, so I didn't see his face. I only know that first he saved me, and then he healed me. I thought I was going to lose the baby, my abdomen hurt so much, and he healed me. He told me that you were on the way and that our daughter would be all right," she said, looking at Ron's face.
"That's why your wounds weren't as severe as they should be," commented Harry. "The healers told us you had only a few scratches and cuts on your back and legs, and given the state of the study, we found that a bit odd. One of them said that you seemed to have been partially healed. We thought that was ridiculous, but it turns out he was right, then."
"I was in a much worse state, believe me," she said, and let out a sob. "One of them kicked me in the stomach, Ron, se-several times," she confessed, and felt Ron's grip on her hand tighten.
"WHAT!" he almost yelled, his face contorted in fury. "Those fucking bastards!"
"They knew I was — am, pregnant. They wanted to kill us both, the baby and me. I've never been more scared in my life, Ron."
Ron pulled her against him once more, and caressed her hair soothingly while she sobbed against his chest, soaking his robes with her tears.
"Oh, God, Hermione!" Harry said, putting a hand over her right shoulder.
"And then he appeared, out of nowhere," she explained. "And he beat the three, in a second, before healing me."
"Three?" asked Harry. "There were four of them there."
"I blasted the one in the living room," she told them. "I ran up the stairs and threw a Blasting Curse at them. I wanted to kill them. I was ready to do anything necessary to protect our baby," she confessed, moving her head away a little and looking at Ron's face. He kissed her on the forehead.
"That's my girl," he said, and then moved his mouth downwards and gave her a kiss on the lips. She grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him against her, overwhelmed by the need to feel him. She knew that probably they were making Harry feel a bit uncomfortable, but, right now, she didn't care, and she knew that Harry would understand.
After a while, they both pulled apart, and Hermione leaned against the headboard, brushing her face to wipe away her tears.
"What happened, Hermione?" Harry asked, adopting automatically a more professional demeanour. "How did they break the wards?"
"I don't know," she answered and couldn't help a shudder. Ron took her left hand in his and gave her a comforting squeeze. "It was half past five, more or less. I had just arrived home and was putting my bag on the table when I heard the door open. At first, I thought it was Ron, but, when I turned round, I saw them. They were smirking at me, and one of them, who seemed to be their leader, threw a Cruciatus Curse at me without any word or any kind of warning or threat. I hid behind the couch and then retaliated, but I knew they had the upper hand, as they had a clear numerical advantage, so I managed to run towards the stairs and went up to the second floor. As I told you before, I blasted one of them from the top of the staircase and then I hid in our bedroom."
"Did you try to Disapparate?" Ron asked, still holding her hand.
"Yes, but I couldn't. I suppose they put some anti-Apparition charm around the house before breaking into it."
"Yes," nodded Harry. "We couldn't Apparate into the house, either, and your wards should have allowed us to." Harry fell silent and looked down, his expression thoughtful. But a moment later, he looked at her again and asked her to continue.
"Once I found out I was unable to escape, I saw another two Death Eaters coming up, and I almost managed to hit them. Didn't do it, but threw them down the stairs. I was going to send you a Patronus, but then they blasted the floor from below and I fell into the study and lost my wand. They —" she made a pause and looked down, "they started to torture me, and kicked me. They were going to kill me when he appeared."
Ron clutched her hand more tightly with his left, and Hermione saw he was clenching his right fist so tightly she feared he was going to sink his nails into his own palm. She squeezed his hand, trying to convey the message that she was all right, but his expression only hardened.
"You don't know what I felt when we found you there. I wanted to kill them with my bare hands," confessed Ron, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth.
"We were so worried about you," continued Harry. "You seemed to be okay, but were unconscious and —" he stopped talking, looked at her and frowned. "Why? You told us that man had healed you. Why were you unconscious?"
"He told me I just needed to rest, and suddenly I felt very tired. I don't remember anything more."
"He put a Sleeping Charm on you?" asked Ron, frowning.
Hermione shrugged. "I don't know what he did. It didn't feel like magic, to tell you the truth. I mean, he didn't have a wand."
