disclaimer pilfered from LostDove: If I were J.K. Rowling, the books would be called, "Ron and Hermione and the Philosopher’s Stone" … "Ron and Hermione and the Chamber of Secrets" … "Ron and Hermione and the Unavoidably Fluffy Situation" … But they’re not. Therefore, I’m not J.K. Rowling.

this chapter is for BookLuvrM, my smut-loving, mind-reading beta-babe. you owe me a some crazy jewish dinner now. ;)

Ron reluctantly cornered Harry in the quidditch prep room after practice a few days later. "I need to talk to you."

Harry chuckled. "I can guess what about."

"Well, bloody good for you," Ron said tartly, sitting down heavily on the nearest bench.

Harry dropped down beside him. "What's going on? Did it not go as well as you though it would?" Ron wouldn't meet his eyes. Harry's jaw dropped. "You haven't even done it yet, have you?" he asked accusingly.

Ron's ears reddened. "No, I haven't."

"Ron! Stop torturing the poor girl!"

Ron waved him off. "Oh, please, Harry! Seems like she's doing just dandy to me." Indeed, Hermione was-once again-treating him as though nothing had ever happened. Ron felt as if any talent he ever had at interpreting her had suddenly walked away. The whole situation made him want to hit something.

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Well, then you're pretty damned daft."

"Gosh, thanks eversomuch." Ron glared. Then he sighed. No reason to take this out on Harry. "Listen, mate, it's just that-" He fumbled. "That I-" He just couldn't think of how to say it.

"What, that you're a ruddy coward?"

Ron chuckled resignedly. "Well, since you put it that way…yes."

"Oh, get over it, Ron! What do you need, a flashing sign that says 'enter at will'?

Ron squinted, imagining. "That would do nicely, yeah." He grinned Harry.

Harry laughed and shook his head. "You're being ridiculous. You know she loves you, you heard her say it."

Ron raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, technically, no."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Picky, picky. You heard enough."

"I heard enough to make her current behavior down-right illogical."

Harry shot him an incredulous look. "Do you pay attention to anything that goes on around you?"

"No, actually, I'm too busy studying potions, sorry 'bout that." Ron looked at Harry with narrowed eyes, then sighed resignedly. "I've spent the past three days wracking my brain and am no closer to understanding her than I was when we were eleven."

Harry's smile had a bit of indulgence in it. "Want a hint?"

"Yeah, that. Or maybe a map, a script, and a flashlight."

Harry laughed. "All right, then. First off, we know Hermione's not the most secure girl in the world." Ron looked up at him questioningly, and Harry explained. "Remember first year? She just had to tell us exactly the right way to do everything. Constantly trying to prove herself, albeit in a highly annoying fashion."

Ron shrugged a shoulder. "So?"

Harry made an exasperated noise. "So she needs some reassurance, Ron. She's only human. She needs you to communicate how you feel."

"Blimey, Harry, I do! Every time I look at her, or talk to her, or-or anything."

"You look at her like a randy teenager, that's what."

Ron's mouth tightened. "But she's got to realize it's more than that, doesn't she?"

"Ron, how big of a git are you?" Harry asked, surprised. "She's watched you prance around this school for years-well, since you discovered girls, that is-getting off with all sorts of them and not taking any of it seriously."

Ron's jaw dropped. "And-and she thinks this is the same?"

Harry nodded curtly.

Ron felt as though the bottom had fallen out of everything. "How can she?" he managed. "She's-she's it, Harry."

"I know that, and you know that, but she doesn't know that. Think like Hermione would think, Ron."

Ron was quick to answer. "Too bloody logically."

Harry nodded. "Exactly."

Ron mulled this over, then looked at Harry, impressed. "How'd you come about knowing all this?"

Harry looked away and shrugged. "Ginny."

"Ah, yes. My lovely sister. How's that going, by the way?"

Harry's eyes twinkled. "You really want to know?"

Ron held his hands up to ward off details. "Nope, no, never mind, forget I asked."

"That's what I thought."

Ron thought for a moment, then stood up to leave. "All right then, I guess I'm off to have a shower."

"Me too," Harry said, standing. They walked towards Gryffindor in companionable silence. When they separated, Harry shook a finger at Ron. "And when I see you again, I want to see a definite post-Hermione glow, all right?"

"What?" Ron turned to him suddenly, as if startled out of deep thought. Then he chuckled. "I'll do my best."

