'Absolutely not.'

'Ronald, you're being incredibly unreasonable.'

'Unreasonable? 'Mione, we almost died !'

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes as Ron dramatically threw out his arms, his ears and neck reddening by the second. She huffed in annoyance and folded her own arms over her chest as she glared at him across the coffee table.This was an argument that they'd been having almost weekly for the last 2 months. Hermione was determined to return to Hogwarts, to sit her final year. McGonagall had sent letters to everyone from their year with an offer to return and re-sit their exams, and she and Ginny had leapt at the chance.

But when she'd told Ron, she'd been genuinely shocked when he'd informed her that he didn't want her to go back. He had argued that the castle was still insecure, and that it was too likely a target for the remaining Death Eaters who might still want to find her. She understood his concern, and to a point it was sweet that he cared about her so much. But Hermione had always been the one to do the bossing around in their friendship and relationship, and she would be damned if this was the first thing she bowed to him over. Besides, she'd been gathering information from those still involved with the restoration of Hogwarts, and she opened her mouth to deliver what she hoped would be the final closing words on this matter.

'What's going on?' Their heads whipped around to the doorway, and Hermione felt a flood of relief when she saw Harry watching them cautiously.

'Oh, we're just fighting about Hogwarts,' Hermione said, her tone saccharine sweet as she glowered at Ron. 'Again.'

'Seriously, Ronald?' Ginny's exasperated voice cut through whatever Ron had been about to say as she swept into the living room and plonked herself down on the sofa between the two. Harry followed, eyeing her nervously as though assessing how close to danger she was in this position. Hermione did roll her eyes this time as she sank into the cushions next to her female best friend. Harry had been almost as insufferable as Ron in his smothering protectiveness. A fact that had caused Ginny and Hermione to conveniently 'disappear' together for at least an hour each day to gripe about their overbearing partners.

'Butt out, Gin,' Ron rumbled, shooting a frown at his sister. Behind her, Harry stiffened slightly, but Hermione didn't think Ron had noticed as he went on, 'This has nothing to do with you.'

'Actually, it has everything to do with me,' Ginny replied calmly as she examined her nails. 'I want to go back to Hogwarts, too, but I don't feel like I'll be able to if I don't have Hermione there. So if you stop her going back, you're stopping me, too.' Hermione grinned at the younger female beside her.

'That's absolutely ridiculous!' Ron bellowed, gripping his hair in frustration before rounding on Harry. 'You're seriously going to tell me that you're OK with this?'

'It's not my choice to make,' Harry said carefully.

'What the f-'

'Language, Ronald.' They all turned to see Arthur and Molly entering the room. The two took up seats at either end of the room and surveyed the now frozen scene. Arthur crossed his legs, then went on, 'Now, what's all the racket about?'

'Hermione and Ginny want to go back to Hogwarts,' Ron bristled, sinking into the armchair across from Hermione and levelling a hard stare at her.

'And Ronald believes that he can stop Hermione from doing what she wants,' Ginny quipped, ignoring that Ron snarled at her without breaking his gaze. Hermione sat up straighter and held eye contact, silently trying to show him that she wouldn't be bending on this.

'Hermione?' She looked at Molly, who'd spoken so quietly. 'Is this true, dear?' Hermione felt herself blushing. Molly sounded confused, if not a little hurt. Maybe she should have had a conversation with them about this, too.

'Yes, Molly. Professor McGonagall has offered us the chance to go back and finish our education.'

'I see,' Molly sighed, and she looked down at her folded hands. The room seemed to hold its breath while she thoughts. She sighed again, then looked up at them all in turn. 'I ... I don't know about this. Arthur?'

'Well, let's see.' Arthur frowned deeply as he considered the issue. 'I suppose that the main concern here is about safety, particularly considering how high profile you all have become recently. Am I right?' This last was directed to his son, but Hermione couldn't keep quiet any more.

'If I may,' she interrupted quickly, ignoring the glower Ron sent her way. 'I've been speaking with the Ministry team that's been working at Hogwarts over this past month, and they tell me that all of the wards around the castle have been refreshed and reinstated, with up to date magic and with special attention paid to the weaknesses that were identified during the war and restoration process.' She dared a glance at Ron, and was pleased to see surprise on his face. She felt a little smug as she turned back to Arthur, and noted the approval in his eyes. Finally, she looked to Molly, who was now watching her, chewing her lip nervously.

