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Part four: Revenge!



"Ginny?" Hermione called. "Ginny, are you there?"



Ginny Weasley had been relaxing on her precious day off. The season was officially over, bar a dozen or so exhibition games, but the last match between Holyhead and Wimbourne had been positively brutal. Every foul that either team could get away with and a lot that they couldn't, had been tried, and Ginny had been hit by at least three bludgers, and a thrown beater's bat. Fortunately, her injuries were nothing the med-witch couldn't fix up quickly. At the end of a four hour battle, Ginny had managed to nab the snitch less than a second before Montrose could, and the victory blow-out had lasted until late the next morning. Ginny was almost certain that that had been two days before, and was now nursing the lingering remnants of a well-earned hangover. Only for her very best girlfriend, would she even consider leaving her couch. Fortunately, she didn't have to. She turned to her fireplace and greeted her long-time friend.

"Hello, Hermione!" She chirped. "It's been too long!"

"Ginny, it was three days ago. May I come through?"

"Of course!" Ginny automatically cast the spell to open the floo and allow Hermione to come in. Hermione whirled to a stop, wobbling a bit. She clutched her head, and groaned: "God, I hate the floo!" Ginny chuckled as she stood to embrace her friend.



Collecting herself, she handed Ginny a flat white box, about ten inches on a side, from a Greek restaurant they both liked to frequent. "Congratulations on the win, Ginny. I heard about it on the WWN. I understand there was a near-riot after your catch!" Ginny smile happily in recollection, and accepted the offering.


As she opened the pasteboard lid and recognized the contents Ginny squealed loudly: "Oooh! Baklava! And from Cisneros's, too!"


Hermione smiled warmly, as she knew Ginny loved the Greek pastry. Truth be told, she did as well.



Ginny quaffed a pepper-up potion, grimaced at the taste, and set about making coffee for them both. Hermione sat at the table, opened the box and doled out two pieces each.



When Ginny had finished making the coffee, they sat at the table, sipping and nibbling the sticky, nutty sweet. The pepper-up, had cleared her head, and eased the headache some.



"What's on your mind, Herms?" She ventured, after a bit of inconsequentials. "You don't usually arrive bearing Baklava unless there's a reason."

"There is a reason, Ginny. I've left Ron. For good, this time. I'm going to be living with Harry."

"Hermione, I know you love him, I do too, but you'd best forget about Harry." Ginny cautioned her friend. "Yes, he's a wonderful man, none better, but I was certain you knew...Harry seeks for the other team!"

"Ginny, Harry's not gay. Ron just told us that to keep us from getting too close to him. In my case it was so he could have me to himself. In yours, well...officially, it was to 'protect' you..." Hermione made 'quote' marks in the air with her fingers. "...from the unwanted advances of the sexual predators that we like to call, men." She sighed. "Now, however, I know it was to keep you from getting too close to Harry. If the two of you got serious, he knew I'd see through his little scheme."

"Hunh?"

"Don't grunt, Ginny. It's unseemly." The brunette chided gently. "Ginny, if Harry was dating you, would he be seen as gay?

"Mmmmm. No."

"Correct. If I knew Harry was making love with you, then I'd know Ron lied about him being gay. You see?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't understand. How did you find out Harry's not gay? Did you sleep with him?" Ginny's eyes widened in shock and she leaned forward.

"You DID! Didn't you?" She accused in wonderment.

"Well, I can't say we did much sleeping...at least not for most of the time." Hermione deadpanned, then blushed brightly. "But that's not how I found out."



Ginny immediately wanted to know all the wonderfully juicy details of the great 'Harry/Hermione all-night shag-fest', but her best friend told her that that was for later. For the time being, Hermione explained to her friend, Ron's duplicitous actions. By the time she'd related Winky's description of her brother's multiple partners, Ginny's headache had returned full force, and she was ready to disembowel him with a pickle fork. While Hermione would have been happy to help her, she had a much better idea in mind.



