Part Two – "Beyond the Green Door"

A wizard wireless was set up in the corner, turned up to its maximum volume, belting out contemporary Wizarding music akin to Muggle Rock-'n-Roll. There was a table set up for snacks and sweets, including rock cakes, prawn-flavored crisps, chocolate biscuits, cauldron cakes, éclairs, pumpkin pasties, and treacle tarts. There was a table of completely nothing but butterbeer, and just as Ron predicted there was also a table full of half-empty bottles of Firewhiskey.

However, that was not what drew their attention and made them regret entering the room. That distinction belonged to the mass of writhing flesh occupying the center of the Room of Requirement.

Almost every single member of the sixth and seventh year Gryffindor classes…nearly fifteen students altogether…were on the floor, naked or nearly-so, engaged in various forms of sexual intercourse. And in the center of all this debauchery was the perverted ringleader, Cormac McLaggen, himself.

However, Ron and Hermione's attention was drawn away from McLaggen by a flash of red hair off in the far corner of the room. There, Dean Thomas was busily engaged with none other than…


At the sound of her name, Ginny pulled away from her boyfriend and looked up. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were glazed as she gave an intoxicated smile; whether she was drunk on sex or actual alcohol was yet to be determined. Ginny waved jerkily at them and then seemed to forget about the two new arrivals as she turned her attention back to Dean, more interested in sex than in her brother and his best friend.

"What the bloody Hell is going on here?" Ron yelled, averting his eyes from the sight of his sister being defiled, but everywhere he turned there were more people having sex.

His head was tingling and he felt a bit in a fog as he tried to process what was going on around him. Of course, there was also a tingling occurring below his waist, accompanied by a significant swelling and tenting of his denims beneath his robes.

"Hermione, do you have any idea what we're supposed to do here?" What to do when you find more than a dozen members of your House involved in an orgy in a secret room was never covered in the prefects' briefing during the journey to school on the Hogwarts Express.

"I…I don't know, Ron…" Hermione tried not to watch her close friend Ginny having sex in front of her, but her brain didn't seem to want to work. She was feeling remarkably lightheaded and there was a tingling feeling between her thighs, "I definitely wasn't expecting this when Colin said there was a party going on in here."

Ron nodded dumbly, his body definitely reacting to the orgy going on all around them. He knew he should be furious that Dean would bring Ginny to this type of party, but he could only feel jealousy that his sister had lost her virginity before he had. He turned towards Hermione and felt his manhood throb so hard at the sight of her that he nearly exploded in his pants.


"Yes, Ron?" she turned to face him and gasped loudly as a sudden blast of heat and wetness exploded between her thighs. Hermione wished she was the one having sex instead of Ginny, though the idea of being with Dean did nothing for her. However, the redhead standing in front of her was another matter entirely; she had the incredible urge to strip Ron naked and have her way with him.

"'Mione…" Ron said huskily, his voice thick with lust. He licked his lips and took a step closer to her, his erection pointing straight at her, though hidden by his school robes.

"Ron…" Hermione's own voice was just as husky as Ron's and she was mesmerized by the way he licked his lips. She stepped closer, wanting to be the one to lick his lips.

He pulled her to his body and held her tight. She couldn't help the moan that escaped when she felt his hardness press against her stomach. Hermione knew what it was, though she'd never actually seen one before – unless she counted the glimpses she caught of the boys having sex all around her…and she didn't. She wanted Ron's to be the first one she experienced in any way…and she wanted that experience to happen here, tonight.

"Ron…" she whimpered, trying to tell him how badly she wanted him and how she was his for the taking…but he cut her off with a soul-searing kiss…her first real kiss…with the boy she wanted to have all her firsts with.

Ron put everything he could into the kiss. He had never before in his life kissed a girl, and it should have been clumsy and awkward, but there was something driving him…some sort of instinct that seemed to be telling him what to do and how to do it.

He kissed Hermione's lower lip ever so gently…that lip that he'd seen her worry between her teeth oh so many times in the past…that puffy lower lip he had longed to taste. He parted his lips and slowly began to suck on her lower lip with a light pressure, moving his own lips back and forth.

When his tongue slipped out and brushed teasingly over her lips, Hermione gasped in surprise but quickly recovered, opening her mouth and allowing him full access to her. The tip of Ron's tongue brushed against her own and a shiver ran up and down her spine. As his tongue entered her mouth more fully and began writhing against her own wriggling tongue, the shiver turned into a full-body tremor as passion and desire started to overpower her.

Hermione had no conscious knowledge of how it happened, but when they broke apart from the kiss, her robes had been completely unsnapped and Ron's arms were around her inside the robes, running his hands up and down her back.

She thrilled to the feeling of Ron's hands one layer closer to actual contact with her skin, and Hermione pushed herself against him so that his hard-on would dig even deeper into her stomach. Hermione felt herself almost faint when Ron latched his lips onto her neck and began sucking.

Ron slid his hands up under Hermione's blouse, desperate to feel her soft, smooth skin with his large, calloused hands. He bit the soft skin of her neck, leaving a mark that declared her as his. His head was foggy and his body almost seemed to be moving of its own accord, but one thing Ron did know was that he wanted Hermione…in every possible meaning of the word.

Ron's long fingers splayed across her back, brushing over the soft cotton material of her bra. Goosebumps popped up on her skin as he caressed her, and Hermione wished that her entire body could feel his flesh caressing it.

"Mmmm…mine," Ron moaned, bringing his mouth off her neck and sucking on the lobe of her ear, "My 'Mione…"

"God yes!" Hermione gasped, her whole body reacting to him. Her nipples were hard and aching to be touched as her breasts pressed against his firm chest. Her knickers were absolutely drenched as her most intimate of places declared its desire for the boy before her. She wanted to be Ron's and Ron's alone.

She whimpered sadly as his hands slipped out from under her blouse and he pulled his arms from around her, placing his hands on her shoulders. He looked deeply into her brown eyes and she gazed back into the blue depths of his own passion-filled eyes. Words were unnecessary as an agreement was made between them…a declaration from the deepest parts of their souls.

Ron pushed the black school robes off Hermione's shoulders, allowing them to pool at her feet. With nervous fingers, she reached up and undid the tarnished silver snaps of Ron's robes before pushing them off his shoulders as well, allowing her hands to linger there, caressing the strong muscles she found beneath his shirt…no doubt honed to perfection by Quidditch…a sport she would never again call "stupid".