'Ginny is one thing. I suppose she would be less at risk, even with her now public connection to Harry. But you, Hermione? I don't know. I know we have no legal say over what you do, but you're part of this family. I just - '

'Oh, come on, Mum.' Hermione jumped at the voice behind her and spun around. Unnoticed by her, George had sidled into the room and was standing behind her. He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle smile before gazing about the room, his eyes landing on Ron. 'We all know that if anyone can protect themselves, it's our Hermione.'

'But - '

'This isn't your choice, Ronnie. We all care about Hermione. She's done so very much for all of us in the past few months - ' Hermione gulped, her eyes burning, and George's fingers tightened on her shoulder slighty ' - and I think with the numerous ways she's saved your and Harry's asses over the years, you'd have a bit more faith in her abilities. And I'd be very surprised if anyone returning to Hogwarts this year will be able to so much as fart in the wrong place at the wrong time without the might of the Ministry decending in seconds. So if Hermione wants to finish her education, who are we to say no?'

George finished speaking, and they all blinked at him for a few moments. It was the longest that he'd talked to any of them since they'd returned from the battle, and Hermione heard Molly snuffling in the silence. She brushed a hand across her eyes to wipe away her own tears, and gave George a watery but grateful smile. She took a deep breath before turning back to face Ron. His face was the picture of defeat. She bit back her smile, but couldn't stop her heart from leaping with joy. She was going back to Hogwarts.

Over the following week, the atmosphere in the Burrow was somewhat tense. Molly still appeared unsure about the girls' plans to return to school, but even though Hermione saw her pressing her lips together every time she entered a room, she didn't voice any further dissent. She and Ron spent most nights together, but the conversation was somewhat stilted and she could see that he was hurting. George took the opportunity to play on the unrest by constantly asking Hermione and Ginny about how their preparations to return were coming and what subjects they'd be taking, and it was so much like the old George that no-one dared pull him up on it in case it sent him spiralling down again.

But a week after the decision had been agreed, the difficulties between her and Ron were weighing heavily on Hermione. She started thinking more about her parents every day, missing the option to retreat to a place more familiar to her than the Burrow, a place that reminded her of the days before the war and the comfort and security she had felt. More than anything, she just needed a break from thinking about everything that they had been through over the last year.

And so she made the decision. She waited until the house was empty one day - Ron, Harry, Ginny, George, Charlie and Bill out playing Quidditch with Fleur watching; Percy visiting Audrey; Molly and Arthur out on one of their long walks through the fields around the property - before heading upstairs, collecting her belongings from Ron's room and, with one last look around, she Apparated back to her parents' house for the first time since she'd left over a year ago. She didn't need to be there long. Maybe just long enough for a shower, to collect the things she would need for her return to Hogwarts, and perhaps to just sit in silence for a couple of hours.

When she landed in the hallway, she immediately raised her wand and cast the necessary spells to check for intruders, and finding none she cast protective and warding spells. Then she allowed herself to take it in. The peace. The undisturbed, almost stale air in the home made her feel strange. She looked around, trying to remember how the house had felt when it was her home. Hoping to regain that feeling, she walked around the downstairs rooms. She looked at the changed photos that now contained just her parents, ran her fingers along the familiar spines of the books in the living room, found the usual crockery in the kitchen cupboards, and soon found herself standing in the hallway again, staring at the pictures that hung on the wall along the stairs, listening to the rain hammering down outside.

She almost jumped out of her skin when someone banged on the front door. Whoever it was, they didn't knock, they hammered. She held her wand loosely at her side as she slowly advanced towards it, hesitating only briefly before pulling it open. On the front door step stood a very wet, very angry Ron.

'Ron, what -' she began, but immediately scurried backwards as he stormed through the door, kicking it shut behind him and standing in front of her, breathing heavily and dripping on the carpet.

'Where have you been, Hermione?' he asked through clenched teeth. She rolled her eyes, stowing her wand in her back pocket and folding her arms over her chest before answering him.

'I've been here, Ronald. You know, at my home? Why are you here? You're absolutely soaked and -'

'I'm here because you left!' he bellowed suddenly. His fists were clenched so tightly that she could see all of his knuckle bones clearly, and the flush rising up his neck contrasted starkly with his pale skin. 'We heard someone Apparate at the house and when we came back to check, we found you missing! You left without leaving a note or a message or telling ANYONE where you were going or for how long!' His jaw clamped shut in a way that made the dentist's daughter inside of her cringe. Outwardly, Hermione stood her ground and stared levelly back at him.

'I'm a grown woman, Ronald, I can take myself off home for a shower and a change of clothes if I want to. And besides, you're hardly one to talk about leaving -' she bit into her tongue to stop herself talking, but it was too late.