Following her Hogwarts years, Hermione had 'assisted' Fred and George in several of their more advanced prank ideas. That assistance had earned her their undying gratitude and several patents which had guaranteed her a nice, tidy income for the remainder of her life. Now, she reckoned her association with the terrible twins, would come in more than handy.

"Gin, I think we need to call in the experts." At Ginny's puzzled look, she drew a large 'W' and a smaller '3' in the air. Ginny's eyes popped. Then she literally fell off her chair, from a screaming fit of the giggles.



When she had finally calmed a bit, she hauled herself back into her chair, and demanded: "OK, Talk! You've shagged the green-eyed god! Now..." She stopped as the brunette shook her head and said: "Not just yet, Gin. Right now, we need to work out what to do about Ron."



Ginny shivered. She was very grateful Hermione was not looking at her like that. She'd seen Lucius Malfoy with kinder eyes.



She thought about Hermione's words, then, saying: "Be right back!", left the kitchen. Hermione watched her friend rush away, then stood and followed.



Standing in the doorway leading to the lounge, she saw Ginny throw a pinch of floo powder into the fire and call out "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes!" Seconds later, the head of one of the twins, Hermione really wasn't certain which, floated in the flames.

"Hey Ginny. What's up?" He greeted his little sister.

"Hermione and I need to talk to you both." Ginny spoke to the floating head of twin number one. "It's really important. Can you come by after you close up the shop?"

"Sure thing, Ginnybird! It's hen's night anyway. We'll be there in about an hour or maybe less. Have something ready to eat, willya?"

"Naturally!" Ginny smirked. The head vanished. Ginny turned to Hermione.

"We'll need something to eat. Any suggestions?"

Like Harry, Hermione loved to cook. She wasn't quite as accomplished as he was, but then, she hadn't had his years of experience as a human house-elf behind her.

"Do the twins like what they eat, or do they just eat."

"Ron is the only one who just eats. The rest of us like to enjoy our food."

"OK, lets see...hmmm. Do you have any fish? That's easy and quick."

"I just got some yellowtail in today. It's in the freezer. That, and some Mako flank steaks."


Hermione thought for a moment, then made her decision.

"Alright. I like the tuna, but I'm feeling in a predatory mood today. Let's do the shark. Can you do a pilaf?"

"Of course." Ginny replied, almost annoyed that Hermione would ask.

"OK, then. Let's get to it!"


The girls turned to, and in a short while had prepared broiled Mako shark in lemon-garlic butter, stuffed with a fine pilaf of millet, barley, wheat and rice, which was spiced with herbs and a pinch of curry. An assortment of lightly steamed vegetables, fresh black bread and butterbeer accompanied the meal, with coffee and baklava to follow.


During the preparations, Ginny had the opportunity to interrogate her friend

"Alright, I've waited long enough! Spill!" She demanded once more. "How was he?"

"Oh, Ginny! He was bloody fantastic!" Hermione sighed in recall. "He's a sweet, gentle, caring and completely wonderful lover!" She went on to describe in some detail, Harry's sexual prowess. Ginny was positively drooling by the time she finished.

"Will you share?" The redhead asked, hopefully.


Before she'd been introduced to the wizarding world, Hermione would have rejected the suggestion, outright. Since then, however, she had done extensive reseach on wizarding customs, and while certainly not the norm, marriage bonds consisting of more than two, were not uncommon, as evidenced by Freed and Geeorge's relatioship with Angelina and Alicia. She and Ginny had 'explored' each other rather thoroughly, during their years at Hogwarts, and so, she was really not adverse to her friend's request.

"Well, since you're my best friend, and one of his, I'll consider it. But, you have to understand this, Ginny; Harry might not be willing. He's had a terribly hard life, and he may have been brought up in the monogamy fashion, as is the custom with most muggles...if he's been trained at all, that is. Those wretched Dursleys have done him a hideous amount of damage. It'll be a wonder if he can be made whole at all!"



Ginny wiped a tear from her eye a she thought about the boy who had been abused, in one form or other, by almost everybody. Hermione spoke again.

