A/N: This is shameless smut with a little plot thrown in for flavour :D

This was beta'd by my lovely friend Liah

Hermione tossed the final broken joke product in the bin bag, swearing under her breath as she wriggled fully out from under the bed and stood up. She stretched, arching her back and breathing in the fresh spring air coming through the open window. It was her last job to prepare the Burrow for the two-year Battle of Hogwarts anniversary party that evening. Which had meant – in Mrs Weasley's no uncertain terms – doing a thorough deep clean throughout the house, even her children's old bedrooms.

Two years after the final battle, Ginny and Hermione were the only ones still living there. Ron had moved into Grimmauld Place with Harry on his request straight after the war, but Hermione had refused, having had rather enough of cleaning up after both of them. While she'd finished her final year at Hogwarts she'd felt her and Ron's developing relationship needed breathing room. The subsequent end of their relationship after his unexpected and unwanted proposal had made her especially glad to have an escape.

As Ginny was away half the year, training and preparing for her first season flying with the Holyhead Harpies, Hermione had been alone in the Burrow – upon Mrs Weasley's insistence when Hermione had mistakenly mentioned not knowing where she was going to live.

It was mostly okay, and allowed her the freedom to throw herself into her budding research for the Ancient Runes apprenticeship she'd recently started. But the matriarch's not-stop attempts at match-making were starting to wear on Hermione's patience, and rather restricted her ability to go out and about.

Hermione pulled her hair up off her neck, twisting her thick curls up into a loose bun on the top of her head and fanning herself to try and cool down. The Burrow trapped heat terribly, especially in the upper rooms where the twin's old bedroom – now her new bedroom – was. She pulled her shirt off over her head, leaving her in just her short-shorts and lacy bra as she shook off the dust and debris collected from crawling around beneath the bed for ages.

Large freckled hands slid around her waist from behind, making her jolt in surprise and drop her shirt to the floor. She relaxed immediately when she recognised his heady scent. "Why are you standing here all exposed, Granger? Anyone could see you and take advantage."

"Anyone did." She turned in the circle of his arms, tilting her head back to make eye contact with him. His red hair was in disarray, revealing his missing ear, and shirtless torso, streaks of sweat running through the dirt covering his chest from helping de-gnome the garden for the afternoon. "Are you done for the day?"

George shrugged, his broad shoulders pink and more freckled than usual. The late afternoon sun streaming through the window picked out the lighter strands in his hair, haloing him in Gryffindor colours. "I slipped away without mum noticing. I wanted to see you."

She started to grin, but it was swallowed up by his lips capturing hers and mutated into a groan halfway. He slid one hand down to grip her hip and pull her closer, the other sliding up her back to tangle in her loose bun, tilting her head back so he could deepen the kiss.

Her surprised, and pleased, moan was swallowed by his insistent lips against hers.

It had been two years now since the battle. Two years of a relationship that had started as Hermione trying to find some way to help George cope with Fred's death, and had slowly developed into the deepest and most meaningful friendship she had, especially following her and Ron's explosive end to their love life a year prior. Over the past few months they had been moving - glacially slowly - towards a deeper relationship, movie nights turning to date nights, and cheek and forehead pecks migrating to her lips, but this was the first time George had taken charge so forcefully.

Hermione was surprised, but certainly not complaining. She'd been purposefully taking it slow, knowing - or thinking - that George was nowhere near ready for anything more. This was the first time he'd seen her out of any of her clothes in a context outside of swimming.

She stood to her tiptoes enabling a deeper kiss, wrapping her hands around his warm, still sweaty shoulders, gripping her fingers into the ends of his growing hair and holding on when his tongue slid sensuously along her bottom lip and into her mouth when she opened for him with an eager whimper.

Ginny's strident voice shouting for Harry far too close sent them careening apart, the large hand that had been sliding up her stomach exploratorily dropping as George took a sudden step back. Hermione swayed forward for a moment, feeling the loss of his body heat against her like a shock. His dark blue eyes were blown wide when she met them, pupils nearly swallowing the iris whole.

