Chapter Text
Ron Weasley had nothing to lose. He was single and didn’t have tons of money, although working at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes helped. “A little lost,” Ron had heard Percy describe him to Charlie at a recent family gathering. Plus, squishing in a tiny flat with George didn’t have all the charm it had had, three years ago when he’d moved out of the Burrow. Every time he had to see George and Angelina smile and laugh, he felt lonelier. It stung.
Sitting on a bench waiting for another Muggle bus, he sighed. Everyone else seemed to be together with someone, and everyone else had some project or work occupying them.
Harry was busy with Auror work. Ron had decided long ago, he was never going to go into Auror training with Harry, that wasn’t really his style. Even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t move so fluidly anymore; the upper part of his left arm had been Splinched away back when the two of them were looking for horcruxes. At least You Know Who was dead, there was that!
He pulled out the chart from his back pocket. Harry had made it for him, explaining Muggle money. How much would it cost to take another bus, and where did he want to go now?
He sighed, staring around. What to do now? It was funny watching the Muggle children play with their little dinosaur toys and teddies in the park. He also liked trying out strange Muggle drinks, both alcoholic and otherwise. One of his favorite things had been watching the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace, where the Queen of England lived (but for some reason she didn’t rule, instead a Prime Minister did. But then why was there a queen? This confused Ron).
Another favorite of his was the Tower of London and finding out about all the awful ways Muggle rulers had killed each other. Honestly, it was pretty entertaining. Who knew Muggles could be so gruesome? They sure had a penchant for blood! Ron personally found the bloodless death of Avada Kedavra more chilling but had to hand it to them: Muggles were creative as fuck with their weapons and torture devices.
But as he’d gone from one tourist trap to another, spending an exorbitant amount of his Muggle money on snacks, one thing kept sticking out to him, over and over: He was alone. All of these activities he was doing would be way more fun with someone! And not just any someone; a companion, a partner.
Seeing all the witches and wizards from school pair up, one by one, some even having kids, getting their own houses – even, Ron had to admit, seeing Harry so happy with his sister – it made it all the more painful to be alone. Bloody hell, here he was wandering Muggle London for entertainment! What kind of wizard in their right mind did that? A mad one, that’s who!! Maybe Percy was right about him being a little lost.
Ron kicked at a puddle of rain on the ground. "Ugh!” Where could he go to clean up and find something else new and interesting to do? He was bored! Merlin, this whole thing was bonkers. But he wasn’t ready to go home just yet. And even if it was mad, he didn’t want to look like a madman. So he needed to find a loo to wash up.
Sighing, Ron stood up and looked around him. Across the street was a park where children played Pretend and men played football. Football looked fun, but nowhere near as good as Quidditch. Behind him, a huge street of shops had made way for a hospital, bars, and – oh! Right behind him there was a library. A nice quiet place to visit the loo.
Ron looked up at the huge, red brick building with two gray pillars on either side of the entrance. “Blimey, they sure have ugly architecture, though,” he said. He picked up the huge multi-pocket backpack – a favorite of all the Muggle items he’d bought recently. Slowly he approached the library.
Oh no, not one of these! The door in front of him was glass, but it was the kind that moved around in a circle, with...what was it again? Ekel...Elek...Elektrikitty, yeah. Or was it Elektru City? Ron could never get all the letters together quite right.
He watched other people enter. As soon as a lady and her little girl approached the glass door, it whirred open. They voluntarily walked into a tiny, creepy entry room and walked inward, towards the library. The glass circular doors whirred again, moving, and they entered the library. There was only a brief moment in the creepy little room. Couldn’t be so bad, right?
(But Ron distinctly remembered when he’d tried going up a moving black staircase that was too different than the Hogwarts’ staircases, for him. He’d tripped and fallen, upsetting a whole row of people behind him, like a dominos set. He’d had to get out of there quick before the Muggle bobbies got him).
He approached the glass door. It whirred, opening for him. Cringing, Ron stepped in past the door. With another awful, buzzing sound, it closed behind him. Ok, now he had move. To the right or left? And why did all the Muggle inventions have to make horrible buzzing sounds? Before he could move, suddenly the door inside the circle moved up behind him. Ron swore as it smashed right into him, pushing him along. If he didn’t move quickly, he might get caught up in it!
He rushed forward, and then sighed in relief as the other side of the circular door whirred to let him enter. The library! He had gotten in! He repressed a whoop of triumph and edged away from the door. He looked around for a minute.
