Note: This smutty story features Ron and Hermione spending some much needed *alone time* a few months after the Battle of Hogwarts. In this fic, Fred is still alive, because I didn't want to add to the long list of existing fanfics in which a depressed Ron has sex with Hermione for the sole purpose of seeking comfort as he grieves over Fred's death.

The backstory: Hermione never kissed Ron during the Battle of Hogwarts. Thus, the two have not yet confessed their feelings for one another. Prepare for a gigantic lemon.

*Ron's point of view*

She's sitting at the kitchen table of the Burrow, chatting enthusiastically to mum about the N.E.W.T. courses she'll be taking. Her eyes are sparkling with excitement and the sunlight streaming in through the window is hitting her at just the right angle. Her long, brown hair looks as though it's emitting a faint glow and sweet Merlin, she looks like an angel.

Operating of their own accord, my eyes wander down to the shadow of cleavage peeking from the neckline of her shirt. What I wouldn't give to see more of her tits. I've spent years dreaming about those tits – about licking them, sucking them, trailing my tongue over her breasts, up her neck, to her soft, pink lips. Her lips –

I receive a sharp kick from under the table. I snap out of my reverie.

"Ron, stop ogling her like a hippogriff in heat," mutters Fred, with a smirk.

My ears burn as I hastily shift my eyes toward my plate and concentrate on cutting my bacon.

I didn't realize Fred had noticed me watching her. It's very difficult to pay attention to anyone else when Hermione Granger is in the room.

As Hermione peruses the list of schoolbooks she plans to purchase today, it hits me.

She's leaving for Hogwarts in less than two weeks and I still haven't plucked up the courage to tell her I'm in love with her.

She'll be surrounded by wizards who'll have read all about how she helped defeat You-Know-Who. Everyone wanker will want to be mates with the brilliant Hermione Granger, and – my stomach churns at the thought – I'm sure they'll be more than a few people who'll want to be more than just mates…

I've got to tell her how I feel.

A few days later…

*Hermione's point of view*

"You didn't have to stay back, you know," I tell him (though I'm secretly over-the-moon at the prospect of spending a few hours alone with Ron).

"Oh, it's no problem," Ron replies. "I don't fancy Fleur's cooking anyway." He's grinning his gorgeous, lopsided grin. My heart skips a beat.

"Anyway," Ron adds, "You're going to need all the help you can get packing all of this stuff." He gestures to the spellbooks, school supplies, and clothes strewn on the floor. As his arm moves, his black shirt tightens over his biceps. Merlin, he's sexy.

"Honestly Hermione, d'you really need to bring along all of these books? I mean—" he picks up my copy of A Beginner's Guide to Dragon-Taming – "I don't think you'll be seeing too many dragons frolicking around Hogwarts. Not with Voldemort gone, anyway."

"Knowledge is power, Ron," I say. "Just because I won't encounter everything I read about, doesn't mean I shouldn't learn."

Ron shakes his head, put his arms behind his head and leans against Ginny's headboard. I continue sorting through books on the floor.

Harry and the Weasleys (save for Ron) are over at Shell Cottage for dinner. I decided to stay home to organize my things, as I'm leaving for Hogwarts in two days. Amidst the post-war bustle, I've hardly had time to pack.

What's worse, I've spent little to no time alone with Ron. He still has no idea how I really feel about him, and Hogwarts is just around the corner.

I helped defeat the darkest wizard to walk upon this planet, but I can't muster up the courage to tell my best friend I'm in love with him.

Pathetic, really…

I hear rustling, and look up to see Ron extracting a piece of parchment from my copy of The Healing Traits of Unicorns and other Magical Creatures.

As he takes a closer look at the parchment, his expression grows grim.

"What's that, Ron?"

He doesn't respond. His face remains stony.

I hoist myself from the floor and go sit beside him on Ginny's bed, craning my neck to try to catch a glimpse of the parchment Ron is reading. My heart stops.

It's a letter from Viktor Krum.

"Give me that," I say, trying to snatch the parchment from Ron's grasp, but his reflexes are quicker than mine; He jerks the letter out of my reach.

"I'm so proud of how hard you vorked to help save the vizarding vorld, Herm-o-ninny," he sneers, reading aloud in a mock Bulgarian accent. "Come veeseet me in Bulgaria, Herm-o-ninny."

