AAAAHHHHHHH! I'm super excited to finally be wrapping this up! Thank you to everyone who has 'jumped' into this fic with me. I appreciate it so very much! All the comments, the kudos, and the love! You guys are all great!
A last gigantic Titanic-size thanks to BGP, Cheesy, & Array for looking over this for me and finding my errors/fixing my wordses! They are all marvelous! Go and show their amazing fics some love, they deserve it!
oOo
Ron squinted in the bright morning light as he stepped off the large, dark green bus he'd been sitting on for the last twelve hours. Taking a deep, calming breath, he straightened the collar of his blue button-down shirt before making sure it was properly tucked into his slacks.
He took a few steps onto the sidewalk, catching his reflection in the window of a small shop in front of him, hardly even recognizing himself. He was unshaven, his hair shaggy, and his face now held a haunted look that hadn't been there a year ago. Looking down, he frowned at how wrinkled his brand new clothes were from his journey, but then decided that didn't matter because Harry certainly wouldn't care about such trivial things.
Ron headed into the shop, his pocket heavy with the weight of a check from the state of New York that contained more money than he'd made in his entire life. When Warden McGonagall had handed it to him, along with the new outfit and his bus ticket, she'd explained it was his compensation for 'wrongful imprisonment'. Ron had been speechless. Once he'd found his voice again, he'd repeatedly expressed his gratitude, although the woman waved him off, saying it was only the standard procedure for such circumstances, though Ron had a strong feeling that wasn't true— at least the outfit and the ticket part.
Ron meandered up and down the aisles, his eyes not really seeing any of the products on the shelves, his nerves too shot to pay attention. Taking out from his pocket the small piece of paper with Sirius Black's address on it, he walked to the front of the store and asked for directions. The man behind the counter easily pointed him the right way, telling Ron that the home was only a few blocks north. Thanking the older man, Ron left the store, feeling anxious about seeing Harry after their time apart.
If Harry was even there.
It had been over a year, after all, and many things could have happened in that time— the possibilities were endless. Ron had no idea what he'd discover at Sirius Black's home, but he knew he had to find out.
Following the directions he'd been given, Ron walked until he came to a large grey house surrounded by a tall black gate, the plants along the front of it trimmed neatly, with various colored flowers adorning the bushes. Looking again at the paper in his hand and making sure that he was at the right place, Ron slowly walked up the stone path to the front door, his whole body on edge as he braced himself for disappointment.
As he walked, a large ginger cat darted in front of him and nearly made him trip over his feet. With a flash of pain, Ron remembered when Hermione had talked about wanting a cat the same color as his hair, and he stilled, the memory too raw. After a moment, he inhaled, purposely pushing the thought out of his head before continuing. He couldn't afford to fall apart over Hermione right now, he needed to focus.
He needed to find Harry.
When he reached the front door, Ron lifted and held his fist frozen in the air for several seconds before dropping it and leaning his head against the wood to compose himself.
Worst-case scenario, Harry would have never made it there at all. At the very least, he was hoping that Sirius would be able to point him in the right direction. But what Ron wanted more than anything, was for Harry to be happily living here with Sirius. Ron needed to know that his best mate since the age of fifteen hadn't experienced the worst year of his life as he himself had.
And if his wish came true, and Harry was there, how was he going to react to Ron showing up now? Surely, he'd be happy, but Ron knew he'd also be shocked. After all, it wasn't every day that your best friend came back after disappearing into thin air.
Ron stood up straight and managed two small knocks on the door. He heard a voice he didn't recognize call out from inside, letting him know they'd be there in a moment, and several minutes later the door was opened by a flustered-looking man that seemed to be about twice Ron's age.
"May I help you?" he asked, his expression confused as he studied Ron.
Ron cleared his throat, almost too scared to speak. Right now, everything was standing on the answer to the question he was about to ask.
"Hi. Is there a Harry Potter here?'
The man's eyes widened in surprise before narrowing with suspicion. "What do you want with Harry?"
"So he's here then?" Ron asked, excitement coursing through his chest.
"He is. And who are you?"
Ron let out a loud whoop. "Oh, I'm sorry," he apologized as he stuck his hand out. "I'm Ron Weasley, Harry's best—"
"Ron Weasley is dead," the man interrupted, his eyes still narrowed.