"What do you mean 'he didn't have a wand?'" asked Harry, surprised. "How did he beat those men, then?"
"With his hands," explained Hermione. "I don't know how; don't ask me. One of them hit him with a Stunning Spell and nothing happened. And then he just moved so quickly and beat them all in a second." Ron and Harry exchanged a glance. "I know it's strange," she continued. "I had never heard of such magic. He didn't use a wand to heal me, either. He just put his hand over me and I suddenly felt much better. And then he told me you were on your way ..." She looked at Ron and then at Harry. "Why were you coming? Did you know something?"
"Ron's mum sent us a message," explained Harry. "She said that she walked into the house and saw that your hand was pointing at 'Mortal Peril.' We headed for your house with a team immediately."
"What time is it?" she asked, looking all around her for a clock.
"Half past six," answered Ron. "When the healer checked you and said you were all right, we didn't want to disturb you. He said that some rest would do you good."
"Those men are already imprisoned, Hermione," said Harry, looking at her apologetically. "We'll make sure they don't harm anyone else ever again."
Those words made Hermione remember something else.
"Before putting me to sleep, he told me something," she said. She made a pause and looked at Ron and Harry, who were watching her intensely. "He told me that terrible things are going to happen, and that we had to prepare ourselves for the worst."
"For the worst?" Harry asked. "But he didn't tell you what exactly is going to happen?"
Hermione shook her head. "No, but maybe it is related to the fact that those four men were working for someone."
"Working for someone?" repeated Ron, and exchanged a new glance with Harry. "Did they tell you that?" he asked, focusing his eyes back on her.
"I heard the one that seemed to be their leader tell them that the mission was the only thing that mattered."
"Mission," repeated Harry, concerned and furious. "So they're organised." He looked down, deep in thought, and then turned towards Ron. "There's no point in going back to the Ministry now. I'll be there at 8 o'clock and start working. Hermione, at some point, you'll have to give us a full account of what happened, sorry," he added apologetically, his expression softer.
"Don't be," she said, giving him a reassuring smile. "I know what I have to do."
"Let's forget this for now, shall we?" suggested Ron. "Mum, Ginny and the rest are out there waiting for you to wake up so they can fuss over you," he explained, and smiled a bit, though Hermione noticed the smile didn't fill his eyes completely. He was just trying to appear calm and unconcerned for her sake, and she loved him for it. "Dad has gone to fetch your parents and they should be about to arrive, if they're not here already."
Harry got to his feet, exited the room and a moment later was walking back in, followed by an anxious-looking Mrs Weasley, a worried Ginny, George, and Bill, the latter two wearing serious expressions on their faces.
"Hermione, dear!" exclaimed Mrs Weasley upon seeing her, and almost threw herself over her daughter-in-law when she enveloped her in a hug. "How are you? Are you all right?" she asked, checking her out. "Oh, I was so worried! When I saw your hand pointing at mortal peril, I thought I was going to pass out!"
"I'm fine, Molly," said Hermione, forcing herself to put a smile on her face. "It's all over. And thank you. Ron and Harry wouldn't have known that I was in danger if it wasn't for you."
"It's nothing, it's nothing," said Mrs Weasley dismissively. "I asked for a nice cup of tea for you; is that all right?" she added. "I think it'll do you a lot of good."
"Thanks, Molly," said Hermione appreciatively. "I really want one."
"What happened, Hermione?" asked Ginny.
A nurse entered the room in that precise moment with a steaming cup of tea for Hermione. She said, "Thank you," took a sip that did wonders to her and then started to explain. However, when she reached the part of the story in which the stranger appeared, Harry took over and told them that Ron, he and the rest of the team had arrived and stopped them, catching them by surprise. Upon hearing this, she and Ron exchanged a quick glance and then looked at Harry, trying to suppress their expressions of bewilderment. And for a moment, Hermione felt as if they had gone back seven years, to the time when the three of them had shared so many secrets during the war against Voldemort; she realised that their bond not only wasn't weaker, but it was even stronger, if that was possible.
"I thought there weren't any Death Eaters free," commented Bill, looking alternatively at Harry and Ron.
