A/N: Thanks to KnifeThrowaStarr, lissy86, and lazyllama101 for their reviews of chapter five.

This chapter is rated M for a reason...

In a private chamber

He was surprised when she kissed him back urgently. Soon they were kissing passionately and their hands wandered over each other.

Ron slid the hand that wasn't trapped under Hermione along her back, stopping right above her bum. They continued kissing and Ron moved his hand boldly down, squeezing when it came to rest on the soft flesh.

Hermione gasped against his lips and pushed on his chest.

"What?" Ron asked. He wondered why she might be uncomfortable considering he had touched her there, and more intimately, before.

"Nothing's wrong," Hermione whispered as she sat up in bed.

Ron was just about to ask her why she had stopped him then when she lifted her nightgown up and over her head leaving her in nothing but panties. Ron stared hungrily at the body that was now almost bare before him and leaned forward to latch onto one of her nipples.

Hermione sank back on to the mattress and moaned in pleasure, thrusting her hands into Ron's hair and holding his head in position at her breast.

As Ron's mouth and tongue continued sucking and licking her nipple, he brought one of his hands up and braced it against her back, forcing her breasts up. His other hand came up and pinched at her nipple, alternating between light and hard pinches.

Hermione's breathing hitched and she moaned rubbing her thighs together as pleasure shot to her core.

Ron groaned in response and moved his head to lavish attention on her other breast.

After spending an equal amount of time on the second breast, Ron slip his mouth down her stomach. His hands came to rest on the waistband of her panties, slipping his fingers under the elastic and then looking up at Hermione for permission. They had never gone this far before.

Hermione met his eyes and nodded her assent.

Ron moaned in response, pleasure building at his groin. As Ron slipped Hermione's panties down her legs and flung them across the room, his eyes came to rest on the flesh that was now, for the first time, bared to his gaze.

During the last Christmas break, while Ron was still, stupidly dating Lavender, Bill and Charlie, had given Ron some pointers about pleasuring a woman in this way. Although he had not done this with Lavender during their three months of dating, he was more than ready to do this with Hermione, who he had only been dating for only half as long.

Ron leaned down and kissed the flesh between Hermione's bellybutton and the brown curls a little further down. His mouth made a path lower until it came to the entrance between her thighs. He gently grabbed her thighs, and, when she didn't protest, pushed them apart making room for his head. From this position, her scent came rushing up to meet him and he breathed it in, his erection growing and pulsing as he not only smell, but see, her desire for him.

Ron slid one of his hands across the top of her thigh, running along her inner thigh, and then, sliding it along the curls and to her entrance. He then slid one of his fingers inside her, rubbing lightly. His brothers had told him about a little knot of flesh, which he began to seek out. They had told him that finding this flesh was important as a girl was unlikely to come if the guy didn't stimulate it.

After a second finger had joined the first between Hermione's folds, one of Ron's questing fingers brushed against something hard yet soft. When his finger brushed against this flesh, Hermione withered around on the bed, clenching the sheets between her fingers and arching her head back on the pillow.

Entranced by Hermione's reaction to what he was doing, Ron decided to go a step further. He withdrew his fingers from her, and just before Hermione had a chance to moan in protest, his tongue took the place of his fingers.

Experimentally, Ron slid his tongue between Hermione's folds, lapping at the hot liquid inside her. He then used his tongue to search again the flesh he had found earlier with his fingers, finding it more easily this time. He hesitantly flicked his tongue across it, happy when Hermione reacted to this the way she had with his fingers.

Trying to recall some of the other things his brothers had told him about this, Ron brought his fingers back to her entrance, pushing two of them inside. He began thrusting them in and out slowly as he circled her clitoris with his tongue.

Hermione's breathing became more shallow and quick, her breasts rising and falling quickly as she grasped Ron's head in one hand, fingers twisting in his hair, and continued grasping the sheets in her other hand.

A few thrusts of his fingers and laps of his tongue and Ron felt Hermione clench around his fingers as she shivered and moaned his name.

After Hermione's moaning died down, Ron kissed his way back up her body, coming to rest beside her on the bed.

Hermione, who was still breathing heavily, smiled up at him, although he was confused to note that her eyes seemed sad. "So, did Lavender teach you that?"

"No!" Ron said a little too loudly. Lowering his voice, he continued, "During Christmas holiday, when Bill and Charlie found out I had a girlfriend, they talked to me about it. But, I never did that with Lavender."

Hermione's eyes brightened and her smile got bigger. "Good." Hermione then reached out and began tugging at Ron's shirt. "You have too many clothes on."

Ron groaned in response and yanked his shirt over his head and they both watched for a second as it went flying across the room to land near Hermione's previously discarded nightgown.

They both turned away from the fallen clothing and met each other's gaze.

Their lips crashed together as Hermione slid her hands across Ron's back and he, in turn, slid both his hands under her arms, bracing himself on his forearms, his body coming to rest on top of her naked form.

Ron groaned as Hermione's soft breasts were pressed tightly against his chest. To make matters worse or better – at this point he still wasn't sure which – for him, his position on top of Hermione brought his erection in close contact with her warm, inviting center and he rubbed and pumped against her trying to alleviate pressure.

