A/N: My first attempt at anything even remotely citrusy lies ahead. Should I make these warnings in future chapters? I've seen some fics do that, but I also feel like the rating itself speaks to that sort of content. Just let me know what you think!

Chapter 15

Before he can reply with something so sweet that it'll make me cry again, before I lose my nerve and feel embarrassed for deliberately wearing just the thin cotton shirt that I sleep in, before I start to truly regret how I wasted all of our final week by keeping myself away from him - I kiss him. I kiss him like I've wanted to kiss him since that night on the beach.

Ever since he came to me about his letter, I've wanted nothing more than to show him how much I want him. That I want him as much as he clearly wants me, as his actions regarding sending the response to Kingsley have shown me. I didn't think him capable of such selflessness, but I have never been more glad to be wrong. Even if he is still going to be in danger, I have the full knowledge that if it really came down to it, he would have put us first. That knowledge is as overwhelming as it is touching.

So instead of being overwhelmed, instead of being intimidated, instead of being afraid - I embrace it. I wrap myself around him, keeping him close to the most intimate parts of my being. I start feeling deliciously reckless as I thrust my tongue into his mouth, teeth colliding, to taste him, to challenge him.

He does not disappoint. He lifts me up from on top of him and pushes me onto my back, my head hitting the pillows as he moves to cover me like a mould. I can feel my pulse ringing in my ears as he drags his lips from my mouth to my neck, breathing hotly against the sensitive skin there. I start to shift against him as his mouth descends, feeling heat pool below my navel, hoping to relieve some of the tension that had been building inside of me ever since he Apparated into my room.

His beautiful blue eyes, appearing electrified with excitement, look up at me as kisses me lower still, moving a sleeve of my shirt off my shoulder to expose more skin. Although I'd love for him to taste more, I sense hesitation as he slows to a stop, coming back to my face to kiss me again once before leaning back. His face is flushed. "Is this okay?"

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I respond by pulling him close to kiss him again. After some time, I can't help but think of my aching breasts as I arch up against him. Would it be completely inappropriate of me to ask him to touch them? Not that we're exactly in the realm of propriety at this point, but I want to show him what I want without breaking this wonderful haze that has come over us.

As if sensing my inner turmoil, Ron pulls back to prop himself on one side with his elbow, his eyes traveling up and down me. I shiver as I realize that my shirt had risen during our embrace, exposing the tops of my thighs and the slightest hint of my white cotton knickers. Strangely, though, I'm not embarrassed or afraid, so I make no move to pull down my shirt. Our legs still intertwined, he murmurs, "What do you want, Hermione?"

My cheeks heat up at the question. Although I know what I want, I'm too proud to verbalize it. I bite my lower lip as he places his large freckled hand on my belly, the contact causing a jolt of sensation throughout me. I think he could do just about anything at this point and I'd be on board with it. "I think you should follow your instincts," I reply. I can be stubborn, even if my body throbs.

He chuckles at that, offering me one of his lopsided smiles. "I guess I'm going to have to work at this to find out. Not that I mind in the slightest." His voice is low, incredibly alluring while managing to be playful. He grins at me as he places his hands at the bottom of my shirt, but doesn't move further.

I'm curious if he plans on taking it off. I'm not convinced that I'd want to stop him. He must know by now that I have nothing but knickers on underneath this shirt. Meanwhile, he has all his clothes on. I should correct this gross inequity immediately. "You first."

With little more than a shrug, Ron sits up and lifts his shirt off of him. I should have known. The boys practice Quidditch without their shirts on all the time. I have to up the ante. "Those too," I tack on with a blush as I gesture to his jeans.

"I'm starting to think you wanted a little more than I thought," he teases, waggling his eyebrows.

I gasp, sounding scandalized enough to cover how I'm actually thinking that I want just about everything at the moment. "Oh, come on! I just figured it would be fair, since I'm not wearing anything but knickers underneath this shirt," I reply, more matter-of-factly than anything else, but it still causes Ron's teasing grin to slacken into something a little more smoldering.

