This little fic was inspired by @mina-logan’s Ron and Hermione tent scene. If you haven’t seen it yet, what are you doing with your life? Go look at it now. Just look at it! And if you want the full version (trust me, you do) it’s on AO3. I’ve been obsessing over it for days, and I just had to write a fic about it. So I’m just gonna drop this right here…
💬 7 🔁 27 ❤️ 250 · ‘MIONE MINE MINE ‘MIONE MINE ‘MIONE MINE Full art: Bluesky // AO3
Mine
Hermione handed Harry his coat as he walked toward the tent flap. The sun was setting and he was taking the first watch of the night.
“Here, take this. It’s getting cold out.”
“Cheers,” he mumbled not looking her in the eye.
Ron had been in a foul mood all day from wearing the necklace, and she sensed Harry needed some distance from him right now.
As soon as Harry was gone, she saw a flash of blue emit from Ron’s wand as he cast a silencing charm around them. Immediately he turned his vitriol on her, pursuing her with a barely contained rage.
“Aww how sweet,” he bit out sarcastically. “Always taking care of the Golden Boy, aren’t you, Hermione? I wonder how else you take of him.”
She felt her heart drop into her stomach, and her eyes burned with unshed tears. She searched his expression for understanding, but there was nothing there she recognized.
“Ron, that’s not true!” Hermione argued desperately as he kept advancing toward her slowly, like a predator stalking its prey.
Ron had never intimidated her before, but his towering height, clenched fists, and unhidden fury had her keeping a wary distance.
His eyes were no longer their normal lively ocean blue. They had taken on an icy, cold appearance, and Hermione knew this wasn’t Ron. This twisted version of him hunting her with a jealous rage was the doing of that cursed necklace shining an emerald green against Ron’s pale skin.
“Ron, the necklace- she tried, but Ron’s large hand shot out and wrapped around her throat.
Hermione gasped in surprise as he used his grip to pull her to him. He was so tall, she had to strain her neck just to look up at his face.
“Shut up,” he commanded in a deadly whisper. He leaned in closer, gritting his teeth, his lips curled into a snarl. He was so close, she could feel his breath on her cheeks.
“You think Harry is so much better than me, don’t you?”
“Ron-“ Hermione tried again, but Ron gave a quick, sharp squeeze around her throat cutting off her words instantly. A warning, she knew.
He used his large body to force her backwards, never taking his angry eyes off of hers. He didn’t stop until her ass hit the edge of a table.
“I’m done playing second best to Harry fucking Potter, Hermione. I’m tired of him taking from me what should be mine.”
Before she could argue, Ron pulled her to him by her throat and kissed her.
There was nothing gentle about this kiss. It was punishing and aggressive. His lips pushed against hers forcefully, bruising her own as his hand stayed possessively wrapped around her neck. He bit her lower lip demanding entry, and when she yelped in surprise he forced his tongue into her mouth.
Hermione whimpered in response, and Ron wrapped his large arm around her back to pull her body flush to his.
She was on fire, the heat leaving his kiss, burning down her throat, and pooling in her belly. All reasoning left her brain as her lust took over.
And then she heard it: the faint, high-pitched voice taunting Ron cruelly.
“She’s not yours. You are too stupid for her. Too weak. Too poor.”
Hermione froze and Ron pulled back slowly, his eyes filled with fear. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she heard the voice of Tom Riddle rising from the necklace a second time.
“You fool. She will only lie to you. She pities you above all.”
Hermione felt a fury filling her to the brink as she watched a faint green glow rim the beautiful blue of Ron’s eyes. Voldemort had taken so much from her. He wouldn’t take Ron too.
She pushed a dazed Ron back a step and her hand fell to her jeans zipper. In seconds she had pulled them off her body as Ron watched in stoic silence. Hermione pushed onto the table and pulled Ron between her legs.
“Ron, look at me,” she ordered him and those green-haloed eyes snapped from her lower body to her face.
“I want you, Ron. I want you. Don’t listen to him,” she pleaded.
Ron came out of his trance and his focus was back. His large hands grabbed her naked thighs and yanked her to her feet. She gasped as he spun her to face the table and pushed on her back until she was bent forward. She heard a thunk hit the floor behind her.
SMACK!
Ron’s hand came down hard on her ass cheek, and Hermione yelped in shock. It was quickly replaced by a moan as she felt Ron’s hot wet mouth soothing the skin he had just slapped. She heard, rather than saw, Ron rise from his knees to his feet again.
“You’re lying to me,” he told her with certainty in his tone.
“No, Ron-
SMACK!
