CHAPTER FOUR
Hermione and I have settled into a routine since she started working at the Ministry – no surprise there, few things turn Hermione on more than a well-planned timetable.
Believe it or not, I don't mind schedules much anymore. After living on the run for a year – hell, after living life as Harry's best mate for over eight years – it's kind of nice to have some predictability. For example, I like knowing the Ministry canteen has cottage pie on Mondays and chocolate gateau on Thursdays.
It's comforting to know we'll all meet for tea at the Burrow on Sunday, and that my squad will gather for drinks at my Squad Leader's local pub every Friday. Cooper likes us to get together off duty and away from the Ministry, says it builds 'team unity'. I think he just likes the company. Rumour has it, his wife's a Muggleborn who left for Canada once Umbitch started her Inquisition; apparently Mrs. Cooper hasn't decided to return to England yet.
Tonight's Muggle Pub Night, so I invited Hermione to join me, just like I do every Friday – and just like every other week, she declined. Guess that's part of our routine now too.
Harry was all mopey and complaining because his girlfriend was hidden away in Wales at a secret training facility while I was going to get to see my girl everyday. I promptly reminded him exactly how Hermione acts when she buries herself in something.
Unfortunately, I was right.
She might as well be in Wales for as much as I get to see her.
Sure, the first few days she met Harry and me for lunch – by the end of the week she was 'just too busy.'
As predicted, the busier she got, the less often she'd meet us.
That's not to say we don't get together after work a couple times a week, or on the weekends. Every now and then I even manage to convince her to sneak into a supply cupboard with me, but those moments are few and far between.
But she hasn't spent another full night at my flat, not since her parents returned from their holiday in France.
What a freaking' amazing weekend that was though. After a thorough ravishing on the kitchen table, I convinced Hermione to give the enlarged tub a go – and it was fan-bloody-tastic! Getting clean has never been so dirty.
The inevitable nightmare came that night – visions of Anderson, his blood and his crying wife, images that swirled into me covered in blood and Hermione screaming with fear. Rather than waking to the usual empty bed, I startled awake and Hermione was lying right there next to me, her arms wrapped tight around me. I thought for certain she'd try to get me to bloody talk about it. Instead, she just kissed all over my body, telling me how much she loved me, how grateful she was that I was all right, until finally I was deep inside her again, where nothing existed but me and her.
Wish we could have spent the whole two days doing nothing but shagging. Unfortunately I had to work my shift at the Wheezes all day Saturday. It was bloody amazing to come home and find her curled up on my bed reading. Would have been better if she'd been naked, but a bloke can't have everything.
On Sunday we stopped by her parents' place so she could change for Ginny's party. I couldn't convince her to have a go up in her room (not for lack of trying), though I did get a seriously mind addling snog – complete with groping. Thank Merlin she's not as uptight about doing it at my parents' place, otherwise I'd still be a virgin.
Course that Monday Hermione started work at the Ministry – and it all went to Hell. Don't get me wrong; I'm thrilled she's working with Magical Creatures. I'm just not chuffed about how hard she's working.
Wonder what she'd do if I marched in that tiny office hers, shielded the door and took her right there over her desk...
"Weasley!"
I'm ripped from my very wicked thoughts of defiling Hermione's ordered workspace by one of my teammates joining me, drink in hand.
"Brought you a pint."
"Cheers, Harvey!" Harvey's always good value, and I'm glad of the company.
"So, how are you holding up?" Harvey asks.
"Holding up? What do you mean?"
"Don't play dumb with me, Weasley. I was there that night – with Anderson. You can't go through something like that and not have it affect you."
"Yeah, well…"
"Have the nightmares stopped?"
I'm tempted to lie and say there were no nightmares, but Harvey would see right through me. Finally I confess: "Mostly."
"It takes time."
I take a long pull of my ale, wishing we could change the subject to Quidditch or something. Hell, I'd even settle for a discussion of cauldron bottom thickness at this point.
"Take comfort in knowing you did the right thing. It may not seem like it, but you really did make a difference."