Ron's smile dropped from his face and he nodded solemnly. "Yeah. That's what Harry would think."
The man's face screwed up in anger. "You knew where he was? All this time? You let him believe you were—"
Ron hastily shook his head. "No! No, I would never abandon Harry like that! I know I have a lot of explaining to do, and I—"
"I'll say," the man cut in before letting out a sigh. His eyes moved up and he stared at Ron's hair for several seconds, his face softening just the tiniest bit. "Alright, come inside. I'm Sirius by the way."
Ron nodded before stepping into the house. Following as Sirius led him across a large, elaborate living area before bringing him into a bright white kitchen, the smell of an already made breakfast making his mouth water.
"I'll go and fetch Harry," Sirius said. "If you are who you say you are, then—"
A choking sound interrupted Sirius' words, and Ron turned to find Harry, who had apparently just walked in, frozen to the spot, his mouth open as he stared at Ron as if he were seeing a ghost.
The sight of his best mate after so long caused Ron's eyes to fill up with tears. "Hey, mate," he managed in a weak voice only a second before Harry was running and throwing himself into Ron's taller frame, the two falling into a tight embrace.
"You sonofabitch! Harry cried in a strangled voice, causing Ron's tears to spill over as he let out a small chuckle. "You have no idea what you have done! Where the fuck have you been, Ron?"
"It's a long story," Ron answered. "I was locked up and I—" Ron's words were cut off as Harry let out a sob and embraced him tighter, his body shaking.
Ron patted Harry's back, trying his best to comfort his hysterical friend. After Harry had calmed down a bit, he stepped back, his eyes roaming over Ron's face as if looking for any signs of deception.
"Fuck. It really is you."
Ron gave him a grin. "It's me, Harry."
"Ohmygod," Harry whispered. "I—" he stopped talking, his face draining of color. "There's something—" he stopped again, as if he didn't know how to form the words he wanted to say.
"What?" Ron asked, now feeling uneasy by Harry's odd behaviour. His eyes traveled to Sirius, thinking that he might be the problem, but the man had been standing there watching their reunion with a soft smile on his face, so Ron doubted it could have anything to do with him.
Harry's eyes again met Ron's. "I need you to— just...stay right here, okay? Don't move."
Ron gave a slow nod. "I'm not going anywhere."
Harry nodded back, his face unreadable. "I have to...I'll be right back," he murmured before exiting the kitchen and disappearing.
Ron stood there, unsure of what to do.
"You might want to sit down," Sirius broke the silence as he turned to the counter and poured himself a cup of coffee.
"Why?" Ron asked as he made his way to the table and sat down. "Where did he go?"
Sirius brought the mug to his lips, taking a slow sip of the steaming contents, his eyes now lit up with amusement. "Probably went to get his wife."
Ron raised his eyebrows and gave the man a skeptical look.
"You'll see," Sirius said airily.
Opening his mouth to question Sirius further, Ron stopped when he heard voices approaching, instead turning his head in order to hear them better. Straining his ears, he could tell that there was an argument happening— and not a quiet one at that— and he was almost certain he'd heard his name among the muffled words.
He could immediately tell that one voice was Harry's, but the other…
Ron stood up, his hands gripping onto the back of the wooden chair for dear life as a war between longing and disbelief battled inside of him. As the voices got closer, the feeling only intensified, and he took a few tentative steps towards the doorway, his hands shaking as they let go of the chair.
It couldn't be.
But it was.
Ron's world stopped as Harry led Hermione into the kitchen, her eyes panicked as they scanned the room before landing on him. Her mouth let out a startled squeak as her hands moved to cover it, her beautiful brown eyes filling up with tears as she stood frozen to the spot.
Ron couldn't speak— couldn't even move. He stared at her, his blood pounding in his ears as his brain tried to comprehend what was right in front of him.
How was this possible?
Was this a dream?
If it was, it was the realest one he'd ever had, and Ron knew the pain would be agonizing if he were to wake up to find that this was a trick of his mind.
"Ron?" Hermione whispered, the sound of her voice breaking him from his stupor. Tears fell from her eyes as she took two wobbly steps in his direction before she stumbled and started to fall. The sight threw Ron into action, and he jumped forward and caught her in his arms, his own legs giving out. They fell to the floor together, with Hermione in Ron's lap and his legs folded awkwardly underneath him.
