Ron Weasley was sitting in the Gryffindor common room, in the best chair by the fire. He was staring blankly into it, not really seeing it. The flames crackled for hours until they died down into almost nothingness. He was pulled out of his trance by the portrait hole swinging open. In walked a bushy-haired brunette. She had a school bag swung over her shoulder, filled with what could only be books. Shewas alsocarrying a heavy black cloak, that he suspected she had thrown off after she entered the castle.
Ron quickly moved his gaze back to the dying fire. He didn't want her to catch him looking at her, although he looked at her often, he couldn't help it. She was like the light and he the unsuspecting moth, being drawn in by an invisible force.
She sat down in the chair beside him. He noticed that strands of hair were falling out of the haphazard bun upon the top of her head. He wanted to put his hand to her cheek, to brush the loose hair behind her ears, or better yet, pull the bun down completely and run his fingers through it while making love to her,but he didn't dare. If he were to step one toe over the invisible line, he could lose one of his best friends.
She pulled a thick book out of her bag. Ron noticed it read 'Hogwarts, A History" in gold letters across the thick spine. She flipped to a dog-eared page and consumed herself in it.
"Don't tell me you're reading that for the billionth time?" snapped Ron, the words coming out of his mouth ruder than he had meant them to.
"Don't tell me you're skipping out on your homwork for the billionth time?" she spat at him.
Ron sighed. All they did was argue. He hated that they argued all the time, it was as if they weren't truely close at all.
And yet...
Some part of Ron liked the attention. Some part of him craved to have all of her attentionon himself, to be able to look her straight in the eyes,and see thatspecial look used only for him.
She pulled her knees to her chest. The cloak fell to the floor at the back of her chair. Ron stood up, stretching his legs and arms. He looked around the common room. He hadn't noticed how abandoned it was until now, the silence hadn't dawned on his comprehension.
"So, where have you been?" he asked, trying to make conversation.
"The library, obviously." she snapped, obviously still angry at what he'd said. Ron walked around the room, looking anywhere but at her. When he was behind her chair, and safely out of sight, he sat down on the couch. He stared at the back of her head for what seemed like hours.
He noticed her shiver slightly, and got up to get her cloak. He picked the cloak up. He put it to his nose and inhaled. It smelled of strawberries, like she did. He remebered that smell so well, it had been all he had been able to smell at Dumbledore's funeral before his nose closed from crying. The Funeral. He looked back at Hermione, who had her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Hadn't she come to him during the funeral, lying her head on his shoulder, begging nonverbally for comfort. She hadn't went to Harry for comfort. Does that mean she cared for him more that Harry?
Ron shook his head vigorously. There was no need to get his hopes up. He unfolded the cloak and lay it ontop of her. She looked up at him, confusion written on her face.
"You looked cold." he said softly.
"I was." she mimicked his softness.
Ron made his way back to the couch, and threw himself upon it, wishing he had a cloak with him. He looked back at Hermione. To his surprise, she was still watching him. After a moment she placed her book aside. She grabbed the cloak in her right hand, got up, and walked over to the fire. She started a new fire and walked over to the couch.. She sat at Ron's feet.
"You look cold, too." she said, crawling closer to him and throwing the cloak over the two of them. Her head was now resting on his chest, she could hear his hear his heart beat get faster, though unsure of why. She groped under the covers for his hand, and upon finding it nestled her fingers between his. She reached with her other hand and pulled her hair down, putting the hairpiece she had taken out on her wrist. She looked up at Ron. He had a look of both shock and satisfaction on his freckled face.
He looked into her eyes, and she looked into his. There was a connection there. Each longed for the other, but would not dare say it aloud. They looked into each others eyes as the minutes ticked by. Ron broke the connection. He turned his head to the fire, his ears a bright pink. He hadn't expected this. He turned back to face her, and was shocked to see that she was crying.
"Hermione, what-" he looked around for the source of her tears, and then came to only one conclusion. He must've done something. "What'd I do?"
She shook her head as a reply. She looked into the fire.
"You can tell me Hermione, we're friends aren't we?"
For some reason the tears fell faster from her eyes. He grabbed her around middle back and pulled her into a hug.
"Hermione, you have to tell me-oh wait-I-I-I-" he stammered, figuring out why it was she has crying.
She didn't take her gaze off of the fire.
"You make me feel like fire, you know." she said in a barely audible whisper.
"What-er-what do you mean?"
Ron looked back at the fire. He made her feel like fire, eh? While he was trying to contemplate whether this was a good thing or a bad thing something happened that he never thought would have. Hermione's lips pressed against his. He did not retaliate. He was too shocked to do anything. He only did one thing, and that was unvoluntary. He now knew what Harry meant by his first kiss being wet, in more ways than one.
Hermione pulled back. Silent tears were still streaming down her face. She looked as if she were sorry, as if she were afraid of what he might do. Ron leaned back up to her, kissing her with fiery passion. He grabbed her waist and pulled her as close as possible to himself. She gasped slightly upon this, more out of shock of what she found out than anything else. She put her arms around his neck, playing with the ends of his ginger hair. He took one hand from her waist, still holding her close with the other. He rubbed his free hand on her cheek. He then moved his hand downward, across her neck and down to her belly, until he finally found the end of her shirt. He slid his hand up the shirt, groping around for her breasts. To his surprise she did not object. He got ahold of one and rubbed it gently. She moaned slightly. He took that hand off of her breast and went back to her waist. He put a hand on each of her legs and spread them apart, so that she was now stradling him.
They broke apart, both gasping for breath. She leaned up and began nibbling affectionally on his right ear. He tilted her head to the side a bit, freeing an area for him to kiss her neck. She moaned with pleasure, and tilted her head back against the couch. He took the chance and flipped them both, getting himself on top.
His hands began roaming again. They went everywhere, and not once did she object. He lowered his lips to hers, and they kissed wildly. Their tongues kept fighting for control.
He slid her shirt above her head, revealing a plain black bra.He pulled one of the straps off of her shoulder and began kissing there. She giggled.
She unbutoned his shirt quickly, revealing a muscular chest which must have been the result of playing Quidditch, she wouldn't know, for she had never seen Viktor shirtless.
Ron unbuttoned and unzip her jeans, kissing her bellybutton while doing so. He slipped the jeans past her ankles and threw them aside.
He then stripped to nothing leaving them both in nothing but their undergarments. He undid her bra and felt her breasts with his hands. He then placed a hand over her heart. Her heart was beating very fast, out of what could only be excitement. He pressed his body against hers. They both moaned as their chests touched. Ron had been about to pull her black panties off when he heard a door being clicked shut.
He stopped. He looked around anxiously, hoping it was just his imagination, but he knew they had been seen. He quickly searched for his clothes. He pulled them on quickly and Hermione did the same. He handed her her book, bag and cloak, kissed her one last time, and dissapeared up the boy's staircase, his heart beating fast. He entered his room to find Neville, Seamus, and Dean snoring. Harry, on the other hand was sitting on his bed reading Quidditch Through The Ages, with a slight smirk on his face.
"Have a-er-happy time?"
"Shut-Up Harry!" said Ron, changing his clothes hidden from view behind his bed and the darkness surrounding it.
"Don't let me stop you two, go back down there if you wish.."
"She went to bed."
"Ah."
"What?"
"Nothing. I just thought you would have probably brought her up here with you, or else have taken her to the Room of Requirements. You two were pretty-er-into it all when I went down there.." he said with a smirk.
Ron rolled his eyes and got into bed, the last moments with Hermione flashing through his head like a movie. He grinned against his pillow as he fell asleep.