Warning:
This chapter is rated R due to its strong sexual content. While not graphic enough to warrant an NC-17 rating, at times it is quite explicit. It is definitely NOT suitable reading material for children, or those that are sensitive or easily offended.
For those of you that ARE interested, there is a more explicit NC-17 version which I've posted as an outtake called Under Cover of Night at Checkmated. com, despite the fact it is basically the same exact chapter. The only difference is that I've been more descriptive and the encounter that takes place between R/Hr towards the end of the chapter is about 3 pages longer.
Chapter 44
It was well past midnight when the curtains of Ron's four poster bed were drawn back and Hermione clambered inside. Even so, Ron was wide awake and more than a little surprised to see that she was fully dressed, covered by a pair of faded jeans and an oversized jumper, rather than her dressing gown as he would have suspected.
"I was starting to think you weren't coming," he said, once she had impeturbed the bed and lowered her wand.
"Oh," Hermione cried, whipping her head around in surprise and staring at Ron, who was just lying there with one arm tucked behind his head. "I wanted to make sure Parvati and Lavender were really asleep first. I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were going to wait up for me."
"I wasn't," he replied, as he continued to take in her unconventional sleeping attire. "All right, I was," he admitted, when she gave him a pointed look. "But that's not the only reason. I can't sleep. Guess I just have a lot on my mind."
"Like what?" Hermione asked, as she reached down and started unbuttoning her jeans.
"Like why you're dressed like that for starters."
"I couldn't exactly bring a change of clothes with me," she explained, as she shimmied out of her jeans. "Leaving my shoes under your bed is bad enough. But this way if anyone catches me up here in the morning, I'll be fully dressed and we can avoid a lot of embarrassing questions."
"That's sounds like a good plan," Ron replied with a smirk, "only there's one flaw."
"What that?"
"You don't have anything to sleep in."
"Yes, I do. That shirt," she retorted, pointing at the navy blue t-shirt he was currently wearing. "Hand it over."
"And if I don't," he asked playfully, "are you going to sleep topless? Because I think if one of us has to, I'd prefer it to be you."
"Oh, you'd just love that, wouldn't you?"
"Don't worry, love. I'll keep you warm," he retorted with a cheeky grin.
"I just bet you will. Maybe I ought to go back to my own room."
"No, don't," Ron protested, latching on to her arm and pulling her up the bed until she was laying on her stomach beside him. "I'll be good. Promise. You can even have my shirt," he said, tugging it over his head quickly and holding it out for her to take.
"No, that's ok," Hermione replied, coming up on her knees and grasping the bottom of her jumper with both hands. "I already have one, thanks," she added, as she tugged the jumper over her head to reveal his Chudley Cannon's t-shirt, which she had knotted around her waist in an effort to keep it at a normal length. "I just wanted to see if I could get you topless."
"You little minx," he laughed, as he watched her work the knot with the fingers. "Oh well," he sighed with disappointment, when the knot came loose and the end of his shirt fell down to cover her stomach and thighs. "So I guess you won't be needing this one then" he said, tossing the shirt he'd been wearing to the foot of his bed, where her folded up jeans were resting. "Or this," he added, grabbing her jumper and flinging it into the pile.
"So what were you really up thinking about?" Hermione asked, as she slid under the covers and snuggled up against him before resting her head on the edge of his pillow. "Because I know it wasn't what I was going to be wearing."
"Oh you know," Ron replied evasively. "Just stuff."
Yeah stuff, he thought. It was as good a word as any to describe what he'd been mulling over. It hadn't been just one thing in particular, he'd been thinking about the day as a whole. He'd thought about everything that had happened in Defense Against the Dark Arts that morning and wondered if any of their classmates had picked up on anything. Hermione didn't seem to think they had. She said they were probably too shocked, and too focused on the Boggart to pay much attention to what the two of them were muttering to each other. Although he couldn't help but wonder if that was wishful thinking on her part. Seamus, at least, had realized that they both knew what shape her Boggart was going to take. Hopefully he hadn't noticed anything more telling, because Hermione thought they should try and keep their relationship a secret until they were sure that Harry was really ok with it.
