Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters.
A/N: Thank you all so much for the overwhelming response to the first chapter! I appreciate you all joining me on this ride. Cheers :)
Please remember to be kind and constructive in the comments.
Thanks as always to the lovely accio-broom for beta-ing and putting up with all the angst!
Ten Years
Chapter Two
Another night, I can't sleep
Wishing I could, skip to my dreams
The same day, stuck on repeat
I push away from the edge
Push away from my friends
I should reach out instead
But I can't right now
No, I can't right now
I've been lost in my head
Over something that I said
All these feelings got me down
In the deep end
Trying not to pretend
Am I losing it again?
When nothing's even wrong
There's no reason
To take it this far, till I'm falling apart
Maybe I'll feel better in the morning
Am I making this up?
Did I fall or did I jump?
Could you pull me out of the deep end?
Deep End - William Black
May 2000
Hermione
One year. It had been almost one year since Hermione Granger had laid eyes on Ron Weasley.
Although they had exchanged several letters back and forth throughout the months, as Hermione had promised, any planned visit was cruelly thwarted.
Hermione had wanted to visit the Burrow around the Christmas holidays, but her parents urged her to come to Australia instead. Then, there was the time that Harry and Ginny came to visit her in New York in the spring, and Ron was all set to go with…until he was pulled away at the last minute on a pivotal mission, disappearing off the grid for several weeks. It was the most torturous time; not knowing where he was and being unable to contact him.
Hermione adjusted quite well to her life in America. She occupied an extremely tiny flat in a well-populated muggle area of the city. She wanted to integrate herself into the muggle culture as much as possible, rather enjoying the chance to put her studies and history to good use.
The food was rather delicious, she had discovered, particularly the New York-style cheesecake. However, it still didn't quite taste like home. She missed home. And when it came to food, it certainly made her think of Ron and how much she missed him.
She often laid awake at night, images of the pain in Ron's eyes rummaging through her mind. If only she had known…she mentally kicked herself. It was undeniable how hurt he was over her leaving, and she wished she had followed her gut and spoken to him first before making her decision to take the job in America.
For reasons she couldn't justify now, she had made an utterly ridiculous decision to run. She had convinced herself that staying wouldn't have led to anything that she craved. A part of her still hoped that things could be different — that she would wake up one day and find Ron on her doorstep. But again, she had a habit of wishful thinking. She felt like she was constantly wishing for something, or someone, that was out of her reach.
She was at a point in her life where she craved experiences. She had a chance now to live, and an opportunity to redefine herself. Falling back into an old pattern, out of pure familiarity, felt wrong. Hermione needed to flee the suffocation she felt from the stifled emotions she kept hidden inside.
All of which she had no idea would resurface, like icy water against her skin, once returning home in May of 2000. Back to the Burrow.
Her feet had barely planted on the hard, firm surface of the Burrow grounds.
"Hermione Granger….as I live and breathe."
Hermione paused at the familiar, smooth voice and slowly turned around. Ron was standing before her, grinning madly.
She launched herself at him, full speed, and let her arms swiftly wrap around his neck as she buried her face into his shoulder. He grunted slightly upon impact but wasted no time returning her affectionate embrace, holding her tight.
"Ron."
"Hi there," he murmured softly into her ear. Hi there. Oh, how she had ached to hear his voice, to feel his touch and the warmth of his body. They swayed together on their feet. He was finally here, and he was in her arms. She wasn't sure how it was physically possible for her arms to tighten around him even more. "Hermione," Ron chuckled, "This is some greeting."
Feeling suddenly bashful over her outward display of affection, Hermione pulled out of his arms and awkwardly glanced down to her feet. "Oh, I'm sorry. I've just - I…"
There really weren't enough words to explain or justify her feelings in that particular moment.
But thankfully, Ron still knew her like the back of his hand. "I know," he smiled adorably, "Me too."
The moment faded quickly as George walked up to the pair. "So sorry to break up this little reunion — quite lovely, I may add," George quipped, "but I've been told to gather up this gent here and have him get ready for a wild night on the town." George clapped Ron heartily on the shoulder, who winced.
Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Harry's stag night already?"
"Oy, it is the weekend before the wedding, Granger, and it is tradition. You think our fiery little redhead of a sister would allow us to get Harry piss drunk anytime closer to the wedding? No, no, there is far too much to do," George mocked. Hermione was pleased to see the twinkle in his eye back again.