His hand slapped her other ass cheek and she groaned loudly. The same palm that offended her, rubbed away the pain.
She felt his large body lean over hers as his mouth came to rest by her ear.
“I’ll punish you all night if I have to. I’ll make you tell the truth, and then I’ll punish you again,” he told her before his teeth gently grabbed her ear lobe and tugged.
A shiver ran down her spine, and he palmed her bottom roughly with both hands, kneading her round flesh.
Ron’s finger snaked under her knickers and with a force that made her squeak in surprise, he ripped the fabric apart, tossing it across the tent. Then she felt his finger slide against her slit, and her thoughts ceased altogether.
“Fuck,” he hissed, “You’re so wet.”
“Ron, I want you,” she begged.
Ron pushed her head down until her cheek touched the table. His finger entered her center from behind, and she flinched in pain.
He froze and slowly pulled his finger out.
“You’re a virgin,” he stated.
“Yes,” Hermione confirmed.
“But, Krum…”
“Never touched me,” she confessed.
Ron was silent.
“Why?” He finally asked. “I know you wanted him. You let him stick his tongue down your throat.”
His tone was accusatory, and Hermione huffed in irritation. She tried to push herself up from the table, but Ron kept her head pinned in place, her body bent over.
“Answer me,” he demanded.
“I didn’t want him. I wanted you, you idiot!”
More silence.
“And Harry?”
“Ron let me go!” Hermione’s arms flailed backward in her attempt to get free. Anger was quickly replacing her desire.
Ron released her and pulled her around to face him. His fury was still there too, now with a grim resignation.
“Then it was Harry you wanted all along?”
“Ron, you arse! I don’t fancy Harry! I’ve never fancied Harry! He’s like a sibling! How could you even think that?”
Ron studied her face intently.
“I don’t believe you,” he concluded.
Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed him hard.
“Ugh! You thick headed prat! I’m done talking to you!”
Hermione got two good stomps away before Ron’s strong arm darted out and grabbed her biceps, pulling her back in front of him.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Away from you!”
“The hell you are.”
And Ron’s mouth was back on hers, his hand tangled in her hair as he claimed her mouth a second time.
But this kiss was different than the first. There was a softness now when his lips slid over hers, but no less possessive. She heard his low growl as his tongue entered her mouth and caressed her own.
Her anger ebbed out of her body as he continued their heated kiss. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and pushed her breasts into him.
Suddenly Ron broke the kiss, spun her around and pulled her back flush against his front, her naked ass rubbing against his very obvious erection still straining against his jeans.
She felt his hot breath next to her ear again.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he demanded.
He was bear hugging her body to his, one hand wrapped around her front to grab her breast, the other slung low to grab her hip.
“Ron, I’m yours. I’ve been yours for years,” she confessed, and then he was walking her forward, his body propelling hers toward his bunk bed.
Her hands flew out to catch her head from hitting the metal frame as he pushed his body into hers and pinned her in place.
His hand was between her legs again stroking her wet folds, and a loud groan escaped her mouth.
“Nobody’s touched you here.”
Ron didn’t state it as a question, but Hermione knew it was.
“Only you,” she assured him.
She heard his sharp inhale of surprise right next to her ear.
“Fuck,” he said.
Hermione whimpered.
“Ron touch me more. Please.”
Ron groaned and gave her what she wanted, rubbing her center in rhythmic circles and kissing her neck all over with hot sloppy kisses.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he was pleading with her this time.
“Ron, I’m yours. Only you do this to me,” she said, bracing herself against the bunk bed.
His teeth pulled on her ear lobe again as he kept a steady pace.
“Only I do this to you,” he repeated her words, sounding awed by them.
“Oh, Ron,” she cried, as she felt a delicious pressure building. “You feel so good.”
“I’ll kill anybody who tries to touch you like this,” he responded.
Hermione let out a low moan as she threw her head back onto his shoulder.
“Show me, Hermione. Show me how good I touch you.”
And his words broke her. She gave him what he wanted, coming undone in his arms. He held her weight up as her legs shook violently from the strength of her orgasm.
When she went limp, he turned her to face him, his eyes searching hers. She noticed the poison green light that had surrounded his beautiful blue pupils was gone now. He was starting to look like her Ron again.
He was studying her intently, and she wished she knew what he was thinking.
“Hermione-
“Ron, I love you.”
Ron inhaled sharply and his eyes widened in disbelief.
“What?”
“I love you, Ron.”
The necklace resting on Ron’s chest emitted a quick green flash before shaking.
Ron looked down to stare at it and then his gaze was back on her.