He'd spent a good deal of time thinking about Harry as well. He finally seemed to be coming around, although Ron suspected that had more to do with the shock he'd received when he'd seen Hermione's Boggart first hand, rather than the fact he was really comfortable with the idea of the two of them as a couple. That was going to take a while. Harry didn't exactly deal with change very well and the fact that he was now dating Hermione pretty much changed everything.
Of course he wasn't just dating her anymore. They were engaged. Ron still couldn't really wrap his head around that one. He was going to be married to Hermione in just a few short weeks and it wasn't simply because they had to do it for her protection spell to work. They were doing it because they wanted to and it was going to be for real. He still couldn't believe that he'd actually proposed to her; that he'd actually said the words out loud. He'd said them in his head a few times just to test them out, but he had always sounded like such a prat that he never thought he'd actually have the nerve to say them to her face. Of course she had forced him to do it, but now that it was done, he was glad that she had. If he'd known that Hermione was going to have such a strong reaction he would have asked her a long time ago.
He'd been completely bowled over when he came back from Quidditch practice with Harry and his sister, to find Hermione waiting for him in the Common Room. She hadn't even bothered coming up with an excuse to feed Harry. She'd just said that now that they were done with their 'male bonding' she wanted some time with him and before he knew what had happened, she'd led him to the Room of Requirements, shoved him inside, and attacked him.
Who knew that being engaged would actually turn her on? Ron thought with a smile. Not that he was complaining by any means. He'd had a damn good time. So good in fact, he hadn't wanted to stop and go down to dinner. Unfortunately she had insisted. Now that she's here, maybe we can pick up where we left off.
"Stuff?" she asked skeptically.
"Yeah," Ron replied.
"It's just another practice," Hermione said, shifting her head from his pillow to his chest. "For you anyway. You aren't the one trying out. You're already on the team."
"But I still have to square off against everyone that is trying out," he replied, when he realized that she thought he was worried about the Quidditch trials that were set to take place the next afternoon. And she was right, or course. His anxiety about Quidditch had been mixed up with all the other 'stuff ' he'd been contemplating. "How is it going to look if they all score on me?" Ron asked, unconsciously reaching for her hair and running his fingers through it gently. Only after the question had left his mouth, he wished he could take it back, because Hermione was lying in his bed right beside him and the word 'score' invoked images that had absolutely nothing to do with his keeper abilities. Get your mind out of the gutter, he scolded himself.
"Some of them have to score," Hermione replied, oblivious to the implied meaning of the word she'd just used. "How else will you be able to tell if they're any good?"
Oh god!
"If you block every possible shot, they'll all be the same and no one will stand out," she continued, genuinely trying to be helpful.
"There are other things to take into consideration," Ron replied, trying to keep his mind on the conversation at hand and failing miserably.
"Like what?"
"Speed, agility, how much control they have over their broom."
BLOODY HELL! he groaned loudly in his own head, as those skills suddenly took on a whole new meaning. You've completely lost control of your 'broomstick', you randy tosser.
"Especially when they're in control of the Quaffle," he continued, trying to sound as normal as possible, "and don't have the use of both hands."
Shite!
"And that's just for scoring."
Well, it's official. She's ruined Quidditch. I can't even bloody talk about it without thinking about sex. How the hell am I supposed to play tomorrow? Every time I see the Quaffle, I'll start thinking about breasts. This is just bloody great. I'll probably miss every shot.
"And there is also their ability to work with their teammates to consider," Ron continued, still trying to play it off as if nothing was wrong. "Passing, guarding, intercepting, and... you don't really care about any of this do you?" he asked.
"Not particularly, no," Hermione admitted. "But you do and if what you just said is true, then the responsibility doesn't rest solely on your shoulders. You aren't the one that your teammates are going to be scrutinizing."
I wouldn't be so sure about that, Ron thought. Sooner or later someone is bound to notice my 'broomstick' and when they do I can pretty much guarantee all eyes will be on me.
