Ron ran a hand distractedly through his already messy ginger hair and winced. He ached. Everywhere. His whole body felt ready to drop from exhaustion and he could feel his patience wearing thin as they waited for the all clear to take their captive via portkey through to the Ministry. All he wanted to do was get home, shower, eat something hot, crawl into bed next to his wife and sleep for a day or two. His attention re-focused when he realised Harry was talking to him.

'Sorry mate,' he said, shaking his head and looking at his best friend. If Harry's appearance was anything to go by, he felt just as bad as Ron. 'What did you say?'

'I said it won't be long now, they're just activating things on their end.' Harry gave him a worn smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Ron simply nodded and shifted his weight to his other foot, willing the biting in his knee to subside.

'You'll never get us all, you know.' The voice was quiet and for a moment Ron thought he'd imagined it in his delirious state, before remembering the third member in their party.

'Shut up,' Harry sighed at their captive, rubbing his fingers against his tired eyes and nearly losing his glasses in the process.

'I'm serious,' the Death Eater said. Ron turned to look at him, and found that despite the haunted and gaunt features of his face the man was smirking at him. 'We're everywhere. We still meet up when we can, dodging you Aurors all over the world. You might catch a few of us but you'll never stop us all.'

'Seriously, just give it a rest,' Harry snapped. Ron could feel the tether of his patience tighten in his chest, and he knew his ears were probably reddening as he tore his eyes from the man's face. Come on, how long does it take to authorise a bloody portkey?

'We talk about you three, when we meet up.' Ron stiffened. He looked at Harry, whose eyes had widened at the words. Harry very slightly shook his head, but Ron still felt his wand hand clench as he tried to block the words out. The man laughed and continued, 'Usually it's about what we would do to that pretty little witch.'

'You need to shut the fuck up right now.' Harry snarled at the Death Eater, and keeping him within close reach, subtly shifted towards Ron. Ron was struggling to maintain his control, the pressure in his chest tightening as the sound of his own increased heart rate rushed in his ears.

'Mostly we talk about what it's going to be like, when we finally do get our hands on her,' the Death Eater all but whispered, and moistened his lips with his tongue. 'And what it would feel like to rip out chunks of that curly hair of hers as we pass her around -'

The tether snapped. His wand was in his hand and raised before he had even registered what was happening. All he could see was red as he drew a deep breath.

'Cruc-' the wind was knocked out of him as a strong arm ploughed into his stomach. He gasped and spluttered, and fought against the grip suddenly wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his sides. His blood boiled and he thought his head would explode, he needed to make that pathetic piece of shit pay ...

'Don't.' The voice in his ear was soft and familiar, and his vision cleared enough to let him see that it was Harry who had stopped him, Harry who had his arms wrapped so tightly around his torso. 'I know he deserves it and worse, but don't.'

Harry's words sunk further through the red mist, and Ron stopped fighting and slumped forward. When he nodded gently, Harry released him and, pulling his own wand, efficiently gagged the Death Eater who had been laughing at Ron's reaction to his words. Ron felt faint but managed to stay on his feet, and straightened as the umbrella sticking into the ground in front of them finally, finally, gave off a faint silver glow.

-

Ron didn't remember much after that, but now he was sitting in Robards' office, alone. His head was in his hands and his knee was shaking from tension, nerves, exhaustion and embarrassment.

What a tool, he thought to himself. You've really done it this time, Weasley, you stupid hot headed prick. Probably best to get your badge out so you can hand it over.

Before he could move to do this, the door to the office opened and Robards strode in. Ron stood up quickly, but Robards held up a hand and indicated for Ron to sit back down as he made his way behind his desk and took his own seat. Ron's hands shook against the arms of the chair as he waited for Robards to stop shuffling his bloody papers and just fire him. Robards, sensing Ron's discomfort, cleared his throat and looked him in the eye.

'We've de-briefed Potter. We know how the mission went. I'm sorry you lads were out so long without proper back-up, we tried to do a shift change with you but things are still just so ...' Lost for words, Robards indicated his in-tray, which overflowed in high piles along the entire length of his 6 foot wide desk.

'We understand, Sir. We know how bad it is at the moment,' Ron mumbled. 'Sir, I-'

Robards held up a hand to stop him, and rubbed at his forehead as he sighed deeply.

