Discovering Ourselves

by rhrsmutlover

Sixth year. Finally, Ron and Hermione find their way to each other, and once that happens, they simply can't get enough of the other. A story of their relationship through school, the war, and beyond. An AU fic with lots and lots of smut and fluff.

19. Darkness

Well, here it is. I had the intention to publish a bit sooner, but I've got to say that after returning from my holidays I found myself very busy. In fact, it's going to be a very busy September so I won't be able to give you all the fanfiction I wanted to publish.

However, as I stated previously, I've been working on a few more stories, and though I had hoped they'd have progressed more by now, I'll give you a new one-shot the around next weekend, and, a then the next chapter of this story.

I hope that, by the end of the month, I'll be ready to start publishing a new multi-chaptered story I hope you all will love.

You know that in this story I focus on the good things (Romione love and smut) more than on the bad ones, but the time with the horcrux is so crucial to the story it had to be dealt with. So, though this is the darkest chapter I have ever written, it is, though, my favourite by the raw emotions in it. I hope you like my changes respect to the book. The differences in the relationship of Ron and Hermione must be accounted, so let's see how the horcrux, capable to defend itself, adapts to how things are.

I really want to know what you thing, and I hope you don't get too bored by some explanations I wrote in a rather long note at the end.

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Chapter 18

Darkness

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Ron stared at the food, if you could call it that, with a disgruntled expression. He made a noise of disgust, which Hermione heard, and she threw him a glare. Usually that would make him look away, a bit ashamed. After all, if they were going to eat, it was thanks to her.

Not this time, however. No with the horcrux hanging round his neck.

"What? This is disgusting, Hermione. I almost lost my fingers after we escaped from the Ministry, and now we're stranded in the middle of these bloody woods, with nothing to eat and having to carry this stupid locket, without a way to destroy it!"

"Well, sorry for saving your sorry arse when I Apparated us both here after Yaxley almost caught us!" Hermione replied hotly. "I'm sure in Azkaban they would give you delicious meals!"

"I'm not blaming you!" Ron countered, getting angry. "I'm just saying how things are!" he shouted, and then sat down. He threw a look at Harry, who was still eating, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

"Well, Ron, we don't need you to tell us how things are, we're well aware of the situation, thank you very much. Maybe instead of complaining you could do anything to help!" she snapped.

To prevent the harsh retort that had popped into his head from getting out, Ron took a bite of the fish Hermione had prepared and swallowed, feeling a lump in his throat. There was it, the awful, undeniable truth: he was completely useless, and she knew it.

Yes, a low and sinister, yet seductive voice hissed inside him. You are the most useless of the three, Ron. She knows it, and that's why you haven't practically done anything since you left Grimmauld Place, almost two months ago. She is realising what a mistake she's made by going out with you …

"No!" he said out loud.

"No?" asked Hermione, frowning at him. Ron looked up and saw his two friends looking at him. "No what? You mean you don't want to help?"

"No, I —" He stood up, not knowing what to say. "I'm going for some fresh air," he declared, and left the tent, ignoring the bewildered expressions on Harry and Hermione's faces.

Once outside he leaned against a tree, taking a deep breath.

"She loves me," he told himself.

But she has barely touched you. A few snogs, some kisses now and then, and nothing else…

"She loves me," he muttered. "I know it. And we sleep together most nights."

Not once in the last week, the voice replied.

"It's hard sleeping together. Being so close and not doing anything …" he argued feebly.

Ah, yes… you're horny, and we both know how much she likes sex, don't we? And yet she hasn't done anything.

"Harry is here," he muttered.

Ah, Harry… the voice said, almost triumphantly, as if it had wanted the conversation to go exactly there. He probably is the reason she hasn't been spending time with you, but not precisely for modesty…

"What do you mean?" he hissed.

'Well, she's a smart girl, isn't she? I'm sure that, if she wanted, she could find some time for you, use some charms for privacy… But maybe she has found your replacement. Maybe she's not sleeping in your bed because she is trying to switch to another. You aren't the only man in this tent, and, contrarily to you, he's worth something …

Ron clenched his fists painfully, the image of Hermione sneaking into Harry's bed, of the two of them doing… things under his sheets, protected by one of the myriads of spells she might know made him see red.

"No, no, no!" he exclaimed. They wouldn't… they wouldn't …

Why not? You're the odd one here. They both were raised by Muggles… He's the Chosen One, she the most brilliant girl of her generation … and while neither of them has got to worry about their families, yours is in the front line. What if you're caught? What if the Death Eaters discover that you are with them? What will they do to your dad, or your mum? What about Ginny?

Ron began to walk, as if wanting to escape from the voice, though that was impossible. He walked quickly towards the boundary of the area protected by Hermione's spells, and then turned round swiftly and ambled on the opposite direction, his eyes downcast. He didn't know for how long he just walked in circles, until, at some point, maybe an hour later, a pair of toned legs wrapped in jeans appeared on his field of view. He stopped and looked up, at his — (was she still his girlfriend?) — Hermione's beautiful face, and a terrible, powerful wrath awoke inside him. He was about to lash at her, but something in her expression stopped him.

"Ron?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. And just with that word, and the tone she had used, his rage disappeared, replaced by shame.

He stared at her for a moment, and then, in two long strides he was in front of her and wrapped her in his arms.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Hermione," he said, almost sobbing. He could feel her soft body against him, warming his and filling him with her love

And yet, despite everything, he couldn't completely ignore the presence of the locket, hanging between them, both physically and emotionally.

"I'm sorry, too. I know the situation is hardly bearable," she said softly.

Understatement of the century, he thought.

"You at least do something," he said out loud, pulling away from her and looking at her face. "What do I do? Just whine and make you angry."

"That's not true," she said quickly. A bit too quickly, perhaps. "And you're wearing the locket. It makes you more irritable."

"I —"

"And you've been stressed," she continued without letting him talk. "You're worried about your family. So am I, and so is Harry. We both love them, Ron."

"I know," he said lowering his head. "I know. It's just I — I feel so restless. We're achieving nothing. We can't destroy the horcrux; we don't know where the others are …"

"Yes, I understand," she said softly.

"I thought Harry knew more. He — he has no idea of what to do know."

"No, she doesn't," she agreed with a nod, a slight disappointment in her voice. "But it is not as if we know more. He told us not to come, Ron."

"I know."

"Come inside," she asked him. "It's getting cold outside, and you have first watch tonight."

"Wonderful," he groaned, having forgotten about that.

She smiled a bit at him. "It's my turn to wear the locket," she said, extending her open hand to him.

Ron stared at it for a bit, and then, somewhat reluctantly, gave it to her. The locket made him feel awful, and he dreaded the moment to wear it again. And yet, lately, he had discovered that, once he had it, he also dreaded taking it off, which gave him an uneasy feeling. He hadn't shared that information with anyone, though, sure that his friends would look at him as if he were insane.

And who knew? Maybe he was. Why would he want to keep wearing such an awful thing, that made he feel like shit, if he were sane?

He watched Hermione put the chain round her neck with disgust, and then she looked up at him. "Let's go inside," she said, rubbing his right upper arm affectionately, before turning round and entering the tent.

Ron's eyes drifted down to her shapely ass and he let out a sigh. He still felt a bit uneasy. He knew that, after a while, he would feel better, if only slightly. It happened whenever he took the locket off, so it would happen again, he thought, purposely ignoring the fact that, lately, that relief took longer and longer to come.

— o —

A few nights later, Ron found himself watching the blue flames in the jar Hermione had Conjured, bored out of his mind, while he kept watch. It was very cold outside, so he just burrowed himself deeper under his cloak. He glanced at his watch and almost groaned. It was still half past ten. He had still one hour and a half before his shift ended. Then it would be Harry's turn until four o'clock, and then Hermione's until eight.

He sighed, feeling depressed. For how long would they wander aimlessly around the country, doing nothing, barely eating and spending the ever colder nights watching out for possible foes? And meanwhile, they knew nothing about how other people (his family) were doing. What if they had been arrested? What if the Ministry had discovered he was not the one in his bed, but a ghoul? What if —

His train of thought was broken by a noise in the entrance of the tent. He turned his head and saw Hermione emerging from it, wearing her own cloak. Ron frowned at her.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "You should be sleeping."

"I couldn't sleep," she replied, a bit dryly, and took a seat next to him.

"Harry?"

"Asleep," she answered, her eyes focused on the barely visible trees surrounding the clearing where they were camping.

He looked down at the jar with the flames, feeling a bit ridiculous. Fuck, they were a couple. Why were they so awkward around each other, then? They had never been before.