I manage a quick nod in response. Sensing my discomfort, Harvey squeezes my forearm and says, "If you ever want to talk…"
"Thanks."
Harvey sits back and surveys the barroom, laughing suddenly. "Looks like Quinn's making his move – not that it appears to be working."
Archie Quinn's in our squad, he was in the same Auror class as Harvey, just a few years ahead of me. His libido is almost as big as his ego.
Honestly I think he's a total arse. I admit, I take a perverse pleasure in watching him attempt to work his own 'special magic' with the ladies.
I look over my shoulder to see what unsuspecting woman Quinn's set his sights on tonight.
Fuck no! What the devil is she–
I jump to my feet, almost knocking over my chair in the process, and shout: "Hermione!" Rushing across the crowded pub, I reach her just as she gets to the door.
"Hermione?" I wrap a hand around her arm and turn her around to face me. "Why were you leaving? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," she mumbles – not looking at all fine to me.
"What the fuck did that arse say to you? I swear to God, Hermione, I'll beat Quinn's ruddy ugly face until his own mother won't recognise him–"
"No!" She clutches at me, trying to prevent me from bashing the bloody tosser. "It wasn't him…"
"Then what's the problem?" She shakes her head, trying to convince me it's nothing, but she's biting her lip and avoiding my eyes, so it's obvious to me she has something on her mind.
I decide to try a different tactic. Leading her away from the door and over to a quiet spot by the wall, I rub my hands up and down her crossed arms. "I didn't think you'd be able to make it, what changed your mind?"
"My parents were out for the evening, the house was just so quiet… I was lonely." She stares into my eyes and whispers, "I missed you."
"I'm glad you're here," I tell her, kissing her forehead. She grants me a small smile. "Come meet the rest of the squad, I promise they aren't all wankers like Quinn."
She stiffens again. "No thank you. I think I'll be heading home."
"Home? Oh come on, Hermione… you just got here."
"It doesn't seem as though you've been missing my company."
What the fuck has her knickers so twisted?
"What's the problem? Its just drinks with the lads, same as every week."
"Lads?" She cries, waving a hand at the bar.
I look over and see Cooper having a laugh with Murtagh, Quinn's spotted some new prey, while Harvey's ordering another round… Wait, Harvey… could that be it?
"Hermione, is this about Harvey?"
"Harvey?"
"Yeah, well, Lindsay… Lindsay Harvey." I nod toward the blond at the bar, who spots me and flashes a dimpled smile.
"Is that her name?" she says tetchily. Brrrrr is it cold in here? I can't help but laugh.
"Glad to know you find my discomfort so amusing Ron. Maybe I should just leave you to Harvey, then." She starts heading for the door in a huff. I yank her back before she can get too far.
I cannot seriously believe Hermione is jealous, especially of Lindsay. I mean, yeah, I guess I can see it from Hermione's perspective. Lindsay's pretty tall for a girl, long legs, fit body, nice big… well, anyway, none of that matters.
"Come on love, she's no threat; if anyone should be worried, it's me."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Let's just say, you're more her type than I am."
Her eyes suddenly widen in realisation – then quickly narrow again in doubt. "How do you know?"
"Well, Quinn's been trying to pull her for years–"
"That only proves she has taste, not that she's a lesbian."
"True," I concede. "There's also the fact that she told us."
"Really?"
"Yeah, she's totally open about it."
"Oh." She still doesn't seem all that convinced that Lindsay's harmless.
"Hermione," I take her face in my hands, "Even if she were interested, there's only you for me. You have to know that."
"I know." Her arms slip around my waist as I lean in to kiss her. Just as I'm about to suggest we head back to my place, I feel a hard slap on my back.
"Weasley, you dog!"
Buggering hell. "What do you want Quinn?" He seems a little put off by my intimidating stare; all that practising must be working.
The spell of my 'What the fuck is wrong with you, you bloody wanker' glare wears off pretty quickly: Quinn's back to being a full-blown arse.