***

Eclairs, Ron thought, standing outside Hermione's room nearly an hour later, butterflies skipping about in his stomach-- Thank god for eclairs. He smiled at the paper bag he held, and raised a hand to knock—

"What do you want, Ron?" Her voice, though muffled, sounded as though it were just on the other side of the door. He stared dumbly at the offending obstruction, his hand still inches away from actually knocking.

A knowing Hermione opened the door enough to just peek out. "You didn't think they'd leave the Head Girl with no privacy measures, did you?" She opened the door wide enough for him to enter, closed it promptly behind him and gestured towards it. "Look."

Ron did, but only after a sidelong glance at her-clad in very sensible pyjamas made of some flowy fabric that fell over her small body deliciously. He looked away quickly, feigned interest in the door and was surprised to see on it a small circle of light that resembled the hallway just outside. He had to bend down slightly to get a good look, as it was positioned for Hermione's height.

"It's actually a Muggle concept," she said quietly from behind him, "just modified a little so it's undetectable from outside. I always know who's about to knock." Her words just barely fluttered the hairs on the back of his neck and the effect it had on Ron surprised him. He reminded himself to breathe, then straightened and turned to face her. They were inches apart. She looked up at him steadily.

He was caught by her, completely taken by the sweep of her jaw and the dip of her shoulder. He suddenly had the mad wish to just unzip her skin and dive inside-- then perhaps he’d finally understand everything that seemed so inexplicable about her. Then again, that might kill me, he thought ruefully. As it were, she left him distressingly unable to construct proper sentences or get a good night's sleep.

"So what are you doing here, Ron?" Ron blinked. She had turned from him, and seemed to be getting ready for bed. "It's a bit late to be sneaking round the dormitories just to borrow my Transfiguration book."

"Why would I sneak? I know the Head Girl and Boy personally." He flashed a grin at her. "And I don't need your book, thanks very much. I came to give you something."

She looked warily at him. "Dare I ask what it is?"

"Do you even need to ask?"

Check, he thought triumphantly.

She studied him for a moment, then tossed her head and picked up her wand. "Accio!"

The bag flew into her hand. He had to chuckle. "Does this mean you'll take it?"

She gave him a 'you're being daft' look. "Who in their right mind rejects gifts?"

He smiled. "Open it, then."

She put her hand on her hip, considering him, then opened the bag reluctantly. "Don't go thinking that you can simply waltz in here, show me an éclair, and have your way with-" She stopped abruptly and stared at the small box she'd taken from the bag. She looked up at him, surprised. "This isn't an éclair."

"Do I detect a note of bitter disappointment?" He smiled gently at her. "Go on, open it."

She eyed him suspiciously then gingerly took the top off the small box. Her mouth dropped open and she shot him a look of utter disbelief. "Oh, honestly!" she snapped. "If you think for one moment that I'm going to act out one of your ridiculous fantasies, then you should just turn right on round and walk out the door."

Ron's face broke into a grin. "Now, Hermione, would I ever attempt such a lewd thing?"

"Yes," she said tartly. She put the lid back on the box and handed it to him as if it contained something Snape would put in a jar and study.

Ron took the box but paid it no attention. "It's just chocolate."

"Hmf." He watched as she occupied herself with re-arranging her schoolbooks for the following day.

"And there's something else in there, you know." He gestured to the bag he'd brought, which she'd thrown on her desk with disgust.

She looked at him, surprised, then peered into the bag. She pulled out a small piece of parchment-

--and a small brussel sprout.

She glanced at him then back down at the paper. "'There's always potential,' it says." She blinked at it, and he watched as she flushed slightly.

Check.

She looked at him, her chin high. "Oh, I see. And it's up to me to realize the potential? Must I do everything for you?"

Ah, but he was prepared for this.

"You shouldn't assume, Hermione." Ron put down the bag and the box, and pulled out his own wand. "Accio," he said, and the brussel sprout sprang out of her hand. He caught it easily, looked at her intently and used his most beguiling tone. "Come here, then."

She considered it, a half-smile on her lips. "Why?"

"Because."

She tsked. "I need a better reason than that."

"Just come here."

"Ron, we should both be in bed."

"Is that an invitation?" He shot her a wicked look.

She looked down her nose at him. "No."

Ron feigned hurt surprise. "I thought you enjoyed my company."

She shrugged a shoulder. "I don't let just anyone into my bed."

