Hermione's head hurt. She tried to focus on the papers on the table in front on her, but the words kept swimming in and out of view. She knew that she needed to complete the report by Monday; she just couldn't find it in herself to concentrate.

The four of them had been living at Grimmauld Place for almost 6 months now. Hermione had been amazed by the work that Ron and Harry had put into the house, into updating its decor and making it a much more pleasant place to live. She had immediately felt at home, and hadn't even given Ron the time to question whether they would be sharing a room within the property, as she had headed straight to the bedroom he indicated as his and started unpacking her things.

The room was beautiful, decorated in soft teals and dark wooden furniture, and the bed was large and luxurious and incredibly sturdy, as she and Ron had wasted no time in finding out. The rest of the house had been painted in neutral beiges and creams, with thick comfortable red carpets throughout the upstairs and freshly polished hard-wood floors on the lower level. The whole house was comfortable, cosy, welcoming.

But despite the serenity of their environment, both she and Ginny had been finding it progressively harder whenever Harry and Ron were away for Auror missions. While they waited for the boys to return, Hermione had taken to following Ginny around as she floated through the house aimlessly, and in turn Hermione had become accustomed to Ginny plonking down next to her on the plush purple sofa in the large living room whenever she tried to distract herself with her work on reforming the Magical Creatures statutes and laws.

She was re-writing every law with up-to-date knowledge and guidance, and it was an enormous project that was taking up an awful lot of her time. These days, Ginny seemed willing to listen to her talk through her ideas for hours on end, and Hermione would even ask her about the latest Quidditch match that she was writing an article on, both of them desperate for anything to filled the silence that seemed to ring out too loudly whenever the guys were away.

This time, however, the girls were a little more on edge than usual. Ron and Harry had been out on their mission for four days now, and they hadn't received any communication in that time. They hadn't been able to tell anyone how long they would be away, but as they'd said their goodbyes, Ron had seemed optomistic that it wouldn't be too long.

They had been a lot more secretive about this mission than they had been about others. And though she and Ginny had been accepting and understanding of this, her curious mind was making it hard for her to not march over to the Auror department at the Ministry and camp out in Robards' office until the man told her where her boyfriend and best friend were.

Ginny, too, seemed a little more on edge, and much to Kreacher's dismay she had taken to straightening and tidying every room that she drifted into on her endless laps around the house. The tension in Grimmauld Place was almost thick enough to feel, and she and Ginny spent more and more time in the living room, sitting by the fireplace and trying to pretend that they weren't just waiting.

It was the fourth evening of the boys being away when they finally got the news they had been waiting so anxiously for. Hermione was in the living room, as per habit, and Ginny had just left to put the kettle on for the fifth time that evening. Hermione had been frowning at a particularly difficult passage in an ancient legal document about werewolves when she heard Ginny's gasp, followed by the smash of something falling against the kitchen tiles. Hermione was on her feet in a heartbeat, tearing her wand from the bun in her hair as she raced through the hall and hurtled into the kitchen.

Ginny stood in the middle of the room, the remnants of a mug spread around her feet. Her back was to Hermione, and it didn't take her long to spot the source of the girl's surprise. In front of Ginny, a small sphere of blue-white light hovered. Even as she crept closer, the light morphed into an elongated shape, stretching and changing until a brilliant, glistening stag stood in front of them. Ginny made a strangled sound, half-sob and half-laugh, and gripped Hermione's hand tightly as the stag spoke in a familiar voice.

'Hello, ladies!' Harry James Potter's cheerful tones flowed from within the Patronus, and Hermione swallowed against the lump in her throat that rose as he talked. If he was that chirpy, it had to mean that they were both alright. 'Hope you're not going too nuts without us! Just letting you know that we'll be back tonight, hopefully around ten.'

The stag turned its head slighty, and Hermione held her breath as it pointed its nose directly at her. ''Mi, he'll kill me for telling you, but I can't not. Ron got hurt while we were out this time. He's absolutely fine, and he's been put back together good as new by the Field Healers, but he's going to need a couple of days' rest.' Hermione's heart lurched at the words, and Ginny squeezed her hand again as the stag shifted to face them both once more. 'Can't wait to be home, girls. It's been a long one. See you soon!'