"And just because someone scores off you," Hermione continued, oblivious to his struggle, "that doesn't mean that you are bad. Maybe it's just that they are really good and isn't that what you want? The whole point of holding tryouts is to find the best chasers."
"Yeah, but..."
"It's just another practice, Ron. It's not a game. No one is going to be keeping score. It's the exact same thing you've been doing all week with Ginny, only this time Katie is going to be watching her." ¹
"I guess," he said half-heartedly.
"You're not feeling any better, are you?"
"No, not really," Ron groaned. Actually it's rather painful now, he thought. "But thanks for trying."
"So... um... do you want me to come?"
YES! I'd love to see you come, his mind screamed and his already out of control body responded to the thought.
"You haven't come to any of my other 'practices'," he said however, grateful she hadn't noticed yet. Although it wouldn't be long, given his current state and he couldn't help but wonder how she'd react.
"Do you want me to?" Hermione asked.
"Would you come to them if I did?"
"Of course I would."
"Without a book, or your notes, or anything resembling schoolwork?"
"Unless we have a test coming up or a paper due," she replied, after giving the matter some serious consideration. "But I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
Too late for that, he thought, shifting restlessly.
"Do you want to go?" he asked.
"To the tryouts or your practices?" Hermione asked, pulling her head up off his chest and bringing her arm up so she could lean on her elbow and look at him.
"Either."
"Well," she said, "people will notice."
"So?" Ron replied, rolling over on his side to face her, but making sure to maintain his distance.
"If they ask me why I'm watching your practices what am I supposed to say?" Hermione asked.
"Tell 'em to mind their own bloody business."
Like that will work, she thought, rolling her eyes.
"So do you want to come?" Ron asked, arching his eyebrow suggestively, as his arm wrapped around her back and he moved in closer.
"RON!" Hermione cried in shock, when he shifted and she felt his erection against her stomach.
"What?" he asked innocently, although the smug look on his face suggested he knew exactly what she was talking about. You certainly weren't complaining this afternoon.
"Are you mad?" she shrieked, placing her hands on his chest and pushing against him when he tried to pull her closer. "There are other people in the room."
"They can't hear us," he assured her, just before he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to her neck. "It's not like they know you're in here or anything," he muttered between tender kisses.
"But... but... I know," Hermione protested, her hands still on his chest, but she was no longer trying to shove him away. "We can't," she said, although whether she was trying to convince herself or him, Ron wasn't exactly sure. "Not with other people in the room."
You're killing me here.
"We can go down to the Common Room," he suggested. "There isn't anyone else down there."
"You're impossible," Hermione said, pushing him hard and managing to wiggle free when he fell over on his back.
"Impossible to resist?" Ron asked, coming up on both of his elbows and giving her one of his lopsided smiled.
"Not to mention arrogant," she snapped, trying hard to keep a straight face, but in the end she had to bite her lip to keep herself from smiling back.
"Is that a no?" Ron asked, pretending to be hurt.
"Yes, it's a no," she replied. "I'm not going down to the Common Room to do that. Anyone could walk in and see us."
"Boys' shower?" he suggested, looking at her hopefully despite the fact he already knew she was going to nix that idea as well. When she says no, I'm going to have to go take one on my own.
"I'm comfortable here," Hermione replied, scooting closer and surprising him by leaning forward and pressing her lips to his.
Even as his arm went around her shoulder and he kissed her back, Ron was trying to figure out whether it was simply a good night kiss or an invitation to something else.
Bugger, he thought, wincing when he turned on his side and accidentally brushed up against her. "Lift that Imperturbable Charm for a minute," he said, pulling away from her and sitting up with a grimace.
"Why?" Hermione asked, clearly startled by the request. "What are you...where are you going?" she asked, when she saw him flip the covers back and come up on his knees.
"To take a cold shower."
"No you're not," she insisted, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him back down.
"Mione, I... I really need to go..."
"No you don't," she said, moving in to kiss him again.
"But... you just said..."
"I said I was comfortable here," she replied, giving him a pointed look as she waited for the meaning of her words to sink in.
"But the others..."