"I'm sorry," Ron grimaced over at Hermione, "I promise we'll catch up soon. Tomorrow, yeah?"
"Yeah, tomorrow," Hermione agreed. "I'll head off to find Ginny and your mum."
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, sensing Ron's eyes lingering on her backside as she strolled away.
Hermione had barely entered through the front door to the Burrow before being engulfed into a tight hug. "Hermione! You're finally here."
It was Mrs. Weasley, who patted her cheeks affectionately. She was home. "You look a bit peaky, my dear. Are you sure you're fed enough across the pond?"
Hermione only managed a weak laugh when a squeal rang out from the top of the stairs. "There she is, about bloody time, too!" Ginny smirked at her before bounding down the crooked steps.
"Ginevra!" Molly scolded.
Ginny only shrugged, and held her arms out open in a hug. Once they were close, Ginny whispered in Hermione's ear, low enough so that her mum couldn't hear, "Don't think I didn't notice that reunion outside just now."
Hermione pulled back swiftly and sent her teasing friend a glare. Ignoring her comment, she looped her arm through Ginny's. "Come on, let's talk wedding plans, shall we?
Ron
Ron found it quite hard to focus on Harry at the pub, his mind instead whirling from the feel of Hermione's arms wrapped around him so tight…
"Oi! Where is your head tonight, little brother?" George's lips curled up into a knowing grin.
"Shut it, George," Ron mumbled, taking a large swig from his ale.
"You and Granger...now that was something sweet."
Ron shot him a murderous glance.
Harry slung his arms sloppily around Ron's shoulders, deliriously drunk. "I am so so happy, Ron. My two best mates. May you finally figure your shit out," Harry clinked his shot glass with Ron's, not bothering to wait for him before gulping it down in one breath.
"I don't know, mate," Ron sighed. He toyed with the full glass that remained in his hands.
"What do you mean? I would think it's pretty clear by now the way she feels about you."
"I was pretty certain she did have feelings for me, once, at Hogwarts. But so much has happened since then. I mean, we've been apart for most of the last two years. How do I know that her feelings haven't changed?"
"Because of the way she ran into your arms earlier today." George was now standing beside them and was giving his brother a knowing look.
"And maybe she's just waiting on you to grow a pair and make a move already!" Harry shouted. Ron rolled his eyes inwardly at how sloshed his best friend already was.
Was that it? Was Hermione waiting for him? His stomach clenched at the thought that she might have moved away because he failed to make a move.
This week would prove to be quite interesting.
Ron was grouchy. He had barely seen Hermione at all the next day, instead ordered around by his mum to complete a list of chores before the wedding while nursing a fairly large hangover. Honestly, did the fireplace need to be swept out two separate times?
His reprieve came that evening, when they all decided to head out to a nearby pub to celebrate that they made it through their long to-do list.
Fucking hell. Hermione just had to show up wearing that pretty little number. Her hair tumbled perfectly around her shoulders, and that dress, holy fuck, her dress was hugging her curves in all sorts of ways that made Ron's pants tighten quite uncomfortably.
Did she know that he was practically drooling over her, his eyes roaming hungrily over her body as if he could grab her at any moment and shove her against the closest wall he could find?
"Wow. Just wow." He leaned coolly up against the bar as she approached.
"Speechless, Ronald?" Hermione playfully nudged his shoulder. He watched her wobble slightly in her heels, knowing that she was already a few drinks in.
"A little tipsy are we, Miss Granger?" Ron teased right back, letting his finger trail slowly up and down her bare arm without thinking about it.
Hermione's lips parted as her eyes focused on the sultry patterns his fingers were making on her skin. He wondered if her skin was burning from the touch as his was, a spark that sent shivers down his spine. Oh yes, he was most assuredly drunk too. He just wasn't quite sure in which way.
His ears were ringing from the noise around them, and he had opened his mouth to ask if she wanted to find somewhere more private to talk when a hard body slammed into Hermione's, effectively slashing the entire front of her dress with beer.
"Oh bloody hell, Seamus!" Ron shoved his clumsy friend out of the way. "Here, I'll go get you a rag…"
When Ron returned, he was rather displeased to not find Hermione alone. Instead, she was giggling at something a random bloke was murmuring close to her ear. That sodding git.
He marched back up to her, and stood dangerously close, fixing his steely gaze on the unknown man.
