A/N: Howdy. Couple of things you may want to be aware of –

This fic follows on from the events mentioned in the fourth chapter of one of my other stories, Nineteen Days Later. You don't have to read it to understand this but I 'spose I couldn't hurt if you did.

Some of my fics are now available in Spanish, courtesy of the wonderful ColorOfLove. Reading your own words in a language you don't understand is a very strange but fun experience. Link: www-thegreaterbliss-wordpress-com

I now tumble: www-halfaslug-tumblr-com

I can't promise greatness but hey, it could be fun.

And to make up for all the shameless self-promotion you've just read, here's a fic rec for you all – Birthdays, Gifts, and Domestic Bliss by wazlib88. Ron and Hermione fluff at its fluffiest. Go and fluffing read it.

And finally, apparently there are people left in the world not reading Australia by MsBinns. If you are one of them, I beg you not to read the rubbish on the rest of this page and go and read that instead.

Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter but she would give it all up for a ton of cash, an amusing clock and a sack of French porn.

"We can't just stay here all day."

"Why not?"

"We have things to do!" Hermione pointed out to Ron, giving him a bossy frown. "You haven't even finished packing yet!"

Frustratingly, Ron didn't seem to think he would need anything for however long they were going to be in Australia for and shrugged. "That'll take five minutes, tops."

"Well, we don't have a spare five minutes anymore thanks to this."

Hermione raised her eyebrows meaningfully and felt herself blush hopelessly again. It felt like her cheeks had been pink for so long now that they had decided that they would remain that colour for ever more. She had her eyes trained on Ron's face because looking anywhere else would just make it worse so she saw a look of confusion flit across his features.

"By this," he said slowly, "do you mean this argument or us having sex?"

"Us- us having sex," Hermione mumbled, unable to meet his eyes. The memory of it was still so fresh but it still didn't seem like she had actually gone through with it. They were still lying in her bed, steadily coming to the realisation that they had actually just had sex. At the same time. With each other.

Together.

Now, with the air still smelling like them, something she never considered would happen, and the haze of the post-coital cuddling clearing, they were left with a very awkward situation. So, naturally, they had started arguing about it.

When it took Ron a bit too long to reply, Hermione lifted her gaze to see him looking at her with a serious expression.

"Wait," he said turning on his side, looking as though he was trying to keep hurt from showing on his face, "do you regret this?"

"O-of course not," she said automatically.

"Hermione."

"I don't regret it."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "But…"

"It was a bit… soon," she relented, immediately wishing that she hadn't. The brilliant look in Ron's eyes that had been there since they had… done it… faded and she was left with the slightly darkened look that he had adopted for the past week. She had been doing everything she could to cheer him up like, not crying in front of him, doing most of the organising of their trip herself and such and this conversation threatened to ruin all of that.

"Soon?" he repeated, sounding a little too close to heartbroken for Hermione's liking.

"We've been together a week," she told him, watching her fingers play with the edge of her duvet. "I can count our kisses on one hand-"

"No, you can't."

Hermione's head snapped up at Ron's interruption. "What?"

"Today we had our sixth kiss," he said angrily. "You have four fingers and a thumb on each hand. It's basic maths, Hermione."

Even though he was scowling at her and waiting for her to come back with a biting retort, Hermione felt her heart melt. This was one of those moments that she had thought that only girly girls had in their frivolous lives full of fanciful invention. It was not for her and her world of logic, facts and figures.

"You've been keeping count?" she asked breathlessly.

Ron shrugged. "Yeah."

As much as she hated to admit it, if she hadn't been lying down, Hermione Granger would have just swooned and no one could ever know that.

"You've been keeping count," she repeated, a small smile growing on her face as Ron's ears turned red.

"Well, I've lost count now," he mumbled, clearly embarrassed to have impressed her using something as un-manly as romance, especially as he hadn't been trying to.

"Why?"

"It's hard to count how many times we've kissed once you got your boobs out," he smirked and Hermione gave him a sharp poke, being careful to keep herself covered.

"Just get up."

"You're not going to win that easily."

Hermione sighed. The only way they were ever going to get out of that bed was if she took charge of the situation.

"Ron, your t-shirt is right there!" she said matter-of-factly, pointing to the green t-shirt at the end of her bed. "My clothes are on the other side of the room. It makes more sense if you get out first-"

"My t-shirt may be there but my boxers are on the other side of the bed to my jeans," Ron complained. Hermione glared at him before having a look around and seeing that his clothes were indeed more spread out than hers. How they had managed to pretty much cover her room in clothing was beyond her.

They continued trying to convince the other to get up first using gradually more desperate tactics. Ron, being the great strategist that he was, worked out an easy route for Hermione to take to gather up her clothes but she refused on the basis that, at one point in his grand plan, she had to jump over the bed for some reason.

"You started this!" Ron eventually exclaimed after Hermione had said that it was his fault that they were in this predicament.

"What?"

"You were the one that started undressing me first!"

"But you kissed me!"

Ron laughed. "And that made you take my clothes off against your will, did it?"

The answer to that question was, of course, yes but nothing on Earth was going to make her admit it.

