Chapter 31

"Mione," Ron sighed, as he settled down on the blanket beside her and felt her hand tangle in his hair.

"Huuummn?" she groaned a split second before her lips found their way to his neck.

"In case I don't get to tell you later, what with Harry here and all," he said, relaxing against her body. "I love you."

"I know," Hermione whispered, her mouth right below his ear now. "Now shut up and show me."

With pleasure, Ron thought, closing his eyes and relishing the sensation her hand made as it slipped under his shirt and tenderly explored his upper body. He could actually feel the heat from her fingers as she lightly ran them over his chest, before dropping them lower, and gliding them down his stomach. Then without warning, her pleasurable fingers abandoned his flesh and her warm body pulled away from his.

Shit! Ron cursed, as he opened his eyes to see why she had deserted him "All right, love?" he asked, relieved when he noted the desire burning in her bright brown eyes.

Rather then respond, Hermione kicked off her shoes, then reached for her jumper, grasped the bottom if it, and yanked it off over her head. "Well," she said, laying back down beside him and propping herself up on her elbow so she could stare at him. "You aren't going to sleep in your shoes are you?" she asked with a mischievous smile.

"No, I suppose not," he chuckled, using his toes to flip them off. "Anything else you'd like me to remove?" Ron asked with a smirk.

"I'll leave that up to you," Hermione replied, pushing him onto his back, before settling on top of him, and covering his mouth with her own.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small, annoying voice kept trying to tell him that they shouldn't be doing this. Dean and Colin were dead. Harry and Ginny were a mess. They'd locked themselves in their separate rooms and were each trying to deal with everything that had happened on their own. And where was he? Was he doing anything to help them? No, he was lying on the floor snogging his girlfriend.

He was doing what he always did when something bothered him; he was trying to distract himself. He wanted to forget about the war. He wanted to forget about the deaths. He wanted to forget about everything and just focus on Hermione. But was that really so wrong? Why couldn't he shut the world out for a little while? Isn't that what Harry and Ginny were doing? Rather then taking comfort in solitude, he found solace in his girlfriend's arms. But he was offering her comfort as well, and wasn't that what really mattered? He wasn't being selfish. He was comforting Hermione. They were comforting each other. Unlike his best mate or his sister, she wanted to be with him. She'd searched him out. She needed him and he was going to take care of her.

If she wants to snog, that's what we're going to do, Ron told himself as he wrapped his arms around Hermione's waist and kissed her back enthusiastically. All that mattered to him now was her. He wanted to lose himself in her and let her lose herself in him. The rest of the world, and everyone else in it, would just have to wait until tomorrow. Tonight, he belonged to her.

Ron opened his mouth slightly, but before he could deepen the kiss, Hermione's tongue plunged into the gap and brushed against his. With a soft groan, he rolled them both over on their sides and kissed her back fiercely. Fighting the urge to rip her blouse open, Ron reached down and began unbuttoning it with trembling fingers. It took him far longer then he would have liked, but eventually he worked his way down to the final button. The instant he finished, he pushed her shirt open and placed both of his hands on her chest.

"Wait," she whispered softly, placing her own hands on his chest and giving him a shove.

"Wha--"

"Shush," she hissed, coming up on her knees and reaching over him to retrieve her jumper.

Ron could hear them now; voices in the hallway, and they were getting closer by the sounds of it. Praying that it was just the Order members leaving and not his mother searching for them, he stared wide eyed at the door.

Hermione didn't take the time to re-button her shirt. She just crammed her jumper on over her head, as she rose to her feet and tiptoed over to the door.

Ron breathed a silent sigh of relief when the muttering voices receded. Whoever it was must have walked right past the room they'd hidden themselves in and proceeded down the hall.

"What are you doing?" he whispered urgently, when Hermione cracked the door and peered outside.

"It's Bill," she mouthed, as he jumped to his feet, and crossed the room to stand beside her.

"Woah," Ron exhaled, when he caught sight of his oldest brother. He was an absolute mess. His shirt was ripped, covered in grime, and a fair bit of blood by the look of it. Even so, it appeared to be in better condition then his skin. Even at this distance, Ron could make out the bruises and scratches running down his brother's arms. He'd clearly been put through the ringer.

