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CHAPTER VIII: RON AND HERMIONE
Ron trudged up the stairs to his bedroom, with Harry's comments still fresh in his mind. "I would never hurt Hermione," Ron firmly told himself as he reached his final destination and pushed open the door. Hermione was just coming out of the bathroom, wearing a towel wrapped around her head, and a flannel blue nightgown, which clung to her wet body, revealing once again how beautiful she was. She gave a small smile, before unraveling the towel, letting her hair fall before her eyes, and then rubbing it vigorously.
"Is that how you usually dry your hair?" he chuckled as she pushed away her hair.
"I just thought I should show you first-hand how it's done," she smirked before sitting down on her bed. "You can take a shower if you want," she continued, gesturing to the open bathroom door.
Ron was exhausted, since Quidditch had been exhilarating and tolerating Harry's speech was difficult enough, so he nodded his head, grabbed a towel and headed for a long hot shower.
"Boys," she muttered, shaking her head, and commencing to put her hair into a bun, which she thought would help her hair stay silky and straight. Once she was done, she started to clean up their room, well Ron's messy side anyway. She had just finished, straightening his bed, when Ron stuck his head out the bathroom.
"Hermione," he said tentatively.
"Hmm," she replied, not glancing up from the pile of clothes she was tidying up.
"Can you pass me my white shirt?"
"Which one?" she answered, continuing to fold his shirts.
"The one I wear, before I fall asleep," he remarked rather impatiently, as he rubbed the back of his neck, where droplets of water were forming.
Hermione looked up and asked, "Why didn't you take it with you?"
He rolled his eyes at her. "Geez, Hermione, I forgot. Give the man a break, will you?"
She clicked her tongue in disgust, as she moved aside the huge mound of clothing, in search of his white shirt. It was nowhere to be seen, but when she glanced down at the foot of his bed, she found it tucked away behind a pair of pajamas.
"Is this it?" she questioned, holding it up for him to see.
"Yea, give it here," he commanded in a sharp tone, motioning with his hand for it.
"How dare he order me around like that?" Hermione thought furiously to himself. Suddenly, an idea crossed her mind. "Let's tease him a little," she thought gleefully.
"Why?" she drawled idly as she twirled the shirt around in circles.
"`Mione, I don't have time for games. I'm going to get sick," Ron, whined from the doorway.
"You want it?" she taunted, her eyes twinkling mischievously. He nodded his head, while tapping his foot edgily.
"Well, if you want it," she paused and played with the shirt a little. "If you want it, then come and get it," she finished before darting out the door.
"Damn," Ron cursed flinging open the bathroom door and running after her.
"Hermione Your-Parents-Ran-Out-of-Middle-Names Granger you come back here right this instant," Ron yelled, while clutching tightly to the towel wrapped around his waist.
"Why?" she called, continuing to run, jumping down the stairs and entering the commons room. Cursing under his breath, he followed her into the room, which was completely deserted.
She was standing behind the giant sofa; her face red and streaked with sweat, while her nicely made hair bun was carelessly falling out of place. She was rather breathless as she was heaving deep breaths, but catching sight of him without a shirt on, revealing his chest, caused her heart to stop a beat as she admired his strong muscles and amazing body.
Ron chuckled to himself, taking this opportunity to approach her confidently. "See anything you like?" he taunted, once he was face-to-face with her.
Hermione caught a hold of herself before remarking casually, "Should I?"
Ron pretended a look of hurt. "What? I'm hurt, Hermione. Really, I am," he stated, while wiping away a fake tear.
"Oh please," she rolled her eyes at him as she rolled up her sleeves.
He groaned inwardly as the hall clock chimed midnight. "Look," he started, "We could get in serious trouble if we were caught here like this, especially since it's late at night," he finished. She raised her eyebrows at him, causing him to squirm under her stern gaze, so he added sheepishly, "and since we're not dressed appropriately.
"When did you become so keen on rules, Ronald Arthur Weasley," she teased, smirking at him.
"Ever since I became Head Boy," Ron declared proudly. "So if you don't mind," he continued decisively, "can I please have my shirt back?"
"But you have so many other shirts to wear?" Hermione questioned innocently, while batting her eyelashes at him flirtatiously. "Whoa," she said to herself, startled. "Why on earth did I do that?"