The Patronus slowly disapated, and Ginny let out a heavy breath, wiping at her sparkling brown eyes as she gave Hermione a shaky smile. 'They're coming home!'

'Thank Merlin,' she breathed, trying her best to reflect her friend's smile.

'Hey,' Ginny said softly, wrapping her arms around Hermione and pulling her into a hug. 'He's fine. Harry said he's been healed.' The redhead pulled back and gave her a toothy grin that held echoes of all of her brothers' smiles in one expression. 'You've now got the enviable task of making him sit still for a few days.'

'Oh God,' Hermione laughed, shaking her head as she considered the upcoming arguments.

'C'mon,' Ginny said, suddenly more energised than Hermione had seen her for days. She pulled out her wand and waved it at the smashed mug on the floor, and in seconds it had put itself back together and jumped up onto the counter. 'It's 9.30 now, they'll be home in 30 minutes. Let's make them something to eat!'

She watched as Ginny almost skipped away towards the fridge, and she wondered how much of her friend's sudden desire to cook was fueled by nervous energy. As she took the ingredients Ginny handed her, she found herself grateful for something practical to be doing as the realisation hit her fully. Ron was coming home. He was coming back to her. As she made her way to the cooker, she felt as though she could breathe easier than she'd been able to all week.

They didn't prepare anything too complicated, not knowing how hungry the boys would be. Ginny's teeth were almost chattering from her nerves as she blathered away, her hands shaking hard as she whisked eggs in a bowl. Hermione tried to talk to her in soothing tones as she fried bacon, and ended up sending the redhead away to sit at the table while she soaked slices of bread in the egg mixture to fry alongside the bacon.

As the scent of food filled the kitchen, Ginny seemed to slowly calm, her legs jiggling less the longer she sat, but her eyes never left the open kitchen door. It was due to the girl's attentiveness that Hermione knew exactly when the boys returned. She didn't hear the Floo activate, but she watched Ginny straighten, then shoot from her chair towards the hallway.

Harry hadn't even entered the kitchen when Ginny jumped him, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders as she nuzzled her face against his neck. To his credit, Harry managed to keep his balance, and he winked at Hermione over Ginny's shoulder before turning around and heading back towards the stairs. The doorway was soon filled by another figure.

'I'm never going to get used to seeing them like that,' Ron groaned, running a hand over his pale freckled face and giving Hermione a long-suffering look as he walked towards her. But she found that she couldn't share his mirth. Her whole body was tense as she pulled the pan from the heat before turning to stare up at him, and he sighed as he read her expression. 'Alright, go ahead.'

'Tell me how and show me where.' He knew what she was asking immediately. He lifted his left leg and pulled up his jeans far enough that she could see the damage he'd taken. She swallowed her gasp as she took it in. On Ron's shin was what looked like a deep, 4 inch long burn. If she hadn't known any better if she hadn't known every inch of his skin so intimately, she might have thought that the wound had been healing for months now, the skin still pink and shiny but looking dry and well on its way to scarring. Hermione raised her eyes to his, and she could clearly see the apprehension in his gaze.

'We had a lead on where a few Death Eaters might have been hiding out,' he began, his voice quiet, steady. 'We carried out a bust, and found three of them in a house in Knockturn Alley. We had it all planned out, and Harry and I were spearheading the operation. Everything was going fine, until one of them spotted Harry. He freaked out and shot a curse at him as he tried to make a break for it. I jumped in the way - '

'You WHAT?!' Her voice was shrill, choked by her fear, and he chewed on his lower lip momentarily before lowering his leg and stepping towards her.

'I'm fine, 'Mione,' he murmured, raising his hand to brush his knuckles over her cheekbone. 'I promise, I'm fine.' The sob bubbled out from her before she could stop it, and he instantly pulled her into a crushing hug. She buried her face in his shirt, letting herself cry as he ran his fingers through her hair.

'Why w-would you d-do that?' she hiccupped, clinging hard to him, relieved to feel him held against her once more even while horror at his story coursed through her.