"...can't see or hear us, you said so yourself. Not as long as we stay here, but if we go out there, they might, so I've changed my mind. The best place to do this is here."
"Do what?" he asked, without even really thinking about it. "You... oh..." he said, following the declaration with a short moan when her hand brushed over his tented pajama bottoms. "You... you... don't have to," he said, although it was more because he thought he should, than because he wanted her to stop.
"We're you really going to take a cold shower?" Hermione asked, pressing her hand firmly against him. "Or were you going to take care of this yourself?"
"HERMIONE!" Ron cried, both shocked and horrified by the fact she thought he wanted to sneak off so he could bash the bishop.² It didn't matter that there was some truth to her accusation. She wasn't supposed to know or talk about it.
"Can I watch you?" she asked far to innocently.
"NO!" he cried, his face and ears flushing such a deep shade of red, they nearly matched the thick velvet curtains surrounding his bed.
"I'll let you watch me," she stated with a demure smile.
"NO! Wait... what?" Ron asked, gulping loudly and starring down at her with wide eyes.
"I'll let you watch me," she said again, only she wasn't nearly as confident as she sounded, because this time her cheeks flooded with color as well.
"Are you serious?" Ron asked, his voice deep and husky with desire. He'd watched her do that once before, on the night the two of them had taken a shower together at Grimmauld Place and quite frankly, it had been the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. It had taken every ounce of willpower he had not to loose control and come right on the spot. As it was, he'd forgotten how to breathe. And here she was offering to do it again. "You'll... and I ... I can watch? Well ...uh ...will you go first?"
"No way," Hermione cried, knowing full well he'd either back out of his end of the deal or get distracted and forget about it entirely. In fact, they'd probably both get distracted, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Truth be told, it was starting to sound more appealing by the second. "Now that I think about it, maybe I ought to just take care of you myself."
"No wait," Ron cried, when Hermione threw the covers off herself and sat up on her knees. "You...you really don't have to do that," he said, but mentally he was kicking himself as the words left his mouth. Memories of the things she had done to him with her hands that very afternoon in the Room of Requirements flooded his mind, adding fuel to the desire already raging within him. "I mean... what about you?"
"What about me?" Hermione asked.
I don't want you to feel deprived. "I ...er... well... I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I mean, that's not why I asked you to sleep in here. I wasn't planning... I didn't do it just because I wanted to mess around. I wasn't expecting you to do anything but sleep. "
"I know," she replied, licking her lips and steeling him with a look that was almost predatory.
"You...you do?" he stammered, as he registered the hungry gleam in her dark brown eyes.
"You were worried I'd have nightmares and you wanted to take care of me."
"Yeah... but... now you're here and... I...er..."
"You want to take care of me in other ways?" she asked coyly.
But Ron wasn't fooled. She might sound embarrassed and shy, but her eyes said something else entirely. She knows exactly what she's doing to me and she's enjoying it, he thought, his eyes shifting down to the neckline of her t-shirt, which had pulled away from her body as she leaned forward ever so slightly. She's like a bloody cat toying with her prey before she pounces, he groaned to himself, when she noticed where his eyes were and sat back before he was able to really see anything.
"See something you want?" she asked, licking her lips and arching one eyebrow.
And just like that, he went from prey to predator. "You're damn right I do," he cried, lunging forward and tackled her to the foot of his bed. "You saucy wench. It's not nice to tease."
"Is that what I was doing?" Hermione asked, smiling up at him sweetly.
"You know perfectly well that it was," Ron replied, his smoldering blue eyes running down the length of her body and coming back up again to lock on her chest.
"All you had to do was ask," Hermione said softly, from where she was lying underneath him.
"Maybe I ought to show you what it feels like to be teased," Ron declared, his voice low and husky with unrestrained desire. Yes, that's exactly what I'm going to do, he decided, placing one hand on her hip, the other on her thigh, and flipping her over on her stomach in one fluid movement.
"Ron," Hermione cried in surprise, when she unexpectedly found herself staring at the pile of clothes lying at the foot of his bed instead of him. "What are you doing?"
