Ron Weasley's Virgin Suicide

Ron Weasley's Virgin Suicide

Ron stared into the small mirror next to his bed and straightened his tie for what must have been the one hundredth time. Normally, he would have been in a right state about having patrol duty after a day spent in Hogsmeade. Tonight, however, was different...very different. Tonight he had patrol duty with Hermione and she'd hinted at a "little detour" to the Room of Requirement.

The two of them had spent the whole day together in the wizard village. They had walked hand in hand through the quaint streets, shopped for sweets in Honeyduke's, where Hermione had playfully fed Ron little morsels of chocolate and ended the day at Madam Pudifoot's, sipping tea and occasionally snogging. Ron smiled to himself as he checked his tie again. He'd liked the snogging. He loved the way Hermione's lips felt . He loved the way her hand fit just right in his. And, he especially loved the fact that Hermione hadn't slugged him when he discovered he could fit almost all of her pert little backside in one palm. She'd just blushed, lightly slapped his arm and told him to behave. She was smiling the whole time, though, Ron had noted with delight.

"Usually, mate, one has his eyes open when looking in the mirror," said Harry, rousing Ron from his pleasant memories. "I thought for a moment you were going to start slow dancing by yourself," Harry continued, wearing the same smirk he'd had plastered on his face since the day Ron had returned from hospital. Ron glowered at Harry for a moment, then sat down on his bed and stared at his watch. It was fifteen minutes before eight p.m., time to head down to the common room to meet Hermione and begin patrol. Ron got to his feet, suddenly feeling very, very nervous. For the first time, the impact of what just might happen to him tonight hit him square in the face. In a few short hours, he could be in the Room of Requirement, alone with Hermione, the girl he'd loved secretly--ok, maybe not so secretly-- for five years. Although she hadn't come right out and said it, Ron couldn't help but think that the possibility existed that the both of them could end up starkers at some point...preferably at the same time and in the same place...together. This idea thrilled Ron beyond words...and scared the bloody hell out of him as well.

"Look, mate, don't be nervous," said Harry, sensing his friend's apprehension. "Just be yourself and let her...set the mood. That way, you know whatever happens is all right with her."

"It's not the mood I'm worried about," Ron replied. "This is Hermione we're talking about, Harry. You know how I am around her. What if I get so nervous that I end up jamming my finger up her nose or putting an elbow in her...her...somewhere, or something?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh at his friend's trepidation. He got up from his own bed, patted Ron on the shoulder and said, "I think the mere fact that you're so concerned for her safety will make all the difference."

"I'm serious, Harry! I want tonight to be special, y'know? I've waited for this night--for this girl--for five years! She's the only thing in my life that isn't a hand-me-down. She's....she's my best day ever, Harry. Every time I see her, even when we're fighting, she's my best day."

"Then may I suggest," Harry said, grabbing Ron by his cloak and hauling him toward the dormitory door. "That you stop spouting poetry, which was truly beautiful by the way, seriously, 'best day' and all that, and go downstairs and get her." He finished his statement by almost completely throwing Ron out of the room and onto the landing.

Ron recovered himself as best he could and made his way down the staircase and into the common room. He felt as if every person in the room were watching him, as if every deliciously wicked thought he had were being shouted out loud. He, therefore, stared pointedly at his shoes and tried very hard not to trip until he reached the bottom of the stairs and made his way to the portrait hole where Hermione waited for him. Ron noticed, with some relief, that Hermione looked almost as nervous as he felt. She did, however, manage a quick smile that caused Ron's trousers to move of their own accord.

"Ready to go?" she asked with a great deal of breath in her words.

"Yeah, sure, let's go...um...patrol," Ron replied, holding her gaze for the first time that evening.

Hermione giggled and blushed in a way that made her even more beautiful to Ron. They turned to leave through the portrait hole when Ginny's voice rang out over the normal din of the room.

"Oi, Ron! Just close your eyes and think about Quidditch!"

Hermione gasped and dashed out into the hall before the statement could register with anyone. Ron couldn't imagine how Quidditch could possibly help things. Judging by the fact, however, that every student in the common room above the fourth year was snickering or laughing outright, Ron made a mental note to have his sister's tongue ripped out by the first troll he could find.

The pair spent the next three hours roaming the castle in a leisurely fashion. They chatted at times about nothing in particular. There were long periods when they would say nothing, just walk, holding hands if no one were around. These quiet times gave Ron an opportunity to reflect on the last couple of weeks.