Ron's head reeled back as though she had physically slapped him, and she saw something snap behind his eyes. His arms went limp at his sides, and his jaw dropped open in a sudden grimace of pain. His knees seemed unable to hold his weight and he buckled to the floor with a loud crash in front of her so that he was kneeling at her feet. He seemed to be looking right through her, staring straight ahead, not seeing anything. Tears sprang from his bright blue eyes, dripping from golden lower lashes to splash onto freckled cheeks. She immediately sank to the floor in front of him, wiping at the endless stream of tears with her fingers.

'Oh Ron, I'm so sorry, that was very unfair of me, I - oof!' She found herself pinned to his chest, his arms having swept out lighting-fast to gather her up and crush her against him. Her hands went to his hair and she stroked her fingers through it, hoping to sooth him.

'I th-thought you'd been t-taken again,' he choked out, and she gasped. Well done, Hermione, she thought bitterly. Of course that's where his first thoughts would have gone. How could she have been so stupid as to not know that?

'Oh Ron, gods I really am sorry, I just didn't think -' She paused when he snorted through his tears.

'You? Didn't think? Unlikely,' he chuckled weakly against her neck. She could still feel his tears falling against her shoulder, but they seemed to have slowed and his grip around her waist had loosened slightly. She sat back to look at him, and as she did he brought one of his hands up to her face and cupped it gently, his eyes running over her features as if to make sure that she was really there.

'I'm sorry, Ron,' she whispered. 'I just wanted ... I wanted to be home for a bit. I should have told you.' He let out a shuddering sigh, and shook his head slowly.

'No, you've every right to do what you want. I just panicked when I couldn't find you, and all I could hear was ...' he went pale and stopped, unable to continue. She leaned forward to rest her forehead against his, and he let out another sigh, this one less shaky and more satisfied than the last.

'I promise I'm fine,' she told him, as reassuringly as she could. 'See?' She leaned back again and held her fingers in front of his face, wiggling them all to prove they were there. He laughed softly and caught her hands in his, bringing them to his lips and softly kissing her fingertips. The suddenly intimate nature of this brought her to the realisation that she was sitting straddled in his lap, their bodies pressed close together and him still soaking wet. Pushing away the thoughts of their closeness that threatened to flood her mind, she cleared her throat and stood up, her own legs now slightly shaky. He looked up at her from the floor, confused.

'You're soaking, Ron. You'll catch cold. Come on, why don't you take a hot shower and I'll dry your clothes and make us some tea?' He nodded silently and got unsteadily to his feet. She took his hand and led him upstairs to the bathroom, where she showed him how the shower worked and found him a clean towel. 'When you're ... (shut up, brain, she thought) when you're undressed, just put your clothes outside the door and I'll dry them for you, OK?' She smiled up at him and squeezed his hand, then turned to leave the bathroom. She didn't get far, however, as his hand suddenly tightened on hers, keeping her next to him. She turned back to look at him, and saw the fear etched all over his face. Her heart hurt to think she had caused him such pain, and she ran her thumb gently against the back of his hand. 'I'll be right downstairs, and I've warded the house so no-one can get in or out unless I want them to.'

'That would explain why I couldn't Apparate here,' he murmured softly, almost to himself. She waited until his grip loosened on her hand and he had nodded at her before breaking their connection and leaving the bathroom. She headed downstairs, filled and switched on the kettle and wiped dust from two mugs she got out of the cupboard, dropping a tea-bag into each. While she waited, she leaned back against the kitchen counter and sighed deeply. He was right, she knew. She should have told someone where she was going. It had been unfair of her to do that to him, let alone the rest of the Weasleys and Harry. She realised she should let them know that they were both OK, and soon. She'd talk to Ron about it when he was done.

She heard the shower being switched on in the room above her, and padded softly up the stairs to find his clothes heaped outside the door. For some reason, his habit of just dumping clothes in piles, a habit she'd known he had for as long as she'd had witness to the inside of his bedroom at the Burrow, made her smile. Ron had grown into a man and had been forced to grow up faster than most, as they all had, but this reminded her that there was still some of the boy he'd been in there, the boy she'd been in love with for years. Probably since she'd told him he had dirt on his nose, if she was honest.

