A/N: This is a ficlet telling the story of what Ron and Hermione really did when they were down in the Chamber during DH. There'll only be five short chapters, switching viewpoints between them. One more thing… I always hate when people say this, but… in my opinion, this is the weakest chapter, and if you like the idea but not this chapter so much, I suggest you put it on alert anyway, as it does (I think, anyway) get better.

Inspired by Megsy's First Kiss Challenge at HPFC.

Chapter 1

"Hurry," Ron hisses into my ear, placing his hand on my back to nudge me along. My heart, already pumping hard from running, threatens to burst out of my chest from the heat of his hand so near.

"Maybe if I was as tall as you, I could run as fast," I retort, highly aware of his gangly frame towering above me.

His hand tenses, and I prepare for another meaningless squabble brought on by me. "Maybe," is all Ron says, as reach the entrance to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

That one little word is like a reprieve, stopping the approaching argument. As his hand reaches over my shoulder to push open the door, I beam up at him. He grins back. "I've gotten maturer. Funny how mortal peril sobers a guy up."

Laughing, I gently hit his arm, keeping my hand resting there for a couple of extra seconds as we walk to the circle of sinks.

"Which one is it?" I ask him. His face twists as he tries to remember.

"That one!" The one with the tiny snake carved on the faucet; I should have known.

Ron paces around it, his "thinking face" on. The one where his eyes turn to slits, and his mouth looks like he ate a lemon.

"Hermione," he says, speculating aloud. "When we came here in second year, Harry used Parseltongue to get in; he said 'open'. He said the same thing again when he was opening R.A.B.'s locket earlier this year, but I don't know if I remember how it went.

"Just give it a go," I reply. "Like any foreign language: parrot the sounds, screw the meaning."

He looks over at me, delighted. "You sound like me!"

"Well, I heard it from Fred… but it could be your philosophy too; I'm sure he'll share."

Ron chuckles. "I'll be sure to mention it first thing after the battle."

"That's great, Ronald, now open the Chamber!" I say, bringing him back to the present.

"Oh." He shrugs sheepishly. "Right."

Now, Ron's concentrating on the faucets really hard. He begins hissing, an unnatural, guttural sound. The longer he tries to say 'Open', the paler and more animalistic his face gets, almost as though he's turning into the snake he's trying to mimic. By the time the sinks slide open, I'm shaking.

"Hey. Mione?" he asks. "You okay?"

I gaze up at him, and now he seems so normal; he's the right color, and his face has no hint of the scaly pattern that was there a moment ago.

"Trick of- of the light," I stammer.

Ron looks doubtful, but he puts his arm around me, holding me close until I calm down. No! I want to shout. No, don't do that, not unless you want to have me, right here, right now! I start laughing hysterically at the absurdity of my last thought; Ron takes a breath like he's about to say something, but instead mutters, "No, I don't want to know." Then aloud, "Ready to go down?" I nod. "Together or apart?"

"Together," I reply. "No way am I going down there alone."

We sit on the edge of the sink, him straddling me as though we're riding a sled, me firmly gripping Hufflepuff's cup. He pushes us off the edge, and we fly down into darkness.

"Ahh!" I scream, feeling the bottom of my stomach drop out.

"Relax," he says, breath warm in my hair. "It's just a giant slide."

"Really, really giant."

He laughs in my ear. "I think we're almost at the- oof!"

The slide spits the two of us out. I land hard on my knees, catching myself with my hands, and letting go of the cup in the process; it clatters across the floor. When Ron comes out of the chute a split second later, he lands right on me, knocking my chin into the floor.

We get up, examining each other for bruises. "Ah, Hermione… I think I cut your chin when I fell on you."

I run my hand over it gently; it comes away smeared with blood.

"Here- let me." Ron cups my chin in one of his hands, tilting it up so he can see. "Scourgify. There, that did it."

"Thanks," I murmur. He's still holding my chin up. "Are you going to-" kiss me?

"Oh! Er, sorry, here. Let's go."

For the first time, I notice my surroundings. The shadowy tunnel, fading away into a curve. The bones piled on the floor, some obviously animal, some… not. We're at the beginning of the Chamber of Secrets.

Disclaimer: In this fic, the plot is barely even mine – it's just an extension of Rowling's.

If you've gotten this far, I'd love a review. It doesn't have to be long, just a quick note to let me know you've read, and (hopefully) enjoyed – I'd do the same for you.