"Then come here and let me sweep you away with my Transfiguration prowess."

This persuaded her, apparently, because she let out a laugh and walked towards him. "What are the chances?" She stood in front of him again, a dubious but curious expression on her face. He found himself looking at her, noticing a little freckle right near her chin, and a little scar on her temple that he'd never seen before.

Stop it, he admonished himself. It would do no good to continue ogling her; he needed to concentrate. He stared hard at the offensive green vegetable for a moment, then pointed his wand at it and muttered the same thing Hermione had said on the quidditch field all those nights ago.

To his great relief, it worked.

"There!" he said triumphantly, holding out a nearly perfect éclair.

He took a bite, savouring not only the taste, but the fact that Hermione couldn't seem to look away from his mouth. "Would you like some?" He held out the dessert.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "It's terrible to eat before going to bed, Ron."

"Says who?" He dipped a finger into the filling then swirled it around inside his mouth, not taking his eyes off her.

"And-and sugar isn't good for you." Her cheeks were getting slightly pink.

"So what?" He swept more crème out of the éclair and placed a dab straight on her nose.

"Ron!" She jumped and immediately wiped it away. Then she stared for a moment at her crème-covered finger.

Her eyes glinted and she reached towards his face with obvious intent. He caught her wrist inches away from its intended target. He couldn't waste this opportunity. His gaze on her face, he brought her finger to his lips and gently licked off the crème, enjoying himself thoroughly. Her cheeks turned a high shade of pink and her lips parted slightly. Brilliant. Ever-so-slowly, he turned her wrist just enough so he could place his lips against the soft skin of the underside. He was rewarded by a small gasp. His insides turned over at the sound.

He tugged her gently towards him until their whole bodies were touching. His skin started to tingle and he knew his desire would be evident in mere seconds. His heart pounding, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Go on, it won't kill you."

She leaned back enough to look him in the eye. "No," she said softly, taking the éclair from out his hand, "it won't." She paused, searching his face, then seemed to come to a decision. "But you might be the death of me." Her other hand snaked out of his to the back of his neck, pulling him towards her, and she kissed him. He was nearly too surprised to kiss her back.

Nearly.

He felt like the earth was disappearing from under his feet. He buried his free hand in her hair as her lips opened beneath his. His heart beat wildly against his chest and he wondered how he'd gone for so long without this. She kissed him thoroughly, as if seeking the answer to a complex problem, and his body felt so alive he could hardly breathe.

Then she pulled back, completely back, leaving only one hand intertwined with his. He nearly groaned in disappointment. "What?" he breathed.

She held up the éclair. "We have unfinished business," she said softly.

He raised an eyebrow. "Plenty, in fact."

"I meant the éclair."

"Mm-hmm." He plucked it out her fingers and took a bite.

"Ron!" She reached over to take it from him.

"Uh-uh." He held it up in the air where she couldn't possibly reach it.

"It was my spell!" she yelled, jumping toward his hand in vain.

"Yes, but it was my brilliant idea." He reached his other hand round to tickle her side while she was focused on her quarry.

She started and stepped back, nearly losing her balance, and found herself sitting on her bed. "Oy! Ron!"

"What?" he said innocently, taking another bite.

"That wasn't fair!"

"Who says life is fair?" he said sagely.

She threw her hands in the air. "Oh, bollocks to you."

Ron was shocked. "Why, Hermione Granger! What unladylike language!" He grinned at her. "I do believe I'm rubbing off on you."

She didn't budge. "And if you'll be obliging, you'll sod off as well!"

He hid his grin, instead putting on a cajoling face and holding out the last bite of the éclair. "You wouldn't insult a man offering you his last bit of sweet, would you?"

She pursed her lips slightly, but he could tell she was tempted. He stayed still, watching her inner debate.

Finally, her hand darted out and snatched the bite out of his hand. He watched, a bit envious, as she enjoyed every last second of it.

After a moment, she looked at him expectantly. "Well?"

"What?"

She looked at him intently and held out her hand. "Don't we have some other unfinished business?" she said softly.

He blinked.

In a flash he was in front of her, her hand in his. "I reckon so," he murmured with a smile. Then, unexpectedly, he was struck by the feeling of her hand. Warm and soft and-and- He tried to think of the word but failed. Good. Really good.

Hermione's voice broke into his musing. "Ron, take your shoes off."

He nearly laughed. "What?"

