A/N This is the follow up on Hermione's side of things. This runs parallel to "Ron's obsession". This is the conclusion of this story. There is a short epilogue at the end.
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Disclaimer: you know the drill: not mine
Hermione's hairy obsession
Two more days! Hermione couldn't believe how much she missed him. How unfair it seemed that after so many years of dancing around each other, it was when they finally found each other that they had to be parted again. It had been a difficult decision to make but her heart was set on going back and finish Hogwarts while his was set on becoming an Auror and stay close to his family, especially George. That fierce protectiveness toward his loved ones, including herself, was one reason she had fallen so hard for him. She missed that. She missed his sardonic sense of humour and the way he could make her laugh like no-one else. She missed his colourful language, not that she would ever admit it. And her treacherous body longed for his touch, his kisses. The way he looked at her like she was the most beautiful woman on the planet and there was nobody or nothing else worth his time or breath. She craved his wicked mouth on her, the way it left searing kisses all over her, the way it devoured her body, the way it would whisper her name so lovingly. She missed his exquisite hair, the tickling of it against her skin as he would kiss her breasts. She missed threading her small hands through the silky locks as he drove her to the brink of madness. She had finally got her wish and access to the mane that had fascinated her so much all these years and she had become quite addicted to it. Two more days before she could feel it again. She saw Ginny wave at her impatiently while asking her where she had escaped to. Ginny took one look at the blushing face of her best friend and shook her head. She pronounced Hermione a lost cause when it came to that git that was her brother.
Two days later, Hermione was sorry to have to let Ron go after what had been too brief an encounter. Although they had made the most of it she thought as heat spread through her at the memories of skin against skin, lips against lips, bodies melding together. He had innocently asked why she wasn't wearing her uniform. She was starting to think she had been right about him having a thing for her uniform. She had told him it was Saturday and there was no need to wear it. And it really didn't matter what she wore anyway as he was always trying to get her out of it.
Christmas was here and she was back at her childhood house. It was almost five in the morning. Her parents were sleeping soundly in the room across from hers while she was looking at the ceiling of her bedroom, unable to sleep. She was going to see Ron tonight, go and celebrate Christmas at the Burrow with him and what she thought of as her surrogate family. The scars from the events of the past year were still a bit raw and she expected it would be an emotional Christmas but she wanted to spend time with him. She wondered... of course, he would be asleep in his room at Grimmauld Place. Harry and he had moved there two months ago after ridding the house of the last remnants of the Black family's obsession with the dark arts and blood supremacy. Harry had changed the wards so she, and only she, could Apparate directly in the house. She took a look at her watch: 5:05. Her parents wouldn't wake up for another two hours. She stripped out of her pyjamas and took the bulky dressing gown that she usually wore to lounge around the house in the evening. Too bad her uniform was in the laundry she thought somewhat amused. She could have checked whether her inkling about Ron and her uniform was correct or not. She wondered how he would react. Well, she was completely bare underneath the robe after all and she had only put the dressing gown on because Apparition while naked was not a good idea. She concentrated on her destination, her mind full of his red hair. She saw him reach for his wand as she Apparated into his room. Old habits died hard. As he recognised her, he lowered his wand and gave her one of his lopsided grins. He still looked quite sleepy. Ron wasn't a morning person. She untied the dressing gown and didn't miss the gleam of lust that shone in his eyes. She let the dressing gown hit the floor, leaving her naked, and joined him in the bed. As his arms reached for her greedily and his mouth came crashing on hers, she thought she could make him enjoy early mornings and maybe they could make this a Christmas tradition.
There was something to be said for lounging around naked on Ron's bed. Especially when he was lying next to her, as bare as she was, and looking thoroughly spent. He hadn't asked about her uniform this time as they had met in Hogsmeade. They had just Apparated directly at Grimmauld Place and had worked toward getting out of their clothes as fast as they could. Oh yes, it had been a brilliant idea! He said he was a lazy bloke and she could just do all the work. Ron was fully aware of her bossy streak and seemed to thoroughly enjoy it . She had taken full control, looking at him lovingly, threading her fingers through his exquisite hair, enjoying how silky it felt in her hands. She had then ridden him into complete abandon, reducing him to a babbling and incoherent man. And it hadn't been work. It had been pure enjoyment actually, a nice distraction from NEWT revisions. And there she was lying on her belly, on his bed, reading the Quibbler and feeling his eyes on her. He made her feel treasured, beautiful, powerfully feminine. She sensed his fingers trail lightly along her spine, reaching her bottom in the lightest of caresses. She just sighed in contentment.
