Together (NC-17)
Title: Together
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,478
Summary: Ron juggles working at WWW, helping the Order, supporting George and loving Hermione.
Warning: Tall redhead with a very big wand (not really a warning, just a yummy image), Drunken surly George acting like an arse.
Author's Note: Written for redheadsarehot based on her prompts at rhr_smutfest. Thanks to my beta urbanmama1 and the rhr_smutfest mods for their help and patience.
I'm toying with the idea of writing a second chapter -- the morning after. I can't help wondering if Ron and George need some closure. Thoughts?
People might be surprised to learn that Hermione Granger is not compulsively tidy. In fact, she's more than willing to let the washing up sit (for an hour or two at least) when she's in the middle of a particularly engaging book. While she prefers to make her bed every morning, if there's a lanky redhead sprawled across her rumpled sheets, she is happy to leave him nestled in the mess. And if said redhead tosses clothes on the floor - particularly after peeling them off her body - she's unlikely to scold him for his slovenliness, rather she'll actively engage in the disrobing and save the tidying up for later.
But if she's nervous or anxious... Well, it's an entirely different story. When Hermione Granger is worried, she cleans - with a vengeance. Not a single dust mote will escape her wrath when she's stressed. She doesn't employ magical cleaning methods either, just good old-fashioned Muggle scrubbing. This character trait might explain her consistent - and completely unnecessary - polishing of the goblin-made Sword of Gryffindor (though the presence of a certain sword-wielding ginger may have also played a role).
In the almost two years since the demise of Voldemort (which coincided with the 'official' beginning of her romantic relationship with Ron), the perpetual knot of fear that had lived in her chest since the age of twelve had finally loosened. However, on occasion, it retied itself so tightly she felt she would suffocate from it.
This was one of those times...
Ron was out on a mission with the reconstituted Order of the Phoenix. Even though he turned down both the chance to return to Hogwarts and repeated offers to join the Aurors in order to live with George and work at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Ron was determined to help make certain the Magical world was safe from dark wizards. Kingsley Shacklebolt wasn't certain the Ministry was entirely clear of Dark Lord sympathisers so he welcomed the assistance of experienced trusted people, like Ron and Neville Longbottom, to work in an unofficial capacity to aid in the tracking and arrest of fugitive Death Eaters.
Hermione was an expert at finding ways to distract herself when Ron was out with the Order. On this night, she dealt with Ron's assignment by working late, clearing her desk and those of two co-workers before heading home to reorganise her bookshelves by genre. She had just been contemplating whether her copy of 'Charm Your Own Cheese' (a gift from Mrs. Weasley) should be included under Charms or Cookbooks when a silvery wisp swirled at her feet, transforming quickly into a yapping terrier. Ron's Patronus informed her that he was fine, his mission had been successful and he'd see her the next day. Such a message should have set Hermione's nerves at ease, instead she choked back a sob, grabbed her wand and Apparated to Ron's bedroom in the flat over WWW.
Because Ron never said "See you tomorrow," he always visited her flat after a mission for a good night kiss, at the very least. In anticipation of his arrival, Hermione had already changed into her tightest vest and a faded pair of Chudley Cannon boxers she had won off Ron in a game of strip chess. There was only one time he had failed to show up after an Order assignment - when he was injured and didn't want her to know.
This knowledge sent Hermione to Ron's flat in a fit of panic. When she arrived to find it empty, she did the only thing she could do - wait...
And clean.
Hermione picked Ron's dirty clothes off the ground and put the clean ones away, organising his sock drawer in the process; she polished his bookshelf, dusting and alphabetising all twenty-two books residing there (seventeen of which were hers); she changed his sheets and made the bed. She was fifteen seconds away from using Ron's Cleansweep to actually sweep the floor when she heard the door to the flat bang open, accompanied by a muffled swear. Hermione rushed to the front room, trying to decide if she was going to smother Ron with kisses - or a pillow. She stopped in her tracks when she realised it was not the Weasley she was waiting for who was standing in front of her.
"Try not to look so disappointed, Granger," George slurred, a caustic sneer on his once jovial face. It was immediately clear he was both drunk and surly, a condition everyone had thought he had finally left behind.
"Sorry. I'm waiting for Ron-"
"He's on a mission," George interrupted, his voice softening slightly.
"No, no, he's alright," Hermione said quickly, addressing George's unspoken fear. "He sent a Patronus. I was just expecting him to stop by..."
"For a little slap and tickle," George volunteered, looking over Hermione's body slowly and deliberately, a definite lecherous look in his eye. Hermione was instantly reminded of how little she was wearing.
"I'll just wait for Ron in his room..." Hermione turned to go but was stopped by a firm hand wrapped around her forearm.
"Wait, Granger. I mean -" George's grip eased slightly. "Hermione." He said her name quietly as she turned back around.
"Yes?" Hermione watched George's hand trail slowly up her bare arm, biting back her anger and confusion. "You've been drinking, stop it," she said weakly, trying unsuccessfully to shake off his touch.
"You always were the clever one," he snorted, as he took a step closer. "You look really good tonight, by the way."
Hermione narrowed her eyes, allowing her outrage to shine through; George didn't seem to notice. If he did, he certainly didn't seem to care.
"If you ever need a real man..." George trailed off, sliding a finger over the curve of her bare shoulder.
Enough was enough.
"How dare you?" Hermione smacked his hand away in disgust. "I'll have you know Ron is more man than you'll EVER be!"
"Pfft." George rolled his eyes and laughed. "You're telling me ickle Ronnikins is a good ride?"
"You're disgusting," Hermione hissed. "There's more to being a man than sex."
"That just proves you're having bad sex," George countered.
Hermione crossed her arms and, staring at George defiantly, said, "Not that it's any of your concern, but that aspect of our relationship is very satisfying. I cannot believe, that after all Ron's done for you, you stand here and-"
"I've never asked him to do anything for me!" George shouted.