"Thought you said you had a girlfriend, yet here you are pulling this fine bird." I do not like the way he's ogling Hermione, the fucking tosser.
"This is my girlfriend, Quinn." I pull Hermione tight against me. "Hermione, this is Archie Quinn."
"We've already met," Hermione says in her best McGonagall voice.
"Ah, but I didn't get your name before."
"Hermione Granger," she says, her tone cold enough to freeze the balls off a Centaur.
"THE Hermione Granger," he says with exaggerated reverence. "We were beginning to think you were the figment of our boy's imagination…"
Boy! Oi, watch it fucktard!
"… A tale he spun to hide his, uh, proclivities."
Did he just call me a poof?
"I assure you, I am quite real," Hermione says, burrowing closer into my arms.
"So I see…"
I swear if this toe-rag doesn't stop leering at my girl in the next 15 seconds, I'm going to shove his bloated head up his own arse. I feel Hermione squeeze my side, obviously reading my mind and trying to prevent any bloodshed.
"Anyway," Quinn says, finally tearing his eyes off Hermione, "I came over because it's your turn to buy a round, Weasley."
"Oh, uh… I think we were about to leave." And go back to my flat and shag each other senseless.
"You know the rules, Weasley. No one leaves without buying a round."
"Hermione?" I ask hesitantly, afraid she'll use this as an excuse to leave.
She surprises me with a brilliant smile, saying lightly, "It wouldn't do to have you shirking your responsibility, Ron."
"We'll be along in a minute, Quinn." I send him off and turn back to Hermione. "Thanks love, we don't have to stay long."
"No worries, you know how important I think rules are."
"Even Mum's rule about no closed doors?" I tease.
"Well, only the rules that make sense… Honestly, as if an open door would stop you when you're randy."
"Me? You were the one who–"
"That's neither here nor there," she cuts me off, adding a dismissive wave for emphasis. "I believe they're waiting for you," she says, heading toward the bar.
If I'm not mistaken, her walk's got a bit more arse wiggle than usual, the little minx.
I make my way to the bar and pay for everyone's drinks – I have to say, it's nice to have some money in my pocket for a change. I feel Hermione watching me closely as I handle the Muggle bills.
Once we're all seated back at the table, conversation jumps from topic to topic, with Quinn making crude comments and Murtagh telling us about the 'glory days' of being an Auror. To be honest, I'm feeling a mite bit uncomfortable sitting here between Hermione and Lindsay. Hermione's sipping her wine and watching Harvey, like she's trying to figure her out – and not particularly liking what she sees. I'm having flashbacks to the glares Hermione used to give Lavender back in Sixth Year. It's not pleasant.
I'm thinking of grabbing Hermione and getting the hell out of here when Cooper suddenly draws everyone's attention.
"Make sure you all get your affairs in order this weekend. The briefing is 6am Monday, with the Portkey set for 7:30."
"Portkey?" Hermione asks.
Shit! I haven't had the chance to tell her about the training exercise. Seems our squad is supposed to meet up with some foreign Aurors, some sort of International Magical Cooperation bullshit. Kingsley didn't tell us about it until earlier today and it had completely slipped my mind.
"Off to Paris for two weeks. Didn't Lover Boy here tell you?"
Fuck you, Quinn.
"P-Paris?" she stammers.
"Christ, I'm sorry Hermione, we only just found out about it… I didn't get the chance to tell you–"
"But why? And for two weeks?"
"Training," Lindsay pipes in. "Departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Law Enforcement are co-sponsoring a symposium with foreign governments to discuss training and investigation techniques."
"Sounds fascinating," Hermione says longingly. "You could really learn a lot, Ron. Be sure to pay attention."
Lindsay greets that suggestion with a giggle.
"Pardon me?" Hermione narrows her eyes at her perceived nemesis.
"Hard not to pay attention, when he's one of the lecturers," Lindsay says, sounding a touch boastful. "The whole reason our squad is going is because Kingsley's asked Ron to speak on tracking and concealment spells."
Wait for it…
"Wow, Ron!"