"This is ridiculous," she snapped. "Just get dressed so we can finish tidying up and get back to your house."

"You get dressed first!"

She gave him her fiercest look and tried to remember that this moment was one of the biggest and most special of her life and she was likely to remember it forever.

"I am not getting out of this bed," Hermione growled.

"Why?"

"Because, Ron," she said, "I am naked!"

The room was filled with her furious breaths for a couple of seconds while they both absorbed the information they both already knew but hadn't really accepted until then. The whole thing just seemed so unreal… Even though she could remember how she had come to be naked in vivid detail, it felt almost as if she had just woken up in her bedroom, sans clothes, next to Ron Weasley.

While you could argue that it was a dream come true, the reality didn't have the advantage of being able to fade into black. In reality, they had to deal with the aftermath and be able to look at each other in the face after witnessing the other one make strange noises and funny faces.

Hermione turned to see Ron looking thoughtful. "That sounds like an argument for you getting out of this bed."

Even though she was pleased by the compliment, he visibly flinched under the look he gave her.

"I'm naked too!" he spluttered defensively.

"Yes, but you're a man," Hermione pointed out pragmatically. "You don't have a problem with running around with your bits out."

Ron burst out laughing. "What exactly do you think went on inside the boy's dormitory at Hogwarts?"

"Just get dressed!"

"Not until you do." Ron licked his lips nervously but she could see that he was trying not to smile. "It's not like I haven't seen it already."

"That isn't the point!" she huffed, blushing once more. "You can cover yourself up with one hand and get dressed with the other!"

"What do you mean 'one hand'?"

Confused, Hermione tried to work out why Ron suddenly looked so offended when she realised what he was referring to. For a moment, she was tempted to scold him for being so crude. Instead, she reached out and laced her fingers through his on top of the covers.

"Well," she said coyly, biting her lip, "you have big hands."

Even though he tried to brush the comment off as no big deal, Ron smirked a little, clearly pleased with himself.

"Thanks."

They smiled shyly at each other before Ron leaned over to kiss her. It started out as a peck but soon her fingers were raking through his hair and he shuffled over the bed towards her, his hands searching for her.

"Ron," she squealed when they found her, "your hands are freezing!"

"More reason for you to hurry up and get out of bed first," he remarked cheekily.

Ron continued trying to put his hands on her but Hermione fought him off and edged away towards her side of the bed. Occasionally she'd managed to hold his wrists but he was much stronger and could break her grip. Much to Hermione's frustration, he was laughing the whole time. Although, now she thought about, she never thought they'd be a time where she'd be fighting to stop Ron from touching her.

"This is going to be so much easier in my bed," he chuckled, while she flailed under his touch. "You aren't going to have half the space-"

"What?"

"Well, I've only got a single bed so-" Ron's face dropped and he ceased his tickling. "Oh no."

"What?" Hermione repeated.

Ron gulped. "You're thinking."

"How do you know that?" she asked incredulously.

"Well, you're always thinking," he admitted, looking a bit scared, "but now you're biting your lip so that can only mean bad news."

"It's just…" Hermione released her lip but she knew what she was about to say wasn't going to go down at all well. "I don't think we should do this again for a while."

Ron was still leaning over her but when she had finished speaking his shoulders sagged and he waited for her to announce that she was joking but instead she just looked at him apologetically.

"Wow," he breathed, throwing himself down, onto his back. "That is bad news."

She hadn't meant it to come out that way and she hastened to explain before the relationship that they had worked so hard to start wouldn't fall apart after them taking such a big step together.

"Ron, listen-"

"Was I really that bad?" he asked dejectedly.

"No-"

Hermione went to put a placating hand on his arm but he shrugged it away.

"I've never done this before, all right? It's a bit over whelming."

"Ron, listen to me," she pleaded. Ron gulped and looked as though he'd been told he wasn't allowed to keep the puppy he had just found in the garden. "It hasn't got anything to do with your… performance," she said delicately.

Ron raised his eyebrows sceptically.

"It hasn't!" Hermione insisted as she moved to put her arm around him. "It's just- I think we rushed into this. I don't want our relationship to be based on this."

"What?" Ron said. He no longer seemed hurt but annoyed. "The nearly seven years of being friends doesn't count for anything?"

"Of course it does. But this is different," she implored. "I don't want to stop being friends."

Again, Ron took this completely the wrong way. The anger melted away into abject horror and Hermione heard his breath catch in his throat. "You don't want us to be together?"

"No!" Hermione gave up on words as they always seemed to end up being said in the wrong order or tone of voice and ruining everything. She leant up and kissed Ron hard on the mouth and waited until she felt his body relax before she continued. "I want us to be together very much but I don't want it to affect our friendship. Even though we've known each other for a long time, if we rush this, it could fall apart and I don't want that. I really don't want that."

Finally, her point seemed to have reached Ron without him misinterpreting it. For a moment, he looked past her, out of her bedroom window, and absorbed the problem that she was genuinely scared of.