"Ginny, Harry's asked me to marry him." Her quiet words shocked Ginny to silence. She held out her left hand.

"Oh, Goddess! Hermione! It's gorgeous! Ginny burst out; goggling at the engagement ring Hermione wore.

"I am so jealous! Does mum know?" She asked, excitedly.

"She knows about Ron. I haven't told anyone about this. You're the first."


The redhead squealed softly and hugged her best friend, tightly. She'd always known Harry loved Hermione, even during their own short-lived relationship in her fifth year at Hogwarts. Now, she was all grins, for her best friend.

"You realize mum is going to want to coordinate the wedding, don't you?"

"Yeah, but she'll have to go toe to toe with my mum...unless we can somehow con them into working together... Hmmm." Hermione was drifting, but suddenly shook her head rapidly as if to rid her mind of unwanted thoughts. "No...no, that's for later." The timer chimed as the fish was done broiling. Hermione turned the heat off, and together they chatted of inconsequentials, as they waited.




Seven minutes later, Fred's head appeared in the fire, hollering for Ginny. When she leaned down before the hearth, he asked if it was OK to come through. Ginny smiled and nodded in welcome, then moved aside.



He and his twin whirled to a stop, seconds apart. Hermione cast a cleaning charm on them both and then wrapped each in a warm and welcoming hug.



Together, they sat to table, and began to discuss Hermione's revelations while eating the meal the girls had prepared.



Forge spoke when Hermione had finished. "Once again, our dear brother Ronald has managed to disgrace the entire Weasley clan!"

"Absolutely disgusting!" Gred added. Then they went into their patented twin- speech.

"That Ron would do..."

"Something so degrading..."

"As having so many girls..."

"Without their knowing!"

"Wait a moment. Isn't that rather hypocritical of you?" Hermione asked; a bit surprised at their disapproval, given their own living arrangements. "I mean, you two are living with Alicia and Angelina, Aren't you? Didn't you once tell me that you trade off, on occasion?"

"And Katy, Helen and Lee, too." Answered Forge. Gred threw in: "And sometimes, yes. We do."

"But they all know about each other." Forge added.

"We may be pranksters..."

"But there are limits."

"We would never..."

"Intentionally..."

"Hurt anyone..."

"At least anyone who doesn't deserve it." They chimed.

"I really wish you'd tell me how you do that!" She mock-pouted.

"Sorry, luv. Trade secret." Fred began.

"If we told you..." George continued the thought without pause.

"We'd have to kill you!" They chimed again, both grinning evilly.


"Seriously, Hermione." George really was serious, for one of the few times she'd known him. "We love the pranks, we live for them actually, but to hurt someone...no, no, to...to betray someone, your best friend, at that, just to stroke your own miserable ego...I'm sorry, luv, but that is just totally wrong!"

"Don't apologize, George. I totally agree." She returned, tightly.


Fred took over. "We think it's time someone knocked the starch, not to mention the stuffing, out of our little brother."

"I can count on your help, then?"

"Absolutely." They spoke in unison. Then George leaned forward, resting on an elbow and added in a conspiratorial voice: "So, what've you got in mind?"

"Well, I thought I'd teach him a 'little lesson' about using people the way he has. I've asked Harry to stay clear of this unless absolutely necessary, because as angry at Ron as he is, his getting openly involved in this, would most likely do even more damage to his reputation. Ron would soak that up, and play the wounded party perfectly. He's good at that, and the fish-wrappers are just itching to find something else to use against him. His buying the Prophet stock helped some, but dear Rita simply hired on with that gossip rag, um, the...well whatever it's called." Hermione flicked her hand in dismissal. "They'll print anything! As it is, I've discovered the identities of each of his other ladies. I want you to help me have a little bird put a bug in their ears. As for me, Ron has hurt me, terribly. He's hurt me, and he's hurt Harry..." She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. "...and he's used me to hurt our best friend."

Her voice grew more forceful.

"I want him to pay! I want him to know precisely how it feels, to be hurt like this." She gritted between clenched teeth. "And I want it to be something really humiliating!"



