Here we are, final chapter. It's quite long, so carve out some smutty reading time for yourself before you get started. ;-)

Big shout-out to Accio-Broom for beta'ing this final chapter. It is a much stronger chapter thanks to her input.

Thank you so much to everyone that reviewed, favorited and followed. I read every review and it always gets me excited to write more. Even reviews that come a month or year later, I see and appreciate every single one.

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 3:

After each Friday night party, Hermione spends the night at Grimmauld Place. It wasn't usually because of her ability to apparate while intoxicated, it was more so because she felt safe with Ron and Harry close by. She always kept an extra pair of pajamas and toiletries in the guest bedroom. Tonight, she wondered if she should apparate back to her flat, knowing that her decision-making skills weren't the best and that she'd made a mess of things with Ron. Despite her better judgement, she remained.

It was nearly two in the morning, and Hermione paced back and forth in front of the mahogany four-poster bed. Her self-consciousness and embarrassment from this evening had slowly morphed into anger and frustration with every minute that passed. All she had wanted to do was throw Ron off his game. She wanted him to notice her again, and she wanted something to change in their relationship. And to her dismay, something definitely had.

She hadn't really wanted to get naked in front of a room of strangers. All she wanted was to get naked in front of Ron...or him in front of her ideally. She felt her mind slide sideways as she thought about him in his boxers again.

Her heart panged, thinking back to the horror-stricken faces that Ron made during her game. He was truly bothered, and the seed of guilt in her belly grew. Was this really just all one-sided? Did she just ruin a wonderful friendship with her best friend because she couldn't keep it in her pants?

Even while intoxicated, Hermione was not one to let things fester. She needed to try to fix this before morning.

Grimmauld Place was always chilly at night, and after people left the party, it became even more so. Hermione donned her deep purple 'H' sweater Mrs. Weasley had knitted for her last Christmas and her slippers, then made her way downstairs, wand in hand, to the Library.

The entire house was silent. Hermione tiptoed down the stairs, avoiding the cups and bottles that littered the floors. A few loud grunts and snores caught her attention, but she continued sidestepping those sleeping off their drunken state on random couches.

"Accio chess set," Hermione whispered, pointing her wand at the floor. Instantly, various chess pieces zipped into the slim drawers underneath the chessboard. She collected Ron's clothes from the floor, urging herself not to be a creep and breathe in his scent. She stacked them on the chessboard, picked the lot up, and unceremoniously carried everything under her arms up the stairs.

She stood in front of Ron's door, took a deep breath and knocked.

Silence. He was probably asleep.

She knocked again, giving it one last shot before she gave up for the night.

"Go away, Harry."

"It's not." Hermione started. "Harry, I mean. It's me."

There was a long silence.

"I'm tired, Hermione."

"Okay," Hermione answered, trying not to let her disappointment come across in her voice. "I'll, umm, just leave your chessboard and clothes by the door, then."

There was a creaking noise from the old bed in his room. Hermione started to put down the items but was interrupted by Ron's door opening a crack.

"Thanks." He said, reaching for his stuff.

She handed it to him. He didn't make eye contact.

"Ron, I, uhh..just wanted to apologize." She started. "While I had every right to challenge you and your obnoxious winning streak," she began in her uppity-Hermione-ish voice, "I shouldn't have put you in that position. I shouldn't have threatened our friendship like that." She finished apologetically.

"Friends don't do that, Hermione." He said in a low voice.

"Oh." Hermione whispered, trying not to take what he was saying too personally. "Well, I'm sorry. It won't happen again, promise." Hermione finished, hoping they could go back. Praying that she could just rewind the tape to sometime earlier this evening.

"I can't be friends with you, Hermione." It almost seemed more of a statement to himself than to her. As if he was just now recognizing his true feelings. That there was no other alternative.

"Ron, don't do this. You'll feel differently in the morning." Hermione interrupted, trying desperately not to let tears spill over. Had she really hurt him that much from a simple chess game?

"No, Hermione. I won't." He said matter-of-factly. She stared at the chessboard and clothes now sitting under his arm, not looking at him.

"I see." Hermione's voice wavered. "Then, I suppose I should go." She turned quickly to storm back to her room, wanting nothing more than to sob into her pillow until this entire night disappeared.

Before she got the chance, Ron grabbed her by the arm.

"What do you want, Ron?" Hermione scowled back at him. "I'm tired too, you know."

