Chapter 23
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or his magical world. If I did, I would be making a killing off this little piece of plot, not just putting off working on my research paper. Alas, I am but a poor college student trying to remain sane whilst trying to escape the white cinder block walls of the dorm room. Why do I have to have a final on the last day? All but one of my friends is going home that Friday. But no, I have an exam on Monday. (grumbles)
A/N: Sorry about the rant. Please review. You have no idea how much they mean to me. Thanks to all my dedicated reviewers: jwoods471, JohnCardy87, Jo Mesi Marie, thesongremainsthesame, Rain Date Chick, Neurotic Newt, Borrow-the-moonlight-until-it-is-through, et. al. If I forgot you, do tell, and I'll post your name next chapter. Sorry, but finals have turned my brain into the nasty gruel that Oliver Twist wants more of. Bear with me.
Oh, sorry about this chapter being so long. However, I think everyone will be satisfied with the end. hint hint
Hermione got to the shrieking shack a full hour early. Just in case. Of course, even though her letter insisted Ron be on time, unless Ron had changed drastically, he would be late. However, she knew she needed time to think.
She still loved him. She had only realized a few hours prior, but it still hurt. Hurt. She wasn't sure how he felt about her. After all, things had been awkward the last time they'd talked before she'd left England. And thinking about that hurt too.
Thinking was a dangerous pastime. Memories had been her constant companions over the years, keeping her sane. Dealing with twins was difficult, but dealing with them on her own was downright depressing. She knew a lot of it was her fault, but still…
Remembering happy times was so much easier. The night she'd become friends with Harry and Ron. Ron had made fun of her after her know-it-all behavior in charms, effectively breaking her heart, though she hadn't realized it until many years later. She had hidden in the bathroom and cried her eyes out. Then the troll had come in. She had been completely terrified until the two boys had barreled in. When Ron had mastered the levitation charm, she had lost her heart. And she realized it then and there.
Being one of his best mates was difficult. She became invisible. Not that he couldn't see her, mind you, but that he couldn't see her as a girl. It took the Yule Ball and Viktor Krum to make him see that. And he still hadn't done anything about it. Except rip the arm off his Viktor Krum model, as Harry had told her years later.
Then there was that night. Ron had come home to ashes and a nonexistent family. The Burrow gone…it was just wrong. But Ron had laughed bitterly and said the Burrow wouldn't be right without all the Weasleys in it anyway. Then she'd gotten her owl. He went with her, somehow knowing that the news would be bad.
At least her house was still there. But it was a wreck. Everything was broken in two. Including her parents' bodies. Ron pulled her away from the bloody bodies and held her tight against her chest.
"Oh, Ron. It's all my fault that they're dead."
"Shh. No, it's not. Voldemort is going to go after all the muggle borns eventually. He just hit you first because, well, you're Harry Potter's best mate. As am I."
"But it hurts." She was beginning to sob uncontrollably.
"Yeah, I know. Thank Merlin Ginny was tailing us. And Dad and George…" he trailed off as she began to sob harder. "Oh, Hermione, you know you're a part of my family, don't you? You didn't lose everything."
She looked up at his big blue eyes and sighed. "But I will. Eventually."
And then he had kissed her. Merlin, she'd have to thank Lavender later. It was wonderful. He tasted of sweat and chocolate frogs and firewhiskey. It was completely intoxicating, and she knew the liquor wasn't enough to do that.
He pulled away first. "Bloody hell, Hermione. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. It's just—emotions—you know?"
Hermione put a hand on his mouth. "Yeah. I know. Pent-up emotions we both should have gotten off our chests eons ago." Then she kissed him into silence.
She couldn't remember where they'd gone, to be perfectly honest. She thought it was probably her bedroom, but her mind was so clogged over with lust, grief, and love that she couldn't see properly.
And he had loved her.
But like all things, love ended. Hermione was still standing in the shrieking shack, and it was a quarter past eight. Not only was he late, he was insultingly late. Ronald Bilius Weasley was in BIG trouble. When he got here. If he got here. Bloody tosser, not even sending her an owl telling her whether or not he was coming. Well, he was getting his just desserts. She disapparated with a huff.
She popped into the kitchen of the Weasley flat. She immediately felt her anger desert her. It was dark and completely deserted. "Ron? Fred? George? Ginny? Mr. Weasley?" No one answered.
She started contemplating where Ron could be. What if he was lying somewhere bleeding to death? What if he was in trouble? What if Fred's captors had returned and taken them somewhere? What if—
Then she heard the pop in the living room, followed by a loud sigh. A very familiar sigh.
She peeked into the next room and saw a tall, lean redheaded man looking through some magazines. "I know it's here somewhere," he muttered. "Aha!" he cried, pulling out a rather shabby one. "Here we go. Okay, now for the clothes."
He made to walk down the hall, but never got that far. Hermione picked up a butter knife and launched it at the back of his thick head.
"Ouch! Hey! Who's there?"
"Ron—Bilius—Weasley—you—are—in—so—much—trouble!" she cried, running up to him and swatting at him. "Where were you? I was beginning to think you were dead!"
She was exasperated when she saw Ron's dazed expression. "Where was I? Why?"