She watched with a sudden sharp sadness as his eyes roamed the room and every last bit of pleasure left him, a melancholy she knew well from the last two years creeping in. When he turned his eyes back to her they were apologetic and devastated. "Hermione-" He started, but couldn't get any further before he cut himself off.

"George." She stepped forward. Recognising the look in his eyes easily, she wrapped her arms around his suddenly stiff frame. "You don't need to apologise."

"I can't. Not here." She could feel him shaking so she tightened her hold, and tilted her head back to look at him. She found him already staring down at her, looking utterly furious at himself. "I'm so fucking broken Hermione. You deserve better than-"

She reached up and gently placed her finger over his lips, cutting his unfortunately familiar self-loathing off. "George, please don't apologise for still grieving. He was your twin, no one expects you to get over that easily or quickly."

"I owe you better than this." He spoke past her finger, his hands settling gently on her waist, the tentative touch so different from the hold he'd had on her not minutes before.

"You don't owe me anything, and how about you let me decide what I deserve, hmm?" Hermione lifted her finger from his lips, gently smoothing it through his still unruly hair. "You are not broken. You are healing, you are coping," she reassured him. "It's not a straight line, and it's difficult, but I'll happily be here with you for every step, no matter what that is. We can take this relationship, whatever it may be, as fast or as slow as we decide."

"Hermione-" George shook his head, like he was trying to dislodge his bad thoughts. "I want you, Godric knows I do. I want to have sex with you, I want to be able to tell my family about us, this, whatever we are. I just don't know how."

"That's okay," she reassured, happy that he was able to open himself up like this to her, that he trusted her enough to trust her with his hopes and fears. "We'll go at your pace, whatever that may be."

"I'm sorry." He pulled her closer, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against hers. His chest expanded against hers as he took a deep breath, breathing her in. She just held him close as the tears came again, stroking her hand up and down his broad back, wishing she could absorb his grief for him, take some of his burden from him – the weight of being half of a whole for the rest of his life.


When Ginny knocked on the door some time later Hermione was alone in her room again, carefully tying up and shrinking the rubbish bags. She'd sent George off once he'd cried himself hoarse to have a shower whilst she finished up. She probably should have cleaned and stripped the room when she'd first moved in, but there had been something comforting about being in the chaos of someone else's mess while she'd been trying to sort through the mess inside her head following the war.

"You okay, 'Mione?" Ginny frowned, sweeping the room with surprised eyes. "I thought you were changing the room around finally?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I've just finished cleaning, and took a break because George came in." Hermione sent a significant look at her friend, and a sudden grin appeared on her face, brown eyes lighting up.

"Oh Merlin, did you finally get it on?" Ginny wiggled her eyebrows, glancing around the room as though her older brother would suddenly appear to satisfy her nosiness. Ginny was the only one who knew of their budding relationship – and George wasn't aware of that. She had been overjoyed for them both upon the revelation.

Hermione shook her head, turning away so Ginny wouldn't see the sadness on her face, "We kissed, but this room brought back some bad memories for him."

Ginny sighed sadly, and when Hermione turned back around, shrunken rubbish bags all carried in one larger bag, the redheaded woman had her wand in hand. "Look, mum sent me up to tell you lunch was nearly ready. You go on down and take that with you and I'll redo your room."

"Gin-" Hermione started to protest, but the younger woman held her hand up to cut her off.

"Don't argue with me. Go," Ginny shooed her out of the room, a grin on her face at Hermione's indignant half-protests as she was pushed out the door. "When lunch is done and you and George come back up here, there won't be anything to ruin the mood." Hermione saw the flash of deep grief in Ginny's eyes, but knew any comments on it would be very unwelcome, so she listened to Ginny and made her way downstairs into the chaos of the Burrow's kitchen.

