A/N: Thank you for the reviews everyone, I really appreciate them. I've been planning how I'm going to finish this story, and right now, I'm thinking it's going to be 13 chapters in length. I'm not completely sure, but somewhere around there. Anyway, I hope you guys are enjoying the story; I personally can't wait to finish it.

PS- I'm not sure if this chapter is very good. The major scene in this story is in Ron's POV, and I have no idea what goes through a male's head during that stuff. I tried, though. In fact, I asked one of my best guy friends how that stuff felt for him. You know how awkward that was? I still blush at the memory!

And yes, this chapter is graphic, but that's why this story's 'Mature.'

Secrets

Chapter VIII: The Decisions Made

After she tells me that she wants me, there's no doubt in what we're about to do, but still, we stare at each other for a few moments, thinking about it all.

Should I? Should I sleep with her again? Should I lay my friendship with Harry on the line again? Do I risk losing him once more to be able to be with Hermione?

You already lost him.

No I haven't. I haven't lost him. We haven't lost him yet. If we play our cards right, he'll forgive us, won't he? He has to.

He doesn't. And he won't.

Yes he does. And he will. If we do everything right, if we come clean and if we don't hurt him any more than we have to, he'll forgive us.

Perhaps, but sleeping with her once more isn't very helpful.

No. It certainly isn't. Having sex with her again wouldn't help matters very much when the point of letting Harry in on the secret comes around. I can just picture myself telling him that I didn't know what I was thinking when she asked me if I was willing to do this the first time, and then letting him know that it wasn't just once that this happened. I'd seem like a liar. A pathetic liar who betrays his friends without thinking twice.

Hot breath sinks into my chest, and I look down to see Hermione, who has buried her face in it. I stroke her hair gently and smile slightly, despite of myself.

Just take her.

I breathe in slightly as these words silently form in my head. Could I really just. . .just. . .take her? Just like that?

Of course.

I swell at this thought.

And why the hell shouldn't I? I loved her before any other guy did, including Harry! I've wanted her for a longer time than Harry could ever claim, and I've wanted her more than he could ever say. His feelings for her could never compete with mine.

He knows that.

But of course he knows! How can he not? All of my brothers have teased me about Hermione for years, even after she was dating Harry. If they could sense something, Harry surely would as well. I mean, come on. Harry may not be my brother by blood, but he's become more of a brother to me than any of my others. I've spent more time with him over the last seven years than any other person, excluding Hermione. If anyone could catch something funny about my feelings, Harry would have been the first.

I can feel my breathing getting heavier as all these thoughts pour into my mind. I feel myself getting angrier and angrier with every word.

Because if Hermione was stolen from anyone by a friend, it was Harry that stole her from me. Just because she and I were never official doesn't make his actions any more justifiable than my actions were when I slept with her the first time. The fact of the matter remains: he knew I loved her, he watched me look at her every day, watched me try to say something on several occasions, and then in one, swooping minute, he took her from me.

He took all the possibility I had of being with her just like that. Like it was nothing. And then he announced it with that big grin on his face, and I had no choice but to smile. I mean, what was I supposed to say? "You stupid traitor, she's mine and you can't have her"? No. That'd have been stupid.

Besides, how would I have been able to prove that he knew how I felt? It's not like I had the power to read Harry's mind. It's not like I could have pointed out one of his specific thoughts and make him squirm.

I sigh, and feel Hermione look up at me with a tortured expression. "So what are we doing?" she asks, sounding a little scared.

Looking down at her, my mind makes its resolution in one short second.

We're doing what we want to do, that's what. Without thinking too much, I lean down and kiss her gently on the lips.

C(U)RR(E)(N)(T)(L)(Y)

As she lays down on the bed, I start to unbutton my shirt. I breathe several times, and glance down at her, expectant. I can't believe I'm going to do this again. I thought I was too lucky to do this the first time. And now, here I am, about to repeat it.

I take off my shirt, and lean down to kiss her. She smiles and puts her hands around my neck. We kiss slowly for a while. I feel fire going through me with the contact. This is so much better than the first time. I know she wants me now.

She's breathing deeply beneath me, and she's caressing my neck and cheeks softly. My lips are taking in hers with slow motions. We continue like this for a while, and then stop. I place my head on her chest, and close my eyes.

I can feel a tickling sensation as she massages my hair. As I lay here, feeling calm and completely bliss, I think about how lucky I am. This is the first real time that I'm about to make love to a girl that I'm completely in love with, and know that she feels the exact same way. I can't describe the feeling. It's like. . .this relief and, I don't know. . .happiness. Like that nothing and nobody else in the world can make you feel any better than this.

She starts feeling my body. Her hands run over my back, my arms, and sides. I shiver slightly as she does this, and grin mildly, feeling a little pleased with my physique. Working out does have its advantages.