"Oh, hello." The man straightened, "I was just asking the lady here if I could help her with her dress…"
Ron held up the rag in his hands. "I think I've got it from here, thanks." He grabbed Hermione's hand and led her through the crowd, away from any prying eyes.
Hermione huffed loudly, and snatched her hand away once they were at a safe distance away. "Ron, honestly, was that really necessary? He was just being friendly."
"Friendly? If by friendly you mean he was trying to get into your knickers, then sure, he was friendly, alright!"
"You know what?" Hermione seethed, "I don't need you acting like an overprotective twat tonight! I think it's time to head home."
"Go right ahead. We don't need you spoiling all our fun!"
Hermione's jaw twitched, and her lips quivered just before she ran towards the exit.
Harry exhaled loudly from behind Ron, having overheard the conversation. "Ron, mate? Go after her."
"Fuck." Ron blew out a deep breath before chasing after the girl that he couldn't seem to stop making a fool out of himself in front of.
He found her quickly, making her own attempt to pull the clasp down on the back of her tight dress. She groaned in frustration before she saw him, and he gently cleared his throat to alert her of his presence.
"Now now, Ron. I just can't tonight. I'm tired."
A pang of guilt rushed through him, seeing the defeat in her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, okay…" He was about to head out, intent on respecting her privacy when she spoke again,
"Can you...can you help me unzip my dress before you head off to bed?" The request was quiet, timid — so much so that Ron wasn't even sure if he heard her correctly.
"Uh-uhm...yeah…" He stammered out, blindly walking over until his chest was practically pressed up against her back. She draped her voluminous curls over one shoulder, allowing Ron a perfect view of the smattering of freckles on her collarbone. His hands gently brushed against her smooth, olive skin, fingers tracing the outer seams of the silky material, before latching onto the clasp. Slowly, tantalizing, he pulled down. His breath caught in his throat as he got a glimpse of her bare back.
Ron's hands were so close. He could almost slip one into the small space between her dress and her skin…
Hermione abruptly turned, one hand now curved around her back to clutch the seam closed. "Thank you," she murmured quickly before darting towards the loo.
Hermione
A soft knock on the door broke her concentration.
"Come in," she called out groggily, sitting up in her bed, making sure her duvet was wrapped tight around her torso.
Whoever she expected to see at her door first thing in the morning, it certainly wasn't Ron. Not only was she shocked at how early he seemed to be up and about, but also that he sought her out first, considering how they left things the night prior.
"Er, hey."
He stood hesitantly in the door, as if unsure whether or not he was allowed in.
"Look, I thought it might be good to clear the air. Y'know, before the ceremony today. I don't like this unresolved tension between us, and I know it bothers Harry, too."
Harry sure had been present for the brunt of many of their arguments over the years. Nodding her head, Hermione waved Ron in and watched as he closed the door timidly behind him.
"You're right. Today is Harry and Ginny's day. We need to stay focused on them."
"Yes, and we will be." Ron took two strides, and sat down on the edge of her bed. Hermione's heart rate picked up as his eyes set intensely on hers. "After we have a little chat first."
She gulped nervously, although relaxed slightly, once she noticed Ron's eyes softening.
"I'm sorry for what I said last night at the pub. I'm just trying to...look out for you, is all." He broke his gaze by staring down at his lap, likely attempting to conceal the heat on his cheeks. "I know I went about it the wrong way, though, so...sorry."
Any fight left in her dissipated, and Hermione sighed out of relief. "I'm sorry, too. I was a little harsh with you."
"What aren't you telling me?"
"It's just...honestly?"
Ron reached over and gently laid a hand atop her knee in a gesture that could've been interpreted as comforting — to Hermione, it did nothing but ignite the fiery blood that constantly pulsed through her veins whenever she was around him. "The truth, please."
Hermione inhaled a shaky breath, heart pounding in her chest. "I just - I don't know how to act around you. It seems silly…"
She made a move to stand up, but Ron's reflexes were faster. He grabbed onto her hand before she could walk away and pulled her to sit next to him on the mattress. Somehow they were now in closer proximity than before. "Try me."
"You're my best friend." She thought she saw a flash of disappointment run through his eyes, but brushed it off. "We've known each other for years. Yet, we've been apart so much over the last two of them that I've been...nervous."
"Nervous how?"
Her hand was still tucked firmly in his, successfully deterring her concentration.
