Shell Cottage fics have been done about ten million times before, so naturally I decided to do one. It was supposed to be fluffy but somehow ended up a little smutty as well, but I do not apologize for that ;)

Cheesy (yeah, you've heard of her before) has graciously offered to beta this, so thanks to the nicest, cheesiest person in the world! She is also responsible for the title!

oOo

A terrified scream broke Ron out of a restless sleep, his body instantly shooting up from the chair he'd been dozing in. In less than two seconds, he'd jumped from the chair onto the small, twin sized bed and pulled Hermione's writhing body to his. He held her tight, her screams sending bolts of tortuous agony straight to his heart. He'd never wanted to hear those screams again, and yet he had several times since they'd arrived at Shell Cottage, and twice already that night.

"Hermione. Hermione, it's okay," he soothed with his lips against her ear. "It's not real. I'm here. I'm here."

He hoped his voice was calming even though his words were coming out broken. "I'm not going to let them hurt you again. Never again," he promised.

Hermione's screams stopped sooner than they had the last time. Ron released a breath of relief, his heart still hammering so hard against his chest that he felt faint.

"Ron?" Hermione croaked, her hands now clutching his shirt, pulling at it with a strength he was surprised she possessed after all she'd been through.

"It's me," he assured. "I'm here. I'm not leaving."

Hermione said nothing, but Ron could feel her body start to slowly relax against his, though her tight grip on his shirt remained.

"Do you need anything?" he asked in a soft voice. "Some water? Food? Fleur left you a bowl of soup. It's under a warming spell, and I can-"

Hermione shook her head. "I'm not hungry. I'll take some water, though."

This was their second night at Shell Cottage, and Hermione had barely had a bite to eat since arriving. She was already much too thin, and Ron knew that eating would only help her regain her strength. He bit back the urge to argue with her, and instead grabbed Pettigrew's wand from the waistband of his pyjama bottoms. Sighing, he summoned the empty glass on the bedside table, catching it in mid-air before filling it with water.

Hermione's hands shook as she let go of him to take the cup, drinking half the glass before handing it back to him. Ron finished the rest of the glass in one gulp before leaning backwards to place it on the nightstand.

"I'll eat breakfast tomorrow," Hermione said, breaking the silence. "A full plate. I'll force it down if I have to." She gave him a small smile, and Ron was powerless against smiling back.

"I'm just worried about you," he murmured.

"I know you are," Hermione replied as she sat up further, scooting so that her knees touched his outer thigh. "But I'll be okay. I'm tougher than I look, you know."

Ron closed his eyes. "No shit," he muttered, remembering what she had been through at Malfoy Manor just two days before.

He felt a featherlight touch on his jaw, and his eyes snapped open to find Hermione's fingertips on him, her eyes searching his.

"I'm glad you're the one taking care of me," she whispered.

The words, although probably meant to be taken as some sort of compliment, only made Ron wince as a feeling of inadequacy washed over him.

"Don't," Hermione snapped, almost harshly. "I know you, Ron, and I know what you're thinking right now. Stop it."

Ron sighed. "You shouldn't have to be taken care of, Hermione. I failed you. "

She glared at him. "You didn't fail me. You saved me." Ron opened his mouth to deny it, but Hermione cut him off. "You are the only reason I'm alive right now, Ron. You got me out of there. Not anyone else. You."

Ron could only shake his head as his eyes turned down to stare at the quilted design on the bed.

"I heard you screaming, you know." Hermione went on, her voice raw with emotion. "I think it saved me from losing my mind. I tried to focus on your voice. I needed to know that I would see you again- that I would get a chance to tell you how I feel about you."

Ron sniffed, his hand moving up to wipe the tears that were now streaming down his face. His chest was tight, and he was trying his best not to lose it, Hermione's words simultaneously elating and devastating him.

"Do you want to know how I feel, Ron?" she asked as she scooted even closer to him.

Still unable to speak, Ron could only nod.