"How about this," he murmurs as he lays back down beside me, his newly exposed chest burning against my side. "I'm not going to take anything of yours off until you ask me to."

"If you insist," I whisper back with a smile. Frankly, I wish that he had continued, but I enjoy the aspect of a challenge. "But you might be in for a wait. You're probably better off just doing it."

"We'll see about that." His statement is a hot whisper against my ear. I'm immediately back to where I was before - my pulse ringing in my ears, my body slick with heat, the tips of my breasts standing at attention. I lean in to kiss him again, partially to cover my embarrassment and partially because it had been too long since I had, but he beats me to it. Far from the desperate mashing of mouths that occurred earlier, his lips caress mine gently, almost reverently as he places one of his hands on my upper thigh.

Does he think that he can just bypass taking off the shirt at all? An easy way out, but I don't disapprove if it means he'll continue to touch me. I let out an unintelligible noise as my eyes flutter closed. His large hand skirts quickly above my bum, raising my shirt to completely expose my lower half to the cold air, to rest on my lower back. In response to the cold, I throw one of my legs around his, pulling him closer to me as we continue our sultry, languid kisses. His touch slowly makes his way up my body under the thin cotton shirt, causing a trail of chills on my overheated skin. I become even more aware of him when his hand rests under my arms, his thumb grazing the side of the swell of my breast.

I breathe his name into his kiss, my voice barely a whisper, the word having no purpose other than it needing to be said. I shiver as he traces the curve of one breast, but he does not move further. I open my eyes a bit to see him looking at me with hesitation.

I can't help but wonder why he is being so careful. From what I know of his fiery nature, his interactions with me whenever we have an intense snog seem completely out of character for him. It feels like he is always worried about me. I make a mental note to ask him about this, but I'm feeling too much to address his unnecessary concerns at the moment. Impatiently, I grab the hand under my shirt and guide his fingers to the tip of my breast, watching as his face turns from concern to awe. At long last, Ron grazes the pads of his fingertips against the raised skin, gently squeezing the nub between his fingers as he leans in to kiss me. I press myself shamelessly into his hand, my breath shallow against his lips.

Much to my dismay, Ron pulls away his hand to gently push my shoulder, directing me to lay back. Once I comply, Ron's hand returns to my breast while his mouth finds my neck. Propping himself up with his other arm and a knee in between my legs, Ron slowly leaves a trail of kisses down the column of my neck, past my collarbone and down to my chest. I gently press his head with my hand, encouraging him to continue his descent. I immediately regret keeping my shirt on as his hot mouth finds my previously neglected breast, kissing its tip wetly through the cotton material.

I let out a moan that probably would have embarrassed me if I had the energy to care, but all of it is devoted to the man at my breasts and the heat between my legs. Ron, to his credit, does not even so much as chuckle. If anything, my strange noises spur him on, inspiring him to stroke, to lick, to bite as he pleases. Before long, I'm grinding myself on the leg that rests at my core, which would have been more satisfying if it weren't for the rough material of his jeans.

"Ron," I call throatily, looking down at him to see the top of his red head. "Your pants."

Ron looks up at me from my chest, his eyes heavy lidded. "My pants?"

I pant as I try to catch my breath. "Yeah," I breathe. "They're chafing me a bit."

"Oh," he replies, looking disoriented himself. "Should we stop?"

Stopping hadn't even occurred to me until he brought it up. I was just going to ask him to take them off, but perhaps stopping was a better option. Things are escalating pretty quickly. "Yeah," I say, disappointed. I glance at the clock on my nightstand. It's already past midnight. "It's pretty late."

"It's no problem," he replies, giving me a long kiss before rising from the bed to find his shirt.

Although I'm aware that we should stop, I don't want him to leave. After all, this will be the last time we will be alone for a long time. "Want to spend the night? It should be fine as long as you get up before my parents wake up."

Ron smiles at me, dropping the shirt that he was about to put on. "Sure."

As I scoot over to make room on the small bed, I look at him skeptically. "Will you be able to sleep with those jeans on?"

