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Afterschool \'Studying\'	By : AAnitaB2 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Ron/Hermione Views: 6049 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I own nothing from the Harry Potter Universe. No money is made, no infringement is intended.

Chapter List
- 1-Afterschool 'Studying'
- 1
Title: Afterschool ‘Studying’

Author: AnitaB

Author’s Notes: We all know that Ron and Hermione were meant to be together, but sometimes smart people can be really stupid in matters of the heart. And it’s always the weirdest little things that clue them in on what they really want and need. Ron/Hermione romantic smut ahead. I am the queen.

I own nothing and nothing I do own would be worth getting in the lawsuit.

Afterschool ‘Studying’

By AnitaB

Chapter one: Thirty percent of our term grade

She was talking to him. And while Ron knew he was supposed to be listening to Hermione, he’d heard this lecture dozens of times. But each time her eyes burned and her hair flew about her face as she talked and gestured.

So pretty, even as those words set annoyance into all his nerves. /Such a blimy know-it-all./

Standing in front of the many pages of notes she’d stuck to the Griffindor common room wall, Hermione looked at him over her shoulder, eyes angry. “You’re not paying attention, Ron. This presentation is worth 30% percent of our term grade. You know that, don’t you?”

It must’ve been something about the flash of her eyes, or the way her hands rested on her hips. Or something else all together, but the next thing Ron knew his hand was half-buried in her pony tail and his lips were pressing against hers, trapping any words inside. Hermione tensed against him before her hands moved up to rest lightly on his arms and her head tilted towards his lips.

Not believing he was doing it, Ron moved his free hand to the curve of her waist, pulling Hermione closer. /Bloody hell, I am kissing Hermione Granger. And she’s letting me…/ More than letting, Hermione was leaning into her splayed fingers on his shoulders. Her lips pressed against his. /Hermione is kissing me…/

Disbelief made him lift his head, needing to see her face. To know if this was making her feel like it was making him feel. Dazed and dizzy. Almost like he was flying. Slowly opening his eyes, Ron watched her face. Waiting to be slapped or turned into a toad or something.

But, Hermione, speechless for once, merely touched a hand to her lips. Her eyes held the shocked, soft of misty look Ron could feel on his own face. “You, Ron… you kissed me…” Ron could only bite his lip and nod as her hands moved to his chest and his hand moved from her hair to her cheek. Almost without their knowledge, the space between them closed and disappeared. Ron’s hand curved around her hip to flatten in the small of her back. Both of Hermione’s hands slid upward to support herself on his shoulders as her eyes rose to meet his. The puzzled heat on her face melted something inside Ron. And then she tried to stop his heart. “Do it again?”

The hesitant question nearly disappeared in the sound of Ron’s breath rushing out of his lungs. “Hermione,” She rose up on her toes, her lips meeting his halfway. What had been a chaste press of skin before changed with the curl of her arms around his neck. Hermione groaned into his lips, pressing closer as her fingers clenched in his hair.

It was Ron’s turn to groan as Hermione’s lips opened against his, the tip of her tongue hesitantly touching the corner of his mouth. /Hermione,/ Flattening both hands in the small of her back, Ron pulled her tight against his body and invited her closer with a soft meeting of tongues. And did Hermione ever take him up on it, exploring the inside of his mouth with shocking skill and agility. Ron couldn’t help but respond in kind, meeting her move for move until they both ran out of breath. Keeping her tight against his chest, he gasped against her lips, relearning how to breathe. Moving one hand to her cheek, Ron tilted her face up to meet his eyes. “Bloody Brilliant, Hermione.”

Hermione smiled, touching the tips of her fingers to his lips. “You know, Ron, you can’t just kiss me anytime you want me to be quiet.” Her voice tried for a true scolding tone but fell ridiculously short of the mark.

Ron couldn’t help but notice and delight in the heat in her eyes. Hermione liked him, liked kissing him. “I don’t know, Hermione. If I did it in Potions, Professor Snape might give Griffindor 50 points just for keeping you quiet through his lectures.” Smiling, he kissed her exploring fingertips and pulled her closer. “We could win the house cup by the end of this term.”

Leaning more comfortably against his chest, Hermione smiled at the way his arms tightened around her. “I think you just want to avoid listening to those lectures yourself.” On their own, her fingers moved over his shoulders, sliding against the warmth of his skin through his shirt. “Never were that good of a student, were you, Ron?”

“And you learn everything from books, right, Herm?” His eyes dropped to her lips, one hand rising to meet them. “Even how to kiss like that, huh?” Ron felt her smile against his fingertips, her body leaning closer along his. /So beautiful, my brilliant Hermione./

“As a matter of fact, yes. Would you like a little tutoring?” Hermione’s hands climbed his shoulders, sliding into his hair. Her breath shuddered past his fingers as her body pressed flat along his. Firm breasts pressed against his ribs even as his hips were cradled by the flat line of her stomach. She was, she felt… absolutely perfect.

And her lips… “I’d love that, Hermione.” Fingers tilting her chin up, Ron showed her how much he’d learned in his first lesson, lips coaxing hers open to explore the sweet warmth of her. Hermione fit him perfectly, her lips against his, the curve of her waist under his hand, the curl of her hair through his fingers. Ron would do nearly anything to keep her in his arms like this forever. “Hermione, luv.”

She trembled, her eyes slowly meeting his. “Quick study.”

“Good tutor,” He was leaning down again, eager for another lesson. “Hermione,”

“Ron, Hermione,”

“Harry,”

The downward motion of Ron’s head stopped and suddenly reversed. Hermione’s head straightened and spun, sending her hair flying across his throat.

However neither one managed to step back or even untangle their arms before their friend and co-conspirator stepped around the door jam, a question half on his lips.

A question that died as Harry actually looked up. “Have you guys figured out how to…” The words stopped halfway out and his eyebrows jumped almost above the lightening-shaped scar.

Ron stood frozen, Hermione motionless in his arms waiting for some response. Eyebrows slowly lowered and lips twitched, then he smiled. “About bloody time already.” He felt Hermione relax ever so slightly against his chest at Harry’s words. And Ron found he could breathe again. “You’ve been dancing around it for years now.” Harry grinned and leaned against the door jam. “And it’s been so obvious, I mean really obvious.”

