Kissing a sober Ron was only marginally better than kissing a drunken Ron. Yes, he no longer tasted repulsively of alcohol, but there was still rather more saliva involved than fastidious Hermione could have desired. No matter: she had a job to do. She skimmed one hand inside his robes and arrowed it south over his abdomen, teasingly making a pause to circle his navel. He groaned into her mouth and kissed her harder. She wrapped her free arm around his neck, still keeping him distracted by how close her fingers were to his groin, then relentlessly pinched down.