He reached up and caressed her face, causing her to smile brightly at the tender way he touched her…reverently…lovingly. His fingers moved down to the top button of her blouse and he arched an eyebrow at her as if asking permission and she nodded determinedly as her own fingers began a similar task on his own shirt.

In less than a minute, their shirts were gaped open as all the buttons had been undone. Although she had seen Ron topless before, during their summers at the Burrow, the expanse of muscled flesh that peeked at her from inside his shirt made her feel as if she were on fire. The act of exposing that flesh to the light, though she had seen it bare before, made it seem forbidden…taboo…and that made the sight all the more intoxicating.

The strip of smooth, unblemished flesh that was now exposed to Ron's view made him weak in the knees. From her neck to her navel Ron could see the perfection of Hermione's body…the curvy fullness of her breasts, the slight swell of her stomach…it was like heaven to him. His only objection was the white cotton bra that hampered his view only slightly.

Together, as one, they pushed the uniform tops from each other's shoulders, allowing them to fall to the floor atop their bundled robes. There would be no turning back; that much was certain. Tonight Ron and Hermione would claim each other as lovers and neither would regret that decision.

Ron's lips found Hermione's again and they kissed hungrily; lips, teeth, and tongues working together to bring each other to here-to-fore unimagined heights of passion and pleasure and lust. Hermione's hands roamed over Ron's body…from his strong shoulders, down his powerful arms, and across his muscled chest.

Ron whimpered into her mouth as Hermione's fingers traced the course of the brain scars left over from their misadventure in the Department of Mysteries last year. Never before had the scars brought him any amount of pleasure, but as Hermione's delicate fingers danced over them, nothing but pleasure filled Ron's mind, body, and soul.

He kissed his way to her ear, sucking at the sensitive spot behind her lobe, his own hands moving tentatively over her body…stroking her shoulders, rubbing her arms, and then moving to gently cup the full breasts encased by her white cotton bra.

Hermione was unable to stifle her moans – not that she wanted to – as Ron kissed his way from the spot behind her ear, down to the junction of her neck and shoulder. His lips followed her collarbone to the hollow of her throat where he kissed and sucked gently.

His hands on her breasts were gentle and reverent as he cupped them and hefted the weight of the swollen, sensitive globes. His teeth nipped playfully at her neck, causing her to gasp before once again moaning as his thumbs brushed across her erect nipples through the soft material of her bra.

Ron squeezed her breasts and pressed them together as he began to trail tender, loving kisses from her throat down her breastbone to the deep valley of cleavage that was made even deeper by Ron pressing her breasts together. He buried his face in the cleavage, kissing, sucking, and nipping at the smooth, tender flesh that smelled of the unusual fragrance he had given her for Christmas last year.

"Oh, Ron…!" Hermione ran her fingers through the soft locks of Ron's red hair, moaning in pleasure at the tantalizing things he was doing to her breasts.

But suddenly, something seemed wrong. She could feel Ron's hands and mouth on her…he was now sucking at her nipples through her bra, taking each one into his mouth in turn, his hands moving down to caress her hips and squeeze her bum. But she could feel a second set of lips on her back…kissing her shoulder blade…and a second set of hands, too, were now fumbling with the hook-fasteners of her bra.


Her voice was frantic as she called him and it pulled him out of the pleasure-induced euphoria he was in. He looked up at her, concern for her above all else crossing his features, and then suddenly he was angry.

"What the Hell are you doing?"

Ron stood to his full height and pulled Hermione to him, pulling her away from the hands and lips that had been, if Hermione was honest about the way it felt, violating her. She turned and gasped at what she saw.


Hermione's hand flew up to cover her breasts from view, and Ron immediately moved her behind him to protect her more fully. He wanted no one touching her that way…no one but himself.

"I asked you a question, Harry," Ron said with menace in his voice. Hermione looked up, shocked that he could sound that way when talking to their best friend.

"Joining the fun," Harry said with a drunk-looking smile on his face. He was completely dressed except for the shirt that lay at his feet, "You guys started without me."

Colin Creevey must have come back when Harry entered the Room of Requirement, because the fifth year was in the room once again, happily snapping pictures. The flash from the wizard camera was enough to distract them for a moment...and allow Harry to make a move.

Harry stepped up to them and did something that neither Ron nor Hermione ever expected. He reached up and caressed Ron's cheek and then leaned up as if to kiss his best mate on the mouth.

"What the Hell?" Ron squeaked awkwardly at Harry's advance and backed up rapidly, "What're you doing? I'm not a poof!"

"We're the Golden Trio," Harry said, the odd smile still spread across his face, "Everyone expects us to share…"

"The Hell they do," Ron snapped, his anger at the prospect of sharing Hermione with anybody overcoming his discomfort with Harry's advances on him, "I'm not sharing Hermione with anyone, Harry…not even the bloody Boy-Who-Lived! Hermione is mine!"

"And Ron's mine," Hermione averred, finally finding her voice as she stepped out from behind Ron, her arms folded across her chest, "I'm sorry, Harry. We're not going to do this with you."

Harry frowned for a second at their rebuffing of him. However, it didn't last long. He looked around the room and saw many more opportunities to expend the lust roiling through his body. He began to undo his denims and moved further into the room as Ron and Hermione backed away from him.

"Hermione…I want you so bad," Ron said, looking deeply into her eyes. His head, which had seemed foggy before, was starting to clear, "But not here…not like this."

"I agree, Ron," Hermione replied, as she, too, was starting to think clearly again, "Maybe if we had someplace private…"

A door suddenly appeared in the wall next to them. They looked at each other and both seemed to have the same thought.

"You don't suppose…?"

"It is the Room of Requirement, Ron. We require privacy…and I think it's providing it for us."


Ron and Hermione took one, final look back at the Gryffindor orgy taking place before them. Harry was now completely naked and moving purposefully towards Ginny and Dean.

"That pervy git!" Ron growled, starting to move towards the center of the room to grab Harry before he reached his little sister. It was bad enough she was shagging her boyfriend; she didn't need the added company.

"Ron, no…come on," Hermione grabbed his arm and dragged him through the new door.

"Hermione!" he yelled once they were in the new room and the door had been closed, shutting them off from the carnal cavalcade they had nearly been a part of.

