It's What's Inside That Counts
Chapter 25
After the holidays, Severus was convinced of several things, one of which stood out in his mind. He would murder the gigolo that Hermione was seeing. I am fairly good with poisons, aren't I? He also realized that he lived for the Saturdays when Hermione visited Ginny. Through the visits with Ginny he learned more of her likes and dislikes, how things were on the farm and her Auror training. On the last Saturday in January he came into the Three Broomsticks later than usual taking his usual seat in the booth behind them.
"...here we are over halfway through the year and I'm still surprised that I'm Head girl," Ginny said. "I've done some insane things."
"They look at the total witch Gin, not just an incident of a lovestruck sixteen year old girl in the throes of a jealous fit," Hermione said. "I mean- look at your brother. The Hit Wizards took him didn't they?"
They thought for a few seconds and laughed.
"I still regret that," Ginny said. "Thankfully, Harry forgave me. I'm know I'm missing a lot not being able to take Advanced Potions, they're making some interesting draughts this year."
They talked for a while about Potions and there was some mundane conversation about other classes. Finally the chat came to something worth listening to, but then again, he would gladly listen to anything Hermione would say.
"So, how goes the man front?" Ginny asked.
"There is no man, there is no front," was Hermione's reply. "There is Madame Ramada's however when I have a certain itch that needs scratched."
Severus clutched his glass harder at the comment.
"And Francois scratches it quite nicely," Hermione said lightly.
"Francois?" Ginny asked. "Is that his real name?"
"I have no idea, nor do I care. I don't use my real name, but I'm quite sure he doesn't care either," Hermione said.
"What name do you go by when you go there?"
"Guess."
"Hmm...Mary?"
"Please Gin, I have more imagination than that."
"Jane?"
"Ha-Ha."
"Matilda?"
They burst into giggles at the name.
"No, and not Broomhilda either, I go by Ariel," Hermione said.
"That's a pretty name," Ginny said.
"That's what Francois says, but then again, that's what he's supposed to say. I could look like Madame Maxine on crack and he would say I'm the most stunning witch this side of Liverpool," Hermione said with a sigh. "I get physical satisfaction from Francois, but I admit that I miss the emotional satisfaction of having someone for my own."
That night, Francois Verne, one of the most successful gigolos at Madame Ramada's Pleasure Palace, paced in front of the bar, waiting for Hermione.
"France, why don't you have a drink to calm your nerves? You need to be on top of your game," the bartender teased.
"I'm waiting on someone," Francois replied.
"A client?"
Francois frowned slightly. "A client-yes...but she's more than that."
Here we go, another stallion falling for another customer! the bartender thought. Madame Ramada had been furious the last time this happened, when one of her "best lads" as she called them, ran away with a client.
"You know the rules," the bartender said lightly.
"Bugger the rules! She's enough to...to make me want to quit this place and do something worthy of her!" Francois blurted.
After hearing Hermione and Ginny's conversation, he had to see for himself how decent (or not) this Madame Ramada's was. He found the place at the northwest end of Diagon Alley. A gaudy sign in the front window read
In the lobby, Severus took a seat and sneered at one of the gigolos in the midst of an emotional crisis over a customer. His sneer turned to wariness when the door opened and a familiar scent made its way to his nose. Just when he thought his heart wasn't capable of breaking anymore, Hermione made her way to Mr. Emotional. By the way he looked at her, Severus could tell that the one Francois was besotted with was her.
How dare a man of his ilk even contemplate that he would be worthy of her? Severus furiously thought.
"Wonderful to see you Ariel, wine?" he asked and gave her a glass of wine.
Severus shook his head. Ariel?
She took a sip. "Hmm, my favorite. You're too good to me, Francois."
"Should we take this elsewhere so I can strive to be even better for you?" he asked smoothly.
Severus' teeth clenched in consternation. How could she fall for this? He realized that she wouldn't fall for the smarmy ramblings of a gigolo- she was paying for the illusion of romance. It took every ounce of restraint he had to not jump up and wrench her arm free of that man's grasp.
In his room, Francois listened to Ariel hum and laugh softly to herself as she enjoyed a hot bubble bath. In the beginning of their business relationship, she requested uninterrupted hot bubble baths. Ordinarily, customers didn't do this. There was a bit of foreplay, then sex, then they left. However, Ariel was no ordinary customer and he happily let her do as she pleased. He chose a book to read to her, something else she enjoyed. After her bath, wine and reading, she was usually ready for the main event. It was hard to keep in mind that she was paying customer the way she lost herself to the act and fell asleep in his arms. She never stayed all night; she took a nap after the vigorous bout of sex then left. By their conversations, he could tell that someone hurt her deeply. Hurt women made the best customers, he used to think. Now that he was smitten with her, he found that he was angry on her behalf with whoever had hurt her beautiful heart. By even coming to a brothel, she showed that she was fairly open-minded, but just how open-minded? Would she even consider being with a bloke like me? Hell, my name's not even Francois. She emerged from the bathroom wrapped in towel, smiling lazily and smelling of jasmine.
