The Wedding

When Hermione finally joined the others in the living room, her mind was quite preoccupied. She had no idea what most of what the Order members had been talking about, but she knew one thing for sure. It involved Snape, and if it involved Snape, it had to have involved Malfoy. The thought angered her-Snape had killed Dumbledore! How could the Order still be helping him? Something that was more confusing to Hermione was that Snape seemed to be helping the Order as well…who else but the Potions master could have prepared the Wolfbane potion? It was the exact same that he had prepared for Professor Lupin in her third year, and now he was preparing it for Bill Weasley. It was an immensely complicated potion, and no amateur could have accomplished it. And Hermione knew that while there were other wizards skilled at potions in the Order, none were as adept as Snape.

Ron glanced over at her as she sat. She’s got something on her mind…I wonder what it is? He thought to himself. It would be brilliant if it was me-Merlin knows that she’s all that’s been on my mind lately. He grinned inwardly-she had been all that he could think about, and she probably knew that. What she probably didn’t know was exactly how he had been thinking about her. But he was a young and healthy seventeen year old boy, so his naughty daydreams about some other uses for the tie they wore with their school uniform—the tie he thought she looked good enough to eat in—were perfectly justified. And then there’s the one where he finds her in a library and takes her right then and there, but they have to stay quiet for fear of getting caught. Or the other one about taking her flying, except that instead of her holding onto his broomstick, she’s holding on to something else. That something else jumped to attention and he suddenly lost all ability to focus on the game. He had already lost six times, not seeming to be able to place one card without it exploding in his face. He didn’t notice that his twin brothers seemed to be expecting this.

Before he could stand to dismiss himself, however, Hermione rose. “I’m quite tired, I think I’m going to go to bed,” she announced. “I’ll see you all in the morning. Goodnight, everyone.” She headed up the staircase, watched by Ron until she disappeared from sight. He sighed when he heard her door shut and lock, but turned back to resume the game. He was met with four very similar stares.

“So finally did it, eh mate? Ickle Ronniekins has finally got himself a girlfriend!” Fred and George looked at him and laughed, enjoying the fact that they had something to hold over their little brother’s head. Ron just looked at them, mouth agape. “Oh, shut your gob, little brother,” said George. “Yeah, it’s not like we didn’t already know you were in loooooove with Hermione. We just thought you were being a prat and not telling us,” commented Fred.

Ron could feel his neck reddening as turned to look at Harry. His best friend just laughed at him, and clapped one hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, mate…but it’s true. We did all know that you fancied her, and we’re just glad to see that something has finally clicked between you two.” Ron froze. Had any of them see he and Hermione kissing a few nights back? He swallowed, remembering the way that she moaned into his mouth as he kissed her, and could almost feel her shapely leg sliding up his side to rest at his hips. Shit, he thought. He didn’t want anybody else to have seen the way he had to push down his straining erection into his pants when Ginny called out for them. He looked over at Ginny, and she just smiled knowingly at him.

“I…uh…well, you see…erm…yes,” was all he could say—in typical Ron fashion. The other four just laughed at him and George opened his mouth to say something, but Ginny kicked him under the table and shut him up. “Look, Ron. We might give you a hard time, but in the end we’re glad that you’ve finally let her know how you feel. She’s only been pining for you for ages, and she deserves to be happy. We all deserve to be happy, especially now.” She looked over at Harry, who looked as though he wanted to reach across the table and snog the life out of her. Ron was a bit taken aback—Ginny was, after all, his sister—but she kept speaking. “Don’t let these two and their stupid jokes keep you from getting your girl. I mean, I didn’t let them stop me, did I?” With that, she stood to excuse herself, giving Harry a very distinct look before walking up the stairs, her head held high.

A few moments of silence settled upon the group before Harry cleared his throat and stood. “Well, ah, I’m off to bed.” He stretched and feigned a yawn, avoiding the looks of the three Weasleys before him. They knew and accepted his relationship with their sister, and all three would rather her be with Harry than somebody else…but she was still their little sister. They couldn’t help but to be a little protective of her. Harry understood that, but that didn’t mean that he was going to give them every little detail of their relationship, nor was he going to make it obvious that he was sleeping with the youngest Weasley. He waved goodnight as he started up the stairs, thinking about the details of their relationship that he was dying to go over with Ginny. Before he reached the landing, though, he turned and locked eyes with Ron. He gave a jerk of his head and mouthed the word Hermione.

As Harry turned the corner, Ron stood up and stretched. “I’m a bit worn out too,” he said to his brothers. They exchanged glances and broke into a fit of laughter, knowing exactly what Harry had said to Ron and knowing exactly where Ron was going. “Right, little brother,” Fred smirked. “Tell Hermione hello for us, will you?” asked George. Ron ignored them and started up the stairs.

