Author's Notes: I decided to post another part of my abandoned story since I actually like this one as well. It starts where my drabble #3 ("The Takeoff") finishes.

Rating: T, for mild graphicness.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Relaxation

"My legs are getting numb," Ron complained.

Hermione looked and could not help but sympathize. With his long legs, Ron was sitting in an awfully cramped position, his knees pressed tightly against the seat in front of him. She dearly hoped that the person occupying said seat would not tilt it for sleep, otherwise Ron would have a problem.

"We could get up and walk a bit," she suggested. "That helps."

Ron skeptically eyed the narrow aisle. "I doubt it," he said. "I can barely move my arms walking there. Who on earth do they build these planes for, garden gnomes?"

Hermione brought a hand to his thigh and gently rubbed it. "Don't worry. It'll be over soon."

Hermione was right - eventually it was over, but "soon" was surely up for debate. 28 hours, 42 minutes and 9 seconds later found a very disheveled Ron and an incredibly bushy-haired Hermione in front of the door to their hotel suite, both pale and with dark circles under their eyes. Rather bleary-eyed, Hermione erratically swiped her keycard over a scanner below the door handle until the lock finally clicked open.

The suite was decked in light colors and was reasonably spacious. It contained two queen-size beds, the one nearest them close to a window offering a stunning view at the nighttime city lights. There was also a large TV opposite the beds as well as a mini bar, a walk-in wardrobe and a bathroom cubicle on the far side of the suite. This all was courtesy of Harry who, in defiance of all their protests, had insisted in paying for the whole trip as a sort of thank-you gift for sticking with him during the Horcrux hunt.

Ron picked up their bags and carried them inside - he had suggested to only bring along the beaded bag but Hermione had objected, pointing out that it would look suspicious if the two of them traveled halfway around the world with no visible baggage.

"Well, you get the view, I get the loo," he said with a chuckle and placed Hermione's bag near the bed by the window. Hermione lightly shook her head at his lame rhyme and turned to close the door behind them.

Having dropped his own bag near the bed that was further away, Ron kicked off his shoes and threw himself face-down onto the mattress. He extended his limbs, stretching them as far as possible which caused his joints to pop lightly. He let out a little moan in obvious appreciation of the freedom he now had after all those hours of being stuck in the plane.

Watching him with a strong feeling of affection, Hermione walked over to him, stepped out of her shoes and sat on the edge of his bed. In an almost motherly fashion, she reached over and gently ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it up even more than it already had been. Ron let out a contented sigh and Hermione moved her hand further down to caress his neck. Ron sighed again, his breath quickening, apparently greatly enjoying her touch. She let her hand slide down to his shoulders which, to her concern, felt as tense as his neck.

"Ron," she said, suddenly feeling bold. "Take off your shirt!"

Ron turned his head towards her, looking as if he thought he had not heard correctly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Take it off," Hermione said, more decidedly. "And lie on your stomach again."

Ron eyed her warily but obeyed. He slowly sat up and removed his shirt.

Lightly blushing, Hermione bit her lip as she watched and let her eyes wander over his body. Having always been of a rather lanky build, Ron was not exactly buff and the past months on the run with a constant lack of food had clearly taken their toll on him like they also had on Harry and Hermione herself. Nevertheless, she found that he was still filled out nicely and looking indecently handsome.

He laid back down and she smiled as her eyes roamed his bare back that was now presented to her with his broad and strong-looking shoulders and slim waist. She shortly considered straddling him but realized that this would bring along an intimacy that she had not planned for right now, especially seeing how uncomfortable Ron already seemed to feel as it was. So the only scooted closer to him as, feeling slightly nervous, she placed her hands on his shoulders and started to massage him.

His milky white skin was warm and soft and felt good under her hands as she kneaded his tense shoulders with growing confidence and then moved further below, rubbing his shoulder blades in slow circles. With satisfaction, she noted that the fine hairs on his neck were standing up on end.

"Is that okay?" Hermione asked.

"That feels great, Hermione," Ron moaned. "Please don't stop."

Hermione continued to massage him and she smiled as he relaxed more and more under her hands. Overcome by another surge of affection, she bent down and blew a gentle kiss upon the nape of his neck. She felt him shiver immediately and encouraged by that, she worked her way up, sending a trail of soft kisses up the side of his neck. He groaned with pleasure and she smiled to herself, proud of the effect she had on him.

She kissed the spot where his neck connected with his jaw, then behind his ear and then she dug her nose into the hair on the back of his head, noting with joy that even despite all those hours in the plane, it still bore its typical scent that she found to infatuating. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she let her nose plow through his hair, rubbing his scalp, while her hand glided along his shoulder, down his arm...

And then she stopped in terror.

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. It was not supposed to be there, and yet it was...

"Ron?" she asked, her voice unnaturally high.

"Mmm?"

"Ron, sit up, please," Hermione said. Her voice was now on the verge of hysteria and her heart was racing. She sat up and, clinging to his shoulder, pulled him along with her.

"What is it?" Ron asked, blinking with confusion as he turned around to face her.

"Is this..." Hermione said, touching his arm. "Is this... from where I s-splinched you last year?"

So, this is it. The original story gets, in my opinion, kind of downhill from here, which is why I cut it at this point.

For clarification: The thing Hermione discoverd on Ron's arm is a scar that indeed stemmed from the Splinching and the original story continues with Ron and Hermione discussing their various scars. But I was not content with it; it has an awkward dialog, an overall weird composition and it just doesn't really flow with me. I was considering completely rewriting it but eventually, I gave up on it and abandoned it. So, yeah...

It served as inspiration for the first paragraphs of "Something to Remind You", though.