Scruffy Love (PG-13)
Title: Scruffy Love
Author: mugglemama
Prompt: #47 Stubble
Pairing(s): Ron/Hermione
Word Count: ~2,640
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Hermione really likes it when Ron doesn't shave
Warnings: No smut! * gasp *
A/N: I am lost without my superbeta undercloakkept and my cheerleader redheadsarehot. Many thanks to both of you; may your dreams be filled with lots of Scruffy!Ron. Written for the Summer Pick-a-Prompt Challenge on hp_canon_fest.
Hermione Granger lay back amongst her pillows, looked up at the ceiling ... and scowled.
She was tired...
And restless...
And extremely frustrated.
She tossed and turned in the large empty bed she usually shared with Ron, but he was away on a mission, going on eleven days now, not to return for at least another three.
Most of all, Hermione was lonely.
She had grown accustomed to having Ron by her side every night; this was the first extended mission he had been on since they moved in together following their engagement six months earlier. Without him there, everything was different...everything was wrong.
One would think she would welcome the quiet, but silence echoed throughout the room in the absence of Ron's comforting snores. You'd think she'd be glad to have the chance to stretch out without his heavy arms holding her in place, yet she found herself unable to occupy any additional space in their bed, going so far as to surround herself in a cocoon of pillows in an effort to pretend he was there.
She missed the feel of his lean body pressed against her back; the tickle of his red-gold hairs along her smooth skin; the delicious sensation of the rough skin of his thumb, calloused from gripping his wand, tracing circles over her bare hip; the gentle scratching of his stubble as he groggily kissed that sigh-inducing spot under her ear every morning. God, how she loved the sensation of his bristly skin under her lips and against her body.
She traced her fingers over her mouth, remembering her first encounter with Ron's unshaven face back in their Fifth Year at Hogwarts, and the strange and frightening reaction it elicited in her.
*~*
All she had wanted to do was distract Ron from the positively awful Slytherins and their rude badges. She wasn't naive enough to think that she alone possessed the power to counteract the bundle of nerves that had taken up residence in Ron's stomach; she merely hoped he would be confused/repulsed/shocked enough that Harry could get him to the pitch without further incident.
Though, if she were being truly honest with herself, she sincerely wished repulsion was not the emotion her unexpected display of affection had garnered in him. It certainly wasn't what she was feeling - far from it in fact.
She pressed shaky fingertips to her mouth, surprised to find it was not hot to the touch, for she was certain her lips were on fire. They certainly still tingled from the contact with the course hairs on Ron's cheek, so light in colour they were invisible unless you were only a hair's breadth away.
It wasn't as if she had never kissed anyone before - just last year she had kissed Harry's cheek when they parted for the summer at King's Cross Station. When she touched her lips to his smooth skin, she wanted to convey comfort and friendship and it had aroused no reaction in her, save something akin to maternal concern.
Unfortunately not even a kiss on the lips, by an older and obviously more experienced man, had elicited feelings like this. Viktor Krum, with his clean-shaven face and overpowering cologne had only confused her. She knew she was supposed to enjoy the experience, but his too-firm grip and over-wet lips made her want to cringe and run away. He was a lovely friend, but his kiss proved to her he would never be anything more.
One touch of her lips to Ron's stubbly face made her feel more excited and more alive than anything else in her sixteen years. She had become accustomed to the fluttering in her stomach from Ron's smile or the accidental brush of his hand, yet this time ... this time was different. The evidence of his physical maturity gave Hermione a very unfamiliar tingle a bit lower than her stomach.
Hermione sighed as she realised the boy she fancied was becoming a man - a man whom she could grow to love.
*~*
Hermione had soon learned it was tradition for the boys on the Gryffindor Quidditch team to forego shaving before a match, giving her yet another reason to look forward to game day.
She certainly enjoyed the sight of a half-asleep, unshaven Ron wandering into the Burrow kitchen each morning that summer after Fifth Year. His fiery hair would be mussed from sleep as he padded into the room, murmuring greetings as he rubbed his tired face. She relished the chance to observe how Ron's beard seemed to change, getting heavier and darker each day, before he would shower and shave.
Of course, not everyone had been as intrigued with Ron's facial hair as Hermione...
*~*
"Morning, Hermione. Have you been to breakfast yet?" Harry asked as he bounded down the stairs from the boys' dormitory.
"Good morning, yes I have. Besides," she said, with a wry smile, "I thought today was your day to dine with Won-Won."
