Ron lifted his head from the pillow as he woke with a start. His arm swept out beside him, but he found the bed next to him empty. And cold. Something twisted low in hsi gut as he understood what that meant. Despite his request, she hadn't spent the night. He gritted his teeth as he forced himself to get up, dragging on clothes in an effort to distract himself from the dark thoughts swirling through his mind. He didn't want to consider what her absence meant. Didn't want to think what might happen now if she'd realised that she regretted what they'd done, or that it wasn't what she wanted ...

Groaning, he scrubbed a hand roughly over his face as he made his way to his door. The room was filled with the pale sunlight of early morning, and he realised that he must be awake quite early. He couldn't hear anyone else moving in the house right now. His back straightened as he suddenly became resolved. They'd talked through so much last night, shared so much that he wasn't willing to give up without a fight if necessary, and he might not get much other chance to talk to her alone before everyone else pulled her attention away. If he was going to talk to her, the best time would be now.

He rushed down the stairs as quietly as he could, quickly making a cup of hot tea in the large mug he knew she favoured, and made his way back up to Percy's room as fast as he could without spilling the tea. He paused outside the closed door, listening intently. He could hear her soft breathing, and took a moment to calm his own before softly rapping his knuckles on the wood and calling her name quietly, so as not to alert anyone else in the house. He waited, but heard no movement from beyond. So he knocked again and called again, his voice a little louder this time. Finally, there was an irritable grunt, followed by shuffling, then the door flew open and there she was. He tried very hard not to notice that she was wearing nothing but a long sleeping shirt, and her hair, her bloody beautiful, entirely distracting hair, curled and bushed around her head in a way that made him want to tangle his fingers in it. To distract himself, he raised the mug.

'Brought you a cup of tea.' He tried to smile, but even as he did so he knew that it didn't quite feel right on his face. His concern grew as he noticed that she seemed somewhat distressed, and was quickly spiraling into some unknown train of thought that was deepening that crease between her brows by the second. Desperate to interrupt whatever she was thinking, he cleared his throat. 'Are you going to invite me in, or ... ?'

'Oh!' She immediately stepped back from the doorway. 'Yes, of course! Please, come in, Ron.' He entered the room and made his way over to Percy's desk, setting the mug down while she shut the door behind him. He leaned back against the desk and watched as she turned to face him, folding his arms across his chest. His silent scrutiny appeared to make her nervous, and she raised a hand and combed her fingers through her hair in a half-hearted attempt to tame the wild bed-head curls.

'You didn't spend the night.' His voice was quiet even in his own ears, and he wondered how much of the pain she could hear in it. She stared at him, but it was too much to meet her gaze if she was going to call all of this off before it even started. So he looked away, one hand now rubbing the back of his neck, keeping his face purposely expressionless.

'I told you,' she said, abandoning her hair and stepping towards him. 'I didn't want your mum to find us. I thought it might ruin ... our first night.'

'Really?' He raised his head as his heartrate increased, hope flooding through him. He scanned her from under his shaggy fringe, trying to read her. She seemed genuine enough, and the worry that had flickered across her eyes earlier was nowhere to be seen. She nodded and stepped forward once more, now close enough to reach out and grab his hand. He squeezed her fingers and felt himself thaw. The furrows in his brow smoothed out, his jaw loosened, his shoulders and back became less hunched. 'I thought perhaps ...'

'You thought I regretted it,' she finished for him. He nodded, his eyes flicking away again. She reached up and touched his cheek, her fingers cool against his heated skin, and he returned his gaze to hers. 'I wanted to stay. I just didn't think that would be the best way for her to find us. We should probably at least tell her we're together before that happens.'

'You're right,' he sighed, considering what she'd said. Of course she'd been thinking logically about the whole situation. 'We'll tell her, and everyone else, when the time is right.'

Hermione nodded, and he wound an arm around her waist, pulling her against him. He dipped his head to nestle in her curls and breathed in his scent, his eyes closing as she nuzzled her face into his chest. His own hair tickled his cheeks, and a though sprang to mind.

'Actually,' he murmered. 'I wanted to ask you something else.'

'Oh?' She looked up at him, carefully controlling her tone, but he still heard it a little of the apprehension in her voice and continued quickly.

'I was wondering if you might cut my hair for me? It's an absolute mess, but I can't ask Mum right now. I ... she ...' he tailed off.

