A heavy sigh escaped Hermione's lips.

She was on Prefect duty with Ron, and it wasn't going well, a stark contrast to last year. Even though his lack of authority and respect for the rules were infuriating at times, they still enjoyed the time spent together, especially because it gave them an opportunity to bitch about Umbridge and gave them a much-needed break from Harry's brooding.

But now, it was different. For a start, Hermione and Ron were still not speaking. He was far too busy snogging Lavender now to even attempt to reconcile, despite Hermione's best efforts. She had worked herself up all day in anticipation of how awful it was going to be, even going as far as to plead with McGonagall to arrange a switch, but the Professor had refused, citing that the time spent together would do Ron and Hermione's fractured friendship a world of good.

Fat chance of that happening. The pair had been roaming the quiet corridors for almost an hour now, and so far, Ron had managed to say two words: 'hello' and 'no'. Hermione was getting fed up with his surliness towards her. She hadn't even done anything wrong. Nothing that he hadn't deserved, anyway.

Guilt churned in her stomach as she risked a glance at Ron. Even in the low light, she could still see the angry welts that decorated his arms. She'd tried to apologise, of course, but he hadn't wanted to listen to her reasoning.

Not that she had a decent justification. She was sure raging jealousy wasn't an excuse to attack her best friend with conjured birds.

The pair walked past the portrait of Aphrodite, a spot that usually signalled the end of their shift. But Hermione was done with getting the silent treatment from Ron. She'd concluded that it would have to be her to break the ice, or she might be waiting forever for him.

Gathering all the conflicting thoughts dancing at the forefront of her mind, she opened her mouth but was interrupted by a loud clatter from a nearby cupboard.

"What was that?" Ron's wand arm pointed towards the source of the noise. He stepped in front of Hermione, causing a flutter in her heart at his protective action.

"It's probably Peeves, but we should check just in case."

Despite his heroic attempts to look after her, she was still a capable young woman and could very well look after herself. She side-stepped around his arm and yanked the door open, her wand arm stabbing into the darkness to illuminate the space. Her shoulders sagged in relief as she found the cupboard bare. She was about to turn around to tell Ron, even though his heavy breathing wafted over her shoulder, indicating how close he was standing to her, when an unknown force grabbed the pair by the wrists and pulled them into the vestibule.

The door slammed with a resounding thunk behind them.

"What the fuck?" Ron exclaimed, pulling at the handle without any luck. Once he'd tired of attempting the muggle way of opening doors, he lifted his wand in an attempt to magic his way out. "It's no good. It's locked shut."

Hermione had lingered at the back of the cupboard during Ron's futile attempts at breaking them out, and when he turned towards her, she could see that a light sweat had formed on his forehead, and his robes were wonky.

"Well, I can tell that, Ronald."

He frowned. "Well, you're the bloody genius. You fix it!"

Ignoring the back-handed compliment, even though it made her cheeks heat up in excitement, Hermione stepped towards the door.

"Interesting…" She whispered a myriad of revealing spells, utilising her entire repertoire as she passed her wand over the wooden grain. "The pink light surrounding the door seems to indicate…but that would mean…" She gasped as the realisation hit her. "But that was only a rumour."

A frustrated growl interrupted her thought process as Ron pulled at her shoulder, spinning her around to face him.

"Hermione, you're doing that thing where you only say half a sentence but assume we know what you're talking about. It's bloody confusing. What's going on?"

She grimaced, her stomach churning in nerves as she shifted from foot to foot. It was as if a hundred ants were crawling over her body. She felt itching and uncomfortable at the thought of spending any more time than was necessary locked in such a confined space with her ex-best friend. Hermione did not want to have this conversation with Ron, not here, but if her suspicions were true, then she'd need his cooperation to get them out of this pickle.

"Well, it's no coincidence that this cupboard is next to the portrait of Aphrodite, and I read in Hogwarts: A History that the castle often likes to, uhm, interfere in the lives of its students. Especially when it feels it might be able to help fix certain situations."

Heat filled her body. The oppressive warmth of the cupboard mixed with her overwhelming awkwardness, and for a moment, Hermione thought she might pass out or suffocate. But she continued anyway.

"And I think that the castle knows we're currently not talking to each other, at least, not properly, so it's trying to get us to fix that."

Ron's face brightened. "Oh well, that's easy then. Friends?"

He offered out his hand, and Hermione eyed it before taking it with a shake.

"Friends."

He let go of her with a satisfied smile then tried the door again, giving it an almighty kick when it wouldn't budge. A small smile tugged at the corner of Hermione's mouth as Ron winced.

"I-I think there's something else. The glow around the door and the presence of Aphrodite probably means we…" She sighed, struggling to force the words out. "We might have to kiss."

"Oh." Ron sank to the floor, holding his head in his hands.

"Yeah."

⁂

An hour later, they were still sitting on the floor of the cupboard. The heat had increased since Ron and Hermione were first locked in, forcing them to shed their robes, jumpers and ties and to unbutton the top of their shirts. They had talked for a while, trying their best to skirt around the elephant in the room. But now they were quiet. From the light breaths emitting from Ron's mouth, Hermione thought he might even be asleep.

As much as she'd longed for time with just him, she had a potions essay she'd been hoping to finish before bedtime.

