A/N: Two updates in a day. I'm on fire.
No - seriously. I'm on fire. Please phone for help.
Disclaimer: J.K Rowling still won't let me own Harry Potter. Clearly someone wasn't taught how to share as a child...
According to the clock on Hermione's bedside table it was quarter to one in the morning when she felt herself drift back into consciousness. She blinked a few times, trying to find her bearings and soon realised that she was in her bed at her parents' house. Steadily details of the previous hours came back to her as her eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness of her bedroom. It was her mum's birthday next week so her dad had taken her to see a play on the West End and they were both staying in London for the weekend. With her parents' permission, she had invited Harry and Ron around for dinner, which had inevitably became a take-away. They had both stayed for a few hours until they both had to go home to the Burrow.
Most definitely without her parents' permission, she had arranged with Ron for him to Apparate back to her house when everyone else had gone to bed so that he could stop the night. They had never organised something like this before, but Ron had suggested it after he learnt that she would be on her in own in the house overnight. Hermione wasn't naïve enough to believe that he had no ulterior motive, but she was more than willing to play along with the idea.
Hermione, now almost awake, laced her fingers in between the fingers of the hand that was resting on her stomach. A warm feeling spread through her as she realised that they were spooning for the first time and felt herself smiling giddily. Before tonight, after these kinds of – activities – they had only fallen asleep for short periods of time and had never had to find comfortable sleeping positions. Normally Hermione would awake to find her head resting on Ron's shoulder or chest, but normally she slept on her side. Apparently Ron had snuggled up to her in the night.
It made her feel like some pathetic school girl with a crush, but Hermione couldn't help but want to dance around and possibly start singing over the sheer joy of the boy she had always fancied wanting to cuddle her while she slept. It was utterly ridiculous and she knew when she was more awake she would be ashamed by such thoughts but, right now, she didn't care. After all, this was still the honeymoon period of their relationship; this when everything was meant to feel all shiny and new. This was only the seventh time they had even slept together. Or was it the eighth?
Hermione frowned, trying to remember each incident that she had tried to burn into her memory until the end of time, but already they were starting to blur together into one recollection of happiness. Now she was smiling again; somehow forgetting the number was more special than keeping track. Hermione sighed contently and wondered if this constant state of elation and giddiness was good for her. Even if it wasn't though, Hermione doubted she would want it to stop. It was the little things that she hadn't even expected to happen that were what made finally being with Ron so incredible. It was the weight of his arm across her side. It was one of his legs being between hers and his leg hair tickling the skin that she had never cared more about shaving in her life. It was his breath warming the back of her neck through her hair. It was that feeling of something pressed against her bum-
Oh.
Straight away, Hermione knew what that was and felt herself tense up. She had no idea why though. After all, she had touched it and – things – before. It wasn't like she didn't know it was going to be there when they weren't, well, using it. But still…
As gently as she could, Hermione tried to shuffle forward a little, just enough so her middle wasn't in contact with any part of Ron. Unfortunately the moment she stopped moving, Ron, still unconscious, pulled her back towards him. In any other situation Hermione would have found the action incredibly sweet, but now it had annoyed her.
She closed her eyes and tried to rationalise this strange turn of events. This shouldn't be weird. She loved him. He was her boyfriend and she loved him and this sort of thing was expected. Right? She exhaled deeply and decided not to think about it. This was the first time this had happened to her so of course it was going to feel a little peculiar. They had been friends for years and for most of that having his leg too close to her sent her into a fit of panic and blushing. This was just like that.
Exactly like that. No difference at all when you thought about it.
No. It was no good.
She may be a mature, legal adult, completely besotted with the man behind her, but the fact remained that a boy's willy was touching her and she would much rather that it didn't.
Hermione sighed and chastised herself. It must have been well over a decade since she had last used the word 'willy'. It was a penis. Ron's penis.
And there was no way she could sleep with it pressed against her.
Giving into the voice inside her head that had curled into a ball and started squealing since she had woken up, Hermione scouted the room for her pants. If she could just slip out of bed, put them and return without waking Ron up, there would no longer be an issue and she could go back to acting like a normal, love-struck fool. Slowly, she edged away from him as she pulled her pillow down to replace her next to Ron, hoping that he would mistake it for her. Once the pillow was in place, Hermione carefully rolled out of bed in a move that she was fairly certain didn't look as smooth as she had thought it had been.
She sat up on her haunches and inspected the bed, making sure that there was no way a cold draft or anything else could wake Ron up. Once that was done, her eyes fell on his face and the way his lips were slightly parted and hair fell into his eyes. Every so often his eyelids would flicker and Hermione had to fight the urge to kiss him. She stood up, cursing her ankle bone as it cracked unnecessarily loudly, and tip-toed over to her discarded underwear.
"Mynee? Why y'over there?"
If Hermione had approved of foul language, she could have thought of several four letter words that perfectly summed up that moment.
