Remove All Doubt
Hermione Granger tilted her head back and tried to catch the cross breeze that was blowing through the Burrow's stifling living room. Even her best cooling charms were no match for the hottest day England had seen in ages. Hermione normally loved warm weather. The holidays she took with her parents in the South of France always made her relaxed and the sun made her energized. Even her weeks in Australia months before were pleasant after the initial awfulness of explaining to her parents what she did to them and why she did it. But the sweltering humid heat plaguing this August day made Hermione wish she was in a much icier location.
Ron was sitting next to her. He was close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off of him, but far enough that their touch wouldn't cause an instant sweaty mess. She cursed whatever Fates were responsible for her current misfortune. It was the first time in weeks they were alone at The Burrow, or anywhere for that matter, and the heat was making it impossible to do much more than sit languidly on the settee. She was very close to saying damn the heat and pouncing on Ron anyway.
She looked over at him, and a new kind of heat surged through her. They had been dating-no, that wasn't the right word- they had been a couple since the very end of The War. Hermione didn't want to call it dating because it felt like more than that to her, and the way he looked at her left little doubt that he felt the same way. She couldn't resist the quirk of the right side of his lip when he smiled, his deep blue eyes, or the long sinews of his body pressed up against hers. She had known for years she had feelings for him, but after the specter of death and fear were gone from their lives, Hermione Granger had fallen hard.
He returned her scrutiny with a lazy smile, and felt contented. It was worrying her slightly that they had not progressed beyond some light petting, but she put it to the side as nerves. They were three months into an official relationship now, and Hermione's entire body was screaming for him to touch her, hell to take her, if she was being honest with herself. Her face must have given her away, because Ron's own skin was starting to turn red from more than just the heat.
She leaned in and kissed him, chastely at first, but when his hands came up to her waist, his tongue began to brush along her lips carefully. She opened her mouth and deepened their kiss, earning an appreciative moan from him. She tried not to overthink her position as she moved to straddle Ron's lap. They had never moved to this phase in their relationship and she feared if she thought too much about it, her worries of rejection would come to the foreground.
She could feel his hardness through both of their jeans, and she pressed down on him a little harder. Ron's eyes widened and then he threw his head back, echoing her movements with his own. His hands were gripping her hips and Hermione felt a flood of want so strong she wanted to rip his shirt off right there. She grabbed Ron's hand and moved it slowly up her shirt, encouraging him to grab her breasts…to start something she desperately wanted to finish.
Suddenly, Ron's hand froze and she pulled back to gauge his expression. "Ron?"
"Ummmmm. My parents are going to be back soon, why don't we go for a walk?" Ron said, a little shakily.
Hermione's heart fell into her stomach and she tried not to blush as she looked over at the clock and saw his parents weren't due back for hours. They got up and she took his proffered hand. She couldn't meet his eyes. She couldn't help thinking that he didn't want her, that she wasn't good enough. She was glad for the heat, it could distract them in conversation long enough for her to get back to the house and make up an excuse to go home.
She knew she wasn't very pretty, even if someone could get past the hair; there was still her plain face and unremarkable presence. She didn't think her posture looked very appealing either after years of lugging around all of her favourite books. Hermione had accepted this about herself a long time ago, but she still thought she had something to offer.
To think that Ron, the man she chose when the world seemed like it would never be the same, didn't want her shattered the tough façade that carried her through the past few years. The moment she got back to her bedroom, closed the door, folded her clothes and turned off her light, Hermione cried herself to sleep, for the first time since the war ended.
The next morning, Hermione didn't feel any better about her situation with Ron. Her dreams were filled with images of long, freckled and scarred arms, blue eyes, and strong hands. She woke up desperately wanting Ron, and immediately doubting that she'd ever truly have him. It felt like things were ending. Hermione stood from her bed and walked over to her chest of drawers, knowing that she would find nothing in her wardrobe to steel herself from heartbreak.
