[nov mp] content de te revoir

"No! We say no!" a strident voice yelled down the street. "We will not be silenced!"

The passionate proclamation was followed by barely suppressed laughter. Jeremie elbowed his friend as they crowded the streets of Chatoeil to join the protest. Jeremie wasn't typically the sort of guy to care about protests and international law and all that, but a few drinks last night turned into a midnight he couldn't remember and that was followed by early hours he couldn't recall and now he found himself in the streets of hometown, joining the protest.

Chatoeil was normally a quiet town, especially at this morning hour. But the chilly November morning couldn't keep down the crowds. The main street was busy, full of protesters chanting clever rhymes about Snuggles, some even hoisting signs above their heads. But Jeremie and his friend Guillaume had decided to take a different approach to protest. They had really wanted to garner some attention for this pressing issue. They clearly hadn't thought their actions through, however. Not that Jeremie ever did. Plus everything still seemed a little fuzzy.

But one second he was running down the streets in full protest and the next, he had been immobolized by a charm, hauled into a nearby alley away from prying eyes and restrained.

"You can't do this! We will not be silenced!!" Jeremie yelled at the aurors, struggling futilely against his restraints.

It's not like he hadn't been arrested before. But this time was a little different. Mostly because he was butt naked. Didn't even have his wand on him. He might have said he never felt freer, if only he wasn't handcuffed and about to be arrested for public nudity...


@Chantal Garnier

“I’m not paid enough for this.” Chantal muttered as she was picking up pygmy puffs from a slight opening in the ground, which lead towards the sewers. Earlier that night, or perhaps better put – the previous night, the protesters in the Chatoeil had ravaged throughout the wizarding city, their peaceful protests taking a sudden turn when reaching one of the pet shops. They had broken into the shop and let all the animals loose, and while owls and cats weren’t an issue, the little pygmy puffs had gotten lost and confused, and a lot of them even fell into holes and ended up underground. The former Ombrelune, along with her partner, had spent the last two hours picking up the pygmy puffs because, as their direct superior had stated, protesters could even attack the aurors should they believe the official forces were for animal cruelty as well. Ironically enough, Chantal and her partner were given the task of gathering back all the pygmy puffs, to bring sympathy towards the forces. Many protesters did acclaim them as they did so, however, Chantal definitely didn’t see picking up pygmy puffs on her job description when getting hired. This was absolutely an entire new level of ludicrousness.

The pygmy puffs surrounded the young auror as she picked up the last one from the hole. “Thirty. I guess I’ll be giving them back to the owner now.” The girl informed her partner, who was up a ridiculously tall and already decorated Christmas tree, to save some pygmy puffs which somehow ended at the very top. One would wonder why they had to do everything manually and not simply use spells and charms to gather the lost little animals, but there was an explanation: a spell or a charm used on the little ones could get the protesters say the aurors were inciting animal cruelty and, yet again, that was not the impression they wanted to make. Chantal picked up all the pygmy puffs and held them tight to her chest, as she got up from the ground and started making her way towards the devastated pet shop, whose owner was probably still crying crocodile tears over his tragic destiny. Luckily enough though, the man had seen Chantal through his shop’s broken windows and came up to meet her halfway, and thanked her numerous times for her “good” deed before going to clean his merchandise.

Turning around on her heel, the young auror definitely didn’t plan on helping her partner, but instead decided to head towards the local headquarters. She didn’t even manage to take two steps, as three aurors ran out of an alley, most likely in the search of some protesters who committed an infraction and had to be arrested. She sighed deeply, wondering if these protests would ever stop; their department technically wouldn’t meddle in internal affairs, however, due to the protests’ magnitude, the Ministry had to use every auror in their staff, declaring the demonstrations the highest priority for all.

Garnier, come here. It echoed into her mind, as she heard her boss’ voice coming out from the before mentioned alley. Having not slept for almost over thirty hours now, Chantal’s very core of her being shuddered, wondering what she had done in a previous life to deserve this. She took a deep breath, straightened her back, and started walking in her boss’ direction. The alley was especially windy, and it made her long hair run wild, which made the entire situation even more annoying and irritating than it already was. Drawing closer, Chantal noticed her boss was not alone, but in someone else's company, and upon taking an even closer look, the young auror stopped in the middle of the alley, completely frozen, her eyes widened with shock and her jaw dropping slowly.

The situation there in the alley was fully straight out of a science fiction. Firstly, her boss seemingly had arrested a male protester who had adopted a rather extravagant means of demonstrating his love for Snuggles: public exhibitionism. Secondly, the nudist there was her former Quidditch captain, Jeremie Pêcheur. Before she even had a chance to react to all of that, her superior began walking her way; the older auror pat Chantal on the back twice and told her to “handle” this. The girl’s eyes widened with even more shock than before, as she shrugged her shoulders, in an expression of “what did I do to deserve this” protest of her own, however, her boss already used his perfectly amazing and flawless Disapparition skills to poof into thin air.

