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Pressure - Romione (one-shot)

Back at Hogwarts, by NinnyTreeTops (aka thiswontbebigondignity)

Title: Pressure Rating: Hard R/M Rating Warnings: Mentions of magical canaries, Luna’s questions, Ron’s jealousy, and plenty of bits. Featured Characters/Pairings: Hermione/Ron with a side mention of Viktor Krum, Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley, Hannah Abbot, and Dean Thomas. Word Count: 5690 Prompts: Viktor Krum, picture of Gilderoy Lockhart, Hermione’s dorm room

Summary: Hermione slowly learns what qualities she fancies - from a Ravenclaw professor and an International Quiddditch player - and it turns out that it’s a certain ginger haired best friend, who still baffles her.

Author’s note: This one fought me tooth and nail for a while, with Hermione being reticent about what happened that night before she left Ron for school. I had to bribe her with a first edition of Persuasion to get her to relent. My eternal thanks to coyotelaughingsoftly for straightening out the mess known as part three, and to dear rongasm for the fast beta and helping save me from misspelling Parvati’s name right. Between these two brilliant writers, they keep me looking somewhat intelligent.

Written for the hpreunion folks on LJ.

Thanks ladies! - DG

(Livejournal) (Fanfiction)

[Read More line since there is adult content in this!]

Another train ride, another dinner, another listening to Harry and Ron playing chess and exploding snap on the train. Hermione was finally back where she felt she belonged, at school and eagerly awaiting another year’s worth of learning. Dinner was delicious once again, even if it wasn’t much like what Mummy fixed at home.

She sighed and opened the lid on her trunk and saw everything packed meticulously. Unlike Lavender and Parvati who were giggling on their side of the room, Hermione had her space. She appreciated the quiet from her dorm mates even if they would cackle at rather inopportune times.

Lying on top of her folded clothes was the last thing she picked up from Diagon Alley: an autographed Wizarding picture of Gilderoy Lockhart. He was quite dreamy, with soft green eyes and pretty flowing locks. His clothes were tailored and he looked rather dashing. But the stories he told, of taking on Vampires, and banshees and other dark creatures! His first book would be her reading material tonight since she had his class in two days.

She pulled the framed image from her trunk and set it on the dresser next to her bed.

“Hermione, what’s that you have there?”

She turned and saw Lavender walking over to her side of the room. “Oy! Did you get that from Diagon Alley yesterday?”

Hermione smiled gleefully. “I did. I went with my parents and he was there signing his books. I stood in line for two hours to get his signature on each of my school books. Since I got the complete set, I also got this and brought it with me.”

“Oh he’s so fit!” Lavender cooed. “But he’s a teacher now. I don’t know how I’m expected to pay attention in class.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” Hermione said into the quiet.

“Hermione?”

She looked up at Parvati standing behind Lavender.

“Did I read correctly that for Defense Against the Dark Arts, we’re to read all 10 of his books this year?”

“Why, yes, we are. I’ve already read the book Break with a Banshee and tonight I was going to read Gadding with Ghouls. I hope to have most of them read by the time we have his class on Friday.”

“Do you really think that’s necessary so early in the term?”

Hermione knelt down to unpack the rest of her books and stack them according to when she had each of the classes. “Well, I do like to read and plan ahead and get a good start on my studies.”

The other two girls laughed and went back to their side of the room. She heard the faint words of barmy and bookworm but it didn’t stop her from unpacking her trunk and arranging everything in her space just like how she wanted it.

Once her trunk was empty, she looked at the award winning smile in the frame and sighed dramatically.

She couldn’t admit that she had a crush on a Professor. It was uncalled for. But he had such a nice smile. She’d have trouble paying attention in class too, probably. Maybe Ron would help her keep her mind on her studies.

OooOooO

Hermione raced up the stairs to her room and slammed the door as hard as she could. How dare Ron ruin her night! Viktor was nothing short of a gentleman tonight, doting on her like she expected for a ball. She couldn’t hold a candle to Fleur Delacour but that didn’t matter to Viktor. He was interesting, spoke about things at home and at his school and even knew how to dance well. She had such a pleasant time dancing with him, dance after dance after dance. He was light on his feet and well-educated on the aspects of a social gathering that she wasn’t versed in.

