"I still can't believe," Ron said languidly as he kissed the mole next to her bellybutton, "That we could have been doing this for months, bloody months no less, if I hadn't called you my employee. Jesus, you'd just kissed me. I didn't know what I was saying."
Hermione smiled lazily and lightly scratched her fingers on the back of his neck. "You like doing this then?"
He laid his head on her stomach. "It's my favourite thing to do with you aside from looking at insect casts in piles of dust."
Her laughter bubbled through her stomach and jiggled his head. Laying her head back on the pillow, she suddenly caught sight of the CCTV camera in the very corner of the ceiling.
"Is that on?"
His eyes followed hers. "Relax," he soothed, tracing lines over her skin with his thumb, "No security guard at night. I'll lift the tape before anyone comes in." He smirked. "I might even keep it. For educational purposes."
Hermione slapped him playfully. "Don't you dare! Destroy it immediately! I'll want to see the evidence."
"Shame. Some of my finest work is on that tape."
She laughed again and then sighed. "We need to get up. People are going to start coming in soon. I don't think two naked people lying in the exhibit sets quite the right tone."
Ron grumbled. "Right now?"
"Yes, right now. I need to get to work. MayBeth fell off the wall again. I think she's haunted."
She moved to sit up but he easily overpowered her, forcing her back into the sheets.
"There's work to do," Hermione mumbled, even as her head lolled to the side under the pressure of his lips on her neck.
He moved to her clavicle, mouthing the nubby bone.
"Later… MayBeth has been dead for a hundred years. She'll wait another hour."
"We can't lie here for another hour Ron. We have twenty minutes. Max."
He looked up and grinned and her stomach flip-flopped.
"Twenty minutes is loads of time. Not even a challenge woman."
She raised an eyebrow. "You are cheekily optimistic for someone who has exerted a lot of energy over the last eight hours. Are you sure you're up to it?"
"Are you doubting my abilities?" Ron sat up on his elbows and bit her earlobe. "'Cos, I could do it in ten."
"You could not do it in ten."
She felt him smile against her skin, his breath hot.
"This sounds like a little wager. Okay, if I win you have to agree to more sleepovers. In all the fun rooms of the castle."
"I'm not sleeping in the dungeon."
"Okay, no sleepover there. Maybe just a rendezvous?"
Hermione pursed her lips. "Agreed. And if I win I get my own walkie-talkie."
Ron tutted. "Not going to happen. Those are exclusive to Weasleys only."
Hermione tapped her wrist. "Tick tock."
Laughing he took her face in both his hands and kissed her forcefully.
"Right Miss Curator," he murmured into her mouth, "You. Me. Ten Minutes. Get on top and let me show how it's done."
Ten glorious minutes later, Hermione showered quickly in Ron's bathroom before re-donning her clothes. It was the best she could do if she wanted to make her meeting with Haroon.
Ron half-heartedly helped her straighten the bedroom, preferring to grab her from behind and kiss down her neck instead. She shook him off good-naturedly, vowing to return later with fresh linen. As they closed the door, Hermione knew she would never be able to show someone this room again without imagining every delectable, wicked thing they had done. Queen Victoria would be spinning in her grave.
OOO
"You look like you are in an undeservedly good mood," Harry mused as they stacked boxes of leaflets.
"I am," Ron replied simply, grinning.
"Dare I ask what or who has caused such a transformation?"
Ron stopped and swiped his brow with the back of his wrist. "Couldn't tell you mate."
Harry raised a knowing eyebrow in his direction and Ron laughed. It was one of the greatest feelings in the world, Harry thought, to see your best friend happy. It wasn't so long ago he'd half-thought Ron might burn Ottery to the ground to be rid of the difficulties it was causing.
And they still had all those problems and concerns- they hadn't gone away. But something had shifted in Ron in the past two weeks. Since right after he had decided to sell his grandfather's car. Something had happened.
Of course, it didn't take a MENSA-level IQ to figure it out; there were only so many smouldering looks and so much flirty banter you could ignore. Just this morning, Hermione had passed them on her way to the tower to do some checks on the bell and the air between the two of them had been so thick, so ripe and rosy with promise, you could have bitten it.
Harry had become quite the third wheel. It occurred to him as he and Ron walked back towards the office that this should bother him but truthfully it didn't. Ron's happiness mattered more.
"Well," Harry said now as he started bagging up the change that Kate had left from the shop till, "I hate to be bearer of bad news but I heard something today that might ruin your mood slightly."
Ron rocked back on his heels confidently. "Oh yeah? Hit me."
Harry grimaced. "Ginny rang earlier. Your mum and dad have called an emergency family meeting on Friday."
"What? Why?"