"Teasing," he replied, coming forward on his hands and knees to straddle her body.
"What? Stop it," Hermione said, when she felt his weight come down on top of her. "I can't see what you're doing."
"I know," he whispered, his mouth nearly level with her ear. "That's the point," he said softly, brushing her hair aside and kissing her neck. "You trust me, don't you?"
"Yes," Hermione replied, but that was hardly the point.
The only reply she got was a soft chuckle as he abandoned her neck and pulled away from her. The instant he came back up on his knees and she felt his weight shift, Hermione tried to spin around, but Ron had obviously been expecting that. One of his large hands immediately came down and pressed firmly against her back, holding her in place. "Don't," he said, "I'm not finished yet."
"Finished what?" Hermione asked, her heart rate speeding up dramatically. She knew he'd never do anything to hurt her; that he'd never do anything she didn't want. He was just playing around. He wanted to tease her and he was doing a damn good job. Not knowing what he was going to do next had an unexpected appeal. In fact, it was downright exciting.
Without warning she felt the mass that had been hovering over her back vanish as Ron sat upright, his knees still on either side of her legs. She knew if she tried to move again he'd prevent it, so she just lay there, waiting for whatever was coming next.
As he sat back, Ron took the time to admire Hermione's thighs because it wasn't all that often he got to see more than a glimpse of them. They were slender, yet toned, and her skin was a tantalizing light brown, not fair and dotted with freckles like his own. Without even really making the conscious decision to do it, his fingers slipped under the elastic waistband of her knickers and he slowly slid them down, noting that her arse was a shade or two lighter, but still not as pale as his.
"Ron?"
"Shush," he mumbled, leaning forward and dropping a few feather light kisses on her bum. Ron felt her shudder as his mouth moved delicately across her newly exposed flesh and her response encouraged him to become a bit bolder.
The kisses became firmer and interspersed between them he alternated between flicking her flesh with his tongue and gentle sucking. As he worked his way over one voluptuous cheek, he cupped the other and kneaded it gently. "Merlin, you're soft," he muttered against her skin, unclenching her arse and slowly sliding his hand beneath her.
"Oh god," Hermione whimpered, arching up instinctively when she felt his finger brush her where she was the most sensitive.
SHITE! Ron swore inside his own head. He'd wanted to tease her and somehow he'd ended up tormenting himself even more. He had to stop touching her. He had to distract himself before he lost his mind completely, stripped off his clothes, and did something they'd both likely regret.
Without warning, Ron's hands abruptly abandoned her and Hermione felt the mattress give as he flopped over on his back with a frustrated groan.
"Why'd you stop?" she asked, twisting her head around and staring at him over her shoulder.
"Can't...," he muttered, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession due to his labored breathing. "Just... need a minute," he continued, shutting his eyes tightly and struggling to get his raging hormones under control.
"Oh I see," Hermione giggled, as her eyes roamed down his body and locked on his tented pajama bottoms. "Teased yourself into a frenzy, did you?" she asked, rolling over and coming up on her knees to give him a mischievous smile. "Looks like you need me to take care of you after all," she added, as she darted forward, leaned down, and slipped her fingers under the waistband of both his pajamas and his pants.
"See something you want?" Ron asked, opening his eyes and echoed her own words back to her with a smug grin.
"I'm about to," she replied with a hearty laugh, tugging on his pants.
Ron immediately lifted his hips up off the bed to make it easier for her to remove his clothes. Completely starkers, he watched Hermione toss his clothing aside and wet her lips with her tongue.
"What about you?" he asked, hoping that she'd pick up what he was hinting at and remove the t-shirt, which was hiding most of her from view.
"Forget about me," she said, pushing his legs apart and kneeling between them. "You've got more important matters to worry about," she said, her eyes locked on his.
"Oh god," he moaned in anticipation, as he watched her tongue dart out and wet her lips yet again. Please, he begged in his mind, oh please. She'd only used her mouth on him one time before and it had felt better than he'd ever imagined.
