A/n: This is quite possibly going to be the last light chapter in this story; the plot will shift to darker and more intense themes.
A big thanks to my readers both new and those who have stuck on with me for months now. I deeply cherish the support I get from you guys.
Still posting from my phone, apologies in advance for typos and errors.
All Characters belong to JKR.
Chapter 38: Marked by the Lion
"Bloody Hell! What is he doing here!" he muttered in an undertone to himself as the famous Bulgarian Seeker strutted towards them.
His eyes automatically glanced sideways towards her and did not fail to notice first the shock that played in her eyes, and then the blush that crept up her neck and reached her cheeks. Even her quick glance at his direction and uncomfortable stiffening did not go amiss.
"What are you doing here?" he asked rudely to the obvious surprise of his brothers and best mate who stood along with him outside the wedding marquee.
"I vos invited by the bride herself." replied the man in his strong accent, clearly affronted at the less than polite welcome.
Krum looked away from him and glanced at the others, his eyes lingering a bit too long over Hermione. There was a moment when Ron was sure each one of them was holding their breaths, but then, the moment passed and Krum was escorted away by George. He turned towards Hermione who let out a ragged breath and smiled meekly at them.
...
It was a happy occasion. Quite possibly the last one for a very long time to come. But no matter how hard he tried, Ron was unable to shake off the sense of unease that clung onto him. It was almost time for them to leave, time to disappear as they began their formidable assignment. How long till the struggling and infiltrated Ministry held on against His growing power? How long till they became frantically searched outlaws? How long till He realised that someone was targeting the links to His immortality? How long till either of them was caught?
He looked around at the cheerful faces of his family. What if, despite all their precautions, the Death Eaters found out about his role in the mission? What if they held someone from his family hostage and asked him to give up Harry, or Hermione for that matter? And even if the three of them managed to allude capture and stay alive till the end of it, how long till he would see his family again?
In front of him, Bill kissed his new wife and Ron send a small smile towards both his friends. Harry looked away to clap with the crowd but the blonde sitting next to him didn't. She didn't look anything like his Hermione today. Her straight hair hung down her back, and creamy white skin contrasted sharply with the deep azure blue full length gown she wore. Even those eyes weren't brown but blue-green today. The idea was to blend her in with the Delacours, but how on earth she was to blend in while looking so insanely attractive was beyond Ron, although on a personal note, he preferred her with those maddening curls, loved those natural brown pools.
He had noticed many a men glance at her, and he did hate what he saw in their eyes. Some deep-rooted and rarely acknowledged part in him wanted to drag her away from the crowd. He was against the experiment right from the beginning. Why couldn't she take the blasted Polyjuice potion like Harry had? She would have just resembled some non-descriptive girl from the village. It would have been so simple, but of course, why would she do that? She had to just go ahead and taking help from Tonks, alter herself to look like a distant cousin of the French bride. He understood that dressing up as a Weasley girl would not have worked considering Ginny was the only female in the family for generations. But couldn't they just drop Muriel from the guest list and disguise her up as a redhead Prewett? That would have at least partly concealed her in the sea of redheads. If he remembered correctly,there was a middle aged ginger lady in the muggle village.
But of course, she had to ditch his idea. Hadn't she argued that the invited guests would hardly recognise Hermione Granger, and in the unlikely event that someone did, no one would expect the dead Slytherin amidst the Weasleys anyway? Unbidden, another thought occurred to him, what if she knew that Krum had been invited, and she had purposely refrained from disguising herself totally?
The angry monster growled inside him as words from months ago came back to him.
Was he your first?
He was her first. That bloody, fucking Krum had been the first to touch her, the first to have snogged her for sure if not more.
What if there had been more?
He remembered the night after Dumbledore's death. What if Krum had been the first to see that glorious skin under her robes? The first to make her moan like she had with his mouth on her nipples, the first to have gone further, the first to have his name rolling off her lips in pleasure, the first to have touched her, the one to have claimed her...