And then Ron had to go and make a mess of things.

Hermione sat on her bed and huffed loudly. He had to say such terrible things about her, and Viktor. It didn’t matter than they didn’t talk about the Tournament, or other game related things. He didn’t even talk Quidditch with her. Tonight, out on the floor, she had a ball with him.

And then when she thought things were going quite swimmingly, Ron showed an ugly side.

“If you don’t know,” said Ron scathingly, “I’m not going to tell you.”

Hermione stared at him then at Harry, who shrugged.

“Ron, what –“

“He’s from Drumstrang!” spat Ron. “You – you’re -…. Fraternizing with the enemy, that’s what you’re doing!”

“Don’t be stupid!”

And yet here she was sitting on her bed, wondering how she could have been so stupid to not realize that he was jealous of Viktor. She didn’t know what set him off but he’d frustrated her, enough that she sought out Viktor away from them and tried to put his words out of her head.

She sighed and moved to the front of the vanity next to her bed and worked to pull the myriad of pins out of her hair. She might be at it another hour if she had to do it without magic. She glanced around and saw that Lavender and Parvati hadn’t returned so she pulled her wand and did a tiny accio spell and removed the pins that way.

After the music ended, Viktor took her hand and led her to a quiet alcove off the main hall. They talked a few minutes more, pointedly ignoring the rest of the crowds who were milling around.

“Shall I see you again, Hermione?” he asked in his broken English and his feeble attempt to not butcher her name.

“I’d like that,” she replied quietly. “I’d like that a lot. I had fun tonight. You dance well.”

Viktor took her hand that was in his and put a knuckle to his lips, kissing it gently. “I had fun too. You dance well.”

Hermione blushed and looked at her feet. “I had lessons when I was younger.”

She felt cracked lips brush her cheek once before she looked up at the young man standing in front of her. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He smiled and his face lit up. “May I kiss you goodnight?”

She smiled. “You may,” she whispered.

He leaned in and brushed his lips across hers, barely making contact.

She blushed harder.

“Your cheeks are pretty,” he said before looking at her again. “It looks nice on you.”

“Viktor, it’s time to go,” he heard the voice of Karkaroff in the distance.

The stepped out of the alcove and he took her hand in his. “I shall see you again shortly.” He bent at the waist and bowed to her, kissing her knuckle again.

“Goodnight,” she said to his back as he trudged along the snow covered path towards the ship that was serving as their residence.

Hermione pulled the last strand of hair off of her head and looked in the mirror. She knew what she agreed to when she accepted a kiss from him. It wasn’t the sort for fairy tales but it was a nice kiss, a rather chaste one from him, as far as a first kiss could go.

Too bad it wasn’t from the one she fancied. He was too busy being angry at the one who had asked her first.

OooOooO

Hermione put her wand down on the vanity next to her bed, her hands shaking terribly, while sobs echoed in the dorm. Watching him snog her was the final straw. After everything she did and asked, he turned on her like an ill-tempered cat and proceeded to kiss the dimmest bimbo in the school.

Grief coursed through her veins like the worst poison she could imagine. Watching him snog her was the final straw.

She’d set conjured canaries on him. Nothing worse than he deserved, the bas…

Even in the solitude of her own head, she couldn’t curse his name.

She’d fancied him for years. She’d craved his arms just as long. Now, though, after his bitter betrayal? That childish fantasy was ashes in her mouth, shoved there by his blatant action in front of her.

Harry’s support and comfort were a very cold solace.

He’d been moody and grey, mean and restless for a week now. Even now, deep in grief, she didn’t know what put him in a fit of temper since he refused to talk to her. He wasn’t prone to sulks like Harry was, unlike Harry who could brood well. But getting mad at her, then snogging her in front of everyone was the final straw.

Nausea wafted through her again. He was her friend but that was it. They weren’t dating –

No matter how much you wanted more! A voice screamed at her like the petulant child she was being.