"There weren't," confirmed Harry, who looked worried and thoughtful. "Those who fled after the Battle of Hogwarts are in prison, just like the snatchers. We didn't know there were more of them."
"I don't know if they were Death Eaters under Voldemort's regime," interjected Hermione. "I called them that because it was the only name that suited them."
"They'll be interrogated tomorrow and then we'll know," said Harry.
At that moment, Mr Weasley entered the room, followed by the Grangers, who looked, the both of them, extremely pale.
Jean Granger embraced her daughter tightly, and her husband followed suit. After that, they started asking questions, but this time Ron told the story, so Hermione didn't have to repeat it.
"Do you have to spend the night in the hospital?" asked her father.
"No," answered Ron for her. "She is perfectly fine. She just needs to rest."
"And where are you going?" William asked.
"Home," replied Ron, not understanding the question at all. "Where else?"
"By what you said, your house is a wreck right now. Didn't you mention they almost blew up your bedroom?"
"Oh!" said Ron, scratching his head in thought. "Yeah, you're right."
"Besides, the wards have to be checked," added Harry. "It'd be better if you don't go there tonight."
"You can come to The Burrow," offered Mrs Weasley quickly.
"Or to our house," added Hermione's mother.
"Go to Grimmauld Place," interjected Harry, and everyone stared at him.
"Grimmauld Place?" repeated Hermione. She hadn't set foot there since the time the three of them had been on the run.
"I don't use it, but Kreacher loves it and you know I keep it clean and ready, just in case," explained Harry. "It's still under the Fidelius Charm and protected by all those enchantments Dumbledore set up when it was the Order Headquarters. It's safe there."
Ron and Hermione looked at each other.
"What do you think?" he asked her.
"It's fine, I suppose. It will be only for one night, won't it?"
"Yes, we'll repair the house tomorrow and check the wards."
Harry nodded at them, and saying that he was going to get everything ready, left the room.
The Grangers and the Weasleys stayed for another half an hour. When they decided it was time to leave, since Hermione and the baby seemed to be completely fine, Mr Weasley took the Grangers back home and the rest of them left, so only Harry — who had already returned — and Ginny remained there with Ron and Hermione.
A few minutes later, a tall but thin healer with very black hair walked into the room. He looked at her with very penetrating light grey eyes, and Hermione had the sudden impression that he could examine her without a wand, just by looking at her.
"Mrs Granger," he said after a few seconds, "all tests show that you're all right, so you're free to leave whenever you want." He looked at Ron for a few moments before adding, "Just make sure she rests well tonight."
Ron nodded.
"Thanks for everything, Mr — eh ..."
"Adder, Aldus Adder," completed the healer with a little smile.
"Thank you, Healer Adder."
"Don't thank me, mistress," replied Adder, his voice stern, his eyes boring into hers. "Thank the person that healed you before you were brought here," he finished slowly, and then, with a nod, left the room.
Hermione turned her head to look at her friends and husband, and saw that Ginny was looking at them with an odd expression.
"Ginny?" she said. "What's the matter?"
Ron and Harry turned to look at Ginny, too.
"What did he mean, 'thank the person that healed you before you were brought here?' Who healed you?"
Ron, Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance. Ginny saw it and scowled at them.
"No, not again," she said, staring at Harry, and her scowl intensified. "We're no longer at Hogwarts. I don't want you three to start sharing secrets again. I'm your wife, Harry, not the sister of your best friend."
Sighing, Hermione told her everything about the cloaked man.
"But don't tell anyone, Ginny," Harry warned her once Hermione stopped talking. "We need to know who this man is."
Ginny didn't say anything, still shocked by what she had heard. She pulled a strand of hair off her face and looked at Hermione. "Well, it's obvious he's a friend, isn't it?" she commented. "He saved Hermione."
"But why didn't he tell her who he was?" replied Harry. "Why didn't he show his face?"
"Why didn't Snape reveal himself when he gave you the Sword of Gryffindor?" countered Ginny, folding her arms over her chest. "He had his reasons. But he saved Hermione, and that should be enough for us." She rounded on Hermione. "Didn't you find anything recognisable in him?"