'I'll do it.' She watched as he struggled with his emotions briefly, then he pushed a watery smile onto his face. This time, at least, he knew that it reached his eyes.

'Thanks, Hermione.'

'You'll have to give me a little time to research though,' she said, and his smile turned into a grin. 'I'm serious, Ronald! I love your hair, and I don't want to mess it up. Give me the morning to read up a bit, and we'll do it this afternoon. OK?'

'OK. But only because you said you love my hair,' he chuckled, then bent to kiss her gently before releasing her and leaving the room so that she could get ready for the day.

'Well damn, that's not half bad!' Ron stepped away from the mirror in his bedroom and grinned at her.

'Really? You're not just being nice?' Her critical eye roamed over his hair. 'Turn around for me again.' He complied, and she scrutinised her work.

'It's bloody brilliant!' He ran a hand through the strands and shook his head, then smiled at her again. 'You're definitely cutting my hair from now on.'

'Well, I did read a couple of books,' she murmered, and reached up to run her own fingers through his hair. He bit back the grin that tried to push its way onto his face as her lips pursed in disapproval. The perfectionist in her always made it hard for her to know when to stop. 'Sit down for me again, I just want to make absolutely sure.'

'Hermione, I swear, it's great,' he protested, but knowing that this was an argument he would lose, he sat down anyway. She stepped closer to him, and he opened his legs wider to accommodate her standing between them, studiously ignoring the thrill it sent through him as her thighs brushed his. But Hermione didn't seem to notice. She was looking down at his hair again, and he knew that she was mentally chastising herself for her internal criticism. She had cut his hair in a slightly choppy fashion, taking a lot of the length away but leaving him enough to do something with it. He was also secretly pleased that she'd left enough for her to be able to pull, something he hadn't realised he liked so much until she'd done it last night. He tried to stop his mind drifting back to what they'd done as she pushed her fingers through his hair and watched it fall back into place.

'And you're absolutely sure you like it?' she asked nervously, chewing her lower lip. She moved to brush through it again, but gasped when she felt his hands. Watching her teeth sink into her lip had made them raise almost of their own accord to trace gently up the backs of her bare legs, just under the hem of her skirt. His heart was in his mouth as his fingertips grazed the insides of her thighs very softly, and she apparently inadvertently tugged at the fist-fulls of hair that she held.

'Do that again and you'll see just how much I like it.' His voice was low, husky. She looked down at him, and he felt that same strange hunger that he'd felt the day before. He watched her debating with herself, wondering what she would do, if this was too much, but then she took a deep breath and tugged at his hair again, this time a little harder. He growled, his hands tightening around her legs, and he pulled, parting her knees and sliding her into his lap to straddle him. She gasped, then bit back a soft noise when he immediately latched onto her neck, his tongue flicking along her throat. His hands gripped her buttocks and pulled her tight against him, and he could feel his arousal rubbing between her legs as he desperately sought friction.

'R-Ron, you're covered in hair,' she moaned feebly as he rocked her against him. Her head fell back as his mouth moved lower, sucking at her collar bone, but she still tried to push him away. 'Ron ...'

He grunted in mild annoyance, but broke their contact to reach over his head and tug his shirt off, tossing it behind him. Her hands skated across his bare shoulders, eyes scanning his torso. She traced his splinching scar gently, that slight crease between her brows again, and he was about to ask her what she was thinking when she shuffled off his lap and stood up decisively, ignoring his protests and grasping hands.

He soon fell still and silent when her fingers gripped the hem of her shirt, transfixed by the possibility of seeing her bare chest. He realised that although he'd been topless in front of her plenty of times, he'd never really seen a whole lot of her torso. She always seemed to be dressed quite conservatively. Not that he minded. Hell, he'd been bloody grateful of the fact when he'd started having ... feelings about her. It would have been much harder to control himself had he not had to rely solely on his imagination for what exactly lay beneath her school jumper.

He swallowed hard and kept his eyes resolutely fixed on hers as she raised the shirt up, exposing more of her milky flesh than he'd ever seen. He stopped breathing as more and more of her was bared to him, and he realised that she hadn't worn a bra that day. Only when she'd pulled her hair free of the shirt and thrown it behind him did he allow himself to break eye contact. His eyes skimmed slowly over her body, her small breasts, her erect nipples. She had literally taken his breath away. She was absolutely stunning, her skin unbelievably perfect. He wanted to touch every last inch, to taste every centimetre of exposed flesh. He was just starting to count the small freckles that littered her sternum when he saw her shift nervously, and realised that he hadn't moved a muscle since she'd started undressing.

