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Nights in December	By : ScoresOfLooks Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Ron/Hermione Views: 16349 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise, and I am not making any money on this story.

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The Burrow
It had been the summer holidays between her fifth and sixth year at Hogwarts. Having taken part in the battle at the Ministry of Magic before the holidays started, Professor Dumbledore had thought it best that Hermione spend as much of her vacation as possible at the Burrow. Hermione had agreed, and though her parents had been disappointed to see her leave after only a week at home, she had promised them that she would definitely be coming home for Christmas.
When she arrived at The Burrow, she was surprised to find that Harry had not arrived yet. According to Mr. Weasley, Ron’s father, this was because Dumbledore had something special planned for Harry, though he had had no clue as to what this was. Hermione had taken up residence with Ginny in what Hermione assumed was the cleanest of all the bedrooms at the Burrow. Ginny Weasley kept an immaculate room and Hermione could not help but feel like she was intruding, being forced to keep her clothes in neat little piles. Ginny, however, had been a gracious host, and quickly found something of interest among Hermione’s belongings.
Being a witch, Hermione wore the same robes while at school as all other Hogwarts students did. However, her remaining wardrobe was compromised exclusively of muggle clothing. Ginny had been fascinated with Hermione’s jeans, hoodies and shirts, but had become truly engrossed when she came upon Hermione’s underwear.
The wizarding community considered underwear to be a purely practical type of clothing, so when Ginny saw that Hermione had matching sets in different colours, some in different materials, she could not help but marvel. Hermione had never thought of herself as a fashionable girl, but she had always liked to wear underwear that made her feel attractive. A particular fondness for lace was evident. Ginny had showed clear signs of envy, and Hermione had promised that when they could walk the streets of London safely again, she would take her shopping.
On the night before Harry was due to arrive at the Burrow, Hermione had headed up to Ron’s room to talk about a possible birthday present for Harry. It was late, so Hermione made sure to tiptoe her way up the stairs, so as not to awaken anyone. She could hear faint sounds coming from the kitchen, and assumed that Mrs. Weasley was still up, either cleaning or sewing. Mr. Weasley would most likely still be at work, and with any luck Fleur (Who was staying with Bill in Percy’s old room) would have gone to bed by now.
Hermione was wearing a simple, blue nightdress that stopped just above her knees. Unbeknownst to Hermione, the thin material was partly translucent, revealing the blue lace underwear she wore underneath. The summer had been cool so far, but this particular night was almost tropical, so she had eschewed her dressing gown. She was so used to going to Ron’s room to speak to him that she did not bother to knock, but instead opened the door and entered the room.
“Hermione, what’re you doing?” whispered Ron in a panicked voice. He had been standing naked at his window, a maroon towel in his hand. Upon Hermione’s entrance, he had turned around to face the door, seen who it was, and quickly covered up, but not quickly enough. Hermione had seen Ron’s member, and in her embarrassment was now almost lost for words.
“Ron, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, oh my word, why are you naked?” she rambled in a high-pitched whisper, turning bright red. Ron, she noticed, had turned a similar colour. She also realized that this was the first time she had seen Ron without his shirt on since he had started as keeper on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The tall, skinny boy she had once known had grown muscular, and he no longer seemed gangly, but looked positively athletic. She was snapped out of her appreciation when Ron spoke again.
“It was boiling up here, thought I’d take a shower before bed and dry off in the breeze from the window. Why’d you sneak up on me like that?” Ron still bore a shocked expression, but he did not seem angry with Hermione. Rather, he was now observing her with a mixture of embarrassment and curiosity on his face. Hermione tried to put on an expression that would betray neither her embarrassment nor her sudden appreciation for Ron’s new physique. She could not help but feel that she was failing on both accounts.
“I wanted to talk to you about getting Harry a present for his birthday,” she explained, trying to salvage the situation. “I saw an ad for-” but she trailed off. Ron had wrapped the towel around his waist, yet a bulge was starting to form on the front of it. Hermione’s eyes widened.
