Disclaimer: This is meant for amusement, and no gains, monetary or otherwise are being amassed from, excluding my joy of writing, of course!

Author's Ramblings: Another chapter! Ta da! Still no Severus. Rest assured he will come and Ron will be pushed to the background. Bit of cheesy fluff and Romance. All Romione. And a hint of something lemony and voluptuously delectable to cum!

And a big thank you to the following people for following my story. It feels good to know that people out there are reading my stories and probable getting some small amount of satisfaction amid this pandemic.

A5mia

DanySant

JulGladiat

Samb 1988

Writerles

sciencegirl22s

songintheglaciers

And an even bigger thank you to my friend, mentor and supporter- 🍁IronChick🍁

For being with me and encouraging me.

The sun streamed from in-between her ochre curtains, letting in a warm iridescent glow. The rays golden and demure, played with Hermione's dreams to wake her up with a tender kiss on her eyes.

"Ah! What a beautiful day!" She made herself comfortable in her warm furry kitten skippers, gave a satisfied yawn and stretched to welcome the new day. The birds twittered noisily and the curtains fluttered delicately, as if twirling and dancing to the morning tunes and melodies. Her eyes twinkled at such marvels and the death and despair of the previous days was soon forgotten.

Hurrying up she got ready, leaving her hair wild and open, flowing with her like a golden- brown trail of autumn leaves. A few strands of hair framed her radiant visage and soon she was hopping towards the Great Hall, looking for Ron and Harry. It took her almost an eternity to spot them on the Gryffindor table, teasing and grinning, oblivious to her worry and concern. "Where were the lot of you? I've been searching since ages!"

"Relax Mione! We were just outside on the Quidditch pitch, enjoying the day. Isn't it just beautiful?" The black haired, green eyed boy, the dream of many a swooning girls at Hogwarts, answered with an easy smile.

"Yeh, mate. Just perfect for Quidditch!", came the muffled response from the overly stuffed boy beside him. His face was brimming with mashed potatoes and bacon with a glass of pumpkin juice ready on the lips and a steak greasing his fingers.

Hermione sighed in disappointment. After yesterday's actions on the pitch, she had not expected this. Yeah, it was just usual for Ron to be insensitive and crass and entirely involved in food and Harry, dear Harry was being understanding and sympathetic, as much as he could without being in the know of yesterday's events. She almost chided Ron for his table manners or rather his lack thereof, but didn't want to spoil those magical moments of the day gone by. She gazed at his utter disregard for anyone except his appetite but still felt a blush blooming on her face. Yesterday, he had seemed soo…..so smitten! And by her no less! Could it be that she was dreaming? No! Fate couldn't play such a cruel joke on her! Not after Ron had so dearly asked if she'd go flying with him. Taking a deep breath, she readied herself for the first class.

Hermione entered the classroom, shoulders hunched and no semblance of joy playing on her lips. Her eyes were dull and downcast and an indescribable pain cast her heart into despair. She mechanically went through her classes, not once answering the questions like her bubbly excited self, which, needless to be told, drew the shrewd attention of the Transfiguration mistress. Leaving her class, she couldn't help but let hot treacherous tears roll down her already dismal face.

Hadn't she told herself not to be bothered by Ron's pathetic excuse of a romantic attempt. Arrrgggghhh… She, the supposedly brightest witch of her age had actually assumed that Ron, yes the thick-headed Ron, would mature from his pea-sized brain! Alas! Ron had been Ron and Hermione was back to being a lost neglected person.

Lunch time found her, sitting alone in the Gryffindor table with no one but (Merlin forbid!) Ron for company. Others had gone on a picnic spree, enjoying the pleasant weather and tranquillity, so unheard and rare after the war. But, not her. Not after that travesty of his feelings! No, the memory was still, all too fresh! She needed to keep her chin up and not be a maudlin mess.

She did not dignify his sheepish greetings with any response and staunchly, let no thought wander towards the blue-eyed and sweet if, oblivious boy. Minutes ticked by in pregnant silence.

When the tension mounted to unbearable levels, she broke the ice by demanding in a harsh pitiless tone, usually reserved for the likes of bigots like Malfoy (Yes, she sorely wished she could punch his nose!), " Say, Weasely, are you going to speak, or continue gaping like a fish till a family of flies made a pretty little nest, in your worthless mouth?"

Her supercilious tone took him off guard and still unsure he barely whispered, " I am sorry."

"Sorry? Is that all you have to say after trampling on my feelings with no more regard than you would deem to a slimy slobberworm?". Fury crackled around her and she was breathing quite heavily.

