~Ron's Point Of View~
For a moment, I simply stood there, slightly stunned by Hermione's hastiness to get as far away from me as possible. But, the words I had just said ran through my head, and I decided that I wanted to live up my time in Paris since there was a good chance I would never have the money to visit there again. Suddenly, the brightness in the room caught my attention, and I finally took a good look at where I was standing.
And just like I had thought, we had a room with a view.
The room was large and strangely circular, vaguely reminding me of the Gryffindor common room. There were two couches facing each other in the center of the room with a long coffee table between them. Fresh tulips were placed on the table, radiating a soothing scent. On the wall to the left was a large fireplace with an armchair placed in front of it, while a desk took up the same space on the opposite wall. There were also other useful items placed sporadically around the room, such as a partially filled bookcase and a...fellytone? Anyway, the most spectacular aspect of the room was straight in front of me. There was a pair of French doors with windows embedded into its wooden surface while another larger window took up the rest of the wall. Past the wall of glass, I could make out one of the largest balconies I had ever seen with stone benches facing the dazzling view of the Eiffel Tower.
I could tell Hermione had noticed this too, because we both stood in awe before the picturesque scene of the sun setting behind the slightly lit Tower.
"Oh, Merlin..." I heard Hermione whisper in a voice of amazement. "I've seen Paris before, but this is...perfect..."
I dropped my bags and headed toward the beckoning French doors. Hermione seemed as though she'd been waiting to do that very thing, and she scrambled forward at my cue. I seized open the doors, and we stumbled out into the shockingly crisp air.
"Brilliant..." I muttered. I was soaking in the entire sight: everything from the tiny people below to the miniscule speck in the distance. I turned back to Hermione. "What'd I tell you?"
But she didn't answer. Her eyes were focused, rather confused, on the 'miniscule speck' I had seen just a moment earlier. I turned to see what the problem was, and noticed that the speck was a great snowy owl.
"Hedwig." She said. "What's Harry writing for, though? We just got here."
But I had a pretty good idea.
Hedwig gingerly landed on Hermione's shoulder as I swiftly headed back toward the room. I knew that this might cause a bit of an uproar...as it did when I first realized it...but I had to admit that I was a bit...frightened of Hermione's reaction.
And sure enough: "Ron?" Hermione said warily. "Why is this addressed to BOTH of us? I mean, he knew I had the job, but..." A look of dawning comprehension crossed her face and she scowled. "He knew about this, didn't he?"
"That's my guess."
"And he didn't tell either of us!"
"Yup."
"He knew," she reiterated, her voice shrill. "That we were going to be STUCK together, and he didn't even have the courtesy to notify us. The dreadful sneak," she muttered, pacing the stone floor. "I bet this fits perfectly into their little plan!"
"Hermione-"
But she was on a roll, not even taking notice that I was still within hearing distance of her. "I'm sure they're absolutely ECSTATIC that this has happened! I wouldn't even be surprised if they set this whole thing up. But, no, this is the Ministry we're talking about. They wouldn't let that happen. But then, how-"
"HERMIONE!"
She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to me as if realizing I was there for the first time, her eyes blazing.
I walked over to her and gently unclenched her hand from around the now crumpled piece of parchment with our names scrawled across the front. "First, let's read what he has to say. THEN, and only then, we can figure out a plan of revenge." I grinned at her, and she seemed to soften a bit.
"Yeah, yeah, let's hear it then."
I slowly unfolded the parchment and began to read aloud.
Ah, dearest Ron and Hermione!
What did I tell you? After five years of trying to force you two together, you did it on your own. Do you know what they call this? Fate, my friends, fate!
Okay, now that I've gotten my two Galleons in, I want to tell you something with all jokes aside. I know you two better than you know yourselves. You're my best friends and I love you like a brother and a sister. I trust that both of you will be able to relax and possibly be apologetic, and although you are probably stubbornly opposed to it now (I would know, I've experienced this side of you both much too many times), I want you to think of something.