After a few moments I sit up, and so does she. I kiss her on the lips gently once more and start to unbutton her blouse. I look at her face as I do this and smile. She looks so calm and ready for me. After I finish with the buttons, I slip the garment off her body and begin to unhook her bra. When I had done this the last time, I'd been pretty surprised that her body turned out to be so. . .feminine, but now, I think every part of her physique is equally as impressive.

After the cloth is taken off her, I put my arms around her waist and pull her close to me. I gently start to kiss her neck, and she puts her arms around mine and moans. She buries her head in my shoulder as I continue placing kisses all over her neck. I start to stroke her hair with my fingers, just savoring these moments.

We start to kiss again, very passionately now. Our lips and tongues are working very quick, with heated emotion. My whole body starts to feel very hot, very quickly, and I can feel my soldier down there beginning to get very excited.

I lie down on my back and she places herself on top of me. She starts to kiss my chest and stomach, taking her time after every kiss she places on me. I look down at her, and smile again. She seems so full of. . .love right now. It makes me feel so warm and kind of stupid inside.

I still can't believe she loves me just as much as I love her. It seems like a dream. After all these years of being just a sort of faraway admirer, it turns out that all those times I've had to watch her kiss Harry, she was wishing that was me. Or has she loved me for that long? I wonder. . .

My thoughts are interrupted as Hermione starts tugging on the zipper of my jeans. She pulls it down and starts to struggle with taking my pants off. I sit up and takes off my shoes to help her out, then lie down again. She pulls off my pants and boxers and leans down.

She looks up at me bashfully, and I can see her face starting to turn a little red. "I don't know how to do this too well." she says, "I've never done it before."

"It's okay," I say reassuring, "you don't have to if you don't feel like it."

"No," she says, shaking her head, "I want to."

I nod at her and smile. She leans down and I close my eyes. Slowly, I feel as Hermione takes me in with her mouth. Pleasure starts to fill me as she licks and maneuvers her tongue around my. . .well, you know.

Admittedly, it seems that she feels awkward as she does it. Her tongue is fumbling and she starts over very often. Still, it doesn't matter, because I know she's doing it to please me. I put my hand over her head and start to massage her as she continues doing this. After a little while, she begins to get used to the process a little, and seems to be concentrating more.

A moan escapes me. It really does feel good, no matter if she has little experience or not. Realistically, girls like Olivia Burke knew exactly what to do to make me scream, and they knew how to do it better than Hermione, but none of them made me feel like this. So wanted. Like I actually mattered to them. I hear Hermione moan a barely audible moan and open my eyes.

"You okay?" I ask.

She nods, though she looks slightly bothered. A thought suddenly enters my head as I remember, and I almost slap myself.

"It's alright if you don't want to do it anymore," I tell her, "I know it isn't all that pleasurable for girls."

She smiles slightly, though she looks a little disappointed. She sighs and shrugs a little. "No, to tell the truth it isn't that nice," she says. "But I want to do it to make you feel good."

I shake my head and sit up. "No, forget it."

She frowns a little and looks down. "I bet Olivia and Lavender knew how to do it good." she mumbles. "I bet they liked it."

I sigh. "Forget about them 'Mione," I say, kissing her on the cheek.

"I just wish I knew more." she says, a little unhappily. "I want to show you how much I love you, and I want you to enjoy it."

I grin, despite of what she's saying. "Hermione, I am enjoying this. You make me feel better than those two ever made feel."

She's quiet for a little while, then looks up and meets my eyes, looking a little embarrassed. "Yeah?" she asks quietly. "You're not just saying that?"

I take her hands and look at her firmly. "I completely mean it," I say fiercely. "Forget about experience, that's not what matters to me. I've wanted you for too long to care about that."

She smiles, still seeming slightly abashed, then leans forward kisses me hard. I pull her close to me, and kiss her back just as hard. She groans and I moan, as we do this. Her lips are crashing against mine with such intensity, and she's maneuvering her tongue with such perfection, I have to try a little to keep up. I put my hands on her face and kiss her deeper.

It feels as though we're both venting out years of bottled up emotion into each other. I want to get closer, and she scrambles onto my lap and pulls me by the shoulders as close to her as I can get. We kiss and lick and nibble our lips for quite a while, but with every second I feel like I need to get closer, but we cant possibly get any closer. Frustration is creeping into me.

Sweat is starting to drench from our bodies. I feel wetness and stickiness on her face and on both our chests. My arms and her arms are extremely hot, and drops of moisture are forming with more and more speed.

I start to kiss her neck in desperate attempt to get the needed euphoria. She leans her head back as I do this, and I feel myself getting hard at the intense and tortured expression on her face.

