I hope you enjoy this one. I've been planning this for a while, trying to figure out how it would play out. Hope you like :)

Warning: Mature Content

First Time

"Maybe I should just talk to Professor McGonagall," Hermione muttered nervously to her friends. Luna was currently distracting the Headmistress down at the Quidditch Pitch. She had 'accidentally' let loose one of the bludgers and currently her, Madam Hooch and McGonagall were desperately trying to track it down before it injured anyone. So far, it had broken the window in the Astronomy tower and smashed several gargoyles. It wasn't the diversion they had planned for; Hermione especially, but it had gotten McGonagall out of her office so that Hermione could use her fireplace. Nothing with Luna was ever what you expected.

"Don't be ridiculous," Ginny told her. "Luna's probably given herself a month's worth of detentions for this, so you can't back out now."

Biting her lip, Hermione wrapped her cloak tighter around her shoulders. "If I just ask her, I'm sure she'll – "

" – let you skip school to shag your boyfriend?" Ginny interrupted bluntly. Hermione frowned. Her complete honesty and realism were something that Hermione deeply admired and appreciated about Ginny, but at times like this, it irritated her. "You might be her favourite student, but I doubt she'd let you."

"What will happen when she realises that I'm not here?"

Shrugging, Ginny stood up from her kneeling position in front of the fireplace. "I'll cover for you. The Head Girl has unfortunately come down with a case of the flu, and must stay in bed for the entire weekend."

Hermione smiled. "Thanks, Ginny. It's really good of you to do this for me."

Ginny laughed and tossed her thick, auburn hair over one shoulder. "It's not just for you. I happen to care a great deal about my brother's happiness, even if he's a bit of a git."

The plan was far from simple: Floo to Number 12, Grimmauld Place where Ron and Harry were now living, and Floo back to Hogwarts on Sunday night. It had been timed down to the very second – for Ginny and Luna needed to make sure that McGonagall was not in her office when Hermione returned. Hermione was not confident. She knew she shouldn't worry, but she was Head Girl, and there were certain rules she had to uphold. No matter how many times Ginny had reassured her that everything would be fine, Hermione was still nervous.

Parvati has slyly suggested that Hermione should wear her new lingerie and her cloak and nothing else, but Hermione had instantly shut that idea down. What if Harry was home? She would be completely horrified to be seen in front of him in naught but a cloak. The thought made her shudder in disgust and her cheeks grow hot. Instead, to save herself from embarrassment, she had donned a pair of jeans and her burgundy Weasley jumper, a pair of dark brown boots, and slung her thick, travelling cloak over her shoulders. Her hair hung free about her face; she had made an effort to tame it, and the temporary 'anti-frizz' charms that she had used smoothed her hair into thick, loose curls. Her face was free from makeup; Ron had never seemed to like her in it, but she had made an effort to shave her legs and smothered her body in coconut-and-milk oil, which left her skin feeling soft and smooth.

"Alright, are you ready to go?"

Hermione nodded.

"I'll see you at 8pm on Sunday, then," Ginny smirked.

Giving her friend a quick hug, Hermione took a handful of Floo Powder and ducked into the fireplace. "Number 12, Grimmauld Place," she cried, dropping the powder to the ground in a puff of green smoke.

She stumbled out of the fireplace, spluttering and coughing, to see Harry hunched over at the kitchen table, books and scrunched up pieces of parchment strewn over the surface. The sound of her coughing caused him to jolt in surprise, and he promptly knocked over his steaming mug of hot chocolate, spilling it all over himself.

"Shit!" he cursed, taking his burned fingers and pressing them to his lips. "Hermione?"

Brushing off the soot, she straightened up and smiled at him. "Hi, Harry!"

"What are you doing here?" he asked in astonishment, as he cleaned up the mess with a wave of his wand.

"I came to surprise Ron for his birthday," she said, blushing a little, as she unclasped her cloak and hung it up on the rack. "Is he about?"

Harry nodded and gestured upstairs. "He's just having a shower. Do you want something? Tea? Water? I think there some of Hagrid's rock cakes in the cupboard that he sent me for Christmas, if you're hungry." He smiled dryly at her and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Now that you mention it, I'm not that hungry," she grinned. "Are your fingers alright? I'm sorry I barged in like this. I should have sent word, but I wanted it to be a surprise."