"That's just it - you didn't have to ask Ron ... it's part of who he is - selflessly taking care of those he loves - that is what makes him a real man!"
"Stop your bloody screeching already." George waved Hermione away dismissively. "Just go wait in the other room, I'm sure your lap dog will be home soon."
"You utter bast-"
"I don't need anyone's hand me downs," he shouted over her, "- not Ron's, and certainly not Fred's!"
"Fred? What does he have to do with anything?"
George didn't get the chance to answer Hermione (though it's unlikely he would have) because at that moment the door to the flat opened.
Ron stepped inside and looked curiously between his brother and his love. "Everything all right here?"
Neither George nor Hermione answered. They simply continued to stare at each other, the tension and hostility between them filling the air.
"Hermione," Ron tried again, "I wasn't expecting to see you here ... not that I'm not thrilled, mind you." Testing the waters, he chanced a small smile in her direction.
"Are you injured? Have you been hurt?" Hermione asked abruptly, her eyes narrowing at Ron suspiciously.
"Uh... no," he replied cautiously.
She gave him a sharp nod, releasing the slightest sigh of relief as she did so, before heading down the hall toward his room in an obvious temper.
Ron was torn between going after Hermione and figuring out what was the matter with George - Ron hadn't seen him this badly off in quite a while. As George started rummaging through the sideboard, pulling out a bottle of Ogden's, Ron made his choice. He only hoped Hermione wouldn't be too angry with him...
After tossing his cloak on the hook by the door, Ron followed George into the lounge, where he threw himself down into the chair by the fireplace. He said to George with a grin, "Wonder if I gave her the right answer."
George didn't respond. He filled a glass with the Firewhiskey and proffered it to Ron. Ron waved off George's offering as he bent to untie his boots. At Ron's refusal, George snorted and mumbled, "Didn't think you could handle it" and drained the glass in one gulp.
"Thought you were going out with Lee and Angelina tonight?" Ron asked, staring at his now bare feet as he wiggled them in front of the fire. George decided to forego pouring himself another glass, choosing instead to drink straight from the bottle.
"Lee didn't show..." His voice trailed off as he took another swig, not even registering the burn of the alcohol as he swallowed.
"So it was just you and Ange then, eh?"
"None of your fucking business!"
Ron instantly raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry, sorry, I just wondered-."
"Well you can stop; no need to tax that ickle brain of yours."
"Alright," Ron mumbled, refusing to react the George's baiting.
"If you're done playing at being an Auror-"
"I wasn't playing," Ron said quietly to himself.
"-I need you to open the shop tomorrow."
"It's supposed to be my day off! Between the shop and all these missions lately, I'm exhausted." Ron wasn't about to admit to his drunken brother that he was also looking forward to spending the day with Hermione.
"Fine, if you're too much of a lazy arse to get out of bed, then the shop will just stay closed tomorrow."
"It's Saturday," Ron protested, "our busiest day. Why can't you do it?"
"Because I don't bloody want to! You promised that your so-called 'heroics' with the Order wouldn't interfere with your work at the Wheezes - guess I really can't count on you for anything after all..."
"No, no, it's alright... I'll do it," Ron relented, pushing himself out of his seat with a heavy sigh. As he headed toward his room, his head hung defeatedly, Ron heard George shout, "And don't you even think about fucking being late, you bloody wanker!"
Ron no sooner had closed the door to his room than he was accosted by his angry girlfriend.
"Are you certain you're all right?" she demanded as she pinned him to the door with a shaky finger digging into his chest.
" 'M fine." Ron lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm before placing it over his heart, covering her hand with his own.
Hermione let the tension slip from her body as she leaned against him, wrapping her arms tightly around his trim waist. "Why didn't you want to come over tonight? I started to think the worst."
He ran a hand slowly up and down her back, holding her flush against him. "Kingsley asked me to stay to observe the interrogation," he explained. "I didn't mean to worry you, I just I didn't know how long it would take. I figured we'd have all day tomorrow..." Ron could feel Hermione stiffen in his arms and he realised she must have heard George's demand that Ron work the next day. He laid a gentle kiss on her temple in apology.
"Kingsley offered you a position with the Aurors again, didn't he?"
"Yeah," he admitted.
"What'd you tell him?" she asked, even though she knew the answer.
"Told him I'd think about it." Hermione sighed and placed a kiss against Ron's chest, snuggling in tighter against him.
Unable to wait any longer, Ron asked the question that had been plaguing him since he arrived home. "Hermione, what was going on with George when I came home?"
"It was nothing," she said, her voice muffled by his shirt.
"Didn't look like nothing," Ron pointed out. "In fact, things seemed pretty intense."
"He's been drinking. You know how unpleasant he can be when he's had too much." She finally loosened her hold enough to pull back and look up to meet his eyes. "I thought he was doing so much better lately."
"Yeah, yeah, he is, or rather he was... I don't know really." Ron sighed and his usually bright features darkened with concern for his brother. "I wish I knew what set George off tonight. He said Lee didn't show so it was just him and Angelina - they usually get on really well..."
"Angelina? Hmm, I wonder..."
"Wonder what?" Ron asked when Hermione didn't continue. "Hermione?" Ron prompted.
"Um, just something he said..." Hermione hesitated, wary of where this conversation could lead. She knew George's comments would upset Ron but hated to think what would happen if Ron learned George had touched her or looked at her so lewdly. It wouldn't matter how drunk George was or what his motivations were, Ron would never forgive his brother. Yet Hermione could not bear the thought of lying to Ron…
"I-I think maybe something happened between George and Angelina." Hermione stammered, swallowing hard before continuing. "He made some comment about not needing anyone's hand-me-downs. Not Fred's and not ... yours," she finished in a whisper.
