A Familiar Pain

Hermione was pushing up his jumper and Ron pulled it off the rest of the way, taking his T-shirt with it.

He kissed her neck, enjoying the taste of her skin. "Bedroom?"

"What's wrong with right here?" She pulled him by the waistband of his trousers to the wall next to the bookcase.

Ron's eyes widened. "Not a thing."

She pulled her own jumper over her head, leaving behind a thin camisole. He didn't manage to get his pants all the way off before she was stroking him. He'd never had sex like that with her before. Actually, come to think of it, he'd never had sex like that with anyone. Hermione, however, seemed to know what she was doing. She slipped out of her jeans and underwear. Sliding her arms around his neck, she gave a little hop. He caught her as she wrapped her legs around his hips. It took him a moment to adjust and slip inside her. She didn't feel as ready for him as he would have liked, but she didn't complain; instead she clenched herself around him, and grazed his shoulder with her teeth. Ron was assaulted with a hundred sensations at once, and he seemed aware of all of them in flashes. He still had on his boots, he was buried inside Hermione, his shoulder hurt, the weight of her in his arms, her breasts under the silk camisole against his chest. He needed a moment and rested his head against the wall.

She grunted. "Come on, Ron."

He shifted her weight, pressing her tighter against the wall to brace her, so he could move his hips. He felt like he was pounding into her too hard, but there was no finesse in that position. There was something primal in it, something a little scary that made it sexy in a dirty way to be taking her against the wall. That's what it felt like—like taking her. Taking her from Krum. He lost it on the idea of taking her back from Krum. As he spilled inside her, he remembered something else. He set her down somewhat awkwardly. "Wand, wand."

Hermione let out a soft snort. "Still can't remember to cast the bloody charm?"

Ron found his wand, cast the contraception charm, and glared at her. "Only with you. I never forget with anyone else, just you."

Her smile faded. "Lucky me. Let's have another drink, shall we?" She picked up her own wand and cast a cleansing charm as she walked into his kitchen wearing nothing but the camisole. It didn't seem to occur to her that his drink from earlier had been water.

He watched her with interest, pulling up his trousers as he followed her. She'd filled out a bit in the breasts and hips since they'd been together, but she was still thin. Probably still forgets to eat when she's working, he thought.

She poured half a glass of whiskey for herself, and looked over her shoulder at him. "Want one?"

Ron shook his head. He stepped behind her and let his hands do their own inspection. He cupped her breasts. "I like these. A bit bigger now than they used to be."

Hermione let her head fall back against him. "Could be."

He stroke her nipples with his thumbs while he rained kisses on her neck and shoulders, taking a moment to suck the spot just behind her ear. That made her squirm.

"Shouldn't we be getting back?"

He ran a hand down past her stomach to cup her sex, he was somewhat surprised to find it felt as though it had been shaved and was just now beginning to grow back. "You know the rules, no one goes home without an orgasm."

She laughed as she moved his hand, but again it was somewhat bitter, and stepped away from him to turn around. "I don't think it's necessary to follow that one tonight."

"Of course, it's necessary. What's got into you?" He didn't understand. She'd been all hot and bothered a minute ago, but now she seemed cool and distant.

Hermione folded her arms across her chest. "You mean aside from you just now? Not a lot."

"You're standing here half-naked in my kitchen telling me you don't want to get off? That's not right."

She shrugged. "If I can't stand around half-naked in front of you, then I can't do it with anyone. You've seen it all before. It's old hat to you."

"And yet." Ron stepped closer. "I never get tired of it. So, put down that drink, go get in my bed, and take your shagging like a good girl."

She looked at him wearily for a moment, but then set her glass on the counter and wandered casually out of the kitchen.

He kicked off his boots and trousers. "You better run."

xXx

She laughed as she climbed on to his bed on all fours and looked over her shoulder at him. "Come on, big boy."

"Cheeky." He was surprised that she'd want him behind her after the wall. He'd assumed they'd shift to something a little more intimate, but she didn't seem to want that. Not wanting to disappoint her, he grabbed her hips and slipped inside.

