A/N: Reviews really are food for the soul. I haven't fic'd in what feels like forever but something compelled me to visit .net and read my reviews last night and what d'you know they inspired me to write! And boy was this fun to write! I had to make some minor adjustments to the first chapter to make it work (nothing major, this is just in the summer after OotP now instead of GoF) so you might need to reread that first but it shouldn't matter really.
Anyways, enjoy and please review. The characters aren't mine, blah, blah, blah, just the scenario and these particular words in this particular order belong to me!
When Ron woke the next day it took him a moment to explain the heavy feeling of dread that had settled in his chest. Then he remembered the events of the previous afternoon and the fact that he still hadn't spoken to Hermione since Harry's untimely interruption. She had finally emerged from her room for dinner last night but placed Harry between herself and Ron, thus preventing opportunities for a discreet conversation, and then disappeared upstairs again before Ron had even swallowed his last mouthful.
Ron groaned to himself, rubbing his eyes as he swung his long legs out of bed. A quick glance at Harry's camp bed told him that Harry was up already and probably moping about the garden again. Ron decided that he would shower before attempting to deal with the Hermione issue in the hope his brain might be working a little faster by then.
As he padded down the hall he realised the house was unusually quiet. He pondered this for a moment wondering what he had missed before remembering that the twins were visiting their friend Lee Jordan, Mr Weasley was at work and Mrs Weasley had taken Ginny shopping. He must have slept late again but at least he wouldn't have to contend with multiple, potentially embarrassing interruptions when he spoke to Hermione.
Ron stepped into the shower and switched it on, feeling the water heat up as it cascaded over him. The hot water pounding down on his neck and shoulders felt as though it were washing away all of his tension and anxiety. He spent longer than normal in the shower today, watching as the steam rose around him in tendrils in the air clearing his mind and making him more alert.
Finally he switched the water off and slid back the door searching for a towel. His eyes scanned the wet towels strewn in piles around the room until they fell on the only clean towel left, a small pink hand towel. Ron grumbled about 'bloody brothers, bloody using all the bloody big towels' as he reached for it but reminded himself that he should at least be thankful that the house was almost empty as he stretched it tightly around his waist. He peered around the bathroom door to double check no one was on the landing before dashing back upstairs to his room desperately clutching the towel around him.
Ron was halfway through his sigh of relief as he turned into his room to find Hermione sitting anxiously on the edge of his bed. At the sight of Ron with his tiny towel Hermione's cheeks flushed furiously and her eyes widened before shooting down to stare at the floor. She was biting her lip again.
"Ermm, sorry Ron, I just..." she mumbled frantically, jumping up from the bed whilst at the same time Ron squeaked in a voice much higher than his usual one,
"Hermione, I was..."
If Hermione was blushing it was nothing compared to Ron's ears which felt so hot that he wouldn't have been surprised if steam were rising from them. Hermione looked up at him again, careful to meet his eyes and they both giggled (yes, Ron giggled) at themselves.
"I thought we needed to talk," Hermione offered nervously, her voice too somewhat higher than normal. "...about yesterday. I was waiting for you downstairs but it was getting so late and I thought you might be hiding up here, so I thought I'd come and find you and... well..."
Ron noticed that as she spoke Hermione's eyes repeatedly drifted south and it seemed to be causing her some effort to keep them on his face. He had to admit the Quidditch practises were starting to pay off and apparently Hermione thought so too. Brilliant. He cautiously removed one hand from his towel to ruffle his hair, showering his shoulders and chest in water droplets. As he did so his towel slipped slightly, now only supported by one hand and instead of being wrapped around him it simply hung in front of him, covering his necessities but leaving his behind and most of his thighs uncovered. Hermione emitted something like a small squeak at the sight of this and stared more resolutely at his face. Ron could feel himself blushing again but made no effort to re-secure his towel.