Maybe she doesn't know how to tell you your relationship is a mistake, the voice said suddenly. It was Hermione who had the locket, but, in the last few days, he had discovered that he could hear that voice even when he wasn't wearing it.

Ron shook his head internally, trying to dismiss it. No, that was not it. She is here with me.

Now that Harry's asleep.

He shuddered at the thought, and, without looking at her, said, "So you felt alone and decided to keep me company, then?" He tried to make it sound like a joke, succeeding only partially.

When she didn't answer, he turned his head to look at her, and found her eyes trained on him.

They oozed hunger.

Barely a moment later, she had flung her arms around his neck and was kissing him forcefully and passionately. He just stood frozen, startled by the sudden attack, but when she groaned impatiently against his lips and tried to force her tongue into his mouth, he responded in kind, equally hungry for her.

They snogged passionately for a while, grunting and groaning into each other's mouths. Soon, however, the kiss didn't seem to be enough for Hermione and she stood up, straddling him a moment later. Before he could say anything, her mouth took claim of his once more, her fingers delving a bit roughly into his hair. That didn't last, however, as, barely a minute later, she moved her hands and began to open the fastenings of her cloak, while she started to grind against him.

Ron went hard instantly, but, despite the current of lust coursing his body, he couldn't help but wonder if Hermione really wanted to fuck here, outside the tent, while Harry was inside …

But he couldn't think about that for much longer, because she grabbed his right hand, and, with a moan, she pushed it down her jeans, which she had unbuttoned as well, and into her panties. The sudden feeling of her curly hair, her warmth and her wetness made him groan.

"Hermione …"

"Touch me, Ron," she demanded, in a lusty and oddly aggressive way, thrusting her pussy against his hand. "Touch me. Make me come. Come on."

Ron began to move his fingers, sliding his index and middle one between her lips, so they rubbed her clit. At once, she threw her head backwards and let out a controlled moan of pleasure.

"Yes, oh, yes, like that. More, Ron, more," she ordered, moving her hips faster while she grabbed his shoulders for support. "Fuck, it feels good. Put your fingers inside me, come on!"

Ron did as asked, excited and yet a bit bewildered by her behaviour. But, after so many days without achieving release with her, he wasn't going to protest. Besides, she looked oddly alluring and sexy while she rode her fingers.

"Aah, oh, yes, yes, I'm so close! Keep going, Ron, don't stop!"

"I won't, Hermione. Cum for me," he said, his voice husky. He was dying to see her getting off, and then to finally be able to bury his aching cock inside this hot, wet, inviting hole he had missed so much. "Your pussy is so wet …"

"Fuck, I'm right there, Ron, right there," she grunted, her voice dripping with pure lust. "I'm about to — Oh, ooh, yes! Fuck, yes! I'm cumming!" she almost shouted, her eyes closed, an expression of utter bliss on her face. Her hips were moving uncontrollably as she came on top of him, riding his fingers. For a moment, he even feared Harry would hear her. But that thought, which usually would have mortified him, this time gave him a dark, yet pleasant feeling.

This way he would know who makes her come, who gives her pleasure.

His thoughts were interrupted by Hermione getting up and extracting his now soaked hand from between her legs. He was about to open his cloak and unfasten his trousers when he saw her zipping and buttoning up her jeans once more.

"Hermione?" he asked, not understanding what she was doing.

"Thank you for your help, Ron. It was awesome and I really needed it. See you in the morning." And, without even a simple peck on his lips, she went into the tent once more, leaving him alone and colder than he had been before.

It was then that he realised that she hadn't kissed him or showed him any affection whatsoever since she had come out of the tent.

Three weeks had gone by after that incident, and it hadn't happened again. The morning after, Hermione had blushed a bit at the sight of him, and, while they prepared to pack, she had told him she was sorry for her behaviour. He replied that it was fine.

Only it wasn't.

Their relationship had become even more strained after that, as the weather grew colder, the tension between the three of them grew and their faith in the success of their mission diminished.

Now here he was, playing with the Deluminator. Harry had gone out for the first watch, after a meagre supper that had consisted mainly in bad cooked mushrooms and tea.

Hermione came in, having walked out to give Harry another blanket, and sat down on her own bunk, grabbing the book Dumbledore had given her. Ron watched her, his eyes focusing on the swell of her round breasts against her jumper, and a wave of pure lust invaded him.

A shame that she doesn't seem to want you anymore, the voice said, alluring and seductive as always.

She does, he replied. She came onto me that night —

Ah, yes, she did. Just to get off, and then left you, not bothering to help you, didn't she? Harry was sleeping and she just wanted a quick release. That's the only thing you mean to her.

No! he almost shouted and clutched the locket in his right hand. The coldness of the cursed metal sept into his flesh and it was then that he realised he had been holding it. However, he didn't release it. He could almost feel it beating, alive, and, instead of disgusting, he now felt that almost comforting.

Yes, Ron. Admit it. She doesn't want you anymore. She doesn't want to be with you. The sooner you accept it, the better for you. You should just go home with your family. They need you. Anything could be happening to them…

Ron closed his eyes, his mind swarming with images of his parents and siblings being attacked, tortured, killed …

Full of anguish, he grabbed the Deluminator again and clicked it, plunging the tent into darkness.

"Ron!" Hermione shouted angrily. "Stop playing with that thing!"

"Sorry," he said, clicking it again, though he didn't feel sorry at all. It seemed the only way to get her attention now was to annoy her. Well, he certainly could do that.

He watched her resume her reading and, after a few minutes, clicked the Deluminator again.

"Ronald!"

"Sorry," he repeated, turning the lights back on.

Hermione was now glaring openly at him. Letting out an annoyed huff, she put the book down and got up.

"I'm going to have a shower," she spat, and went into the bathroom, slamming the door closed.

Ron just stayed there, staring blankly at the closed door for almost a minute. He had been itching for a row, and the way she had dismissed him angered him even more.

Go in there and make her acknowledge you. Show her you're not a toy to be used and discarded, the voice suggested.

Seething with anger, he stood up and walked towards the bathroom. He opened the door without bothering to knock, and found himself staring at an undressing Hermione, standing beside the sink in just her black panties and a white t-shirt. A new, powerful surge of lust coursed through him at the sight.

"What are you doing?" she snapped, turning towards him.

Ron didn't answer. He closed the door, moved towards her and then kissed her, hard and possessively, his hands going immediately to her knicker-clad bum, which he kneaded and squeezed lustily.

Hermione whimpered, surprised, and at first tried to push him back, but soon surrendered to Ron's insistent mouth and probing tongue and snogged him with almost as much enthusiasm.

After so many days without barely any contact between them save for a few kisses here and there, he expected to feel elated, like he always did when they snogged. However, the only thing he felt was possessiveness, over her and her body, and an insane lust. Ron clutched her asscheeks harder, roughly, enjoying how round and fleshy they felt in his big hands, and pressed her against the sink, making her whimper again. She lifted her right leg and curled it around his thigh, bringing his cock even closer to her pussy. In other circumstances, Ron would have felt even more wanton towards her, lost in the love and passion they shared, but now the most powerful feeling, besides raw lust, was a desire to show her who was in charge, to prove to her that she didn't own him.

In a frenzy, Ron took her shirt off her, throwing it onto the floor carelessly, and then lowered the cups of the black bra she was wearing before taking one of her breasts into his mouth and sucking hard on it. Hermione moaned, grasping his hair, and Ron sucked harder. Meanwhile, he unfastened his trousers and lowered them along with his boxers, freeing his hard dick. A moment later, he released her boob and, grabbing his cock with one hand, pressed it against her damp panties, eliciting a new groan from her.

"Do you want this, Hermione?" he asked with a lust-filled grunt, pushing the crotch of her panties to the side and rubbing his cock against her folds. She whimpered and pushed her hips forwards, trying to take him in, but Ron pulled away a bit.

"Ron …"

"Do you want my cock?" he pressed, his voice hard and demanding.

"Yes. Oh, yes, I want it."

"It's the only cock you want, isn't it?" he demanded, squeezing her ass roughly and rubbing against her once more. "The only cock in your tight, hungry pussy, right?"

"You know it is, Ron. Please, I —"

"You what?" he inquired with a growl, grabbing his shaft and moving it against her clit, making her moan.

"I need you."

"Say it again."

"I need you."

"Fuck, yeah!" he said, his pride and ego soaring. He grabbed the thigh of the leg she had wrapped around him and lifted it more, opening her even more to him and, positioning the tip of his dick at her entrance, he pushed hard, penetrating her in one hard thrust. Hermione moaned loudly and arched her back, making het tits even more noticeable. Feeling an uncontrollable surge of lust bursting inside him, he put his hands on her ass, and, lifting her a bit on the sink, he latched his mouth around one of her nipples, sucking hard, as he started a frantic thrusting, relishing on the feeling of his achingly hard cock moving inside her hot, moist cunt.