She nodded at his feet. "Take your shoes off."

He glanced from her face to his shoes. "Why?"

She smirked at him. "Because, you idiot, I don't want you getting my bed dirty."

At the moment of comprehension, all Ron's thought ceased.

"You mean-" He hadn't realized he'd spoken until he heard the sentence drop off, and had no idea how to finish it.

A corner of her mouth turned up, and thankfully she kept speaking, her tone light. "Not to mention, it would be entirely awkward for us to continue while you have your shoes on."

A laugh escaped him. "You have a point with that one." He cleared his throat and looked at her intently. "Hermione-You're sure?"

She smiled up at him gently, laughter in her eyes, then pointed to a spot next to her on the bed. "Take off your shoes, Ronald."

He raised an eyebrow at her, but sat down to do as ordered. "I was under the impression that you didn't let just anyone into your bed," he said mildly, trying not to sound like a completely giddy fool.

She studied him for a moment, a mild expression on her face that he dared not interpret. Then she played a surprised look and trailed her hand up her arm slowly. "Yes, well, that Transfiguration move seems to have worked, hasn't it?"

Ron had absently finished ridding himself of shoes and socks, all the while watching her leisurely progress up his arm. The skin under his clothing tingled where she touched it.

He swiftly took her hand and brought it to his lips. "Works every time." He lightly nipped the inside of her wrist, eliciting another small gasp. "As, I see, does that." He wanted to try it over and over again and see what other sounds he could get her to make, but she wrenched her hand away and shook a finger at him warningly.

"I can play that game, too." She leaned over the side of the bed and her top slid up, giving Ron a very good view of her deliciously curvy lower back. He nearly reached out to smooth a hand up the creamy skin but she straightened, holding the previously discarded box of chocolate.

"Let's see," she began, feigning deep concentration. "What on earth could keep Ron distracted during weeks of stimulating goblin social history lectures?" She paused, as if thinking hard. "I've got it!" she said victoriously. "Perhaps something a bit like this-"

She dipped her finger in the box and proceeded to draw a line of chocolate from the pulse point in her neck to the first button of her pyjama top. He nearly lost his mind when her finger slid into the shadows of her cleavage and out again, finding its way to her mouth to be licked clean.

She looked up at him with triumph in her eyes. "That about right, Ron?"

"Yeah-Yeah, about right," Ron said hoarsely. All he saw was the trail of sweetness on her skin and all he knew was how badly he wanted to taste it. It seemed his blood was rushing about in a mad frenzy.

"Well?"

He looked up at her face, then became caught on her lips. "What?" he managed, his throat thick with want.

"How does the rest of the fantasy go?"

"Come here," he very nearly growled, pulling her towards him. His hands slid around the small of her back and into her hair, and he kissed her with every ounce he had. His tongue demanded entrance into her mouth, and she obliged quickly. She tasted like chocolate and the sensations nearly made him dizzy.

He pulled back and looked at her with a gleam in his eyes. Her cheeks were stained with pink and her lips were parted slightly. "That's not usually at the beginning," he said lightly, brushing a finger along her cheekbone, enthralled by the colour there. Knowing he had put that colour there.

"Oh, really?" Her voice was nearly fluid.

"No, usually I have much more self-restraint than that."

"Restraint? You?" She snorted. "They truly are fantasies, then."

His jaw dropped. "Why you little-" He swiftly picked her up by the waist and flipped her onto the bed, sitting up on his knees next to her. She laughed and stuck her tongue out at him as he placed his hands on either side of her head and leaned over her. "And you say I have a smart mouth."

He kissed her teasingly this time, not letting her have access to his mouth, just running his tongue along her lips and pressing his mouth against hers lightly. She moaned in frustration and he broke off, laughing. "What?"

She nearly pouted. "Play fair, Ron."

"Play fair?" He wrinkled his brow in mock confusion. "Ah, yes, the game! How could I forget?" He smiled wickedly and moved lower, placing a kiss on the bit of skin she'd sullied with chocolate. His lips unhurriedly enjoyed the beautiful smooth spot on her neck, getting to know a part of the woman he'd been aching to explore.

Her back arched and her breath came out in a bit of shudder. "Oh god, Ron." His stomach vaulted at the sound of his name on her lips.

His lips moved down the sweet trail, tasting new skin. Wonderful skin. He felt her hand weave into his hair, encouraging him. He slowly reached the end of the trail-- and the button of her pyjamas. His head swam with the possibilities and his stomach fluttered with nerves.

