Characters: Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley
Time Frame: Hogwarts era, sixth year.
Summary: "Hermione's arms were wrapped lazily around Ron's neck, and she leaned in towards him, bringing their lips to rest merely inches apart." —— A one shot that is set during Ron and Hermione's sixth year at Hogwarts. Both are prefects, and irrevocably infatuated with one another.
Notes: I always appreciate and adore feedback from readers. (: Remember, though, this is a ONE-SHOT. Happy reading!
Thunder exploded throughout the sky, which was immersed in a threatening blanket of heavy black clouds, slowly rotating in multiple clusters high above Hogwarts School.
Similar to an explosion, Nature cracked her whip, enraged; and then lit up the darkness with a single, rickety bolt of light; which descended from the thick mass above for merely a fraction of a second, illuminated the vast school grounds, and then disappeared.
If anyone was awake at this very moment, and had his or her nose pressed against the glass of any window facing the Forbidden Forest, they might, just might, be able to decipher the two figures out in the storm.
Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger sprinted through the downpour, keeping their heads down to better shield their faces from the whipping winds and stinging droplets; and holding their cloaks up above their heads in a feeble attempt to keep themselves dry. It was a lost cause, though, for both boy and girl were already soaked to the skin.
Ron heaved one of the towering Oak doors open once they reached the castle, creating a gap just large enough to accommodate them inside, allowed her to pass him, and then quickly followed. He made sure to quickly pull the door closed behind him.
In an uncontrollable reaction from the cold water that drenched her skin, Hermione found herself gently shaking, her teeth clattering inside of her jaw.
Ron approached her earnestly, placing the palms of his hands against her upper arms, and rubbing them quickly in an attempt to create a friction of some sort against her sopping clothes. Hermione smiled, appreciating the gesture, all the same, despite it's nonexistent results.
Over the span of a few seconds, neither spoke. Finally, Hermione placed her hand on Ron's wrist, ceasing his movement, and allowed a small smile to outline her features.
"You're skin is so cold," she commented quietly as their frozen skin met.
Before the boy could respond, Hermione spoke up once more, "I want to help." Her voice was innocent and soft, but ever so seductive that it caused Ron to melt like putty in her hands.
Silence fell over the pair as they crept out of the Great Hall, and began to ascend up the great marble staircase. Hermione kept two on Ron's fingers in a loose grasp as she led him up the many, magical staircases to come.
Covertly, they crept throughout the labyrinth of corridors at a jog; and around each corner, the potential of running into a staff member, or worse, the school's nuisance of a Poltergeist, caused their hearts to skip a beat. For surely, being caught wandering the halls at three in the morning, looking as if they had just returned from a tsunami, would cost Gryffindor many points.
"Hermione," Ron whispered, reaching out his free hand and brushing the tips of his fingers against the top of the hand she used to hold his fingers, "where are you taking me?"
She did not respond, or even glance back at him. Instead, Hermione grinned to herself, continuing up the final flight of stairs without missing a step. At last, they stood on the brink of the fifth floor.
"Now," Hermione whispered, turning around to face Ron, walking slowly backwards as she did, "I have a surprise for you."
Ron beamed, his eyes staring into those of the pretty girl who held both of his hands. The two paused just outside of a large door. Hermione slowly closed the distance between them, backing Ron up against the hard door as she did.
Ron licked his lips nervously, and then pursed them in anticipation. Hermione smiled sweetly at him, cocked her head to the left, and situated her feet so that they were between his. Hermione pushed her hips forward, so that rested atop Ron's with subtle pressure.
Hermione's arms were wrapped lazily around Ron's neck, and she leaned in towards him, bringing their lips to rest merely inches apart.
Again, a small smile fluttered across Hermione's face, and a soft chuckle fell from her parted lips as she gazed into Ron's emerald eyes. Hermione's expression, with a diverged gaze towards Ron's lips, was suddenly swept clean of joy and replaced with a deep pensive.
Hermione shifted onto her toes, reaching up and pressing her lips against his.
The boy's heart leapt.
Even though it lasted just seconds, Hermione's touch created a feeling inside of Ron that, he was positive, came close to pure bliss.
Hermione lowered her lips towards Ron's neck, delivering silky pecks against his skin as she moved nearer and nearer to his collarbone. And with a husky sigh, Hermione whispered a brief phrase against Ron's skin, although he had not comprehended her words.
Immediately pending Hermione's speech, the locked door behind Ron clicked open.
Hermione pulled away from Ron, stepped away so that she was beside him, and delicately opened the, now unlocked, door to the Prefect's Bathroom. The two slipped inside, closing the heavy door behind them like a feather.
Ron stood very close to Hermione, looking down at her oval-shaped face— which was nothing less than perfection in his eyes.
Reaching out and taking a hold of the deadbolt on the back of the door, he proceeded to slide it into place.
Taking a step forward, so that his body was pressed up against her, Ron placed one hand on Hermione's lower back, and cupped her cheek with the other. Hermione bit down on her lip very gently, a movement that Ron knew to be her instinct, but was very sexy all the same.
"You're beautiful, Hermione Granger, you do know that, right?" Ron's gaze flickered about her face as he whispered, watching her reaction; the way that her face glowed with delight, but her modesty created a rosy tint in the apple of her cheeks.
Ron swooped down and kissed her once again, although this time the two did not part so quickly. Hermione followed Ron's movements compassionately, parting her lips after a few moments, as to allow their kiss to escalate with the entrance of Ron's tongue into her warm mouth.
The two began to fumble deeper into the vast room, which was crafted entirely out of the purest white marble, and polished to such perfection that you could almost see your reflection in the walls. Although, Ron and Hermione had their sights on the room's main feature: the large, sunken bathtub lined with hundreds of taps, which they knew poured fragrance soaps of every kind.
Hermione kicked her foot out against the nearest tap, and heard as a dozen or so jets of water began to dispense into the great, rounded tub.
Ron kissed Hermione passionately, his hands wrapped down around her waist, holding her close against his pelvis. Hermione was holding on to Ron's sides, and her fingers were sensually brushing against his skin through the material of his shirt. Seductively, Hermione emitted a very soft moan into the midst of their kiss.
Ron nearly lost it.
Breaking their kiss, he took a hold of the hem of Hermione's shirt, and as she lifted her arms into the air, he hastily drew it up and off.
The ebony garment soon lay forgotten on the ground at their feet.