The twins were left alone in the room, their game of Exploding Snap forgotten. They looked at their cards, then at each other. “George.”

“Yes, Fred?”

“We need girls.”

George sighed. “We need girls.”

-*-

Ron reached the landing before Hermione’s room. He knew that she had locked her door, but there was a sliver of light shining from the crack in the doorway. Maybe she’s still awake, he thought. Maybe I can convince her to let me sneak in! Ron brightened at the thought, a million different fantasies running through his mind. He strode across the floor and raised his fist to knock on the door, but hesitated. Now that his chance was here, he was a little scared. His relationship with Lavender had been nothing more than a tactic to make Hermione jealous, and to prove to everyone else that he could get snogged, too. He didn’t take it anything farther than that, just snogging…even though Lavender was more than willing to step things up a notch. But he didn’t think it would feel right. Even kissing Lavender had felt like he was being unfaithful to Hermione, and they weren’t even together back then. Were they even together now, he wondered? Everyone with a pair of eyes knows about us, he admitted to himself. Maybe we should try to quit hiding it.

The thought gave him courage. He softly knocked his fist against the door, hoping that Hermione wasn’t asleep and heard him. A few moments went by, but there was no answer. He knocked again, a little louder this time, but to no avail. Hermione had probably fallen asleep reading a book with the light on, he decided. He sighed and turned away, feeling more than a little disheartened.

Inside her room, Hermione was frozen. Her favorite book, a tattered copy of Hogwarts, A History was open on her lap. She hadn’t expected anybody to come knocking on her door. She knew who it was, and she knew what he wanted, but she was slightly afraid. She had never felt feelings like those that she felt for Ron, and the things that they made her want to do things that she had never done before. The thoughts sometimes embarrassed her, but they intrigued her as well. She longed to find out if Ron’s hands on her skin felt as good in reality as they did in her dreams, and if his mouth felt as hot as she thought it would. I wonder if…well…intimacy (here she blushed at the thought) feels as good as Ginny says that it does. I wonder if it’s as amazing as she’s described it. She fidgeted a little, getting more than slightly aroused at thoughts of the boy that she cared so deeply for. She wondered if he was still standing outside her door. What would she do if he was there, she wondered? Would she invite him in? Did she have the nerves for that?

She decided that she did. Taking a few deep breaths, she threw off her bedcovers and strode across the floor. She threw her head back in a display of courage, even if there was no one there to see it, and drew the door open. It was immediately apparent that Ron wasn’t there, but that didn’t stop her. She was through with being scared of her thoughts, her fantasies, her feelings. It was a dark time, and she had plenty other things to be scared of than love.

She gasped. Love? Did I just think that? Her thoughts raced as fast as her heart, knowing that it was true: she loved Ron. She smiled, and began up the stairs that led to his room. She reached the doorway and saw a little glimmer of light. Perhaps he’s just now getting ready for bed, and I can catch him with his shirt off, she thought. She smiled wickedly and went to knock on the door when she heard a low moan.

She paused. She couldn’t tell what kind of moan that was. It could have been due to pain, or due to tiredness, or due to a number of other things. She took a breath and went to knock again, but was again halted by a noise. This time, though, it sounded a lot like her name.

“Hermione, oh,” Ron whispered. She couldn’t for the life of her think of why he was saying her name like that, but then it dawned on her. She blushed furiously, remembering the times that she had pleasured herself with thoughts of him—there had been many in the past few days—so it wasn’t all too surprising to find that he did the same with thoughts of her. But she never once dreamed of ever letting Ron watch her…did she dare watch Ron? Her curiosity got the best of her, and she reached out a hand to silently turn the doorknob.

She cracked the door ever so slightly, her face pressed to the door frame so that she could use both her eyes. She flushed at what she saw, but she could feel herself getting hotter by the second. Ron was on his bed, naked except for the boxers that were pushed down around his ankles, his manhood standing fully erect. She always was fascinated by the human body, but never before had she seen anything that she wanted to explore so much. It was surrounded by a mass of curly red hair and rose what Hermione judged to be at least seven inches from his body. The tip of it was a violent shade of purple, and Hermione could see a droplet or two of clear liquid resting on the head. Ron’s hand was slowly pumping up and down, his hips arching slightly and his mouth dropping open. He grunted, the speed of his strokes increasing, and he moaned her name again. She loved it; she loved watching the man that she liked—no, loved—pleasure himself. She wondered what it would feel like underneath her fist…wondered what he would do if she just strode in there and took over for him.