He raised his head to look at her. Dammit, she looks good enough to eat. Her cheeks were thoroughly pink now, and her eyes were bright with desire as she looked at him questioningly. "Why'd you stop?"

"Because, I-" He petered off. "I just wanted-" He stopped. What did he want?

Well, that was easy enough-her.

All at once, words he'd overheard floated through his head. He could have said something remotely related to love but he most definitely did not, Hermione's voice echoed. So why should I risk it either?

His eyes traveled from her mouth to her hair to her flushed cheeks to her eyes. Her eyes.

He took a deep breath and dove in. "I want you," he said roughly. He captured her lips with his own, his tongue sweetly gaining access and dancing with hers. A few seconds later, he spoke softly against her mouth. "In every single way." He pressed his lips against hers gently before she could protest. "Because you're brilliant." He kissed her again. "And gracious." Again, grazing his tongue against her lips this time. "And funny." Again, thoroughly now, trying to get her to feel the truth of his words.

He pulled back and looked her in the eye. "And definitely the most arousing sight I have ever laid eyes on."

She burst into light laughter and cupped his face in her hands. "I could say the same for you." She kissed him lightly, teasingly flicking her tongue against his bottom lip. "But as you're really an unattractive git, I'd best not."

In the moment he spent staring at her twinkling eyes, she deftly slid out from under him and pushed him onto his back. He laughed out loud. "You think so, do you?" he asked as she straddled his thighs triumphantly. He pulled gently on her hips to settle her body over him, then pushed up into her just enough-- Her eyes widened and she sucked in a breath, thoroughly distracted, and with hardly any effort he grabbed her hands and pinned her lightly beneath him.

He looked her in the eye, his mouth curved into a grin. "This means war, you realize."

She looked up at him defiantly and he felt her hips move in a small circle against him. He moaned low in his throat and shot her a fierce look.

"Then let the games begin." And he lowered his head.

He danced his lips along her neck while his hands found their way to the first button on her pyjama top. One down, he thought as he slid the button out of it's hole. Slowly, he kissed his way down to the newly-exposed skin. She gasped and arched her back again, and he smiled. He continued to the next button, then the next, until they were all undone, and kissed every bit of her he could reach. He raised himself to get a proper view and softly drew apart the two pieces of fabric, pushing her top off her shoulders.

"Beautiful," he breathed, running a palm around her breasts with reverence. He couldn't seem to get a proper breath.

My god-- this woman really is amazing. Better than he'd ever dreamed.

He reached around to help her get the garment entirely off. "You're just-perfect." The words tumbled out before he could stop them and she laughed softly. He dipped his head down to her left breast and her laughter became a low moan that set his skin on fire. He moved his lips lovingly around her breast, getting closer to the center, listening to her gasp and feeling like the king of the world. When his lips finally surrounded her nipple, she cried out and writhed beneath him.

His mind whirled. To know he had this effect on her was quite possibly the best rush he'd ever had. It was a heady experience with anyone, but with Hermione- He knew it was something he wouldn't mind doing for a very long time.

As was his intention.

He thoroughly teased one nipple, then obligingly turned his attention to her other breast. Both her hands were buried in his hair by this point, and she was taking shallow, gasping breaths every time his lips moved against her skin.

It had also never been this much fun before, he realized. With other girls, it was enjoyable, but this was- This was like worship. This was the only proper way to express how immensely beautiful she was. This simply made sense.

He felt her hands tug on his hair slightly. "Ron…" His name tumbled from her lips in a low airy tone and he moved up to taste her mouth again. Her tongue pushed into his and they kissed for what seemed like years before he realized her hands had moved to the small of his back, nudging his shirt aside to caress the skin underneath. "You have far too many clothes on," she whispered into his lips.

He grinned. "Well, I'll remedy that straight away, won't I?" He got to his feet beside the bed and rid himself of said clothes as gracefully as possible. Surprisingly, he managed not to tear anything or fall over, a feat he had not expected.

Finished, he looked at her, tension suddenly coiling in his stomach. Her eyes grazed his body hungrily, lingering low, then met his. He tried not to feel self-conscious. "Come here." The desire in her voice erased any thoughts of discomfort. The desire in her voice nearly erased any thoughts at all.