"Hermione," Harry said pleadingly, "why can't we just-"
Whatever Harry was going to say was cut off when a loud squeal filled the common room.
"Won-Won!" Lavender shouted as Ron descended the stairs and she ran to throw her arms around him.
Hermione could have sworn she saw Ron wince at the contact, but she figured it was just wishful thinking.
"Shame on you Won-Won!" Lavender screeched, causing the entire common room to turn their attention to the pair. "You know the rules."
Ron's ears were an alarming shade of red as he tried to hush her. "Calm down, Lavender," he hissed. "What is it I'm supposed to have done this time?"
Harry and Hermione shared an amused glance at Ron's predicament.
"No kissy-kissy if you don't shave," Lavender pouted. "You know I have sensitive skin."
"Oh, I guess I, uh ... forgot," Ron stammered, staring at his feet. "I was up late working on my potions essay, got a late start this morning."
Harry gave Ron a puzzled look over Lavender's shoulder, since he knew that Ron had been up and dressed before him and he had finished his essay for Slughorn before dinner the previous night.
"Well, don't forget again," Lavender reprimanded with a coy smile, walking her fingers up his chest. "You get rid of this," she touched his stubbly cheek, wrinkling her nose in disgust, "and then I can give you a proper good morning kiss." She tapped him playfully on the nose. "I'll be waiting for you downstairs," she said as she turned on her heel and flounced out of the portrait hole.
Harry turned back to Hermione, "I, uh, better go."
"Of course."
Hermione was shocked when Ron suddenly appeared next to Harry. He gave her a silent nod, accompanied by a very small, very sad smile. He had given up trying to talk to her in the weeks since the start of term and she had continued pretending he didn't exist.
Ron turned to Harry as Hermione returned to her book. "Breakfast, mate?"
"Um, sure. Want me to wait?"
"Wait for what? I'm starving."
"Don't you want to go, you know, shave?" Harry asked.
Ron rubbed a large hand over his scruffy face. Hermione gave an involuntary shiver at the scratchy sound, which fortunately neither boy noticed.
"Nah. What for?" Hermione lifted her book a little higher to better hide her smile.
"Your call, mate," Harry said, laughing. "See you in class, Hermione," he called out as they headed toward the exit.
"Goodbye Harry," she replied stiffly. She chanced a glance up from her book and saw Ron watching her from across the room before hanging his head dejectedly and following Harry into the hall.
Three days later Hermione was seated on the edge of Ron's hospital bed, mere hours after his near-fatal dose of poisoned mead. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had gone home to the Burrow, promising to return the next morning, while Harry and Ginny had adjourned to the Common Room after dinner to discuss what to do about replacing their injured Keeper.
Hermione watched Ron's brow furrow as he faced some unknown darkness in his dreams; she stroked a cool hand over his face and he instantly relaxed, sighing contentedly. She let her hand linger on his unshaven cheek, revelling in the way it tickled her palm.
Glad that Madam Pomfrey was otherwise occupied, Hermione leaned forward and whispered into his ear, "I'm so glad you are going to be all right. I hope we can be all right too." Ron turned his head to the sound of her voice and rubbed his cheek against hers, moaning in his sleep and reminding her very much of Crookshanks.
Hermione found she rather liked the scratch of his stubble against her cheek. She blushed as she couldn't help wondering what it would feel like on other parts of her body.
It took over a year for her to find out the answer.
*~*
Hermione chanced a glance at the bedside clock, which told her it was half three in the morning. Punching her pillow for the umpteenth time, she flopped back onto the bed and groaned.
Thinking about the scratch of Ron's rough cheek against her body was not going to help her get some much needed sleep.
Unfortunately, once her thoughts turned to Ron, nothing could pull her away. She closed her eyes and let the memories wash over her.
*~*
Ron left his grieving family in the Great Hall while he escorted a still-stunned Harry back to Gryffindor Tower. After seeing to it that Harry was fed and put to bed, Ron opted for a quick shower to wash the stench of the day's battle from his weary body.
Wandering listlessly into the boys' dormitory, he was startled by the sight of a freshly washed Hermione, clad in her dressing gown, sitting on the edge of his bed watching Harry sleep.
"Hey," he whispered. Nodding toward Harry, he asked, "Is he okay?"
Hermione smiled up at Ron. "He's fine. Peaceful, actually ... if you can believe it."
