Author's Arrogant Rant: To all those reviewers who swore they stop reading or wouldn't read anymore till I'm finished - SHUT UP! If you are reading this, as this is the latest and greatest chapter… and I'm not finished, then you need to finally admit the truth. You're reading a pretty good story.
Not like there aren't other good stories out there for you to invest your time with… tons of them in fact. I must be doing something right because it sure isn't my grammar skills that bring you back. Take the last chapter where I wrote a few amusing visual sentences, like Ron "drooling," or the Garden Gnome was "pancaked looking." Now, I could've used other words, but I chose those silly descriptions for the funny imagery in your head. That's right - I'm in your head. Don't believe me? You just read, "pancaked" and now you're thinking that you're hungry for pancakes… with syrup and butter on top of a tall stack of hot, sweet tasting pancakes. You can almost taste the syrup dripping pancake on the end of your fork as you are about to…
It's scary how good I am.
With this story all I had to do was add a bit of intrigue that keeps everyone guessing, a lot of romantic angst that makes you solicit for resolution, a dash of wizard dueling action, a smidge of murdering and conspiracy suspense, and you got a Neville size cauldron explosion about to happen. The question is – when?
Psst… come closer, closer to the screen... closer.
Now read this:
The when is when I decide when and we both know you'll be there reading it when it happens.
Beta's Note: Like any fully realized story, the romance is not the only thing that is going on here. Don't get too caught up in trying to will Ron and Hermione back together. You might miss the twists and turns. Alfred Hitchcock was known as the master of suspense. It was said that his films always had a murder and a love affair. Not only that, but they were interrelated. The difference between the two was that a murder was permanent. While this is a bit contrived, the point is that you watch those films for both plots, not just the romance. So, no, Hermione is not in this chapter, but Ron is kind of trying to save the world. Or at least figure out this Immortal business. That should kind of demand some of your attention. Otherwise, just go read a romance novel and change all the names to "Ron" and "Hermione."
:::
Chapter 25 – Bright lights of Paris
"What else did you say to her?"
"I… I might've said that you loved her and then pointed out or mentioned… I'm a little bit fuzzy on the exact details," Ron said, as he explained the previous conversation he had with Headmistress McGonagall.
"Get unfuzzy and spit it out," barked Gerard MacKay, as he scowled at Ron.
"That… women like her… and Hermione never appreciate men like us… for loving them," Ron nervously explained.
Gerard still seemed eager to hex him. "Then what?"
"Well, she yelled at me to get out. Oh wait, she told me to move on then she tossed me out." Ron remembered that part quite clearly.
"Did you say anything else to her? Something that would make her angry enough to send me a howler?" Gerard impatiently inquired.
Ron started to remember his last words and realized what Gerard was fishing for.
"I… I think I said something to the effect that she had pretended how useless we were in order to upgrade to a better job as Headmistress. Then she tossed me out. She definitely has a bit of an anger control issue. Hermione is the same way," Ron added, without mentioning how sharp his wit and tongue was during that meeting.
Gerard grunted in acknowledgement, as he pointed toward his office at the back of the bar. Ron followed as Gerard made his way through the bar, opened the door and motioned for Ron to enter. As he took the first chair in front of Gerard's desk, he immediately noticed a bottle of French wine sitting on the top of the broad oak desk.
"Never fall in love Weasley. You'll be a happier man if you don't," Gerard stated, as he picked up his wastebasket and revealed the torn up pieces of a howler letter.
Ron's heartbroken heart demanded a drink to dull it in some way. Impulsively, he reached across the desk and grabbed the wine bottle. He unscrewed the top and without so much as a, 'please may I' to Gerard, he took a large swig from the bottle…and then spit it out just as quickly. It tasted completely sour and bitter, like it had gone to waste in a wine cellar somewhere.
"Blaugh, what the bloody hell is this?" Ron sputtered, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
"Vinegar!" Gerard stated as a matter of fact. "Next time, ask a man if you can drink his bottle, Weasley!" Gerard reached across his desk and pulled the bottle out of his hands. "What did you think it was... wine?"