"For your information, this shirt happens to be the most comfortable one, so I sleep in it," Ron retorted harshly. "And the jokes over," he finished a little more politely.
"Well excuse me for having a little fun," she remarked coolly. "But I still won't give you the shirt," she added grinning.
"Hermione," Ron hissed through his teeth, clenching and unclenching his fists. "Give me back my shirt, before a teacher comes down and sees us like this," he ordered severely.
Hermione seemed to be giving in, because she was extending her arm, which held the shirt. She spoke slowly, "Well…oh hello Professor McGonagall!"
Stunned, Ron whipped his head around, giving her the opportunity to tear past him and head for the staircase. There wasn't anyone there. "Hermione," Ron groaned, pulling at his hair. "Bye," she called, as she ran up the stairs. She knew he was coming after her at full speed, so she took the stairs two at a time. She desperately needed a break, but she knew that if she stopped, the consequences would be dire. After all, the Weasley clan was well known for their fury and temper.
Occasionally, she turned her head to see if he was following her, but she never caught a glimpse of him. Finally, she reached her room. She opened the door cautiously and peeked inside warily, in search for someone to attack her any minute. The room was dim, save for the fire, which was glowing in the fireplace and the moonlight streaming through the window. Sighing with relief, she threw open the door and stepped inside, just in time for a stranger to wrap their arms around her waist and throw her onto the bed.
"Ron," she shrieked, her heart pounding against her chest, as he fell on top of her.
"Aha, caught you didn't I?" Ron's eyes sparkled in the dim light.
"How did you come here before me?" Hermione inquired anxiously, struggling against the weight of his body on her.
"Well, having Fred and George as brothers does come in handy sometimes," Ron remarked, as he removed the wisps of hair hiding her exhausted face.
She nodded her head in agreement, as she rather guiltily handed him his shirt. "You can have it back now," she whispered, lifting her gaze from his face.
He shook his head as he threw it aside. "Forget it," he commented. She looked at him in confusion. "It's much better like this," he finished.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh really," she mocked, as she trailed her fingers across his chest, causing his body to shiver in anticipation.
"Yea," he mumbled as he brought his lips onto her neck and trailed kisses all over her. He felt her stiffen at his approach, but he confidently reached down to her petite hand and interlaced his fingers with her own, as he caught her lips with his.
"Ron," Hermione murmured, her breath warm against his lips.
"Hmm," he responded reluctantly, as he broke away from her.
"You do realize you're not wearing anything?" she questioned wrapping an arm around his neck.
"Is that a problem?" he answered wickedly.
"Do you want it to be?" was the quick reply.
"Do you want it to be a problem, Hermione?" he asked softly as he ran his fingers across her jaw line.
She smiled at him then, a smile so unlike the previous ones as she spoke, "No," and with that, she grabbed a hold of the knot that bound the towel around him and gave it a good yank. She gasped as the towel fell to the floor, revealing his entire body. Ron grinned at her surprise, and took the opportunity to pull her hair out of its tight bun and run his fingers through her wavy hair.
She croaked, "Ron, I," but he silenced her, by placing his finger on her lips, as he slowly started to unbutton her nightgown. She lifted her body, so he could slide it down her, and once they were without any clothing, Ron truly realized how beautiful she really was.
"Hermione, you're gorgeous," he croaked, as he planted kisses on each shoulder.
"You're not bad yourself, Ron," she teased as she ran her fingers across his chest. They were so close together that Ron could smell what shampoo she had used. She moaned softly, as he tilted her head back and gently kissed her eyes, her nose, her mouth, her neck, her shoulders, her stomach, and as he descended down a sudden thought crossed her mind.
"`Mione," he asked lifting his head so he could look directly into her eyes.
"Yes," she whispered, locking her eyes with his.
"Do you want to?"
She remained silent for a moment, before turning her head away from him and answering. "I don't know."
He decided to rephrase the question, "Are you ready for it?"
"Yes," came the feeble reply.
"Hey," Ron started, tilting her head up from the chin and gazing into her eyes, which were starting to fill up with water. "I won't do it if you think I'll hurt you."
"I know you won't," she answered, her voice quavering slightly. "It's just that I'm afraid," she finished nervously.