"Be sure you put more of that potion on after you shower," Tonks said quietly, pointing at the green gob smeared across Bill's forehead.

"Yes, Mum," Bill replied, chuckling when Tonks' cheeks flushed.

"Oh, that's rich," she retorted, as they came to a stop beside the front door. "And I suppose if I came back from a mission looking like I'd been chained to the back of the Knights Bus and dragged clear across England, you wouldn't fuss?" she said, whipping her wand out and using it to unlock the door. "Funny," she continued. "As I recall, you didn't even want me to go on the mission in the first place. And I'm the one that's mollycoddling you?"

Touché, Hermione thought with a smile as she watched Bill's ears redden. Even with all the dirt covering him, those Weasley ears of his had given him away.

"Bill and Tonks?" Ron mouthed to her silently, a mischievous gleam in his eyes that reminded her of his twin brothers. "What happened to Fleur?" he asked in a whisper.

"Who cares?" Hermione whispered back, fighting the urge to scowl. As far as she was concerned that French tart wasn't good enough for Bill, or any of the Weasleys for that matter. She was arrogant, vain, and far to full of herself to put someone else's feelings or needs above her own.

"Right then," Tonks said, patting Bill on the cheek when he didn't reply. "I'll just pop off to work now and act like I don't know what the hell's been going on," she continued, walking out the door and then unexpectedly pausing on the worn steps. "Better hope I don't get sacked," she added, without bothering to turn around. "Because if I do, I'll be back, and I'll make what Dolohov did to you look like a..."

"WHAT!" Ron cried, much louder then he intended, causing his brother and Tonks to both spin around and stare at the doorway he was standing in.

"Shush!" Hermione hissed, elbowing him in the ribs and pointing at the moth eaten curtains hiding Mrs. Black's portrait, which mercifully hadn't opened.

"What are you two doing in there?" Tonks asked quietly, coming back into the house, and closing the door behind her.

"I'd say it's fairly obvious what they were doing," Bill replied with a smirk, as he took in Ron and Hermione's disheveled appearance. "You two better be careful. Mum's still in the kitchen."

"We were sleeping," Hermione lied with a straight face, trying to sound offended.

"Uh huh," Bill chuckled when Ron's ear reddened, much to his companions chagrin.

Damn those Weasley ears.

"It's not our fault we've both been kicked out of our rooms," Ron murmured defensively. "And don't change the subject. How did Dolohov attack you when you were in Bristol and he's stuck in Azkaban?"

Tonks shifted uncomfortably as Bill glanced at her and then shot a look at the landing leading down to the kitchen.

"Well?" Ron demanded. "That bastard attacked Hermione and..."

"Ron, calm down."

"...if he's loose, I... she has a right to know."

"Oh all right," Bill whispered, moving closer to the doorway his brother was standing in. "It'll be all over the morning paper anyway. Still," he said, glancing towards the kitchen one more time just to make sure his mother wasn't around, "you didn't hear this from me."

"Yeah, whatever," Ron readily agreed.

"All those attacks," Bill replied softly, "they were just a diversion meant to throw the Ministry into chaos. While Fudge had his Aurors spread out all over the damn countryside, Voldemort and his little band of followers slipped off to Azkaban and had themselves a nice little jailbreak."

"Bugger!" Ron growled. "Malfoy?"

Bill nodded and then continued, "Along with Dolohov, Macnair, Mulciber, and Rodolphus Lestrange. Most of them cleared off as soon as we arrived, but Lestrange stayed behind to try and free his brother. I would have had him too, if Dolohov hadn't snuck up behind me and tried to nail me with a severing charm."

"That never would have happened if you'd let me do my job," Tonks muttered under her breath.

"Luckily Hagrid was there and he managed to take the brunt of the curse," Bill said, ignoring her comment. "Don't worry," he added when Hermione gasped and covered her mouth. "He's fine. Hagrid's far too big for a severing charm to do any real damage. All it did was hack him off. You should have seen that little shit turn tail and run. Still, it bought Lestrange the time he needed to slip away. Had to leave his brother behind though."

"Ron!" Hermione chided, when a muffled string of curse words issued from his mouth.

"This is just bloody great," he continued, glancing at Hermione anxiously. Out of all of those sodding bastards it would have to be them wouldn't it? "So," Ron said, trying to play his anxiety off as something else, "are you going to tell Harry, or am I?"