She walked out of her home intending to walk to the nearest apparation point in her town to head into Diagon Alley for some up to date books. Once she made her purchases, she sat at a nearby coffee shop on the Muggle side and resigned herself to a long day of avoidance and escapism. She tried not to think of Ron, or everything she would miss about being close to him, and focused on the revised Spellman's Syllabry.
When she realized that she had read the same description three times, Hermione slammed the book down and asked for her bill. She had to talk to someone. She had to figure out what was so wrong with her that her boyfriend…her Ron didn't want to be with her.
Hermione found herself at The Burrow, sneaking around corners to make sure Ron didn't notice her, and trying to find Harry alone. She needed a friend, and Harry was the only one who knew them both. She found Harry alone in his room, and took a few deep breaths before barging in and spelling the door behind her.
Harry jumped and drew his wand, a sad reaction to their months of fighting. When he saw it was Hermione, he only looked slightly less alarmed. "Hermione?"
She was prepared to speak to him calmly, and ask him why Ron was pulling away…why she didn't measure up. When the thought struck her, however, she was angry. Harry probably knew the whole time and he never told her that Ron didn't care! Before she could take a few of her trademark calming breaths, she saw only red. She kept raising her hands, attempting to speak, but not finding the words. Finally, she gave up and just walked out of the room.
Harry blocked her way, his eyes wide, and put his hands on her shoulders. Silently, he guided her to a chair and summoned a glass of water. When Hermione felt like she could speak again, she met his eyes.
"I'm sorry Harry…I just…."
"Hermione, you've obviously come in here for a reason. Granted, I'm not sure I want to hear the reason…but what happened?" Harry said, looking more concerned and less alarmed.
"It's not so much what happened as what's happening."
"You're making no sense."
"Harry, why did you and Ginny break up?" Hermione asked. She thought maybe if she had an answer to that question, she might have a slight idea of what was pulling Ron away.
"Hermione, I thought I explained this…we just wanted different things. I still love her, and I always will. Things just weren't the same in the end," Harry answered, looking somewhat resentful.
"Was it sex?" she asked while she still had the nerve.
Harry took a deep breath and then appeared to be choking on air. Hermione patted him on the back swiftly and waited for him to calm down. When he looked up at her, she crossed her arms and waited for his answer.
"I'm not sure I…"
"You're my best friend. I need to talk to someone about this."
He sighed and met her eyes, looking at her a little sadly. "Ginny and I never progressed that far. She wanted to, but I…nevermind."
Hermione felt her heart quicken. She sat down on Harry's bed and began to mentally prepare herself for the inevitable. Ron was going to leave her. She resolved to do it before he could hurt her any worse, but the thought of severing her ties with him broke her heart to even more pieces. She was broken from her thoughts by an urgent tapping on the window.
Harry let in the haughty black owl with a look of anticipation. From her perspective, he looked almost excited. She immediately remembered the first time he kissed Ginny and her mind began to swim. Harry had already moved on. What if Ron wanted to be with someone else?
She got up and left the room, looking back to say goodbye to Harry. He was reading his letter with such rapt attention that he didn't even notice her get up. The look on his face would have been heartening, if Hermione didn't see it as a message of things to come. He folded the letter and mumbled "smug bastard" to himself with a smile on his face before reaching for his quill. Hermione closed the door softly behind her.
Ron put the last box of decoy detonators on the top shelf of the Wheezes storage room before sitting down and conjuring a cool breeze. The weather was still sweltering, and normally he wouldn't be caught dead working on a day like this, but George needed him and Ron was just happy to see George slowly getting back some of his old life. He just wished Decoy Detonators didn't go off so easily around magic, they were bloody heavy.
When he walked back into the main room, he sighed heavily at the setting sun. His entire day was gone, but he hoped Harry was up for a little nighttime quidditch. Now that it was evening, the air outside was almost bearable. He wished Hermione liked Quidditch, but even though she'd be bored, he owled her anyway. He apparated to The Burrow, looking forward to a pleasant night.
