No Room at the Inn (this always happens) dedicated to Sister Seraph “I’m sorry, we’re all full. We only have one room left.” The concierge at the Hogsmead Inn looked firm. Hermione was distressed. Ron had been trying to convince the tired clerk that he was mistaken for the last five minutes. “Look,” she tried to come between the two as they stared daggers at each other.”You take the room, Ron. I can appearate to my place and then come back in the morning.” Ron turned to her and his hard look had softened. Still, there was a tinge of sadness. Hermione had forgotten about the fact that Ron didn’t have his appearating license yet. He stared at her a moment, a cross between bewilderment and exasperation on his face. “No, Hermione, you take the room. I-I’ll, well, I’ll find someplace...” “Why don’t you share the room?” the clerk interjected. Ron and Hermione both snapped their heads in his direction, staring at him as if he had just sprouted horns and started mewling! The clerk shifted his weight uncomfortably, “I mean, you could sleep on the floor and let the lady have the bed. I mean-“ Hermione tried to settle the awkward moment, “Well, er, he’s right, Ron. If you’re bent on my having the room, I can’t very well have you sitting up in the Three Broomsticks all night...” “Well, er...” Ron tried to hide his blush, “I suppose if it’s all right with you...” “Thank you.” Hermione flashed a small smile to the clerk, “We’ll take the room.” The concierge gave Hermione the key, and Ron followed quietly behind her as he lead him to the stairs and up to room 209, the bridal sweet. Hermione tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as she fit the key into the lock and opened the door. The room lit up as she stepped inside. She heard Ron enter behind her and shut the door behind him, but she dared not turn around and look at him; she was far too nervous. “Look, um...” Ron stammered, “you take the bathroom-er-first, I’ll wait. I’ll make a bed for myself,” he kept a running narration as he walked to a small closet by the bathroom, “There’s usually extra pillows and blankets and such in here...and, look, there’s a radio! We can listen to music until we fall asleep...it, er, won’t be so bad. The floor looks quite comfortable...” Hermione sighed. Ron’s nervousness seemed to quell her own. She knew the longer she stood around the longer he would ramble on, so she went to the bathroom calling jovially, “I’ll be yours in a minute-“ Oh, Merlin! “It’ll be yours in a minute-the bathroom!” She shut the door and fell hard against the wall. Talk about letting it slip! She hoped Ron had not caught it. Hermione emptied the contents of her pockets onto the bathroom counter. She tried to concentrate on them instead of on who was in the next room. Wand, toothbrush and tooth-powder, floss, mouth wash, face-wash, razorblade, some more floss...Ron Weasley...No! This wasn’t working! She had to do something to break the cycle of thought. Her brown eyes turned to the shower. Sure! I’ll take a shower, that’ll clear my head. Hermione drew back the shower-curtain to find a large fit-for-two bathtub behind it. Her heart began beating between her legs as she has a sudden wild thought of soaping up and Ron walking in on her, joining her shower. Ron, wet red hair in limp clumps around his chiseled face, beads of water dripping down his naked body, his skin the color of milk, steam rising between them, Ron’s long, knobby hands on her wet skin, her breasts, her thighs...Urgh! Hermione almost screamed out loud as she practically ripped her clothes off and carried her toothbrush, tooth powder and razorblade into the shower with her, determined to forget about Ron for at least thirty minutes. Ron was punching a rather flat pillow, trying to put some shape into it (and trying to forget Hermione was in the next room-had she said “It’ll” or “I’ll”- it drove him nuts!), when he heard the shower running. His heart skipped a beat. What was she? Crazy? Of course she was! What had he been thinking? This was Hermione after all...Did she have to share a room with him? Now she was really asking for it...taking a shower...tonight of all nights...was she looking to get raped? Ron had been in an aggressive and testosterone-driven mood ever since this afternoon when he had to come back early from practice. Kalvin had sent him an urgent owl that morning reminding him about the tutorial match they were to perform for underground dueling hopefuls. It wasn’t a full duel, which was that much worse. It had left Ron craving to release all the animalistic energy he tried so hard to keep at bay. