A/N If you want to avoid smut, only read to the "OOOOOOO".

Enjoy!

~Dot

Chapter 6: Searching

Hermione had misplaced her copy of The Healer's Helpmate and could not find it anywhere. She had looked all throughout the tent—well, almost all throughout. There was one place she had avoided like the plague: the bedroom.

At the moment, it was the one place she truly didn't want to be. But she was bored out of her mind and exhausted from Harry's insistence on following the Deathly Hallows route. She needed some form of entertainment. The Healer's Helpmate was the only book she brought that she hadn't read upwards of three times, so it seemed like the best option.

But now, that meant she had to be in the same space as Ron.

She slowly opened the flap to their sleeping area, hoping that she wouldn't be seen if she was quiet enough. Ron was there, kneeling on the floor and hand folding their laundry. He had taken a special interest in all household duties since he came back, including making all the tea and attempting to cook. This meant that Hermione felt even more useless, and rarely had a thing to do besides catastrophising about the situation they were in.

"It would be faster if you magicked the laundry," Hermione remarked.

She hadn't planned to talk to Ron. No, she wanted to get out of that room as fast as possible. But it was hard for her, nowadays, to go without rudely commenting on what he was doing wrong.

Hermione was being spiteful, she knew. She hated herself for saying anything at all and it irked her to fight and be angry. There were plenty of other, better ways to respond to Ron, but she was concerned that if she let her guard down, even for a moment, she would break. Hermione couldn't let Ron see her that way–she was stronger than that.

"I know," Ron said with a smile. He had been taking Hermione's remarks in his stride, never rising to anger or striking back. "But look where that got me." He held up a shirt of his, which happened to be missing a sleeve.

Hermione turned away from Ron feigning to be looking for her book, while actually hiding her smile.

"What are you looking for?" Ron asked, jumping up from his spot on the floor. "Can I help?"

"Just The Healer's Helpmate," Hermione replied, not wanting to start a conversation with him. "I don't need your help, you can get back to your folding."

Ron reluctantly sat down and resumed his muggle folding endeavours as Hermione meticulously searched through every nook and cranny of the small room while trying desperately not to think of Ron folding her pants and other undergarments.

Every so often, Hermione couldn't help but sneak a peek at Ron. He was seemingly enjoying the folding he was doing, which for some reason, never seemed to end. There was only so much clothing to fold, Hermione knew well, but somehow Ron made the small job last almost an hour.

While Hermione re-searched a small bag filled with knick-knacks–that couldn't possibly be large enough to hold the text she was looking for–she heard Ron wince. She looked up to see a piece of clothing caught on what was left of Ron's fingernail.

With a sigh, Hermione stood and retrieved dittany from her beaded bag.

"I don't know why you haven't healed them," Hermione chided while motioning to Ron's two missing fingernails.

"It's nothing," Ron said, waving her off. "We should save that for when we really need it."

"It will only take a couple of drops," Hermione retorted.

She nearly had to grab Ron's hand in order for him to let her heal him. Ron relented in the end, and after two drops exactly, and a couple of flinches from him, his fingernails had healed.

Hermione tried but failed not to make an I-told-you-so expression as Ron marvelled at his hands.

"Thanks," he said, looking so intensely into her eyes that she had to look away.

"How's your shoulder?" She asked.

Ron told her that it was fine, but after his lackadaisical approach to his fingernails, Hermione didn't believe him. After some pressuring, he slid his sleeve off of his shoulder exposing his mostly healed scars.

"Looks okay," Hermione said, nodding and putting the dittany back in her bag.

"Yeah," Ron said. If Hermione didn't know better, she'd say he looked ashamed. "Fleur helped," he added, his head hanging low.

Hermione nodded and returned to her search, unsure what else to say.

After a frustratingly long amount of time, Hermione was still empty-handed and with a grunt she got up, deciding she'd have to search the rest of the tent again.

"No luck?" Ron asked.