"About the fact that our relationship has changed. I came back to England, not really knowing what to expect from you. Or from myself."
Ron eyebrows furrowed, clearly studying her hard. "I'm not sure I'm following. We've talked a bunch this past year, haven't we?"
"We have. It's just different."
She could hear him growing frustrated. "Different how?"
"Well, the distance, of course!" Hermione exclaimed, now pacing the room anxiously.
Ron's eyes followed her back and forth as she moved around the room but remained silent — it must have been one of those moments where he realized that it'd be best just to let her rant for a bit.
"After a few months in New York, I asked you to send mail sparingly...I knew it was really hard on the owls. But...it was also hard on me."
Ron's brows creased together, creating a mass of wrinkles on his forehead. "Hard on you?"
Hermione sighed deeply, leaning heavily against the window. "Ron, I missed you so much, so much."
She paused to gauge his reaction. Ron's face went blank — devoid of any emotion, making it impossible for her to dissect what he could be thinking.
All she could do was continue to babble in the hope that he would join in. "And then I read your letters, knowing how excited you were about Auror training and all of the silly pranks that George would pull on you at the joke shop. You constantly spoke of your family, and Harry and Ginny...it was just all too much. It made being away from you all that much harder. I had half a mind to just find the nearest portkey and come straight home."
It was like a light switched on, and Ron sprung into action. "You could've."
Hermione bit her lip. "I could've. But, I also couldn't have.
"I had a duty, Ron. I accepted this amazing job opportunity, and I couldn't afford to screw it all up. I'll admit, I let my personal life slide a bit while I was away, but I really, really want to make more of an effort this year. Now that I feel a bit more settled in my position, I want to keep in touch more. I promise."
Ron grunted and stood, his back turning away from her. After a long minute, he swiveled back around. "So, you are going back."
There was no denying the look that crossed his face this time. It wasn't one of approval. Hermione's stomach twisted into knots, much like the interwoven vine on her wand.
"I am. I think...definitely one more year. I feel really good about the cases I'm working on. I'm not ready to move on from that yet."
Time stood still as they both stared into the depths of each others' eyes. Slowly, Ron's lips raised into a small smile. He understood.
"Anyway, we've got a joint speech to write, yeah?"
Ron
If there could be one word to describe Harry Potter on his wedding day, it would be nervous as hell. The shifty speckle-eyed bloke was bouncing around from foot to foot, constantly pacing the length of the room as if he couldn't find the loo. Ron snorted to himself, thinking he had never seen Harry this on edge, even during the countless missions he joined him on.
"You seem a bit tense, mate," Ron observed out loud.
"Oh, do I?" Harry snarled back through gritted teeth. Ron only grinned cheekily and shook his head.
"Oh, relax, it's just my sister."
Harry kinked an eyebrow. "Just your sister? Don't let Gin hear you say that."
"Whatever, she'll be your problem soon enough!" Ron teased.
"Harry Potter, you better know how lucky you are!" Hermione's voice traveled down the steps, and Ron's head shot upwards, expecting to find her. He only caught a fleeting glimpse of her curled hair swishing out from behind a door frame.
Next to Ron, Harry's eyes rolled upward. "Hermione, I managed to survive the killing curse, several attempts on my life every single year at Hogwarts, and the woes of dating. I think lucky is an understatement."
"None of that mentioned your extremely stunning soon-to-be wife, who looks absolutely flawless!" Hermione scolded, her voice drifting closer as she moved towards the top of the stairs.
"Well, come on down, now!" Ron called up impatiently. He snuck a glance over at Harry, who was now smirking at Ron — huh, he only just realized that he himself was also bouncing on his toes like a blubbering idiot.
He didn't have to wait much longer, for Hermione emerged from her concealed spot, effectively making Ron seize all movement.
Holy fuck.
Her gown was made of dark royal blue silk and draped all the way to the floor, the length flowing behind her as she gracefully made her way down the steps. The upper bodice hung off one shoulder, with a particular jeweled detail at the neckline that made her eyes sparkle.
She, quite literally, took Ron's breath away. He had to blink several times before he realized that she was now standing expectantly in front of him, eyebrows raised in amusement. Ron vaguely felt Harry nudge at his shoulder.
"You're...you're positively stunning, Hermione," Ron managed to get out, his lips dry and voice hoarse from inhaling so much air through his gawking, open mouth.
She bit her lip shyly and reached over to adjust his tie. The gesture made his insides flutter with excitement.
