TITLE: Five Firsts
AUTHOR: ponderer
SUMMARY: Five firsts with Ron and Hermione. Not the ones you may have thought of.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: As always, read, review, and all that jazz. You have no idea how much your support means to me.

Five Firsts: Part the First

The first second kiss.

Ron found her in the hospital wing helping Madame Pomfrey to mend all those wounded during the final battle of the Voldemort era. He had just come from Fred's bedside, done for the moment with mourning, in the search of something good, something to make him think of what he had fought for; Hermione. She was exhausted looking and it wasn't just because of the battle and the fighting and finding out Harry had died but then that he was only faking and was really alive (Bugger off Harry, for that one). Hell, he was exhausted too, and nothing seemed more appetizing than taking a long hot shower and sleeping for at least a week, but then he saw Hermione and changed his mind.

"Do you need any help?" he murmured to her, coming from behind where she was currently bandaging up a sixth year Ravenclaw student that Ron couldn't recognize. Hermione sighed and turned to him and he wanted nothing more than to whisk her from the room and away from all the bad and make her smile again. But he knew that she wouldn't leave until she couldn't stand and he knew he wouldn't rest until she did.

"Yes, could you please hand me that vial by the bed?" she asked tiredly. She smiled though, a small one, but it was enough for now. Ron nodded and moved toward the vial Hermione asked for. He silently handed it to her and she went about and poured some into a goblet, handing it to the newly bandaged girl. "Drink this and you should sleep peacefully. Madame Pomfrey will be able to help you more when you wake up. For now, sleep and think of the morning sun," she whispered to the girl, moving her hair away from her forehead as the girl lay back on her pillows, heaving a sigh.

"Thank you," the girl muttered before a huge yawn erupted from her bloodied mouth. The potion Hermione had given her had already taken affect. Hermione nodded, standing there an extra moment, then, tucking the blanket around the girl, she went about cleaning up her small pile and moved to the large counter. Ron followed behind her faithfully.

"Have you eaten anything?" he asked her worriedly. Hermione shook her head no while putting all of the things away. Ron frowned. "The house-elves prepared sandwiches and hot soup downstairs for anyone who was hungry. I reckon Harry's down there with the lot of them. He was wondering where you were." This was only half a lie. He knew that if she thought Harry needed her, she would come faster than if Ron himself asked.

"He did not, Ronald. I know it's you that worried," Hermione said but Ron spotted her lips curling up slightly. She was pleased.

"Well, why don't you come down for a kip? I'm famished. Feels like I haven't had a decent meal in months." Hermione laughed and slapped him playfully on the shoulder.

"Are you saying something against my cooking capabilities?"

"Oh, not at all! I probably wouldn't enjoy it anyways, not with being so used to burnt mushrooms and undercooked fish." Hermione's smile was his reward to his joke, and he knew that she knew he was only half-joking. "Please, you should rest. We deserve it."

Hermione looked around the wing helplessly. "There's so much more to do, more that I can do here."

"What you need to do is come away from here and eat before you end up lying in a bed here too," he answered, grabbing onto her hand. It was the first physical contact they'd had since their earlier embrace and the feeling of her skin felt phenomenal. She flushed too, looking down at their clasped hands. In response, he tightened his hold and she looked up at him again. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face was caked with dirt and yet Ron had never seen anything so beautiful. He decided she needed to know, "You're so beautiful."

For the first time, Hermione didn't argue. She simply blushed and followed Ron's lead down to the Main Hall where many were eating. Harry was sitting beside Ginny, his hand on her thigh, hers on his shoulder. It looked awkward, because they were eating with their opposite hands, but they didn't seem to mind, kissing each other's lips every few moments because they could; finally. Hermione and Ron followed their lead and sat down across from them where dishes and bowls appeared in front of them.

Ron, as usual, made to dive in, but he saw Hermione break a small piece of bread off and nibble on it and changed his mind. First, he used the ladle to pour a large helping of soup into her bowl, then plucked half of a turkey sandwich onto her small plate. He looked at her pleadingly and with a small growl, she proceeded to take a bite into her sandwich, then as he watched, she took up speed and ate with such a force that Harry and Ginny took a moment away from each other's lips to gaze at her in wonder.

"What?" Hermione asked at their stares, a piece of lettuce falling from her lips. Ron didn't chuckle, but was pleased that she was eating so he made himself up a plate.

"How are you feeling?" Ginny asked him as she watched him blow on his soup filled spoon. He took a large slurp and groaned (it was chicken noodle, delicious!).

"Like I could sleep for ten years," he answered his little sister, smiling. He already couldn't wait to escape upstairs. Hermione and Harry nodded their agreement.

"I could sleep for ten years, although I think many would be disappointed," Harry admitted.

"I don't think anyone could be disappointed by what you did tonight Harry," Hermione said quietly. "You were amazing. Dumbledore would have been so proud." Ron nodded, looking towards his best friend who was just as dirty as the rest of them.

Harry looked bashful, head bent down towards his empty plate. Ron thought that this was why his best friend had survived, why he was a true hero; that even after saving the world and surviving to tell the tale, he was embarrassed. Ron's inner monologue was interrupted by said hero, "I couldn't have done it without either of you. I don't know what else I would have done if you hadn't been there these past seven years." Hermione and Ginny were in tears, grinning. Ron patted his friend on the back with his own lop-sided grin.

"Neither can we," he answered. There was a silence throughout the hall, and then cheers as everyone once again applauded the Boy Who Lived.

-

Ron's arm was curved around Hermione the entire time back up to the dormitory where they had stayed for six years of their lives. Hermione didn't necessarily want to leave Ron's side, nor Harry's, because she was so used to their snores and sleep patterns that she was sure she wouldn't be able to sleep. It was much like Shell Cottage when she awoke several times at night only hearing silence beyond the darkness of her bedroom. She doesn't say anything to Ron about it though, because she didn't want any more unnecessary concern (although she was quite sure he wouldn't mind).

They walked straight to the stairs, mumbling hellos to the other residents of the night as they went. Stopping right before the staircase, Ron turned Hermione to face him.

"Well, I suppose this is goodnight," he said, running his fingers up and down her arms. Hermione nodded, suddenly shy. This was Ron of all people, and she wasn't sure what she was so worried about.

"Yes, I suppose tomorrow is another busy day." Ron smiled a small, sad smile that didn't reach his eyes and Hermione wished for nothing more than that brightness to shine. Throwing her arms around his neck, she mumbled a kiss into his exposed skin above the collar of his torn shirt. His arms were behind her back, running strongly against where her shirt had ridden up. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't survived," she admitted quietly. When he didn't respond, Hermione wondered if she had spoken too lowly for him to hear.

"I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't survived," he repeated tenderly, squeezing her in surprise. She hugged him all the tighter, trying to be brave and step away from his warm body that was alive and well. She finally gathered the courage and pulled away, turning to climb the stairs.

His hand on her elbow stopped her and she turned to face him. Leaning in with one hand cupping her cheek, he moved slowly looking her straight in the eye before the briefest and sweetest brush of his lips on hers. She gasped at the touch, how much it ignited the blood pumping in her veins and accelerating her heart beat. He stayed still, his lips just a breath away from hers. She fluttered her eyes open, her eyelashes brushing his cheekbones, to see his eyes opened with that bright blue in his irises.

"Sweet dreams, love," he murmured. She nodded, unable to speak. Her knees were weak as she turned to face the stairs again. She wasn't sure how she made it upstairs, but she was fairly sure she floated the entire time.