A couple ladies stood behind a help desk, and the shelves here reached up almost to the ceiling. The books were oddly quiet, though, and didn’t hiss or tremble. They were as quiet as the dead. There was a huge staircase in the middle of the big room leading up to the second floor, with more floors above that.
It smelled musty, and the books were in English, at least. A regular old library. Ron liked it, honestly. Funny how Muggle libraries were similar to wizarding ones; he almost felt at home here, and less like an alien.
“That was close,” a woman’s voice said behind him. Ron turned around. Up on a high, high bit of metal, a singular moving staircase with wheels, a woman was shelving books. Ron moved around the stairs so that he could look up at her.
“Pardon, er - What was that?” He asked. From this far below, all he could see was a bushy head of brown hair. He wiped his face of the muddy water as best he could, not wanting to look like a madman.
“I saw you with the doors. You’re almost as clumsy as me.”
Ron opened his mouth to automatically protest that he was NOT clumsy, but then the librarian turned around, and he really got a good look at her. His mouth stayed open as she started to descend the metal stairs.
Bloody hell. She wore a tight, white collared shirt, and her breasts seemed almost ready to burst from it. Was that a sliver of pale skin he could see, revealed past the buttons? The curves just kept on, from her slender waist down to her wide hips, and – oh, Merlin! She turned around to grab one last book, and he bit back some sound as he saw that she had a lovely arse. He liked her long hair, even if it was bushy; the little hairtie she had on it was strained to contain it all.
For some reason, when her soft brown eyes looked down at him, she smiled. This made a lightning bolt go off inside of Ron. Sure, she had bucky big front teeth, and she’d said she was clumsy, but he didn’t think he’d ever met someone he’d been so instantly attracted to.
“I, I’m not clumsy,” he stammered, finally finding words in his head. “I’m just -”
But suddenly, out of nowhere, a ton of books from the shelf burst off, like birds taking flight. With a yelp, the librarian skidded down the stairs, almost falling as her heels sparked against the metal.
With an “oomph!” she landed, right in Ron’s arms. If he hadn’t been there at the end of the stairs, she would have certainly fallen flat on her face.
Ron grinned as he got to hold this gorgeous woman. Mmm, she was so warm, and her thick dark curls tickled the end of his nose. Against his volition, he sneezed, and the woman pulled away. Shit, had he sneezed on her?
He backed off to let her get away from the stairs, and she laughed up at him. “See what I mean? I’m clumsy. And you are...?”
He caught the name tag on her breast, Hermione , and then looked away so he wouldn’t stare.
“I’m not clumsy. What I am is...” Strong , he wanted to say, decent at Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts, oh and my best friend is Harry Potter, yes that one who saved the world, you know? But...she was a Muggle.
He sighed and proffered forth a hand. “My name is Ron.”
Her eyebrows went down, and she frowned. “Not so loud!” Oops, he’d forgotten his library voice. She put a finger to her lips, and Ron just stared for a second, lost in the thought of kissing her.
“Um. You’re right,” he whispered. He scratched his head, looking down. “Sorry. Er. Can I help you pick up those books?”
She sighed, turning towards them. “Sure.”
As he stacked them, Hermione reached out to a book trolley and started placing the piles of books on it. “So,” she said, “You look new to the area. What brings you here?”
“Well. Er.” He went with the truth as much as possible, usually, but suddenly a lie popped into his head. She was just so pretty. “I work at my brother’s shop but needed a break. So I’m kindof exploring. London first but hoping to go other areas too. I’m actually, er, I’m looking for some books here. I’m studying different topics, might go back to school. Could you recommend me some books on, er, on various topics?”
“Of course!” Hermione smiled at him, and Ron was dazzled for a moment. They finished putting the books on the trolley, and she wheeled it with them, proceeding down the aisle. “What subjects are you looking for?”
“Er, let’s see...” Ron wracked his brain for something, anything, but then the wild thought came to him, if he wanted a chance with this woman, he’d have to get to know some stuff about Muggles. Right? So, how about... “Technology. History. Er...famous people and like, pop references of modern times?” Oops, that had sounded like a question.
Hermione looked over her shoulder at him, raising at brow. “Have you chosen your classes yet? You sounded unsure. What school are you going to?”
“Er.” He waited for his brain to think of what Muggles said about this stuff. “I’m waiting to hear back on my, um, my applications. You know. It takes time.”