Ron gave her a gentle smile. "I'm afraid too, but the only reason I'm doing this is out of my love for you."
"I know," she replied, avoiding his gaze.
"So," Ron continued, touching her cheek with the back of his hand. "Are you okay with it?"
Hermione was quiet for a moment, before nodding her head firmly. (A/N: I'm not very good at writing these scenes, since I only have books for reference and I didn't want my story's rating to change. So, if you want to create your own imaginative view of what happened between them, then that's your choice).
~*~*~*~*~
Hermione laid her head against Ron's chest and snuggled closer to him. He leaned against the bedstead and idly began playing with her hair.
"Tired," she inquired, glancing up at his serene face.
"Exhausted," he replied, smiling at her.
"You okay?" he questioned anxiously, remembering the look of pain that crossed her face.
She nodded her head as he slipped an arm around her, pulling her even closer to him.
"Are you sure?" he insisted.
"Ron, I'm fine," she answered. "Seriously," she added quickly, glimpsing at the doubtful expression on his face.
"But I saw the hurt look on your face, `Mione," Ron protested.
"Ron, relax! It always hurts the first time," Hermione explained logically to him, as if he had just failed to understand Professor Snape's attitude problem.
He gave in rather reluctantly, as she pulled the covers over them. An hour had passed since their little game, and Ron needed his beauty sleep if he wanted to play Quidditch in the morning. But, he needed to ask Hermione something.
"`Mione, was I okay?" he questioned uncertainly.
She heaved a sigh as she trailed little figures of eight across his upper body. "No Ron, you weren't okay," she began leisurely. His face fell, but she looked up at him and added, "You were wonderful."
His face split into a grin, and planted a kiss on her forehead. Finally, he could get some rest. Hermione, however, wasn't finished yet.
"Ron, can I ask you something?"
"Sure," he responded, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the pillow.
"Was I alright for you?" she asked anxiously.
His eyes fluttered open at the sudden statement and stared at her in disbelief. How could the great Hermione Granger worry about a thing like that?
"No `Mione you weren't all right," he sadly remarked, and chuckled as her face fell.
"You were heaven for me," he teased, his eyes sparkling.
"Ron," Hermione exclaimed, raising her arm as if to whack him playfully, but he intercepted in midair and twisted her arm so he could glance at her watch. It blinked 1:15.
"We'd better get some rest or Harry would get suspicious of why we woke up late in the morning," Ron commented.
"Should we tell him?" Hermione questioned innocently.
"Not yet. We'll tell him when the time's right. Besides I don't want him to freak out on me."
"Okay." She closed her eyes as she stifled another yawn.
"Good night Ron."
"Night Herms."
A few hours later, Hermione woke up with a start. Something had moved besides her causing her to wake up. She turned over and came face-to-face with Ron, fully dressed, lying against her, his head propped up on his elbows, his eyes intent upon her.
"What are you doing up before me?" she inquired, glancing at her watch, which read 7:15.
"Can't I wake up before you?" Ron answered, giving her a kiss on the forehead.
"How long have you been awake?" she asked groggily.
"About an hour," he replied as he got up and handed her nightgown to her.
"Thanks, but what did you do while I was asleep?" she queried as she slipped the nightdress around her body.
"Watched you sleep."
She raised her eyebrows at him. "Liked what you saw?"
He grinned. "Loved every minute of it," and started to make his bed, while Hermione went to change.
"Ron," she began once she came out of the bathroom, fully dressed.
"Hmm," he mumbled as he handed her book bag to her.
She accepted it and while they climbed down the stairs she continued, "Do you regret last night?"
He turned at her in amazement and asked, "Why would you think that?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know…maybe you would have like to have done it with someone else."
He was quiet for a while before running a finger across her cheek. "You're the only girl I would have liked to have done it with," he whispered softly.
She smiled at him as he firmly grasped her hand and led her down to the common room.
"Do you think they'll suspect anything?" she murmured.
"I doubt it."
They entered the room expecting everyone to be in their usual spirits. Instead, they were greeted with Harry and Ginny's somber faces. Hermione rushed over to them, dragging Ron behind her. "What is it Harry?" she urged.
Harry replied hoarsely, "Dumbledore's called for an emergency meeting with the students." He gulped, as Ginny tightly squeezed his hand. "I think Voldemort has attacked."