They broke down together, Ron crying into Hermione's hair as she sobbed into his chest, her fingers grabbing onto his shirt as if holding on for dear life. It was as if neither of them were capable of speech, both too overwhelmed to do anything except cling to each other. There were no other thoughts in Ron's brain, the only thing he could focus on was the feeling of Hermione against him, the smell of her hair as he breathed her in, the ache in his chest that was slowly but surely starting to believe that this was real after all.
Hermione spoke first, her voice tiny and weak, the sound helping to bring Ron out of his shock.
"How is this real? I don't underst—"
"Malfoy lied to you," Ron cut in, his arms pulling her even closer as he spoke into her curls. "I thought you were dead, Hermione," he added, his voice breaking.
"Faking my death was the only way I could escape him," Hermione whispered.
Ron nodded, knowing that it was probably true. "But there was a witness…"
"Hannah," Harry chimed in, causing Ron's head to turn to him. "We had to make it believable."
"Shit. I should've figured it out," Ron murmured as he again closed his eyes and bent his head.
"Ron," Hermione wept, her face moving to rest in the crook of his neck.
"So where have you been all this time?" Harry questioned, sounding impatient. "Malfoy told Hermione that he had you thrown overboard."
Ron shook his head. His legs were starting to ache due to his position on the hard floor, but in order for him to move, Hermione would have to move first, and Ron wasn't willing to let her go for a second.
Not yet.
"Malfoy wanted Hermione to think that," Ron said in a raspy voice, his hands running up and down Hermione's arms. "That—" he paused. "That night I was with you, Hermione. We fell asleep, and when I woke up..." Hermione's hands fisted his shirt tighter, and Ron swallowed the lump in his throat. "Zabini caught me leaving the suite. He took me to a small room near the bottom of the ship and I was handcuffed and not able to escape. After that, he and Malfoy had quite a fun time showing me who was boss," Ron finished bitterly.
"There was blood on Zabini's hands," Hermione said in a pained voice. "Draco made him show me."
Taunting him was one thing, but the thought of Malfoy taunting Hermione like that made Ron see red, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek and force the thought away so he would be able to finish his story. Not wanting to upset Hermione further, he decided not to go into detail about how badly he'd been injured. "I was thrown into prison the moment we arrived in New York. I had a new identity that was tied to a crime I never committed, and a life sentence. That's where I've been for the last year."
"Shit," Harry muttered. "If we had any inkling that you were alive, we would have gotten you out sooner."
"I know that. None of this is your fault, mate."
"Ron, I'm so sorry," Hermione cried.
"No, love," Ron soothed. "You didn't know. S'not your fault. Malfoy did that on pur—"
"How the bloody hell did you get out of prison?" Harry interrupted, causing Ron to smile at his best friend's obvious frustration.
"Stroke of fucking luck, really. They hired a new warden, and turns out she was on the same ship as us." Harry's eyes widened as Ron continued. "Yeah. I sketched her nephew on the deck and she remembered me. Other than the security guard, who was a real neat bloke, she was the only one who believed I was innocent. All it took was a bit of digging, and they cleared me of all charges. I got a check for wrongful imprisonment and everything."
"A check? How much?" Harry asked, his jaw dropping.
Still holding on tight to Hermione with one arm, Ron leaned to the side and pulled the folded check out of his pocket, wordlessly handing it to Harry, who let out a loud whistle as he unfolded it.
"Damn."
"No amount of money can be enough," Hermione spoke, her voice muffled by Ron's shirt. "I had to live for a year without you, Ron. It was so awful. Every night I had nightmares, and I almost—" she stopped talking, letting out a small sob. "I hate him. I hate Draco more than anyone or anything for what he did to you — what he did to us."
"He can't hurt us anymore, love," Ron soothed as he cupped her chin and pulled her head back so he could see her face, the sight of her so close to him taking his breath away.
Hermione was staring at him as if she still couldn't believe he was there. "I can't believe this is real," she murmured as she reached up to run her hand over his unshaven jaw. "You have a beard."
Ron chuckled. "Inmates aren't allowed the luxury of razors. They did give me a haircut twice, though."
Hermione gave him a small smile, but Ron could sense that her mind was now on something else entirely, and he knew that there was still more he was going to learn.
"What is it?" he asked her in a soft voice as he took her hand and pulled her palm to his lips, giving it a kiss.
