A/N: Happy Christmas to azaleablueme from your Secret Santa. You'd mentioned you wanted something Hogwarts related and Christmas, with no limitations on citrus flavoring. I hope this is satisfying and a delight.

The train hit a lurching stop and the whistle blew, harsh and loud. Ginny was out of the cabin without a word back while Luna followed her out. Hermione didn't want to deal with that problem until later. Her first necessity was seeing Ron. Everything else would wait, including seeing her parents.

She wasn't looking forward to that, either. The latest set of letters from Dad pointed that out.

She slid the strap of the satchel across her shoulders and went to check the train. As Head Girl, she was responsible for verifying the train was clear while the Head Boy, a nice lad from Hufflepuff named Sidney Fysh, would make sure that all of the students who departed were picked up. Many night she was out on rounds, or when she couldn't sleep, and she'd come across him walking too. He wasn't terribly bright – but he listened to her prattle on about Ron without any resentment or jealousy.

Eleven year old Hermione might have found him charming. He was sweet and accommodating, letting her take charge as she usually did – which made him as boring as stale porridge. Nineteen year old Hermione knew much, much better. He was a nice young man – and not Ron.

Hermione finished her sweep of the train, finding a few parcels left behind which would be returned to the school after the Christmas holidays. She was dragging her feet, knowing that Ron was working with George and he'd be home whenever he finished tidying the shop. Once again, knowledge didn't comfort her this time much less again this term. Only a very tall, quite ginger idiot named Ron who she loved entirely too much was her comfort. But then, he had demonstrated this year that calling Ron an idiot was factually incorrect, in so many ways. He wasn't an idiot at all – far from it. If anyone had been an idiot, it was her for imposing her own standards on him and expecting too much, too soon.

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Hermione stepped off the train and saw that Ginny was gone and so was Luna. But then she didn't really expect anyone to wait on her at the platform, not after she made a muck of things on the train earlier. Only her girlfriends, those who put up with her while she pined away for Ron and bit the heads off of kids who weren't as broken as she was, stayed and kept her company throughout the day. Most stayed far away, like a Welsh Green with an abscessed tooth and no medicine to make it better.

Her parcels were placed on the platform, much to her relief. Crookshanks was there, in his magically spacious carrier, along with her trunk. She silently thanked Sidney and Luna, and maybe Ginny, for the help. But while others were departing with parents, other loved ones, or their lovers, she was left bereft. Ron was working and so was Harry at the Ministry, and her parents weren't coming either. She didn't expect to see them until Christmas day, if not Boxing Day. They were off on Holiday, to Crete, and weren't returning until Christmas night.

She took a deep breath, like the Healer taught her when she was feeling less than stellar. In and Out, she repeated the breathing to ground her and remind her that the feelings of loneliness were temporary and no one had abandoned her.

She looked around and saw Sidney waving before stepping through the brick portal. He promised to stay on the platform until she debarked and he did. 'He's such a nice young man, even if he's not Ron,' she thought. Instead of being comforted, she sighed. The Aurors were gone. The platform was empty and Crookshanks was her only company.

"First on, last off Crookshanks. I'll take you home to Grimmauld Place where you can chase mice and conjured dust mice until you are worn out." Hermione pointed her wand at her trunk and shrunk it down before magically moving it into her beaded bag. That would suffice until she was home, fortunately.

She turned and stopped, watching Ron step through the portal onto the platform. She stood gobsmacked, looking at him wearing a dodgy outfit that would fit in… well, working for George. 'It couldn't be him, not here, not now,' she thought. The trousers were her favorite shade of kelly green, with what looked like red and white Christmas wreaths on them, and a jumper that was covered in magical fairy lights and something blinking on the back. The hat, what looked like a wizard's hat but in the same green with red and white stripes up the top to a bright gold blinking star, made the outfit somehow work. He looked like a walking advertisement for the shop and she couldn't keep from smiling.

'Ron can't be here; he's at work.'

Fear and paranoia made her raise her wand and point it at his face.

"Whoa! Drop the wand!" he begged. He backed up two steps and froze, watching the wand pointed at his face.

"Prove who you are!" She backed up three steps into the brick support behind her.

"You have three copies of Hogwarts, A History on your bedroom shelf at home."

"Not nearly good enough," she thought of a spell she could use without possibly hurting the face she loved entirely. "Anyone who listens to me knows that!" She'd stun him, tie him up, and send for Harry since he was a junior grade Auror now. He promised that Polyjuice potion ingredients were tightly regulated now but she couldn't be absolutely sure.

Ron took a step and she started the motion for the spell and he stopped. "You told me you loved me while we were at Shell Cottage in the spring." Her wand wobbled and he took two more, ignoring the wand pointed at his nose. "You have a scar across your chest that is pale gray on your dark skin. You love how it feels, me kissing on it, before I suck on your tits."

