Disclaimer – Obviously not mine or I'd currently be working on Book 7 instead of posting fan fic. But special thanks to JK for such colorful characters that seem right at home playing amongst the fields called my imagination.
DEUCES WILDChapter 4 – Getting Trumped
When he finally deposited Neville safely into his own bed and had changed into his rapidly growing too small hand-me-down pajamas, Ron was suddenly hit with the reality that Hermione, the object of his deepest desires, was currently asleep in the bed that he was about to climb into. He hesitated as he returned from the loo and deposited his dirty laundry in the hamper that would be cleared by the house elves at the end of the weekend. He stood momentarily eyeing his roommate's beds and listening to the light (or in Neville's case not-so-light) snores coming from inside the bed curtains. For a split second he wondered if maybe he should just crawl into Seamus' empty four-poster, but he quickly squashed that idea, not only because of the events that had occurred that evening between him and the Irishman, but also because it would raise too many questions if he was found not sleeping in his bed even though it was clearly occupied.
Ron was immensely pleased when he pulled back the curtains to his bed and found Hermione still lying in the same place and position that she had been when he'd placed her in the bed about ten minutes earlier. Ron had never realized how tiny his friend was until he saw her lying on her side, curled into a little ball, taking up only a small portion of surface area. As he climbed in on top of the duvet and settled down lying on his back, he was quite thankful that Hermione was so small because it allowed him to lie comfortably on his back without touching her. It was going to be hard enough sleeping in the same bed as Hermione without actual physical contact let alone with it. He couldn't even begin to image how he would've dealt with the situation had their bodies been touching in some manner.
He pulled the curtain closed, cast a quick Warming Charm on himself since he would be sleeping without the comfort of his warm blankets and then quickly stuffed his wand underneath his pillow with the vial of Hangover Potion, before settling once again on his back. Hermione stirred just a bit but quickly became still once more. Ron closed his eyes and waited for sleep to take him away. After the day he'd had, the horrible detention he'd suffered through and then the events since returning to the Common Room, he assumed that sleep would've taken him right away.
However, about an hour later, Ron remained awake and staring at the canopy of his four-poster. Thoughts of the poker game and seeing Hermione become obviously aroused and his admission to her and then that searing kiss kept replaying over and over in his mind. He constantly found himself having to think of disgusting thoughts, such as Professor McGonagall in the shower and Professor Sprout in her skivvies, to calm his own arousal from the events of the day. The last thing he wanted was for Hermione to wake up and find herself in bed with one of her best mates whom happened to be sporting an erection. He also knew that there was no way that he could deal with his condition in his normal means with said witch in bed with him.
It wasn't until he was being pulled out of a dreamlike state by Hermione starting to shift around on the bed that Ron realized that he had finally fallen asleep. He was just about to contemplate how long he'd actually be out when he felt his bed mate sit up suddenly and then just as suddenly fall back to the bed. This time, however, her body was now touching his. He immediately moved to sit up so that his thoughts wouldn't turn improper.
"'Mione, you okay?"
Ron watched as her brow furrowed and then she shook her head ever so slightly indicating that she wasn't okay. He assumed that she was probably being greeted with one heck of a hangover this morning and probably had opted not to speak for fear of getting sick once again. Ron was quite thankful for her choice of actions. As he was watching for any reaction from Hermione that might have suggested that she was about to get sick, he saw the red splotchy patches of embarrassment begin to appear on her neck and across her cheeks.
'Must all be coming back to her now. Poor thing.' He was just about to ask her if she was sure that she was alright when she finally spoke.
"What time is it?" It was spoken very slowly and quite softly.
Ron pulled back the curtain a bit so that he could see the amount of light that was filtering in through the dorm window. Since there were very little and he could still hear the sleeping sounds of his roommates, he assumed that it was still pretty early in the morning.
"Early. Probably just before six."
Ron looked back at Hermione and frowned at her obvious distress. He then shifted around to retrieve the vial of Hangover Potion out from under his pillow. It only slightly registered to him that this vial was a brighter pink than the potion that he had given to Neville earlier.
He turned back toward his friend and said, "Here." He watched as Hermione slowly opened one eye to see what he was offering her. He smiled when she quickly shut her eye again and then swallowed hard and asked what it was. That was his Hermione…always on guard. 'Well, almost always.'
Ron noticed that when Hermione had lulled her head toward him to inspect the vial that a lock of hair had fallen across her cheek. Without thinking about what he was doing, Ron did the one thing that he had longed to do for ages. He gently ran his fingers over her forehead and down her cheek before pushing that stray bit of hair behind her ear. He quickly pulled his hand away and sat wide-eyed, staring at his hand as if it were something he'd never seen before. He felt the bed shift a little as Hermione shivered a bit and that pulled his thoughts back to the matter at hand.