"It's been so long," Hermione replied in a quiet voice. "We were together for such a short time, Ron. A lot of things have changed, and there's still so much to tell yo—"
"Hermione," interrupted Ron. "Nothing— and I mean nothing could ever change the way I feel about you. No matter how much time has passed, or what has happened in that time. I still love you." He held his breath, hoping she would tell him the same, knowing it would break him if she didn't.
Hermione's eyes watered before she flung her arms around his neck, Ron again pulling her close.
"I love you, too. It's always been only you."
"Ouch," Harry cut in, and when Ron looked up at him, he was grinning from ear to ear, looking exactly like the cheeky prat Ron remembered.
"Wait." Ron looked at Sirius, remembering something. "Why did you say Hermione was Harry's wife?"
Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but Harry spoke first. "She is. Well... I mean... not really. But she's been going by Hermione Potter because—" he paused, eying Hermione.
"He's been taking care of me," Hermione finished. "I don't know how I would have managed without him," she added as she wiped at her eyes.
"Thanks, mate." Ron told Harry earnestly, even if he was confused as to why they would take such drastic measures. He looked down at Hermione, who was again staring up at him.
"I love you," she repeated. "I never stopped. I thought of you every day— every second."
Ron's hand moved of its own accord, tangling into Hermione's wild curls at the back of her head. Moving at the same time, they both let out a small breathy noise as their lips met.
It was heaven.
Everything Ron had missed.
Everything he'd ever wanted.
His whole life was complete, just as long as she was in it.
They broke away from each other at the sound of a throat being cleared, and Ron turned to see Harry still standing there, his arms now crossed.
Harry sighed. "We— I mean— like Hermione said, a lot has happened this year." He cleared his throat again, his eyes shifting to Hermione, the two of them in some sort of silent conversation.
Whatever it was about, Harry must have convinced Hermione, because she then stood up. Ron followed suit, not ready to let her out of his sight or out of hand's reach quite yet.
"There's something I need to show you," she said as she turned to him, a nervous look on her face.
Ron said nothing, but he reached out and pulled her in for a chaste kiss before letting her go, taking her hand and lacing his fingers with hers. "Okay, love. Lead the way."
Hermione sniffed before giving him a small smile, and with his hand still in hers, she led him out of the kitchen, Harry and Sirius staying behind. She led him over to a grand-looking staircase, Ron's curiosity growing as she led him up the steps, their footsteps loud on the polished wood.
Once up, they walked down a short hallway before Hermione halted in front of an open doorway to her left and stood there, peering inside but not making a move to go in.
"Ron, I—" she started before stopping, and when Ron looked into the room, he realized why.
The room was large, a king sized four-poster bed in the middle, but that wasn't where Ron's eyes were focused. Instead, his gaze was fixed on a small wooden crib that was under an open window, its floral curtains fluttering in the breeze.
All of a sudden, it hit him. The reason Harry and Hermione were in a fake marriage. The reason Hermione was nervous, and why she and Harry had both said something about how a lot had happened in the last year. Ron's mouth opened and closed several times, but he was unable to formulate words.
"You— we— what?" he finally stuttered, feeling light-headed.
"We have a daughter, Ron."
"Daughter?" Ron rasped as he grabbed the door frame to steady himself, letting go of Hermione's hand to run it down his face.
Hermione looked alarmed at his reaction, her eyes wet as she bit her bottom lip.
Ron had a multitude of feelings, but the first one was regret. He stepped towards Hermione and took her face in his hands, giving her a soft but passionate kiss, wordlessly telling her that everything was alright. "Oh, love," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you."
Ron felt Hermione's breath of relief against his lips. "Don't apologize for something that was out of your control, Ron. You're here now."
Sniffing, Ron turned and walked further into the room, gulping as his eyes landed on the crib. When he made it there, he grabbed onto the top of the railing and looked down, a small noise of disbelief escaping his throat as he took in the sight of the baby inside. She was wearing a tiny white dress, and her eyes were open as she blinked up at him in curiosity, not making a peep. Ron lifted his hands and wiped the tears from his cheeks, incapable of looking away from the little girl who had small tufts of ginger hair and eyes as blue as his own.
"Her name's Rose," Hermione's voice came from his side, and Ron realized she had stepped up next to him.