***
CHAPTER VIII: RON AND HERMIONE
Ron trudged up the stairs to his bedroom, with Harry's comments still fresh in his mind. "I would never hurt Hermione," Ron firmly told himself as he reached his final destination and pushed open the door. Hermione was just coming out of the bathroom, wearing a towel wrapped around her head, and a flannel blue nightgown, which clung to her wet body, revealing once again how beautiful she was. She gave a small smile, before unraveling the towel, letting her hair fall before her eyes, and then rubbing it vigorously.
"Is that how you usually dry your hair?" he chuckled as she pushed away her hair.
"I just thought I should show you first-hand how it's done," she smirked before sitting down on her bed. "You can take a shower if you want," she continued, gesturing to the open bathroom door.
Ron was exhausted, since Quidditch had been exhilarating and tolerating Harry's speech was difficult enough, so he nodded his head, grabbed a towel and headed for a long hot shower.
"Boys," she muttered, shaking her head, and commencing to put her hair into a bun, which she thought would help her hair stay silky and straight. Once she was done, she started to clean up their room, well Ron's messy side anyway. She had just finished, straightening his bed, when Ron stuck his head out the bathroom.
"Hermione," he said tentatively.
"Hmm," she replied, not glancing up from the pile of clothes she was tidying up.
"Can you pass me my white shirt?"
"Which one?" she answered, continuing to fold his shirts.
"The one I wear, before I fall asleep," he remarked rather impatiently, as he rubbed the back of his neck, where droplets of water were forming.
Hermione looked up and asked, "Why didn't you take it with you?"
He rolled his eyes at her. "Geez, Hermione, I forgot. Give the man a break, will you?"
She clicked her tongue in disgust, as she moved aside the huge mound of clothing, in search of his white shirt. It was nowhere to be seen, but when she glanced down at the foot of his bed, she found it tucked away behind a pair of pajamas.
"Is this it?" she questioned, holding it up for him to see.
"Yea, give it here," he commanded in a sharp tone, motioning with his hand for it.
"How dare he order me around like that?" Hermione thought furiously to himself. Suddenly, an idea crossed her mind. "Let's tease him a little," she thought gleefully.
"Why?" she drawled idly as she twirled the shirt around in circles.
"`Mione, I don't have time for games. I'm going to get sick," Ron, whined from the doorway.
"You want it?" she taunted, her eyes twinkling mischievously. He nodded his head, while tapping his foot edgily.
"Well, if you want it," she paused and played with the shirt a little. "If you want it, then come and get it," she finished before darting out the door.
"Damn," Ron cursed flinging open the bathroom door and running after her.
"Hermione Your-Parents-Ran-Out-of-Middle-Names Granger you come back here right this instant," Ron yelled, while clutching tightly to the towel wrapped around his waist.
"Why?" she called, continuing to run, jumping down the stairs and entering the commons room. Cursing under his breath, he followed her into the room, which was completely deserted.
She was standing behind the giant sofa; her face red and streaked with sweat, while her nicely made hair bun was carelessly falling out of place. She was rather breathless as she was heaving deep breaths, but catching sight of him without a shirt on, revealing his chest, caused her heart to stop a beat as she admired his strong muscles and amazing body.
Ron chuckled to himself, taking this opportunity to approach her confidently. "See anything you like?" he taunted, once he was face-to-face with her.
Hermione caught a hold of herself before remarking casually, "Should I?"
Ron pretended a look of hurt. "What? I'm hurt, Hermione. Really, I am," he stated, while wiping away a fake tear.
"Oh please," she rolled her eyes at him as she rolled up her sleeves.
He groaned inwardly as the hall clock chimed midnight. "Look," he started, "We could get in serious trouble if we were caught here like this, especially since it's late at night," he finished. She raised her eyebrows at him, causing him to squirm under her stern gaze, so he added sheepishly, "and since we're not dressed appropriately.
"When did you become so keen on rules, Ronald Arthur Weasley," she teased, smirking at him.
"Ever since I became Head Boy," Ron declared proudly. "So if you don't mind," he continued decisively, "can I please have my shirt back?"
"But you have so many other shirts to wear?" Hermione questioned innocently, while batting her eyelashes at him flirtatiously. "Whoa," she said to herself, startled. "Why on earth did I do that?"