She shot him an evil glare. "You didn't show up."
Ron was now the exasperated one. "For what?"
"Our appointment. The owl I sent you. Remember?"
"No. I didn't get a letter from you, Hermione."
Her eyes flashed with fury. "Oh, very clever, Ron. Getting back at me for ignoring yours?"
"No, but that's a bloody good idea. If I had gotten it, maybe I would have."
"I wanted to talk about important things, okay?"
"Well, I'm sorry, but I was busy. I had to take Fred to St. Mungo's. He decided to go nutters on me too!"
Hermione looked up at Ron's flushed face. "Really? So that's why no one was here."
"Yeah. I came to look for clothes and reading material. The healers want to keep him there for a while. And they're trying for Ginny again."
"Oh Ron…"
"Don't pity me!" Ron cried. "I'm tired of pity. It's all I get anymore."
Hermione looked like she'd been slapped. "Well, excuse me. I was trying to help. But I forgot that you may be more mature than the Ron I remember, but you are just as pigheaded."
"And you're just as bossy."
"Arrogant…"
"You know you could never really call me that."
Hermione sighed. "True. Stubborn, foul…"
"Oy! You called Malfoy foul!"
"Always interrupting, disrupting my concentration."
"You always interrupted mine."
Hermione opened up her mouth to hurtle something back, but Ron pulled her close and silenced her.
Merlin, she'd missed his kisses. Except this one was a little different. It was still sweet, but it was desperate. She hungrily kissed him back.
When he pulled away, he looked at her, a question in his eyes. So she stood up on tiptoes and kissed him again.
Relief washed through his features. He grabbed her around the waste and pulled her close to him. Hermione even thought she heard him growl.
Soon the two were tearing at one another's clothes, trying to rid themselves of all the boundaries between them. It was Hermione's turn to growl as she tore Ron's shirt off, the buttons flying in every direction.
"I liked that shirt," he laughed against her lips.
"I'll buy you a new one."
Ron didn't answer. He was too busy trying to tear off her jumper while maneuvering her back to his bedroom. He didn't succeed. No, the two tripped over each other and fell down in the hall.
"Ouch," Hermione said crossly, rubbing her back. "Thanks for that, Ron."
"Sorry. I guess I just got a little carried away."
She snorted. "A little?" Then she grinned wickedly, pouncing on him and pinning him beneath her. "You're mine."
"Now, if I remember correctly, the bedroom was the one place you didn't like to have control."
She slapped him playfully. "Maybe my tastes have changed."
"You mean maybe you don't like redheaded prats anymore? Well, maybe I don't like bushy-haired know-it-alls anymore."
Hermione smiled slyly. She ran a hand down his chest to his trousers. "Something tells me that's not true."
"Okay, I'm caught. I say let's go somewhere more comfortable than this bloody hall."
"Language."
"Oh, come off it. I know you like some language in your life. You aren't the prude you like to think you are." As she scowled at him, he pushed her off of him and got to his feet. "Come on, Mione."
She got up gingerly and followed him to the bedroom, leaving her jumper and his shirt behind. He was waiting for her, grinning mischievously. "What do you have planned?"
"Seduction."
She laughed. "You don't even have to try. I'm yours for tonight."
"Where are the girls?"
"With Tonks and Remus. We were supposed to have a meeting, remember?"
"Oh. Right. Well, let's get on with it, shall we?"
He came over to her and sealed her lips with his. Merlin, he tasted good. "Ron," she sighed.
He reached behind her and began to slowly unzip her skirt. "Are you sure?"
"Yes Ron. Just shut up and shag me."
"Yes, Miss Bossy."
Soon all their clothes were discarded and they tumbled onto the bed.
"I've missed you, Ron. There hasn't been anyone else."
He looked at her in surprise. "Really?"
"Yeah. I had the best, Ron. Why would I want to settle for second best?"
He began to caress her. "My sentiments exactly."
"Big-headed are we?"
"No, Mione. There hasn't been anyone else for me either."
If she hadn't loved him before, she certainly loved him then. She opened her mouth to tell him, but then he began to kiss all of her, so her words were loss to pleasure.
Even if it didn't last, even if this was all she'd ever have of him, she'd take it. Soon they were joined as one, and Hermione began to cry with the power of it. He was gentle and caring; the same Ron she remembered. Even if he was different in so many other ways.
A/N: Oh wow. That was the hardest chapter to write. It's hard to write sex scenes without either making them porn or sappy. I hope I found a respectable balance, with sappy slightly winning, of course. And then there's the fact that people I know and respect read this. I hope you enjoyed it. If it wasn't graphic enough for you, go to They have the bedchamber with NC-17 fics.
REVIEW!
Oh, and thanks to all of you that wished me luck with my finals. I'm just glad that one is over. Tomorrow is math, so next chapter MIGHT be posted tomorrow, but don't hold your breath. I haven't written it yet. I've been about 5 chapters ahead for so long, but this one took me 3 days, and I haven't touched my story since I completed it two days ago. Sorry. I hope to have the story completed by Christmas, but you know how things go. Sorry about that in advance. Love ya! bardlover