"Can I hold her?" he asked, his voice hoarse and emotional. Everything was happening so fast, and Ron could hardly believe it was all real. As if having Hermione back wasn't enough to make him the happiest man on the planet, now he was finding out he had a baby— a little girl who was the result of the most amazing night of his life.
"Of course you can, Ron. You don't have to ask."
Ron reached down, running one of his fingers down the baby's face, letting out a choked laugh when she smiled up at him with a wide toothless grin. He put his hands under her armpits and was about to try and pick her up when he froze— unsure of what to do next. His hands seemed enormous in comparison to her body, and he was suddenly terrified of hurting her.
"I can't," he breathed, pulling his hands away. "I'm not sure how to pick her up."
Hermione gave him a reassuring smile before leaning down and picking up the infant. "That's okay. You have plenty of time to learn," she said as she placed Rose in his waiting arms.
"Hey," Ron crooned as he stared down at the baby, who was again looking up at him curiously. "I sure didn't expect to be meeting you today."
The baby again smiled at him, and Ron smiled back, his insides warming up with affection.
He then looked at Hermione, who seemed to be overwhelmed as she stared at the pair of them. "Am I doing okay?" he asked.
"Better than," she managed before starting to cry in earnest, leaving Ron feeling helpless to go to her as he was still holding Rose.
His torment must have appeared on his face because Hermione was quick to shake her head. "I'm okay, Ron. Really. I just never thought that I would see the two of you together, though I longed for it with every fibre of my being."
Moving Rose so she was secure in the crook of his elbow, Ron walked over and pulled Hermione to him with his free arm. "I can only imagine how hard this must've been for you. Having to do all this without me."
Hermione sniffed. "It was. But I had Harry— Sirius too. Ron, they have been so amazing. I wouldn't have been able to do any of it without them."
"I'm so glad you had them." Ron looked down at Rose cradled in his arm, another wave of incredulousness hitting him. "Hermione, she's amazing. Bloody perfect. Just like you."
Hermione let out a small laugh as she wiped at her eyes. "Me? Look at her, Ron. She looks just like you."
Ron sighed. "Oh fuck, this is so much. If I would have known that you were here...that she was here, I'm sure I would have gone mad in that bloody prison."
Harry then walked into the room, his face lighting up at the sight of the small family.
"Wow," he said. "Fucking incredible."
Ron shot him a smile. "Yeah. Pretty much my mindset right now."
Harry reached out and squeezed Ron's shoulder. "Sirius and I had a talk. We figured you two needed your own space, so he left for the store to get a few things to ready the other room. Have to admit, though, sleeping alone again will take some getting used to."
Ron raised his eyebrows. "You're telling me you've been sleeping with Hermione all this time?"
"Yep. Hermione is a wonderful bedmate."
"You're lucky you're like men, Potter," Ron teased.
Harry chuckled. "You two will be on the other end of the house, in the biggest bedroom other than the master. It's the room right above the machines— will that be a problem?"
Hermione shook her head. "Rose likes the noise, and I do too." She moved her head to look up at Ron. "Is it okay with you?"
Ron scoffed. "Hermione, I'd sleep anywhere with you! Hell, I'd sleep on a wooden door in the middle of the bloody ocean if you were next to me."
"I'll even take Rose tonight," Harry added. "I mean, she pretty much sleeps through the night anyway, and if she wakes up and needs anything, I can just bring her to you. You two deserve a night alone— just the two of you."
Ron looked down at Rose, who was now smiling at Harry. He didn't much fancy the idea of handing her off on his first real night as a parent, but when he thought about spending an uninterrupted night alone with Hermione, he was swayed. Not only that, he still had all day to get to know his baby.
The three of them walked down to breakfast, Ron still holding Rose. They spent the rest of the day together, Ron mainly focused on his daughter as he learned how to take care of her, with Hermione being a patient teacher. When Sirius returned, Ron got to know Harry's godfather as well, instantly liking the man's dry sense of humor. Dinner that night was the best he'd ever had. With Rose in one hand, Ron ate with the other, already a pro at doing things single-handedly. As they all sat around the dinner table, the room filled with excited chatter, Ron realized he'd never been so happy.
oOo
By the end of the night, Sirius was showing them to their new room, Harry waiting patiently for Hermione to feed Rose before he took off to his own room with the sleeping infant. Tomorrow they would move her crib into their room with them, and Ron couldn't wait— he loved her so much already.