"I never wrote him back!" I say, still trying to reach for the letter. "I'm not interested in seeing him again. What's it to you, anyway?"

"What's it to me?" says Ron, loudly. "The bloody wanker probably read all about you in The Daily Prophet and now suddenly he wants to whisk you away to Bulgaria and use you for – for –" He's shaking, and breathing hard.

"For what, exactly?" I ask, having intense flashbacks to the Yule Ball. I hesitate, before adding, "Actually, don't answer that."

"I know what you're thinking, Ron. You think Viktor's only interested in me again because I've gained a bit of fame after You-Know-Who was killed. That's the only reason a man might want me, isn't it?" My voice cracks and my eyes well up with tears as I lose my composure. "Who could ever have wanted me when I was just ordinary, b-b-boring Hermione Granger?"

Ron is looking at me rather oddly. He seems to be thinking. Slowly, he lowers the arm holding Viktor's letter and deposits it on the bed.

"I wanted you," he says quietly.

There's silence.

"Wh-what?" I say, entirely sure I misheard.

Ron's face is inches from my own. His blue eyes are boring into mine. He brushes a tear off my cheek, takes a deep breath, and speaks again, his voice louder and more confident.

"I wanted you, Hermione. Merlin, I still want you. I've wanted you for years and bloody Krum always manages to ruin things just when I'm about to pluck up the courage to finally tell you that – that…"

He takes my hand, and hesitates.

"Tell me what?" I implore.

"—that I'm in love with you."

*Ron's point of view*

I've done it. I've told her I love her. She's sitting so close to me, looking utterly gorgeous – even with red, slightly puffy eyes, and I've said it. I've said it, and there's no going back now. If she only wants to be friends, then I've spoiled everything. But maybe she –

"I love you too, Ron," she says breathlessly. "I've loved you for so long and I didn't know how to tell you and…"

Her words are music to my ears and her lips look so soft and edible. I can't hold back any longer so I take hold of her face and press her gorgeous lips against my own.

*Hermione's point of view*

One moment I'm confessing my feelings for Ron, the next I can feel his lips pressed against mine, urging my mouth open. I throw my arms around his neck and comply readily, relishing the feel of his tongue in my mouth.

Every fantasy I've ever harboured pales in comparison to the blissful reality of kissing Ron Weasley. His mouth feels rough and wonderful against mine, and his movements are making me dizzy and hot.

His hands are in my hair, and then they're gripping and caressing my waist. Suddenly, he pushes me backward, and the back of my head hits the bed with a soft *thud*. He's lying on top of me, and I can feel his hardness pressing against my leg.

"Ron," I purr.

I open my eyes and see him staring down at me with dark, lustful eyes.

*Ron's point of view*

Fuck, she tastes delicious. This feels amazing. I can't get enough.

I know I should stop. I need to stop. This is our first kiss. It's supposed to be gentle and sweet and romantic. The thing is, there's nothing sweet or romantic about the thoughts swarming my mind right now. She can probably feel my hard-on pressed against her and I think I've frightened with my aggression and –

Did she just purr my name? Merlin, that was the sexiest sound I've ever heard. She's enjoying this. I look down into her big, brown eyes. She gives me a coy smile, and I realize I'm on the right track.

I pull at her hands until her arms rest above her head. She shows no resistance. I feel a surge of masculine satisfaction at her compliance and I kiss her with increased fervour.

Our tongues battle for dominance.

*Hermione's point of view*

The man I've loved for years is holding me down and kissing me passionately and I can't get enough. To hell with propriety.

His hands move downward. I moan, and he grows bolder. He fondles my breast with one hand and squeezes my bum with the other. I wrap my legs around him and caress the muscles on his back. He presses his hardness against me and I push myself up to meet his movements. He growls.

His lips are at my neck now, where he's sucking vigorously. I know this will leave a mark, and I don't care.

His hands have slithered up my shirt, which he's pulling at urgently. I push them away and attempt to sit up. He looks worried.

"Hermione," he says, his voice husky. "I'm sorry if I went too far. I—"

"Shhh," I murmur, pressing a finger to his lips. I take a deep breath, pull my shirt off, and discard it onto the floor.