After five years of being separated, what have you gained? Neither of you seem very happy, and neither of you seem very successful (please do not take that as a disparagement, I'm just speaking the facts). All I ask is this: listen to each other. Be understanding. Please, don't do it for anyone but yourselves.
Much love,
Harry
I stared down at the piece of parchment in my hands, my heart pounding with embarrassment. Oh, why had I read it aloud? I should've read it, then handed it over to Hermione so that we would never really have to discuss it. But now, it was too late. I'd finished reading, and now a heavy blanket of silence had fallen over us.
Avoiding Hermione's eyes, I crumpled the parchment once again and cleared my throat, knowing that my skin had turned a light pink. "Uh, right. Well, shall we, uh, unpack...or something?"
"Definitely," Hermione said with a note of relief in her voice as she hurried into the room.
I tossed the note into the wastepaper basket near the door, and then turned and noticed for the first time the two perfectly white doors on either side of the door we had originally walked in. As Hermione threw her bags over her shoulder (leaving the heavy one for later I noticed with amusement) and headed toward the door on the left, I cautiously opened the other, wondering what was inside.
At the sight of its contents, I smiled. There was a large four-poster navy blue bed that looked as if it were the comfiest piece of furniture ever made to man. The bed was pushed against the wall opposite of the door with a small window to the right of it. On the left was another door, presumably leading to a bathroom. Before I took a step in, I heard Hermione's door creak open, and we stepped into our separate rooms.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
An hour later, after all my clothes were safely in the closet and small bureau, I stepped out into the 'living quarters', as I had decided to call them, and found Hermione already sprawled across one of the couches. There were a few letters scattered across the table between the sofas, and she was already in the process of reading one of them.
"These were here when I came out," she said without looking up.
I nodded and sat down across from her, peering at the envelopes. Before I could soak any words up, though, Hermione interrupted the silence.
"Listen to this," she said, unconsciously twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. "We got a letter from the French Minister of Magic himself, Mr. Pierre Delacour," Her words were only half sinking in as I watched her dark golden hair spin between her slender fingers. "He says that he wants to meet up with us tonight at 8 o'clock and discuss what we're here to do." I involuntarily wondered how hair could spin so easily. "He says he'll meet us in the café downstairs, and that's...about an hour away!" My fingers were beginning to itch in need of touching that spinning hair that was starting to coil itself slightly. "Okay? Ron?" The hair dropped, and I quickly averted my gaze back to Hermione's face. What had I just been doing? Obsessing over her HAIR? For God's sake...
"Yeah! Yep. Definitely." I gave her the best smile I could muster while feeling an intense mortification.
She eyed me suspiciously. "Right. Well...I'll go get ready then."
"Alright," I said, and waited until her door had clicked behind her until I allowed myself to fall face down onto the couch, desperately trying to suffocate myself.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~Hermione's Point of View~
At about a quarter to 8, I glanced at myself in my mirror one last time before heading out into the main room. I wanted to be sure that my first impression with the French Minister of Magic was a valuable one. I had tried to tame my hair a bit, and the beige dress pants I was wearing seemed to go well with the navy blue tank top. I had to admit that I was a little nervous.
When I stepped out, Ron was leaning against the wall next to his bedroom door, entirely caught up in picking a piece of fuzz off his leather jacket so that he didn't seem to notice me. I grinned for a moment. It was so strange how we had just been together for only a few hours, and it was beginning to feel almost like...old times.
I shook my head, pushing the thought away quickly. I still had every right to be mad at him. Looking back on that night, he had absolutely no reason to do what he did: yelling at me about my date, when he was supposedly my best friend and should be supportive.
"Ready to go?" I asked, sounding a slightly colder than I had intended.
He jumped, obviously not expecting me so close. "Yeah, whenever." He said, and unless I was hallucinating, his gaze swept over my hair and face.