'It's a bloody good job you've got such a solid team there, between the two of you,' he said, looking at Ron with a tired smile. Ron waited for him to continue, suddenly not sure of where he stood. This didn't sound like a stripping-you-of-your-rank kind of speech. 'You're a well matched pair, and with everything you boys have been through sometimes I think we inadvertently take advantage of that and give you the harder missions. I know -' he continued, cutting through Ron's attempt to protest, '- how you both feel about being treated differently from the rest of the team, and we have tried very hard to respect that and not make it seem like we're handing out any special privileges, but perhaps that has meant we have leant on you too far the other way, and for that I can only apologise.'

Ron opened his mouth, but couldn't think of anything to say other than an awkward, 'S'alright.' Ron rubbed at the back of his neck, embarrassed as he always was whenever anyone mentioned the events of 4 years ago and the role he and his friends had played in the downfall of the worst wizard in history.

'That doesn't mean, however,' Robards continued, slightly more seriously, 'that you can go around attempting to curse captives.' Ron met his eyes.

'I'm sorry, Sir, it won't happen again. I'll do whatever it takes to make this right.'

'I know you will, Weasley,' Robards said softly, and Ron felt a blush creep up his neck. 'That's why you and Potter are taking a month off AS PER PROTOCOL.' This last part drowned out and abruptly stopped Ron's protests. 'You've both accumulated the leave and it'll give us time to make sure all the others from your cohort are up to snuff, so we can make sure the harder missions are more fairly dispersed. And on your return to work you're to attend a one month advanced course with the Auror training department about managing reactions when in the field. Clear?'

'Crystal, Sir.'

'Then go home, Weasley.' The softness was back in Robards' voice. 'Get some well-deserved rest. And thank you again for your outstanding work.' Robards stood up and offered Ron his hand. Ron stood and shook it, still feeling unsure about the outcome of the meeting, before turning and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

'How did it go?' Harry had been sat outside, clearly waiting for him. He smiled at his best friend, who grinned back.

'One month off and I have to attend anger management when we come back,' Ron shrugged, and Harry barked out a laugh and punched him lightly on the shoulder. They started making their way towards the Floo Network corridor, both eager to start their leave as soon as possible.

'You tosser, you could have really blown it, you know?'

'I know, and thanks, mate. I don't know what I'd have done if you weren't there. It was when he started to talk about her, I just -'

'I know,' Harry said, clenching his fist. 'I wanted to hurt him too. And if he'd mentioned Ginny, I probably would have reacted in exactly the same way and it'd have been you holding me back.' Ron heard the sincerity in his friend's voice, and clapped him hard on the back.

'Thanks,' he grinned, then stopped as the colour drained from his face, leaving his freckles to stand out very clearly against suddenly milk-white flesh. Harry looked at him in alarm. 'Shit, Harry. We're going home. What am I going to say? How can I face her after what I almost did?'

'You face her the same way you do every time we go home,' Harry replied, reassuringly. 'You're going home to your wife, and we both know how strong she is. She can take this. You both can.'

Ron nodded, unable to speak as the panic continued to grip his throat.

'Trust me,' Harry said, rubbing his hand over his dirty hair and stifling a yawn. 'She'd rather hear it from you. And knowing her, she'll know just what to say. Well,' they stopped in front of the fireplaces that were lined along each side of the corridor. There were no lines for them at the moment, and Ron wondered briefly what time it was. 'Have a good leave. Let's get together, yeah? The four of us can go out and really enjoy ourselves for once.'

'Yeah, sounds good,' Ron said, now able to return the smile Harry flashed him as he bent down into the nearest fireplace and spoke his address. Ron watched the green flames engulf his friend, and then he was alone. It was his turn to go home.

His worry turned into a nervous anticipation as he thought about what awaited him. A comfy bed. A hot shower. His beautiful, loving wife. He let out a weary sigh and ducked into the nearest fireplace, stating his address in a clear but tired voice, and felt the familiar flames lick up his legs.

-

He had barely straightened himself up as he stepped out of the hearth at the other end before something soft and warm hurtled into his chest. Bushy hair tickled his chin and he instinctively threw his arms around his attacker, widening his stance to steady them both.

'Hi,' he mumbled against the curls in his face. Those curls. He was home.

'Hi,' she whispered back, leaning away from him to turn her chocolate brown eyes up to his blue ones. Her eyes sparkled with tears, and he released one hand from her waist to cup her cheek, gently stroking a fallen tear away with a callused thumb. 'I've been waiting. Harry sent word to let me know you were coming home.'