Ron is staring at me with his mouth slightly open. I feel a blush creeping up my body.

*Ron's point of view*

"Bloody hell."

Her tits are popping out of a turquoise bra that looks incredible against her creamy skin. Her long brown hair looks so soft – so touchable.

She's looking at me nervously, and blushing fiercely.

"You're beautiful, Hermione," I tell her, because she is.

I want to make her feel less exposed, so I pull off my own shirt as well. I'm freckly and I certainly don't have the body of a Quidditch star or someone of the likes, so I can't help but feel a bit self-conscious as she looks me up and down. Yet, oddly enough, she seems to like what she sees. Her gaze appears lustful – not critical. I want her in my arms again, but I realize we should probably clarify how far she wants to go tonight. The last thing I want to do is frighten away the girl of my dreams after our first kiss.

"Hermione," I begin, in a voice that sounds much more hoarse than the one I'm used to. "I … I want to… but are you sure you…? I mean, do you want to – er—?"

"I want it too Ron," she says, gazing at me with her massive, chocolate-coloured eyes. She's growing redder by the minute. She opens her mouth and hesitates for a moment. "I mean… er… sex, I mean." She's turned an adorable shade of scarlet. "That is what you meant, isn't it?" she adds quickly.

Merlin's saggiest Y-fronts. Hermione Granger just said she wants to have sex with me. Me.

I nod vigorously.

"Yeah... that's what I meant."

The room is growing hotter by the instant. My heart pounds.

"Right then," she says. "Where's my wand?"

Her wand? Why does she need her—

Oh…

It dawns on me. Contraception.

I hastily pull out my wand and summon hers. I hand it to Hermione.

"Thank you," she says, accepting it with a small smile.

"You're beautiful," I say, abruptly. I internally kick myself. A simple, 'You're welcome,' would have sufficed.

She looks at me and giggles. The sound induces a jolt down below. My eyes wander down to her tits. They look delicious. I want to rip off her bra so I can see them properly. I want her so badly. It's taking every ounce my self-control not to jump on her.

Hermione points her wand at her lower stomach. She mutters an incantation. The tip of her wand emits a soft, red glow for a moment, and then the light fades.

"Did it work?" I ask.

"I think so," she says, setting aside her wand. "I mean, I've never done the spell before but I know the theory. The light was the correct shade so that should mean…"

We lock eyes.

"…it worked."

*Hermione's point of view*

His blue eyes are darker than I've ever seen them. The look on his face is – there's no other way to describe it – hungry. I feel out of breath. My face is burning and there's a tingling in my lower abdomen. I open my mouth – unsure of what to say.

Simultaneously, we both lunge at one another and we're locked in a passionate embrace. I'm clawing at his back and grinding against his hardness. He's tugging and biting at my bra – attempting to take it off. I take his hands and guide them to the hooks. He fumbles with the clasp and it opens. He grunts his approval, pulls off my bra and thrusts it to the floor. He stares at my breasts, transfixed.

"Fucking gorgeous," he growls.

My breasts aren't enormous, but I know they aren't small, either. Ron seems to like what he sees, because he quickly reaches for them and begins squeezing and stroking. His hands feel rough and satisfying. I gasp as he pushes me backward until I'm pinned beneath him again. He licks and sucks my left breast mercilessly, and I moan at the pleasurable sensations. I feel myself arching in response to his mouth. One of his hands is squeezing my breast, and the other has made its way down to my crotch. He presses against me right there, and in spite of the layers of material in between, I feel a jolt at my sex. His hand begins rubbing and groping at my crotch. Meanwhile, his mouth is assaulting my neck. I moan. This feels wonderful, but I want more. I want him to feel me. I need him to feel me – without a barrier in between.

His hand leaves my crotch. I groan at the loss of contact, but I quickly realize what he's doing. The button of my jeans snaps open. Ron pulls down the zipper and tugs them down. Together, we pull off my jeans. Ron throws them aside. I'm naked now, save for the scrap of turquoise material covering my sex. Ron rakes his eyes down my body, a feral expression upon his face. He growls.

*Ron's point of view*

So. Fucking. Gorgeous.