She gave him a stern, doubting look, and he quite liked the expression; it was sexy. But to distract her from his bad lying, he said, “So, what would you say are the best books on those topics?”
They walked down quite a few aisles now, into the main area where there were tables and chairs. Hermione sat down at one of the square, glowing little boxes and typed on one of the letter-tray-things connected to it. “Okay. Now I know where we can find these titles on the subjects you’re looking for. Come with me. Grab a basket!”
She practically pushed a green, plastic basket into Ron’s arms, and he had to walk faster just to catch up with her. Merlin, librarians really loved books, didn’t they? He wanted to roll his eyes, but he was worried she would see him, so he didn’t.
They stopped at a long row of shelves labelled TECHNOLOGY, and Hermione started taking books off the shelves.
“This one is excellent. It's a biography of a famous coder and computer science professor, so it’ll also cover your history requirement. Did you know the author was born in a little religious community without any computers? His name was Henry Melton. He left his community at age eighteen and travelled all over the world, then he settled down in Spain and started studying technology; he took a lot of computer science classes, he learned coding, even made his own website! Then when his wife had a child, he took some time off, but then he started studying more and more and produced all of these textbooks on the subject...”
Ron’s eyes started to glaze over. He had no idea why Hermione found all of this so interesting. Plus, what was coding, what was computer science? She kept putting books in his basket, and it was getting quite heavy! But when he opened his mouth to ask her to stop, she just put another book in, smiling at him. He liked her smile, so he said nothing.
Sometime later, they were in the History section, and Ron was nodding his head while Hermione talked about Henry the eighth -
“Oi! I remember him! He killed his wife, right?”
Hermione smiled back at him brilliantly. “Yes! You’re right; in fact, he had six wives! Wait until you hear about the killings. So, back in...”
But Ron’s eyes were already glazed over again. This woman talked too much about books!
They walked, and Hermione kept talking about the books; she’d gotten him another basket at some point, and he held both, muscles panging with pain, in either hand. The longer it went on, the more Ron found himself distracted. First, he stared at her arse, because how could he not? It was right in front of him! Damn, she had a big one. It was perfectly raised, and he wished he could see a glimpse of those arse cheeks, or even just what color knickers she was wearing.
Then one of the buttons on Hermione’s blouse slipped out of its slot, and he could definitely see cleavage tucked in there. Her skin was so creamy, and it looked so plush. Oh, fuck! He was getting hard!
But he kept nodding, making “Ah!” sounds of appreciation when she got especially squeaky about a particular book. They had proceeded from Technology and History to pop culture now, and she was talking about famous musicians. The Beatles did sound familiar...hadn’t Mum and Dad debated about them once?
Then Hermione bent over to retrieve a book on the bottom shelf, and wow...Ron could not stop staring at her arse. She turned around to talk to him, and he quickly shifted the baskets of books to cover his arousal. The moment she turned away, his gaze flitted down, he couldn’t help it. He looked at the creamy skin of her breasts revealed by the errant button.
What would it be like to rip open her blouse? He imagined lifting her by her gorgeous arse up to sit on the book trolley, and just tearing that stripey white blouse open wide. Her breasts would spill out of her bra and he would whisk it away, and before she could even protest he would start to fondle her breasts, licking and sucking until she whimpered. His tongue would lick all around her nipples, mmm! He imagined them, pink, big nipples, erect and just begging for his tongue, begging for his mouth to suckle over them so hard...
Merlin, he needed to take care of this problem!
Ron interrupted Hermione mid-sentence and blurted out, “Er, the loo? Please.” He held the two baskets in front of him extra carefully.
She pointed, and Ron walked awkwardly there, deposited the baskets just outside the loo, and rushed in.
Before he really knew what he was doing, he’d ran into a stall, shutting it with shaky fingers. He whisked his belt out of its loops and practically tore the trousers down to his ankles. Then, with his forehead pressed against the blessedly cold tile behind the toilet, he wrapped his hand around his hard cock, holding himself up with his other hand against the wall. He hadn’t even taken off his backpack!
Unbidden, a thousand images flooded his mind: Hermione, arse cheeks bared to the wind, bent over one of the library help desks while he fucked her from behind. Hermione, in nothing but a little lacy, red number he’d seen in a Muggle shop window, cooing at him as she sidled into his bed at home. Hermione, dress flapping up to reveal long, long legs and that firm, waiting arse, like he’d seen in one of those famous Muggle videos.
