Chapter 1: Hiding in the Attic

"Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead: They are coming! …."

With just nine words, Kingsley Shacklebolt's Patronus sent the entire wedding party into chaos. Even though his heart was now almost leaping out of his chest with fear, Ron productively channeled it into a singular focus. His blue eyes narrowed as he scanned over the rapidly dispersing crowd with dizzying speed. In seconds, like a heat-seeking missile, his gaze found her, also scanning fretfully with her big, beautiful brown eyes. The hem of her red cocktail dress was swishing at her ankles.

Even as people were diving, scattering into his line of vision, Ron fought past it, along with the rapid traffic jam of stampeding, fleeing bodies, to get to her. There was a sudden WHOOSH, heralding a black plume of smoke crashing through the marquee, and the murmurs of distress pitched up into screams. As the BANGS of curses split the air, Ron finally weaved around the last person and lunged himself at Hermione, crashing into her side. The pair clutched at each other with fear and love, now on the lookout for their other best friend. Figures in dark robes were beginning to pop up around the reception tent, the dance floor. A green jet of light came careening out from behind the drinks bar and missed a Disapparating target, splintering instead into one of the marquee's tent poles a hundred yards away. The Death Eaters were arriving, hell, here already! They had to find Harry and leave NOW!

"HARR -!"

Ron clapped a hand over Hermione's mouth before she could finish screaming their best mate's name, even as he followed her eyes and caught sight of him. All too briefly, hazel orbs met those of his friends, a pained grimace crossed his face –

…. and then the Boy Who Lived vanished quicker than a snap of the fingers.

Hermione's brown eyes bulged and she struggled against where Ron still had a hand to her mouth.

"HARMMMMMMMM!"

"Shhh! Shhh!" Ron shushed her frantically. Thinking fast, he dragged Hermione backwards, out of the lights of the marquee tent and into the darkness towards the rear of the Burrow's property. He tried not to be angered by how Hermione still squirmed against him. "Hermione, come on! We gotta hide!" Quickly, he hustled Hermione to the rear of the house and the pair melted into the tree-line where a thick wood bordered the edge of the Weasleys' property; all the while, Ron kept his wand at the ready in his free hand. It was a risky bet – for all he knew, Death Eaters were in the process of popping up at every edge of this acreage, sealing off any escape. Still, he was betting that of the Dark Lord's followers who had arrived, none of them had seen or recognized him, or Hermione. They just had to get out of the open, at least, and work out a plan from there.

Bother that Harry for buggering up the plan they already had, for it had been a good one, too…..

"Mmmmmm! MMMMMMHMMMMMM!" An indignant squeak from under his palm made Ron start and he finally removed his hand from Hermione's mouth. He probably rightly deserved how her bewitching brown eyes now flashed at him a baleful glare, but he had needed to keep her quiet, if only for a few moments.

"Well…." she huffed, sounding slightly flustered, and if not for the high stakes, Ron would have thought her tone almost adorable. "You certainly are no gentleman…"

Embarrassed as he was, he couldn't dwell on that just now, except to say, "I'll make it up to you by asking you for another dance, if you'll have me."

Hermione merely let out a sniff of disapproval, which quickly hitched into a shaky breath, as she too now pulled out her wand. In the moonlight, Ron was horrified to see tears forming in her irises; his best girl seemed to be one tick away from hyperventilating.

"He's gone…. He's gone and we don't know where he went, and he doesn't have us with him – he doesn't have anything with him! I packed for days…."

At this tidbit, Ron paled: Hermione was right; all of their supplies, all of the texts she had absconded with from Dumbledore's office last term were still packed away in her bag, up in their room.

Unless….

"Unless…. He was planning this all along, and he made off with all your packed stuff…"

Hermione froze for a moment, and then rounded on Ron, seeming horrified and enraged at the very thought. "He took my bag! That…. bastard made off with my beaded bag!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa – it's just a theory! We don't know whether Harry did or not. Frankly, the bloke doesn't plan that far ahead, which is where you come in, love."

He couldn't be sure by the moonlight, never mind the distant lights from the marquee, but he thought he saw Hermione blush prettily. Without trying to, he hoped it was because she didn't entirely mind him referring to her with such a term of endearment.

