Rating:
R
House:
Astronomy Tower
Characters:
Hermione Granger Ron Weasley
Genres:
Romance Humor
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Quidditch Through the Ages Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
Stats:
Published: 08/22/2004
Updated: 08/22/2004
Words: 4,342
Chapters: 1
Hits: 1,141

Airing Bilius

Moon Weasley

Story Summary:
Hermione watched his poor performance with what looked like growing irritation. Finally she snapped.````“Honestly, can’t you do anything without my help?”````Ron barely had time to register her question before Hermione had taken four purposeful strides towards him, swatted his uncooperative hands away and grabbed hold of the problem at hand. ```` ~``A story about how Ron and Hermione managed to bicker and nag themselves from just friends to something (much) more...

Chapter Summary:
Hermione watched his poor performance with what looked like growing irritation. Finally she snapped.
Posted:
08/22/2004
Hits:
1,141


Airing Bilius

By Moon Weasley

It was a normal evening by most standards at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Classes had been held as usual with no major incidents to report. Only three students had been caught by Filch performing magic in the corridors that day, and they were at present time serving a very uncomfortable detention cleaning the dungeon lavatories. Peeves had caused a minor explosion in professor Snape's private potions storeroom much to the Potion Master's dismay and the poltergeist's cackling joy. Dinner had been served, eaten and magically cleared, and all students had returned to their respective common rooms, some to complete their homework and some not.

All in all it was a perfectly harmonious and peaceful evening at the old castle, or at least it had been until a loud bang suddenly broke the silence.

"Ruddy know-it all!" grumbled a male voice.

This outburst was followed by a string of very colourful profanities as the owner of said voice stomped along the corridor in what could only be described as a thundering rage. The Fat Lady (who'd toppled off her velvety chair as her portrait was slammed shut) tisked disapprovingly.

"They're still at it I see," she muttered to herself shaking her head. "At this rate they'll never get it together before graduation." She grimaced. "I hate it when Vi's right..."

The boy was one Ronald Weasley, seventh year student, Prefect and Quidditch Captain residing in the house of Gryffindor. And right now he was also relatively pissed off. He continued his angry march down a set of stairs and into a new corridor all the while cursing the fact that Hogwarts provided very few places fit for a moment's undisturbed solitude.

No classrooms were ever really empty, nor were the many broom closets. And the Astronomy Tower - bah! He didn't even want to think about that. He passed the supposedly empty Charms classroom, heard a faint giggle and something that sounded suspiciously like a suppressed moan. I rest my case, he thought sarcastically. Fleetingly he considered barging in and flashing his Prefect badge at the unsuspecting couple but quickly dismissed the notion. He had more - pressing - matters to take care off.

Eventually he decided the Prefect Meeting Room to be his best shot at privacy (honestly who would think to go there - voluntary?). He slid inside and cast a locking charm on the door. Soon he was seated in his usual chair his thoughts going to the event that had caused him to flee Gryffindor Tower like his pants were on fire. And in all honesty they really were just that...

It was nothing new really, fighting with Hermione. They'd done so for more than six years, and they'd sort of perfected it with time. She would say something or the other, Ron would then proceed to either mock, contradict or tease her about her earlier statement. Hermione would then retaliate in her most I-know-best-so-just-shut-it manner and voila: Let the bickering commence.

Once or twice a week the bickering would evolve into a full-fledge row where they would stand several feet apart and scream their heads off until Harry lost his patience, Hermione started to cry or Ron became hungry and left for the kitchens. Tonight had been a row-night.

Secretly Ron loved to bicker with Hermione. More often than not he would deliberately pick fights with her, not that he'd ever admit to this of course. For the longest time he hadn't really known why he did so. Naturally he knew it was a cruel thing to do especially since it often resulted in Hermione storming off in either tears or a raging huff and then they wouldn't talk for days. But with time he had reluctantly admitted, albeit only to himself, that he did it because he quite frankly enjoyed rowing with her.

It was fun, challenging and a right kick to be totally honest. It was sort of like chess; you had to try and figure out what strategy and line of reasoning Hermione would choose and then try to pick her arguments apart. Truthfully he wasn't as naturally adept at this as chess but he'd improved with time and these days he could proudly say that he beat her at least four out of ten times.

