Fic Post: HP, R/Hr, R
Title: "Things They Should Have Taught Us In School"
Author: Stoney
Fandom: Harry freaking Potter
Pairing: Ron/Hermione *waves OTP flag*
Summary: Set during Deathly Hallows, in Grimmauld Place. Levi-lovin', chicky bow! How much did Ron learn from his sex book the twins gave him?
A/N: Massive thanks to marenfic for the beta. Any remaining mistakes are hers. I mean mine! Mine. This is for southernbangel who requested "dry humping." Which is why I love her. <3
DISCLAIMER: I make no money from fanfiction, and I'm not seeking any, either. All characters belong to JKR, except for that character down the street. I bought him for seven cents. I think I over paid. Did you actually read this line?
"Her arm curved to the floor, her fingers inches from Ron's. Harry wondered whether they had fallen asleep holding hands." ~HP: And The Deathly Hallows, page 176
******
Things They Should Have Taught Us In School
******
She was moaning fitfully in her sleep again. She had every night since they got to Grimmauld Place, in fact. Ron, still half asleep, fumbled in the dark for her arm, gave it a few reassuring strokes, and linked his fingers with hers. Hermione stopped almost immediately and curled in towards him. Ron fell back asleep, his nose pressed against the sofa cushion and her hair. Their hands were linked under his chin.
As they had every morning since her nightmares began, Hermione greeted the day with a crisp, “Good morning,” and set about making coffee while the boys straightened the room. She would, however, give Ron his coffee first.
***
While the three of them were bedding down in the drawing room, Ron and Hermione had always ended up as close together as their sleeping arrangements would allow. Their sleeping bags were all that kept them from touching, most nights. Harry had moved unceremoniously to Sirius' bedroom one afternoon. Ron, leaning in the doorway of the kitchen while Hermione poured over books, gave a shy smile to Harry as he moved his things up the stairs. Harry flashed a grin.
That first night with just the two of them, they were both too nervous to even look at each other. Ron made a show of fanning out his sleeping bag over and over, trying to make it closer to Hermione's, who had re-fluffed her cushions and moved several inches away from her previous sleeping spot. They woke up with hands clasped the next morning and Ron's nose in Hermione's hair.
The next night, Ron was very eager to get to bed. He kept yawning and stretching after they'd eaten a small dinner and poured over their notes and maps. Harry took the hint and bade them good night and climbed the stairs to his new room. Hermione continued to pour over her books. Ron grasped for straws.
"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm knackered. Think I'll turn in." He reached up and grabbed the lintel and stretched, noticing it made his biceps appear larger. Hermione kept reading.
"Alright then. Good night, Ronald."
Ron bit his lip. He yawned again and scratched at his belly, rucking up the front of his shirt as he did so. "Well... 'night."
"Mmm."
She hadn't even looked up. Fuming a bit, he stomped off to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He checked his hair, looked up his nostrils, sniffed under his arm... Nothing. Not one thing offensive. He grabbed the sides of the sink and looked in the mirror at himself. "It’s just like in Chapter Three of 12 Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Witches! She's just playing hard to get."
The mirror, in a 'that's the spirit' intonation replied, "They all do, dear."
He lay down on his bag, trying to arrange his lanky form as becomingly as possible. Every time he heard Hermione turn a page, his scowl became more pronounced, which is to say that after a minute - she was a fast reader, after all - he was frowning deeply. He heard chair legs scraping on the wooden floor and threw a hand over his head and tried to look casual, as if he were almost completely asleep. After a bit, he cracked an eye and saw that she had just gotten a different book from her things and had gone back to the kitchen to read.
He punched his pillow into shape and scooted like a snake to move his bag away from Hermione's cushions. "We'll see if she gets any comforting tonight. A bloke needs a bit, too, you know." He fell into a fitful sleep.
***
Hermione was moaning again. Ron, half asleep, pulled his arm out of his bag to reach behind him for hers. He couldn't find her hand. Now she was moaning and crying softly. Ron turned over to reach for her, then remembered he had scooted across the room. He inched his way back and saw Hermione lying on top of her sleeping bag on the edge of the cushions. She was turning her face this way and that as if someone was forcing her to look at something in her dream. Ron reached out and took her hand, his thumb stroking across her knuckles.
"Shhh. 's okay. Shhh."