Fred leaned back, thought for a minute, then turned to George, and said: "Tonks?"

Nodding with a nasty grin George agreed. "Tonks!"



"What about Tonks?" Hermione asked, puzzled that the clumsy but flamboyant Auror would even be mentioned.

"Hermione, our beautiful and brilliant, sometimes co-conspirator, most people don't look past our sign. They see us as simple purveyors of jokes and pranks. Not many know that that W-3 has diversified. We have our fingers in quite a number of pies." George replied.

"Tonks is one of our favorite partners." Fred added. "During the last part of the war, she told us what the Auror Corps really needed, helped us arrange funding, and provided the market for our 'special line'. She can't officially help, of course, being as she's the chief of her department, now, and the ministry, namely dad, would likely take a dim view of Senior Aurors aiding and abetting a prank of this type, especially considering the prank-ee is one of the 'heroes of the wizarding world'...but, maybe she could help behind the scenes."

"How do you mean?"

"Hermione, do you really think we managed to explore all of Hogwarts castle by ourselves?"

"Well, you did have the map..." She replied uncertainly. To be honest, Hermione still wasn't certain how the twins had managed to get into so many places at Hogwarts. The wards in the castle should have prevented it, but somehow, they had always managed.

"We didn't nick the map until the middle of our first year. Matter of fact, it was Tonks who suggested we 'find a way' into Filch's office. She told us that there was a whole treasure trove...a filing drawer filled with confiscated items, that might prove to be 'useful' to our chosen careers. It turns out she did something of the sort in her second year. Until we came along, in her fourth, she was the undisputed prank-master of Hogwarts. She told us that the second she saw us, she knew we'd be able to take up the mantle when she left."

Hermione grinned widely. She had the feeling that she was going to love this! George grinned wickedly and went to the floo.




Tonks had arrived soon, having just finished her paperwork. She groused that it was much more fun to do the fieldwork. Remus, who had just gotten off his job at the Magical Beings Liaison Office, accompanied her. Seeing Hermione, they fell on her, scolding her for not keeping in touch, then wrapped her in a warm double-embrace.


As Hermione was explaining the situation, for the fourth time, Bill, Fleur and Charlie flooed, asking permission to come over. They were greeted by one and all with hugs and kisses. Fleur was showing her third pregnancy quite well. As the girls gathered around to fuss over her, Bill, standing at her elbow, spoke quietly.

"Mum told us there's a problem with our dear prat of a brother. Can we help?"

Hermione smiled at the support.



Soon enough, the maternal instinct was temporarily sated and those gathered returned to the topic of a wayward redhead.


Hermione launched into her explanation once more.




To say that Fleur was incensed would be like describing the sinking of Atlantis as an erosion problem. She took on a distinctly avian aspect. Her eyes blazed a bright yellow and her features sharpened into something hawk like. Her hands began to curve into talons and she fairly glowed with power. Bill hurriedly stood and tried to calm her. Unfortunately, Fleur wasn't having any at all. She pushed him aside and growled: "Mon De'esse! Que pensait-il? Il devrait' etre fouette! Oooh! Il merite' d'etre Chatre'!" Hermione winced and Bill paled, as apparently they were the only ones besides Fleur who spoke French. Fleur slipped back into English, her accent made heavy by anger. "'E should be...'E should be shopped into tiny little bits and srown into ze fire!"



Everybody, even Hermione, grimaced at that rather nasty idea. Bill finally managed to gently drag her into the other room, where he held her warmly and nuzzled her neck, until she began to calm. Hermione barely heard Charlie's muttered comment: "Braver man than I am, Gunga Din!"




Tonks stood and pulled Remus into next room. They could all see the two having an animated but silent conversation. Finally, Tonks grinned madly, hugged Remus tightly and kissed his cheek, then led him back to the table.


"Well, Hermione..." Tonks began. "This is what I'd recommend." She whispered the idea into Hermione's ear. As she listened, Hermione's eyes widened, first in shock, then in glee.