Oh, this evening was going to be the death of him.
The ceremony passed by in a breeze. The vision of Hermione walking down the aisle towards Ron, beaming widely, would forever be ingrained in his memory. He couldn't stop himself from picturing her dress in a different color, perhaps a shade of white…
The reception was now in full swing. Champagne flutes were passed around — guests crowding around the open greenery in the garden of the Burrow.
Ron and Hermione took their stance in the middle of the enclosed circle of family and friends, each taking their respective positions next to the bride and groom.
Ron pulled a crumpled piece of parchment from the pocket of his trousers. He looked over at Hermione, and wasn't surprised in the slightest to find that she didn't even have any notes with her — she probably spent a good portion of the afternoon memorizing the bloody speech.
Hermione held up her wand, the tip of it dimly lit in the fading sunlight. "Hello, everyone. Ron and I would like to share a few words about the happy couple — please bear with us for any impending sappiness."
Several chuckles rang out, and Ron observed Hermione as her eyes adorably brightened at the pleased response to her joke. She met his eyes, and he nodded at her to continue.
"A best friend is someone who stands by your side through it all." Her eyes welled with tears as she gazed lovingly back and forth between Harry and Ginny. They beamed back at her, with Harry's arm wrapped tightly around Ginny's shoulder.
Ron spoke tenderly towards Ginny, "A sister is someone who can be annoying as hell, but never leaves your side. And, you wouldn't want her to.
"We were lucky enough to witness Hermione's brother," he paused to allow Hermione to lock eyes with Harry, "and my sister-" He found Ginny's eyes, giving her a soft grin, "find their way to each other."
Hermione raised her head to continue, "Harry and Ginny, your relationship has overcome so much in such a short amount of time. You've always cared for each other, and it is clear that the love you have for one another runs deep."
"Harry," Ron sent him a knowing look, "I knew Ginny was the right girl for you when she wasn't afraid to call you out for being a prat, or to let you know when you were taking your hero complex a bit too far."
Ron was pleased to see Hermione's slight eye roll at his line that he insisted they keep in the script. He turned to Ginny,
"Baby sis, I knew Harry was the right man for you when you both snuck away to the lake or the Quidditch pitch. Harry would come back to the dorm, and I've never seen him happier than when I knew that he was with you."
"Oi! Keep it PG here for the kids!" George barked out from the crowd. The guests exploded into a fit of laughter as Harry blushed profusely.
"Yeah, yeah, almost done here," Ron waved his brother off.
"Harry…" Ron felt a surge of love run through his chest, "you officially became a part of the Weasley family today. But in reality, you've been a part of our family for much longer." He blinked back tears. Great, Hermione managed to turn him into a lush. "May we all find the love that you two have."
When he glanced over at Hermione to indicate that it was her turn to wrap up, his breath caught in his throat when he found her gazing longingly at him. She held his gaze fiercely as she chose her next words softly, "Hold on tight to each other, and never let go."
No sooner than they had finished their speeches, did Ron and Hermione find themselves whisked onto the dance floor by Harry and Ginny. Harry led Hermione around in a fast dance to an upbeat song, while Ron took the lead with Ginny. The song ended quicker than Ron could've imagined, and suddenly, Harry was twirling Hermione straight into his arms.
"Have fun, you two," Ginny winked at them before spinning away with Harry.
Although he was positive that they were both flushed red from the insinuation, Ron couldn't help but catch the hopeful tint in Hermione's chocolate brown orbs. That was enough for him to grip her hands in his and pull her body close. A whiff of her floral perfume hit his nostrils, and he felt all the air leave his lungs, clinging desperately to her intoxicating scent.
"Shall we, Miss Granger?" His whispered words came out much huskier than he had intended, but if Hermione noticed, or cared, she didn't show it.
"I'd be honored."
They danced for what seemed like hours — giggling breathlessly during the fast ones, and enjoying the peace and quiet during the slow ones. At some point, Hermione laid her head gently on Ron's shoulder as they swayed back and forth. Ron wasn't sure what heaven was like, but he was pretty convinced that some version of it had to include Hermione forever in his arms. He never wanted her to leave. His fingers absent-mindedly began to graze up and down her back, stroking the thin material of her dress lightly, occasionally brushing against the bare skin on her upper back.