It had all started the night that Harry and Ginny had returned, much to Ron's surprise, from their own foray in the Room of Requirement. In all the confusion of the event, Ron had completely forgotten that Hermione was still in the room when he finally admitted to Harry that he was in love with her and had been since their second year at Hogwarts. Her response was most unexpected. She'd actually kissed him and then made some comment to Harry about needing to work out a schedule for the Room. Ron couldn't clearly recall much after that.

The next two days were torturously confusing, however. After kissing him the night before, Hermione spent the next day completely avoiding him. She ate her meals quickly and silently and dashed up to her room after classes that evening. This strange behavior continued for the next few days. Then, on the Sunday following Ron's admission of love, Hermione had actually mentioned him. The two of them had been having their first real conversation in four days and she had to mention Vicky! That was all he could take. Ron stormed out of the castle and hid in what he thought was a private spot on the edge of the lake.

Malfoy and his cronies had found him almost immediately. The little git had made a comment about "that mudblood whore" and Ron had come completely unhinged. All of his bravery had landed him in St. Mungo's and nearly cost him his life. The whole ugly incident did have one positive effect, though. Hermione had finally come out and admitted that she loved him back.

He'd gotten home from hospital two days ago, just in time for a Hogsmeade weekend. Things, it seemed, were finally going Ron's way, for a change.

By eleven-thirty that night, Ron and Hermione had patrolled just about every inch of Hogwarts castle. The students had apparently exhausted themselves in the village earlier that day. They had only met three other people the entire time they were patrolling. Though neither of them said anything, the pair found themselves wandering towards the seventh floor. By midnight, they stood silently at the tapestry that marked the location of the Room of Requirement.

"Well...here we are," Ron said simply.

"Yes. Here we are," Hermione replied.

"Well, um..." Ron said, fiddling with his wand. (The one used to cast spells!) "Shall we go in?"

"Aren't you supposed to think about what it is that you want first?" Hermione asked. After seeing the look on Ron's face she quickly added "What you want the room to be, or look like, I mean."

"Oh, yeah, right," Ron stammered, obviously embarrassed. He began to pace the hallway, eyes closed, whispering things that Hermione could not hear. After a minute or so, he looked at Hermione nervously and said "OK, I think it's ready." His statement was punctuated by the sudden appearance of a door in the wall.

With one final nervous smile exchanged between the two of them, Ron stepped to the door and opened it. He allowed Hermione to go in first and followed, closing the door behind them. Before he allowed himself the opportunity to take in the contents of the room, Ron closed his eyes and thought, "Please be ok, please be ok."

Ron's hopes for a smooth evening were given a round kick in the stomach when Hermione asked "Um, Ron...why is that in here?"

There, amidst the crackling fire and the large, comfortable bed that Ron had conjured buzzed a golden snitch. It flitted in front of their faces for a moment before flying off to try and avoid detection in the enclosed room. "Bloody Quidditch," Ron muttered to himself. "We don't need you!" he shouted. The small, winged ball hung still in the air for a moment before vanishing in a puff of needlessness.

Ron had just enough time to make a second mental note about killing his sister when Hermione tapped him lightly on the shoulder. The fact that she wasn't saying anything concerned him greatly. He slowly turned around to face Hermione and was a bit surprised to find her staring pointedly at him with a wry smile tap-dancing over her lips. "And, just how do you explain that?" she asked, jerking her thumb over her shoulder to the other side of the room.

Ron looked in the direction Hermione was pointing and felt his stomach give an uncomfortable lurch. There, standing serenely in a corner was a nine-foot tall oaken pole. Attached to this pole were two pairs of chained manacles, one set for wrists, another for ankles. A noise similar to a goldfish trying to breathe while lying on a small glass table was the only sound he was capable of making.

"Erm...sorry," Ron finally managed. "Don't know what I was thinking."

"I'd say it's rather obvious what you were thinking," Hermione replied, eyeing him with one cocked eyebrow and the smile now dancing a full Irish jig. Ron muttered something unintelligible before Hermione dissolved into a fit of giggles. "It's all right, Ron," she said. "Nothing wrong with a little enthusiasm." She took him by the hand and started to lead him toward the bed in the center of the room. "You understand, of course, I'm not going anywhere near that thing," she said seriously as they approached the bed.