He didn't respond, just pulled her into his room and shut the door.

She stood there, arms crossed, looking at a shadow flickering on the carpet trying desperately not to show Ron how upset she was over his last statement. Their friendship, and Hermione, was about to dissolve into a puddle on the floor with nothing to stop them.

The room was dark, but the moonlight came through clearly, so it lit the room in a luminescent glow.

Ron threw his clothes on a pile in the corner of the room, then walked over to his bed, setting the chessboard down in front of him.

"I owe you a rematch for throwing our game," Ron called over.

"I'm not in the mood," Hermione said, unmoving.

"Please, Hermione. Don't make me drag you over here," he said, sitting on his bed with one leg tucked under, the other hanging off the side. He started setting his pieces upon the board.

Hermione waited a moment, then trudged over to his bed. How could he tell her their friendship was over and then proceed to play chess with her? Wasn't this the end? Shouldn't they be going their separate ways at this point?

The bed creaked as Hermione climbed onto it and sat with her legs crossed in front of the chessboard. She pulled out the slim drawer of white pieces and began setting them up.

Hermione looked at the board, unable and almost unwilling to play. Why was she even here?

She nudged a pawn forward and picked at her fingernail, trying hard to not let the hurt and anger grow to something that would eventually turn into a row.

"You know, I read this book back on our Horcrux Hunt." Ron started as he pushed his piece forward.

Hermione glanced up at him, surprised that he was talking about books of all things.

"Okay."

"Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches."

Hermione shifted on the bed. What on Earth was she supposed to say to that?

"That's nice for you, Ron. I'm sure you'll charm loads of witches." Hermione felt him watching her as she studied the board. She straightened up slightly, shifting one of her pieces forward.

She waited, but he hadn't made his move. "Ron, it's your turn."

She stopped short. His eyes were dark, and it felt as if he was trying to communicate with her on a molecular level. She held his gaze, but it suddenly felt much warmer in the room. The silence hung in the air, and the longer it lasted the more nervous it made Hermione.

"I didn't read it to charm loads of witches." He answered calmly. His eyes didn't shift away, but his voice hitched ever so slightly at the end. He didn't even look down as he moved his piece into position. "I read it to charm you."

"Ron, are you sure that's the move you want to make?" Hermione interrupted, looking at the obvious misstep on the board. He positioned his bishop in the perfect spot to be picked off. She didn't wait, and knocked it over with her knight in satisfaction.

That's when it registered with Hermione what he had said. "Wait, what did you-"

She looked back up at Ron. She felt the heat and redness rise up the back of her neck. All this time, she was dying to hear him say something like this to her, but now that he had, she didn't quite know what to do.

Hermione watched Ron grab his bishop and return it to the drawer. Then, he reached for his sweatshirt and started pulling it up over his head. She could see his navel and abs as his shirt was pulled with it.

"What are you doing?" She croaked.

"You got one of mine." He said while pulling the sleeves, then readjusted his shirt back down again. He crumpled the sweatshirt and threw it off the other side of the bed.

"We're not...are we…?" Hermione sputtered.

"I said rematch, didn't I?" He said, stroking his chin. "Unless you're scared."

Hermione didn't move, didn't breathe.

"I'm not scared." Hermione whispered, looking back down at the board. If anyone else in the room had been watching, they would assume Hermione was strategizing, and she was in a sense, but it had nothing to do with the chess game. While she sat there, looking at the board, Ron spoke again, with a little more confidence this time.

"The book said there's a window of time...after a shift in a relationship." Ron started. Hermione continued to look at the board but was listening intently. "A window of time where friends could be something...more than that."

"Hmm." Hermione acknowledged, pretending to study the board.

"I figured my window closed, especially after we went off after the summer. I've never been good at making the first move...or the second." He chuckled, running his fingers through his hair.

Hermione ignored his comment and pushed her knight into position.

"Well, I've never heard of this so-called 'window'," Hermione said, holding up mock quotation marks. "But if there is one, mine's always been open." She offered, trying to keep her nerves from taking over. While they were communicating in metaphors at this point, this was one of the most honest conversations about their relationship they'd ever had.

Ron tried to hold back a grin as he looked down at the board.

"Geez, Hermione. Are you trying to lose?" He said, looking at where she'd placed her knight.

"Are you?" She asked mischievously and pulled her legs from under her, shifting, so they were pointed in the direction of Ron.