When he got home, the house was dark and quiet. He made his way over to the kitchen, and heard his mother's trademark quick steps coming down the stairs. He hastily put down the cake slice he had just picked up and placed the cover back on the cake.
"Hello, dear. Can you ask Harry to watch where he's going out there, he triggered the wards twice," she asked tiredly. She smiled and shuffled back up the stairs when Ron nodded in confusion.
He ran out to the broomshed, excited that Harry was already set to play, when he saw the dark-haired wizard wandering alone around the property boundary. He looked almost too anxious to disturb, and Ron debated leaving Harry alone to his thoughts. Since the end of the war, his best mate had a rough time of coping with all of the loss and fear (they all had) and took frequent walks alone to clear his head. However, when Ron thought he saw the shadow of someone else, he rushed over, thinking Hermione had got his owl in record time. When he got to Harry, they were alone.
"Who was that you were walking with?" Ron said, craning his neck.
"No one. I'm alone," Harry said just a little too guiltily. Just as Harry said that, there was a rustle in the bushes.
"Well what the bloody hell was that?"
"Just a ferret that's been hanging around," Harry shouted irritatingly into the woods. He jumped as if something had bitten him.
"Did the little rat bite you?" Ron exclaimed, drawing his wand. Harry immediately put his hand on Ron's forearm to stop him.
Ron couldn't remember ever seeing a ferret around his home, and squinted into the trees. He saw nothing. He just shrugged and looked back at Harry. Harry looked relieved, probably happy to be rid of the meddlesome beast.
"Have you seen Hermione today?" Harry asked suddenly just as Ron was about to ask him for a quick game of quidditch.
"No, she said she was going to catch up on reading while I was at the shop. But I just owled her, wanted to see if she wanted to join us for quidditch. Why?" Ron asked, suddenly growing concerned at the odd look on his face. Though if they were being honest, Harry had been acting oddly for days.
"She popped into The Burrow today," Harry said quietly.
"You should've sent her over to the shop, I was there all day."
"Are you and Hermione having problems?" he asked abruptly. "I need to know. You are my best friends and I need to prepare. "
"What do you mean?" Ron said, suddenly panicking. He didn't think the end would come this soon.
Ron had been going so slowly with Hermione, just trying to savour every moment, and waiting for the other shoe to drop. He thought that if he took his time, maybe he could hold onto her a little longer, even if it was just by a thread. He knew he wasn't enough for her, how could he be? And now that the war was over, she was going to go on to amazing things, and look at him like a weight around her ankle. His only chance was to trickle their relationship slowly and hope he could keep her attention.
"Well she came into my room today, obviously upset about something," Harry started. He looked back at the copse of trees and turned Ron away from it. "She asked me about why Ginny and I broke up. And she seemed angry, and then on the verge of tears. I got an owl and when I turned around she was gone."
"Trying to find the best way to let me down gently I suppose," Ron said, sitting down against a tree.
"Ron, she asked me about my sex life!" Harry said, blushing wildly.
"What sex life?" Ron asked, making a fist and daring Harry to say something about Ginny.
"Why would she ask about that?"
"She's your girlfriend, Ron. You love her. You've loved her for years. I think you two need to talk," Harry said, sitting down next to him and pulling at some dewy grass.
"Yeah, I've been avoiding the inevitable for a while now, I suppose."
"You're not making any sense."
"Harry, she's too good for me. Everyone knows it. "
"You are both fools for each other. You try being the third member of our group and tell me you can't see it," Harry said, but Ron couldn't help but look doubtful.
"You don't understand," Ron said, struggling to find the words.
"That fucking horcrux," Harry mumbled. Ron could feel himself turning red.
"I know it was all Voldemort's lies, but you have no idea how inside of my head he was! Just weeks and weeks of these thoughts constantly slamming down on me, even when I wasn't wearing it!" Ron exclaimed, pulling on his hair.
