Title: Late At Night
Author: Me!
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Rating: T or M
Warnings: Some non-graphic sex.
Summary: Ron and Hermione's not so simple relationship during the last four books.

Yay for a new story! This idea has been in my head for such a long time that finally posting it feels surreal. It also means that if it ends up sucking I will feel that much worse, so criticism should definitely be constructive. Also, this is meant to be a multi-chapter story, unless of course you hate it and don't want more.

Disclaimer: I don't think you're so stupid as to ever think it, but no, I do not own Harry Potter.

... but Ron just stood there in his too-small pajamas, and Harry, having stormed upstairs, lay awake in bed fuming for a long time afterward and didn't hear him come up to bed.

- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, chapter nineteen, page 336, US edition

Ron bitterly watched the simmering fire, feelings of anger and jealousy brewing in his head. He was sure he had heard voices, but according to the triwizard champion, he was crazy. Well screw him! If Harry wanted to be mad at Ron that was just fine. It's not like Ron needs him to be happy! He could have plenty of fun on his own. He could-

The sound of footsteps brought Ron out of his trance. Expecting to find Harry, Ron made up his best angry face, and was pleasantly surprised to see Hermione, slowly tiptoeing down the stairs; a confused look nestled on her face.

"I heard voices" she said at once, hands on her hips, lips pursed.

"Who's?" Ron asked, hoping that maybe he wasn't the only one who thought Harry was up to something.

"Yours and Harry's." Of course, it was him and Harry. Jerk. "You sounded mad, and I wanted to come and see if you two gits have made up yet."

"Oh, well the famous one isn't here. Sorry," Ron said, stalking off to sit on the couch. He was surprised to see Hermione's angry look turn sweet, as she softly sat next to him.

"I'm not on Harry's side," she said smiling "you know, in the fight."

"So you think Harry put his name in the cup?"

Her smile faded slightly "Well… no, I don't think he put his name in that cup."

"Oh, so you just think I'm second best like everyone else does, do you?"

"No! Of course I don't think that! I never said anything of the sort!"

"Well then how can you be on my side when you believe him?" Ron questioned her.

"Well, I don't think Harry put his name in the cup, but I understand why you're… you know."

"What?"

She looked away and whispered quietly, "jealous."

Ron was in infuriated. "I am not jealous of him!"

"Of course you are. It's more then crystal clear," she said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world "but I understand why."

"Okay, why am I jealous then," he asked sarcastically.

"Well, you grew up with five brothers who all accomplished a lot, and then when you came to Hogwarts you had Harry, the boy who lived, as you best friend."

"Don't forget that my other best friend is a total genius" he added.

Hermione blushed. "I wasn't going the mention that one" she ran a hand over her hair "but really, it's quite clear that feelings of jealousy were inevitable. Which is crazy, seeing as there are tons of things you're better than Harry at?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Like what?"

"Well, you're an excellent chess player, can't even beat me ("everyone can beat you" "shut up"), and you know lots about Quidditch and" she blushed "there are other things."

"What other things?" Ron asked, baffled.

"Just other ways in which you're better then Harry."

"Well I want to know these other ways," he told her, voice rising. "Their about me, aren't they? Don't I have the right to know what they are?"

"Alright, um…" she seemed to be searching for the right words (since when did Hermione need to take time to find words?) "You surpass him in the – um… – physical sense, and he seems unable to match you with his … outward appearance."

Ron thought about this for a moment.

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" Ron shouted loader then he meant to. "I mean… what on earth are you talking about?"

Hermione was exasperated. "It means I thing you're better looking, you git!"

At this point, Ron had to force himself to stop and thing for a moment; here was Hermione (Hermione! Whom, he had to admit, looked pretty good (hot?) with her lips all pursed and the first couple buttons on her nightshirt coming undone) telling him, Ronald Bilius Weasley, that she found him better looking then the Triwizard Champion Harry Potter. Was she mad (or madder then usual?) Had someone put her up to this? Did she (god forbid?) fancy him?

"You… you what?" Ron finally asked for after sometime.

Hermione was still blushing furiously. "I think that in terms of attractiveness, you beat him" she smiled "by a lot."