Ron stared at Hermione's feet, and she gave him a look, indicating that she didn't have all day.

Slowly, with his shoulders broadening, he reached for her slippers and pulled them off. She pulled her legs back under her as Ron threw the slippers onto the floor.

"Your go, Mione." He said shyly.

They continued like that for a few minutes, flirting by way of chess strategy. It was as if Hermione's newfound knowledge allowed them to communicate through moves alone.

Then, Ron knocked over one of her rooks.

Hermione reached for her 'H' sweater, but Ron grabbed her arm.

"May I?" He asked cautiously. Hermione dropped her arms and nodded mutely.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her off the bed, so they were standing on the floor facing one another.

"You know. I think about the Room of Requirement every single day." Ron whispered in her ear as he walked around behind her, reaching for the hem of her sweater.

Hermione's body buzzed in anticipation, turning her head to follow him. It was dark, and his breath on her neck was hot and tantalizing. The flirting they had done at work was nothing compared to the sultry way Ron was luring her in.

She felt his fingers against her waist as he pulled the thick knit hem of her sweater up over her head. She wasn't sure whether it was on purpose or just by happenstance, but his large hands rolled all the way up her sides, catching her on fire.

She hadn't anticipated such a close encounter with Ron this evening, so all she had on underneath her sweater was a simple tank top. She wasn't sure whether she was relieved or disappointed that she'd decided to leave her bra on.

Ron returned to his spot in front of her, dropping the sweater onto the ground, eyes roving up and down her petite frame, hesitantly at first. She didn't mind it. His hungry features surveyed her every curve, and she could feel herself blooming, her body reacting in a completely natural way.

"I think about it too. Every. Single. Day." Hermione returned.

Ron cleared his throat and quickly sat back down on the bed. Hermione watched him as he looked at the board again, determining his next move.

Hermione leaned on the edge of the quilted mattress, watching him study the board almost as dutifully as he was just studying her body.

He slid his rook into position and stood back up. Hermione craned over the board and smiled inwardly.

"It seems as if we both want to lose the game." Hermione glanced slyly up at Ron as she knocked off his rook.

Ron didn't move. Hermione got up.

Electricity sparked between them as Hermione stepped closer. She held her breath as she reached for his Chudley Cannons tee.

Wrapping her fingers around the hem, she felt Ron's chest tighten. She took care to slowly lift his shirt, her knuckles running over his muscles and chest.

Ron hissed as he lifted his arms. Her height made it difficult to push the shirt all the way over his head and arms, and to do so meant she had to lean right up to him and get on her toes to reach.

Ron lifted it the rest of the way, but neither was focused on the shirt. Hermione had lost track of his abs, and she was now staring at his lips, barely inches away from hers. Their breathing was heavy, and they were so close. Neither one moved, finally on the brink, building up to something that was about to spill over.

Then without another thought, Ron's lips pressed deeply into hers. There was no hesitation as her arms wrapped around his neck. He grabbed her waist, and their bodies pressed together. His warmth embraced her, and she sunk into him.

His lips were soft. Hermione had often wondered if it was just the heat of the moment in the Room of Requirement that had made those lips seem so seductive, but now she knew. Ron was an amazing kisser. They seemed to fit perfectly together. His mouth explored hers, his tongue licking along her bottom lip, sending shockwaves throughout her body.

She felt him lift her up, her toes barely touching the floor, as they familiarized themselves with each other's lips after a year and a half apart.

It went on like that for as long as they could survive without air, but eventually Hermione's toes landed on the ground, and they parted.

"Blimey," Ron breathed, staring at Hermione with a growing grin on his face.

"You can say that again," Hermione agreed.

"I'm not sure I can even focus on the game anymore," Ron said, staring lovingly into her eyes.

"Oh. You don't want to finish the game?" Hermione asked. She took a risk and ran her hands down his chest. His eyes closed reflexively as she watched him register her fingertips and palms investigating every hill and valley until they wrapped around his waist.

Hermione didn't know where her newfound confidence had come from. All she knew was that cautious Hermione would never have the courage to be this open and honest. Maybe that had been their problem all along. Maybe they just needed to go for it. Now, all she wanted to do was throw caution to the wind and see where her heart and this game would take her.

"You're going to give me a heart attack, woman." The shadows flickered on his dark features.

"It's up to you, Ron. I'm game if you are...and it's your turn." Her soft voice drew him in, and she watched as he did his best to pull his eyes away from her and onto the board.