"My hand-me-downs?" Ron asked, his voice oddly calm. Hermione had braced herself for the explosion of Ron's temper; his composed reaction actually frightened her more than his screams would have.
"Did he say anything else?" Ron stared into Hermione's eyes and saw her reluctance - that was all the answer he needed. He turned around and fumbled for the handle on the door before she could even formulate a response. Hermione grabbed at his arm and wedged herself between him and the exit from the room.
"Move aside, Hermione," Ron said gruffly.
"Ron stop! He didn't mean anything by it - he's pissed."
"Move. Now." Ron's voice came out low and fierce. He reached around her body, searching for the doorknob.
"Why? So you can fight with your brother?"
"No, so I can kill him," Ron calmly explained.
"Ron, be reasonable..." Hermione pleaded. She could feel the muscles in his arms quivering with tension when she reached up to restrain him. "It's not that big a deal. George says horrible things to you all the time," she reasoned.
"That's completely different!" Ron let out a frustrated sigh as he ran a shaky hand through his already mussed up hair.
"How? How is it different?" Hermione demanded.
"It just is... It's just me."
Hermione quickly moved her hands from his biceps to either side of his face, pulling him closer. Resting his forehead against hers, she whispered, "Exactly. It is you ... no one is more worthy of respect. George doesn't appreciate all you've sacrificed for him..."
"Hermione." Ron tried to turn his head away but she held him in place. Hermione could feel the heat of his embarrassment burning under her hands as his face flushed at her words.
"You've been living your life for others since you were eleven … what about what you want?"
"I have everything I want," he whispered into her neck, as he buried his flushed face against her, too embarrassed to meet her eyes. "Right here," he added, placing an open-mouth kiss on her pulse point.
They stood that way for a moment, just holding one another. Hermione breathed deeply as she rubbed her cheek against Ron's soft hair while he gently nuzzled her throat.
"Ron?" Hermione's voice trembled slightly as she tried to keep her train of thought - a rather difficult task with Ron's hands now tracing lazy circles on her body, moulding her softness against his hard form.
"Hmmm?" Ron brushed his long nose against Hermione's shoulder, his full bottom lip dragging softly over her skin.
"Promise me you'll really think about Kingsley's offer this time?"
Ron stood up a little straighter so he could see her face more clearly. "All right," he relented, "if it's important to you."
She shook her head slightly, willing him to understand. "It's important for you."
He leaned forward with his hands on the door, framing her head, and sighed. "If I do this, I'll be out in the field a lot more than I am now with the Order."
"I know," she said with a shaky breath, "I can manage."
"Well, one thing's for certain," he added with a spark of mischief in his eyes, "I won't have to waste any time tidying up my room anymore."
"Git." Hermione laughed, smacking his shoulder. "As if you ever did!"
Ron blinked with mock innocence. "I'll have you know that 'mess' was intentional. It took quite a bit of effort to arrange those clothes on the floor to get the proper effect." He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "After all, I had to make it look like I actually sleep here on occasion - in case Mum drops in."
"Ah, an excellent point," Hermione conceded, smiling.
Ron reached over his shoulder and drew his shirt over his head, tossing it behind him where it dropped in a heap. "See, more cosy already."
"Mmmm yes, much better." Hermione ran her hands over Ron's now bare shoulders and down his chest, smiling appreciatively. "You do realise, you wouldn't have to worry about convincing your mother of your sleeping arrangements if you officially lived with me?" Hermione placed tender kisses over Ron's torso as she spoke.
"Really?" Ron whispered, surprise evident in his voice.
"Really," she insisted, with a final kiss over his heart.
"Blimey, Hermione." He braced himself with one hand against the door behind Hermione's head, the weight of her suggestion catching him off guard. "That would be... I mean… Cor, I don't know what to say-"
"Shhhh." Hermione circled one of Ron's nipples with the tip of her fingernail. "You can place it on the list of things you'll think about." She raked her nails lightly through the smattering of course ginger hair on his torso, causing Ron to groan with approval. Tugging lightly at the thicker patch just above his trouser's waistband, she added, "But not now, no more thinking."
"There's something I never thought I'd hear you say."
Hermione's reproach caught in her throat as Ron's mouth met hers. At first, it was simply a caress - soft teasing back and forth. He drew her bottom lip between his and sucked gently; Hermione moaned against his mouth in response.
With one hand still braced behind her, his other lightly stroked up her bare arm - leaving a path of shivers on her skin. Cradling Hermione's face, Ron whispered, "I love you."
"I love you," Hermione replied firmly, her hands resting on his bristly cheeks. "So very much."
Burying her fingers in his flaming hair, Hermione urged Ron forward to kiss her. Gone was the gentle teasing of earlier, as they each gave in to their passion. Hermione revelled in the seemingly incongruent feelings of surrender and power that blended together within her whenever she was in Ron's arms.
Ron fisted his one hand in Hermione's hair, holding her in place. There was nothing rough in his movements, nothing domineering - just a subtle control of the kiss. The thumb of his right hand brushed tenderly over the tip of Hermione's breast, the teasing passes causing her to squirm with frustration. Hermione had a fleeting thought that this was the dichotomy of Ron Weasley: visceral strength combined with thoughtful gentleness.
Ron's hand slid to lift the hem of Hermione's vest, the closeness of their bodies making it difficult to manoeuvre the fabric.
"Here, let me," Hermione said breaking away reluctantly from Ron's kiss, her voice breathless and husky.
Ron stood back panting as Hermione wriggled out of her top, his hands clenching at his sides as if he itched to help. They both laughed as Hermione tossed her top across the room, where it landed in a heap next to Ron's bed.