“Ron, is everything alright? You’re… growing,” she exclaimed.
“Well I’d say you’re to blame for that, coming in here dressed like that,” he said reproachfully. Hermione realized that her words had offended Ron, as if what was happening was not at all uncommon, but that it was rather embarrassing.
“Like what?” Hermione asked, perplexed. She had no idea what Ron meant, and could not see how her clothing should have anything to do with Ron’s body suddenly growing grotesquely.
“Like that! I can see through your night dress.”
Hermione took one look down at her night dress, and then quickly threw her arms across her body, as if to shield herself. If Ron could see her underwear, then he was seeing more of her than he ever had before. She felt acutely aware of her body and stared at Ron, mortified.
“I didn’t realise it was this transparent,” she whispered so quietly that she might as well have mouthed the words.
Suddenly, they heard someone ascending the staircase.
“That’ll be Mum coming to say goodnight. She can’t see you in here. Quick, jump under the covers, I’ll turn out the lights,” Ron whispered rapidly. Without giving it a second thought, Hermione threw herself onto the bed and pulled the Chudley Cannons covers over her. Lying on her stomach with both arms down by her side, careful not to make a sound, she heard Ron turn off the lights. She heard him take two quick steps, felt him lift the covers, and suddenly she felt his entire weight on her. Being unable to see anything, Ron had thrown himself straight into bed, and landed on top of her, face down. Hermione almost cried out, but managed to muffle it with the pillow.
The footsteps got louder, and just as the door opened, Hermione realized that Ron had dropped the towel on his way to the bed. He was completely naked and pressed on top of her.
“Ron? You asleep, dear?” Molly Weasley asked. Ron kept quiet, feigning the slow, rhythmic breathing of a person in deep sleep. Hermione couldn’t have said a word, even if she wanted to. Ron had her pushed firmly into the mattress, and if he moved he risked breaking the illusion that he was alone in the bed. Had Hermione been able to cross her fingers, she would have. She closed her eyes instead, and hoped that the ruse was working.
“Thought so. Goodnight, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said. The door closed, taking with it all light save for that which the moon let slip in through the window. As Hermione listened for the steps to continue downstairs, she suddenly realised that Ron’s member was still swelling. It was a curious sensation, like being pushed against a slowly expanding balloon. She tried to move, but Ron kept her firmly in place.
“I’ll move when I’m sure she’s back downstairs,” he whispered into her ear. The rush of warm air on her face sent a small tremor through her body. Unwittingly, she found herself pressing her behind against Ron’s pelvis. She had not meant to do it. It was as if her body had simply acted on its own, seeking to fulfil some secret desire that Hermione herself had never been aware of. She felt mortified.
Then, adding to the horror of it all, she realised that Mrs. Weasley would be checking in on her and Ginny to wish them a good night as well. In spite of her mounting panic, she couldn’t help but notice how firm Ron’s torso felt against her back and shoulders. Her whole body was tense as she listened.
They heard the door opening on the floor below. Then they heard Mrs. Weasley’s voice again.
“Ginny, where’s Hermione?”
Hermione could suddenly not keep still. Her body shook involuntarily. She noted once again that Ron’s member was still swelling.
“She went to the loo, I think. Left two minutes ago,” Ginny answered happily. Hermione felt thankful that she had not told Ginny where she was going when she left the room. She relaxed, but then a new feeling of panic crept over her. Ron’s member, which until now had been growing larger against her leg, was slowly inching its way forward, and was now resting between her thighs. The panic was, to her surprise, accompanied by yet another tremor. She pushed her head back and felt her cheek brush against Ron’s. His manhood was now pressing even harder, attempting to push her thighs apart so as to continue on its journey.
“Well, wish her a good night from me, will you? Goodnight, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said. The sound of Ginny’s door closing could be heard, followed by that of Mrs. Weasley descending the last staircases.