"For your information, this shirt happens to be the most comfortable one, so I sleep in it," Ron retorted harshly. "And the jokes over," he finished a little more politely.
"Well excuse me for having a little fun," she remarked coolly. "But I still won't give you the shirt," she added grinning.
"Hermione," Ron hissed through his teeth, clenching and unclenching his fists. "Give me back my shirt, before a teacher comes down and sees us like this," he ordered severely.
Hermione seemed to be giving in, because she was extending her arm, which held the shirt. She spoke slowly, "Well…oh hello Professor McGonagall!"
Stunned, Ron whipped his head around, giving her the opportunity to tear past him and head for the staircase. There wasn't anyone there. "Hermione," Ron groaned, pulling at his hair. "Bye," she called, as she ran up the stairs. She knew he was coming after her at full speed, so she took the stairs two at a time. She desperately needed a break, but she knew that if she stopped, the consequences would be dire. After all, the Weasley clan was well known for their fury and temper.
Occasionally, she turned her head to see if he was following her, but she never caught a glimpse of him. Finally, she reached her room. She opened the door cautiously and peeked inside warily, in search for someone to attack her any minute. The room was dim, save for the fire, which was glowing in the fireplace and the moonlight streaming through the window. Sighing with relief, she threw open the door and stepped inside, just in time for a stranger to wrap their arms around her waist and throw her onto the bed.
"Ron," she shrieked, her heart pounding against her chest, as he fell on top of her.
"Aha, caught you didn't I?" Ron's eyes sparkled in the dim light.
"How did you come here before me?" Hermione inquired anxiously, struggling against the weight of his body on her.
"Well, having Fred and George as brothers does come in handy sometimes," Ron remarked, as he removed the wisps of hair hiding her exhausted face.
She nodded her head in agreement, as she rather guiltily handed him his shirt. "You can have it back now," she whispered, lifting her gaze from his face.
He shook his head as he threw it aside. "Forget it," he commented. She looked at him in confusion. "It's much better like this," he finished.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh really," she mocked, as she trailed her fingers across his chest, causing his body to shiver in anticipation.
"Yea," he mumbled as he brought his lips onto her neck and trailed kisses all over her. He felt her stiffen at his approach, but he confidently reached down to her petite hand and interlaced his fingers with her own, as he caught her lips with his.
"Ron," Hermione murmured, her breath warm against his lips.
"Hmm," he responded reluctantly, as he broke away from her.
"You do realize you're not wearing anything?" she questioned wrapping an arm around his neck.
"Is that a problem?" he answered wickedly.
"Do you want it to be?" was the quick reply.
"Do you want it to be a problem, Hermione?" he asked softly as he ran his fingers across her jaw line.
She smiled at him then, a smile so unlike the previous ones as she spoke, "No," and with that, she grabbed a hold of the knot that bound the towel around him and gave it a good yank. She gasped as the towel fell to the floor, revealing his entire body. Ron grinned at her surprise, and took the opportunity to pull her hair out of its tight bun and run his fingers through her wavy hair.
She croaked, "Ron, I," but he silenced her, by placing his finger on her lips, as he slowly started to unbutton her nightgown. She lifted her body, so he could slide it down her, and once they were without any clothing, Ron truly realized how beautiful she really was.
"Hermione, you're gorgeous," he croaked, as he planted kisses on each shoulder.
"You're not bad yourself, Ron," she teased as she ran her fingers across his chest. They were so close together that Ron could smell what shampoo she had used. She moaned softly, as he tilted her head back and gently kissed her eyes, her nose, her mouth, her neck, her shoulders, her stomach, and as he descended down a sudden thought crossed her mind.
"`Mione," he asked lifting his head so he could look directly into her eyes.
"Yes," she whispered, locking her eyes with his.
"Do you want to?"
She remained silent for a moment, before turning her head away from him and answering. "I don't know."
He decided to rephrase the question, "Are you ready for it?"
"Yes," came the feeble reply.
"Hey," Ron started, tilting her head up from the chin and gazing into her eyes, which were starting to fill up with water. "I won't do it if you think I'll hurt you."
"I know you won't," she answered, her voice quavering slightly. "It's just that I'm afraid," she finished nervously.