"Ah Hermione, love! Take that out the back and come back to help carry everything to the table," Molly shouted cheerfully from the stove, her face flushed and a happy smile on her face when she sent a little look over at Bill and Fleur standing in the doorway to the living room.

Hermione followed the Weasley matriarch's instructions, taking the bin bags outside and dropping them in the wheelie bin that would automatically transfer the waste to be destroyed by the Ministry. She didn't immediately head back inside though, spotting Harry and Ron slacking off on their de-gnoming duties and heading towards them.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry looked up from the gnome they'd been throwing grass at, a guilty smirk on his face. "How's the house cleaning going?"

"Ginny kicked me out to transfigure the room so it won't look like the twins' anymore."

"'Bout damn time, 'Mione," Ron commented, laughing at the brief look she sent him for speaking around a mouthful of strawberries he must've picked from the vegetable garden without his mum's permission.

"I've been too busy to get around to it," She sniped back, unreasonably annoyed at her ex-boyfriend-still-best-friend.

"Alright, alright," Ron held up his hands, chuckling when she gave him a light shove.

"Molly probably wants you both to come in, by the way," Hermione commented, turning to head back towards the house herself. "She's roping me into carrying things to the table for lunch."

Hermione left the two to gather their things and follow her into the house. She glanced into the upper floor windows as she headed inside, her eyes catching on a tall, broad silhouette that could only be George as the only other Weasley son shaped like him was Charlie – who was currently back in Romania. Hermione swallowed at the thoughts that entered her mind, resolving that they'd finish what they'd started earlier as soon as they could.


"Is that everything?" Harry asked, as he and Hermione set the final bowls of salads on the table a few minutes later, which was groaning under the weight of all the food Mrs Weasley had made.

"Yes, thank you dears," Molly said, "Could someone please fetch Bill and Percy from outside?"

"I'll go, Mollywobbles," Arthur offered, pressing a kiss to the side of her head as he headed past her and out the back door.

"George is upstairs mum, Hermione can go get him." Ginny sent her a significant and smug look when Hermione turned to her with wide eyes.

"Oh, if you wouldn't mind, Hermione dear."

"Of course not, I'll go now." Hermione smiled at Mrs. Weasley, ignoring the weird frown Ron was sending his sister over her grin, and heading quickly for the stairs, wanting to get out of the situation.

She hurried up the stairs, heading for Charlie's old room where George was staying for the next few days. She shoved the door open and slammed it shut behind herself, pushing her back against the wood and closing her eyes for a moment to gather herself. She didn't pay attention to the interior of the room as she controlled her – probably unreasonable – reaction to Ron's silent suspicion.

"What's going on?" George's deep voice broke through her distraction, and her eyes popped open. He was standing not two feet away from her by the edge of the bed, still not dressed from his shower. His towel was slung low around his waist, skin fresh and clean and covered in a light pink flush from the hot water and scrubbing. Her eyes followed a lone drop of water as it fell from his red hair onto his shoulders and down his broad, freckled chest, trailing a tantalising path to the line of sparse ginger hair that led from his belly button and down beneath his towel. She watched him with hungry eyes and didn't notice the way his gaze had sharpened and darkened in lust.

"Lunch." She whispered, but instead of turning to leave the room she happily let George grab her hands and pull her close.

"You like what you see, Granger?"

She pressed a hand to his bare chest, feeling his heat radiating out, "Definitely."

He smirked, dropping her other hand to grasp her wide hips and pull her gently against him. He leant down and took her lips in a heated kiss, moaning against her when she eagerly returned it. She slipped her hands around his back, clutching tight when he deepened the kiss. His lips moved worshipfully over her and when she opened her mouth to him with a whimper his tongue stroked against hers.

His body ached for her, he was drowning in her taste. Why had he waited so long to kiss her properly? He knew the reason of course, but he pushed those thoughts from his head – those thoughts had ruined the moment earlier and he was determined they wouldn't now.