He continued to look down into her face, so full of happiness at having him back. He could see that she hadn't been sleeping well while he was away - she had purple rings under her eyes and a slightly paler than usual complexion. He leaned down and kissed her lips softly, and both of them sighed deeply as their renewed connection effectively dismissed any tension they were feeling.

'I've missed you so much, 'Mione,' he muttered against her lips. 'It's been so long.'

'I know, but you're home now.' She broke their kiss to nuzzle against his chest, but quickly drew away again. 'You stink!'

'Oi!' He pretended to look offended, and she giggled at his wiggling eyebrows. 'It's not my fault. We've been out for 2 months! It's hard to find a decent shower on a stake-out.'

'Well, why don't you go and clean up, and then we can eat? I've prepared dinner for us.'

'Oh?' He tried and failed to not sound sceptical. Hermione was doing her best to learn how to cook, going over to Molly's every week to study under her vast knowledge of meal preparation, and though her cooking had improved significantly since they first started living together 3 years ago, there was still the occasional significant miss when she tried a new recipe. Hearing his uncertainty, Hermione laughed and threaded her hands around his neck.

'I ordered pizza,' she whispered conspiratorially, and he laughed back and lifted her off her feet.

'Bloody brilliant you are, Love,' he chuckled as he peppered kisses across her cheeks and nose before sinking into her lips again. He deepened the kiss and she sighed, melting her body against his. This prompted him to suck her lower lip between his teeth and bite gently into the soft flesh. She gasped through her nose, and suddenly pushed him away from her again, wrinkling her nose in disgust and laughing.

'Go. Clean. I'll be here when you get back.'

'Promise?'

'Always.'

With one last kiss pressed against her neck, Ron disentangled himself from her limbs and made his way upstairs to their master bathroom. He switched the water to almost blistering hot and quickly stripped off his clothing, which was stiff with days worth of sweat and mud and Merlin knew what else. He gasped as the hot water hit him, then groaned as he felt the tension in his shoulders and back being instantly relieved by the heat. He hung his head under the flow and watched the thickened, brown sludge draining away down the plug hole, waiting for it to run clear.

As he reached for the shampoo, he remembered everything that had happened a couple of hours before. He shuddered, and the feeling of panic began to rise in his throat again. He needed to tell her. He rinsed the last of the soap from his body, feeling more prepared now but still apprehensive. Harry had been right, he thought. She was strong. The strongest woman he knew, alongside his mother. She could take it. But his question was, should she have to? Her lack of sleep was probably due to the nightmares that always seemed to return when he was away for long periods of time. Should he be burdening her with this, too?

Ron switched off the shower and dried himself thoroughly with a thick, grey towel he found waiting for him, warming on the radiator. He knew she had put it there for him in preparation for his return, and his heart swelled painfully in his chest. He loved her so much, he wasn't sure how he managed to hold it all inside him.

Rubbing the towel over his hair, he wandered into their bedroom and pulled on his comfiest threadbare white t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms. These had been waiting for him at the end of the bed, and he grinned at the mental image of her running round the house as soon as she got word from Harry, getting all of his favourite things out and ready for him. Tears prickled his eyes and he pushed them away with the heals of his palms, thanking every deity and ancient wizard he could think of that he had married the most amazing, thoughtful witch. He returned his towel to the bathroom and made his way back downstairs.

He found Hermione sitting on the rug in the front room, smiling up at him and putting aside the book she had been reading as he entered. He sat down next to her and took in the familiar surroundings of their front room, grateful to be home. The fire was still roaring, but had changed in colour to a slightly warmer shade of orange, indicating that their Floo connection was locked. In front of Hermione was a large flat cardboard box, which had an amazing smell coming from it and a picture of a pizza chef grinning up from the front. Ron always found it funny that the chef didn't move, but you couldn't get pizza in the wizard world and he was happy to let it slide.

Hermione handed him a glass of butterbeer, and he took a large mouthful, moaning at the smooth, pleasant taste. He turned to grin at her, but his smile faltered as he took in her expression. She was waiting. And he knew what for. He sighed, and put his glass down so he could face her, crossing his long legs in front of him. He ran a hand through his damp hair, gripping it until his scalp hurt and he had to start talking.

'I almost cursed a captive tonight,' he sighed. He saw her stiffen, but she didn't stop him or move away, so he ploughed on. 'Would have done, too, if Harry hadn't been there. It was a Death Eater, and he was trying to rile us up on purpose. And shit, I don't know, I was so tired and past it and I just wanted to be home, but then he started talking about you and I just ...' he struggled for the words for a while before ending, rather lamely, 'I just lost it.' The flush was creeping up his neck and into his ears, and he struggled to meet her eyes, not wanting to see the disgust or disappointment there.