Harry put his hand on Ron's shoulder for a while, and Ron had to look away before he began to even doubt Harry's friendship. He knew it was all wrong, but the thoughts still showed up.
"She's really upset, and she seems hurt, Ron. You need to see her." Harry urged, and suddenly stood up outside of the wards and apparated away.
"Best to just rip the bandage off," Ron said, closing his eyes and focusing on Hermione's bedroom. It was a huge invasion of privacy, but he couldn't risk being detected.
Before his feet even hit the ground, Hermione's wand was raised and her body shaky. When she saw it was Ron, she lowered her wand and closed the book she was reading. Ron was surprised when Hermione walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him tightly, like he was going to disappear any second.
"Hey," he said softly, forgetting the reason he had gone there in the first place. He put his fingers under her chin and met her eyes. "Are you okay?"
"It's…I'm fine," Hermione said, reluctantly pulling away from him and sitting down at her desk. "Okay, Ron. Say what you came here to say."
"You're not making any sense, 'Mione." Ron said, sitting down on her bed and gripping his knees.
"Ron, you never want to…to…touch me. You think I can't read the signs?" she said, turning away from him and putting a hand to her face.
"I never…Hermione?" Ron asked, completely confused.
"You don't want me! We've never done more than kiss, though I've tried, and I doubt it's for moral reasons," she laughed derisively through her tears. "This is just hurting worse, Ron!"
"I'm not…Hermione…why in the world would I ever leave you?" Ron said, suddenly realizing what she was saying, and what Harry was trying to say.
"I'm demanding, I'm highly strung, and let's face it, I'm not much to-"
"Don't even think it." Ron interrupted. "I love that you're demanding! Without you, I'd be lost. And…Gods, Hermione, you're beautiful!"
Ron had no idea how the tables were turned from her breaking up with him to him reassuring her, but he was determined for her to know every last piece about him, and let everything else fall where it may. Keeping his feelings locked away was ruining his relationship.
He looked at the sharp, clever look in her eyes even when they were tearful, and suddenly felt like a complete idiot. She meant the world to him and he was keeping her closed off from the deepest parts of him out of fear. He never felt like more of a coward. He walked over to put a hand on her shoulder, but she flinched away from him.
"Hermione, I…I was afraid to go any further. Afraid it would only mean the end would come that much sooner." He spoke, his voice croaking barely above a whisper.
"You're not making any sense," she sniffled.
"I still think…I feel like…FUCK!" Ron said, grabbing his hair.
He looked up to see Hermione staring back at him, and behind her hurt there was so much understanding there that he just knew. He knew that she could see through to his soul. He knew he needed to stop hiding from her, or they'd never be truly together.
"I think it's better if I show you something," Ron whispered. Hermione looked concerned, but backed away to give him space.
He walked over to her end table and transfigured a clay vase and matching candle holders into a pensieve, and at this Hermione gasped. "Ron, what happened to you? What do you need to show me that you can't tell me?"
"Something I should have shown you right after the war ended." And with that, he put his wand to his head and pulled the silvery mass of the memory through his temple. He swirled it into the bowl, sat on Hermione's bed and nodded.
"Are you going to-"
"I'm not ready to relive it, love."
Hermione took a deep breath and dove in, and Ron hoped she still loved him when she came out.
When Harry and Ron pulled each other in to a tight embrace, and Ron continued to weep openly, Hermione couldn't watch any more and she jumped out of the memory. She found Ron just where she left him, sitting on her bed with his hands clenched like he was awaiting sentencing. She bit her lip to keep from getting too weepy, but a tear slid down her cheek.
"I know, I'm a fool," Ron whispered. "I know that technically none of that was true, but sometimes I can't help but think that maybe it should be true. Maybe I really am not worth your time."
"You could you think that after all we've been through?" Hermione said, her voice catching in her throat. She cast a spell to make sure her door and walls were silenced. She walked over to him, and he stood, finally meeting her eyes. When he saw her tear-streaked face, he pulled her close to him.