He feathered his fingers up her back underneath her loose shirt, trailing tickling lines up and around her ribs, running along her skin as she gasped into his mouth. He slid his hands further up her sides, lifting her shirt up and off when she pulled back and eagerly held her arms out the way.

He dug his hands into her thick dark curls, tilting her head back as he leant further down and took her lips in his again, absorbing the sweet whines she let out against him when their chests pressed together. George drank her in, the fire that filled her spilling over into the passionate way she kissed him, her fresh scent filling his nostrils.

She whimpered when his hands slid up her stomach, freckled hands pale against her dark skin, to cup her covered breasts. Her own hands slid down his back, tucking into his loosening towel and grasping generous handfuls of his tight arse. His answering moan rumbled through her, sending shivers skittering up her spine. His name filled the air between them, falling from her swollen lips as she tilted her head back to afford him the space to kiss his way across her exposed decolletage.

He nibbled his way up the column of her throat, relishing in the keen she let out before she grasped the earless side of his head and pulled him back to her mouth. Their mouths slanted together, Hermione taking charge and stroking her tongue into his mouth to try and get across every thing she was feeling right now.

His hands, which had still been cupping her breasts and feathering light touches over her nipples through the lace - which had her pushing her chest into him and groaning every time - moved around her back. His fingers fumbled with the hook, struggling with the Muggle construction and distracted by Hermione sucking his bottom lip into her mouth.

Just as the clasp finally came undone in his hands, the bedroom door flung open. "George, what the bloody hell's taking so long?! Mum sent Hermione up to-" The door bounced off the wall and hit Ron hard - the younger Weasley had frozen in shock as he saw the scene in front of him, his words cutting off in a stutter. Hermione and George, half-naked and wrapped around each other, froze too. "What the fuck is going on?" Ron roared, face suddenly red and blue eyes furious.

Hermione quickly clutched her loosened bra to her chest, holding it there as George fumbled to hold his towel in place and hide his straining erection from his younger brother.

"None of your business," Hermione snapped, annoyed at Ron's interruption and frankly, extreme reaction. It wasn't unexpected, just unfortunate that it had happened this way and right now.

George grabbed his shorts from the bed, pulling them on and slinging the towel away when he'd finally calmed down enough to be decent. He stepped around Hermione and reached down to pick up her top, staying close and blocking her from Ron's view as she redressed. He didn't respond, ignoring the steam that was practically pouring out of Ron's ears as he waited for a response.

"George," Ron roared. "You gonna bloody answer? How long has this been happening?"

"As Hermione said, it's not really your business, Ron."

"Yeah it is when you're sleeping with my ex!" Ron stepped closer, fury making him reckless as he took a sudden unexpected swing at George once he was clear of Hermione.

"Ron!" Hermione shouted in dismay, eyes wide, and her cheeks flushed for a suddenly different reason. "As you said, I'm your ex! It's not your business who I date."

"Or shag in my family home." Ron sneered, drawing his fist back again and actually managing to catch George on the shoulder before he could sidestep it again.

Hermione gritted her teeth in anger, leaning around George's body. "Stop it, Ron!"

George held a placating hand up to Ron, "Seriously, mate. I don't want to fight you."

It had never been more clear than that moment just how much Fred's death had altered his temperament; whilst George had always been the least reckless of the two, he'd been so much less the last two years.

"Fuck you, George," Ron spat. "How long did you wait huh? Moved in on her as soon as we broke up? Maybe even before?"

Hermione stepped past George, getting between them and putting a hand on Ron's chest to push him back. He was too heavy and tall to have much of an effect on him. "Ron, stop! You're wrong and you know it. You're just reacting blindly. Get out and we'll be down in a minute. We can talk about this like adults after lunch."

"No. This is a family thing, 'Mione," Ron sneered, pushing her out of the way and using George's angry distraction at the rough shove to try punching him again. Despite Hermione trying to stop an actual fight occurring, George's patience ran out; the frustration and emotions of the day getting to him combined with Ron's antagonism.