Ron had just allowed himself to get all too consumed by the feel of Hermione's body pressed up against his own when she pulled back, her hair flying wildly behind her shoulder while her eyes darted around nervously. Her face looked positively flushed. "I'm sorry...it's a bit stifling out here tonight, don't you think? I might just need to go get a drink."
Without any additional warning, she unceremoniously dropped his hands, and walked briskly through the crowd.
To his confusion, Ron's eyes followed Hermione as she bypassed the drink stand entirely and instead made her way, practically at a run, towards the back door of the house.
Ron checked around him briefly to make sure no one else had observed Hermione's abrupt departure from the dance floor, before quickly and quietly following her into the house.
When he shut the door behind him, he could hear her bounding up the steps towards the bedrooms. He ascended the stairs two at a time, surprised to figure out that Hermione's destination was not the room she shared with Ginny — but rather, his bedroom on the very top floor.
The door was left slightly ajar when he reached it. He cautiously pushed it open to find Hermione standing with her back to him, gazing out the open window in the far corner.
"Hermione, what in the-"
She whirled her head around to place a finger to her lips, shushing him, before turning her head back to listen and watch their friends and family below.
Ron hesitantly wobbled forward until his feet were planted directly behind her. He could see her visibly tense up as he drew near, so close that he could inhale her intoxicating scent of fresh strawberries and champagne. His eyes dropped to her hand that twitched down by her side, and he fought the urge to grab ahold of it.
"They're having loads of fun down there…" Hermione murmured, almost absent-mindedly.
"I thought we were too…"
Hermione snapped her head towards Ron, instant regret passing through her features. She grasped his arm without thought, setting his insides on fire from just one touch.
"Oh Ron, we were! I'm sorry...I…" She covered her face with her hands, swiftly creating more distance between them, and made a mad dash towards the door.
"Fucking hell." Ron had finally had enough. His swearing made Hermione stop in her tracks — she gawked over at him, bewildered. "Just...stop saying you're sorry….please…"
The loud cheers and laughter of the guests down below reminded them of just how open the window was, and if they could hear the raucous below, it was very likely that their current conversation wouldn't be very private as well. Ron reached into his trousers' pocket to fish out his wand and flicked it towards the window to close it. Without a second thought, he shut the front door to his bedroom with a slam, adding silencing and locking charms for added effect.
"Ron…" Hermione's eyes widened.
"Bloody hell," he moved to sit on his bed while rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I'm not going to do this with you anymore, Hermione."
"What-what do you mean?" He could hear the shaky question in her voice.
"I need you to tell me. What do you want from me? Am I daft? To think that maybe -"
"I fancy you, Ron."
Her words hit him like a Stupefy charm. Was he dreaming? If so, it'd be a cruel twist of fate if he were about to wake up.
"And not just in the, I fancy you as my best mate sort of way, but I really fucking fancy you so much that I feel like I might combust if I hold it in any longer."
Ron wasn't sure what shocked him more. That Hermione Granger was standing before him, saying everything he had ever wanted to hear, or the fact that she had just cursed.
There was nothing else for him to say.
He set off into a determined stride, barely registering Hermione's tiny squeak, as he cupped her cheeks into his hands, and planted his lips firmly on hers.
Fucking buggering hell. He was kissing Hermione Granger.
Her lips were as soft as velvet — so delicate, as he roamed his mouth against hers, groaning softly as he tasted the sweetness of her lips. It was everything. She was everything. Despite the feel of her lips on his being a completely unfamiliar sensation, there was no denying that he was kissing Hermione. Everything about her tasted and felt so familiar; it was a wonder that they hadn't done it sooner.
They both simultaneously pulled back, gasping for air. Hermione's lips were red and swollen, her eyes glazed over in awe.
Her body was trembling. "Why-why did you do that?"
He wasn't scared anymore. He didn't care, even if she were to say that she only felt a fraction of what he felt for her. All he wanted was the chance to kiss her again — a chance to fall off the edge with her, to dive deep into something real.
"I dare you to tell me to stop…"
With a loud cry, she gripped his shirt in between her two fists and pulled. Hard. Their mouths crashed together in a frenzy. Ron's hands instinctively dug into the sides of her hips, pushing their chests flush against each other.
Their feet blindly moved as they tumbled backwards towards the bed. Ron's body fell on top of her as he pressed her deep into the mattress, his elbows resting on either side of her head.