"I'm so sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry about what the locket did to me. I'm so sorry I left you," Ron's voice was pleading and his hands were wrapped around her tightly.
"Ron," Hermione whispered, putting her hands on the side of his face and pulling his head closer to hers. "Voldemort was inside your head, he was poisoning you. I can't fault you for that. What I can fault you for is thinking it now, after you destroyed that blackness yourself."
"It felt like he was a part of me, like he was buried deep inside of my chest and floating through my body. It felt like he was ripping out my heart," Ron said, pressing a fist against his sternum.
Hermione took a breath, like she was ready to dive into deep, freezing water, and placed her hands on his hips. She gently ran her fingers up under his shirt, feeling his smooth skin there and trying to stop shaking. She was going to show Ron…show him what he meant and how much he was worth. She was going to let it all flow out of her and wrap him up in her own want, need and love.
Ron shuddered when Hermione ran her hands up his bare sides, and she closed her eyes to revel in the warm, solid feeling of his body under her hands. She let her thumbs move over his rib, sill far too pronounced even after three months of peace, and down around the waist of his trousers. At that action, Ron gasped, and she looked up to see his face getting red and his bottom lip between his teeth.
She steeled her courage and went for it then, pulling his shirt over his head. Ron slipped out of it easily, though her height forced him to finish for her. He looked down, still apprehensive, and ran a gentle hand through her hair. She pressed her forehead to the centre of his chest and brought her hands back up to his waist.
"I'm here now, Ron. Not him. Not your own dark thoughts. It's me. It's me and I love you, I want you so badly, Ron." Hermione whispered against his pale skin. "I'll always be right here. We'll always find a way back to each other."
Ron pressed his face into her hair and breathed deeply for a moment. Then he slowly let his hands wander up and down her back. She pulled back just in time for him to grab her and kiss her fiercely, nearly lifting her off of her feet as he clung to her. Hermione could feel the heat of his skin, pressed against her body, and she wanted more, wanted to feel all of him.
It was as though Ron could read her mind as he carefully, and not very gracefully, pulled her *shell* over her head and let their torsos press together. They both moaned, and Hermione buried her face once again into his chest. This time, she came up kissing his bare skin; letting her lips travel over the over sensitized hills and valleys of his body, causing gooseflesh to rise up with the freckles.
When their lips met again, Hermione felt as though she was being set on fire, like Ron was a flame that would wrap her up endlessly in heat. She groaned when his large hands found her bum, and pulled her up against him. She wanted to press her centre to his, to prove how much she really wanted him, but their heights were proving a little problematic. She leaned up and bit his shoulder lightly, and Ron just looked down and smirked.
Ron leaned down, not a little awkwardly, and began to kiss her neck, sucking and biting gently. Hermione gasped and moaned, even giggling when he hit a particularly sensitive spot. All the while, his hands were up to her breasts, and when his fingers closed over her nipples, even through the satin of her bra, a shock was sent straight through her. She gripped his shoulders tightly.
Ron kissed down between the valley of her breasts, and dropped to his knees. His lips were now just above her navel, and he kissed the bare skin of her abdomen reverently. He reached up and found the clasp of her bra, meeting her eyes to make sure he wasn't moving too fast. Hermione had to hold in a laugh, because at this point, he couldn't move fast enough.
Her humour dissipated when he stretched up and took one of her sensitive nipples into his mouth. He pulled her against his face, gripping her back tightly and leaving her feeling breathless and overwhelmed in a perfect way. She was getting lost in him, and as his tongue circled her breasts and he groaned in pleasure she whispered his name pleadingly, needing more.
They were both shaking, and Ron's wide eyes met hers, echoing her feelings. They both burned, both wanted this so badly, but there was so much tied up into what they were about to do, that the inexperience seemed daunting. Ron swallowed hard and kissed back down her chest. When he got to the button at her jeans, he raised his dexterous, if wobbly fingers and opened them slowly before sliding them down her legs.