He stopped Ron's hand with one of his, using his other to shove Ron back, pushing him out of the bedroom into the hall. "Hermione is family, Ron. And she's right. Just stop. I don't wanna bloody do this."

Too caught up in his anger, Ron immediately shoved George more forcefully than before. "I really bloody do." A fist followed the shove, catching George in the face – which would likely later blacken his eye for hours.

"Fuck you, Ron. Stop being a jealous prick," George snarled, a sound she'd not heard him make before. "Me and Hermione are no one's business, certainly not yours. You two broke up, and she owes you nothing." George's retaliating punch caught Ron's chin, knocking his head back.

"Both of you stop it!" Hermione shouted, trying to push her way between them, but Ron was too caught up in his jealousy, and in George, to let go of the sudden opportunity to release his frustration.

"What in Merlin's name are you three doing up here?" Molly Weasley's strident voice, sharp and loud, stopped George and Ron in their tracks, freezing at the tone they knew intimately from their childhoods. "Fighting in the hallway on the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts when you're supposed to be downstairs having a nice family lunch!?"

"Mum-" George started, but she held up a firm hand, her lips pursed furiously.

"If you insist on acting like children, then I will treat you that way. Get downstairs now, and you can explain yourselves after." Mrs, Weasley crossed her arms over chest firmly. "If I have to, I will find some chores to occupy your time so you don't have the time to make fools of yourselves any more." She made shooing motions with her hands, not moving until Ron and George followed her instructions and headed downstairs. "Are you okay, Hermione, dear?"

Hermione nodded, shocked at Ron's extreme reaction. She'd known he wouldn't be happy whenever her and George's burgeoning relationship came out, but she hadn't expected him to be so jealous, and she certainly hadn't expected him to fight George over it. "Yeah."

"What on earth were they fighting about?" Molly prodded as they followed the two down the stairs.

Hermione just shook her head, and muttered beneath her breath, "Don't know." She didn't want to have to explain any of what had just happened to the Weasley matriarch.

"Alright, dear." She sounded sceptical but let it go for the moment. Hermione knew it wouldn't be a permanent respite and that sooner or later Molly would push for more information.


Hours later, party in full swing, Hermione found herself standing alone on the front porch staring out into the fast darkening evening. Everyone else was in the back garden or the house, drinking and making merry. Hermione, however, had needed a reprieve, unable to deal with so much noise and too many people for so long. The fresh spring air drifted a cool breeze, lifting the loose curls that had fallen from her bun and raising goosebumps along her exposed legs and arms.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, allowing it to calm the worries and stresses of the day, trying to forget everything bad from the war and just celebrate their victory.

After lunch, Mrs. Weasley had indeed put George and Ron to work getting everything she wanted done, but despite her grilling she'd gotten no explanation from either of them about just what the fight had been about. Hermione was glad her frantic whispering over lunch had at least convinced the still furious Ron to keep quiet for now.

"I'm sorry." George's voice was quiet but made her jump, cutting through the still of the night. "Mum had us working hard so I didn't get a chance to apologise earlier. I really didn't want to fight him, but everything he said just got to me."

She turned to face him, smiling softly at the contrite look on his face. "I know George, it's not your fault," she reassured him.

"Still, that's not how I wanted earlier to end, or how I wanted anyone to find out about us. We keep getting interrupted." George cupped her face in his hand gently, his long fingers tangling in the loose curls.

"We could leave now," she whispered, mesmerised by how intently his deep blue eyes were focused on her. "We won't be missed." She pressed her cheek into his hand, tilting her head back invitingly, and moaning when he took it gladly and kissed her hard.

It was still new, the way he kissed her.

The amount of times they'd kissed today was nearly more than the last few weeks of their slowly developing relationship combined, and the way he supped from her lips and how his tongue tangled with hers was still tantalising and exciting, she could tell she would never get tired of it.