"I think you're the most wonderful person I've ever met," she said. "You are so brave, and so strong. You try to hide it, but you have the biggest heart out of anyone I know, and you care so much for those closest to you. You're not perfect, but nobody is and I don't expect you to be. You are the one person who knows me better than I know myself- which should be scary, but because it's you, it's not." She paused, and Ron heard her take a deep, shaky breath. "And when I heard you screaming for me from down in that cellar, Ron, I knew for the first time, without a doubt, that you love me as much as I love you."

The words broke the last of Ron's resistance, and his hands came up to his face as he hunched forward. His body shook as he finally allowed himself to cry. Only a moment later, he felt Hermione's arms wrap around him and squeeze him tight, furthering his tears. He felt pathetic, but was unable to stop, knowing that he needed to let it all out. He gave himself over to everything he'd been holding back- from the stress of the hunt, to the guilt he still felt over leaving, and finally, the hell they'd experienced at Malfoy Manor. Several minutes later, once he'd quieted, he felt a lot better, yet incredibly embarrassed.

"Stay with me?" Hermione asked. "Hold me?"

"Okay," Ron nodded, pulling the covers back so he could climb in beside her. He lay on his back, and Hermione snuggled into his side, her head resting on his chest with her arm slung over him, one of her legs overlapping his.

"I love you, Ron. I always have."

"I love you too. So much," he replied in a whisper, not used to being able to say it out loud.

"Goodnight, " she told him, and Ron could hear the smile in her voice.

"G'night," he said back, pulling her in closer as he moved his lips to kiss the top of her head.

Over the years, Ron had thought about the prospect of sharing a bed with Hermione many times. While admittedly most of his thoughts went to certain activities they would do together in said bed, right now, just being with her like this put a smile on his face. Truthfully, he'd thought it would be more nerve-wracking, and was surprised it wasn't. Instead, it felt almost natural, like he'd always held Hermione against him like this.

Sleep came easily after that.

oOo

The next time Ron woke, it wasn't due to screams, but instead due to the feeling of fingertips gently running over his chest. He opened his eyes, watching in awe as Hermione's hand skimmed over the fabric of his shirt, as if trying to learn the intricacies of his body.

"Say something. I know you're awake," she said, her voice groggy with sleep.

Ron chuckled. "How did you know that? I didn't move."

"Your breathing changed."

He yawned. "Did you have another nightmare?"

"No. Quite the opposite, actually." Her fingers stopped moving, and Ron could sense that she was nervous as she went on. "I dreamed you and I were in bed together, except we weren't here at Shell Cottage. We were in your room, and we- well, we were both wearing much less clothing than we are now."

The words caused Ron's body to physically jolt. He swallowed thickly. "Really?"

Hermione nodded, her head still against his chest.

"So. Um. What exactly were we doing?" he asked, trying to sound collected, but failing miserably as his voice shook.

Hermione lifted her head and gave him a shy smile. "I think you already know the answer to that question, Ron."

Ron licked his lips, his body now tingling all over. "You think about that? With me?"

She nodded, the smile still on her face. "Of course. I told you I loved you, remember? It's only natural that I would think about you like that."

"Oh," he said, feeling stunned by this new revelation.

"Is it that surprising?"

Ron snorted. "Well, yeah."

Hermione frowned. "Why?"

"Because I never- I mean, I just found out-" Ron sighed, trying to find the right words. "I always hoped, but I never believed that I had any chance with you, Hermione. And I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I do have a chance, so I haven't exactly had the time to even consider anything else, you know, like that."

"Have you ever thought about me? Us, together, I mean?" she asked.

Ron couldn't help but laugh out loud at the ridiculous question. "Only all the bloody time!" He paused, hoping he wasn't giving her the wrong impression. "That's not all I think about, though," he hurried to clarify. "I think about the little stuff as well. From doing something as simple as holding your hand, or wrapping my arms around you for no reason other than I want to hold you. I think about kissing you, too. Every kind of kiss there is. Kissing you in the morning after waking up, interrupting you while you're reading to kiss you- Hell, I think about how hot you look when you're all riled up and mad at me and how much I want to just push you against the wall mid-sentence and snog you senseless."

Ron took in a sharp breath as he felt Hermione's thigh slide further between his legs, her body following as she moved until she was lying on top of him, her chest pressing against his. Part of him wanted to apologize to her for being able to feel the evidence of what she was doing to him, but then again, she had been the one to move on top of him like this, so he said nothing.