She softly cried out, "Ron."
He propped himself up on one elbow and stroked her hair. "Shh. It's okay, Hermione. I'm right here."
She curled in on herself in her sleep, but gripped his hand tighter. He gave it a tug, pulling her towards him. She rolled over to him, clutching his chest and nestling in at his side. She buried her nose in the crook of his shoulder and neck and rested her knee on Ron's legs.
Ron was now completely awake. He lay stock still, every nerve ending jangling from the excitement and fear of a girl, of this girl, laying beside him. Not even beside but on top of him.
"I'm cold, Ronald."
"Oh. Yeah, right."
He flipped the end of his sleeping bag back over them and swallowed thickly as Hermione wriggled and adjusted her body to be more comfortable, which apparently consisted of being even closer to him and shifting her hips so her leg covered both of his. He needed to shift the arm she was lying on - pins and needles were already forming - but he was afraid she'd disappear if he moved.
Finally, he decided that if his arm fell off, she'd really not find him attractive, so he shifted more to his side and brought his pinned arm out from under her and cuddled her more comfortably. She moaned. Or was it a purr? At any rate, that was definitely her nose and lips next to his neck. Every molecule in his body was focused on the heat from her breath on that one square inch of his neck. He licked his bottom lip.
Fred and George had made this sound so much easier than it was turning out to be. With Lavender, she had just sort of attacked him when she wanted to snog. But this wasn't Lavender, this was Hermione. And he couldn't just attack her, she was asleep! Her thumb moved in small circles on his chest. Did girls... fondle in their sleep? He stopped breathing for several moments, focusing solely on the sensation of her hand touching him. She shifted slightly and her mouth left his neck for the briefest of moments and then returned, but he would swear it was closer. He had a flash of brilliance, for him at any rate. Maybe she’s faking being asleep... Her hand flexed and stroked on his chest again.
Heart of a lion, heart of a lion. He plucked up every bit of courage he could and turned towards her. It must be taking hours - surely it was impossible to move this slowly. His nose rested right on her forehead. Damn. She was wriggling again. Blimey, couldn't she ever get comforta- Oh. He shifted as well and could feel her warm, sweet breath on his mouth. His eyes were squeezed shut. Just barely there. He moved forward just slightly and there she was. Her mouth on his. He had his lips on Hermione Granger. She was much softer than Lavender. Better lips. She made a small gasping noise, too, maybe she learned that from Vikt-
The tip of her tongue outlined the edge of his lower lip and he stopped thinking about Lavender and Viktor Krum. He buried a hand in her thick hair and rolled her to his back, half on top of her, supporting himself on his elbows. He kissed her deeply; he heard her whimper and his ears grew hot. She had incredibly soft lips, her skin smelled wonderful, and she made quiet little noises that made his toes curl. After a moment, he came up for air and rested his forehead on hers.
Hermione gasped, "Goodness."
He preened.
"Took you long enough."
He pulled back in shock and saw her smiling.
"I couldn't very well attack you, Ronald, not after... her"
His thumb stroked her cheek and he kissed her softly. "Yeah. Sorry about that. Just, you know... You snogged Viktor and I couldn't be the only one who hadn’t-"
She grabbed him by the ears and pulled his face back down to her, kissing him fiercely. His arms snaked under her, holding her closer. She was smaller, slighter than Lavender. Smelled better, too, natural and clean, not drenched in overpowering floral scents that suffocated him. He kissed her neck, behind her ear, under her chin. He could hear tiny whimpering noises that only egged him on until he realized they were coming from him. His face flushed with heat and he paused for a moment. Her hands made warm circles on his back, encouraging him to keep at it. Hermione bent one knee, bringing their bodies closer. His arms were trembling from holding himself up. He took some of the weight off his lower half by resting on top of her.
Halfway through kissing he realized that he was on top of her. She shifted her hips and their bodies came in contact there and he realized he was on top. On top of Hermione. And she was letting him! He wondered what else she'd let him do...
He stopped all thought when her hand slipped under his shirt in the back and he felt her finger tips running up his back and down his side. He couldn't help it, he giggled.
"Oh, honestly, Ronald."
"I can't help it! That tickles."
Her eyes narrowed like a cat. "Does it now?"
She ran her fingers up his sides again and across his chest and down. Ron squirmed when her short nails ran over his belly and he flopped onto his back. "Stop, Hermione!"