Hermione had to admit it: she had a lot of books. She wondered how all of them would fit in what was now her room at Grimmauld Place. She had accepted Harry's offer to move with him and Ron. Harry had been coy about it, saying the location was very convenient to the job at the Ministry she would start in September. She loved Harry to death and truly considered him her brother but the Chosen One couldn't fool her. She knew he mostly wanted her in the house to distract Ron so as to be able to pursue and deepen his relationship with Ginny. She just knew. She had an inkling Ron knew as well, even if he would probably rather snog Kreacher than admit it. Yet, she could not deny the benefits of the offer Harry had made. There was the central London location and the free rent, although she had insisted she wanted to pay Kreacher wages for his services. The best of all however was unfettered access to Ron, all six feet and two inches of him, his lips, his strong and yet gentle hands, his ropey muscles, and his wonderful silky fiery hair. She smiled inwardly as she thought of his hair and the effect it had on her. Right, time to go back to putting her clothes in the wardrobe. After all, it wasn't as if they hadn't enthusiastically celebrated her moving in, most recently just a few hours ago. She returned to putting her clothes in the wardrobe. She found her Hogwarts uniform. Her heart was still too attached to Hogwarts to let go of it. She could feel Ron's gaze on her as she put the uniform in the back of the wardrobe. She heard him sigh ever so lightly. She had never worn the uniform during their monthly encounters over the past ten months, even if she had sometimes thought Ron had a thing for her uniform and her in it. The truth was she could never have obliged whatever Ron most likely had in mind and later wear the same uniform to attend lessons with Professor McGonagall. But her time at Hogwarts was over: she was just going to make sure to keep the uniform in a special place in her wardrobe.
Her heart was swelling with pride although she was holding better than Molly who was unashamedly crying tears of joy as her youngest son officially became an Auror. Hermione had always known Ron was fully capable of realising his ambition of becoming an Auror. He certainly had had enough field experience but it had taken hard work and determination as well and he had done it. It had also instilled confidence in him and quelled some of his old insecurities. He sought her in the crowd and returned her bright smile when he found her.
She thoroughly enjoyed the party at Harry's afterward but she just longed to be alone with Ron to have their own private celebration. The minute they Apparated back in the sitting room of their flat, she reached for him, fisting her hands in his silky ginger hair, and pulling his lips toward her. She took him in a greedy kiss and wasted no time in getting him out of his Auror robes. They never made it past the sofa and just gave in to their raw desire there. Her breathing and heart rate were just returning to a normal pace. She could feel his warm naked body next to her, his hand still resting on her thigh. She was playing with his red locks, twining them between two of her fingers. She had wanted to get him out of his Auror uniform all day, had barely contained herself. It was dawning on her what effect a uniform could have. She still wondered every now and then whether he had harbored a secret fantasy about her Hogwarts uniform. She smiled at him very cheekily as a brilliant and naughty idea came to her. She picked up his robes and put them on. They were grossly over-sized for her but she felt a rush of raw feminine power at seeing the look on his face at the mere suggestion of the fun they would have with his uniform that night.
Bickering? Weren't they past this? Obviously no as Ron could be so pig-headed sometimes. The words flew back and forth. Their breaths hitched. Their voices rose to high pitches and went to cold lows. Her hair was probably getting bushier from all the tension in the room while his still looked its usual: red, silky, and oh so enticing, just begging to be stroked. And then the apex came as he let out an imaginative string of choice curse words and left the kitchen where they had been arguing about something insignificant. She heard the door of their bedroom slam and what sounded like furniture being kicked. She grabbed an empty vase that was lying around on the kitchen counter and threw it energetically against the wall where it shattered into pieces. She then let out a scream of frustration and sat down to count to ten or maybe one hundred.
When she had calmed down -it had taken counting to three hundred and sixty-seven- she cast a repairing charm over the broken vase. She went to their bedroom and opened the door. She saw him standing there. The anger was completely gone from his face and had been replaced by a somewhat guilty look, as if she had caught him in the middle of something. He reached for her at the same time she did for him. They met in the middle of the room and murmured an apology at the same time, before exchanging a tender kiss. He then asked her what the word "boudoir" meant. She chuckled. There was no doubt in her mind he was not asking about the French biscuit. She knew where he had been and why he was looking so sheepish. Had he found her Hogwarts uniform in that special section of her wardrobe? So she told him about the French biscuit and also about the other meaning of the word "boudoir", while asking him to stay out of her wardrobe. He just reached for her, lifted her off her feet and carried her to their bed. They may not be past bickering but they had found a much better way to make up.