But for now…
Ron glanced over at Hermione, who was busy hanging her clothes in the new wardrobe. He walked over to the bed and unbuttoned his shirt, removing it from his body. As he went to grab the shirt and pyjama bottoms Sirius had lent him, he heard a small gasp from across the room, and when his head snapped up, he caught Hermione staring at his naked chest before looking away from him.
He felt mortified as he threw the shirt over his head, his face heating. As quick as he could, he removed his slacks and put on the pyjama bottoms, Hermione not saying a word as he dressed. Ron knew his body didn't look like it had the last time she'd seen him— knew that he looked as unhealthy as he felt. Though it had been only a year, the awful and sparse meals had considerably changed his form, and even if Ron knew for certain that Hermione still loved him, the thought occurred that maybe she was no longer attracted to him as she once was.
Ron started to slowly walk towards her. "I know I'm a lot thinner than when you last saw me," he murmured. "I know it's not what you—"
Hermione shook her head. "No. It's not that, Ron! You're still you, and I—" She paused, biting her lower lip. "It's just that I haven't felt it in so long..."
Hermione trailed off, but Ron didn't need to ask her what she was talking about, because he could tell by her face what she meant, the concept making him feel it too— the feeling almost foreign after so long.
Desire.
"Oh," he mouthed, feeling relieved. Even though Ron knew what they both wanted, he was still unsure if Hermione was ready for anything physical. Because of the emotional and busy day, it was possible she didn't want to do anything more than sleep, and he didn't want to pressure her, no matter how much he longed for her. "Hermione, you know we don't have to do anything tonight, right? Honestly, I'm more than content to lay in bed and hold you. It's been a long day, and I'd understand if—"
Hermione smiled, her face lighting up in adoration as she reached up and caressed the side of his face. "No, Ron. I want you."
"I want you, too," he replied in a gravelly voice, reaching out to grab hold of her hips.
Hermione stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him, Ron responding in kind. If he'd thought he'd loved her before, it was nothing compared to how he felt about her at that moment. On the ship, everything had been forbidden— had been a risk— the danger of being caught together constantly looming over them. Now it was different, and they were free to love each other without restrictions, with nothing in their way.
Ron deepened the kiss, his body both relaxing and coming alive at the same time. He tangled one of his hands into her hair as they made their way over to the bed, again delighted that it felt the same way he remembered. "I love you so fucking much," he whispered before again taking her lips.
He felt Hermione smile against his mouth. "I love you too," she whispered before falling back on the bed, Ron falling on top of her.
When he reached up to pull the comforter down so they could get under it, Ron felt a piece of paper and grabbed it before sitting up to see what it was. It was blank, except for a small message scrawled in the middle.
Ron and Hermione,
Top drawer of the nightstand. Just in case you don't want any more Rose's right now.
-Sirius.
Ron chuckled, crawling off Hermione to open the top drawer of the nightstand, finding a box of condoms. He showed them to Hermione, who flushed.
"They know what we're doing right now," she said, sounding distraught.
Ron placed the box on top of the nightstand and crawled back on top of her, kissing her tenderly. "They don't care, Hermione."
"Well, I know that, Ronald. It's just—"
Ron let out what was almost a whimper as he cut Hermione off with his lips, kissing her harder than he had before. Hermione let out a whimper of her own, pulling him closer, causing him to fully be immersed in a lust induced fog— all of his emotions crashing down on him at once.
Ron needed to feel all of her, to get lost in her.
Nothing else mattered.
Still kissing, it took a while for them to undress each other, but Ron didn't mind. He wasn't in any hurry because he longed to cherish every moment, to appreciate every inch of the woman he loved— the woman he thought he'd lost forever. As he trailed kisses down her neck, Hermione let out a deep sigh, his hands moving up to knead her breasts. They were fuller than he remembered because she was nursing Rose, so he was gentle, not wanting to hurt her. When his hands went lower to the smooth skin of her middle, Hermione let out another sigh, and Ron's body shuddered, trying to keep himself in control.
Moving his head back up to take her lips, one of Ron's hands slid further down and cupped her between her legs. Hermione was now gasping for breath, whimpering his name with a desperation he hadn't heard from her before, her whole body tense underneath him. Ron deepened the kiss, willing for her to calm down. He knew she was overwhelmed, just as he was, but he didn't want her to be too overwrought to not enjoy their first time together after so long.