She used magic to hurt one of her best friends. She’d set conjured canaries on him.

His face floated in front of her eyes. Whatever ideas she had for expressing any further interest in him went up in blue smoke the moment he snogged her. Anger burned her, even after all the interest she’d showed him over the last year. She was the one who tried to invite him to the dinner at Slughorn’s office. She was the one who kissed him on the cheek. She was the one who stood by him last year.

Instead, he goes and snogs her.

Him and Her. The venom dripped from those words when she recollected what she saw earlier.

Of course he picked her. She knew how to snog and had a set of breasts that could entice any boy who looked. Stupid boys only see a blushing bosom and that was enough.

Hermione looked down at her jumper and saw that she had none of the gifts that Lavender had. She was ordinary and less-than-average.

He’d turned into just another cad, falling for a pretty smile and a heaving bosom, neither of which she had in the least. Hermione wasn’t the heaving bosom girl. No, she was just loyal and a friend who couldn’t entice anyone for a second glance.

Hermione didn’t bother to wipe the first, second, or third tear that fell down her face.

The one boy, the one she had been fancying for years, had picked the prettier one. It didn’t matter that she’d fought with him, alongside him, or even fought for him. No, the only thing that mattered to Ron Weasley was a girl who had ambition and acted upon it. He only cared for most empty headed bint in the entire school.

“I’m nothing more than a friend, if that.” An icy chill bounced down her spine. She felt her heart break again. The poison she felt gripped her tight, squeezing any feelings of unrequited love out of her. The pining she held for years was there, but it was a ragged hole in her chest, bleeding inside.

Hermione felt a lurch and she ran to the bathroom. She just made it to a toilet stall before she emptied the contents of her stomach. Left behind was nothing but cold rage, at both of them, and for everyone in the common room who hooted and hollered in triumph for Ron and at her humiliation.

Once her stomach settled, she walked to the sink and used a flannel on her face and cheeks. Shame bounced around her head along with nagging self-doubt. Revulsion took over.

If he’s snogging her, why am I still pining after him? He made his choice and it wasn’t me. It was for a strumpet with a set of F breasts who obviously knows her way to a boy’s heart.

She looked in the mirror and barely recognized herself. She knew her shame, attacking him with magic. Sure, he broke her heart. But attacking him with magic because he was chose someone else, someone not her?

She’d lost her best friend because she was afraid of losing him.

“It’s what you deserve, waiting on him to get a thumb out.”

Hermione felt the last vestiges of her crush burning up in her heart before winking out into non-existence. All that was left were cold ashes in her soul.

She crawled into her bed and set the covers around it, warding it further from intrusion. No one else would see her cry tonight over Ron Weasley. Hermione wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

OooOooO

Her duty was finished, making sure that everyone was safely aboard the train. Hermione stepped into the carriage where she would be riding for the 8 hour trip to Hogwarts. In there was Ginny, Luna, Hannah Abbott, along with Dean Thomas. Dean declined the Minister’s offer, stating that he felt like he needed the additional year of education and he’d been traumatized enough by witnessing the murder of others.

These last year students were probably going to be her circle of friendly acquaintances for the year, but she still lacked her closest friends. But they were off at the Ministry, training to be Aurors.

She sat down on the bench and pointed her wand at the door, locking it from the inside.

“Hermione, you’re walking funny. Is that because Ron made love to you longer than you were physically comfortable last night? I heard a thud that shook the walls of the house. Was that you receiving an orgasm from Ronald?

Ginny spit out her pumpkin juice she’d been drinking. Hannah bit her fist to keep from laughing out loud. Dean fell into Luna, snickering at her comment.

“Luna, that’s not something you talk about in pleasant company.” The mortification on her face was a giveaway that Luna had been too observant for her own good.

“Oh, I was curious since I heard you last night in my room. I can only presume that was Ronald giving you considerable pleasure. From the sounds I heard since my room is directly over yours, I would extrapolate that you passed out from it.”