My lips start to make their way down to her breasts and I start to kiss them. I place pecks on every inch of her skin, and then take in her nipple to suck on it. Hermione starts to moan and begins clinging closer to me. I start to get harder and harder at the sound of her voice, imagining what her face looks like right now as I do this.

I play with her nipple using my tongue for a while and open my eyes. I watch Hermione, who looks like she's torn between deciding whether she's in heaven or hell. She gasping and panting, and has her other breast enclosed in the grip of her hand. I continue to observe her, and liquid starts to escape from down under.

I make my way up to her neck again and kiss her while my hands start to fumble with her skirt. She gets up in order to allow me to off the piece of clothing, and I pull it off. She lays down and takes off her knickers.

I place myself next to her and smile. Carefully, I place my hand on her area and start to massage it slowly with my finger, making circular motions. She closes her eyes and moans as I do this. Her forehead creases slightly into a small frown and her mouth opens halfway. The pleasure on her face is clear with every stroke I make and I find myself getting increasingly turned on by her expressions and sound of her voice. It's amazing what looking at an aroused woman will do to a guy. Especially if she happens to be the girl of your dreams.

I start to work her faster, and her breaths become shorter and faster, her frown gets deeper, and her moans come out more frequent and with a more tortured note in them. My hand starts to become very sticky as liquid starts to escape from her. She bites her bottom lip as I start to slow down, and I feel myself getting harder than ever.

I take my hand out of her and she breathes slowly for a little while. She opens her eyes and looks at me with a very satisfied expression. I lean in a kiss her softly on the lips for a moment and then smile.

We look at each other for a little while, thinking. Right now, it feels as though Harry doesn't even exist. It feels as though everything we're doing is completely right. It's ours. This whole experience is ours. Our feelings belong to us and only us. And Harry should have never butt in. He shouldn't have interrupted something he obviously knew he was interrupting. Anger ignites in my stomach as the thoughts of him purposely taking Hermione from me return to my head.

Why did he do that? He knew I loved her. Why would he take her from me? He didn't love her. I did. I do.

"You okay?" she asks, placing a hand on my cheek.

I nod. "Yeah, I'm fine."

And after a few more kisses, we do it. We have sex. And nothing has ever felt so sweet.

(T)(H)(e)-(B)(U)RR(O)(W)

I've been at the Burrow for four days now, celebrating Christmas. The holidays have never felt so strange. Since I wasn't here for long during the summer, I haven't really had the chance to observe the way my family has been after the war with Voldemort ended.

Everyone seems very at peace with everything. Mum and Dad are being more romantic with each other, and behaving very jolly all the time. They go around kissing all of us and trying to talk to everyone about current events and life and vacations. Dad's gotten a promotion at work, so he's very happy that he can get us presents more desirable than the ones we used to get. We're very happy with that as well. The atmosphere has just been nice.

Of course, it's also been very awkward at times. This is the first Christmas we've spent together after Percy's death. Every now and then, someone will bring up his name or remember some funny old story in which Percy was involved. Mum always seems close to tears at the mention of him, and bustles out of the room whenever the situation arises. Dad always looks tense, and is quick to change the subject.

I think it's hard on all of us. Percy's memory, I mean. He was on such bad terms with this family when his time had come. I don't think anyone here can say that they don't regret being angry with him. I mean, he was Percy. Weren't his actions very expected? He had always been the overly-ambitious and blinded-by-glory idiot that he had been when he had chosen to stick with the wrong people.

He didn't do it to be evil, or to help evil. He did it because he was stupid and gullible. Hey, it was his personality. Can't fault him for it.

But nobody wants to talk about it. I wonder if we ever will.

The days have also been strange because Ginny and I are still refusing to talk to each other, and whenever someone asks if we got into a fight, neither of us says anything; we just look away moodily. I think she actually told the family something because for the last two days people have been looking at me a little suspiciously. Maybe it's because I'm responsible for Harry not being here, which I think they resent me for.

But maybe it's because I've been lost in thought all the time. Usually, I'm all outgoing and loud and obnoxious during the holidays, but this time I've been all reserved and have kept to myself.

I can't help it. Five days ago I found out that the girl I'm in love with is in love with me. I also slept with said girl not that long ago. What the hell am I supposed to think about? Presents? No.

All that's been on my mind is Hermione. How long has she loved me for? Does she love me as much as I love her, or do I love her more? Did she ever love Harry? Does she think there's any hope for us?

I have all these questions for her, and I want answers. I don't want to write them in a letter, either. I want to talk to her face to face. . .

I've been thinking about Harry too. I wrote him a get-well/apology letter along with his present, and he wrote back a very vague "It's okay" kind of thing and sent me a very small box of Chocolate Frogs, which is strange because he had told me that I would be receiving a great gift this year and that he couldn't wait until I saw it.