I can see Ron's skin flush in what little remains of the candlelight as he joins me on the open side of the bed. He smiles at me sheepishly. "No, but I reckon that I'll need a few more minutes before I can take them off. Just to be safe."

I blush knowingly. I can empathize, but my symptoms are a little less obvious. With a large sigh, I nuzzle into Ron's shoulder, willing sleep to overtake the desire that remains within me.

But it doesn't. Several minutes pass, but the heat doesn't leave my body. Although I end up lying on my side and facing the wall, I know when Ron takes off his pants since he needs to spoon me in order to fit on my twin sized bed. He's so large and warm against my back, his arm wrapped around me possessively. His innocent shifting causes the skin of his bare legs to brush against mine, causing delicious sensations.

It isn't long before Ron starts to lightly snore, but I'm still wide awake with adrenaline. Although I am inexperienced in most ways when it comes to being sexual with a partner, I'm not a complete prude. I know that I could just relieve this problem myself. If anything, it'd be practical to do so. If I don't go to sleep soon, I'm going to be useless during my first day as Head Girl. I can't have that.

Am I really going to justify doing this? Ron's snoring reassures me that he wouldn't notice. It could be so quick. He'd be none the wiser, and then I can go to sleep. Which, again, is important. Vital to my success. This rationale stays with me as I quietly slide the hand that isn't trapped against the bed into my white cotton knickers. I'm embarrassingly wet, but I try not to linger on that.

My fingers start massaging the bundle of nerves between my legs in familiar patterns, making quick work of my inconvenient state. My eyes flutter shut, and I start imagining what I typically do when I do this. I'm in the girls' dormitory at Hogwarts, but I'm not alone. Different hands are on me. His hands. His lean body is flush against mine. A shocking mop of red hair. Stormy blue eyes, staring at me intently. I imagine his hand on my chest, his hardness against my back. His low voice is raw when he tells me how much he wanted this. I tell him that I'm his to do with as he pleases. I'm putty in his hands. With his name spilling from my lips, I feel as if warm tension is radiating throughout my body, releasing itself in waves.

Roused from my fantasy, I realize how loudly I'm breathing, but other than that it's quiet. Almost too quiet. It's then that I notice that I'm still feeling the heaviness on my chest, the hardness against the small of my back. Ron's hand squeezes my breast roughly. "Fuck," he whispers gruffly against my hair.

My sentiments exactly. I flush with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry," I breathe against the wall, not willing to face him. "I couldn't sleep. I figured I could take care of it without waking you."

Perhaps sensing my embarrassment, he teases in a low voice, "Well, clearly you were mistaken, Miss Granger. I never thought I'd hear such a ruckus from you."

I can't help but chuckle. Now that I know that he isn't going to take this too seriously, I start to feel myself drifting as I relish his warmth. "I'm sorry. I'll be sure to keep it down in the future," I mumble.

"The only thing you should be sorry for is not asking me to take care of it for you. I can be awfully generous when I put my mind to it," he replies playfully, his tone contrasting wildly with the hard part of him that is pressed against me.

Maybe it's the sleepiness talking, but I barely think about it when I ask, "Do you want me to take care of you?"

I can feel his body stiffen. Although I can't see him, I imagine that his face might be the same shade as his hair. However, his voice seems unaffected when he says, "That won't be necessary. I reckon someone should exercise some self control tonight, don't you?"

I tiredly swat the arm that is wrapped around me. "Oh, shut up," I demand, although my voice betrays my exhaustion. "Your teasing will be the death of me."

"Well, at least you'll go out on a high note," he whispers. I smile as my eyes drift shut, his arms wrapped around me.

Five hours later, I wake to the alarm that I had set. While it is too early to worry about my parents intruding, I am not willing to take any chances.I nudge Ron awake, gesturing to the window. Reluctantly, Ron kisses my forehead before getting out of bed. As he walks to find his clothes, I try not to stare as I realize that he is still only in his boxers. It reminds me of the mental note I had made last night.

"May I ask you a question?"

My whisper is met with a curious raise of an eyebrow, barely visible in the early morning light. As Ron pulls his pants back on, he says, "Shoot."