'Ron,' she mumbled softly, and he felt her small fingers slide under his chin and tip his head back so he was forced to look at her. He held his breath, but it left him again quickly when he saw her eyes. They were filled with hurt, and tears were rolling down her cheeks. He tried to pull away, but she moved her hand to the back of his neck, keeping him close to her. 'Thank you for telling me. I can't imagine what it's like for you.'

He shook his head, baffled. He opened his mouth, but she continued speaking before he could say anything. 'The war ... even though I have my scars, as we all do, the war is somewhat ... over for most of us. I mean, I relive parts of it in my nightmares, when you've been away from our bed for a while' (I knew it, he thought bitterly) 'but I can go to work and fight for rights for those who don't have them and probably never would if the war hadn't happened. I get to make positive changes and see the world being made new but you, and Harry and the other Aurors, you're all still picking up the pieces of the mess that was left behind. I'm so proud of you. That takes so much strength.'

''Mione,' he choked, and wondered vaguely how long he'd been crying. 'You're amazing. I'm so happy you're doing what you love and making the world a better place. I always knew you would. But what Harry and I are doing ...' he shook his head and fought through the emotion to blurt out, 'Sometimes it feels pointless. There's still so much to do and I can't just keep losing my shit and- and-' his breath caught in his throat and his words died.

She opened her arms and he fell into them, his head buried in her chest and his arms tight around her waist. She wrapped herself around him, one hand in his hair, one at his back, her ankles locked around his hips. She pressed her lips to his head and muttered soothing words into his hair, stroking his scalp and holding him as he sobbed. As his tears subsided, he was suddenly and instantly reminded of just how tired he was. She was so soft and warm and he finally felt safe now that he was back in her arms, and it was as though this was the permission his body needed to give out. He tried to fight it, but it was useless. The last words he heard her murmur as he slipped into unconsciousness were, 'You're home. We're safe. I love you so much.'

-

Ron opened his eyes slowly, disorientated. He wasn't lying on the ground sheet of his mission tent, as he'd expected. This realisation caused him to sit bolt upright, and he heard a soft moan from someone at his left. That hadn't been Harry's voice. As his heart rate slowed and he took in the dim room, the memory of last night returned to him. Underneath him he could feel the thick carpet of his front room. To his right, the fire had burned down to embers but was still giving off heat. A large flat cardboard box remained off to the side, next to two half-empty glasses of butterbeer. A soft, light duvet pooled in his lap, and to his left ...

Hermione lay curled against his side, smiling gently in her sleep. The sight of her made him catch his breath again as he remembered sinking helplessly into her and passing out. She must have summoned their bedding and laid down next to him, right there on the floor. He felt the familiar swell of his heart as he was reminded of how much he loved her. He laid back down and snuggled into her, pressing his nose into the soft curve of her neck as he pulled her small body tightly against his own. He gently kissed the scar at the base of her throat, the only one that had refused to fade with time or magic. She sighed, and he knew she was awake when her hands stroked through his hair.

'I love you. So much,' he mumbled against the warm smooth skin of her neck. 'I'm so sorry about last night.'

'I love you. Please don't ever be sorry. I'm so glad you share these things with me. There's been enough silence between us to last a lifetime, don't you think?'

He chuckled at her reference to the years they'd wasted dancing around each other, and pulled her tighter to him. 'I'm so lucky. I don't know what I'd do without you.'

'Only took you 6 years and a war to figure that out,' she teased again. He growled playfully and rolled her onto her back, pinning her slender wrists above her head with one of his much larger hands. Her squeal turned into a moan as he slid his knee between her legs and his other hand under her, pressing into her back and making her arch towards him as his teeth nipped at her neck. 'Ron ...'

He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a sudden loud gurgling. She laughed at the confused look on his face.

'You're hungry, my love,' she said, still giggling, and he laughed too as his stomach repeated the noise.

'It would seem I am. I wonder how I might ever fulfil my appetite?' He dipped his head back down to her neck, alternatively biting and licking the flesh from under her ear down to her collarbone, where he suctioned onto the sensitive area between her neck and shoulder.

'Oh, Ron,' she whimpered, her hips bucking slightly in response to his attentions. But his traitorous stomach growled louder, and she pushed him off her gently, laughing. 'There's plenty of time for that. Let's eat first.'