"Ron!" Hermione threw her arms around his neck and he spun her around, nestling his nose into her hair and feeling the subtle curves of her body in his arms.

"Sorry I'm late but George was being a git and made me stay to clean up a mess by some kids before I could come get you."

She pulled away from his jumper, since it smelled of fireworks and something vile, to look at his face. "You came," she tried to wipe her eyes but he caught her hand and did it for her. "I wasn't expecting to see you for a few more hours. Your last letter said you had to close the shop tonight." A few more tears fell.

"Shhh, I'm here." He pulled her back into his embrace and felt her shudder a few times. "I'm not going anywhere, at least for a couple of days. George owed me for covering for him so much the last fortnight so I'm off early today."

"You're not in trouble at work, are you? Why aren't you going to the Ministry for your shifts?"

"Far from it, love." He released her from his arms and bent to pick up Crookshanks carrier. "Training finished on the 15th but they didn't release us 'til the next day, after debriefing. I don't go back until after the first of the year, shadowing that git – "

Hermione grabbed his ears and pulled him down for a kiss that promised so much more very shortly – if he could get their things and get back home.

"Whoa! What's gotten into you, love? Miss me or something?" He cheeked. "Are we having Christmas early?"

"Hopefully you, sooner than later," she cheeked back. "I have been waiting to open my present since I left for Hogwarts." She looked at him for a moment before looking away, just over his shoulder. She pulled a very small box, badly wrapped, from her cloak pocket. Ron smiled, seeing that she'd received her gift. He had to promise in his letter that it wasn't an engagement ring. No, that would come later, but not that much later.

"Well, fuck, let's get home then." He looked and saw Crookshanks carrier but no trunk. "Where's your trunk, love?" She rattled her beaded bag and he smiled. "Damn. I was hoping to show off my new and improved spell work. Maybe I will be able to demonstrate later in our bedroom."

"You were always good at spells, Ron. You only had to learn to believe in yourself."

He glanced at his girlfriend and smiled. "Thanks. But they bludgeon spell work into us daily, during training. If we didn't master non-verbal spells by the first day, we were gone from training. That heartless fiend Jones was brutal on us."

"Yeah, she's a bit tough on us too."

They departed the platform and walked through the train station. Ron stowed his wand up his sleeve, keeping it pointed to the ground right in front of his feet. Hermione saw him keeping watch around the station while she focused in front of them. "They have been working with you."

"Daily. Besides the Moody refrain of Constant Vigilance, they taught us about situational awareness and other necessary skills." Ron saw her nodding while watching the crowds in front of them. "You know, dear, if the crowds are too much, we can apparate home instead of walking – but you'll have to see to Crookshanks. I don't want this beast barmy at me for inflicting magic on him."

"Aren't you hungry? Shouldn't we stop for dinner first?" Hermione stopped at the portal to the outside station. "It's almost seven. You should be starving by now."

"I'm not, for once. I ordered something earlier from Tom to tide me over until after we get home and I make you pass out. I'll be fine until then."

"And what if I want supper then seconds?"

Hermione started walking away from him, leaving him standing outside the doors while surreptitiously adjusting his trousers. "Hey, wait up!"

They stepped inside Grimmauld Place, and locked up behind them. On the walk over, Ron told her that Harry was working tonight and Ginny was staying at home, as Mum and Dad's request. He wasn't complaining, since that meant they had the entire house to themselves, save –

"Master Ron is home with Mistress Hermione," a voice croaked from the parlour.

Ron lowered Crookshanks in the carrier and opened the door. The orange furball took off, chasing a conjured dust mouse, courtesy of Ron, down the dark hallway to the kitchen.

"Kreacher, so nice to see you." Hermione went to the elderly elf and knelt down to as close to his height as possible. "I missed you dearly," she kissed him on his bare head.

"Mistress is too kind," He replied. "Kreacher has made dinner for Master and Mistress, if they are hungry. Master Harry said that you were hungry for Kreacher's meals after being at Hogwarts."

Hermione looked up at Ron and saw him grinning. "We will be down for dinner in about an hour, Kreacher. I want to freshen up some after a long day's travels from Hogwarts." She saw a twinkle in his eyes. "Have Harry and Ron been treating you fairly, paying you proper wages and time off as requested? And is this your new livery? It looks like something Parvati would make for you."

Kreacher adjusted his red scarf around his neck along with the hat upon his head, a green Santa had made for him by Hermione as part of her therapy. His green outfit with red stitching and embroidery seemed to be influenced by Lavender and Parvati's hand. "Mistress Parvati sent a package for Kreacher with Master Harry. Mistress Parvati wanted to thank Kreacher for cooking and cleaning when she was busy tending Mistress Lavender. Kreacher is wearing clothes made by Mistress Lavender."