Groaning Ron shredded his robe and proceeded to pull of his jumper. It was damned hot in here, wasn't it? Raking a shaking hand through his tousled hair he wondered how on earth this had happened. He stared down at his crotch in utter disbelief. He'd felt many a thing during and after fights with Hermione: anger, annoyance, triumph, adrenaline rushes, jealousy, sadness you name it but never before had Little Bilius made such a grand appearance as this.

Little Bilius (who wasn't so little by the way!) had over the years developed a nasty habit of enlarging himself when in the presence of Hermione much to Ron's great discomfort. The silliest things could inflate it and many a time had Ron suffered through lessons, meals, study time etc sporting a huge hard on with no way of doing anything about it other than try to produce increasingly nasty images in his mind such as Hagrid in a pink tutu. Lately anything seemed to send his blood streaming south, but it wasn't until recently that rowing with her had produced this effect.

Tonight his perverted brain had begun wondering just how wild Hermione would be during sex. When reviewed objectively it was a valid sort of question, really. She was all red in the face from screaming, her hair had started escaping that messy pony tail of hers and the top three buttons of her school shirt were undone giving ample view of her beautiful neck and upper chest. To sum it all up, she looked damned sexy. Wild and sexy to be precise.

And so Perverted Brain and Little Bilius had instantly joined forces, and before Ron knew what hit him he was entertaining some very naughty thoughts. With each passing second his dick had gotten bigger and harder and if he'd stayed for only a second longer Ron was quite sure he'd run the risk of Little Bilius fighting his way out of his pants in the middle of the common room. Naturally he'd fled!

And here he was in the effing Prefects meeting room sporting the world's biggest hard-on and feeling thoroughly embarrassed. He couldn't go back in this state that much was certain. Ron could almost hear his dorm mates reactions if they ever got wind off this. Seamus would surely try to educate Ron on the finer points of sexuality in his tasteless perverted way, Neville would quietly snicker and Dean the darned artist that he was would probably illustrate the whole thing with embarrassing imagery. And Harry... Ron didn't even want to think about Harry's reaction. His best friend would never taunt him or anything but it was just that Harry was - well too perceptive and observant for Ron's taste. In fact he wouldn't be the least bit surprised if Harry had manage to puzzle the pieces together and not only figure out why Ron had stormed off but also what or more precisely who'd caused it.

Knowing that he had to deflate Little Bilius somehow and preferably as soon as possible Ron braced himself for the arrival of another disturbing Hagrid-image. He only got as far as mentally picturing the half giant's wooden hut when he stopped himself. Those images were brutally effective but also had a nasty tendency to reappear in the form of nightmares later, and for obvious reasons Ron wasn't much keen on that.

But he couldn't... ehh... polish his wand here, could he?

What if someone walked in on him? But who'd come here a little voice inside him asked alluringly. Almost three years of Prefect patrols and Ron had yet do discover anyone hiding out in here after curfew. What were the odds of someone coming her tonight?

A short time later Ron had succumbed to his inner voice. He expertly unzipped his pants and was in the process of whipping his aching cock out of his restraining boxer shorts when he heard someone angrily bark "Alohomora!" Dick in hand Ron heard the lock click open and utterly frozen in action he stupidly watched the door burst open and in tumbled Hurricane Hermione.

"Ronald Weasley!" she yelled in a high pitched voice glaring murderously at his by now deep scarlet face.

"You are by far the most childish and immature git I've ever had the misfortune to meet!"

She was waving her wand around haphazardly as she said this making Ron fear for his own safety. Red sparks flew out of the wand tip during a particularly vigorous gesture, and they ricocheted off the wall behind her. Hermione however didn't seem to notice this nor Ron's exposed member, so great was her rage.

"You do not storm out on me in a middle of a discussion like a spoilt three year old who doesn't get his way! Everyone in Gryffindor is probably having a right good laugh at my expense right about now. Honestly, what were you thinking storming off without a word of explanation? That's just not done. It's not good manners!"

And screaming our heads off at each other in public is? Ron thought sarcastically. However given his rather embarrassing predicament he couldn't seem to work his vocal chords. While Hermione continued to yell at him Ron desperately tried to come up with a solution to his problem.

The way he saw it he could either a) somehow manage to discreetly tuck Little Bilius back into his pants without Hermione noticing, b) bolt from the room before she saw It and then pray she'd forgive him for running out on her for the second time in fifteen minutes or c) Obliviate her.