Suddenly, he was on her. His momentum carried her staggering back against the wall behind her. His body pinned her there, and he felt electricity course through him wherever their bare skin touched. He could feel her trembling. She looked up into his eyes, and he was surprised and thrilled by the desire that he saw there.

'You're beautiful, Hermione,' he said softly. Tears welled up in her eyes, and he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. But he forced himself to stop, to straighten again. 'I need to know how far you want this to go. Because if we keep going, I don't know that I'll be able to stop myself from going a lot further than we did last night,' he panted, and had to swallow the groan that threatened to leave him as she shivered in his arms.

'I don't want you to stop. I didn't last night, and I don't now,' she whispered, and this time he released his groan as he dipped his head again, his lips catching hers. His hands slid down her sides and under her pert arse, and he hitched her up. He thought he felt her back scrape against the wall, but she didn't seem to register it. He thought about stopping, to ask her is she was alright, but her legs wound around his waist and she let the wall take most of her weight as he leaned into her. Their mouths melded together, his tongue dancing with hers. He rolled his hips against her, and the friction caused her to gasp. He growled in response and pulled her away from the wall, turning them around to drop her gently on the bed. She bounced briefly, and her eyelids drooped slightly as she watched him climb on after her, his own eyes drinking her in. Before he could get closer, she reached down and pushed her skirt lower, over her hips, down her legs and kicked it off the bed.

'Gods, 'Mione,' he murmered. Her breath caught in her throat and she blinked. He sat back slightly, concerned. 'What? What is it?'

'N-nothing,' she hiccuped, rubbing her eyes fiercely with the back of her hand. 'It was just ... the way you said my name ... '

He cursed himself internally. He should have been paying more attention to what he was saying. That way, he might have caught the nickname he'd used in his fantasies of her for years before it tumbled from him. He hoped she wouldn't notice how red his ears were, prayed she wouldn't push for an explanation as he said, 'Sorry, was that too much? It just kind of slipped out.'

'No!' She sat up too, blinking fresh tears out of her eyes. 'Don't apologise, I'm sorry, it just took me by surprise. It sounded so much like ... Ron, do you remember when you were poisoned? In 6th year?'

'Sure?' he said slowly, his face apprehensive.

'Do you, um, remember anything? From when you were in the hospital wing?'

'No, but I'm not sure I like where this is going.' His heart was pounding, worry coursing through him, and Hermione grabbed his hand in hers.

'While you were unconscious, you ... nobody ever told you this? You said my name.'

'Oh. Oh, Gods.' H felt his face going pale, and his hand in hers trembled. 'No, nobody told me. But now some things make a bit more sense.' He sighed and used his free hand to rub at his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose for a while, and she sat silently, waiting for him to speak again. Finally, he raised his head and looked at her with interest. 'Wait, why did you bring this up now?'

'Oh, right, sorry. It was just, the name you used earlier reminded me of that and ... um ...'

'Go on.' His grip tightened on her fingers. 'Please.'

'Well ... that was the first time I ever hoped that there was ...' She waved her free hand in the air, searching for a word, but only managed to find 'more.'

'More?' His gaze was locked on her so intently now, but he couldn't look away. She seemed a little unsure for a moment, then looked at him with that resolve once more.

'More to ... us. That maybe the way I felt for you wasn't as completely one-sided as I believed. That maybe one day you'd have a nickname for me that you'd call me freely, that there even was a one day. And I played that moment over and over in my head so many times, especially when you had left us in the forest, and the way you said my name then was so similar to the way you said it just now and, I don't know, I guess I just realised how long I've waited for this ...' She trailed off, looking down at where their hands were still twined together, resting on his thigh. He was suddenly very aware that she was sat in front of him, in nothing but a pair of lacy lilac knickers, baring her soul to him.

'Bloody hell,' he murmered, and he dropped her hand to wrap his strong arms around her, pulling her tight against him. She sank into his body, her nose pressed against his neck, arms tight around his waist. 'I really was an idiot.'

'Makes two of us,' she sighed, leaning away to smile weakly at him. He released one of his hands from behind her and brought it up to cup her cheek, his gaze boring into her.

'No more,' he said. 'From now on, just the truth. Agreed?'