"It looks quite nice on you. Doesn't it Ron?" He nodded in approval. "I like this outfit on you."

"Kreacher is told this is called a kurta. Mistress Parvati said this is the new attire for House Elves at Hogwarts." Kreacher adjusted the starched collar. "Kreacher is told he is the best dressed Elf when he spends time working at Hogwarts. Mistress is too kind, asking after Kreacher's well-being and giving Kreacher gifts." The elderly elf turned to go back to the kitchen.

"I think he missed you most, Hermione. That's the most that he's spoken to anyone in months."

"But you said you missed me most!" She turned and saw he was taking the mickey from her.

"Well, yeah, I did. And I want to take you upstairs and show you how much I missed you."

Hermione reached for him and wrapped him in her short, thin arms and spun them, landing inside their bedroom. Within moments, the door was locked, silenced, sealed, along with all of the walls, floor, and ceiling. Ron even put silencing charms on the feet of the bed and a cushioning charm on the headboard, next to the walls.

"Ron?"

He turned and pointed his wand at his torso and banished his clothes. She saw him smile and she did the same, banishing her own clothes, leaving them both in their skin in the slightly chilled room. He reached behind him, placing his wand on the dresser behind him while drinking in her features that he'd not seen in months. She had put on a little weight, after being painfully thin almost the entire summer but not enough to look really healthy. But the wisdom he learned from training was to not say a thing about that.

He watched her looking him up and down slowly, from his toes to the hair on his head, subtly smiling at his chest and torso to quickly moving to his legs. She wet her lips before biting them, looking him over again.

He nodded and she moved first, breaking the silence with her bare feet slapping the floorboards to reach him, pushing him into the wall by the door. He welcomed her aggression, taking in all of her forceful kisses and giving back in kind while his hands roamed her body, along her back to her hips and squeezed her arse.

"Missed you so much," she groaned when he nipped along the skin of her neck and nibbled at the crevice between her neck and shoulder. "My bed was so cold without you."

"I'm glad you're home," he breathed into her skin before pulling his face from leaving a small mark on her skin. He froze whatever words of affection she was going to give with the intensity of his gaze. "Fuckin' missed you, so much. I didn't realize how much I needed you 'til you were away."

Her small hands traveled down his stomach through the hair below his navel to his now erect length, stroking it in her hands. His gaze never wavered while she pleasured him but his moaning was making it harder to concentrate.

"Keep that up and we'll be having dinner instead of shagging."

"Maybe I want you taken care of first, as firsts?" She smiled and he barely held on by the skin of his nails while she continued to stroke him up and down his length. "I've missed doing this for you, Ron, and want you to last a while."

"Damn, you're so good to me." She smiled wider and he saw her face turn predatory. He shifted his feet, knowing the spring in his bollocks was going to break any second. Instead, she knelt down and afforded him pleasure with her mouth, and he moaned loud enough to be heard at his parent's house in Devon.

"Damn swotty of you, Hermione," he groaned once he could do anything besides breathing and knowing which way gravity worked.

He opened his eyes and saw her standing shyly before him. "Now that you're comfortable," she started but he moved to kiss her and moaned in appreciation. She tasted faintly of tea and cinnamon and chocolate. He lifted her in his arms and carried her a few feet to the dresser and sat her down on the edge. She moved her knees wider so he could get closer which he did willingly.

Ron pulled her face up to his, staring intently. "I hope you ate on the train because I want to fuck you hard enough you can't walk tomorrow." He kept looking at her intently, waiting on her to look at him with the same love and affection he felt for her.

Hermione did and shuddered, begging, "Please!"

"Say it," Ron commanded in his Auror voice. She shuddered harder.

"Please," somehow what he asked was as hard as looking him in the eyes. She held back what he needed, knowing what would happen would be appreciated.

"Say it," he leaned in so close that she felt the warm breath on her lips and his body heat radiating on her other set. His fingers danced across her skin, touching everything except what she needed.

She could never hold out for long, not when he has such simple pleasures and requests from her.

Hermione finally looked at his face and his freckles across his nose and the bright gold lashes and the deep blue eyes that adored her. "Ron, please fuck me."

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He grinned before he knelt down and pushed her knees wide while pulling her bum onto the edge of the dresser. Hermione held onto the edge of the dresser, forgetting everything and anything in her mind except for the pleasure and sensations he was evoking from her. His attention and affection for her drove her higher, her words broken and moans guttural, until she broke apart under his ministrations. Even then, she focused on sucking in many deep lungfuls of breath, trying to keep from passing out.