He didn't even follow the rules this time. He just knocked over Hermione's last remaining knight and stood back up again.

"That's cheating." She chastised. Ron ignored her, looking her in the eye as he reached for the hem of her shirt.

"Allow me." While she knew she could refuse, it was more of a statement and less of a question. His careful tone told her that he both wanted and needed to do this. That she had awoken a sleeping lion, and he was ready to pounce.

Hermione gave him a slight nod as he walked behind her.

Her eyes closed as she felt his fingers wrap around the bottom of her thin tank top. Before he lifted, though, she felt him pepper achingly slow kisses down the left side of her neck. They were like hot tattoos being imprinted into her, infusing her with an aphrodisiac that made her body beg for more. She leaned into his lips, soaking in the gentle heat.

Before Hermione realized it, her tank top was up over her head and onto the floor next to her. It was as if she was losing time, losing everything, with Ron's touch monopolizing all of her senses.

He didn't stop there; he slowly ran his strong hands down her back and around her stomach. He was close to her now, nuzzling his face into her hair and wrapping his hands around her waist.

"You are gorgeous, Hermione." He murmured into her ear.

Hermione slid around in his embrace to face him. "I could say the same thing about you, Ron." She responded, running her fingers through his hair. "And…" She cleared her throat. "It's my turn."

He whined only a little as she pulled away and glanced at the chessboard. The game was hardly necessary, but it seemed the right thing to do to 'finish'. She looked around and shifted her piece into position.

Ron looked at her move, then back at her as she flicked at the hem of her flannel pajama pants. Ron smiled and knocked over her last rook.

Despite the chill of the night, there was nothing cool about their room. It was filled with heat and seduction, and Hermione was getting lost in it.

Ron slowly walked up to her.

"Are you sure?" He whispered, looking at her with genuine love and affection. "We can wait." He offered.

"Do you want to wait?...You can tell me what you're thinking." Hermione asked. They had been on hold for so long that she was ready to throw herself at him right then and there. She didn't want him to be uncomfortable, either.

"You don't want me to tell you what I'm thinking." He said in a sultry voice.

"No." Hermione shuddered. "I...want you to show me." Her voice caught at the end, trying her very best to share her hidden true desires. She felt the tide turning in their relationship, and she was ready to head directly into the unexplored ocean that was her and Ron's relationship.

Ron let out a rumble, and he slowly dropped to his knees, still looking up at Hermione. She laid her hands on his shoulders, trying to keep steady as she peered down into his blue eyes.

He gently pulled the heart-shaped elastic waistband strings until they released, then pulled her loose-fitting flannel bottoms, sliding them over the curve of her hips and watched as they fell to the ground.

Ron was now in a very precarious position, staring straight at her pale pink knickers. He stood frozen there for a moment, and she hoped it wasn't so obvious how wet she was because her body now had a life of its own. It reacted in ways she couldn't control, not that she wanted to.

They were too far down the path to stop now, and all Hermione wanted to do was enjoy the ride. Her heart and her body had waited for this for so long.

Ron let out a choppy breath as he leaned forward and gently kissed her right hip, right below the panty line.

Hermione let out a whimper. Ron's response was to do it again, slightly lower.

"Tonight, during the game, all I wanted to do was throw you over my shoulder and carry you up to my room." He said as he switched to the other leg and pressed his lips to the front of her thigh.

"I wish you had." She barely got out as he got closer to her center.

He stopped short, sat up a little higher and pressed his lips to the spot between her navel and her panty line. She shuddered in response, then he slowly stood up again.

Hermione glared at him, trying hard not to force him back down to continue with his ministrations.

"Your turn." He said, kissing a spot right behind her ear.

It took a moment for Hermione to open her eyes and return to reality. Ron didn't move, so she pulled herself around him, took a quick look at the board. Hermione ignored the normal rules, grabbed her Queen and knocked over another one of Ron's pieces randomly.

"Your turn." She emphasized, pointing at his sweatpants.

Ron's eyebrows raised in a knowing smile, but she could tell he was nervous.

"I'll be gentle, I promise." She cheeked and slid her hands underneath his waistband, hooking her fingers into the elastic lining on his hips.

She kept eye contact as she slid her hands around the back. She could feel his hardness, and it was awakening something strong and powerful in her. She'd felt whispers of this feeling at night in her room alone when she was thinking of him and tending to her own needs, but it had never ever felt this powerful or uncontrollable.