'But I've missed you,' he mock-pouted, his hand running from her back up her side, gently grazing the edge of her breast on it's way. Her eyelids flickered shut and she shivered underneath him, but she caught his hand in her own to stop it's movements and when she opened her eyes again he could see her resolve.

'Later. I promise, you can have anything you want later.' She kissed the back of his hand, then wriggled out from underneath him. He groaned at the loss of her and slumped into the carpet, feeling his semi-erection press into the thick material. He turned his head to watch her walking over to her wand and then towards the abandoned pizza box, admiring her smooth, toned legs, her beautiful round arse hidden from his view by a pair of thin cotton bed shorts. His erection stirred underneath him, and he rolled onto his side to watch her walking back to him. She lowered herself back down to the carpet and tapped the top of the pizza box with her wand. Steam rose from the sides of the carton, bringing with it that intoxicating smell that he had only discovered recently when they'd bought a house in a Muggle neighbourhood.

'Pepperoni?' he asked hopefully.

'Of course.'

'Bloody brilliant,' he grinned. He sat up and she placed the box between them. He opened it, pulled a hot, stringy slice from the box and bit into it enthusiastically. It was very hot, and he had to chew with his mouth open to suck cold air in to cool the food.

'Ew, Ron,' Hermione frowned at him, but he could still see that hint of affection in her eyes and knew she wasn't too upset.

'Sorry, Love. Forgot how - ow, hot - bloody hungry I was. Thanks for this!' He smiled at her, and she laughed and leaned forward to wipe sauce from his chin before taking her own piece from the box and taking a more dainty bite.

She'd bought an extra large pizza, knowing that he and Harry sometimes forgot to look after themselves while on a mission, and although she was full after only a quarter of it Ron managed to polish off the rest. He sat back against their sofa with a contented sigh and patted his flat belly.

'I've no idea where you put it all, Ronald,' she smiled at him. She liked seeing her man sated. The memory of how broken he'd been the night before flashed briefly across her mind, but she pushed it away. For now he seemed happy, rested and full, and that was all she needed to know.

'Goes straight to my muscles, Love,' he smirked, holding up his arm and flexing it to show off a bicep now well formed through years of physical training. She chuckled and shook her head, a curl falling across her face as she did so. He reached out automatically and tucked it behind her ear, then froze.

'Ron?' His face was palid and his hand, now cupping her cheek, was shaking.

'I was bloody stupid, 'Mione,' he whispered. 'I could have lost everything we've worked so hard for, all because of my temper. But the guy ... he mentioned your hair ...' he cut himself off, shaking his head. No, she didn't need to hear it all. He felt her small hand clasp his and she pulled his palm to her lips and held it there, waiting for him to continue.

It was something he had always admired about her, her seemingly natural knowledge of when to wait. Sure, she could sometimes find it hard to wait for things to be done, especially when she'd asked for something specific from someone or when it came to wanting to make changes to the laws, and yes this had caused many a row in the past, but it was in these moments that he was so clearly reminded of how compassionate she was. He scrambled to his knees, catching both her hands in his and pulling her closer to him.

'I know it's something I need to work on, 'Mione, and Robards has offered to help me with that, which I plan to take him up on, but I need you to know that I'm not that immature boy who pulls his wand at the first insult anymore.' He was babbling, but he couldn't stop. 'I was overtaken with the thought that someone was still out there, trying to hurt you, and I couldn't help it. I'd never forgive myself if you were in harm's way. I love you so much, you're my reason for breathing. Please don't think any less of me for this.' He stammered to a halt, his eyes searching hers desperately. She cupped his face in her hands and leaned forwards, kissing him softly.

'I know, Ron. These last few years ... they're hard to forget. I could sit here and remind you that I fought alongside you and that I can take care of myself, but I know you know that. Just promise me you won't put yourself in any more danger trying to protect me. We're OK, we're safe. You're helping to keep us all safe. And I love you. So much. I see how you've grown, even if you still infuriate me sometimes. But just know that I feel safe knowing you're out there making sure this thing can one day truly be over ... even if I wish you weren't away from me for such long periods of time. I miss you.'