"Not sure. But they're bringing Muriel."
Now this was information that could knock the wind right out of anyone's sails. Muriel rarely came to Ottery anymore; it disgusted her to see it in such an 'abhorrent state' and, frankly, this suited Ron. He didn't want to see Muriel in Ottery or anywhere else for that matter. He tolerated her for the family and for his mum, who still felt some responsibility and debt to her Great-Aunt. But that didn't mean he would roll out the red carpet.
Even the thought of it now was ruining his mood, which had been excellent.
Only one thing for it.
"Where are you going?" Harry called after him as he walked purposefully out of the office.
"Got to go do a thing."
OOO
"Hey."
Hermione's mouth curved into a smile. Not turning around, she replied with a 'hey' of her own and carried on with her examination.
He remained silent behind her but she could sense he was still there, watching her. The air was rapidly charging up with the energy of illicit intentions; she could almost feel it moving over the skin on her forearms, fluttering the downy hair there.
Getting to her feet, she made a point of dusting herself down and adjusting her boiler suit. Then she ran her hand over the smooth, patinaed surface of the bell, as though considering what to do next.
His hand slid over the top of hers, their fingers intermingling, while his other hand crept round her hip and came to rest on her belly.
"I've missed you," he murmured into her hair and the soft, gravelly texture of his voice communicated exactly what this meant.
Hermione, for her part, was unable to formulate a coherent response. Whatever it was he did to her, it robbed her of the ability to generate sentences. His hand moved up over her stomach and breastbone. His fingers found the zip and started trailing it downwards. Her head rocked back and came to rest on his shoulder and she relished the sensation of cool air caressing her skin as each inch was exposed.
He planted a row of chaste kisses down her cheekbone. When he reached her nose, Hermione turned her face towards him and he took her mouth with his.
Suddenly the agonizing build up- which had seemed so long and was, in reality, seconds- was over and they tore at each other hungrily. Everything switched on, each sensation heightened. The wet graze of Ron's mouth as it devoured hers, the scrape of the zip, the bite of the air on one shoulder where he peeled fabric from skin.
Somehow they freed her arms, the boiler suit pooling around her waist and the length of her stomach pressed flat against his. Clawing her fingers into the flesh at the tops of his arms, Hermione bit lightly on his bottom lip, eliciting a moan that kicked her excitement to the next level.
Ron kissed his way over her collarbone, licking the dip in her throat, enjoying the sweetness of her. He wanted this so much he was losing his fucking mind and it made him aggressive and needy. It constantly amazed him how just being near Hermione now could take him from nought to ten in minutes; how she generated a want in him, an inner itch that only she could satisfy.
He swept her against the wall of the bell tower with one strong arm. He heard her exhale sharply as her back hit the stone, her fingernails dragging over his shoulders, teeth razing his earlobe.
He wrenched the khaki material down over her hips before becoming distracted by the sensation of soft cotton knickers under the pads of his fingers. Deftly he ran his hand low over her pelvis and used two fingers to firmly rub the wet fabric between the curve of her thighs.
Hermione groaned, head loose on her neck. The assertive, steady movement of Ron's fingers, now inside her knickers, coupled with the rough rasp of the stonework on the skin of her back felt incredible and it was quickly driving her to the edge. She ground down against him, bouncing on her toes to generate more friction.
Hermione was rapidly losing control, Ron could tell. Her eyes were almost black and her breathing had become ragged. He felt her stomach muscles clench hard so he flipped his hand and hooked her knickers to one side with his thumb.
He buried himself inside her, the force of his thrusts lifting her off her feet. He could feel her scrabbling for purchase against him so he pressed her body firmly against the wall, trapping her and reducing their range of movement. He slowed right down, pushing his forehead against hers and forcing her to refocus.
The stimulation was different here, the texture of it had changed. Ron could feel it and he knew Hermione could too because she stopped writhing. Her lips parted and she exhaled in tiny gasps. He pressed his open mouth lightly to hers and shared her breath, staring into her coal-like eyes. She yelped into his mouth and he could practically taste her arousal.
Each stroke into her felt deeper and tighter and unconsciously Ron started moving quicker as the tension began to build again. Dimly, he was aware he would need to apologise to her afterwards for what was surely going to be an admirable set of scrapes on her back. The thought slowed him for a second. Hermione groaned impatiently and bounced against him and he doubled his efforts, smiling against her shoulder as she bit the freckled skin of his.
They met orgasm at full tilt, pushing together hard until the vibrations shimmering through their bodies had faded.
Ron lifted his face and touched the tip of his nose to her cheek. Hermione was panting and felt slick under his hands with their combined sweat. She smiled, completely spent, and he kissed her softly.
"I really. Missed you."