But, he was dismayed to realize, it wasn't really helping. Rubbing up against her like that only made him want to do more, and he wasn't sure how much more she wanted to do yet.

He didn't have to wait very long though because a few minutes later Hermione began tugging on his pants.

Ron broke contact with her lips and looked down into her eyes. "Are you sure?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes."

Slowly, afraid that he was wrong and that he had just imagined her answer, Ron pulled his pants down his legs, pushing them to the foot of the bed.

He nestled himself back between her thighs, brushing his lips softly against hers.

"Wait, Ron," Hermione said pushing him away a little to reach for his wand, which had been lying on the bedside table. "Contraception charm." She pointed his wand toward their bodies, whispered some words, and they watched as their bodies glowed for a moment and then returned to normal.

Hermione put down the wand and looked back up a Ron. He took this as a signal to continue and brought his hand down between their bodies, grasped himself and, after a few unsuccessful attempts, found her entrance and pushed in a little.

Hermione gasped in pain and clenched his biceps, her breath ragged in his ear.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked, trying really hard not to thrust deeper into her. He didn't want to hurt her worse than he already knew he had.

Hermione nodded and pushing her hands against his lower back, urged him on.

Ron did as she asked and pushed hard into her, breaking though the barrier. Once he was fully inside her, he tried to lie still – although it was difficult for him to do – waiting for her to adjust to him.

About a minute passed until Hermione brought her legs up off the bed and wrapped them around his waist.

He met her eyes and began thrusting. He only lasted for about a handful of thrusts before he emptied his seed in her, grunting and groaning her name into her ear as he came.

"No! Please don't, Harry. Please," Deidre cried from her position on the ground, looking up at Harry, who was pointing his wand at her, a determined look on his face.

"You have to die, it's the only way," Harry said, his voice calm. Harry turned to Ron and Hermione, both of whom stood less than five feet away, watching the exchange between Harry and the kind old woman who had taken them in without a second thought.

He motioned them over with his head. "Get over here and help. You both promised you would come with me to destroy the Horcruxes and Voldemort, that means you're both going to have to kill."

Ron and Hermione walked slowly forward. Focusing more of his attention on them, and less on the woman sobbing on the floor, Harry noticed that Ron was tense and uneasy and Hermione had tears in her eyes.

This angered him. "Suck it up and get over here! We'll kill her together, on the count of three. One…two…three!"

"Avada Kedavra!" three voices rang out, drowning out the sound of the sobbing woman.

As the spell slammed into Mrs. Dearborn's chest, she screamed one last time, then, nothing.

Harry sat up in bed, gasping for breath. The nightmare still clear in his mind, Harry ran and hand through his unruly hair, and reached over near the bedside table, grabbing his glasses, and shoving them on his face.

Harry, realizing he wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep anytime soon, pushed the covers away from him, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and got up.

He went into the adjoining restroom. Turning on the faucet, Harry cupped his hands under the running water and brought his cupped hands up to get a sip of water. He let the remaining water fall from his hands and back into the sink, then looked up, pausing for a moment to look at his reflection in the mirror.

Harry sighed, and started to walk back toward his bedroom when a thought suddenly jumped into his head.

The mirror…

Harry gasped and ran out of his bedroom, opening and shutting his bedroom door quietly so that he didn't wake the others. Once outside his room, Harry ran down the stairs and shot across the hall into the living room.

He made his way across the room and toward the fireplace, tugging on the same decorative eagle Mrs. Dearborn had pulled hours ago.

Hearing the familiar scraping sound, Harry turned toward the painting, grabbed its wood frame, and pulled.

Just as when Mrs. Dearborn had showed them hours ago, the painting gave way to a narrow doorway. Harry walked through it, making his way down the dark hallway and toward the other stone door.

Once in the small room that held the mirror, Harry walked purposely to it, and stopped in front of it, staring at its clear, smooth glass.

He took a deep breath and requested the mirror to seek someone out.

"Show me Ginny Weasley."

At first, Harry thought the mirror wasn't going to work for him, because nothing seemed to be happening.

Harry let out a sigh born from frustration and disappointment. Just as he turned to go, he saw the glass begin to swirl, just as it had done earlier for Mrs. Dearborn.

Harry jerked back to the mirror and started anxiously, waiting for a glimpse of Ginny.

I really am pathetic Harry thought to himself as he watched the glass swirl. It hasn't even been two months since I last saw Ginny and I already miss seeing her, talking to her. Harry snorted in disgust. Who was he kidding? From the day he, Ron, and Hermione had left to begin the search, he had missed her.

Further thoughts ended as the glass stopped swirling and gave Harry a clear picture of a girl sleeping in a bed.

The trouble was, the girl Harry was looking at wasn't Ginny. He narrowed his eyes, concentrating on her face. She seems familiar, if I could just remember where I saw her before…

Suddenly, Harry's eyes opened wide as he stared in shock at the girl.

Harry spun quickly on his heel and ran to the stone door, down the dark hall, out the door, into the living room, and up the stairs.

He had barely come to stop in front of one of the doors in the hallway before grabbing the handle, twisting violently.

Harry pushed the door open violently, the door crashing against the pink bedroom wall.