Her skin looks soft and creamy. Her hair is fanned out beneath her – it looks wild and wonderful. Her tits are pink and glistening in the dim light. Her lips are swollen from my kisses and her eyes – Merlin, her chocolatey brown eyes. I could melt into them.

"I love you, Hermione," I tell her.

She's gazing up at me with trust and lust and adoration and she looks a million times better than the stuff of my fantasies.

I press my lips to hers and feel her moan against my mouth. She kisses my back with enthusiasm. Her skin feels so smooth and velvety. Her hands feel so good in my hair and at my back. I grope her thigh and then rub her knickers aggressively. They're wet. I groan and yank them down. I can't stop myself now and I don't need too – her moans and responses tell me she wants this, too. All rational thought has left my brain and the only thing on my mind is how badly I want to fuck her senseless.

"Ron," she moans as my hand makes contact with her sex. I know what she wants, and Merlin knows I want to give it to her. I've never done it before, but I want to make her feel good. I rub slowly, and she purrs. I rub faster, and focus on a nub that must be her clit. She gasps and arches against my hand. She spreads her legs wider and I slowly push a finger into her. She feels hot and tight. I push another finger in. I concentrate on responding to her sounds and movements – I want to make her cum.

*Hermione's point of view*

Ron Weasley is fucking me with his fingers and it feels incredible. His fingers are so rough and long – they're plunging into me at a merciless pace. The pleasure is unreal. Meanwhile, his tongue is swirling around in my mouth. His mouth has just left mine and now his tongue is tracing a trail to my ear.

"Does this feel good, love?" he says,

"Mmmm," I moan. I can't form coherent sentences as he assaults my sex.

"I want to hear you cum," he growls, pushing his fingers even further in. I moan. I don't know where his aggression is coming from, but I'm loving it.

His mouth traces a trail downward. He swirls his tongue around my stomach, and pushes one of my legs to the side with his free hand (the other is still inside me). Suddenly, I feel Ron's mouth on my most private area. He laps and sucks at me wildly. His fingers are so far inside of me. I see stars. Intense pleasure takes control of my body.

"R-ron!" I scream, convulsing. "Oh, Ron! I'm cumming! Oh yes, ooh."

Ron groans into my pussy and doesn't stop his assault until I've come down from my high. Finally, he removes mouth and fingers and sits up to look at me. He licks his lips and grins, smugly – sexily.

"I take it you liked that," he says.

"Mmmm," I respond, gazing up at him. I'm incapable of forming words.

He bends down and kisses me. I grab hold of his hair and open my mouth, taking in his tongue. He responds in kind. With all the energy I can muster, I push myself upwards and flip him over so I'm on top. It's my turn to be in control.

He stares at me, equal parts astonished and lustful. I grind against his erection – which is covered with far too much material. He growls, takes hold of my hips, and pushes me down against him.

I fumble with his belt until I've clicked it loose. I unbutton and unzip his pants and pull them down and off. His erection is tenting his maroon boxers. I pull them down his legs too, and throw them into our pile of discarded clothing.

His penis is large – larger than I expected. I feel a jolt down below as I imagine it… inside of me. But first – I want to reward him for the pleasure he gave me a few moments ago. I want to make him feel good.

"Hermione," he says. "You don't have to –"

"I want to," I say firmly, because I do.

I take his erection in my hands and he groans. He feels warm and stiff. I begin stroking it, moving my hands up and down. My mouth joins in. I lick, suck, and stroke him in time to his responses. I feel his hands at my hair.

He urges me on. To my surprise, I'm rather enjoying hearing expletives pour from his mouth – particularly when they're paired with terms of endearment.

"Merlin, Hermione, that feels amazing." Growl. "Yeah, love, just like that. Mmm, fuck. Fuck, that feels good." Groan. "Don't stop. That's it, sweetheart. Love you. Fuck. You're so brilliant. Yeah, babe. Mmm… that's it."

Salty liquid suddenly shoots into my mouth. Unsure of what to do, I drink it in and swallow. I remove my mouth from his penis and sit up.

Ron looks at me drunkenly, his mouth slightly open.

"Did you just— ? Fuck."

I blush.

"You're brilliant, Hermione," says Ron. "I love you so much." He pulls me down into a searing kiss.