Though option A definitely was the most preferable solution Ron reluctantly dismissed it. It would be a near impossible feat anyway and was thus destined to fail. His cock was so hard the only way to get it back into his pants would be by use of massive force, something which Hermione was bound to notice. Because let's face it: The girl was perceptive.

Option B was instantly dismissed. He was not running away again. Hermione would flay him alive and feed him to Aragog. Ron did not fancy become spider snack.

That left option C - Memory charm.

Ron whipped his wand (the real one) out of his pocket aiming it at Hermione. Unfortunately for him this movement caught Hermione's attention. That was not a desired effect. She stopped in mid rant and before Ron had the presence of mind to utter the correct incantation his best friend was staring wide eyed and mouth agape at - that area.

Hermione made a strangled sort of noise (Ron thought it sounded like a dying Skrewt), and if he'd only been able to move (he felt completely bodybinded) Ron would have searched for that huge hole that he just knew had to be there for him to disappear into. This just wasn't happening!

Hermione maintained her gaping position for some excruciatingly long seconds before she appeared to have come to some sort of decision of how to react. Ron watched her draw her breath, and with fierce determination she pursed her lips in a very McGonagallish way.

"I would appreciate it if you could cover yourself up, Ronald," she said briskly gesturing at his throbbing member. "It's generally considered rude to sit about with ones genitals on display for the entire world to see. As Head Girl I'm obligated to deduct a round ten points for this indecent behaviour."

Now it was Ron's turn to gape like trout on dry land. She was actually lecturing him? And deducting points? Was she mad? Didn't she realize that deducting points meant that she would have to protocol his crime and attest to it?

Ron mentally slapped his head. Of course she knew that - she was Hermione! Was she deliberately trying to make him the laughing stock of Hogwarts? Come noon tomorrow and all residents of Hogwarts would know! Malfoy would have a field day, that ferrety fuck!

"You're reporting this?" he roared in utter disbelief.

"Naturally," she replied businesslike. "You're in direct violation of the school rules. It's my sworn duty to see that you receive the proper punishment for your blatant disrespect for the regulative terms of this school."

Ron was seething. She was just such a prissy know-it-all! Here he was in a - sticky - sort of predicament and she was regurgitating the Hogwarts rulebook and reporting him like a - a Slytherin!

Ron jumped angrily to his feet advancing on her.

"You're fucking unbelievable!" he shrieked. "We're supposedly friends and still you plan on dobbing me in?"

Hermione rolled her eyes in a bored manner. "Don't get all huffy at me just because you chose to disregard the rules. And didn't I also request that you cover yourself up. Your penis is still erect and exposed in case you didn't know."

Ron wanted to nail her with a snappy comment but all he managed to do was sputter incoherently. How did Hermione manage to stay so cool and - well undisturbed by this he wondered? Merlin knew if it had been the other way around he would be anything but collected that much was certain.

Naturally Perverted Brain and Little Bilius grabbed hold of this little plot bunny and before Ron could stop it these two rascals were rapidly spinning a very pretty picture indeed of him walking in on a blissfully naked Hermione, sprawled in all her glory on her school robes pleasing herself.

Little Bilius twitched eagerly much like the tail of a very excited dog and Ron failed to suppress a throaty moan. Hermione tisked and clucked her tongue. Sometimes Ron couldn't help but wonder if she was actually channelling McGonagall, so much did she resemble their Head of House.

That thought was so highly unappealing that Ron instantly began making fumbling attempts at guiding his cock back into his boxer. However Ron soon discovered that when you're suffering from mortal embarrassment, sweaty palms and an overly aroused member such an assignment is very difficult indeed.

Hermione watched his poor performance with what looked like growing irritation. Finally she snapped.

"Honestly, can't you do anything without my help?"

Ron barely had time to register her question before Hermione had taken four purposeful strides towards him, swatted his uncooperative hands away and grabbed hold of his dick.

The whole scene was so surreal Ron could barely believe it was happening. If it weren't for the fact that Hermione was shaking her head and muttering words that sounded like "...stupid prat...what was he thinking?...poking this thing around in here of all places..." Ron would've sworn he was hallucinating.

Incapable of movement he stared dumbfounded from Hermione to his dick and back again. Is this actually happening or am I dreaming again? He pinched his arm and yelped in pain.

"Stop shouting, I'm hardly hurting you, am I?"