Ron hesitated as he reached for his wand to cast the customary Muffliato that George had insisted they use as a condition of Ron's continued presence in the flat. "Let him suffer. Worst that can happen is he kicks me out," Ron teased with an exaggerated waggle of his brows, causing Hermione to laugh even harder.
Ron's eyes suddenly grew feral as he watched Hermione's bare breasts shake with her laughter. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath before cupping one in his hand and bending down to take it into his mouth. "Oh God," Hermione groaned, banging her head on the door as she tossed it back in ecstasy.
"You okay?" Ron asked around a mouthful of breast.
"Yes, fine," she reassured him. "Just don't stop."
Ron chuckled softly as he kissed his way across her chest. "You feel so fucking good," he murmured into the skin on the underside of her breast before pulling her hardened nipple into his mouth.
"So do you," Hermione sighed squeezing the bulge straining Ron's trousers gently, "So do you."
Her nimble fingers made quick work of his fastenings, pushing his open trousers over his hips and down to pool around his ankles. She couldn't contain her laugh at the sight of his erection poking through the opening of his boxers, bobbing slightly as it pointed directly at her.
"Easy access," Ron commented with a quirk of his eyebrow. He pressed his hand against the front of the threadbare pair of his boxers Hermione wore. "Opening's rather helpful, yeah?" Ron slipped his middle finger through the front slit, rubbing over her knickers with ever-increasing pressure. He nudged the satin aside and easily slid two fingers inside her. Hermione instinctively moved her hips in time with Ron's hand, her own hand stroking his cock with the same rhythm.
"Mmmm, that's good … just like that," Ron moaned.
"Ron," Hermione sighed breathlessly against his lips, teetering on the edge of climax. "More…"
"More what?"
"More you." Hermione released him and began grappling with the waistband of his pants.
Ron groaned in response, helping Hermione shove his boxers off. He hissed as his pants grazed over the sensitive bell-end of his penis. Kicking his discarded pants and trousers aside, Ron reached out to assist Hermione in removing the rest of her clothes. Once she had one leg freed from her bottoms, he instantly lifted her leg up high over his hip, leaving her knickers dangling from her ankle.
"You want more, eh?" Ron angled his body so that his cock slid over Hermione's swollen clit as he rubbed against her. "You can have it all."
"Yes, please," Hermione practically begged. With his hands gripping her arse, Ron lifted her slight body. As he thrust deep inside her, they both moaned in relief.
Hermione wrapped her legs tightly around Ron's trim waist, her heels digging into his arse in an effort to pull him in deeper. The knickers hanging from her foot swung wildly as they moved frantically against each other. When she tried to shake the knickers free, her jerky movements increased the friction between their bodies, prompting Ron to drive his body even harder into hers.
"That enough, Hermione?" he grunted. "Still need more?"
Hermione could only whimper incoherently in response as her climax overtook her. Pressing her shoulders against the door for leverage, Hermione ground herself against Ron, prolonging her release.
"Think we might … break the door," Ron panted.
"That's what Reparo is for," she countered breathlessly.
Ron laughed, the sound deeper and huskier than usual. Strengthening his hold on Hermione's body, he stepped back away from the door, eliciting a squeal of surprise from Hermione.
Without further comment, Ron lifted Hermione until only the tip of his penis remained inside her, then he slammed her back down as he thrust upward. The intense sensation had Hermione almost immediately on the brink of another orgasm - she loved the feeling of Ron so deep inside her, filling her completely.
"Again," Hermione urged, gripping his shoulders and arching her back, trying to ride Ron's cock while he suspended her in mid-air.
"Shit woman, you're gonna kill me." Despite his unconvincing protest, Ron continued to move her over his body with unrestrained power.
Hermione's cries grew louder and more unintelligible with each thrust until she climaxed with an almost violent shudder.
"Fuck!" Ron groaned as Hermione's body clenched tightly around him. With a few more powerful strokes Ron came with a guttural shout.
His arms and legs quivering under the strain of holding up both bodies, Ron stumbled back the few steps to his bed. He collapsed in a heap with his legs hanging over the edge, Hermione's limp body draped over him.
"We should clean ourselves up," Hermione eventually commented, making no effort to move.
"Yeah, s'pose so," Ron agreed, tracing random patterns on Hermione's bare back.
"It's getting late."
"Yep." Ron felt Hermione shiver lightly and noted that her skin felt chilled. Reluctantly he started to sit up. "C'mon, to bed with you."
"Noooo," she whinged.
Ron ignored her protests and rolled her off his body so he could get off the bed. He scanned the room for his wand, eventually finding it sticking out of his discarded trousers. As he made his way back to the bed, he became aware of Hermione watching him intently.
"What?" he asked self-consciously, his ears reddening under her scrutiny.
"Nothing," she said. Despite their recent exertion, Ron could feel his arousal growing as Hermione's gaze drifted slowly over his naked body. He distracted himself by using his wand to clean and freshen their bodies.
"You were amazing tonight," Hermione said with a satisfied smile, stretching cat-like across the bed.
"Couldn't've done it without you," he rejoined, earning him an exasperated sigh from Hermione.
"Here you are," Ron pulled down the duvet and patted the bed in invitation, "nice and clean."
Hermione got to her hands and knees and crawled up from the foot of the bed. Ron absentmindedly stroked his hardening cock as he watched her breasts sway as she moved toward him. "Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath as she turned to give him a view of her lush arse before she buried herself under the bedding.
"Wake me in an hour so I can take you again," Ron said as climbed into bed behind her.
"How 'bout I take you next time," Hermione suggested, snuggling into the circle of Ron's arms.
"Even better."
They lay silently for a moment before Ron whispered into Hermione's hair, "I love you, Hermione."
"Mmmm," she moaned sleepily. "Love you too."
"I'll talk to George, I'll work things out," he promised.
"We'll work things out," she said, rubbing her cheek against his chest, "together."
Together.