"Let's hold off on throwing me against the wall," she said, an amused grin on her face. "At least until I feel better."

Unable to resist, Ron tangled one of his hands into the hair at the back of her head and pulled her down to him, his lips finally, finally, meeting hers. Millions of times he'd imagined what kissing Hermione would be like, and it was even better than anything he'd ever conjured in his mind.

Hermione was kissing him back with the same enthusiasm, small whimpers escaping her throat as her hands moved under his shirt, her fingers skimming his sides. She broke away, panting, sitting up so that she was straddling him. Giving him a sly smile, she reached down and grabbed the dressing gown she was wearing and pulled it over her head in one quick motion. Ron lay there under her, spellbound. She wasn't wearing a bra, and all that was left on her body was a pair of simple white knickers. Ron's eyes traveled over her bare skin, drinking her in, unable to stop from blinking several times as if to make sure this was really happening. Hermione shifted, causing Ron to groan as she pushed against the part of him that wanted her so much.

"Sorry," she whispered.

When Ron again looked at her face, he saw a nervous kind of vulnerability, and it almost made him laugh because she was so bloody perfect. Struggling a bit because he was still laying down, he pulled his shirt over his head, discarding it carelessly to the floor. Hermione's eyes went to his chest, drinking him in as he had done to her. He didn't think him being shirtless was something to write home about, but from the expression on Hermione's face it would seem as if she disagreed. Ron reached out, placing his large hands on her shoulders, urging her back to him. She fell back to her previous position and their lips met again. The skin of their torsos pressed together, the sensation better than anything he'd ever felt before.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Ron was grabbing hold of Hermione, flipping her over in one smooth motion so that his body was on top of hers, pushing her small frame into the mattress. He went to move back, scared of hurting her, but Hermione's arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him even tighter against her. Her legs moved up to wrap around his waist, and Ron could feel the warmth between them. Instinctively he moved against her, causing both of them to gasp.

He wanted her.

He needed her.

When Ron pressed himself against her again, this time with more force, Hermione let out a small noise of discomfort and the noise snapped him back to reality.

She'd been bloody tortured.

This was not the time for this. He was supposed to take care of her, not ravish her like some randy git. Pulling away, he kissed her once more on the lips before rolling off, laying down on his back next to her as he tried to regain his breath.

"Ron?" Hermione asked, her voice confused and hurt.

"You've been through enough, Hermione. This isn't the time for-" Ron waved his hand in the air between them, "-this."

He chanced a look over at her to see her brows furrowed. "I'm fine, Ron. My body's a little sore, yes, but I trust you and know you won't hurt me. If that's what you're worried about."

Ron turned on his side, running his hand down the side of her face. "What do you want?"

Hermione placed her hand on top of his, moving her head to kiss his open palm. "I want to feel. I want to not think about this war- to forget what happened at Malfoy Manor. I want you, the person I'm in love with, to take it all away- if only for a little while."

Ron felt that tightening in his chest yet again, but this time it was paired with so much love for the girl in front of him he could hardly stand it.

He licked his lips. "Okay. I can try. But, Hermione, if at any point you aren't comfortable, or if you change your mind, or if-"

"That's not going to be a problem," Hermione said, cutting him off. "Like I said before, I trust you, Ron."

"I don't think we should-" he started, fishing for the right words. "-go all the way." Ron saw disappointment in her face, so he hurried on. "I want to. Buggering fuck, I want to. I just don't feel comfortable going that far right now. You're still recovering, and dammit, Hermione, if I were to cause you even an ounce of pain so soon after…." He stopped, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I would hate myself for it. I really would."

Hermione gave him a small nod of understanding, and Ron smiled at her. "That doesn't mean I can't try and make you feel good, though," he said in a low voice as he ran his hand from her shoulder, down her chest until he was cupping her breast. He squeezed her nipple between his thumb and index finger, watching as Hermione's eyes widened and she let out a small gasp.