She waited a moment, Ron watching her intently, as she pushed his pants down over his hips and bum. They silently fell to the floor, but Hermione kept her hands on his backside, feeling the taut roundness and then sliding her hands up his firm back, almost reaching his shoulders.

"It's my turn." He hesitated. They both knew that her next article of clothing would be her bra, and from here, going back would be nearly impossible. Though, Hermione suspected, she couldn't go back now even if Hippogriffs were dragging her out of the room.

"It is." Hermione acknowledged.

They didn't move away this time, but Ron simply leaned over, grabbed one of his few remaining pieces standing and knocked over her bishop.

He then returned to her and curled a rampant tendril around his finger. He was unusually patient, and in this case, Hermione no longer wanted that, so she helped guide him along. She wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him easier access to unclasp her bra from the back.

He took the hint, kissing her down her neck as he reached for her bra. It took a few fumbles for him to unhook it successfully. Hermione appreciated that it was a challenge. Though he had never mentioned other women, she wasn't sure how many bras he'd unhooked since Hogwarts.

She felt the bra go loose, and she dropped her arms from around his neck. With expert precision, Ron slowly pulled her straps down over the curve of her shoulders, and her bra fell to the floor.

She felt unusually bare now, despite still having her underwear on. Ron was standing in front of her, shell shocked and looking at her chest, his face blank. She rubbed her arm, not sure what this sudden quiet in Ron could mean. Were they what he had expected? Were they not?

"Merlin, Hermione." He breathed. "I...you…you're perfect."

Hermione's entire body relaxed and warmed at his remarks. Her face flushed as she stood there in front of him. He took another step forward, and she smiled, letting him know that he was welcome to get to know her body a bit better.

"This is not how I imagined the night going." Ron said, now within reach.

"Me either. But, I'm glad. I've...been waiting for you." She held her breath as their eyes met once more. He didn't look down, just kept his focus on her eyes, but she knew he was barely inches away.

His strong hands wrapped themselves around the base of her neck and then slowly ran down her shoulders. She tried to remain calm, but the amount of sexual tension in the room was insurmountable, and all they could do was ride the wave until it broke into a flood of ecstasy. Hermione didn't mind the slow and tantalizing ride though, every dark and sultry dream she had combined didn't compare to tonight. Didn't compare to what was happening at this very moment.

Ron's hands slowly slid down her chest until they reached her soft, round breasts. His calloused hands rolled over each of her nipples, and they both hissed simultaneously in pleasure. Ron squeezed her breasts as she leaned her head into his chest. His head fell onto hers, trying to hide in her thick mane.

"I'm not going to be able to hold out much longer, Hermione. You have no idea what you do to me." He shuddered into her as he continued to knead and roll his fingers around her hard nipples. She tried to respond that she did have an idea, a very good idea, but the pulsing low in her belly kept her from voicing any coherent words.

She took a deep breath and pushed him away as hard as she could.

He let out a small whimper of dissatisfaction, but Hermione needed to concentrate. She needed to finish the game. She pushed him back again as he came towards her, and slid her way over to the bed to look at the board. She tried to manage a strategy that would lead to her win in a few short moves, but that felt like hours away, and she didn't have hours.

"Screw it." She said as she grabbed her for her king. "This is ending now."

She carried her king over all the chess pieces and knocked Ron's over with a final blow.

"I win." Hermione announced as she glanced back over her shoulder. Ron was not paying attention. Instead he was staring at her rear end, which was pointed out toward him while she was studying the chessboard.

"I'm not sure about that, Mione." He answered.

Hermione stood up and turned around, and yet again, Ron was transfixed on her every curve. She could feel his eyes exploring every new inch of her skin, but she wanted more too. She had won the game, and she was going to take her victory.

"Drop them, Ron," Hermione commanded, pointing at his boxers. The bulge in his pants was clear, even in the darkness of night. Ron looked at her again, giving her a slight nod and taking a deep breath.

Hermione leaned against the bed as she watched, almost fully naked herself.

He slid his boxers down around his hips. Every single part of him was fit and trim, and she followed the grooves on his hips as he lowered his boxers to the floor.

When he stood back up, Hermione held back a gasp. She had never seen one in person before, but Ron seemed well endowed, and his member stood firmly at attention before her.

He observed her carefully. He didn't seem nervous necessarily, but didn't appear to be overly confident either.