The rest of the night spun out in feats of sexual Olympics. Positions were many and varied. Hermione was an energetic partner, but he couldn't make her come. He didn't understand. He'd never had that problem with her before, and he was wasn't going to last much longer. Finally, he couldn't hold out any more, and spilled inside her a second time, before collapsing on to his back next to her. "Sorry."

"Don't be," she said, without looking at him. "I'm good."

"Yes, you are, but I can't have you thinking I've forgotten how to please a woman."

She let out of soft snort. "I'm quite pleased. I'm just tired. It's been a stressful few weeks. I'm wound up. That's not your fault."

He felt like it was his fault. He ran his fingers down her back. "Still, I'd really like to unwind you."

She chuckled softly. "Seriously, that's not necessary."

"I think it is, but first, are you hungry?"

She smiled at him. "Starving. I haven't eaten anything since breakfast."

"Come with me." He rolled out of bed, grabbed his wand, and cast a cleansing charm before pulling on a pair of boxer shorts and heading to the kitchen. He could manage to feed her if nothing else.

Ron rummaged through the cabinets trying to find something he could make. When Hermione walked into the kitchen, he smiled to see her in one of his T-shirts. He'd always liked it when she did that. "Hmm, I don't seem to have much in the way of food. How about cheese toasties?"

"That sounds perfect." She took the glass she'd left on the counter earlier and sat at the small bistro table. Drawing her legs up under his T-shirt, like she was cold, she rested her feet on the edge of the chair and drank the rest of the whiskey.

Ron didn't comment on how much she'd had to drink, but it surprised him. He pulled out a cast iron skillet and used his wand to put a flame under it on the cook top. He poured them each a large glass of pumpkin juice and set them on the table then started slicing bread and cheese.

Hermione sipped her juice. "I really like your flat."

"Thanks. Me too. I looked at loads of places, most of them quite a bit bigger, but dunno, I walked into this place, and it just felt like home."

"You have a balcony off the living room?"

"Yeah. It overlooks Muggle London instead of the alley, but that's all right. I rather like Muggle London."

She smiled at him. "I love a balcony."

"I…um…yeah, me too." He almost said he knew, but he wasn't interested in her knowing he could see Viktor's balcony from his bedroom. That wouldn't likely sit well with her. He slathered butter on two slices of bread, set them in the hot skillet, and began piling cheese on top. He added the top pieces of bread and waited. Without turning to look at her, he said, "So, I guess the breakup has been pretty stressful."

"Not really. Actually, that was probably long overdue. Work is what's so stressful right now."

Ron flipped the toasties in the pan and turned around. She never mentioned her work, but this was the second time that night. "Really?"

"As it turns out, changing the way people learn to Apparate is stressful on an international scale."

"Ah, I guess all the governing bodies and licensing groups are involved." That sounded like a lot of mind-numbing meetings to him.

"Yes, and they all want demonstrations and assurances, and they have opinions, and there has to be debate."

Yep, mind-numbing meetings. Ron smiled. "Sounds tedious." He turned back around and took the sandwiches out of the skillet, cut them in half, and plated them. He added a couple of dill pickles before handing Hermione hers.

"Thanks. These look great."

Ron pulled his sandwich apart and gooey cheese strung between the two halves. "I love a cheese toastie."

She smiled at him. "I remember. For a while, after the war, that's all you wanted to eat. Your mum must have made hundreds of them."

"Yeah," he said quietly. She'd brought up the war, which meant she was finally going to talk about the end of their relationship. He'd been expecting it all night, but now that the conversation had arrived, he didn't feel ready. He braced himself for what she would say.

Hermione looked away from him and took another bite of her sandwich. "Is that another half-blood radio?"

He looked at the small radio on the windowsill next to table. It was one of the first one's he'd converted, but he didn't know what that had to do with their relationship. "Yeah."

"How does it work?"

"Easy, tap the dial with your wand once for magical radio or twice for Muggle radio." He didn't understand her sudden interest.

Hermione called her wand to her from the bedroom and tapped the dial twice. She turned it to tune in a Muggle radio station. She smiled as music filled the room. "This is wonderful. It's so clever. Do you sell these in your shop?"

"Yeah, they're pretty popular." He was completely confused by the turn of the conversation. Maybe she'd changed her mind and didn't want to talk about their previous relationship. He couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"I can see why. I'll have to buy one."