There it is, right on cue – the tone of surprise that I actually know what I'm doing.
"Yeah, I was shocked too," Quinn adds.
"That's not what I–" Hermione starts. Honestly, I don't care to hear anymore. I push away from the table with a mumble about getting another drink.
While I'm waiting for the barkeep, Lindsay walks up and signals for her own drink. Once she has hers in hand, she looks at me, shaking her head, and says, "Does she even know you?" before walking away.
I don't have the chance to think about Lindsay's words before Hermione appears beside me.
"Ron, I didn't mean–"
"Save it." I really don't want to hear it right now.
"But–"
"Look Hermione, it's been a long day. I'm exhausted. Let's just go home, we can talk about the Paris thing all you want. You are coming back to mine, yeah?"
"If you want me to."
I pull her to my side and give her a quick kiss on the temple. "I always want you to."
"So, where do we go to Appar– er, head home?"
"I usually just use the loo."
"The loo?" she asks, laughing.
"Yeah, why not? There's an alley round back, if you'd rather."
"No, no. Toilet's fine – lead the way."
I leave a few bills on the bar (probably too many, but too tired to care) and take Hermione's hand, leading her down the back hall.
"See you at home," she says with a smile before entering the women's toilet.
I walk into the men's, which is thankfully empty, turn on the spot and reappear inside the front door of my flat.
"Hermione?" I call out, heading into the lounge.
"In the kitchen, be right there!"
I flop onto the sofa and stretch my legs out on the tea table. Hermione appears with two steaming mugs.
"Thought I was the one who usually thinks of the kitchen when Apparating."
"Mmmm," Hermione hums, taking a sip of her tea as she curls up on the sofa beside me. "Figured you might want something a little less alcoholic before bed, since you have to be at the shop early tomorrow."
"Good thinking. Thanks"
We sit quietly for a few minutes, neither of us sure what to say.
"So… Paris." Hermione breaks the silence.
"Yeah."
"It's lovely there."
"Uh-huh."
"You should ask Fleur about Wizarding sights, or where to eat."
"Yeah, okay. I will." This forced polite conversation is killing me.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione decides to tackle what's really on her mind.
"Ron, I didn't mean to–"
"It's all right, Hermione. I was shocked too."
"I wasn't shocked!" she yells defensively.
"Okay, whatever." I take a sip of my tea in order to occupy my mouth so I don't say anything I might regret.
"Why do always you do that?" She slams her mug on the side table and turns on me.
"Do what?" I don't think my strategy of staying quiet is going to work.
"Always assume I'm thinking the worst about you?"
"Gee, Hermione, I can't imagine what you've ever done that would give me that impression," I spit back sarcastically, slamming my mug down too.
"Ron!"
"Looking over my shoulder like I'm a five year old who can't make proper change, acting like I can't Apparate across the room without splinching someone…"
"I never–"
"… Lecturing me on how to do my job, gasping in utter shock in front of my co-workers when you learn I've been singled out…"
"For the last time… I. Was. Not. Shocked!"
"Fine, then what do you call it?"
"Amazed, awed – proud!
I stammer, trying to come up with something to say, some sort of coherent response, finally just looking away in defeat.
"The locket was wrong, Ron," she whispers, climbing down the sofa and onto my lap. She clasps my face in her hands. I slip my eyes closed so I can't see the look of pity on her face.
"You are everything to me, Ron." She kisses my brow, my nose, the corner of mouth, all the time whispering the same thing over and over: "Everything."
"Hermione," I sigh into her mouth when her lips cover mine. Blimey, she tastes amazing. My hands move to clutch her arse, pulling her tighter against me as she straddles me. I move to kiss her neck, loving the shiver she can't hide.
"I'm sorry," I hear her breath in my ear. I pull back and meet her eyes.
"You don't have to–"
"You've changed. Ron. I don't know how to be what you need now."
"What are you on about? You are exactly what I need."
