It's late at night at the Three Broomsticks. Dark clouds rumble in the distance. Much is silent in Hogsmeade. Alas, much noise is blaring from inside Madame Rosmerta's most-loved pub.
Ron Weasley spends his nights here. He's had a long day at the Aurors' Office...as he always does. He guzzles butterbeers as if they were water. The mugs refill themselves as they're emptied.
Madame Rosmerta wanders here and there, serving beverages to other patrons. A cloth floats here and there, wiping up the tables.
Rosmerta shows off her low-cut to Ron. She tries to remain subtle about it...but any fool can see-who's not flooded with butterbeer-that Ron is this close to living one of his most sacred MILF fantasies.
And yet, ANOTHER one of Ron's MILF fantasies wanders in through the pub's front door. It's Fleur Delacour-or Fleur Weasley, as British wizardry's still trying to get used to calling her. At least Ron's mother has. Bless her soul.
She caresses her husband, Bill, as he's sharing way too many laughs with way too many he-wizards. She stuffs an herb in his mouth-which freshens his breath in an instant-and kisses him. She flaps her blonde hair. She overrelies on her French accent to communicate...
Ron looks her way, and grins from behind his mug. He delights in what will happen next.
She comes over. She expresses her low-cut. She caresses his Weasley-like ginger hair. She kisses him on the head, and leaves him be. He watches her from behind as she does...as he did when he first laid eyes on her. He still remembers that school year in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, when he and Harry Potter were in their fourth year at the school, and the Beauxbatons chicks expressed the best of themselves for all of the Hogwarts students in the hall as they ate-or hesitated from eating, in the case of all the male students...
You'd think that after over a decade of evolution, the married Ron Weasley would learn to look at other women less. But alas, in the grand scheme of things...there is no cure for masculinity, is there?
And Ron's a wizard. Magic amplifies everything inside the body, including testosterone...
Is there tripe in his stomach? I'm sure a lot of ladies have been wondering that about him ever since first laying eyes on him...assuming that they can see past Harry Potter, who's almost always with him...
Ron staggers through the streets, trying to find his way home. He'd ask an Auror for help getting home...if only he wasn't an Auror himself.
He passes Padma Patel on the street. He beams, and waves at her. He behaves as if he's drunk. She avoids him, of course.
She probably remembers how much he neglected and abused her at the Yule Ball all those years ago. But of course he would; he wanted to go to that ball with a French witch who's two years older than him...
His wife once thought of Indian-Britons as pathological homewreckers. But ever since the Yule Ball, she hasn't been so sure...
At last, he finds his place. He stumbles through the front gate, and across the lawn. He reaches in his robes for his wand. It's not there. He chuckles, raises his hand in the air, and Accios it. It conjures itself into his hand.
His wife doesn't remember him excelling that much in Transfiguration when he was at Hogwarts. But then, judging what's about to happen next, he'd better be as up-to-date on his magic as he can possibly be...
He tries to use the key to unlock the front door. The key doesn't fit. Confused, he uses Alohomora. That doesn't work either. He remembers a spell his wife used to break Sirius Black out of a prison a very long time ago. He stands back, points his wand at the door, and shouts, "BOMBARDA!"
The door explodes. The shock sends Ron flying backwards. He smashes the gate, and skids across the street. He's sore all over. Debris lies all around him. His robes are torn all over him.
He groans as he rolls over on his side. His front door is smoking...and there's a red flame coming from it.
A witch, dressed in dark clothing, rises above it. Her eyes glow bright blue. She bares fangs, and spreads black wings. Her hair is black.
Oh bloody hell; Hermione's having a mood swing again! And there ain't no way Ron-Ron's scurrying away from this with his welfare intact!