I headed toward the door, and he stepped in front of me, holding it open.
"Thanks." I muttered.
"Mm-hmm."
We stepped in the elevator, and silence once again took over. I pretended to be engrossed in watching the numbers above the door light up one at a time, indicating which floor we were passing. After a few floors passed, I could feel his eyes on me, but when I slid my gaze over to him, he quickly glanced away. I rolled my eyes, and turned back to the numbers. However, it wasn't long until I felt his gaze on me again, but I didn't give him the previledge of looking back.
As soon as the doors slid open, I led the way to the café, and I spotted the Minister almost instantly. I'd spent a considerable amount of time reading up on the French Ministry of Magic before I had come, and I recognized him from his picture which seemed to be in every single book, including 'Beauxbatons: A History'.
He seemed to spot us at the exact same moment, and all three of us plastered on smiles. I was the first to step forward, and I stuck out my hand. "Hello, I'm Hermione Granger."
He grasped my hand and shook graciously. "Oui, bonjour! Je m'appelle Pierre Delacour. I want to thank you two so much for coming to join us. We appreciate the assistance, I assure you."
I smiled again, and noticed the deep, gray circles residing underneath his eyes. He was a short, plump man who's graying hair only seemed to set off the aged look on his face. He then turned to Ron who introduced himself before we all sat down.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
An hour and a half later, the three of us were still at the table, surrounded by crumpled napkins and pieces of parchment, waiting for dessert to arrive. Although we'd discussed all of the rules, regulations, and pay of the job, we still hadn't brought up exactly why Ron and I were there.
As if he'd read my mind, the Minister spoke up. "As you must be wondering, there is a specific reason why you are here."
Ron and I nodded and I noticed that he leaned forward somewhat.
"Our local school, Beauxbatons, is experiencing some...difficulties. The caretaker residing there has recently passed away, and he left without letting anyone know the whereabouts of the equipment, keys, etc. Now, it is almost June, and no one can figure out how to disengage the safety barrier from around the school. Therefore, unless something is done quickly, the students will be forced to stay for the summer." The Minister continued to pull out numerous maps of the school. "We've pored over these for ages, but the caretaker obviously didn't want anyone finding out where his office was, so it keeps disappearing and appearing in different spots in the building. It's extremely strange, and I don't know how to go about fixing it." At this point he glanced, almost lovingly, up at Ron and I. "But I've heard about you two. All of your adventures at Hogwarts with Harry Potter! I trust that you will be able to solve this." He chuckled softly. "This is surely nothing like You-Know-Who."
Ron and I glanced sideways at each other, but continued to listen.
"Anyway, now that that's sorted out, I have some other news to take care of- Oh, thank you."
Just at that moment, the server reappeared with our desserts and set them down in front of us. I gazed hungrily down at my lemon crumb cake, and turned back to the Minister who was talking about some sort of presentation taking place tomorrow night.
"Anyway, it's formal, and I'd like you two to accept my invitation to join us. It will be a splendid evening, and since you're bound to interact with some of the people attending, it might advantageous for you to come and mingle a bit."
I felt extremely flattered that he would invite us to such an event, and I nodded eagerly. "Yes, that would be wonderful."
Again, the Minister went off on another one of his sermons, and I decided to tune him out for a moment while I took a bite of my cake.
Clink!
My fork clattered to my plate as someone kicked my leg.
"Jeez, I'm so sorry, Hermione, I didn't mean to do that." Ron whispered from my right side.
I glanced over at him, snickering. "Yeah, like you did that by a mistake. You want some of this, don't you?"
He grinned, obviously impressed. "How did you know?"
"I didn't go to Hogwarts with you for seven years for nothing." I said as I pushed the plate over to him. But instead of turning back to the Minister, I found myself watching him, transfixed, as he slowly slid his fork into the cake and extracted a chunk, bringing it to his lips. After he'd swallowed, I guiltily watched as his tongue attempted to lick everything from his lips. I knew I shouldn't be watching him, much less thinking these thoughts, but the idea of pulling my eyes away was even harder.