Which means he's still mad at me.

And I'm mad at him.

Every time I think about how he stole Hermione from me, I feel like punching someone. What kind of friend is he? He deliberately took someone I was in love with, while he didn't even feel that way about them. Who does that? I mean--

My thoughts are interrupted as someone knocks on my bedroom door.

"Ron?" It's Charlie.

"Come in." I say.

The door opens, and in comes my big brother. Charlie looks much better this year. He's cut his hair (much to Mum's relief), and he looks surprisingly more handsome this way.

I look at his face and notice that he's wearing a serious expression. "What's up?" I ask.

He sits down on the foot of my bed, facing me. He sighs. "I need to talk to you." he says.

I sit up, a little anxious. He seems to have something important to say.

"Okay," I say slowly.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush, Ron," he says. "The whole family's been a little worried about your behavior these past few days."

I roll my eyes. "I'm fine--"

"I asked Ginny if she knows what's wrong with you, and she told me that she thinks you and Hermione are having an affair behind Harry's back," he says in a rush.

My eyes widen slightly as I hear him say this. I can't believe Ginny.

"Is it true?" he asks anxiously.

I look away from his gaze. Ginny did this on purpose. She knows that I can't lie to Charlie. She knows that even if I tried to lie to him, he wouldn't believe me. I sigh. But maybe it would be good to talk to someone about it. . .

"Before you say anything," he says, "I just want you to know that no matter what, I'll have your back."

I'm silent for a few moments, and then I mumble, "It. . .it's true."

I look up at him and am surprised to find that he has a very knowing, yet weary expression on his face.

He sighs and puts his face in his hands.

Suddenly I feel angry. "You said you'd have my back!" I say defensively.

He glances at me. "I do," he says. "It's just that I always wondered when this would happen."

I raise my eyebrows. "So you're telling me you expected this?"

He nods. "Always. You and Hermione have had feelings for each other since, what, age twelve? And she went tied herself up in a relationship she hated with the worst possible person she could."

I'm speechless.

"I always wondered what she was thinking, getting herself into a relationship with Harry, all the while fully knowing how she feels about you." he says this, shaking his head. "So tell me, what happened?"

Feeling better about talking to him, I tell him the whole story. I explain about last summer, about this year, about Harry being mad at me, and about us sleeping with each other before these holidays. I feel very happy that he doesn't make faces of disapproval at what I tell him; he simply nods and listens. After I'm done, he sighs again.

"Do you think Harry will forgive us?" I ask him. Charlie always has the answers.

He shrugs and looks away. "I don't know, Ron." he says. "This is a very serious problem. . ."

I don't respond. Obviously, he doesn't think there's much hope for our friendship.

"It could very well go the good way or bad way right now," he says. He pauses. "But what was Harry thinking when he asked Hermione out? He must have known. . ."

"That's what I thought!" I say immediately. "I'm the one who should be angry! What kind of friend purposely takes away their best friend's ideal girl? He must have known! I'm not that hard to figure out, am I?"

He nods, looking at the wall. "Yes, you're right. . .but at the same time. . ."

"What?" I ask, a little annoyed. "You can't justify that!"

"At the same time," he says, ignoring me, "you never made a move."

I gape at him. "That's not the point!" I exclaim. "The point is, he knew how I felt, and he still went for it!"

Charlie shakes his head. "Yeah but, Ron, you never admitted to it. Not even to him. What was Harry supposed to do if he started having feelings for Hermione and you just sat around doing nothing? Was he supposed to wait for you to make a move, when there was a possibility that you never would?"

I think about this for a while. "He could have talked to me about it," I say. "He shouldn't have pretended to have no idea what was going on, and then just give me that slap in the face."

"Maybe." he says. "But right now, you have to deal with the decisions you've made. You have to realize that betrayal is betrayal, and you have to solve things. The right way."

I breathe in for a little while. "But how am I supposed to know what's right? When I'm with Hermione, what might be wrong to do to Harry, is the right thing to do to her. How do I choose?"

He shrugs thoughtfully. "I don't think it's a matter of choosing. I think it's a matter of setting you priorities--"

"Have you ever been in love, Charlie?" I ask, interrupting him.

He looks at me surprised. "What?"

"Have you ever been in love?" I repeat. "Like madly in love."

He thinks for a while. "I'm. . .not sure."

"If you're not sure, then you haven't been. Because if you had, you'd remember." I say.

"Okay," he says slowly. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything." I say. "It's not about priorities. It's about deciding whether love or friendship is more important."

"Those are priorities," he points out.

I sigh. He's right.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed that. I don't like how it ends, but hey. I'm sorry this update took so long, but love scenes are very hard to write.