Four
Hermione
"You didn't have to fake it for my benefit, 'Mione."
She feels his breath, warm and heavy on her neck. It sends a shiver down her spine, straight to her core.
"Not that I'm complaining."
A long, slender forearm wraps around her to grab the mug she'd poured for him, pinning her to the counter. She licks her lips, suddenly parched.
"Surprised you weren't focused on your current company, George."
She can feel him tense up behind her. Graceful fingers graze her hip as she hears him sip his tea.
"So it was for my benefit," he chuckles quietly in her ear.
Those same fingers trace their way slowly across her stomach, lingering as he speaks.
"Tell me what you want, Hermione."
"Hermione? Helloooo?"
She blinks, looking over to her right, where Ginny is waving a brightly wrapped package in her face.
"This one's for you, it's from George."
At the mention of his name, she flits her eyes in his direction. He shoots her a lopsided grin, gesturing at the package with his chin.
"Figured I'd put some miles on your old one at this point."
She raises an eyebrow and slowly unwraps the bundle, revealing a gorgeous white ceramic kettle. She smiles softly, examining the carefully painted violets dotting the sides.
"Thank you, it's beautiful."
She raises her gaze to meet his, and something in his eyes makes her heart race.
George
Can she feel his heart racing through his shirt? Has he crossed a line?
His hand pauses as he waits for her answer with baited breath. He takes a slow sip of his tea, leaning forward after to repeat himself.
"I said, tell me what you want."
The sound of her shaky breathing sends a flush across his chest. He thumbs the hem of her nightshirt.
"What about Angelina?"
He shakes his head with a smirk, pressing his chest closer into her back, murmuring.
"Nothing happened, jealous little witch. It could have, though, yet I can't get the thought of you out of my head. The way your moans sounded, coming up through the floorboards. The god damned dreams you caused. You wanted me to hear you. I heard you. Now, tell me what you want."
He can feel her shaking, the vibrations coursing through him as he presses up against her. Her voice comes out in a breathy whisper.
"You. I want you."
The smile on her face as she looks at her gift makes his chest ache. He'd gone into London a few days before to check on the shop, and swung through the muggle part of the city to find her a kettle.
He watches her inspect it, cradling the object gently in her palms. She looks back up at him and he swears he can feel little arcs of magic fly between them.
Harry nudging his shoulder causes him to finally look away, sucked into a conversation about quidditch with the young Auror and Angelina.
"George?"
He head snaps up, meeting her gaze. His heart thunders in his ears at the sound of his name on her lips.
Hermione
"George?"
His hand is paused on her stomach, his breath warm against her neck as he speaks.
"What about Ron?"
She feels an uncomfortable pull in her chest, the confession finally crawling from her throat.
"I can't keep doing this to him. I'm just trying to get through this bloody holiday before I break it off."
She's pulled back into his chest and leans her head back against his shoulder.
"I should ask you the same, what about Ron?"
She can feel the rumble through her back as he murmurs.
"He doesn't need to know."
She turns in his arms, back pressing into the counter as she leans to look up at him. He brings a hand up to brush a curl from her eyes while he speaks.
"You're the only one to make me feel anything for months. I'm not denying myself that, even if Ronald is still temporarily an issue."
He bends slightly, his lips an inch from hers.
"Tell me you want this."
The way his eyes bore into her makes her flush. She clears her throat.
"Did you want to do the whole..."
She gestures to her ear and sees his hand drift to the gauze wrapping his own as he nods.
She stands, walking toward the kitchen. He follows at an easy pace and sits at the table. Tying her hair up, she examines the gauze.
"Any pain? Weird tingles, numbness?"
He shakes his head. Gently, she begins removing the gauze, smiling softly.
"Well, you've got an ear. We can figure out getting it to work later."
One of his hands snakes around her waist, pulling her closer.
"Thank you, Hermione."
She steeles herself with a deep breath before taking a step back.
"Someone might come in."
A flush spreads across her cheeks.
George
"Molly could wander in with Teddy any time now."