She had a decidedly determined look on her face. She kept at his sides, throwing a leg over him to pin him down. He grabbed her hips to lift her off when she found a particularly ticklish spot under his rib and he convulsed upward, his hands still on her hips.
"Oh." Her face had changed from determined teasing to a look of dreamy shock. Ron lost all feeling in his body, everywhere except where Hermione was straddled. She was biting her lip and moving forward slightly. He realized he had frozen when she had gasped. He rolled his hips once more, felt how warm her body was just there, and watched her face for clues as to what to do. Her tongue darted out and moistened her bottom lip. He gripped her hips and slid her up his length, quietly exhaling with the sensation of the soft friction of her on him. She leaned forward, her hair enclosing them, and began kissing him again.
He let go of her with one hand to hold her hair out of their faces. He was trying to keep it cool, to be, well, slick about all this, but Hermione kept lightly rubbing her lips back and forth over his, and he could feel her pressed against him, and he realized he was...hard. And she might feel that. And he might have to kill himself from embarrassment, especially if she slapped him and said "eww!" as Lavender had done that one time back at school.
He lay there, stock still with fear, while Hermione kissed his neck. She started rocking her hips back and forth. She was actually pressing herself against him, as if she wanted him to keep on touching her there with his body. He let his hands move of their own accord, now. Biting his lip (fortunately she was biting his ear lobe), he slowly let one hand creep up the back of her shirt. Her skin was amazingly soft and his whole hand almost spanned the width of her. She traced the edge of his ear with her tongue and sighed, "Oh, Ron." He let his other hand slip under the elastic of her pajama bottom and cupped her backside. She stopped nibbling his ear and pressed her face to his neck. I must be mental. I don't bloody well care... He pushed her against him, grinding up into her heat. She wrapped her arms around him and gasped.
He groaned quietly and murmured into her hair, "You feel ruddy brilliant, Hermione," and mentally slapped himself. Feel brilliant? She'll think I'm some sort of mania-
She was rocking back and forth in a faster rhythm and blocked all further insults he may have heaped upon himself. He slid his other hand under her pajama bottoms and gripped her smooth, round backside and pushed her down slowly against him, drawing out the friction and sensation. It was his first time, and he'd be buggered if it went off like a shot. He remembered the advice from Chapter 10 of his book, but mostly the advice that Fred and George had given him earlier that summer.
George smoothed his hair back from his face with a lascivious grin, "You want to play it slow--"
"--they love that, girls--" Fred winked.
"--because if she's not yet--" George gave a significant look.
"--and you're about to--" Fred grinned and flicked his eyes downward briefly.
"--then you've got to think of--"
They both chimed in, "Aunt Muriel."
He felt all hot and loose limbed; Hermione was gasping and biting at his neck, his hips were rocking and grinding up into her soft heat, and he knew what was coming. Auntie Muriel's mustache. Auntie Muriel cuffing me on the back of the head. Auntie Muriel's thick ankles. Auntie Mur-- oh, sod it. He held her tightly against him and pushed up, thrusting against her silky pajamas, stroking every inch of himself against her. Hermione had stopped breathing, he thought, and squeezed him tightly with her knees and sort of stuttered her rocking over him in a tight beat. The very tip was rubbing right on her--
Her legs shot back straight and she gripped him very tightly. She exhaled slowly and then relaxed on top of him, laughing a bit.
"Hermione, did you just--"
She sighed and pushed herself up, still straddling him. "Yes, Ron. D-didn't you?"
He looked mortified. "No, I bloody well didn't! I can't with-- not in my--!" He turned beet red. She laughed and ran a finger over his forehead, brushing his hair off of his face.
"I wouldn't mind if you had, you know. That's sort of the point."
"How do you know?" he stammered.
"You're not the only one with a book, Ronald. And that's not my first time. Well, it is with someone else there."
He didn't think he could be more shocked if You-Know-Who had appeared right next to him wearing a tiara. "You mean you've... you know. By yourself?" He looked at where their bodies touched with significance.
She lay down next to him drawing circles on his chest and smiled. "Of course. Though, my wand is nothing co-"
"Your wand?"
She blushed and kissed him. He thought he might be brave enough to try Chapter 12 on her after all.
***
That night she slept soundly, wrapped in Ron's arms. Ron, however, didn't sleep a wink.