A chorus of shouts rose in volume from the near distance, and Ron and Hermione both lifted their wands. They kept a sharp watch at each other's backs, hoping that Death Eaters wouldn't materialize out of the trees behind them.

"We can't stay here…." Ron panted.

"Where do you suppose we go, then?" Hermione cried. "Apparate in hop-along fashion until we find Harry using trial and error?"

"Not ruddy likely – he could have Disapparated anywhere!"

Hermione tossed her brown curls to give Ron another pointed look. "Not anywhere, Ronald! We were starting to kick around ideas for safe houses, and there's only a few places in the country that could be safe for someone like our best mate! Now, if you were Harry, where would you run and hide?"

It was certainly an interesting thought exercise, but before Ron could hazard a guess, he heard the sound of a twig snapping in the trees. Thinking fast, he boldly dared to wind his arms about Hermione's slim waist and pull her flush to him, causing her to nearly choke.

"Ronald! What…. what are you doing?!" Though there seemed to be something thrilling, almost…. aroused clouding over her orbs.

"You're gonna have to trust me!" Ron breathed. Holding her close, he spun on the spot and Disapparated.

When they reappeared with a POP! in a darkened room, the sound of shouting and dueling could still be heard, the distance of the cacophony about the same as it had been when they were huddled in the trees.

Hermione looked about herself, wriggling out of Ron's embrace and placing her hands prissily on her hips. "Where exactly did you take us? Because it doesn't seem like anywhere!"

"We're in our attic," Ron explained shortly, floating on light-footed feet down a small flight of steps and shrinking against the trapdoor. It was on a cornered angle, the opening etched into where the wall met the floor. The youngest Weasley son cocked his ear to the door and listened carefully.

"Chaos is still going on outside. I'm gonna pop downstairs and see what's what."

Hermione immediately went white, fear gnawing at her heart. "Ron…..!"

But he was turning back and ushering her into a shadowy corner in the back of the attic. "No matter what happens, darling – STAY. DOWN!"

"Ron – no! What are you doing….?" But Ron was already dropping through the trapdoor and her squeaky voice was choked off.

Minutes passed like hours. The silence was stifling, disturbing. None of the atmosphere was helped by the markedly chilly draft up in this room, and Hermione drew her arms about herself in a hug. She suddenly wished her cocktail dress wasn't sleeveless. It seemed foolish of her now to have been satisfied otherwise, on the rationale that Ron might appreciate her showing a little skin, albeit innocently. Getting dressed for the wedding seemed so long ago now….

The attic door suddenly banged open and Hermione had barely drawn her wand before she caught a backlit flash of what she dearly hoped was red, long, luscious hair….. She stopped and mentally slapped herself in the same moment that Ron slammed the attic door shut behind him.

"Well – just as I suspected! Dad and the twins were smart enough to move the ghoul down to my room while we were all readying the marquee."

Hermione drifted into him. "The one with spattergroit? The one that's supposed to be….?"

"Ssssh!" he shushed her, glancing furtively about. "Can you put protective charms on the door? The Death Eaters haven't started ransacking the house, but they will soon enough. We can't have them searching this attic!"

Hermione dutifully sashayed past him, and pointed her wand at the attic trapdoor. She used every trick about wards she knew. "Salvio Hexia…. Colloportus….. Homenum Concealia…."

As she did so, between spells, she grilled Ron. "What else did you find?"

"It was what I didn't find, more like," Ron chuffed bitterly. "Barking as it may sound, I was right: …."

"You're right: you being right does sound barking." She grinned with relish at her own clever quip, even as Ron half-heartedly glowered at her.

"Your beaded bag isn't in our room. I searched the place thoroughly as I could without disturbing too much, and it's not there!"

Though shocked, Hermione felt her jaw clench with anger and betrayal. "He never intended to take us with him…. he played us!"

"So it would seem," Ron sighed.

From somewhere down far below, a sudden creak made both Ron and Hermione freeze. The pair exchanged panicked glances. The noises wafting up to them were followed by muffled, raised voices, along with some THUMPS that may have indicated signs of a struggle.