She was completely naked, in the middle of her room and in full view of Ron.
Yes, he had seen her nude seven or eight times already, but that had always been lying down or, well, while she was straddling him – never just walking around.
This, she thought, feeling flustered, this was pointless nudity. What if Ron thought that this was normal to her or anyone else? Would he want them to start being nude all of the time? Would they watch TV while naked? What about cooking? That could be a safety hazard! He probably hadn't even considered that when he decided he was going to become a naturist. This was so typical-
"Hermione?"
Oh. He was still waiting for a response.
"Yes?" she answered in what she hoped was a dignified and casual way but she knew damn well was just a squeak.
"What're you doing?"
"Nothing."
"I can see that," Ron said slowly, "but why are you doing nothing over there?"
Now the original shock had worn off, Hermione tried as slyly as she could to cover her backside with her hands and hoped her movements wouldn't draw any attention to that part of her anatomy.
"I-I was getting something," she stuttered, squeezing her eyes shut and wishing Ron would just assume that it was something boring and go back to sleep.
"What?" Ron's voice didn't sound particularly sleepy anymore, much to Hermione's horror.
"It doesn't matter," she replied quickly.
The seconds ticked by and for a moment Hermione thought he would give up.
"Come back to bed then."
The words sent a shiver down her spine, but Hermione had no time to indulge her teenage fantasies of Ron saying that sentence and how she would react. She was gradually becoming more panicked, knowing that the longer this situation went on, the worse it would get, but still being unable to stop it.
"In a minute."
Her mumbled plea was met with silence once more. Still with her eyes closed, Hermione tried to breathe evenly and hoped that Ron's vision was still clouded with sleep so that he wouldn't notice.
"Look at me," he sighed in a way that made Hermione instantly want to melt into a puddle. If he ever found out what the deeper and calmer version of his voice did to her self-control…
Hermione looked over her shoulder and saw Ron, bed hair sticking up everywhere, still lying under the covers of her bed, hugging a pillow and observing her with a bewildered expression. If it wasn't for how self-conscious she felt right now, Hermione would find the sight undeniably the most heart-warming thing she had ever seen.
"Why're you doing that?" He frowned and looked even more confused.
She gaped at him. "You asked me to!"
Ron opened his mouth to reply but seemed unable to think of a response. Instead, with a huge sigh, he sat up and let the duvet fall around his waist. Great, Hermione thought, trying not to stare. Now she had to try and conduct herself in a proper manner while she could see that patch of freckles and nipples and that trail of ginger hair that went from his navel to… well… the thing that had started all of this.
"Is this a weird girl thing?" Ron asked with another sigh.
"Weird girl thing?"
"Yeah," nodded Ron, "where I'm supposed to understand why you're acting like a nutter but I really don't."
"No," spat Hermione, offended that Ron even thought a thing even existed.
"Right," he said slowly. "So… come back to bed."
And now he was saying that when she could see his eyes. It wasn't like Ron even had a specific come hither look; it seemed every time he looked in her direction Hermione wanted to go hither to him.
"No."
They stared at each other, her blushing and him baffled. She had somehow gone nearly seven years of knowing him without making him think she was completely crazy. Seven weeks into a relationship with him, however, and he looked as though he was about to have a bed booked for her next to Gilderoy Lockhart.
Eventually he rolled his eyes. "What do you want me to do?" he asked heavily, accepting defeat.
"Could you – um – turn around?" she requested timidly.
Instead of complying, Ron's eyes widened in surprise. "What?"
"Turn around."
"I've seen it all befo-" Ron started before covered his eyes with one of his large hands his shoulders sagged. "Is that what this is about?"
"Just turn around," Hermione demanded.
"Why?"
"It's different standing up!"
Her exclamation was met with more baffled silence and goldfish impressions by Ron and Hermione wondered why someone hadn't taken sympathy on her and allowed the Earth to swallow her whole.
"Do you turn green or something?" smirked Ron. Now that he seemed to find the situation amusing, Hermione felt the beginnings of anger stir inside of her.
"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped. "It's just different."
"Different?"
"Gravity?"
"I've seen you sat up naked before," Ron said dismissively.
"Yes, but that's when – things – are happening," Hermione groaned. It wasn't like she thought any part of her was particularly bad, it was just that it always seemed to look a lot better when she was lying down. While her breasts almost disappeared, she had got used to that over the past couple of weeks and Ron didn't seem to care, but that was still while they were moving around or under a duvet. Even now, after weeks of Ron's reassurances, Hermione was still convinced that she had somehow been fooling him and, the moment he saw the real her, he would suggest they were better off as friends.
Ron on the other hand, still looked as though she had gone mad and was trying desperately to make sense of the situation. However, he appeared to be becoming frustrated and that usually made him fumble over words.