"I'll do it," Hermione sighed, knowing that Ron didn't like to be the bearer of bad news.

"Come on," he said, disregarding his brother and Tonks, as he linked his hand with Hermione's and pulled her back into their makeshift bedroom. "Tomorrow is going to be a long day. We better some sleep."

....................

Hermione didn't say a word as Ron steered her back to their blanket. She was afraid to speak; afraid her voice would betray her feelings. Under normal circumstances, she could hide her emotions, once she set her mind to it, that is. It was a simple matter of shoving them aside and erecting a mental wall around them to temporarily block them out. But this day had been anything but normal and her mind was literally spinning. There were so many feelings trying to break through that she had no chance of stomping them all down. The instant she focused on one and tried to contain it, another one would rear its ugly head. The jealousy led to guilt, which led to shame, and anger at herself for harboring those types of feelings about Harry, when none of it was his fault. It was a never-ending vicious circle.

"Don't worry," Ron said when Hermione lay down on the blanket and turned her back to him, as if she really did want to go to sleep. "I'll go with you," he added, positioning himself beside her. "We can tell him together."

"All right," she replied dully

Mione?" Ron asked softly, placing his hand on her side. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," she said, trying to keep her voice even. But it was a lie. She knew it and she suspected that Ron knew it as well. Although, mercifully, he didn't call her on it. Not only was she grateful for that, she was grateful for his strong arms which were now wrapped around her and the warmth of his body as he pressed himself against her. She was appreciative and miserable at the same time.

This was the last time he'd be free to hold her this way. This was the last night they'd spend together; the last time she'd fall asleep in his arms. In the morning everything would be different. She wouldn't be able to touch him. She wouldn't be able to kiss him. She wouldn't be able to speak to him freely. If she had a nightmare she couldn't go to him. She'd have to watch herself every minute of every day and she hated it. For nearly a month she'd had Ron's undivided attention, but that was all about to change. She was losing him; losing him to Harry, and there was nothing she could do but step back and let it happen.

"It'll be all right, love," he whispered after planting a soft kiss just below her ear. "I won't let him hurt you again. I promise."

"What?" she asked, trying to play it off as if she didn't know what he was talking about. He thinks I'm worried about Dolohov, she realized. I suppose I should be.

"It's all right to admit that you're afraid," Ron continued, holding her a little tighter.

"But I'm not," she replied truthfully. I should be, but I'm not. Maybe it just hasn't hit me yet.

"That sick bastard nearly killed you," Ron replied. "Of course you're afraid." I'm bloody afraid, he thought. "But I won't let him hurt you again."

"It's not like he was after me specifically," she said, rolling over so she could face him. "He was after the prophecy. I just happened to get in his way," she added, unsure of whether she was trying to reassure Ron or herself. "It could have just as easily been Neville."

"He didn't try and kill Neville."

"He didn't need to. When he broke Neville's wand, he was no longer a threat."

Ron studied Hermione's face intently as her words sank in. He'd never actually looked at it that way before. Neville really wasn't much of a threat, even with his wand. He couldn't even hit his target, half the time. Not that it really mattered. Why Dolohov tried to kill Hermione and not Neville wasn't really important. What mattered was that he did try to kill her, and given the opportunity, he'd likely try it again. How could she not be afraid?

"If it isn't Dolohov, then what is it?" Ron asked, knowing that something was bothering her.

"Nothing," she replied, averting her eyes.

"Don't give me that," he fired back quickly.

"It's... nothing," Hermione insisted. "It's silly."

"You can tell me," Ron said, reaching up and caressing her cheek. "I won't laugh. I promise."

"It's just that..." Hermione began and then faltered. Unable to finish, she let her head fall against his chest and tried to fight back the tears stinging her eyes. But Ron was so sweet, and her sense of loss was so strong now, that she just couldn't hold them back any longer.

"Hermione?" he said anxiously, as he felt the dampness on his shirt. "What is it?" he asked, embracing her protectively.

"I feel like this is our last night together," she whispered between snuffles.

"What?" Ron asked, both shocked and concerned.