'Yes,' she breathed, her smile stronger now. He let her go and she sat back down on the bed opposite him. Suddenly unable to maintain his composure, his eyes fell to her chest again.

'Gorgeous,' he murmered, and a light blush crept into her cheeks. He looked into her eyes again. 'Can I touch you?'

'Please.' There was a slightly desperare note to her voice that made him go hot all over, and his jeans felt suddenly far too tight. His long, freckled hands rose, and he placed them gently on her shoulders. With the tips of his fingers, he traced delicate patterns down across her collarbone, determined to touch as much of her as he could. The patterns dipped lower, skirting the top of her breasts and skimming down the sides of her ribcage. They wove along her sternum, and his knuckles brushed the underside of her breasts. He bit his tongue to stop himself moaning out loud as he felt her forcing herself to sit still as his thumbs met between her breasts. He cupped one in each hand and squeezed gently.

'Perfect,' he rasped. His thumbs moved over the soft flesh and grazed against her nipples, and he felt himself throb as she let out the most delicious little whine, her eyes flickering closed and her back arching so that she pressed her breasts further into his hands. He squeezed them again, a little harder this time, and his thumbs brushed one way across her nipples, then back. Hermione's breathing increased, and he watched as she forced her eyes open to look at him once more. 'So beautiful,' he murmered, his hands travelling up her body and into her hair. He leaned forward and pressed his lips hard to hers, passion igniting between them.

She bit into his lower lip gently. He snarled at her and reached down to grab her legs, tipping her back onto the bed as he pulled her thighs high around his waist. She hardly had time to catch her breath before his torso was pressed to hers, his lips and tongue exploring her mouth hungrily. One hand returned to tangle in her hair, while the other slid up her side and began to stroke her breast again, his fingers gently twisting her nipple. He rolled his hips, pressing his erection against her centre, and she broke their kiss to cry out, overwhelmed with the lust tearing through her. He took the opportunity to move down her body, and his mouth fastened around one of her nipples, then the other, his tongue flicking against the hardened buds. She wound her fingers into his hair as her body thrashed beneath him until she tugged, breaking him away from her chest.

'Ron, I need you,' she panted, her eyes burning with such raw lust that he was almost staggered for a moment.

''Mione,' he breathed, and she shivered with pleasure at the sound. He dropped his head and kissed between her breasts, then her sternum, her stomach, her hip bone, across her navel to her other hip, and finally he placed a firm kiss on her mound. His fingers snaked up her legs to her knickers, and he wrapped his hands around the elastic. He stopped, looking at her, waiting, just as he had the night before. She nodded, and he pulled her last article of clothing down her legs and off her feet. His hands followed their previous path up the outside of her knees, then danced inwards, up her inner thighs, to her folds. He stroked her outer lips gently, and she moaned at the feeling, raising herself up onto her elbows so that she could see him better. He caught her eye and grinned.

'Gods, if you only knew the amount of times I imagined being in this exact position,' he chuckled, his fingers still teasing her softly. 'There were so many days in school, and here, too, that I had to take myself away and, you know, see to myself. Usually after we'd had a row,' he admitted, laughing at the memories and how easy it was to share this with her.

'Honestly, me too.' His movements stopped and he raised his eyes to meet hers, trying to keep a leash on the need that coursed through him at her words. The very idea of her touching herself when thinking of him made his mind turn to mush.

'Would you ... would you show me? How you would touch yourself, I mean. I want to see how you like it.' His pulse pounded in her ears. He knew it was a lot to ask, but he wanted to be sure that he was doing everything he could to give her the pleasure that she deserved. He held his breath as she mentally fought with the idea for a few more seconds, then nodded. He sat back to give her space, and settled at the edge of the bed, watching her.

Slowly, she raised shaking hands to her chest, and allowed her fingers to dance across her breasts, similar to how his had just minutes ago. She tickled around her areolas, then pinched her nipples between forefingers and thumbs. She twisted and pulled, apparently a lot harder than he had, her back arching off the bed. He let slip a soft 'fuck', and found his hand travelling downwards to grip at the evident bulge of his cock through his jeans, needing to ease his own desire slightly in any way. He bit into his lower lip as her eyes followed the path of his hand and rested there. She licked her lips at the sight, and he swore again, clutching himself harder. She smiled slightly, then returned her attention to her own body.