Hermione arched an impatient eyebrow at him. Ron shook his head and produced more sound - this time in the form of a moan. Hermione might think she was helping him but in all honesty her ministrations were only adding to his arousal. Still he was unable to walk away or tell her to stop.

It's the closest you'll ever get to fulfill your fantasy. Better enjoy it while it lasts and worry about the embarrassment later.

Deciding that his inner voice was the epitome of wisdom Ron closed his eyes. If she wanted to fondle his erection who was he to object?

Hermione on the other hand appeared blissfully unaware of the effect her helpful hands were having on him and thus continued to rant in her usual fashion.

"It's not as if I take particularly pleasure in arguing with you or anything, but when we do engage in a spot of verbal sparring I really do expect you to abide by the unspoken argumentation rules that all well mannered people do. It's one thing that you lack a certain refinement when it comes to the manner in which you present your arguments - that I can overlook. But to storm out just as I was about to present my counter arguments, well that is just plain rude. And to top it off I find that you did so just so you could masturbate...is this thing supposed to be this unmanageable? What are you...?"

Ron just couldn't take it anymore.

Though he wholeheartedly tried to tune it out, her ranting still managed to seep through and mess up his very enjoyable fantasy. He had to silence her somehow and given the present situation he did the only thing Perverted Brain found logical:

He kissed her.

For about three seconds Hermione did nothing. Then suddenly she seemed to realize what was happening and abruptly pulled away from him.

Ron groaned in disappointment. Kissing Hermione had set his already heated body virtually ablaze. It was even better than he'd ever imagined, and she hadn't even kissed him back!

Perverted Brain couldn't help but spin a very vivid thought about what it would feel like if she actually did kiss him back making Little Bilius swell to new proportions. Ron moaned in anticipation and took a step towards the still gob-smacked Hermione. This seemed to bring her out of her daze.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Hermione rasped breathlessly staring at him with wide eyes. Ron took another step towards her, grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her back against him. Hermione gulped nervously.

"Shhh..." he whispered huskily. "This is all your fault you know." He nodded towards Little Bilius who was still residing in Hermione's by now limp grip.

"M-my fault?" Suddenly Hermione's voice sounded anything but businesslike. "How can -that - be my fault?" Ron laughed outright shaking his head.

"You have no idea how incredibly sexy you are, do you?"

Hermione's eyes bulged, and she let out an incredulous snort. "Sexy? I hardly think so." Suddenly some of her Hermione-ishness seemed to be returning. Ron grinned. He loved it when she got snappy with him.

"I'm too small, I don't wear make-up, I'm terribly average looking and my hair has officially been named a national disaster area. Combined with my far from flirtatious nature I'd say anyone who find me sexy or even remotely attractive is either severely brain damaged or flat out desperate."

Ron chuckled inwardly as he watched her try to stay cool and collected and failing miserably. For once his impulsive urge had actually led to a good thing: Kissing Hermione had definitely turned the tables in his direction. Although he was the one airing his wand Hermione seemed to be the one feeling most awkward at the moment.

Wonder why that is?

Ron cocked his head and studied her face intently. Hermione blushed and averted her eyes. Perhaps she needs to be kissed more soundly Ron hopefully wondered.

"I'd say you're wrong," he murmured sweetly. "I think you're very sexy indeed. And I believe I'm about to prove it to you..."

Surrendering to his impulse for the second time in less than three minutes Ron leaned in and claimed her lips once again.

This time there was response!

After hesitating briefly Hermione returned the kiss. It was timid at first but once Ron's arms had found their way around her waist she seemed to regain some of her confidence. It didn't take long before his tongue was granted access to her mouth and the kissing intensified. Perverted Brain was instantly put horribly to shame: The reality was ten times better than the fantasy!

"See?" panted Ron in between fevered kisses. "Do you still think you're not sexy?" Hermione's hands travelled quickly to his hair, and with surprising force she crushed his mouth to hers. Just as abruptly she pulled away.

"This hardly proves a thing," was her breathless reply. "I've read that teenaged boys get turned on by the strangest of things and that the average male has an erect penis at least thirty percent of the day. Chance is I just caught up with you at one of those times."

Hermione breath was teasing Ron's ear as she spoke causing trillions of shivers to run through his body. Still he managed to chuckle softly at her words.

"We're practically tearing each other clothes off and you still find it prudent to lecture me?" One of Hermione's hands had found its way down to the small of his back gently stroking the exposed skin between his undershirt and pants. It was heaven and hell at once.