'Because he's my friend,' he told her, and she pulled back to glare up at him through the last of her tears. He smiled gently, murmuring, 'There's my girl.'

'Ronald,' she warned through gritted teeth. 'Why?'

'Because I was shielded, and I knew that if I took any damage it would be minimal. I also knew that it would give Harry the chance to immobilise the Death Eater, which he did. It's quite a standard Auror manoeuvre, really.'

'Standard ... ' Hermione gaped at him, feeling her anger rise even as Ron's blue eyes softened and his body shifted to mold tighter to hers, his long fingers tangling gently in her curls. 'If Robards is recommending that his Aurors throw themselves in front of curses as standard practice, then I'm going to have a word with him on Monday about the ethics of his protocols.'

'I don't doubt you would,' he chuckled. She opened her mouth to respond, but instead of her next angry statement all that came out was a surprised squeak as Ron swiftly stooped to pick her up, lifting her onto the countertop behind her. She automatically opened her legs, and he stepped between them, his narrow hips rubbing against the sensitive insides of her thighs and sending a thrill through her whole body. She quickly lost her train of thought as he pressed his lips hungrily to hers.

She sighed into his mouth, opening her lips for his questing tongue, her eyes flickering shut as he grabbed her hips and tugged her closer to the edge of the counter to pull her body flush to his. Her hands wound into his wild mop of red hair as he attacked her lips, then her jaw, before migrating down to latch onto her throat.

'Gods, I missed you,' he breathed against her collarbone. 'I thought about you every day, every night. Wondering what you were doing, what you were eating, if you were sleeping enough. It was driving me nuts. Guess I've just gotten too used to having you on tap again.'

'On tap?' She couldn't help but giggle at his choice of phrase, and he looked into her eyes once more, a lopsided grin spreading across his face.

'Well, yeah. I like having you here when I come home.' His fingers dug into her thighs, his thumbs brushing higher, closer to where she wanted him. 'I like being able to hold you, to touch you, whenever I want.' His eyes darkened further as he murmured, 'I like having you in my bed.'

'Ronald,' she chastised, but the effect was lost when he leaned in to nip at her throat again and she sighed, tilting her head back to give him better access to her neck.

'Yes, Love?' he purred. She could feel him smirking against her skin, but her need for him, her desperation to feel him against her, inside her, made it impossible for her to reprimand him further.

'Gods, please ... '

'Please what?'

'Please touch me,' she breathed. He growled, his eyes dark with desire as he flicked his hand at the kitchen door. It slammed shut, and the slight shimmer in the air told her that he'd locked and silenced the room. Despite the fog of lust settling over her mind, she still managed to raise an eyebrow at him. 'You're getting very good at that.'

'Practice makes perfect,' he quipped, before catching her mouth with his again.

'I've been practicing too,' Hermione whispered against his lips, then twisted her wrist and cast a wordless spell of her own. Ron jumped back slightly and yelped as his clothes disappeared off his body. He looked so comically surprised that she couldn't help laughing.

'Cheeky minx,' Ron grinned, stepping back up to her. Her laugh caught in her chest as he pressed his hard, naked cock against the seam of her leggings, creating a delicious and distracting friction. She quickly twisted her wrist again. Her clothes also disappeared, and as their bare skin met Ron groaned, 'Oh fuck, 'Mione ... '

She wound her arms around his neck and crushed her lips to his, their kisses hot and passionate now. Their hands skimmed over each other's bodies, reacquainting with well-known dips and swells, scars and imperfections. But when Ron's hand made to snake between her thighs, she gripped his wrist to stop him.

'Need you,' she whimpered, arching her back and rolling her hips against his. She watched as his eyes rolled back in his head, and he struggled to focus on her again.

'Love, I -'

'Please, Ron,' she breathed, rocking against him again. She could feel how slick her folds were, the heat of their reunion having reminded her of what she'd been missing these last four days. Not just the physical intimacy, but the closeness, the rightness of him.