His fingers lightly moving up and down against her slick center, Ron pushed his forehead to hers. "It's okay, love. I know it's a lot. Just try to relax, okay?"
With his free hand, Ron wiped the tears that were now on her face as she nodded at him in understanding. He gave her a small smile that seemed to further calm her, her body melting into the mattress as she loosened her tense muscles. Not breaking eye contact, Ron pushed one long finger inside of her, Hermione's eyes widening before fluttering shut, a soft moan escaping her lips.
"That's it," Ron murmured. "Relax."
When he added a second finger and moved his thumb over her clit, Hermione arched her back, her hips moving up and down as she rode his hand, her body seemingly at his command. Ron stared down at the scene underneath him, in awe that he could be so goddamned lucky. As he continued, he bent his head down to her ear and whispered encouraging words, telling her how much he loved her, and how empty his life had been without her.
It wasn't long before her legs started to shake, her impending release close, and with one last movement of his thumb and a muttered 'I love you', Hermione let out one long moan, her muscles gripping his fingers as her whole body spasmed. Ron kept on, wanting to prolong the experience for her, only stopping when she pushed his hand away, panting as her body glistened with sweat.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, meaning it wholeheartedly as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Hermione opened her eyes, her brown eyes that were deep and dark with love and want.
Ron kissed her hard on the mouth one more time before hurriedly kissing his way right down the center of her body, showing love to every piece he encountered along the way. Hermione's legs were already shaking again by the time he settled his head between them, and she cried out as his tongue went to work, Ron humming in pleasure as he pressed further. She tasted just the way he remembered, and he wanted every last drop of her.
He relished the way her hands were tugging at his hair, at the sound of every ragged breath she took. When she came for a second time, Ron could almost feel her pleasure as if it were his own, his eyes closing as he felt her bliss. He kissed his way back up, his body flattening hers into the mattress as he kissed her lips.
"Ron," Hermione pleaded, her arms wrapping around his back and pulling him tighter against her. "Please," she added, her legs coming up to wrap around his waist, her back arching up off the bed.
Reaching to his left, Ron grabbed a condom from the nightstand, and sat up to roll it on. Once he was sure it was right, he wasted no time in falling back on top of Hermione, their skin hot wherever they touched.
When Ron thrust into her, Hermione let out a sharp cry, but one look at her face assured him that the cry had been from pleasure and not pain, and Ron began to thrust in earnest, Hermione encouraging him with small sounds that he felt deep within his bones. He closed his eyes, still only half believing that this was really happening.
Hermione was overtaking every one of his senses, and he was happily drowning in her. Over and over they collided, Hermione's hips rising and falling as their bodies fell into a rhythm neither of them had felt since the last time they'd been together. All the pain, all the heartbreak that had plagued them both the last year was going to take time to heal, but together, they would pull through.
"Hermione," Ron panted when it became too much and he couldn't hold back anymore. "I can't—" he didn't finish his sentence, his body exploding in ecstasy as he came. Hermione grabbed him by his hips and pulled him all the way into her, causing Ron to see stars as his orgasm went on and on.
Spent, he rolled off of her, both of their bodies shaking as they lay side by side. Ron pulled Hermione closer to him, and she obliged, laying her head on his chest as he swept the damp curls from her forehead.
"I never thought I would feel that again," she whispered. "That I would feel anything like that again."
Ron let out an incredulous laugh. "Neither did I."
oOo
"And then, the cyclone lifted the entire house!" Ron read in an animated voice.
Rose furrowed her brow and gave him a doubtful look. "That's not even possible! The wind would destroy the house— not pick it up!"
Ron sighed and slammed the book shut. "Okay, smarty pants! Since you're six and you know everything— what book do you want me to read then?"
With a sly smile, Rose pulled out a book from underneath her pillow, and Ron let out a groan. "Again?" he asked as Rose giggled. "Well. I guess if you insist."
"I'm going to tell Mommy you don't want to read her book," Rose warned.
Ron chuckled as he flipped to the first page. "It's Mommy and Daddy's book," he reminded her, showing her the colorful illustrations he'd drawn.
Rose shrugged as she pointed to the cover. "Mommy's name is before yours."
"Yeah, yeah," he laughed. He started to read, Rose falling asleep before he was halfway through.