"I wanted to talk to you too," Ron said trying to lower his voice slightly to compensate for the smallness and pinkness of the towel in his hand. Hermione nodded jerkily her eyes not leaving his. "I overslept and decided to shower first," he explained, deliberately gesturing with a sweeping movement to his damp, naked self. Hermione's eyes followed his hand and she let out the little squeak again, this time trying to disguise it by clearing her throat.
Her eyes rested somewhere just above the towel in his hand for a moment and he watched as she moistened her lips and swallowed, then she raised her eyes to his again and stepped towards him. As she moved she brushed her hair back and Ron noticed that her blouse was hanging slightly off her shoulder, revealing pale, slightly freckled skin, the clearly defined shape of her collarbone and the thin white strap of her bra. She was speaking but Ron couldn't hear the words. He suddenly became very aware of how naked he was.
"I'll just get dressed and..." Ron began in an even higher, squeakier voice than before but soon tailed off as Hermione stopped in front of him, much closer than she would have normally. Ron felt slightly dazed, his breathing was too fast. 'No, not now,' he thought to himself gripping his towel more firmly. 'Please, not now. Sandwiches... Quidditch... Filch!' he thought desperately screwing his eyes shut as he did.
He felt Hermione's hand rest softly on his shoulder and cautiously opened his eyes again. She was too close, he couldn't help himself. His free hand was making its way to the side of her face, brushing her cheek and then burying into her hair pulling her face up to his. He saw her tongue dart out to moisten her lips again and felt her unsteady breath on his own. Their lips brushed; it was barely a kiss but it made heat flare in Ron's chest and clouded his head with foggy desire. He hungrily closed the gap between them, pressing his mouth to Hermione's. The kiss was soft but urgent, surpassing all Ron's expectations.
As he began to lose himself in the moment Ron felt Hermione's other hand reach across him and grip the wrist of his hand that was holding the towel. There was no suggestion in the movement but as she moved her hand grazed the small path of hair that climbed up towards his belly button. He gasped at the tickling sensation that felt like a trail of fire and had to pull away from her slightly as he tried to regain control of his breathing.
Hermione's hand slipped from his shoulder and instead came to rest on his chest as she looked up at him, her eyes wide with worry. Her teeth began to tease at her bottom lip again. Ron let out a groan of wanting and pulled her to him, hungrily. He moved his hand from her hair to the small of her back, pressing her closer to him, leaving no space between them. She moaned into his mouth a little as she felt his excitement against her, the sensation driving Ron on.
He released the towel, the closeness of their bodies now holding it in place, and moved his hand round behind Hermione to meet the other as he lifted her up. She released another small moan and wrapped her legs around his waist, allowing him to carry her to his bed. As he lowered her down their lips only parted when it became too awkward to maintain the contact. Instead Hermione reached up and brushed Ron's wet hair from his face and ran her hands over the contours of his chest.
Ron lay himself down next to Hermione, the tiny pink towel slipping to the floor in the transition but neither of them noticed. Propping himself up on one elbow he grinned stupidly down at her, letting his fingers comb through the ends of her hair. Neither of them seemed to know what to say, continuing to smile sheepishly at each other and exchange looks that both hoped would say everything that they couldn't find the words to.
After a minute or two, or it could have been an eternity, Ron leaned slowly down to kiss Hermione softly again. As he started to pull away her hands shot around him, one buried in his hair the other gripping his back holding him to her. The kiss deepened, became more purposeful and Ron's thoughts became clouded and primal. Ron's hand slid from Hermione's hair trailing down her side to her hip. He pulled her to him, grabbing her knee when she raised it and hitching it up around him. She moaned into his mouth again and Ron pressed harder against her. His hand slid back up her thigh and slipped under her blouse, caressing the smooth skin beneath. He could feel her chest rising and falling against his own with her unsteady breathing.
Clothes, there were too many clothes between them. Ron extracted his hand again and moved it to the buttons on her blouse which unfastened willingly at his touch. He pushed the fabric from her shoulders pulling Hermione up to allow her to shake her arms from the sleeves.