'I missed you too, 'Mione. I love you,' he sighed, and leaned forwards to catch her lips with his. She returned his kiss, her hands sliding from his cheeks to tangle in his ginger hair and tug it gently. He groaned softly into her mouth, suddenly aware of how thin both of their shirts were. He had missed her body, yes, but he had also missed this feeling of completeness that he felt whenever she was in his arms or holding his hand. Hell, he even felt it when they sat on the sofa on an evening, her curled at one end with a book and him at the other, watching the Muggle telly she'd had installed, the silence between them comfortable and her feet resting lightly against the side of his thigh. He pulled away to say this, but she gripped his face and dragged him back in.

'No more talking,' she murmured into his mouth, and he smiled at the familiar note of desire that turned her voice husky and slightly shaky. 'Tell me later.'

''Mione,' he sighed, and she groaned, pushing her body tighter against his. He was still sat on his knees, and he traced his hands slowly down her sides to grab her perfect arse. Quickly, he pulled her into his lap, and she straddled him, settling her body into his with another moan.

He released her lips and kissed slowly down her cheek, her jaw, her neck, to the flushing skin of her chest. There he flicked his tongue gently against the soft flesh at the top of her cleavage, and she arched her back, whimpering. He continued to suck this area and nip it with his teeth, enjoying the noises she was making and the way she began to move in his lap, his hands tracing slow patterns up and down her sides and back. Suddenly, he reached between them and grabbed the hem of her tank top, pulling upwards. She leaned back so he could strip the item of clothing away from her, and as he threw it behind her somewhere she grabbed his shirt and tugged. He reached behind his head and pulled the shirt up and over his back, tossing it in the same direction as hers.

She reached for him and began to lean forwards again, but he put a hand on her shoulder to keep her leaning back, his other hand snaking around her waist to support her. His eyes raked down her neck to her chest, to her newly exposed breasts, perky and creamy, with small pink nipples standing to attention. He returned his gaze to her face, noticing that her breathing was somewhat ragged and her cheeks were flushed, and she was doing that incredibly sexy thing of chewing her bottom lip to try and keep control of the lust he could see building in her eyes.

'Beautiful,' he said, and she smiled at him shyly.

'Touch me,' she breathed, and he complied, his hand drifting down from her shoulder, over her chest, to cup her right breast. He squeezed gently and flicked a thumb over her erect nipple, and her head fell back as she groaned with desire and ground her hips down against him. He moaned at the feeling, realising from this how hard he was for her. Tightening his grip on her waist, he lowered his head to her left breast and traced her nipple with his tongue, gently rolling the other between his fingers. She sighed, her hands back in his hair, pulling his face closer into her chest. 'More, Ronald ... please.'

He growled as she begged him, and realising his legs were going numb underneath him he tipped her backwards, controlling her descent to the carpet. He shifted over her and slid one of his knees between her legs again, both of them groaning as his erection throbbed against her hip bone. He moved his head to her right nipple and gave it the same attention with his mouth as he had her left, now kneading her wet and slightly swollen left breast with his rough fingers. She scratched her nails down his back, something that she'd learned in their years together drove him mad. He broke away from her breasts, growling at the feeling as his eyes rolled into his head slightly. When he looked back down at her, she was grinning up at him.

He leaned in to taste her lips again, the kiss hard and passionate, his tongue sliding against her lower lip and darting into her mouth to dance with hers. He slid his hand down her stomach and, when he reached her shorts, ran a finger against the skin under the elastic waistband. She shivered, and her thighs pressed around his as her hips bucked involuntarily against him. He grabbed the waistband and pulled, breaking their kiss so he could sit back and pull the flimsy material from her. She lifted her bum to help him, and he lifted her legs so he could strip her completely. His eyes drank in the sight before him: Hermione, completely naked, skin flushing pink under his gaze, thighs rubbing together and eyes sparkling with lust.

'I'll never get tired of this sight,' he sighed happily, and she bit her lower lip again and let out a small moan. Her eyes moved down his body and to his pajama bottoms, which were now straining tight at the front. She sat up and reached for his hips, pulling at the waistband. He stood up to take them off, and she knelt in front of him to help pull them down his legs. When his erection sprang free in front of her face, she whimpered and immediately wrapped a small hand around the base of it. He growled deep in his chest and fought against the sudden buckling of his knees as he watched her lean forward and flick her tongue gently against the tip, catching a glistening bead of pre-cum and swallowing it.

'You'll be the death of me, woman,' he panted. She grinned up at him and took more of his cock in her mouth, drawing another growl from him. He buried his hands in her curls, and unbidden, the Death Eater's words suddenly flowed back into his mind. She seemed to sense his hesitation, and released him from her mouth so she could look in his eyes, her fingers still running up and down his hard shaft.