One hand remained at her breasts, dancing between the two, pinching and squeezing all the while. Her other hand trailed down her body to her core, where she teased her outer folds for a while. When her breathing had turned into panting, she dipped two fingers in, sighing at the sensation. She slowly ran the fingers up and down her wet slit, teasing herself, avoiding her clit until she could no longer contain the need for more. Her fingers pressed the bundle of nerves and she gasped. His name hissed from between her lips, and he released a faint groan as he pulled open his fly and grasped his own member. It was too erotic, watching her touch herself like this and knowing that she was thinking of him. Fuck, just how many times had they been under the same roof, touching themselves while thinking of each other? The thought made him pulse, and he stroked himself faster, harder, as her hand between her legs moved again.

Her fingertips made tight circles against her clit, and her other hand left her breasts to join the first at her pussy. He watched as she reached lower, scared to blink in case he missed anything at all. One finger circled her hole before plunging in. Her back arched and she whined, 'Oh, yes, Ron!' before adding a second finger to her tight core. She set a regular rhythm, grinding her hips against herself and murmering his name as she allowed fantasies of them together to flow through her mind. His head swam as he watched her pleasuring herself, and he fought the urge to join in, to take over. But soon, too soon, he felt the familiar pull behind his navel, and then he was cumming, gripping himself tight and gasping as she choked out his name one last time. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she jerked and twitched, continuing to stimulate her clit, prolonging the sensation until she became too sensitive and had to release herself, falling back against the mattress.

His head swam with the force of his orgasm as he watched her come down. She seemed to be taking mental stock of where she was, then of her body. A light blush rose n her cheeks as her breathing slowly returned to normal. Then, cautiously, she looked down at herself. He followed her gaze. Her attention seemed focused on the liquid covering her legs, stomach and chest. Her eyes slowly moved down her body to her feet, to his knees, then upwards, and she blushed. The fly of the jeans was still pulled wide, and to where his hand was gripping his still-hard, pulsing cock. As they watched, a bead of his cum dripped from the slit in his head and fell onto her left foot. She gulped and tore her eyes away from the shaft, her gaze traveling up his body, over his flushed torso, up his long neck and finally, finally, to his face. His eyes locked with hers, and he knew that his expression was a strange mixture of lust and embarrassment.

'I'm sorry.' His voice seemed too loud in the total silence. 'That was just ... so fucking hot ... so much better than I ever imagined. And I imagined seeing that a lot.' At this, she giggled, and let her head fall back into his pillows. He relaxed at the sound and began discarding the remainder of his clothing and subtly whispering cleaning spells over her. And then he was laying beside her, cuddling into her side, his hand painting lazy patterns over her lower stomach. She rolled onto her side to face him, and he couldn't help staring at her.

'Thank you,' he murmered. She raised a questioning eyebrow at him. 'For showing that to me. You're very fucking sexy, you know that?' She laughed softly and slapped his chest, but it was a gentle hit and he grinned at her. 'I'm serious! You were always hot in my fantasies but bloody hell, if only 14-year-old me knew how far away from the reality it was, he'd never have been able to be near you again without cumming in his pants.'

'Ronald,' she sighed, rolling her eyes at him, but she didn't get any further with chastising him. He placed one hand on her hip and flipped her onto her back again, moving quickly to settle himself between her legs. She moaned softly when his naked shaft slid against her slit, then again when she felt it pulse and begin to grow again.

'Merlin, I want you so badly.' He locked eyes with her as he reached up to brush her curls away from her face, and she trembled under him.

'Then take me,' she breathed.

'But I know that it's going to hurt you,' he murmered, fear and worry flooding him, paralysing him.

'It will,' she whispered, but her face was set. 'But it won't hurt for long.'

'This is really hard though, 'Mione. I've hurt you enough in the past. I want this, and if you want this too then we'll do it, but I need you to tell me if it's too much. I need you to tell me what to do. OK?'

'I will. Please, Ron.' There was still some reluctance, but so much determination and trust was shining in her eyes that he found himself nodding, kissing her quickly before raising himself slightly to reach between them and position himself at her entrance. He stopped there, still unsure, but she wrapped her legs around his waist, and her heels dug gently into his buttocks, pushing him forward. He gasped, his eyes widening as he sank into her, feeling her stretching around him. Then he reached some sort of barrier inside her, and he stopped.

'Ronald.' He blinked at her, feeling dazed, shocked and turned on all at once. 'I need you to do the last bit. Do it quickly. But once you're ... in, can you ... can you wait?'