"It looked like it was a French bottle of wine. It has a golden label with fancy French writing on it," Ron stated, as he continued to wipe his mouth.
"What French wine do you drink that has to be unscrewed? We use corks for wine you idiot."
Ron scowled while Gerard showed the bottle label to him.
"It's wine vinegar from the Ayrault vineyards. The very same Francois Ayrault who was murdered a few weeks ago outside of Courcoue," Gerard said meaningfully.
Ron nodded even though he knew the information didn't really help. After all, the ministry had a pretty good idea where Umbridge was hiding and even if they knew exactly where she was, it still wouldn't help them enter a house with a Fidelius charm cast on it. For that, they would need the Secret Keeper.
The question of the Secret Keeper brought out his thoughts. "If only we can figure out who the Secret Keeper is or why in the bloody hell he or she would bother to protect her."
Gerard nodded, signaling that he was at a loss as well.
Ron thought it best to sound out his questions and lack of progress on the case.
"I know they helped her escape and I'm pretty sure who did it, but I really don't know for what purpose. Why not bloody kill her and be done with it? They kill everyone else, the newspaper editor, the farmers who have no living relatives, several families… for what purpose?"
Gerard offered a question. "Is she a powerful witch… or is she rich?"
Ron scoffed as he answered, "On a Ministry salary – ha. And she's a mediocre witch at best. Her only talent is she is a bureaucratic arse-kisser. Kingsley called her a sycophant tyrant when she worked at the Ministry."
Gerard nodded and concluded, "She has to serve a useful purpose for them, especially after the investigation became official in this morning's paper."
Gerard magically levitated a French magical newspaper over to him.
:::
"Président Hollande autorise une enquête indépendante sur la découverte et l'arrestation du groupe terroriste connu sous le nom des Immortels. L'enquête doit être menée par le célèbre British Weasley Ron Auror. Directeur de la Justice Monsieur Delacour n'a pas pu être joint pour un commentaire."
Président Hollande authorizes an independent investigation on the discovery and arrest of the terrorist group known as the Immortals. The investigation is to be led by famed British Auror Ron Weasley. Director of Justice Monsieur Delacour could not be reached for comment.
:::
"Right now, I would be less concerned about them killing Umbridge and more concerned about them trying to kill you," Gerard warned him.
Ron smiled back at Gerard as he joked, "I'm just happy they spelled my name right. Odd how they can do it here and not in Britain."
"Yes, we'll be sure to have a Frenchmen spell your name on your tombstone," Gerard quipped.
:::
Now that Ron was leading the investigation, he had the responsibility of keeping up appearances by checking in at the French Ministry. Otherwise, greater suspicions would fall upon him and his movements.
When he crossed the bridge over the underground Seine River and entered the opulent Ministry building, he had the unmistakable feeling that he was being watched and followed. Giving him an even more eerie feeling was that he quickly noticed all the French ministry employees walking through the lobby changed their path away from him as soon as they noticed him. Their conversations would abruptly pause and they'd quickly glanced away from him as he approached. It wasn't until he reached his office on the third floor did he finally receive an acknowledgement.
"Good Morning, Ronald."
Ron smiled in reply at the seductive Miss Poesy, who was waiting for him outside of his office and carrying a stack of pink colored parchments.
"I haz a lot of paperwork for you this morning," Miss Posey warned him, as she handed the stack of paperwork over to him.
Ron outwardly groaned even though he was inwardly rejoicing at seeing the sexy secretary again. She had a very sweet smile around the most kissable lips he had ever seen. Moreover, the crimson red lipstick she wore begged for even the most loyal of boyfriends to wager a blissful turn at infidelity. It was causing his mind to race at creating an opportunity to do just that.
"These are the new ministry regulations from zee President's office," Miss Posey said as she strutted into his office and then stopped abruptly and looked about the small room. "Hmm… you should buy a plant for your office."