Somehow it made sense to the small functioning part of Ron’s brain that Hermione found her voice first. Incoherent as it was. “But, Harry… we haven’t… we didn’t… I mean.”

“Hermione, stop it.” Harry Potter, the scourge of evil, smiled a little darkly. “First year, everyone saw it. We all knew you’d either end up together or kill each other trying.” Still smiling, he turned to leave, then popped his head back around the corner. “While I’m glad it happened this way, don’t forget dinner's in an hour and our projects still need work.”

And then he was gone. And Ron was speechless. And Hermione was still in his arms, her hands resting comfortably on his chest. “Since first year?” Her hair brushed his chin as Hermione rested her forehead on his chest. “So, neither one of us should go into theater, huh, Ronald?”

“Apparently,” He missed her eyes, fingers automatically tilting her chin up to get them back. “More important right now, Hermione, is that we have an hour before we’re expected at dinner.” Ron knew his brilliant girl knew exactly what he meant by the way her eyes dropped to his lips.

“We really should get to work on our project.” The words were trying to discourage him, but her arms around his neck had something else to say. So did the way her lips tilted up for his.

/That’s my girl,/ “Be quiet, Hermione.”

Her lips met his halfway, opening in an invitation Ron wasn’t about to refuse. /My sweet beautiful girl./

000

000

Afterschool ‘Studying’

By AnitaB

Chapter two: Three long days

“You’re staring at her, again.” Harry Potter didn’t even look up from the scroll of ancient runes he was deciphering.

That didn’t, of course, mean he was wrong. Ronald Weasley weakly dragged his eyes from Hermione’s face and actually looked at his scroll of parchment. /Of course I’m …/ “No, I’m not.”

“Really, Ron. You are a horrible liar.” Harry smiled at him, one eye still on his work. “And you’re not getting any work done when you’re staring at Hermione.”

/I can’t help it. She’s…/ “It’s been three days, Harry.” Ron picked up his quill, even knowing he’d never be able to concentrate with Hermione glancing up at him across the class room. Three days since he’d gotten his brilliant girl alone enough to get his arms around her. Three days since Ron had felt her lips find his. It was driving him insane.

“And don’t think I don’t know it, Ron. I need you to touch her just so we can get our homework done.” Harry finally put down his quill and looked at Ron with a half-joking grin. “So just do it already.” The bell rang and he rolled up the scroll, glancing at Hermione. “Take her to Hogsmeade for dinner. Sneak down to the basement or out to the woods.” Harry stood up to leave and tossed one last helpful thing over his shoulder. “Figure it out, man, before we all go bonkers.”

Ron was left standing, scroll half-rolled in his hand, to stare after Harry and Hermione as they walked to the next class. “Bloody Brilliant.”

000

He was trying to drive her mad, damn Ronald Weasley. Sitting in Ancient Runes watching her. Hermione had felt his eyes locked on her face. His gaze was heating her lips, reminding her constantly of just how long it had been since his lips had warmed hers. Three whole days. Her skin hadn’t felt the warm press of his in far, far too long. The bloody man had gotten her addicted to him and now she was suffering withdrawal. /Bloody Ronald./

Focusing her eyes on the half-full roll of parchment, Hermione frowned at the utter nonsense that she’d meant to be her homework essay. Ron had stolen her ability to concentrate. And instead of being angry, all Hermione could do was miss him. “Ron,”

A soft flapping noise dragged her eyes up to the closed window over her desk. Just outside was a small origami crane, wings beating against the wind to over in place. Dropping quill and parchment, Hermione stretched up for the window latch, letting the paper bird come to rest on her palm.

A soft smile curved her lips at the delicacy of the spell in her hands. The crane bowed, touching its little paper beak to her wrist before unfolding itself to reveal the scrawled note inside.

                “My Brilliant Hermione,

                Meet me at 8 outside the common room. Dress up.

                Missing you,

                Your Ronald”

“My Ronald,” Hermione leaned out the window just in time to spot red hair and black robes disappearing around the corner of the building. Her Ronald was meeting her tonight. Alone. No more time with that artificial distance between them. Her Ron was going to touch her tonight. /Finally,/ Hermione could almost feel his fingers trail along her cheek to tip her chin up. Could almost taste the heat of his lips on hers. Could almost warm herself in the feel of his arms around her. “My Ron,”

She set the note down on the desk to keep her trembling fingers from crushing it. And then Hermione watched the paper fold itself back into the crane. There it flew softly, almost hovering above her desk. Hermione couldn’t help but bite her lips as the little bird bowed again. /My Ronald can be such a charmer./

“Eight o’clock.” She’d get to touch him soon, get to see him look at her like that. “Dress up,”

Hermione loved the way Ron looked at her already… but those two words. They were an opportunity she could pass up. It was a chance to show Mr. Ronald Weasley that there was more to his brilliant girl than her GPA. Hermione was going to make his jaw drop and his hands clench from across the room.

She just had to figure out how. Moving to the closet mirror, Hermione looked at herself with a skeptical eye. Curly hair that was a very ordinary shade of brown. A plain face that was oval and lightly freckled. Nothing to get excited over.

And yet when Ron looked at exactly what was staring back at Hermione… well, he reacted like it was something else entirely. The look that came over Ron’s face… made her feel beautiful. His eyes melted as his hands buried themselves in her hair. His voice caught in his throat when his fingers stroked along her skin to cup her face. And he made the most beautiful sounding groan when she reached for him with hands or lips.

To Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger was simply the most beautiful woman on Earth. She bit her lip, still gazing with puzzled shock at her own reflection. Now it was up to Hermione to show him he was right.

But how?

Moving away from the mirror, Hermione mentally searched her clothes. Not much there to work with.

Not a dress. His hands on her waist sometimes went seeking skin. Hermione didn’t want anything to get in the way of his touch. Ever.

So, she was looking for skin to skin access. Hermione shivered. Last week, when Ron had ‘shh’ed her and led the way to the corner of the library with the biggest, most obscure research books, and with the abandoned, rarely occupied table. Ron had perched her on the edge of that table and spent the next half hour joyously kissing her breathless and senseless. His hands had been gloriously warm rubbing the length of her legs, even through her jeans.