Harry stood up and went to the sink, running his fingers under cold water to soothe the burn. "It's fine, honestly. It's good to see you. And, you're actually our first guest! If you don't count Mrs Weasley coming over the other night with a tray full of lasagne. It's like she thinks we can't look after ourselves!"

Shaking her head, Hermione perched herself on the table. "Well, considering how I had to cook all the meals whilst we were traipsing through the wilderness, I completely understand."

"Fair point," Harry conceded. "Though, you'd be surprised. Ron's not too bad a cook, when he gets off his lazy arse."

"Really?" Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. She had never pictured Ron being domestic in any sense. Suddenly, an image of Ron standing in front of a stove, starkers but for an apron hanging low around his waist, flashed before Hermione's eyes, and she felt her insides growing warmer. Hurriedly, she shook her head to rid of the image.

"Yeah. I know, I was surprised, myself. But I suppose, growing up with a mother like Molly, you'd pick up a thing or two."

If only he'd discovered this secret cooking ability when we needed it, Hermione grumbled to herself. It would have saved me a lot of hassle!

"So, how are you enjoying your bachelor pad?"

"It's not too bad. Except, every now and then, Sirius' mother decides to shriek, and doesn't shut up for hours. But we get used to it. What did you get Ron for his birthday?"

Hermione froze, biting her lip and blushing furiously. "Um… well, it's not really – er – that kind of present…" her voice trailed off and looked down. Harry blinked at her blankly for a few seconds, until he understood.

"Oh. Oh." He ran a hand awkwardly through his hair, his green eyes looking anywhere but at Hermione. "Well, I'll – er – leave you to it, then."

He stood up, and hastily loped upstairs, shutting the door to his bedroom – Sirius' old room. The dull sound of running water suddenly stopped and Hermione flicked her eyes upstairs. Ron had finished his shower. Heart racing, she slowly rose from her seat on the table, and headed upstairs. The room across the hallway from Harry's must have been Ron's; for it was a complete mess, and there were Chudley Cannons posters on the walls. Hermione smiled and shook her head as she went inside and sat on the edge of his bed, folding her hands together in her lap.

It wasn't long before she heard his footsteps down the hall, and his deep breathing. When he opened the door, he froze, staring at her. Hermione took his moment of surprise to drink him in. His hair was wet and stuck up at odd angles, probably from the way he shook his head after he showered. Simple, grey pyjama pants covered his long legs, and he wore a maroon, long sleeved shirt. His feet were bare. It was then Hermione realised exactly just how much she had missed him. Just the sight of him, and the smell of him – oh, how she had missed the smell of him; the spearmint flavour of his toothpaste, the fresh aroma of his lemon-scented soap – was enough to make her insides squirm with desire. She rose to her feet and gave him a shy smile.

"Happy Birthday, Ron," she said softly, her voice barely a whispered. Ron's mouth opened and closed as he struggled to find words to say, until he suddenly crossed the room in two large strides and seized Hermione up in his arms. His lips pressed hard and desperately against hers, and she moaned at the contact. She had missed this most of all. His arms encircled her waist, bringing her close to him, so their pounding hearts were right next to each other. When they pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers and stared into her eyes, his breathing erratic.

"Fuck, I've missed you," he muttered, leaning in to kiss her again. Hermione ran her hands along his broad shoulders and up the back of his neck, to twine her fingers in his hair.

"I missed you too," she replied softly.

Still with his arms around her, Ron brushed his thumb against her cheekbone, catching the stray curls that fell into her eyes and pushing them behind her ear.

"How did you manage to get out of school?" he asked her.

Hermione grinned. "With a little help from Ginny and Luna. McGonagall's under the impression that I'm bedridden with the flu."

At this, Ron's blue eyes twinkled and he smirked at her. "Well, look at you. Hermione Granger, breaking the rules. And without me or Harry involved, mind."

Chuckling, Hermione gave him a sly smile. "I've been known to break the rules before. Dumbledore's Army, remember?"