"Ron, listen to me…please!" she begged, "I think I know what's going on."

"What? You do? How?" he looked completely dumbfounded as he gazed down at her.

She blushed and looked away, refusing to meet his eyes. "There's a book…in the Restricted Section. I found it in Fourth Year when I was looking for ways to help Harry with the First Task. The book wasn't going to be the least bit helpful to him but…well…I was intrigued, so I read it."

"What book? Hermione what are you talking about?"

"The Arcane Encyclopedia of Carnal Spells, Rites, Rituals and Potions – 1862 Edition," she said, her whole body blushing, "It's a book about…well…I think the title says it all."

"Carnal…you mean, like, sex?" he asked, stunned.

"Of course I mean sex!" she snapped, not out of anger, but embarrassment, "Sorry…"

"Why did you read it?" Ron asked as suddenly a notion hit him that made his stomach drop, "Hermione, you and Krum didn't…?"

"What? Oh! God, no!" Hermione exclaimed, "Ron…I was fifteen and I just found a very…naughty…book in the Hogwarts library! Of course I read it! I mean, wouldn't you?"

"I dunno," he shrugged, "Were there pictures?"

She blushed again; in fact, it seemed as though she couldn't stop blushing and just kept getting deeper and deeper red. "Lots and lots of pictures…moving pictures…"

"And this book is in the library?" Ron suddenly seemed very interested.

"Actually…I think McLaggen might have it," Hermione said, looking up at him, "I think he used some of the spells in the book to turn this party into that…that…carnival of flesh out there."


"Yes, Ron…there's a spell…Desirus Indomitus…the Uncontrollable Lust spell," she explained, "It's supposed to remove the inhibitions from the people it's cast upon. I think he cast the spell on the whole room, so anybody coming in would be overcome with lust. It's why we…uh…you know…"

"Lost our heads?" he said, supplying her with a nice euphemism for what they had done.

"Exactly," she said nodding, folding her arms across her chest to cover her bra and what lay beneath. Hermione was having a hard time looking him in the eye as she thought about what they had done…and how it had felt.

"Then why are we the only ones thinking clearly now?" he asked in earnest.

"Well…there is a possibility…"

"I'm listening…"

"The 1862 Edition doesn't say, but the 1965 Edition…" Hermione was worried she was about to lose him as her explanation became more complex.

"Wait…there's two books now?" Ron looked confused.

"Well…you see…the copy in the library is over two hundred years old," she explained, trying to avoid his eyes, "I was…curious…to see if anything new had been added. It turns out the book went out of print in 1965, but I managed to find a copy of the final printing…"

"Uh huh…and…?" he smirked at her as he pictured goody-two-shoes Hermione Granger buying a magical sex book.

"Stop smirking at me, Ronald!" she snapped, finally looking at him, "It just so happens that later editions did include new information. For instance, the Desirus Indomitus was, for centuries, thought to be a spell that would just have to run its course…which could be from several hours to several days, depending on whether or not other spells were used to…enhance…the participants and their endurance. As you can imagine, after a few hours, friction would cause chafing to be a problem…not to mention fatigue…"

"Hermione…you're rambling…"

"Sorry…" Hermione took a breath and tried to gather her thoughts, "Later editions of the book reveal that one sure way to counteract the Desirus Indomitus is for a declaration of true love to be made. True love will always conquer over lust, you see."

"True…true love?" Ron squeaked as he spoke.

"Yes, Ronald…true love."

"So you're saying that we…that I…that you…"

"You called me yours," she reminded him, "And I said you were mine. Ordinarily, those statements wouldn't mean much without some sort of magical binding spell to back them up…but if two people are truly in love…such a declaration could be almost unbreakable."

"If that were true…Hermione are you in love with me?" he looked at her, his blue eyes seeking the answer within the warm chocolate brownness of her own eyes.

"Are…are you in love with me?" she asked him, keeping her eyes locked on his.


"Ron, please…for once in our lives we need to be honest with each other," Hermione sounded desperate…as though she needed him to answer first…to give her the courage to respond in kind.

Ron looked down. After everything they had said and done…despite the proof that was staring him in the face…he was still afraid. She could still turn him down…could tell him she only wanted friendship. No! Not after everything that happened. There was no way Hermione Granger did that and said those things about a friend!

"Hermione, I've never been in love before," he confessed, "But if what I feel for you isn't love, then actually being in love will probably kill me. The thought of you with other men hurts me, Hermione…and actually seeing you with another bloke…it's the worst pain I've ever felt."

Ron felt a weight lift off his heart as he said those words to Hermione. She could still turn him down, but at least he'd taken the chance…taken the initiative…and told her the truth of how he felt.

Tears were pouring down her cheeks as Ron made his confession…as he revealed his true heart to her. "Oh, Ron…!" she sobbed and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his naked, muscular chest, "Ron…I love you, too! So very, very much! I love you so much that I really don't have the words!"

He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, burying his face in her bushy brown hair, inhaling her scent and just holding her tight, their nearly-naked torsos causing electrical charges to run rampant along their bodies every place their bare flesh touched.

"So…this is why we're in here…thinking for ourselves…instead of out there…shagging each other rotten…because we're in love?" he asked with a wry grin.

She slapped him on the shoulder lightly and smiled up at him, "Would you prefer we go back out there, knowing that Harry's got his eye on both of us?"

"Eurgh! No thanks!" Ron said, making a disgusted face, "I never would have suspected that Harry swung both ways!"

"Ron…honestly!" Hermione clucked her tongue at him, "Harry isn't like that…it's the spell! I told you…it removes all inhibitions. Harry loves us both very much…but with his inhibitions removed, he doesn't realize that his feelings for us are fraternal, not romantic."

"Wait…so…every bloke out there could be just as happy shagging each other?" he asked, looking even more disgusted now.

"They could," she nodded, "If there weren't an abundance of girls out there…in fact, if there weren't a bunch of boys out there…well…I don't suppose you noticed that some of the girls were…with…each other?"

"Uh…" Ron blushed.

"I'll take that as a yes," Hermione said a bit huffily, "My point is the spell is doing this to them. Once it wears off, everyone will be back to normal."

"Thank Merlin," Ron sighed. This drew a confused look from Hermione, so he explained his remark, "It's nice to know my sister isn't a scarlet woman who enjoys shagging." While Ron was comforted by the thought that his sister wasn't a whore, he was enraged by the thought that McLaggen had cast the spell that did this to her…to all of them. "Of course, when it's all said and done, I'm going to have to kill McLaggen!"

