Everything That You Are...

November 27th 2007

(This will be the last wedding chapter - I hope you enjoyed them!

Also this is a little bit more 'mature'. It's nothing too graphic, but in case that's not your thing, you don't have to read it!)

(don't start the music yet)

"Honestly mate it's fine, you two go home. We'll tidy up. Don't worry about it." George reassured Ron, patting him on the pack. Ron gave a grateful yet relieved smile before walking back over to Hermione, who was standing by Mrs Weasley and a sleeping Rose.

"George said they'll handle it."
Hermione smiled. She and Ron both kissed Rose and Mrs Weasley, before holding hands and apparating back to their little crooked house.

They hurried through the front door, not wanting to stand outside in the biting cold. They had spent the whole night in toasty marquee, which had been bewitched to stay warm, but the night outside was brutally autumnal. The moment they shut the door behind them, Ron crashed his lips onto Hermione's. But she pulled her head back.

"No Ron."

He looked at her, puzzled and disappointed. It was their wedding night. They had the house to themselves. Surely it would happen. It wasn't like it was their first time or anything. They had a child.

Hermione raised her hands to touch Ron's face. Then she pulled herself upwards towards his ear and whispered softly. Ron smirked.

In every room.

Those were her words.

"Hermione this is a family home," he mocked, "you're a mother!"

(music!!)

"And a wife" she smirked. Then she turned around, flicking her hair up so that her back was now uncovered. Ron traced his finger from the top of her neck down to the top of her dress. His lips followed the same trail that his finger had. He fumbled slightly, his large fingers struggling to grasp the small, delicate zip on Hermione's wedding dress. When he finally grabbed hold of it, he gently tugged, and watched as the zip ran down and the silky satin fell away from her body. He drew a breath of awe.

Hermione stepped forward out of her dress, away from Ron. She heard him tugging at his own tie, his fingers trembling as he unbuttoned his shirt. She stayed facing away from him, unpinning her hair. Ron watched as each of her curls fell down to her back. He had finally undone all the buttons on his shirt, his muscular chest bare. Hermione sensed it too, for she turned round. Their eyes met for just a second, before she threw herself at him. Her arms latched onto each other behind his head, her legs wrapped around his middle. Rapidly, she pulled of his shirt, revealing his strong arms underneath. She kissed him hard. And he kissed her back harder. Their lips locked in a battle of passion.

Hermione ran her hands through Ron's fiery hair as he backed her up against a wall. She shivered as his lips traced her neck and collarbone. She grabbed fistfuls of his thick hair, trying her hardest to not make her excitement audible. As she tried to regain composure, the breath was whisked out of her again. Ron spun her away from the wall, her legs still firmly wrapped around him, and laid her down on the sofa. As her back hit the rough fabric, Ron stood up. He loosened his belt, before pulling it away entirely. She looked at him with lust and fire. Ron was everything she wanted. She bit her lip as she watched Ron remove the rest of his clothing and clamber back on top of her. Skin to skin. Between them was nothing except a dual heat of passion and fire. Love and excitement and lust. Lips to lips. Lips to neck. Lips to chest. Lips to stomach. Kisses up and down each limb. From the tips of their fingers to the tops her thighs.

More heat. More fire. More passion. More lust. Closer and closer, hotter and hotter. Hard kisses and strong holds. And then it was done. In the living room it was done.

In every room. They definitely were not done. Hermione took her first opportunity to get up and she ran, teasing Ron, into the kitchen. Newspapers flew and tea cups shattered to the floor as Hermione swang her arm across the dining table. Then she climbed atop the table, spreading her arms above her head. As Ron made an attempt at her, she rolled aside, so that he landed with a steady thud on the table where she just been. Then, from beside her husband, Hermione swung her leg over and climbed on top of him. Her legs were either side of his torso, so that she was kneeling over him. She craned her back and ran a trail of kisses from his pelvis, up his toned stomach, across his chest, and to his neck and jaw, before simultaneously slamming her lips and the rest of her body down hard on him. Ron let out a groan. And then everything happened again. The intensifying kisses, the heated passion. And then the kitchen was done.

Ron scooped Hermione up from the table, kissing her all the way up her arm as he whisked her up the stairs. When they reached the bathroom, Ron put Hermione down and stopped kissing her. Then he bolted out the room. She stood, weakened yet still full of fire, as she heard Ron run down and then back up the stairs. He threw her lingerie at her. She looked at him, puzzled.

"It's more fun when you have to work through the layers" he teased, pulling on his own underwear and a T-shirt. Hermione slipped on the lacey bra and panties and silky undergarments she had had on. As she pulled her arms and head through, she was greeted by Ron's lips again. He pushed her into the open shower.

"Thought about it, we've never done it here before." Ron moaned, as Hermione sunk her lips into his neck. He staggered backwards as she kissed him harder. And suddenly they were being rained upon with water by their temperamental shower: first unbearably hot, then refreshingly cold. But they never drew apart. Hermione's bouncy curls became drenched and limp. Ron's hair became plastered to his face.

The water poured over them, drenching their clothes, but never their souls. Well and truly intertwined and obsessed with the other, Ron and Hermione exited the shower, not even stopping to turn it off. They came out and began to relieve each other of their soggy garments. Layer after layer came, until there was a sodden pile of clothes in a puddle in the floor, and a bare, passionate pair in the middle of the dimly lit room. The bathroom was done.

As they raced to the bedroom, Ron thought about how he'd never imagined doing it in the bathroom. Not that he cared. It was just very unconventional and different for them. Hermione threw open the bedroom door. She wrapped her hands around his face and pulled him onto her. As they crashed onto the soft mattress, they stopped. Hermione rolled out from underneath Ron. Then got out of the bed and went over to the corner. Ron watched, pondering.

Hermione clicked open a record player.

"I forgot we had that" Ron remarked, still slightly breathless. Hermione ran her fingers through their small collection of vinyls until she pulled one and placed it on the player. There was a scratching sound before the music began to play. Soft and delicate. Charming. And then Hermione got back into bed, running her hands over Ron's arms. And then it happened again. In the bedroom. But this time was different. In the other rooms, it had been fast and heated and passionate. This was soft and paced and almost more real. This was the real love. This was the most special. Everything else had been for their giddy inner teenagers, fulfilling old fantasies. This was for their remarkable adult selves, making memories they weren't ashamed of. This wasn't fulfilling racy dreams of their previous hormonal selves. This was sharing their love with each other. Laying it all down. Slow and appreciated. In those moments, they saw everything of each other; not just physically.

Hermione pulled out of one last kiss, before placing her head onto Ron's chest. He kissed the top of her head. And then they fell asleep. Fulfilled. In love. Happy.