'I'll never let anyone else touch my hair,' she said evenly. 'Never. It's only for you. I'm all yours.' He sighed as her words chased the last of his worry away, and tightened his grip as she wrapped her lips around him again, swirling her tongue against the pulse beating along the underside of his shaft, taking more and more of him in each time she bobbed her head.

When she had first tried to suck him, it had taken her a while to grow accustomed to his length and girth, and she had gagged against him a few times. When he'd protested that she didn't have to do this, she'd blushed scarlet and professed a dirty fantasy that she'd had for a long time. His eyes had almost popped out of his head when she told him she used to masturbate in her dorm room while thinking of them carrying out her fantasty, and she'd asked him to let her learn to control her gag reflex by practicing taking as much of him as she could whenever they were alone. This had been very early on in their dating, when they were still learning each other's bodies and kinks, and he'd almost came in his pants to hear prim and proper Hermione talking about things that he'd only ever read about in magazines, but he'd happily agreed to help her work up to what she wanted.

So now when she had him fully sheathed in her throat, her nose pressed to his stomach and her hands clasped behind her, he knew exactly what she wanted. And, from past experience, he knew how horny it would make her.

'Ah, so that's the kind of mood we're in, is it? You want me to be in charge tonight, Love?' She nodded her head, and he moaned as the action caused him to bob in and out of her tight, hot, wet throat. When he'd regained his composure, he looked back down at her and smoothed the hair away from her face. 'OK, but remember the rules, just say the word or make the move and we stop. Yes?' She closed her eyes and hummed her consent against his shaft, and he felt himself throb as she swallowed around him. He wrapped his hands tighter into the hair at the back of her head and waited for her to look up into his eyes.

'Ready?' he asked, and she hummed her tongue against him again. Ron pulled his glistening cock slowly from her throat, then eased it all the way back in. His eyes rolled into his head again, and he fought to remain in control of himself. He slowly began to thrust in and out of her mouth and down her throat, gradually picking up speed until he was fucking her face. She was moaning against him, and as he looked down into her eyes he could see her nipples standing very erect as her breasts swung gently with the force of his movement.

She suddenly coughed against him and her eyes rolled in her head, but she didn't raise her hand which was their agreed signal for him to stop immediately, so he continued his pace. When she returned her eyes to his, the pure lust he saw there tipped him over the edge.

'Oh fuck, 'Mione,' he groaned, and pulled back so that his cum spilled in thick, hot streams onto her tongue rather that into her throat. He staggered back slightly, dazed with the force of his orgasm, and his knees hit the sofa behind him, which he sank onto gratefully. Ron lifted his eyes to look at Hermione, and with a cheeky smirk she opened her mouth to show him his load on her tongue and then closed it again, visibly swallowing and licking her lips. His softening cock twitched.

'Dirty little witch,' he chuckled darkly. 'Come here.' She crawled obediantly towards him on hands and knees, and when she reached him she slid her hands up his thighs and pressed a kiss against his lips. He looked into her eyes. 'OK?'

'Better than OK,' she sighed happily. 'I've missed you.'

'I've missed you too,' he said, resting his forehead against hers. He breathed in deeply, smelling the scent of her shampoo mingling with the distinctive aroma of her arousal. He lifted his head and ran his hand up her back and under her hair, lightly gripping the back of her neck. 'Night's not over yet though.'

Maintaining eye contact, he reached out and pinched her nipple between his fingers, twisting gently. He chuckled again as her head fell back and she leaned further into him, her lips parting as a deep sigh escaped her. His hand stroked down her breast, his thumb rubbing against the sensitive skin on its underside. She squirmed, held in place with his hand at the base of her skull, her nails digging lightly into his thighs. He grinned, and his hand continued it's journey down her body, stroking her toned stomach and along her hip bone.

'Ron please,' she whimpered, her eyes dazed and her chest heaving.

'Tell me what you want, Love.' His thumb rubbed long, slow circles into her hip, and she shook her head slightly, biting her lip. He pressed harder and her eyes widened.

'Use your words, Baby. I love it when you talk dirty. Tell me what you want,' he said. She continued to pant, and tried to press her body further into his, her hand floating down to rest on his at her hip and trying to push it further down her body. He quickly grabbed her wrist and held it tightly, away from her body so that the only contact between them was his hand in her hair and hers frozen on his thigh. She whimpered at the loss of touch and tried to lean into him again but he held her firmly away.