Ron kissed her nose. "Mmhmm," he growled, lowly, his voice husky. It made her shiver. His lips slid along her jaw and up to her ear, as he buried his nose in her hair. "I love your rebellious side." His fingers found the small strip of skin between her sweater and jeans, and the touch of his warm fingers sent goosebumps up the side of her torso.

His hands began to bunch her sweater up her sides as he ravaged her neck with his lips and tongue, but Hermione stopped him. Things always escalated quickly between the two of them. If she didn't do it now, she knew she would get too carried away in Ron and would forget. When he pulled away, obviously confused, she reached for her wand and cast the contraceptive charm. Ron's eyes widened in understanding as he realised what she had just done.

"Wait… you want to – now? Here?" he stuttered, his mouth suddenly becoming dry. A flush began to creep up his neck.

"Why else do you think I'm came?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I just thought – fuck, I didn't – Merlin's saggy left – " he began to curse, tripping over his words in that adorable way of his that Hermione loved.

"Ron," she urged. "You have to cast one too."

Swallowing, he nodded and cast the responsive charm, his face completely serious. She noticed that his hand was trembling a little, which made her sigh with relief. It was good to know she wasn't the only one who was nervous. Once he put his wand back on top of her chest of draws, they stood, facing each other, in complete silence. The minutes felt like hours, as neither of them moved; each waiting for the other to do something.

There was something daunting about undressing in front of each other. Hermione gulped. It wasn't as though she hadn't seen Ron naked before. But this was different. This was going to change everything. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she peeled her jeans of her legs and kicked them across the room. Keeping her eyes trained on Ron's blue ones, she slowly pulled her sweater over her head and threw it to the floor. Across the room, Ron was slowly stripping as well, biting his bottom lip. His fingers were shaking with anticipation as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. His eyes were roaming over her body, widening as he took in her red lace bra and matching knickers. Hermione couldn't help but notice the tent in his pyjamas and blushed at the thought that she was doing that to him. His mouth opened and closed rapidly, trying to form words, but his throat was dry, and all he could do was gape at her. She was so beautiful.

"Is that new?" he asked her once he had gained the ability to form speech. He'd never seen her in anything so sexy before. He was used to Hermione's plain cotton underwear, usually white or flesh-coloured. There was something about the red lace that made his blood pump faster and his body heat up. Hermione fingered the lacy strap.

"Yeah. Do you like it?" Her voice had turned meek and shy.

"They're – ahem – very nice," he replied, his voice suddenly hoarse and squeaky.

Hermione smiled radiantly. "Thanks. I'm glad."

It took several moments of staring at Hermione before Ron realised he was still in his pyjama pants. Gulping, he slid them down his long legs, his boxer shorts with them. Hermione watching him intently, taking all of him in as she unclasped her bra and pushed her knickers down her hips to the floor. They stood there for a few minutes, naked and bared to each other, their eyes roaming each other's bodies and becoming familiar.

Once again, Hermione was in awe of Ron. He was beautiful. Fair skin lightly dusted with ginger freckles, a small fuzz of orange sitting atop his impressive manhood. His body was lean and long, the planes of his chest surprisingly chiselled, his abdomen flat and hard. She felt a warmth flood her lower regions at the sight of him.

Ron drank her in with complete adoration. He could never get over how gorgeous Hermione was. Her golden brown skin, her small, teardrop shaped breasts, the slight curve of her hips, her flat stomach, the way her knees turned slightly inwards, that delightful patch of dark curls that covered her most private part. She was a goddess and once again, Ron felt as though he was entirely undeserving of her.

She was nervous. Ginny and Parvati had unloaded their first time experiences onto her back in Gryffindor Tower, but it had done nothing to reassure her. She was a virgin. So was he. She wasn't naïve enough to think this was going to be a pleasant experience. She'd heard the stories. Most girls bled the first time. But she couldn't focus on that now. How could she, when there was the amazing, strong, adorable man of her dreams standing naked in front of her, ready to be with her in the most intimate way? The look in his eyes told her that he was just as scared as she was. Swallowing her fears, she gave him a confident smile, staring deep into his eyes.