"What?" Ron asked, as he stopped staring at her kissable lips because he realized that they were moving and forming words.
"A plant. You should buy a plant. This office needs some color, don't you agree?"
Truthfully, the only thing he wanted in his office was her bent over his desk. Of course that wasn't something he would ever say out loud, no matter how badly he wanted it.
"Yeah… I mean yes, you're right. A plant would be nice," Ron stammered, as he looked at his plain government desk, waste paper basket, wooden chair, and beige painted walls that made up his office.
"I know someone from landscaping that could help you find something. Would that be okay, Mr. Weasley?" Miss Posey offered, but in a formal tone as if she were subordinate to him.
"Ron," blurted Ron. "It's Ron, Ron Weasley. I'm not your boss or anything."
Miss Posey looked at him rather curiously, but continued to say nothing as Ron filled the silence between them.
"I… I'm just like you, you know, an underpaid ministry employee. You work for Mr. Delacour and I work for the British as a Liaison. We could even date and kiss… and it wouldn't be a problem. Not even an international one."
"Bugger, did I just say that out loud? Weasley you are such a stupid git." Ron thought to himself, realizing that he just exposed his inner most desire.
Ron cautiously looked at Miss Posey who wasn't saying anything. In fact, she had a look on her face that said she was thinking about what he said.
Ron felt a jump of bravery rise up in him as he offered, "I saw this really nice outdoor café not too far from here. A glass of wine after work, some funny conversation about how the Ministry doesn't pay us enough."
Ron left it open-ended as he waited for her reply.
Miss Posey tilted her head rather playfully and after what seemed like an eternity to Ron, she smiled warmly at him.
"I'm Clémence. Ms. Posey is my mother and do I look 46 to you?"
Ron's heart rejoiced in celebration before he quipped, "I'm just happy that you're seventeen. Any younger and I would be under arrest."
"You're a poor liar, Ronald. I am not seventeen." Clémence playfully replied to his obvious flirting.
"Really? You look too young to be eighteen."
Clémence giggled like a young schoolgirl, even though the joke was not all that funny. She reached into her tight wool skirt and magically expanded a long beautiful peacock quill and a blank parchment.
"You can pick me up at eight. Don't be late or I'll never date an Auror or a Liaison ever again."
With that, she scribbled down her address, placed it on his desk and swiftly left his office. Ron could hear her giggling happily down the hallway.
Ron smiled at the parchment then remembered what Harry had taunted him with. He would show up to Harry and Ginny's wedding with a sexy Clémence on his arm
"I won't be the pathetic one. That will be the bookworm and her so-called boyfriend."
:::
"We rode the dragon straight out of Gringotts, flew over the Muggle parliament, out of London straight toward Wales," Ron boasted to a wide-eyed, giggling Clémence Posey on their date at an outside café in Paris.
"How did you ever get away?" Clémence begged to know while she held onto her wine glass in one hand and reached out to touch Ron's hand with the other.
"The goblins or the dragon?" Ron asked
"The dragon silly," Clémence asked, as she took another sip of her red wine.
"Oh, well he flew down to drink some water from a lake and we jumped off. You know to this day, we have no idea where that dragon is - true story."
"Ha-ha," laughed Clémence in such a way that suggested to Ron she was enjoying the wine more than his stories. "How do the uptight British lose a dragon? Ha-ha."
He had a feeling he could tell a story about flobberworms and she would find it funny and interesting.
"Well he's probably hiding in plain sight in Ireland. You'd never know he was there, what with the Irish looking a bit dodgy to begin with. Besides if anyone in Ireland spotted him, they'd rightly assume they were too pissed to see straight."
"Ha-ha-ha," Clémence laughed again while she poured more wine into her empty glass.
"Oh Ron, you haz no idea how bad I needed this," Clémence declared, as she finished the wine in the bottle and motioned for the garson to get another.
"Bad day at work?" inquired Ron.
"Oui, this impossible new woman in the President's office. Did you see all those new regulations? We had to make thousands and thousands of pink copies and to make matters worse, her clothes were full of cat hair. I'm deathly allergic to cats."
