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

A/N: Happy Sunday, all! This chapter definitely gets off to a steamy start.

Thank you to my awesome beta team as always: be11atrixthestrange, accio-broom, adenei, and sm_jl. They are such a talented group of writers, so definitely check out their works!


Find Me Under the Waterfall

Chapter Six

You


Hermione

Hermione wakes to the sunlight streaming in through the closed drapes, and she squints her eyes to orient herself to her surroundings. A throbbing pain develops beneath her temples, and she remembers her enthusiasm over the rum punch the day before on the boat. She's back in her resort room, thank goodness, but is that…

She takes in a sharp breath as she lowers her chin, discovering a muscular arm curled around her stomach. Judging by the freckles and light hairs peppered along the skin, Hermione works out that it's Ron's arm and a cozy, glorious warmth spreads through her entire body.

Although they have fallen asleep together before, it was on a way-too-small chaise lounge, and they both woke up the next morning in a tangle of limbs like a pretzel.

There is something about waking up in bed together that provides a new level of intimacy. Ron's deep snore filters through her ears, and he nuzzles his nose further into her bushy curls, instinctively meshing their bodies even closer together. He's like Hermione's own comfy body support pillow she has at home, only better.

In her pleasant, drowsy state, Hermione's mind drifts to the idea of love languages, which is a topic that has always interested her. Although she considers her love language to be words of affirmation, cuddling is a language all of its own. For so long, she's longed to have a partner to snuggle up with and wake up next to. With Ron's stomach pressing up against her back as he spoons her, Hermione welcomes the oxytocin pumping through her body — she feels loved, connected, and safe. And if cuddling is a stepping stone to the main event...

Even though Hermione vaguely recalls Ron lying next to her as she fell asleep, they weren't touching, and somehow during the night, he must have shifted positions. With a groan, she also recollects her sloppy attempt to seduce him in her bedroom. Although Ron took it in his stride, she bites her lip thinking about his body attached to hers as he gave her one deep snog before pulling away.

She touches her lips and a ripple of desire runs through her. It is only then that she becomes aware of the prominent bulge pressed against her bum.

Well, good morning.

Her breath quickens, matching her racing heart. Blood rushes to her core, and the wetness pooling within her knickers is a telltale sign of her own arousal. An involuntary moan escapes her lips, and she loses all ability to concentrate on anything else.

Hermione knows that the proper thing to do would be to extract herself from Ron's arms and allow him to continue his peaceful slumber for as long as he needs. However, a larger, saucier part of her craves his reaction. With an arch of her back, she experiments by pushing her bum into his excitement.

In the next moment, Ron's hand leaves her waist and travels upwards to cup her breast. "Don't think I don't realize what you're doing, Miss Granger."

A shiver runs down her spine as Ron's hot breath tickles her ear. Holding her breath, her gaze follows the path of Ron's thumb as it brushes across her perky nipples through the thin cotton of her pyjama shirt, leaving them sensitive to his touch.

Oh, sweet everything.

Hermione has to remind herself to breathe. She rolls her hips into him, creating delicious friction between their bodies while eliciting a groan from Ron. "We woke up like this, you know."

Ron releases a low chuckle into her hair. "I've worked that out, yeah."

"Did you know that cuddling often boosts your immune system, lowers your blood pressure, reduces stress and anxiety—"

"Hermione, you're rambling again."

Her cheeks grow hot, and she burrows her nose into Ron's arm. "I hope I didn't embarrass you too much last night."

"You were having fun, love. That's all that matters." Ron retaliates by sliding his hand underneath the hem of her shirt, his fingertips sparking little goose pimples along her bare stomach.

She's certain she draws blood from biting her lip too hard. "That...doesn't really answer my question."

"Does this?" All at once, she feels his lips pressing against her neck, trailing wet kisses down to her collarbone.

Hermione grinds her bum into his center again. "Hey, you are...trying to…distract me."

"Is it working?" His husky voice questions before nipping her earlobe.

"Oh, honestly." Hermione's stomach growls.

"You must be very hungry this morning, Granger," Ron laughs. Her cheeks grow flushed from his statement that clearly has more than one intended meaning.

Hermione hides her face into her pillow, basking in the glow of their lazy morning. "Ugh. I know it's daylight, but I just can't bring myself to get out of bed yet."

Ron kisses her cheek and lifts the covers to crawl out of bed. Hermione pouts at the immediate loss of his warmth. "I'll tell you what — you stay there, and I'll get started on an experience that I've been eager to try here. For research, of course."

"And what's that?"

Ron waggles his eyebrows. "Room service."


Fifteen minutes later, a cart wheels into their room, and Hermione salivates from the sweet smell of spiced maple syrup. Beneath the silver domes that adorn the cart are plates full of eggs, pancakes, bacon, fresh fruit, and a basket of croissants with various butters and jams, along with a pitcher of orange juice and a pot of fresh coffee.