The tone of the room seemed to grow quite awkward, quite quickly, as the dim light and romantic (was that the right word?) fire became clearer in their long silence.

"Well," Ron said finally, "some good-looking guy I am. Can't even snog a girl."

"Harry hasn't snogged anyone either."

"But at least he's got girls who want to kiss him," Ron concluded gloomily. "No girl in their right mind would want to do anything like that with me."

"Ron, that's simply not true," Hermione reassured him, "I'm sure there are several girls who would want to kiss you."

"Really," he replied in a doubting voice "so if you were forced to snog either me or Harry, you'd pick me?"

"I most certainly would," she said surely. And then, out of nowhere, the most mischievous smile fell on her face. "In fact, I have an idea that could be quite beneficiary for both of us, if course you want to."

"What is it?"

"Well," she suddenly became nervous "you've never kissed anyone and I've never kissed anyone, and so wouldn't is be – productive if we just… kissed each other?"

Ron's eyes winded.

"Of course in the most unromantic way" she rushed, "it's just that if we did, I would have something to compare to when I really kiss someone, and you would have kissed someone when Harry hadn't and…you don't like it, do you? I knew that you-"

"I think its brilliant" he cut her off, cheeks rosy red, "just, really brilliant idea."

"You really like it?"

"Yeah, defiantly."

"Well then" Hermione began, "we should get on with it. Do you want to use tongue?"

"Yes" Ron said very quickly, "I mean… whatever you want."

"I think we should" she said, "It'll be better practice."

"Right, practice."

"So should we just – lean in?"

"I think so."

"Well, aright then…"

They both leaned in, and, after several mishaps (they weren't entirely sure where to lean) their lips met. At first, it's somewhat odd; they aren't exactly sure what, or how, to do what they're supposed to be doing. Where do they turn their heads? How do they turn their heads? How much tongue should they use, and how exactly are they to use it? It was all so confusing!

This period of weirdness doesn't last partially long - once they get themselves a rhythm going it all moves quite fast, to the point where neither can make a note, before he's lying on top of her on the couch, a couplemore of the buttons (scratch that: most of the buttons) of her nightshirt undone, small bits of hot sweat sticking to both their bodies.

For a while, Ron can't tell if Hermiones enjoying it, somehow forgetting the fact that her tongue keeps sticking in his mouth, so when she brings her hand to the bottom of his shirt and starts to pull if off, he's quite taken aback.

"What… what are you doing?" he whispered into her lips.

"I… I mean, I thought it was sort of obvious" she says in a breathless voice, "it wasn't?"

And suddenly, an – amazing! – thought occurred to him

"Are we going to… you know, do it?" Ron asked, trying his best not the throw up with excitement.

"I think so," she was blushing again, "you haven't ever-"

"No! I have not. Have you?"

"Of course not" Hermione brushed of quickly, "I'm not a harlot!"

"I was just asking… we are about to shag, right?"

"Well," be began, finally getting his shirt off, "do you have any other suggestions?"

"No" he said quickly.

And so, the two proceeded to, for lack of a better word, shag. It's very clumsily and awkward and when enters her and she begins to cry, Ron's not sure if this whole "shagging" thing is all it's cracked up to be. He's heard stories from Bill and Charlie about how sex was supposed to be a load of fun, but Ron didn't see it. (Alright, that was a bit of a lie. Besides Hermione's obvious discomfort (which made him happy), Ron was finding the whole situation quite pleasing.)

And then, out of nowhere, something amazing happened.

She moaned. Hermione Granger moaned a moan because of him, and it might have been the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. It wasn't for very long, nor was it very load, but Ron was sure he could die a thousand deaths and never forget it. And the world was perfect.

And, only a few minutes later, they were coming, her moaning and him grunting. Him a little harder, but really, it's all just statistics; they both finish and that's what matters.

They're quiet while getting dressed; probably something to do with the massive amount of awkwardness that has filled the room. The first words spoken aren't exactly pleasant.

"So, this isn't happening again, right?" Hermione asks (sadly).

"Oh… yeah, one time thing" he replied in a shaky voice.

It wasn't.

So what do you think? Good? Bad? Anything I should change? Please tell me if I should continue!