"Hangover Potion. It'll help, really."
"Where did you get it?"
Ron actually chuckled a bit this time at her questioning the help he had to offer. "Harry and I ordered a vial each when Seamus told us about his little party tonight. I used Harry's on poor Neville and saved mine for you."
"Don't you need it?"
"No, love, I didn't have anything to drink tonight." Ron panicked at his use of an endearment with her and decided that he needed to say something else that would distract her from picking up on it. "One of us had to keep our head clear."
When Hermione groaned from apparent embarrassment, Ron knew that he had succeeded in diverting her attention from his slip of tongue. However, his relief was quickly replaced with guilt for making her feel bad. He could tell by the way she was rubbing her face with her hands that she was trying to scrub away the memories. His only thought then was to help her to feel better, so he slid his hand under the back of her neck and lightly rubbed it as he leaned forward slightly so that he could speak softly to her.
"Come on, Hermione. Please take the potion. It'll make you feel better. I promise."
Hermione's head slowly lulled back in his direction and she slowly opened her eyes. His body suddenly tensed at their close proximity and the image of their lips pressed together came flooding into his mind. He was thankful that she closed her eyes almost immediately thus breaking the connection between them. He was relieved when she finally nodded, indicating that she'd take the potion.
Ron carefully popped the stopper out of the vial with the thumb on his left hand as his right hand, still behind Hermione's neck, began to lift her up so that she could drink the potion. Ron was pleased when he saw a smile come across her face. He knew that the potion had worked and that she was obviously feeling better, at least physically. He stuffed the empty vial back under his pillow and lay down on his side facing her, propped up on his right arm.
He was smiling at her when she once again rolled her head his direction and opened her eyes. He was amused when she suddenly got a far-off look in her eyes. He had to chuckle a bit and give her just a bit of a hard time about the situation.
"Feeling better then, party girl?"
Hermione rolled more toward Ron but only so that she could successfully bury her face into his pillow. He could just barely hear her when she said, "Oh, Merlin, Ron. I'm never going to hear the end of it. What have I done?"
Ron knew that she was embarrassed and didn't want that to move on to distraught and ending up in a repeat of what had happened earlier in the loo. 'Well there is a bit you'd like to replay…but don't go there right now, Weasley.' In order to help diffuse the angsty situation before it began, Ron started soothingly stroking her hair before he tried to offer comforting words.
"Don't worry about it 'Mione. For once you just let go and acted like a normal teenage witch. Just look at last night as the night that the new Hermione Granger was born."
Again, she spoke into her pillow and Ron kindly wished that he hadn't heard what she had said, because it made his heart plummet. He hoped that perhaps he had misunderstood her, but when she had opened her eyes to look at him again, he saw that pain that came from a circumstance with someone you'd know since you were eleven years old forgetting the day that you became an adult in the eyes of the Wizarding law.
"Blimey, Hermione! Why didn't you say anything about it being your birthday?" Her answer was a simply shrug of the shoulders. "I can't believe that Ginny or Harry didn't say anything to me."
Again, her voice was just barely above a whisper when she admitted, "They really didn't remember either."
Ron's brow furrowed in confusion. Now comment he must have misunderstood. "What was that?"
Ron watch Hermione sigh before she spoke in a more confident tone, "They didn't exactly remember it either."
Ron's heart completely shattered for her in that moment. "Oh, 'Mione!" He didn't think twice before he rapidly pulled her body to his and hugged her tightly.
"I'm sorry, love. I really am. I'll make it up to you…we'll make it up to you…I promise."
Ron knew that in his lack-of-sleep state that all the emotions he was currently feeling over what had occurred over the last twenty-four hours had to be written clearing across his face. He was expecting a very Hermione-like comment to be made about his range of emotions or lack there of. However, in no way or form had he been expecting Hermione to suddenly be plundering his mouth with hers, demanding entrance with a very eager tongue, while running her tiny hands under his shirt and over his stomach. To say the least, he was a bit shocked at first; however, it didn't take him long to realize that he was in a position to turn one of his many fantasy about this witch into a reality and quickly became an enthusiastic participant.
Ron was further shocked when he went to place one of his hands on the small of her back and found that his T-shirt that she was wearing had ridden up and he could feel a small patch of bare skin underneath the palm of his hand. Feeling quite brazen and deciding that if Hermione could do it than he could too, he worked his hand further underneath the shirt and began to caress the bare skin at the small of her back.
When Hermione pulled away to catch her breath, Ron quickly pulled her to him and held her close. A part of him was actually scared that the last few moments had been a dream that he was about to wake up from at any second. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest quickly pumping blood to a part of his anatomy that he really wished would stay under control at the moment so that Hermione didn't run screaming from his bed. Ron had just started to catch his breath when she had thrown herself at him again and was pushing her tongue into his mouth once more.