"Fuck, yesss, that's it, that's it!" he grunted, pounding into her even quicker. She put her arms around his shoulders, and moved her hips in sync with his, seeking even more friction. "Do you like it, Hermione? Do you like my hard cock fucking your pussy?"

Hermione could only moan, mumbling something unintelligible under the assault of Ron's shaft, hands and mouth.

"You love my cock, don't you? Is what you love more about me, isn't it?" he continued asking, needing her to admit that she was his and his alone. Hermione looked up at him, but he lowered his head a took the other nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting it while he increased his movements, fucking her harder. She felt so tight and good, and it had been so long that Ron felt about to blow his load at any moment.

One part of him wanted to do just that: seek his own pleasure and cum without caring about her, just like she had done the other day. However, the main part of him wanted to claim her, to show her that her body was his, that only him could pleasure her, that only his cock could make her pussy gush with juices and spasm in bliss. And so he kept moving, trying hard to contain his own orgasm and making sure he rubbed against her clit every time.

"Cum for me, Hermione," he growled, grabbing her ass harder and pressing her even more against him. "Cum all around my cock!"

"Ron, I — God, almost there! Almost there!"

"Come on, cum!" he demanded, thrusting forcefully, his balls slapping against her ass.

Hermione threw her head backwards and let out a silent scream of pleasure as her entire body convulsed in orgasmic bliss. The sight and the feeling of her pussy tightening around his cock was too much for him, and he erupted violently inside her.

"Fuck, yes, yes, yess! Take all my fucking cum!" he shouted, grunting as he filled her hole with spurt after spurt of semen until he had nothing more to give.

They stayed there for a couple of minutes, still joined, while they regained their breathing. But as the fog of the intense lust that had dominated him dissipated, a deep, overwhelming shame took its place. What had he done, using her like that? Claiming her as if she were a possession of his? And object? A — a fucktoy?

Avoiding her eyes, he pulled away, pulling up his pants and trousers and fastening them. Hermione moved towards the shower, the silence thick and uncomfortable between them. Ron scratched his neck, touching the string of the locket. He touched it over his jumper, noticing that it was strangely warm. And it seemed to be beating even faster, as if in sync with his own heart.

The sound of water falling from the shower claimed his attention, and he looked up, seeing Hermione turned towards him, her eyes fixed on his hand. He released the locket at once, and she looked up, at his face. They stared at each other for a few, tense seconds that stretched like days.

"I — I'm going to take a shower now," she said.

"Yeah, I — I just —" he muttered, not knowing what to say. Closing his mouth, he practically ran out of the bathroom, throwing himself onto his bunk, his body shaking.

You saw, didn't you, Ron? The moment she had her orgasm she practically couldn't look into your eyes. It's just your cock she wants, Ron, only your cock.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" he exclaimed against the mattress. "Just shut up …" he added, almost on the verge of tears, suddenly feeling very tired, absolutely drained, and more miserable than ever before.

— o —

Ron stared at the canvas over him as he lay on his back, one arm under his head and the other resting beside him, while his hand played with the Deluminator. On the other side of the tent, Hermione and Harry were talking, though in low voices, so he couldn't understand what they were saying. Well, at least she could talk, couldn't she? He thought bitterly

She has no problem in talking to Harry, the voice said. And though it sounded like a whisper, in a way it was stronger and more seductive than ever. It's only around you she's uncomfortable with. She has said to you — what, twenty, thirty words since that encounter in the bathroom five days ago?

It was then that he realised that they had stopped talking and were calling his name. Frowning, he got up and moved to the main area of the tent. Hermione was facing him, while Harry stood just besides the entrance, apparently listening to something outside.

"What?" he snapped at her, though, this time, she didn't seem to mind, or even to notice.

"Hear this!" she told him, and went to the other side of the entrance. His scowl becoming more pronounced, Ron approached the entrance and listened. The scowl disappeared when he heard voices — goblin voices, it seemed — talking.

"What the hell —?" he started to ask.

"There are two goblins," Harry explained. "But Tonks's father and Dean seem to be with them, too.

"Tonks's father and Dean? But what —?"

"Shh!" Hermione ordered. "They're on the run, it seems."

Ron frowned at her, annoyed that she had ordered him to shut up, but quickly forgot about it when he heard the people outside mention Hogwarts and his Ginny, who apparently had been caught by Snape trying to steal Gryffindor's sword and sent to the Forbidden Forest for punishment. An image of Aragog's spawn appeared on his mind and he shivered in fear for her sister. And hadn't they said something about the Weasleys not needing another injured child? Had any other of his brothers been hurt?

He was going to voice his fears, but realised that Harry and Hermione were now whispering excitedly about the sword being strengthened by Basilisk venom.

You see, the voice whispered, Harry was Ginny's boyfriend, yet he doesn't seem to care about her wellbeing at all. He said that he was breaking up with her for her own safety, but maybe that was a lie. Maybe he hoped that, being all the time around Hermione, he would have an opportunity with her …

A sudden, corrosive hatred burst inside his body. Was it true? Was Harry, his supposed best friend who didn't seem to care about the family who had practically adopted him, trying to steal his girlfriend while pretending to care about his sister?

Not that she seems to be against being stolen, the voice continued. Look at her, she doesn't seem worried at all, either. Well, of course, her parents are safe. Yes, she had to send them away, but at least they're safe. Meanwhile, your entire family is in danger. If they catch you in this insane and ridiculous mission that's going nowhere, they'll pay the price and you know it.

"Ron, what do you think?" Hermione asked, breaking his train of thought. He glared at her, he realised they were talking about the sword, but didn't know exactly what, though the truth was that he didn't care at all.

"Oh, you've remembered me, have you?" he hissed.

"What?" Hermione inquired, bewildered. "What are you —?"

"You want me to worry about searching for another damned thing you've got no fucking idea of where it is, while Ginny is being punished and my family is in danger?" he spat. Hermione stared at him open-mouthed, unable to reply.

"Ron, Ginny was with Hagrid, I'm sure she was completely safe and —" Harry intervened.

"Oh, you're sure, aren't you?" Ron cut in, furious. "Of course, Harry-the-hero-Potter doesn't care about the mental things that lurk in that fucking forest. Yeah, I get it, you don't care about my family, but I do! I can't stop thinking about them while you're here not knowing what to do!"

Harry's eyes narrowed in anger, and Ron felt a sinister satisfaction at the sight. "Of course I care! And you know exactly what I know about this mission; I was completely honest with you, so don't you dare blame me! I didn't ask you to come! In fact, I told you to stay!"

"Only good idea you've had this last year, for sure!" Ron countered, wishing to wound. "I should have stayed at home instead of being here, frozen and hungry and —"

"Then go home!" Harry yelled, his face red. "Go away! Go home so Mummy can feed you!"

"Fuck you, Harry! Fuck — YOU!"

"Ron, please!" Hermione intervened, looking scared. "How can you say we don't care about your family? Of course we do!"

"Shut up and stop pretending! Both your families are safe, the only one in the front line is mine!"

"My family is dead!" bellowed Harry.

"And mine could be, soon! Not that you'd care!"

"Ron, please, take off the locket," Hermione pleaded, in the verge of tears. The image made him feel a bit uneasy, but the fury that coursed through him pushed that feeling aside.

"Don't blame the locket!" Harry shouted furiously. "You want to go? GO! It's not as if you're doing anything useful but complaining all the time!"

"Oh, you'd like me to go away, wouldn't you? So you can finally stay here and steal Hermione from me, if you haven't done that yet," he blurted out, breathing heavily.

At those words, Hermione gasped, staring at him disbelievingly. Harry blinked a few times, too, his eyes travelling between him and Hermione. An incredibly tense moment of silence that seemed to expand like a balloon followed, and, when Harry spoke again, his voice was full of hatred.

"Leave. Take off the locket and go home to be fed and mothered."

With a look of profound hatred, Ron took the locket and threw it away angrily before taking his rucksack and moving to the entrance of the tent. He bumped hard into Harry and then turned to look at Hermione.

"Choose," he said simply.

Hermione opened and closed her mouth like a fish, her eyes moving between both boys. She didn't say anything, but, to Ron, that was as much as a confession.

"I was right, it seems. Stay then. You can have him," he spat, then turned and, exiting the tent, began to walk towards the border of the protected area as it started to rain.