Hermione parted her knees so that Ron could crawl forward into the gap between her legs. Her flowy dress was now hitched high above her hips, and Ron had to fight all urge to rip her knickers out from underneath. He wanted to take the time to explore her body — to relish the feel of her skin against his skin.
Ron left hot, open-mouthed kisses along her jawline, extending down to her neck. Hermione moaned and bucked her hips upward, creating friction through his trousers with his strained erection that firmly poked through. Her movements were becoming erratic, almost animalistic-like now, as her hands clawed his shirt out from its tucked position in his trousers. Hermione's dainty fingertips took their time undoing the tiny buttons that lined the front of his button-down.
Impatiently, Ron ripped the remainder of the shirt from his skin, sending a few of the buttons flying, and eliciting a gasp from Hermione.
This was the best fucking day of his life.
Ron ducked his head to kiss her deeply again, taking the opportunity to nibble softly on her bottom lip. She panted into his mouth, returning his kiss with just as much fervor. He was entirely too overwhelmed to take it slow anymore, his hands now itching to slide underneath her dress and never return.
He lifted his head just mere centimeters, his questioning eyes lingering across her features. "Are you - are you sure this is what you want?" He had to ask. There couldn't be any shred of doubt — the last thing he wanted was for her to regret a single thing that happened that night.
Hermione's hand gently reached up, and she grazed her knuckles against his pale, freckled cheek. "I want this, Ron. And I don't want to talk about it any more."
Part of him felt like they should talk about it; that they shouldn't just sweep this under the rug. But then, Hermione's lips were on his again, and he lost all motivation.
Against his lips, she murmured, "Should I be concerned about anything...you know...with your previous…"
Her words caught him off guard, and he lifted his head to look incredulously at her. "What do you mean - oh." His face burned as he thought briefly back to his one, miserably failed attempt at a relationship with Lavender Brown. "I've uh...I've definitely never done this before, so you haven't anything to...uh…"
Despite feeling awkward, all tension in his muscles relaxed when he saw the beaming smile curve onto Hermione's lips.
"Should I?" He returned her inquiry, silently begging that her experience level matched his.
Hermione shook her head profusely and bit her lip. "No, never."
Slowly, Ron slipped his hand underneath the hem of her dress, hearing her sharp intake of breath as he outlined her bare thigh with the base of his hand, until it rested firmly on her bum. Hermione mimicked his motions, her own hands reaching behind him to tug on his belt loops.
The next several moments passed by in a frenzy — Ron, only slightly tipsy from the champagne, felt drunk from kissing her. Their limbs became a tangled heap as they ripped the remainder of their clothing from each other, surpassing all hesitancy around the intimacy they were about to share.
Ron's lips parted, and his eyes darkened as they traveled the length of her naked body, from the curve of her breasts, to the curls in between her thighs. She was showing him all of her — Hermione was showing him a part of her that she hadn't unveiled to anyone else.
One of his fingers slid into her wet folds — bloody fuck — and he listened to her cry out from intense pleasure as he started to move his hand to find her most sensitive bundle of nerves. His mouth found hers again, her lips now scorching his skin.
She mumbled against his lips, "Do you know the charm?"
The implication of her statement made Ron's insides light on fire. He sat back on his heels, taking a second to view her silhouette. Her curls were now splayed out across the pillow, and her olive skin glistened with sweat droplets. Without wasting another minute, he reached over for his wand on his nightstand and murmured the contraceptive charm while pointing his wand at her stomach, watching in satisfaction as the tip of his wand glowed.
His heart was glowing, that's for sure.
Ron fumbled on his knees a bit, struggling to get into a position that he hoped would be comfortable enough for Hermione. He gripped his hard length in his hand, bringing it to poise at her entrance. He was about to ask Hermione one last time if she was absolutely sure...
"FUCK," he yelled out, watching as the tip of his length was pushed into her opening. Hermione was apparently as impatient as he was. Ron froze, viewing the flash of pain in her eyes as she squinted them closed.
"Hermione…"
She placed a steady hand on his arm, breathing deeply. "You won't hurt me...please. Give me all of you."
Ron let out a strangled noise from the back of his throat. "Bloody hell, Hermione. You've got me. You always have."
He slowly entered the rest of the way, feeling her muscles tense up around him until he was buried to the hilt. The sensation was nothing short of incredible. Hermione's legs instinctively wrapped around him, and she dug her heels into his back to bury him even further into her. Ron grunted loudly from the pressure, unable to hold back from thrusting in and out of her wet heat quickly.