Her back was hurting slightly from standing a bit longer than she should have. The baby was kicking up a storm in her swollen belly. She still had to wait two more months to meet her. She tried to imagine what the little being growing in her womb would look like. She had the intuition it was a girl and she imagined her sometimes, riding a broomstick, her thick silky red hair flying behind her. She would have Ron's hair because it had to be that way. Who wouldn't prefer his amazing fiery hair over her bushy ordinary brown one?
She went back to organising the content of her wardrobe. Even if their flat would have been much too small for the two of them and a baby, she must have been half-mad to agree to moving to a new house while being seven months pregnant. Pregnancy did bring things into a different perspective: she tired more easily, had an appetite that could rival Ron's, could go from a state of pure elation to bursting into tears within a single minute. She also couldn't keep her hands off Ron. Not that he seemed to mind, really. If anything, he made her feel even more revered and treasured, she thought as her hands reached for her Hogwarts uniform. She still had it after all these years. She had to get to the bottom of whatever it was he had for that uniform.
She mentioned aloud something about getting rid of it. His response was priceless: an emphatic "no", as if she had threatened to drown a puppy. She asked him what was so special about her uniform. She saw him redden like he hadn't in a few years. She was somewhat entertained she had been right. She pursued and asked if he had been having fantasies, of the sexual kind about her in her uniform. He merely nodded and she prodded further. The floodgate opened and Ron gave her the full story, although she thought he had censored some parts. Words had never been his strong suit. She remained silent for a minute, digesting all of it: he had dreamed of taking her in the Gryffindor common room and the Prefect Bathroom. And he had been creative about it. She knew he would never ever force her to do anything she wouldn't want to do but that wasn't an issue as she was completely game for this little fantasy. It actually sounded like it could be quite enjoyable and regretted not having obtained this information out of him earlier.
She finally told him the truth, that she had had an inkling for a while that he had a thing for her uniform and that's why she kept it in that special section of her wardrobe. She promised him she would oblige that little fantasy of his and she would make it a memorable occasion, once she was able to fit in the uniform again. He just whispered to her that she really was the brightest witch of her age.
She was walking back home. Back to the two people she craved more than anyone in the world: Ron and Rose. Their little Rose, looking so much like him with her beautiful blue eyes and red hair. She had been born with a tuft of ginger hair and it had grown fuller in seven months but it was the same silky and red locks as Ron, albeit curlier. Hermione kept strolling leisurely. She could have Apparated but she enjoyed the walk and the time alone with her thoughts. Somehow, Ron understood this and was the one who had volunteered to stay home with Rose so Hermione could have some alone time. She knew he wasn't making any sacrifice there as he was completely smitten with his daughter. However, the fact Ron understood her needs so well was another reason she loved him. She opened the door and saw them in the kitchen. He was making faces to entertain Rose who was giggling happily. Her heart melted for him all over again as she gave them a tender smile and reached for Rose, showering her with kisses.
As she was holding the baby and starting to think little Rose needed a new nappy, Ron told her about plans he had made for them for the following week. A special evening, just the two of them, with dinner at a posh French restaurant and dancing afterward. He had arranged for Molly to watch Rose for the night. Hermione couldn't believe her ears. He had done all this for her. Just because. She decided the time was right. She asked him in her most coaxing voice whether he remembered her school uniform and that little fantasy of his. She then told him they could see on a variation on that fantasy if he could please change Rose's nappy. The eagerness he showed in tending to this simple request reassured her it was the right decision. She promised herself she would make it a memorable night for both of them.
Epilogue: the end of a memorable evening
He had helped her restoring their bedroom to its original state. She had put her Hogwarts uniform back in her wardrobe. It had been a memorable evening. They had both made sure of it. They were now back in their bed, utterly spent and finally ready to give in to sleep. He had gathered her in his arms like he did every night. She had her head in the crook of his neck like she did every night. He spoke softly in the dark:
"So, what were you fantasising about when you were at Hogwarts?"
"Your hair," she answered truthfully.
"Really?" he asked half-amused, half-incredulous.
"Yes," she replied as she felt herself blushing in the dark.
Ron couldn't see her but smiled inwardly as he was certain she had this pretty blush on her face. He now understood why she was always running her hands in his hair or stroking it. It all made perfect sense.
"I guess you have had time to make good on those fantasies then? Well, it's all yours, my hair. It's always been yours, really."
She gave him a tender kiss and ran her hand through his locks just on principle. She was quiet for a few minutes. He was starting to drift to sleep when she finally asked him:
"Ron, do you still have your Quidditch uniform?"
A/N: Well, this is it. The end. I hope you enjoyed. If you did, please do leave a review. They do make my day!