As he walked, he felt as if part of his anger started to dissipate, replaced by a deep, overwhelming sadness. Hermione's face, with tears streaming down her cheeks, appeared before him. He tried to shake his head, but other images appeared: she saying goodbye to her parents, they making the protective enchantment at her house, her face flushed as they made love for the first time …

"Ron! Ron, please!" he heard her yell from behind him. He didn't look back, nor stopped, something inside him compelling him to keep walking, to leave.

"Ron!"

Even without looking, he could tell she was crying.

I love you, Ron, so much …

He slowed down.

Take care of each other, and Harry…

He paused for a moment, something warm growing inside him, slowly dissipating the fury coursing through him and shutting up the voice who compelled him to hurry up and go away.

"Ron, please, don't l-leave me!"

He stopped completely, trembling, and, not without a great effort, turned round to face her.

She was there, staring at him, her beautiful eyes filled with tears.

"I l-love you, and you know i-it," she just said, her voice filled with sadness, but also with undeniable affection. And something broke inside Ron. The anger, the fury, evaporated completely, leaving him light-headed and completely drained. He fell onto his knees on the muddy, wet ground, his body rocking with sudden, silent sobs. Fuck, what had he done? He had been a second away from leaving them!

"Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck, Hermione. What — What have I —?"

But he didn't finish, because a moment later Hermione was all over him, her arms around his neck as she clutched him against her chest, the both of them crying.

"I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so s-sorry, Hermione. Merlin, I almost left y-you!"

"You're h-here," she said in low, soft voice. "You didn't leave. You didn't leave."

"I almost did. Fuck, I almost did," he muttered, pulling a bit away and looking up at her. She put her hands on his face, and his entire being seemed to burst with love for her.

"But you didn't."

"The locket, Hermione. It was the fucking locket. It told me things, horrible things. That you didn't love me, that I was a — a nuisance, that you only wanted me for the s-sex. I — I —"

"Shh," she said, crouching down so her face was just in front of his. "I know, Ron. It made me think horrible things, too."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said, not really. Not really, Love. Merlin, Hermione, I'm so fucking sorry!"

"I know."

"I love you, Hermione. I love you so fucking much."

"I love you too, Ron," she said, and kissed him for the first time in days. It was just a peck, but filled him with overwhelming warmth.

"I'm sorry. Not just for tonight, but for everything. For being a — an arse. For complaining all the time — for — for —"

"It's okay," she said softly, interrupting him. "It's okay, Ron. You didn't leave. In the end you stayed, and that's what's important. Let's get inside. It's raining and we'll catch a cold."

He just nodded, and then he got up with the help of Hermione. Heavy, cold drops began to fall on them, and they ran towards the entrance of the tent, already soaked by the time they got in.

Once there, Hermione moved to the side and Ron stood just there, staring at Harry, who was standing in the middle of the tent, the locket still in his hands. He turned to look at them, and he and Ron held gazes for a few seconds that seemed to stretch into years, neither of them saying anything.

"You're here," said Harry at last, his tone cold, and yet Ron could perceive some relief in his words.

Ron just nodded. "Yeah."

"I care about your family, Ron. How could you think that I don't?"

"I'm sorry," Ron said, lowering his gaze. "I know I have no excuse, just that the locket …" He shook his head, shutting his mouth.

"I'd never try getting between Hermione and you," Harry added, sounding hurt. "Fuck, Ron, she's like a sister to me. And even if she weren't, she's your girlfriend. And she never would cheat on you. How could you think that?"

"I'm sorry," Ron repeated, feeling more ashamed that ever before. "It's just — I know I've been of no help at all, you were right about that. And the locket … it — it kept whispering things to me, day and night and I — I just …" he shook his head again.

"I'm sorry about what I said, too," said Harry after a few moments, his tone much warmer.

"No, you were right," Ron replied, raising his head to meet Harry's eyes. "I let that fucking thing get into my head and —"

"That's what You-Know-Who does," said Harry. "It gets into my head as well."

"But neither of you wanted to leave the others," countered Ron, ashamed. "Maybe — maybe it's just that I am the weak link."

"You were the only one who could leave, Ron," interjected Hermione, and both boys looked at her. "Harry is the most wanted wizard in the country, and I, besides being his friend, am Muggleborn. We have no choice but to keep hidden or on the run. But you could go back home and be safe, and the locket used that against you."

Ron lowered his head again. Well, it made sense, but it didn't make him feel any better.

"I can't wear it, Harry," he said after a few moments of silence. "In fact, I think we shouldn't wear it at all. It's much more evil and powerful than we had thought."

Harry tightened his lips, his expression thoughtful. Both Ron and Hermione stared at him as he gave Ron's words some thought. "We cannot risk losing it," he said after a bit. "I'll keep it in my punch for the time being, though," he conceded after a few seconds, seeing the expression on Ron's face. He looked at them for a few moments, and then, announcing he was going to the bathroom, left them alone.

Ron stared at Hermione, who stared back at him, her arms crossed in front of her chest, her hands rubbing her shoulders as if she were cold, and Ron remembered suddenly that they were quite drenched.

"We should change," she said, moving to take her beaded bag and walking towards the cots.

Ron approached her. Despite the moment they had had outside, and what she had said, he knew she was deeply hurt.

"I'm sorry," he said once more to her back, while she pulled clothes from the bag and onto the mattress.

"I know."

"Can you — can you forgive me?" he asked tentatively.

Hermione turned to look at him, her expression serious. "I've already forgiven you, Ron."

"Have you?" he inquired, his tone doubtful. He had accused her of cheating, after all. It wasn't something one could forgive — or forget — easily.

She nodded. "Yes, but that doesn't mean I'm not hurt. I know the locket twisted your thoughts and all, but — how —" she gulped "— how could you think I was capable of — of —" she closed her mouth, unable to say the words out loud.

"I know," he whispered, feeling his ears redden in shame. "And I am really sorry. I'm sorry for letting it get to me like that. And — and for — for what happened that day in the bathroom. What I did —"

"You didn't do anything I didn't want," she said quickly.

"I know, but still, the way I went about it … It was wrong."

"I'm sorry, too, about that night outside the tent," she said, blushing. "I — I just used you to get relief. It was selfish and wrong, and I'm sorry for it."

"It's okay," he said.

"No, it isn't," she replied. "And afterwards … afterwards I felt so ashamed that I could barely look at you."

"It screwed us pretty bad, didn't it, the fucking thing?" Ron summarised. Hermione let out a sad chuckle.

"Yes, it did."

"I meant what I said, Hermione. We cannot keep wearing it."

"You heard Harry; he won't risk losing it for anything."

"We could lose everything else if we keep wearing it."

Hermione looked at him intensely and then nodded. "I'll think of something."

Ron smiled at her, grateful, and began taking off his wet clothes. Hermione did the same, though a little hesitantly, the past weeks weighing heavily upon them. Looking down, he took off his trousers and then his socks before glancing at her. She was down to her underwear, made of practical cotton, yet Ron felt something stir inside him. He hadn't seen her in such a state since the day in the bathroom.

"Do you — do you want me to give you privacy?" he asked, gulping loudly.

Hermione turned her head to look at him, and, then, after a few seconds, shook her head.

"We've seen each other naked plenty of times, Ron."

Ron nodded, relieved. Not for the fact that he could see her starkers, but for the fact that she was still comfortable enough to strip completely in front of him.

Ron took off his pants, and then began putting on the clothes Hermione had picked for him, while she did the same. When they were dry and dressed in their pyjamas, they looked at each other once more. Ron gulped and, gathering all his courage, took her hand in his, caressing its back with his thumb.

"Would you like to — to sleep with me tonight?" he asked. She opened her eyes more, and Ron almost cursed himself for his stupidity. "We haven't got to do nothing," he added quickly. "I just — I just missed sleeping next to you."

Her expression softened and she nodded. "Okay. I — I missed that, too."

They held each other's gazes for a bit, and then a little, tentative smile appeared on both their faces, but the moment was broken by Harry coming out of the bathroom.

They had supper in silence, the tension of the previous argument still in the air. The food was horrible just like almost always, but, contrarily to other days, it almost felt good to Ron. He just had to think that he might be miles away from the two people that mattered the most to him to find a new delight in such a bad meal.

Afterwards, Harry offered to take first shift, and Ron and Hermione headed for bed. They lay in the small cot, their bodies pressed together, making the already awkward moment worse. Both of them were on their backs, looking up, lying there in silence, until Ron, tired of it, made the first move and, turning to lay on his side so he was facing Hermione, rested his arm on her stomach, his hand curving around her waist. She moved her head and looked at him, a bit surprised, but then moved a bit and snuggled against him, sighing contentedly. Ron couldn't help but smile.