"YES! Yes! Yes!" She squealed, dancing around like a four year old and pumping her fist in the air. Placing one hand on her stomach, she began to flex her hips and shoulders in a manner that got the instant attention of every male present, and sang: "It's perfect! It's perfect! Oooohhh, Baybeee it's perfect!"




Fred, George, Ginny, Bill, Fleur and Charlie all stared at her as if she'd gone completely insane. Braving the lunatic, Charlie asked: "Erm...Hermione? What's perfect?"


Hermione looked at Tonks for permission. Receiving a nod, she explained.


Her audience erupted in howls of laughter.





Hermione's revenge was a masterwork of spell-craft.



Within a month, preparations were complete.





Hermione walked into the room filled with nervous women. None of them knew what was going on. Only that they had been brought here to this conference room in the London Marriott. All eyes turned to her as she entered.


"Hello, ladies. Welcome to London. My name is Hermione Granger." Hermione addressed the gathered women. It had been a hideous lot of work, coordinating this. Molly had agreed to keep Ron at the Burrow for the day, busy doing chores that 'just had to be done, and no one around to do them'. The conspirators had gotten together, located all Ron's girls and asked them to attend this meeting. They had told each of the women that there was a vital meeting with Ron's solicitor necessary to be included in any bequests. A few girls refused to have any part of it, saying they didn't want any of Ron's money. Those girls had been persuaded to come 'willingly' with some cooperation charms that weren't exactly the lightest of magicks. Harry's money smoothed over the travel arrangements, and he had personally gone to some employers to 'arrange' for short holidays for those girls that needed help.



The room quieted and Hermione began to speak.

"Officially, until just recently, I was Ronald Weasley's only girlfriend!" This brought a moment of silence as each girl there, digested this tidbit. Then the shit truly hit the fan! Only judiciously applied silencing charms keept the hotel staff unaware of the near-riot taking place in the in the seventh floor confrence room.





Ron Weasley had been having a bad couple of months. First Hermione had gone and run off with that pouf, Potter. Then, just a week later, Harry had the nerve to ask him, in front of his whole family, no less, to be his bloody best man!


What could he do? The whole bunch of them would likely roast him over an open pit if he'd even considered refusing, so he'd smiled and agreed. Just a week ago, he'd stood by and watched his old 'friend' marry his girl. To make matters worse, after the guests had gone, Ginny had walked up to him and slapped him hard enough to knock him on his arse. None of his family would even talk to him. The twins had apparently declared a prank war on him. He'd wake up cemented to his bed, or the water would turn him orange, or suddenly he'd have two left hands...that sort of rubbish! The morning after the wedding, he got a howler from his mum...at the clubhouse! The whole team had had a good laugh at that! Somehow, she'd found out about his harem. And now, to make things worse, all of his girls are suddenly 'unavailable'. They wouldn't even return his calls, floo or phone...not that it would do him any good. For the past month, or so, he'd been having a 'little problem'.




Today, almost three months after Hermione left him, was the worst of the lot. He angrily clutched the crumpled sheet of yellow parchment in his fist. He'd been sidelined! Coach McGrath had explained very carefully that his performance had dropped below standards, and he was being relegated to the reserve. Ron had almost quit over that. Only the idea of returning to his family, as a complete failure, stayed his quill...plus the fact that he'd have to return his signing bonus, most of which, he'd already spent.



He walked into the clubhouse to find the rest of the team at the bar. Quiddich hags abounded, even for the Cannons, and tonight was no different, although the girls were a bit scarce. Those who were there, were already attached. 'Ah well.' He thought.


A guy at the bar handed him a shot of Old Ogden's and a mug of stout, then walked away, swiping a flannel here and there. Ron turned to the bar tossed back the shot, and took a healthy swig of his beer.



The helpful man at the bar walked into the hallway leading to the loo's, and out the door. He smiled nastily, and quietly disapparated.




Seeker, Steven Katzmann joined him at the bar. "Oy Ron! What happened? I heard you've been sent to the reserve!"