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of Hermione all evening. Now, with the bridal suite and the shower to fuel his thoughts, Ron couldn’t ignore his needs no matter how hard he tried. If it had been any other girl besides Hermione, he might have been able to fight it off. Any other girl would merely put out the fire burning inside him. Hermione, on the other hand, would fuel the flames, enticing them into a bewitching dance and reignite embers that hadn’t burned within him in years, and when that blazing inferno had finally burned down, his insatiable hunger wouldn’t merely be pacified, but fulfilled. Ron’s cup would runneth over. This could not happen, though. He’d rather hurl himself out the window than take Hermione and ravish her when she didn’t want to be. Damn. They weren’t even dating. He hadn’t the nerve to ask her before. Ron cursed himself as he punched the pillow harder. If only she was his, he could have her tonight. Tonight when he needed her so desperately. He made a nest with the blankets he found in the closet. All the while trying to block out the sound of the shower. Hermione’s shower hadn’t done her as much good as she’d hoped. She couldn’t keep her mind off of Ron, so she tried to steer her thoughts in a different path from that of hot, wet shower sex. This left her with the most pressing questions about her friend as of late. Where was he getting all of his excess money that he seemed to have so much of recently, and where had he been earlier this day that he couldn’t tell she or Harry? When he had returned from wherever he had been, he had looked tired and a bit frustrated despite his efforts to appear otherwise. Hermione had noticed how Ron favored his right leg as he stood or walked today as well. Had he met with some accident or been in a fight? Oh, if he had, why didn’t he say? She began to floss and concentrating on that seemed to ease her tension. Whatever Ron was up to earlier today had to have something to do with all of his extra money. Hermione rinsed with the mouthwash and resolved not to think about any of it any longer. If Ron was in any trouble he would tell her and Harry about whatever it was, he would. He couldn’t keep anything from them unless he was forced to...Forced? Maybe Ron was in trouble somehow! “Okay...stop it...” Hermione whispered to herself, “You’re getting carried away with yourself...”She washed her face and transfigured her robes into a nightshirt and got dressed. Her hair was still wet as she walked out of the bathroom. “It’s all yours.” She remarked casually, rubbing the towel over her wet tresses. Ron tried not to stare at her, she was so beautiful. He could smell the humid air from the bathroom. It smelled like her. Ron stood and walked over to stand before her. He didn’t quite know why he came so close to her...it was magnetic, something pulling him towards her. He wanted to say something, express a bit of the emotion he had been bottling up inside. “Hermione...” he said, his voice low in his throat. She looked at him, her nut-brown eyes searching for some clue as to what words were on the tip of his tongue. “Do you, erm...” he began uneasily, “do you mind if I use your toothbrush? Mine’s back home...” “Ron Weasley!” Hermione frowned, thrusting her hands at her sides, “I can’t believe you forgot your toothbrush! Do you realize that sugars and starches begin festering in your mouth to create cavities only twenty minutes after you’ve eaten them?” Ron lowered his eyes miserably. “Honestly,” Hermione continued, “a grown man like you,” Oh, God, what a grown man...tall, sinewy, sexy... “Yeah, use it.” “Thanks.” Great. I need a favor and she bites my head off. That little vixen gets my goat sometimes too often. He went into the bathroom and shut the door. Shower: Hermione had the right idea. She’s so damned infuriating. What she needs is a good fuck-and a hard spanking. I really can’t wait to throw her down and have her panting beneath me-screaming my name-screaming for more and then begging me to stop. Then we’ll see who’s boss, snapping at me like that... Ron began to run the shower water and brush his teeth. Oh, Merlin, that was petty of me. I mean, everybody forgets these things...and Ron didn’t have dentists for parents. I’ll apologize as soon as he gets out...oh, damn, he’s getting in the shower... Hermione crossed to the radio and turned it on. “Those lips that kiss and leave me burning, “The flames of love, the love that keeps returning, “Your arms and eyes and lips such strong desire, “The love of ice and fire-“ Hermione switched the station. There had to be something on besides K.A.O.S. and their punk-rock love songs. Finally finding a frequency that played a soothing string quartet, Hermione crossed to her bed and lay beneath the covers. The quicker