"You're welcome to come in any time. But your money is no good in my shop."

She looked up at him, clearly confused. "Why can't I—"

"I have a family discount, but it's not as good as the Golden Trio discount, which is a hundred percent off."

"But—"

"You'd know that if you'd ever been in." He was embarrassed by how hurt he was that she'd never been into his shop. "All my employees know that you and Harry don't pay."

"Oh." She looked away again. She seemed upset. "That's very kind."

"It's the least I could do." He decided maybe she needed him to start the conversation, but he didn't want to go right to the end of their relationship. He wasn't ready for that. Instead, he would talk about the bond. "After all, you made my work a lot easier."

She turned off the radio and set it back on the windowsill. "How's that?"

"When you opened up the bond, after the initial shock, which almost knocked me off my chair, I found it a lot easier to focus. No wonder you were so good at school. Part of the power of your magic is sheer concentration."

She seemed surprised. "Well, I'm happy it helped."

"Would've been nice to get a little warning before you did it though. It was like being hit with a tidal wave."

"Sorry."

"That's okay. Once it settled down and flowed along with my magic, it was fine. Can't help wondering though, why you finally decided to embrace it."

Hermione picked at her food. She shrugged. "I was trying to weave my magic with someone else's to cast a complex spell, and it wasn't working."

"Ah, because my magic is part of your magic, by not letting them flow together—"

"I was wrecking the tapestry."

"But you never cut it off again." There. He'd said it.

She looked at him for a long moment. "Turns out, you're not the only one who benefits from leaving the bond open. Your magic is…"

Ron couldn't believe she actually got something out of his magic. He leaned forward. "What?"

"Freer than mine. There's a certain level of whimsy that makes it easier for me to think outside the box, come at problems from different directions. It's been very useful."

Ron couldn't help grinning. "Really? Well, that's great. I always figured…well…good. I'm glad you get something out of it too. And uh…" He paused and tapped his finger on the table a couple of times. "I should have said before, but thank you. For using the bond at the hospital. I know Mum kind of pressured you into that."

"She didn't pressure me. She just asked me."

Knowing his mother, he wasn't sure he believed that. "Well, even so, I appreciate that you did it. I'm sure it was awkward."

"It wasn't awkward. It was…of course, I did it. Without you, I would've bled to death in that corridor…so naturally…" She stood to put her plate on the counter.

He watched her for a moment. They'd saved each other so many times. He loved her. He loved her so much, he thought might explode. He'd wanted her back in his life for so long and there she stood. He didn't care what happened before. He didn't care about the bond. He just wanted her back. He felt whole with her. When she turned around, he cupped her face and kissed her. She kissed him back and his heart soared. "Take it down."

She leaned back to look at him. "What?"

"Your hair, release the charms, please."

She sighed and released the charms that had held her hair straightened and in a tight bun all evening. Her curls tumbled down, spilling over her shoulders and down her back.

He sank his fingers into her hair. "Yes." He pressed his forehead against hers and then swept her off her feet and carried her back to bed.

xXx

Ron wanted to touch every part of her, taste every part of her, he couldn't get enough of her.

"Wait, wait," she gasped.

"What?" He looked at her. "Why?"

"I…" She shook her head.

"Are you all right?" She seemed disoriented.

"I'm fine," she said, getting out of bed. "I just," she put her hand against the wall and tried to slow her breathing. She glanced out the window and froze. Her mouth dropped open, and she glared at him.

He knew exactly what she'd seen. His face went hot and his heart sank. She looked murderous. All the disorientation of a moment ago seemed gone, in it's place white, hot rage.

"You've been spying on me?"

"No!" Ron sat up and pulled the sheet over him. "No. It's not what you think?"

"Did you rent this place to keep an eye on me?"

"No, absolutely not. I had no idea you lived that close until I'd already moved in. I'd been living here for almost a month before I saw you out there."

She was so angry she couldn't speak.

"Okay." He held up his palms. "I admit, I liked having you so close. Honestly, I think that's probably why this place felt like home the moment I walked in. I didn't see you then," he quickly added. "But I'm guessing you must have been home. Look at where you're standing though."