The others in the compartment chuckled while Hermione turned a vivid shade of scarlet.

“The noise coming from my floor sounded quite energetic, like he was flying his broom all over your room. Was he flying a broom in the room? How would that be accomplished since the rooms aren’t that big, certainly nothing like a Quidditch pitch” Luna looked at Dean and Ginny. “Would you mind sharing what did happen last night?”

Hermione turned even darker red. “Luna, why should I tell you what Ron does for me behind closed doors?”

“Oh, I was just curious.”

OooOooO

Hermione stepped into her new room and looked around. This was what she had been working towards for seven years. “No, eight years,” she said to herself. “Ron was right. But then he’s right about so many things.”

She looked at the double bed with heavy curtains, wardrobe with her trunk sitting in front of it, and the desk that would be perfect for her to work at. There was also one comfortable chair, along with a hassock for Crookshanks, sitting in front of a fireplace. Hermione pointed her wand at the wood stacked in it and felt the warmth once the fire was going.

Too bad the ginger she wanted couldn’t come with her on this trip. His duty was to George, and to Harry, for the time being. They chose this, for the betterment of both.

Hermione felt the burn behind her eyes and willed herself not to cry again.

OooOooO

The conversations fractured shortly thereafter. Hannah departed from their compartment to make her Prefect rounds while Ginny and Dean discussed Quidditch. Luna was off in her own little world while Hermione shoved her nose in a book, one she found discussing Ancient Runes and Arithmancy theory.

“Hermione?”

“Hmmm,” she said to affirm she heard the witch across from her.

“Would you mind sharing what you do to give Ronald pleasure? I’d like to try out some of your suggestions on Dean shortly.” Luna looked at him and smiled softly. “Sex with him is quite enjoyable and rather pleasurable but I’d like to make him as content as you keep Ronald. Tell me, do you stimulate his perineum while engaging in fellatio? Do you use your fingers in –“

Hermione turned Gryffindor Crimson at Luna’s inquiries.

“Luna! I will not talk with you about Ron while we’re sitting here like this. It’s –“

“The books I’ve looked in couldn’t answer my questions. I asked Ginny but she knows less than I do and cannot help me in my quest for this particular bit of knowledge. I thought you’d be willing to share, not be reticent to answer. I thought that after everything we’ve been through and seen it’s not like any of us have any secrets left. Don’t friends answer one another’s questions when they have a problem?”

Hermione dropped her book when she stood up and dashed from their shared compartment, making the loo without showing the shame dripping down her face. Once the door was closed and she’d sealed the compartment, she fell apart and bawled at the loss of Ron by her side.

She’d been apart from him for two hours but the rent in her heart for Ron was already hurting painfully.

OooOooO

A warm fuzzy kneazle wrapped around her legs, pulling her from the memories that still make her hurt.

“I thought you’d be out prowling.”

Bright gold eyes looked up at her before winding around her legs again.

“I’ll be ok, unless you want to get a shower with me before bed.”

Crookshanks tail fuzzed up before walking towards the door and looking back at her. Mreow.

“I didn’t think you’d want that. You hate showers, unlike the other ginger in my life. Enjoy prowling the castle.” Hermione let him out to go find a rogue mouse for dinner. She closed it behind him and collapsed into the comfortable chair.

Immediately, the loneliness took hold. Her breath caught and she shoved the heels of her hands into her closed eyes to hold back the tears again. But behind her closed eyelids, her favorite shade of blue eyes swam into focus.

OooOooO

Strong hands worked down her body, tracing the lines left behind this past year. Each fleck of his tongue burned her, drove her mad with want. Each caress on her body warmed her. “Gonna fuckin’ miss you,” he muttered into the crevice between her breasts. “Gonna be shite without you in our bed.”

Ron squeezed one of her small breasts between his long fingers before feasting on the other one. She arched up under his touch and catalogued it with the various ones that would have to keep her satiated for weeks. “More,” she moaned before threading her fingers into his locks.

“Begging already?” She could hear the mirth in his voice. “Barely touched your tits and you’re already gagging for me.”

