Trying to keep her face as steady as possible, which was difficult considering the flush that she felt spreading down to her neck, Hermione pressed her lips together and cleared her throat. "Ron," she said, aiming for a serious tone, although the fact that she couldn't seem to make eye contact with Ron at all diluted the effect. "The both of us have just, in front of each other, taken our pants off. Which... I don't know about you, but I can't remember the last time I've done that in front of another person, and certainly not for this. So... I think laughing's the only thing to do." Biting down on her lower lip once more, Hermione pressed a peck against Ron's lips before dissolving into giggles again, reaching over for the condom packet before sliding over to the head of the bed again and laying on her side
( ... )
His kisses were growing clumsy, Hermione noticed, although the observation was one which made her smile into the kiss, something inherently pleasing about the fact. In truth, she knew that she probably wasn't actively doing all that much to please him- she wouldn't even have known where to start, really- but the idea that they could find something which felt good together, through a joint effort, made her feel closer to him than perhaps she ever had before. And suddenly, she found that she was having a difficult time keeping calm through the kiss as well, her breath shaky as it slipped through their lips, a moan muffled as she leaned up to deepen the kiss, hand lingering by his jaw
( ... )
Maybe Hermione didn't think she was doing much when it came to pleasing him, but even just her hand on his back and on his backside was enough to drive him mad. Somewhere on the edge of this thoughts, Ron worried that he wasn't doing much for Hermione either, that the way his kisses weren't quite landing on their marks anymore was putting her off a bit. But that was before she breathed his name and touched his arm again and it was all he could do not to finish right then because of it.
Ron buried his face in his hair for a second as he moved- he'd always liked Hermione's hair, even when it was all mussed like it was right then- and tried to keep his pace steady, though it was more difficult than he thought it'd be. It had been easy to imagine all this, but the reality was a bit more complicated than he'd expected. Feelings and sounds and god, Hermione's breath near his ear made it better than just imagining it, loads better,
"Hermione," he managed, nearly breathless, "Hermione, I think I'm going to-"
Harry was ecstatic. Rapture had been creepy, terrifying, dark and dank and exactly as much deathly danger as Harry had grown accustomed to. But it was also amazing, the feeling of that power coursing through his veins. It wasn't the same as magic; both he and Billy agreed on that. But it was close enough. It was close enough and dangerous enough that Harry ran all the way back home, eager to share his adventures with his two best friends
( ... )
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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Ron buried his face in his hair for a second as he moved- he'd always liked Hermione's hair, even when it was all mussed like it was right then- and tried to keep his pace steady, though it was more difficult than he thought it'd be. It had been easy to imagine all this, but the reality was a bit more complicated than he'd expected. Feelings and sounds and god, Hermione's breath near his ear made it better than just imagining it, loads better,
"Hermione," he managed, nearly breathless, "Hermione, I think I'm going to-"
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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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