He made as if to swan dive onto the bed and she laughed. He settled himself next to her and propped his head in his hand. "Care to join me, Ms. Granger?" He waggled his eyebrows at her lasciviously and gestured at his nakedness.

She considered, then shook her head. "No, thanks, I think I'll just keep my modesty for a bit longer."

He guffawed. "Modest? You?" He grinned wickedly. "Only in your fantasies."

She shrieked and made to hit him but he deflected her easily, catching her wrist and pinning it over her head. "Play fair, Hermione." She looked at him defiantly and suddenly he felt her other hand travel down his body, past his stomach. He sucked in a breath and reached to take her hand away. "That's most definitely not fair."

She dodged his hand and touched him again, with a face that clearly said she wasn't interested in playing fair. He let out a shuddering breath and brought a hand to her heated face. "Listen, you," he scolded softly. "If you keep on with that, this will last about ten more seconds."

She laughed out loud and he flushed slightly. She saw his face and kissed him gently, her hands in his hair. "Oh, Ron, this is wonderful. You shouldn't be worried."

"Worried?" he scoffed, wincing internally that he was so transparent. "I'm not worried, I just want to try some things before I get too-distracted."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Some things? More transfiguration expertise?"

He chuckled. "No, I think I'm through with that for now." He casually slid a finger under the waistband of her pyjama bottoms, sneaked into her underwear, then tugged them down as low as he could.

"Ah, well then, moving on," she said sagely, innocuously lifting her hips enough that he could tug her clothing all the way off.

"To much better things, in my opinion." He leisurely ran his hand up the length of one beautiful thigh and down the other, then back up, oh so slowly, to their apex. His fingers reached their target and she breathed in sharply, her eyes closing and his name coming out of her in a groan. His blood roared as he caressed her softly and watched her body shiver with ecstasy.

She wants this, he realized with a pang of certainty. She wants me.

And suddenly he wanted more than anything to see how far he could take her.

He leaned in and kissed her neck, sucking a red mark onto the delicate skin. Her back arched and her hips started to move, pushing his fingers to a faster rhythm. He raised his head to look at her. There's just nothing so beautiful as this, he thought.

When her breath started to hitch, he slowed purposefully, eventually moving his hand back up her stomach to lazily circle her breasts.

She bit her lip and opened one eye to glare at him. "Who's not playing fair now?" She sighed dramatically and closed her eyes again, surreptitiously shifting her breasts into his hands.

"On the contrary, you'll find my methods quite fair, even extraordinarily so. " He paused, moving has hand up to her chin. "I have a debt to settle, remember?"

Her eyes flew open and she stared at him. She knew exactly what he was implying.

Check.

When she spoke, the words rushed together. "Oh god, Ron you don't have to-I mean-it was a silly joke-" He was charmed by this sudden shyness, and caressed her cheek reassuringly. "-I don't want you to feel obligated, because you're not, you know, and-" His fingers reached her lips and she stopped abruptly.

"I don't." He ran a finger across her bottom lip tenderly. "I've been wanting to do this for a long time."

Her eyes were wide and stared into his for what seemed to be ages. Then she bit her lip and nodded.

His face broke into a grin and he kissed her softly. "I can't promise to be perfect, but I should think you won't regret it."

The corner of her mouth turned up and her eyes fell to his mouth. Her gaze lingered and her tongue darted out to wet her lips. "I should think."

He growled and was on her in an instant, feeling the need to devour her whole. Silly joke, indeed, he thought as he dragged his lips down her body. A silly joke that had tortured him for weeks.

She squirmed when he reached her stomach, and he chuckled against her skin. "Ticklish?"

He felt a hand pinch his earlobe hard. "Yes, and don't you dare do that again."

"Ouch! All right, mum, I get the message!" he muttered as he drew her legs apart and settled in between them.

She smacked the back of his head just enough to make a loud sound, but not enough to hurt. "Don't you dare bring your mother into this, Ronald Weasley! You certainly know how to ruin a perfectly good--" She gasped and wove her fingers tightly into his hair. "Oh, god."

Trumpet fanfares boasted triumph in Ron's head.

He explored for a long moment, enjoying the flavour and texture of her. Then she moaned and moved her hips in an impatient circle. He raised his head for a moment. "Demanding, are we?" He had to dodge her hand again, then resumed his ministrations.

He savoured her lovingly, moving steadily across her center. Thoroughly enjoying himself, he investigated all avenues, find things that made her gasp and things that made her shake.