"Umm, can I?" Hermione asked, pulling herself up and taking a step forward. She watched Ron swallow, and nodded mutely, unable to find the words.

She took another step, and he was right there, frozen in place, giving the impression that he was simultaneously terrified that she was so close, while also hoping she'd advance.

She smiled softly. She slowly slid her hands down his pecs, then over the hills of his abs, past his navel and further to his hips.

Then, still keeping contact with his eyes, she wrapped her hand around his manhood.

He sucked in his breath as she held tight. She wasn't sure exactly what she was doing, but she slowly began moving her hand back and forth. His eyes slammed shut immediately, and he grabbed her shoulder to steady himself.

"H-Hermione. You've got to stop. I'm not...I can't…"

Her heart quickened, her body vibrating at the thought of Ron being this turned on by her. She didn't stop. She didn't want to. All she could think about was wanting to know what Ron looked like in his moment of ecstasy.

"Hermione, I'm serious…" He warned, grabbing both her shoulders.

"Do you want me to stop?" She asked innocently.

Ron let out a throaty rumble. He didn't say no, so she continued. A bead of sweat rolled down his stomach, and her instincts went into hyperdrive. She picked up speed, pumping faster and faster, wanting him to feel how she'd been feeling, her pent up desire ready to burst. He reached down and grabbed for her breast, his forehead landing on hers.

"Hermione, I'm so close," He choked. He was leaning most of his weight on her now.

"I want you to," she whispered in his ear. "Come for me."

That was all it took as Ron began shuddering uncontrollably against her. Hermione felt the ecstasy roll over him, and she continued to pump until he slowly quieted, still slumped over her, his face still pressed into her hair.

"Did...that really just happen?" He paused, then continued. "I'm dead, right? I must be dead." He rationalized.

"Well, I certainly hope not." Hermione grinned innocently, helping him gather his composure.

When Ron pulled away, there was something new in his features that Hermione had never seen before. She couldn't exactly describe it in words, but she knew it was there. Somehow every inch of his face was relaxed and at ease. She'd seen a look similar before, but this was something different, as if every single thought or worry had evaporated, and he was now just Ron. He had always been at ease, but this was an entirely new level. He was one-hundred percent comfortable with her.

"That was…" Ron trailed off, unable to finish. "I just...Hermione. How do you seem to know my wildest fantasies?" He asked her, his forehead still up against hers.

"This is your wildest fantasy?" Hermione cheeked suggestively, lifting her eyes to meet his.

"You really are going to kill me, aren't you?" He smiled, their noses now touching.

He didn't wait for a response, instead he reached for his wand on the nightstand and cast a cleaning spell over the floor and Hermione. Then he cast a contraception spell on himself.

While he did that, Hermione took a few steps back over to the bed and began putting the pieces away. Ron joined her after a moment, putting away his own players in comfortable silence.

It didn't feel strange at all that they were nearly naked, almost like it was another day of being best friends...except with a lot of extra skin showing.

Finally, everything was put away. Ron grabbed the set and slid it under his bed.

Hermione leaned against the mattress, running a finger subconsciously around one of her errant curls. Ron moved toward her, and she stood up to meet him.

He didn't wait and instead pressed his body to hers and leaned into her ear. "It's your turn now."

Hermione felt her temperature begin to rise again. He slowly pushed her up onto the bed, still on top of her, as if he had now fully transformed into a lion and his prey was beneath him, ready to be devoured.

"Not until you say it." Hermione answered, as she looked coyly up at him.

"Anything." Ron responded, not able to control himself.

"I won, didn't I?" She lifted up on her elbows, trying to demonstrate her dominance, but it was no use— she was his now.

Ron leaned down towards her and giving her an agonizingly sensual kiss.

"Hermione Granger is my King." He whispered as he kissed her just below her chin. Hermione hummed in appreciation.

"You are my King." He repeated lower this time.

By now, every coherent thought left Hermione, and her mind was focused solely on his hot lips trailing down her neck towards the parts of her she most wanted him to explore.

He repeated it, but it all seemed garbled to her as she felt Ron's hands trace down her ribs and his lips descend onto her breasts. He kissed closer and closer until they enveloped her tip, and swirled his tongue around it.

"R-Ron." She stuttered, grabbing for his hair, trying to find anything to steady herself. She was coming undone.