"Ron!" Hermione would ordinarily assume that was just a bit of mindless bluster on Ron's part, but considering how protective he was of his little sister, she wasn't sure whether he was serious or not.

"Think about it, Hermione," Ron said, his voice rising in volume, "He did this. He turned everyone into a randy bunch'a gits who only care about shagging each other!"

"The spell will wear off, Ron," Hermione said, trying to be the voice of reason.

"And then what, Hermione?" Ron asked, a bit more snappishly than he meant to, "Everyone's going to remember what happened! How do you think Ginny's going to feel when she realizes what she did…what she let happen to her…what McLaggen made her do?"

"I hadn't thought about that," Hermione admitted, blushing. She tried putting herself in Ginny's place; if it was her, and someone had used a spell to make her take part in an orgy, she'd feel completely violated. There had to be something she could do to help Ginny and her fellow Gryffindors when this was all over with. "What if…what if we made her forget? What if we made them all forget?"

"You mean Obliviate everybody?" Ron said, looking hopeful, "If anybody could do it, Hermione, I know you could. You're a bloody genius!"

Hermione blushed deeper with the praise from Ron. It was much nicer being called a genius than it was being called a know-it-all. She immediately began planning what she would need to do in order to accomplish the Obliviation of the Gryffindors; she was intent on coming through for Ron.

"I suppose I could, but getting all those people to sit still while I alter their memory isn't going to be easy."

"Couldn't we just Stun them and then Obliviate them?" Ron asked, refusing to let go of the ray of hope generated by the memory modification plan.

Hermione had the feeling that Ron was on the right track, but the execution of his plan was flawed, "I can't imagine they'd be willing to let us Stun them all, one-by-one, anymore than they'd be willing to let us Obliviate them all."

"Oh…right. Sorry," Ron said, frowning.

"No, Ron, I really do think you have the right idea," Hermione said, reaching out and running an encouraging hand up his bare arm, "We have to put them all to sleep at the same time."

"How?" Ron asked, placing his hand on top of Hermione's as she stroked his arm, "There's nearly fifteen of them and only two of us."

"I have an idea," she said excitedly as a plan formed in her head, "Stay here…I'll be right back."

Hermione started for the door then stopped suddenly. On impulse, she turned back to Ron, stood up on tiptoes and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

"Stay," she said again, blushing as she smiled prettily and hurried out the door.

Once back inside the main area of the Room of Requirement, Hermione was relieved to see her and Ron's belongings still piled on the floor where they had left them. Spotting her blouse on the floor prompted Hermione to suddenly put an arm across her chest to cover her breasts and her white cotton bra.

She felt extremely exposed, suddenly, though she hadn't felt that way in the least when it had just been herself and Ron alone in the private chamber. Hermione acted quickly to cover herself up fully, but instead of donning her own shirt, she pulled on Ron's worn flannel shirt, tingling at the feel of his clothing against her skin. His scent was on the shirt and she recognized it immediately from the Amortentia potion Professor Slughorn had introduced them to during their first Advanced Potions class.

A sudden loud moan from the center of the room drew Hermione out of her reverie, and she remembered what she was doing. Gathering up the twin bundles of clothing at her feet, Hermione dug her wand out of the pocket of her robes. She took a quick glance around the room to make sure everyone was still too busy to pay any attention to her and gasped in spite of herself at what she saw.

Ginny and Harry were nowfrantically going at it. Dean had, apparently decided to enjoy some of the other available female flesh on display. Hermione once again shook herself out of her reverie. She had to act fast and hope that McLaggen didn't catch her.

"Accio Arcane Encyclopedia!" Hermione called as quietly as she could, waving her wand to Summon the book to her.

A large, red, leather-bound tome suddenly came zooming towards her from a dark corner across the room. She caught it, sending a glance McLaggen's way to ensure she didn't see. He didn't; apparently the girl he was shagging was much more interesting than the book…at least for now.

Carrying the book and their bundled-up clothing, Hermione hurried to rejoin Ron in the private chamber the Room of Requirement had provided for them. Once inside the room, Hermione found Ron reclining back on a large scarlet-and-gold four-poster bed, and it was only then that she really took a good look at the room they were in.

The room was slightly smaller than one of the dorms in Gryffindor Tower; it was decorated in deep, rich scarlet and warm, shining gold…Gryffindor colors…giving the strange room a sense of cozy familiarity.

A comfortable-looking maroon couch sat in front of a blazing hearth, the glow from the fire providing most of the light in the room. Candles placed here-and-there throughout the room added somewhat to the light while giving off a sense of romantic ambience.

The central feature of the room was the large four-poster bed that Ron now occupied. It was at least twice the size of the beds they had in their dorms, but at the same time, it felt completely familiar with its scarlet-and-gold appointments.

They had wanted someplace private, and the Room of Requirement had given them a cozy, comfortable chamber where two Gryffindors would feel right at home.

Ron sat up when she entered and his eyes widened slightly before a broad grin spread across his face.

"You're wearing my shirt," he said as his blue eyes raked over her in a loving and appreciative fashion.

"Oh…err…yes," she nodded, blushing at the way her body tingled at the sight of a shirtless Ron in bed, "I felt the need to cover up out there."

"And you chose my shirt?" Ron's grin became lopsided and it made Hermione melt inside.

"I can take it off," Hermione said, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

"Don't," he said, shaking his head, "At least, not yet…it looks good on you. Besides, I like the idea of you wearing my stuff; it's like it marks you as mine or something. Err…not that you're my property or anything…I just meant…you know…"

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the way he stumbled and stammered, trying to explain what he no doubt assumed she perceived as an insult. In truth, she might have gotten angry over something like that in the past, but not now…not after their mutual declaration of feelings for one another.

"I like feeling like I'm yours," she said, finally, letting him off the hook.

Her admission caused him to visibly relax, "You do? Well, in that case, I've got a couple of maroon Weasley jumpers in the bottom of my trunk that are too small for me, but would look bloody perfect on you."

"Language, Ron," Hermione said in a teasing tone, taking a few steps closer to the bed. She was trying to keep from screaming out in glee at the thought of not only receiving her very own Weasley jumper for Christmas, but of being given Ron's own jumpers…ones that he, himself, had worn…that no doubt smelled like him. Jumpers that she could wear as declaration that she belonged to Ron Weasley!