Better than eclairs, he decided. Much better.

Her legs began to tense and she breathed his name desperately. He tasted her until she was writhing beneath him, crying out for him to keep going, to never stop, to go faster-

"Oh god, Ron, yes!"

He felt her hips arch off the bed, her body clenched. He stayed with her, relishing the tremors that flowed through her.

After a moment, her hands tightened in his hair, and one made its way to his cheek, gently pulling his head up. He looked up at her and couldn't help but grin. She tugged at his hair insistently and he made his way back up her length, settling in closely beside her. He was surprised when she leaned over and kissed him, a bit timidly but rather thoroughly just the same. He recovered quickly and kissed her back, letting her taste.

She drew back and laughed at the look on his face. "You look like the proverbial cat that ate the canary."

"Didn't taste like canary…" He threw her a lopsided grin.

She rolled her eyes. "I should hope not." She paused, putting a finger to his lips lovingly. "Thank you."

He chuckled, then saw her face flush slightly with embarrassment. He took her hand and shook his head, trying to explain. "You're welcome. It's brilliant, really, I--Any time you want-Any time, honestly." He paused, then plunged ahead. "Was I-was that-the first time anyone had-you know-done that? To you?"

Her face flushed deeper and she nodded. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No! God no, I was just-I was just curious, that's all." He kissed her gently. "The debt is settled, by the way."

She looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "And?"

He ran his tongue over his lips contemplatively. "You were right-- Much better."

She laughed and pulled him to her, kissing him fully. Want jolted through his body and he reached to touch her somewhere, anywhere, but pulled back, afraid she might need more time.

She murmured something into his lips and he felt her hand on his back, urging him to move over her. He broke the kiss and leaned against her forehead. "You're sure?"

She nodded. "Yes." She took a deep breath, studied his face, and a small smile broke out. "I want you."

Ron felt as if the Cannons had just won the league. He dove into her with a splash, running his hands over her body, all the skin he could reach, and explored her mouth with such fervor he half expected her to resist. But she didn't. Her hands roved up and down his back, running through his hair and encouraging him as he settled in the cradle of her hips. He pressed into her eagerly and she laughed. "Demanding, are we?" she said wickedly, raising her knees and capturing his body between her legs.

He started to laugh but it got stuck in his throat as he felt how close they were. "Oh, Jesus-" He cut himself off abruptly. "Hermione, should-did-" The tips of his ears reddened. What a sodding mug I am.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her face filled with sudden worry.

He couldn't quite look her in the eye. "I've never-I mean-I've always stopped just before-er-This." His face burned.

"Oh!" She looked quite surprised, then her face softened and she spoke gently. "We don't have to-if you don't want to--"

"No, I want to!" He cut her off immediately, his eyes coming back to her face urgently. "Dear god, I want to. I just don't know about the-precautionary-bits-"

"Oh, I've taken care of all that--"

"All right-but-I don't want to-hurt you…"

She shushed him quickly. "You won't." She looked at him plainly and suddenly he understood.

She'd done this with someone else.

His jaw clenched. "You mean you're not-"

"No, I’m not." She kissed him sweetly, reassuringly, but he pulled back after a moment. He had to ask, and he hated himself for it.

"Who?"

Pain flashed in her eyes and he nearly flinched. "Ron, please don't ask me that. It doesn't matter now." He searched her face, but there was no trace of guilt or embarrassment. She looked as if-as if she was telling the truth. "I'm with you now. I want to be with you."

He felt her arms go around him, her body moved against him, and suddenly he was sliding inside of her. He didn't know whether to cry out or to kiss her or to shut his eyes or to weep. All he knew was that it was brilliant.

"Oh god, Hermione." He lost himself in the sensations, following where instinct led him. He kissed her roughly, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and nearly crying out when hers twisted with his just as urgently. After a moment, he tore away, gasping. He couldn't seem to breathe properly.

He cupped her face with his hand. "You-this-" he trailed off and pushed into her, watching her face. So fucking beautiful. Her eyes had a wild look to them and her bottom lip was between her teeth. He shifted, trying a different angle, and she gasped.

His blood pumped recklessly through his veins as he watched his name form on her lips and felt her hands in his hair. He was struck deeply by emotion, and the words came tumbling out of his mouth. "Hermione, I lov-"

Her eyes snapped open, he saw fire in them, and she quickly put a finger over his lips. "Don't," she said, shaking her head impatiently. "Just-" Her hands guided his lips to hers and her hips thrust against him.

