Ron turned a corner just in time to press himself up against a wall as Mrs. Norris came dangerously close to sliding up against him. She walked by, not noticing anything. He let out a silent breath. It was a wonder that was the worst thing he had encountered tonight.
It was a little past 12:00 AM, and Ron was making his way, crouching painfully low under Harry's invisibility cloak, to the portrait of the fruit bowl. It was also the entrance to the kitchens.
He stepped along silently, and the Bloody Baron appeared through a wall to his left. He stopped dead. The Baron's eyes flickered to his exact spot, and Ron felt numb. He'd never been close to the Baron before, and now he made a note in his head never to do it again. The Baron looked evil, and menacing with the blood stains on its clothing. Just as Ron was about to step forward, the Baron turned away and sailed into the next wall, out of sight. Ron waited a full two minutes before continuing.
He finally approached the fruit bowl painting. He tickled the bright yellow pair that was next to the apple, and it gave a soft giggle. The portrait then swung forward and he stepped up into the kitchens.
Throwing off the cloak, he realized had never been here at night before and found that it was very different than from the daytime. Normally, as soon as he stepped foot into the bright kitchen, he would be bombarded with house-elves willing to care to his every need. But now, it was dark, empty, and cold. He looked around. No tea trays or cups of pudding waiting to be eating by the next stray student who wondered in.
He stepped forward and opened to icebox. It released some cold mist, and Ron peeked inside. Ice cream was stocked to the very top of it. He saw all kinds, chocolate, coffee, moose tracks, vanilla, mint, strawberry, cookie dough, and every other kind. He didn't know where to start. He grabbed the coffee box and closed the icebox. He tucked the cold box under his arm and continued his search. He found the pantry, which was built to the ceiling and covered almost a whole wall. He opened the first door, and nearly fainted. Cakes and tarts were practically stacked on top of each other. He grabbed a chocolate one and continued.
By the end of his search, he had cherries, cakes, puddings, ice cream, and tarts. He turned around and then he noticed a pantry he had overlooked. He opened it up, and then found out it was a walk in pantry.
He entered and saw that it had even more cakes on it. He smiled broadly. His midnight snack had been quite a success so far. He pulled out his wand, being careful not spill his snacks, and conjoured up a table and a chair. He quickly dumped his things on it, and smiled.
"Where to start?" he said aloud and he sat down. Smiling again, he pulled the cake toward him, and began to cut a very large piece out of it. He began to stuff the whole thing into his mouth, when…
"Ronald Weasley, what are you doing?"
Ron nearly choked. He turned and saw that Hermione was standing in the pantry, hands on her hips, fully clothed. He swallowed painfully, and he saw Hermione look away in disgust.
"That's very grotesque, you know that?" she said.
"Why are you in here?" he asked, very surprised.
"I asked you first!" she said.
"Um…prefect duties?" Ron lied, chuckling nervously.
"Do not lie to me, Ron; you are NOT doing prefect duties. I'm doing prefect duties. You are in fact in the kitchens stuffing your face," she glared at him.
She looks cute like that, Ron thought. He nearly kicked himself. Or not…
"Oh…um, okay," Ron was unsure how to answer.
"Go back to bed!" she said furiously.
He glared at her. "Don't tell me what to do! I'm not three-years-old. You're not the boss of me."
"Wait," she walked forward a couple steps, "how old are you?"
He got up and walked forward too. "Older than you."
"I guess you'd never be able to tell with that maturity level, would you?" Hermione said. He was surprised. Hermione had never been good with witty come-backs.
"You're impossible."
"You're the one who's supposed to be in bed!" Hermione said angrily.
"Oh, stop being such a goody-two-shoes!" Ron said, before turning around and walking back to the table. Hermione caught up with him and stepped between the two.
"I'm not a goody-two-shoes, Ron!" Hermione cried at him. "Just because I try to make good grades and I try to pass and I try not to crack under all this bloody pressure on me, I'm not a goody-two-shoes."
Ron rolled his eyes. "That does, in fact, make you a goody-two-shoes, Hermione!"
She stared at him in such a way that he thought McGonagall might be in a run for her money. The thought made him laugh, which made her angrier.
"What are you laughing at?" she asked angrily. "Ron! Stop laughing at me!" But he kept laughing. He held his stomach, and was close to tears when…
Hermione smothered chocolate cake in his hair.
He stopped laughing and looked surprised. Now Hermione was laughing.
"Hey!" he ran a hand through his chocolaty hair. "It's everywhere, Hermione!"
This only caused her to laugh harder. Angry, Ron grabbed the bowl of whip cream and smothered some all over her face. He started laughing, and she stopped.
"RON!" she grabbed the bowl from him and did the same.
Ron smiled slightly, and ran a finger down her whip cream face. He ate it and said, "Yummy…"
She grabbed a pie from the table and threw it at his robes, managing to create big globs of frosting all over them. "Hermione, my mum's going to KILL me!" She merely giggled, and when Ron came at her with a pie of his own, she shrieked and ran from him.
He chased her around and threw it at her back. He nailed her in the back of her head, and she squeaked.
Pretty soon, they were both covered in food, and neither of them showed signs of stopping. Hermione was being chased by Ron again around the pantry when she slipped in some pie and fell. Rom, who had been right behind her, crashed into her and fell down on top of her, his hands on either side of her face.
They were both breathing heavily, Hermione's chest rising and falling. Ron now realized they were very close, and Hermione looked very pretty, and that he was extremely turned on.
Ron, who wanted to kiss Hermione very badly, leaned forward a few inches. She didn't move. A few more inches. She didn't try to get away. A few more. Now he was only an inch away from her face, and he could feel here breath on his neck. Finally, he decided she wasn't rejecting him and he closed the space between them.
He tasted the whip crème and other sweets on her lips, and felt even more turned on, feeling an ache. He flicked his tongue against her lips, and she immediately opened her mouth He slid his tongue in and she responded. Suddenly, he felt her mouth close, shutting him out. He groaned in complaint and he giggled against him, and let him back in. He felt a hand on the nape of his neck, and Hermione pulled him down farther. He slid his hands through her hair, and she moaned into his mouth. Another ache.
Suddenly, he felt Hermione arch her back, and she began grinding her hips with his. He smiled slightly. He didn't know where Hermione learned to do this, but he liked it. He loved this side of her, he decided. He grinded back with her, and the aches became throbs.
She slid her hand up under his shirt, and she pressed her cold hands onto his warm back. He moaned, and moved away from her mouth. He began kissing the whip crème off her face, and she stopped him. She giggled.
"What?" he said, smiling.
"You have whip crème all over your mouth. Come here," she pulled him in for another kiss and he felt her kiss everything off his lips. He pulled himself away from her, and instead of kissing, he licked the whip crème off of her. She gasped.
"Ron.." she moaned. She captured his lips again, and then finally needing air, they both pulled away, breathing heavily.
"Hermione," Ron said, smiling. "Where'd you learn to be such an excellent kisser?"
Hermione smiled. "The boy next door had a few pointers." When Ron's ears went pink, she rolled her eyes. "Three years ago." He relaxed.
"Going to punish me now?"
"For what?" Hermione was confused.
"For being out of bed."