/A skirt, definitely a skirt and no tights or nylons./ “Yes,” Diving for the back of her closet, Hermione dragged a black skirt off the second to last hanger. /Cousin Michelle’s wedding./ She sent up a little thank you for the fact that her mother hadn’t let her dress casual. ‘You’re in the receiving line, dear, the least you can do is be a little fashionable.’ Long and sort of silky, the black skirt had a slit that hit just above her left knee. /Perfect./

/Now, what to wear for the top?/ Discarding the immediate thought, ‘nothing,’ Hermione dug back into the closet, treasure hunting.

000

Ronald Weasley waited until his note flew into Hermione’s window, then tucked his wand into his robes and head back around the corner of the building. Stopping to lean on the wall, he imagined how her face must look as the touch of her hand revealed his invitation. Ron couldn’t help but remember the look on her face the first time he’d brought her flowers. Surprised and pleased, followed up by eager. And immediately followed by her lips reaching for his and her arms circling his neck.

Yeah, that was the look on her face right now. And if he wanted to get everything ready so he could see that surprised, pleased, and heated looked on her face, Ron had a lot to do. And after three days without touching her, he’d sell his wand to feel her arms around his neck and her lips on his.

/Time to get to work, Mr. Weasley./ There was food to gather, transportation to arrange, and himself to get ready. Ron certainly wasn’t going to show up to meet a dressed up Hermione in his student robes. While he knew he’d never look good enough to match her, she deserved more effort than that, more romance. Hermione deserved everything he could give her and so much more.

Pushing away from her dorm wall, Ron headed for the kitchen. It was time to sweet talk the head dwarf.

A half hour later, Ronald Weasley left the kitchen with a sore wand wrist and the obligation to come back once a week for a month. /Cleaning spells are exhausting./ Still more to do.

“So where’re you taking her?” Harry Potter perched on the windowsill next to Ron’s bed, grinning as the object of his blatant teasing stepped in the door. “You do have a plan, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mother Harry, I do.” Moving closer, Ron shook his head at his best friend, “I’m taking Hermione to dinner, if that’s okay with you.”

“Okay with me?” Harry rolled his eyes and hopped down from the ledge. “I’m so okay, I want to help.” Picking up a length of fabric from the foot of Ron’s bed, he handed over his father’s invisibility cloak. “Hogsmeade or the basement?”

/Transportation, perfect./ “Attic, actually. Less dust and more space.” Ron took the cloak with a smile. “Thanks, Harry.”

“Hey, I’m enjoying this as much as you guys are.” /I really don’t think so, Harry./ “So what are you gonna wear, other than that.”

“I may not be the genius here, but I can dress myself.” /And I know exactly what to do with Hermione./ Two weeks ago, they’d been out walking when her eyes lit up. She’d smiled, hooked her fingers in the neck of his green sweater and led him off the path. He’d follow that smile anywhere and this time it had led him to the feel of her hands up his back, under the sweater and the sound of her voice moaning his name at the touch of his lips to her neck. “And I know what Hermione likes.”

Harry’s laugh brought him back to the present to find that same green sweater in his hand. “I’m sure you do, Ron.” Ronald turned to see the wicked smile on Harry’s face. “I should hope so after nearly a month.”

The way her eyes fluttered and her neck arched at the stroke of his fingertips along the skin of her back. The tightening of her arms around his neck. It had been a month and Ron knew exactly what Hermione liked. For reasons he still couldn’t understand, what she liked was him. “Green is her favorite color on me.”

“And off you?”

Every cell in Ronald Weasley’s entire body stopped and stuttered, then raced at the thought. “Harry Potter!”

000

000

Afterschool ‘Studying’

By AnitaB

Chapter three: A few particular firsts

Hermione blinked at the mirror then pulled back enough to see if the eyeliner she’d put on was even. Ron had never seen her in makeup before.

A grin curved her lips. If Hermione got her way, more than one thing that hadn’t happened before might happen tonight. She shivered at the thought of a few particular firsts with Ronald Weasley, almost snapped the eyeliner pencil between her fingers. “Ron,”

Carefully setting the pencil aside, Hermione reached for the eye shadow. Her Ronald loved her eyes, melted when those eyes found his. And she wanted to see him melt under the heat of her eyes. But she also desperately wanted to feel his lips on hers, his arms around her.

Would lipstick complete the picture? Or get in the way of the kiss she’d waited three days for.

A light color, less chance of smearing. But not anything that would get in the way of his fingers sliding along her jaw to lift her lips to his. Hermione loved it when her Ron kissed her.

Now for her hair. The memory of his hands in her hair made half the choice for her. Hermione wanted those hands to always be able to reach for her, however and wherever they wanted.

Grabbing one of her mother’s jeweled hair combs, she considered the balance between sophistication and easy access.

The folded crane floating above her desk chirped, fluttered its wings and bowed its head. It was almost eight o’clock. Ron should be coming for her soon.

Standing back from the mirror, Hermione looked at herself. She still didn’t see what Ron saw, but she couldn’t wait to watch the look on his face when he did.

Five minutes before eight found her standing in the Griffindor common room with both hands resting on the door jam. She was fighting the butterflies in her stomach just to stand still.

What if Ron was disappointed? What if he didn’t look at her like…

Hermione’s eyes found him moving up the hallway and all the questions just vanished. /What if Ron wore my *Favorite* sweater…/ It was the green one she had almost gotten off him once. Hermione had gotten both hands up under it, had felt the heat and shape of him through the thin cotton of his shirt. She’d just started dragging the hem of that sweater up his ribs when Malfoy and his cronies had interrupted. /Blasted Malfoy./

She was going to get him out of that sweater tonight. Maybe out of that shirt too. Ronald Weasley’s skin was going to be under her hands tonight. “Ron,”

Ron turned at the sound of her voice … and nearly tripped over his own feet. Hermione’s blood started to simmer at the heat in his gaze. Every tightly wound nerve in her body melted as Ron’s eyes caressed her face almost tangibly.

Just as she’d wanted, his hands clenched and his jaw worked silently. Only then did his eyes burn over the exposed skin along her legs and below her throat. From across the room, Hermione watched his adam’s apple bob several times.

Suddenly the unfamiliar heels seemed natural and the skirt stopped catching at her ankles. Before she knew it, Hermione had crossed the room and taken the hands Ron held out.

