Hermione hugged her knees as she let her body descend into a dark corner of the basement. She missed him more than she could ever express. Even for her, words did not flow easily enough. Not anymore, anyway. Reading the definitions of thousands of words couldn't have prepared her for this moment. With nothing left, she let her thoughts wonder back to a time and place that she felt she belonged. A time were she felt needed and loved.

Hermione gripped onto Ron's sweaty palm as they walked into the room alone. This was it. Time. As intelligent as she was, she couldn't fathom this feeling. Her hands tingled and her legs felt weak. She was about to give herself to the one person she had always loved: Ronald Weasley.

Tugging her further into the room, the glances that they exchanged with one another could easily be interpreted as the act of love itself. The word itself could be used to sum up the feeling of intensity that Hermione was about the experience. Not only would it end with love being shared between two people that needed it, but it would bind those two people into a seemingly everlasting sea of passion and endless pure and true love.

'Are you sure?' Ron asked, taking Hermione by the fingers, ever so delicately, and stroking them. He smiled at her reassuringly. 'If you don't want this, we don't have to. We can sit and read a book if you'd like-'

Hermione interrupted, 'I want this, Ronald. I want this more than I've ever wanted anything in my life. I crave you more than I crave knowledge: you are the key to functioning. Knowledge can get me places but only can you make me feel alive. I haven't felt this before, Ron, and I want you to know I'm sharing this with you because I know that forever will be an understatement.' She took a deep breath. 'So if you're up for it, Ronald Weasley, let me show you that our love can conquer anything.' She smiled, 'If we really want it to.'

Ron exhaled with relief. 'Let's do this, babe.'

'Baby, to you,' Hermione laughed, clutching onto his hand and making her way to the bed that wasn't quite single, but wasn't quite double. It had four posts with a deep burgundy canopy, while the room itself was painted white. The bed sat in the middle of the room while it had one large Victorian window, with dark wooden frames and double glazing that had started to frost over, to the left of it. It has a rose printed at the top-right that turned the natural light all shades of red, perfect for sharing this moment. The carpet was stringy and red, yet had a plush rug that lay on the right side of the bed. It was odd being in a Hotel room for Muggles, though there was no place to be alone in Hogwarts. Everyone knew everyone.

Hermione stood next to the four-post bed, with Ron not far behind.

'After you,' Hermione turned to Ron. She lay her hand upon his clothed chest as they gazed up at one another. A smile spread across her lips.

Ron looked at the stringy carpet, attempting to swallow the nerves building up in his chest and appearing in the form of a rapid heartbeat. Hermione could feel this. 'Don't be nervous, Ronald.' She tucked a piece of his long, ginger hair behind his ear. 'Like you said, we don't have to do this.'

'I want to,' Ron replied, 'I truly do.' He wasn't sure what he was afraid of but he knew it was something. 'It nerves, I'm nervous. It's… I'm-'

'Ron,' Hermione placed her finger on his lips. Then, she reached towards his damp hair and ran her hand through it, her other hand preoccupied with tracing up and down his shirt, waiting for the right moment to undo it. She looked up at him and gave him the look that she knew he couldn't resist. Someone must've thrown an invisible blanket filled with nothing but lust and passion over them as, in that moment, they were running their hands over each other's body and not giving one thought as to where they were going with this.

It was as though, in that second, something clicked. They could sense the tension building and finally decided to let go.

Hermione pulled him close to her and kissed him ever so slightly, barely even touching his lips. She knew this would drive him crazy and leave him wanting even more than when he set out. And it did just that.

Ron put his hands behind her head and pulled her in. Their lips touched for seconds until they parted, letting their tongues explore the depths of a foreign realm. Before they knew it, their faces were soaked with saliva and radiated passion. They pulled apart. Pushing her onto the bed, Ron placed his legs either side of her.

They breathed heavily into each other's mouths, breathing the same air. In such close proximity, it would be hard not to feel the bulge growing in Ron's trousers.

