A/N: Okay, this chapter really IS rated M...
Beryllium is a divalent element which occurs naturally only in combination with other elements in minerals. As a free element, it is a steel-gray, strong, lightweight and brittle alkaline earth metal. Beryllium is used primarily as a hardening agent in alloys, notably beryllium copper. Beryllium is corrosive to tissue, and can cause a chronic allergic disease in some people.
4. Beryllium
19 August 1998
Ron thudded to the ground, on his back, just outside The Burrow. Far overhead, his bedroom window flew open, and he could make out, even in the dark, a bushy head poking frantically through.
"Ron! What's happened?!"
When all he could do was cough in response, the head vanished from his view. And, with a succinct crack, she had disapparated. Half a second later, she appeared beside him, looking panicked. She knelt over him as he tried to sit up.
"Ron, your hands!"
"I know," he sputtered, pushing further up onto his elbows and shaking dirt from his hair.
She reached for his wrist to help him, but he pulled back suddenly. She flinched, expression morphing from surprised to slightly hurt, but he quickly cleared his throat to explain.
"Don't want you to get this bloody rash."
"What is it?" she asked, tentatively. "Are you hurt anywhere else? From upstairs, it sounded like you must have broken something, landing like that..."
"No," he tried to reassure her, but his raspy voice wasn't helping. He cleared his throat again. "Apparently I'm allergic to metal, or something."
"What?" She stared at him, blinking.
"Dunno. We were in this dusty vault sorting through objects to find cursed rubbish as a sort of exam when I started feeling like my hands were on fire. Kept working for a while because I thought I'd found a curse and that's why I had a reaction, but Harry checked it and there was nothing."
"How can you be allergic to metal? Wouldn't the horcruxes have caused the same reaction when you touched them?"
"Must be something that wasn't in any of them. The Auror I checked out with reckons it could be nickel, which he says is in a lot of cheaper jewelry. Remind me to spend a fortune on rings..."
She blushed, and he looked away, realising what he'd implied.
"If it's an allergy," she moved on, "I can't catch it from touching you."
She reached hesitantly for his hand again.
"You sure?"
"Yes, definitely."
Her eyes searched his as he bent his knees up and slouched forward.
"I'm alright," he said softly, holding out his hand for her to inspect. "It's just bloody annoying."
She very gently took his hand in both of hers and began delicately running her fingers over the rash that coated nearly all of his skin from fingers to mid-forearms.
"Tell me you went to St Mungo's..."
He smiled at her as she narrowed her eyes back at him.
"Yeah, gave me a ruddy potion for allergy, and now I can't stand up straight..."
"Must have been strong," she considered. "Those can make you dizzy. Does that explain you apparating directly onto your back?"
"Sure does."
"Where's Harry?"
"He told me to come back home, then went to explain what was happening and turn in our paperwork."
She chewed her lip, looking stressed...
"What?"
"Nothing..."
He stared at her for a long moment, as she continued to lightly inspect his hand...
"Tell me," he pushed.
She let go of his hand and stood, extending both hands back down in his direction to help him up. Once he was standing, he swayed slightly, grimacing.
"You've been training for barely a week and already you're..." she trailed off.
"This isn't like that," he tried to assure her, linking arms with her as she prepared to apparate back upstairs with him. "Can't help what I'm allergic to... It's not like we were doing anything particularly dangerous-"
They vanished with a pop and reappeared a second later in the centre of his lantern-lit bedroom. He clutched her arm tightly to balance.
"Lie down," she instructed. "Your mum and dad are at Bill and Fleur's and Ginny's out flying with George. My parents have that conference tonight. Alright if I stay over?"
"Always alright," he grinned as he stumbled to bed and collapsed on his back with another soft groan.
She crossed her arms and stared down at him.
"You sure you aren't hurt anywhere else?"
"It would be a surprise to me, too, if we found out I was."
"So, when I take off your jeans, I'm not going to find scratches or bruises to prove you're a liar?"
His lips curled lopsidedly.
"Let's find out."
She shook her head at him before smiling and climbing onto the bed next to him, kneeling at his thighs as she unbuttoned his jeans. He held his breath as she unzipped and tugged.
"Good job distracting me..." he muttered.
She grinned at his knees as she worked his jeans the rest of the way off, pulling them free from his feet and tossing them to the floor.
"Now," she said, eyes sliding back up his body, "did the healers put anything on your hands or give you something to bring home? A salve or..."
"Oh yeah," he nodded toward his discarded jeans, "in the pocket. I forgot."
She reached over the side of his bed and found a corked bottle of clear-ish paste in his right front pocket, removing the stopper and crawling further up the bed as he propped himself up against the wall.