“Hermione Ann Granger… you are so bloody beautiful.” Her eyes fluttered as he pulled her closer, fingers rising to cup her cheek. “I can’t believe you’re real.”

How did he do this to her? How could he melt her into her shoes so easily? “Ron,” With a mind of their own, Hermione’s hands stroked up his chest to curve behind his neck, pressing closer to his heat. Her eyes fluttered as his arms closed and tightened around her. “You look wonderful, Ron.” Her fingers slid into his hair, pulling his lips down towards hers. Hermione needed this. Needed to kiss that harsh groan off his lips. Needed so much more.

“Not here,” Ron’s eyes apologized, clinging to her lips before they flicked to the common room door. “Let’s go.” His arms never left her, just shifted to pull her against his side and lead her to the door. Ron curved a hand over the small of her back to her waist, his thumb edging under her blouse to rest against her skin.

One square inch of skin, and Hermione could feel it all over her body. She was so going to get him out of his shirt tonight. “Lead the way, Ron.”

In the hallway outside, Ron unfolded the length of cloth draped over his arm, revealing Harry’s cloak. “Come closer,”

The grin that surfaced on Hermione’s face was completely involuntary. Like breathing … or touching Ron. “Gladly,” Moving into his open arms, she sighed as they closed tight around her. “So where are we going?”

Her hands slid along his arm, tucking her back closer against his chest. Some small shift happened as Ron closed the robe over both their heads and Hermione found herself clutching at the arm in her grip and gasping. /He wants me…/ Ronald Weasley was hard and pressed into the small of her back. And felt so unbelievably good. Distractedly she heard his gasp buried in her hair and felt his arm tighten, drawing her hips back into his. /Please, Ronald./ “Hermione…”

So much for breathing being natural.

000

“Ron,”

The soft, nearly soundless whisper of his name thrummed up his spine. His body, completely on its own, turned toward the sound of her voice. His feet forgot where the floor was and nearly brought him down.

She was breath-taking, sending his blood racing with the heat in her face. Ron watched as her eyes dropped to his lips and her breath shuddered out. His Hermione was thinking about kissing him. His hands clenched as he struggled to breathe.

Then Ron’s eyes helplessly followed her curls down her neck to the low v of her shirt. The fabric clung to her skin, outlining the shape of a body he could almost feel against his own. As she walked towards him, Ron helplessly swallowed at the flash of leg in the slit of her skirt. The idea of finally getting that smooth skin under his fingers had his hand shaking as it met hers.

“Hermione Ann Granger, you are so bloody beautiful.” And too far away. His free hand cupped her face. “I can’t believe you’re real.”

“Ron,” He gasped at the mix of her voice and the glide of her hands up his chest. “You look wonderful, Ron.” Those skilled fingers stroked up his neck to fist in his hair, pulling him down towards her lips.

Now it was a groan on his lips. If he kissed her here and now, they’d never get to dinner. “Not here,” Ron couldn’t bear to let her out of his arms even as he forcibly pulled away from her lips. “Let’s go.”

Tucking her close against his side, Ron knew he’d never hold out long enough without touching her. Sliding a hand along the bottom edge of her shirt, he brushed his thumb back and forth over one square inch of her skin. It wasn’t nearly enough contact, but it would keep him from pinning her to the nearest wall until neither of them could breathe. “Lead the way, Ron.”

Safely in the hallway, Ron knew he had to hurry. Wrapping Harry’s cloak around his shoulders, he smiled and opened his arms. “Come closer,”

Hermione’s smile stole his breath before the press of her back against his chest forced it from his lungs in a soft sigh. “Gladly. So where are we going?”

He meant to answer her, meant to tell her about the meal tucked away upstairs. The candles. But Hermione moved against him and words just vanished. Thought disappeared as every cell in Ron’s body focused entirely on getting closer to hers. His arms helplessly tightened across her hips, pressing himself harder against the curve of her back. “Hermione…”

She gasped in his arms, arching closer. “Ron,” Hermione was trying to drive him mad, dragging one hand along the outside of his thigh to pull him closer. “Please, Ronald.”

He knew exactly what she wanted because every cell in his body wanted it too. Contact. Touch. Heat. Helplessly turning her to face him, Ron caught her lips with his, groaning at the way she flattened herself against his chest and dived into the kiss.

This was what he’d needed for three long days. Ron had desperately missed the feel of her hands clenching on his back, in his hair. He’d needed the press of her body against his and the agile twist of her tongue around his. He’d needed to feel her curves under his hands. Ron still needed it.

Some small part of his brain knew the cloak was slipping and that soon they wouldn’t care. He had to pull back or they’d never get out of this hallway. “Hermione,” Moving his free hand to her cheek, he dragged his lips from hers. “Hermione, luv, we’ve gotta go.” Ron loved that she looked at him with dazed heat in her eyes.

She blinked, making him groan with the swipe of her tongue over her lips. “Yeah, I guess we should.” Her hands slid away from his skin and the loss of contact almost made Ron drag her back against his chest. Then she smiled, curiosity written on her sweet lips. “So where was it we were going?”

Yeah, he had that surprise dinner for her upstairs and there he wouldn’t have to pull back for fear of interruptions. “You’ll see, come on.” Keeping one hand fisting the cloak shut, Ron intertwined his fingers through hers, needing at least that much of her skin. “Stay close, this isn’t really built for two.”

Hermione cuddled against his side with a soft smile. “If you haven’t figured out yet that I’d stay close all on my own, you’re stupider than you look.”

“I’m no genius, but I’m smarter than that.”

“And a quick study.”

Ron’s legs nearly collapsed beneath him at the rush of sensory memories revolving around what he and Hermione had been ‘studying’ together the last month. They had to get out of this hallway or in about five seconds he’d have her pinned against that wall with his fingers seeking skin. And with the whole, Griffindor House about to pass through this hall on the way to dinner. “Come on, my little genius, our dinner’s getting cold.”

000

000

Afterschool ‘Studying’

By AnitaB

Chapter four: The touch of skin

Like she could think about food at a time like this. All Hermione could keep in her mind was him. The feel of Ron’s kiss. The touch of his skin under her hands.

She felt strong for having let Ron pull back in the hallway, and for walking beside him without tackling him to the floor.

And Hermione couldn’t wait to see what he’d planned for tonight. The paper crane had been beautiful, perfect. But this…

“The attic, Ron?”