"It'll be different tomorrow," she moaned. "Everything will change. I knew it would happen. I mean, Harry needs you and I understand, but I just didn't expect it to happen so soon. I thought I... that we'd have a few more weeks before... and I wasn't prepared."

"Wait," he said with mounting panic. "You're talking as if we're going back to the way things were...before."

"No. No, it's just that...your... our attention has been focused on each other...on us, as a couple, and now it won't be. God that sounds so awful," she exclaimed. "I don't mean to be selfish, it's just that... I know Harry needs you, but it's going to be different now. I won't be able to touch you and we'll have to watch ourselves all the time and..."

But she found herself unable to finish when Ron leaned forward and kissed her tenderly. It didn't last long, just a few seconds, but it was enough to silence her. When he pulled back, she let her head fall against his chest again and let herself go. She could feel his hands stroking her back softly as she sobbed in his arms.

"Did you come down here to say goodbye to me tonight?" he asked sorrowfully, when her tears dried up and her trembling abated.

Rather then respond with words, Hermione simply nodded her head against his chest and tightened her grip on him

"Were you even going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?" she sniffed. "There was nothing to tell that you didn't already know."

"I didn't know that you...that you felt like this," Ron said, his voice sounding oddly strained. "That you think Harry is more important then you are."

"He is," Hermione replied definitively.

"Bollocks."

"It's always been the two of you Ron. It's been that way since the very first day on the train. There is a bond between the two if you that I can't touch. I know that. I've always known it. And I understand. It's just sometimes it's hard being the..."

"Third wheel?" he asked, finishing the thought for her.

"This is why you don't want Harry to know about us," Hermione whispered, her watery eyes going wide with sudden comprehension. "You don't want him to feel like this."

"I don't want you to feel like this either," he stated compassionately. "I expected it from Harry, but not from you. Have you always felt like this and I just didn't see it? Bloody Hell," he murmured under his breath when Hermione didn't answer. "I'm sorry. It's not true," he assured her. "I mean sure, there are things we talk about together that we don't talk about with you. Guy things. Just like you and Ginny talk about girl things. It's just...easier. But there are tons of things you and I talk about that I don't share with Harry." Like my feelings, he thought.

"Don't you see, just because we're getting closer doesn't mean things are going to change. I mean, our relationship," Ron added, motioning to himself and then to Hermione, "will change, obviously. For the better. But not mine and Harry's. He's always been my best mate and he'll always be my best mate. When he needs me I'll be there for him, just like I'll be there for my other best friend, when she needs me," he added with a grin. "It doesn't have to be one or the other, love," he explained, leaning forward and kissing her on the forehead. "There is more then enough of me to go around. If you need something," Ron informed her, "all you have to do is ask."

"I'm sorry you're caught in the middle," Hermione replied.

"I'm not," Ron chuckled. "It's not like that. Not for me anyway. Actually it's rather flattering. Still, that doesn't mean I want to watch my two best friends fight over me. Although, it would be one spectacular duel," he joked.

"I'm not going to fight Harry for you."

"I wouldn't expect you to," Ron replied, becoming sober once more. "Anymore then Harry will fight you. He'll step aside just like you're trying to do. But you don't need to. Neither of you does. I mean, yeah, Harry is in a bad place right now, and he's going to need both of us to help bring him out of it, but it's always been that way hasn't it? I mean we worked this out ages ago. It's the same as it's always been. You take care of me, I take care of you, and together, we take care of Harry.

"So it's that simple, is it?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"The same as it's always been?"

"Yup," Ron agreed.

"We didn't used to snog."

"Yeah, ok, so that part is different."

"And you're not going to.... miss it?"

"Miss it?" Ron cried, rolling over on his back and pulling her on top of him. "Are you insane? There is no way in hell that I'm going to stop doing this," he declared, thrusting his hands in her hair and kissing her soundly.

There was nothing sweet and tender about this kiss. It was intense and deep and so full of passion that it made Hermione whimper. Unfortunately, her squeaks elicited unexpected results. Rather then continue, Ron pulled away from her, chuckling softly.

"Liked that, did you?" he teased, sitting upright and shucking his trousers off in one swift movement.

"What?" she said, as her eyes fluttered open and she tried to focus on him. "What are you doing?" she asked, when she realized he was only half dressed.

"Getting ready for bed," Ron replied with a roguish grin. "It's hot in here. You didn't expect me to sleep in my trousers did you?"