Ron obviously picked up the teasing in her tone, because he smiled cheekily at her, and for a few precious minutes they forgot about what was going on in the other room. However, when Ron noticed the large book clutched in her arms, he was brought back to the matter-at-hand.

"What's that?" he asked, nodding his head towards the book she carried.

She held the book up for Ron to see, and the gold lettering on the deep red leather cover read Arcane Encyclopedia of Carnal Spells, Rites, Rituals, and Potions – 1862 Edition. A smile crossed her lips and a twinkle took up residence in Hermione's warm brown eyes.

"What good is that book gonna do us?" Ron asked, confused, "McLaggen already cast the spell."

"There are other spells, Ron," Hermione said knowingly, "Some are spells that prolong endurance and stamina; other spells do the opposite."

"Huh?" he looked more confused than ever now.

"Some of these spells were developed by a very crafty witch who made a living trading sexual favors for money," Hermione explained in her best junior-McGonagall voice, knowing she could keep herself from blushing if she treated this like a technical lesson.

"You mean a prostitute, yeah?" Ron asked, moving over and patting the bed next to him.

She sat down in the spot Ron made for her and nodded her head, "Yes…she was a prostitute. And one of the spells she created caused the men she was…with…to fall asleep right after they…err…finished."

"What good is that?" Ron asked. He always thought a woman would want a man to stay awake after sex…in fact, when Bill and Charlie had The Talk with him during their summer holiday in Egypt four years ago, his older brothers had emphasized the importance of staying awake after sex in order to 'be there for her'.

"Well, you see," Hermione began, blushing as she demonstrated her knowledge of the contents of the book, "The witch who crafted the spell would use it so that she could rob the men and then escape without being caught."

"She must've been a Slytherin," Ron said, shaking his head.

"Yes, well, possibly," Hermione said, opening the book and flipping quickly to the page she was looking for, "It doesn't say what her House allegiance was when she attended Hogwarts…or even if she attended Hogwarts at all. But that's not important…what is important is that the spell is right here."

Hermione pointed at the page and Ron peered over her shoulder, his warm breath tickling her neck. She started trembling as she felt the heat from Ron's body pressing against her.

"Somno Terminus," Ron read from out of the book. He put an arm around Hermione's waist and pulled her closer so he could see the book better, "And this spell will put them all to sleep?"

"Y-yes," Hermione stuttered nervously, trying her best not to be distracted by the desire running rampant through her body for the redhead sitting next to her, "The spell is cast and whomever is in the room will fall asleep shortly after they reach their…finish."

"And then once they're asleep, we can Obliviate them," Ron said, sounding relieved and a bit excited to be getting this whole experience over with.

"Yes, exactly," Hermione nodded. She memorized the spell and the wand motion from the spellbook, "Once I've cast this spell, we can take our time and make sure everyone has had their memory altered."

"Brilliant! Let's get to it," Ron said, hopping up off the bed and padding across the floor towards the door.

"Ron, wait!" Hermione called, getting up and following him, "I should do this alone."

"What? Why?" Ron asked, looking a bit hurt that she wouldn't want his help.

"When I cast the spell, it will affect everyone in the room except the caster," Hermione explained, "And if you're out there with me, you'll be affected too."

That was the truth, but there was an ulterior motive behind Hermione wanting Ron to remain in the private room while she cast the spell; Ron was upset enough over what he'd seen his sister do with Dean, without seeing her with Harry as well.

"Alright, I'll stay behind," Ron said, "But as soon as you've cast the spell, come get me."

Hermione nodded and set her jaw determinedly; taking a deep breath, she made her way out into the Room of Requirement where the Gryffindor orgy was still going strong. She purposely avoided watching the debauchery around her, doing her best not to be distracted by what Harry, Ginny, and the other Gryffindors were doing to each other.

Taking up a position away from the writhing mass of bodies, Hermione waved her wand – once completely around her head, anti-clockwise, with two quick, sharp flicks – and cast the "Sleepy Finish" spell.

"Somno Terminus!"

A sudden wave of golden energy shot from the tip of her wand, filling the room with its golden light before dissipating…but no one seemed to notice but her. Of course, she couldn't tell if the spell had taken effect yet; she would just have to wait for the randy teenagers to start "finishing".

As soon as Hermione left to go cast the spell, Ron began looking through the book on his own, eyes bulging – along with other body parts – as he took in the moving illustrations, many of them demonstrating the effects of a particular spell. He kept imagining himself and Hermione acting out some of the more salacious illustrations, and that only increased the bulging in his jeans.

The door opened less than five minutes after Hermione had left. Hermione's return startled Ron and he blushed furiously as the book fell to the floor, landing loudly. He grabbed one of the pillows from the head of the bed and quickly covered his lap and the sizeable tent forming there.

"Err…is it…done?" he asked, trying to act like there wasn't an embarrassing erection beneath the pillow in his lap. Ron looked up and was more than a bit surprised to see Hermione carrying a tray of sweets in one hand and two bottles of butterbeer in the other.

"I cast the spell, but now we have to wait," she said, approaching the bed and handing him a drink, "This stuff seemed to be going to waste, and I thought you might feel a bit peckish."

He grinned broadly, taking an éclair off the platter she presented him. His stomach gave a tell-tale gurgle, proving Hermione correct.

"Thanks," Ron said, making room for Hermione to sit next to him on the bed. He kept the pillow in is lap however. "It has been a good six hours since dinner."

Hermione took her own éclair and began nibbling it while Ron wolfed down his first in two bites, grabbed a second éclair and a handful of chocolate biscuits, and were through them long before half of Hermione's pastry had been eaten.

"How you can eat like that and not weigh fifty stone is beyond me," she laughed, shaking her head at his ravenous appetite, "If I ate the way you do, I'd be huge."

"Mum always says you could use some fattening up," he replied with a grin. What impressed Hermione, though, was the fact that he chewed and swallowed his food before he spoke; something he rarely did in the past. "Besides, if you put on any weight, it'll just be more of you for me to oogle!"

"I think you mean 'ogle'," Hermione giggled, correcting him. She wasn't the kind of girl who giggled easily, but with Ron confessing that he ogled her, she felt as if her whole body wanted to giggle.