"I have no bloody idea, Steve. I must have hacked off the wrong god, or something. My life has been shit lately! I can't believe they sent me to the bench!" He took a long draw at his ale, then continued. "I may have missed a couple, lately, but there aren't many who can compete with me. My saves are in the thousands! Hell, I'm one of the top three keepers in the league!

"Ron, I don't know if I'm the one to say this, but you know I can't turn down an opportunity to rain on your parade."

"Yeah. I noticed that about you, mate. What do you think?

"Personally, I think...Hermione. You got caught, didn't you?"

Ron sighed. "Yeah. A couple months ag...." His eyes grew round. Steve grinned. He so loved to be the one to deliver bad news to Ron. Of course, the two of them took it in turns. They had a 'friendly rivalry' going to see who could bring the other the most bad news. Seeing as how they were both quite often in trouble, the competition had grown rather fierce. Steve even understood that the rest of the team was betting on their final tally each year. This year, he was going to win. Ron wasn't a bad sort, but hey, sports is sports, hunh?

"Mebbee she put a bug in ol' lady Phillips ear. You know she don't take well to people cheating on their wives and such. She's still hacked off at her ol' man, for that, and that was way back in fourty-two!"

Ron spoke again. "Nahh. Hermione isn't the type to do this. She may hex me, or maybe even hit me, but she's not the type to go for this kind of revenge. I've been getting shit from all sides, for a while now."

"Who's she with now?"

"Harry. But he's not the type either. This feels like something planned. Not some one-time thing. He's impulsive, not calculating. He hit me pretty hard, busted my nose, in fact, but after that...well, he always was rather protective of her."

"Harry?" Steve thought he knew all Ron's friends. This 'Harry' was a new one on him. "Harry, who?"

"Potter."

"You know Harry Potter?" Steve was stunned. He'd heard some rumours about Ron, but he never really gave them much credence.

"Of course, I know Harry Potter! We were best mates in school! Me, Harry and Hermione. They used to call us 'the golden trio'. We fought together when Harry destroyed Voldemort. Hell, I even got the Order of Merlyn, out of it! Hermione did too!"

Steve was stunned. He'd never met anyone who'd been awarded the coveted Order of Merlyn before, and now he found he'd been on the same team as someone who had, for the past three years! On top of that, his teammate was friends with Harry frickin' Potter, the bloke who kicked the dark lord's arse!

"Harry Potter! Wow! Do you think he'd...?"

"Naah." Ron shook his head in disgust. "He never makes appearances anymore. He says he hated the publicity of being 'The-boy-who-lived'. Like anybody'd fall for that!" Ron sneered at the idea of anyone not loving the fame and glory Harry enjoyed.

"Well, shit!"

"He sometimes comes to the matches here, or at Holyhead, but he's always in disguise."

"Why would he go to see Holyhead play?"

"Oh, that. My sister, Ginny, is their starting seeker." Ron turned to his drink again. On the other side of the bar someone began to laugh.



Ron thought hard for a minute, then his eyes rounded again. "No!" He spat out the word like a curse.

"What?" Steve asked.

"Ginny!"

"Ooookay! What about her?"

"Hermione and Ginny are thick as thieves, and Ginny loves Harry, too. She always has. Now, Hermione wouldn't go for revenge, and Harry 'the white bloody knight' wouldn't either, but Ginny would. Oh yes! Ginny definitely would! I don't think she'd go as far as getting me sacked, but she would want to make me pay. Oh, hell! If she's found out about my other birds...Shit! I gotta hide." Ron jumped up from the stool only to find all the other players and their groupies pointing at him, laughing.

"What?" He asked, the air around him.


Steve answered. "Ron, did you know your hair just turned purple and green? We're playing against Puddlemere tomorrow!"


Horrified, Ron turned to the full-length mirror over the bar. Sure enough, his hair was divided into three neatly defined stripes. The largest middle one being purple, the outer two a blazing neon green. The colors favored by Puddlemere United."



"BlOODY HELL!"