"I guess not."

"You might want to take off that jumper," Ron said, settling back down beside her. "Because it's going to get much hotter in here before I'm though," he added, his hand sliding gently up her arm.

"Is that so?" Hermione asked, biting her lower lip to keep herself from smiling.

"Merlin, Mione?" Ron groaned, his eyes glued to her bottom lip. "Do you have any idea how crazy that makes me?"

This time it was Hermione's turn to chuckle. "Really?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at him as she sat up and tugged her jumper off over her head. She was unable to hold the smile back when Ron's eyes dropped from her lips to her chest. She'd forgotten that she hadn't bothered to re-button her shirt, but clearly Ron hadn't. His eyes sought out her skin the instant she uncovered it. He was now staring at her hungrily, licking his lips like a starving man anticipating the taste of a four-course meal laid out before him.

Without thinking, Hermione reached down, gathered the sides of her shirt together, and blocked his view.

"Mione?" Ron moaned, his eyes now locked on her face, pleading.

"Stop staring at me like I'm a pork chop," she scolded.

"Pork chop," he laughed, grabbing her forearms and tugging her down on top of him. "Believe me, you're anything but thin and flat," he scoffed, just before he reclaimed her lips and administered a mind numbing kiss.

Rather then protest, Hermione seemed only too happy to participate. Her hands found their way into his already tousled hair at nearly the same moment her tongue met his. With her lying on top the way she was, Ron was able to make quick work of her blouse. Before she even registered the fact it was missing, he sent it was flying across the room.

"Ron!" Hermione cried, sitting upright and straddling him when she realized she was topless. "What did you do that for?" she asked, scanning the floor for her discarded shirt. "What if one of your brothers walks in? I won't be able to cover up?"

"No one will think to look in here, love," he replied, sitting upright and pressing his lips to her neck.

"They will if they hear us."

"We'll be quiet," he mumbled, pushing her hair aside to allow him better access.

"That's not the point," Hermione protested, but her heart wasn't really in it. Her heavy eyes had already shut and her head was starting to fall back in submission. "I'm the one that's exposed here."

"Not exposed enough," Ron whispered, as he slid the straps of her bra down her shoulders to ensure the path his mouth was taking would be unimpeded.

"Don't leave a mark," Hermione groaned, one hand falling to his head and entangling itself in his thick red hair once more.

"I know, love," Ron muttered. That wasn't a mistake he was going to make again. Not on her neck anyway. But there was nothing to stop his mouth from going a bit lower and lingering in places that Harry and his brothers would never see. Nothing but the thin barrier of cotton covering the area he wanted to get at most.

It has to go, he decided as he blazed a trail of soft kisses across Hermione's shoulder and worked his way down her collarbone. Unfortunately, Ron still had no idea how to work a bra. Hermione had always done that part for him. It seems easy enough when she does it. She doesn't even need to use both hands. But there must be some sort of trick to it, he lamented, because when he reached around her back and tried to unclasp it himself, the bloody thing refused to budge.

Rather then help him, Hermione started to giggle, much to Ron's annoyance.

"A little help would be appreciated," he groaned.

"Not this time," Hermione teased. "You want it off; you're going to have to do it on your own."

Challenge accepted, Ron thought, prying his lips from her body so he could look at her. The instant their eyes met, he smirked, then grabbed the front of the offending garment, and jerked it down forcefully, stopping when the tops of her breasts and both nipples were bared.

"That's not exactly fair," Hermione proclaimed, as she watched Ron's gaze drop down to her exposed flesh.

"The most brilliant witch I know once told me that all is fair in love and war," he shot back, his voice husky with desire.

"Prat," Hermione laughed, reaching around her back, releasing the clasp, and allowing her bra to drop in Ron's lap.

His heart hammering wildly in his chest, Ron lay back on his elbows, and studied the way Hermione's messy brown hair was now cascading around her breasts, accentuating them. Never taking his eyes off her, he reached up and cupped her with one hand. Almost instantly, he felt her nipple harden and press against his palm while he fondled her.

Hermione moaned softly as she reached down and gathered her long tresses up in her hands. As he watched, she lifted her arms above her head, giving Ron complete access to her.