He chuckles at her anxiety.
"That wasn't the question, 'Mione. Do you want this?"
His lips barely ghost against her own, an invitation. She returns the kiss softly, pressing a hand against his chest.
"Granger..." His voice is a low rumble of a warning. She's got to say yes. He has to hear it.
His fingertips trace her jaw softly, eyes locked onto hers. She pauses before answering.
"I want this."
He exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding. One of his hands slips into hers, lacing their fingers together.
"Merlin, if Angelina weren't here right now."
He grins down at her.
"I have an idea."
He studies her. That adorable flush has started spreading across her cheeks, and he knows she's thinking about the other day.
"You're killing me here, you know that?"
He reaches for her hand, squeezing it lightly before dropping it and standing.
"Come on, let's get the big reveal over with."
The both wander back into the den, packed with Weasleys, Angelina and Harry. He claps his hands to get everyone's attention.
"Oy! Only doing this once, but figured 'Mione should get her due praise."
He smirks down at her, watching her blush again, before pulling his hair back to reveal his new ear. Among the chorus of congratulations and accolades for Hermione, a sob cuts through the den.
His head whips to the side, where Molly's hand is cemented to her mouth, tears in her eyes.
Molly
Fred.
Her head rings as she looks at George. With his hair pulled back, without the scar, it was practically a ghost come to life. She feels an arm wrap around her shoulders as Arthur bends down to whisper.
"I know, Molly. I know."
She shakes her head, blinking the tears from her eyes as understanding dawns on George's face. He shakes his hair back out, covering the ear. His moment of joy is replaced by the same look she's seen on his face these last seven months. Her heart sinks.
George
He knows what that look means. Fred. That's all she'd ever see again in her grief. George avoids Molly, knowing that the mere sight of him forces her to think of her dead son.
Slinking back down into his chair, his attention is pulled across the room as Ron stands, clearing his throat.
"Well, since we're all celebrating Hermione, might as well do this now."
He watches his little brother pull a small velvet box from his pocket.
Fuck.
He sees the moment Hermione realizes what's happening, the panic taking hold on her face.
She doesn't want this. Fuck.
Ron drops to one knee.
Hermione
"Where are we going?"
She giggles quietly, allowing him to drag her up the stairs. They pass the bedrooms, ducking into the third floor bathroom. He pulls her in for another kiss.
"We can stop at any time, you know."
Her hands shake as she looks up at him, grabbing her wand and casting a silencing charm before locking the door. He grins, his thumb toying with the hem of her nightshirt again.
"Tell me you want this, 'Mione."
Her heart skips a beat at the sound of her name on his lips. She peels off the oversized tee, tossing it into a hamper in the corner with a grin before starting the shower.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted this."
In a flurry of discarded clothing, longing stares and bitten lips, they climb into the shower. Hot water washes over them as they gently run their hands down one another's bodies. She frowns, eyebrows knit together as her fingers trace over his protruding ribs, but is distracted when he dips her back for another kiss.
Ron is on one knee, gazing up at her with a lovesick expression that makes her sick to her stomach.
"Ronald, wait."
Her voice shakes. She stands, looking down at him.
"I can't....I..."
She looks around at a sea of confused faces, then locks eyes with George, the only one that looks truly concerned. He shakes his head at her.
Don't say yes.
"I need some air."
She walks through the den quickly, summoning a coat as she slips her boots on and rushes to the back porch. Sinking onto the steps, she sighs and rests her head in her hands.
The door opens, then closes as someone stands behind her.
"You're in my spot."
She glances up at the voice, her voice trembling as she scoots over.
"Wouldn't want that."
George sits beside her, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. She sighs again, running a hand through the curls that have fallen from her bun.
"Is he pissed?"
She looks over at him as he takes a drag.
"He's gone."
George
She tastes like mint and honey. He deepens the kiss, parting her lips with his own. His teeth gently nip her bottom lip before he runs his tongue across the bite, groaning into her mouth.
"Merlin, Hermione."