"His voice sounded a bit familiar," responded Hermione, "But I couldn't place it."
"Well," said Harry, rubbing his eyes wearily, "it is obvious we aren't going to solve this mystery tonight. We'd better go home. Kreacher will have everything ready for you two." He got closer to Hermione and gave her a hug and a kiss on her forehead. "Sleep well, Hermione."
"Thanks for everything, Harry."
Harry raised a hand dismissively, and, after Ginny had hugged Hermione and Ron, they both left.
As Hermione hadn't been in the hospital for long, she hadn't had her robes changed, so she simply got out of the bed and Ron and she left the room hand in hand. They went down to the reception area, and once there, they both used one of the fireplaces to get to the kitchen of Number twelve, Grimmauld Place.
Once she stepped out, she was gladly surprised to find the fire lit and the kitchen warm and welcoming, which was a relief given that it was November. The table was set, and a pot was steaming on the stove. Hermione looked around, a bit unsure, and a shiver ran down her body. She put her arms around her as if she was cold and was trying to get warm.
"Hermione? Are you okay? Are you cold?" asked Ron, a bit concerned, while he rubbed her arms up and down with his big, warm hands, sending another shiver down her spine, though this time a pleasant one. "Do you want me to put a few Warming Charms here?"
"No," she said, shaking her head, and smiled at him. "It's just ... it feels strange, to be here, after so long."
"Yeah, it does," he nodded. "It'll be just for one night."
"I know."
Ron turned round to face the stove, and said, in a much lighter tone. "I'm famished. What do you think Kreacher is cooking for us?"
Hermione smiled warmly upon hearing him. It was obvious that he was still upset, perhaps even more upset than she. She was almost sure that he had found a way to blame himself for what had happened to her, but he was trying to act normally, to lighten the mood, and she loved him for it.
"I —" she started to say. She was going to say 'I don't care as long as it is edible' but Kreacher's voice interrupted her.
"Onion soup," he said, entering the kitchen. "Kreacher remembers it was a favourite of Master Weasley and Mistress Granger, and thought it would be nice."
Ron beamed at him. "More than nice, Kreacher, thanks," he said.
"And there is a delicious chocolate pudding for after," Kreacher added, walking to the pot and checking it, which caused a delicious smell to spread throughout the kitchen.
"Merlin bless you," Ron said, and then turned his head and looked at her with that grin on his face and that gleam in his eyes that made him look as if he hadn't grown up at all and were still that childish boy she had fallen in love with.
"I went up to check the fire in master and mistress' bedroom," the elf continued. "Everything is ready. You'll be staying in old Master Harry and Master Weasley's room. Is that all right?"
"More than all right. Thank you very much, Kreacher," said Hermione, and smiled at him. "But, please, stop calling us 'masters;' you know you don't have to do it."
"Kreacher knows very well. Mistress reminds him of it every time," Kreacher told her, "but, while Kreacher appreciates the laws Mistress has passed on house elves' wellbeing, Kreacher feels better if he treats his masters with the proper respect."
Hermione was going to argue, as she did every time she ran into Kreacher, but Ron put a hand on her left shoulder. "Drop it, Hermione. Today's not the day. Is the soup ready? It smells wonderful and I'm dying here."
"It is," Kreacher said, beaming at Ron's compliment. "Sit down and Kreacher will serve you."
"Thank you, Kreacher, but that's not —" Hermione started to say, but fell silent when Ron shook his head at her. Sighing, she sat down on one chair, and Ron did the same beside her.
The soup was delicious and pleasantly hot, and Hermione felt that it had a soothing effect on her. Neither she nor Ron talked a lot during dinner, but it was fine with her. She noticed, though, that Ron kept throwing glances at her every minute or so, and, although she acted as if she wasn't aware of it, Ron's concern made her feel much better. His love was the perfect antidote to the hate she had experienced during the attack.