He continued to whisper to her as he passed over her next mound, taking extra care to roll his tongue around her other nipple, eliciting uncontrollable moans of appreciation. How had she gone without his lips for so long? If she had known his touch would be this powerful, she would have grabbed him and shoved him up against a wall in the Library long ago.

Her mind was brought back to reality as he slowly moved back and offered gentle kisses right between her two mounds. She whimpered, wanting to continue rolling his tongue around over her.

She wasn't sure what he was thinking, but she was ready to give him complete control. Every move he made elicited another rise in her, wanting him to go deeper, explore further, pull her closer and closer to the edge.

He continued kissing all the way down to her navel. She was still laying on the bed, but every once in a while she couldn't help but arch her back.

She felt Ron grab for the edges of her thin pink panties. "Hermione?" He asked, offering a lingering kiss between her navel and her underwear.

"Ron, I'm yours." She responded as if giving him a free pass for all future requests. She felt him smile against her as he slowly pulled her underwear down over her hips. She lifted herself up slightly to assist, but that was about all she could manage.

"Merlin, Hermione." Ron breathed as he took a moment and then continued his journey south. He placed tender kisses on each hip, and then started kissing, inching nearer to her center.

She couldn't help but shift as he kissed closer and closer. The inner thigh felt so sensitive with a chill highlighting the place he'd just sucked.

Though he'd never roamed the underworld of her body, he seemed to have his own private map.

Then she felt him, like a bolt of lightning, her body sprung to life.

"Ron!" She called, looking down in surprise. He hadn't used his hands as she expected. He had instead used his tongue, right on her most sensitive bundle of nerves. She had explored her own body and offered it pleasure many times, but it had never felt like this. It was as if her body had its own steering wheel that seemed to be controlled solely by Ron's tongue.

Ron didn't speak, just hummed huskily as his face pressed back into her lower area, roaming around. She felt him circle her clit with another lap of his tongue, and she let out a low moan she wasn't able to keep in. Her back arched, and she felt the waves of pleasure begin to roll over her.

Then he let his tongue venture up and down from her nub to her core. Her body began to shake, moans continuing to roll out of her. He breathed hot air into her, warming every part of her, then hummed into her, the vibration creating miniature shots of ecstasy as his tongue found her nub once more. Then, he picked up speed.

"Rooon." She moaned as she grabbed tightly hold of his ginger hair, holding him in place. "I"m...getting...this...I can't." Hermione choked out, her body shaking and bucking in pleasure. He remained steadfast, twisting and twirling his tongue.

"Come on, Hermione." He groaned.

"Please…" She managed to echo as he sucked on her clit hard.

That's when Hermione's reality inverted, and every function of her body tensed, then released in a tsunami of ecstasy. From the tips of her fingers to the tips of her toes, a freight train of adrenaline and sparking jolts of euphoria rocked her. She felt as though she was underwater, but her voice hit a high octave as she called out with pleasure.

Ron didn't stop. He just kept pushing her further and further to the brink until she fell flat against the bed, no longer able to pull herself up to look at him. She panted, staring at the ceiling as a wild smile spread across her face. She let the waves dissipate, and then she knew how Ron felt after his moment earlier. Somehow every negative thought, every worry, every bad thing that ever happened disappeared in a split second, and all she was left with was an ethereal moment of bliss.

Ron crawled up onto the bed, looking down at her in sheer satisfaction.

"Ron, that…you…" Hermione tapered off.

"So that's how I do it." Ron joked, stroking her cheek.

"Do what?" She said, still trying to quiet her breathing.

"Render you speechless." He responded with a lopsided grin.

"Yes, anytime you want to render me speechless, I give my full blessing." Hermione smiled, still on Cloud Nine.

After a moment of peering down at her, Ron spoke again, somewhat quieter this time. "Do you want to call it a night?" His features showed genuine affection, but his brows furrowed slightly as if unsure of her answer.

Hermione watched him. She surveyed every freckle on his face, the concern in his eyes, the cautious smile he just wasn't able to hide. She thought about all they had been through over the years. How every moment from Hogwarts and beyond had guided them to this moment. Despite the fact that mere hours ago they were on completely different planets as it related to their relationship, something had shifted in Hermione. Or maybe it settled. And in that moment, as she looked into his eyes, she decided to fully embrace her desires, to move beyond fear and take a new risk. A risk that she knew would bring her and Ron endless happiness.

"I told you, Ron. I'm yours. And I'm ready...if you are." Her body calmed, now at peace with herself.