His eyes slid shut of their own accord and he couldn't help but move with her. Her body was moving into his perfectly and her lips were so sweet. His mind swam; he couldn't think of anything but this. He slid a hand into her hair and buried his face in her neck, moaning incoherencies, knowing only that he loved this woman and never wanted this to end. He thrust into her mindlessly, feeling his insides coil, hearing himself cry out with urgency.

Then he heard her whisper in his ear. "It's all right, Ron. Let go." And suddenly all his muscles tensed and he felt sweet release, the sweetest release he had ever imagined. He shuddered into her, feeling her hands on his back, in his hair, feeling her neck against his lips and the warmth of her body.

He tried to hold himself up, so as not to crush her, but his body was not interested. He heard her soft laughter and slowly raised his head. "What?" he managed roughly.

"Relax."

He blinked. "Honestly?"

"Honestly. It's-it's actually quite nice, for a bit at least." She looked at him cajolingly. "Please?"

He let out a breath and eased his body onto hers, feeling like a bit of an oaf but liking the feeling of having their whole bodies touching. He could hear her soft breathing, and her fingers stroked his hair gently.

After a moment, he pulled his body off of hers and settled at her side. He trailed kisses along the skin within his reach, relishing the way her neck curved into her shoulder and the little dip of her collarbone.

"Ron?" Her voice was quiet.

He smiled into her skin. "What?"

"Are you going to-to stay the night?"

Reality flew at him with a crash and he pulled away from her. "Do you want-Should I leave?" He felt sick with the possibility.

"Well, I-" She stopped, as if she didn't want to say what she was thinking. "I don't want you to. If you want to go, then-"

"No! I---" He swallowed and looked at her desperately. "I want to stay."

"Then stay," she said softly, smiling. He couldn't help but smile back.

Then she moved as if to stand up. "Are you going somewhere?" He tried to sound light hearted, but this was all very new to him.

"Yes." A smile played on her lips as she stood up and looked at him. "I'm going to the loo."

He felt his ears go up in flame. "Oh, sorry."

She laughed. "Don't apologize. You should too, you know."

His face reddened. "Right." She disappeared through the adjoining door and he sunk back into the pillows. His thoughts were absolute muck.

He covered his face with his hands. Right. Get your bloody act together, Weasley. Damn his body. Damn the power that woman had over him. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair, trying to collect himself. Trying to convince himself that everything was all right.

"Something wrong?" Her voice startled him and he realized she was standing near him, looking concerned.

"Er-no. I'm fine." He stood up. "I'll just be-" He gestured towards the bathroom door. "Right." He moved to go past her but was stayed by her cool hand on his arm. He forced himself to look at her, his face still flushed with embarrassment.

She leaned up, pressed her lips into his and Ron was stunned. It felt completely new to him, gentler than before, and emotion overwhelmed him. He buried his fingers in her hair and opened his lips under hers, sliding his tongue softly into her mouth, lovingly exploring.

It ended and she smiled up at him. "I'll be here."

He touched her cheek fleetingly. "Good."

She turned and pulled the dishevelled bedcovers down. He watched her climb in, admiring her body and wondering when he'd ever get another chance to be with her like this.

The thought stuck with him as he washed up. He felt far too helpless for his own liking, but when all was said and done he really couldn't change it. He had tried, hadn't he? And she had shushed him. Shushed him.

He looked in the mirror, took a deep breath, then made his way back to the bed.

She had the covers tucked in around her and he couldn't help but smile at the perfect picture she made. She saw his smile and pushed back the covers. "Care to join me?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

He chuckled. "I'd love to, actually." He settled against her, enjoying the feeling of her warmth with his. It was new to him. He realized he rather liked it.

She snuggled into his shoulder. "It was wonderful, Ron. Good night."

"Good night, Hermione," he said softly.

He lay awake for a long while.

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one quote from High Fidelity that I'm sure nobody would sue me for--but I have to get it off my conscience. ;)

okay, I'll admit I made ron kind of a player. it was all selfish-I wanted him to have experience so I wouldn't have to write an incredibly awkward sex-scene. there are enough of those in real life. XD (smiley stolen from Allison)

and don't go telling me that no men are this unselfish in bed--I'm lucky enough to be sleeping with one such jewel. they exist, I promise. :) thank goodness. ;)

…i made this!…