He pressed himself against Hermione, gripping her shoulders. She let out a muffled moan. He sensed he had done something right and pressed harder against her clothed body. Her hands were exploring places that she hadn't felt before and, though clothed, she felt like she was the luckiest girl in the world. This feeling was one she didn't want to let go of.

Ron tugged at the zip to her cardigan and pulled it from her shoulders, revealing a tiny tank top with lace edging. This wasn't enough for Ron: the lace only made him want her more. He breathed heavily into her ear, 'Hermione, baby, can we… I mean can I…'

'You can,' she gasped, lifting up her arms to allow him to pull it from her body. He did just that and his eyes were met with a tiny black bra. It had small bows all over it and, like her tank top, was edged with lace. Wanting the full experience, Ron looked into her eyes, as if asking for permission for the rest. She nodded and led his hand down to her jeans. Whatever she thought about herself right now didn't matter. As long as she had Ron's approval, she could go to sleep happy tonight.

Ron's hands shook as he undid her jeans and unzipped her fly. He peeled it away from her skin and proceeded to take them off. Hermione lifted up her legs and Ron slipped the jeans from her ankles as they both smiled. Ron looked at the human that was lying before him in just her underwear. He felt like the luckiest person alive. Little did he know, Hermione had been feeling the exact same way just minutes beforehand.

As if this was her last day on Earth, Hermione undid her bra and pulled down her panties extremely fast and said, 'Now, you, Ronald.' She winked at him, 'Come on! Else I'll have to do it for you!'

Without further ado, Hermione tucked her brunette ringlets behind her ears, knelt upwards and unbuttoned Ron's blue-and-white striped shirt. She wasn't shaking as much as Ron, surprisingly. It was probably because she had read so many books with scenes just like this that she had imagined it many a time. She smiled and undid his jeans, just like he had her.

Pulling them off, she gazed at Ron. A boy so beautiful couldn't possibly be wanting me. She blushed, taking in every mole and freckle he has on his chest, and placed her hand over his penis.

Ron inhaled sharply and a large smile began to arise. He felt more comfortable now, with her. With this.

He knelt opposite Hermione and beckoned her forwards. Obeying, she crawled towards him, her knees sinking into the mattress with every step.

'Come here,' he smiled, holding out his arms. She came forward and he wrapped them around her shoulders. Ron thought that she felt so delicate while naked, like she could break at any moment. He leant towards her and placed his lips next to her ear, whispering: 'Lay down, baby.'

She kissed him and did just that. Ron, again, placed his knees either side of hers and leant forward, his hands curled into fists and placed onto the pillow, either side of her head. Her breathing become heavier and heavier with each centimetre he moved closer. He hovered above her for a moment, kissing her lips once more.

Hermione had been waiting for this moment for as long as she could remember.

With hands as eager as a child at a candy store, Ron moved his head towards her breasts, extending his tongue and gently licking at her nipples. Finally, it was happening. It was perfect. It was with the only boy she had ever truly loved and, as Ron thrust himself into her, she felt no regret.

'A…ahh,' Hermione moaned loudly. She squeezed her eyes shut and let the intensity of the moment take over. Her toes curled and hips moved in time with Ron's.

'More, Ronald,' Hermione breathed, 'give me more!'

'I love you,' moaned Ron as he pushed himself deeper and deeper into his teenage sweetheart, 'I love you.' Hermione replied with only a high pitched moan, as if begging for Ron to continue.

Ron's hands explored Hermione's body with urgency. He could feel himself reading orgasm and, as they came in sync, Ron collapsed next to Hermione, exhausted. They both felt as though that moment had been perfect yet Ron knew that this would never happen again. Something was telling him that. And he was right.

Hermione took a deep breath and let out a sad sigh. She stroked a photograph of something, or someone, and let a tear fall from her eye. That photograph was Ron. And that moment never did happen again. She turned the photograph over.

On the back read: 'You're at peace now. Dear Ron. I love you.'