We're kissing deeply, passionately – completely in the nude. I feel an ache down below – I need to be filled. I can feel his erection growing again. He flips me onto my back and grinds his hardness against me. I spread my legs apart and press down on his back – urging him on. He has to know how badly I want it.

A part of me is nervous, but my desire is taking over. I need him inside of me. Now.

*Ron's point of view.*

She wants it. I want it. Every fibre of my body is aching to fuck her roughly, but I know this is our first time and I need to be gentle. I can't hurt her.

I slide my dick over her opening. She's wet and ready. Slowly, I push my way in. She feels hot and tight. I groan at the pleasurable sensation of being buried in her wetness. I feel some kind of barrier within her break.

She whimpers. Have I hurt her?

"Hermione," I say. "Are you ok?"

"Y-yes," she responds. "Keep going, Ron. Just… go slow."

I nod and push further in. She feels incredible. I want to move. I pull out, slowly, and push in again. I repeat this and pleasure envelops my body. I trap her lips in a passionate kiss. A wave of possession comes over me. I'm having sex with Hermione Granger - my Hermione Granger - and it feels incredible.

*Hermione's point of view*

At first, all I can feel is throbbing pain. He's so big, and he's stretching me more than I've ever been stretched. He's going slow, for my sake. I breathe hard as he moves in and out. The pain subsides gradually. I feel a pleasurable ache growing. He kisses me passionately, and the pleasure down below increases. I moan.

"Faster, Ron."

He complies, increasing his pace. This is beginning to feel good — so good. Oh, Merlin. The friction is creating waves of pleasure that are growing more and more powerful. Ron suddenly grabs my arms and pulls them up over my head. With my arms pinned to the bed, I feel completely at his mercy. I love it.

Our tongues are dueling fiercely and his penis is plunging in and out of me faster and faster. I moan into his mouth, and the growls into mine. His talented mouth divides its attention between my lips and my neck. Between kissing and licking, he utters a string of curse-words and praise.

"Hermione," he growls, pounding into me. "You feel amazing. Fuck. Is that how you like it, love? You like it hard? You like it when I fuck you like this?"

"Yes, Ron," I moan. "Don't stop. Oh – just like that. Mmm – right there."

He's plunging into me at just the right angle and hitting it. My body convulses as I'm hit with wave after wave of climatic pleasure. I moan loudly.

"That's right, darling," Ron growls, pounding at a merciless pace. "Cum for me – cum for your man."

I feel a jet of warmth down below. Ron growls and moans as he spills his seed into me. With one final thrust, he collapses on top of me.

I hold him close as the pleasure subsides. He's heavy, and I'm having trouble breathing. I squirm beneath him. Ron gets the message and shifts his body until we're lying beside each other, spent. I muster a small smile.

"That," says Ron, "was fucking incredible. I always imagined you'd be a minx in the sheets, Hermione."

I smile and blush. "How long have you been imagining me in the sheets for?" I ask.

"Oh, since fourth year, maybe sooner" he says, grinning. "My Hermione-centric wanking fantasies definitely got more elaborate as the years progressed. Shit – I shouldn't be telling you this."

I giggle. "That makes me feel less guilty about the kinds of thoughts I've been having about you for so long," I reply. "Oh, Ron, why didn't we do this earlier?"

"Beats me," says Ron. "Would've made for a nice distraction from the stress of fighting You-Know-Who." He grins.

I smack him lightly. "No, I meant – why didn't we confess our love earlier?"

Ron sighs and pulls me closer. "I should have plucked up the courage to tell you ages ago, Hermione. Before the battle, before Lavender. At any rate, I'm glad it's finally out. Now I can stop ogling you in secret and do it with your permission." We laugh.

I hesitate, and then look at him, feeling slightly unsure. "We're together now, aren't we, Ron? That's what this means…?"

Ron looks at me, his expression torn between amusement and disbelief. "Hermione," he says. "I told you I love you. You told me you love me. We had sex. Yes – I'm pretty sure that means we're together."

I smile, relieved. "Good," I say. "Just making sure. I love you." We kiss.

"I love you too," he says. He hoists himself up and looks around the room. "Now, as much as I'd like to spend the whole night making love to your beautiful body, I expect mum and the others will be home soon, so we should probably get our clothes back on."

I giggle and nod. I suppose I'll have to finish packing tomorrow.