Hermione was furious. Absolutely, totally, completely, utterly and truly furious. Her face was deep red with anger, her hair was messier than it had been in ages, and her mouth was set in a very thin line that was scarily reminiscent of Professor McGonagall at her most dangerous.
And it was all Ron's fault.
Well no, it wasn't really, he told himself as the two of them walked in silence along the deserted corridor, her in front, hands clenched by her sides, him behind, ambling carelessly, watching her hips swing. It was really Professor Dumbledore's fault. After all, if he hadn't made Ron and Hermione Head Boy and Girl, they wouldn't have been out the night before doing patrols. And if they hadn't been out the night before doing patrols, they wouldn't have come across Malcolm Baddock, a Slytherin third-year, setting up a Trip Jinx outside the Charms classroom. And if they hadn't come across Malcolm Baddock setting up a Trip Jinx outside the Charms classroom, Hermione wouldn't have given him what for, all domineering and sexy and turning Ron on a lot. And if Ron hadn't been turned on a lot, well, he might not have, shortly afterwards, grabbed Hermione, pulled her into a deserted classroom, snogged the face off her and tried to undo her bra. And if he hadn't been snogging the face off her while trying to undo her bra, Professor McGonagall wouldn't have walked in on them, taken one horrified look and given them both detention.
So it was Dumbledore's fault, Ron concluded as they approached the room where they were to do their detentions. He'd explain that to Hermione, if he wasn't so sure she would rip his head off if he so much as grinned at her.
"Ah, there you are." McGonagall's mouth was as tight as Hermione's, Ron noticed as they entered the room, which was populated by thick wooden tables covered in stacks upon stacks of dusty books. "These are returned library books that need sorting out into alphabetical order. Usually Madam Pince does it in two seconds with her wand, but she's having the night off. You two can do it unaided." She glared at Ron, who felt the tips of his ears redden. It was pretty high on the list of embarrassing moments, to be caught by your teacher while attempting to shag your girlfriend, and clearly the experience had scarred McGonagall, too.
"But Professor," Hermione said in a very small voice, as if she felt she had no right to be asking any questions. "That'll take us all night!"
McGonagall nodded curtly. "It will indeed, Miss Granger. That will ensure you have no time for… other matters." She coughed. "Perhaps that will teach my Head Boy and Girl to set a better example in the future. I am going to bed for some well-earned rest. Goodnight."
And with that final terse sentence, McGonagall left the room, closing the door firmly in her wake.
Ron thought he should say something – crack a joke, smile, make a silly comment – but Hermione was still furious. She roughly pulled out a chair at the nearest table, sat down and began sifting through the books, banging them down on the wood as she went. All the while she simmered, her eyes full of fire. That should have frightened Ron into submission, yet he felt strangely emboldened. It was Dumbledore's fault, so he didn't have anything to worry about.
"You ought to take care of those books," he said after a few moments of watching her. "You'll probably be the one borrowing them next week."
Hermione's nostrils flared; she looked like an extremely attractive dragon. "If it wasn't these books, Ron, it would be your head," she growled.
Ron shrugged and sat down at the table farthest from Hermione's, fully intending not to rile her any more than he already had. Sighing, he picked up the first few books, glanced at the spines and rearranged them into alphabetical order. He did the same with the next four books, then added them to the others in much the same way.
It didn't take Ron long to wish he was doing something else. This was so boring, and what made it worse was Hermione ignoring him, immersed in her task, her cheeks still red with anger. Her hair was going mad around her face and Ron couldn't help watching her, biting his lip as she worked. She looked totally gorgeous with her pink tongue poking absently out of her mouth.
This was no good, he decided. He wasn't interested in the books, especially not that his trousers were becoming tighter and his arousal deeper as Hermione pulled her chair closer to the desk and crossed her legs. Ron bit back a moan and instead settled for clearing his throat loudly.
"Hermione? Could you come here, please?" He tried to sound as casual as possible but it was very difficult when she was right there, teasing him without even realising.
Unsurprisingly, Hermione didn't answer. She sniffed and shifted the enormous pile of books in front of her over a little so that Ron's view of her was entirely blocked. He sighed. Of course this wasn't going to be easy; Hermione was as stubborn as he, if not more so. That was part of her attractiveness and Ron forced himself to remember that even as his erection throbbed.
"'Mione? Please? I need some help." Ron changed his tone to pleading, appealing to her better nature, and crossed his fingers under the desk.
"I'll say," was the retort he received, and he grinned. This was good; at least she was talking.