"Let's go." He agreed eagerly against her lips, uncaring about whether his family saw as he hooked his hands beneath her thighs and lifted her into his arms. She squealed, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck and happily holding on as he spun on the spot and apparated them away.

They appeared in his bedroom and she kissed him again, sliding her hands up into his hair and clutching tight. He groaned, his long freckled fingers digging into the meat of her thighs as he carried her to the bed. He stumbled over discarded clothes barely visible on the floor in the moonlight streaming through the window as he ravaged her mouth like a man starved.

He dropped her to the bed, ripping his shirt over his head as she eagerly stripped her own top and shorts off, throwing them away one by one. Now that they'd finally gotten to this point, after so many obstacles throughout the day, he couldn't hold back. He crawled over her when she was down to just her bra and knickers, in just his boxers which did nothing to hide just how much she'd affected him as he eagerly pressed his body to hers.

"This should be illegal." He muttered against her mouth, catching her bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling gently while running his fingers ran along the edge of her bra, "It's been teasing me all day."

"Take it off, George." She groaned, arching her back into his hands.

He twisted the clasp apart and pulled the flimsy material away with a triumphant sound, flinging it into the void of the room and pulling back enough to drink in the sight of her flawless breasts. "Godric, you're fucking perfect."

He dipped his head and took a pebbled nipple in his mouth, his hands tracing tingling trails down her stomach. Hermione arched, whimpering into the air and clutching tighter at his hair when he brought his teeth into play and skimmed them over the sensitive skin lightly.

"George-" She started to whisper, but her words and thoughts were lost in a sharp cry of pleasure when his long fingers slipped beneath the final barrier between them and found her dripping centre, sliding deftly along either side of her sensitive clit before pausing at her entrance, his large hand cupping her sex.

"Were you going to say something, Granger?" He asked patiently, blue eyes dancing with mischief when she met them, his lips twitching with barely restrained mirth.

Hermione groaned and arched her hips into his hand, her eyes flashing with that fire he loved, "Don't you dare stop, George Weasley!" She practically snarled.

George chuckled, and slid two fingers into her aching cunt, his thumb gently caressing her clit. He rested his weight on his other elbow, leaning over her and watching her face intently as her eyes fluttered shut rapturously. Her head had fallen back, the column of her throat there for the taking and her dark curls spread in a halo around her.

George hadn't been with anyone since before the final battle, and now he hoped he'd never be with anyone else. The sight of Hermione beneath him, her expression uncensored and exultant tugged at something deep in his soul and soothed the jagged edges of the hole Fred had left in his life.

He curled his fingers inside her, pressing harder against her clit in the same moment. Hermione's eyes popped open in shock, a gasp falling from her swollen lips at the sensation. There it was. Hermione wasn't idle as he pushed her slowly up the cliff of her pleasure, her hands alternately clutching at him or fumbling to try and push his loose boxers down his hips. He wouldn't let her focus for long though, continuing to stroke her and work her up and over that edge as a flush painted her dark cheeks and she convulsed around his fingers, crying his name to the ceiling.

He gently pulled his hand away and sucked the gleaming juices from his fingers, moaning at the taste and promising himself more of that, later. "Alright?" he asked softly, kissing her forehead and smiling tenderly as she caught her breath. She looked at him like something she'd never seen before and curled a hand around his neck, leaning up to kiss him deeply.

She grinned when they pulled away and slid her hands down his sun-kissed, freckled chest, feathering over the dips and scars, and following the deep 'V' that led tantalisingly beneath his boxers. She tugged the material swiftly down and off his hips, throwing the boxers aside and letting out an involuntary moan when his long, thick cock bobbed free. She licked her lips and grasped him in her hand, getting only two firm strokes in before he was gently pushing her away.

