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Alone Together

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Ron watched Hermione, curled in a plush blue armchair, face and mind buried in the pages of a book. It was a novel; unusual for her before the war but not so much after. She couldn’t seem to get enough of escapism these days. Neither could he, Ron thought, but his usually involved watching her in her chair, her long thick curls falling around her shoulders. He couldn’t get enough of her.

She turned a page and glanced up, catching his eye and smiling serenely. Her face glowed a soft orange in the firelight. They were at Shell Cottage, house-sitting for Bill and Fleur while they visited her family in France. It felt much cosier than it had on their first visit, and was far less crowded. She closed her book and held it on her lap, tilting her head ever so slightly to the side.

“Are you bored?” She asked, picking up the mug of butter beer on the small table beside her chair and taking a sip.

Ron shook his head, drinking from his own cup before grinning at her.

“Not in the slightest. I...” His ears flushed slightly pink and he was glad that his hair, which was getting slightly long and shaggy, covered them. “I like watching you read,” he mumbled.

Hermione’s cheeks flushed to match Ron ears. They had been properly together, a real couple, for a few months now but things still felt new - they were still adjusting. Getting together during a war did that.

She got up, crossing the room and sliding onto Ron’s lap, arms clasping around his shoulders and neck. She planted a kiss on each of his cheeks as he nuzzled into her neck, breathing in her perfume. Jasmine and ylang ylang. Soft and slightly sweet. Ron took a deep breath. These were his favourite moments. Moments they were alone together, when he could feel her love radiate from her in looks and touches. When he wasn’t concerned about everyone and everything else, constantly comparing himself to them. In these moments Hermione made him feel like the only man in the world.

“How you feeling tonight?” He whispered against her neck.

Hermione rested her head against his, gazing into the flickering fire. He always checked. They both had their dark moments these days. Moments in which they weren’t all there, were reliving other times they would rather forget. Sometimes hearing a joke would make Ron’s breath catch in his throat and he would see Fred’s body, his brother’s body, an empty shell. Sometimes he had nightmares that left him drenched in sweat, hair and clothes sticking to his body. Always in his dreams he lost someone. Members of his family falling like pawns in a game of wizard chess. He tried not to think about the time Hermione had featured in one of these dreams, lifeless on the floor of Malfoy Manor, broken and bloodied.

He held her closer and looked up into her face. He knew that day featured in her nightmares too. Knew she worried about her parents, somewhere in Australia, or so she hoped. They had plans to travel there and find them, but sometimes Ron could tell Hermione was scared of what she would find. Scared of seeing what their lives were without her.

Still, she smiled down at him.

“I’m good. Today is... Good.”

He nodded in agreement, his fingers finding hers.

“Not good. Brilliant.” He squeezed her hand. “Love you.”

Hermione laughed softly, happily, her good mood glowing off her and lifting Ron’s spirits higher in turn.

“I love you too, Ronald.”

He rolled his eyes but said nothing, not in the mood for any bickering, playful or not. He reached around Hermione and took another sip of his drink before offering his own cup to Hermione. She shook her head and with a flick of her wand, which had been tucked behind her ear, her own cup flew across the room into her hand. She drank deeply.

Ron watched her do this, still in awe of her masterful wordless magic, something which he failed at, persistently. She must have seen his awed expression because she blushed again, wriggling slightly on his lap as she sipped her drink. Her little movements tugged at something deep in the pit of Ron’s stomach, but he tried to push this budding feeling down, unsure of now was the time.

“You know I hate to say it, ‘Mione,” he said, clasping his hands around her waist, “but you are the most talented witch I’ve ever seen.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Ronald.” Hermione replied in a slightly sing-song voice. She kissed his cheek again, right hand settling to rest on his collar bone.

Ron quirked an eyebrow at her. “Is that so?” He took the mug of butter beer from her other hand and placed it on the floor next to his own.

“I guess could think of a few more nice things to say, y’know, if I really tried.”

Hermione slapped his shoulder gently, playing at scornful.

“Honestly, Ronald.”