He practically saw red at the thought, and when Harry called him to move as the tables began shifting away to create a dance floor, he huffed in reply. Both his friends looked at him in surprise and his eyes softened as he met her confused eyes. That was all past, it had to be. She wouldn't have allowed him to go further than a snog for sure. Merlin, she was barely fourteen at the time!
"Come on Ron, lets take a table, unless of course, you prefer to dance?" snickered Harry and before he could reply, he was beckoned from the other end by an irate Muriel. Muttering furiously under his breath, he barked back a reply that he was on the way before turning back ruefully at his best mate.
"You guys grab a table, I'll see what's stopping her from going to her grave."
It took him a good ten minutes before he managed to extricate himself from the death grip of his Mum's dear aunt, and by the time he reached the table where the slightly plum, red-haired version of Harry sat, there was a big group of people on the dance floor.
"Where is she?" he asked softly as he pulled a chair for himself and grabbed a mug of butter beer from the floating trays.
Harry said nothing but gestured slightly towards his left on the dance floor. Confused, he followed his friend's line of sight, and what he saw made him thump down his mug on the table, drops of the drink splattering on the pristine tablecloth.
"He joined us as soon as we got here. I reckon she went with him only to enforce her false identity."
Ron didn't really care for Harry's thoughts or Hermione's reasons for that matter. All he knew was that she was now in that wanker's arms, swaying to the soft music. Blood rushed to his temples as he continued to watch the couple. He briefly heard Harry mention something about seeing someone and barely heard as the other boy left the table. Subconsciously he began breathing slowly throw his nose, jaws clenched painfully as his eyes narrowed in concentration and fury.. Didn't she realise how low that bastard's hand was on her back? How close it was to her bum? Didn't she feel him spread his palm and pull her closer as the music changed to a softer, more romantic number?
He grasped a goblet of fire whiskey and swallowed the whole thing in one go. The fiery liquid ran down his throat adding fuel to the flames in his chest.
He could not see her face but judging by the sickly smile on the Bulgarian, she must be enjoying the reunion. Had she disclosed her identity to him? Was she testing waters to see if her former lover would take her back? Was he trying to charm his way into her knickers?
He dropped the third empty glass and got up just as the pair moved out of the tent. In a while the sun would begin to disappear behind the trees, and Ron wondered if they were looking for a place to snog. Pushing his way through the crowd, he went after them. They were standing apart, talking in hushed tones perhaps. Without bothering to hide the rage coursing through his veins, he stormed past without glancing at either of them.
...
She was uncomfortable. There was no other word for it. As the music changed the second time, lowering into a soft number, she felt him pulling her closer and look deeply into her flustered eyes.
This was stupid. She should have truly listened to Ron and taken Polyjuice, but of course she hadn't, so confident that no one could possibly recognize her in this get-up. But she hadn't known Krum was coming, had she?
If truth be told, she was surprised to find no fluttering in her heart at the sight if her ex-boyfriend, only concern of getting caught. And so, she had taken up his request for a dance, to prove him of her mis-identity.
"Sophie Delacour?" he asked, looking intently at her blue-green eyes.
"Yez." she replied, mimicking Fleur's accent.
"You greatly resemble someone I knew." he prodded on, doubt still lingering in his eyes and words.
"Iz zat your way of charming ze ladies, Mr Seeker?" she asked with a sideways grin although her heart was literally thumping madly in her chest.
"No." he replied softly as a moment of grief came over his features.
"She vos the one I truly loved, the one I intended to marry." he declared, and she felt a pang of remorse for him. Krum had been good to her, but even during their short courtship, he was the more involved one. Looking back, it seemed she was more fascinated then with idea of romance than the person himself.
"Vot happened?" she asked softly, just to keep the show going, yearning to get away.
"Her parents vere against our union," he scoffed.
"I'm sorry," she replied genuinely for his sake. "So, you are not seeing her anymore?"
" She passed away last year, her entire family died." he replied, watching her closely.
