Chapter 6

Hermione looked out her window of her dorm. The sky was inky black with a few stars and no clouds. Outside things were transforming. The winds were beginning to pick up, the leaves were turning, and everyone could sense the seasons changing. October was only a couple weeks away, and so far, aside from the quarrel with Malfoy on the first day of school, Hermione's year was going rather well. Her homework wasn't quite as hard as she expected, but she had to remind herself, school was still just starting. She had been spending a lot of time alone with Ron since Harry and Ginny kept themselves busy quite often. Contrary to popular belief, she and Ron were not having sex; at least not yet. Hermione had been very specific the first time Ron spent the night in her room.

"Ronald Weasley, I am not going to have sex with you tonight, or tomorrow night, or any night for a while, OK?" She had made sure he looked at her when she told him and that he understood fully.

She didn't want to lose her virginity to someone she didn't love. Sex to Hermione was not a trivial thing. Yet, she believed she loved Ron. He was ever so sweet and kind to her. Held the door open for her, didn't sit until she sat (which she found a bit odd, but nonetheless charming), and always looked at her with a dreamy sort of look on his face.
She went over to sit on her bed while she waited. After a while she was beginning to believe he wasn't coming. But just then, her door opened quietly and in walked Ron. He smiled sheepishly at her.

"Sorry, Professor McGonagall stopped me in the hall, and I had to make up some story about being lost on my way to the library. Really made me feel stupid, she did."

Hermione laughed. She pulled Ron over to her and kissed him gently on the lips. "Ron, I want this night to be a special one," she said with a pointed look on her face.

He looked at her incredulously. "Are you sure? 'Cause I can wait, if you want. I mean, unless you don't want, but if you do I can."

Hermione giggled again. "Ron, you're so cute. But I've given it a lot of thought, and I think I'm finally ready. That is if you're ready."

"Hell, I've been waiting for this moment the second I saw you at King's Cross."

He pulled her in closer and kissed her heavily on the lips. In no time, his tongue was in her mouth, exploring already charted territory as if he'd never been there before. She ran her hands through his unruly, long hair, around his broad shoulders, and down his muscular back. His hands were gentle, slowly moving down her sides, then up her back and into her soft hair. He started massaging her scalp, which Hermione always found exhilarating. A soft moan came from her, and Ron scooted her backwards to her bed, still kissing her. Once there, Hermione fell onto it with Ron on top of her. He propped himself up with his elbows so his full weight wasn't on her. He pulled away to look into her eyes.

"Are you positive you want to do this? It's your choice."

Hermione smiled at his thoughtfulness. "Yes, Ron, I'm sure. I've thought a lot about this. I want this to happen with you. Tonight. OK?"

He smiled broadly. For an answer, he was kissing her again, then quickly moved on to leaving wet kisses on her neck. Hermione leaned her head back and just relaxed, feeling Ron's lips on her body. He rolled her shirt up to expose her small waist. He began to kiss her stomach, then blow on the wetness. This made Hermione giggle loudly, and caused another sensation that made her wriggle in anticipation.

"Hold on, love. Can't rush these things."

He slowly made his way lower until he reached her pajama pants. He stood up and little by little pulled her pants off her legs, his gaze never leaving hers. There was a hungry look in Ron's eyes. He gave Hermione a quick kiss on the lips, then moved immediately down to her sex. Pulling her panties down to her knees, he went down on her. Hermione thrust her head back even further. She couldn't take this. Ron had to take her now, she couldn't wait any longer. She moaned, at first in frustration at the "torture" she was being put through, then another in pure pleasure. Oh my God, Hermione was thinking. She moved her hands over his head while he was still going down on her. Then Ron seemed to read Hermione's mind. He stopped and leaned over her. She could feel his erection in his jeans against her leg.

He stroked her cheek gently with his hand. "Are you sure?" She nodded affirmatively.

Ron stood up and quickly took off his jeans and boxers, standing in front of Hermione for the first time completely naked. She couldn't help but stare; she had no idea Ron was so...big. Butterflies were in her stomach, but they were good, for anticipation, not for anxiety. Ron steadily made his way on top of her, making sure not to squish her with his body. He kissed her forehead and slowly entered her. It was a brief moment of pain for Hermione, but it was quickly followed by bliss. He moved in and out of her slowly, and at first it was pleasurable, but then it became too slow. She rocked her hips in sync with his. When she wanted him to enter her deeper, she met his hips in mid rock, making a look of ecstasy come across Ron's face. They quickened their pace, and soon were becoming sweaty. Moans were escaping so frequently from both of them it was hard to distinguish Hermione's from Ron's. Before long, they had a fast rhythm that they followed for a while. Ron straightened up so he was sitting up, riding Hermione, and then he came; Hermione orgasmed seconds after. He collapsed onto Hermione, both of them panting heavily, and Hermione wrapped her arms around him. He rolled over, and wrapped his own arms around her so they were lying sideways intertwined in each other.
Ron had his eyes closed as his breathing evened out. Hermione smiled to herself. She brushed a strand of hair out of his face and his eyes flickered open. Seeing her face, Ron smiled as well. He cupped her face in his hand and stroked her cheek.

"I love you," he whispered.

Hermione's heart flip-flopped. She had been wondering if she should say it or not. "I love you, too."

Ron's smile became broader. He pulled her head closer and kissed her. Hermione melted into his arms, and they slept the rest of the night.

