Title: Some Enchanted Evening

Claimer: Everyone knows I created Harry Potter first and that horrible woman J.K. Rowling stole the idea from me... yes? Right now that we have that cleared up...

Summary: Ron hurries to his secret liaison with the muggle love of his life.

Note: This was written for the Writers Anonymous Branch Challenge, I don't normally write in the Potter fandom, I'm a scifi writer, the WAB's challenge is to write out of your normal genre or similar safety zone. Apologies to any canon I may have crossed. T

Warnings: It's a terrible tease really...

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Ron sat on a cold wooden bench in a breezy hallway. He was racked with guilt, but trying to hide it.

'What if they found out?' He'd be so ashamed. He was addicted, yes that was a fair description of how he felt about it. His dirty little muggle secret. His blank stare and private thoughts were interrupted by a cheerful spectacled face,

"Coming up to bed Ron?"

"What?" Harry's question had him off guard, was that a double entente?

"Are you going to bed or do you intend sleeping on this bench?" Harry plonked himself down next to his friend.

"Oh. Sorry I was miles away... um yeah in a bit. I'm just having a bit of a think first. You go, I'll be along in a while." Ron counter smiled at Harry's worried look.

"Well okay," Harry stood and took a step away, but stopped and turned back to Ron, "You know if there's something you want to talk about. I'm always here."

"I'm fine," Ron blurted out, "honestly... thanks Harry you're a true friend. I'm just trying to go over some homework in my head where it's quiet."

"Okay, see you in a while then" Harry said cheerfully and wandered away.

"Oh God he suspects something" Ron said to himself, but aloud.

"Who suspects what?" Hermione's face loomed over him suddenly.

Ron squeaked in shock, "Hermiome! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Ron you're acting so nervous. Look - your hand is shaking. What's going on?"

"Nothing's wrong! Except that you almost gave me a heart attack. There should be a law..." Ron mumbled the latter part to himself, and turned away from his inquisitor.

"Fine don't tell me then. I'll find out later anyway." She shot Ron a dirty look and swished away down the hall.

'Oh great Ron now you've got both Harry and Hermiome suspicious,' he though to himself.

After several more minutes of fretting on the bench he reasoned that everyone must have gone to their dorm rooms by then. He stood and checked that the hall was empty before he set off down it.

After a few minutes he'd reached his first destination. He looked around before he ducked inside a small wooden hatch set behind a tapestry and emerged into a dark narrow corridor between the walls of the school. He produced his wand from his pocket and whispered an illumination spell.

The darkness gave way only a few yards before him, and from another pocket he pulled a parchment he'd bought from his twin brothers, at a personal and humiliating cost that he hoped no one would find out about.

He examined the parchment and followed its instructions. Forward to a junction, take the left, second right and so on until he'd reached it.

He realised he was breathing heavily with the excitement of his soon to be illicit engagement. He paused and calmed himself. His hand that held his wand was still shaking, he extinguished the light and pushed at the small hatch. He heard the clatter of plates and cutlery on the other side, he continued pushing, but more gradually until there was gap enough for him to slip through.

He sprang from the stone floor so that he was standing in one of the abandoned kitchens of the school. Many such places existed, occasionally rooms would move about the building until they were too far from the dinning hall to be useful. It was darkened but still enough light existed to see by. Looking around to get his bearings he walked past a large sink with a few dishes waiting unwashed until someone remembered that they and this kitchen existed. The rhythmic drip, drip, drip of a leaky tap unnerved Ron somewhat, but he was determined to go ahead with his meeting.

He needed it.

A sudden hissing noise caused Ron to back into another shelf of plates which clattered with enough noise to wake the dead.

Then he realised.

The hissing noise, his beloved's hissing noise.

Joy wracked his mind, a huge smile grew across his face.

It was on.

He crossed the kitchen with a determined stride, all the fear washed aside by his passion. Nothing was going to get between them on this night.

He opened the small curtain that hid his love. He reached out to her, she was warm and ready. He picked up a small handle that lay on the bench next to them and pushed it into her. His fingers expertly twitched at her and he withdrew the handle, only to twist it to her again, this time closer to her centre.

She burbled with the delight of what was to come.

He firmly placed his hand on her side an pulled slowly forward. A bead of sweat ran down his temple as she issued a small cloud of steam that carried strange and wonderful fragrances to his nose. Then in a few seconds it was over. He pushed back at her side and withdrew to a table a few yards away, he'd taken what he needed from her.

He sat at the table and only then did he notice the dark figure that sat beside him.

"Young Weasley," Severus Snape's voice was unmistakable, it oozed dissatisfaction, "I see you too have acquired an addiction to this muggle habit."

"Um."

"I see you prefer yours black."

"Er."

"Well go on boy, don't let me get between you and your coffee."

"Ah."

Ron raised the cup to his lips, savouring the salty bitter liquid it contained, inhaling the glorious fragrances of a quality Kenyan blend.

Oh God yes.

The two sat in the gloom, sipping at their shared secret.

"I take it that continued access to my espresso machine will guarantee your silence?" Snape casually enquired.

"Oh, it's ah yours is it? Sorry."

(FIN)