Hermione feigned a shock.
"You remind me greatly of her." he pressed on with a smile. She could feel his palms spread low over the small of her back, and the tiny tug that pulled her uncomfortably close to him.
"Had her family not been who they vere, and had she been alive, I vould have guessed you to be her. But she vouldn't be here with the Weasleys." He said in contemplation, almost to himself.
"Vot's wrong with ze Weasleys?" she huffed back, annoyed. "Zey are lovly people!"
"Yes, of course." he smiled, not taking his eyes off her, his gaze lingering way too long on her lips.
They danced in silence for a while as Hermione's brain went through possible ways of getting away from him before things went further.
"You are very beautiful, Sophie." he murmured in a slow whisper against her ears and she send him a forced smile.
"Vould you mind going away from the crowd to get some fresh air?" he asked seductively, and grimacing internally, she agreed only to get away from the view of others so she could lose him without creating a scene.
His advances were making her nervous and ill at ease. They moved out of the tent with him guiding her with his hand still on her waist. Even before she could say anything, an extremely outraged Ron stormed past them without a single glance, striding off towards Arthur's tool shed.
...
He had thrown off the robe and it now hung over an old, broken chair. He loosened the bow-tie to join the previously discarded item and rolled up the sleeves of his button-down shirt.
The music was floating in through the small gap of the door and it did nothing but increase the fury that pulsed in his veins.
Ron could not really decipher the reason for this rage but it ran through him like poison. Seeing her with Krum apparently had been the last straw; the frustration, the anxiety about their impending departure, the worry about the uncertain future and everything else that made up his present life had already brought him to his threshold of tolerance. Alright, there was a fair bit of unfulfilled sexual attraction to add to his troubles too.
He paced up and down the cluttered room, breathing roughly, trying to lose steam. But it wasn't working very well.
The door creaked open slightly and he turned sharply.
"Ron?"
He looked hard at that face he could hardly recognise, and turned away pointedly. Pressing his palms almost painfully on his father's work table he responded only after he had taken a few good, deep breaths.
"What do you want?" he spat without turning around. The music was now barely audible, as if, the door had been properly shut behind him.
"What are you doing here all by yourself?" Her voice sounded hurt but steady.
"That is none of your concern. You need not have left that party, which you were obviously enjoying, just to look for me." he retorted back. The now feeble, logical part of his brain kept reminding that she had left Krum and come looking for him after all.
There was a pause, and then determined footsteps made by the clicking of the high heels she wore underneath that floor-length gown came closer.
"What are you insinuating, Ronald?" she fumed, coming to stand in front of him, her arms crossed at her chest and eyes narrowed in annoyance.
He looked hard at her breast that were made more pronounced by her stance before locking his eyes with her, unashamed. She noticed his gaze and those fair cheeks turned a pleasant pink.
"Stop pretending, Hermione. Wasn't darling Vicky the reason why you did not take the Polyjuice? Just to see if he recognized you? Was the whole thing for him? The blonde hair, the dress?"
The tiny part of his brain declared that he was a prat and an arse; an insecure, fucked up moron in fact. He ignored it. Hermione was glaring so hard at him that it was a surprise that she wasn't breathing fire.
She watched him for a few minutes and then shoving him away, turned to leave. Ron reacted on instinct.
The grip on her wrist seemed to have come as a surprise and even as he pulled her to his chest, she tried in vain to free herself. He held her tighter, another arm now wrapped around her waist. He noticed that the heels had added a good few inches to her height and he now needed to bend less to look at her.
"Did you do it on purpose?" he asked in a hard, deliberate growl.
"Do what?" she spat back. "How was I to know he was coming? And if you must know, Ron, I had no interest in going with him. I had to, so that he wouldn't get suspicious!"
"YOU COULD HAVE JUST USED THE FUCKING POLYJUICE POTION!"
"I'M SAVING WHATEVER WE HAVE FOR LATER, YOU DIMWIT! DO YOU EVEN HAVE THE FAINTEST CLUE HOW MUCH HARRY HAD TO USE UP FOR TODAY?"