"Not the way I do it," Ron replied with a suggestive wink and a waggle of his eyebrows, "Anytime I slow down and let you walk in front of me, rest assured…I'm oogling you!"

"Ronald Weasley, you'd better hope I never catch you oogling my bum!" she said in mock outrage, smacking his forearm lightly.

"Your bum is perfect, Hernione," he said, taking a swig of his butterbeer, "It deserves to be oogled!"

Hermione blushed heavily and smiled demurely, looking away, "You don't really mean that…"

"'Course I do," Ron said emphatically, "Every bit of you is perfect. I figured you knew that already."

"Actually, Ron, I think I'm rather plain and unattractive," she said quietly, looking down at the floor.

"Rubbish!" he exclaimed, surprised that she could think so little of herself, "Hermione, you're beautiful! And even if nobody else notices, I do! Merlin knows I spend enough time watching you when you're not looking…"

There was a sudden clatter and crash as the tray of sweets and the two bottles of butterbeer fell to the hard, stone floor as Hermione launched herself at Ron, the pillow hiding his lap quickly joining their snacks. She kissed him hard, her hands immediately grasping for purchase within his fiery ginger locks.

Ron sat stunned for a second, but quickly caught up with what was going on around him. He eagerly returned her kiss, moaning into her mouth when her tongue sought entry into his. His hands gripped her waist for the briefest of seconds before sliding down to cup and squeeze the full, supple roundness of her bum through the material of her jeans.

Ever since they first entered the Room of Requirement with the intention of breaking up the party within, Hermione's body had been on fire. Initially, it was due to the Desirus Indomitus spell McLaggen had placed on the room, but ever since they laid claim to one another and confessed their true feelings to each other, the fire burning within the young, seventeen-year-old girl was natural and overwhelming.

She wanted Ron; judging by the hard, sensitive condition of her nipples and the very wet state of her knickers, she wanted him very, very badly. And judging by the very large bulge she could feel pressing up against her thigh, Ron wanted her as well.

Hermione felt as though she was no longer in control of her actions; her body was running completely on autopilot and she was just along for the ride. She shifted her body until Ron's hardness was pressed directly against her wet, aching center.

They each gasped from the intense pleasure and pulled away from the kiss. The gazed deeply into each other's eyes, seeing the desire they felt mirrored in their lover's eyes. Hermione straddled Ron's hips, rubbing herself against him and he growled at the back of his throat.

"'Mione!" Ron grabbed Hermione's hips and pulled her down harder against him, lifting his own hips off the bed to press his erection more firmly against her core, moaning at the pleasurable pressure.

"Ron!" Instinct directed Hermione to roll her hips and grind her aroused center into Ron for all she was worth, and that's exactly what she did. The pressure was exquisite and was hands-down the best thing she'd ever felt in her entire life.

Hermione moved back down to kiss him, missing the feeling of Ron's lips on her own, the feeling and taste of his tongue in her mouth. Ron desperately returned her kiss, his hands relinquishing their hold on her writhing hips to fist two handfuls of Hermione's bushy chestnut hair. She, too, had her hands full with hair, running her fingers over and through the soft ginger locks she had wanted to touch for so long.

The small, private room was filled with the sounds of passion – the wet smacking of lips and tongues against each other, the grunts, moans, and panting gasps of the two lovers grinding against each other – but suddenly those sounds changed.

A choked whimper escaped the back of Ron's throat and he pushed Hermione away, breaking the kiss and causing a confused, hurt expression to cross her face.

"Ron, what…?"

"Gotta stop…!" he grunted, trying to move his body out from under her, "Gotta stop…'m gonna…"

"Ron, what's wrong?"

Hermione didn't want to stop and she certainly didn't want to let Ron move away from her. She pushed down on his shoulders, trying to pin him to the bed and began grinding her bum even harder against his erection.

"'Mione, no don't—oh SHITE!"

Ron bucked up off the bed, his eyes screwing tightly shut as a strangled moan seemed to emerge from the depths of his very soul. He was sweating and his breathing was labored and his whole body trembled. And beneath her bum, Hermione could feel his erection moving…pulsing…twitching! It worried her.

"Ron…?" she said his name very softly, sounding almost afraid, "Are you alright?"

"Shite," his voice cracked and he looked away from her, the pink tint on his cheeks and ears telling her he was embarrassed, "I'm sorry, Hermione."

His voice sounded so sad and disappointed that it almost brought Hermione to tears.

"Ron, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Merlin, Hermione, do you honestly mean to tell me you don't know?" his voice was sarcastic and bitter. It reminded her of the way he got when they were fighting and he would make fun of her. She didn't like it.

"Ron, please tell me," she begged, "You're scaring me."

He looked at her finally; her eyes…her beautiful eyes…were full of worry. He reached up and caressed her cheek and she immediately pressed herself into his hand, loving the feel of him touching her.

"Don't be scared…it's nothing bad," he said, trying to reassure her, "It's just…if you had cast that spell on me, I'd be asleep now."

"What do you mean—oh! OH!" Hermione blushed deeply but there was a mischievous grin spreading across her lips…lips that were red and swollen from kissing him, "I suppose I should apologize, but I can't help feeling a bit proud of myself for making you…err…'come undone'."

"Undone or not," he laughed, more comfortable with the situation now that he knew she wasn't repulsed by what happened, "You definitely made me come."

"Ron!" she gasped, scandalized that he would say such a thing to her, "I can't believe you said that! OH!" Hermione suddenly jumped up off of Ron and the bed and started for the door.

"Where are you going?" Ron called after her, sitting up and feeling a bit lightheaded.

"You're very distracting, Ron," she said with a smile, "I forgot about the spell; I need to see if it's taken affect yet."

"Wait…I'll come with you," he said, struggling to get up.

Hermione smirked at Ron's unintentional double-entendre; she never would have thought of such a benign phrase as having a double meaning before tonight…but now everything was different.

When Ron finally managed to get off the bed without swooning from lack of blood to the brain, and padded over to join her, she aimed her wand at the front of his denims and cast a quick, wordless spell.

"What was that for?" he squeaked, not liking the idea of anyone firing spells at his bits.

"Just thought I'd clean up your…spill," she said, blushing a bit, "Since I did cause it."

"Thanks," he replied, blushing a bit himself, "I hate sticking to my pants."

She laughed and grabbed his hand, "Come on, Ronald…we've got a bunch of memories to un-make!"