After a few moments, he turned to me and gestured down to his own plate. "That was delicious, but do you want some of mine?"
I glanced down at his eclaire, and nodded numbly, but instead of pushing his own plate over to me, he took a piece off with his own fork and began to lead it toward my mouth. I was vaguely aware that the Minister was still absorbed in his own food, so I obediently opened my mouth. My heart was pounding, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from his, which were currently dwelling unblinkingly on my lips. As soon as his fork was in, I closed my mouth around it, tasting the sweet crème until he slowly slid it out. The fork hovered near my lips for what seemed like forever since neither of us wanted to break the energy that seemed be flowing between us. His eyes locked onto mine and I glimpsed an intense-
"Is that alright with you two?"
Ron's elbow clanked onto the table in surprise as I shot my gaze back to the Minister. I swallowed heavily, trying to find my voice again. "Uh...*choke*...um, that would be fine." I said, not having the faintest clue what he was talking about.
"Alright then!" he said cheerfully, getting up from the table. "I guess I'll leave you two at it."
At this, I saw Ron's body contract nervously.
"And I'll be seeing you tomorrow night," the Minister continued. "Remember," he said, leaning down. "It's Muggle-type formal. They might get suspicious if we were wearing dress robes. Oh, and, it will be held on the top floor of this building. See you then!"
He strode across the café, then out the door, leaving Ron and I staring at each other, our breathing heavy.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Hey guys! I hope you liked this chapter. I think it's on the longer side, but that's okay, right? Anyways, there wasn't TOO much action in this, but there'll be more VERY VERY soon. I'm really sorry it's taken me so long to update, but now I really know where I'm going with this, and the chapters will be coming quicker.
Thanks to EVERY SINGLE reviewer! I really appreciate it. Keep em coming!
For a moment, I simply stood there, slightly stunned by Hermione's hastiness to get as far away from me as possible. But, the words I had just said ran through my head, and I decided that I wanted to live up my time in Paris since there was a good chance I would never have the money to visit there again. Suddenly, the brightness in the room caught my attention, and I finally took a good look at where I was standing.
And just like I had thought, we had a room with a view.
The room was large and strangely circular, vaguely reminding me of the Gryffindor common room. There were two couches facing each other in the center of the room with a long coffee table between them. Fresh tulips were placed on the table, radiating a soothing scent. On the wall to the left was a large fireplace with an armchair placed in front of it, while a desk took up the same space on the opposite wall. There were also other useful items placed sporadically around the room, such as a partially filled bookcase and a...fellytone? Anyway, the most spectacular aspect of the room was straight in front of me. There was a pair of French doors with windows embedded into its wooden surface while another larger window took up the rest of the wall. Past the wall of glass, I could make out one of the largest balconies I had ever seen with stone benches facing the dazzling view of the Eiffel Tower.
I could tell Hermione had noticed this too, because we both stood in awe before the picturesque scene of the sun setting behind the slightly lit Tower.
"Oh, Merlin..." I heard Hermione whisper in a voice of amazement. "I've seen Paris before, but this is...perfect..."
I dropped my bags and headed toward the beckoning French doors. Hermione seemed as though she'd been waiting to do that very thing, and she scrambled forward at my cue. I seized open the doors, and we stumbled out into the shockingly crisp air.
"Brilliant..." I muttered. I was soaking in the entire sight: everything from the tiny people below to the miniscule speck in the distance. I turned back to Hermione. "What'd I tell you?"
But she didn't answer. Her eyes were focused, rather confused, on the 'miniscule speck' I had seen just a moment earlier. I turned to see what the problem was, and noticed that the speck was a great snowy owl.
"Hedwig." She said. "What's Harry writing for, though? We just got here."