The game against Puddlemere did not go well at all. It seemed that the Cannons couldn't stop a single goal and only scored one. The game ended at four hundred fifty to ten. Ron had dyed his hair a vibrant orange, to cover what he was certain was a prank by the twins, Gred and Forge. It didn't help. Whatever they had used, be it a potion, or more likely, a spell, resisted concealment. The vibrant purple and green came right through. Ron could see the Cannons' owner sitting in the top with too many familiar figures. Most of the Weasley's were there, along with Harry and Hermione. Ron wanted to crawl into his jersey. Every time he looked, he could Harry's emerald green eyes flashing in the sun.




Once the word got out, that Potter was there, almost everybody in the stadium craned their necks to see the hero of the wizarding world. Unfortunately Ron's teammate Steve, was paying more attention to Harry than to his game. A bludger hit him between the shoulder blades and knocked him completely off his broom. The only thing that saved him from a long stay in St. Mungos, was Harry, who whipped out his wand and bellowed an arresting charm.



Katzmann still hit pretty hard. The stadium's healers floated his body off the pitch and to the infirmary.





Ron's new week started badly, by his being called on the carpet. The Cannons' owner, one Alice Phillips, had seen his 'unusual' hairdo, and demanded he explain to her satisfaction, his apparent defection to the enemy. That led to his explaining about the prank presumably played by his brothers, who were now well known throughout the wizarding world for their joke shop, and then to his sister who was seeker for the Harpies. That little titbit did not garner him any friends on the board! Still, Mrs. Phillips wanted to know why Ron's brothers and his sister, would play such a vicious prank on him, especially as he would likely be quite visible to the fans.


Slowly, painfully, the truth was dragged out. To say Mrs. Phillips was not pleased would to be an understatement of nearly Biblical proportions. She summarily dismissed the rest of the board and stood nose to nose with Ron for the next hour screaming invective at him at the top of her voice, like a South London dockworker. Ron noted some hours later, in the tiny little part of his brain that was not still cringing in shock, astonishment and outright terror, that in all the time she was screeching she never once repeated a single foul word.



Relieved he had only been suspended for a month and not sacked, Ron decided to stop by the clubhouse and find someone to 'commiserate' with. He only hoped his 'little problem' would not show up tonight.



The party to welcome Steven Katzmann back from his short stay at St. Mungos was in full swing. He'd reported that Harry Potter, of all people, had visited him in his room after the healers had finished with him! Potter had called him a bloody idiot for losing concentration during a match, signed his jersey and left. The signed jersey now hung behind the bar protected by the best security charms money could buy. People clustered here and there drinking, swapping stories of past matches and playing snooker for pints.



Ron walked in, to be greeted by a loud "Hurrah!" Everybody there knew about his dressing down at the hands of the teams' owner, no less, and welcomed the survivor with the usual harassment. Pints were thrust his way, and a bevy of lovely young lasses, all wanting to shag a Quiddich player, grouped around him. Instantly his erection sprouted. Fortunately, his robes hid it well. Ron dearly hoped it wouldn't desert him when he needed it. That had happened so often, of late. He put it down to stress, and dismissed it entirely. Grabbing one of the offered mugs, Ron took a swig, and wrapped his arm around the nearest girl.



The party lasted well into the night. As the team would not be playing for a fortnight, or training until Monday, they were not too concerned with the regular curfew. They'd played hard, and lost spectacularly. "That ought to count for something, neh?" They had argued, rather successfully, it seemed.



As Ron was suspended, he didn't have a curfew. He and his soon-to-be conquest, Jennifer, played, drank, snogged, groped, touched, tickled, teased and did everything but actually shag, before they left together.



Ron and Jennifer stumbled drunkenly up the stairs to his flat. Wrapped in each other they fumbled the door open and fell inward.

"Bloody hell!" He growled. Jennifer just lay there, giggling.


Gaining his feet, Ron reached down and pulled his groupie to hers. Before they even reached the door to his bedroom, her top had gone flying, followed by his robe and her bra. He stumbled as he pulled her pants down over her luscious arse. Walking and stripping your girl while drunk was hard to do, even for wizards.


