Based on characters created by J. K. Rowling

Madam Hooch and the Professor

Rolanda Hooch was angry! How could she do that to her? Didn't she realize how important Charlie Weasley was to the game of Quidditch? Defence against the Dark Arts Professor Marisol Grimaldi had the nerve to put Charlie in detention before an important match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw and Charlie needed to be there. Well, the new upstart needed a good talking to.

Rolanda stormed down to the dungeon and knocked furiously on the door. After what seemed to be an eternity, the door was slowly pulled opened and there she stood. She had a smile on her face that stopped her dead in her tracks. Her soft amber-colored eyes lit up. "Ah, Madam Hooch, I presume." She offered her hand. "I'm so sorry that we hadn't had the chance to meet before now. I'm Marisol Grimaldi."

Her breath stalled in her lungs, she couldn't breathe. Why had she come? Oh yes, Charlie Weasley.

"Professor," she began.

Marisol's tingling laugh gave her a nerve twitch in her left wrist. "Please, call me Marisol. Come in. I'm afraid my detention class is quite large." She shook her head and leaned in, almost touching Rolanda, "Sometimes I think they're bad on purpose, I just don't understand teenagers," she chuckled again.

She glided to the front of her class, and the 10 boys and five girls followed the sensuous sway of her hips. She turned once she reached her desk and leaned in again, whispering, "I hate giving lines, I wish I had something more productive to do for them."

Rolanda watched her as she slid her hand to her upswept chestnut hair. An errant strand fell down around her long white neck, and Rolanda licked her lips and almost reached out to put it back in place. Marisol parted her lips and looked at her knowingly. She closed her eyes as she smiled, enjoying some delicious moment.

"Excuse me for one moment," she said, turning to the class. She walked over to the desk where Charlie sat, put her hands on both sides and leaned over. "Mr. Weasley, if you don't write, you'll never get out of here, and I really don't think you want to spend the night here with me."

Charlie turned a deep red and made a noise that sounded a lot like, "Gah." He dropped his quill and spilled ink all over the parchment.

"Tergeo," Marisol said, pointing her wand at the inky mess on Charlie's paper. The ink disappeared quickly.

"Sorry," Marisol said, turned back to Madam Hooch. "You wanted to speak with me?"

Rolanda cleared her throat, "Um, I wanted to talk to you about…" All of a sudden she couldn't remember why she was there. She watched as she bit her lip and the urge to kiss those pouty lips almost became too much to bear.

"Yes?" She whispered, looking at her expectantly, her lips parting, and her breathing seemed to increase as well. Or was that her imagination? The woman couldn't possibly know the lusty things what she was thinking.

"Mr. Weasley," she cleared her throat and spoke very low so that the other students couldn't hear. "I hate to do this, Mari--, uh Professor, but I'm going to ask that you release Mr. Weasley and maybe consider detention another time."

"Oh?" Marisol touched her forearm. Her touch was warm. "Of course. Mr. Weasley?" she turned to him. "You may leave with Madam Hooch."

"But I haven't finished my lines," he said.

Marisol blessed him with a smile. "I'll arrange for another time."

Charlie reluctantly rose out of his seat, and stuffed the quill, ink, and parchment back into his bag and stood up. He held his bag closely in front of him. Madam Hooch prodded him to walk in front of her.

"Madam Hooch," Marisol said seductively, "Please stop by my room sometime so we can become better acquainted. I have an excellent French elf-made wine I'm sure you'll absolutely love."

Rolanda swallowed hard, turned a deep shade of red and made a noise that sounded like, "Gah."

A/N: Marisol Grimaldi is an OC that I invented for a series of stories involving Charlie and Professor Snape (not together, you sillies). She's a very interesting character.--Rita