Wrenching his eyes away from her chest, Ron glanced up at her face, looking for consent. Hermione's eyes were shut tight, but her actions were enough for him to proceed with a modicum of confidence. His entire body now on fire, Ron sat up once more, buried his face between her breasts, and kissed the valley while he continues to stroke her ample peak with his fingertips.

Hermione whimpered when he finally removed his hand from her breast and replaced it with his mouth, stroking her nipple with his tongue. The sound was enough to spur him on, and soon she was moaning softly as he nibbled and sucked her sensitive flesh.

Without warning, he pulled his mouth away from her body and immediately replaced it with both of his hands. Glancing up at her face, Ron noticed her eyes were still shut and her head was tilted back with pleasure. Her slender neck beckoned to him, so he placed his lips on it again and kissed her lightly, while kneading her firm breasts with his hands.

Not only did she groan loudly, she pulled her weight off his legs and arched against him, before sitting on his lap. With a strangled moan of his own, Ron moved his mouth lower, kissing her collarbone, and lower still, until his head was between her breasts once more. Then he released her left breast and slowly brought his mouth down on it, raining soft kisses all around the outside edge, before working his way in to the center. When he reached her pink nipple, he took it into his mouth, and sucked hard.

Ron had to pull away from her and suck in a deep breath when Hermione ground herself against him. It was so unexpected, and felt so good, that he nearly lost control of himself right there and then. Both of his hands immediately went to her waist to prevent her from doing it again.

"Liked that, did you?" Hermione cooed, as she put two fingers under Ron's chin and raised his head upward so she could kiss him.

When she brought her mouth down on his, Ron kissed her back eagerly. Moving one hand to her shoulder, he pushed her backwards, forcing her to pull her weight up off him and move her legs so she could lie flat on her back. As she fell backwards, he moved with her, covering her small body with his own.

The weight of his masculine body pressed against her own felt so good that Hermione was unable to suppress her soft moans of pleasure. Refusing to abandon her mouth, Ron swallowed them all, sent a few of his own back in her direction.

Shifting his legs to her sides, Ron broke the kiss and came up on his knees so he was straddling her. Breathing hard, his entire body aching for her, he sat back and tried to regain a measure of control. He was dangerously close to the edge now. If he didn't take a step back and rein himself in, he knew he was likely to try something he'd regret later. For a brief second, he wondered if she'd let him. The fire and desire he saw burning in her eyes when she opened them and looked at him, hinted that she might.

"You are so beautiful," he muttered, placing his hands on her thighs and slowly sliding them, and her skirt, forward.

Oh, Merciful Bloody Merlin, Ron swore to himself as his blazing eyes raked over her lower body and locked on her knickers. Any doubts he had as to whether or not she was as aroused as he was, vanished the instant he saw the tell tale sign there.

"Oh, Christ, Hermione," he moaned, his voice raspy with desire. "Do you have any idea how much I want to...?"

"To what," she asked with a mischievous grin when he unexpectedly fell silent. All's fair in love and war, remember? You're in sooo much trouble and you don't even know it yet.

"Be with you," he whispered, dragging his hands down her thighs and then pushing them back up again.

"You are with me," she replied coyly.

Not the way I want to be, Ron thought, moving his hands to her stomach and running them slowly up her body. When he reached her face, he cupped it in both hands, leaned forward, and kissed her energetically.

"Tell me what you want to do to me, Ron," Hermione ordered, after rolling them over and winding up on top. "I want to hear you say it," she added, coming up on her knees and running her hand down his chest. "Tell me while I touch you," she insisted, slipping her hand under the waistband of his boxers and wrapping it around him.

"OH FUCK!" Ron cried much louder then he meant to. The room wasn't shielded, and the last thing he wanted was to set Mrs. Black's portrait off and have his mother catch them, nearly starkers, on the floor, doing this.

"Is that it?" Hermione whispered, leaning forward and dropping her mouth to his neck. "Is that what you want?" she asked in a voice that was altogether too seductive. "Do you want to... fuck me?"

BLOODY BUGGERING HELL!!! Ron's mind screamed, as he bucked against her hand. He tried to respond, but when he opened his mouth all that came out was a throaty moan. Where the hell did this Hermione come from? She just cursed. Hermione cursed. She said fuck. She just asked me if I wanted to fuck her, he thought, groaning again not only at her question, but the images it invoked.