Still smiling at her memories, Hermione waved her wand over his clothing, instantly drying the items and leaving them warm and folded in a stack outside the door for him to put on again once he was showered. She returned to the kitchen as the kettle finished boiling, and heard the shower being shut off as she poured hot water into each mug. She was adding two sugars to his cup when she heard his not-so-light tread on the stairs, and looked over her shoulder to see him stood awkwardly in the doorway. His long red hair, still damp, stood up at different angles, and he was rubbing the back of his neck with one large hand, another habit she thought he'd probably never lose.

'Come sit down, Ron,' she said, smiling at him. She strained the tea bags and conjured some milk to add to the cups, then carried them over to the small kitchen table where he sat and placed them on the mats there.

'Thanks,' he mumbled, looking up at her and smiling. She reached out absent-mindedly and ran her fingers through his hair in an attempt to tidy it. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh that was almost a moan, and apparently subconsciously he put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him so that she stood between his legs. Her hand stopped moving, and his eyes snapped open and he let her go, his ears reddening as he muttered, 'Sorry.'

'It's OK,' she replied, her voice slightly strangled. She shook her head, ignoring the sudden warmth spreading in her lower abdomen, and sat down next to him. They sat in silence for a few minutes, both staring at their cups. She jumped a little when he spoke.

''Mione?'

'Yes?'

'You ...' he swallowed and pushed out his next words. 'You can't just disappear like that. I mean, I know it was wrong, me coming after you like that, and I'm sorry I yelled. But you can't ... not yet, I ...' he shook his head as he trailed off, staring down into his tea.

'I know, and I'm sorry too, Ron. I should have told someone, told you, where I was going. I just needed a bit of space and time to think and consider what to do next. I should have thought ...' They both lapsed into silence again, sipping their tea, deep in their own thoughts.

'When I'm not with you ... ' he began, then shook his head. 'I shouldn't be saying this.'

'Go on,' she urged him, and when he shook his head again she placed her hand on his arm and squeezed. 'Please?' He leaned back in his chair and sighed, running a hand through his hair and effectively undoing her efforts to neaten it.

'When I'm not with you, it's all I can think about. Malfoy Manor.' She flinched slightly at the name, and his eyes jumped to her face immediately, worry playing across his own features. She nodded, indicating that he should continue. 'I think back to ... to it, and I remember hearing your screams and not being able to get to you. I remember finally getting out, and it was like I was blind to anything but you. I could almost feel where you were. And when we found you ... I think about how broken you were. How I wasn't there to stop it. It comes back to me, every time I can't see you.' His face was pale, and his hand shook slightly as he ran it roughly over his mouth. His eyes were wet again as he looked into hers. 'I'm so sorry, 'Mione. I should have been with you. I should have stopped it happening.'

'Ron,' she whispered, and felt a tear of her own run down her cheek. She brushed it away and stared steadily into his eyes as she spoke again. 'Ron, you saved me that day.'

'But I was too late,' he muttered, his hands balling into fists on the table in front of him and his jaw clenching as it had earlier. 'I didn't stop her from -'

'You were with me the whole time,' she murmured. His head snapped up and he flicked his eyes over her face, trying to gain some meaning from her expression. She took a deep breath and plunged on. 'I heard you, Ron. I heard you shouting my name.' His face went pale again, and she reached across the table and grasped one of his hands in hers. 'It kept me going. I knew you were there and alive and that you would come and get me, and it kept me fighting. Any time I felt like giving up, I heard you. You gave me courage and strength. You saved me, Ron.' The last sentence came out with a small sob, and she realised she had begun to cry in earnest.

He reached for her and pulled her into his lap. She nuzzled into the crook of his neck and sobbed as he stroked her hair and rocked her gently in his arms, murmuring soothingly against her curls.

'Oh 'Mione, Love, it's OK, I've got you. You're safe now. It's OK.' His words broke through her tears, and she leaned back and placed her hands against his cheeks.

'I love you,' she whispered. They'd said it to each other before, but this time it felt desperate, like she was pleading with him, but she didn't know what for.

'I love you, 'Mione,' he said, and tilted his head up to brush his lips against hers. She sank into his kiss, her mouth molding to his, her hands moving to his neck to hold him to her. His arm around her waist tightened, pulling her closer to his chest, and the feeling of safety she always felt when he was close washed over her. Her body relaxed against his, and their kiss deepened again. She still felt desperate for something, and her hands moved to his chest and she balled his T-shirt in her fists as she broke away from him.

'Ron, I need ...' What did she need? He reached up and stroked the rough pad of his thumb across her lower lip, his eyes bright as they searched hers.

'What do you need, Love? Whatever it is, I'll do it for you. Tell me what you need.' His words cleared her mind.