“Why me??” Chantal yelled out loud, the echo of her highly irritated and annoyed voice resonating in the alley. She could literally feel her sanity slowly going down the drain along with the pygmy puffs she had probably missed out on gathering. This was surely karma getting back at her for leaving her partner climb that three meters high Christmas tree by himself.

Turning around on her heel to face Jeremie, her eyes started analysing the situation at hand. An amalgam of emotions came upon her. To begin with, he was completely naked, just as he was brought into this world. Chantal’s gaze narrowed a bit as she looked at his body. While she rarely found people attractive, this time the girl had to admit that the former Ombrelune’s broad shoulders, his muscles, his abs, were like the ones of a Greek god and definitely made her feel as if it was the middle of summer and not the beginning of winter. As her gaze lowered towards his pelvic area, Chantal’s right eyebrow arched, as she thought that at least he had something to compensate for his lack of brains.

Then it hit her. This was Jeremie Pêcheur; that idiot, that retard, that jerk, that one person who she actually considered equal to worms. Truth be told, the half of Chantal which wasn’t completely fascinated with his out-of-this-world perfect body absolutely wanted to put him in jail for life and throw his cell’s key straight into Vesuvius. The mere thought that he’d been the first person she kissed made the auror want to slap herself into oblivion. 

Being brought back to reality thanks to that last thought, Chantal noticeably quivered in disgust. “For the love of everything good in this world – “ She said sharply, taking off her cloak as she drew closer as quickly as humanly possible. “ – put something on, you’re so repulsing my stomach hurts.” The girl shoved her cloak into his chest, as she avoided meeting his eyes. Chantal had yet to realise her cloak was half dirty from her previous work of rescuing pygmy puffs from the sewers, however, hopefully, Jeremie would still wear it as it was.

As the former Ombrelune knelt on the cold, hard ground, his knees began to hurt and he realized with disgust that clearly the alcohol that had been swimming through his veins was wearing off. And more quickly than he wanted it to. He could use a little alcohol-infused warmth right now.

Aurors walked the alley and down the street and he smirked as they tried to 'handle' the situation. Everyone not exactly sure how to 'handle' him. He smirked at the boss who called in another Auror. How many people did it take to deal with him, he thought with a glance down at his package that wasn't suffering at all from the cold November air, smirking arrogantly. Jeremie saw a vision of blonde hair and a familiar silhouette as another Auror came closer. It was one of those moments where you think the alcohol haze makes you see something that can't quite be true.. just likes when you do three shots in rapid fashion and then think you can ride a magic mechanical bull without falling off. Reality comes up and slaps you in the face. Just like it was doing now to him.

Chantal. Chantal fucking Garnier. Was standing in front of him. Her blonde hair falling around her face and down her shoulders just like it always did. Her full lips, pink like fresh berries, and her big blue-green eyes staring at him with - yep - disdain. It was things had never changed. And yet Jeremie didn't feel like he was the same boy who had fallen for this girl just a few years ago.

Everything rushed back to him. The constant competition which soon turned to something a little more that simple easy competition. The flirting and daring which soon turned to something more along the lines of attraction. At least on his side. He still remembered her lips and he wanted to punch himself in the throat for it. Why his mind was so intent on remembering how much of a bitch she had been to him after he finally had made the mistake of acting whipped was beyond him.

Looking at Chantal's raised eyebrow reminded him of exactly how they had left things. As nothing. Not that he had had a choice in it. The only consolation he had as the pain radiated up from his knees was that she seemed to be checking him out. He let his lips curl up slightly as he tried not to hold back a grin. Jeremie hadn't exactly chosen to be streaking just for the political reasons. He knew he looked good. He didn't even both covering himself with his hands.

But as she came to her senses, Jeremie glared as she threw him her cloak. The garment was impossibly soft but the stench... "Merlin, what the hell!" He said as he tried to shrug the cloak off him, his hands not much of a help in the cuffs, as it smelled so bad. He'd rather just wear his anger to keep him warm. "It smells worse than my great uncle's ball sack. Don't put that on me."

He got a whiff of the perfume she must wear, but the stench overwhelmed him and he glared up at her. "So Garnier. You're who they send to deal with the nudists?" he said as his hard blue eyes took her in.

