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Hermione held her blanket around her and stared out her bedroom window at the storm brewing outside. She’d spent the evening watching the news with her parents after supper, as the newscasters marveled at the late-December thunderstorm that would roll through. It was quite unusual for this time of year, and Hermione had hoped for snow like she’d left up at Hogwarts that morning, but the unseasonably warm weather just outside of London meant that would not be the case this year.
She turned back to her childhood bedroom and looked around. She’d unpacked all that she’d wanted to, so she closed her trunk and pushed it into place at the foot of her bed. She debated going back down to join her parents in the living room until they retired for the night, but was unsure. Things with her parents were still tense since their return from Australia. She knew they loved her, and that once everything had been explained to them, they understood the decisions she’d made to keep them safe during the war, but she could tell they were still untrusting of magic.
Untrusting of her use of magic.
Aside from the protective enchantments they had allowed Mr. Weasley and Bill to place around the house at the Ministry’s insistence, they had made Hermione promise that no other magic would be used in or around the house. They wouldn’t even allow her to connect their fireplace to the Floo Network, and so she had to use the apparition point a block away for herself or anyone magical who would come to visit.
They’d also been reluctant when it came to her return to Hogwarts, but they knew the daughter they’d raised and understood how important it was to her that she finish her education. She had to admit, however, that the distance her return to Hogwarts had caused was slightly hindering the rebuilding of their relationship.
She’d spent as much time as she could with them between their return from Australia and her departure to Hogwarts for the start of term, and she’d promised to spend much of the holiday break at home with them, as well. They did come to an agreement that she would spend Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve at The Burrow with the Weasleys, but when she offered to have them join her, they declined.
She understood. They needed time before they could be around magic again.
They had, however, also agreed that Ron could spend as much time as she wanted here at the house with them, which made her happy. The fact that they were opening themselves to spending time with her boyfriend meant the world to her.
But that still meant that she wouldn’t see Ron until she arrived at The Burrow the following day for Christmas Eve celebrations. He had wanted to at least meet her at King’s Cross Station to greet her when her parents picked her up earlier that evening, but Pig had brought a note to her and Ginny on the train that Auror training would go late that evening, so Ron and Harry would not be on the platform.
Hermione frowned. Because at least Harry was living at The Burrow, so Ginny would see him there when the boys were finished with Auror training for the day. As much as Hermione loved her parents, she longed to be at The Burrow with Ron.
But, she’d made it three months without seeing Ron regularly. Three months and the odd Hogsmeade visit. She could make it another day.
Just as she went to crawl into bed, deciding that she would take it down for the night and read until her eyes gave out on her, there was a tap-tap-tap at the window. Hermione gasped.
Surely Ron didn’t send Pig out in this storm! She looked around the room deciding where Pig would perch for the night as she bustled to the window…
Where a pair of bright blue eyes stared back at her from under wet, windswept Weasley red hair.
“Ron?!” Hermione whisper-yelled as she opened the window. Ron was hovering beside the window on his broom, grinning at her. “What are you doing?” She whispered as she cleared her desk for him to climb in.
Ron hopped down and stood to his full height, smiling down at her. “I had to see you.”
Hermione stared up at him, tears glistening in her eyes as she took him in. “Oh, Ron,” she sighed, falling into his arms and holding him tight, despite the wetness. Ron kissed the top of her head and held her close. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Why are you whispering?” Ron asked as he took a step back and pulled out his wand. “Why don’t you cast a-”
“No,” Hermione lowered his arm. “No magic, remember? I promised them. I won’t betray them like that. Not again.”
Ron nodded and tucked his wand away. “Yeah, yeah, I get that,” he said softly. “But then…Maybe I should leave, then? My being here is a betrayal too, innit?”
Hermione bit her lip and wrung her fingers as she thought. “Well…no. They did say that you could spend as much time here during holiday break as I wanted.” She glanced up and grinned. “They didn’t specify that it had to be during the daytime.”
“Why, you little minx,” Ron shook his head on a quiet laugh. He tipped her chin up and pressed his lips to hers. “I missed you so much, Hermione,” he breathed against her lips. “I couldn’t wait. I had to see you.”
“I missed you, too.”
They kissed for another moment until a shiver ran through Ron’s body. Hermione tsk’d.
“Oh, Ron, you’re soaked. And we can’t cast any spells to warm you up.” She looked around the room. “Get those wet clothes off and set them on the radiator to dry,” she instructed in a hushed tone. “I’ll get you a couple of towels and a blanket.”
He nodded and set to work getting his robes and clothes off as Hermione stepped into her en suite for extra towels. She knew drying and warming charms would do the trick, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do magic in the house after she’d promised her parents she wouldn’t.