Ron liked the sound of that.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,478
Summary: Ron juggles working at WWW, helping the Order, supporting George and loving Hermione.
Warning: Tall redhead with a very big wand (not really a warning, just a yummy image), Drunken surly George acting like an arse.
Author's Note: Written for redheadsarehot based on her prompts at rhr_smutfest. Thanks to my beta urbanmama1 and the rhr_smutfest mods for their help and patience.
I'm toying with the idea of writing a second chapter -- the morning after. I can't help wondering if Ron and George need some closure. Thoughts?
People might be surprised to learn that Hermione Granger is not compulsively tidy. In fact, she's more than willing to let the washing up sit (for an hour or two at least) when she's in the middle of a particularly engaging book. While she prefers to make her bed every morning, if there's a lanky redhead sprawled across her rumpled sheets, she is happy to leave him nestled in the mess. And if said redhead tosses clothes on the floor - particularly after peeling them off her body - she's unlikely to scold him for his slovenliness, rather she'll actively engage in the disrobing and save the tidying up for later.
But if she's nervous or anxious... Well, it's an entirely different story. When Hermione Granger is worried, she cleans - with a vengeance. Not a single dust mote will escape her wrath when she's stressed. She doesn't employ magical cleaning methods either, just good old-fashioned Muggle scrubbing. This character trait might explain her consistent - and completely unnecessary - polishing of the goblin-made Sword of Gryffindor (though the presence of a certain sword-wielding ginger may have also played a role).
In the almost two years since the demise of Voldemort (which coincided with the 'official' beginning of her romantic relationship with Ron), the perpetual knot of fear that had lived in her chest since the age of twelve had finally loosened. However, on occasion, it retied itself so tightly she felt she would suffocate from it.
This was one of those times...
Ron was out on a mission with the reconstituted Order of the Phoenix. Even though he turned down both the chance to return to Hogwarts and repeated offers to join the Aurors in order to live with George and work at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Ron was determined to help make certain the Magical world was safe from dark wizards. Kingsley Shacklebolt wasn't certain the Ministry was entirely clear of Dark Lord sympathisers so he welcomed the assistance of experienced trusted people, like Ron and Neville Longbottom, to work in an unofficial capacity to aid in the tracking and arrest of fugitive Death Eaters.
Hermione was an expert at finding ways to distract herself when Ron was out with the Order. On this night, she dealt with Ron's assignment by working late, clearing her desk and those of two co-workers before heading home to reorganise her bookshelves by genre. She had just been contemplating whether her copy of 'Charm Your Own Cheese' (a gift from Mrs. Weasley) should be included under Charms or Cookbooks when a silvery wisp swirled at her feet, transforming quickly into a yapping terrier. Ron's Patronus informed her that he was fine, his mission had been successful and he'd see her the next day. Such a message should have set Hermione's nerves at ease, instead she choked back a sob, grabbed her wand and Apparated to Ron's bedroom in the flat over WWW.
Because Ron never said "See you tomorrow," he always visited her flat after a mission for a good night kiss, at the very least. In anticipation of his arrival, Hermione had already changed into her tightest vest and a faded pair of Chudley Cannon boxers she had won off Ron in a game of strip chess. There was only one time he had failed to show up after an Order assignment - when he was injured and didn't want her to know.
This knowledge sent Hermione to Ron's flat in a fit of panic. When she arrived to find it empty, she did the only thing she could do - wait...
And clean.
Hermione picked Ron's dirty clothes off the ground and put the clean ones away, organising his sock drawer in the process; she polished his bookshelf, dusting and alphabetising all twenty-two books residing there (seventeen of which were hers); she changed his sheets and made the bed. She was fifteen seconds away from using Ron's Cleansweep to actually sweep the floor when she heard the door to the flat bang open, accompanied by a muffled swear. Hermione rushed to the front room, trying to decide if she was going to smother Ron with kisses - or a pillow. She stopped in her tracks when she realised it was not the Weasley she was waiting for who was standing in front of her.
"Try not to look so disappointed, Granger," George slurred, a caustic sneer on his once jovial face. It was immediately clear he was both drunk and surly, a condition everyone had thought he had finally left behind.
"Sorry. I'm waiting for Ron-"
"He's on a mission," George interrupted, his voice softening slightly.
"No, no, he's alright," Hermione said quickly, addressing George's unspoken fear. "He sent a Patronus. I was just expecting him to stop by..."
"For a little slap and tickle," George volunteered, looking over Hermione's body slowly and deliberately, a definite lecherous look in his eye. Hermione was instantly reminded of how little she was wearing.
"I'll just wait for Ron in his room..." Hermione turned to go but was stopped by a firm hand wrapped around her forearm.
"Wait, Granger. I mean -" George's grip eased slightly. "Hermione." He said her name quietly as she turned back around.
"Yes?" Hermione watched George's hand trail slowly up her bare arm, biting back her anger and confusion. "You've been drinking, stop it," she said weakly, trying unsuccessfully to shake off his touch.
"You always were the clever one," he snorted, as he took a step closer. "You look really good tonight, by the way."
Hermione narrowed her eyes, allowing her outrage to shine through; George didn't seem to notice. If he did, he certainly didn't seem to care.
"If you ever need a real man..." George trailed off, sliding a finger over the curve of her bare shoulder.
Enough was enough.
"How dare you?" Hermione smacked his hand away in disgust. "I'll have you know Ron is more man than you'll EVER be!"
"Pfft." George rolled his eyes and laughed. "You're telling me ickle Ronnikins is a good ride?"
"You're disgusting," Hermione hissed. "There's more to being a man than sex."
"That just proves you're having bad sex," George countered.
Hermione crossed her arms and, staring at George defiantly, said, "Not that it's any of your concern, but that aspect of our relationship is very satisfying. I cannot believe, that after all Ron's done for you, you stand here and-"
"I've never asked him to do anything for me!" George shouted.