Ron's head snapped up sharply at what Clémence had just said.
"Cats?"
"Oui. She even has pictures of them all over the walls. I couldn't stop sneezing-"
Ron interrupted her because he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What does she look like? I mean does she have a name?"
"Of course she has a name, Ronald, everyone has a name silly," Clémence retorted, as she poured another glass of wine and took a long swallow.
Ron said nothing while he quietly waited for her to finish drinking.
"Her name is Madam Selwyn from Corsica. Monsieur highly recommended her for the position."
"Bloody hell!" Ron realized how much of an idiot he was. "Corsica my arse."
He had been searching for a woman that was right under his nose, in the same building even.
"Is there something wrong… did I say something?" Clémence asked, a bit worried at Ron's expression.
"No, no… I was just thinking, I know this woman," Ron replied, then faked a smile at Clémence to reassure her that everything was okay.
"Oh, how well do you know women, Ronald?" Clémence asked seductively, as she ran her finger along the top of her wine glass.
He was sure his face was turning red as he answered truthfully. "I know a few. One mainly, but that didn't end well."
"Did she break your heart?"
"Yes, yes she did."
"Good."
Ron was immediately confused and said as much. "What do you mean good? How can that possibly be good?"
Clémence stood up and swept over to where he was sitting then she playfully whispered into his ear.
"It means you are eager to find someone that will truly love you… to make your heart whole again."
Ron was the one now drinking as he gulped down a glass of firewhiskey.
:::
It started off relatively simple and easy. There was the hand holding around the muggle shops, the constant sideways glances between them, the innocent touching and petting for whatever semi-acceptable reason. Ron would have his hand on the small of Clémence's back as he would open doors for her and she in turn would rest her head on his shoulder and sigh contently as they traveled by muggle cab to various landmarks throughout the city. By midnight with nothing but the lights of Paris noticing them, it turned to even more touching. He would hug her for body warmth whenever she told him she felt cold while she would find her hands absent-mindedly stroking his red hair or his chest. To his own amazement he found out that she was the one leading him back to his apartment. He hadn't even dared to offer for fear of ruining an incredible night and yet she insisted on it.
Clémence was clearly nothing like he had ever experienced before. She was breathtakingly beautiful and confident of what she wanted. It didn't matter what he wanted or didn't want. Clémence was going to have her way and tonight, that was him.
For the first time in a long, long time that Ron could remember a woman, a beautiful confident woman didn't view making love to him as an act of being in a relationship, or hormonal lust. She wanted him… Ron Weasley, goofy red hair, bloodshot red face, freckles, and more battle scars than he care to count. She wanted him and to Ron, as he watched as Clémence was taking off his shirt and kissing his chest, it felt undeniably wonderful that someone actually wanted him. Hermione wanted him at times and at times not. Either way he felt that Hermione could live her life completely without him. Gabrielle on the other hand had wanted a night of passion. Then there was Lavender who wanted the elevated status of having a boyfriend on the house Quidditch team.
Clémence, however, wanted Ron Weasley, not the not-so-famous sidekick, or the British Liaison, or even the Auror. She wanted to make love to him because she wanted and needed him. The mere impulse of wanting to be needed and being appreciated for it had swept away whatever hesitation he held as he lifted her up and protectively carried her to his bedroom.
Ron slowly kissed her lips, her chin, as he deftly unbuttoned her shirt with one hand. His other hand was way too busy with squeezing her plump breast. By the time, he had completely unbuttoned her shirt he continued on his journey by kissing her cleavage and stopping at the barricade of her lacy bra. She was keenly aware of his halt in movement and arched her back up to remove her own bra.
Ron got there first with his right hand and unfastened the lacy bra from the back.
"One hand, hmmm." Clémence moaned in approval.