"Good." Ron made his way across the room and sat on the bed beside Hermione, smiling slightly to himself when she took his large hand between hers and settled them in her lap as she rested her head against his shoulder.
Neither of them spoke for several minutes, as they sat vigil over their sleeping friend, each replaying the horrors of the past year.
Ron finally broke the silence when Hermione yawned widely for the second time. "We should get some sleep, yeah?" He shrugged the shoulder she was leaning on.
"I guess," she said quietly.
"You wanna stay?" "Can I stay?" they asked each other simultaneously, causing them both to blush.
"C'mere." Ron stood and offered Hermione a hand to do the same. Once she was off the bed, he pulled back the covers and gestured toward the bed with a swipe of his hand and an exaggerated bow. "Ladies first."
Hermione laughed, for what felt like the first time in ages. Giving Ron a playful curtsy before removing her dressing gown to reveal her night dress, she then crawled into his bed and waited for him to join her.
He smiled shyly at her before climbing in, pulling the hangings on his side of the bed closed behind him. He leaned up on his elbow and reached over her prone body for the curtain tie back on the other side, meeting her hand as she reached up at the same time.
"I got it," he whispered, staring into her eyes. Hermione nodded mutely in response, her gaze never leaving his. Once the curtain was closed, Ron continued to hold himself up on one arm, hovering over Hermione. His free hand gently pushed a wayward curl from her face, before travelling down her cheek and brushing her hair off her shoulder and onto the pillow, tracing the line of her collarbone with a long finger.
Hermione's eyes closed as Ron slowly lowered his face to hers. Her breath came in short pants as she waited for the touch of his lips.
And waited.
She could feel his breath against her face, his body pressed against hers, so she knew he was still there; it wasn't a dream.
Slowly she opened her eyes and dared a peek - Ron was staring at her with an odd mix of fear and awe.
"Ron? Is something wrong?"
"It's just that ... well, you're you ... and it's me ... and there's no turning back."
"Do you want to? Turn back, I mean," Hermione asked, her voice weak and shaky.
"Hell no," Ron replied indignantly, his face scrunched up in disbelief at the absurdity of her question.
"Then there's nothing stopping us Ron." Hermione laid her palm on his jaw, her thumb stroking his cheek gently. "Now kiss me." Her hand slid around to the back of his neck and she applied gentle pressure to encourage him to continue.
Ron laughed softly and started to lean forward, before pausing and looking worried again.
"What now?" Hermione tried to keep the impatience from her voice, but she had been waiting years for this.
"I, uh, didn't shave."
Hermione lifted her head until her lips were over his ear. As she ran her bare foot up the back of his pyjama-clad leg, she whispered, "Neither did I."
Ron reached down and wrapped his hand around her ankle, slowing caressing up her leg. He buried his bristly face in her neck and murmured, "I don't mind if you don't."
*~*
Hermione blinked lazily at the early morning sun streaming in through the bedroom window, as she lay curled up on her side, shivering slightly in her sleeveless pyjamas. She wasn't sure how long she had been asleep, but it was obviously still very early. Hermione was rather disappointed to have been pulled out of her dream - she had been reliving the night she and Ron had spent together after the Battle of Hogwarts, finding comfort in each other, discovering each other.
Her eyes had just drifted shut as she tried to will her body to go back to sleep, to take her back to her memories, when she felt a familiar tickle along her bare shoulder.
"Ron?" she croaked groggily.
"Who else would be in your bed?" a familiar voice asked playfully from behind her. Ron placed another kiss on her shoulder, before moving his lips up to her ear. "Should I be worried?"
"You're home early," Hermione sighed as Ron began to nibble on her ear.
"Lucky for you, you're marrying a brilliant Auror. Caught the bastards ahead of schedule."
Hermione reached her arm up behind her to tangle her hand in Ron's hair as he continued feasting on her neck.
"Your hair's wet."
"Showered at the Ministry; smelled like a Troll's arse."
"You didn't shave," she observed breathlessly.
"Nah. I know you like it rough." Ron rolled her over and smiled down at her. "Fuck, how I've missed you."
Hermione met his smile and whispered, "Me too, love, me too." She placed her hands on either side of his stubbly cheeks. "Now kiss me you hairy oaf!"
"Oh, I'm gonna kiss you all right," Ron promised, dragging his scruff across her jaw and down her throat, his fingers already grappling with the hem of her pyjama top.
Hermione Granger lay back amongst her pillows, looked up at the ceiling ... and smiled.