Half-an-hour and many Obliviation spells later, Hermione and Ron were standing in the Room of Requirement surrounded by two dozen unconscious, naked Gryffindors who would never remember their night of spell-induced debauchery.

"That's it, then," Hermione said triumphantly, "Everyone has been Obliviated; they won't remember a thing about tonight."

"Good," Ron said grimly. He looked down at the sleeping form of Cormac McLaggen, using the breasts of a naked seventh year as a pillow.

Gritting his teeth, Ron reared back and kicked the seventh year boy hard in the stomach. McLaggen grunted and curled into a ball from the pain of the attack, but remained asleep thanks to the spell.

"Ron! Stop it!" Hermione screamed, running to his side, grabbing his arm and pulling him away roughly, "What are you doing?"

"I want to hurt him, Hermione," Ron said dully, his eyes still locked on McLaggen's unconscious form, "He deserves to be hurt…bad. You saw what his pervy spell did to her; he turned my baby sister into a scarlet woman!"

Hermione felt bad for Ron; after tonight, he would never be able to look at his little sister the same way again. Hermione knew…thanks to long nights filled with girl-talk at the Burrow, around Grimauld Place, and in the school dorms…that Ginny wasn't a sweet, innocent virgin, and hadn't been since she'd started dating Dean.

Of course, Ron didn't know that; he, no doubt thought tonight was her first time and that she wasn't thoroughly experienced with everything she had done under the influence of the Desirus Indomitus spell. Hermione was not about to disillusion him, since doing so would only hurt him. She cared too much for Ron to do that to him.

"Ron, why don't you go back into the other room and get dressed while I clean up in here a bit," Hermione suggested softly, rubbing her hand in soothing circles over his bare back.

"Yeah, alright," he agreed, sounding small and defeated. He moved away from Hermione without another word and entered the private chamber, closing the door quietly behind him.

Hermione immediately moved to Ginny's side and used her wand to clean the redheaded girl up. She knew Ron would never view Ginny the same, but Hermione, too, would have a hard time looking at Ginny and not seeing her enthusiastically pleasuring first Dean and then Harry.

Once Ginny was as clean as magic could get her, Hermione used her wand to Summon the girl's clothes and dressed her…though it was rather difficult with Ginny being unconscious and not the tiniest bit helpful.

When that was done, Hermione glanced around and sighed. "One down, fourteen to go," she said to herself. She was hit by the sudden realization of the flaws in their plan. Hermione had no desire to dress the remaining naked, sleeping Gryffindors after cleaning them of the various fluids covering their bodies. A further flaw reared its ugly head when Hermione tried to think of how to move fifteen sleeping students out of the Room of Requirement, down the corridor to Gryffindor Tower, through the portrait hole, and then up to their various dorms; all without getting caught.

"It's impossible!" Hermione cried.

"What's impossible?"

Hermione jumped at the sound of the voice behind her. She turned quickly to see Ron standing there, looking rather sheepish.

"Ron…you scared me!"

"Sorry," he said, blushing, "You were taking so long…I got lonely."

Getting Ginny cleaned up and dressed had obviously taken longer than Hermione thought. Still, the thought that Ron had missed her company and had come looking for her made her smile.

"I'm sorry I'm taking so long, Ron, I just don't know how were going to get everyone back to their dorms. That's what's impossible."

Ron looked around at the naked, sleeping students, purposely avoiding the redheaded girl lying in the corner of the room. Moving them all did seem impossible.

"Shame we can't just Apparate them back."

"Ron, I told you before," Hermione began, clucking her tongue at him, "You can't Apparate on school grounds; it says so in -…"

"Hogwarts, A History," Ron interrupted with a wry grin, "Yeah, I know."

Hermione blushed. She must have told him that a hundred times if she told him once. He remembered, though, and didn't tease her about it. That's all that mattered to her.

"I wasn't suggesting we try it," Ron explained, "We don't even know how to Apparate yet…but what about the house-elves?"

"What about them?" Hermione asked archly.

"Well they can Apparate inside the school," he continued his explanation, "And what about the way they move all the food from the kitchens to the tables in the Great Hall?"

"I see what you're saying, but do you think they'd help us?" she asked, "I'm not very popular with the house-elves, after all. They didn't appreciate my attempts to liberate them."

"You're popular with Dobby," Ron said with a grin, "Merlin knows he's always keen to help out Harry Potter and his friends."

Hermione smiled at Ron; a genuine, appreciative smile. He could have chosen to tease her about the failure of her Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare (SPEW), but instead he was kind and supportive. She was definitely liking the new direction their relationship was heading.

"I'd hate to ask Dobby for help," she said, "But under the circumstances…"

Ron nodded, and on the count of three, the two teens yelled the house-elf's name together.


There was a sudden crack echoing throughout the room and a short little creature appeared with floppy, bat-like ears, bulging green tennis-ball-sized eyes, and a long, thin nose. He was dressed in an old, shrunken maroon jumper and a pair of mismatched socks.

"Harry Potter's Wheezy and Hermy!" Dobby exclaimed in his high-pitched voice, jumping up and down in excitement, "What can Dobby do for the most loyal and true friends of the Great Harry Potter?"

"We need a favor, Dobby," Ron said, smiling brightly at the accommodating house-elf.

"Anything for Harry Potter's Wheezy!" Dobby gushed, "Anything at all!"

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look and a smile.

In short order and in no small part thanks to Dobby and his house-elf magic, the unconscious Gryffindors had been cleaned up, dressed, and moved en masse to their individual beds through the use of house-elf Apparition. The excitable house-elf was more than happy to help, especially when saw that one of the students he was helping get to bed was the Great Harry Potter himself!

Ron paid Dobby for his services by giving him the very socks off his large, pale, freckled feet. The elf was, of course, extremely grateful to "Harry Potter's bestest Wheezy-Wheezy", despite the fact that the socks were identical instead of a 'proper', mismatched pair.

When Dobby finally left, after singing Ron's praises over-and-over and embarrassing the redhead greatly, Ron turned to find Hermione gazing at him with a strange look in her eyes and an even stranger smile on her lips.

"What?" Ron asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable with her scrutiny.

"That was really sweet of you," Hermione said, taking a step closer to him, "Dobby would have helped us without payment, but you gave him your socks anyway."