“Shut it,” she growled and felt him press her harder into the mattress beneath her body. “Quit teasing me.”

She shoved her fingers into the middle of his back, right under the shoulder blades, and raked her fingers down his back. Hermione squealed when he bit her nipple a touch too hard and felt him laughing into her skin. “Sorry, Love.” Ron used his mouth to soothe the sting on her tormented nipple before sliding further down her body. “Didn’t expect you to claw my back,” he chuckled.

Hermione moved up the bed and propped up on her elbows while spreading her legs wide for his lean hips and wider shoulders. She’d never admit it to anyone else, but watching Ron between her legs, his ginger hair in contact to her brown curls, was one of her guilty pleasures.

“What are you doing?” Ron asked from a spot on her thighs.

“Watching you,” she purred back. She lifted her hips, hoping to entice him to pay attention to that particular part of her body.

“Well, stop, that’s weird.” He bit his favorite spot on her thigh, right next to her quim.

She wiggled and squirmed under his touch but felt her growing ardour for the man between her thighs. “Ron?”

He looked up from her body to her face. His eyes were darker, full of lust and love for her. One eyebrow told her he was waiting for her to say what was on her mind.

“Make me pass out tonight.”

Ron looked befuddled. “What, like pissed on Firewhiskey pass out? I dunno if we have any in the house.”

“No, not like that,” she said in a deep and sultry voice. Her face turned a bright shade of red. He saw the mortification on her face and grinned.

OooOooO

Hermione rolled onto her side in the chair, feeling the warmth of the fireplace washing over her.

OooOooO

“Tell me what you want, and how you want it, and I’ll do it.”

Ron waited for her to reply but his answer was silence. He turned his face back to the bitemark on her thigh and added a matching one next to it. “I reckon you’ll get tired of me biting on you and beg me for what you really want.”

He nipped her other thigh, leaving another contusion she’d find the next morning.

Seconds passed and she hadn’t said a word so he turned back to her other thigh and sucked on the tender skin of her hip, leaving another mark. “I can do this all night, all night with you squirming under my fingers. Tell me what you want and I’ll do it. Use those words I love to hear.”

Hermione muttered something so softly he couldn’t discern what she said. “Say it louder. I can’t hear you.” Ron looked up from her very excited body and froze her with a look. “I want to hear those disgusting things from your mouth, Hermione. You might be prim and proper outside of this room but in here and it’s just us? Tell me what you want. No more games between us unless it’s Quidditch or chess.”

Ron watched her steel her courage to say what bawdy thing she truly wanted. He shivered with gleeful anticipation.

Her face turned redder, if that was possible, before blurting out, “Fuck me so hard I pass out. Make me scream so loud my parents hear me in Hampstead Garden Suburb.”

The last words tripped off her lips before his crashed into hers, making her hips buck into his nose. Her head fell back on the pillow while he used his fingers and tongue to drive her mad with want. The coil in her belly tightened further, and harder, and faster than she’d ever experienced. Hermione curled her legs up in the air while the burning tension became painful. Each moan punctuated his attentive ministrations, driving her towards the figurative cliff.

Ron!

Strong arms pinned her hips back down onto the mattress while he continued to work on her tender flesh. “Not done yet, love,” Ron muttered from just above her mound. “You asked.”

Her body shuddered and quivered and yet he kept going. Her hands scrabbled over his scarred arms but he held her down, keeping her from breaking his face. She felt another spasm start and radiate from her core out towards her fingers. Moans erupted from her lips while she arched her back so hard all that was left on the bed was her hips and her head. Through it all, he continued to give her magnitudes of bliss.

He was relentless, making her body move in ways that would guarantee her to be sore walking to the train and regretting that she chose to finish her formal education.

OhFuckRon!

She fell back into the bedclothes and convulsed with each touch of his finger on her bundle of over-stimulated nerves. Every touch was copper conduction coursing through her entire body, giving her another spasm. Hermione collapsed onto the bed and fought to breathe. “Oh fuck,” she breathed in litany. Other coarse epithets that never passed her lips dripped from her mouth in a rude choral verse.