He panted and gasped, drawing his grip up and up, to the head of his cock. Then he circled the head slowly with just his fingertips. He imagined her pale, possibly virgin fingers were touching him, instead. From there, he stroked one slow, sliding finger back down his length with a moan, and just traced the balls. Then he was gripping his length hard again, and he drew his grip up and down faster and faster, as he imagined her full, soft mouth swallowing his cock...her pink little tongue swiping out to lick him, her lips pursed, those tender brown eyes looking up at him...
“UuunhHH! FUCK!” He came so hard and fast that he couldn’t catch it, and it splattered up onto the wall behind the toilet, like a perverted graffiti piece. He stood there, panting, just glorying in one of the best, most delicious orgasms he’d ever had in his life. This was better than having sex with Lavendar Brown; it was better than having the girls at Hogwarts stare at him, too, whenever he and Harry were in public; it was better than getting a new pair of dress robes, finally, or being interviewed and then having girls throw themselves at him, after Voldemort’s defeat. And it was just one wank! What could his life be like if he actually fucked her? What would it be like to date her?
His fantasy was spinning out of control, and he heard someone pissing in the other part of the loo. He spelled himself and the wall clean with a whispered spell.
When he exited the loo, Hermione the librarian was there, waiting for him. Merlin’s balls, had she heard him? These damn loos these days at Muggle places didn’t always have doors; it was just a weird, curving wall for privacy that went right into the loo room. Fuck him!
But she didn’t look embarrassed, and she stood at attention with her hands clasped in front of her.
“I’m so glad we found books for you,” she said, “Now let me help you with getting a library card, and then I’ll let you go.”
Ron wasn’t sure if he had done something wrong, or if Hermione had just thought of ten other things to do, because while she checked out the plethora of books to him on his new card, she rushed. He noticed the sweat that trickled down from her forehead, and she was so hurried that the books seemed to pile up themselves, without her even touching them.
Finally, she looked up at him to push the three huge bags of books towards him across the counter. “Thank you for visiting the library,” she said.
Ron reached over and put his hand over hers. Mmm, that felt so good. Her hand was so warm and so soft . Women were so soft. How long had it been since he’d touched a woman? Too long. But it wasn’t just any woman he wanted, it was her .
“Thank you,” he murmured. He looked right into her eyes, and felt a spark sizzling within him. Did she feel it too? Something in her eyes seemed to say yes, but she didn’t say anything. So Ron reluctantly turned away. It was as he walked away, the rain already pouring down in buckets – and he had no umbrella! Argh – that Ron realized, he should have just read the books there, in the library. Going back to his tiny little rented room in a Muggle motel was awful, compared to being at the library, and getting to glimpse Hermione, maybe even talk to her.
He was determined to go back the next day. But first, he had to read, so that he would look like he was paying attention to what she’d suggested. Bollocks!
Hermione had never been such an idiot in her entire life. What on earth had she been thinking? First those damned books had flown at her, like they always did when she was feeling some strong emotion. Then the trolley had moved without her even touching it, really, and the books had stacked themselves. It was all she could do not to scream and have a fit right there in the library, and get fired.
But Hermione couldn’t afford to get fired. Not many other places would tolerate the weird things that always happened around her – like items moving themselves, things erupting on fire, and even creepier things, like someone not being able to speak all of a sudden when she wished they would just shut up.
In the library though, Hermione usually felt calm. In the library, she could breathe, and only small, strange occurrences happened around her. Until today, that is.
The moment that the tall, redheaded man walked into the library, Hermione had felt as if pulled to him, like magic. Now she wasn’t one for nonsense, she didn’t believe in fate or soulmates, that was utter hogwash, but fact was that she felt a weird buzzing all up and down her body as soon as she spotted him, and the closer he got, the more the buzzing continued.
When she’d gotten a good look at him, it hadn’t helped matters. Ron was tall, with striking blue eyes and an athlete’s fluid gait. His red hair was stunning; she loved the flaming shade.
Honestly, he seemed nothing like a student. He had shown little interest in her talking about each book, and his gaze had wandered, instead, to her assets. Usually that would annoy Hermione immensely, and she should have been cold towards him. But...the buzzing in her told her, something was right about him, even said, something was right about her and him together!
Plus, the little sweaty curls at the nape of his neck; the lovely color of his hair; the muscles in his arms, although she wondered what had bitten a chunk out of his left shoulder... With all of that, she just couldn’t say no.
