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The Last Innocent Weasley

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By Karma205, what is hoped to be his true masterpiece.

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Summer at the Burrow, and here was Ron Weasley thinking it'd be another summer of Quidditch, Wizards Chess, and his mum's cooking. Instead, an overheard conversation and the truth it reveals threatens to ruin not only his summer, but himself too, as he struggles to come to grips with the opposite sex...

This fic contains scenes of a sexual nature, probably some bad language too, and is therefore rated M. May contain spoilers from the books. I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter, and this is a non-profit making fic. Finally, whatever you think about this fic, please review, I do accept anonymous reviews, and reading what people think is the reason I continue to write...

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Foreword:
Again, I must apologise for the long waits that you very patient (and devoted, I must add) readers are having to endure as this story chugs along. There are no excuses on my part, though I have been drinking too much in recent weeks, and seem to be entering a state of depression... Well, enough of that, and on to the story!

The Story So Far:
A kiss at last with the girl he'd been dreaming of, but though things didn't seem well in the immediate aftermath, Hermione is smiling again, and Ron isn't dead (or at least until his mum gets hold of him!).

Part Six:
A Nice Change

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"Darrgh!"

Wow that hurt! Ron winced again as the tip of his mum's wand touched the side of his head.

"Oh be quiet Ronald!" came the stern reply, and although the next spell was just as painful, he managed to keep himself steady. Making matters worse, he had a headache too. Over the years he'd become more accustomed to pain during termtime at Hogwarts, what with every year being another chapter in the battle against You-Know-Who, but not out of it. Surely the holidays should be a relaxing time for all!

He winced again as the wand came into contact for the umpteenth time, kicking himself for having no self control when, as soon as he did it, his mother began issuing a torrent of moans directed at him. 'Forgetting to do chores', 'running away', 'chores', and so on.

"I think I'll leave you to it, Mrs Weasley," Hermione said from across the table, pushing her chair away and standing, before giving him a sort of cheery-disapproving look, and exiting the room. He heard her footsteps practically bounding up the stairs, or at least he hoped she was bounding up them happily! As soon as the was gone though, his mum continued her one-sided argument with him, which she seemed to want to continue for ever. Ron found himself doing what he did normally when she was in one of these moods, and just agreed with her every word.

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When he eventually escaped, still with an aching head but with the wound perfectly healed, his mum was starting to make lunch. He didn't feel hungry at all, and decided half way to his room that he actually couldn't be bothered eating, for the first time in recent memory! He smiled at that thought, but that was quickly cut short by another burst of pain through his head. Gargh, he muttered, making for his room so he could lie down. Maybe this was how Harry felt when You-Know-Who... read his mind?

Another pulse rattled his thoughts, making any further thinking impossible, and as soon as he reached his room he pushed open the door and collapsed on the bed...

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Footsteps. Laughter.

The room blurred into view, his eyes focusing slowly as he regained his bearings. He sat up in bed, rubbing his head slowly. The pain had all but disappeared! Sure his mum could be annoying at times, but he had to admit she was bloody good at healing spells.

Laughter again, this time in the hallway outside, he recognised it now as Fleur's, and he looked at the doorway he saw her pass, in Bill's arms, giggling as only she could. Ron found thoughts racing through his mind again, thoughts he knew that he shouldn't be thinking, for two reasons now. Not just his obsession with the half-Veela Fleur, but for his new found love with Hermione. But no matter what he tried to think of, he found his heartbeat quickening, and blood rushing to his waist.

He groaned, he knew that he was never going to resist the urge now. What time was it, anyway? A quick glance at the window told him all he needed to know - he'd been asleep for quite a while. The curtains weren't drawn, but nothing could be seen through them. It was dark outside, it was night-time! He groaned again, knowing that he'd never be able to get back to sleep now, and knowing what he was going to do despite not really wanting to.

He got out of bed and moved over towards the still open door, pushing it shut as he reached it before turning back to his bed again. But he stopped before he got there, upon realising the door hadn't clicked shut on the lock. He spun around, expecting his mum to be there, hands on hips, scowling at him for some incomprehensible reason.

"Wha-?" he scowled on the half turn, but the golden brown curls of her hair cut his question short. It was Hermione, caught mid-pose, one step inside the room, one hand still on the door handle. But it wasn't merely her being there that suddenly forced Ron speechless, it was what she was wearing. Her hair fell upon her bare shoulders, save for the two thin straps of her nightgown. But this wasn't the plain white one he'd seen her at breakfast in numerous times, he'd never seen her wear this one before. Its thin black silk was draped loosely over her body, from just below her arms to just above her knees, following the curves of her body perfectly. It was so unlike her, yet it suited her down to the ground!

"Hi," she whispered, still in the doorway. Ron realised he'd been staring at her without speaking for longer than he intended.

"Er, hi," he stuttered, his throat completely dry. None of them moved, an awkward feeling descended on the room.

"Can I come in?" she asked quietly, a smile appearing on her face that Ron couldn't resist, "Uh, yeah, sure," he stammered again, still trying to remember how to speak properly. Why was it so awkward between them, it hadn't been like this before, it shouldn't be now.

But as soon as Hermione had closed the door behind her, the awkwardness vanished as quickly as it had appeared. She grinned at him, that brilliant smile that had first gotten him, "I haven't seen you all day," she started.

Ron grinned back, his ability to speak returning quickly, "it's been an unusual holiday so far..."

Silence descended again, both of them unsure what to say, but this time it was actions rather than words that broke the sudden tension, Hermione moving towards Ron, kissing him on the lips before wrapping her arms around him. He found himself doing likewise. Was this really happening to him?

"It's been a great few days," she whispered into his ear, as they stood in the semi-darkness embracing each other. Ron couldn't think of anything to say in reply, but Hermione didn't notice, "Harry's coming tomorrow," she said quietly.

Again, Ron was at a loss for what to say. "He'll be staying in this room, won't he?" Hermione continued softly. Ron felt his heart race, finally seeing where she was going, but not believing it all the same.

"Ron... I've been thinking..."

He let her continue at her own pace, still trying to comprehend the situation himself. Was this going where he thought it was?

"About things... What Ginny and Fleur and Bill and everyone else seems to be doing..." She looked into his eyes, her eyes serious. Merlin, she wasn't joking, Ron's heart missed a beat.

"Ron?"

He couldn't believe it, "you want to...?" his voice trailed off. She nodded silently, a trace of a smile appearing on her lips, those beautiful lips, that brilliant smile, her slender body covered only by that thin nightgown. He looked back at her and grinned, Hermione grinning back, and they kissed again... Why doesn't every story have to have a happy ending?

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The End

I think that'll be a good place to sign off. Cheers for all the readers of this fic, you've kept me going, and without the positive reviews (of which there've been many), this story never would have been completed. Thanks again, and I wish you all the best. This may well be the last fic I ever write too, but I'll stay around, and maybe one day I'll put fingers to keyboard again and write something that can be as good as this one!