She glanced around. She was in the narrow space between the bed and the wall. There was a tall chest of drawers next to her.

"Exactly where you're standing is the only place in this flat with that view. It's not like I have a chair there. I don't spy on you. But if I'm getting a pair of socks or a shirt or something and I happen to see you on the balcony…well, yeah…I stop for a moment and watch you." He slid over to the side of the bed where she was standing. "It's always good to see you. I won't pretend otherwise, but that's it." He held his hand out to her. "Come back to bed."

She looked at him and he could see her deliberating, trying to decide if she believed him. To his great relief, she took his hand and climbed into bed next to him. He kissed her. It was a warm kiss, sweet, and gentle. When they parted, he rolled over on to his back. "Please." He reached for her. "For old time's sake." He'd avoided that particular position all evening, even though it was his favorite, it was also the position they were most often in before, and he wasn't sure he should go there.

Without a word, she straddled him, closing her eyes as she sank down over him. With her hand on his chest she began to shift her hips in a steady rhythm. He slid his hands up her thighs, up her body, and over her breasts, careful not to graze the scar. He liked to watch her make love to him. He liked his hands free to roam her body. He liked it when she leaned forward, and her hair tumbled around him like a curtain. She rode him aggressively, but again, she seemed just on the edge. Her eyes were shut, and she bit her bottom lip so hard, he thought it might bleed."Hermione? Look at me. I've got you, let go."

She looked down at him, and for the first time that night, he felt like they really connected. She shuddered and fell forward on top of him. He let himself go as well. She clung tightly to him, still twitching, and didn't get up. He pulled the blankets up over them and stayed where he was, still tucked inside her.

xXx

When Hermione woke some time later, she found herself stuck to Ron. The irony wasn't lost on her. She eased off him as carefully as she could, trying not to wake him, but when the connection between them was broken he stirred. "Go back to sleep," she whispered. "I'm just going to use the loo. I'll be back."

She used the toilet and started the shower running. The minute she stepped under the water the tears came. She was so disgusted with her behavior tonight, she couldn't stand it. She shouldn't have come on to Ron that way. Everything was going to be so much more confusing moving forward. She pressed her forehead against the tile and longed for hangover potion. At least she had some in her bag in Ron's living room. She couldn't go to the Weasley's for Christmas, she couldn't. There was a soft tap at the door.

"Hermione?" He cracked open the door. "Hermione?"

She cleared her throat. "Yes, Ron?"

"It's five-thirty, I reckon we ought to be getting back, before the others start to stir."

Hermione turned off the water and pulled a towel into the shower with her, thankful that he didn't have a clear shower curtain. She wrapped the towel around her, folded it above her breasts, so it would stay, took a calming breath, and stepped out of the tub.

"About that," she said without looking at him. "I probably shouldn't go. I should just head back home."

"Are you mad? I can't go back without you, they'll go mental."

She shook her head, "It's family time. There's no need for me to intrude on that."

He stepped forward and rested his hands on her shoulders. "You are family."

"Ron—"

"You're coming. Put some clothes on, or I'll take you like that."

Unable to argue with her head pounding like it was, she cast several drying charms on her hair and then was embarrassed to find she needed to wander through his flat to get all her clothes. Ron seemed impatient to go, so she didn't bother with the elaborate spells to put up her hair and left it curly and down. She cast cleaning charms on her clothes, but then considered how it would look if she showed up in the exact same outfit she'd had on last night. She mentally kicked herself for not packing a bag, but she hadn't really intended to stay at the Burrow last night, only to check in, see Harry and Ginny, feel out the situation with Ron, and then go home. If it had seemed like a good idea, she'd intended to go back the next morning for Christmas day. "I don't suppose you have a jumper I could borrow."

"Not one that would fit, well except…"

"What?"

"I have one Michelle left here ages ago."

Hermione considered which was worse, showing up in the same thing she wore last night or wearing one of Ron's other lover's jumpers? What the hell, she thought. "Sure."

He disappeared into his room, giving her time to swallow down some of the hangover potion in her bag. He came back out with a navy-blue turtleneck jumper that actually fit her.

"Come on," he said, taking her hand. "Let's go home."