“Mhmm?” He returned, reading the look on Hermione’s face. He was getting good at understanding her, her little movements and teasing that could only lead to great things. He knew where this was going. He shifted his hands slightly so that now he was gripping either side of her waist tightly, holding her steady in his lap. He was much bigger than her and considerably stronger too, and he was beginning to learn how much she liked this.

When she dipped her head to kiss him, hard, he knew he’d read her signals right. He couldn’t help but silently congratulate himself. He may not know much, but he knew Hermione. That was more than enough.

He kissed her back, one hand finding its way into her hair. And god how he loved her hair. He shifted his other hand to cup her arse and stood up, lifting her in his arms as he did so, causing her to let out a little gasp between kisses. He gave her a rueful smile and asked,

“This okay?”

“Oh my god, yes.” Hermione replied. The flush in her cheeks had spread a little to her neck and he could feel her heart beat quickening against his chest. More good signs.

He carried her up the stairs, having to stop a couple of times to steady himself while she kissed his neck, not wanting to trip and drop her. On their way to their bedroom, they passed another, much smaller room and Ron couldn’t help but pause. Hermione looked up too, craning her neck slightly to look over her shoulder at what Ron was looking at. It was the little room Hermione had slept in their first night at shell cottage, after they escaped Bellatrix and Voldemort. It was the room he had gone to to comfort her, the room they had spent their first night together in. It was a bittersweet memory. Hermione turned back and smiled at him, her sweetest smile.

“I think we’ll need a slightly bigger bed tonight.”

That was enough to turn Ron’s attention back to the moment at hand. He carried her on to their current room, much larger and with a double bed. A white frame with deep blue bedsheets. Blue and white seemed to be the compulsory colours for a seaside cottage.

He dropped Hermione onto the bed, experience telling him that she liked it when he was a little rougher, and crawled on top of her, pressing his weight onto her a little, but not too much. He kissed her again, hard and deep, before moving down to her neck and sucking for a few moments, leaving her with a deep purple love bite. Another thing he knew she liked. She let out soft little moans as he did this, the sound of it driving him crazy, getting him harder. He growled against her skin and she moaned louder.

“Tell me what you want, Hermione.”

He felt her little shiver of pleasure beneath him at this command. She was rocking her hips against his now, trying desperately to create some friction between them. He had to work hard on controlling himself, stopping himself from just tearing her clothes off and fucking her. He wanted to give her what she wanted, to make her feel the same way she made him.

“I... I...” She always got flustered when she had to talk about what she liked, what she wanted from him. For Ron though, this just made it even hotter.

He watched as she took a deep breath in, watched her chest rise and fall. He was struggling with his patience.

“Ron, I... want you to choke me.”

He hadn't been expecting that. He knew she liked it a little rough, liked him a bit aggressive and he was more than happy to oblige. It was in his nature to be possessive. It wasn’t that the thought of it didn’t turn him on, to his surprise, it did, greatly. He just wasn’t entirely certain.

“Hermione, are you sure? I don’t want to, actually, y’know, hurt you.”

Hermione nodded quickly, squeezing Ron’s hip.

“I’m. I’m sure. I’ve wanted it for... god, Ron, so long. Please.” She then added more quietly.
“I kind of want you to hurt me. Just a little bit.”

Ron stared at her, not entirely sure what to feel. The longing was clear in her voice, her arousal more evident than ever, and even he found this idea just a little exciting. He didn’t want to cause her pain, but he really did like whatever she liked. Getting her off was what got him off. He kissed her quickly, not wanting to lose the momentum they had built.

He pulled away and shifted himself, getting into what he thought would be a good position. He looked into her face again, unable to stop himself from triple checking. She nodded faster still, eyes pleading with him.

“Choke me.”

Her words shot a spike of pleasure through him, the want in her voice enough to give him the reassurance he needed. He placed his hands around her throat and squeezed, gently at first. When it was clear she was handling it well, he tightened his grip, watching the expression of pure ecstasy on her face. That look egged him on further and he squeezed for a few seconds more before releasing Hermione’s neck and letting her catch her breath.