The nervousness that both of them were feeling only increased as they sat down on the bed and tried to stare at one another without success. Hermione mumbled a few times before Ron finally asked, "So, erm, how do you...er, I mean, what do you, uh...see, I was thinking that...um, no, what...uh,"

His brilliant soliloquy was interrupted when Hermione grabbed him by his tie, pulled him to her, and kissed him deeply. All hesitation and uncertainty vaporized in that one kiss. The two young lovers devoured each other with animalistic urgency. Ron's mind was an explosion of blissful white light.

Ten minutes later, however, the white light had snuffed itself out as a naked Ron stormed out of the room and into the hallway. "What is the matter with you?" he angrily asked...himself, in a manner of speaking. "This is IT! This is the girl we've been waiting for! The girl we've BOTH been dreaming of! This is no time for you to go on holiday!" Ron put his hands to his face and rubbed his eyes vigorously. It was then that he heard a small, frightened squeak from nearby. He whipped his head around to the source of the noise to find a very terrified first year student in her pajamas, staring at him with eyes as wide as dinner plates.

"What are you doing up at this hour? Get back to your dorm, immediately!"

Upon hearing this, the girl squeaked again and ran as fast as she could toward the nearest staircase. Ron had more important things to worry about besides the fact that an ickle firstie had just seen all there was to see of him. He took a deep breath and calmly returned to the bed where Hermione was still patiently waiting for him.

"Are you all right?" she asked

"I'm fine," he replied shortly.

"You know, Ron, we don't have to do this tonight."

"I told you, everything is fine."

"I know what you told me," Hermione said, her temper rising. "I just think you may be...trying a bit it too hard."

"I am not trying too hard, it's just that....what are you laughing at?!"

Hermione had quickly sat up in the bed, one hand holding the blanket over her body, the other covering her mouth. Between the giggles, Ron could just make out "Oh...my...goodness!"

"What!?" he asked following Hermione's wide eyes to his nether regions. Apparently, the holiday had, indeed, been ended.

"I didn't realize that it...grew so much," she whispered. Hermione looked up at Ron with raw appreciation and a thinly-veiled fear. "Come to bed," she gulped. "But...be careful, OK?"

Ron didn't need to be told twice. He leapt straight from his spot on the floor into the bed, causing Hermione to scream. He slipped under the sheets and began to cover her sensitive skin with soft kisses.

"Leave it to you," Hermione managed between gasps and groans. "It figures you'd get excited by an argument."

The rest of the evening progressed in a manner better imagined than described. As this was the first time for both of them, there were all the usual complications but the young lovers handled all of this in stride. Ron was patient and gentle, while Hermione was grateful for his tenderness and did apologize for the scratch marks she left...and all the noise she made. Neither one of them went near the pole.

Later, after giving the appropriate password to a fat lady who glared at them knowingly, Ron and Hermione entered the Gryffindor Common Room and were greeted by a waiting Harry and Ginny.

"Well?" Harry asked, smiling. "How did it go?"

"As if I'm going to tell you," Ron retorted with a grin of his own.

"Come on, you heard all about my first time," Harry whined back

"Yeah, with my sister! That screaming you hear in the middle of the night? Horrible nightmares, mate. I can't even describe to you how wrong that is! I...am going to bed," Ron finished dramatically. He bent down, kissed Hermione tenderly, whispered, "I love you," and disappeared into the dorm room upstairs.

Hermione joined Ginny by the dying embers. She sat down and stretched contentedly, then smiled as innocently as she could before batting her eyes and asking, "What are you two looking at?"

"The cat that ate the bloody canary," was Ginny's reply.

"So are you going to give us any details?" Harry asked

"A proper lady does not kiss and tell," Hermione said with a flourish.

"Proper lady. You're joking, right?" Harry returned flatly.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and slowly reached into the folds of her robes, withdrawing her wand. She rose menacingly and pointed her wand at Harry. "Despite the fact that I am very tired, I believe I could still manage to hex some important part of your anatomy into an alternate location."

Harry threw up his hands in surrender. "Ok, ok, keep your secrets," he said with a smirk "But I'd bet a sack of Galleons that he didn't manage seven."

Hermione turned towards the stairs leading to the girls' dorm and said, "No...he got it right the first time!"

Most of the Gryffindor students were only momentarily awakened by the shriek Hermione gave out as Harry and Ginny chased her up the stairs.