"That's just it - you didn't have to ask Ron ... it's part of who he is - selflessly taking care of those he loves - that is what makes him a real man!"
"Stop your bloody screeching already." George waved Hermione away dismissively. "Just go wait in the other room, I'm sure your lap dog will be home soon."
"You utter bast-"
"I don't need anyone's hand me downs," he shouted over her, "- not Ron's, and certainly not Fred's!"
"Fred? What does he have to do with anything?"
George didn't get the chance to answer Hermione (though it's unlikely he would have) because at that moment the door to the flat opened.
Ron stepped inside and looked curiously between his brother and his love. "Everything all right here?"
Neither George nor Hermione answered. They simply continued to stare at each other, the tension and hostility between them filling the air.
"Hermione," Ron tried again, "I wasn't expecting to see you here ... not that I'm not thrilled, mind you." Testing the waters, he chanced a small smile in her direction.
"Are you injured? Have you been hurt?" Hermione asked abruptly, her eyes narrowing at Ron suspiciously.
"Uh... no," he replied cautiously.
She gave him a sharp nod, releasing the slightest sigh of relief as she did so, before heading down the hall toward his room in an obvious temper.
Ron was torn between going after Hermione and figuring out what was the matter with George - Ron hadn't seen him this badly off in quite a while. As George started rummaging through the sideboard, pulling out a bottle of Ogden's, Ron made his choice. He only hoped Hermione wouldn't be too angry with him...
After tossing his cloak on the hook by the door, Ron followed George into the lounge, where he threw himself down into the chair by the fireplace. He said to George with a grin, "Wonder if I gave her the right answer."
George didn't respond. He filled a glass with the Firewhiskey and proffered it to Ron. Ron waved off George's offering as he bent to untie his boots. At Ron's refusal, George snorted and mumbled, "Didn't think you could handle it" and drained the glass in one gulp.
"Thought you were going out with Lee and Angelina tonight?" Ron asked, staring at his now bare feet as he wiggled them in front of the fire. George decided to forego pouring himself another glass, choosing instead to drink straight from the bottle.
"Lee didn't show..." His voice trailed off as he took another swig, not even registering the burn of the alcohol as he swallowed.
"So it was just you and Ange then, eh?"
"None of your fucking business!"
Ron instantly raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry, sorry, I just wondered-."
"Well you can stop; no need to tax that ickle brain of yours."
"Alright," Ron mumbled, refusing to react the George's baiting.
"If you're done playing at being an Auror-"
"I wasn't playing," Ron said quietly to himself.
"-I need you to open the shop tomorrow."
"It's supposed to be my day off! Between the shop and all these missions lately, I'm exhausted." Ron wasn't about to admit to his drunken brother that he was also looking forward to spending the day with Hermione.
"Fine, if you're too much of a lazy arse to get out of bed, then the shop will just stay closed tomorrow."
"It's Saturday," Ron protested, "our busiest day. Why can't you do it?"
"Because I don't bloody want to! You promised that your so-called 'heroics' with the Order wouldn't interfere with your work at the Wheezes - guess I really can't count on you for anything after all..."
"No, no, it's alright... I'll do it," Ron relented, pushing himself out of his seat with a heavy sigh. As he headed toward his room, his head hung defeatedly, Ron heard George shout, "And don't you even think about fucking being late, you bloody wanker!"
Ron no sooner had closed the door to his room than he was accosted by his angry girlfriend.
"Are you certain you're all right?" she demanded as she pinned him to the door with a shaky finger digging into his chest.
" 'M fine." Ron lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm before placing it over his heart, covering her hand with his own.
Hermione let the tension slip from her body as she leaned against him, wrapping her arms tightly around his trim waist. "Why didn't you want to come over tonight? I started to think the worst."
He ran a hand slowly up and down her back, holding her flush against him. "Kingsley asked me to stay to observe the interrogation," he explained. "I didn't mean to worry you, I just I didn't know how long it would take. I figured we'd have all day tomorrow..." Ron could feel Hermione stiffen in his arms and he realised she must have heard George's demand that Ron work the next day. He laid a gentle kiss on her temple in apology.
"Kingsley offered you a position with the Aurors again, didn't he?"
"Yeah," he admitted.
"What'd you tell him?" she asked, even though she knew the answer.
"Told him I'd think about it." Hermione sighed and placed a kiss against Ron's chest, snuggling in tighter against him.
Unable to wait any longer, Ron asked the question that had been plaguing him since he arrived home. "Hermione, what was going on with George when I came home?"
"It was nothing," she said, her voice muffled by his shirt.
"Didn't look like nothing," Ron pointed out. "In fact, things seemed pretty intense."
"He's been drinking. You know how unpleasant he can be when he's had too much." She finally loosened her hold enough to pull back and look up to meet his eyes. "I thought he was doing so much better lately."
"Yeah, yeah, he is, or rather he was... I don't know really." Ron sighed and his usually bright features darkened with concern for his brother. "I wish I knew what set George off tonight. He said Lee didn't show so it was just him and Angelina - they usually get on really well..."
"Angelina? Hmm, I wonder..."
"Wonder what?" Ron asked when Hermione didn't continue. "Hermione?" Ron prompted.
"Um, just something he said..." Hermione hesitated, wary of where this conversation could lead. She knew George's comments would upset Ron but hated to think what would happen if Ron learned George had touched her or looked at her so lewdly. It wouldn't matter how drunk George was or what his motivations were, Ron would never forgive his brother. Yet Hermione could not bear the thought of lying to Ron…
"I-I think maybe something happened between George and Angelina." Hermione stammered, swallowing hard before continuing. "He made some comment about not needing anyone's hand-me-downs. Not Fred's and not ... yours," she finished in a whisper.