After the onion soup, Kreacher offered them roast chicken, and then the chocolate pudding he had mentioned before. Hermione didn't felt very hungry, but Ron made her eat a good helping of everything. Once they had finished, Kreacher cleaned the table and the dishes magically, ignoring Hermione's pleas claiming that she or Ron would do it, and told them that if they didn't need anything more, he would go back to Master Harry and Mistress Ginny's.
Saying that everything was perfect, both Ron and Hermione thanked him and then left the kitchen and started climbing the stairs.
"I've gotta go to the bathroom," said Ron when they reached the first floor, taking her hand and squeezing it. "See you in a minute, okay?"
She nodded, and then, not knowing really why, turned round and headed for the drawing room slowly, observing all the little changes Harry had made to the house.
There was no longer anything dark in the building. All the rooms had been completely cleaned and were ready in case anyone needed them. Well, all of them except Sirius' and Regulus' rooms. Those had been left in their previous state, as a tribute to the Blacks that had given their lives trying to defeat Voldemort. That was part of the reason Harry kept the house in this state, always ready. He had said that the house had helped Voldemort's enemies on two occasions, when it had become the Order Headquarters and when the three of them had sought refuge after the Ministry downfall, and that was what it was always going to be: a safe place for the enemies of the Dark Arts.
Hermione opened the door and then leaned against the doorframe, watching the room in which they had slept that first night, after having to flee from the Burrow. She felt those old memories flood her, and as always, she became amazed thinking about it all. Now that she was twenty-six, whenever she saw a Hogwarts student, who looked so young, so unconcerned, she couldn't help but wonder how they had been able to do what they had done at that age.
She shivered all of a sudden, and, almost unconsciously, her hands covered her belly. She had thought, had believed, that they had left all that fear, all that pain and hate, and all those terrible things, behind them in the past; but it seemed they had been horribly wrong.
"What are you doing?"
Hermione let out a scream and gave an involuntary start, frightened by the unexpected question.
"Ron!" she scolded, turning round to look at him.
"Sorry, Hermione," he said apologetically. "I didn't mean to frighten you. What were you thinking about that had you so lost in thought?"
Hermione turned round again, facing away from him, before answering his question. "Do you remember our first night here, after escaping those Death Eaters in that café?"
"Of course I remember," Ron answered, moving until he was next to her. He put an arm around her shoulders, and then pulled her towards him, so she was leaning against him instead of against the doorframe.
"I was so scared," confessed Hermione. "Do you remember that I told you I was glad that your family was safe but that the whole event had made me remember my parents?"
"Yeah," said Ron.
"And you just took my hand in yours and squeezed it in the darkness," Hermione continued. "I couldn't see you, and I knew you couldn't see me, and yet I could feel you eyes on me, and I found myself smiling, feeling a lot better." She turned her head and looked up at him, intensely. Ron fixed his eyes on hers, and she noticed how he gulped due to the intensity of their locked gazes. Then she lifted her right hand, slowly, and caressed his face gently. "I loved you even more that day. I just wanted to shout it, and then ask you to sleep with me so I could lie in your arms the whole night, even if it was completely inappropriate."
Ron smiled at her and then turned his head a bit to put a kiss on her palm.
"I would have died of a heart attack if you had suggested that," he said with a slight grin.
Hermione didn't return the smile, but continued to stare into his blue eyes, feeling the events of the day wash over her, mixed with memories of fear and pain from the war.
"Take me to bed, Ron."
Ron hesitated for a moment, and then he took her in his arms. She put her own around his neck, and, without breaking their eye connection, he walked to the door of the room Kreacher had prepared for them. Hermione felt him reach out with his hand — being careful not to drop her — and turn the doorknob. Once inside, he closed the door again with his foot.
The room was pleasantly warm. Kreacher surely had put a Warming Charm on it. The king size bed was ready, too, and couldn't look more cosy and welcoming. All the portraits had been removed from the walls.
But Hermione barely noticed any of this. She had all her attention focused on Ron, and, before he could put her on the bed, she pulled his head against hers and kissed him full on the mouth, with all the passion she could muster.