I smile as I wrap my blanket around me, trying not to linger on his dressing form. "I can't help but notice that you've been kind of hesitant when we… you know… I just wanted to make sure that everything is okay."

"I'd say they're bloody fantastic," he replies as he searches the floor for his abandoned shirt. "I just want to make sure you're comfortable, y'know?"

"Yeah, but," I say, feeling embarrassed. "You just seem uncharacteristically cautious. I've never exactly known you for your tact. No offense."

Far from looking offended, he just shrugs. As he picks up his shirt, he replies, "As your dad ever so kindly reminded us, I've treated you like shite in the past. I think I've learned how to better handle these situations."

I'm a bit surprised by his candor, although such admissions have become more frequent as our relationship has grown. "I wouldn't say you treated me like that," I say, unwilling to repeat the exact word. "And it's not like we've had much context for this specific situation anyway."

"What situation, exactly?" His face is obscured by the shirt he is putting on, but I can tell that he is teasing me.

"You know. The sexual one," I reply firmly, although I can feel warmth in my cheeks. "I'm just curious where this mindset of yours is coming from. I never imagined you'd be so cautious about this. Always checking in to see if I'm alright. Barely doing anything unless I've explicitly asked you to."

"I say, is Hermione Granger chastising me for being the perfect gentleman?" He smirks from across the room as he sits down on the floor to put on his shoes. "I'd never thought I'd see the day."

His evasiveness is not helping my suspicions. "You're avoiding the question. Did you upset Lavender when you two fooled around or something?"

"Merlin, no," He replies with indignation. "If anything, she was too bloody eager."

I bite my lip, trying to not be bothered by the implications of his statement. "What is it, then?"

He heaves a sigh as he finishes tying his shoelaces. "Promise not to take the Mickey out of me?"

"Of course," I reply. As he returns to the bed, I sit up to make room for him. We sit side by side, our sides barely touching. He takes another heavy breath, as if he already regrets what he has yet to tell me.

"Although I knew I liked you for a while, I reckoned that you never saw me that way. It wasn't until our sixth year when Slughorn's party came up that I thought that you might actually feel the same way. So when I buggered things up by going on with Lavender, I knew I had to make drastic measures to turn things around. So… I read a book," He says solemnly.

I have to force myself not to laugh. "You're the only person I know that would say reading a book is a drastic measure. What book was it?"

"Remember that you promised," He says emphatically. I nod, biting my lip to prevent myself from smiling. With another sigh, he says, "Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches."

I bite my lip to the point where it could have bled before laughter starts bubbling out. "I'm- so- sorry," I reply between heaving breaths. "I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't that."

He scowls, not amused by my laughter. "Laugh all you want, but the book's pure gold. I feel like it's a big reason that you started liking me back."

I take a couple of calming breaths as I look at him fondly. "I cared for you long before you resorted to reading a book."

His face softens. "Well, either way, it taught me a bloody lot. It basically showed me how to treat you so that you'd know how I felt without me actually saying it. Things that I never even thought about ended up making a huge difference. I could tell, because all of the sudden we were doing things we never had. Holding hands, cuddling, that sort of thing. It really worked."

Well, I couldn't argue with that, even if the title of the book was nauseating. His consideration, compliments, and overall demeanor change that starting occurring before the hunt for the Horcruxes did make me more certain that he liked me romantically. "So, what does the book say about snogging?"

"Just to be respectful. Make sure that the girl is enjoying everything. Let her set the pace," He mumbles, his gaze fixed on the burgeoning sunrise outside of my window. "As much as I'm loving this awkward conversation, I probably should get going."

"Probably," I say with a sad smile, remembering that I'm heading back to school today. "But for the record, I really enjoy being with you like that. I trust you so much, Ron. I know you'd never do anything that you weren't sure I was comfortable with. You shouldn't worry."

"Well, that's good to know," He grins, his face reddening. He leans over to kiss me briefly before saying, "I'll see you at the station."

"I'll be the one with the suit cases," I reply. As he disappears with a pop, I stand to look at the packed baggage around me, ready to start my last year at Hogwarts.