Truthfully speaking, Chantal had never thought that she’d see Jeremie ever again in her lifetime. She had done her best to avoid him at Beauxbatons, and the former Ombrelune always just assumed the world was big enough for them not to run into one another as adults. It seemed that fate really did play one on her, especially after the auror put particularly a good amount of effort in avoiding her male house mate during her time at school. The reason she had avoided him was simple; the Chantal back then felt that she was falling for Jeremie (she did fall for him, but was still somewhat in denial, particularly because she refused to consider her teenage self had been so stupid), but in the end his reputation preceded him. Rumour back then had it Jeremie was a bit on the floozy side, and while Chantal herself didn’t like to believe in gossip and random chats, the girl hadn’t desired to find out they were true. The risk of finding out on her own skin scared her.

However, it would be a lie to say she hadn’t suffered about it. The fact that she buried herself in schoolwork was just for show, in order for her not to think of Jeremie. Later on, she did see him with another girl, which proved that her decision had been right, but still, it had hurt. For that, she hated him. Chantal despised him for proving that the rumours regarding him were true. Nonetheless, there was a part of her which didn’t hate him, the part of her which remembered she had been the first boy to kiss, the part of her which still thought of him when Britney’s ‘Crazy’ came on the radio, although she would not admit it aloud. She had heard that a girl never forgets her first love, however Chantal refused to categorise Jeremie as such, despite it being the truth.

“I don’t think you’re in a position where you can afford luxuries.” The auror commented sharply, bothered by the comparison. However, she only now realised that her cloak was possibly the worst thing to offer someone who was naked, and also probably quite cold. The early morning November air was unquestionably not gentle that dawn. Chantal sighed as she started to unbutton the outside layer of her robes – lucky for him, she was wearing her winter ones already, which had three layers.

“I’m sorry.” She apologised, probably for the first time ever in front of the other former Ombrelune. And she meant it; even Chantal wasn’t that bad of a person to leave someone naked in the crisp cold of early winter. Particularly because she was also on the clock, and didn’t want to be categorised as one of those heartless aurors, especially after spending way too much time rescuing pygmy puffs to save the image of the certain line of work. As she finished unbuttoning her robe, Chantal took it off and walked in Jeremie’s direction, handing it over delicately this time – in the end, it was made out of silk, with a nice and elegant layer of lace above it. It was pearl grey in colour, and one of Chantal’s favourites, which made her regret the decision of wearing it today, when she had had to do awful work in the sewers. “This one smells of Gucci Rush Red, which should be nice enough.” Well, nice enough if he ignored the smell of cigarettes and coffee, which was already imprinted on Chantal’s skin, not to mention her clothing.  "Please just cover yourself, I need to focus on work." The former Ombrelune added, hopeful that he would catch the hint that the more he stayed naked, the longer it would take her to 'solve' his case. 

“Wow. You remember my surname. Shocking. What about my name?” She let out with slight sarcasm in her voice, and yet a bit entertained by his remark. “As a matter of fact, no. Actually, it’s a sudden promotion. Dealing with nudists. As you smelt yourself on my cloak.” Chantal nodded her head in both amusement and bitterness, as she raised her gaze, and looked Jeremie in the eyes for the first time. After a few moments, she blinked twice, and her gaze lowered, to look at his handcuffs. Bending down herself, her right hand touched one of the bracelets’ edge, carefully examining the ‘accessory’.  Chantal found herself kneeling in front of Jeremie, as the examination caught her undivided attention, and she needed to be at the same level as him in order to check them out better. With her left hand, she took out her own pair of handcuffs from her robe’s inner pocket, and started comparing the two pairs. “I can’t believe this.” Chantal said on a very annoyed tone. “Boss’ are gold in colour, and mine are silver. Such discrimination, I swear. My partner will be so pissed off when he finds out about this.” She nodded in disapproval, casually remembering her auror partner saying that he wanted to have gold handcuffs, to show off with his arrests like trophies. Well, she had to give him that; the golden handcuffs were definitely quite a good touch. It made Jeremie himself look like an Oscars trophy. She suddenly felt very thirsty and didn’t know why, coughing twice as she cleared her throat. It was definitely chilly without both her cloak and a layer of robes on.

“Anyway, Monsieur Jeremie Pêcheur, aside from your voice changing, do you mind updating me with other news, such as telling me how you got into Snuggles activism and most importantly, public exhibitionism?” As Chantal asked that, a small, silver quill with a matching parchment made their way out of her robes, already writing things down for her as they levitated behind her. Grabbing the golden handcuff a bit roughly, Chantal drew it closer to her, along with Jeremie’s hands. “I’ll have to see if I can take these off, without having to call back my boss. The head aurors’ handcuffs tend to be… special. But, in the end, handcuffing for public exhibitionism is a bit radical.” Chantal sighed as she mostly thought out loud, not specifically addressing herself to the younger wizard. She wondered if her superiors even realised that it was a bit of an abuse there. Jeremie didn’t actually harm anyone per se, but his actions were more among the lines of violating people’s vision with probably undesired images. Consequently, as much as she liked seeing Jeremie with that certain pair of bracelets and wanted them to remain on him until the end of forever, the auror really did believe handcuffs were a bit too much for this case, and her job definitely came first.