He was helpless to do anything but lie back and watch her. Somehow without even realizing that it had happened, Hermione had wrenched the power away from him. She was in control of the situation; in control of him. His happiness depended upon her and at this specific point in time he'd do damn near anything she asked of him.
But she made no requests. She simply looked down at him for a moment as if he were a complicated Arithmancy problem that needed to be considered from several different angles. Ron watched with wide eyes as her concentration broke and she reached forward to slowly run one finger down him.
"Please," he begged, his heart thundering wildly in his chest.
"You'll warn me, right?" she asked.
"YES!" he cried, but despite his assurances, she still did nothing. "Please," he whimpered, letting his head fall back into his pillow in frustration. She's bloody trying to killing me.
"Please what?" she asked mischievously.
"You know what," he groaned.
"I do," Hermione admitted, "but I'm not going to do it unless you ask me to."
"Use your mouth," Ron practically screamed. Oh god, please, he thought, moaning quietly when she leaned forward and her hair swept in front of her face, blocking his view.
...................
"S...s...sorry," Ron panted, his face beat red with mortification because he hadn't been able to warn Hermione off before he lost control. "I... wasn't... expecting...god...," he faltered and groaned again. "That felt... incredible. Sorry," he repeated quickly, when he noticed Hermione's wide eyes narrow.
"I wasn't planning on doing that," she declared, as she reflexively swiped the back of her hand over her mouth. You're lucky I didn't spit it out all over you.
"Sorry," Ron stammered again. Bloody hell. Please don't curse me, he thought, trying hard not to cringe as he fought to regain his breath.
However, rather than reach for her wand, Hermione did the unexpected and threw herself at him instead. For a second Ron thought she was going to try and pummel him to death rather than waste her time coming up with an appropriate spell, but she apparently had a different idea altogether. Nearly half the air in his lungs was forced out when she landed on top of him, but she didn't wait for him to recover. Even as he was trying to suck it back in, her mouth closed over his. It took him a moment to realize she wasn't trying to smother him. Of course the fact that her tongue had pushed into his mouth and was brushing against his own, clued him in fairly quickly.
She's not angry, she's turned on, he thought, just before he started kissing her back. It was then that he noticed that she tasted different and he realized why. Somehow that knowledge was both disturbing and arousing at the same time. Better not think about it too much, he decided, snaked his arms around her back and rolled them both over until he was sprawled out on top of her.
"Your turn," he growled, pushing his hands under Hermione's shirt and trailing his fingers up the side of her body and over the swell of her breasts as he continued to devour her lips. "I want to see you," he stated, pulling his weight off her body and sitting upright quickly so he was straddling her. He didn't wait for her to reply or give him permission. The instant he was upright, Ron gripped the bottom of the shirt she was wearing and shoved it up until both of her breasts were exposed. "Merlin, you're beautiful," he sighed, reaching down and trailing his fingers over her reverently.
Ron's eyes darkened with rekindled desire and he unconsciously licked his lips when her nipples hardened right before his eyes. Mere seconds before his only thought had been to get her shirt off, but now the shirt was all but forgotten as he reached forward and cupped both of her breasts. They're bloody brilliant, he thought, as he brushed his thumbs back and forth over her upraised flesh. He would have happily spent the rest of the night lavishing his attention on her supple mounds, but Hermione was impatient and wanted his attention directed elsewhere.
"Ron, please," she sighed, squirming beneath him.
"Please what," he asked playfully, prying his hand off her left breast, then leaning forward and kissing it gently. Let's see how you like it when the shoes on the other foot, he thought, flicking her with his tongue before he started to suckle.
"I...I want...," Hermione mumbled.
"What do you want, love?" he asked, as he kissed his way down the slope of her breast to the valley below.
"I want... I feel so empty," she replied, her fingers running lovingly through his thick red hair. "I need you to... I want you to... I want to feel you inside of me."
That's not what she meant, Ron chided himself, shifting his weight, sliding his right hand down her stomach, and reaching for her center as he felt his body respond to her plea.
"It's not enough," Hermione whimpered, when he leaned forward and kissed her stomach. "I need more."