"Oh fuck, Hermione," Ron practically whined. "Is this okay," he croaked as he hooked his fingers in the band of her underwear. Hermione put her hands over his and pulled them off of her.
She stood before Ron completely exposed, and it took all of her power not to move her hands to cover herself. She could feel a tremble forming, but then Ron's warm hands ran up and down her thighs, around her back and curling over her hip bones. He breathed in and out slowly, heavily, like he was seeing something breathtaking. Hermione didn't have much time to doubt his sanity, as the heat coursing through her body was getting ready to explode from her pores.
"I can't believe we're…I can't believe I can…gods Hermione I want you so much it hurts." He moaned.
"You can have me," Hermione whispered, before she could even think.
Within a fraction of a moment, Ron moaned and gripped her hips, falling back on his bum and pulling her centre to his face. Hermione cried out as his tongue darted out and ran along her wet folds. His moan rumbled in his chest and his tongue probed deeper and Hermione's knees began to shake. He kissed the inside of her thigh, whispering "I love you," and "so good" between breaths.
She wasn't even holding herself up any longer, but she was beyond worrying about posture or the safety of her position. Ron had pulled her legs open and she was clenching tightly with her knees against his shoulders as his fingers entered her for the first time and his tongue flicked along the sensitive bunch of nerves above her vagina. She could already feel her orgasm building, and she feared that she'd never be able to stay up.
"Ron," Hermione said, unable to finish her sentence as she threw her head back. He raised an arm up around her waist and ran his tongue up and down one more time. She felt her entire body tense, and then release with something more spectacular than anything she could have done herself.
He eased her down slowly, until her bare, throbbing centre was pressed against his clothed erection. She gasped as her sensitive skin brushed against him, and he held onto her a little tighter, his breath hitching. When she regained some composure, and the use of her limbs, she backed away and laid him slowly down on the soft white rug in the middle of her room.
She looked down at his flushed body, the freckles dusting his chest, and the pronounced hip bones that led in a V shape down to something she couldn't wait to see, to feel, to taste. She eagerly kissed around his navel, undoing his trousers. He pulled himself out of his pants as she pulled the slacks to his ankles, and soon he was laid out naked before her like a feast. Both of their cheeks flushed hotly when they realized how long Hermione had been staring at him.
She reached down and wrapped a hand around his throbbing erection, and Ron called out, thrusting up into her touch. He seemed embarrassed by his actions, despite the fact that Hermione was fascinated and already starting to feel herself heat up again. She experimented, running her closed hand up and down his shaft and he thrust against her.
"Hermione, I'm going to…fuck…not this soon!" he exclaimed, clenching his fists tightly at his sides.
Hermione leaned down and took the head of his penis in her mouth, and Ron's cries became louder. He was pulling insistently on her thigh, in what Hermione assumed was an attempt at distraction, to avoid climaxing more quickly. When he guided her hips back toward his face, however, Hermione got the idea, and her knees got weak again.
She lifted her leg over him, and when he let out a hot breath on her flesh, she took more of him in her mouth. He had only begun to lick her again when his body began to tense. He sunk his teeth gently on the back of her thigh and tried to pull away. Hermione wasn't going to let him back down now, and as he came, she took as much of it as she could, relishing his completion.
She got off of him with her back turned and cast a few cleansing spells. Ron's breath began to slow and she could feel his fingertips dance gently across her lower back. "That was, you were amazing Hermione. I can't believe how beautiful you are," he whispered reverently.
Hermione turned back to him and met his eyes. There was so much honesty there, so much vulnerability, that she wanted to cling to him and never pull away. She laid her head against his chest and sighed deeply. She traced her hands lazily up and down his chest, pausing at the smattering of chest hair he had, and the thicker thatch of hair at his groin. When his cock started to get hard again, she sucked in a breath, and Ron coughed.
"Sorry, 'Mione. This is all just really new, and all I can think of is touching you, seeing you and feeling you like that again," he whispered. When she lifted her head to look at him, he was flushing hotter than she had seen him right before he came.
