SoulBands

Soul Bands, Chapter One

By Caducee

Hermione couldn't sleep. It was her third night here and she still couldn't sleep peacefully. It had reflected in her Auror lesson especially when her eyes drooped when she was in the middle of a hands-on fighting exercise. Oh, she was very flexible and had the techniques pretty much nailed down to an art, but the falling down in the middle of a fight with Kingsley had proved to be very amusing to her fellow classmates.

So now here she was, laying awake in bed with Ron, again. It was very cold in this room in particular and Hermione hadn't really thought to bring warm night clothes, for it wasn't winter yet. But then again, sleeping with Ron wasn't so much of novelty for either of them. She often slept with him back in their flat. Ron did not snore but he could sleep through gunfire, which sometimes made Hermione laugh her head off.

Turning in his bed, she ended up laying her head on Ron's chest, listening to his heartbeat, which usually proved to be very sleep-inducing. She loved listening to him breathe. It calmed her when a rainstorm broke out in the middle of the night.

Tonight she didn't need calming down.

Swirling a finger gingerly over his very few chest hairs, Hermione smiled sleepily. Sometimes Ron would stir in his sleep or throw a sleep-heavy hand over hers to stop her teasing. In those times she would simply turn her attention to studying his great big hands and revel in the fact that they were much bigger than her petite and frail ones. However, now, Ron shivered. Was it the draught of cold air finally getting to him? Ron was never cold. In fact, he was always the first one to find the heat unbearable.

Hermione smiled, pressing her mouth to the plane of his chest and placing her ear to it again. She watched the rise and fall of his stomach and kissed him again. No reaction. Ron was a dead weight in her hands.

Hermione studied his lidded eyes, his nose, his cheekbones, his chin, his mouth. Boldly, suddenly, she placed her hands on either side of his head and leaned down, pressing her mouth to his and revelling in the smooth fullness of his lips. But suddenly she swallowed back a cry. He was kissing her back!

Opening her eyes frantically to find his eyes closed peacefully, she sighed in relief: Ron was probably dreaming of someone else.

Ron's hands roamed her backside and Hermione smiled sadly. Of course he was thinking of someone else...

She thought he deserved to get the satisfaction he so seeked. So, cupping him through his pyjama bottoms and earning herself a deep-throated moan in return, she leaned down again and caught his lips. Darting her tongue out, she ventured into the depths of his mouth and sighed. Heaven.

Hermione pulled away and straddled his lean hips decidedly. Ron's shirt pooled around her hips. She lowered herself onto him and left a wet trail of kisses on his burning skin in her wake. Her heart was hammering at ear-shattering strength in her ribcage at the danger. He could wake any second. It would be over... Hermione didn't care. It was 'now' that mattered more than anything, and that burning sensation in the pits of her intimacy could only be indication that this was right.

A flood of well-being washed over her. "This is how you make me feel, Ronal Bilius Weasley," she whispered huskily in the crook of his ear. "Like a dam about to break under the weight of thundering water. Only, it's not water my dam's holding back, it's my own countenance." She blew softly on his heated skin, making Ron shudder unconsciously. "And I'm about to break. I'm about to fall. Only," she closed her eyes, lashes thick with moisture when she opened them again, "you don't know." Hermione sighed. "Nine years... think it's enough to cause madness?" She kissed him. "I'm mad about you, Ron. In every way possible. Sometimes I'm so mad I want to hex you insane. Other times I want to fuck you senseless." She paused for effect, knowing that, had Ron been awake, he'd have gasped at her choice of words. "Merlin, Ron, how could you be so clueless yet at the same time be so flirtatious you're about as annoying as you'll ever get?"

Ron stirred. Hermione gulped. Had he heard?

Hermione might never know.

Ron paid as much attention to her as he did Auror training, which was a statement in itself, but Hermione's mind kept being trained to that night when she'd confessed.

Ron sent the occasional and completely random wink her way like he did before. Hermione couldn't count on that to tell her the secrets of his innermost feelings or thoughts toward her... or if he'd heard.

The following weeks were not much better by a stretch. Ginny now trained with Hermione during most lessons and Hermione often lost herself in the younger woman's freckles, imagining Ron's face instead of hers. Ginny would most probably be offended if she knew, but Hermione usually shook herself out of it before anyone noticed.