"They're in the house….." Ron breathed.

Hermione frantically warded the door with the most advanced, NEWT-level magic she knew, hoping against hope it would seal them inside. Desperately, she tried to control her breathing. "Do…. do you think they'll…. search this far up….?"

"No telling." Ron was grim.

All at once, a bloodcurdling scream seemed to float up to them almost through the floorboards. Hermione's heart broke at how Ron reacted to the sound as though it was causing him physical pain.

"Sweet Merlin! That…. that sounds like Ginny! They're torturing her!"

He suddenly made a mad dash for the trapdoor and Hermione had to block him. She needed to hold him against her, in fact, leaving him to violently struggle in her arms.

"'Mione, let go! Geroff of me! That's my baby sister! …."

"Ron, Ron, love, listen, there's nothing we can do for them! There's nothing we can do!..." Hermione was babbling out sweet nothings, trying to comfort him even as fat tears splashed down her front. "Gin's a tough girl; she'll be all right…."

Ron finally exhausted himself of all fight, and staggered back to slump against one wall, sliding down. Biting her lip prettily, Hermione drifted over to kneel beside him. For a long moment, she debated if there was any way to float the idea sensitively, before finally suggesting as gently as she could. "We….. we need to get out of here…"

Ron shook his head, looking understandably conflicted. "We try to Disapparate, they'll hear it downstairs and know my family's been lying to them! Can't you see, Hermione? They're torturing Ginny and the others to find us!"

"…. And if they find us, they'll be halfway to finding Harry," Hermione stated gravely.

"Not if we even don't know where he went!" Ron pointed out, looking appalled at the idea that Hermione might be even insinuating that they flee and leave his parents, his siblings, behind.

"Ron:" Hermione stared at him hard. "The Death Eaters might yet fall for the ghoul ruse, and think they have you. And as long as they think they have you, you can get away!"

"We can get away," Ron corrected her. "But even if we could without alerting the Death Eaters, I can't leave my family to this!" Taking both her palms in his, he held up their clasped hands between them. "You go. Run. Find Harry – hell, find your parents! You'd stand a better chance off the grid with them Down Under anyway…"

"Are you insane?!" Hermione gawped at him. "I would never walk out on Harry the way he just walked out on us! And I absolutely won't leave without you!"

Another abrupt creak made the pair both freeze; Ron and Hermione's eyes shot as one towards the attic door.

"…. Check up here then?" A gruff voice – clearly intelligible – was drawing nearer.

"Ro…." Hermione started to whimper.

"Ssssh!" he hissed. He crept lightly over to the door, feeling Hermione moving just as cautiously at his back. Wheeling back to her, Ron mouthed:

'Can they get in?'

Hermione dumbly shook her head No, entire face frozen with fear.

"Why, this entire blooming place is sideways, it is! OI! Rowle: look 'ere! This looks like a door stuck 'tween the wall and the ceiling!" A grating voice cackled.

"Might be the attic – and as topsy turvy as this entire litter of blood traitors, too!" A second voice – presumably Rowle – mused.

There was a rattle as one of the Death Eaters tried to jiggle the door handle. "Bollocks! Mate, help me with this thing!"

"And have some set of foldable stairs come crashing down on our 'eads at a barmy angle? You're mad, Avery!"

"But it's locked!" Avery whined.

"Locking up what? Nothing but odds and ends in there!"

Hermione started to quiver; Ron silently waved her down. Goosebumps alighted his skin when Avery said next:

"Could be warded, too. What if someone decided to hide up 'ere like a rat?"

Ron and Hermione exchanged wide-eyed looks.

"Try if you want to," Rowle sighed. "But on your own 'ead be it! Better yet, I hope that foldable ladder's what's comes down on your 'ead!"

This was it. They were going to die. The moment Rowle or Avery tried any spells on the attic door, magic would tell them the door was warded and they would know someone was, in fact, hiding in here. Ron didn't even bother to ponder the slim off-chance that the Death Eaters might just assume that his parents had innocently warded the attic door, because who warded their attics, unless it was to protect something valuable?