“You love me?” He said sounding confused.
“Ron, please. Make me yours,” she begged running her hands up his arms.
The necklace jumped off his chest before landing again.
“You fool! She used you! She doesn’t love you!” Riddle’s voice taunted again, but this time he sounded furious.
Hermione knew he was losing his power. Ron was starting to believe her and ignore Riddle.
“I want you, Ron. I love you,” she encouraged him again.
Hermione started tugging Ron’s tucked shirt from his jeans desperately trying to reach his skin.
He helped her, pulling his shirt the rest of the way and over his head.
Her lips were immediately on his chest kissing every inch of him.
Ron let out a low groan before grabbing her shoulders and stopping her.
He looked down into her brown eyes, searching for her understanding.
“Hermione, you don’t want this. It’ll hurt,” he told her simply, and Hermione fought the urge to scream in frustration.
“I don’t care,” she said fiercely. “Am I yours or not?”
Something else flashed in Ron’s eyes, but this time she knew it belonged to him.
He bent down and kissed her with a frenzied, desperate intensity, one large hand tangling in her hair, the other grabbing her still naked ass cheek.
“You’re mine, damn it,” he said breaking the kiss and pushing her back on his bunk.
He quickly released his belt and unzipped his pants allowing his manhood to finally spring free.
Both large hands grabbed her hips and pulled her to the edge of the bed before hooking under her thighs and spreading her open.
He looked up at her face, searching, and she gave him a nod.
Without anymore warning he thrust into her hard, taking her virginity for himself. Hermione cried out in surprise and pain.
“Shit!” He cursed, freezing his movements immediately.
Hermione took a steadying breath, willing her body to relax. She rubbed Ron’s forearm encouragingly.
“Ron, move,” she told him gently.
He shook his head looking panicked.
“Hermione, I hurt you-oh fuck!”
If Ron wouldn’t move, then she would. She had angled her hips down then thrust back up, stopping Ron’s words dead in his throat.
“Ron, fuck me. Please,” she begged again, and Ron lost it.
He grabbed her hips and started thrusting.
“Fuck, Hermione, you can’t say things like that to me,” he panted out, forcing himself in deeper, claiming her for his own.
“More,” she whimpered.
He leaned down and kissed her before pulling back and slamming into her harder.
He groaned loudly as he watched his body slam into hers. His thumb came to rub her clit, his thrusts becoming faster.
“Fuck, you’re mine,” he said. He sounded like he couldn’t believe it.
“Mine. Not Harry’s. Mine,” he repeated, watching her with those haunted blue eyes.
“Ron,” she begged, but for what she wasn’t sure.
He thrust harder, squeezing her thighs with need.
“Say it,” he demanded.
“I’m yours. Ron, I’m yours,” she panted.
“And only mine.”
“Yes! Only yours,” she whimpered.
“Fuck!”
Ron pulled out of her and came on her belly with a mighty groan.
Hermione had never seen anything so erotic in her entire life.
He stared at her as he panted, sated and relaxed.
She gave him a shy smile as she attempted to close her thighs.
But Ron’s hands were on her knees, opening her back up to him. His eyes left her face to gaze between her legs.
“Don’t,” he said. “Not yet. I want to look at you.”
She blushed furiously as he studied her body reverently.
Then a thought popped into her head and she felt herself fill with anxiety.
“Ron, what about Harry?” Hermione asked suddenly perplexed.
Ron shrugged his shoulders before running his fingers gently against her center again. She gave a low whimper in response.
“I don’t give a fuck. Tell him. Don’t tell him. Whatever you want I’ll go along with, but this? This doesn’t change between us. You’re mine now, Hermione. You belong to me. I’m not gonna stop touching you unless you make me. Got it?”
“Yes,” she panted out, her eyes closing as she got lost in the pleasure.
Ron worked her body again, this time drinking in every expression, every sound that she made. She was his now, and he no longer questioned it.
He watched her lose herself again, whispering encouragements to her the whole time. And when she had come back down he gathered her into his arms, keeping his word that he wouldn’t let her go. She would have to be the one to make him let go.
And so she did. After hours of being wrapped up in his arms, lost in the bliss they had created for themselves, she reluctantly untangled herself from him. She told him they would have to keep this secret.
Ron’s jaw clenched and he looked away from her as he gave her a stiff nod. He was disappointed she knew, but he also understood. Now was not the time to tell Harry.
She too was disappointed. But her hope was still renewed. As she looked down at the green necklace dangling from Ron’s neck, now silent and still, she knew Tom Riddle could not win. Not when she was the true owner of Ron’s heart.
