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Bittersweet	By : valkyrie136 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 32804 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is Harry Potter or Harry Potter related nor do I profit from any of these stories. They are purely for fun.

Chapter List
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Hermione lay perfectly still, then very carefully peered around the corner to make sure no one—especially Filch wasn’t around.

Tonight was the night. It was going to happen.

Her and Ron were going to do…that.

She was both scared and elated. Her heart was pounding in fear, excitement—a million different feelings. She felt a little guilty—her parents had always told her—not until your married! Abstinence is always best—but she loved Ron—and besides, it wasn’t like she wasn’t taking the proper precautions.

Yes, she was ready. Nervous. Afraid—after night she would be different.

Running down the hall, she weaved to dodge the prefects—of course she knew their schedule. Why wouldn’t she? She had mapped this, planned this—it was going to be beautiful.

It was a short jog to an empty classroom, but Ron was already there. She quietly slipped in, and shut the door behind her, and locked it.

Turning around, she felt her breath leave her.

Candles—so many candles everywhere—floating—and surrounding a little pallet that had been made in the middle of the room. Desks had been cleared, of course.

It was romantic—like something out of a cheesy movie. She had always rolled her eyes at this kind if display, but she was overwhelmed, and had to blink back tears.

To think someone had done this for her.

Someone loved her enough to set all of this up…it was wonderful.

Ron was seated in the middle of the make-shift bed, candlelight illuminating his red hair; making it look like fire.

He’d already removed his shirt, and so in nothing but his black trousers he looked…sexy. Masculine. His muscles stood out in sharp definition and she could see the Quidditch player.

She suddenly felt shy; an uncommon and alien feeling in Hermione.

He looked up at she looked away—anywhere, the ceiling, the floor—so he couldn’t see her burning cheeks.

“You came.” He whispered, and for once, he was serious.

This, this was important.

Hermione took a steadying breath. She came. She chose. She was ready, and she loved him. But she was a little scared.

She carefully made her way towards him, conscious of the sound of her breathing and the sound her footsteps made—it was all so loud.

Stopping at the edge of the pallet, she removed her robe, letting it puddle at her feet. Underneath she wore her pajamas—because what else could she wear? What if she had been caught on her way here?

But under that…

Under that she had purchased sexy lingerie—just for this occasion. It was the only ‘sexy’ lingerie she owned…everything else was cute in comparison.

She sat down next to Ron, and it was incredibly tense at first.

He was sitting there, and she was staring at her legs, wanting to move, but afraid too. She turned to look at him, when—

He wrapped an arm around her, and she melted, that was the only word to describe it. Ron’s touches always melted her, made her feel afire. It was amazing that there was more beyond this act than just simple touching—because that alone seemed to suffice.

His lips moved against her, and his hands moved up her body, lifting her shirt before discarding it over his shoulder.

She felt like giggling, as he stared at her breasts, encased in an over-the top black bra which practically made her bursts burst from the fabric. They looked bigger than they actually were.

He looked at them almost…reverently.

“You’re so beautiful Hermione,” He breathed, looking up at her, almost for permission, then touching them.

She arched into his palms, and he rubbed and squeezed her breasts, his breathing quickening along with hers and Hermione felt herself get wet between her legs.

Ron tugged at the bra, and removed that too, playing with her nipples, doing things that made her cry out in surprise, before leaning to kiss them, suck them---

She didn’t think she could bear it.

Weak, she lay down, and stroked his hair while he ran his hands up and down her body. She shifted restlessly, wanting something, wanting him, and too shy to say it.

When Ron reached down to remove his pants, she immediately tensed, all of her fear returning to her.

When his pants disappeared, and she saw his penis, engorged and hard, all she could think about will it hurt? Will it hurt? Will I mess up?

He reached between them, and stuck a finger inside, fingering her.

It didn’t really hurt, and felt quite good, and when the second finger game, she was moving against his hand in small movements.

Dizzily, she thought, so that’s what it feels like to have fingers inside of you.

He groaned, “Hermione, I have to—“

He positioned himself, and it was akward at first because it was obvious he was trying to find the right place, but there was something deeply personal and beautiful about it as well.

This was her first lover, and as far as she knew, she was Ron’s first. It was important that this be taken as seriously as the passion and love she felt for him—it may not be movie magic love, but it was real and there’s.

It happened fast--he was sliding into her, slowly, carefully, trying not to hurt her.

She tensed—bracing herself for pain—but it did not really hurt as much as she expected. She had been prepared for pain—but other than a strange, stretching feeling, there was nothing.

Awesome.

When Ron was completely inside, he looked at her and she looked at him in wonder, and her eyes were tearing. It had happened.

She had thought about this moment—and she was now no longer a virgin but it was strange it didn’t matter; that was the farthest thought from her mind because Ron was gazing down at her, inside of her—and she felt so full. Filled with him, it was incredible.

He was concentrating on not moving, until she said:

“It’s ok, I’m fine.”

That was all he needed.

He started to move—out, and then in, and she gasped—shocked at the sensation, her eyes nearly rolling back in her head. The rhythm they established was strange and mismatched at first, but soon they were moving in tandem.

This, this she could get used to.

She wrapped her arms around him, and on a loud groan Ron came, pouring his cum into her. She felt it like a gushing of heat being released into her body.

He collapsed onto her and Hermione laughed, stroking his back. His skin was hot, and he was breathing heavily, but it felt good to have him on top of her like that.

She hadn’t come—she’d been close—but it was okay. This was fine—and Ron felt so good on her—

He was suddenly pulling out of her, away, and his fingers were back inside of her. He didn’t seem to care about the cum pouring out of her, his gaze was fixed on her pussy, and he thrust them in and out, quickly.

Hermione bit her lip, it felt good—but it wasn’t enough—if she could just—

She reached down and touched the part of her that was aching—the tiny little piece of her flesh clit—and then she was shattering, shattering into a million pieces.

Ron watched her, and she was embarrassed, so embarrassed—she’d touched herself in front of him.

She rolled over to hide her inflamed face.

Ron was confused, “Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me? Did I hurt—“

She bit her lip, “No—“

She turned and sat up, “I love you so much,” and she threw her arms around him, wondering if insanity came with sex.

She was overflowing with feeling, and she wanted to sing and dance and tell everyone of her good fortune. She could tell the Dark Lord himself and it would be smashing.

Ron laughed, “God Hermione, don’t scare me like that.”

He stroked her back, and she sighed. Life was so perfect
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Bittersweet