Ron just smiled and pulled her closer, sweeping the cloak back off their shoulders. “Just look for yourself, luv.”

/Ronald Weasley…/ The small corner room was transformed. Candles glowed. A fleecy blanket was spread out on the floor next to a huge basket. And it had a door, a door that closed and locked. “It’s perfect, Ron, beautiful.” And private. It was time to get her Ronald out of that sweater. “Come here,” Sliding both hands into his, Hermione pulled him across the room.

His eyes dropped to her lips and her heart fluttered. She loved just how much Ron wanted to kiss her. Biting her lower lip, Hermione teased him to see how long he’d resist, gliding her hands along his arms and tilting her chin up to his. It didn’t take long. Painted nails barely cleared his elbows when those arms closed around her waist, crushing her body against his. “Hermione,” His lips found hers just in time to catch her groan as her hips rocked into his. /Ron,/ Clenching her fingers in his hair, Hermione tried desperately to get closer. Ron was still much too far away. And his kiss was far too distracting.

“Ron,” Putting both hands on his chest, Hermione pushed him back just enough to see the heat on his face. “I… I want to touch you, Ron.” She slid her fingers under the hem of that sweater, feeling his stomach flinch and tighten against her hands. At the breathless sound on his lips, Hermione dragged the fabric up his ribs.

Ron pulled back, out of her hands and peeled the sweater off over his head. Those hands dropped to his sides then reached for her. “Hermione, come here.”

Hesitation never occurred to her and Hermione found herself in his arms, eager hands exploring his back. He felt… so good pulling her tight against his body. “Ron,” From inches away Hermione watched his eyes caress first her face then the low neckline of her blouse. “Yes, please.” Her Ronald smiled, cupped a hand along her jaw, and touched gentle lips to her pulse.

/My Ronald,/ His hair seemed to appear between her fingers as her knees went weak. Then her knees quit as both Ron’s hands found skin. One slipped up the back of her shirt to hold her closer. /Yes,/ The other finally burned along the bare skin of her thigh. “Hermione… so sweet.”

His lips trailed down the line of her throat, following her gasping breath lower. /Blasted shirt./ Ron’s lips hit the edge of her hem, pulling away from her skin well before she’d had enough. “Ron,” Hermione needed more of him against her skin. “Ron, please.” Sliding her fingers down over the muscles of his shoulders, she reached for his buttons. Time for that shirt to go.

Three buttons opened under her eager fingers before Ron pulled back out of her reach. “Hermione,” His hands tightened against her skin, hiding his buttons in the fabric of her skirt as he dropped to his knees in front of her. The way he looked up at her … simply stole her breath. “I want to touch you, luv.” Both his hands slid down her body, caressing the length of her legs through the fabric and weakening every muscle along the way. Lord, Hermione loved his touched. And his voice. “I have to touch you, my precious Hermione.”

And somehow he expected her to stand through this? Hermione found herself gasping and digging her nails into his shoulders as those delicious hands dragged slowly up the skin of her legs from the ankles. “Ron,” She wasn’t made of stone and in about five seconds she’d be a boneless puddle of nerves in his lap. “Ron, please.”

Wordlessly groaning, her Ronald buried his face against her stomach and slid those hands higher, slipping past her knees. It was … too much. Her knees gave way and Hermione slid into his lap to a surprised gasp on his lips. “Hermione,” His hands, now almost at her hips, tightened to pull her even closer against his body. “Oh, luv.”

/Bloody hell,/ She couldn’t breathe enough to moan his name as every inch of her body strained to get closer to the hard pressure of him between her legs. Her Ronald felt so unbelievably good like this, palms hot against her thighs. Arms holding her tight. Body warm and eager and breathlessly close. “Lord, Ronald.” His hair slid between her fingers as her lips breathlessly claimed his. /Lord, please, more./

000

His Hermione was staring down at him with heat in her eyes. And Ron was burning from it. “I have to touch you, my precious Hermione.” His fingers found her ankles, spreading to rub as much of her soft, smooth skin as he could. “Ron,” Her voice was almost as beautiful as the feel of her nails digging into his shoulders. But the skin under his palms… “Ron, please.”

Groaning at the sound of his name, Ron hid his face against her side. Her eyes would melt him when her voice sounded like that. And Ron still needed more of her under his hands. He needed to feel… “Hermione,”

Everything. His fingers burned against the softest skin he’d ever touched. His eyes were obsessed with the soundless look on her face. And every inch of his entire body felt the way her hips were rocking against his. /Bloody hell, yes./ If he let her keep rubbing against him like that… “Oh, luv.” Clenching his hands, Ronald pulled his Hermione even harder over his hips and held her still.

From inches away, he watched her blink and swallow before a soft groan passed those beautiful lips. Then it was his turn to be breathless as her eyes locked to his and both her hands fisted in his hair. “Lord, Ronald.” Hermione’s Ron met her halfway to lose himself in the fierce sweetness of her kiss. /Cor, my sweet luv./

Far, far too soon, Hermione pulled back. Groaning, Ron found one of his hands had moved from the skin of her hip to the curve of her cheek. “Hermione,” About an inch from reclaiming those lips, he heard them utter something in Latin.

Now it was his turn to blink and swallow and tremble under her hands. /Bloody Brilliant, my little witch./ His Hermione had spelled away his shirt and was now rubbing eager hands over his skin. She was burning him, trailing fire in broad lines down his chest. “My Ron,”

He was going to collapse and it wouldn’t matter at all that he was already on his knees. Ron was about to puddle through the floor because Hermione was touching him with so much heat. “Hermione, please.” His fingers twined into her hair as his body helplessly leaned against hers. Weakly taking his fingers from her thigh, he dragged the mass of his sweater under her head and followed her body down to the blanket with his own. “Touch me, luv, please.”

Her groan brushed his lips and he leaned down for her kiss. Ron would never in his life get enough of kissing her. Or enough of her touch. /Hermione,/ Hot palms rubbed up the length of his back just before blunt nails dragged down the same path. /Bloody hell,/ Somehow his body knew exactly what to do with the shivering her nails caused, rocking his hips against hers. She felt… so good beneath him, nails digging into the skin of his back.