She felt wet lips kissing her passionately and she opened her mouth, taking in his tongue still flavored with her essence. His tongue probed her mouth like it had in her quim just seconds prior.

“Ready?” he whispered across her lips while he shifted on the bed above her. A vague rustling of the bedclothes did nothing to bring Hermione out of the fog she was in. “Keep talking.”

“Yes,” she whispered into the room.

He slid home and let her savor the moment before her joined her in the pleasure they shared. “Shite,” he groaned in bliss, “you feel so good tonight.” He waited heartbeats until Hermione opened her eyes, unfocused and quite glassy. She reached for his arse and squeezed his cheeks in her small hands and he started rocking his hips against hers, feeling her paroxysm. “Not gonna last, love. You’re too good tonight.”

“You promised,” she cried out during an intense spasm. She raked her nails down his back to give him another reminder as well.

“I did,” he pulled her further down the bed and closer to his body. He worked quickly, lifting a leg up against his body while the other lay prone on the bed. He thrust again in the new position and she gasped, stifling her breath.

“Better?” he asked while thrusting into her body.

She took a deep hissing breath and felt it catch. Ron moved and she felt a spasm and shuddered under him.

“Yeah, I reckon you’d like that.” He thrust again, hitting that one spot that made her breath catch and her mouth form the shape while she was giving him oral pleasure. He couldn’t decide what he enjoyed watching most: the way her mouth spewed fragments of words that only made sense to him, the way her tits wobbled over her chest from his thrusts, or that her body took everything he gave her, without reservation. Quidditch was now second place to being buried bollocks deep in Hermione.

He added another finger to her nub and watched her eyes roll back in her head. “Blimey, you’re hot when you do that,” he grunted and lifted her hips even more. Each powerful thrust slid her up the bed and gave a friction on her back to counteract the spasms between her legs. “Come on, love. No one in Hampstead Garden Suburb can hear you yet.” Ron thrust and then ground his hips against her. “Use those big fucking words I love hearing.” He thrust hard before pulling softly from her. “Tell me how much you love fucking me.”

Hermione reached her hand out for the headboard and lifted her shoulders off the bed. She thrashed her head in the rumpled bedclothes, groaning loud enough to be heard next door.

“I love you,” she moaned, “so fucking much.”

Hermione arched her back even further when she felt him hit one particular spot. Her moan echoed through the room and she clamped down on him exquisitely hard. “Oh shite,” she groaned before she fell limp into the bedclothes.

He held her for dear life, thrusting into her languid body. Once, twice, thrice before he seized up and felt his life pouring out into her. Once his arms gave out, he collapsed onto her, barely avoiding knocking heads.

“Shitefuckhell,” he uttered between pants into the bedclothes. “I won’t survive cuming any harder than that.”

Ron lifted his head and opened an eye and looked at his lover. She looked so exquisite, shagged out and it was his fault. “Well, you did ask for it.” He pulled his arm from under his cooling body and put a large hand on her breast, tweaking a nipple gently. She didn’t stir.

“Fuck, gotta wake her the magical way.” He reached over to the bedside table and groped for his wand, finding it immediately. He moved it to his other hand and pointed it at her chest. Rennervate, he spoke and she woke with a start, sitting upright in their bed while taking a deep breath.

“There you are,” He cheeked.

“Did I?”

“Yeah. You said shite and passed out. It was bloody amazing.”

“I didn’t say that word. I don’t say that.”

“Well, you did.” Ron grinned at her, the one he only shared with her in moments like this. “I heard you loud and clear.”

“I said no such thing,” she remarked with a dirty look.

“Deny it all you want, but you said so many filthy things. I can fuel my Patronus for months with what you said.”

“You’re barking mad.” Hermione rolled over onto her other side to avoid his smirk. “I don’t say those things.”

Ron pulled her close to his overheated body and let her bask in the warmth. “Face it. I’ve corrupted you and I love it.” Ron tucked his nose into the crook of her neck and dropped soft kisses on her skin. “No one would believe me anyway if I told’em.”