Draco's POV

Thunder woke Draco the morning of the first Quidditch match of the season. It was Slytherin against Hufflepuff. Easy win, Draco thought. He was Captain and had made sure his team worked as much as they could. Not only on the Quidditch field, but he had the idea of using the Room of Requirement as a weightlifting room. He spent the last month whipping the newcomers into shape. After screaming in their faces one night when they screwed up the easiest play in the world, he had heard one of them grumble under their breath, "Fucking Drill Sergeant." Draco wasn't sure what that was, but it couldn't have been a good thing, so he made the kid run ten extra laps. He knew the team hated him for being so hard on them, but he knew they would thank him the day they won the Quidditch Cup.
Draco only hoped that Gryffindor wouldn't have a good season. Potter was the one person that Draco could never beat. That was one of the things his father never failed to mention to him. But even during the summer he had been determined to get in shape in order to beat Potter.
He looked at his clock flashing 4:30. Deciding he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep anyway, he got up and headed for the bathroom. Knocking before entering, he stepped inside. He drew his bath and got in to the steaming water. This was exactly what he needed. Relaxing in the tub, he closed his eyes and just sat there.

This past month hadn't been the easiest for Draco. He had made the decision of changing his values last summer, but he hadn't counted on the ridiculing he'd go through. Though his housemates didn't know his true standing on the Dark Lord issue, he was making it known bit by bit. For example, when people would get into discussions concerning Voldemort and whether he was gaining strength or he had strength and was just waiting, they would want his opinion. Telling the truth, he would say that he didn't think Voldemort was even alive, but he didn't care if he was. After that, people wouldn't talk to him. He didn't care what they thought, but he just wished that they would stop whispering as he walked past, or not make eye contact with him, or even leave the area when he entered it.

The only people who were not treating him as if he was a leper were Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle. But Blaise was acting funny around Draco also, though not as obvious. Blaise had been asking whether or not Draco had nailed any girls yet, and Draco would just wave him off, saying he was too busy. Blaise would mutter things like, "Totally different person," or, "Don't know him anymore." It didn't really matter. In the end, he knew Blaise wouldn't want to be his friend anyway. The only question was when. When would Draco reveal to the world his true loyalties? When would he tell everyone that he hated the Dark Lord and Dark Arts and he wanted to be good? When would he tell everyone the one girl who had his heart was the girl he grew up tormenting? He didn't know.
Bringing himself back to reality, he got out and got dressed. He walked to the Great Hall for breakfast. He wasn't really hungry, but he knew he needed his strength for the Quidditch match. During breakfast, he was isolated from the rest of the students, as usual. Pansy was beside him, trying to wish him luck in her own annoying way by rubbing his arm or any other body part she could reach. He heard the doors open and saw Granger and Weasley walk in, holding hands. Draco was almost positive he heard someone sneak into their dorm last night. He almost threw up at the thought of what those two could have been doing.
He got up to leave, signaling for the rest of the Slytherin team to do the same, and they all walked out. In the changing room, Draco was giving his team a speech.

"This team has got to be the easiest team to beat. If you somehow screw this up, I will not hesitate to use all the dark magic my father taught me on you."

This threat in particular was very useful, seeing as everyone knew what type of father Lucius Malfoy was. Draco looked around at the terrified faces and was satisfied. He then grabbed his broom, a Nimbus 2004 (his father never thought he was worthy of a Firebolt), and walked onto the field.
The crowd cheered as the teams made their way towards the center. He noticed that ¾ of the entire crowd was sporting yellow and black flags and garments. Nothing new, he thought to himself. He shook hands with the Captain, James Harding, a scrawny guy who played Keeper. Once Madam Hooch blew her whistle, everyone was off. Draco flew to the sky, feeling like he left his worries on the ground. The wind rushed past his face and ears, though still able to hear the commentary.

"Amber Jones has the Quaffle and looks like she's going for the Slytherin goal, but oh! Crabbe hits her with a Bludger and she drops it. Slytherin Chaser Ryan Barnaby catches the Quaffle and high tails it to the Hufflepuff end. All the Slytherins are riding fairly new brooms, the newest being rode by team captain Draco Malfoy. His is a Nimbus 2004, probably bought by his father if you ask-ouch! Professor, that hurt."

"Mark, could you possibly do an unbiased commentary, please?"

"Yes, of course, my bad. Ok, Barnaby maneuvers around Clark and Noone, shoots and scores! Ten points to Slytherin. Harding passes it to Farley and the game continues."

Draco was above the field, scanning endlessly for the Snitch. The Hufflepuff Seeker, Cass Barkley, was not far from him. She was pretty good, even though her team wasn't. When she saw him looking at her, she flipped him off. A couple years ago, Draco had tried to get her in bed, but she was too smart for him. Apparently, she's hated him ever since. He turned away from her and kept his eyes on the field. His team was nothing but blurs of green flying up and down the pitch.

"Slytherin leads 50 to 0."

At least they were getting ahead. Still no sign of the Snitch. Draco dared another glance at Barkley and saw she was still circling the pitch from above. He looked back at the screaming crowd and the specks that were people. Something glinted in his eye and, turning his head sharply, he saw the tiny walnut sized object. Without even seeing if Barkley saw it he dove straight for it. Wind zipped past his face as he raced for the Snitch, his robes streamed behind him. Suddenly Barkley zoomed in front of him, causing him to slow down slightly. He moved to her side and caught up to her. He was surprised she was keeping up with him; he didn't think she had that good of a broom. The Snitch was drawing closer and the two Seekers were battling to reach it first. Giving up his gentlemen-like behavior, he elbowed Barkley in her side, making her "Oh!" and fall behind. Draco pulled ahead and stretched out his arm, his fingers reaching for the Snitch as every pair of eyes in the crowd was fixed on him. With one last burst of effort his fingers closed around and caught the struggling ball.
Despite the small size of the Slytherin crowd a loud cheer erupted from the ground below. Draco descended and was met with slaps on the back and thumbs up from his teammates. Regardless of the fact that it was an easy win, he still felt pleased with himself and cheered with the rest.