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SIYE Time:13:59 on 28th March 2024
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Snow Angels
By deenas

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Category: Post-HBP
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley
Genres: Fluff
Warnings: Sexual Situations
Story is Complete
Rating: G
Reviews: 11
Summary: It's New Year's Eve and in the middle of a snowball fight, something magical happens between Ron and Hermone (and we're not talkin' spells or charms, folks...).
Hitcount: Story Total: 5983







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December 31st, 4:33 p.m.

“What did you say?” Hermione asked Ron. She was lying in the snow with Ron sprawled over the top of her. There was melting snow in the waistband of her jeans and her foot was soaking wet after her shoe fell off as she tumbled to the ground.

“You heard me. Now answer the question,” insisted Ron, his smile growing wider by the second.

She glanced over at her shoulder at Harry and Ginny. They would be no help. They were in their own little world, making snow angels.

“Don’t look at them. They didn’t hear me. That was for your ears only.” He nestled his lips against her neck, warming the skin with light kisses.

“I’d answer if I know what you said.” Her mind was racing a mile a minute; she knew what he said, but he really couldn’t have, could he? She swallowed hard and looked up into his aqua eyes, the eyes that possessed her very soul. “Ron?” It was barely a whisper.

“Yes, Hermione?” He never stopped looking at her, never stopped hovering those luscious lips a mere millimeter away from hers. His breath was hot on her lips, begging her to kiss him. He licked his lips, knowing what that did to her, and asked her for a second time, “Will you marry me?”

~*~


Decem ber 31st, 8:02 a.m.

New Year’s Eve dawned like any other day, but the air smelled different. It smelled, well, good. She looked around, remembered she and Ron were staying at Harry’s house for the holiday, and discovered that Ron was no longer in bed with her. He never wakes up before me. Getting up out of bed, she pulled on her fluffy blue, albeit ancient, dressing gown over her tank top and flannel pants and padded out the door to investigate the smells that wafted up from the kitchen, three floors below. Coffee. Cinnamon rolls. Yummy.

At the landing on the first floor, she saw that Ginny and Harry’s door was open and she walked over and poked her head in. Ginny was sitting in a chair in front of the fireplace wearing what looked like one of Harry’s old Gryffindor Quidditch jerseys.

“Morning!” Ginny chimed. “Harry told me to stay up here until he came for me. I think you’re supposed to stay away from the kitchen, too.” She set her book on the table next to the chair.

“What are they doing down there? Smells divine, whatever it is.” She took the chair next to Ginny and curled her legs underneath her. “How long have you been up?”

“For about an hour,” she replied. “Harry stopped me right before I got into the hallway, and dragged me back here.” She was sporting a telltale smile on her face.

“I can just about imagine,” Hermione replied, rolling her eyes. “Is that the nightdress he gave you for Christmas?” Hermione gestured toward the pool of white silk and lace lying on the floor.

“Lovely gift, isn’t it?”

“Is it ever actually on longer than ten minutes, Ginny?’ Hermione teased.

“I think it was eleven last night. But this morning it was only five.”

Hermione clucked at her. “Remember when Harry used to tease Ron and me about being rabbits?” Ginny started to giggle. “Well, I think you two have taken on that label now. Perhaps you should have got engaged years ago.” The both of them started laughing. They turned toward the door as Harry cleared his throat.

“Making fun of me so early in the morning? Not nice at all, my friend. Come on, breakfast’s ready.” He strolled over to Ginny, took her hand, helping her up from the chair and circling his arms around her waist, and gave her a quick kiss. “You know, that jersey never looked that good on me.” His hands began to roam, making Hermione feel a tad out of place.

“You two, I swear, are ten times worse than we ever were.” Hermione turned around and shook her head as she laughed. As she left the room, she shut the door behind her.

The smell of cinnamon and coffee grew stronger as she went down the stairs into the kitchen. Ron was sitting in a rocking chair reading the morning paper and she noticed he was squinting again. He should really get his eyes checked. She had mentioned it to him several times before only to aggravate him and cause him to launch into speech number thirty-five, the “Quidditch-Keepers-Don’t-Wear-Glasses” speech. Hermione’s speech number seventy-two, the “Maybe-You-Should-Stop-Playing-Quidditch -Then-Ronald” speech, of course, soon followed. She smiled at him despite herself and sat down on his lap, crushing the newspaper underneath her.

“Morning. Sleep well?” Ron asked, nibbling on her earlobe.

“I suppose. What smells so good?” She glanced back over at the table, a few feet away. “Did you help?”

“The last time he let me help was the day I moved out and Ginny moved in. Something about keeping his domestic tranquility in place.” He glanced toward the stairs. “Where is he?” Hermione gave him a look that spoke volumes. “Oh don’t tell me! Again?”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Ron. So why don’t we start on breakfast before those scrumptious-smelling rolls get cold?” She stepped over to the table, poured herself some coffee, and put a roll on a plate. “These are good! Harry made these? From scratch?” Ron nodded. The roll melted in her mouth and she had to catch the icing on her finger before it fell. “Want some?” She reached her finger out to Ron, and he walked over, taking the finger in his mouth and sucking off the white icing.