Before she could stop herself, that was exactly what she was doing. His eyes flew open as she entered the room and shut the door behind her. “I, uh, oh, Herm…fuck,” was all he could say as he tried to pull his shorts up and cover himself with the blanket. “No, Ron. I want to help.” She climbed on his bed, the flaming orange bedcovers looking slightly amusing against his bright red hair. She smiled, and he almost came right then and there, all over her. Bloody fucking hell, he thought. I can’t believe it. She looks so damn sexy when she giggles like that, and there she is, about to-

His thoughts were interrupted as she settled herself between his legs and reached out a hand. She touched the tip of his swollen head and he shuddered, arousal coursing through him. He couldn’t believe what she was doing—this is what he had been fantasizing about just seconds before, and now here she was, her fingertips grazing against his skin and her eyes wide. He thought for a second that she looked the same way she did when she was studying something new at Hogwarts and he had the urge to laugh aloud. This was suppressed, however, when she closed her fingers around his erection and began pumping up and down, mimicking his motions from earlier.

He groaned, all coherent thought gone from his mind. The only thing he could focus on was Hermione and the delicious feeling of her hands on his cock. He didn’t think that it could get any better, but then she stopped. He groaned again, only this time not with such immense pleasure as the last time. He cracked one eye open at her, ashamed of his position and wondering what she was going to say.

“Can I…Well, I just heard that…someone told me that boys like it when girls put…well, it…in their mouths.”

His breath stopped. He couldn’t form a reply; all he could think about was how amazing it would be if she actually did take him into her mouth. He knew he wouldn’t be able to last very long, he was already having to hold back just so he didn’t embarrass himself. “Ron? Is that true?” Her words interrupted his thoughts, and he somehow found the ability to speak.

“Well, uh…I wouldn’t know. Lavender and I never did anything like this. I felt…I felt like it would be…kind of cheating on you, ‘Mione.” He turned red, and Hermione giggled when she saw that the blush extended down past his neck and spread across his chest and shoulders. She felt him twitch in her hand, and she asked him one more question: “Well, do you know if it’s supposed to feel good when a girl…does that?” He just nodded, barely able to believe what was going on in front of his own eyes.

That nod was all the confirmation she needed. She wanted so badly to make Ron feel good; to make him feel as electrified as she was. Other girls had told her that they didn’t like playing with their boyfriends, and that they only did so that their boys would repay them. Hermione, however, was enjoying herself immensely. She had watched the expressions play over Ron’s face as she had stroked his cock, and she loved it. She could feel the hot, sticky wetness that was coming from between her legs making a sizable wet spot on the cotton of her panties, she was so turned on. And when she had asked Ron, he seemed like he really wanted Hermione to suck him—she could see it in his eyes. And she wanted to as well, so why not?

She scooted backwards on the bed, bending down so that her head was level with his throbbing penis. His heart began pounding against his chest, blood rushing from every place in his body to make his erection swell a little more in her hand, causing her eyes to widen even more. She looked at him and exhaled, the cool breath on his skin driving him crazy. In what seemed like slow motion, she moved her head towards the tip. Her lips touched and then parted, and she wasted no time in taking the most of him in her mouth as she could. “Oh, fuck, Hermione, that feels so good.”

She loved hearing him curse like that. She moaned a little, the sound muffled by his cock in her mouth, and he arched his hips at sensation that it caused. She slowly dragged her mouth back up his length and swirled her tongue around the tip before slowly pushing back down, almost painstakingly. His moans and grunts encouraged her, and she picked up a little more speed. His hands found their way from beside him on the bed to the back of her head, and she could feel him guiding her up and down his shaft, showing her what to do to maximize his pleasure. She moved her eyes up his chest, noting once more how muscular it was, before locking eyes with his. The sight of her that way, mouth on his cock but eyes trained on his like she was completely innocent was enough to drive him over the brink. He pushed into her mouth hard, and she took him, somehow knowing what was going to happen. His release hit him and he cried out, repeating her name amid a series of grunts and pants. She waited until he finished and then did something he would carry with him until the day he died: she locked eyes with his and swallowed.

“Shit. That was the sexiest thing I think I’ve ever seen, Hermione,” he said incredulously. She just smiled and reached for his wand on the bedside table, pointing it at her mouth and muttering a small spell to freshen her breath. Then she leaned down and kissed him, hard and fast and unlike he had been kissed before. She moved until her body was over his, every curve fitting perfectly into him. He loved the feeling of her weight on him, but he couldn’t stand those clothes she still had one. His hands moved against her as they kissed, their mouths molding together in a tangle of tongues and passion and heat and longing for the other. She shivered as he moved his fingertips against her thighs and moaned into his mouth when they grazed against the hem of her nightshirt. He slowly pushed the fabric up over her (rather shapely, he had noticed before) bottom and up her silky back. Still kissing her, he sat up and moved on the bed until she was laying with her head on his pillow. He pulled away from her mouth, taking in the sight. There she was, the girl that had always seemed so unattainable, her wild hair framing her face. Her cheeks were flushed and he thought that made her look even more gorgeous. His eyes traveled down her, noticing how hard her chest was rising and falling under the nightshirt that was pushed up around her waist. The pink cotton of her underwear intrigued him, especially since he could see evidence of her arousal in the dark spot directly in the center. He smiled at her and then reached up to move her shirt completely off and discard it on the floor. He sucked his breath in sharply when he saw that she didn’t have on a bra underneath.