"Shall we eat on the terrace?" Ron suggests.

They enjoy a relaxing breakfast, and by the time they are finished, Hermione's headache has cleared away.

Deciding they need a low-key day at the resort to recuperate from their adventures the day before, Ron holds Hermione's hand as they walk through the property, taking their time to explore the vibrant nature and plant life that Hermione loves so much.

At one point, they turn down a long pathway, and a small building is visible at the other end. Curious, they move towards the structure, realizing neither has seen what's inside before.

A woman with long, flowing blonde hair waits by the door, and she flashes them a warm smile as they approach.

"Hello, and welcome to the room where relaxation is not only a given but required! My name is Luna, and I hope you two are ready to revitalize your mind and spirit."

Hermione's shoulders relax on instinct as she hears the word revitalize. Ron must see her excitement as he holds the door open for her. "After you."

Walking through the doors, Hermione notices that the spa itself has complimentary access to a sauna, heated whirlpool, and a fitness center.

Luna hands them both a pamphlet. "Here are the massage options we have available. Might I suggest a deep tissue massage? It comes highly recommended from most of our visitors and will surely have you leaving stress-free and physically ready to conquer the day ahead!"

Ron rolls out his shoulders. "That sounds perfect to me."

Luna's silvery eyes brighten. "Wonderful! Now, our couples package involves a private 60-minute massage in one of our tropical gardens, romantic candle lighting, and warm massage oil. How does that sound?"

A flurry of nerves bounce around in Hermione's stomach, and she sputters without thinking, "Are we...a couple?"

Luna's expression morphs into a dazed look of confusion but otherwise remains silent. Hermione turns to Ron, finding him gazing at her in amusement.

"I don't know. Are we?"

The blush creeps up on her cheeks. "I asked you first!"

Ron only chuckles and wraps an arm around her shoulder. "Yes, we'll take the couples package. Isn't that right, dear?"

Hermione nudges his side, still reeling from the heat burning on her cheeks. She knows that Ron is poking fun at her, but she's all giddy inside over his mention of them being a couple.

"Follow me this way, please."

Luna instructs them to change into white robes and leads them back outside towards one of the enclosed, private tropical gardens. The majestic backdrop, as described by Luna, is designed to envelop their senses in the natural botanicals.

They spend a moment picking out their candles — Hermione's is infused with rose oil and lavender, while Ron's gives off pure essential oil scents of sea moss, seagrass, and kelp — and then proceed to lay down on side by side massage tables. Luna and another masseuse drape a white sheet over each of their legs before stepping out of the room to allow them some privacy to take off their robes before settling back under the sheets.

Despite the amusing fact that Hermione is getting a couples massage with a man she just met, it doesn't feel awkward at all. As she rests her cheek on the soft cushion of the table, she meets Ron's gaze, who gives her a brilliant smile in return.

When the masseuses come back, Hermione closes her eyes and lets herself indulge in the stress-releasing experience. It's paradise, and she never wants it to end.

About halfway into the massage, a light snore fills the space, and Hermione blinks her eyes open to find Ron with his eyes closed and mouth slightly open.

"Is he...asleep?" Luna asks.

Hermione releases a muffled laugh into her elbow. "I think he may very well be."


The rest of the afternoon passes by in a blur, and soon Hermione finds herself wearing a plum-colored dress that flows to her knees, adorning a matching flower in her hair given to her by one of the locals on the beach.

They make their way to one of the fanciest restaurants on the property, and it's the only one that requires a formal dress code.

Once seated at a cozy table lit by a single candle, they mutually decide on an appetizer to share — Insalata Caprese, made with slices of fresh mozzarella, tomatoes marinated in olive oil and basil.

Hermione paces herself between bites of the soft cheese, taking her time to savor the meal and the man in front of her.

Their main course arrives, interrupting their staring match. Pollo Parmigiana for Ron, made with breaded chicken, mozzarella, spaghetti, and tomato sauce; and a linguine pasta for Hermione, made with shrimp, gorgonzola cheese, white wine, and fresh chives.

"So we've talked a lot this week about your job, but I haven't heard how you find inspiration for the articles you write." Ron chews on a decently-sized piece of chicken as he initiates the conversation.

Hermione wipes the corner of her mouth with her napkin as she preps her response. "Well, I suppose I try to think about the people. The juiciest posts are the ones where you can make a personal connection — readers want to know that writers are real people with real problems. I've documented heartache, loss, bad days all on my blog and in the articles I write, and often detail how traveling helps me cope with any significant life changes."

"See, I love that. How did you start?"

"It's always helpful for me to think about what topics I'd like to read. Then I usually write out a list of potential topics until inspiration hits. Anything from writing about my first holiday, finding unique neighborhoods local to where I grew up, or detailing the sounds, smells, and sights that take me back to a specific moment in time."

