A/N: This was written for the 2020 Romione Ficlet Fest on Tumblr where it came in...basically dead last lol. Ah well. Awards aren't everything. A little bit of grown-up Ron/Hermione silliness for your reading pleasure.

"As you can see, the artist used an exceptionally unique brushstroke and the restoration process took over six years."

Ron stifled yet another yawn as the school governor droned on about the forty-fifth painting of the day. Merlin he regretted letting Hermione say yes to this invitation. He'd gotten the owl, he should have just chucked it in the bin or burned it up immediately to save them from this absolutely maddening tour of Hogwarts. He'd never found the castle boring, but then again, he'd never been taken on an historic art tour as part of a DA honors banquet either.

Ginny kept falling asleep on her feet, Harry nudging her with an amused expression every time she let out a little snore. Early on George had kept trying to get the portraits to swear, Angelina egging him on, much to the disgruntlement of their tour guide, but apparently even they had given up trying to make this evening more palatable.

"Now we will move to the fourth floor corridor where a number of suits of armor have just recently been donated from a wonderful donor."

Ron surreptitiously checked his watch and nearly moaned aloud. They'd been at this for an hour and a half and so far the only person who didn't seem to be in a complete stupor was Hermione. The DA members were all in their early twenties for crying out loud, not geriatric. Whoever had decided this should be the evening's entertainment had clearly been misguided.

"Ron come on!" Hermione's whisper pulled him from his mental misery and he realized the others had already turned the corner, just past a familiar door. An idea sparked in his mind and he acted before he could overthink it, giving Hermione's hand a sharp tug and pulling her through the door into what he had indeed remembered correctly as a broom closet. "Ron what—?"

His lips captured hers, silencing her protest as he pressed her up against the wall. She responded automatically, arms coming up around his neck and he'd just begun to part her lips when she pulled away. "What on earth do you think you're doing?"

"Hermione, I have a lot of regrets from Hogwarts and the biggest one is that I never got to properly snog you in a broom closet," he said.

Even in the dim light he could see her narrow her eyes in that oh-so-Hermione way. "That's your biggest regret? Not that you let Peter Pettigrew sleep in your bed for years? Or that you ate those chocolates from Romilda? Or—"

"Like I said, I have many regrets. Most of them I can't change, but this one…" He leaned forward and claimed her mouth once more, going a bit more aggressive this time to make sure she really understood his feelings. Again she kissed him back, body pressing into his until he moved to her neck and then began on the top button of her blouse.

"Ronald Weasley, this is completely inappropriate!" She hissed batting at his hands.

"Students do it all the time!"

"But we're not students, we're adults, we're supposed to be on a tour—"

"Oh old Barmy Barney doesn't care. He won't even notice we're gone."

"You shouldn't call him that," Hermione admonished.

"You can't tell me you were actually enjoying looking at all those awful paintings."

"Some of them are quite old! They know loads about the school! And after the armor he was going to show us a new bust near the Hufflepuff common room."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Hermione, there's only one bust in this castle I care about right now." He slid his hands up her sides to make his point.

"We have a reception in twenty minutes," she protested, but he noted with satisfaction that she leaned into him a bit more.

"Are you telling me," he popped a second button, "that you never once thought about what might happen if we were alone in a broom closet together?"

"Of course not!" Hermione said, but her voice had gone high pitched in that way it did when she was lying, and she gasped a little as he nipped at her neck and undid another button.

Ron looked up at her and raised his eyebrows. "Well I thought about it. A lot. Every time we walked rounds as prefects."

Another button. He was truly curious how far she was going to let him go. "Ron, we have to go to dinner," she protested.

He leaned in close, breath warm on her ear. "I don't see you trying to stop me. In fact," he trailed a finger up her thigh and felt her shudder against him, "I think you're enjoying this."

She locked eyes with him and he knew immediately that he'd won. "Oh screw it," she said, grabbing his face and kissing him soundly on the lips.

She jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist and knocking over what was likely a mop handle, but Ron didn't care. This was all of his teenage dreams, every fantasy he'd ever imagined late at night in his four poster bed, coming true.

She'd tugged his shirt out of his trousers and he was making incredibly quick work of the rest of her buttons; very impressive considering what their mouths were doing. He'd have to remind her of this the next time she teased him about his inability to multi-task.

There was a loud rap and the door opened, light from the corridor blinding them both. Hermione squealed and dropped to the floor as Ron shielded his eyes. "Hi," said Neville, an amused expression on his face. "Next time you decide to have a shag in a broom closet, maybe cast a muffliato first. You're scaring the first years."

"Oh my god," Hermione gasped, fumbling with her blouse.

"I trust you can find your way down to the great hall for the reception?" Neville asked.

"Yeah I think we can find it," Ron said sourly.

"Brilliant. I'll tell everyone to expect you in five minutes? Give you a second to get yourselves together?"

More like five minutes so he could go tell every other member of the DA who, no doubt, were waiting to find out where the Granger-Weasleys had disappeared to. "Thanks Neville!" Ron said loudly as he pulled the door shut again, eyes finding his wife who was tucking her blouse back into her skirt.

"I cannot believe this!" she said. "We step one foot back in the place and we're in trouble again!"

"Could have been worse."

She glared at him. "How could it have possibly been worse Ronald?"

"Well you could have been completely starkers. Or it could have been McGonagall."

She bit her lip but he could tell she was fighting back a smile.

"It's not like Neville can give us detention, even if he is a teacher." He grabbed her around the waist with one hand, pulling her flush against him while he waved his wand with the other. "Muffliato."

She gasped. "Ron what are you doing, we have to get to dinner—"

He grinned at her wickedly. "We've already been caught. We might as well finish what we started."

A/N: Thanks for reading! Leave your love in the reviews!