"They said I could put that on every couple of hours," he added, as she swirled the contents of the bottle.
"Want me to do it for you?"
"Of course," he smiled.
"Better take off your shirt."
He did as instructed and settled back against the wall again. She reached for his hand and tipped a small glob of the paste out onto his palm. Very gently, she smoothed it over his hand and arm, sniffing.
"Looks awful, yeah?"
"I just feel bad for you," she sniffed again. "Is it very uncomfortable?"
"Well, I can tell that stuff is already working. The other one itches like a bastard... Burns, too."
"Give it here," she instructed, finished with the first arm.
She silently rubbed the ointment into the raised and reddened skin of his left hand and forearm, corking the bottle again and setting it on his bedside table.
"Don't touch anything," she said, firmly. "You've got to let that soak in."
"That's no fun, with you staying over..."
She smiled, but, looking a bit distracted, she sighed and tucked her legs underneath her.
"Ron, will you promise me something?"
He held his hands out, awkwardly hovering, before slowly giving up and lowering them gently to rest on top of his stomach.
"I'm sure I will," he said. "What am I promising?"
"Just... I leave in less than two weeks-"
"Twelve days," he interrupted.
She smiled at him again, a bit sadly this time.
"Right. And I just don't- I can't go away thinking you won't take care of yourself. I know you don't try to get hurt, and this is different, you're right. But... just be careful while I'm away, will you?"
"Harry knows you'll kill him if I come home with a single scratch. We'll be fine," he smiled back at her.
She studied him for a moment.
"I'm going to make you a list."
He wrinkled his nose.
"Makes sense. Of what?"
She laughed and gently moved his right arm out so she could lie down next to him, curling against his side, head on his shoulder.
"All the things you need to have handy, just in case."
"Like you had for the three of us last year?"
"Right."
She slid her leg over his, and he closed his eyes.
"Still can't use my hands?" he mumbled.
"No."
She sat up again... ran the tip of her index finger down the centre of his chest. His eyes cracked open, heavy-lidded.
"Not fair."
"Want me to stop?" she whispered, as her hand hovered just above the elastic of his boxers.
His eyebrows shot up.
"Better not."
She smiled, cheeks flushing as she quickly removed her own shirt and pressed her palm flat to his stomach.
He inhaled deeply and exhaled shakily.
She moved his arms further away from his torso before flattening herself to his chest, tilting her chin up and kissing his jaw. She worked her hands underneath him to hold his back as she kissed her way to his ear, his lips parting as he squirmed slightly underneath her.
"Fuck..."
His fingertips grazed her side.
"Hands," she reprimanded, lifting herself off of him and sliding out of bed.
"Hermione-" he started to protest, sitting all the way up before she reached to unfasten her jeans. "Oh."
She grinned at him, cheeks darkening to a blotchy rose.
"It's really strange doing this," she admitted.
"Cheers!"
She laughed, shaking her head.
"No, I mean... taking off my own clothes while you watch..." she reached behind herself for her bra snap.
"Well, you're doing a great job..."
He shivered, and she licked her lips, looking away as she unhooked her bra and let it fall to his floor. He exhaled sharply, and she pressed her lips together. Eyes still averted, she climbed back into bed and scooted close, pressing her naked chest to his side as she reached down for his boxers.
His hand nearly flew to her back, to press her tighter against his body, but he remembered at the last possible second, hand hovering so close to her that he could feel the heat from her skin on his palm.
"Careful," she whispered, tugging off his underwear as her hardened nipples rubbed against his stomach.
"Oh, God..."
She rolled to her back, shimmied out of her knickers, and turned back over, lying on her stomach, next to him, eyes darting until he finally held her gaze.
"Fucking hell, I'm going to miss you," he breathed.
Her fingertips skimmed his chest before smoothing up the centre, resting her chin against his ribs.
"I already miss your hands," she teased, suppressing a grin.
"You sure your back doesn't need some of this salve? Or your thighs, or your-"
But she cut him off with a kiss, flattening herself on top of him again until her legs parted, knees digging into the mattress on either side of him. Her tongue ran across his lower lip, her hands gripped his biceps...
His hands attached themselves to her arse as she pressed her hips down.
She pulled her lips away from his just as he moved up and gripped her waist with both hands, sliding into her.
"Ohh… Ron, you cheated!"
He shuddered and pressed his head back firmly against the wall.
"Complaining?" he managed to breathe out.
She pressed her palms to the wall on either side of his head, to help out...
"We'll... just have to... start over... in a couple... hours..."
Her lips dragged an open-mouthed kiss across his cheek to his lips as he weaved his right hand up the back of her neck, with blatant and utter disregard now for previous rules.
"That's too bad..." he muttered, closing his eyes.