Author: Stoney
Fandom: Harry freaking Potter
Pairing: Ron/Hermione *waves OTP flag*
Summary: Set during Deathly Hallows, in Grimmauld Place. Levi-lovin', chicky bow! How much did Ron learn from his sex book the twins gave him?
A/N: Massive thanks to marenfic for the beta. Any remaining mistakes are hers. I mean mine! Mine. This is for southernbangel who requested "dry humping." Which is why I love her. <3
DISCLAIMER: I make no money from fanfiction, and I'm not seeking any, either. All characters belong to JKR, except for that character down the street. I bought him for seven cents. I think I over paid. Did you actually read this line?
"Her arm curved to the floor, her fingers inches from Ron's. Harry wondered whether they had fallen asleep holding hands." ~HP: And The Deathly Hallows, page 176
******
Things They Should Have Taught Us In School
******
She was moaning fitfully in her sleep again. She had every night since they got to Grimmauld Place, in fact. Ron, still half asleep, fumbled in the dark for her arm, gave it a few reassuring strokes, and linked his fingers with hers. Hermione stopped almost immediately and curled in towards him. Ron fell back asleep, his nose pressed against the sofa cushion and her hair. Their hands were linked under his chin.
As they had every morning since her nightmares began, Hermione greeted the day with a crisp, “Good morning,” and set about making coffee while the boys straightened the room. She would, however, give Ron his coffee first.
***
While the three of them were bedding down in the drawing room, Ron and Hermione had always ended up as close together as their sleeping arrangements would allow. Their sleeping bags were all that kept them from touching, most nights. Harry had moved unceremoniously to Sirius' bedroom one afternoon. Ron, leaning in the doorway of the kitchen while Hermione poured over books, gave a shy smile to Harry as he moved his things up the stairs. Harry flashed a grin.
That first night with just the two of them, they were both too nervous to even look at each other. Ron made a show of fanning out his sleeping bag over and over, trying to make it closer to Hermione's, who had re-fluffed her cushions and moved several inches away from her previous sleeping spot. They woke up with hands clasped the next morning and Ron's nose in Hermione's hair.
The next night, Ron was very eager to get to bed. He kept yawning and stretching after they'd eaten a small dinner and poured over their notes and maps. Harry took the hint and bade them good night and climbed the stairs to his new room. Hermione continued to pour over her books. Ron grasped for straws.
"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm knackered. Think I'll turn in." He reached up and grabbed the lintel and stretched, noticing it made his biceps appear larger. Hermione kept reading.
"Alright then. Good night, Ronald."
Ron bit his lip. He yawned again and scratched at his belly, rucking up the front of his shirt as he did so. "Well... 'night."
"Mmm."
She hadn't even looked up. Fuming a bit, he stomped off to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He checked his hair, looked up his nostrils, sniffed under his arm... Nothing. Not one thing offensive. He grabbed the sides of the sink and looked in the mirror at himself. "It’s just like in Chapter Three of 12 Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Witches! She's just playing hard to get."
The mirror, in a 'that's the spirit' intonation replied, "They all do, dear."
He lay down on his bag, trying to arrange his lanky form as becomingly as possible. Every time he heard Hermione turn a page, his scowl became more pronounced, which is to say that after a minute - she was a fast reader, after all - he was frowning deeply. He heard chair legs scraping on the wooden floor and threw a hand over his head and tried to look casual, as if he were almost completely asleep. After a bit, he cracked an eye and saw that she had just gotten a different book from her things and had gone back to the kitchen to read.
He punched his pillow into shape and scooted like a snake to move his bag away from Hermione's cushions. "We'll see if she gets any comforting tonight. A bloke needs a bit, too, you know." He fell into a fitful sleep.
***
Hermione was moaning again. Ron, half asleep, pulled his arm out of his bag to reach behind him for hers. He couldn't find her hand. Now she was moaning and crying softly. Ron turned over to reach for her, then remembered he had scooted across the room. He inched his way back and saw Hermione lying on top of her sleeping bag on the edge of the cushions. She was turning her face this way and that as if someone was forcing her to look at something in her dream. Ron reached out and took her hand, his thumb stroking across her knuckles.
"Shhh. 's okay. Shhh."
She softly cried out, "Ron."