"My hand-me-downs?" Ron asked, his voice oddly calm. Hermione had braced herself for the explosion of Ron's temper; his composed reaction actually frightened her more than his screams would have.
"Did he say anything else?" Ron stared into Hermione's eyes and saw her reluctance - that was all the answer he needed. He turned around and fumbled for the handle on the door before she could even formulate a response. Hermione grabbed at his arm and wedged herself between him and the exit from the room.
"Move aside, Hermione," Ron said gruffly.
"Ron stop! He didn't mean anything by it - he's pissed."
"Move. Now." Ron's voice came out low and fierce. He reached around her body, searching for the doorknob.
"Why? So you can fight with your brother?"
"No, so I can kill him," Ron calmly explained.
"Ron, be reasonable..." Hermione pleaded. She could feel the muscles in his arms quivering with tension when she reached up to restrain him. "It's not that big a deal. George says horrible things to you all the time," she reasoned.
"That's completely different!" Ron let out a frustrated sigh as he ran a shaky hand through his already mussed up hair.
"How? How is it different?" Hermione demanded.
"It just is... It's just me."
Hermione quickly moved her hands from his biceps to either side of his face, pulling him closer. Resting his forehead against hers, she whispered, "Exactly. It is you ... no one is more worthy of respect. George doesn't appreciate all you've sacrificed for him..."
"Hermione." Ron tried to turn his head away but she held him in place. Hermione could feel the heat of his embarrassment burning under her hands as his face flushed at her words.
"You've been living your life for others since you were eleven … what about what you want?"
"I have everything I want," he whispered into her neck, as he buried his flushed face against her, too embarrassed to meet her eyes. "Right here," he added, placing an open-mouth kiss on her pulse point.
They stood that way for a moment, just holding one another. Hermione breathed deeply as she rubbed her cheek against Ron's soft hair while he gently nuzzled her throat.
"Ron?" Hermione's voice trembled slightly as she tried to keep her train of thought - a rather difficult task with Ron's hands now tracing lazy circles on her body, moulding her softness against his hard form.
"Hmmm?" Ron brushed his long nose against Hermione's shoulder, his full bottom lip dragging softly over her skin.
"Promise me you'll really think about Kingsley's offer this time?"
Ron stood up a little straighter so he could see her face more clearly. "All right," he relented, "if it's important to you."
She shook her head slightly, willing him to understand. "It's important for you."
He leaned forward with his hands on the door, framing her head, and sighed. "If I do this, I'll be out in the field a lot more than I am now with the Order."
"I know," she said with a shaky breath, "I can manage."
"Well, one thing's for certain," he added with a spark of mischief in his eyes, "I won't have to waste any time tidying up my room anymore."
"Git." Hermione laughed, smacking his shoulder. "As if you ever did!"
Ron blinked with mock innocence. "I'll have you know that 'mess' was intentional. It took quite a bit of effort to arrange those clothes on the floor to get the proper effect." He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "After all, I had to make it look like I actually sleep here on occasion - in case Mum drops in."
"Ah, an excellent point," Hermione conceded, smiling.
Ron reached over his shoulder and drew his shirt over his head, tossing it behind him where it dropped in a heap. "See, more cosy already."
"Mmmm yes, much better." Hermione ran her hands over Ron's now bare shoulders and down his chest, smiling appreciatively. "You do realise, you wouldn't have to worry about convincing your mother of your sleeping arrangements if you officially lived with me?" Hermione placed tender kisses over Ron's torso as she spoke.
"Really?" Ron whispered, surprise evident in his voice.
"Really," she insisted, with a final kiss over his heart.
"Blimey, Hermione." He braced himself with one hand against the door behind Hermione's head, the weight of her suggestion catching him off guard. "That would be... I mean… Cor, I don't know what to say-"
"Shhhh." Hermione circled one of Ron's nipples with the tip of her fingernail. "You can place it on the list of things you'll think about." She raked her nails lightly through the smattering of course ginger hair on his torso, causing Ron to groan with approval. Tugging lightly at the thicker patch just above his trouser's waistband, she added, "But not now, no more thinking."
"There's something I never thought I'd hear you say."
Hermione's reproach caught in her throat as Ron's mouth met hers. At first, it was simply a caress - soft teasing back and forth. He drew her bottom lip between his and sucked gently; Hermione moaned against his mouth in response.
With one hand still braced behind her, his other lightly stroked up her bare arm - leaving a path of shivers on her skin. Cradling Hermione's face, Ron whispered, "I love you."
"I love you," Hermione replied firmly, her hands resting on his bristly cheeks. "So very much."
Burying her fingers in his flaming hair, Hermione urged Ron forward to kiss her. Gone was the gentle teasing of earlier, as they each gave in to their passion. Hermione revelled in the seemingly incongruent feelings of surrender and power that blended together within her whenever she was in Ron's arms.
Ron fisted his one hand in Hermione's hair, holding her in place. There was nothing rough in his movements, nothing domineering - just a subtle control of the kiss. The thumb of his right hand brushed tenderly over the tip of Hermione's breast, the teasing passes causing her to squirm with frustration. Hermione had a fleeting thought that this was the dichotomy of Ron Weasley: visceral strength combined with thoughtful gentleness.
Ron's hand slid to lift the hem of Hermione's vest, the closeness of their bodies making it difficult to manoeuvre the fabric.
"Here, let me," Hermione said breaking away reluctantly from Ron's kiss, her voice breathless and husky.
Ron stood back panting as Hermione wriggled out of her top, his hands clenching at his sides as if he itched to help. They both laughed as Hermione tossed her top across the room, where it landed in a heap next to Ron's bed.
Ron hesitated as he reached for his wand to cast the customary Muffliato that George had insisted they use as a condition of Ron's continued presence in the flat. "Let him suffer. Worst that can happen is he kicks me out," Ron teased with an exaggerated waggle of his brows, causing Hermione to laugh even harder.