"I really missed this," he muttered.

"Me too," she responded. "Deep down, I wanted to sleep with you, these past weeks. But you looked always so angry, and I was angry myself, the locket telling me the only reason you'd want a know-it-all Muggleborn like me was because I acted like — like a slut in bed."

Ron gasped at the word and stared down at her incredulously. "Hermione! That's a horrible thing to say! I'd never, ever think something so horrible of you. You are passionate, and wild, and you like sex, just like me. That doesn't make you — you … that."

"I know," she said. "But it was what I was thinking anyway. Didn't it make you feel useless?"

"Yeah. But that's different, I —"

"You're not useless, Ron."

"Well, I haven't been of much help, either, have I?" he responded grumpily.

"That's not true, but, even if you didn't have another ability, you make me and Harry happy and whole. I — I don't know what we'd do without you, Ron. We'd be broken."

Ron felt at the verge of tears at her words.

"I love you, you know. So very much."

Hermione looked up at him, and, raising one hand, she caressed his face lovingly. "I love you too. I was so afraid I was losing you, that you didn't want me anymore …"

"I could never stop wanting you, Hermione."

And then they kissed. Not angrily and lustfully, like that day in the bathroom, but lovingly, trying to convey how much they meant to the other. After a bit, they pulled away slowly, both grinning at each other. Ron lay on his back, and Hermione put her head on his arm, her hand lying on his chest. He sighed contentedly.

"How — how do you feel?" he asked after a bit, caressing her hair absentmindedly. Fuck, he had missed sliding his fingers through it.

"Good," she answered. "Really good."

"So do I," he said. "And it's odd, isn't it? I mean, these past months, even after taking the locket off, I still felt it inside me, still heard its voice. But now — no. It's as if vanished completely. As if — I don't know."

"Yes, I get what you mean," she said. "I feel the same."

"When I was about to cross the wards, I remembered your mother that day they left, telling us to take care of each other, and — it was as if something snapped, as if — as if something had filled me with warmth and banished the darkness out of me."

"The spell!" Hermione said suddenly, raising her upper body and twisting it to look down at him.

"Which spell?" Ron asked, blinking quickly.

"The one we cast to protect my house! It — it links us, Ron, through our love. I think that these past months we grew apart from each other, debilitating that link, and allowing the locket to get stronger. But today — you remembering my parents, I dreading you leaving, realising despite what had happened I wanted you in my life desperately — we, in a way, reignited it … and what is the only thing that You-Know-Who cannot stand?"

"Love," Ron whispered, realising what she meant.

"Exactly. Our love for each other saved us tonight, Ron, just like Harry's grief for Sirius saved him from being possessed that day at the Ministry."

Ron contemplated it for a bit. "So, you think that could be the answer to protect ourselves from the locket while still wearing it?"

Hermione bit her lip, thinking deeply about it. "I'm not sure," she said after a while. "I mean, it could work, but we're still on the run, hungry and cold and more than a bit desperate. We're worried about our families and friends. We could have a really bad day, Ron, and the locket will never stop trying to destroy us, probably now even more intensely. I think it would be riskier to wear it now."

"Yeah, I think you're right."

"We should get to sleep, it's been a tiring day," she commented. "We must be rested for our watches. I'll try to find another way."

"Yeah. If someone can find a solution, that's you."

She smiled at him, and they shared another soft kiss, that lingered for a few seconds. Then, more relaxed than in a long time, they fell asleep in each other's arms.

— o —

When Ron woke up the next morning, he was alone in his bunk. He rubbed his eyes an got up, yawning. He had done the last watch and had got into bed at dawn, just a few hours ago.

He got to his feet and walked to the kitchen, where Harry was, sitting at the table, a mug of hot tea in front of him. He had the snitch in his hands and was staring at it as if he could see through the metal.

"Morning," Ron said softly.

"Morning," Harry responded, glancing up at him. "Tea?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Harry poured Ron some, and, after putting sugar in it and stirring it in silence, Ron took a sip. He could feel the tension between him and Harry, and knew he should say something, but didn't know what.

"Where's Hermione?" Ron asked, looking around.

"Outside. It stopped raining and she said she needed some fresh air.

Ron just nodded, and the thick silence fell over them once more. Ron started racking his brains for something to say, when Harry spoke.

"I care about your family, Ron, and about Ginny. I — I broke it with her because I care about her," he blurted out, his tone reflecting hurt and a little anger.

"I know," Ron said quickly. "I know, Mate. I know they're like your own family. I didn't really believe anything I said last night. I was angry and confused and —" he shut his mouth, lost at words.

"Yeah, I know. You were right in that I don't know what to do, though."

Ron opened his mouth and stared at Harry, feeling even more ashamed. He had forgotten he had said that. "Neither do I or Hermione," he said quickly. "And you were right, you were honest with us, you didn't want us to come. I just wanted to blame someone else for how useless I felt, and the locket only made it worse."

Harry nodded slowly.

"I'm really sorry," Ron added, needing to say more, feeling like he should, in a way, atone for his actions and words. "I know I'm a shitty friend. What happened in fourth year first, and now this …"

"You're not a shitty friend," Harry replied. "Okay, you're not perfect, but neither am I. You've been with me from the start, Ron. You gave me a family when I had none. And I'm sure your life would be much easier if you hadn't met me."

"Maybe, but it would have been too boring, I think," he said brightly, grateful for Harry's words. Harry chuckled and soon they were grinning at the other, the air between them cleared.

"You and Hermione are okay, then?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Ron nodded.

"Good. You're both absolutely insufferable when you aren't."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry for that."

Harry just shrugged. "After six and a half years, I'm accustomed to it."

"Prat."

Harry just grinned, and Ron took another sip of his tea, wishing they had something more to eat. He could feel his stomach protesting in hunger, but he was determined not to whine ever again. Not that he really believed he would be capable of that, but still …

"So, we must find the Sword of Gryffindor, then?" he asked, trying to forget about his hunger.

"It seems so," nodded Harry. "But who knows where it is."

"Why couldn't Dumbledore have given it to you when he was alive?" Ron inquired.

"Yeah, I wonder about that too," Harry said, his tone becoming annoyed.

"I suppose he didn't count on being killed by Snape," offered Ron, not wanting Harry to dwell on his conflicting feelings regarding the headmaster.

"And yet he hid it and replaced it with a copy," Harry argued, frowning. "But where? Fuck, why couldn't he explain to me that it could be used to destroy horcruxes?"

"I don't know, Mate. Maybe —"

But Ron didn't finish his sentence, because in that moment Hermione walked in, her hair wild and her cheeks flushed due to the cold.

"Good morning, Ron," she said, smiling at him.

"Hi," responded Ron with a smile of his own. "Aren't you cold?"

Hermione just shrugged as she sat next to him, putting the book she had been carrying on the table. To Ron's surprise, it wasn't The Tales of Beedle the Bard, but a book about charms and spells. "I found a way to make sure we don't lose the locket without having to carry it round our necks," she blurted out.

"You have?" asked Harry, surprised. "How?"

"A Binding Charm," said Hermione.

"A what?" asked both Harry and Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes, making both Ron and Harry to smile.

"It's similar to a Permanent Sticking Charm, just way more complicated. Basically, it allows you to bind an object to you, so it is always within a short distance from your body. You could throw it to the ground and Disapparate, and it would follow you," she explained.

Ron stared at her open-mouthed, and, from the corner of his eye, saw Harry doing the same.

"Really? That would be awesome!" exclaimed Harry. "Can you perform such a spell?"

"Yes, I think so," nodded Hermione, trying not to look too full of herself. "Of course, it could be that the locket had Magic to protect it from such a spell, the same way Summoning Charms don't work on it. But I don't really think so. You-Know-Who would have wanted to prevent the horcruxes from being found, not just kept safe afterwards."

"Can we try?" asked Harry eagerly.

Hermione nodded and, getting up, exited the tent, with Harry and Ron on her tails. Harry took out the locket and put it on his upturned palm. Hermione took out her wand and pointed at it. She muttered a spell while making a complicate pattern with her wand, and a quick, bright light enveloped Harry's hand and the horcrux.

"Did it work?" Harry asked.

"Throw it away," Hermione told him.

Harry looked a bit doubtful, his eyes travelling between Hermione and the locket. Finally, he closed his hand around it and threw it away with force.

The three friends followed it with their eyes. The locket described a long arc and then, suddenly, it seemed to hit a wall and rebounded, flying back towards Harry, who caught it in his hand easily.

"Wicked!" exclaimed Ron, grinning at his girlfriend. "You're a bloody genius, Love!"

"Yeah, Hermione," nodded Harry. "It's awesome."