He propped himself up on one elbow and stroked her hair. "Shh. It's okay, Hermione. I'm right here."
She curled in on herself in her sleep, but gripped his hand tighter. He gave it a tug, pulling her towards him. She rolled over to him, clutching his chest and nestling in at his side. She buried her nose in the crook of his shoulder and neck and rested her knee on Ron's legs.
Ron was now completely awake. He lay stock still, every nerve ending jangling from the excitement and fear of a girl, of this girl, laying beside him. Not even beside but on top of him.
"I'm cold, Ronald."
"Oh. Yeah, right."
He flipped the end of his sleeping bag back over them and swallowed thickly as Hermione wriggled and adjusted her body to be more comfortable, which apparently consisted of being even closer to him and shifting her hips so her leg covered both of his. He needed to shift the arm she was lying on - pins and needles were already forming - but he was afraid she'd disappear if he moved.
Finally, he decided that if his arm fell off, she'd really not find him attractive, so he shifted more to his side and brought his pinned arm out from under her and cuddled her more comfortably. She moaned. Or was it a purr? At any rate, that was definitely her nose and lips next to his neck. Every molecule in his body was focused on the heat from her breath on that one square inch of his neck. He licked his bottom lip.
Fred and George had made this sound so much easier than it was turning out to be. With Lavender, she had just sort of attacked him when she wanted to snog. But this wasn't Lavender, this was Hermione. And he couldn't just attack her, she was asleep! Her thumb moved in small circles on his chest. Did girls... fondle in their sleep? He stopped breathing for several moments, focusing solely on the sensation of her hand touching him. She shifted slightly and her mouth left his neck for the briefest of moments and then returned, but he would swear it was closer. He had a flash of brilliance, for him at any rate. Maybe she’s faking being asleep... Her hand flexed and stroked on his chest again.
Heart of a lion, heart of a lion. He plucked up every bit of courage he could and turned towards her. It must be taking hours - surely it was impossible to move this slowly. His nose rested right on her forehead. Damn. She was wriggling again. Blimey, couldn't she ever get comforta- Oh. He shifted as well and could feel her warm, sweet breath on his mouth. His eyes were squeezed shut. Just barely there. He moved forward just slightly and there she was. Her mouth on his. He had his lips on Hermione Granger. She was much softer than Lavender. Better lips. She made a small gasping noise, too, maybe she learned that from Vikt-
The tip of her tongue outlined the edge of his lower lip and he stopped thinking about Lavender and Viktor Krum. He buried a hand in her thick hair and rolled her to his back, half on top of her, supporting himself on his elbows. He kissed her deeply; he heard her whimper and his ears grew hot. She had incredibly soft lips, her skin smelled wonderful, and she made quiet little noises that made his toes curl. After a moment, he came up for air and rested his forehead on hers.
Hermione gasped, "Goodness."
He preened.
"Took you long enough."
He pulled back in shock and saw her smiling.
"I couldn't very well attack you, Ronald, not after... her"
His thumb stroked her cheek and he kissed her softly. "Yeah. Sorry about that. Just, you know... You snogged Viktor and I couldn't be the only one who hadn’t-"
She grabbed him by the ears and pulled his face back down to her, kissing him fiercely. His arms snaked under her, holding her closer. She was smaller, slighter than Lavender. Smelled better, too, natural and clean, not drenched in overpowering floral scents that suffocated him. He kissed her neck, behind her ear, under her chin. He could hear tiny whimpering noises that only egged him on until he realized they were coming from him. His face flushed with heat and he paused for a moment. Her hands made warm circles on his back, encouraging him to keep at it. Hermione bent one knee, bringing their bodies closer. His arms were trembling from holding himself up. He took some of the weight off his lower half by resting on top of her.
Halfway through kissing he realized that he was on top of her. She shifted her hips and their bodies came in contact there and he realized he was on top. On top of Hermione. And she was letting him! He wondered what else she'd let him do...
He stopped all thought when her hand slipped under his shirt in the back and he felt her finger tips running up his back and down his side. He couldn't help it, he giggled.
"Oh, honestly, Ronald."
"I can't help it! That tickles."
Her eyes narrowed like a cat. "Does it now?"
She ran her fingers up his sides again and across his chest and down. Ron squirmed when her short nails ran over his belly and he flopped onto his back. "Stop, Hermione!"