No other solutions had come to her mind, so she knew they would have to bite the bullet and get on with it. But it was such a risk. What if the thought disgusted Ron? What if he never wanted to be her friend again after learning she was such an awful snogger? Or, what if he liked it and wanted more? That would certainly create a few complications.

"Let's just get on with it," Ron murmured, lifting his head so that his bright cerulean eyes gazed over at her.

Hermione squeaked. "I think we might have to, but," she paused, "can we just promise this won't change anything?"

"Oh come on Hermione. We've known each other for years. It's just a kiss."

Despite his bravado, Ron still gulped, giving a glimpse of how nervous he was, his Adam's apple bobbing in his neck. He shifted onto all fours and crawled towards her. Hermione's heart raced in her chest as she squirmed back against the wall. It was all happening too fast—Ron was getting closer at an alarming rate. Sure, she'd dreamt about kissing him for a long time now, but being locked in a cupboard with him like this wasn't the first fantasy that came to mind, and especially not like this.

A heat ignited deep in her belly as she breathed in his scent, reminding her of sweat and the freshly cut grass at the Burrow. Their lips met in a chaste kiss that was barely even a peck. She felt nothing from it, and Ron pulled away with a pleased smile.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Hauling himself to his feet, he tried the lock again, letting out a loud expletive as it still wouldn't budge.

"I think it has to be a proper kiss," she said in a hushed voice.

"Oh."

The realisation hit Ron hard. His face turned pale, and he wiped his hands on his trousers twice as his chest heaved under his shirt. Hermione was right, then. The thought of snogging her made Ron feel ill. This was going to kill their already broken friendship.

But if they didn't kiss, they were going to die in this cupboard, especially with how warm it was getting. Nobody would find them until at least the morning, and it might be too late by then. They'd be boiled alive.

Getting to her feet, she clenched her clammy, shaking hands and faced him with all the Gryffindor courage she could muster.

"It'll just be quick. You can..." Hermione hesitated for a moment, a painful thought stabbing her in the heart. "J-Just pretend I'm Lavender."

"What if I don't want to?"

Ron's eyes flitted to her lips, and she licked them self-consciously. They were so dry. Why hadn't she taken an extra sip of her water at dinner? Where was her lip balm, anyway? They were standing too close together, and she was sure she could hear his heart pounding in time with hers. He lifted his hand to tuck a stray curl behind her ear, and Hermione noticed it was shaking.

He took another step towards her and soon enough, she was pressed flush against his chest. It was sturdy and warm, but she didn't have long to contemplate what that meant to her as Ron lowered his head towards hers. She stretched up on her tiptoes, bumping their noses together, and she couldn't stop the giggle that escaped her lips. But then he laughed too and everything was alright.

Their lips finally met, and a spark of electricity flowed from the contact, coursing through her veins and making every inch of her tingle. Ron's mouth was soft, and he tasted of cinnamon and chocolate frogs. He made a noise of approval before increasing the pressure as his hands moved to rest on her hips.

Not sure what to do with her own, she took hold of his arms, tightening her grip on him as if to ground her to reality.

Eventually, they pulled away, both panting for breath. A studious look unfolded across Ron's face.

"Wow."

"Yeah," was all she could say in response.

"You didn't tell me that you…" he trailed off, a lop-sided grin appearing on his face.

"Well, you never told me," she countered, letting go of him and folding her arms across her chest. She couldn't help but get defensive. She'd always guarded her emotions, afraid of what might happen if people were to learn who the real Hermione was.

But Ron just laughed and pulled at her arms, eventually prising them apart. He stole another kiss with a moan, steering them back towards the closest wall. Hermione allowed herself to get lost in them, all thoughts of Lavender and anything else disappearing as she finally got what she wanted. Her hands slid into his soft hair as his tongue grazed against her lips.

Just as she was beginning to enjoy herself, the door unlocked with a loud click, forcing the couple apart.

Feeling disappointed that their confinement was over, Hermione turned her back to him and busied herself with gathering her things.

"What happens now?" a low, breathy voice asked.

Hermione lifted her head to see him lingering by the door, rubbing the back of his neck. His skin was flushed, his lips swollen, and it took all of Hermione's self-control not to throw herself at him again.

"You have a girlfriend, so nothing, I guess."

He sighed, looking lost and confused, and her heart ached for him. She wished things were different, but that's the way life went for Hermione. She never got what she wanted.

"Yeah, I guess. But what if I were to break things off with Lav?"

She stopped bustling around and pivoted her body to face him. She tried her best to soften her expression and not let the excited rush of glee at the thought of getting Ron to herself show on her face.

"If that were to happen, then I guess maybe we could explore that kiss a little more. I-I like you Ron, in more than just a best friend way, but I don't want to be your excuse. That would be unfair on Lavender and me."

"I know." He sighed again, but when he lifted his head, a more hopeful smile appeared. "I like you too, a whole bloody lot, in fact."

With an understanding smile and a nod, she walked past him, allowing her hand to linger on his arm for a brief moment.

"Come on, let's head back to the common room."

Hermione let go of him then headed down the corridor, not daring to look back to see if he was following or watching her. Her head was a whirlwind of emotions and concerns, and she needed time to unpack and analyse them by herself.

It would probably end up with her having her heart broken again, but at least she and Ron were friends, for now.