It wasn't anything to with Ron or how much she loved him – both of those parts she was certain about – but in the week they had been together, they hadn't really been together. Between the funerals, grieving and adjusting to being surrounded by people they hadn't seen in months, they hadn't had much time to work on the fragile connection they had made real in the early hours of the battle.

In fact, they hadn't talked about their relationship at all apart from telling each other that they wanted it to happen. Hermione had always thought that something as big as sex, would have to be planned and thought out. She would have to decide if she were ready, if Ron was ready and make various preparations, discuss the whole thing at length before they actually went through with it.

Instead, it had just – happened.

It wasn't something that she was used to but was happening increasingly often to her.

"So even though we've wanted this for years," Ron sighed, "we have to pretend we don't?"

"I just think we should at least get used to snogging each other before we do anything more."

"It's a bit late for that," Ron commented, glancing down at their bodies, still covered by the duvet.

"Well, this was a one off."

Sensing he needed some reassurance, Hermione snuggled closer to him. Still unused to the skin on skin contact, she revelled in it. The feel of his slightly sticky stomach and the coarse hairs there that felt so different to the soft ones tickling her legs… it was him. All of him and he was here, with her.

His arm snaked around her shoulders and he looked down at her, his expression vulnerable and Hermione was tempted to kiss him again.

"So I wasn't really shit?"

"Is that all you care about?" she asked with a roll of her eyes.

"No," he mumbled. "It'd just be nice to hear otherwise."

There was a long pause while Hermione tried to recall her commenting on what had happened that afternoon. Ron had spent ages saying things like "brilliant" and "incredible" while swearing, all while half-sleep. He had asked how she was, made sure she had enough of the cover and even apologised for crushing her after they had finished. She hadn't really had chance to think about it, let alone speak.

"You were…" Hermione planted a kiss on his chest. "Everything I wanted and more."

"Why can you never give a straight compliment?"

"Are going to let me explain?"

Ron raised his eyebrows as if to prompt her.

"You were kind, attentive and you," she whispered for some reason. It was as though the words were for him and him alone and she didn't even want the furniture to overhear them. "I didn't want anything else from our first time."

"Not exactly the adjectives I was looking for-"

"What do you want me to say?" she snapped.

"Nothing," he sighed, looking awkward suddenly. "I just- I'm sorry."

"What for?" she asked bemused.

Ron paled and started looking at everything that wasn't her.

"Not making you – I mean-" he coughed. "Giving you an… you know."

She did know. She also knew that everything about him, from his red ears, threatening to blend in with his hair, to the long feet poking out at the end of the bed, was closer to perfection than she could've hoped for and she never wanted to let him go.

"Thank you."

Ron stared at her, his brow knitted in confusion, as Hermione felt herself tear up and felt ridiculously girly again.

"I didn't do anything," he said nonplussed.

Hermione smiled at how wrong he was – he did everything. He cared, he loved her and all without trying to.

"You did," she told him before kissing him again. "Now get up."

His lips still slightly apart after the abruptly ended kiss, Ron sighed. "Fine. Just- don't look."

Hermione pulled her bottom lip into her mouth. "I make no promises."

Ron did a double take.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed somewhere between being impressed and shocked.

"I have wanted to see your backside for years," she said primly, rolling off of him so he could get up. "Please do not deny me this opportunity."

"But – what?"

She tried not to smile but it was very hard with Ron looking at her so surprised, his brain apparently still not able to understand her being attracted to him.

"I want to see your arse too!"

"I asked first."

Flirting. She, Hermione Granger, was actually flirting. The newness of it all made her fingers tingle until Hermione noted that they were both naked and were now sexually active. Flirting should have lost its novelty before that happened. Right? They really were doing everything backwards, she thought as Ron swallowed and started shifting to the edge of the bed.

Watching him act so obviously nervous but trying to keep up a façade of confidence was one of the most heart-warming things she had ever seen. With one final glance at her, he slid out if the covers, cupping himself with one hand and went in search of his boxers. Meanwhile, Hermione curled up on her side, bunching the duvet up to create a makeshift pillow and watched him with a silly smile on her face.

Ron Weasley was walking around her bedroom, naked, and she was allowed to watch.

"You don't have to actually ogle me, y'know," he grumbled, red-faced as he picked his underwear up.

"Oh, but I do."

Ron turned around to see her watching him and his bashful face melted a little. His jaw dropped a fraction, enough so that his tongue could dart out to wet his top lip. He was looking at her with such honesty, as though he couldn't believe his luck and Hermione felt her cheeks warm up again. She was really going to have into the possible side effects of blushing too much.

"You really are beautiful."

He had moved his hand, revealing himself, but Hermione kept her gaze on his face as he crossed the room and lay down on top of her, over the cover, and kissed her deeply.

"You know what you said about not rushing?" he whispered against her lips while Hermione tried to get her brain to functioning enough to understand words.

"Hmm?"

"Well, I agree and everything - I mean, there's still loads to sort out with your parents and stuff - but… can we start not rushing tomorrow?"

And once again, Hermione found herself happily throwing careful planning and sensible ideas out of the window because Ron Weasley was in her personal space and nothing else seemed to matter.