'I need you,' she breathed. His own breath hitched in his throat, but he seemed to understand. He leant forwards to capture her lips again, and the desperation she felt intensified. She whimpered into his mouth and pulled at his shirt, almost ripping it from him. He responded to her need and broke their kiss to pull his shirt off over his head, then reached down and tugged hers off too, throwing it in the same direction as his. Their bodies crashed together and they both moaned at the contact of hot, bare skin. Their mouths reconnected and Ron's tongue dragged across her lower lip. She opened her mouth and pressed her own tongue against his, almost warring with it.

One of his hands wound into her hair and the other grabbed her hip, holding her hard against him. She dragged her nails down his chest and he growled softly, teeth gently biting into the flesh of her lower lip. She gasped as he tugged at her hair, releasing her mouth as her head tilted back. He kissed and licked the soft skin of her throat before biting into her neck, drawing a moan from her as she pressed down against his crotch. She could feel the evidence of his own need for her pressing against her thigh, but her position sat sideways in his lap left her aching for contact in other places.

'Ron,' she gasped out, momentarily losing her train of thought as his hungry lips reached the tops of her breasts and skimmed along her bra line. He grunted into her skin, and she grabbed his hair and pulled him away from her so she could focus. 'Ron, let's go upstairs.'

'S-sure,' he stuttered, his eyes glazed over and darkened with lust. Hermione had the sudden thought that she could tell him to jump off a bridge at this moment and he would think it the most wonderful idea in the world. She carefully disentangled herself from his arms and grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the kitchen after her. She dragged him up the stairs and into the bedroom of her childhood, barely registering the teddy bears and notebooks that still littered every surface. She had barely shut the door when Ron spun her to face him and pinned her back against it, one hand tilting her chin back as his lips sought hers.

Her body responded by pressing against him. Their height difference made it hard for her to gain the contact she wanted, and he appeared to feel the same way as he let a frustrated groan, bent his knees, slid his hands under her arse and lifted her up, pushing her back against the door. She wound her legs around his waist and they both groaned at the friction created when he pressed into her to hold her up. Hermione rolled her hips against him, and his head sank to her neck, muffling the 'Holy shit' that escaped him at the feeling. She did it again, and he suddenly pressed his pelvis hard against hers, holding her still and raising his head to stare into her eyes. His were so dark now that she shivered.

'This isn't going to last long if you keep doing that, 'Mione,' he rasped, his gaze now traveling down to her lips, her neck, her heaving chest. He bit his own lower lip and raised his eyes again to look at her. 'Fuck, you're beautiful,' he whispered. She wound her fingers into his hair and crushed her mouth to his, moaning at the electricity she felt course through her to her core.

He carried her away from the door and stumbled across the room before lowering her gently to the single bed. He stood over her with one hand on the mattress at her side and let his eyes and other hand slowly traverse the curves of her body, taking in her skin, now dotted with goosebumps and the flush that was spreading across her cheeks and chest as he looked at her intensely.

'So beautiful,' he murmured, and lowered his head to kiss her again. She soon forgot her embarrassment at his attention, and pulled him down to lie next to her on the bed. His hands skimmed across her breasts, and she impatiently reached behind her and unfastened her bra so that he could touch her skin. He cupped her breasts in his large hands and brushed his thumbs over her nipples.

She closed her eyes and whimpered at the sensation, draping one of her legs over his hips and pulling him closer to her centre. She opened her eyes again and found him watching her. They had touched each other many times before, and had sex on one occasion, but they'd always been in a dimly lit room or cramped into a cupboard somewhere in an effort to gain privacy in the constantly moving Burrow. Now, in the daylight, they could see each other clearly, and it added another level of intimacy to their touches.

Ron rolled her onto her back and traced his fingers lightly down between her breasts, across her stomach and to her hips. He traced patterns across the taught skin, up and over and between her hip bones, causing her to buck slightly under him. All the time he watched her face intently. She maintained eye contact when she could, but her eyelids flickered whenever his hands crept lower, teasing her.

'Ron, please,' she heard herself moan, and he stopped stroking her to unbutton her jeans. He pulled the zip down and sat back to pull them from her body, taking her knickers too. Again his eyes roamed over her, and when he looked back at her face he now looked ... hungry. She shivered again, and he laid next to her, leaning up on one elbow to continue watching her. His fingers resumed their tickling path across her hips, then began to sink lower, skipping over her centre and stroking slowly up the insides of her thighs. She squirmed at his touch, her whole body felt like it was on fire. Her hard nipples brushed the hot skin of his chest and she bit into her lower lip, trying to quieten the noises she was making in response to his attentions. She lost this battle when he gently slid a long finger along her folds, her mouth falling open in a groan of longing, her eyes rolling back in her head when he reached her clit.