Ron leaned in, scooting so that the front of his body was flush with hers, their lips meeting in a slow, but sensual kiss. The hunger he had for her was still there, of course, but Ron didn't let it take over again, instead allowing himself to make this solely about Hermione. His hand went to rest on her thigh, and she moved her leg further up on his hip, pressing herself more firmly against him.

He smiled against her lips, hardly believing that she could possibly want him as much as he wanted her. He shifted her so that she was again on her back, with Ron on his side next to her, their lips still moving together in a way that he knew he'd never get enough of. Being slow and watching for any signs of hesitancy, he moved his hand down the center of her body. Hermione's breath became labored, the soft skin of her stomach heaving against his rough hand. When Ron got to the waistband of her knickers, he slipped his hand under the fabric, hesitating only a moment before Hermione urged him on with a soft moan.

Both of them too overwhelmed to keep kissing, Ron moved his face to her neck, licking and sucking her skin as he pushed a finger inside her, her flesh hot and slick with want. Hermione arched her back, a strangled noise escaping her throat as Ron used the pad of his thumb to stroke her where he knew she needed him to, his index finger now moving in and out at a slow pace.

For the first time, Ron was grateful that Lavender had taught him how to do this, but after a brief mental thanks to her, he pushed all thoughts of his ex-girlfriend out of his mind. Once he felt Hermione was ready, he added a second finger, moving his thumb over her more firmly.

She was getting close. Ron could tell by her whimpers and the way her head was moving back and forth on the pillow, her hair a wild mess around her head. Leaning his head down, he took her nipple in his mouth, and with one long, drawn-out moan, Hermione came undone, clenching around his finger as she rode out her high. Afterwards, her body was limp and covered with a thin sheet of sweat, with loud pants leaving her mouth as she regained her breath. Ron pressed a feather-light kiss to her lips and she opened her eyes, staring up at him in astonishment.

"Was that good?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"Amazing," she replied.

Ron sat up, his eyes searching for her night dress. She needed sleep, and he didn't want anybody to barge in the next morning and see her state of undress.

Hermione stopped him, grabbing his arm. "Where are you going?"

He turned his wrist, taking her hand in his. "Just looking for your nightdress."

"What about-" Her eyes went to his lower body, where evidence that he had yet to be satisfied was visible through his thin, flannel pyjama bottoms.

He shook his head, glad that it was dark enough so Hermione wouldn't be able to see his surely red cheeks. "Nah, it's fine. I'll just lay down and think of something else and it will-"

"Well, that's hardly fair!" Hermione proclaimed, frowning. "You get to touch me, but I don't get to touch you?"

Ron's mouth opened and closed as he tried to comprehend her words. "You want to touch me?"

Hermione nodded as she folded her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Well, I figured you were tired, and because you haven't gotten enough proper sleep lately, you-"

Ron's words were cut off, his mouth opening in a small groan as Hermione moved her hand between his legs, running her palm down the length of him. She was touching him through two layers of fabric, but Ron already felt as if he were going to explode.

"Take them off?" she asked, fingering his pyjama bottoms.

Ron groaned, moving to his knees so he could do as she asked. In a matter of seconds, he was as starkers as he'd been the day he'd been born, and he looked to Hermione to gauge her reaction. Her eyes were wide, and she was staring at him as if he were a complicated problem she was trying to solve. He was about to open his mouth and ask her again if she was sure she wanted to do this, but before he could get a word out, she was grasping him with her small hand.

"Fuck," he hissed, caught off guard.

"Like this?" she asked as she started moving her hand up and down, and Ron could only nod in response, his eyes closing as he tried to breathe properly. As she continued, her grip got tighter, her movements faster, and only a few minutes later Ron was groaning as he came all over himself and Hermione's hand.

While he was still panting, Hermione grabbed Pettigrew's wand and cleaned both of them up before laying back down, a satisfied smile on her face.

"Bloody hell," Ron breathed as they rolled to their sides, facing each other. "Did that really just happen?"

"It did."

"Forget anything else. I just want to spend the rest of my life in bed with you."

Hermione laughed. "That's hardly practical."

"Fuck practicality," he responded, moving his body so he could kiss her. "I love you so bloody much."

"I love you too." Hermione's eyes fluttered shut, and Ron wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

There was still so much they needed to do, but right now, there was this.