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For The First Time: Motherly Advice
Hermione woke on the morning of February 23rd with a start. For a moment she looked around groggily and tried to discern what had woken her, but then she remembered the dream she had been having and fell back on her pillows.
Ron had been the subject. Ron who she hadn't dreamed about so actively since Lavender had him in her clutches. Those dreams had always been blurred and emotional-most of the time Ron would appear silent and far away and Hermione would wake feeling beat. Now, though, the dreams were very different. Often they involved intimate details, like how Ron's ear looked up close, how the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, how the faded scars on his arms glowed a soft pink in the darkness... Sometimes they explored more and more unlikely plots for their sexual encounters in the distorted reality that only dreams can provide.
This particular dream had been set in Egypt, near the pyramid where Ron's Daily Prophet photo had been taken in the summer before Third Year. Strange, she thought as she rubbed sleep out of her eyes, she had never even been there. They had been running away from something or someone, holding hands tightly and not speaking a word. As the dream progressed, however, Hermione had moved away from Egypt and lost Ron's hand-she now seemed to be running from him. At the corner where she lived, she had turned suddenly to find that Ron was behind her...and naked. That, she supposed, was when she awoke with a start.
Well, she thought, there was no use going back to sleep after that. She slid out of bed and padded across the floor to her bathroom where she looked blearily at her reflection in the mirror. Her summer tan had faded away to reveal the pale skin beneath, and with her night shirt hanging off of her shoulder, she almost looked lovely. Almost. On closer inspection, her hair was a bit of a mess, and there were definite circles under her eyes.
Hermione turned to her side and squinted at her reflection. What, she wondered, did Ron see when he looked at her? Unstayed, her eyes traveled to her breasts, small, reasonably normal, nothing spectacular really. Her hips had filled out a bit since that unfortunate lanky time in the Third and Fourth years of school. She was fine, she concluded. Fine, but not show-stoppingly desirable. Normally this didn't bother Hermione one bit-how often did someone really need to be a show stopper? She had gotten by happily looking the way she did for years, so why did it not seem to be enough this morning? Common sense told her to snap out of it, but the looming idea of being naked in front of Ron had her reaching for her old and out of date makeup kit.
. . . . . . . . . .
Fifteen minutes later she came down the stairs and into the kitchen where her parents were finalizing their travel plans at the table.
"Mum", she said "wouldn't this all just be easier if you and dad sidelong Apparated with me to Australia? It would just be a quick-"
"Dear, you know your father is not comfortable with that idea, and there's no sense in traveling separately" countered her mother, looking over her glasses at Hermione standing in the doorway. "Why Hermione" her mother looked at her more closely "What have you done with your hair? Are you wearing makeup?".
Hermione waited until her father had gone outside to fuss with the luggage in the boot before answering. "I've tamed it down a bit mum, I think it looks nicer"
Her mother crossed the room and took both of her hands before peering critically into her only child's eyes. "You know" she began somewhat tentatively "I think you're much prettier without it all." Hermione looked away.
"Is there someone you're trying to impress, dear?"
It was a simple question. Hermione could have answered 'No' or just shrugged the question off, but something deep within her wanted her mother's advice.
"Ron."
Her mother made somewhat of a clucking sound and squeezed Hermione's hands tightly for a moment. "I like that Ron Weasley" she said simply. Mrs. Granger was halfway back across the kitchen when she turned to look at her daughter and said suddenly: "You have a wonderful nose, dear."
"My...my nose?" asked Hermione, one hand dancing up to touch the aforementioned body part questioningly. It was not in any way what she had expected her mother to say. Mum was not done yet, though, it seemed.
"And I've always thought you had the prettiest wrists. Even when you were a little girl all the other babies had chubby wrists and you, you just had those dainty little things. It's why I bought you the slender watch-so your pretty wrists could show."
Hermione looked at her wrists in surprise. They were rather dainty.
"Your posture is magnificent. How you managed to maintain such a straight back after seven years of carting around books is beyond me. And your skin is so clear. You never had horrible acne like I did as a child. You're smart, and loyal, and genuinely wonderful Hermione. I'm sure he sees it all."
With that she headed out to help her husband with the car, leaving Hermione standing surprised next to the drying rack. How her mother always managed to say the right thing was beyond her, and, she supposed, always would be.
. . . . . . . . .
Hermione returned from dropping her parents off at the airport and getting a full round of hugs and kisses an hour and a half later. She dropped her keys on the sideboard by the door and glanced at her reflection in the mirror there. Her mother had been right. Too much makeup. Checking her watch (the slender one, for her dainty wrists) Hermione guessed that she had about twenty minutes before Ron's arrival. She hurried up the stairs to her room and stood still in the doorway for a moment, categorizing what needed to be done in that span of time.
The laundry basket she could jam under her bed, and there was honestly no reason for her collection of dolls from childhood to be lined up on the dresser so they went in the closet. Her notebook of sex study notes still lay on her night table and she thumbed through it one last time while deciding where to hide it. The particularly horrifying passage came up.
...She groaned as his head skated down to her erect nipple, tounge slipping out to tease the flesh there...his throbbing manpart pressed against her thigh...
"Euck" said Hermione aloud. In retrospect the studying seemed a bit silly. God forbid she actually say something like 'throbbing manpart' in real life.
The notebook eventually got shoved deep between the two mattresses, and Hermione pivoted towards her bathroom to take the makeup off. She was standing just in front of her bathroom counter, water running, re-considering her choice of underwear when she heard the telltale pop of someone Apparating into her room. From her vantage point in front of the mirror she actually could watch the blood run out of her face.
Butterflies taking full control of her stomach, hands shaking a bit, and taking deep breaths, Hermione opened her bathroom door.
Ron was sitting on her bed, looking every bit as anxious as she felt.
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Thanks for reading! Please review! The next chapter will be up reasonably soon, and there will be some SMUT, I promise.