Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters.

A/N: Happy Friday, all! Thanks for all the love with the first chapter. This fic will alternate POV's, so it's Ron's turn! I take no responsibility for his foul mouth or less-than-innocent thoughts :)

Special shout-out to the most fabulous beta crew: accio-broom, be11atrixthestrange, adenei, and smjl. You're all rockstars!


Find Me Under the Waterfall

Chapter Two

Ron the Food Blogger


The last thing Ron Weasley expects to find drifting through the hotel pool is a beautiful woman like Hermione Granger.

She captivates him from the start with her voluminous dark honey curls that he just wants to drag his fingers through, and her chocolate brown eyes gazing at him through her lashes, so innocent and bashful.

Fuck. There is nothing like the feel of Hermione's soft, supple lips meshed with his own. He smells the scent of her floral shampoo as he pulls her closer. It feels like a dream, snogging an almost complete stranger in broad daylight, disregarding anyone or anything else around them.

Is the saying about all-inclusive resorts true? Is it really a lover's paradise? He's starting to believe it.

Although he is certain he could spend the entire day with Hermione and never get bored, he doesn't want to come on too strong. So, after a couple of drinks and polite conversation at the swim-up bar, he graciously parts from her, explaining that he needs to tend to his room and get a few work tasks completed before their dinner this evening.

All in all, his grand plan for his first full day at the resort didn't include canoodling with a mesmerizing woman underneath a cascading waterfall. As he watches her walk off in a separate direction, he realizes that he is already content with allowing those plans to change.

Ron decides to go for a stroll through the resort grounds, eager to explore his home for the next week. He's never been to an all-inclusive before, as most of his previous work trips involved him reviewing local pubs and restaurants back home in Devon. His mouth waters just thinking about the cuisine at Pura Vida — the resort certainly isn't lacking in options. He isn't used to having so many amenities available to him all at once, and the feeling is overwhelming — yet somewhat humbling — as he takes in the scenery.

Ron always enjoys the outdoors, and Costa Rica is a wild dry forest. The beachfront stretches before him, with picturesque white sand and lush palm trees that provide little spots of shade from the blaring sun. The ocean is the center of attention at the resort, which situates itself on a steep gully, providing panoramic views of the peninsula.

He trudges through the soft sand, toes curling from the white specks stuck between them. Ron observes the watersports cabana, where guests can rent snorkeling gear, kayaks, and paddleboards — just a few of the many outdoor offerings. There is also a large pier that extends out into the ocean, showcasing an over-the-water restaurant.

As he weaves his way down a path split between two outdoor pool areas, it amazes him to see all of the on-site daytime activities, including water aerobics, table tennis, and pool volleyball. It makes him wonder what the nightlife is like here. He passes by a stretch of greenery, and it pleasantly surprises him to find a giant lawn chess set available for guests. The traditional black and white chess pieces stand tall and his fingers are itching to go over and play. Sometime soon, he resolves.

As he walks on, his thoughts continue to linger on Hermione and how much fun they could have together this week. Ron smiles to himself, shaking his head, knowing that he is already in deep with the beautiful curly-haired woman that he can't seem to stop thinking about.

Ron meanders through the open lobby and locates the activities information desk. He finds a pamphlet on excursions and wonders if it will interest Hermione enough to join him on one. He makes a mental note to ask her if all pans out well on their date.

He grabs a quick lunch at the International Buffet, piling his plate high with an assortment of cuisine before heading back towards his room.

Ron taps his key card to the door and walks into his oceanfront bungalow with a king-sized bed, spacious bathroom with a stand-alone tub, and a private balcony for lounging.

He settles onto the lounge chair on his balcony and pulls out his laptop to write. Although he could get a head start on the article he intends to submit for his publication, Ron decides to add an entry to his blog that he doesn't monetize from but is purely a writing outlet separate from his day job.

Ron ponders for a moment and then updates the description of his current whereabouts. He types in a new header before leaning back in his chair, pleased by what he wrote. Currently eating in Costa Rica! Pura Vida!

He has a feeling that it will be a brilliant week.


The sun is setting by the time Ron walks back over to the pier. The sky looks like a painted canvas, with vibrant streaks of pink, orange, and purple color that shimmer off of the clear blue waves in the ocean.

He loosens the buttons of his plaid dress shirt, already feeling warm in the tropical heat. He takes one last look down at his khaki shorts and sandals, hoping that he is well-dressed enough for the evening.