An unsteady breath made Ron whirl back in horror to see Hermione scrunching up her nose, in clear preparation for a sneeze coming on. Oh, God….. The attic may be warded, but Ron wasn't sure if it had been Silenced, or Muffliatoed!

Like down at the marquee, he didn't have much time to think of a plan to silence her. Unlike down at the marquee, instead of using his hands, he used his lips.

Abruptly bracing Hermione up against the wall, Ron desperately shoved his lips onto hers in a wild, passionate kiss.

"Mmmmmm?!" Hermione's gorgeous brown eyes popped as she felt Ron's lips suddenly slanting over hers without so much as a 'May I kiss you, please?' Ron simply responded by pressing his lips tighter against hers, followed by the rest of his body pressing up against her own as he pinned her to the wall. She let out another, tiny whimper, the sound parting her lips just the tiniest bit so that she inadvertently let Ron's tongue swim into her mouth, unintentionally deepening the kiss.

Frozen in this strange tableau of an embrace, Hermione felt herself shiver, as her ears now listened to an unintelligible shout coming from down below. Whatever was said, the footfalls of the Death Eaters right at their doorstep were now moving away.

By now, Ron seemed to have forgotten himself, and his lips were now supping from hers with an eager give-and-take. Feeling all the tension drain from her body, Hermione, for a moment, allowed herself to lose her head as well.

"Hmmmmm… Mmmmmmmhmmmmmm…" Without being entirely aware of it, she was suddenly looping her arms tentatively about Ron's neck, curiously kissing him back. Her wand dangled loosely in her one palm now brushing along his strong shoulder blades, while her other, free hand had ended up tangled in his wavy, auburn hair.

Ron's lips left hers for the briefest instant, allowing air to flow back into Hermione's lungs, and with it, logic into her brain. She pushed him away, trying to sound affronted. "Wha….? – How dare you! How dare you kiss me!" Her tone sounded weak, even to her own ears. She actually almost felt sorry for Ron at how crestfallen he looked.

"I didn't have time to….. I just saved your life!" he spluttered.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "You also just kissed me without my permission."

"Well, I'm sorry, but this wasn't exactly how I imagined our first kiss either!" Ron bit back.

His deliberate phrasing made Hermione falter in her anger a little bit. She blushed, in spite of herself. He's….. fantasized about our first kiss? Now that she stopped to consider it, it was actually quite sweet. She now clutched at her one arm in a kind of self-side hug, ducking her head, suddenly feeling quite shy. Lashes fluttering, she stammered, "I….. I didn't exactly peg nearly getting caught in an attic by Death Eaters as how we'd….. have our first kiss either."

Blinking rapidly, she dared to lift her head and gauge Ron's reaction. One look at the smoldering gaze in his deep, impossibly blue eyes and her knees felt weak, enough that she nearly collapsed.

"And how did you imagine it then?"

Gazing into his eyes, Hermione took a deep breath. She wasn't sure what would come next, how the man she had loved since she was a little girl would respond to her confessing her feelings at last, but let it be. They'd been inches and seconds away from dying after all, and the fight to defeat Voldemort had only just begun. At the rate things were going, another opportunity like this wasn't in the cards.

She swallowed, throat dry. "Like this." She was amazed by the huskiness in her own voice. But she was even more flabbergasted with herself that she dared to seize Ron's skull in her fists before she smashed her lips onto his.

The moment their lips touched, Hermione trembled as she felt Ron's burly arms snake about her waist and tug her tightly into him. Now, she damn near collapsed. Swooned, in fact, her knees giving out a little. It might have been to help prop her up, but her breath still hitched in a gasp of astonishment as she felt Ron's palm drip lower to cup the curved cheek of her arse. Squirming a little, she moaned piteously into his willing mouth. Her eyelids fluttered and drooped shut as she closed them dreamily.

"Mmmmm….."

Ron's other hand was in her hair, undoing the bushy strands from their hair ties so that her chestnut curls now cascaded like a waterfall down to nearly the middle of her back. Then his hand swept down and very assertively gripped the underside of her thigh, causing Hermione to suck in a sharp breath. She was utterly stunned at how dominant Ron was behaving as he very deliberately hitched her leg and lifted it up; she submitted with acquiescence and allowed her thigh to hook about his torso at the back of the knee. She smirked dryly into his unyielding mouth at the knowledge that his other hand was still feeling up her bum through her dress.

