The sheets were rucked under Hermione's thigh, the folds pressing against her skin, and somehow, it mattered. Hermione's hand desperately smoothed out the rumpled sheets, as though working towards perfection on every level as her lips continued to seek Ron's out, her tongue brushing along his lower lip, her voice soft and caught in her throat as she did her best to keep calm. Inevitably, the effort was futile, and even as Ron tried to turn away from the contact, Hermione's hands immediately traveled to the front of his trousers, slipping the button deftly and pulling down the zipper until she was able to coax his trousers down so that they hung loosely about his hips. Where caution might have otherwise been, adrenaline had Hermione's heart beating on high and her reservations torn to shreds as she gasped again, breaking the kiss suddenly as her fingers teased under his waistband, feeling his heated skin and feeling that hers could only be more so, every limb of her body feeling warm, almost uncomfortably so. Movements coming to a halt
( ... )
Perhaps under any other circumstances, Hermione would have noticed the sound of steps as they trailed into the hut. But all other sounds seemed to drown out under her own breath, which grew ragged, uneven, and strained as Ron spoke, his voice close to the shell of her ear. One hand grabbed his shoulder more solidly, the other lingering by his back, and Hermione did her best to rock her hips in time with his, feeling more of the tension slip away as the two seemed to find a rhythm. (Truth be told, it wasn't that enjoyable for her yet, but Hermione knew that certain things required practice, and certainly had expected that this would be one of them.)
But the sound of the door opening immediately snapped her back to attention, and Harry's voice following sent Hermione straight into a state of alarm. "Oh my god, Harry-"
Desperately, she reached out for sheets, for fabric, for anything that could cover the both of them as she slid away and sat, eyes meeting Harry's for a couple of seconds with unspoken apologies. And panic
( ... )
Unsurprisingly, Ron hadn't heard the door open either, or the sound of footsteps as they approached, more focused on pretty much everything else: trying to keep his rhythm steady, trying to hold off for another moment or two... at least until Hermione tensed up and called out Harry's name instead of his.
Ron's eyes snapped open and he frowned, about to say something, until he realized Hermione was looking past him and towards the door. She hadn't gotten mixed up or something in the middle of it all, Harry had actually walked in.
"Bloody hell," Ron said, pulling the bedsheet up to his neck, even though Harry had already gone and slammed the door behind him. His heart had been racing before, but in a good way, then. Now, it was only because of sheer and complete bloody panic. Eyes wide, he stared at the closed door for a long, silent moment before he said anything else.
Her cheeks were red, flushed, too warm to be comfortable and her thoughts so dizzying that she thought that she might be sick. The last thing she wanted to believe was that she'd caused this, caused a rift between the three of them which had the potential of growing greater, not because any of them cared for each other any less, but simply because there were certain lines that couldn't be crossed by the three of them at once. Burying her face in her hands again, Hermione heaved a breath, tempted to groan in frustration, but if she didn't know what to do in this situation, chances were Ron didn't either.
"He just stood there for five seconds and then ran in the other direction as fast as he could," Hermione clarified, quickly sliding off the bed and looking for her clothes, strewn as they probably were on the ground. "Of course he saw. I can't believe this, I just- I really can't."
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But the sound of the door opening immediately snapped her back to attention, and Harry's voice following sent Hermione straight into a state of alarm. "Oh my god, Harry-"
Desperately, she reached out for sheets, for fabric, for anything that could cover the both of them as she slid away and sat, eyes meeting Harry's for a couple of seconds with unspoken apologies. And panic ( ... )
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Ron's eyes snapped open and he frowned, about to say something, until he realized Hermione was looking past him and towards the door. She hadn't gotten mixed up or something in the middle of it all, Harry had actually walked in.
"Bloody hell," Ron said, pulling the bedsheet up to his neck, even though Harry had already gone and slammed the door behind him. His heart had been racing before, but in a good way, then. Now, it was only because of sheer and complete bloody panic. Eyes wide, he stared at the closed door for a long, silent moment before he said anything else.
"Do you- do you think he saw?"
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"He just stood there for five seconds and then ran in the other direction as fast as he could," Hermione clarified, quickly sliding off the bed and looking for her clothes, strewn as they probably were on the ground. "Of course he saw. I can't believe this, I just- I really can't."
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