Sometimes, strange pullings had come to her before. When she had applied to this job, she had known it was the right thing for her, so much so that when the strange things started occurring to her again, here, she hadn’t quit, like she had with the secretary job and the cafeteria job before it; she had just said, “Keep going, Hermione.” And the strange, dare she say “magical” things, had become less and less. The less they happened, and the more she was at the library, the calmer she felt.
Hermione had not felt very calm for many years, before this library. job. After being friendless for years at school, ever excelling, she’d tried her hand at making friends at her jobs and at university. But no luck. No one really seemed to stick; and if they did, they soon got freaked out by how lightbulbs often cracked around Hermione, or she heard strange whisperings that no one else could hear.
So Hermione had opted to be alone, and the only thing that helped the loneliness not swallow her up was the library. She had gotten an award for good work last year, but even now, though everyone knew her for her excellence as a librarian, she wasn’t close to anyone at work.
With all this loneliness in her, it was a wonder to her – but also annoying, and embarrassing, why did he have to be so loud? - when she heard Ron the “student” wanking off to her in the Men’s loo. So she rushed him out as quick as possible, and hoped she’d never see him again (but all she wanted to do was look at him, and what would it be like to be in his arms again?).
Plus, she had acted like a nervous, stupid ninny the whole time he was there, as if she’d never spoken to a man before in her life. So she had to rush him away. In actuality she hadn’t felt shy; she hadn’t felt embarrassed, not really – if everyone hated her talking about books, what were they doing at the library?? - but the buzzing that only increased the longer she spent around him made her feel nervous. That was what had her frazzled, really. Even as it told her to get closer to Ron.
As soon as Hermione got home, she shucked off the awful, tight-fitting clothing that society had insisted librarians wear, and drew up a bath. While she scarfed down leftovers, she tried to page through her most recent textbook obsession, a series on old castles, but it seemed bland, now.
Another kind of buzzing inside of her had to be taken care of. The urgings. The callings. It had been too long, she supposed.
Hermione stripped off the last bit of underclothes and sunk into the hot bath with a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, godd...yesss.”
She sunk back into the bath, just soaking the heat in. Involuntarily, her mind went back to Ron.
In her mind, he met her in her office at the back of the library, and the lights dimmed down to almost-dark as they did right before closing. The other librarian was at the front, shutting the main doors. Dream-Ron stepped into her office, taking off a handsome cape-like coat across his broad shoulders. He was so deliciously tall! His hair was wet from the rain, plastered to his head.
“Hermione,” he said.
“Ron, I’ve been waiting for you,” her dream-self answered. “Hurry.”
His hands - which she imagined were callused, athlete's hands - rid her of all of her clothing in an instant. Immediately his hands were all over her. He kneaded her breasts, pulling a moan out of her, and he pressed her right up against the desk, so her arse was against it.
Next in the dream, Ron’s hands were all over her, roaming over her back, drifting his fingertips so lightly over her arms that she shivered. He bent down, and his soft, hot tongue laved over her neck, and then he suckled at her ear, and she moaned in appreciation.
Quick, frantic, he squeezed her bottom and then heaved her up onto the desk. Hermione had gotten rid of his shirt and tie, but he still wore trousers. The huge bulge of his need thrust at her, and Hermione shivered as he pressed between her thighs.
Then his hands were there, stroking the soft skin of her thighs – mm, that felt so good! - while squeezing a breast. Then, slowly, his fingers plunged into her, two at once. Hermione groaned, thrusting forward into that touch – fuck, it was good!
“More, more, Ron,” she breathed, and dream-Ron pushed his fingers into her so hard, so fast; she was bobbing against the desk, arched back; the bathtub water sloshed all around her. Then his thumb sidled up and stroked at her clit, first around slowly, then faster, “FASTER, RON, OHH!”
As his mouth descended to lick and suck up the juices of her pleasure, Hermione let out a low moan of satisfaction. This was too good. There was nothing better. But then his tongue slid slowly in circles around her clit, around and arounnddd....Hermione thrashed in the bathtub, a crooning, wanting sound erupting from her, over and over, she couldn’t stop making sounds!
“Ronnn, ohhh... OHH!” His lips suctioned so gently over her clit, his hands tight against her arse, and a gush of pleasure flowed out of Hermione and he licked it up eagerly...
Hermione sunk totally under the water with a little moan of satisfaction. Fuck! She hadn’t masturbated in so long, and it had been so good.
She hoped against hope that she would see Ron again.