She sits back further on my knees, twining her fingers together nervously. "When we were in school, I knew you needed me, even if it was just for my notes or help with your homework… I had a role to fill, and I thrived on it." She looks at me through her lashes, blushing slightly. "Of course, eventually, there were other things I wanted you to need – want – from me too."
"I did… I do…" I untangle her hands and take them in my own, squeezing them tightly.
"But now… you don't need me anymore."
"That's a load of dung!" I shout, startling her.
"It…it's true. You're doing an amazing job – at both your positions! You work harder than you ever have. You support George, you look after Harry, and you have everything under control–"
"And it's all because of you," I explain.
"How? I wasn't even here!" She wipes at the tears starting to fall down her beautiful face.
"All that I've done this past year – hell, all that I've done since the Deluminator brought me back to you – has been because of you. I want to be worthy of you, Hermione."
"You are! You always have been!"
"But I needed to believe it. Every day I work hard to be a man you can be proud of. You give me focus and guidance, something to strive towards. Saying I don't need you is like … is like saying I don't need air – or chocolate!"
She laughs softly at my pathetic attempt at humour. Taking her face in my hands, I press my forehead to hers. "I love you, Hermione."
"I love you too."
I pull her full lower lip between mine, sucking gently, capturing her moan of pleasure in my mouth. I rub my tongue lightly over the inside of her lip before slipping it inside her mouth. I try to be tender, slow – but, as usual, our passion quickly escalates.
My hands find their way back to her arse (this time, under her skirt), holding on tightly as she grinds herself against my growing erection.
"Bloody hell, Hermione," I groan into her neck. "It's been so long… want you so bad…"
"We just shagged on Tuesday," she replies breathlessly as I help myself to a handful of her perfect tits.
"Exactly… a fucking eternity, without fucking."
She just moans and starts rocking faster on my cock. I feel I'm about to shoot my load off in my jeans, when a sudden noise freezes us.
I look over the back of the sofa to see a pyjama clad Harry stumbling past, on his way to the kitchen. "Don't mind me. Not wearing my glasses – can't see a thing." I can feel the heat of Hermione's blush as she buries her face in my neck.
"Maybe we should move this to my room?" I whisper.
"I…I think I should just head home."
"What? No!" I keep a firm grip on her waist, keeping her in place.
"Shh," she hisses.
"No," I repeat in a whisper. "You can't leave now." I thrust my hips up to remind her what we were doing.
"It's late, my parents will be expecting me home."
"Come on, love. Won't take long, promise."
"Honestly Ron, promising a short shag is not a strong selling point."
"I'll make it worth your while," I murmur into the space between her breasts, as I hold her close to me.
She moves her head to the side so I can move my lips over her throat. "You always do. How about I make it worth your while – tomorrow?"
"Herm-ione," I whinge. She wriggles out of my grasp and sets about righting her clothes. "I'm leaving on Saturday – for two bloody weeks."
"I'll be here when you get back from the shop, I promise."
"And you'll stay the night?" I attempt to negotiate, standing to pull her into my arms.
"We'll see… "
"Last summer you'd Apparate over to my room at the Burrow and spend the night," I remind, rubbing my hands slowly over her back.
"That was before my parents, well my father really, strictly forbade it."
"I'm forbidden, am I?"
"No, not you, just staying out all night. Besides, we'll have all day Sunday…"
"You'll help me pack?" I ask hopefully.
"Of course." Her arms wrap tightly around my middle and she buries her face in my chest.
"Needing some air there, Hermione," I joke.
"Sorry," she says, easing her grip but not letting go. "I'll miss you so much."
"I'll miss you too."
"Guess I better go," she says, stepping back reluctantly.
"If you must." I offer her my most pathetic pout.
"Till tomorrow." She takes out her wand. "I love you, so much," she says as she Disapparates.
I sink back into the sofa just as Harry passes back through the room.
"Done already? There are spells for that you know." He shuts his bedroom door seconds before a sofa cushion collides with it.
Here's another installment... I hope you enjoy and I would REALLY like to hear what you think! Please review! ~Mugglemama