But I had a pretty good idea.
Hedwig gingerly landed on Hermione's shoulder as I swiftly headed back toward the room. I knew that this might cause a bit of an uproar...as it did when I first realized it...but I had to admit that I was a bit...frightened of Hermione's reaction.
And sure enough: "Ron?" Hermione said warily. "Why is this addressed to BOTH of us? I mean, he knew I had the job, but..." A look of dawning comprehension crossed her face and she scowled. "He knew about this, didn't he?"
"That's my guess."
"And he didn't tell either of us!"
"Yup."
"He knew," she reiterated, her voice shrill. "That we were going to be STUCK together, and he didn't even have the courtesy to notify us. The dreadful sneak," she muttered, pacing the stone floor. "I bet this fits perfectly into their little plan!"
"Hermione-"
But she was on a roll, not even taking notice that I was still within hearing distance of her. "I'm sure they're absolutely ECSTATIC that this has happened! I wouldn't even be surprised if they set this whole thing up. But, no, this is the Ministry we're talking about. They wouldn't let that happen. But then, how-"
"HERMIONE!"
She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to me as if realizing I was there for the first time, her eyes blazing.
I walked over to her and gently unclenched her hand from around the now crumpled piece of parchment with our names scrawled across the front. "First, let's read what he has to say. THEN, and only then, we can figure out a plan of revenge." I grinned at her, and she seemed to soften a bit.
"Yeah, yeah, let's hear it then."
I slowly unfolded the parchment and began to read aloud.
Ah, dearest Ron and Hermione!
What did I tell you? After five years of trying to force you two together, you did it on your own. Do you know what they call this? Fate, my friends, fate!
Okay, now that I've gotten my two Galleons in, I want to tell you something with all jokes aside. I know you two better than you know yourselves. You're my best friends and I love you like a brother and a sister. I trust that both of you will be able to relax and possibly be apologetic, and although you are probably stubbornly opposed to it now (I would know, I've experienced this side of you both much too many times), I want you to think of something.
After five years of being separated, what have you gained? Neither of you seem very happy, and neither of you seem very successful (please do not take that as a disparagement, I'm just speaking the facts). All I ask is this: listen to each other. Be understanding. Please, don't do it for anyone but yourselves.
Much love,
Harry
I stared down at the piece of parchment in my hands, my heart pounding with embarrassment. Oh, why had I read it aloud? I should've read it, then handed it over to Hermione so that we would never really have to discuss it. But now, it was too late. I'd finished reading, and now a heavy blanket of silence had fallen over us.
Avoiding Hermione's eyes, I crumpled the parchment once again and cleared my throat, knowing that my skin had turned a light pink. "Uh, right. Well, shall we, uh, unpack...or something?"
"Definitely," Hermione said with a note of relief in her voice as she hurried into the room.
I tossed the note into the wastepaper basket near the door, and then turned and noticed for the first time the two perfectly white doors on either side of the door we had originally walked in. As Hermione threw her bags over her shoulder (leaving the heavy one for later I noticed with amusement) and headed toward the door on the left, I cautiously opened the other, wondering what was inside.
At the sight of its contents, I smiled. There was a large four-poster navy blue bed that looked as if it were the comfiest piece of furniture ever made to man. The bed was pushed against the wall opposite of the door with a small window to the right of it. On the left was another door, presumably leading to a bathroom. Before I took a step in, I heard Hermione's door creak open, and we stepped into our separate rooms.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
An hour later, after all my clothes were safely in the closet and small bureau, I stepped out into the 'living quarters', as I had decided to call them, and found Hermione already sprawled across one of the couches. There were a few letters scattered across the table between the sofas, and she was already in the process of reading one of them.
"These were here when I came out," she said without looking up.
I nodded and sat down across from her, peering at the envelopes. Before I could soak any words up, though, Hermione interrupted the silence.