“Ron…” /Yes,/ One hand found the back of her knee, eagerly sliding his palm up her skin. Her breath trembled against his lips, as the muscles under his fingers twitched and trembled. The way Hermione reacted to him… “Touch me, Ron… please.”

“Hermione,” He was breathless as her entire body arched under his and her hand guided his fingers out of her hair along skin to her buttons. Shock brought his head up enough to see her eyes. Ron watched her teeth sink into her lower lip as she nodded to the question in his eyes. Hermione wanted his touch, wanted his hands and his lips on her skin. And there was nothing he wanted more than to give it to her. “Dear sweet luv,” Beyond his control, his hands raced for her skin, opening the shirt to the sound of her wordless groan. “So beautiful, Hermione.”

She was breathtaking… and his, lying in his arms half-dressed. /Hermione,/ Ron wanted this, needed to watch her skin under his hands. Starting at the band of her skirt, he slowly dragged both splayed hands up her waist and along her ribs. “Ron, please.” Hermione needed him and she was gonna get him. His fingers found the clasp of her bra as his lips touched the hollow of her throat. His mouth followed the arch of her back and the grip of her hands downward. Hooks and lace seemed to vanish under his hands and Hermione was suddenly bare under his eyes.

/So, beautiful…/ “Hermione?” His eyes found hers as his hands slowly cupped the softest skin on the planet. Her eyes fluttered as her entire body arched into the touch of his hands. The hesitation in him vanished at the sounds on her lips and the bite of her nails in the back of his neck. “Oh, Hermione, luv.” Lowering his head, Ron groaned at the smooth heat of her under his lips, against his tongue.

“Ron,” Her arms tightened around his shoulders and her legs crossed behind his back. “More, please, Ron.” Her heels pressed his hips harder between her thighs to the sound of two breathless gasps. “I need you, Ron.”

And he needed her. Needed her lips against his, her skin warming his. Pulling his mouth from her skin, Ron moved up, his eyes locked to hers. “I need you, Hermione, so much.” Hands sliding up her back, he pulled her naked chest flush against his own. “Oh, bloody hell…”

She was… burning him alive with so much of her skin against his. Her arms and legs held him tight. And she still wasn’t close enough. Ron struggled to breathe, lowering his head to capture her mouth with his own. He still needed more of her.

“Ron,” Hot fingers slid down his chest as her tongue went about exploring his. “Let me…” Hermione locked her eyes to his in the second before those fingers unfastened his top button. /Bloody hell, luv./ “Let me… touch you, Ron.”

Breathing was beyond impossible and Ron found himself simply nodding against the side of her neck. /Please, yes, please./ His hands trembled and clenched against her back as her hands slipped past the fabric to close around him. “Good bloody hell!” Heat, soft skin, the way her breath shuddered past his ear. He was melting helplessly into the exploration of her hands.

Hermione was killing him and, good lord, it was amazing. Cupping one hand along her jaw, Ron lost himself in the heat of her mouth and her hands. /Sweet brilliant girl./

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Afterschool ‘Studying’

By AnitaB

Chapter five: Needing more

He felt… so good, his lips on her skin, his arms holding her tight against his chest. /Yes, Ronald…/ He was kissing her and touching her. And it still wasn’t enough. Hermione needed more. She needed. “Let me…” Her hands found and opened the top button of his pants. And his entire body arched and trembled in her arms. It only made her want him more. “Let me… touch you, Ron.”

Hermione watched with a strange sense of pride as his eyes closed and his body melted over hers, his head nodding almost frantically against her shoulder. Her Ronald wanted this so badly. And that was beautiful. Almost as lovely as this… as the feel of him in her hands. “Good bloody hell!” She loved the harsh sound of his voice and the thrust of him into her grip. This was fascinating. Remembering to finally breathe, Hermione let her fingers explore him, feeling every inch of the smooth, hard warmth of him. /Oh, yes, my Ronald./

His hand burned along the skin of her cheek, bringing her lips back to the heat of his. Hermione loved the way Ronald kissed her… like she was everything. Like he needed her.

And she absolutely loved the way he held her. But it wasn’t enough. Hermione needed him closer. She needed all of him. “Ron,” Tightening her fingers around the length of him, Hermione sipped his groan off his lips. “I need you.”

And then it was Ron’s turn to breathe her wordless gasp as his fingers dragged slowly up the inside of her thigh. All the way to the cloth that still covered her. “You got me, Hermione, my luv.” His hand shifted, pressing flat against that thin layer of fabric. Ron smiled as her hips arched into the pressure of his fingers. “Your Ronald.”

When her eyes finally opened, Hermione found her nails embedded in the blanket beneath her and her leg curled tight around his hip. /My Ronald… oh, yes…/ She needed all these clothes gone. She needed him and she was going to get him. But first… “Ron,” Uncurling her hands, Hermione reached for the spelled line on her skirt, pulled a little foil square from it. “Don’t you think it’s time to lose those pants?”

His smile stole her breath and his fingers curled under the waistband of her skirt. “Think we can manage it with these in the way?” Hermione watched him sit back on his knees, eagerly lifting her hips to help Ron peel the clothes down her legs. The way he looked at her … she couldn’t breathe. “My beautiful little brainiac.”

/Ronald./ “My Ron, come here.” Running her fingers down his chest, Hermione smiled at the sight of him, kneeling half-dressed and breathless between her legs. Her Ron was getting harder just staring at her, naked and reaching for him. /Oh, yeah, that’s the sound…/ She loved it when Ron groaned just like that. “And lose the pants already.”

“Hermione,” Finally he slipped out of his clothes and moved back into her arms. “Where were we, luv?”

/Forgetting how to breathe…/ Hermione was drowning in the feel of his skin against all of hers. At last. “I think… you were right about… here.” Pulling him closer against her, she led his hand back to the inside of her knee, groaning softly at the heat of his skin.

“Actually, Hermione, I believe I was here.” His fingers slid up her thigh to stroke the wet heat of her. “Bloody hell, luv.” /Breathe, girl, breathe./ This felt … it was like every nerve in her body had moved to be under the touch of Ron’s fingers. Hermione distantly felt her nails digging into his back and the condom wrapper in her hand crinkling against his skin. If his fingers felt like this, she could only imagine how he would feel pressing inside her.