'Fuck, 'Mione,' he growled, suddenly nipping at the skin of her breast with his teeth, making her open her eyes again. 'It was bad enough just touching you, but now seeing what it does to you when I do touch you? I don't know how long I can hold myself together.' And she saw the truth of it in his eyes, felt the hardness of him against her thigh as further evidence. She reached up and cupped his face.

'Then close your eyes,' she said. It sounded more seductive than she'd meant it to. He suddenly grinned at her.

'Are you kidding? And miss THIS?' His finger moved against her clit, and her eyes rolled back again, her mouth falling open further at the feeling. When she looked at him again, all traces of laughter were gone from his face and he murmured, 'Not a chance.'

His finger descended slowly through her folds again, and pressed against her entrance. He made sure she was looking into his eyes as he slowly eased the digit into her, causing her to gasp and buck against him. This only pressed him deeper into her, and they both groaned. He pulled the finger out slowly, then pushed back in faster than before.

'Ron ... more ... '

'Anything you want, Love.' He added a second finger and pushed them both deep inside her, still staring down at her. He started to fuck her with his fingers and her mouth fell open as she panted, her arms winding round his neck and gripping into his hair. His expression was one of awe as he watched her enjoying his ministrations, and when he pressed his thumb against her clit she came undone. She screamed his name as she rode his hand, clenching around his fingers. He continued to circle her clit as she came, extending her orgasm until she collapsed against the bed. As her breathing slowed down and she recovered her senses, she opened her eyes again and found him staring at her, open-mouthed. She giggled, reached up and pushed his jaw upwards, closing his mouth. He swallowed hard.

'That was the single hottest thing I've ever seen in my life,' he said, and she laughed again. She gently rubbed her thigh against the front of his trousers, against the hard rod still straining against the denim, and he gritted his teeth.

'You managed to hold yourself together though,' she smirked, and his eyes focused on her again. She saw a reflection of the desperation she'd felt earlier in his gaze, and reached down between them and pressed her palm to his crotch. He closed his eyes and grunted, his head falling forwards as he struggled to keep control.

'Ron,' she whispered, and he looked up at her through his long red fringe. 'Take me.' He growled and rolled onto her, sitting back briefly to unfasten his trousers and push them down, kicking them and his pants away and off the end of the bed. She bit her lip as she took in the sight of him, fully naked, his muscles standing out as he held himself over her, his member standing stiff and proud and pulsing. She wrapped her legs around his waist and lined him up with her entrance, but he stopped there.

''Mione ... '

'Yes?'

'I want you. So badly. And I know we've only done this once before, but I'm not ... I'm not sure how gentle I can be? I don't think I can ... control myself ...'

'Ron ... I don't want you to.' At her answer he groaned, and despite his warning when he did enter her he was gentle, giving her time to adjust to him. She was grateful for this as he was always bigger than she expected, and it took her a moment to nod to him. When she did, he set up a pace that showed his need for her. She felt consumed by his desire as he drove into her, hard and fast, over and over. He lowered his head to her chest and flicked his tongue over a hardened nipple before sucking it into his mouth and biting down gently. Her hips bucked, deepening the angle at which he entered her, causing them both to cry out.

''Mione, I'm so close ...'

'Me too, Ron, please!' She held onto him as her back arched from the bed in time with his thrusts, her desire building and burning hot inside her. He reached between them and circled her clit with his thumb again, and she came hard around him, clenching down repeatedly as his thrusts became erratic. He managed to cry out, 'Fuck, 'Mione!' before he succumbed to his own release, spilling into her and filling her with a liquid warmth. Both sweating and panting, they collapsed together on the bed, their need sated for now. Eventually he rolled off her, and she sighed at the loss of him, but felt placated when he pulled her tight to his chest.

'Promise me,' he whispered, his breath tickling her ear. 'Promise me you'll at least tell someone when you're leaving next time.'

'I promise. I love you, Ron.'

'I love you, 'Mione.' They were quiet for a whole before something occurred to her.

'We should probably tell your parents we're OK,' she murmured, but he didn't answer. She looked up to find him fast asleep. She carefully slipped out of his arms, kissed his forehead, then wrapped herself in her robe and headed downstairs to send a Floo message to the Burrow, silently swearing to herself that she would always tell her family where she was from now on.