So I was getting a bit stuck with "Across the Table" and decided to take on another (shorter) challenge while I got myself sorted out... this was it. It's written for femme fetal's "Seven Kisses Challenge". This is seven of the (presumably many) kisses in the life of Ron and Hermione.

I Innocence

She looked so fragile, lying there, dwarfed by the hospital bed with its indifferent white sheets. Ron was continually drawn to her bedside by some unknown force, and he sat and stared at her unseeing eyes, wishing desperately that they were closed so he could pretend she was asleep. Instead, a feeling of anxiety sat heavy in his stomach, even when he was sitting in lessons or talking with Harry.

Like he'd seen his mother do for his brothers and sister when they were sick, Ron reached out a hand to touch her hair. And then, without thinking, without really knowing why, he leant forward and pressed his tender lips to hers.

He never told anyone about that kiss. It was his own special, private moment, something no one had ever shared with her before. He never even told Hermione, because he didn't know how to, but sometimes, somehow, he thought she knew.

*

II Desperation

She didn't know whether it was the uncertainty of the battle, the adrenaline coursing through her veins or his concern for the house elves. All Hermione knew was that she had abandoned every restraint that she'd carefully built up over the years and was now kissing him with almost reckless enthusiasm.

She hadn't paused to think whether he would return the kiss, and yet amazingly he was. She could taste him, feel him pressed up against her. For one of the first times in her life, Hermione forgot all her inhibitions and acted completely on instinct.

She tightened her hold on his neck to bring his face even closer to hers and give her tongue better access to his unexplored mouth. His fingers at her waist pressed harder into her flesh, as if they were both determined to squeeze as much of each other into his moment as they could. For those few brief seconds, amidst the chaos of war, there was only them, and it was perfect.

*

III Awkwardness

It had been exactly seventy-nine hours since it happened. It was much more like Hermione to keep track like that than Ron, but he'd found himself obsessing over her and The Kiss, probably to keep his mind off everything that separated him from that moment.

He found himself trying to find ways to be alone with her, yet was frightened of what might happen if he was. But finally (terrifyingly?) they were the only ones left in the sitting room late that night, seventy-nine hours after it happened.

"Ron—"

She's started speaking but it was too late; he'd already begun moving towards her. His mouth swallowed her words and she gave a muffled squeak in surprise. His hand was rough on her cheek and his mouth was hard on hers.

With dismay he realised she was pushing at his chest. He pulled his face away from hers, eyes immediately falling to the floor. "Sorry," he muttered. He couldn't believe he'd already screwed it up—actually, yes he could. He was always screwing it up when it came to her.

Her eyes, though, were full of tenderness. "It's okay," she said. "I do want this, Ron. Just… not yet."

*

IV Passion

The lights of a strange city twinkled in the distance, but the countryside around them was very dark indeed. The air outside was frigid but the little cottage was warm and cosy, thanks to a roaring fire provided by the Australian Ministry official who met them at the Portkey Office.

"I wish Harry could have come," said Ron, stroking Hermione's hand with his thumb.

"I'm sort of glad," said Hermione. "It's nice to have time, just the two of us."

There was no mistaking the look in her eyes. She leant towards him and tilted her face up. He met it eagerly.

The kiss began soft and slow, like all the others since that disastrous second one. But something was different that night; maybe it was the firelight, or the anticipation of being so close to their goal. Whatever it was, her fingers were soon tangled in his hair, and his hand found its way under all her layers of clothes to close on her warm waist.

Hermione gave a little moan. It was this that gave Ron the courage to slide his hand higher up her back until he felt the lace edge of her bra. She moaned again. Ron was amazed that he gained even more pleasure from this sound, this evidence of her own satisfaction, than from the feel of her mouth or her skin.

Breathless, she finally pulled away. His hands still caressed the sensitive skin of her back. The intensity of their shared gaze enthralled and frightened them. His voice came out soft and rough. "I love you." The words felt strange on his lips.

*

V Reunion

She had been listening for him for hours. Once upon a time, two months would have seemed like nothing, but these two months without him had been agony.

There it was—the telltale pop. She banged open the door and there he was, his face hard and determined, reminding her of Ginny. Without a word she was caught up in his embrace, their mouths finding the connection they had both been craving.

He felt different, Hermione realised, as the part of her mind that was always analysing kicked into action. His arms and chest were harder against her body, the muscles more defined. She dimly supposed that two months of intense training as part of Auror qualification would do that to you.

She tugged at his hair in an attempt to bring him even closer, trying feel and taste as much of him as she could, to tell him how much she'd missed him without words. Although his kiss was ardent and forceful, his expression was gentle when he finally pulled away.

"Hi," he said, and she laughed. Her life was whole again.

*

VI Relief

"Ron!"

She looked so distressed, he almost laughed. He knew how he must look—the dirt, the bruises, the blood (most of it not his, thankfully), the Healer brandishing nasty-smelling paste—but really, she had nothing to worry about.

She ran to him and took his face gingerly in her hands. "Relax," he said. "I'm fine."

"But…" Her eyes were still wide with worry. "I heard—an attack—St Mungo's—"

"Hermione," he said firmly. "I'm okay. Really."

"It's true," said the Healer. "Just a few bruises. Now hold still Mr Weasley. You won't thank me if this stuff gets in your eyes."

Obedient, Ron held his head still as the Healer dabbed at a growing bruise on his hairline. He took Hermione's trembling hands and smiled patiently.

"There," said the Healer.

"May I kiss my wife now?" asked Ron.

"You may," said the Healer with a smile. "He really is okay, Mrs Weasley."

She still didn't look quite convinced as she eyed his bloodstained robes, but she soon forgot her concern as he pressed his lips to hers. She responded fervently, curling her fingers into the front of his robes, until—

"Ahem," said the Healer.

*

VII Bliss

For the first time in her life (or at least, the bits of it that mattered), Hermione was not worried about anything.

"There are no dark wizards pursuing an evil vendetta against our best friend," said Hermione.

"We're not hiding from Voldemort in a godforsaken tent, freezing our arses off," said Ron with a grimace.

"My parents aren't on the other side of world, with no idea that I exist."

"My sister isn't trying to sneak into battle."

"My husband isn't out risking his life everyday," said Hermione.

"I know," said Ron. "It feels amazing. I still feel bad for leaving Harry alone, though."

"Don't," said Hermione. "Harry can look after himself. And he understands. You did it for all of us."

"Our family," said Ron with awe.

He drew the fabric of her shirt up over the gentle swell of her belly, before placing a kiss on her navel. They both gazed at the evidence of their growing family for a few moments. Finally, Ron lifted his head, and was met by his wife's lips on his.

I'm so used to writing in present tense for "Across the Table" now that I kept slipping into it when I was writing this story. It got EXTREMELY frustrating.

Also, I totally want to write the whole story of Ron and Hermione's adventure in Australia to find her parents... mostly because I live in Australia ;) By the way, I imagined that the city they are staying near in this story is Melbourne - I was picturing the view from Mount Macedon when I wrote that.

Please review!