Bending down, Ron kissed her on the top of the head before walking out and shutting the door behind him. Just as he headed towards his own room, there was a quiet knock and Ron turned, making his way across the house before opening the front door to find Harry standing there.
"Hey!" he greeted before strolling right past Ron into his house. "I have some news."
"Who's here?" Hermione asked as she too walked into the room.
"Your first husband," Ron replied in a dry voice, causing Harry to chuckle.
Hermione laughed as she walked over and embraced Harry as much as her pregnant belly allowed. "We just saw you yesterday!"
"News," Harry said again, his face lit up with excitement. "Guess which children's book has already hit number one on the top sellers' list?'
Hermione gasped. "But it was only released the day before yesterday!"
"Apparently that doesn't matter to your fans. They'll buy whatever you two put out."
"Blimey," Ron muttered. "That's amazing."
Harry nodded in agreement. "Yeah. With Hermione's words and your artwork, you two are an unbeatable team."
"Stop gushing Harry, you'll make me conceited," Ron said as he walked over and placed a kiss on Hermione's cheek. "Good job, love."
"It's not just me, Ron! Your drawings are half the book!" she admonished.
He chuckled. "Okay. Whatever my beautiful wife says."
Hermione rolled her eyes, but Ron saw that sparkle in them— the sparkle that had only gotten bigger since they'd reunited, and it warmed him from the inside out.
"Harry," Ron said as he playfully nipped at Hermione's ear, causing her to let out a small squeak. "I'm going to need you to leave so I can properly ravage my wife."
Harry stared at the pair, a look of disgust on his face. "Don't need to tell me twice. See you tomorrow morning for breakfast?"
Hermione hummed. "We'll be there."
"Alright. I'll start my long journey home," Harry teased as he made his way out, the three of them smiling because he and Sirius lived only four houses down.
They exchanged goodbyes and Harry was gone, leaving Ron and Hermione alone in silence. Hermione walked over and sat down on the sofa, Ron following and sitting down next to her, his hand reaching up into her hair. Hermione bent her head forward and let out a content sigh as his fingers started scratching the back of her head.
"Mmm, your fingers are magic," she hummed.
Ron continued, watching as Hermione's tension left her body. She'd been working hard lately, with three already published children's stories, and now on her first full-length novel. Along with sketching for her books, Ron also worked part time with Harry and Sirius, and life was better than he'd ever thought possible.
"What are you thinking about?" Hermione interrupted his thoughts, her eyebrows raised as she grinned at him. "You stopped scratching, but your hand is still in my hair, and you were staring at the floor with a far off look."
"Just my life, I suppose," Ron answered honestly. "How I still can't believe how it turned out. I have you, Rose, Harry and Sirius." His hand went to her belly and lightly stroked it. "And this one here."
"Me too," Hermione whispered, her hand coming up to rest on top of Ron's. "I wouldn't trade this life for the one I had for anything. That world was cold and superficial. With you, I feel warm, safe, and loved."
"I hope you never doubt how much you are loved, Hermione."
She smiled. "No. Not with you. Never."
Ron bent his head and brushed his lips against hers. "Good."
"And the children," Hermione went on. "I never knew I could love them so much. Sometimes when I look at Rose, I could just cry. I don't understand how my mother could have been so indifferent to my happiness. I would never treat Rose the way my mother treated me."
"You are not your mother, Hermione," Ron assured her. "You are far, far beyond what your mother ever was or will ever be. And I can guarantee that despite her money and her high social status, she's nowhere near as happy as you are. You and I both know she will never have what we have."
Hermione nodded, and Ron knew she understood what he meant. Several years ago, Hermione had heard that her mother had remarried. The news had surprised his wife, and she'd been even more surprised to find out that her mother's new husband was a man by the name of Horace Slughorn. Hermione had apparently met him several times before, and she and her mother had both found the man annoying and barely tolerable to be around. He was a much older man, but he was extremely wealthy, and Hermione knew her mother must have been desperate to marry him.
"Come on. Let's go to bed."
Ron blinked, realizing that Hermione had already stood up and was waiting for him. Smiling, he reached out and took her outstretched hand before standing up himself. Together, they walked into their bedroom, and as the door shut with a 'click' behind them, Ron had the thought that life was a gift, and he didn't intend on wasting it.