Suddenly they were in each other's arms, kissing each other passionately. Their hands roamed each other reverently, clinging desperately, as though they couldn't get close enough. Ron wound his arms around her waist and gently lowered her back onto the bed. He cupped her face. She trailed her fingertips along his shoulders. Bending to kiss her, he let one of his hands trail down between her legs, playing with her, teasing her. Her wet warmth made him ache with arousal, and he was acutely aware of his cock hardening against her inner thigh. Hermione tugged at the roots of his hair and dragged her lips across his ear.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asked, his voice strained with desire.

"I want you," she whispered, wrapping her legs around his waist.

Ron pulled back, running his thumb against her bottom lip. "I love you so fucking much," he told her, and despite his crudeness, Hermione felt her heart soar at his words, as it always did whenever he confessed his love to her.

He leant up on his elbows and looked down at where he was poised between her legs. She bucked her hips to encourage him. His eyes scared, he took his cock in one hand and nudged her entrance, familiarising himself with it. Hermione moaned softly. Biting his lip, Ron thrust himself into her.

"Ugh," Hermione gasped as he pierced her virgin walls. Tears flooded her eyes and trickled down her cheeks as the pain rippled through her. Ron instantly froze and took her face in one hand.

"Fuck," he muttered. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. Are you okay? What can I do?"

Shaking her head, she smiled weakly at him. "It's okay," she assured him, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "I knew it was going to be painful."

"Shit, we shouldn't have done this," he muttered and began to pull out of her when Hermione placed her hand on his shoulder.

"No, it's okay, Ron. Honestly. I'll get used to it." Her cheeks flushed as she said the words, but Ron was nothing but serious.

"If you want me to stop, I will," he told her, his blue eyes fierce. "I don't want to hurt you."

At this, Hermione frowned. "Ron, I want this." To emphasise her point, she reached up and kissed him full on the mouth. "I love you, and I want to experience sex with you. I want this. I want you."

Ron nodded.

"You can move," she encouraged with a sweet smile.

"Okay." Very tentatively, Ron began to slowly thrust his hips back and forth, never once taking his eyes off Hermione's face. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to find the pleasure in the pain. He was moving so slowly that she could feel every inch of him.

"Fuck, you feel so fucking amazing, 'Mione," Ron groaned as he thrust back into her.

She dug her nails into his back as he continued thrusting in and out of her. Soon enough, the pain numbed, and she bucked her hips a little, begging him to go faster. It wasn't long until him came inside her violently, groaning out her name. Spent, he collapsed onto her chest, his forehead shiny with sweat. Hermione stroked his hair gently. She was far from satisfied, but she couldn't help but smile down at him. They'd finally done it.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Ron mumbled into her cleavage. He refused to look at her, obviously embarrassed about finishing so soon.

She ran her fingers up and down his spine. "Don't, Ron," she told him. "It was nice."

"Don't lie." He sounded so defeated it almost broke Hermione's heart. "I made a mess of it."

Giggling softly, she placed her finger under his chin and lifted it so she could meet his eyes. His face and ears were flushed. "Well then, we'll just have to try again, won't we?"

He smiled a little at that, and reached up to kiss her softly. Hermione gave a little gasp – he was still inside her, and she was tender.

"Shit, I'm sorry," he mumbled, instantly rolling off of her.

"It's okay, Ron. Stop apologising."

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, his face serious.

She stroked his cheek to reassure him. "I'm just a little sore, that's all. It's normal."

Frowning, Ron rolled away from her, pulling up the sheets. His pride was wounded, she knew that much. Turning onto her side, Hermione scooted closer to him so her chest was pressed against his back and pressed a soft kiss to the back of his neck. Her arms wrapped around his torso.

"I don't regret it, Ron," she told him. "I love you.

His hands found hers and their fingers intertwined. "I love you, too," he told her. "Thank you for my birthday present."

Hermione nuzzled into him. Surprisingly, she wasn't concerned. Everything about her relationship with Ron had taken time. Why should their sexual relationship be any different? They both loved each other, and that was all that mattered. The rest would sort itself out.

A/N: I'm interested to hear your thoughts. Of course, everyone's first times are different, and I wanted to portray that it's not always perfect like we imagine it to be. But it paves the way for more enjoyable experiences in the future. I hope you enjoyed. :) xx