He could see her logic but accepting defeat wasn't appearing to be a fancy idea at the moment.
"What if he recognized you?" he asked still in a challenging tone.
"He didn't, did he?" she retorted irritably.
"You were close dancing with him." It was not a question and the low tone seemed to make her a little nervous.
"So what if I was?" she replied defiantly, and he saw red.
His mouth came down on her hard and insistent and she gave back just as equally after only a brief moment of hesitation or surprise perhaps. He had been holding on for so long that the ache was almost unbearable and the way she sucked and nipped at his lips proved that she wanted it just as much if not more. Her nails dug painfully on his back, and he left her wrist to bury his fingers in her hair. The texture was different, he preferred the curls.
He broke the kiss and she groaned softly.
"Drop the charms." he growled.
She nodded and extricating herself from his arms, lifted her gown. The dark blue gave way to cream as it was lifted till her thighs and he could see a band that held her wand and the tiny beaded bag.
He barely held himself from pouncing on her and watched as she moved her wand in intricate movements. Blonde gave way to brown and the straight locks curled back into their crazy self. With the last movement, her eyes came back to their normal colour and her nose changed slightly.
Dropping her wand on the table she looked at him and he noticed the blush creeping up her cheeks at the bland display of lust and want in his eyes.
The next few minutes were a blur of kisses and touches that pulled her to crash hard onto his chest. His fingers entwined in her hair and his tongue prodded and sucked, hard and insistent.
He was going out of control. Her petite body was pressed onto him and causing bolts of magic to run down his system.
With the last and feeble amount of logic he held, he pushed her away unwillingly.
"Go." he breathed out in pants and looked at her hurt eyes.
"Go before I do something you'll regret, Hermione." he pleaded.
"No." She said softly but firmly.
"Please..." he begged, his arms aching to touch.
"No!" she replied more forcefully and advanced towards him instead.
"Hermione, I won't be able to stop things from happening if you stay here. Go."
"What things, Ron?" she asked in almost a murmur as if she was curious as well as scared to know what he wished to do to her. He groaned aloud.
"Seeing you, touching you, tasting you." he replied, his voice low. His cock ached at his own words.
She blushed deeper but did not budge.
"O-Okay..." she replied looking down, suddenly too shy to look him in the eye.
"Okay?" he repeated, taken aback.
She simply looked up at his expression and smiled nervously, blushing crimson at the admission.
"Oh Merlin! Fuck, Hermione! Come here..." he groaned, and pulled her back into his arms. He wanted to ask again, wanted to tell her that it was an insane idea and that she ought to run miles away from him. He did nothing of the sort. He couldn't.
Placing both hands at her nape, he kissed her harder than he ever had, hoping it would tell her what she had just agreed for.
"Stop me the moment you think I'm going beyond what you are comfortable with, okay? Stop me if I go too rough..." He murmured huskily, pulling away a little to look into her eyes, his own blue ones dark with the same raw passion he felt for her that one time in the library, back in their fifth year, but way stronger and deeper now than ever before. Tugging back a stray curl behind her ear, he continued looking at her, waiting for her response. She nodded a little in reply, biting her lips and he almost growled at her gesture, his gaze dropped and paused on her lips.
"Let me do that," he said hoarsely, and placing his hand on her face, used his thumb to release her lip and quickly place his own, demanding ones on hers. She whimpered softly as he gently bit down and then guided his tongue fluidly inside her parted lips. It started as a slow passionate dance of bites and kisses but soon turned hot and wild, months of supressed desires taking control at last. As their tongues began a battle for dominance, his hands slowly peeled the gown off her shoulders. She gripped his shoulders harder just to stay standing as the cloth slipped off to reveal the strapless bra she wore underneath.
Hermione let out small moans at the long awaited closeness and held onto Ron, placing soft but hungry kisses on his jawline. Her Ron was back, and this time, the aggression was out of desire and love rather than hate... She bit her lip as his hands moved lower, cupping her breasts and rubbing over them gently with his thumbs.