It was very frustrating to say the least.

So when Ron came in the bedroom they shared one afternoon and dropped on his stomach next to her as she read a book to think of something else, it annoyed the hell out of her. Ron all but grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under his chest to prop himself a little higher, and then he grinned.

When it had gone on for a couple of minutes, Hermione grew very annoyed. She pursed her lips at her book and closed it promptly, mentally marking the page to remember later. "What?" she asked rather irritably.

"Hey there," Ron greeted her happily.

Hermione sighed. "What's so captivating about me reading a book?" She paused. "What do you want?"

Ron teasingly pouted. "A little bit of love?"

Be still my little beating heart; he looks so sexy looking up at me like that. Hell, he looks gorgeous doing anything, in any position... oh, Granger, don't kill yourself right now.

Ron laughed at her face. Apparently it was funny enough to laugh at. He resumed to grinning in a matter of seconds. "Actually, I'm here because I was hoping we could talk." He sobered in an instant. "Look," he started, but was quickly cut off by Hermione.

Cheeks flushed, Hermione jumped in. "About a few nights ago? I - I didn't mean it. None of it."

Ron frowned confusedly. "What are you talking about?"

Hermione rambled on, ignoring him. "I confessed. But then it's not really confessing because none of it was true. I said all of that because I was... tired, dreadfully tired. You know how I get when I'm tired. I can say the stupidest things..."

Ron was absolutely bemused. "What on earth are you talking about?"

That stopped Hermione short. "W - w - what...?" She blushed a deep beet red. "You mean you never heard me... that night?"

Ron shifted to sit upright. "What night? What did you confess?" Concern filled his face.

Hermione could swear her heart stopped beating for five whole seconds. "Oh, umm, nothing to be worried about, actually."

Ron grabbed her hand before she could stand and bolt for the door. He pulled her back down. "Hermione... please, tell me what you said. What night are you talking about?" he asked. "I swear I won't laugh," he then added for good measure.

Hermione stared at their linked hands and suddenly wished Ron would just stop asking. It was hard already to think that she'd confessed; it was much better if he never knew what she'd said that night. She felt like a teenager as she pulled her hand free from his. Slowly and wordlessly, she sat back down, recollecting her wits about her. She had to think of something, and fast. Ron was too smart to believe simple lies. "Err, third night here."

"Oh." Ron could swear he remembered dreaming of a woman roaming his body that night. Of course, it was always the same woman. Always.

Hermione raised her eyes to meet his, and almost melted when he nervously darted his tongue out to moisture his lips.

"So, er, you said something to me while I was sleeping?"

Hermione swallowed hard. "I told you how mad you make me sometimes." This wasn't strictly a lie; her conscience could steer clear for now.

Ron smirked goofily and then burst out laughing. "Hey, that's what I'm here for." He pulled her in for a tight hug, then pushed at arm's length. "But, look, about the first night... I'm so sorry. I was being a right bastard."

Hermione smiled, although she felt her heart constrict. Appearances, appearances, she chided herself. "Molly didn't raise you as a bastard, Ron. It's perfectly legitimate." She grinned, then sighed wearily. "But it was my fault as well." She carefully lifted her hand to his cheek and felt his stubbled softly scraping her fingertips as she looked up into his slender and freckled face. "I'm not sure I'm sorry, though."

Ron shut his eyes at her touch, enjoying the feeling of Hermione's smooth fingertips on his roughened skin. "You're... you're right," he said quietly.

Hermione pulled her hand sharply back, not quite sure what to make of that. "What do you mean?"

Ron opened his eyes and stared back at her for a few beats before leaning closer until nothing but a short string of air separated them. The bed creaked, but neither of them cared to hear. Hermione felt Ron's hand tangle in her hair when his mouth suddenly connected with hers. For a moment she was scared that he would hear her heartbeat as it was like a trampede in the jungle. But Ron only pulled away enough to leave hot, wet trails of kisses on her neck, and then he looked up abruptly.

"What exactly did you say that night?" he asked cockily.

Hermione felt incredibly light-headed all of a sudden. How could she answer this but truthfully?

However, she was about to answer Ron when both of them lurched forward, pushed down brusquely by an incredible invisible force. Such force, in fact, that both of them passed out by its sheer intensity.