Ron takes a sip of his champagne, but his gaze remains steady on Hermione over the candlelight. "So, what would you write about this trip?"

Hermione considers his question for a moment then smiles. "Well, for sound, I could say that I've never felt more at peace than listening to the waves crashing against the shore. I smell the fresh scent of tropical fruit along with the wheat and steam wafting up from our plates of pasta. And for sight…" She hesitates, knowing what she wants to say, but nervous to show her vulnerability.

"Go on," Ron encourages.

She inhales and speaks on the exhale, finding comfort from the gentle compassion in Ron's eyes. "I see you."

The shift in his now misty gaze speaks volumes, and she is overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for this man. "Out of all the beauty of this entire place, you pick me? I'm flattered."

Although they are conversing at a relatively normal pace, it's the way he is looking at her that makes her forget they are in a crowded restaurant with other people. Clearing her throat, she continues on. "Another piece of advice I got early on was to not aim too high, too quickly. Putting too much pressure on myself takes all the fun out of writing, which is the entire reason why I do it. It's purely a creative outlet for me."

"I can imagine that learning to go with the flow was pretty challenging."

How did he already know her so well?

Hermione bites her lip. "It was very hard. But in the end, I'm much happier for it. This trip has been excellent practice, you know — for going with the flow."

"Cheers to that." They clink their glasses together and enjoy a peaceful moment of leisure silence as they sip on their champagne.

As Hermione sets her glass back on the table, she turns the conversation around. "So, what about you, Mr. Weasley? How did you come to love food blogging?"

Ron leans back in his chair. "Well, it all started with my mum. She taught me how to cook. She always makes the best biscuits, and I've never been able to re-make them the same way without her."

He smiles to himself, and Hermione can tell he is thinking about his family.

"And my mum always makes us this drink that we fondly label 'butterbeer', which is made out of vanilla cream soda and butterscotch, with ground cinnamon sprinkled on top. It's a non-alcoholic option that my siblings and I had growing up that always made us feel more like adults."

Hermione giggles. "She just has that magical touch in the kitchen, huh?"

"She does."

The fact that Ron is so open with her right now only validates everything Hermione is feeling, and all at once, she isn't sure if the buzz she feels is from the champagne or her own desire to get to know Ron's family in person.

"We had this tradition growing up to eat breakfast for dinner," Ron adds. "My mum taught me how to make all of our favorite dishes from scratch. I learned very early on that there is always a story behind what we eat, and to understand who we are, we must first understand where we come from."

"So, what's the story behind what you're eating right now?"

"You."

The speed of his response takes her breath away. It's like he didn't even have to think about it. "Really? Just me?"

"Yeah." Ron shrugs, a blush coloring his cheeks. "Whenever I eat some delicious pasta, I'll always think of you and this moment, and how fucking happy I am right now."

Hermione's heart races in her chest — in a single utterance, he's validating everything she's been feeling this entire holiday.

The air in the room grows thick, and judging by how much time they both are spending staring at each other instead of the plates of food in front of them, Hermione is confident that they are gravitating on the same wavelength.

Ron chews and swallows his final bite of pasta before pushing his plate away. "So then one day, I thought to myself. I always have time to eat. Why not try to make a living off of it? Everyone knows I like to spend money on food."

The waiter arrives back at the table, and they order dessert. In mere minutes, Hermione can see Ron's pupils dilate as a plate of tiramisu with two spoons arrives at their table. The rich, layered sponge cake with strong notes of espresso and cocoa gets devoured quickly.

By the time their final plates are cleared, Ron seems eager to leave, and Hermione willingly follows him down to the beachfront.

"So, in conclusion," Ron finishes just as they dip their toes into the soft sand. "Turning my individual love for food into a collective experience with virtual, and non-virtual, friends is pretty bloody awesome."

Hermione pauses a few paces away from the shore, taking a moment to observe the freckles on Ron's face in the moonlight. "I love that you love what you do, Ron."

Ron trails a trembling hand down her cheek, and Hermione wonders if he is nervous or if he caught a cold chill from the breezy wind. "There's more that connects us than separates us, Granger."

Hermione's eyes flutter closed as Ron leans his head down, their lips meeting in a soft, unhurried kiss.

Ron pulls back just enough to whisper on her lips. "I've been to many places, each unique in its own way. But this place will always be special to me."

"And why is that?"

The corner of his mouth curves up into a shy grin. "It brought me to you."

That is all it takes for Hermione to smash her lips against Ron's once more, giving in to the fiery passion that's been building the entire week between them.

Well aware that their heated snog is likely to draw the attention of passersby, Hermione mumbles without breaking the kiss, "Come back to my room with me."

"With pleasure."