"Next time. I'm not gonna last otherwise." His voice was raspy and his pupils had nearly swallowed his irises as he looked down at her with desire. Merlin, where had he hidden all of this? She'd known Ron was below average, but George was worlds away.

She smirked, and pushed him over to lay on his back. She straddled him, not bothering to pull her knickers fully off in her eagerness. His hands clutched at her hips as she positioned herself over him, pulling her knickers to the side as she rubbed her slick folds along the length of his cock.

He groaned, tipping his head back for a moment, his flaming red hair bright even in the muted light from the window. He let out a stuttering moan and his hips arched into hers when he nestled against her entrance, and he lifted his head to watch, catching her gaze as she sunk down on him, her eyes fluttering shut and a throaty moan escaping her as he eased in.

"Godric, Hermione." George groaned again in response, her silky walls caressing his length as he bottomed out in her, "You're so wet. Fuck."

He slid his hands up her spread legs as she sat there, relishing the feel of him inside her, stretching and filling her perfectly. His long fingers dug into her thick thighs, holding tight and pressing bruises into her dark skin – that she would later admire and relish in –, as she began moving, rocking back and forth so he stayed inside her – hot and heavy.

The urgency in her motions grew, a tiny frown furrowing her brow as ecstasy swelled again, the small thrusts George was making in time with her rocking sent sparking jolts throughout her whole body. One of his hands slid to her back, clutching her tight to him as he sat up, changing the angle so she sunk even deeper down him. His other fell back behind him, propping him up so he could pump his hips up into hers as she grinded down against him. Her hands dug into his hair when he wrapped his lips around one of her nipples and sucked, laving his tongue over the sensitive flesh. Every scratch of her nails over his scalp sent shivers through him.

"Come on, Hermione." George whispered, his chapped lips brushing against her sensitive nipples, the puffs of warm air from his breathing that fluttered over the wet flesh sending jolts of pleasure straight down to her core. "I want to feel you come for me love."

"Please, George. I…." Hermione panted helplessly to the ceiling, pleasure-hazy eyes seeing nothing. She was so close.

The hand on her back slid around, fingers spreading wide over her hip as he dipped his thumb between her folds to find her clit. "This?"

"Yes!" She cried, hips stuttering out of the rhythm they'd built, "Fuck, Geor-" Her words got lost in a loud cry as she came again, shuddering uncontrollably as her release sent her clenching in waves around his cock.

"Shit, Hermione." George's hips arched beneath her and he stroked her back gently as she came down. Before she managed to fully catch her breath, he was rolling them over, grinning down at her cheekily and admiring how she looked spread out beneath him in the sparse moonlight.

He lowered himself to his elbows above her so he could kiss her again as he started moving inside her, sliding his thick cock slowly in and out of her to allow her over-sensitivity to pass. Hermione's heart stuttered, emotion rising in her as he took his time building her up again.

George groaned when her fingers glided over his chest and found his nipples, pinching them softly at first, then harder as she gauged his reaction and her impatience with the slow pace started to grow. With a particularly sharp pinch, he drove into her hard but slid back slowly, again and again, until she was writhing beneath him again, pleading for more.

"Please, George!" She begged, knowing he was holding back. When her nails dug into his arse, he snarled, a sound she'd not heard him make with her before, but wanted to hear again and again, and pounded his cock repeatedly into her, pushing her to her final climax before he spilled his seed into her with a groan of her name.

They lay wordlessly in each others' arms, sweaty and sated, the cool breeze coming in through the window caressing their skin gently. Hermione turned to face him some indeterminate time later, her dark brown eyes mapping every inch of his handsome freckled face, committing the satisfied and slightly smug look on his face to memory.

"Why did we wait so long?" He asked with a chuckle, angling his head so he could catch her eyes with his.

Hermione couldn't have stopped the grin that stretched her lips wide if she'd tried, "I don't know. But we're not waiting so long again."

A/N: Look I didn't want to kill off Fred, but it had to happen for this fic...