"Thank you," said Hermione, smiling broadly and trying not to look too pleased with herself.

"We can keep it inside one of the cupboards of the kitchen, then?" said Ron eagerly.

"Yeah, I suppose we could," agreed Harry. "Though we must check on it frequently."

"Yes, yes, we will," responded Ron, not hiding how glad he was from knowing he wouldn't have to put with the damned thing ever again. "And now — what?" he asked the other two.

— o —

Ron finished washing the dishes with a few flicks of his wand, feeling more cheerful than in a long, long time. For starters, he wasn't wearing the locket. Then it was the fact that Hermione and he — the three of them, in fact — had got over the tension the horcrux had created, and, last but not least, they had enjoyed a wonderful dinner, talking and laughing as if they were on a holiday and not escaping from a bunch of maniacs.

After Hermione had performed the Binding Charm on the locket and Harry, they had Disapparated to the southern coast, hoping for better and warmer weather. They had landed near a Muggle farming village and, after casting a few Glamour Charms on herself and making sure the area was safe, Hermione had managed to go to a grocery store and buy loads of food.

Ron had been a bit worried about her going alone and hadn't stopped pacing until she came back, nearly an hour later. However, when he saw what she had managed to get, he couldn't help but be very glad. Once back, Hermione had used a few charms to multiply the food so it lasted longer. It wouldn't keep it from going stale eventually, but until then they wouldn't need to shop for more.

And so, despite not having achieved nothing in their discussion regarding the Sword of Gryffindor they felt better than in a long time while they enjoyed copious amounts of pasta and cheesecake.

Now Harry had ventured outside for his watch, a mug of steaming tea on his hands, leaving Ron and Hermione in the tent. As she had done most of the cooking, Ron had offered to clean and wash the dishes, while she read a bit lying on her bunk.

As he finished, Ron couldn't help but glance at her every few seconds, revelling in the look of concentration on her beautiful face and the way a few strands of hair fell in front of it, or the way her hips curved under her jeans, which looked tight on her toned thighs …

He had sated his need of food and peace, but now he felt his other craving increase: he was horny as hell and wanted her so bloody much.

"Done," he said, approaching her.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Good."

"I think I'm going to have a shower," he said, his tone hopeful. Maybe she would join him?

"Okay," she said, nodding, and went back to her book.

Ron watched her for a few seconds and then, letting out a silent sigh, went to the bathroom. He could have asked her, but, though they were doing very well, the fight the locket had caused was still recent, and he didn't want to push things; so he went to the bathroom and took off his clothes, turning on the shower and stepping inside. As the water fell upon him and he covered his body in soap, his mind began to drift towards Hermione again, towards what they had done in this same bathroom …

His cock twitched, getting hard. Ron took it in his soapy hand, caressing it slowly, imagining Hermione there with him, her legs opened, her tits heaving, her face flushed in pleasure as she moaned …

"Fuck," he whispered, beginning to stroke it, softly at first and then harder, imagining it was Hermione's tight pussy around him while he fucked her.

Oh, Ron, yes … Harder, fuck me harder. Give it to me, Ron. Cum in me.

"Fuck, Hermione, yesss, yess," he hissed, his hand a blur over his aching shaft. He put a hand on the wall as his hips started moving on their own, seeking more pleasure. His balls tightened and, with a grunt, his cock exploded, spurting stream after stream of cum.

"Bloody fuck …" he whispered, panting.

After a few moments, he finished his shower and got out, using his wand to dry himself. It had been a good wank, surely, but not enough. He wanted to cum in her, or on her, not in the shower. But well, it'd have to do for now.

Once he had put some pants on, he exited the bathroom and found Hermione still on her bunk, reading. She turned her eyes to look at him.

"Done?" she asked,

"Yeah."

She let out a yawn. "We should get to bed, to be rested for our watches."

He nodded and began putting his pyjamas on. From the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione undressing, and he gulped. Despite his recent release, he felt the stirrings of new arousal. He turned to openly stare at her as she took off her shirt, revealing her torso only covered by a simple black bra. Next, she took off her trousers, giving Ron a wonderful view of her ass, also covered by tiny black panties. She turned to look at Ron and blushed under his gaze.

"What?" she asked, a bit shyly.

"You're so beautiful," he said sincerely.

She smiled.

"You're not so bad yourself."

"Do you — do you want to sleep with me again?" he asked.

"Yes, I'd love to," she answered as she took off her bra, letting her fantastic tits bounce freely. Ron's cock twitched at the sight, but he didn't enjoy the view for long, as soon she put on her pyjama top, followed by the bottoms.

Trying to contain his desire for her, Ron got under the covers, making room for her, who climbed afterwards. Ron used the Deluminator to turn off the lights, leaving just a couple of flames in jars Hermione had created, which gave a soft glow to the tent without giving too much light, and then put it on his bedside table while Hermione snuggled against him. Her soft body pressing against his did nothing to calm his raging hard on.

She sighed contentedly as she shifted a bit, draping one leg over his and settling her arm on his chest.

"Hermione?" he asked after a few seconds of silence.

"Yes?" she asked, looking up at him.

Ron didn't say anything. Just moved his head towards her and kissed her, tentatively at first, but, when she responded, he became bolder and deepened the kiss, turning it into a full snog.

She moved a bit so she was a bit over him and could kiss him more comfortably, her feet moving slowly up and down his calf. He put his arms around her and moaned into her mouth as he touched her sides, his hands sliding under her top to touch her soft skin.

"Mmh, Ron …"

"Fuck, I missed this," he whispered against her lips before claiming her mouth again, his tongue seeking hers. She moaned in approval and shifted again, so she was practically straddling his leg. Her thigh bumped against his cock and he gasped. Hermione lifted her head so she could look down at him, and then kissed him hard, her hand moving from his chest to his belly and back up, until, on one occasion, instead of stopping at the height of his belly button, she continued, caressing his erection.

"Oh, fuck, Hermione …"

"So hard," she whispered, stroking it over his trousers. "I missed feeling it," she confessed bluntly.

"Fuck, I missed you touching it. And touching you," he added, moving his hands to the firm globes of her bum and giving her squeeze. Bloody hell, it felt amazing.

"I believed you were going to — to wank in the shower," she whispered huskily.

"Well, I did," he admitted, his ears turning a bit pink.

"Did you?" she asked, a playful smile on her face. "Did you think about me, Ron?" she inquired coyly, her hand sliding under his trousers and caressing him over his pants.

"Fuck, yeah. I imagined you there with me, moaning in pleasure as I fucked you hard."

"Didn't you cum?" she asked, moving her hand faster.

"Yeah."

"And yet you're still so hard."

"My hand is not enough, Hermione. And then you showed me your fantastic body and — Ahh, fuck, don't stop doing that …" he moaned.

"Do you want me to make you cum again, Ron? Until you're satisfied?"

"Oh, fuck, yes! Oh, yes, Hermione. Shit, I need you so bad. Let me take off your clothes and —"

"We cannot do that," she said, kissing him along his jaw. "What if Harry comes in? But I can do this," she added, sliding his hand under his pants and grasping him in her hand.

"Fuuuck, so good! Your hand is so much better than mine, Hermione!"

"Merlin, Ron, your cock is so hard and soft. I missed having it in my hand," she whispered seductively, and then, biting his earlobe, added, even more sultrily, "I want to make you cum, to feel your cock spurting into my hands until your balls are empty."

"Fuck, Hermione, yes! Do it! Wank my cock and make me cum!" He could already feel his bollocks tightening, her hand felt too good on him, and the way she was talking ... fuck …

"Don't hold back," she whispered into his ear. "I want to see you cumming, Ron."

"Oh, fuck, Hermione …" he moaned, her talking making as much effect as her ministrations, before he was muffled by her demanding mouth. Ron responded eagerly, kissing her passionately as his hips thrust upwards. But he wanted to touch her, too, so he let his wands slid under her pyjama bottoms and her panties until he was touching the glorious nakedness of her bum. Hermione seemed to like his touch, as she moaned, which only drove Ron wilder.

"Hermione, I'm about to explode!" he exclaimed against her lips, his breathing ragged. She lifted her head so she could watch his face in the near-darkness and sped up the movements of her hand. Ron's entire body tensed and then he was flooded by the sweetest release as his cock erupted, spitting a big load of cum into his pants and over Hermione's hand. Ron was barely aware of her moaning when she felt it, and, as he trashed on the bed, she kept stroking him hard, wanting to help him through his orgasm.

"Oh, fuck, Hermione, Hermione …" he muttered, spent and panting heavily. She giggled and Ron managed to open his eyes to look at her, just to find her staring down and him intensely.