"Well, yeah," he replied, looking as if he wasn't trying to remember the things she was talking about, "okay, they move and stuff-" He made a weird gesture with his hands and Hermione wondered what on Earth she must look like. "-but still. Besides," he added with a cheeky grin, "I can already see your arse."
Giving up all notions of subtlety, Hermione clamped her hands over her behind and tried to cover as much as possible.
"Don't look at it!"
"Why?" chuckled Ron. "It's a great arse."
"Stop."
"Best thing about it?"
"Shut up."
"That freckle."
"There's no freckle!"
"There is," Ron said knowingly. "Have you never looked? You should. It's a great arse."
"Ron," Hermione growled, thinking that there was at least one great arse in the room.
"Really. If that were my arse, I wouldn't cover it up with boxers," he continued jovially, ignoring her warnings.
"Stop talking!"
"I would with jeans though," he said dreamily. "It looks spectacular in jeans."
"RON!"
Finally Ron sat back against the head board with a smug smile about his lips and his eyes moved from her bum up to her face. Straight away, Ron's grin fell away into a look of confusion. Hermione didn't know exactly why, but she suspected it had something to do with the tears building in her eyes. She felt silly but the situation had span far out of her control and she just wanted to crawl into bed with Ron and hope he stopped complimenting her. Saying he liked what she was wearing was one thing, but this was clearly just him trying to wind her up and it was cruel.
She knew she wasn't one of the classic beauties and she was okay with that. She loved that Ron loved her for her and not how she looked and him pretending like this just made her angry.
"Hermione?" Ron said tentatively. He had clearly noticed her upset and was treading carefully. "You do know that you're fit, right?"
"Fit?" scoffed Hermione.
"Yeah," nodded Ron. "Sexy. Supremely fuckable."
"Your idea of flattery gets worse every minute," she replied dryly. Hermione tried to tell herself that she wasn't flattered in the slightest, but the heat rising in her face told a different story.
It seemed that Ron's good humour had disappeared. He sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knees and frowned at her. "Why are you hiding?"
"I'm not," she mumbled.
Ron sighed. "Turn around."
He looked so serious and his deep, calm voice was back so Hermione gulped and felt herself slowly revolve on the spot. She covered herself with her hands and stared at her feet, knowing her face was likely bright pink and wishing he would either speak or fall straight back to sleep somehow. Anything to end this embarrassment would do.
After a couple of seconds though, Hermione couldn't help but have a peek at his reaction and noticed he was watching her face, though it was clearly costing him some effort.
"See?" he shrugged as if his point was obvious. "You're beautiful and all that."
Hermione rolled her eyes and sniffed, slightly horrified that this whole thing had somehow made her teary eyed. Her boyfriend, for reasons she couldn't begin to fathom, genuinely thought she was beautiful. It didn't matter that he was wrong for so many reasons that she could spend the rest of the night listing.
"Right." Ron suddenly pulled back the covers completely and scrambled out of bed with very little grace, his long limbs unfolding before her, all pale, covered in freckles and fine ginger hair. He stood a foot in front of her, his arms out-stretched, and raised his eyebrows at her.
"Now we've both seen each other naked and dangly. Is that better?"
Hermione looked into his resigned face and couldn't help but fall deeper in love with him. Somehow.
"Dangly?" she chuckled before snorting with laughter. Immediately Ron joined in and soon enough they were both stood naked in the middle of bedroom, breathless from giggling.
"C'mere," whispered Ron when they had stopped, pulling her into a hug. She held him around the middle and snuggled against his chest, loving the feel of everything from his head resting on hers, to her toes overlapping with his.
With a sigh, Hermione pulled back before standing on her tip-toes to kiss him chastely on the mouth.
"You're not so bad yourself, you know?" she said shyly, arms still wrapped around him.
"Hmm?"
"Handsome. Sexy. Supremely-" Ron raised his eyebrows in preparation of the word stuck in her mouth. "I'm sure you know the rest of that well-known phrase."
Even though he grinned at her avoidance, Hermione was sure she saw the tips of his ears burn red before he ducked down to kiss her again. She wasn't sure how long they were kissing before Ron pulled back.
"Can we get back in bed now?" he whinged. "I'm cold."
"Okay," Hermione giggled and took a step towards her bed but Ron pulled her back.
"Actually, can I put my boxers back on first?" he asked awkwardly. "I don't really like sleeping in the buff. I just get really paranoid that some kind of emergency will happen in the middle of the night and I'll have to deal with it with my bits out."
Hermione laughed before kissing him again briefly and hopping back into bed. As she burrowed back under the covers, she watched Ron find his underwear and put it on, thankful that she had not only found a boyfriend whom she loved just as much as he loved her and was as accidentally perfect as it was possible to be, but that he also had an issue with them both sleeping naked. Ron soon joined her, hugging her from behind once more, and Hermione doubted she'd ever be as happy at gone one in the morning again.