He lowered the bra- cups to reveal her to him again, and her hands instinctively locked into his hair, body arched, eager for his touch, for his mouth.
Breathing deeply through her slightly parted lips, she forced open her heavily lusted eyes to find him looking at her. A small, almost naughty grin lingered on his lips as he placed his fingers on her already erect nipples. She gasped out aloud, feeling a flush wetting her knickers. She closed her eyes, arching herself more into those skilful fingers, craving for those lips on her skin.
He did not disappoint. His mouth came over her left nipple almost in slow torture. But as that warm tongue started to work over the sensitive bud, kissing, sucking and licking alternatively, she let a cry which sounded too much like his name.
His member ached in the confines of his trousers and the button down shirt needed to be lost soon. But getting rid of his clothing would require him to stop touching Hermione, and Ron wasn't sure he could do that.
She was whimpering softly under the ministration of his mouth and fingers, sweat gleamed on that pearly skin that was partly exposed. But he wasn't satisfied, he wanted to see her, to mark her as his own. And although a small part of his brain kept asking him to get away, leave for the sake of their impending mission if nothing else, a stronger and more in control heart egged him on. His hand went to her gown and before he knew, the long garment was bunched at her waist, clutched tight in his fist.
It was the sight of her simple black knickers that brought him out of the daze that had blinded him so far. This was something else, the invisible line beyond which everything would change. Not that he was uncertain about his feelings or ignorant about their mutual attraction, but that tiny piece of cloth was symbolic of a limit. Ridding her of it, or even the simple act of touching her over it would make them more than just friends, it would put a label on their relationship, for him at least if not for her. Once he saw her, touched her, he would not allow anyone else to do it. She would be marked as his, forever, at least in his heart. He stood still watching her breathing heavy, and when minutes passed without him reacting, she opened her eyes. Ron was not sure what she saw in his eyes, but whatever it was, it made her features soften. Bringing her palm to rest gently on his cheek, she sighed softly before resting her head on his chest, her gown still clutched in his fists.
"I trust you Ron, with everything I have... With my life." she murmured softly.
He pulled her as close to his heart as he could, burying his face in the curls at her nape.
She had done it again, bared her vulnerable soul to him, and this time, Ron knew, he would rather die than hurt her. Ignoring the ache in his manhood and keeping aside his own need to be touched, he decided to tell her what he could not frame in words by his actions. It was a good thing he had five elder brothers, three of whom felt it to be their moral duty to teach him how to pleasure a woman.
..
"Do u want me to stop?" Ron asked in a murmur against her nipples, biting them in between his words. Hermione wondered how he even expected her to reply. She shook her head sideways.
"Tell me 'Mione, should I stop?" he asked again and proceeded to suck her swollen bud. The other breast was in his palm, his calloused fingers rolling the pert nipple within them. She whimpered, unable to frame a coherent sentence.
"Answer me." he asked again in a husky whisper that was almost a growl. His body heat was radiating off him into her, and his palm that was on her inner thigh was practically scorching her skin.
Ron had long discarded his shirt and the way he had kneeled down before making her hold up her dress had almost drawn all coherent thoughts away from her ever active brain.
And when he kissed and licked her navel as his hands pulled away the tiny piece of cloth to bare her open to him, she had moaned his name aloud. He had kissed her legs but without touching her aching sex, murmuring soft, intelligible words that were peppered with his course language, which she realised, she did not mind so much. On the contrary, it aroused her even more simply because it was such a 'Ron' thing.
"No, Ron...plz don't..." she whimpered in response. She was getting close. His voice caused a gush of air to brush her nape, one of his large hand was brushing the underside of her breast while two fingers of the other hand reached between her thighs and slowly spread her folds apart...
Sweet Merlin...