"Is that what you want, Ron?" Hermione asked, as her light caresses and gentle stroking became more vigorous. "Because if it is, I'm ready."

Those six little words were his undoing. They hit him like a ton of bricks and his release was so strong and so fast that he didn't even have time to moan out a warning.

"Apparently you're not," Hermione muttered, withdrawing her hand.

"Not...funny!" Ron panted, his face red with exertion and embarrassment.

"Oh come on," Hermione giggled as she lay down beside him. "Admit it. It's a little funny."

"No. It's. Not," he hissed. I can't believe this. I completely ruin my pants and she finds it... amusing? "You were just saying that, right?" Ron asked, as his heart still hammering in his chest. "To get me off?"

"No," Hermione replied, dropping a feather light kiss on his neck. "I meant it. I'm ready."

"But..." BLOODY HELL!! "You... we... you... You can't be."

"But I am."

"But..."

"I'm tired of waiting," Hermione sighed. "Aren't you?"

"Yeah, but..."

"You don't want to?"

"Are you kidding?" he shrieked in a voice much higher then he would have liked. I've only been dreaming of this moment since I was thirteen and realized girls were different in a good way. "Of course I do."

"But?" she asked.

BUT NOTHING! his body screamed, instantly ready for round two.

"The potion," Ron cried, as if it ought to be obvious, because really, it should have been. The whole bloody thing was her idea to begin with.

WHAT ARE YOUR DOING! the randy little voice in his head bellowed. ARE YOU DAFT? That is a warm, WILLING, nearly naked girl sitting in front of you. You're crazy about her and you're trying to talk her out of it? ARE YOU MAD?

"Oh that."

"Yes, that," Ron said, rolling over on his side and staring at her anxiously. What the hell is she thinking, the more reasonable side of his brain wondered, suggesting something like that with those madmen on the loose. Bloody Hell, if I hadn't been so shocked, I would have taken her up on her offer, he realized, and ruined any chance I had at keeping her safe.

"The potion will still work," Hermione replied.

SEE! his libido screamed. STOP HOLDING US BACK!

"Wait... no. I read your notes," Ron said uncertainly. "We can't."

"Yes we can," she argued. "It'll be fine, as long as we save the blood."

YES!! his libido cried triumphantly.

NO!! his rational side argued. "No... wait. It's not the same." Even a first year student could tell you that potions were more effective when the ingredients were fresh.

"Well, no," Hermione admitted, "but it'll still work. It'll be strong enough."

"Like Hell," Ron replied. "There is no bloody way I'm going to take a chance like that with those madmen on the loose. Voldemort and that bitch, Lestrange are bad enough on their own, but now there are five more of those maniacs running around and they'd like nothing better then to get their hands on you and Harry. Absolutely not. I won't risk your life like that."

"Ron."

"NO!" he cried, standing up and retrieving his trousers.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked, when he threw them on and approached the door.

"To change."

"You can't," she shot back quickly. "How are you supposed to explain that to Harry?"

"Bugger," Ron muttered under his breath.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, sounding truly remorseful. "Um... you can give them to me."

"WHAT!"

"Give them to me and I'll go clean them," she said, her face flushing. "I need to go take a shower anyway. Just put your trousers back on," she suggested, "and I'll bring them back to you when I'm though."

"A shower?" Ron asked, arching his eyebrows as he smirked at her. "Now THAT is a brilliant idea," he added. "I'll go with you."

"You will not."

"Afraid I'll tempt you again?"

"No you prat. Someone might see us."

"Who?"

"Your mum."

"Don't even joke about that," he replied, shuddering at the mere thought. "All right," he said, scooping her clothing up off the floor and handing it back to her. "You go to your shower, I'll go to mine and I'll meet you back here."

"All right," Hermione agreed, throwing her clothes back on and then following him to the door. "Ron," she said, as they slipped into the hallways and headed towards the staircase. "Try and find another blanket. It'll get chilly in the morning."

"Don't worry, love," he snickered, wrapping his arm around her waist and planting a quick kiss on her cheek. "I'll keep you warm."

"I'm sure you will," she chuckled softly as they reached the first floor landing and she headed off towards the bathroom she shared with Ginny.