"Hermione," Ron spoke softly against her lips, "open your eyes."

She did and saw his wide smile and his features up close. She took another deep breath before he kissed her again, bringing her as close as possible to him. He froze, barely breathing, while she adjusted after months of being away from him. The feelings and sensations were so overwhelming that she felt the tears falling immediately. He kissed them away, refusing to budge until she wrapped her ankles around his hips and pushed on him slightly.

Hermione held on to the back of the dresser, ignoring the mirror that was moving with them. Ron kept up a litany of epithets, using crass language that she appreciated after not hearing his swearing except in letters. All she cared about right now, now that he had quieted the cacophony in her head with that first, very important orgasm, was holding on and feeling everything he brought out, from passion she kept firmly stifled to the quiet in her head in these treasured moments, to –

"Oh shit!"

The way Ron said it made Hermione open her eyes – that and the movement of Ron lifting her from the dresser and carrying her across the room. She saw his eyes – the darkest shade of blue she's ever seen them – and felt them falling back into the bedclothes. They landed with an oomph and she shifted her knees and kept going, feeling a slight pinch in her back. She ignored it and kept going. It wasn't important, not while she was so close to silencing the growing noise in her head.

Ron pulled her closer to his face, kissing her 'til she pulled away to catch her breath.

"Ron," she said but he kept moving. He pushed her up and down on his hips and Hermione fell back into her rhythm, feeling another wave washing over her. The final one crashed over her and she moaned and he did too, seconds later, before they fell into the bedclothes.

Hermione lifted her head first, moving to where she could lay across Ron's chest. "Ron, why did we move from the dresser?" She lifted her head from his sweaty chest and saw his cheeks blazing red.

"Um, look behind you, love."

She turned her head some and saw that the mirror was gone from the dresser. She crawled across the rumpled bedclothes to the edge, ignoring a hand running across her backside to see that the mirror had fallen from the dresser onto the ground, shattering utterly.

Hermione looked and saw Ron's legs, which were now up on the bed, covered in what looked like little red pinpricks. "Ron!"

"Stay on the bed," he barked at her and she froze. "I'll not have you hurt walking on the floor with all that broken glass."

"So where is your wand?"

He rolled to the side of the bed and picked it up from where it rolled across the floor from the dresser top. He lifted his wand, the one he stole off of Pettigrew those months ago, and handed it to Hermione. She pointed the wand at his legs and silently removed any glass in his skin before using magic to heal any small cuts on his legs and feet.

"Thanks," he sighed dramatically. "I need check you over."

She shifted up tall onto her knees and let Ron look her up and down. "I don't see anything on the front. Maybe you should turn around." She did and he grunted. "Give me my wand. You have two, on your legs, so lie down on your stomach, dear."

Hermione moved back down onto her stomach and felt Ron touching the skin on the backs of her legs and on her bum. She felt a sting and a pinch before Ron touched her again, caressing the skin. "I thought I'd moved you fast enough from the falling mirror. Guess I wasn't quite fast enough." He laid down next to her, with his arms and head hanging over the edge of the bed.

"We can repair it straight away."

"I'll do it since I didn't think to keep the mirror with an unbreakable charm on it," Ron turned faintly pink. "And keep it with a sticking charm on that wall so we don't have a repeat of this."

"So you intend to have your way with me on that dresser again, do you?"

"I do. See, the dresser top is just the right height for me to – "

"Ron!" Hermione blushed before turning her head away. "You really thought that out, didn't you?"

"I've not seen you in months, Hermione. A bloke gets to thinking and sometimes those are randy thoughts. It only happens a few times an hour, or so."

Hermione rolled over and Ron shifted to hover over her. "It's so weird, that you think of me that way."

He watched her looking everywhere but his face. "Don't you think of me that way too?"

She finally looked at his face, smiling gently. "Let me show you how I think of you, love," she whispered before pulling him down to her and kissing him softly on the lips. "I might not masturbate to you," her cheeks turned red even with her darker features, "but I've missed this, and you, more than I can ever tell you. I dearly love you and miss you terribly, so much that this is what is most important to me." She kissed him again and felt him moving above her, nestling in between her knees. "It's about sex, but it's about missing you, whom I love more than I can say." She pulled him down onto her heaving chest, relishing his weight pressing her into the bedclothes. His weight was just right, overwhelming while also comforting.

"That much?" His face was so close to hers that breath intermingled between them.

"Yes, that much. I need you," she moved her feet to tuck behind his bum again. "And I want to let actions speak louder than my words."

They continued to communicate, letting their actions speak louder than their words.

Fortunately, elf magic kept their meal warm, when they did drift downstairs to tuck into their supper, many hours later than they anticipated.