“Ron,” Forcing her hands open, Hermione fought to make her fingers work as his fingers kept trying to drive her insane. The condom wrapper was almost open when his hand pressed deeper. Hermione arched, gasped, and trembled, every muscle tightening all at once. “Ah… Ron, please.” Condom temporarily forgotten, she dragged his head down and captured his mouth with hers. /Ronald,/ Hermione needed him, had to feel Ron inside her. “Ron,” A burst of concentration got through the foil and her hands slid down his chest to roll over the hard length of him. Hermione couldn’t help but smile at his gasp and the arch of his hips. “I need you, this… now.”

“Hermione, luv.” Weakly pulling himself out of her hands, her Ronald looked right into her eyes with concern. “Are you sure, Hermione? I don’t want to hurt you.”

/Sweet Ronald,/ “I’m very sure, my Ronald.” Curling one arm around his shoulders, she pulled him close, making sure he could see the certainty on her face. “You won’t hurt me. And I want this… please.” Curling her legs around his waist, Hermione guided Ron into place. “Come here, Ron. Please.” /Please, Ron, please./

“Hermione…” Leaning down Ron kissed her, a long, slow caress of lips and tongue. Raising his head, he locked his eyes to hers and cupped a hand along her cheek. “Tell me if…”

Finally. There was so much drowning heat and the feel of a long, slow stretch. And Ron was pressing inside her so carefully. /Bloody hell, yes./ Burying her hands in his hair, Hermione breathed raggedly against his lips, fighting to keep her eyes open. She wanted to see his face this first time. And if he thought for even a second that this hurt… he’d stop. Hermione never wanted this to end. “Ron…” He was so warm, filling her inch by inch. This was so far beyond the feel of fingers that she never thought she’d breathe right again. But Hermione still needed more. “…Ah… please.”

000

Dear bloody hell this was real… and happening. Hermione’s fingers slid over him, her legs curling around his waist as he felt the barest flutter of her heart around his tip. “Come here, Ron, please.”

/Oh, bloody hell. Oh yes, luv./ Even if he tried to, he couldn’t breathe. And he couldn’t move. If Ron shifted one single muscle, he’d lose control. And he’d hurt her. /Breathe, Ronald, breathe./ “Hermione…” Leaning down, Ron slowly parted her lips under his, getting lost in the soft exploration of her. /Sweet girl, my beautiful luv./ “Tell me if…”

He tried to finish, tried to speak, but failed. Helplessly locking his eyes with hers, Ron fought to move slowly, carefully pressing deeper. She was … heaven, engulfing him in fire one tight inch at a time. /Hermione…/ Hermione’s fingers clenched in his hair and Ron treasured the rapid brush of her breath on his lips. He loved the look on her face as her body slowly accepted his. “Ron…” And her voice… Ron simply adored the way she gasped his name, helplessly pressing deeper. “Ah… please.”

He watched her eyes squeeze closed and her neck arch back. Painfully, Ron stilled, breathing raggedly against her ear. “Hermione?” He couldn’t hurt her. No matter how good she felt around him. “Hermione, am I…?”

Her arms and legs tightened around him to the sound of two breathless groans. “I’m fine… cor, Ron, you feel… so bloody good.” Her hands slid to his face pulling his eyes back to hers. “Please, Ron. I need you.” Hermione kissed him, her hips arching under his to pull him that small bit deeper.

/So bloody sweet./ “Oh, yes, luv.” Helpless before the touch and heat of her, Ron moved. Just like always, her body made sure that his knew exactly what to do with this feeling. Give it to her. “Hermione,” Threading both hands into her hair, Ron watched the melting heat on her face increase with each thrust of his hips. He felt her nails dig into the skin of his back as her body arched to meet his. /Sweet bloody hell…/

He loved the heat and movement of her, adored the grip of her legs around his ribs. Ron knew he could never get enough of her body clinging to his. “Ronald… ah… yes, my Ron.” And he absolutely adored the way she said his name and the breathless urgency of her kiss. “Please, Ron.”

The arch of her hips buried him deeper and stole his control. “Hermione…” He wanted, needed more. Sliding her knee up his side, Ron thrust deeper, watching her eyes flutter and feeling her tremble. And it still wasn’t enough. “Oh sweet luv.” He had to see that look on her face, needed to … watch her want him, need him. /Hermione,/ Taking her lips under his, Ron held her tight against his chest and rolled to his back.

“Ron?” Her hands fisted in the blanket before opening to rub over his shoulders.

“Please, luv,” His hips moved under hers helplessly, a gasp on his lips as her body picked up the rhythm. “Yes, luv. I want you to… need to see, feel. Please.” Ron’s hands slid up her thighs to help her hips rock harder over his. “Show me, Hermione, please.”

Her smile held enough heat to melt every bone in his body. Then she moved and it was like every nerve in all his skin moved to meet her. “My Ronald,” /My Hermione…/ Helplessly leaning up for her kiss, Hermione’s Ron clung to the smooth curve of her waist as she sat up and braced her hands on his chest. “Watch, my Ron.”

Giant cave trolls couldn’t have pulled his eyes away from her face as his girl moved against and around him in a slow, careful up and down stroke. “Sweet bloody hell… luv.” Fingers helplessly clenched against her hips as Hermione rode him faster. The look on her face as her body took his deeper… Ron was about to burst into flames from the heat of her eyes. “So close, so sweet.” Sitting up, Ron groaned into her kiss at the squeezing of her body around his. He would never get enough of this, of her. All of her. Sliding his hands up her ribs, Ron kissed his way down her throat. “So beautiful,” Simply irresistible. He moved one hand to support the middle of her back as his lips found the unbelievably soft skin of her breast. “So soft and sweet… luv.” He adored the arch and tremble of her body as he worshipped her. Almost as much as he needed the bite of her nails in his back and the urgent rhythm of her hips over his.

“Ron, please…” His Hermione was close, he could hear it in her voice, feel it in the rippling of her muscles around him. And Ron needed to feel her go over, shatter around him. Groaning wordlessly, he slipped a hand between her legs, fingers rubbing in time with her thrusts. /Come on, luv, show me./ “Ah… Ron…” Her entire body twitched in his arms, arching to press him deeper inside her. Almost there, so close. Ron pulled the peak of her breast into his mouth. Such soft, warm skin.

