Summary: Hermione has a late night at the library when she can't get a certain ginger haired boy out of her head. She decides to take steps to help her relax when she can't sleep... One-shot.

WARNING: This story does contain a lemon... don't like, don't read!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's characters... just the lemony lemonade... mmmm.

A/N: This is my very first Fanfic story ever... so please be kind about the reviews... and let me know if I should make this a two-shot?

Chapter One: Insomnia

Hermione sat alone in the dark recess of the restricted section of the library, away from listening ears or prying eyes. Her unruly brown mass of curls was piled high on her head into a French twist, held together by pencils; her stocking clad legs crossed at the ankles, her bright hazel eyes focused intently on the tome in front of her, furrowed in concentration. It was five minutes just past midnight, but she couldn't sleep, so she figured that some light reading would help ease her mind into a hazy state often felt previous to slumber. The library was complete empty, dark and cold, with a slight air of menace about it, but Hermione didn't mind, she was used to it; and to be quite honest what deserted and dark room didn't have a spooky appeal to it? She had read many books in the library, but the restricted section always held more interest for her; the other books just seemed too boring to her and did not help her chronic insomnia… Chronic. She had been coming here for a while.

Honestly, she knew the real reason she couldn't sleep, and it wasn't because she was steadily becoming an insomniac, and it wasn't due to boredom; she could always find something to do, from studying to knitting. No, it was because of the bizarre dreams she had been having; dreams that often centered on an annoying, rude, handsome, wonderfully beautiful ginger haired boy that she could never quite get out of her head. In her dreams Ron would confess his undying love to her at which she would spontaneously combust from surprise, shock, and even lust, into a pile of bright, glittery pink goo… Then she would wake up confused and not a little bit aroused. She had been in love with Ron for quite some time now, but couldn't find the courage to admit it to herself and even less courage to admit it to him. What would he see in her anyway? She was bossy, prudish and an insufferable know-it-all… or so many people called her, and he, despite all his faults, was perfect. But she was young, a teenager, who still suffered from the crippling side-effects of peer pressure and self-consciousness.

She sighed heavily and closed the book she was reading… it wasn't helping her much anyway; she would read a couple of lines before her thoughts drifted back to Ron and she would have to start all over again. She had just read the same paragraph for nearly half an hour now, she noticed as she glanced at her watch… it was half past twelve and she was strangely both exhausted and wide awake. Well, the book obviously wasn't going to help, so she decided to just walk back up to her dormitories, hopefully without getting caught, and try to force her body to get some sleep.

The hallways were deserted, except for the various paintings that hung on the walls, nearly all of their inhabitants slumbering away, and the ever-present and slightly imposing suits of armor that stared out at her in the foreboding darkness, their shields and chain mail that glistening an ethereal silver color in the sparse rays of moonlight. A cold draft blew in from the enormous stone windows, bringing the smells of late fall with it, a mixture of damp leaves and impending snow. Hermione drew ever closer to the painting of the Fat Lady who leaned against her gilded gold frame, snoring lightly, her face tranquil with the soothing calm of sleep… the soothing calm that had been evading Hermione for weeks now. Honestly, she needed to get her act together and either take a Dreamless Drought potion or fess up to Ron. If she continued on this way, her marks might suffer, and that was the very last thing that she ever wanted to happen, especially being the head of her class.

She apologized profusely to the Fat Lady who reprimanded her for being out of her dormitory so late, but mostly just for waking her up; the Lady had never really cared about the whereabouts of students late at night, and even less about their personal lives, so long as it didn't effect her or her lazy existence. The common room was completely deserted, as was expect so late at night, but the fire still crackled ablaze, as always, basking the room in a deep golden glow and provided warmth to everything in it. Hermione trudged past the various couches and chairs, glanced momentarily out at the dark expanses of the school grounds, and made her way slowly up the curved stairwell to her room. She made sure to be quiet as she entered the shadowy room, so as not to wake the other girls. (Lavender and Parvati could be quite bitchy when woken up from their "beauty sleep" as they called it… Hermione had learned that in her first year.) She walked over to her trunk that rested at the end of her bed and unlocked it with a hushed alohamora spell before gathering her things and heading to the lavatory.

The scalding hot water felt so good against her tense back muscles and she stood there, stock-still, for a couple of minutes, letting the therapeutic effects of the water work the kinks from her upper back and shoulders. As she stood comforted by the heat on her weary body, her mind wandered back to Ron, and she couldn't stop the tightening she felt in her lower abdomen, nor the heat between her legs that always accompanied it. She hadn't fantasized about Ron whilst in the shower before, but she found even thinking his name, surrounded by the heat, wet and foggy steam of her shower made the experience more erotic than she felt possible… She also realized the more she thought about him, the harder it was to make the painfully delicious feeling aching in her thighs go away, and she could only conceive one solution to her problem.

She situated herself beneath the near-scorching water, heart pounding at an astounding rate, as her hands traveled from the tips of her soaking wet hair down her slim column of a neck, following the rivulets of water down over her collarbone to her perky breasts. She took one of her already pebbled pink nipples between her fingers and pinched slightly, gasping aloud as it sent an electric shock straight from her breast to her pussy. She felt a new kind of wetness gather between her lower lips, slick and threatening to spill out of her tight young body.

She bit back a moan as she continued the assault on her breast, switching between the two, as her right hand slithered downward over her flat, taught belly, stopping to dip her middle finger into her belly button before moving to tangle in her dripping patch of curls. She moved her feet apart slightly and leaned back against the wall, so that the shower head was directly above her and poured water down her body, before pushing the tip of her forefinger against her small clit and sliding it down her slit.

She couldn't hold in the mewl that formed in her throat and spilled out of her barely parted lips as she pushed a finger into her wet, blazing heat, pumping slowly in and out. She pulled on her nipples and bit her lip as she frantically rubbed her clit with her thumb and fucked herself with her finger, adding another, and yet another until she had three working away at her burning, throbbing tight pussy. She started to cry out little moans of "Oh, oh, oh!" as she abandoned her breasts to finger fuck herself with one hand, pumping in and out as hard as she could, curling her fingers upward towards her G-spot, and furiously rubbing her hardened and swollen clit with the palm of the other.

She knew that she was getting close and began to imagine that it wasn't her fingers inside her, but Ron's erect and eager dick, thrusting hard and deep, filling her up to the point she thought she might lose her mind. She imagined it was his pelvis pushing against her, rubbing her clit, and not the palm of her own hand. She desperately wished it was a mixture of his and her sweat clinging to her skin. She knew that she would only last a few more seconds and began to chant his name.

"Oh Ron, oh oh, fuck me, please," she whimpered softly as she pushed her fingers in as far as they would go and simultaneously pinching her clit gently. "Oh, oh my dear God… OH! FUCK… RON!!! Uh… Agh!"

She relaxed against the shower wall as she rode out her orgasm and let the now cold water bring her temperature down and wash away the fluids that had spilled out over thighs and down her legs. She brought her hand slowly up to her lips and sucked one finger inside.

Doesn't taste too bad, but not really my cup of tea, she thought as she licked the remainder of her cum off her fingers before finishing washing herself down and rinsing beneath the spray.

As she climbed out of the shower she toweled off quickly, as she was started getting cold fast, and slipped into her panties and nightgown, giving herself a quick check in the mirror. Her cheeks were still flushed and her eyes were bright, although she felt tired enough to sleep now. She made her away into the bedroom over to her designated four poster bed and lay beneath the covers, exhausted by her earlier activity, and allowed sleep to claim her.