Hermione was floating on cloud nine, her brain fuzzy, her limbs light. She stirred as the oxygen found its way back into her body, Ron’s face coming back into focus. Concern was clear in his expression, but beneath it, she could see what he’d done had turned him on, feel his cock rock hard, pressed against her stomach.

“Fuck,” she murmured, her voice a soft whisper. “Fuck, Ron, feels so good...”

She reached out to guide his hand back to her throat but he shook his head, brushing her away.

“Gonna do it while I’m fucking you this time,” he murmured, his voice low. “Take off your clothes”

He shifted to the side of her to allow her room to do so.She wasted no time, pulling her dress up over her head and wriggling her knickers down off her hips. Ron repositioned himself back on top of her, leaning down and nipping her bottom lip as he did so. She let out a soft moan, feeling emboldened by the request she had already made. Before he had unbuckled his jeans she whispered.

“You can... you can tie me up, too. Please tie me up. With your belt.”

Ron had no protests at this request, quickly sliding his belt off and wrapping it around her wrists, securing her tightly to the headboard. She lay beneath him, arms stretched above her head, chest laid bare. She tugged experimentally at her restraints and couldn’t help but gasp with pleasure at the feeling of it, of being at his mercy. She loved how safe he made her feel, even like this.

Ron ducked his head, catching one of her nipples between his teeth before sucking on it, making her moan and roll her hips against his. He pushed his jeans and boxers down around his knees before reaching down and pressing his hand to Hermione’s cunt. He let out a low, happy groan and Hermione blushed the deepest she had all evening.

“You liked that, didn’t you, ‘Mione? You’re soaking wet, baby.”

“Liked it so much, Ron,” was her breathy reply as she arched into his touch, his finger slipping easily into her. “Please fuck me, please... I’m all yours, want you to fuck me and choke me and... please

Within seconds Ron’s finger was replaced by his cock, sliding deep inside her. He slowly built up a rhythm, pulling out almost entirely before painstakingly filling her all the way again. With every motion Hermione let out little cries of pleasure, tugging at her physical restraints but unable to restrain herself verbally.

“You want it so badly, don’t you? Want me to squeeze the air out of you, fuck you hard, make you all mine...”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of him teasing her, he fucked her hard, in earnest, and moved his right hand to grip her throat, squeezing hard. Lights popped in her line of vision, that same floaty feeling returning to her as her breath left her, though every muscle in her began to tighten as every glorious sensation overwhelmed her body. She came hard, the hardest she ever had, unable to scream, though her body may as well have. Seconds later, Ron released his grip of her.


Watching her writhing beneath him, feeling her cunt tremble and tighten around his cock, it was enough to send Ron over the edge after her. He came inside her, groaning and pressing his forehead to hers as he did, remaining there for a few seconds before pulling out of her. He had lie there for a moment, catching his breath, before he remembered to free Hermione from her restraints. Once he had done so he scooped her into his arms, kissing the red marks he had left on her neck and wrists. She was sweaty, her hair sticking to her forehead, and a little limp in his arms.

“You all good?” He tried to keep himself from sounding overly concerned, reminding himself that he hadn’t done anything she hadn’t asked for.

“God, yes. That was... Ron, seriously. That was the best it’s ever...”

He couldn’t help but grin, happy to have made her so happy.

“Thank fuck. And I didn’t hurt you? Or, I guess, you liked it if I did?”

“I loved it, every second. You were so amazing. So hot.”

Hermione’s voice was a little hoarse, Ron could tell she was exhausted.

“Wanna have a shower before bed, love?” He asked and she shook her head.

“Bath, I think. Will you come with me? Not for, y’know. Tired. Just for, nice soapy hugs.”

Ron chuckled.


He traced his finger across the red marks on her neck. “Want me to heal these before we go?”

Hermione shook her head again, nuzzling into him.

“Not while it’s just us here. Like them.”

“If you’re sure.”

Hermione yawned, nodding.

“C’mon,” she said sleepily. “Bath. Or I’ll fall asleep in it and drown.”

Ron laughed, picking her up in his arms again to carry her to their en suite.

“Like I would ever let that happen.”