Something feral unexpectedly took over in Ron and he quickly shifted their positions so that Hermione was now lying beneath him and his body lying half on top of her and pushing her into his bed. One of his hands was still buried in her hair, where it had been before he shifted their position, and the other hand was running up and down her side as he was internally debating whether he should cross the line and go to completely uncharted territory.
All of sudden all thought was pushed from Ron's mind, probably from lack of blood because it was all southbound, when Hermione's hands were suddenly inside the back of his pants and gripping at his bare arse. He jumped away from her as if she was on fire for fear of exploding right then and there and not only creating a literal mess but also creating a situation that he didn't want to have to even try to attempt to explain.
"Fuck Hermione!"
For a split second, Ron watched an almost untamed look flash across Hermione's eyes before she was suddenly wide-eyed in shock and was burying her face in her hands.
"Oh, god, Ron. What is happening to me?"
Realization quickly dawned on Ron and he frantically searched under his pillow for the empty potion vial. When he read the vial's label, he swore. "Shite! Oh, those two sodding prats are dead!" He couldn't believe the nerve of those brothers of his. Did they think it would be funny to get little Ronnikins all jacked up and randy as hell after he'd spent a night getting pissed.
He could feel his face turning red with anger and a little bit of embarrassment. He was such a fool for not looking at the vial more carefully when it looked slightly different from the one that he'd given Neville. He continued to stare in shock at the vial, trying desperately to come up with how he was going to explain to Hermione that she was currently experiencing the effects of a Hangover Potion laced with a Lust Potion.
Ron was pulled from his thoughts when he heard Hermione question where they, him and Harry, had gotten their potions. Ron gritted his teeth when he answered that it was his twin brothers.
He couldn't take the humiliation of the situation anymore. He quickly sat up, pulled his knees up toward him and hung his head between his knees. "Bloody hell, 'Mione. I am so sorry."
"Why?"
He couldn't bear to answer with words so he just handed her the empty vial. She could read it for herself. Had the situation, once again, been different he would've had to laugh at his proper Hermione swearing when she said, "Oh shite," under her breath, apparently after reading the label of what she had just ingested.
He just knew that Hermione would be furious with him, assuming that he had given her the Potion with the purpose of taking advantage of her while she was in his bed. When Hermione hadn't said anything else or made any movements, Ron risked looking over his shoulder at her. She was still holding the vial with her eyes darting rapidly over the label. When her eyes filled with tears, he couldn't bear to look at her any longer so he once again hung his head between his knees and returned to pulling at his hair.
"I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm so sorry." He continued to repeat over and over in a voice just above a whisper.
Ron felt the bed begin to shift with Hermione's movements, and he assumed that she was preparing to leave. Hell, if he was her, he'd want to get as far away as possible from his perverted self. He jumped when he felt her press her front against his back and work her left arm around his waist, bring her hand to rest across his stomach.
"Ron, it's okay. We can fix this." Her mouth was very close to his ear, so her voice was soft and her breath was warm against his skin.
He slowly turned his face toward her and began to ask what she meant by 'fix' it, when once again her lips were on his. However, this time the kiss was soft and sensual and slow, nothing like the heated kisses that they had just shared. When she slowly ran her hand up his back and into his hair, he was the one to deepen the kiss even though the pace was still slow. He moaned into her mouth when her other hand had worked its way to his thigh and caressed it gently before pushing on it gently so that he lowered it to the bed, with the other following suit. Ron was so lost in the feel of her lips and her tongue that he didn't even realize that Hermione had shifted around so that she was now straddling his thighs until she rolled her hips toward his and their groins came in contact.
Ron threw his head back in ecstasy and he moaned, rather loudly, "Oh, god, Hermione!" He was torn between pushing her away and pulling her closer when he was startled by the voice of one of his roommates filtering in from outside the curtain.
"Dammit, Weasley! Rule 27!" Dean Thomas sounded annoyed even though he sounded drowsy as well.
"Shite!" Ron swore under his breath. "Sorry mate," he said a little louder before he quickly twisted to retrieve his wand from under his pillow and cast the standard sealing and silencing charms on his curtains before he let his head hit his pillow and covered his face in embarrassment. He knew that he was never going to hear the end of it from Thomas. His roommates had needed to remind Ron repeatedly to use the Charms when he needed to take care of business when they were younger that it had almost become habit to him to just cast them automatically when he crawled into bed; however, he had been more than distracted this evening.