Her breasts rose and fell with her breaths, her dark nipples puckering before his eyes. As he moved one hand up to cup a breast, she closed her eyes and arched her back, longing to feel more. He willingly obliged, his thumb raking back and forth across her nipple, making it harden even more. He couldn’t resist the temptation: he leaned forward and took it in his mouth, tentatively sucking. Her hands flew up, one to rake its nails across his back and the other to run through his hair. He reached his other hand up to the other breast, giving it the same affection that he had been giving its twin.

“Oh, Ron,” she gasped. He loved it, loved hearing her voice catch and loved hearing her breathe his name like that. He looked up and smiled wickedly before leaning up to kiss her. She moaned, missing the feel of his mouth on her, but it was soon forgotten when he slid one hand down her stomach into the waistband of her panties.

“You know, Hermione,” he whispered. She turned to look at him, her breaths coming in little gasps that he found incredibly hot. “You have the most amazing tits I have ever seen.” She whimpered. If it had been any other boy saying that to her, she wouldn’t have hesitated to slap him directly across the face. However, the words that would have sounded so dirty from another mouth sounded so delicious when they came from Ron…and it didn’t help that as he was speaking, one finger was sliding along her the line of skin that separated it from her clit, the little bud of pleasure that was aching for touch. He didn’t seem to notice, though, that she was arching her hips against his hand. “They’re beautiful. Perfect. I just want to touch and kiss them until I can’t anymore.” She was getting antsy and his fingers weren’t moving any closer to the place that she needed so desperately to be touched. “But as much as I already love them, there’s something else I want to get to know. Something that’s right-“ his fingers stopped. “Here.”

With that he slid one fingertip and pushed it against her clit, sending wave after wave of pleasure through her. She moaned and moved her nails against his back, leaving little red marks where they had scratched his skin. He shivered, loving the feel. He began to move his fingertip in slow circles, causing her to rotate her hips in the same way, silently asking him to rub harder. He willingly obliged, watching her mouth drop open at the sensations that it caused. Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, he stopped.

“What? Why?” She murmured, not understanding. He smiled at her and decided that she looked incredibly sexy when she was all confused and flustered like that. He didn’t answer her questions, but instead slid his finger from her clit to her entrance. He made sure he was nice and wet from her arousal and then gently slid his finger in her. She clutched at his back and arched her back, pushing herself onto his finger. He slowly began moving in and out, feeling her contract around his finger. He pushed it as far in her as he could and crooked his finger, brushing against a spot that made her start to shake. He could tell that she enjoyed it, so he did it again. Soon he had built up a rhythm of pushing in and out, moving his fingertip against the spot that made her moan. He could tell that she was getting close to coming, so he bent his head and took a nipple into his mouth.

The simultaneous feeling of his finger moving in and out of her and his mouth on her nipple sent her over the edge. She cried out, and bucked her hips against his hand. He could feel her contract against his finger and watched her as she bit her bottom lip, trying to keep from being too loud and waking up somebody in the house. When she was finished she opened her eyes lazily and looked at him. She blushed a little, but he just smiled down at her. She smiled back and leaned up to kiss him, their mouths melding together in such passion that it almost brought tears to her eyes.

When the kiss ended Ron wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close to him. She snuggled against his chest, her head against his heartbeat. She smiled, knowing that it was beating for her.

She pulled the cover up around them and wrapped her arms around his naked chest. He leaned in to kiss her on the forehead and whispered in her ear, “Goodnight, Hermione.”

“Goodnight, Ron.” She hesitated, and then decided that now was as good a time as any to say what she was feeling. “I…I love you.”

She felt his heartbeat quicken and his arms stiffen around her. She regretted saying it immediately and wished that there was a spell she could say to take back the moment. She was on the verge of tears when one of his hands caught her under the chin, forcing her to lock eyes with his.

“I love you, too.”

A/N: Thanks for reviewing!! It really means a lot to know that you guys are out there reading my story and that you like it. I'm sorry that it took me a little while longer to get this chapter out than it did the others-I got caught up in work and then of course had to read TDH when it came out. And just in case anyone was wondering, I plan on continuing my story with the plot I had in mind, even though we know (if you've read the book yet) what all happens during the summer that this story takes place. Just so you know. Thanks again, don't forget to review!