Author: mugglemama
Prompt: #47 Stubble
Pairing(s): Ron/Hermione
Word Count: ~2,640
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Hermione really likes it when Ron doesn't shave
Warnings: No smut! * gasp *
A/N: I am lost without my superbeta undercloakkept and my cheerleader redheadsarehot. Many thanks to both of you; may your dreams be filled with lots of Scruffy!Ron. Written for the Summer Pick-a-Prompt Challenge on hp_canon_fest.
Hermione Granger lay back amongst her pillows, looked up at the ceiling ... and scowled.
She was tired...
And restless...
And extremely frustrated.
She tossed and turned in the large empty bed she usually shared with Ron, but he was away on a mission, going on eleven days now, not to return for at least another three.
Most of all, Hermione was lonely.
She had grown accustomed to having Ron by her side every night; this was the first extended mission he had been on since they moved in together following their engagement six months earlier. Without him there, everything was different...everything was wrong.
One would think she would welcome the quiet, but silence echoed throughout the room in the absence of Ron's comforting snores. You'd think she'd be glad to have the chance to stretch out without his heavy arms holding her in place, yet she found herself unable to occupy any additional space in their bed, going so far as to surround herself in a cocoon of pillows in an effort to pretend he was there.
She missed the feel of his lean body pressed against her back; the tickle of his red-gold hairs along her smooth skin; the delicious sensation of the rough skin of his thumb, calloused from gripping his wand, tracing circles over her bare hip; the gentle scratching of his stubble as he groggily kissed that sigh-inducing spot under her ear every morning. God, how she loved the sensation of his bristly skin under her lips and against her body.
She traced her fingers over her mouth, remembering her first encounter with Ron's unshaven face back in their Fifth Year at Hogwarts, and the strange and frightening reaction it elicited in her.
*~*
All she had wanted to do was distract Ron from the positively awful Slytherins and their rude badges. She wasn't naive enough to think that she alone possessed the power to counteract the bundle of nerves that had taken up residence in Ron's stomach; she merely hoped he would be confused/repulsed/shocked enough that Harry could get him to the pitch without further incident.
Though, if she were being truly honest with herself, she sincerely wished repulsion was not the emotion her unexpected display of affection had garnered in him. It certainly wasn't what she was feeling - far from it in fact.
She pressed shaky fingertips to her mouth, surprised to find it was not hot to the touch, for she was certain her lips were on fire. They certainly still tingled from the contact with the course hairs on Ron's cheek, so light in colour they were invisible unless you were only a hair's breadth away.
It wasn't as if she had never kissed anyone before - just last year she had kissed Harry's cheek when they parted for the summer at King's Cross Station. When she touched her lips to his smooth skin, she wanted to convey comfort and friendship and it had aroused no reaction in her, save something akin to maternal concern.
Unfortunately not even a kiss on the lips, by an older and obviously more experienced man, had elicited feelings like this. Viktor Krum, with his clean-shaven face and overpowering cologne had only confused her. She knew she was supposed to enjoy the experience, but his too-firm grip and over-wet lips made her want to cringe and run away. He was a lovely friend, but his kiss proved to her he would never be anything more.
One touch of her lips to Ron's stubbly face made her feel more excited and more alive than anything else in her sixteen years. She had become accustomed to the fluttering in her stomach from Ron's smile or the accidental brush of his hand, yet this time ... this time was different. The evidence of his physical maturity gave Hermione a very unfamiliar tingle a bit lower than her stomach.
Hermione sighed as she realised the boy she fancied was becoming a man - a man whom she could grow to love.
*~*
Hermione had soon learned it was tradition for the boys on the Gryffindor Quidditch team to forego shaving before a match, giving her yet another reason to look forward to game day.
She certainly enjoyed the sight of a half-asleep, unshaven Ron wandering into the Burrow kitchen each morning that summer after Fifth Year. His fiery hair would be mussed from sleep as he padded into the room, murmuring greetings as he rubbed his tired face. She relished the chance to observe how Ron's beard seemed to change, getting heavier and darker each day, before he would shower and shave.
Of course, not everyone had been as intrigued with Ron's facial hair as Hermione...
*~*
"Morning, Hermione. Have you been to breakfast yet?" Harry asked as he bounded down the stairs from the boys' dormitory.
"Good morning, yes I have. Besides," she said, with a wry smile, "I thought today was your day to dine with Won-Won."