'Only if you're sure,' he grunted, scanning her eyes one last time for any fear, any doubt. But he saw none.

'I'm sure. I want this, Ron. I want it to be you. It was always going to be you.'

'I love you.' His voice was surprisinly thick with emotion and desire, and he saw her eyes soften slightly in response.

'I love you. Please, now.'

He dropped his head to her neck, and he gripped the sheets on either side of her torso. He could feel her trying to relax, knowing it would make things easier, but before he could think of anything more that might stop him, he pressed forwards. He felt something inside her give way with a pop, and she gasped. The way she stilled under him told him enough, and his heart broke. She was in pain, and it was his doing. He immediately began to stroke her hair with one hand, holding her clsoe with the other, pressing kisses against every inch of her that he could reach without moving too much. He heard himself whispering, 'I'm sorry, Love, I'm sorry. You're OK, I've got you. I'm so sorry.'

'I'm fine,' he heard her say finally, and he raised his head to look at her, careful not to move his lower body.

'Are you sure?' His voice was full of tension, and he noticed that he was shaking as he scanned her expression carefully. She gave him a small smile, and his heart stopped skipping beats.

'Yes, Ron. You can move now.'

'I ... I don't ...' He frowned harder, unable to form the words, but thankfully she seemed to understand that he couldn't bring himself to make another movement that might possibly hurt her. Without warning, she firmly rolled her hips against him. He gritted his teeth in an effort to retain control of himself, sucking in a breath through them with a hiss, his eyes rolling into his head at the sensation. She repeated the motion, and his gaze snapped back to hers. 'Fuck, that's good,' he growled, and pulled out of her slightly. He was surprised by how desperate this made him feel, and he couldn't stop himself from returning quickly, filling her again, needing to be buried deep inside her.

'More,' she whimpered, and he growled again and repeated the motion. Once, twice, three times he pulled slightly out and back in, before she suddenly unhooked her ankles from around his waist. His movement was suddenly unrestricted and he slid further out, almost all of the way. This time before returning, he paused and looked down at her, waiting. 'Please,' she begged, and he groaned.

'Better than I ever dreamed, hearing you say that,' he sighed, dropping his head to her neck again. This time when he drove into her, she gasped with pleasure.

'Again,' she pleaded.

'Fuck, woman, anything you want.' And he knew he meant it. For as long as she'd have him, she could ask him to do anything at all, and it would be hers. He would be hers.

He set a slow pace, entering her over and over with long, languid strokes. The more she relaxed, the deeper he seemed to reach. Soon they were both panting, and she was clutching at his back, holding on for dear life as he played with her body. One hand was planted against her lower back, tilting her pelvis slightly, causing him to graze against different nerve endings both on the inside and outside of her body with each thrust. His other hand carressed her breast, flicking over her taut nipple, while his tongue traversed her throat, occasionally making way for his teeth to nip at the soft flesh. Her body began to feel tense, like a string inside her was being wound tighter and tighter, and it just needed a little more to snap.

'Faster,' she panted, and he whined against her throat as he complied, ploughing into her. She cried out each time he bottomed out, his skin grazing her clit, and as she tighened around him, he began to tremble in her arms.

'Oh fuck ... gonna ... nnng ... 'Mio ... neeee ...' He thrust erratically into her with each word, and the change of pace was enough to tip her over the edge. She came hard, contracting so tightly around him that he couldn't hold back his yelp of 'Bloo-dy f-f-fuck!' as they rode through their orgasms together, holding each other almost impossibly close. Finally, he felt her body release, and she sank back into the bed under him, holding him to her as they caught their breath. She swallowed hard when he kissed her shoulder, then sighed shakily as he carefully pulled out of her before collapsing next to her. She turned her head to look at him, and he peered at her through heavily lidded eyes. Her face was relaxed, calm, a small smile starting to spread into a grin. She lifted her fingers to stroke his lips, and he caught her hand in his, pressing her palm to his mouth and kissing it soundly.

'Bloody brilliant, you are,' he mumbled hoarsley, and began to grin too.

'Not so bad yourself, Mr Weasley,' she chuckled. 'And much better than I ever imagined, too.'

'Oh really?' His arm snaked around her waist and pulled her against him, sinking a soft kiss against her lips. 'Well, seeing as neither of us have anywhere to be, why don't you tell me a bit more about what you have imagined?'