She didn't know what had got into her. But the events of the day, the pain, the fear, and now the memories of the times of the war were making her feel very emotional. When she was lying in the study, with the Death Eaters surrounding her, she had almost convinced herself that she wouldn't see Ron again, and now that she had him with her, now that the two of them were alone, she could not suppress her urges and needs anymore.
At first, Ron simply stood there, too shocked to respond, but soon he was kissing her with equal passion and need. He pushed his warm tongue against her lips and she gladly took it inside, welcoming it with her own.
Ron started moving his hands up and down her back, and Hermione, to avoid falling onto the floor, manoeuvred so she could wrap her legs around his waist, while her hands caressed the back of his neck and his flaming hair.
After a few minutes of frenzied snogging, Hermione put her legs down and pushed Ron against the bed, without stopping the kiss. She was almost breathless, but she simply couldn't stop; she couldn't get enough of him, of his kisses, or of the little noises he was making.
When the need for air was almost unbearable, she parted from him, leaving both of them panting hard, and started kissing his neck, eliciting a new moan from him. Her right hand travelled from the back of his neck to his chest, and stroking its way downwards, she finally reached the growing bulge in his trousers, which she grabbed softly, in the way she knew drove Ron wild. Ron let out a gasp of surprise and pleasure, and Hermione smiled against his neck, without stopping covering it with kisses.
"Herm — Hermione ... Oh, Merlin!" he moaned when she, instead of stopping, started to caress his cock a bit more quickly, making him completely hard in seconds.
Feeling more and more needy and desperate, she pushed Ron backwards, making him fall on the bed, and, with a flick of her wand, had him completely naked in a second.
"Hermione!" Ron shouted, a bit shocked. But Hermione didn't bother to answer him. She just took off her robes as quick as she could, leaving herself in only her skirt and black cotton bra. She paused just a moment to contemplate the still astonished Ron, whose eyes darted immediately to her breasts, making her body tingle pleasurably, and then she let her eyes wander over his pale and freckled skin, his strong — but not too much — chest, his long legs and, finally, his erect cock. "Hermione," Ron said, in a low and hoarse voice, "What — oh, fuck!"
Instead of answering, or saying anything else, she had just bent over and taken his cock in her mouth. Feeling the incredible surge of power she always felt whenever she did this to him, she moved her hands over his thighs, stroking them. Ron spread his legs a bit more, giving her more space. She focused completely on his hard cock, sucking it forcefully, bobbing her head up and down with increasing speed. She could feel his moans and quick pants. She knew that he wanted — or needed — her to touch his balls, and that by not doing so she was torturing him. He was moving his hands all over the bed, whilst he opened and closed his fists uncontrollably, his entire body consumed by passion and pleasure.
Dominated by her own lust and need to feel, Hermione increased the speed at which she was bobbing up and down her head, and finally moved her right hand to cup his balls, making Ron hiss in pleasure. His pants quickened, and she felt his cock twitch in her mouth.
Hermione gave him a few more sucks and then released him. Staring into his bulging eyes, she wiggled out of her skirt and then crawled over him slowly, now clad only in her black cotton bra and knickers.
Ron blinked quickly a few times, still breathing hard, and stared at her, his eyes dark with lust. Without breaking eye contact, Hermione reached behind her and unclasped her bra, throwing it to the side. Ron's eyes focused immediately on her now bare breasts. She was well aware they weren't too big — in fact, she was sure they were smaller that the average — but Ron seemed to worship them, and the hungry look with which he always looked at them was a great turn on for her.
Hermione straddled his waist, but being careful not to touch him, knowing that this would excite him even more. She wanted him to lose all self-control, to be completely himself and give her everything he had and nothing less. She felt possessed by a maddening need, by the irrepressible necessity to feel and to have him — body, mind and soul; to be reminded of the reasons to keep going and fighting. Forever, if it was necessary.
So, dominated by these impulses and feelings, her eyes locked with his, both of them gazing at the other so intensely that they were even trying not to blink, she grabbed his right hand and, without hesitation, put it inside her knickers and against her cunt, making him feel how incredibly aroused and needy she was. Automatically, Ron pressed his hand against her, cupping her sex and making her gasp in pleasure. He opened his eyes wide and glanced downwards, as if he couldn't believe what she had done.