As the couple embraced, they began to stagger backward, deeper into the attic. Someone's foot – it seemed like it was hers, the one not dangling at Ron's waist – tripped on an errant box and the entire world swayed. Her arms dreamily wound about Ron, clutching him close, Hermione squeaked and waved her wand frantically.

The soft plush texture of an air mattress just conjured caught her and Ron landed on top of her with an Ooof! Ron and Hermione were kissing frenetically now.

No, not kissing. This…. this was….

"This seems more like snogging," Ron observed during a quick second when he came up for air.

"Bloody damn right!" Hermione snarled with a lust she hadn't heard or felt so blatantly inside herself before and she dragged his lips back down to hers again.

Their breathing was mingling, coming in rough gasps. With a sigh mostly deadened by the feel of his lips on hers, Hermione languidly spread her legs for him, allowing the man on top of her to nestle between where her knees now lifted up to grip either side of him.

She shuddered as she felt Ron's hands bunch up, shove the hem of her red cocktail dress up over her slim hips. Wand still in her fist which now hung limply at her side, Hermione impulsively Vanished away her panties with a simple twirl.

Ron let out a choking sound before becoming something like a man possessed. He dared to rip the bodice of Hermione's dress down so that her breasts hung free like apples. He seemed dazed to discover she hadn't been wearing a bra, preferring instead to let her cleavage air freely. The purple peaks of her nipples were hardened and Ron switched from ravaging his lover's lips to laving her boobs, sucking on the buds hard. Hermione cried out, arching her back, lifting, pushing her hips up to meet, cradle his.

"God….. Godric! Ron….."

She sensed, felt the moment that a hard and stiff thing – his manliness – brushed the flooded folds of her damp center. Ron froze in slobbering Hermione's nipples to lift his head from her cleavage, meet her eyes. Blushing down to her chest, Hermione bravely nodded.

Ron considerately, gentlemanly attempted to push inside her as slowly as he could. With the warmth and wetness of her heat, it did no good: he still took her and her virginity with one thrust, causing Hermione to let out a shout of pain, which quickly lilted into a whining sigh of pleasure. He kissed her face to calm her.

As he began to experimentally grind against her, Hermione learned right away that Ron was not the gentlest of lovers, though some of that could be chalked up to eagerness. All the same, this wouldn't do, wouldn't do at all, so she boldly pushed her hands into his chest and rolled them both to the side, slamming a stunned Ron onto his back as she swung a creamy leg over his thigh and moved to straddle him. Pleased at how her new lover was gazing up at her with a look of wondered awe, Hermione smirked and shyly but purposefully began to roll her hips into where she now sat almost regally astride his.

Another groan almost escaped her, and she bit her lip in the nick of time, remembering and fearing that the Death Eaters might hear if they…. if she and Ron…. made love.

"Muff-Muffliato…." She panted, waving her wand which she somehow still had a grip on. "Si-Silenco Max….Maxima….. Oooooh….." She lolled her head back as Ron managed to lurch his face forward and take her breast in his mouth.

She only just had the presence of mind to cast one more charm: the one for contraception. On the side of the mattress, only now did the fist gripping her wand go slack, her fingers opening so as to allow the magical stick to settle with a soft clatter to the floorboards.

Now lightly pressing her palms flat into his broad and firm chest, Hermione passionately rode him, her breasts jiggling in his mouth, which was still lathering them. Craning up, Ron kissed her deeply and Hermione went down on him until he was balls-deep inside her. She was bouncing on him now, their joining bodies making the most delicious, slapping, squelching sound as they came together.

Best of all, none of the Death Eaters several floors below could hear them, so Hermione let herself be as loud as she liked while she and Ron had sex for the first time:

"Hmmmm….. Mmmmmm….. Huhhhh….. Uhhhhhhh… UGGHHHHHHH! UHHHHHHH! OHHHHHHHHHH!"

The moment that her amorous partner made her cum, Hermione knew that making love was the most amazing thing to have existed. And she knew that she wanted to make love to Ron, and only Ron, again and again and again.