"Listen to this," she said, unconsciously twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. "We got a letter from the French Minister of Magic himself, Mr. Pierre Delacour," Her words were only half sinking in as I watched her dark golden hair spin between her slender fingers. "He says that he wants to meet up with us tonight at 8 o'clock and discuss what we're here to do." I involuntarily wondered how hair could spin so easily. "He says he'll meet us in the café downstairs, and that's...about an hour away!" My fingers were beginning to itch in need of touching that spinning hair that was starting to coil itself slightly. "Okay? Ron?" The hair dropped, and I quickly averted my gaze back to Hermione's face. What had I just been doing? Obsessing over her HAIR? For God's sake...
"Yeah! Yep. Definitely." I gave her the best smile I could muster while feeling an intense mortification.
She eyed me suspiciously. "Right. Well...I'll go get ready then."
"Alright," I said, and waited until her door had clicked behind her until I allowed myself to fall face down onto the couch, desperately trying to suffocate myself.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~Hermione's Point of View~
At about a quarter to 8, I glanced at myself in my mirror one last time before heading out into the main room. I wanted to be sure that my first impression with the French Minister of Magic was a valuable one. I had tried to tame my hair a bit, and the beige dress pants I was wearing seemed to go well with the navy blue tank top. I had to admit that I was a little nervous.
When I stepped out, Ron was leaning against the wall next to his bedroom door, entirely caught up in picking a piece of fuzz off his leather jacket so that he didn't seem to notice me. I grinned for a moment. It was so strange how we had just been together for only a few hours, and it was beginning to feel almost like...old times.
I shook my head, pushing the thought away quickly. I still had every right to be mad at him. Looking back on that night, he had absolutely no reason to do what he did: yelling at me about my date, when he was supposedly my best friend and should be supportive.
"Ready to go?" I asked, sounding a slightly colder than I had intended.
He jumped, obviously not expecting me so close. "Yeah, whenever." He said, and unless I was hallucinating, his gaze swept over my hair and face.
I headed toward the door, and he stepped in front of me, holding it open.
"Thanks." I muttered.
"Mm-hmm."
We stepped in the elevator, and silence once again took over. I pretended to be engrossed in watching the numbers above the door light up one at a time, indicating which floor we were passing. After a few floors passed, I could feel his eyes on me, but when I slid my gaze over to him, he quickly glanced away. I rolled my eyes, and turned back to the numbers. However, it wasn't long until I felt his gaze on me again, but I didn't give him the previledge of looking back.
As soon as the doors slid open, I led the way to the café, and I spotted the Minister almost instantly. I'd spent a considerable amount of time reading up on the French Ministry of Magic before I had come, and I recognized him from his picture which seemed to be in every single book, including 'Beauxbatons: A History'.
He seemed to spot us at the exact same moment, and all three of us plastered on smiles. I was the first to step forward, and I stuck out my hand. "Hello, I'm Hermione Granger."
He grasped my hand and shook graciously. "Oui, bonjour! Je m'appelle Pierre Delacour. I want to thank you two so much for coming to join us. We appreciate the assistance, I assure you."
I smiled again, and noticed the deep, gray circles residing underneath his eyes. He was a short, plump man who's graying hair only seemed to set off the aged look on his face. He then turned to Ron who introduced himself before we all sat down.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
An hour and a half later, the three of us were still at the table, surrounded by crumpled napkins and pieces of parchment, waiting for dessert to arrive. Although we'd discussed all of the rules, regulations, and pay of the job, we still hadn't brought up exactly why Ron and I were there.
As if he'd read my mind, the Minister spoke up. "As you must be wondering, there is a specific reason why you are here."
Ron and I nodded and I noticed that he leaned forward somewhat.