When she stepped out of the bathroom, the sight of her boyfriend in nothing but his underpants gave her pause.
Maybe there was merit to this no-magic thing, after all.
“These are dry, at least,” Ron said, a deep blush igniting across the skin of his face and neck. “My socks were soaked through, though.” He wiggled his long toes and shrugged. “And everything else.”
Hermione nodded and did her best to avert her eyes from where Ron covered himself with his large hands. “Here,” she handed him the towels she’d found. “You can at least dry your body and hair. Then we’ll get you warmed up. I’m afraid I don’t have any clothes that would fit you. And nothing of my dad’s would either.”
“S’okay,” Ron said as he rubbed the towel through his hair. “I’ll be fine in a blanket for now.”
“A blanket,” Hermione repeated, her eyes now skating over Ron’s chest and arms. The muscles on his forearms jumped as he dried his hair, his scars shimmering in the pale light. His chest was broader, more defined than it had been over the summer. His thighs had been thick from Quidditch training, but now there was definition to them. He looked strong. He looked amazing.
Something inside Hermione roared with heat.
“Hermione?”
“Hmm?” She brought her eyes back up to his, and he smirked.
“I asked about the blanket?”
Hermione blinked. “Right. A blanket. Umm…” She glanced at her bed, where the blanket she’d been using lay abandoned, as well as her upturned duvet. “Maybe it’ll be warmer if we just crawl into bed.”
Ron took several steps toward her. “You going to keep me warm, Mione?”
She blushed and looked up at him through her lashes. “If that’s what you want.”
He nodded and walked backwards toward the bed, tugging her with him. They climbed in together and burrowed under the duvet, resting against the pillows and facing one another. Hermione traced Ron’s visible shoulder with her finger and hummed.
“Training is going well, then?”
“Very,” Ron nodded. “Remember those exams I wrote to you about from earlier this week?” Hermione nodded. “Passed with flying colors,” he grinned. “Harry, too. According to Robards we’re top of the class, Harry and me. And Neville is right behind.”
“That’s wonderful, Ron,” Hermione gushed. “I’m so proud of you. All three of you, but especially you.”
“How did your term finish? Did you go to Sluggy’s holiday party this year?”
Hermione nodded as Ron’s arm wrapped around her waist and tugged her closer. “Ginny and I went together,” she whispered. “We thought about requesting outside guests, and had the feeling Professor Slughorn would have allowed it, if one of the guests was Harry Potter,” Ron rolled his eyes with a smile at that, “but we also knew how busy you boys were and that we would see you soon, so we just enjoyed a girl’s night out. Luna was our third. It was fun.”
“I wish I could have seen you all dolled up,” Ron whispered.
“Oh, you will. I’m wearing the dress I wore again tomorrow,” she said. “No need letting that adorable dress go to waste without my handsome boyfriend seeing it.”
“Handsome, huh?” Ron tickled her side, and she giggled, then clamped a hand over her mouth as footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs.
They were silent for a moment, listening. One set of footsteps continued—her dad, she could tell—but the lighter steps paused outside her door. A soft knock followed.
“Hermione?”
Hermione took a breath and tried to relax her nerves. “Yes, Mum?”
“Going to sleep for the night?”
“Yes,” Hermione called. “I’m exhausted from all that travel today.”
“Alright,” her mum answered. “We’ll see you in the morning, then. Good night, Love.”
“Night, Mum. Love you.”
They listened to her mum’s footsteps head up the stairs to the top floor, where her parents' suite was, and both exhaled when they heard a door upstairs shut.
“Blimey,” Ron breathed out. “I thought for sure she would walk in and find me.”
Hermione rested her forehead against his chest. “I almost thought she would.”
“What would she have done, do you think? If she had opened the door and found me in your bed?” Ron looked under the covers. “Almost naked.”
“I’m not sure,” Hermione lifted her head to look at him. “They’re not overly strict or anything; they’ve always allowed me a certain sense of freedom. I’m sure they know that, as I’m of age and have a boyfriend, we might be, um… getting up to certain things. Not sure they would be thrilled about the possibility of it happening in their house, but I’m not in a rush to tell them.”
Ron chuckled. “Getting up to things, huh?” He pulled her even closer, and her leg hooked over his hip. His hand ran up and down her bare thigh, now, her nightgown having ridden up a bit at the change in position. “What sort of things did you have in mind?”
Hermione leaned in and grinned. “Well, I was hoping that we might get up to a bit of snogging,” she answered. “I have missed you very much, and I have to admit you are looking rather fit tonight.”
“Hmmm,” Ron ran his long nose across her hairline lightly. “Just snogging?”
“Maybe more? We can see where the night takes us.” With that, she lifted her face to his and kissed him softly.