"I'll never tire of lecturing you, Ronald," she murmured into his ear. She caught his earlobe between her moist lips and gently sucked. "Don't you want me to lecture you?"

Ron let out a throaty moan in reply. Hermione giggled sexily. "I thought as much," was all she managed to reply before Ron had seized her lips in a heated kiss.

With each passing second their kissing became more and more heated. We kiss just like we bicker Ron noted woozily. Both are trying to outdo the other.

Despite his hazy mind that was very accurate assessment of the situation. It didn't take long before Ron's long fingers had found their way to the topmost button on Hermione's school shirt. Clumsily he started to unbutton it while never breaking away from her lips. Unfortunately the button proved to be quite uncooperative and soon Ron was releasing irritable groans into Hermione's mouth.

"Temper, temper," she admonished playfully. The button finally yielded and Ron wasted no time starting on the next. By the time he came to the third he'd lost his patience and tugged with annoyance at her shirt. Soon buttons were flying every which way. Hermione let out a horrified sounding shriek but Ron soon silenced her with a bruising kiss. When his mouth a minute later began travelling down to her neck steadily working its way towards her now exposed breasts, Hermione didn't protest. In fact if the rocking of her hips were anything to judge by, Ron would say she was rather actively egging him on. And boy was it working!

"Bloody hell, Hermione..." Ron groaned into her skin as she continued to rub herself against him. "You're killing me...feels so incredible..."

Hermione tutted.

"Failing to speak in complete sentences is not only considered uncivilized, it's also extremely annoying. If I were a professor I'd feel obligated to deduct five points for exhibiting poor speaking abilities."

She might sound like McGonagall's sister but she sure didn't act like it! While she continued to chastise him for his lacking verbal abilities Hermione put her hands to far better use. Little Bilius would be forever grateful. Perverted Brain was also strangely enough extremely content. Much to Ron's surprise it actually seemed like the combination of Hermione's very eager body and her very admonishing lecture was something Little Bilius and Perverted Brain approved wholeheartedly on.

You're a sick wanker, Weasley, Ron hazily noted (Hermione's tongue was once again playing sexily with his ear) as he leaned his head against the wall. Merlin knew how they gotten in this position.

But apparently Hermione was just as sick, because she continued to dish out lectures, scoldings and naggings in between all the snogging they indulged in. Ron had long given up paying attention to what she was saying - it was rather the tone of her voice that did it for him. She was just so - commanding. It was sexy as hell!

It didn't take long before Hermione had managed to scold and command away most of Ron's clothes as well as her own. Hands continued to roam freely and tongues explored with growing intensity. Hermione's grip on Little Bilius was once again delightfully firm much to Ron's growing enjoyment.

As their explorations became more urgent and heated Hermione's verbal outburst became both less frequent and less harsh. When Ron's mouth found its way to her womanhood words instantly turned into moans. After that she was unable to speak in coherent sentences, but Ron found he didn't mind much. It was equally magnificent hearing her moaning his name...

* * *

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"We're - uhm - sort of undressed -"

"So I've noticed."

"- and in the Prefects Meeting Room no less. Stop smirking, Ronald."

"Sorry, love but it can't be helped. We just shagged you know and I'm still in a state of euphoria."

"Did you just call me "love"? And for the love of Gryffindor, could you please try to be a little less crude."

"Why? Don't you like it?"

"Given the fact that I'm actually telling you not to use such crude language I should think it's quite clear that I don't like it. Honestly!"

"I meant do you not like it when I call you love. I figured out years ago that you don't particularly care for the nasty words."

"They why do you continue using them? And yes I do like it when you call me love."

"Mainly because I know how much it bugs you silly, love."

"You mean you deliberately try to make me mad at you?"

"Yup, sometimes."

"Why?"

"Because I like bickering with you."

"That is just plain sick! I can't believe you do that on purpose!"

"Sick or not, it's never the less the reason why we ended up sprawled deliciously nude on the floor in your beloved Meeting Room sweaty and thoroughly shagged."

"I told you to drop the crudeness!"

"Oh, love you're killing me. Bickering and lecturing at once - you're bringing Little Bilius back to life."

"Oh would you look at that? You're right."

"I don't think we'll ever make it out of this room again...

"Shut up and kiss me already!"


Author notes: Please review!