A/N: My first ever straight lemon. And my second ever lemon. I'm not straight, so you can't judge me if this is a piece of shit. You just aren't allowed to. I forbid it. Other than the not judging me, feel free to review this. That's allowed.

It was impossible to feel like this.

It was impossible, should have been impossible, had to be impossible. But somehow, was possible. Because Ron did feel like this.

Harry had disappeared long ago, probably off to reunite with Ginny or else just to sleep.

Ron couldn't imagine sleeping at this point. He was so full of adrenaline, so emotionally drained, and still full of so much emotion.

He looked over at Hermione. Her eyes were dry but pain was written all across her face. And relief. Ron felt exactly the same way. Pained and relieved. He wanted to laugh and cry. These emotions were impossible. But they were happening.

He felt Hermione's fingers lace in with his. He looked down at them and smiled a genuine smile. This was what it felt like to hold hands with someone.

He and Hermione walked together, through the empty halls of Hogwarts. Their quiet footsteps echoed, the only noise within a mile, deafening. They made their way through the shadows, letting their feet lead the way. This was what it felt like to be alone.

They walked until they reached a passageway flooded with light. Turning, they climbed up carpeted steps and stood in the entrance of the Great Hall. Bodies lay everywhere; grieving families torn apart came together to comfort each other, crying for their lost loved ones. This was what it felt like to mourn.

Hermione shook her head; I can't see this right now. They turned around, made their way down the lit steps and back into the dark corridors. Ron squeezed Hermione's hand and pulled her into an empty classroom. Let's focus on the positive…He's gone. We did it. A smile crept onto Hermione's face, which Ron returned. We did it. This was what it felt like to celebrate.

He kissed her, hands sliding down her back. She arced into him, kissing him back. Their lips crushed together; tender, and then not. Ron's hands wandered under Hermione's shirt, feeling the warm skin of her hips and the expanse of her back. Hermione ripped Ron's already tattered shirt off, trying to set her own pace. He tried to slow her down. She wrapped her leg around his hips, pulling them closer. This was what it felt like to battle for dominance.

He unbuttoned her shirt slowly. She unhooked her own bra, not wasting any time. Both ratty pieces of fabric were soon on the floor. In the moonlight, Ron saw the peak of her breasts and her rose pink nipples, begging to be touched. He heard her, begging to be touched. He complied. This was what it felt like to be wanted.

She moved into his hands. He felt other parts of her move into him as well. He moaned; she moaned. They both giggled. She kissed him; bit his lower lip hard enough to hurt a little; rolled her tongue over it; bit again. He marveled at how deft her tongue was and how soft her breasts were. He thumbed her nipples, and she moaned again, moving her hands to his tented trousers, undoing his zipper. She shoved his trousers down and reached into his boxers. This was what it felt like to be touched.

She stroked him softly and he whimpered. 'Mione. She smirked; squeezed. He gasped, eyes suddenly flying open. 'Mione! His hands left her breasts and snaked their way to her trousers, unbuttoning. Before pulling them down, he gave her a questioning look. Are you sure? She looked desperate. Just touch me, Ron. He pulled down her trousers. His hands hovered over her panties. Ron, please. He slipped his hand inside her panties, parting her wet folds. This was what it felt like to touch.

Quiet moans filled the room. You feel so good. Sighs. You feel bloody brilliant. Whimpers. And giggles. Sorry—I'm ticklish there. The speed picked up, and then Hermione stopped. I want to feel you inside me. He groaned and quickly shoved her panties down, and she, his. The pair moved to an old desk. She lay back, her legs spread, and he climbed on top. He hesitated at her entrance. Stop waiting. Fuck me now, Ron. He slid into her tight entrance with a moan. Her face showed both pain and pleasure; her heels dug into his back as he picked up the pace. This was what it felt like to fuck.

She began to move into him; began to moan. The noises she made drove him crazy, brought something primal out in him. He needed to make her make those noises more—louder. He thrust into her rhythmically, feeling himself go deeper into her tight space. I love how wet you are. She moaned louder. Screamed. He screamed and moved faster, feeling himself reaching climax. He came, bliss rising up his body in waves. This was what it felt like to lose control.

She was not done. He continued thrusting, for her. His hand moved down to rub her clit. She screamed, screamed his name, and screamed I love you. Her toes curled; her inner walls tightened. Her screams echoed through the stone classroom as her orgasm took over her entire body like an explosion. I love you, she said again. Tears streamed down her cheeks. I love you too, he said. This was what it felt like to love.

She pulled him into an embrace and held him tightly. He cried and cried, their tears mixing together. They kissed each other and tasted the salt, the raw emotions: pain, love, joy, loss. This was what it felt like…to be.

A/N: I'm serious. Please review this. I will love you forever. I mean it.