Hermione knew that she ought to get up and leave Ron’s room, but she could do nothing until Ron himself got up. The situation she found herself in was completely alien to her. Her only physical contact with a boy had been when Viktor Krum had kissed her at the Yule Ball in her fourth year. Yet here she was, in bed with a naked boy on top of her.
“Uhm, Hermione?” Ron suddenly whispered.
“Y-yes?” Hermione answered, not sure what else to do.
“Are you squeezing me like that on purpose?”
Hermione felt as if all the blood in her body had rushed to her head. Her hands had found their way to Ron’s hips, and had started squeezing them.
“I’m so sorry, it happened by accident,” she whispered truthfully. She let go instantly.
“Alright,” he said, and to Hermione’s surprise she thought there was a hint of disappointment in his voice. Thinking it a spectre of her imagination she said, “I think we should get up now. This must be uncomfortable for you.”
Ron quickly moved to the side and got out of the bed. Quickly grabbing the towel and holding it in front of his manhood yet again, he said, “Well, I wouldn’t say ‘uncomfortable’,” and gave a nervous laugh.
Hermione froze halfway off the bed. She suddenly found herself thinking of her primary school days. One of the boys from her class had snuck a dirty magazine into the school in his backpack, and had been showing the whole class during lunchbreak. Hermione, ever the good student, had only caught a single glimpse before running up to inform the teachers of this improper conduct taking place. However, what she saw had been etched into her mind.
It had been a large photograph of a man and a woman. The woman, a pretty blonde in heavy make-up, had been on her knees, her lips and left hand wrapped around the man’s member, staring at the camera with a sort of cool detachment. The man had been standing, and bore one of the biggest smiles Hermione had ever seen. Whatever this act was, she remembered thinking, it had most certainly pleased the man greatly.
Hermione sat up and looked straight ahead. In spite of the darkness covering both of them, she was afraid to look directly at Ron. Having Ron on top of her had spread a warmth in her body, and she found herself eager to explore it further. She made the decision instantly; she would ask Ron if he wanted her to pleasure him.
“If you want,” she started, “I could stay, and we could... do things.” She was thankful that the lights were out. She was sure that the redness of her face could match that of Ron’s hair at this point.
“Are you serious?” Ron asked incredulously. Hermione could not decipher whether he sounded disgusted or surprised. She reasoned with herself that it had to be the former. Though she had shed her baby fat over the past two years of puberty, and grown a pair of modest breasts that she was quite happy with, she knew that she was not considered a pretty girl. Viktor Krum had liked her for her knowledge, she knew that.
“I’m sorry, Ron, I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll leave now,” she said in a small voice, and started feeling her way towards the door. She could feel the tears welling in her eyes. She felt both ashamed and confused.
Suddenly, she felt Ron grab hold of her wrist.
“Don’t,” he said. Hermione looked towards him, and could see the outline of his face through the darkness, “I want you to stay.”
Hermione smiled, feeling an almost heavenly elation, although she wasn’t sure if Ron could see it. Wasting no time, she reached for the towel with both hands, loosened it, and let it fall to the floor. Gingerly, she reached her left hand towards where she thought Ron’s member would be, but once again Ron had grabbed her wrist, this time pulling her into an embrace. Pushed against him, she noticed that his manhood had sprung up towards his stomach, and was now pressed in between their bodies. Unsure of how to begin, she decided to act on instinct. She pulled her body away from his, and reached her right hand down to touch it.
The moment she curled her fingers around his shaft, Ron gave an almost inaudible moan.
“Did I hurt you?” Hermione whispered alarmed. She could not forgive herself if she squandered this situation now.
“No, it feels amazing,” Ron had whispered back, and even through the darkness, she could see that a smile had formed on his face. She smiled back, intent on leaving Ron with the greatest grin of his life. She applied a bit more pressure with her hand.