"Touch me, Ron," she said, her voice husky and demanding. "Please, touch me and make — make me come."
Those words seemed to cause something to click in Ron's mind, and he frowned slightly, the lust in his eyes being partially replaced by concern.
"Hermione ..." he started to say. "I think you're not all right. Maybe you — you should rest."
"NO!" Hermione shouted, startling him. To prove her point, she just pressed herself against his hand, letting out a moan, and then put her right one against his over her knickers to prevent him from taking it from the place it was.
"Hermione," Ron repeated, lifting his other hand to caress her face, "you — you endured a terrible experience today. The healers said you have to rest ..." he must have noticed the disappointment in her face, because he added quickly, "It is not that I don't want this — believe me, I reckon it's evident I want it, but maybe we should just sleep."
Hermione pressed herself against him once more, and bent over so her face was above his, his lips inches away from hers, her hair cascading around both their faces. "I don't want to rest. I don't need rest. You are right," she said, and she realised, a bit alarmed, that she was almost sobbing, "I endured something terrible today. I thought I was going to die." She used her right hand to take his left one and press it against her bare belly. "I thought I was going to lose our child, Ron. And now we're here and I have all these memories ..." She shook her head. "What I need, Ron, is you. I need you to make me feel alive; I need you to make me feel loved. I want to experience pleasure and love and life, Ron, with you. I want us three to be joined together in the most complete way possible." They both stared at each other for a few moments, gulping, their throats dry due to the intensity of the feelings they were experiencing.
"Make me feel alive, Ron. When I remember this day, I want to think of this night and not of what happened earlier. Please, save the memory of this day."
Ron stared at her for a moment, looking into her eyes as if he was trying to see her own soul, and then, suddenly, he put his left hand behind her head and brought her mouth to his, starting a passionate snog at the same time that his hand began to move inside her knickers. Almost instantly, a wave of pleasure coursed through her body. Their kiss grew in passion, while Ron's fingers started to move a bit more quickly, now focusing on her clit and eliciting muffled moans of pleasure from her.
Unable to resist the kissing and the touching, and needing to breathe, Hermione raised her torso a bit, and arched her back so Ron's hand was trapped between their bodies, increasing the friction. A moment later, she felt Ron's other hand on her breasts, stroking and kneading them, adding to the incredible sensations she was experiencing. Next, he slid his middle finger inside her, pressing his palms against her mound and clit, and she cried in pleasure. Her hips were now grinding out of control, her entire body on fire. She made an effort to open her eyes, and her gaze locked with his. Ron was staring at her with absolute adoration, and Hermione knew instantly that this was not enough, that this was not what she wanted; so, with all her willpower, she grabbed the hand moving under her knickers to still it, and then pulled it out. It was completely soaked in her juices, and the sight aroused her even more.
Without losing a second, she took off her knickers, almost falling on the bed in her hurry, and, once completely naked, she grabbed Ron's cock and stroked it a few times, making him gasp and moan and arch his back off the bed.
"Merlin, Ron, I want you — I need you," she confessed between ragged breaths.
"Oh, fuck, Hermione, I — I need you too," he responded. His hands went to her waist and, with a quick movement, lifted her body and positioned it above his cock. Wanting the same as he, she didn't lose a second and slid her cunt down his shaft, eliciting a moan of relief from both of them.
They stilled for a moment, relishing the feeling of being joined in the most intimate way possible, and then Ron thrust upwards, using his hands on her hips to move her in the opposite direction. Hermione arched her back and started to move up and down on his cock. She was on the brink of orgasm, completely consumed by lust and love and need. Ron's hands travelled to her arse, and she felt them caressing it roughly, helping her to press harder against him.
The tempo of their thrusts increased; each movement was quicker and more forceful than the previous one. Hermione put her hands on Ron's chest to have more leverage, and felt his hands move all over her body, as if two of them were not enough for him to touch her in all the places he wanted. Finally, he made her bend over so he could take her breasts in his mouth, sucking on them greedily, while one of his hands was on her arse, pressing her against him, as if he wanted their bodies to melt together.