"Hermione," Harry said pleadingly, "why can't we just-"
Whatever Harry was going to say was cut off when a loud squeal filled the common room.
"Won-Won!" Lavender shouted as Ron descended the stairs and she ran to throw her arms around him.
Hermione could have sworn she saw Ron wince at the contact, but she figured it was just wishful thinking.
"Shame on you Won-Won!" Lavender screeched, causing the entire common room to turn their attention to the pair. "You know the rules."
Ron's ears were an alarming shade of red as he tried to hush her. "Calm down, Lavender," he hissed. "What is it I'm supposed to have done this time?"
Harry and Hermione shared an amused glance at Ron's predicament.
"No kissy-kissy if you don't shave," Lavender pouted. "You know I have sensitive skin."
"Oh, I guess I, uh ... forgot," Ron stammered, staring at his feet. "I was up late working on my potions essay, got a late start this morning."
Harry gave Ron a puzzled look over Lavender's shoulder, since he knew that Ron had been up and dressed before him and he had finished his essay for Slughorn before dinner the previous night.
"Well, don't forget again," Lavender reprimanded with a coy smile, walking her fingers up his chest. "You get rid of this," she touched his stubbly cheek, wrinkling her nose in disgust, "and then I can give you a proper good morning kiss." She tapped him playfully on the nose. "I'll be waiting for you downstairs," she said as she turned on her heel and flounced out of the portrait hole.
Harry turned back to Hermione, "I, uh, better go."
"Of course."
Hermione was shocked when Ron suddenly appeared next to Harry. He gave her a silent nod, accompanied by a very small, very sad smile. He had given up trying to talk to her in the weeks since the start of term and she had continued pretending he didn't exist.
Ron turned to Harry as Hermione returned to her book. "Breakfast, mate?"
"Um, sure. Want me to wait?"
"Wait for what? I'm starving."
"Don't you want to go, you know, shave?" Harry asked.
Ron rubbed a large hand over his scruffy face. Hermione gave an involuntary shiver at the scratchy sound, which fortunately neither boy noticed.
"Nah. What for?" Hermione lifted her book a little higher to better hide her smile.
"Your call, mate," Harry said, laughing. "See you in class, Hermione," he called out as they headed toward the exit.
"Goodbye Harry," she replied stiffly. She chanced a glance up from her book and saw Ron watching her from across the room before hanging his head dejectedly and following Harry into the hall.
Three days later Hermione was seated on the edge of Ron's hospital bed, mere hours after his near-fatal dose of poisoned mead. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had gone home to the Burrow, promising to return the next morning, while Harry and Ginny had adjourned to the Common Room after dinner to discuss what to do about replacing their injured Keeper.
Hermione watched Ron's brow furrow as he faced some unknown darkness in his dreams; she stroked a cool hand over his face and he instantly relaxed, sighing contentedly. She let her hand linger on his unshaven cheek, revelling in the way it tickled her palm.
Glad that Madam Pomfrey was otherwise occupied, Hermione leaned forward and whispered into his ear, "I'm so glad you are going to be all right. I hope we can be all right too." Ron turned his head to the sound of her voice and rubbed his cheek against hers, moaning in his sleep and reminding her very much of Crookshanks.
Hermione found she rather liked the scratch of his stubble against her cheek. She blushed as she couldn't help wondering what it would feel like on other parts of her body.
It took over a year for her to find out the answer.
*~*
Hermione chanced a glance at the bedside clock, which told her it was half three in the morning. Punching her pillow for the umpteenth time, she flopped back onto the bed and groaned.
Thinking about the scratch of Ron's rough cheek against her body was not going to help her get some much needed sleep.
Unfortunately, once her thoughts turned to Ron, nothing could pull her away. She closed her eyes and let the memories wash over her.
*~*
Ron left his grieving family in the Great Hall while he escorted a still-stunned Harry back to Gryffindor Tower. After seeing to it that Harry was fed and put to bed, Ron opted for a quick shower to wash the stench of the day's battle from his weary body.
Wandering listlessly into the boys' dormitory, he was startled by the sight of a freshly washed Hermione, clad in her dressing gown, sitting on the edge of his bed watching Harry sleep.
"Hey," he whispered. Nodding toward Harry, he asked, "Is he okay?"
Hermione smiled up at Ron. "He's fine. Peaceful, actually ... if you can believe it."
