First off, how in the world is it already December?! ? Anyway, this year I was lucky enough to get assigned to write a fic for the wonderful Rennervator! I hope he enjoys this one and please go check out all of his fics if you haven't already done so, they are amazing!
oOo
Ron let out a laugh as Harry emitted a particularly loud snore, his glassy gaze fixated on his slumbering best mate who had fallen asleep slumped in an armchair only minutes before. Hermione, who was sitting in the armchair opposite Harry, couldn't suppress her own smile as she watched, her lips curving up almost involuntarily. Instead of on the Chosen One, however, her eyes lingered on the handsome redhead, who was oblivious that she'd been staring at him for well over a minute now.
To both Ron and Harry's surprise, sharing the bottle of firewhiskey they'd found at Grimmauld Place had been her idea. When Hermione had suggested they take a night off and have some fun, the two boys had stared at her as if she'd grown an extra head, their bewildered expressions mirroring each other. Despite their initial disbelief, both were quick to accept, almost as if they were expecting Hermione to retract her proposal.
The evening, though not overly exciting, proved to be exactly what they needed. The trio spent several hours in simple contentment, the three of them seated in a small circle on the living area rug as they passed the bottle, each taking sips until it was drained of its contents. It hadn't taken long at all before Hermione found herself quite tipsy, her whole body looser as she relaxed in a way she seldom allowed.
Ron and Harry had looked so happy, the smiles never leaving their faces as they talked and joked about everything and nothing, all careful to avoid bringing up any topics that would abruptly change the mood of the room.
Following a rant over a well-known quidditch match, Harry had finally exhausted himself, leaving Hermione free to openly stare at Ron. She'd always found him attractive, of course, but the longer she stared, the more attractive he became. Normally Hermione, who was far too practiced at it, was adept at not making her feelings apparent. With great self control, she kept her love for him at bay, ensuring no one, especially Ron, could discern how much he really meant to her.
However, the influence of alcohol, whether fortunately or unfortunately (she remained undecided), rendered it nearly impossible to restrain her affection. His laugh had done something to her stomach, her insides twisting in a pleasant way as she watched him.
When Ron turned his attention from a sleeping Harry back to Hermione, he started when he found her eyes on him. His ginger hair was adorably ruffled and he looked as if he were trying to concentrate but wasn't quite able to do so, his eyes blinking rapidly.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" he asked, his question blunt but not at all unkind.
"I like your laugh," she answered with a shrug. Hermione's internal filter had long ago disappeared, but at that moment she didn't mind in the least and even found it quite liberating. "I really, really like it."
"My laugh?" Ron repeated, a goofy grin stretching across his freckled face. "Why?"
"I…" Hermione trailed off as she tried to find a way to better explain. "Your laugh," she started, "well, it makes my stomach-" using both of her hands, she twisted them in a circular motion over each other several times. "do this."
Ron attentively watched her hands, his eyebrows furrowed as he observed her display. After a moment he blinked and shook his head as if trying to clear it.
"Do you not understand what I mean?" Hermione asked when he still said nothing. His silence was disconcerting and she needed him to say something… anything. All was quiet and when Ron continued to withhold his response, she was on the verge of opening her mouth to elaborate when he finally spoke.
"I think I do," he said slowly, "but I'm a little drunk." He cleared his throat. "The thing is, I'm not thinking very straight and I don't want to jump to any conclusions only to-" He stopped, pursing his lips as if he'd already said too much.
The words were enough to pique Hermione's curiosity and she stood up, a bit wobbly on her feet as she sauntered to the sofa. Taking a seat next to Ron, she shifted until the sides of their bodies were touching. Ron appeared wary as she settled but he didn't put up any protest or move away from her, which she took as a good sign.
"Only to what?" she pressed, her face now only inches from his.
"Only to get my hopes up," he finished. His expression was inscrutable as his eyes roamed her face, obviously searching for a reaction to his words.
Hermione drew in a breath, hoping against hope she was correct in interpreting what Ron was insinuating. The intensity of his gaze led her to believe that something momentous was about to happen, even if she couldn't pinpoint what exactly. She was almost certain that with a gentle nudge she might finally uncover the depth (if any) of Ron's interest in her.
Summoning her Gryffindor courage, she boldly asked, "What do you hope for, Ron? I mean, when it comes to me?"
Ron sighed and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. "Honestly? Probably a lot more than you want to hear." His voice was quiet, his face downcast to the floor.
"You're so wrong." At her words, Ron's head snapped up, his expression one of hurt. Understanding he'd misinterpreted her words, Hermione hurried to explain. "You're wrong because I do want to hear."
His face relaxed and he appeared relieved but still unsure. "I'm not sure you do."