"Hey, do you realise we'd get this done a lot quicker if you helped me?" Ron said brightly, hoping that maybe she would be flattered enough to forgive him.
Unfortunately, this seemed not to be the case. "You must be joking if you think I'm helping you," she snapped, still hidden behind her book tower. Or at least, most of her was hidden. Luckily, Ron could see her legs beneath the table, and tried not to lose control as her fingers slid down to scratch her thigh.
"Aww, come on, 'Mione," he said in a deliberately-annoying sing-song voice. "I can't do it by myself."
Hermione snorted. "Well, that's nothing new. If it wasn't for me you'd be even more useless than you already are."
Knowing Hermione as well as he did, Ron was aware that she was merely trying to push him so far that he'd end up angry too, and stop pestering her. She probably hated the fact he was acting unbothered, and it was this which encouraged him to keep up his attempts at placation rather than taking her to task over her hurtful comment.
"If we share the work, we'll be out of here soon, you know," he said conversationally, hoping that the unspoken invitation to share his bed had been obvious to her.
But if it was, she wasn't remotely interested, instead rejoining, "It's your fault we're here in the first place! If anything you should be doing all the work!"
That did bother Ron, who felt something flare inside him. "Excuse me," he said, standing up in reaction without thinking, "but I wasn't snogging myself in that classroom! If I remember rightly, you were as into it as I was!"
Hermione copied him, standing so fast that she sent a precariously-balanced book toppling from the edge of the table to the floor.
"I didn't start it! You're the one who decided it would be a good idea! I mean, what is wrong with you that you always have to drag me off somewhere and kiss me? Can't you control yourself?"
Ron didn't want to feel stung by that, but he did. She didn't seem to have a clue about what she did to him, and that made him wonder if perhaps he was doing something wrong. In any case, he wasn't pleased, and his carefree demeanour of the minutes previously dissipated in the heat of his emotion.
"What the hell are you on about?" he shouted, not remotely caring that someone might hear or that his erection had wilted, albeit a tiny bit. "There's nothing wrong with me except you! You drive me so crazy that sometimes, I can't keep hold of how I feel and I have to touch you there and then! And I don't want to always wait until we're alone and prepared and all that stuff – I want to be spontaneous and make your heart beat really fast and be exciting and I thought you wanted me that way too!"
He realised too late that his face was burning and his pulse was racing, and as he looked at Hermione he noticed how wide her eyes had become. Her hands were clenching the desk and she was breathing heavily, as if she had played a day-long game of Quidditch. Ron didn't know why she should be so breathless; he was the one who had yelled and made an idiot of himself as usual.
Feeling defeated and deflated, Ron sat back down in the hard wooden chair and roughly pulled a couple of books towards him, determined not to look up and meet her eyes. For all he knew, she was horrified at what he had said and thought he was some really horny bastard who was only ever after sex. And while that was an important part of their relationship, to Ron it wasn't the most important part. There were so many other factors that made waking up beside Hermione the best thing in the world.
A good few minutes – Ron didn't know how many – passed before he heard the distinct scraping of a chair followed by soft footsteps coming closer. The next thing Ron knew, Hermione was standing almost nervously by his table, staring down at her hands.
"I… I do want you that way," she said, in a very small voice, sounding highly embarrassed. "I like spontaneous and exciting." She sniffed and raised her head, though she was gazing at a point somewhere above Ron's head. "But that doesn't mean I want to be spontaneous and exciting in the middle of school and get us detention!" She sounded more like her usual self, and this emboldened Ron, who was still smarting.
"So you want to be exciting as long as you can't get caught? Wow, that's really going to work," he scoffed. "What's wrong with detention, anyway? You're just sore because for once, your halo slipped and you were punished for something. Who cares? Everyone gets in trouble sometimes!" Ron was taking a risk, saying these things, but he was so frustrated with Hermione's rule-obsession. It didn't hurt to throw caution to the wind now and then, he believed.
Now Hermione was meeting his eyes, and she didn't look very happy. "You're Head Boy!" she hissed, sounding exasperated. "You're supposed to be setting an example to the younger students, and shagging in classrooms isn't right! Of course I care about detention! I spend my whole life trying to stay on the right side and pass my exams and be a good Head Girl and all you care about is taking my top off!"
Ron thought he could see a flush creeping up Hermione's neck… and sure enough, the thought of him taking her top off was clearly having an effect, because she stared at him, her mouth slightly open, eyes flashing with the remainder of her ire and the beginnings of her desire. Ron shifted in his seat as his cock sprang back to life, and he had to remind himself that they were arguing and not likely to do much else tonight.