They filled the air with their breathy moans, and the faint smell of sweat as their bodies moved chaotically together on the mattress. Neither truly knew what they were doing, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that they were together, and releasing the passion that they had both kept contained for so long.
All too soon, the friction became unbearable for Ron, and he was spilling into her with a final growl. He was spent, but still wanted to leave Hermione satisfied. If there was one thing that his older brothers taught him…
He reached between their joined bodies and rubbed in and around her clit, while simultaneously bending over to capture her breast in his mouth, sucking lightly on her hardened nipple.
"Ron." She pulled at his hair as her hips thrust up into his hand wildly, reaching her completion with a final whimper.
Ron collapsed beside her on the bed, both panting heavily, with legs tangled within the messy sheets.
"Well, that was...something."
Hermione pinched him lightly on the elbow. "Charming, as always, Ron."
"You know what I mean!" He grinned back, turning on his side. He was just about to wrap his arms around her to snuggle her close when...
Knock knock knock. "Ron? Hermione? Er - are you there?" It was Harry's voice that echoed from the other side of the door.
"Shit!"
Hermione sat up as once, fumbling around for her knickers and her dress. "What are we going to do? What if he-"
"Relax, there is still a silencing charm on the door; he wouldn't have heard anything." Ron swiftly pulled his trousers up over his legs, almost stumbling from the effort. He raced over to his wardrobe to find a new shirt, hoping that Harry would be none the wiser. After doing a final check over his appearance and letting Hermione tame her wild curls, he unlocked and opened the door.
Harry's eyebrows shot up instantly. Ron's flaming hair was tousled up, and Hermione's dress was now incredibly wrinkled, obvious signs of what they were up to.
"I should - go see if there is any work to be done to clean up...excuse me…" Hermione raced past Harry quickly.
Ron laughed awkwardly, the tips of his ears burning.
Harry shook his head disapprovingly, but the amusement was evident in his eyes. "Really? At my wedding?"
Ah well. There wasn't really any point in denying the obvious. He only hoped Hermione would forgive him if she ever caught wind of the words that tumbled from his mouth next.
"Just be grateful it wasn't during the ceremony," Ron threw back quickly with a wink before clapping Harry in the back and strolling off.
He was on a high that he never wanted to come down from.
Ron was anxious to find Hermione again after she had disappeared. They were interrupted far sooner than he had anticipated or wanted, and there was a lot that they needed to discuss. For starters, about how he needed to convince her to stay in his arms and never leave again. Sod her job.
When he didn't have such luck finding her out in the garden, he made his way towards a familiar set of trees off the path, hoping that his instincts were right.
They were.
This time, she wasn't in the tree but rather perched up against it, legs stretched out in front of her. She met his gaze with a bashful smile as he approached.
"Reckon I'd find you out here."
Her smile faltered quickly, and Ron's heart rate picked up. A look of concern etched across his face as he sat down on the mossy grass in front of her. He waited and waited, praying that it wasn't regret she was feeling.
"I have to go back to America." Her voice was quiet and neutral.
His heart sunk. "No, you don't have to." He had a whole speech in his head about how they would work it all out, that Kingsley would be thrilled to have her at the ministry, how they could finally have a chance to make things work...
"Do you love me, Ron?"
All of the words on the tip of his tongue dissolved. Love. "I-I…"
"It's a simple answer." Ron's blood started boiling at the force of her words, and he couldn't hold back the emotions that followed.
"No, it's not. Not when it's so incredibly difficult to understand what the hell is going on in your bloody head. You're hot and cold, Hermione! One minute you want me, and the next minute you are desperate to put as much distance between us as possible, fucking oceans, if you will!"
"Well, I love you." The intensity of her words almost knocked Ron straight over. "And more than just a way a friend loves another friend. I am in love with you."
"Hermione…" His voice sounded tortured.
"Are you in love with me too, Ron?" Thump thump. Thump thump.
"I, maybe, I…." No. This was coming out all wrong.
He didn't get the chance to rectify it, for Hermione was already fumbling to stand up, with tears flooding her eyes.
"I'm not going to uproot my life again for a maybe." With that, she disapparated on the spot, leaving Ron dumbfounded, and alone, next to a willow tree.
The next morning, his insides went numb as he heard the dreaded words from Harry's mouth, "I'm sorry mate, she's gone back already."