Ron said nothing as he confidently released Clémence's breast from the restrictive C-cup holders. They were free to welcome his hands and lips smothered on top of them. Her nipples that were once flat and little stood out as erections for his tongue that circled them. He closed his mouth and with great pressure sucked on them as Clémence gripped his back with her hands in tightened ecstasy. The deeper her fingernails dug into his back the stronger he sucked and licked. Her sweet moan of surrender was all he needed to release her and continue his kissing path down her stomach to her black wool skirt.
Unlike the bra, it was Clémence that wanted to be the one that took it off her. She pushed Ron to the side and swiftly arched her arse in the air to unzip her skirt from behind. He had only to assist at moving the skirt down her long beautiful legs and toss it to where he did not know. He was more focused on the sexy thigh high stockings that showcased their stunning beauty of her legs. He pointedly kissed each leg and thigh as she settled flatly on the bed for him to continue.
Continue he did as he reached the center of her body with kisses. If he had gotten lost, Clémence's hands through his red hair were pushing him down on the very spot where his lips were needed. He kissed, he licked, he drove his tongue deep, and he licked some more in changing patterns depending on the moans and pleas that she gave. He was forced to stop when she pleaded in surrender.
"Now! I can't wait any longer."
Ron un-belt his pants, threw off his boxers and steeled himself with determination to be the best lover this woman had ever had. He slowly moved inside her till she could take no more of him. Now he was the one arching his back as he slowly slid outward and inward.
"Faster," Clémence pleaded.
He responded immediately because Clémence was going to have her way no matter how late the night and morning was or how long it took. She was getting the best of Ron Weasley.
:::
Ron was resting again to build the needed stamina for another round when he saw a flashing crimson and gold light outside of his apartment followed by a loud voice that sang.
Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He didn't let the Quaffle in
Weasley is our King.
Weasley can save anything,
He never leaves a single ring,
That's why Gryffindors all sing:
Weasley is our King.
"What is that?" a naked Clémence asked, as she grabbed the bed sheets to cover herself.
"It's the wards I put up. Get dressed!" Ron shouted, while he grabbed his wand from the nightstand, jumped out of bed and made a naked dash to the bedroom window.
Outside in his courtyard he could see a group of four masked men. Two of them were shooting various spells in the sky at his remaining wards while the other two were breaking off to head around back. Each of the masked men wore a long black coat and black-feathered cocked hat embroidered with golden-green leafy motifs. Ron thought it was an odd look. It really didn't bring a lot of fear into him or anyone else for that matter. If they weren't busy taking down his wards, he would have told them to go back to the theater district where they belonged.
"Who are they?" Clemence asked, as she got out of bed and frantically slipped on her black lace panties from off the floor.
"My guess, a bunch of lousy thespians," Ron wisecracked, as he raced back to the bed to put on his boxers from off the floor.
Clémence was now frantically looked for her discarded lace bra on the floor while Ron quickly grabbed his Auror robes.
"No way will we be able to Apparate out of here. Let's go!" Ron shouted, knowing it was only a matter of seconds before they trapped him in his apartment.
"My bra," whined Clémence, but Ron grabbed her by the arm and dragged her toward the side window facing the streets.
"Here, wear my robe," Ron answered, as he stopped at his unpacked suitcase.
"Merlin, I wanted to use this on Harry again."
Ron reached in his suitcase to grab his last Demon Dung cracker and magically shot it out into the courtyard, directly at his attackers.
CRACK!
"Go," pleaded Ron, then he pushed a nearly naked Clémence out of his bedroom window.
He quickly followed knowing the Dung cracker would only buy them a few seconds. Immediately, one of his attackers that had been headed around the back of his apartment building spotted him and screamed at the others.
"He's on the street!"
Ron swiftly hit him in the chest with a SilencingCharm followed by a Sponge Knees curse that sent him straight to the ground and completely unable to stand up or follow them. He promptly grabbed a frightened Clémence by the hand and made tracks for the muggle sections of Paris. With any luck, they'd be able to get far enough away to properly Apparate to safety.
:::
A/N: Didn't expect that now did you? REVIEW or I'll give you headaches.