"Hermione, I love — your — tits," Ron moaned between alternate sucks to her nipples, and the lust in his husky voice only got her closer to her impending orgasm.
"They're yours, Ron," she moaned, putting one of her hands behind his head to press him more forcefully against her chest. "I'm yours."
Suddenly, Ron slid his right hand between their sweaty bodies until he was touching her swollen clit with two fingers, causing an incredible friction every time she grinded against him. She felt like she was going into overdrive, and sat up straight on him again, her breathing quickening. Ron put his other hand on her breasts, and she felt herself near the edge.
Not with a little effort, she opened her eyes and looked down at him — at his sweaty hair, his flushed face and his naked chest. Ron, as if sensing that she was watching him, opened his eyes, too, and they locked gazes once more.
It was as if that second expanded to last minutes, or hours, and then he moved his fingers a bit quicker, and thrust upwards harder than before, and Hermione felt her entire body explode with absolute pleasure.
"OH, GOD, RON! RON!"
"Yes, love, cum, cum for me!"
Her hips started to move on their own accord, and, during a few blissful seconds, nothing existed in the world except love and pure physical pleasure.
Unable to hold herself, she fell over Ron, her body still trembling with aftershocks, and Ron put his hands on her arse and kept thrusting, prolonging her orgasm and making her feel dizzy and drugged.
Finally, he stopped moving, and they both lay there, she on him, both of them panting heavily. But Hermione knew he had not finished, and started to move despite that her body felt like jelly, thinking that surely he wanted to finish fucking her from behind.
But Ron had other ideas. Before she could do anything, he simply rolled them over, so that he was on top, and, fixing his eyes on hers, started to thrust like mad, putting one hand under her arse to press her against him, and the other under her neck as to embrace her.
"Oh, Ron!"
"Hermione, you are — so — beautiful, so delicious. Merlin, I want to do this forever!"
"Yes, Ron, don't stop. Don't ever stop!"
And Ron didn't. Hermione opened her eyes, despite the intensity of the sensations she was feeling due to how hard he was fucking her and how sensitive she still was, and stared at him, marvelled at the sight of his closed eyes and slightly open mouth while he moved at top speed in and out of her. Ron opened his eyes in that moment, and she knew that he was close. Knowing him, she arched her back a bit, and, as expected, his eyes focused immediately on her breasts. Groaning huskily, he took one in her mouth, not gently, making her moan, and she felt him thrust even harder, until, just a second later, he arched his back, went as deep inside her as possible, threw his head upwards and screamed his release, his body convulsing in extreme pleasure above hers.
"OH, fuck, HERMIONE! Yes, yes, yes, aah!"
Ron fell on her, but making sure not to crush her, and she immediately embraced him, feeling their combined wetness and his cock slip slowly out of her. He covered her face with sweet kisses, grinning, an expression of utter bliss etched upon his face, and she smiled back at him.
"I love you, Ron."
"I love you, Hermione."
"Thank you," she said, cupping his face and giving him a slow and loving kiss.
Ron raised his head a bit and looked at her in confusion. "'Thank you'? I should be the one thanking you, believe me," he said, rolling off her. She felt a bit cold and empty all of a sudden, but, just a moment later, he put one arm under her and pulled her against him so their bodies were once more as close as possible.
"Thank you, for making me feel alive, and worthy, and loved."
Ron stared at her for a few seconds. Then, leaving her a bit taken aback, he moved them so he could pull off the blankets. He lay beside her once more and covered them. Hermione smiled and snuggled into him, silently thanking him.
Ron made her look at him and then put his right hand on her abdomen, above the place where their baby was growing.
"Hermione, you and the —" he stopped abruptly and smiled, "our daughter, are my life. I'd do anything for you. Anything. You know I've never loved a girl who wasn't you. And certainly, there's not a person in this world that is worth more than you."
Feeling even more in love with him, she pulled his mouth against hers, and they kissed and kissed until both of them fell asleep in the arms of the other.
Next chapter will be posted on Friday. Until then, have a good week.