'OK, 'Mione, OK,' he murmured, his voice thick with his own need, pressing fleeting kisses to her lips and cheeks. 'If you think you're ready, OK. How do you want it?' She gently but firmly pushed him back, away from her, then hopped down from the counter to the floor. She turned away from him, gripped the countertop in front of her, then looked over her shoulder at him in silent question. His eyes scanned her body, and he let out an almost pained noise as he reached out and grasped her hips. 'Fuck, woman, you're killing me.'

'Please.' She couldn't think of anything else to say at this time, her mind completely blurred by her desire. He slowly placed a string of hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses across her shoulders, his hands skating up the front of her body, long scarred fingers tweaking at her peaked nipples. She rose onto her toes and pressed back, her arse rubbing against him and trapping his shaft against his torso. He swore loudly, and suddenly Hermione felt his open palm fall sharply against her arse.

She gasped as his fingers turned gentle again, rubbing soothing circles against her stinging flesh. He'd never done anything like that to her before, but Hermione felt something in her mind fall into place as the pain translated into pleasure. She filed the discovery away for further consideration as Ron pressed his chest to her back, one of his hands fisting her hair and the other gripping the countertop right beside her own.

'Hold on, Love,' he rumbled in her ear, then lined himself up and slammed into her. She bit into her lower lip to stop the scream that threatened to escape her, her vision turning almost white as pleasure flooded her. He panted in her ear, his body trembling as he held himself back, letting her adjust. But she didn't want him to wait.

She carefully contracted her muscles around him, and he grunted as the sensation snapped his self-control. He tugged her hair hard, arching her back and giving him a better angle as he set up a fast, ruthless pace. She whimpered his name as his hand moved to twine with hers, his hot breath on the back of her neck as it hissed out between his clenched teeth.

'So good,' he ground out. 'Have you missed this, 'Mione? Have you missed me?'

'More than you know,' she told him, surprised by the tears that sprang to her eyes. The aching hole that had opened when he left was slowly closing over, and it felt so good to have him holding her again, to have him filling her again. But he suddenly stopped moving, and she let out a whine as she looked over her shoulder, blinking her tears away to meet his gaze.

He looked pained as he watched her tears roll down her cheeks, and his hand in her hair softened to stroke her curls as he said, 'What -'

'Don't stop,' she begged him, her breath hitching slightly. 'I need ... don't stop ... please -' She cut herself off with a cry as he resumed his punishing pace, her head falling back against his shoulder. He lifted his hand from hers and wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her as close as possible as he pounded into her.

'I love you,' he growled, his teeth grazing the shell of her ear. 'Gods, I love you so much. You're so beautiful. All mine.'

'All yours, Ron. All yours.'

'Cum with me,' he whispered, his fingers leaving her hair to dip between her legs, pressing against her clit. Her knees trembled as her pleasure doubled, and he tightened his hold on her, keeping her upright. His voice was almost gutteral as he snarled, 'Come on, 'Mione. Cum with me now.'

His words were the last straw. She shattered around him, her knuckles almost white on the edge of the countertop as she contracted around him. With a final thrust and her name stuttering from his lips, Ron followed, spilling into her, filling her. He moved until he couldn't anymore, collapsing against her back briefly as he pulled out before sinking to the cold kitchen tiles, taking her down with him. She nestled into his lap and lazily stroked his hair as she enjoyed the lingering buzz of her orgasm.

'So fucking good,' he sighed, and she could hear the grin in his tone. She smiled up at him wanly, and watched as his grin quickly faded.

'You look a bit peaky, Love,' he said, his thumb grazing her cheekbone as he studied her face, his expression uncharacteristically serious. 'Have you been sleeping while I was away?'

'Yes,' she muttered, but even she could hear the hesitation in her voice. His eyes narrowed, and she sighed and continued, 'But I've been having nightmares again.'

'Shit,' he breathed, gathering her to him immediately. 'Shit. I'm sorry, I should have thought -'

'Not your fault,' she slurred, her exhaustion deepening as she breathed in his familiar smell, comforted by the feel of his arms tightening around her. She nuzzled into his neck, her breathing slowing and her eyelids fighting to stay open. She felt him kiss her forehead, and she was jostled briefly as he stood, lifting her with him, but she found it impossible to care about where he was taking them.

The last thing she heard before sleep claimed her was a whispered, 'Love you.'