In the bedroom, he pushed her onto the bed, and pulled her knickers down her legs. She was open, wet and ready for him. Tossing the undergarment behind him, he unzipped his own trousers, and yanked them and his boxers off.


Now, he stood in all his not-inconsiderable glory. Jennifer's eyes widened at the sight and she savored the thought of the treat, which this night would be. Grinning wantonly, she drew her knees up and slowly let them fall to the sheets.



Ron settled over Jennifer, she waited anxiously as he positioned his cock at her opened pussy. He pushed into her, and thrust a couple times, grinning. 'YES!' He crowed triumphantly to himself.



Then it all went south.


His erection flagged immediately, and he slipped out. Try as he might, he couldn't get it to return. An hour later, Jennifer walked out, in utter contempt.





Every month, regular as clockwork, Ron would get a letter from Harry and Hermione. Of course, he always threw the letters into the fire. He didn't want to talk to those traitors!




Half a year later, Harry and Hermione Potter returned from their around-the-world honeymoon cruise. Ron was waiting. The next day, he apparated to Godric's Hollow, walked up to the front door and knocked.



Harry opened the door, and broke into a hearty grin as he greeted his oldest friend.

"Ron! Hey mate. How are you? Come in, come in!" Harry escorted Ron to the lounge, plonked him onto the deeply cushioned sofa, and asked Winky to provide some tea and biscuits.



The house elf returned and placed the tea service on the coffee table. As she popped away, Ron could have sworn she had smiled a particularly vindictive smile. He shuddered as icy tingles ran down his spine. Harry sat opposite, and poured. Handing the teacup to his mate, Harry asked: "How've you been, Ron?" It had been a long while since they'd seen each other, after all, and he wanted to catch up.


"Harry?" Ron asked, with no preamble. "Can you tell me what Hermione did?"

"What do you mean, Ron?" Harry appeared honestly curious, although he knew precisely what Ron was asking.

"Harry, I know it wouldn't have been you. You're not the type to do that to a bloke. Hermione is smart enough to think of it, but I honestly didn't think she was either, until I overheard Ginny and the twins talking. She cast some sort of spell on me that makes it so I can't...well, you know!" Ron was now blushing so brightly, Harry was tempted to turn out the lights, just to see what would happen.



Hermione chose that moment to walk in, with a nasty smirk.

"Ron." She explained. "We sent you instructions on how to break the spell every month...well after the third month, anyway."


She explained to her old friend, how she had taken a 'performance enhancing' charm and reversed it. She mixed it with something she'd developed, that would ensure Ron got an erection as soon as he saw a new girl, any new girl, but would, moments after he entered her, cause it to fail him! Then she refused to remove it! She did, however, explain the catch.


The catch was this: If Ron continued to use women as he'd done, he would continue to have this particular erectile dysfunction, for as long as it took to learn his lesson. Once he did, the charm would fade.

Fini





A/N: As with the last chapter, I don't speak French, either. Again, I used Babel fish as my translator. I'm sorry, but my comp doesn't use the French accents. I added what I could.


Ma De'esse! Que pensait-il? (My Goddess! What was he thinking?)

Il devrait etre fouette! (He should be whipped!)

Il merite d'etre Chatre'! (He deserves to be castrated!)

As before, no insult to those who speak French is intended.

Charlie's misquoted line comes from Kipling's 'Gunga din'. "You're a better man, than I am, Gunga Din, Gunga Din. You're a better man than I, Gunga Din!"

Steve Katzmann is a bud from the Marine Corps.

Alice Phillips was my mother. She was a joyous and beautiful woman with a weird sense of humor and at times, had a tongue that could scorch wood. She passed away in '01.

Coach McGrath is drawn from a real person. He is one of the few officers I served with that was actually worth a damn. His son and my daughter played together whenever we went to the park. Unlike any of the other zero's I knew, he really didn't care if you were officer or enlisted. He treated you like a human being, and was more interested in getting the job done safely, than worrying about how it would look on his career. Too bad the rest of those useless prima donnas don't think that way.