When he lifts his head back up, his breath catches in his throat as he finds Hermione standing on the beach waiting for him.

And she looks nothing short of amazing.

She is stunning in her tangerine-colored dress, which complements her creamy olive skin. The hem of her dress gathers at her knees yet remains loose and flowy. Her hair is clipped back just enough to allow a few tendrils of curls to blow around her face in the slight breeze.

Ron's lips spread into a wide grin as he approaches, shoving his hands in his pocket as he fights to get his nerves under control. She sends him a shy smile back, making his heart thump in his chest.

"Wow," he breathes, unable to find other words. "You look amazing."

"Thank you," she replies, curt but sweet.

Ron leans over to give her a swift kiss on the cheek. When he pulls back, he sees the blush creeping up over her cheeks. He nods towards the pier restaurant. "Shall we?"

They walk close, shoulder to shoulder and hands brushing together, and it takes everything in him not to reach out and hold her hand. By the end of the dinner, he hopes he'll have the courage to do so.

The waiter seats them in the far corner of the restaurant at one of the only tables that doesn't have at least two other couples surrounding them. The table cover is white linen with a single candle lit in the center. The overhead lights on the wooden ceiling are dim yet provide enough glow for Ron to still make out the frame of Hermione's face across the table.

They agree on an appetizer to start with — coconut-crusted crab cakes with a mango-chili salsa — and the waiter pours two glasses of island-made white wine for them.

Hermione holds the menu with her delicate fingers, and Ron finds himself outlining the intricacies of her face as she studies the menu with furrowed brows. She glances back up, and his face reddens as she catches him staring.

"S-sorry," Ron mumbles, clearing his throat. He doesn't have time to recover as the waiter appears again to take their dinner orders.

After their menus are gone, Ron takes a careful sip of his wine, hoping that the liquid courage will calm him. He catches Hermione's eyes twinkling at him and he knows she is waiting for him to take the lead.

Taking one more large gulp, his muscles relax, and he reckons he should just be honest and see where the night takes them.

"Is it crazy for me to be so nervous right now? After the way we, you know…" His voice trails off and hopes she understands that he is one hundred percent referencing their heated snog. He pictures their hands roaming all over each other in far-from-innocent places.

To his surprise, Hermione reaches over and places her tiny palm into his large hand that rests on the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It's perfectly okay to be nervous, Ron. I am too."

The corners of his mouth twitch, and her response gives him enough confidence to intertwine their fingers together without the intention of letting go for the rest of the evening.

Their crab cakes arrive, and they nibble on the appetizer with their free hands, sharing shy glances back and forth across the table.

Hermione rubs her fingertips together to brush the last bit of crumbs onto her plate and leans back in her chair. Ron can feel her eyes searching his face.

"So...Ron."

"Hermione."

She smiles from behind her wine glass. "Tell me more about yourself."

Ron lifts an eyebrow, playing coy. "That's quite the loaded question, there."

"Okay. Let's see, how about we start at the beginning? Tell me about your childhood. Where did you grow up?"

Ron is grateful for an easy topic. "Okay, well, I grew up in Ottery St. Catchpole, a small village in Devon, England. I come from a large family. I'm the second youngest out of seven."

"Wow! And here I am, an only child."

"There were times I certainly wished I was," Ron chuckles. "I love my siblings, but they can be a pain in the arse sometimes."

Hermione laughs, shaking her head. "And to think there were times I wished I had at least one sibling. It could be quite lonely."

Ron sympathizes with her. Although he often felt annoyed, maybe even overshadowed by his older brothers and younger sister growing up, he couldn't imagine life without them.

"I suppose I had a strong desire to leave the nest once I turned eighteen," Ron continues. "There is so much of the world to explore, and I wanted to figure out who I am, independent from my siblings. Doesn't mean I don't miss my family though."

"I can understand that," Hermione agrees.

"How did you fall into writing?" Ron asks, wanting to know more about her.

She ponders his question for several seconds before answering. "I've written my entire life. I began journaling as a young girl, which started out as writing about my daily experiences. Then it just sort of grew to include my general thoughts on the world. Why are we here, how do we dictate who we are, and what's our purpose in life?"

Ron listens with intent to Hermione's perspective, and he finds himself in awe of her story. She is every bit as intelligent, passionate, and beautiful as he figured from their first meeting just hours ago.