"Good?" she asked.

"Fuck, yeah."

"Better than the wank in the shower?"

"Definitely."

"Yes, you shot a good load, that's true," she said, smirking. She took her hand from under his pants and looked at it in awe, as if it was the first time she saw it covered in his semen.

"You certainly enjoyed yourself, didn't you?" she asked, and then raised her hand and began to lick it.

"Fuck, that's so hot, Hermione," he said, and began to knead her ass once more. As she continued licking his seed, he moved his hand around her hip until his fingers brushed the soft curls surrounding her pussy, and then, slowly, delved his fingers into her folds, already slick with want. "Mmmh, you're wet," he whispered, caressing her slit with two fingers.

"Oooh, Ron! Yes, I am. I am. How could I not be after having your cock in my hands, after seeing you come?"

Ron's fingers touched her clit and her hips moved spasmodically.

"Want to cum, Hermione?" he asked smugly.

"Yes," she said in a low voice, putting her hand on his chest to support herself.

Ron started moving his hands faster, on her ass and her pussy, and she shifted to help him. When his middle finger touched her opening, she pushed down so it entered her easily, making them both groan at the pleasurable sensation. Hermione began to rock her hips, fucking herself on his finger as he angled his hand so his thumb touched her clit, sending her to new heights of pleasure. She moaned enticingly, making his cock twitch. His hand was not in a very comfortable position, and his wrist was starting to hurt a bit, but in no way was he going to move it before she had come. The way she was fucking herself on his fingers was too hot to stop. Wanting her to orgasm hard, Ron moved his index finger a bit, so it was touching her entrance, too, and, in the next downward movement, she got it inside her as well.

"Fuck, yes, Ron, yes!" she moaned pleasurably, her hips rocking faster. Ron couldn't help a groan, and realised his cock was completely hard once more.

"Shit, you're so fucking hot," he told her in a husky whisper. "You don't know what you do to me, Hermione."

Hermione moved ever harder, now getting really close, and, to Ron's surprise, slid the hand on his chest lower until she was cupping him again, making him hiss.

"I — I think I do … Oh, God, this feels so good, Ron, your fingers feel so good … so fucking good …" She opened her eyes and stared down at him intensely. "Give me another," she demanded, her hand moving under his pants once more to grasp his aching member.

"Whatever you want, Love," he said, barely supressing a moan, and aligned a third finger with the other two. Immediately, Hermione pushed down hand and took inside her along the others. Ron felt the walls of her cunt stretch a bit, and his cock twitched in her hand. She tightened her grip at the same time and began to wank him again in sync with her own movements, the cum still covering him making his dick slippery.

"Fuuuck, Hermione, you're gonna make me cum again!"

"That's what I — I want, Ron," she said, panting. "I think you've got much more in you and want to — Oh, Ron I think I'm about to — Fuck, aah, yessss!" she hissed, throwing her head back as her hips moved erratically, her pussy fluttering around his fingers while she rode her strong orgasm.

"That's it, Hermione, come hard!" Ron encouraged her, rubbing her clit more quickly. "Fuck, you're so hot when you cum!"

After a few seconds, she slowed down the movement of her hips as she practically fell over him. Ron stopped rubbing her clit, knowing it would be too sensitive, but he didn't remove his fingers from her hole. Hermione looked into Ron's eyes, her own reflecting the pleasure she had felt, and resumed her frantic wanking of his cock, which had stopped during her climax.

"Give me all that semen, Ron. I want to drain your balls completely."

"Fucking hell, 'Ermione!" Ron almost shouted, arching his back and pushing his hips against her tight fist, fucking it, his eyes closed to better enjoy the feeling. Merlin, keep stroking my dick and I'll give you spunk non-stop!"

"Mmmh," she moaned huskily. "That's it, Ron. Cum for me. Coat my hand again so I can suck it off my fingers."

"You — you could always taste it directly from — the source," he managed to say, despite having his mind clouded by the sensations he was getting through his cock.

"Yes, I could …" she said thoughtfully. And, barely a few seconds later, Ron heard her shift in the bed as her hand stopped. He opened his eyes and his mouth, ready to tell her to keep going, but his words died in his throat when he saw her go under the covers and release his cock from its confines.

"Keep an eye on the tent's entrance," she told him in a low voice, before engulfing half his rod in one go.

"Fucking fuck, yeah! Suck it deep, Hermione!" he demanded, her mouth already driving him to ecstasy. He closed his eyes and moaned; her request forgotten. At that moment, he couldn't care less if Harry or half the population of England entered in the tent. In fact, there was no Harry Potter or other people in the world: just him and Hermione sucking his cock after so long. And she seemed to want it as much as he did, sucking on him quickly, as if she had gone for days without water and his cock was the only fountain available. In less than a minute after she had put in her mouth, she was taking his whole length, the tip entering her throat before retreating and applying and incredible amount of suction. He definitely wasn't going to last.

"Cum for me, Ron, come on!" she encouraged, releasing his shaft for a few seconds before swallowing him again and making for lost time. Ron had difficulties trying to contain his bucking hips, but she didn't seem to mind that he was almost fucking her throat, and the idea (and knowledge, as he had done it other times) that Hermione loved him fucking her mouth sent a thrilling shiver down his spine, making his entire body even more alive with pleasure. Well, if she wanted his cum, he wasn't going to disappoint her. Moving his hands to her fantastic, bushy hair, she pushed her head against him as he thrust upwards, going a bit deeper in her mouth and throat. Hermione let out a pleasure groan and squeezed his balls harder and faster.

And suddenly the night exploded into a myriad of lights and it was just the very small part of his brain that wasn't completely addled by lust that prevented him for howling loudly in pleasure. He bit his lower lip painfully as he came powerfully, his cock pouring stream after stream of his hot cum into his girlfriend's mouth, which only spurred her on, causing her to suck harder.

"Swallow it all, swallow it all, Hermione!" he demanded, forcing her head on him as he pushed upwards. He didn't need to have said anything, though, as Hermione seemed to really enjoy swallowing his load, because she kept at it for a bit even after he'd stopped cumming.

Finally, she emerged from under the covers, a wide grin on her face as she licked her lips.

"Holy fuck, Hermione."

"Good, I guess?" she asked smugly, lying next to him, resting her weight on her left elbow.

"Fucking awesome, I'd say. I missed your fantastic blowjobs."

"Well, I missed sucking you off, too," she confessed, leaning in to give him a kiss. "I love having you coming in my mouth," she added softly once the kiss ended, as she slid her lips along his jaw.

"Fuck, Hermione …"

"It makes me so wet," she added, giving his earlobe a playful bite.

Ron turned to his side at once and took her mouth in a bruising kiss, pushing her down on the bed. His left hand moved then over her torso, giving her breasts a squeeze before sliding down, until it was under her very damp panties. Hermione whimpered and opened her legs wide in invitation, and Ron started touching her engorged clit in circles, causing her to thrust her hips against his hand.

"Want me to eat your pussy, Hermione?" he asked huskily against his lips. "I'd love to."

"Fuck, so would I," she muttered, "but I'd have to take off my clothes and — just keep going, Ron. Give me another orgasm with your hand," she told him before using her hands to lower his head so they were snogging once more.

Ron would have loved to see her pussy and eat her out, having her cumming against his face, but he settled for feeling it up and stick his fingers in her snug, hot hole. Almost at once, she clenched her inner muscles, gripping them, and Ron groaned into her mouth as they kissed frantically, thinking of how it would feel around his cock, which twitched again despite having come twice.

Hermione, her passion growing, pressed him more against her chest, and Ron sighed at the familiar, and yet still marvellous, feeling of her tits against his chest. Wishing that he could feel those glorious mounds skin-to-skin, he moved his hand faster, making her whimper again. She started moving her hips more frantically, desperately seeking her orgasm, one that Ron wanted to be even stronger than the last one. He added another finger and moved them deeper and faster, pressing his palm harder against her clitoris. Hermione practically screamed against his mouth, her tongue entering his mouth and mirroring the movement of his fingers.

"Ron … Ron, God …" she panted between kisses. "I want to cum, Ron. Make me cum hard, I want it to be so strong I pass out. Fuck, don't stop!"

"Fuck, Love," he groaned, moving his hand faster, using his knowledge of her body to try to make it even better for her. Of course, if they were naked and he could just —

"Fuck it," he muttered, raising his head. At once she opened her eyes, undoubtedly wondering why he wasn't kissing her. Ron didn't answer. Without stopping his left hand, he used the other to yank her pyjama top upwards until her tits were out, looking as amazing as ever to him. Ron just lost a moment admiring the view, before lowering his head and taking her left nipple in his mouth. He sucked hard, the way she loved, making her moan and arch her back, as if she wanted him to devour her entire breast. Grunting animalistically, he tried to do just that, tacking more and more of her wonderful flesh in his mouth, his tongue caressing the hard nipple devilishly.

