Chapter 1: Wanting to Lick Chocolate

The whistle blew just as Ron Weasley blocked yet another attempted shot of the Quaffle.

"Galvin caught the Snitch! Team A wins! Nice scrimmage, everybody!" Chudley Cannons Chaser and Captain Angelina Johnson called. "Hit the showers!"

Smiling, Ron turned his broom back down to Earth. The team was ready to beat the Holyhead Harpies in the Regional final; he could feel it!

Luxuriating in the locker room shower, Ron had time to think. At 32 years old, his career as a professional Quidditch player was going better than he had hoped. After the War, he had spent a few years in the Ministry's Auror Department under his brother-in-law and best friend, Harry Potter. Oh, Ron had managed to put away a few Death Eaters, but he had never felt... happy. No, tired would be a better word. He felt tired after chasing down bad guys since he was 11. So, when Gordon Horton retired as Keeper for his favorite Quidditch team, Ron tried out to fill the post. He won it, and achieved a lifelong dream.

However, they was still something Ron wanted. Peeking out from underneath the towel drying his hair, he stole a glance at Angelina Johnson. His old schoolmate's immaculate chocolate skin peeked out from underneath her casual change of clothes. And those did wonders to the shape of her arse...

Ducking back under the towel, Ron felt his pants tighten. Why did he have to be such a little boy about this? Why couldn't he march over there, and ask that ebony beauty on a proper date...?

"Ron? Earth to Ron?" The towel was suddenly yanked from his head to find Angelina grinning at him. "Come on, silly! You've been drying your hair for the last ten minutes!"

Ron blushed as red as his hair. "Sorry, Ange." Keeper and Chaser headed for the bus. It would take them to a Portkey bound for Estonia, where the Regional final was to be held.

"Hurry up, you guys!" Beater Joey Jenkins hollered.

"Just a sec, guys. Gotta make a call." Ron nodded for Angelina to go on ahead of him. Then, he pulled out his Muggle cell phone. He knew she would prefer he contact this way...

"Hello?"

"Hey, Hermione, it's me."

Ron could almost feel Hermione bristle over the phone. "Ronald? What did I tell you about calling?"

"To check with Harry first or relay through him. I know, but I'm kind of in a hurry. The bus is about to leave for Estonia."

"Of course it is. Because Quidditch is all the Telly's been turned to for the last week! Your son won't shut up about it!"

Ron softly smiled. "That's my boy. What time is it there?"

"Almost six. Dinner will be out any minute..."

"Can you put them on?" When she didn't answer, he added, "Please?"

Hermione sighed. "Speaker phone." Soon, Ron could hear his children's voices.

"Hi, Daddy!"

"Is that my Rosie?" Ron teased his six-year-old daughter.

"Oi! What about me?" cried an indignant toddler voice.

"Yes, what about you! Hi, Hugo."

"Dad! You were bloody brilliant in that save against Puddlmere United! Go Cannons!"

"Language, Hugo," Hermione's voice wafted into the receiver. Ron only laughed.

"Thanks, kiddo."

"Daddy? When are you coming home?" Rose pleaded sweetly.

"I don't know, princess. We'll see. Soon, OK? I love you."

"Love you too!" the children chorused.

"Put your Mummy on."

Hermione came back on the line. "Estonia, huh?"

"I packed my overcoat, in case you were wondering."

Hermione gave a barely perceptible chuckle.

"Mione... we'll talk soon about arrangements, OK?"

"Sure. And Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"... Good luck."

Ron smiled wistfully. "Thanks. I... See ya."

"See ya... Won-Won." She hung up before he could object.

Ron shook his head in amusement as he clambered up the bus steps. Some things never changed!