"Mione, I….I've….I've….." Here his ears turned scarlet and his hands visibly clammy. Still, gathering all his Gryffindor courage despite the pool of embarrassment he was drowning in, he continued, "….the ball…..in fifth year….very pretty…..", trailed his rather insensible and muddled reply which did nothing to pacify her annoyance.

"Ronald, if I wanted you spewing rubbish, I would have given you a blabbering beverage!" A familiar albeit unplaceable snort sounded from somewhere though she hadn't the patience to deal with it. She visibly tensed, trying to control the last shreds of her anger from unravelling into a furious tirade.

"I'velikedyousincefifthyear!" He blurted, to no doubt an immensely irate Hermione, about to explode with the exasperation building inside her.

" Ronald…." She said sweetly, doing an excellent imitation of Umbridge, as if he were a dumb child.

"…..in English Ron, not Mermish unless you wish to be assaulted with canaries who'd do more than just leaving bloody bruises!" She at last thundered, to the displeasure of the few cowering first years around her.

He looked intimidated and rightly so. After all, you don't want to be on the bad side of this formidable witch. Still, with a courage, only possessed by fools or lovers (and he was decidedly the former in her eyes), he boldly went on, "I've liked you since fifth year. You looked….you looked stunning in your Yule dress but even more beautiful…..yesterday…..in the Quidditch pitch. All I could think was what a fool I've been to not see your inner beauty, buried deep beneath your bossy attitude and tomes of parchment. You've been there for us…for me, even when I acted liked a jealous prat. This morning…..I am really sorry but you looked so happy, with such a glow that I thought I'd better not spoil your mood, which as you know, I do with my silly childish grudges. But well….you don't have to say anything because I was with Lavendar and you didn't have the greatest relationship with her and then I flaunted her, paraded her, with kisses and gifts and you are not that type of a girl who is after dresses and gifts and you'd rather sit in the library with a book than go out with me…."

His nervous ramblings were interrupted with a soft kiss, the sweetest he ever had. For Lavendar kissed as if her life depended on it, pushing her slimy tongue wherever she could, like she were eating him, inside out. She'd graze her nails on his whole body, leaving love bites wherever she could (once, even the inside of his thighs!), striking seductive poses, and dangling her breasts to lick and nibble, but nothing held a candle to the almost innocent, and hesitant touches Hermione bestowed on him. Her moans were still too sweet, and she did not have to make any attempt to entice him. All it took was the darkening of her eyes with lust, and how her dainty lips parted in anticipation, with her warm breath embracing him with love and tenderness.

Were Lavendar's sickening attempts akin to how others felt when he stuffed his mouth like a man terribly starved? But did his Hermione ever take offense? Ah yes, she'd scold and nag him like his mother but did she ever make mean faces and say something hurtful? Did she ever ridicule him for his meagre family income? Or how he'd never pass if she did not bully them to study with her? No, never did she ever do anything more than conjuring a few canaries, which even in his inconsiderate heart seemed justly deserved.

His inner monologue was again interrupted when he felt something warm entering his mouth, sending a tingle straight to his groin.

Hermione on the other hand, was overwhelmed. Her anger all but melted with his candid and heartfelt words. She couldn't help herself from latching at his mouth like an eager lover. Never in her wildest dreams had she expected Ron to actually return her feelings. He returned her feelings. He returned her feelings! And his stammering speech, that lopsided smile, those handsome manly fingers which she had fantasized more times than she'd like to admit, doing wicked things with her body, all seemed so sincere and adorable. And filling her up with a fervent desire to taste every part of his body.

"I will go out with you than sit with a book in the library.", she murmered against the sensitive shell of his ear, causing shivers to run down his spine. He held her more closely, pressing his manhood with impatience and ardour, not that she minded, and started caressing her back with slow and wandering hands.

"Ahem!"

Harry was standing, his face pale as a sheet, trying quite unsuccessfully to keep his face neutral at such an obvious display of wanton desire, displayed by his best mates, no less. He'd never confess to anyone (maybe, just to Ginny at night) but their rough fondling of each other was making it really hard for him to maintain a calm pretence.

Sensing their friend's uncomfort, Hermione steered Ron to a dark empty alcove to protect Harry from further embarrassment, though Ron, currently facing the same problem, very correctly surmised the effect it had had on Harry. He seemed a bit baffled with her zealous desire and she, in what she hoped was a seductive smirk clarified, "Oh Ron! I was a prefect in fifth year and catching all those lovers at night, I know all the nooks and corners in Hogwarts to have a little bit of naughty fun!"

Author's Notes:

Sorry! There is another chapter. Hopefully to satisfy our sour tooth! Two chapters in one day. Quite a feat...

So...read and REVIEW.