“Try sliding it up and down” he advised her. Carefully, she did as he asked. She wanted to make sure that she did not act too rashly. As she started sliding her hand up and down his shaft, Ron’s moans grew in volume. Hermione felt a sense of accomplishment, and could not help but feel proud of herself. She wanted this to be a particularly great moment in Ron’s life, and felt that she could make it so. Still stroking his manhood, she got down on her knees, pulled the tip towards her, and kissed it.
Ron shook, almost violently so. It was clear that he had not expected her to take this course of action. She got scared for a moment, but he quickly whispered for her to continue.
Hermione noticed that Ron’s member was quite a bit larger than the one she remembered seeing on the man in the magazine. It was both thicker and longer, with a base of curly red her. Emboldened by his reaction to her touches thus far, she began kissing down the length of his shaft. When she reached the base, she continued to the lower side, and kissed each testicle. The skin was not as taut as that of the shaft, and in a moment of adventurousness she pursed her lips on it and sucked slightly. She could tell that Ron had to struggle to not gasp too loudly, and found herself smiling as she kissed back up the underside of his manhood. When she reached the tip, she parted her lips and slid them around it.
She heard a loud thunk as Ron bent slightly forwards and slammed his hands onto the wall for support. Apparently the sensation was too much for his body to handle by itself. She looked up at him through the darkness, and caught his gaze. As he smiled down at her, she once again felt confirmed in her technique. Feeling incredibly confident, she decided to wink cheekily at Ron. Doing so caused him to emit a laugh that sounded almost nervous, and Hermione realized just how much control she had over him at this moment.
She slid her head forwards and backwards, while her right hand slid back and forth close to his shaft. She could only fit around five or six centimetres of Ron in her mouth, but with all the saliva she had generated, both her lips and her tongue flitted across his manhood rapidly. She suddenly felt Ron’s left hand slide over her right cheek and into her thick brown hair. Before she knew it, he was caressing the back of her neck.
Hermione lifted her left hand, and slid it up along the inside of Ron’s thighs. She noticed that his breathing kept getting steadily heavier, to the point that he was now almost breathing in gasps.
“Her – Mione!” he said, no longer able to whisper, “I’m going to finish.”
Hermione did not know what he meant by this, but she knew that she wanted to find out. She began pulling her head back and forth faster. She reached her left hand up to the pouch under his manhood, and just as she started fondling it, Ron let out a deep moan and Hermione suddenly felt her mouth fill up with a taste like saltwater. A thick fluid had erupted from Ron’s tip and straight onto her mouth. Hermione looked up questioningly at Ron, unsure of what to do. Ron was staring back at her, with a curious expression, as if he had just been asked a difficult riddle after sprinting a mile.
“That was incredible, Hermione. Absolutely incredible.” He looked as though he could not believe what had just happened. Unsure of how to communicate with Ron, she simply slid her head back, keeping her lips sealed, and pointed at her mouth.
“Oh, right,” said Ron, and quickly managed to produce a cup from his bedside table. He handed it to Hermione, and she spat the contents of her mouth into it. The taste had not been wholly unpleasant, but she had not expected it to be salty. She caught Ron’s eye, and smiled. He smiled back down at her, and suddenly they both began laughing. The whole situation seemed completely ludicrous somehow. Hermione noted that Ron’s member seemed to be deflating again.
Suddenly, the voice of Mrs. Weasley could be heard from the kitchen.
“Fleur, have you seen Hermione? She’s not in Ginny’s room.”
“I need to get back down to Ginny’s room,” whispered Hermione, suddenly feeling panicked. She had not thought that Mrs. Weasley would keep looking for her, but evidently this was the case.
“Oh, okay, yeah,” said Ron, sounding slightly flummoxed. Hermione would have liked to stay with Ron, but thought it best not to tempt fate. She got to her feet, opened the door, and hurried down the stairs as quietly as she could. She reached Ginny’s door, opened it gently, and slid inside, relieved to find her redheaded roommate already fast asleep.
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Nights in December

The Burrow