"Good." Ron made his way across the room and sat on the bed beside Hermione, smiling slightly to himself when she took his large hand between hers and settled them in her lap as she rested her head against his shoulder.
Neither of them spoke for several minutes, as they sat vigil over their sleeping friend, each replaying the horrors of the past year.
Ron finally broke the silence when Hermione yawned widely for the second time. "We should get some sleep, yeah?" He shrugged the shoulder she was leaning on.
"I guess," she said quietly.
"You wanna stay?" "Can I stay?" they asked each other simultaneously, causing them both to blush.
"C'mere." Ron stood and offered Hermione a hand to do the same. Once she was off the bed, he pulled back the covers and gestured toward the bed with a swipe of his hand and an exaggerated bow. "Ladies first."
Hermione laughed, for what felt like the first time in ages. Giving Ron a playful curtsy before removing her dressing gown to reveal her night dress, she then crawled into his bed and waited for him to join her.
He smiled shyly at her before climbing in, pulling the hangings on his side of the bed closed behind him. He leaned up on his elbow and reached over her prone body for the curtain tie back on the other side, meeting her hand as she reached up at the same time.
"I got it," he whispered, staring into her eyes. Hermione nodded mutely in response, her gaze never leaving his. Once the curtain was closed, Ron continued to hold himself up on one arm, hovering over Hermione. His free hand gently pushed a wayward curl from her face, before travelling down her cheek and brushing her hair off her shoulder and onto the pillow, tracing the line of her collarbone with a long finger.
Hermione's eyes closed as Ron slowly lowered his face to hers. Her breath came in short pants as she waited for the touch of his lips.
And waited.
She could feel his breath against her face, his body pressed against hers, so she knew he was still there; it wasn't a dream.
Slowly she opened her eyes and dared a peek - Ron was staring at her with an odd mix of fear and awe.
"Ron? Is something wrong?"
"It's just that ... well, you're you ... and it's me ... and there's no turning back."
"Do you want to? Turn back, I mean," Hermione asked, her voice weak and shaky.
"Hell no," Ron replied indignantly, his face scrunched up in disbelief at the absurdity of her question.
"Then there's nothing stopping us Ron." Hermione laid her palm on his jaw, her thumb stroking his cheek gently. "Now kiss me." Her hand slid around to the back of his neck and she applied gentle pressure to encourage him to continue.
Ron laughed softly and started to lean forward, before pausing and looking worried again.
"What now?" Hermione tried to keep the impatience from her voice, but she had been waiting years for this.
"I, uh, didn't shave."
Hermione lifted her head until her lips were over his ear. As she ran her bare foot up the back of his pyjama-clad leg, she whispered, "Neither did I."
Ron reached down and wrapped his hand around her ankle, slowing caressing up her leg. He buried his bristly face in her neck and murmured, "I don't mind if you don't."
*~*
Hermione blinked lazily at the early morning sun streaming in through the bedroom window, as she lay curled up on her side, shivering slightly in her sleeveless pyjamas. She wasn't sure how long she had been asleep, but it was obviously still very early. Hermione was rather disappointed to have been pulled out of her dream - she had been reliving the night she and Ron had spent together after the Battle of Hogwarts, finding comfort in each other, discovering each other.
Her eyes had just drifted shut as she tried to will her body to go back to sleep, to take her back to her memories, when she felt a familiar tickle along her bare shoulder.
"Ron?" she croaked groggily.
"Who else would be in your bed?" a familiar voice asked playfully from behind her. Ron placed another kiss on her shoulder, before moving his lips up to her ear. "Should I be worried?"
"You're home early," Hermione sighed as Ron began to nibble on her ear.
"Lucky for you, you're marrying a brilliant Auror. Caught the bastards ahead of schedule."
Hermione reached her arm up behind her to tangle her hand in Ron's hair as he continued feasting on her neck.
"Your hair's wet."
"Showered at the Ministry; smelled like a Troll's arse."
"You didn't shave," she observed breathlessly.
"Nah. I know you like it rough." Ron rolled her over and smiled down at her. "Fuck, how I've missed you."
Hermione met his smile and whispered, "Me too, love, me too." She placed her hands on either side of his stubbly cheeks. "Now kiss me you hairy oaf!"
"Oh, I'm gonna kiss you all right," Ron promised, dragging his scruff across her jaw and down her throat, his fingers already grappling with the hem of her pyjama top.
Hermione Granger lay back amongst her pillows, looked up at the ceiling ... and smiled.