she went to sleep, the quicker this night would be over. Ron stepped out of the shower and cast a drying charm on himself. Following Hermione’s example he transfigured his robe into a pair of pajama pants. They were still the same color as his robes, but they were functional. He opened the door and walked out of the bathroom. Hermione was in bed with the radio on. He turned out the light. Ron didn’t move. Finally, he spoke and his voice sounded strange and far away. “‘Mione?” he called tentatively into the darkness. Hermione took a second to answer, could she get away with pretending to be asleep? “Yes?” she replied at last. “Er, I was just wondering if you were asleep yet?” Ron queried. “No.” she answered softly, “No, I’m not.” There was a small silence between them, then Hermione spoke again, “Ron...I’m sorry...for snapping at you earlier.” Ron smiled to himself, thankful that she couldn’t see him. “S’alright.” He stepped into his bedding, the music from the radio the only sound in the room. Lying on his back, he seemed to come to a resolution. “Hermione?” he called into the darkness. “Yes?” he heard her answer eagerly. She was wide awake. Hermione thought to herself that somehow it seemed wrong, Ron lying alone on the floor. “I-” Ron began, unsure of how he wanted to word this, “You’re really smart...I know you must have figured out- I mean, I know you’ve figured out how-how I feel about you. I’m in love with you, Hermione. I don’t think I’ll ever find another girl like you. I -I guess I just had to tell you I’d like to- I mean, maybe you and I could start, you know...doing things together. I mean, not just as friends. I mean, if you wanted to...” God this sounds so stupid. Just shut up before she throws you out. “Ron?” Hermione’s light voice pierced the music filled air like a sock in the stomach, taking Ron by surprise, What was she going to say? Would she ask him to leave? “Ron, why don’t you come to bed?” Ron shifted his eyes from side to side. He was in bed. Maybe she couldn’t see him lying there in the dark. “I am in bed...” he protested, hoping she’d say something more reassuring. As it stood, things didn’t look too promising. “The floor’s hardly the place for you.” Hermione replied, stifling a giggle. “Come to bed with me.” Relief swept over Ron like a breeze in a sweltering heat. He laughed, sitting up off of the floor. “As much as I’d like to take you up on that offer, I don’t think that would be the best way to start this out. That is, if you mean to say you like me too, I mean, Hermione, I’m not to be taken lightly. If I get into that bed with you I’m not responsible for my actions...” Hermione smiled, she knew exactly how to take Ron. Sometimes she let her mind wander uncontrollably and she got to worrying about his feelings for her, but as he talked, she realized in that moment that she had known all along. She had always known him and come what may, she knew now what would become of them. “Are you going to come to bed with me or am I going down there?” Hermione chided. “Hermione, really...I’m not joking...” Ron warned. Hermione kicked off the covers. She was no shy violet. She wouldn’t have finished top in her year had she been. She knew what Ron had meant. She had wanted him to mean it for four years. She stood and lifted her nightshirt over her head. Then she tossed it to Ron. The chamber music filtered through the silence between them. “Ron, I think I’ve lost something...” she giggled as she lay back down on the bed. “Besides your mind?” Ron whispered, his voice hard with need. Hermione could tell by his voice that he was standing and walking towards her. “No, I believe it was my nightshirt...” “Hermione Granger...” Ron whispered throatily, “If you had any idea what you do to me...” She felt his large hand on her velvety stomach, his knee came to rest on the edge of the bed next to her. “If it’s anything like what you do to me.” Hermione smiled. Ron was leaning over her now, she could see his face covered in shadow. He looked strong, powerful, almost foreboding. “You have no idea what I’ll do to you, “ He growled just before he kissed her. She could feel his want, his need for her in the kiss. It was overwhelming. She felt his hand on her stomach slipping and with the width of his hand he parted her legs. His head pulled back, locking eyes with Hermione in the dark as his fingers slid over her tenderly. “You’re mine, now.” he hushed, his tone dangerous. Hermione arched her back, unable to control herself under Ron’s touch. “Ron...” she moaned, unsure wether she was wanting to stop him or urge him further. She was his, but then she had always been. And now, in this moment, she knew that she always would be.