He laughed softly, seductively at her words, and she gripped her gown harder. He lowered himself down on his knees and pried her thighs apart further. A sudden, loud gasp escaped her lips, Ron's skilled and warm tongue had just found her most sensitive parts...
He lapped at her folds in gentle, almost painfully slow strokes causing her to whimper and spread her legs for him, all the while pressing herself more onto him.
Hermione was glad about the two strong hands that had moved to her waist, holding her firmly in place against the wall. There was little chance of her wobbly legs being able to support her weight as Ron continued to have his way with her. He licked the entrance of her vagina, his tongue barely entering her, and this time, she literally cried out in frustration and placing her hand on his messed up hair, pulled his face onto herself. She could almost feel Ron snickering down there but he removed one hand from her waist, and even as she glanced down with heavy lidded eyes, he licked his finger and without breaking his gaze, pushed it straight inside her already soaking folds. She gasped but could not take her eyes off him, the love and devotion that lingered in those eyes was filling more than just her physical core. The intrusion was sudden yet so pleasurable that it send bolts of energy through her body in a way she had never known before. And when that very same finger curled inside her throbbing muscles, she threw her head back and shut her eyes, shuddering violently while whimpering softly, her walls clamping onto his finger.
But it seemed that Ron was not done with her. Not yet.
He pulled the finger out, and even in her orgasm induced high, she whimpered at the loss of contact, but not for long. This time, two fingers pried her open carefully before filling her up a little more, and soon, they began moving in and out of her in steady, careful strokes, while Ron's thumb rubbing over her extremely aroused clitoris continued pushing her further into a mind-blowing abyss. She cried out his name, sobbing slightly and twisting against the wall because the pleasure was almost too much to bear.
His grip on her waist was hard, and the tempo of his thrusts increased along with his grunts. She wanted to touch him but her body was no longer in her control. When he left her waist to fumble with his belt buckle, she seized up a little against her will.
He locked eyes with her and she glanced down at his member, shuddering at his size. Was she ready for this? The main act? She was sure about wanting to have it with Ron but it was the timing that made her apprehensive somehow.
"Relax" he murmured and she closed her eyes, waiting, slightly scared for the impending pain.
It never came. What did come however, were soft lips that pried her open and the tongue that mimicked the motion earlier displayed by his fingers. With fingers of one hand playing their magic on her sensitized clitoris and another on his member, Ron drove them both to the edge and beyond.
She came again crying out his name, and this time, Ron joined her with his deep grunts, and both of them collapsed together on the floor wrapped in each others' arms.
...
The light of Kingsley's Patronus zipped past them just as they were making their way towards the wedding tent. Kingsley's voice carried loud and clear and then mayhem ensured. The protective shield disappeared and amidst the Disapparating guests and Apparating dark soldiers, Ron held her hand firmly in his, while his eyes searched frantically for his best mate. They dodged curses and spell, ducking at times and firing back at others as they pushed their way through the crowd.
Hermione saw him first. "There!" she yelled, pulling them both towards Ron's left as he continued to send curses left and right at the dark cloaked attackers. Someone pushed Harry towards them and the instant Harry's arm linked with Hermione's, he felt a sharp pull in his navel followed by the familiar squeezing sensation of apparition.
...
They materialized just beyond boundary of an enormous forest.
For a moment the three of them stood still, soaking in the new surrounding and dealing with the shock of their close escape.
"Where are we, Hermione?" asked Harry finally, but Ron was getting a sense of foreboding. She couldn't have possibly brought them where he thought she had, but a look at her slightly shivering form confirmed his doubt.
"We are on the grounds of Granger Mansion, mate." he answered on her behalf.
A/n: This chapter took literally days to come out the way I wanted it to. Originally, it was suppose to be longer but I feel it got lengthy enough.
Too much of smut? Looking forward to your responses.
Thanks a ton for your fantastic support so far. Please don't forget to check the nomination list on tumblr Romione Awards 2015. This story has been nominated for Most Intriguing Plot by the fantastic nirdoodle. Thanks again, girl!