Now he danced his fingers along her collarbone, tickling her and making her squirm against him. They danced down the centre of her chest. Suddenly she stopped kissing him, seeming to realise her new state of undress. She looked up at him anxiously; her lips were flushed pink and her eyes seeking approval in his. He grasped the opportunity to look at the girl next to him. His gaze followed his fingers as they trailed down her chest that was rising and falling heavily with her breathing. They brushed the thin white lace that shielded her breast from him. It was oddly delicate for Hermione he thought, not quite able to take in how overwhelmingly beautiful she was. His fingers progressed further down her stomach, circling her belly button before finally reach the button of her jeans. It fell open with ease.
Ron's eyes returned to hers; they were still seeking something. He lowered himself gently to brush her lips with his own and breathe the words 'you're beautiful, Hermione'. Then he followed the path his fingers had made with his lips, brushing Hermione's skin with soft kisses. Occasionally, when he hit a particularly sensitive spot she would arch towards him causing a twisting sensation in his lower torso. Finally he reached her waistband and his eyes darted back to hers. She was still looking at him with that anxious expression but he thought he saw her make the smallest of nods.
He slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her jeans and tugged them down revealing more white lace to match her bra. Ron wondered if she'd considered this turn of events as a possibility when dressing this morning or if she always wore matching underwear. He couldn't wait to find out.
He slid himself back up the bed to her, dragging his hand along her thigh and across the delicate lace between her legs as he did, making her whimper and arch her back again. Then suddenly they were kissing again, Hermione clawing at his back as Ron desperately fumbled to remove her underwear.
Hermione's pants lay strewn on floor several feet away and after some difficulty he unceremoniously sent her bra to join them. He lay her down beneath him pulling away from the kiss. Their warm bodies pressed against each other, both breathing hard, terrified but desperate for one another. Their eyes locked and Ron's eyebrows raised slightly in question, again Hermione gave that tiny nod in response. Ron shifted, pulling himself above her, kneeling slightly between her legs. He lowered himself to kiss her softly once more as he desperately sought the courage to say the words he thought he had always known to be true.
"Hermione, I..." He breathed
"Shhh!" Hermione snapped rigid with terror beneath him. "Someone's coming!"
Sure enough there was the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the stairs. Hermione tugged the blanket on Ron's bed with such force it caused him to slip to the floor. She threw it over herself as Ron dove for his tiny pink towel, clutching it with some difficulty over his nether regions and plonked himself, what he hoped was casually, on the edge of his bed just as Harry appeared in the doorway.
"Harry!" Ron greeted his friend rather too heartily.
"Alright Ron," Harry responded unsurely, taking note of the towel and the flushed look on Ron's face. "Erm... anyway, have you seen Hermione?"
"Me? Hermione? No, no, not at all today..." Ron replied with gusto.
Harry raised an eyebrow, taking in the full scene before him; the naked Ron, the clothes strewn around the floor including what looked like a white lacy bra and pants and finally the Hermione shaped lump under Ron's sheet. He couldn't help but let out a chuckle.
"Riiiight," he said airly. "Well if you see her," he looked pointedly at Ron then the lump in the bed "can you tell her I was looking for her."
Harry turned and left chuckling to himself as went. Ron waited until the footsteps were halfway down the stairs before gently easing the sheet back off of Hermione to reveal her mortified face.
"Did he know I was here?" She whispered.
"Nah, course not," Ron lied, leaning down to kiss her and receiving a face full of bed sheet instead as Hermione flung herself from the bed and frantically started gathering up her clothes.
"Oh my goodness, what were we thinking?" she muttered frantically to herself as Ron watched her bemused. "Ron! Turn around!" she shrieked when she realised he was watching.
"Hermione..." he started but Hermione was already pulling up her jeans and hurriedly fastening her blouse buttons.
"How could we be so stupid," she muttered.
"Stupid...?" Ron repeated unable to hide the hurt in his voice but Hermione was already exiting the room and following Harry down the stairs, leaving Ron alone clutching his tiny, pink towel.
A/N: If you click that button below that says 'review' and write something nice Ron might just appear in you bedroom, dripping wet and clutching a tiny, pink towel...