"All right, love," Ron replied, pulling away from her with a soft chuckle. No more teasing, he thought, kneeling between her legs, determined to do whatever it took to bring her to completion.
....................
"Come here," Hermione said once he had finished, grabbing his arm and urging him to come back up and lie beside her. "We're not finished yet."
"We're not?" Ron asked, taken by surprise, but doing as she asked nevertheless.
"Kiss me," Hermione demanded, grabbing Ron's shoulders the instant he was beside her and pulling him down on top of herself.
OH FUCK! Ron's mind screamed, when Hermione spread her legs around him and he unexpectedly found himself nestled between them. "WAIT!" he cried, as he accidentally brushed against her inner thigh and sparks on pleasure surged through his body. So close. I'm so bloody close. All I have to do is move forward just a bit and... NO! We can't.
"I don't want to wait anymore," Hermione said, before kissing him again deeply.
YES! a voice inside his mind screamed triumphantly.
NO! NO! WE CAN'T! he argued with himself. The potion.
BLOODY FUCKING POTION!
"Hermione?" Ron mumbled against her lips just before he pulled away from them, "What do you mean? What about the.. the potion?"
"It's brewing," she replied quickly, her eyes dark and swirling with lust. "It will be all right," she assured him. "We can just collect what we need and add it now. Well, tomorrow...," she amended, "unless... no, now would probably be better. We can add it tonight."
"But... but it isn't even finished. You just started for Merlin sakes and..."
"It doesn't matter," she insisted, "It shouldn't make all that much of difference at this point."
"But..." Ron stammered, his heart racing with excitement. He wanted her so badly and apparently she wanted him as well, but it was all happening so fast and he just couldn't think.
It didn't help that his libido had shoved it's way to the forefront of his mind and kept screaming things like, YOU HEARD HER, SHE'S READY! and DON'T RUIN THIS! SHUT UP AND TAKE HER! NOW!
It would have been so easy to give into the voice and bury himself inside her. He was so close to her center, all he'd need to do would be move up a bit and shift his hips, but he was nervous. He was more than nervous actually, he was worried. The nagging feeling that something else was wrong wouldn't leave him.
"STUPID RUDDY POTION!" he screamed out loud, as he remembered what was holding him back.
"It shouldn't change the potion much," Hermione replied, as she squirmed beneath him.
"Much?" Ron cried in horror. "I know enough about brewing potions to know that's not how it works. Everything has to be exact and added at just the right time or the entire thing will be ruined."
"No," Hermione disagreed. "It will alter it a bit, that's true, but I should be able to compensate for that and balance it all out so that by the time it's finished it'll be ..."
"But...," Ron stammered.
BUT WHAT! he libido screamed. YOU HEARD HER! SHE CAN FIX IT AND WE WANT HER, SO SHUT UP AND SHAG HER!
"Hermione...it just seems so... are you sure you're ready?" he asked, staring at her uncertainly.
"Don't you want to?" Hermione asked, looking a little hurt.
YES, BUT THIS STUPID SOD IS HOLDING US BACK! STOP OVERANALYZING EVERYTHING! YOU'RE TURNING INTO HER!
"More than you could possibly know," Ron moaned sorrowfully.
"But?"
"I...er..," Ron stammered.
SHAG HER ! his libido shrieked in his head.
I CAN' T ! he shouted back in his mind. I can't perform the Lànain unless she's a bloody virgin.
BUGGER IT ALL!!!!!
"I...um... think we should wait," Ron muttered, as he came up on his knees and moved away from her. "You know...do it right."
"Right?" Hermione asked, coming up on her elbows and staring at him with her brow wrinkling in confusion.
"I...well...," Ron stammered. "The potion... I mean, I thought we'd ...we'd sorta be...you know, married first. I mean it's only a few more weeks and well, I thought it would kinda be romantic or something."
"Oh," Hermione said, instantly feeling better. He wants it to be romantic. That's sweet. Inconvenient, but sweet. "Um... we still have to do it before we drink the potion. You do realize that, right?" she asked.
"Yeah," he admitted, "but... well... um... we can still perform the Lànain first."