She stood up and helped him up. He wrapped his arms around her and she sank her body into his warm skin, breathing in his scent and trying to commit the moment to memory. When she felt his hardness against her, her body sparked, and she led him over to her bed. She lay down carefully and looked back up at him. His eyes were wide, his face was shocked, and his hands were shaking worse than ever.
"Hermione? Are you sure you're ready?" Ron asked quietly, a tender look on her face that nearly broke her heart.
"I've never been more sure of anything, Ron," Hermione said seriously, trying to keep her voice calm.
He nodded and swallowed thickly. He lay down carefully beside her, bringing his hand up to her face. He pulled her in for a gentle, careful kiss that felt like so much more than a kiss. Hermione could feel promises on his lips, promises they had never made to each other, promises that fear had kept them from making for months. The doubt was gone, and they were both finally ready.
He latched his lips onto her pink nipples, and as the chill ran up her spine, his fingers found her entrance and she opened her legs for him. The new angle allowed him to enter her more deeply, and she could feel the sensation down to her toes. After a few strokes, he added another finger to her, stretching her slightly. The fullness felt amazing, and she was desperate to feel all of him inside of her.
"Ron, please," Hermione begged, opening her legs farther. Ron swore again and rolled on top of her.
He held himself up with his hands, and his eyes met hers. "Please tell me if I need to stop. I can't…I know it might not feel really good, but just tell me, okay?" Ron stumbled, his arms shaking. Hermione nodded and pressed her knees against his sides, encouraging him forward.
One of his hands moved down and found her entrance, and then he gripped himself and slid into her slowly. She thought his penis seemed quite large, and as he entered her, she could feel every inch of him opening her up. There was a sting as he continued to push. Hermione tried to hide a cry, but she couldn't. Ron froze immediately. He looked at her, and then bent down to kiss away the tears she didn't realize were falling down her cheeks.
"Tell me when it's okay," Ron whispered, looking guilty.
"Just keep going slowly," Hermione said.
When she finally felt his body pressed all the way up against her, the pain was nearly gone, and she closed her eyes, concentrating on the fullness of having Ron inside her. His body trembled over hers and he was letting out breathless moans, struggling not to move. His hands were fisted in her duvet. She thrust her hips up, and Ron let out a startled "Unnnh," before gripping the cover more tightly and echoing her movements.
They started out with a slow, tentative rhythm, but soon Ron's movements became erratic. "Hermione, I can't…I'm gonna…"
"Ron," Hermione whispered, and she pressed her hips up hard.
He twitched inside her, whispering her name over and over again like he was praying, or begging, or both. She held onto him tightly, pulling him against her chest as his body shuddered on top of her. When he calmed, he trailed kisses up her sternum and pressed his lips to hers. He buried his face in her hair and ran his nose along the cuff of her ear.
"I love you so much. I've loved you since before I knew what love was," he said, his breath tickling her neck.
"I love you too, Ron. And I'm here with you, forever if you'll have me."
"Are you kidding?" Ron chuckled. He pulled out of her slowly and plopped onto the bed next to her with very little grace.
When their bodies had calmed, Hermione realized they were both drenched in sweat. "Ugh" she groaned, running a finger down her chest. "It's really bloody hot!"
"Too bad we can't take a shower together," Ron said wistfully. Suddenly, he looked over at her, smiling. "But the pond feels great at this time of night!"
Hermione smiled and got up to retrieve her clothes. When she dressed, she found Ron was already clothed and readying his wand. They apparated, and within seconds were transfiguring their clothing into swimsuits on the edge of the old, rickety dock.
Just before they jumped in, a splash and a deep laugh could be heard on the other side of the reeds. Hermione drew her wand to move the longer grass out of the way. She saw Harry swimming backwards. The movements of the water showed her someone was following in front of him. The figure leapt out of the water and Hermione couldn't help but cry out.
"What the fuck!"