"Well, it wasn't money or anything," Ron replied, shrugging, "But Dobby likes socks; they're his favorite. Besides, I didn't think you'd want me asking Dobby for help without giving him some form of payment."

"Under the circumstances," Hermione sighed, "I think I'd have made an exception…just this once, mind you."

"Well, as Treasurer for Ess-Pee-Ee-Double-yew," Ron said, grinning lopsidedly as he spelled out the organization's initials instead of calling it 'spew' for the first time he could ever remember, "I have a responsibility to promote the best interests of house-elves everywhere…and that includes paying free-elves for services rendered."

Hermione beamed at him. She knew he probably didn't really believe what he had just said, but the fact remained that he did pay Dobby for his help and he was going out of his way to try and make her happy. Oh, how she wanted him right now.

She stepped up to him, put her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. He kissed her back and within seconds, they were swept up in a frantic snogging session where neither one could seem to get enough of the other.

Several minutes passed before Hermione pulled away from Ron, gasping for breath. Her face was red and her hair was a mess from Ron's fingers moving through it. The shirt she wore – Ron's shirt – was unbuttoned and wide-open, exposing her heaving breasts and the white bra that encased them. She didn't recall Ron opening the shirt, but she definitely remembered his hands on her nearly-bare breasts.

"Oh, Ron," she cooed, when she was finally sure that her voice wouldn't fail her, "I love you so much. Something tells me I'm going to look back on this night as the best night of my life…at least for a long time to come."

Hermione smiled at Ron, and although he smiled back, it didn't reach his eyes. In fact, his deep blue eyes seemed to be clouded and troubled.

"Ron…what is it? What's wrong?" she asked, reaching out for him. When Ron backed up out of her reach and turned away from her, Hermione's stomach sank and she immediately felt tears prick her eyes. "Ron…?"

Her voice came out as a choked sob and he visibly stiffened at the sound. When he finally turned back to face her, he couldn't look her in the eye.

"Hermione…I need you to do something for me," Ron said, his voice quiet and emotionless.

"Anything," Hermione replied quickly, reaching out and taking his hand. He didn't pull away, but he still wouldn't look at her, "Tell me what you want, Ron, and I'll do it! Anything at all!"

"I need you to Obliviate me." Ron looked up at her and his eyes were full of pain and desperation, as if this were the hardest decision he'd ever had to make.

"What?" she gasped, unable to believe what he was asking of her.

"I can't take it, Hermione," he said, his voice cracking, "I can't face my little sister anymore. I keep picturing what she was doing…what she was having done to her! I can't even imagine facing Harry again, either…not after what I saw."

"The spell made them do that, Ron," Hermione said, unable to believe how quickly her happiness was turning into pain and sorrow, "The spell made all of them act that way. But they won't even remember acting that way now."

"No…they get to forget," Ron said bitterly, "They get to go on with their lives like nothing happened, but I…we…have to remember every bit of it. I don't want to remember!"

"Ron, you don't understand," Hermione sobbed desperately, "I'm not skilled enough with memory charms to remove selected pieces of your memory. When I Obliviated the others, I removed the entire night from their memory…they won't remember anything that happened after dinner in the Great Hall."

"That's fine," Ron nodded, not seeming to get her point.

"Ron…you'll forget everything about tonight!" she cried, trembling, "Our patrol…the things we talked about…what we did when we entered the Room of Requirement and McLaggen's spell started affecting us…what we confessed to each other in the private room…you'll forget all of it! We'd go back to being just friends instead of…whatever…we are now!"

"I know," he said, looking down at his feet, guilt washing over him, "You'd remember, though. You'd know that I love you and I want you. You could tell me how you feel…get me to confess again."

"I don't think I could do that, Ron," she said, her voice sounding small and sad, "What happened tonight…the unique set of circumstances that led us to admit our feelings for each other…I can't recreate that."

"No, you can't," he admitted, "But you know I love you now…you didn't before. That should give you the courage to tell me how you feel."

"You're asking too much of me, Ron," she sobbed, "I can't just blurt that out, not without knowing for certain how you'd react."

"You know how I'll react, Hermione!" he countered, "I'll tell you I love you, too!"

"What if something goes wrong?" she asked, grasping desperately at the chance she could convince him not to go through with this, "What if…what if some other girl starts snogging you before I have a chance to tell you?"

He snorted derisively at the thought of someone else wanting to snog him. "Hermione, what in the name of Merlin could drive me to snog some other girl when you and I have a date next week?"

"We could have a row!" she suggested since it wasn't unheard of for the two of them to get into a real ripper of an argument, "We could have a nasty row and you could…seek solace…in the arms…and lips…of another girl!"

"Listen to yourself, Hermione," Ron laughed, "Do you know how bad you'd have to hurt me for me to 'seek solace' in some other girl?"

"We've had nasty rows before, Ron," Hermione reminded him, "And they've led to us not talking for months. Remember Third Year? Please don't ask me to do this, Ron; not now…not when we've come so far…not when we're so close!"

"Hermione, please…" Ron stepped up and took her in his arms, "We'll get close again…even closer than we are now. I promise!"

"Don't," Hermione said, pulling away from him, "Don't make promises that you don't know that you can keep."

"I can keep this one, Hermione," he replied emphatically, trying his best to convince her, "Obliviate me and then as soon as you're done, tell me you love me! Everything will work out fine!"

Hermione was unconvinced and tears poured from her eyes. She knew something would go wrong; it always did. There was always something that came along to prevent them from getting together…whether it was a fight between a cat and a rat, a Bulgarian Seeker, or Ron's unwillingness to stand up to his brothers when they broke the rules.

She knew tonight was a perfect storm…a confluence of bizarre events that pushed them together for once instead of pulling them apart. Hermione knew, in her heart-of-hearts, that it would take some earth-shattering event to push them together again after tonight. She could almost picture them on the field of battle…the final battle…finally admitting their feelings lest they die with anything unsaid between them.

She would not be able to make it. Everything she wanted was slipping between her fingers. She would need something to tide her over, something to remember Ron by until the next perfect storm drew them together.

"Ron," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "If I do this for you…there's something I want you to do for me, first."

"Anything, luv," he said with a smile, "Just name it."

Hermione looked up at him, her jaw set determinedly, her eyes full of conflicting emotions. She took a deep breath and when she spoke her voice was firm and unwavering.

"Make love to me."