Somehow, he was standing right behind her as she went to exit the room. He was like that sometimes, quiet and fast, showing up right when she least expected it.

Hermione shook her head and continued to walk away, but his hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"I know you don't want to hear it," Ron said softly. "But I've got to tell you at least one more time."

Hermione felt a shiver go down her back, and she didn't know if it was from Ron's words or his gentle touch on her shoulder.

She didn't dare turn to face him.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione. I've got no excuses, nothing that makes what I did right. I tried to come back as soon as I left, I really did. I'd do anything not to have made that decision again."

Hermione could hear the emotion in his voice, she could feel his sorrow radiating, and yet, she still didn't turn around.

"I wouldn't blame you if you hated me forever," Ron added. "I just need for you to know how sorry I am."

"I don't hate you," Hermione nearly whispered, finally turning to face him.

His hand fell from her shoulder as she turned. Hermione hadn't realised just how close he was to her. She could feel his laboured breath on her face as she looked into his eyes.

"I could never hate you," she said. "I know why you did it, and I know that you wanted to come back."

She could see Ron visibly relax at her words.

"I should have forgiven you that first day," she added, "it was cruel of me not to. I think I wanted to punish you, and I'm sorry for that."

"That seems to be our go-to," Ron smirked.

"It does," Hermione said with a sad smile. "And it shouldn't be. I forgive you, Ron Weasley," she said, staring into his mesmerising blue eyes, "if you forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive," Ron said with a shake of his head. "If the tables were turned I'm sure I'd do the same."

"I'm so happy you're okay," Hermione said, surprising herself by wrapping her arms around him. "I was so worried," she whispered as tears threatened to break free.

Ron squeezed her tightly, she heard him open his mouth and then close it again, apparently unsure what to say.

After a few minutes of holding each other, they separated only slightly. Hermione looked up at Ron and could see tears in his eyes.

"We're here now," Ron asserted. "We've got to make the most of it."

If questioned on what happened next, Hermione wouldn't be able to tell who leaned in first.

All she knew was that they kissed.

OOOOOOO

Ron's lips were soft, but the intensity in which he leaned into her was anything but. His arms tangled into her hair and the weight of his body pushed her against a nightstand.

Just as Hermione began to bring her arms around him, he pulled away. Almost stumbling back, so that they were feet apart.

There was so much Hermione wanted to say, so many questions she wanted to pose. But no words came out of her mouth. Instead, she just stared at Ron, who was starting just as fiercely back at her. They stood there, not moving or making a sound, their irregular breaths the only noise in the dimly-lit room.

Then, all of a sudden they were back together, Hermione's arms wrapping so quickly around Ron's waist, as their lips met again, that Ron stumbled back, the bed frame behind him hitting his knees so that he plopped onto the bed. His head hit the top bunk's frame with a clunk.

"Sorry," Hermione whispered, reaching over to rub his injured spot.

Ron shook his head, and pulled Hermione closer to him, almost lifting her so that her knees were on the bed, one on each side of his body.

The newfound closeness startled Hermione. She had never been this physically near anyone, with so much of her body touching his. If she just sat back, she would be on top of him, their thighs clasped together.

They resumed their kissing, more frantically this time. Ron spread his lips, and Hermione mimicked his movements as his tongue entered her mouth. Their tongues wrestled for a bit, until Ron pulled his mouth away.

Hermione found herself almost whining as he stopped snogging her, but her sadness was soon replaced with a much better emotion as Ron began to kiss her down her neck. She didn't hold back as he made his way up and down her neck, and let out a tiny moan as he gently sucked her nape.

The sound she made must have fired something in Ron because as soon as she whimpered, he clumsily lifted her and laid her down on the small bed. He had to angle awkwardly to fit over her, but he managed to reunite their lips in a matter of seconds.

Hermione felt lost in ecstasy, Ron's scent, taste, and roaming hands felt all-encompassing—there was nothing else she could think of, nothing she could focus on, other than him.