It wasn't a bad idea to lighten the mood, though.
"That's not true," he pouted, after thirty seconds' charged silence. "I don't just care about taking your top off." He smirked. "I care about taking your knickers off, too."
Hermione gaped. "Ron Weasley!" she cried, caught between a reprimand and a laugh, and Ron knew which one he would much rather hear.
"What?" he asked, trying to keep a straight face.
"You are terrible!" She was trying to sound scandalised but she was fighting a smile, and all it took was one shifty look at each other and they broke down completely. It wasn't long before Ron was clutching his stomach and Hermione had tears rolling down her cheeks as she leaned against the desk.
When Ron had calmed down somewhat he was free to admire how gorgeous Hermione looked as giggly aftershocks escaped her. This was what he wanted; for her to be uninhibited when they were together.
"So you never have fantasies?" he said eventually, once her laughter had finally subsided. "You've never imagined what it would be like to… oh, I dunno… make love on a desk in one of the classrooms?"
"Ron," Hermione said admonishingly, but eyes were darkening, to Ron's renewed excitement. He stood up and moved around to stand in front of her, reaching out to stroke her cheek. She shuddered beneath his touch.
"You've never imagined us together in here, doing really naughty stuff?" he said quietly, cupping her chin in his hand. "Moving against each other, calling out each other's names, touching, kissing…" With that, he smoothly pressed his lips to hers, hearing her moan, feeling her small arms encircle his waist and hug him closer. He didn't waste time before deepening the kiss, allowing her probing tongue to slide into his mouth, a thrill running through his body as he realised she couldn't hold back when she was with him. She tasted brilliant, of the Chocolate Frog he had watched her eat after dinner and before detention. She hadn't been speaking to him then, but she was more than making up for it now with that heavenly mouth of hers moving sensually against his own.
"Oh, Ron," she gasped as he left her lips to kiss her neck, working his way down the chords of the throat to her collarbone. His fingers alighted on her shirt and started to slide each round button through its hole, unable to stop until he'd pushed the material from her shoulders and down off her arms. She shivered and laughed as he sucked her shoulder gently, producing a small, red mark when he was finished.
"You're beautiful," he managed to utter, as she stood there in her black lace bra, smiling up at him. Before he could do anything, her hands were slipping deftly underneath his T-shirt, caressing his skin and playing with his hardened nipples. He briefly said a thankful prayer that, because it was late at night, McGonagall had allowed them both to wear casual clothes, as it made this undressing lark so much easier.
Divested of his T-shirt, Ron resumed his fervent kissing of Hermione, cupping her modest breasts in his large hands, revelling in the perfect way they seemed to fit. There was only one way to make this better – and he unhooked the front fastening on her bra, freeing her soft breasts and leaving the way clear for him to lean down and suck her right nipple. She moaned, the sound like wonderful music, and Ron continued his ministrations, fingering her other fleshy mound at the same time. Hermione was writhing beneath him, and he grinned into her skin. She certainly had forgotten about being angry with him.
"Ron… the desk…" she breathed into his ear, hardening his cock beyond belief. He nodded and started to lift her, before realising that all the desks were covered with books. All except one. Ron's gaze alighted on the large teacher's table and his heart soared. He backed Hermione over to it, kissing her all the while, stiffening when she slid her hands snugly into the back of his jeans, squeezing his arse. He wanted to tell her to stop, that he might not last, but he didn't have the energy, especially once he had hoisted her onto the wooden desk and removed her skirt. He didn't have energy for anything other than running his fingers up her inner thighs, for kissing her so deeply that they could barely breathe, for pressing a finger inside her knickers and making her cry out…
"Oh, oh!" Hermione let go of Ron to lean back on her hands, steadying herself as he pulled off her knickers and resumed his attention. He knew she was watching compulsively as he flicked the tip of his finger over her clit, and when he looked up at her again she wore an expression of such lust that it was all he could do not to come there and then.
"More!" she breathed, her eyelids sliding shut as he dipped a finger past her folds and into her opening. She groaned and arched her back before giving in completely and lying flat on the desk, bending her knees so that her feet were flat. Ron shed his jeans and climbed on top of her, letting his full body press into hers as he added a second finger, transfixed by the way her mouth hung open and her cheeks burned brightly.
The thought flashed through Ron's mind that perhaps a silencing charm on the room might have been a wise idea, but it didn't take long for him to forget all about that as Hermione gasped, "Ron… Please… Your mouth…" and wriggled against him, pushing his boxers down his thighs before he could move.