Ron didn't wait long. He quickly pressed his mouth to hers, sliding his tongue between her lips. They spent the next few minutes exploring each other's mouths and enjoying the moment of peace between all of the activity. His hands roamed up and down her arms and sides.

She could feel that he was hard again, pressing himself against her. She circled her arms around his neck and slid them up and down along his back subconsciously.

She then lifted her legs around his waist, pulling him tighter to her. She could feel the sweat from their bodies join together as he pushed himself into her craving more. Both absorbed the intoxicating sensation.

He then pulled away, and their eyes locked. That's when she knew they were ready. It was time for them to become one.

Neither needed words as he shifted into place. She tried to relax, knowing from her readings that it often hurt the first time. He seemed to know it too, being patient as he waited for her.

After a moment, and a few breaths of preparation, she gave him a nod.

He leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers, deepening their kiss. And then, he pushed into her.

They both let out simultaneous groans as he slid further and further inside her. All of her juices were flowing, which helped him glide in without too much pain. Their lips were still on one another, but they weren't active. Instead, they were both focused on his large member pushing deep into her. Ron paused there, and his lips began moving again, kissing her tenderly.

Once she felt comfortable, she returned his kisses and gave him permission to continue.

He pulled his hips back and then slowly thrust himself back into her. She felt a new shot of ecstasy as he returned. He backed out again and shoved himself back in, faster this time. Hermione felt the flush rise up her neck, and she started to understand the special feeling that came with this type of act.

"Yesss." Hermione hissed as Ron's guttural noises growing.

He pressed forward, over and over again. His pace was consistent, and the want and need she felt for him to go faster and deeper rose. She used her legs to encourage him in, whines of pleasure eliciting, pushing her again, closer and closer to the edge.

The wild fervor they felt grew and grew. The tingling sensations were fast approaching, and she knew she wasn't far from another blissful release.

"Please, Ron, faster. I need...faster...so close." Hermione urged, almost begging him.

His eyes were slits, and she knew he was close too. He took her direction and began pounding into her hard and fast. She gasped as his hardness sent shockwaves through her.

Every inch of his body scorched her, and every thrust sent her further down a tunnel of maddening elation. She couldn't hold on much longer.

"Mione, I'm...I'm…" With a powerful rocketing thrust, she felt Ron release, with uncontrollable shudders. That was all it took, his body hitching against hers, for her own body to begin to soar in pleasure. She held him as they both spasmed together.

After a few more moments, both returned to each other, and Ron's body let itself relax against her. She could barely breathe with him atop of her, but even if she did have her full lung capacity, she wasn't quite sure breath would return to her.

She shifted slightly, and Ron pulled himself out of her slowly, then fell over on his back next to her, both staring up at the ceiling.

For the first time since they began this (what Ron would eventually refer to it as "The Chess Match of the Century"), neither offered any words to sum it up or encompass the experience of what happened. They just remained there, revisiting the last hour of their existence, committing it to memory.

Ron inched his hand over and threaded it in with Hermione.

Hermione finally pulled herself onto her side to look at Ron and let out a long involuntary yawn.

"Tired?" He asked her as she rested her chin on his chest. She nodded with an affectionate smile.

He traced her cheek with his hand and then pulled himself up off the bed. She followed him and grabbed her underwear from the corner, and slipped it on. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, he paced over to his dresser, and pulled out a shirt, and tossed it over to her.

She pulled it over her head and no longer felt like a weirdo for inhaling his freshly laundered scent. Unable to remain conscious for much longer, she climbed onto his bed and under the covers.

Ron was leaning up against the side of the dresser, just staring at her with a loving look in his eye.

"Are you coming?" She yawned. "I'm cold."

Ron strode over silently and climbed into bed next to her. She turned, so her back was facing him, and Ron grabbed her around the waist and pulled her tight. He nuzzled his face into her neck as she wiggled her bum up into the curvature of his body.

"You know you've ruined Chess for me." Ron whispered in her ear. "How am I ever going to beat Ernie McMillan when all I'll be able to think about is you?"

Hermione snuggled into him further, shifting just slightly towards his face. "So your Strip Chess nights are all played out now?" Hermione responded as she dozed.

"Well, there may be one exception." He squeezed her and nuzzled further into her shoulder as she felt his breath release and relax. Then, without another thought, she drifted off, entirely at peace, dreaming of Chess pieces and a pair of perfect lips on hers.

The End