Ron gave her a gentle smile. "I'm afraid too, but the only reason I'm doing this is out of my love for you."
"I know," she replied, avoiding his gaze.
"So," Ron continued, touching her cheek with the back of his hand. "Are you okay with it?"
Hermione was quiet for a moment, before nodding her head firmly. (A/N: I'm not very good at writing these scenes, since I only have books for reference and I didn't want my story's rating to change. So, if you want to create your own imaginative view of what happened between them, then that's your choice).
~*~*~*~*~
Hermione laid her head against Ron's chest and snuggled closer to him. He leaned against the bedstead and idly began playing with her hair.
"Tired," she inquired, glancing up at his serene face.
"Exhausted," he replied, smiling at her.
"You okay?" he questioned anxiously, remembering the look of pain that crossed her face.
She nodded her head as he slipped an arm around her, pulling her even closer to him.
"Are you sure?" he insisted.
"Ron, I'm fine," she answered. "Seriously," she added quickly, glimpsing at the doubtful expression on his face.
"But I saw the hurt look on your face, `Mione," Ron protested.
"Ron, relax! It always hurts the first time," Hermione explained logically to him, as if he had just failed to understand Professor Snape's attitude problem.
He gave in rather reluctantly, as she pulled the covers over them. An hour had passed since their little game, and Ron needed his beauty sleep if he wanted to play Quidditch in the morning. But, he needed to ask Hermione something.
"`Mione, was I okay?" he questioned uncertainly.
She heaved a sigh as she trailed little figures of eight across his upper body. "No Ron, you weren't okay," she began leisurely. His face fell, but she looked up at him and added, "You were wonderful."
His face split into a grin, and planted a kiss on her forehead. Finally, he could get some rest. Hermione, however, wasn't finished yet.
"Ron, can I ask you something?"
"Sure," he responded, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the pillow.
"Was I alright for you?" she asked anxiously.
His eyes fluttered open at the sudden statement and stared at her in disbelief. How could the great Hermione Granger worry about a thing like that?
"No `Mione you weren't all right," he sadly remarked, and chuckled as her face fell.
"You were heaven for me," he teased, his eyes sparkling.
"Ron," Hermione exclaimed, raising her arm as if to whack him playfully, but he intercepted in midair and twisted her arm so he could glance at her watch. It blinked 1:15.
"We'd better get some rest or Harry would get suspicious of why we woke up late in the morning," Ron commented.
"Should we tell him?" Hermione questioned innocently.
"Not yet. We'll tell him when the time's right. Besides I don't want him to freak out on me."
"Okay." She closed her eyes as she stifled another yawn.
"Good night Ron."
"Night Herms."
A few hours later, Hermione woke up with a start. Something had moved besides her causing her to wake up. She turned over and came face-to-face with Ron, fully dressed, lying against her, his head propped up on his elbows, his eyes intent upon her.
"What are you doing up before me?" she inquired, glancing at her watch, which read 7:15.
"Can't I wake up before you?" Ron answered, giving her a kiss on the forehead.
"How long have you been awake?" she asked groggily.
"About an hour," he replied as he got up and handed her nightgown to her.
"Thanks, but what did you do while I was asleep?" she queried as she slipped the nightdress around her body.
"Watched you sleep."
She raised her eyebrows at him. "Liked what you saw?"
He grinned. "Loved every minute of it," and started to make his bed, while Hermione went to change.
"Ron," she began once she came out of the bathroom, fully dressed.
"Hmm," he mumbled as he handed her book bag to her.
She accepted it and while they climbed down the stairs she continued, "Do you regret last night?"
He turned at her in amazement and asked, "Why would you think that?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know…maybe you would have like to have done it with someone else."
He was quiet for a while before running a finger across her cheek. "You're the only girl I would have liked to have done it with," he whispered softly.
She smiled at him as he firmly grasped her hand and led her down to the common room.
"Do you think they'll suspect anything?" she murmured.
"I doubt it."
They entered the room expecting everyone to be in their usual spirits. Instead, they were greeted with Harry and Ginny's somber faces. Hermione rushed over to them, dragging Ron behind her. "What is it Harry?" she urged.
Harry replied hoarsely, "Dumbledore's called for an emergency meeting with the students." He gulped, as Ginny tightly squeezed his hand. "I think Voldemort has attacked."
***