He would never get enough of her, against his hands, his lips. Wrapped hot and wet around him. “Cor, luv, please.” Cupping her cheek in one hand, Ron desperately caught her lips with his. She was going to make him explode and it would be all he could do to take her with him. She was so close. “Love you, Hermione… love you, my brilliant girl. Please.”

Her breath hitched and her hips jerked against his. “Ron…” Her eyes found his and the heat built even higher. “My Ron… love you.”

The universe suddenly shrank to the sound of her words and the heat of her skin. Almost painful pleasure drowned him as Hermione dug nails into his back and shattered in his arms. “Hermione!”

“Ron!” His name shouted against his lips was immediately followed by the breathless, desperate kiss and a slow, boneless collapse down to the blanket.

/Hermione loves me./ Still breathless, still drowning, Ron tilted her chin up and lost himself in the softest, sweetest kiss. /my beautiful luv./

000

He felt… so good. Lips pulling gently at her skin. Hands tightening on her hips. The hard length of him inside her rubbing fire over all her nerves. She couldn’t help digging her nails into his back any more then she could control the movements of her hips or the breathless sound of his name. “Ron, please…” Hermione felt every nerve in her entire body leap and spark at the touch of fingers, his fingers finding. “Ah… Ron,”

Something shined just out of reach, coming closer with each glide of his fingers, each arch of her hips, each tug of his mouth at her breast. “Cor, luv, please.” Fingers trailed along her cheek to bring her lips to his. Even now, amongst all this feeling, Hermione loved and needed his kiss. /Please, my Ronald./ “Love you, Hermione…” His lips caressed hers, nearly losing the sound of his words in another kiss. “Love you, my brilliant girl.”

Every cell in her body heard and felt those words, and Hermione had to fight a wave of sensation long enough to tell him back. /Need to say it, need to see./ “Ron…” Locking her eyes to his, she helplessly moved against him, trying to speak. “My Ron… love you.” Breath gone, Hermione watched his face until the wave crashed over them both. Distantly, she felt his skin give under her nails and heard his voice shout her name. Drowning in the sensations, Hermione knew she screamed his name before collapsing against his chest.

This was Heaven. And then, just like always, Ron somehow made it better. He slid his fingers along her jaw, tilting her chin up. Hermione loved the soft, sweet… loving caress of his lips and tongue. /Bloody hell, Ron loves me…/ And she loved him. Loved his smile, his loyalty. The feel of his hair between her fingers. The touch of his skin.

“Hermione,” And she loved the way he looked at her, the way he said her name. “This isn’t exactly what I planned for tonight, my luv.” ‘This’ was marked by a short hand gesture that included their scattered clothes and the naked sprawl of her body over his. Then that hand was back on her skin, stroking up and down the outside of her thigh.

Her fingers weren’t idle either, rubbing along his chest and shoulders. “What… exactly… did you plan for tonight, my Ron?”

“Dinner, for starters.” His lips brushed hers with a smile. “And a little ‘studying’ to be sure.” His arms pulled her closer to the sound of a soft groan. “Three days without touching you…” /Dear bloody hell, Ron… the way you look at me…/ Not letting him finish, Hermione wound her fingers in his hair and dragged his lips to hers. Never, she’d never get enough of kissing her Ronald.

Hermione forced herself back from his lips with a gasp. “It was a really, really long three days, huh, my Ron?”

“Yes, my brilliant Hermione, it was a very long three days.” Ron’s hands tightened against the line of her back and she was helpless to ignore their guidance. Hermione found herself flat against his chest, claiming his lips in a deep and completely breathless kiss. Nothing ever felt as good as her Ronald worshipping her with a kiss. “Hmm, sweetheart,” Another deep, but quick kiss later, he actually managed to pull back enough for a shared smile. “I promised you dinner and you wouldn’t believe the spells I had to wrangle for the kitchen staff to get this up here.”

There was a weak groan on his lips as he helped her off his hips and pulled her back into his arms in the same motion. Apparently Ron was just as skin hungry as she was. The desire to just spend the next four hours wrapped in nothing but his touch was… very hard to resist. But he had been so sweet to set all this up, just for her.

Hermione struggled to a compromise she could live with. “Dinner sounds great, Ron, but unless you want me tackling you again before we’re done eating, then you can’t get all the way dressed.” She helplessly rubbed both hands down the warm, strong lines of his chest and arms. “If you hide all this gorgeous skin from me, I will feel the need to uncover it again.” Hermione bit her lip at the trembling and twitching of his muscles under her fingers. “It would be bad if I was forced to spell your shirt back to your closet, three floors down.”

“Hermione…” His lips claimed hers with a low, desperate groan, his tongue exploring every delighted inch of hers. “Hmm, yes, that would be bad. How about you wear it instead and leave me your gorgeous legs to look at while we eat.” His hands matched his words, dragging heat down the outside of her hips to rub up and down the length of her thighs. It felt… so bloody good, Hermione was about three seconds from climbing right back over his lap for more of that gorgeous heat against her skin. “That way I’m not forced to do something to your clothes before dessert.”

Speech was necessary. Her Ron was looking at her for permission and there she was trembling and biting her lip just to kept herself from begging for more. And the proud, self-satisfied smile on his lips said he knew exactly what he’d done.   /That’s my Ronald…/   Hermione gave up a little pride by simply nodding and pulling out of his arms to reach for the shirt.

“That’s my brilliant girl.” Ron helped her slide her arms into the sleeves and took over the task of closing the buttons down the front. But only a few of them. When he reached for her hands to help roll up the cuffs, Hermione knew she had to stop him. Ron kneeling completely naked within arm’s length wasn’t going to get them eating dinner. Especially when she was dying to wrap her fingers around the slowly hardening length of him.   When he came higher on his knees to arrange the collar of his shirt against her throat, Hermione dug her nails into the palms of her hands to keep herself from reaching out to distract him. It was a close thing.

“Pants, Ron. You need pants right bloody now or we’re not eating dinner at all. Please.” His low chuckle tightened nerves and muscles all over her body.

“Yes, luv. Go break open the basket and I’ll make myself somewhat presentable.” He finally moved out of touching distance. But it was still all Hermione could do to drag her eyes off the lines and angles of him while he dragged on the pants she’d asked for. /Food, Hermione, get dinner ready./

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Afterschool \'Studying\'