"Ron!" Hermione cried, her eyes narrowing significantly.
"We're going to be married anyway," he said, as if that justified his remark, "and I want to protect you."
"From what?" she asked, tugging her shirt down until she was completely covered and giving him a skeptical look.
"You asked about my Boggart," Ron replied, purposely averting his eyes and picking at the tatty patchwork quilt covering his bed as he continued. "They don't just kill you," he whispered in a strained voice. "They... they break you first. That's what it would be," he reluctantly admitted. "You at that moment. After they've forced you to... do things; after they've stripped you of your dignity and hurt you so badly that you ...that you beg them to put you out of your misery. I can't let that happen," he said, more to himself than to her. "I won't."
"Are you talking about rape?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide with horror, both at the thought and the pained expression on Ron's face.
Over my dead fucking body! Ron thought, his face hardening with resolve. "They're monsters, Hermione. Brutes that have been locked away in prison for years. Locked up for murder and torture and worse. I don't want that to happen to you. It won't. Not as long as I can prevent it. You have to let me do this," he pleaded, as he came forward on his knees and knelt in front of her. "You have to let me protect you. I'll take the charm off... I'll take it off and release you the second you ask me to, I swear I will. I don't want to hold you against your will or anything," he assured her. "It isn't about ownership or control or anything. I know I can be a jealous git, but that's not what this is. I swear, it's not. I just... I want to keep you safe. We're going to be married soon and it's my responsibility to take care of you and... please Hermione," he said, looking at her imploringly, "just think about it. I mean really think about it before you make up your mind, because..."
"All right," Hermione replied with a loud sigh. "I'll think about it," she added. "But I'm not making any promises."
"Really?" Ron cried in surprise. "You'll really think about it?"
"I said I would, didn't I?" she snapped back. But I'm not making a decision until I've read up on it and know what I'm agreeing or disagreeing to.
"I'm sorry," Ron said as he lay down beside her and let his head fall back in his pillow. "I didn't mean to ruin the mood and everything."
"It's late," Hermione replied, snatching her knickers off the bed and slipping them back on before she crawled under the covers. "We should probably get some sleep anyway. You're going to have a long day tomorrow."
"Tomorrow is Saturday," he reminded her, sliding under the covered without a stitch of clothing on. "We can lie in as long as we want."
"But we have detention and you have Quidditch, plus you still need to finish your Transfigurations homework."
"Can't I do that on Sunday?" he asked hopefully.
"Have you finished your History of Magic paper yet?"
"No," Ron groaned, knowing what was about to come next.
"Have you even started it?"
"Of course I have," he replied, "but it's sooooo boring. I mean really, who cares about that tedious Council of sixteen-whatever and why those nutter centaurs wanted to be classified as 'Beasts' rather than 'Beings'? They don't make any sense because they're mental, the lot of them. That's all I need to know."
"Yes well, you'll know much more then that by Monday night," she retorted, as she settled down beside him and turned so she was facing the curtains, "because our papers are due first thing Tuesday morning."
"Hermione?" Ron said softly, as he draped his arm over her waist and pulled her flush against his body.
"What?"
"Are you mad at me?" he asked.
"No," she replied, grabbing his hand and intertwining their fingers.
"Mione?"
"Yes?"
"Thanks, love. I had a good time tonight."
"Me too," she replied, glad he couldn't see her smile. "Now shut up and go to sleep."
Author's Notes:
¹ "You're banned as long as Umbridge is in the school," Ginny corrected him Harry. "There's a difference. Anyway, once you're back, I think I'll try out for Chaser. Angelina and Alicia are both leaving next year and I prefer goal-scoring to Seeking anyway." (OotP, American Edition, pg 575)
For the purposes of this story, I've taken this statement as evidence that Katie Bell is actually a year behind the other two girls and therefore still at Hogwarts. That would make her a 7th year and the senior player on the Gryffindor team. As a result, I've inferred that she is now Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, although I never came right out and said it.
²"Bash the Bishop" is a one of the many British terms used to describe that act of male masturbation.