A/N: Okay, so there's a kiss prompt list going around on Tumblr, and because I clearly didn't have enough other stuff going on *hard glare at self*, I reblogged it for Ron/Hermione purposes. Here was my first request, from callieskye, who also said "bonus points if the bad guys are the inquisitorial squad." x
#17: Needing to kiss to hide from bad guys
It would have only taken a few more minutes to clear off. Hermione had appointed the two of them to stand watch for a handful of DA members who had commandeered the Room of Requirement for an extra lesson, and it really would have all been perfectly fine, and maybe they'd grown a bit cocky thinking they wouldn't get caught, that they had managed to outsmart Umbridge and her bloody squad of spies.
This probably explained his panicked double take when a cluster of Umbridge's gits turned at the end of the corridor, practically marching directly toward himself and Hermione. And he could literally feel Hermione tense up beside him. Minutes. They only needed minutes. But if the DA finished their practice early and opened the door…
They'd all be fucked.
"What do we do?!" Hermione squeaked, barely audible.
His mind raced for an answer. And he couldn't do it, really. Could he? But it was the only thing he could think of. She would hex him. But he could apologise and they'd make up, later. He couldn't very well do the same if they all got dragged before Umbridge for what they'd really been down there doing. Shit.
"Shit, shit, shit."
He took her by the elbow, heart suddenly trying to beat a hole straight out the front of his chest, flashed her a grimace by way of wordless apology… and kissed her.
For one ringing second he thought she would hit him. Footsteps clashed on the stone floor, moving closer.
She snogged him back.
He couldn't breathe. He didn't need to. Her back hit the wall behind her, and he was suddenly pressed so close to her that he could feel every curve of her body through her robes. She must have pushed up onto her toes, somehow moving even closer.
Completely inappropriate thoughts raced through his mind. Of course he'd thought of doing this before, but bloody hell, not like this. And not… for real. Only in his most private dreams. Only for him to fantasise about and never act on. Of course she wouldn't want him to.
She was doing an incredible job of convincing him otherwise… Her hands were clutching at his back and his own hands had found their way to the sides of her neck, fingertips tangling in her hair. Her lips were stacked between his, and he could taste the tea she'd had after dinner, and she was so soft and warm and perfect-
"Hey!" came the grating voice of Pansy Parkinson, very close by. "Separate, now!"
Ron took a full second longer than he should have to back away from Hermione.
Her breath came unevenly through parted, swollen lips, and he was too lightheaded to answer.
"Weasley and Granger," Pansy carried on, "fifty points from Gryffindor for this!"
"Yeah, fine," Ron slurred, a bit breathlessly. Hermione's flushed face turned away from him, and it was impossible for him to read what she was thinking, just then.
"And a week's worth of detentions! You're lucky we don't take your Prefect badges, right now! Next time, I'll have them off you."
"Won't be a next time," Ron said, hoarsely. "Learned our lesson, haven't we."
"We'll see about that."
"Right. So take us back to Gryffindor and tell us where we're meant to go for detention." His eyes darted nervously to the wall next to Hermione, behind which half a dozen DA members would emerge any second.
"I will," Pansy huffed, pointing her wand at Ron. "Start walking."
Millicent Bulstrode silently did the same to Hermione, and they began their trek back, a wave of relief passing through Ron the moment they'd turned off the corridor and out of potential sight of the Room of Requirement.
The only other thing he could possibly think about was how Hermione's lips had felt on his, how all the world's concerns had dropped off for a second, and all that had reasonably existed had been him and her and the fact that they'd been snogging.
She wasn't looking at him, but what was she supposed to do? And it came crashing back, his fears, yet his resolution to do it anyway. He wondered which hex she'd use first, once they were alone.
The portrait hole loomed before them, and the Inquisitorial Squad left them with stern looks and instructions for detention, and it occurred to him uncomfortably that he'd have to apologise for that part, too.
"Ron," Hermione started in a weak voice, the moment the portrait swung shut behind them.
"Yeah, m'sorry. That was bloody stupid-"
"No, it was… rather brilliant, actually." She cleared her throat and looked suddenly alarmed. "I-I mean… the idea was brilliant, to divert their attention."
"Oh." He didn't want to sound disappointed. He'd only done what he'd done to save them. To save all of them. Right? "Still sorry I didn't ask you. Didn't have much time…"
"It's alright." She twisted the sleeve of her robe in both hands.
"Got you in trouble now, too."
"Nothing compared to what would have happened if they'd learned what we were really doing there."
"Yeah." He scratched the back of his neck and wondered if she had any idea how much he'd enjoyed their little… distraction. In fact, he was fairly certain it would be all he would be able to think about for the foreseeable future. He almost cursed out loud when his gaze drifted unconsciously down to her lips.
And why the hell wasn't she hexing him? Maybe she really did think they hadn't had any other choice. That it had been worth it. After all, she was serious about the DA and what they were doing. She would make sacrifices, same as they all would.
"I should…" She vaguely gestured toward the stairs. "I've still got so much work to do for class tomorrow."
"Yeah, yeah. Go on. I'll wait for Neville so I can explain what happened."
Her eyes widened, and he quickly corrected his phrasing.
"No, I won't tell him that. Just… that we got caught in the corridor and had to distract them. Don't worry. I'll think of something else to say we did."
Maybe there was actually a moment of disappointment in her gaze, but he cursed himself for bloody wishful thinking.
"Sure. Thank you."
He nodded almost curtly as she turned to go. He somehow knew this would be the last time they'd talk about this, that they'd have to go back to life before he'd known what it was like to kiss her. He tried to resign himself, but he could still feel her, everywhere.
Yet just as he moved to the sofa, she turned back, and her voice came to him much smaller and softer again.
"It really was b-brilliant, Ron."
"Cheers," he said hoarsely back, suddenly lost for any other words, watching til she was completely out of sight, collapsing to the sofa and closing his eyes.