"I love the new bubble bath," she said.
"I thought you might," he replied and held up a book.
She gave a quick clap and laid on the bed. She propped up on an elbow and listened as he cleared his throat and started reading.
"...My throbbing heart shall rock thee day and night:
There shall not be one minute in an hour
Wherein I will not kiss my sweet love's flower.
Thus weary of the world, away she hies
and yokes her silver doves; by whose swift aid
Their mistress, mounted, through the empty skies
In her light chariot quickly is convey'd;
Holding their course to Paphos, where their queen
Means to immure herself and not be seen."
"Damn, that's good stuff," she said finishing her wine. "The book too."
He flipped the page and snorted.
"What's funny?" she asked.
The next page, it's one of his amusing observations," Francois said. "The course of true love never did run smooth."
"My salad days, when I was green in judgment," she said with a smirk.
"Now," she said, patting the bed. "Come and be the dressing on my salad."
He tossed the book aside and slid into the bed with her, loving the sexy smirk that joined her amusing comment. For awhile anyway, he would forget that he was a gigolo and she a paying customer. Two hours later, she stirred, stretched and opened her eyes. It was after midnight, which was the usual time for these particular Saturday nights.
"Before you go, may I ask you a question?" he asked and handed her her skirt. It was time to test the waters.
"Sure."
"There is a woman that I'm interested in, beyond the usual customer-client relationship," he said. "I'm worried that she won't think my occupation respectable."
"All you can do is ask her," she said. "Do you want to pursue something beside this?" she asked, gesturing to the room.
"Sometimes I think I do," he replied.
"A word of advice: do it because you want to, not because of someone else. If you truly like like each other, what you do shouldn't matter. It's what's inside that counts," she said.
"This above all: To thine own self be true?" he asked.
She chuckled. "Exactly."
She finished dressing. "I'll walk you out," he said.
The following Monday morning, Francois was at Flourish and Blotts perusing poetry when he came upon a familiar voice mid-conversation.
"...Harry James Potter, how long have we been friends?" Hermione asked casually.
She's friends with Harry Potter? Francois thought.
"Uh...eight years?" Harry answered.
"Correct. And in those eight years, have you ever seen me interested in a book about that?" she asked.
"Uh no," Harry answered.
"Correct again. I will never be interested in a book like that, nor I will ever be convinced to be interested in a book like that. Got it?" she answered tartly.
What a little spitfire! Francois thought.
"Yes Granger, I got it," he drawled. He was used to her moods, as he had subjected his friends to his moods over the years, but today was different. "God, what crawled up your bum today?"
"Do you even have to ask?" she replied hotly.
"Hermione, calm down, please," he implored, not wanting to set off her volatile temper in the bookstore. "The flying is no big deal."
"Easy for you to say, flying comes naturally to you. As far as I'm concerned, brooms are best left for cleaning," she said.
"Come on, let's get these books and I'll buy you some ice cream," he urged her.
So, her name is Hermione? What a charming name, so why go by Ariel? he mused. He peeked around the bookshelf to where Harry and Hermione were making their purchase. His jaw dropped at what he saw.
She's with the Aurors??!!
Francois thought she looked unbelievably sexy. The form-fitting black uniform with knee-high black leather boots sent a shudder through his body. Her hair was in a tight bun and the mascara gave her eyes a piercing look. He thought he hit the jackpot.
Smart, strong, beautiful and friends with Harry Potter? In one of the most respected fields in Britain?
Someone else who had the morning off was watching the scene at another corner of the bookstore. Severus wanted to throttle the man ogling at Hermione. The man was delusional if he thought he could have her. If there weren't Aurors in the area, he just might find his hands wrapped around the man's throat.
February 14th
The first year trainees were dueling in Moody Hall when a loud, urgent announcement was heard.
"ATTENTION ALL AURORS AND TRAINEES! ASSEMBLE IMMEDIATELY IN HERO'S HALL!"
In minutes, over two hundred Aurors and trainees were gathered in the hall. Chief Auror Hicks rushed in with a clipboard and looked over his charges. He divided the throng into three groups- A, B and C.
"I'm not going to waste time. We have word about an imminent attack by Voldemort and his forces. Group A will take posts at St. Mungos, group B will go to the Ministry and group C will go to Hogwarts. The ranking Aurors will now take charge of their groups, so go with all haste. Trainees, remember this: give no quarter, for you will receive none. Godspeed to you all," he finished and swept from the room.
Aurors Ballantine, Miller and Tonks looked at their group that included Harry and Hermione.
"Hogwarts here we come," Tonks said.
"At least we'll die in comfort," Anthony Goldstein quipped when the trainees looked at each other dressed in their physical training uniforms.
from Venis and Adonis by William Shakespeare.
from A Midsummer Night's Dream by the same.
from Antony and Cleopatra, again by Shakespeare.
from Hamlet, once more by William Shakespeare.
Don't worry folks, she's not going to get with Francois...