Hermione reached out to pat Ron's leg and only when he stiffened did she realize just how far up on his thigh her hand had landed. She didn't have time to ponder the position of her hand, though, because Ron jumped up, Hermione's arm falling limply to the place he'd been sitting. Shaking his head in an agitated manner, he began to pace back and forth on the rug in front of the fire.
"We should go to bed," he stated. "We've both been drinking, and it's probably not a good idea for us to be talking in this state." He shook his head again as if reinforcing this thought. "Not tonight. Not when we have less control over what we say. I mean…. What if I- what if one of us says something? Something we can't take back? It's a bad idea."
Now angry, Hermione stood to her feet and crossed her arms over her chest. "Maybe it's the perfect time to talk, Ronald," she argued. "Merlin knows we can't be honest with each other when we're sober."
"What about this mission?" Ron retorted, spinning around to face her and looking just as mad as she felt. He pointed his finger accusingly in her direction. "You're the one who pulled me aside and told me to take this thing seriously. You made me promise to put all my focus on Harry and help him with this task. You told me neither of us should focus on 'trivial' things unrelated to finding horcruxes." Ron did air quotes in the air as he glared at her.
Hermione frowned as she remembered the conversation. Yes, without saying it directly, she'd implied that the two of them not start anything and focus all their attention on the mission. At the time it had seemed the best thing, but now all she wanted was to go back and slap her past self.
Rather than admitting defeat, she placed her hands on her hips, her eyes hard as she said, "Yeah, well it was stupid of me to say that."
Ron laughed, but it was a short and mocking noise and unlike the flipping sensation she'd experienced earlier, this laugh only served to further fuel her anger. "Now I know it's a bad idea to talk to you if you're saying that."
"What's wrong with wanting something for myself!" she snapped. Unintentionally, the question came out as more of a shriek and brought Ron to a sudden halt.
After a quick glance at Harry, who was still dead to the world, Ron slowly turned to face her. "And what is it you want, Hermione?"
Not expecting the question, Hermione froze. What did she want? She wanted Ron to tell her he loved her, that he always had. She wanted to tell him she loved him too and that she wanted him… only him. She wanted to be together, to change their relationship status to something more, something she'd only ever dreamed of. She wanted it all with him, the good, the bad and the in-betweens.
But even in her inebriated state, Hermione knew those confessions were too much for tonight so she decided to set the bar lower. "I want you to kiss me," she declared.
Ron groaned and swore under his breath, his head dropping into his hands as his palms cradled his face. "Hermione, you're only saying that because you're pissed!" he muttered, his words muffled.
"I am not," she retorted, offended. "I want to kiss you all the time, I'm just good at hiding it!" Hermione let her eyes roam down the length of Ron's body and added, "Actually, I want to do even more than that with you, but-"
"Stop!" Releasing his face, Ron charged towards her, placing his large hands on her shoulders and effectively silencing her. "Merlin, Hermione, just shut. up."
He was breathing hard, desperation pouring out of him. It was the most erotic sight Hermione'd ever seen and she tried to move closer, growling in frustration when Ron's hands held her in place and forced her to keep her distance.
He groaned again. "You're trying to fucking torture me, aren't you?" he breathed, his eyes now closed. "Or test me or something? I'm not going to be able to win this test, Hermione. Keep pushing me and I'm going to give in. Merlin knows I'm weak as hell when it comes to you."
"Then it's simple isn't it?" Hermione said, confused as to why he was still dissuading her when he so clearly wanted to do what she was asking of him. "Let me win this one, Ron. Kiss me."
Ron sighed, his face close but not nearly close enough for her liking. His breath smelled like firewhiskey and perfection and she wanted so badly to taste him. "It's not a good idea," he said again, defeated. "If… if I kissed you right now, Hermione, you'd regret it."
"Would you regret it?" Hermione spun the concept right back at him. When he licked his lips, the action caused her to try and move again but his grip remained firm.
"No," he admitted. "No, I don't think I would."
She scoffed. "Then why are you so adamant I will?"
Ron seemed to ponder the question. "I know you, Hermione," he said, "I know you'd regret it."
"I wouldn't regret it, Ron," she insisted. "Just…just one kiss? A proper one," she added, wanting to ensure he wouldn't try and get away with something like a peck on the cheek.
"Do you really think things between us would be okay after that, Hermione? It's already hard enough keeping myself from you, but if I were to experience… If I were to kiss you it would be a thousand times worse than it is now. At least for me."
Although he appeared less certain than he'd been before, Hermione still sensed lingering doubt. In an attempt to alleviate his unease, she shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. "Of course it would still be okay between us, Ron. As the muggles say, we could just hit it and quit it."
Only after the words left her, did Hermione remember that the phrase was actually related to a more intimate context and not just a mere kiss. Her cheeks pinkened as the realization struck her.