Ron's left hand gently wandered across the side of her torso, causing Hermione to shiver, while his right hand held him up. Her shivers encouraged Ron, and he moved his hand under her shirt, careful to avoid her chest, but still teasing her as he walked his fingers over her stomach.

Without thinking, Hermione shot up, narrowly avoiding hitting her head on Ron's and forcefully removed her top before she could change her mind.

She was still wearing her bra, and Ron had seen her in a more revealing bathing suit before, but, by the look on Ron's face, it was as if she had completely exposed herself. His eyebrows were raised and his mouth slightly ajar. Even in the dim light, Hermione could see that Ron was the shade of a ripe tomato.

Hermione lent over and grabbed her wand to cast a locking and silencing charm on the room. Harry still had hours on his watch, but it didn't hurt to be careful.

When she laid back down on the bed, Ron was still in the position he had been in, seemingly frozen in space. Hermione reached for Ron's hand and brought it to her stomach, forcing him to lean over her again. She slowly moved his hand from her bare stomach to her cloth-covered breast.

With a jolt, Ron was back to his normal self and began covering her in kisses, making a trail from her mouth to the tops of her breasts and then back again.

After agonizing minutes of his teasing, Hermione couldn't take it anymore and reached behind herself to remove her bra. This time, Ron wasn't dazed. Instead, he immediately went to work touching, teasing, and sucking her breasts.

Hermione was glad for her earlier preparation, as she was sure Harry would have been able to hear her moans without the silencing spell.

Before she knew it, Hermione and Ron were only in their pants. Ron's Griffendor bravery shone as he reached for her most sensitive spots. Even with the layer of cloth in between her and his fingers, the sensation was inconceivable. After some fumbling, Hermione gasped and sat up as Ron found the exact right spot.

"You okay?" Ron asked, shooting his hands in the air as if under arrest.

"Yes," Hermione gasped.

When Ron didn't return his hands and the startled expression he had on his face didn't change Hermione added: "please, don't stop."

The confident smirk that crossed Ron's face could have made Hermione melt, and minutes later his hands did just that.

Hermione was feeling pure bliss as she came down from her Ron-made high. Ron littered her with kisses as he told her how hot and bloody beautiful she was.

Hermione was sure life couldn't get much better. But then, they both removed the little amount of clothing still stuck to their sweaty bodies.

After some position changes and a failed attempt at Hermione being on top, they found their rhythm, and not soon after Ron collapsed next to her, looking as euphoric as Hermione had moments ago.

Hermione took Ron's distraction to cast a cleaning and contraceptive spell on herself and then turned to face him.

As soon as Ron's eyes opened and met hers, they both broke out into gleeful laughter.

"I can't believe…" Ron started, his eyes gleaming as he pushed Hermione's hair out of her face.

"Me neither," Hermione replied.

She couldn't believe what had happened. Not too long ago, they had been folding and searching, with Hermione trying to avoid looking at Ron for more than a second.

Now, she didn't mind taking her time, looking him up and down, trying to take in every inch of him.

"Do you," Ron started meekly, casting his eyes down and removing his hand from her face, "regret it?"

"No," Hermione said urgently, grabbing his head in her hands so that he could see her face. "Not in the least."

Ron's face lightened.

"Do you?" Hermione asked.

"Definitely not," Ron said with a smile.

He leaned in and gave Hermione a quite modest kiss, all things considered.

Hermione shivered, and Ron reached to grab a blanket and covered their naked bodies. Their limbs tangled together and Hermione rested her head on his chest, happy to stay there with him, listening to his steady breath, for the rest of eternity.

"I love you," Ron whispered so quietly that Hermione looked up at him, unsure if she had imagined what he said. "I have for a while," Ron said with the most earnest expression Hermione had ever seen from him. "I want you to know that. I'm not using you. You mean everything to me."

Hermione leant up and kissed Ron tenderly on the cheek.

"I love you too," Hermione confessed.

"Really?"

"Really."

They laid together for the rest of the night, kissing and catnapping until the sun rose, completely unaware of what the next day would bring to them.