Ron's eyes suddenly grew feral as he watched Hermione's bare breasts shake with her laughter. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath before cupping one in his hand and bending down to take it into his mouth. "Oh God," Hermione groaned, banging her head on the door as she tossed it back in ecstasy.
"You okay?" Ron asked around a mouthful of breast.
"Yes, fine," she reassured him. "Just don't stop."
Ron chuckled softly as he kissed his way across her chest. "You feel so fucking good," he murmured into the skin on the underside of her breast before pulling her hardened nipple into his mouth.
"So do you," Hermione sighed squeezing the bulge straining Ron's trousers gently, "So do you."
Her nimble fingers made quick work of his fastenings, pushing his open trousers over his hips and down to pool around his ankles. She couldn't contain her laugh at the sight of his erection poking through the opening of his boxers, bobbing slightly as it pointed directly at her.
"Easy access," Ron commented with a quirk of his eyebrow. He pressed his hand against the front of the threadbare pair of his boxers Hermione wore. "Opening's rather helpful, yeah?" Ron slipped his middle finger through the front slit, rubbing over her knickers with ever-increasing pressure. He nudged the satin aside and easily slid two fingers inside her. Hermione instinctively moved her hips in time with Ron's hand, her own hand stroking his cock with the same rhythm.
"Mmmm, that's good … just like that," Ron moaned.
"Ron," Hermione sighed breathlessly against his lips, teetering on the edge of climax. "More…"
"More what?"
"More you." Hermione released him and began grappling with the waistband of his pants.
Ron groaned in response, helping Hermione shove his boxers off. He hissed as his pants grazed over the sensitive bell-end of his penis. Kicking his discarded pants and trousers aside, Ron reached out to assist Hermione in removing the rest of her clothes. Once she had one leg freed from her bottoms, he instantly lifted her leg up high over his hip, leaving her knickers dangling from her ankle.
"You want more, eh?" Ron angled his body so that his cock slid over Hermione's swollen clit as he rubbed against her. "You can have it all."
"Yes, please," Hermione practically begged. With his hands gripping her arse, Ron lifted her slight body. As he thrust deep inside her, they both moaned in relief.
Hermione wrapped her legs tightly around Ron's trim waist, her heels digging into his arse in an effort to pull him in deeper. The knickers hanging from her foot swung wildly as they moved frantically against each other. When she tried to shake the knickers free, her jerky movements increased the friction between their bodies, prompting Ron to drive his body even harder into hers.
"That enough, Hermione?" he grunted. "Still need more?"
Hermione could only whimper incoherently in response as her climax overtook her. Pressing her shoulders against the door for leverage, Hermione ground herself against Ron, prolonging her release.
"Think we might … break the door," Ron panted.
"That's what Reparo is for," she countered breathlessly.
Ron laughed, the sound deeper and huskier than usual. Strengthening his hold on Hermione's body, he stepped back away from the door, eliciting a squeal of surprise from Hermione.
Without further comment, Ron lifted Hermione until only the tip of his penis remained inside her, then he slammed her back down as he thrust upward. The intense sensation had Hermione almost immediately on the brink of another orgasm - she loved the feeling of Ron so deep inside her, filling her completely.
"Again," Hermione urged, gripping his shoulders and arching her back, trying to ride Ron's cock while he suspended her in mid-air.
"Shit woman, you're gonna kill me." Despite his unconvincing protest, Ron continued to move her over his body with unrestrained power.
Hermione's cries grew louder and more unintelligible with each thrust until she climaxed with an almost violent shudder.
"Fuck!" Ron groaned as Hermione's body clenched tightly around him. With a few more powerful strokes Ron came with a guttural shout.
His arms and legs quivering under the strain of holding up both bodies, Ron stumbled back the few steps to his bed. He collapsed in a heap with his legs hanging over the edge, Hermione's limp body draped over him.
"We should clean ourselves up," Hermione eventually commented, making no effort to move.
"Yeah, s'pose so," Ron agreed, tracing random patterns on Hermione's bare back.
"It's getting late."
"Yep." Ron felt Hermione shiver lightly and noted that her skin felt chilled. Reluctantly he started to sit up. "C'mon, to bed with you."
"Noooo," she whinged.
Ron ignored her protests and rolled her off his body so he could get off the bed. He scanned the room for his wand, eventually finding it sticking out of his discarded trousers. As he made his way back to the bed, he became aware of Hermione watching him intently.
"What?" he asked self-consciously, his ears reddening under her scrutiny.
"Nothing," she said. Despite their recent exertion, Ron could feel his arousal growing as Hermione's gaze drifted slowly over his naked body. He distracted himself by using his wand to clean and freshen their bodies.
"You were amazing tonight," Hermione said with a satisfied smile, stretching cat-like across the bed.
"Couldn't've done it without you," he rejoined, earning him an exasperated sigh from Hermione.
"Here you are," Ron pulled down the duvet and patted the bed in invitation, "nice and clean."
Hermione got to her hands and knees and crawled up from the foot of the bed. Ron absentmindedly stroked his hardening cock as he watched her breasts sway as she moved toward him. "Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath as she turned to give him a view of her lush arse before she buried herself under the bedding.
"Wake me in an hour so I can take you again," Ron said as climbed into bed behind her.
"How 'bout I take you next time," Hermione suggested, snuggling into the circle of Ron's arms.
"Even better."
They lay silently for a moment before Ron whispered into Hermione's hair, "I love you, Hermione."
"Mmmm," she moaned sleepily. "Love you too."
"I'll talk to George, I'll work things out," he promised.
"We'll work things out," she said, rubbing her cheek against his chest, "together."
Together.
Ron liked the sound of that.