It was the perfect day. I held the Quidditch Cup high above my head in the middle of the pitch and it seemed like the entire school was running towards me to clap me on the back (except the sodding Slytherin gits).

This must be what it feels like to be Harry, or Charlie. Always the hero. I thought to myself.

The party in the Gryffindor Common Room was mental. We were all chuffed to have something to celebrate. In such uncertain times, we had a victory. An honest-to-Merlin victory. Seamus and Dean passed around bottles of firewhisky and we all felt invincible. Two things put a damper on my excitement.

One of them, of course was watching Harry snog Ginny (cringe). I'm not against the idea, exactly. Better Harry than some of these other gits (cough, Michael Corner!) but she's still my kid sister; I didn't need to think of her wrapped around any bloke, let alone my best mate. It's still strange: them going out. I didn't even know he was interested in Ginny. She definitely had a 'thing' for him years ago but I assumed it passed. Guess I was wrong! (surprise, surprise)

So, the other thing that dampened my night was that I didn't buck up the courage to snog Hermione. I should have. I should have grabbed her round that tiny waist of hers and snogged her silly. I'd wanted to loads of times. She looked so sad sometimes this year and I wanted to do something about it but sodding Lavendar was always around. It seemed like every time I wanted to ask Hermione what was wrong, Lavendar would pop in between us and, well, distract me.

Once I was no longer strapped to Lavendar, I waited for a chance to take Hermione by the hand and pull her into an empty classroom and tell her everything I'd been keeping from her for years. Every opportunity was missed.

She congratulated me on the win, I stared at her lips and her eyes. I thought for a minute that she felt something too, but Seamus thrust another shot of firewhisky in my hand, singing "Weasley is Our King" at the top of his voice and killed the moment.

Hours later, my eyes completely bleary from the firewhisky, I had to rely solely on my wobbly legs to get up to bed. I don't know why I never noticed that the curtains around my four-poster were pulled shut - I never do that. Perhaps too drunk to care, I flopped down on my bed and yanked my uniform shirt off, crumbled it into a ball and tossed it. I had my eyes closed, but just to try to make the room stop spinning - I knew sleep wouldn't come easily. There was way too much adrenaline coursing through me to sleep.

I have no idea how long she'd been laying there, staring at me. I jumped a meter when I felt her hand on mine. When I turned my head she put a finger up in front of her lips telling me to keep quiet. My whole body froze up like I'd been petrified. Hermione was not only in my bed, but she was almost starkers. I only saw the shoulder straps of a black bra because she had my sheets pulled up high - my sheets pulled up over her naked body. I still can't wrap my head around that one.

I felt so stupidly awkward laying on top of the sheets with a semi. This girl drove me completely barmy. She leaned forward and planted a simple kiss on my lips, then another. Without questioning it, I took her cheek in my hand and held her face to mine as I returned her kisses. All of the questions of the universe swirled around my drink-addled brain and her mouth held the answers. I was sure she'd smack me the first time I pushed my tongue into her mouth. It truly shocked the shit out of me when she made a little panting noise and kissed me back. With her tongue. The first time Lavendar stuck her tongue in my mouth, I was repulsed. I got used to it, mind - but this was different.

This was Hermione. Starkers. In my bed.

She pulled the sheets back and I wiggled in between them. I pulled her body into me; feeling the soft, bare skin of her lower back was almost more than I could handle. I caressed the two dimples on either side of her spine. Any time she leaned over and they peeked out from under her shirt, I'd wondered what it'd be like to touch them. Now I knew.

"This is our own victory party, Ronald." she whispered in my ear. She nibbled my earlobe, making me moan. I don't know what it is about when she says my full name, but it's incredibly hot. She usually only says it when I'm being thick and she's annoyed. She's truly adorable when she's annoyed with me.

I tried keeping my hands in one spot, thinking if I dared go too high or too low on her body that she'd smack me, jump up and run away but I had to know if she was wearing knickers - I had to know. I slowly ran my hand to her bottom and my fingers hit lace.

Lace. Knickers.

All manner of dirty thoughts flooded my already firewhisky-saturated brain. I'd never thought of the kind of knickers she wore. I thought about pulling them off with my hands and with my teeth but never what they looked like. I gave her bottom a firm squeeze and she bit my lower lip. We continued snogging and she lightly scraped her nails along my arm. I moved my mouth down to her neck and her collarbone.