Ron became nearly mortified when he opened his eyes to find Hermione still sitting straddling his hips with a sheepish smile spread across her face. He wasn't even surprised when the question came, because with Hermione, he expected nothing less.
"Ron, what's Rule 27?"
Again Ron closed his eyes and covered his face. Through the palms of his hands, he spoke, "Well, you see, ever since first year us blokes have come up with various rules to live by in order to remain a happy group." He really hoped that explanation would be sufficient, but again, he knew that he couldn't expect avoidance of the actual question to slip by Hermione.
"I see."
Ron was just beginning to think that maybe he had been wrong about his Hermione, when he felt her shift on top of him until their private areas were now in more contact and she was lying on top of his chest. Ron moaned as she gently rolled her hips again before ceasing her actions and speaking.
"And what is rule number 27?"
Ron decided to feign ignorance and kept his mouth closed. When she didn't press the matter and ask again, Ron assumed that Hermione, thankfully, wasn't up for a fight. Then she rolled her hips again, succeeding in rubbing her knicker covered center with his cloth covered erection, not once but three times in a row.
He quickly grabbed her hips to still her and said, "Fuck, Hermione. You have got to stop that!"
Her smile had a wicked quality to it that could've rivaled either one of the twins. "Then tell me what Rule 27 is."
Ron closed his eyes again, took a deep breath and then said, "A bloke will always cast a Silencing Charm around his bed when he is…er…"
Hermione's voice was very breathy when she asked, "When he's what, Ronald?"
"Wwweenking." He made sure to mumble the word as much as possible.
Ron nearly came when she leaned forward and ran her tongue around his ear before asking, "What was that, love?"
Starting to feel agitated, aggravated and highly aroused, he nearly screamed, "Wanking, alright! Always cast the charm when we're wanking!"
Ron didn't know whether he was hurt or relieved when Hermione suddenly pulled away from him and sat up. Embarrassment began to converge on Ron with a vengeance, so once again he covered his face with his hands. He took two deep breaths and let them out slowly before he felt Hermione's tiny hands take hold of his and pull them away from his face.
"And why would Dean think that was what you were doing? Do you call my name out often?"
Again Hermione had a smirk plastered across her face so he decided that she had done enough teasing and it was time for him to take control of the situation and shock her for once.
"Always."
Ron had hoped to at least embarrass her with his admission. However, with the way the morning was transpiring, he shouldn't have been shocked when she once again launched herself at him, attacking him with her lips and her hips. Part of him just wanted to let go of all his inhibitions as well, flip her over and start pounding her into the bed, grinding his erection against her center until he found his messy release. Nonetheless, it was his more rational side that took control of the situation, knowing that his friend was not herself, and quickly pushed her off of him.
"Bloody hell, Hermione! You have got to stop that before things get out of control."
"Out of control, Ronald! Out of control! You are not the one who's currently on a bloody Lust Potion!" She shouted nearing tears.
Again, his heart broke at once again hurting his best friend. He sat up and went to pull her in a comforting hug when she smacked his hand away and said, "No Ronald!" He respected her request and leaned away from her.
"I'm sorry, 'Mione. I just don't know what to do to fix this."
"Bliss me."
Ron did a double take and looked at her in shock. She surely couldn't still possibly be suggesting that they… "What?"
Hermione got up on her knees and was shifting around on the bed. Ron was readying himself for another attack and actually chuckled a bit at the fact that he would've never thought he'd be in a position where he'd actually be worried about the witch of his deepest and naughtiest fantasies throwing herself at him.
Ron was pulled from his thoughts when Hermione suddenly stopped moving and was thrusting the empty vial at him. "See, Ron. It says that the potion's effects will wear off either after twenty-four hours or once you've been blessed. So bliss me, Ronald, because I cannot go through today in this condition!"
Ron was shocked that Hermione's bossiness was suddenly present. Later in life he would look back on this moment and laugh at the fact that his prim and proper love was ordering him to give her an orgasm. He quickly came to his wits and tried to diffuse the situation, because he wanted more than anything to be with Hermione, he just wanted it to be genuine and not alcohol or potion induced.
He was shaking his head as he said, "Hermione, we can't. I can't do that to you. I don't want to take advantage to you and that's what it would be."
"No it wouldn't, Ronald. It would be helping me, one of your best friends, out of a very embarrassing and difficult situation."
Ron was trying desperately to come up with a logical argument that a near hysterical Hermione would accept when she suddenly shifted on the bed again, only this time toward the edge away from him and said, "Well, maybe Seamus would be willing to rise to the occasion."
Ron could literally feel the nerve that was controlling his willpower snap and something completely untamed took over. He grabbed Hermione and pulled her to him and threw her to the bed so that he was looming over her.
"Over my sodding dead body!"
Then his lips were devouring hers.
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