"Our local school, Beauxbatons, is experiencing some...difficulties. The caretaker residing there has recently passed away, and he left without letting anyone know the whereabouts of the equipment, keys, etc. Now, it is almost June, and no one can figure out how to disengage the safety barrier from around the school. Therefore, unless something is done quickly, the students will be forced to stay for the summer." The Minister continued to pull out numerous maps of the school. "We've pored over these for ages, but the caretaker obviously didn't want anyone finding out where his office was, so it keeps disappearing and appearing in different spots in the building. It's extremely strange, and I don't know how to go about fixing it." At this point he glanced, almost lovingly, up at Ron and I. "But I've heard about you two. All of your adventures at Hogwarts with Harry Potter! I trust that you will be able to solve this." He chuckled softly. "This is surely nothing like You-Know-Who."
Ron and I glanced sideways at each other, but continued to listen.
"Anyway, now that that's sorted out, I have some other news to take care of- Oh, thank you."
Just at that moment, the server reappeared with our desserts and set them down in front of us. I gazed hungrily down at my lemon crumb cake, and turned back to the Minister who was talking about some sort of presentation taking place tomorrow night.
"Anyway, it's formal, and I'd like you two to accept my invitation to join us. It will be a splendid evening, and since you're bound to interact with some of the people attending, it might advantageous for you to come and mingle a bit."
I felt extremely flattered that he would invite us to such an event, and I nodded eagerly. "Yes, that would be wonderful."
Again, the Minister went off on another one of his sermons, and I decided to tune him out for a moment while I took a bite of my cake.
Clink!
My fork clattered to my plate as someone kicked my leg.
"Jeez, I'm so sorry, Hermione, I didn't mean to do that." Ron whispered from my right side.
I glanced over at him, snickering. "Yeah, like you did that by a mistake. You want some of this, don't you?"
He grinned, obviously impressed. "How did you know?"
"I didn't go to Hogwarts with you for seven years for nothing." I said as I pushed the plate over to him. But instead of turning back to the Minister, I found myself watching him, transfixed, as he slowly slid his fork into the cake and extracted a chunk, bringing it to his lips. After he'd swallowed, I guiltily watched as his tongue attempted to lick everything from his lips. I knew I shouldn't be watching him, much less thinking these thoughts, but the idea of pulling my eyes away was even harder.
After a few moments, he turned to me and gestured down to his own plate. "That was delicious, but do you want some of mine?"
I glanced down at his eclaire, and nodded numbly, but instead of pushing his own plate over to me, he took a piece off with his own fork and began to lead it toward my mouth. I was vaguely aware that the Minister was still absorbed in his own food, so I obediently opened my mouth. My heart was pounding, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from his, which were currently dwelling unblinkingly on my lips. As soon as his fork was in, I closed my mouth around it, tasting the sweet crème until he slowly slid it out. The fork hovered near my lips for what seemed like forever since neither of us wanted to break the energy that seemed be flowing between us. His eyes locked onto mine and I glimpsed an intense-
"Is that alright with you two?"
Ron's elbow clanked onto the table in surprise as I shot my gaze back to the Minister. I swallowed heavily, trying to find my voice again. "Uh...*choke*...um, that would be fine." I said, not having the faintest clue what he was talking about.
"Alright then!" he said cheerfully, getting up from the table. "I guess I'll leave you two at it."
At this, I saw Ron's body contract nervously.
"And I'll be seeing you tomorrow night," the Minister continued. "Remember," he said, leaning down. "It's Muggle-type formal. They might get suspicious if we were wearing dress robes. Oh, and, it will be held on the top floor of this building. See you then!"
He strode across the café, then out the door, leaving Ron and I staring at each other, our breathing heavy.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Hey guys! I hope you liked this chapter. I think it's on the longer side, but that's okay, right? Anyways, there wasn't TOO much action in this, but there'll be more VERY VERY soon. I'm really sorry it's taken me so long to update, but now I really know where I'm going with this, and the chapters will be coming quicker.
Thanks to EVERY SINGLE reviewer! I really appreciate it. Keep em coming!
