Disclaimer: Obviously these are not my characters. This whole universe belongs to J.K. Rawlings. And sadly Ron does not really exist.

Who could've known? Who'd even think?" These thoughts ran through her head as she laid waiting. "We've talked about, this we're ready. We've spent enough time figuring out if this was really what we want. We're ready, I know we are." Her soft, wavy hair fell across her subtle breasts.

After months of stealing kisses in the Library, and sneaking down to the lake just so they could hold each other's hands, this was more than either had thought possible. Tonight was it.

Just then a soft knock sounded on the door to her private room. Not waiting for permission, the visitor entered. Clad in school robes and a surprisingly confident expression, the red head moved to the naked figure shaking on the four-poster bed.

"Are you sure this is what you want? I don't want you to feel like I'm pushing you. I can wait until you truly are ready," The words were spoken with so much love and care that most doubts and fears left the nervous girl.

"No, I am scared, but I want to do this, I want to show you how much I trust you, and... and love you." The last bit was said in a rush; as though she were afraid it wouldn't be true once she said it.

A smile spread across the face of her lover. Taking the girl's face gently, plush lips press together and a murmured, "I love you so much," mingled with the whisper of school robes hitting the cold stone floor of Hogwart's castle.

It all started the summer before Hermione's last year at school. Her parents had a convention in Rome and wanted to use the time as a kind of second honeymoon. Unaware that there had been problems between Ron and Hermione, they happily sent her to the Burrow to spend the remaining summer with one of her best friends.

She and Ron had had a very strained 6th year at Hogwarts. She knew she had hurt him by keeping her relationship with Harry a secret, but she just couldn't swallow her pride enough to apologize. Besides it wasn't as though Ron was ever around to apologize to anyway. He was never in the Gryffindor common room and Harry said that he wouldn't even look at him in their room.

That was just the beginning of the end for the trio. After the Yule Ball, Harry and Hermione's relationship seemed to have lost all of its passion. They knew they were miserable, they missed Ron, but neither could face him to make it right. Soon Harry and she just stopped talking.

The summer was miserable. Ron obviously hadn't talked to his family about his friendships. They were forced to act like everything was normal. She'd tried once to talk to him in the garden, but he made it very clear that he had nothing to say.

Hermione was soon finding comfort in another one of his family. They spent the entire time she was there with them. Whenever she and Ron had to be in the same room, they made it bearable, they distracted his family so that no one knew how much Ron loathed Hermione.

The there was the day when everything changed again. They had been swimming in a lake close to the Burrow. It was just the two of them, lying there in the hot sun, talking about the stupid things of life, things that would seem meaningless in a few minutes.

If anyone asks either of them, they'd tell you it was the other who made the first move, in truth, they moved together. Sun browned hands slipped together. Their lips met in a kiss that both shocked and aroused them. Sadly on this day it was the shock that won out. They knew the family wouldn't be happy with this. The backed away as fast as they could.

Neither talked about their feelings. They tried to act as though nothing was happening between them. Back to their buddy-buddy days when everything was just hunky-dory. That is until the day at Hogwarts. It was in the Library, a place where one was almost guaranteed to find Hermione. This Weasley slipped in looking for their friend, just to see her, to sneak a whiff of her hair and maybe brush her hand.

They walked in and spied her sitting with her nose buried in her charms textbook. Little did they know, she had buried it there to prevent anyone from seeing the red-flushed face that had developed from her thoughts of this particular Weasley. She had been thinking of what it would feel like to kiss them again, to hold them, to have them touch her, to touch the spot that ached so badly for that touch. She had tried herself, but there was more. She wanted to loose herself in the soft gentle kisses of a lover; she wanted to feel someone inside of her. She remembered Harry's fumbling caresses. She knew this lover wouldn't fumble with her breasts until it became more of an annoyance than a pleasure. She knew they would listen to what she wanted; part of her wondered if they already knew what she wanted.

These were the thoughts that were running through her head as the object of her lust walked in a sat down beside her. Again, who moved first neither is sure of, but a hand on the thigh was soon followed by a sweet gentle kiss on the mouth. The look that passed between them said more than a thousand words. It was at that moment that they both knew that even if they had to keep it a secret, it was worth it, just so they could be together.

They snuck around; it was nice that the school already viewed them as friends. No one ever knew what they were doing. Hermione knew some places to snog; she and Harry had explored most of the Castle for this purpose. But that was all they did. Neither could bring themselves to go further. Both wondered if the other was backing out. It was hard not being able to hold your lover's hand.

One night as they lay tight in each other's arms Hermione, the more vocal of the two, ask, "Do you regret us?"

"No Love, you're amazing!"

"I guess, it's just that with Harry," she felt the shutter of pain run through her lover at his name. Hermione knew that they didn't want to think about the time she had spent with Harry, but this was important. "He always wanted more. He was always ready. I usually had to slow him down if I wanted to enjoy any of it."

Carefully slipping out of their lover's arms, they went to stand in front of the window. It was a cold crisp night. The winter moon shown bright against the white snow. Resting their red head against the casement, they shivered in spite of the warming spell cast on the room. They stood there as thin white arms wrapped around their waist, and a face with delicate features peered over their shoulder hoping to see some sign of just what she was going to have to do to make it right again.

What she saw made her heart stop. Tears were glistening in the light of the moon. Two streams rolled down the creamy freckled skin. Turning her lover around, she gently stroked the silky strands of red.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, I just want to know that you are happy, even if we're the only one who know about us."

"No, it's not that, I just didn't think you'd be ready to move beyond this. I hate thinking of you with him. He never deserved you." Bringing a gentle hand to her face, Hermione was kissed with a new passion. "I've wanted to make love to you since long before last summer. I want it to be special I never want you to feel like you have to do this to make me happy. I'm happy with the little time I get with you."

Hermione shuttered with excitement and with fear, she'd wanted this, but never could work up the courage to ask for it. "I want more," This hushed statement was met with a smile and a childlike look. Hermoine turned and took her wand, beginning to prepare the room. Before she could utter the spell, a hand pushed her wand down.

"No, not here. I want this to be amazing, I don't want us to have to worry about anyone walking in on us or even worry about having to leave each other. It's almost Christmas break. Let's wait until then. We can use your room; I'll even stay the whole night."

So they planned it, midnight in Hermione's prefect room. Hermione lay there as her breasts were uncovered from her long hair, a hand delicately cupped breast and a thumb began to move slowly across that nipple. With a smile on their lips they moved from her lips to the round red areolas.