Ron laughed, a genuine one this time that made her stomach flip as it had done earlier. One of his hands moved from her shoulder, his fingers skimming down the side of her face. His eyes were less glassy than they'd been earlier, a vulnerability in them she'd never seen before. "Hermione, I could never quit you."
"Then why…then why can't we…why won't you…" she spluttered, her voice practically a whine.
"You're bloody adorable, you know that?" he said with a smile.
"Am I bloody kissable?" she shot back, proud of herself for the quick retort despite her current state. Ron eyed her lips but remained motionless. "Please, Ron. Let's just…" She reached out, her fingers grasping the collar of his shirt to pull him closer.
It was working. She could both see and feel his resolve weakening, his hands shifting to her forearms, his touch gentle and light.
"We shouldn't." His voice was raspy, but this time there was no strength behind his words, almost as if he didn't believe them himself.
She nodded emphatically. "We should."
Just when Hermione was about to finally take matters into her own hands and breach the distance between them, Ron's expression changed, the corners of his mouth lifting into a small smirk.
"What?" she huffed, incredulous that he would dare ruin the moment only seconds before it happened.
"You're literally begging me to kiss you," he said, his grin widening. "Can't say I haven't dreamed of that a million and one times. Always figured it would be the other way around though, with me begging you."
The words brought a bout of embarrassment, the first of the night, and Hermione stepped away from him, crossing her arms. "Maybe you're right," she said in a haughty voice, "Nevermind what I said before about wanting you to kiss me. It's late, we should get to bed."
In an almost comical way, the smile slid from Ron's face. He didn't respond, but she could sense the internal battle he was undergoing.
"I'll see you in the morning," she said with an exaggerated yawn, desperately hoping her plan would work out as she wanted it to. She headed towards the stairs, and when her feet were on the bottom steps, Ron cried out.
"Wait!"
Hermione turned to see him in the same spot he'd been in, his eyes wide and panicked. Before she could respond, Ron was barreling towards her, his mouth set into a determined line. She barely had time to register what was happening before she was being swept into long arms, her torso being pulled against Ron's chest as his lips crashed onto hers.
It was even better than she imagined it would be.
Somehow, the snog managed to be simultaneously both aggressive and gentle, something she'd never known was possible. Though Ron's stubble was rough, his lips were soft, malleable and heaven against her own. Lifting her up, he spun them around so Hermione's back was against the wall, one hand between her shoulder blades, the other cradling the back of her head as he took the control she gladly relinquished.
Bliss lasted for several long seconds before they broke apart, the two of them gulping in much needed oxygen.
"Bloody hell," Ron panted.
And then they were moving together again, both eager to continue where they'd left off. Ron was the one to decelerate first, his kisses going from deep and passionate to slow and languid. Not wanting to stop but knowing it was probably the right thing to do before things got out of control, Hermione followed his pace until several light pecks ended it all and they moved away from each other.
"I..." Hermione began but trailed off, rendered speechless. While nothing in her regretted what had just happened, she now concurred with what Ron had stated earlier. Now that she knew what kissing him was like, she was never going to be able to get enough.
"I'll walk you to your room," Ron said, appearing to be struggling with this thought just as much as she was.
Suddenly overcome with exhaustion, Hermione nodded in agreement. Holding hands, the two made their way up the stairs together, stopping just outside the door of the room Hermione had been sleeping in.
For a moment she thought Ron was going to kiss her again, but he didn't. Stepping back, he cleared his throat, his thumb running over her knuckles in a reassuring manner.
"I'm going to go back downstairs and sleep on the sofa," he told her. "Y'know, in case Harry wakes up and needs me for anything."
Hermione nodded again, guilt crashing down on her. With everything that had happened, she'd completely forgotten about Harry. Their best friend had been struggling, his days filled with anxiety and stony determination, his nights filled with nightmares that had him waking up screaming at the top of his lungs.
Unlike Hermione, Ron hadn't forgotten their best mate, and that fact made her love him even more. She was amazed by him and his ability to keep tabs on everyone he cared about. That was one of the things she loved most about him and it only made her want to kiss him again.
And again.
And again.
"We're okay, right?" Ron asked, interrupting her musings. He looked nervous and Hermione realized she'd been silent for too long.
"More than," she assured, squeezing his hand. "Thank you for being such a great friend to Harry. He needs you." She paused. "We both do."
Ron's ears went red and Hermione bit down on her lip to stifle her smile.
"Uh, yeah… Thanks." He cleared his throat. "I'll see you in the morning, Hermione."
He turned to go but stopped when she called out, "Ron?"
Now facing her, he raised his eyebrows, attentively waiting for her to continue.
"I won," she said, finally releasing the smile she'd been holding back.
Ron laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners as her stomach swooped yet again. "No, I think I did."