'Hermione,' he growled. His voice held a warning tone, and he watched her body respond to it. She pressed her thighs together, seeking friction and chewing her lip, her eyes desperate and pleading. He leaned closer to her, hovering just far enough that she couldn't kiss him but close enough that she could feel his hot breath of her face as he commanded, 'Say it.'

'Touch me, Ron,' she whimpered. 'Please, it's been too long, I need to feel your fingers, your cock, I need ... I need you inside me ... inside my pussy -' he cut her off as he slammed his mouth to hers. She gasped and returned his harsh kiss, her eyes fluttering closed as he bit her lower lip. He let go of her wrist and his hand cupped her mound, and she ground down against him. His fingers slipped between her folds, and he broke their kiss with a snarl.

'Fuck, you're so wet. Is that what you wanted, 'Mione? Is this what you need?' She nodded, her whole body shaking as she dug her nails harder into his thighs. He stroked up between her soaking folds, and his finger brushed against her hardened clit. She cried out, arching her back, one of her hands flying to his head to grip his hair. He chuckled at her reaction, and started slowly circling her clit with his thumb. His long index finger slid back down towards her entrance, and he felt it get almost pulled into her. She pushed down against his hand, and his whole finger slid into her slick hole.

'Ron ...'

'Yeah, 'Mione?'

'Please ... more ...'

'Mmm, such lovely manners you have, Mrs Weasley.' He added a second finger inside her, and started pumping in and out of her tight pussy. As he pressed harder on her clit, he felt her walls contract around him, and suddenly her hands were on his shoulders, supporting herself as she rode his hand.

'Yes, right there, Ron, you make me feel so good ... oh I'm gonna ... oh ... Rooooooonnnnnn ...' Her eyes snapped shut, her head rolled forward against his chest and her thighs pressed together around his hand as she came hard. His hand was soaked with her fluids and he continued to roll his thumb against her clit to lengthen her orgasm, and she screamed lightly into his chest as her walls pulsed around his fingers. He held her to him until her quaking subsided into trembling and he was able to pull his hands from between her legs.

'How are we, Love?'

'Mmm,' she moaned, looking up from his chest and staring at him drunkenly. 'Oh Ron, that was amazing.'

'I'm glad you enjoyed it,' he smiled, then raised his hand to show her the wetness coating his fingers. 'But I'm afraid you've made a bit of a mess. How are we going to fix this?' Her eyes focused on his hand, and a lustful smile spread over her flushed face. She leaned forwards and sucked his fingers into her mouth, lapping her juices from his skin with her tongue and moaning at the taste. His cock had become fully erect again while he'd been pleasuring her, and it twitched painfully now as he watched her enjoy the taste of herself on his fingers.

'Hands and knees, 'Mione.' His tone was commanding, and she scrambled to obey, looking back at him over her shoulder as she raised her arse in the air invitingly. He slipped to his knees behind her, and he brought his hand sharply against her rounded arse cheek. She squealed, and wriggled her hips, her eyes staying locked to his. He grabbed her hips, positioned himself at her entrance, and quickly thrust his rock hard member deep into her dripping core. They both groaned loudly at their joining, and Ron lost no time in setting a quick, rough pace, his hips slamming against her perfect arse. She lowered her chest to the floor, deepening the angle of his cock inside her, and they both closed their eyes at the feeling.

Ron recovered first, and leaned forward to drag his short nails down Hermione's back. She cried out, and he felt her tightening around him already.

'Hold it, Love, please, cum with me,' he grunted out as he continued his pace.

'Oh ... Ron ... so ... close,' she panted, pushing back against her own arms on the floor as he continued to drive into her.

'Me too 'Mione, it's coming sweetheart ... oh fuck ... now 'Mione, cum with me Love!' He felt her clench tightly as she found her release, and the increased pressure around his member was the final push he needed. He shouted out as he spilled into her, and when he was finally spent he collapsed onto the rug next to her, panting hard. She lay flat out next to him. As he recovered, he rolled her over gently so he could cuddle into her back. He reached over and grabbed the duvet from where they'd abandoned it earlier, pulling it over both of them. He snuggled his long nose into the back of her slightly sweaty hair and breathed in contentedly. His arm wrapped around her and she wove her fingers through his, holding tight.

'I love you, 'Mione.'

'I love you Ron. I'm so glad you're home,' she whispered, and both of them drifted into peaceful sleep.