OooOooO

Knock, Knock, Knock.

Hermione woke with a start. She’d fallen asleep in the chair without getting dressed for bed. A look at her watch told her that it was half eleven on their first night back at school.

No wonder why I’m exhausted. Between Ron last night keeping me awake much of the night and now aching for him, I’m knackered.

It might be the only way I can sleep tonight since he’s not here to snore in my ear.

She wiped her face and plastered a stoic look on before opening the door to her room. Standing there in the Gryffindor common room was an uncommon person.

“Luna, how did you get in here? You shouldn’t be here.”

“Yes, that’s pretty obvious, even for you. I will, however, answer your question. I was upstairs with Dean, letting him fornicate me before retiring to my own bed tonight.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “What can I do for you tonight?”

Luna turned her head towards the boys’ stairwell and looked up. “I spoke with Dean and Ginny after dinner and they said that my questions when we were on the train were uncomfortable for you. I didn’t know you were upset from my inquiries.”

Hermione stepped out and closed the door behind her. “You couldn’t know since we’ve not spoken to one another since the first week of May.”

“But you’re my friend and I shouldn’t treat you that way.” Luna looked back up the stairs. “I should have asked those questions when no one else was around. I didn’t know how upset you were since Ronald didn’t return to school with us.”

“I understand. Ron and Harry took the Minister’s offer to go directly into the Aurors. Just like I have my duty to the school this year, he has his, to his family and to the Ministry.”

Luna looked rumpled from earlier, if what she said was true. “Do you want me to stay the night with you, and keep you company? I doubt I can snore as well as Ron does, unfortunately.”

“No, that’s fine.” Hermione grinned. “I’ll be ok by myself tonight. Enjoy your walk tonight.”

“Alright, if you’re sure, then I’ll go back to my bed.” She took a step and stopped. “This common room is warmer than ours. I might have to visit more often. I don’t like being cold anymore.”

Hermione watched Luna stroll towards the door of the Common room and let herself out. She was still baffled how Luna got into their common room. Maybe a meeting with the Headmistress about Luna’s ease of access would be a wise idea. Then again, how many times had Harry, along with Ron and herself, gotten into places they weren’t supposed to go?

Harry. She missed him but he wasn’t her responsibility and duty anymore. Tears still fell for her best friend, but also her boyfriend and lover. This year was going to be painfully lonely, if it was anything like tonight.

Hermione closed the door again so no one could see the painful rent in her heart. She didn’t want anyone, save Ginny, knowing how much she would loathe her bed without Ron in it. But she needed to get ready for bed, even if it was cold and rather empty. She’d have no comforting snores in her ears tonight to lull her to sleep. She’d have no strong arms holding her to make her feel safe in bed tonight. She’d certainly not have any prominent displays of manhood nudging her bum half the night. She’d not wake to being rogered while her half-asleep lover thrust into her.

She finished washing her face and left her hair for in the morning. She was too knackered to tackle it tonight before she fell asleep at the wash basin in her en suite.

She changed clothes for bed, pulling out the stolen garments from the drawer. Her only solace for bed was an old natty jumper with an R woven into the front, along with a pair of his old sleeping trousers. His smell would have to suffice these next few weeks when his fingers were far, far away.

She crawled under the chilled covered and shuddered while trying to stifle another round of tears. Now, her memories of last night will have to be her comfort for the next few weeks.

Hermione closed her eyes and drifted back to the night before.

OooOooO

Ron rolled back over her body and nudged her knees apart. “Already,” she inquired while half asleep.

“Yes, already. It’s eleven. You told me to wake you in an hour.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

“You did,” while he used his large hands to open her hips even wider, contorting her in ways that were only for his benefit.

He slid inside her warmth and stopped until she was comfortable.

“Ron?”

He bowed his back so he could kiss her lips again. “Yes, love?”

“Can we take our time, this time? I need this to last a while.”

“Yes, love,” he whispered across her lips before moving softly in and out of her.

Hermione drifted off to sleep, remembering Ron’s touch on her body.

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