"Ron, yes, yes, yesss, aah, yesss! Suck them, suck them! Fuck, I'm — aah — almost there!"

Ron switched breasts and kept sucking savagely, almost devouring her, while shook under him. His hand was completely soaked in her juices, and he could feel her pussy fluttering, about to go over the edge. Ron lifted his head and looked at her lust-filled eyes. "I'd love nothing more than to stick my cock in this sweet pussy of yours, Hermione, and fuck you as hard as I could," he said, his voice thick with desire, and then he took again her nipple in his mouth and bite on it. Not hard, but it wasn't soft, either.

Ron almost feared she would break her back when she arched on the bed, her hands pressing his head against her tit while her pussy spasmed around his fingers as she came strongly.

"Oh, fuck, Roooon!" she meowed. Ron wanted to tell her not to be so loud, but she kept pressing him against her tit and was unable to say anything, his mouth full of her delicious flesh.

Finally, she loosened her grip on him and he detached from her, leaning on his hand to watch her as she recovered. Fuck, she looked so gorgeous, her face still reflecting the pleasure she had felt, and her tits bare, heaving with her breathing…

His cock twitched again. She opened her eyes to look at him and smiled contentedly.

"That was great, Ron."

Ron grinned and brought the hand that had been under her panties to his mouth, relishing in the smell of her, and then licked his index finger, moaning lightly as she savoured her. She stared at him lustfully, as if she wanted to pounce on him, instead of having just come (and come hard!)

Fixing her eyes on his, Hermione grabbed his hand and brought it to her own mouth, sucking seductively on the rest of his fingers.

"Hermione …" he whispered huskily, his cock aching with renewed desire for her. He had a sudden image of him getting to his knees next to her face and feeding her his cock, and he had to close his eyes and prevent a groan. Merlin, he wanted to cum again.

While she continued cleaning his hand, he lay next to her ground his hips against her thigh, letting her know how hard he was. She opened her mouth and stopped sucking at once.

"You want more?" she asked in a very soft, low voice.

"Fuck, yeah. I really wanna fuck you, Hermione." He moved his hand, wet from the combination of her juices and their saliva, to her exposed tits and touched them, revelling at their firmness and softness.

Hermione's eyes glanced at the tent's entrance and then fixed back on Ron. "We cannot," she said. "But —" and then moved her right hand to his crotch, groping him through his pyjama bottoms and pants.

Ron groaned at the feeling. "Hermione …"

"My handsome, horny boyfriend," she muttered, a smile on her voice. "I want you to shoot more of that delicious, hot spunk. Will you give me more, Ron?"

"As much as you want," he responded, his voice hoarse.

Hermione didn't waste time. She pushed him onto his back, and then, as she snogged him, they both sharing her taste, she slid her hand under his pants, still sticky and wet with is drying cum, and began to fist his hard cock vehemently.

The snog lasted for a whole minute, and then Hermione moved away and straddled his thighs. She threw another look at the entrance for good measure, and then lowered his trousers and pants, freeing his cock. She stared at him, licked her lips, and then put her right hand once more around his girth and lowered the left to his bollocks.

"I want you to explode," she told him, before starting a fast, hard and entirely amazing handjob.

Ron hand to grip the sheets under him as his hips bucked, delirious with the pleasure her hands were bringing him. "Hermi-oooh-neeee!" he growled.

"Don't hold back, Ron. Cum for me!"

Ron didn't last at all, despite having come two times in barely twenty minutes. Her amazing hands and the way she was staring at him had him on the verge of cumming in just another two minutes, and then, his hips moving wildly, he exploded as she had requested, coating her hands and his groin in pearly globs of his seed.

"Bloody hell, Hermione … oh, fuck …"

"Liked it, did you?" she asked, smiling at him. She continued sliding her hand up and down his cock leisurely, and then brought it to her mouth, licking it while still watching him. Ron couldn't keep his eyes off her, and his cock, which hadn't deflated completely, twitched again, already reading itself for another go.

The moment her hand was clean she brought her down to the bed and turning to his side, hovered over her and kissed her hard, tasting himself in her mouth while his hands caressed the soft skin of her sides and tummy.

"Now I owe you one," he told her. Hermione smiled and giggled a bit, giving him a few quick kisses on his lips.

"I'm fine, Ron."

"Mmmh," he said noncommittally, biting softly on her lower lip. "But what if I want to?"

"Tomorrow," she said, putting a finger on his lips.

"But I've missed you," he pouted, sliding his hand under her knickers and teasing her. She closed her eyes and her face contorted in an expression of pleasure.

"Ron …" she purred, stilling his hand with hers.

"Okay, okay," he said, relenting. He took his hand off her panties and lay down, bringing her closer to him.

"We should change our underwear, don't you think?" she asked. "My panties are completely soaked, and you've got a lot of dried semen in yours."

Ron search for his wand and then cast a Cleaning Charm on them.

"Done," he said.

"That's hardly the same," she protested.

"It's enough for tonight, Love," he replied. "I don't want to move. Besides, I love knowing that you're wearing those dirty knickers," he added with a smirk.

"Idiot," she said, but he could feel the smile on her voice.

They just lay there, enjoying the afterglow of their night, until, after a couple of minutes, Ron broke the silence.

"Hermione."

"Yes?" she asked, her voice already sleepy.

"I love you."

Her lips curved into a smile as she replied, "I love you too, Ron."

---

Well, I really hope you liked it. And no, Ron doesn't leave in my version!

Though when Ron leaves in the book is surely his lowest moment in the series, I think that, when people talks horribly about him, maybe considering him weaker than the others, they forget that Ron is he only one who can really go back home, just like Hermione tells him. That is one of the reasons the locket preys on him so hard.

We've got to remember that Voldemort is intelligent, and very cunning, as befitting of a true Slytherin. The locket is him, after all, so it adapts to the circumstances. Here, Ron is the obvious target to attack to debilitate the trio. Not just is him the only one who can safely leave, but his insecurities and the worry about his family make him the easiest target. Besides, Ron is — for me — the glue of the trio. Surely Harry and Hermione love each other very much, but they both love Ron more. By getting rid of Ron, the locket would take out part of their hopes and their desire to fight.

Now, many people put the emphasis of the locket attack on Ron's jealousy about Harry and Hermione, but, though that was part of it, I think that the most important reason Ron left was due to the fear for his family. In the book we don't know what the lockets tells him, but here we see how he taints him about the fate of his family is he is discovered with Harry Potter in a mission that goes nowhere. And in the book, it is an argument about Ron's family that triggers the events that end up with him leaving.

Now, however, him leaving in the book was a victory for the horcrux for a very, very narrow margin, as Ron himself says that he regretted it the moment he Apparated away, and in fact tries to come back, but can't due to circumstances. Here, the locket loses by that same narrow margin.

In the book the locket uses Ron's insecurities against him, especially his worth and the way Hermione might see him when compared to Harry. Here he knows she loves him, and he is more confident due to his sexual prowess. So I had the locket adapt to that, and use the sexual part of their relationship against them. Instead of Ron thinking Hermione does not want him, it makes him believe she only wants him for the sexual release he is able to provide, and, in the case of Hermione, it makes her believe the only reason Ron is with her is because she acts more like a 'slut' in bed than Lavender.

(And let me know how disgusted I am at this idea of passionate and very sexual women be considered by some people somewhat 'slutty', and if they should act like prudes and only men could be dominated by their sexual needs! So no, neither Hermione nor Lavender are, or act, like sluts, even if in a chapter Ron and Hermione roleplay using that word. They are passionate and they like sex and hooray for them!)

Of course, the locket would have Ron taken Hermione by force, but, unless he had managed to possess him — and maybe not even then — that is impossible to achieve. So it instead turns the sex into just an act of lust and possession, instead of desire and love. Both acts are consensual, but, as triggered by the wrong reasons, it helps the locket to separate them, weakening their link and increasing their doubts about the other.

As I say, the Voldemort is very, very cunning.

Of course, he doesn't understand love, and here, besides their love for each other, Ron and Hermione share a magical link base on that love, so, in the end, the locket loses!

Now, as you can predict, the story will change more as the destruction of the horcrux can't happen the same way. But to know how the story is going to continue, you'll have to keep reading!

I really hope you liked this chapter, and sorry for the long and boring note. See you next week with a one-shot and then another chapter. Please, tell me what you thought of this chapter!