His hands grip her waist, pulling her closer to him until their bodies are pressed against one another. She trails her fingertips down his stomach before gently grabbing him and stroking slowly. His hold on her tightens with a sharp gasp. He tilts her chin up with a knuckle to meet his gaze, his voice hoarse as he speaks.
"Keep that up, and we won't make it to the fun part."
She giggles softly, the sound sending a jolt straight to his core as he hardens in her hand. Without warning, he lifts her, backing her up against the shower wall as she wraps her legs around his waist. He presses a kiss to her neck, murmuring into her skin.
"I've never in my life wanted something as badly as this, 'Mione. As badly as I want you."
Her quiet moans drive him wild as he carefully pushes himself into her, holding her tightly by the hips. She clings to him, her back arching off the shower wall. They gently rock together for a moment as she adjusts, eyes closed. She leans her head forward, capturing his mouth with hers, whispering.
"I need you."
Ron had stormed off into the fireplace as soon as Hermione left the room. The rest of the family went into an uproar, gossiping amongst themselves.
As he pulls on his cigarette, he assesses her. Curly tendrils frame her face, having fallen from when she tied them up earlier. No tears, she just seems stunned. He takes another drag.
"You want to get out of here?"
She looks over at him and nods quietly. He returns the gesture, then stands, offering his hand.
"Come on."
He helps her up, lacing his fingers between hers before pulling her into a hug. One hand traces up her spine into her hair, holding her tight to him as they revolve quickly, apparating into a dark room. He lets her go, walking over to a dusty fireplace, kneeling, and uses his wand to start a fire.
She stands in the center of the room, looking around.
"George, where are we?"
He swallows, his mouth dry.
"The flat above the shop. Sorry for the mess, I haven't been here since..."
He shakes his head, focusing on the fire for a moment to collect himself as he stands, then turns to her.
"You okay?"
Hermione
"Is this okay?"
She chuckles at the question, wrapping her thighs tighter around his waist, her back pressed to the cold tile of the shower wall.
"More than okay."
She kisses him again as her breath becomes shaky, then rests her head on his shoulder, moaning softly into his ear.
"Merlin, George, please don't stop."
His chest rumbles as he laughs quietly, his fingers digging into her hips.
"Not on your life, angel."
The nickname sends her reeling. She lifts her head, locking eyes with him as she bites her lip. Unwrapping one hand from around his neck, she traces her fingertips down her body, finding her clit and rubbing slowly. Her eyes close and she hears him groan an inch from her ear.
"Merlin, I could watch you do that all day."
Her head leans back against the shower wall as she builds closer and closer to her climax, whispering his name.
"Please, George. Faster? Please? I'm so close."
He rocks into her faster, leaning forward to kiss her deeply. His tongue snakes behind her lips, dancing with her own. She can feel him shaking from the effort and wills him to hold on for just a little longer. Like a wave breaking, she gasps, wrapping herself around him as he thrusts into her harder once, twice, and then a final time, climaxing with a moan.
"Gods above, Hermione."
She sighs.
I shouldn't be okay, but I am.
"I don't know. I think...I think I'm relieved it's over."
She eyes him from across the room, a thought popping into her head.
"You didn't know he was planning to propose, did you?"
He snorts, running a hand through his copper hair.
"If I knew, I'd have warned you, 'Mione. I swear."
As he crosses the room to stand in front of her, she reaches a hand out to take his, brushing her thumb across his knuckles.
"We haven't really been alone since-"
"Since we fucked," he interrupts her, pulling her into his chest and tracing his fingertips across her jaw. She stares up into his hazel eyes, her other hand resting on his hip.
"Right, since we...fucked."
Her voice is a soft murmur as she leans up, brushing her lips against his softly. His hand slides into her hair as they kiss, tugging lightly at her curls. He murmurs quietly against her lips.
"Let's get you settled in. I have a feeling you're not keen on returning to the Burrow right now?"
She laughs, resting her hands on his shoulders.
"Honestly, I could go for a shower."