“Mmmm. That’s good.” He bent down to her and planted a heated kiss on her mouth. The roll lay forgotten on the table as she reached up to Ron, wrapping her arms around him, bringing him closer to her. “But this is even better.”

He lifted her in his strong arms, took her place on the chair, and placed her softly on his lap, kissing her neck with tiny kisses that stirred her to the core. She turned and sat astride him, rocking against his hips, bringing a low moan from his throat. He returned his mouth to hers and kissed her softly, almost daintily, knowing how much it drove her crazy. His hands rested on her hips as she continued to move against him.

“Ron.” Her face felt flushed and she was extremely warm.

“Hermione.” He stared at her face with wide eyes. “Happy New Year.”

She blinked and broke eye contact and giggled at him. “Silly. That’s not for another fourteen hours.”

“Well, it has to be somewhere in the world, right?”

“I don’t know...” Another kiss interrupted her thoughts. His hands moved from her hips to her face and he held her there as he made love to her mouth with his lips and tongue. All thoughts of breakfast disappeared while he worked his magic.

“Excuse me,” said Harry, breaking the silence, “for walking into my own kitchen.”

Ron looked up at Harry and Ginny, who were both dressed, much to his surprise. “Well this sure brings back memories.” Hermione laid her head on his shoulder, burying herself under her hair. “So what were you two up to?”

“Nothing. Even I can’t do anything in five minutes, Ron.” Harry returned the smile. “Are those rolls still warm?” He pulled Ginny over to the table, pulled out a chair for her, and poured her some coffee, black, just the way she liked it. Sitting down next to her, he summoned the fruit bowl from the worktop and began to peel an orange.

“You mean you two weren’t…?” Ron turned red as the question flew from his mouth.

“No,” Ginny explained. “We took care of THAT earlier this morning, Ron.” She drank her coffee with a smile on her face.

“Thanks. That was just too much information.” Ron poured his own cup of coffee and grabbed a roll.

~*~


December 31st, 4:30 p.m.

Fluffy white snow covered the garden walk behind Harry’s house softening the hard edges of the stone beneath it. The afternoon sun glistened off the surface of the new snow, making the day seem brighter than it actually was. The snow had a magical pull over the four, causing them to revert to their younger days and engage in a raucous snowball fight.

“Oh, I’ll get you for that one, Potter!” shouted Ron as he brushed the cold snow away from his face. He scooped up some snow and formed a Quaffle-sized mound, preparing to flatten Harry with it. He was ready to pounce when another snowball hit him, courtesy of his sister.

“Don’t you dare maim him, Ronald! I have a wedding in four months!” She laughed as she threw another at him.

“How could I forget, Gin?” he retorted. “Between talk of flowers, dresses, dress robes and decorations, I think I can remember your bleeding wedding.” Ron was stalking Hermione with the huge snowball now, determined to push it down her back. She was looking at the snow covering the branches of the trees when he reached up and pulled back her coat and jumper, depositing the snow against her warm skin.

“Ron!” She swung around, her wand drawn, ready to hex him into next year. “What the devil was that for?”

“Language, Granger. You kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?” He gripped her to him, trying to keep her from wiggling away. I don’t want to be her boyfriend anymore. The thought thrilled and shocked him all the same. I want what they have. He quickly looked at Harry and Ginny as they made snow angels, telling each other nothing and everything with a single look. The sun danced off Ginny’s ring in just the right way, making Ron’s decision for him. He leaned over and kissed Hermione with nine years worth of kisses. Losing their footing, they tumbled to the ground in a heap of coats, hats and snow.

“Marry me, Hermione.” He lay across her, brushing the snow off her face with his lips. He looked at her again.

“What did you say?” Her eyes were wide. She heard me.

“You heard me. Now answer the question,” insisted Ron, his smile growing wider by the second.

She glanced over at her shoulder at Harry and Ginny, and he followed her gaze. Their snow angels became increasingly X-rated and all he could do was shake his head.

“Don’t look at them. They didn’t hear me. That was for your ears only.” He nestled his lips against her neck, warming the skin with light kisses.

“I’d answer if I knew what you said.” Her voice sounded panicky. He couldn’t help but smile even wider. And she says I’m thick. He stared down at her coffee-coloured eyes, losing himself in the depth of love he had for her.

“Ron?” It was barely a whisper.

“Yes, Hermione?” He never stopped looking at her, barely touching his lips to hers. He licked his lips, knowing what that did to her, and asked her for a second time, “Will you marry me?”

A single tear trickled down her face and onto her shoulder. Her lip started to quiver. “Really?” More tears fell down her face.

“Really, really.” He got off her and sat back in the wet snow. She sat next to him, held his hand in hers, and brought it to her lips, warming his cold skin with her kisses.

“I could think of nothing better than to spend my life with you.” Their lips met halfway, kissing each other as if they were the only two people in the world. It started to snow again, perfect, little, sparkly flakes that fell as delicately as feathers floating through the air. The perfect beginning to a new year and to a new life.

Reviews 11
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