He didn't need telling twice as he slid clumsily off the table, kicking his shorts right off before drawing a chair up and straddling it backwards, moaning at the sensation of the smooth wood against his almost-painful erection. Forcing himself to ignore this, he instead set about kissing up Hermione's calves as she shifted to the edge of the table, draping her legs over his shoulders, pulling him closer. He grinned as he trailed his tongue up her left thigh and lightly, so lightly that there was barely contact at all, over her clit, causing her to shudder violently.
"Oh God, Ron, please!" she begged, her voice hoarse and needy. Ron couldn't help being rather pleased that he was so good at this he'd made her forget where they were and why they were here – and the fact that she'd spent the entire day livid at him. Not too shabby, Weasley, he mused, prior to delving his tongue deliciously into Hermione, feeling her moan reverberate through her body and into his brain. He couldn't think any more as he worked her, adding his agile fingers to the equation, stroking her and licking her, obsessed with her smell and her taste and the way she started rocking against him, impaling herself on his tongue, squealing and murmuring until…
"Oh fuck yes!"
Hermione's whole body tensed as she came, riding the waves as Ron finished her off. Then, she was still, breathing erratically and looking in a state of bliss as Ron shoved the chair to the side, climbing up onto the desk with her. He straddled her body, staring down at her flushed complexion before kissing her frantically, letting her taste herself and making her moan again.
"You sorry we got detention now?" he asked, a wicked grin crossing his face. "You definitely don't look it."
Hermione laughed softly and moved her legs apart so that Ron nestled snugly between them, his cock probing her enticingly.
"I don't know what you do to me, Ron," she said, shaking her head. "But I hope you can see that I like excitement as much as you do." She smirked. "And it's pretty obvious the effect you have on me…" She grabbed his right hand and brought it down to where she remained wet, eliciting a guttural groan from Ron's throat that he was only half-aware of making. Why was she always so amazing? She had him right where she wanted him – well, nearly.
"Merlin, 'Mione," he gasped as she took his by surprise, grasping his length and stroking firmly. "Stop, stop, I want to…"
For once, she did as he asked and let go, only for him to pin her hands above her head, sliding tightly into her as he did so. In one fluent movement, the two of them were joined and Hermione's high-pitched cry merged with Ron's deep grunt of satisfaction. She felt so good surrounding him, and in that moment he didn't understand why they spent so much time arguing when there was stuff like this to keep them entertained.
"Ron," she whimpered, as he increased the speed of his thrusts, her hips jerking up to meet his, drawing him in further when her warm hands escaped his hold to alight on his arse. He kissed her neck, her jawline, her lips, her eyes, down to her chin, her breasts, back up to capture her mouth in a myriad of moans. He broke away to see her touching herself above where their bodies were joined, and he felt he could take no more.
He just had time to be grateful the desk was wide enough to accommodate them before Hermione suddenly shuddered beneath him, trembling as she spasmed around him, moaning and calling out his name in sex-drunk tones. Ron let go and followed her, feeling the incredible ecstasy wash over him again and again as he emptied deep into her, shouting, "'Mione," like a prayer.
In the moments after their highs, they lay quietly together on the table, Ron shifting onto his back to be beside her. He loved the closeness of afterwards, holding her hand as she wrapped herself around him, sighing. He couldn't believe they had actually had sex in a classroom at school! Evidently he hadn't given Hermione enough credit when it came to spontaneity, and he smiled down at her. Her eyes met his and she laughed.
"What?"
"Nothing," he said, tracing his fingers down her back. "That was cool."
Hermione laughed again. "Yes, it was, wasn't it?" She raised herself up on one elbow, Ron watching her breasts move as she did so. "What was that you said about me not being exciting?"
Ron rolled his eyes at her look of triumph. "Ok, ok, I'm sorry. I take it all back! You're gorgeous and fantastic and extremely exciting." He grinned and she kissed him softly. "And a great kisser," he added, making her blush.
It was ten minutes later when Hermione decided they should get dressed and start sorting out the books. "We don't want another detention," she said sternly as she buttoned up her blouse, much to Ron's disappointment. He pulled on his jeans before brushing past her on his way to retrieve his T-shirt.
"Don't we?" Ron muttered suggestively in her ear, winking as she kissed him again, parting his lips to massage his tongue gently. She promised more when they'd finished, and it was this which spurred him on to work faster until two hours later, they left the classroom hand-in-hand, heading back to Ron's room.