She had a decidedly determined look on her face. She kept at his sides, throwing a leg over him to pin him down. He grabbed her hips to lift her off when she found a particularly ticklish spot under his rib and he convulsed upward, his hands still on her hips.
"Oh." Her face had changed from determined teasing to a look of dreamy shock. Ron lost all feeling in his body, everywhere except where Hermione was straddled. She was biting her lip and moving forward slightly. He realized he had frozen when she had gasped. He rolled his hips once more, felt how warm her body was just there, and watched her face for clues as to what to do. Her tongue darted out and moistened her bottom lip. He gripped her hips and slid her up his length, quietly exhaling with the sensation of the soft friction of her on him. She leaned forward, her hair enclosing them, and began kissing him again.
He let go of her with one hand to hold her hair out of their faces. He was trying to keep it cool, to be, well, slick about all this, but Hermione kept lightly rubbing her lips back and forth over his, and he could feel her pressed against him, and he realized he was...hard. And she might feel that. And he might have to kill himself from embarrassment, especially if she slapped him and said "eww!" as Lavender had done that one time back at school.
He lay there, stock still with fear, while Hermione kissed his neck. She started rocking her hips back and forth. She was actually pressing herself against him, as if she wanted him to keep on touching her there with his body. He let his hands move of their own accord, now. Biting his lip (fortunately she was biting his ear lobe), he slowly let one hand creep up the back of her shirt. Her skin was amazingly soft and his whole hand almost spanned the width of her. She traced the edge of his ear with her tongue and sighed, "Oh, Ron." He let his other hand slip under the elastic of her pajama bottom and cupped her backside. She stopped nibbling his ear and pressed her face to his neck. I must be mental. I don't bloody well care... He pushed her against him, grinding up into her heat. She wrapped her arms around him and gasped.
He groaned quietly and murmured into her hair, "You feel ruddy brilliant, Hermione," and mentally slapped himself. Feel brilliant? She'll think I'm some sort of mania-
She was rocking back and forth in a faster rhythm and blocked all further insults he may have heaped upon himself. He slid his other hand under her pajama bottoms and gripped her smooth, round backside and pushed her down slowly against him, drawing out the friction and sensation. It was his first time, and he'd be buggered if it went off like a shot. He remembered the advice from Chapter 10 of his book, but mostly the advice that Fred and George had given him earlier that summer.
George smoothed his hair back from his face with a lascivious grin, "You want to play it slow--"
"--they love that, girls--" Fred winked.
"--because if she's not yet--" George gave a significant look.
"--and you're about to--" Fred grinned and flicked his eyes downward briefly.
"--then you've got to think of--"
They both chimed in, "Aunt Muriel."
He felt all hot and loose limbed; Hermione was gasping and biting at his neck, his hips were rocking and grinding up into her soft heat, and he knew what was coming. Auntie Muriel's mustache. Auntie Muriel cuffing me on the back of the head. Auntie Muriel's thick ankles. Auntie Mur-- oh, sod it. He held her tightly against him and pushed up, thrusting against her silky pajamas, stroking every inch of himself against her. Hermione had stopped breathing, he thought, and squeezed him tightly with her knees and sort of stuttered her rocking over him in a tight beat. The very tip was rubbing right on her--
Her legs shot back straight and she gripped him very tightly. She exhaled slowly and then relaxed on top of him, laughing a bit.
"Hermione, did you just--"
She sighed and pushed herself up, still straddling him. "Yes, Ron. D-didn't you?"
He looked mortified. "No, I bloody well didn't! I can't with-- not in my--!" He turned beet red. She laughed and ran a finger over his forehead, brushing his hair off of his face.
"I wouldn't mind if you had, you know. That's sort of the point."
"How do you know?" he stammered.
"You're not the only one with a book, Ronald. And that's not my first time. Well, it is with someone else there."
He didn't think he could be more shocked if You-Know-Who had appeared right next to him wearing a tiara. "You mean you've... you know. By yourself?" He looked at where their bodies touched with significance.
She lay down next to him drawing circles on his chest and smiled. "Of course. Though, my wand is nothing co-"
"Your wand?"
She blushed and kissed him. He thought he might be brave enough to try Chapter 12 on her after all.
***
That night she slept soundly, wrapped in Ron's arms. Ron, however, didn't sleep a wink.