"I know, I know, you're probably thinking about how cheesy that all sounds." Hermione lets out a shaky laugh, breaking Ron from the spell she had on him. He wonders if she mistook his look of pure admiration on his face for one of disinterest.

"Actually, I was thinking about how amazing that all sounds." He makes sure to send her a soft smile and moves a gentle thumb over her hand. "To know from such a young age what you wanted to do when you grew up? That's impressive. All I knew was that I loved to eat, and didn't quite piece together that it could be more than just a hobby until much later."

Thankfully, she laughs at his joke, easing any sort of hesitant feelings in the air. His heart constricts as her eyes sparkle at him in the moonlight.

"This is lovely, Ron. Thank you for asking me out tonight."

"Thank you for saying yes."

They share a long gaze which Ron hopes to be one of mutual affection, before the waiter returns with their main course. Ron's stomach rumbles in hunger from the sight of his Surf & Turf with chargrilled beef tenderloin, lobster tail, and sour cream mashed potatoes on his plate. He checks out Hermione's Thai green seafood curry with coconut cream, lemongrass, and eggplant.

They tuck into their meal, and the conversation flows at a natural pace between them for the rest of their dinner.

"You know," Hermione begins as their empty plates are cleared. "I had this trip all planned out. I had even mapped out what restaurants I wanted to dine in on particular nights. But now...the thought of going through with that plan sounds very lonely. I'm happy that we were able to enjoy this meal together."

"Well," Ron manages a sly smile, "it's not over yet. How about dessert?"

A short time later, a plate with two spoons sits in the middle of the table. Ron stops himself from moaning out loud as his eyes fall on the delectable mango chocolate cheesecake with a chocolate-coconut drizzle. He allows Hermione to take the first bite and his insides grow hot as he watches her lips close around the silver spoon. She hums out of appreciation for the sweet just before her tongue darts out to lick the excess chocolate from her lips.

Bloody fucking hell.

His khakis feel tighter now, and he shifts in his seat. It takes everything in him not to suggest that they continue their evening in the privacy of one of their rooms.

"Ron? Are you going to try some?" He hears Hermione ask.

Her voice startles him, and he fumbles for the remaining spoon on the table, only to have it fly out of his hand before landing on the deck with a loud clatter. Hermione lets out a soft giggle, placing a hand over her mouth to likely hide her grin. The waiter emerges with a clean spoon, and Ron takes it from her with an appreciative, although embarrassed, smile.

After dessert, Ron suggests that they go for a stroll along the beach before he sees Hermione back to her room. They hold hands as they move their bare feet through the sand. Ron finds himself unable to keep his eyes off her, still marveling at how he managed to get so lucky.

Their walk is calming, inviting, and all too soon, they find themselves in front of Hermione's door. The air grows thick as Ron watches Hermione's eyes practically burn a hole through their joined hands, now swaying back and forth.

Before he loses all of his nerve, he lifts his free hand to cup her cheek and bends his head low to place a sweet, gentle kiss on her lips. He has every intention of keeping the kiss chaste and respectable.

When their lips touch, a spark ignites, resuming the passionate frustration they had put on pause earlier that day. Hermione's hands curl around the nape of his neck, sending another shockwave through his body as he realizes that she is kissing him back with just as much enthusiasm.

Ron lets out a low growl and pushes her hips into the back of the door. Her mouth opens wider to allow his tongue entry, and they snog with increased urgency, devouring each other like the full course meal they just shared. Without even fully realizing it, his hands are moving of their own accord down her sides until they reach the hem of her dress. He's disappearing in her lustful fog, fingers itching to continue roaming upwards to explore her smooth skin.

But he didn't want there to be only lust, and he suspects his feelings for Hermione have the potential to run deeper.

Which is exactly why, just moments later, he pulls away just enough to let his forehead press against hers as he steadies his breathing.

"Would you like to come in?" Hermione whispers, and Ron knows his resistance is fading as he gazes into her hopeful eyes.

"I would," Ron groans inwardly, willing himself to find the strength to hold himself together, "but I think I will say goodnight here."

He sees the flash of disappointment cross her eyes, and he's quick to explain. "We have a whole week together, Hermione, and I'd like us to take our time getting to know each other."

Ron reaches out to brush a curl out of her face before leaning down to press his lips to hers one more time. "Until tomorrow?"

She beams at him in such a way that confirms he made the right decision. As he walks back to his room alone, he only has one thought.

He is falling for Hermione Granger.