In truth, Hermione hadn't expected Ron to be able to produce a condom that evening, and at best she felt that perhaps he or Harry had decided to store some in one of the dresser drawers, but when Ron produced one from his pocket, her eyes widened in surprise. Perhaps she should have been distraught, and certainly the tension suddenly returned, Hermione feeling as though all of the air had left her lungs, but she managed a soft laugh, more nervous than anything else. Her hands rested on Ron's hips, almost encouraging as she quickly leaned forward to press her lips against the side of his neck in an open-mouthed kiss, teasing his skin lightly between her teeth.

"I can't believe you had— oh, never mind," she breathed, sitting up a bit as well as she continued to wrap her hand around his neck, feeling almost as though the only way to keep her nerves from taking over was outrunning them entirely. She kissed him again, her lips slipping to the corner of his mouth as her hand ran along his lower arm, tracing it lightly until she could gently slip the package out from between his fingers, dropping it on their sheets. Weaving her fingers with his, Hermione slowly guided his hand until it rested in her hip, under the hem of her shirt. Breaking the kiss, Hermione's forehead rested against Ron's, her words slipping over his lips in a whisper. "Is this too fast?"