"I've wanted this for ages..." she said.

"Me too." Was all I could manage.

There would be so much time for talking later. I wanted to touch more of her, as much of her as she'd allow me to. Before I knew what was happening, she pulled the waistband of my trousers and the button came undone. I groaned at the thought of Hermione's hands being so close to my groin. I rolled on top of her, one knee on either side of her legs and snogged her hard. She pulled the zipper down and slid a hand into my pants. She grazed her short nails along my most sensitive skin and I shuddered. I closed my eyes, enjoying every stroke of her hand but it was all I could do to not release all over her. If I hadn't been completely pissed, I would have.

She must have sensed what was going to happen if she kept on because she stopped and pulled me down flat on top of her. Her perfect little tits felt amazing on my bare chest. Just a hug from Hermione was enough to send a jolt to my crotch but actually feeling her intimate skin touch mine was so much fucking hotter than I'd ever imagined.

Taking a cue from her, I tucked my fingers into the cup of her bra and found her nipple. I rolled it between my fingers and she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her moans. I moved my body slightly to the side and kissed my way from her jaw to her neck to her collarbone, finally stopping at her nipple. I cupped her breast in my hand and sucked on it feeling her body shiver. I licked my way over to her other nipple and it was just as amazing.

Despite my best efforts to focus on Hermione, I couldn't help but think, Lavendar sure as fuck never let me do this!

All at once, I decided to go for broke. I'd had my free hand on her hip, but I slid it down to her inner thigh and traced upwards. When I felt the hot, wet fabric of her knickers my mind was blown.

"Is that all for me?" I asked, rubbing her with the back of my fingers.

"All you." She moaned arching her neck back into my pillow.

She spread her legs a little wider and I tucked my fingers inside her knickers. Her hips bucked up as I explored. I didn't have the first idea of what I was doing so I just tried to go with it. I moved my fingers up and down and in little circles, listening to what made her moan louder. I cannot describe the feeling. I've tried to describe it to myself a zillion times and words fail me. It was hot. She was soaking wet and moaning my name. MY name. Not Viktor fucking Krum. Not Cormac sodding McLaggen. Mine.

As she came (Ron, OH RON!) I told her how much I fucking loved her. It was then that I heard:

"Ron, will you shut it! You know we can all hear you over here!" It was Harry.

I opened my eyes and Hermione was gone. I blinked and instantly realized I had been dreaming. The embarrassing wet spot on my trousers felt cold against my skin and I felt like throwing myself off of the Astronomy Tower.

"Yeah Ron, just tell Hermione you fancy her. Then you two can have it off and we won't have to listen to you wanking all the bloody time!" Seamus laughed.

"Oh, Hermione! Oh!" Dean mimicked my moaning. If my hair wasn't red enough, I'm sure my face was infinitely redder.

"Yeah, Seamus like we can't you hear you!" Harry called to him, attempting to defend me.

"Oi Potter - don't try to tell me you're not thinking about Ginny when you go all quiet! You wash your socks more often than any of us!" Seamus replied.

I grit my teeth. I was still a bit drunk and I knew that punching Seamus for saying that (or Harry for possibly doing it) wouldn't be a good idea.

"Shut it, the lot of you! I'm trying to sleep!" Neville yelled out, his words slurred. I distinctly heard something, possibly a shoe, being thrown from the vicinity of Neville's bed over at Seamus's.

Accepting that it had been just another dream, I pulled off my soiled pants and trousers and found my t-shirt. I wiped off quickly and felt around on the floor through the bed curtains for some pyjamas. Finding what I needed, I pulled them on and flopped back down into bed.

"Fuck." I turned my face into my pillow, the pillow that Hermione's head rested on in my dream. "Am I ever going to be able to tell her how I feel? Ever?"

She must know. Subtlety isn't exactly your strong suit, mate. Maybe she knows and doesn't feel the same. The little voice in my head replied

It was too awful to think about.

I didn't want to go the rest of my life as just her friend. Feeling a knot in my stomach when some nameless, faceless man held her hand or snogged her in front of me. Standing next to Harry feeling like I was going to die as we watched her marry someone else. I know I was drunk but I honestly felt like crying. I'd never love anyone else the way I loved Hermione Granger. If I couldn't have her...