Jeremie stilled and frowned so hard he almost gave himself a headache. She.. apologized..? And it almost sound like she meant it. He didn't know how to process that, definitely didn't expect it, and al lhe could bring himself to do was scoff at her apology. He must be drunker than he thought. Clearly he had somehow missed the bite of her sarcasm that had to have accompanied that 'apology'. The Chantal he knew wouldn't have let those soft words fall from her perfect lips. As she came closer, Jeremie's dark blue eyes darted to her hands, expecting a wand, expecting a hex. It's what he would have done.. well, maybe what he imagined himself doing.

Instead of cursing him, she softly laid her cloak on his shoulder and Jeremie was wrapped in the sharp tang of cigarettes, the sweet rush of her perfume, and the dark roast of the coffee lingering in the fabric. The silk was soft against his skin, like clouds wrapping touching him everywhere and warming his cold skin. He sank back onto his heels as the silk rustled around him, making him a picture of oddity, masculinity wrapped in the most feminine garment you could imagine. His smirk was pure male arrogance though. "Were you having problems focusing?" he asked innocently, his dark blue eyes showing how much of a sinner he was.

Her sarcasm settled around her like the familiar cloak he knew and he lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug, the lace gray cloak moving with him. "Of course, how could I forget Ombrelune's biggest bitch, Channelle," Jeremie said, purposely saying the wrong name and hoping it irked her. His words had bite to them and he was itching for a fight, whether it was because of the alcohol in his blood daring him to take it further or whether it was because of her sudden reappearance back in his life, he wasn't sure. But as she came closer, he found himself stilling again, racketing up for something he wasn't sure of. She bent closer, so close he could reach out and touch her, so near he could see the green flecks in her blue eyes. Too close. She was going on about the cuffs and the color and about her partner and all Jeremie could do was think about how soft her hair looked and then promise he was going to give himself a black eye for even thinking something that ridiculous.

He tried to shake himself out of it, knowing he had already gone down that road and hadn't liked where it ended up. Jeremie hardened  his resolve, his brows coming lower over his eyes and he smirked. "Shouldn't be news to you," he drawled. "Nudity and I have been lifetime friends. This is just the first time I've gotten caught." He grunted as she pulled him closer by pulling on the cuffs and he had to catch himself on the heels of his hands, the gravel of the street biting into his skin. "Please let the record state," Jeremie said with his eyes on the quill recording their words behind her, "that the detained man refused Auror Garnier's sexual advances, a gross misappropriation of ministry power and that I'll be speaking to my lawyer about this." He watched as the quill scribbled the words, laughing inside at the idea of her having to explain the report notes to her supervisor.

Even from his knees, Jeremie was taller than her as she bent down near him and he looked down at her, his eyes tracing the line of her body. "Please take your sweet time taking these cuffs off. I have all day," he said in a whisper, sarcasm coating his voice.

Chantal tried her best to abstain from laughing upon seeing a man such as Jeremie wearing something as feminine as her cloak. However, it was better than nothing, so she decided to not comment at all on the matter. His own reply though, irked her. Not because Jeremie said it, not because of how he said, but because it was true. “Well.” The young auror cleared her throat quickly. “Anyone would have problems dealing with exhibitionists. Am sure that I would’ve had had problems focusing the same amount if it’d have been a 130 year old man instead of… you.” She emphasised her displeasure and distaste in the last word. He was starting to irritate her already, and Chantal could literally feel the blood starting to boil in her veins.

Jeremie kept adding fuel the freshly set fire in Chantal, which made her grasp around the handcuffs a bit tighter than before. It was a gesture she didn’t control, and also didn’t notice. Anger was slowly, yet very efficiently starting to get best of her. It was ironic though, how she hadn’t felt like this in years. Stress, yes; filled with anger and rage? No. “Channelle, yes, that’s it. Perfect.” She smiled as serenely as she could, despite the fact that her eyes were wanting to kill him right with a mere sight. She raised her gaze, and looking him in the eyes she went on. “It’s good to know you perfectly remember the name of the auror that can throw you in jail for the rest your life and just let you rot there like a useless rodent.” Her smile widened for a moment, and before she could get distracted by that perfect jawline of his, Chantal lowered her gaze to the handcuffs again.

She didn’t know what annoyed her more. The fact that he seemed so attractive to her, or the fact that Jeremie managed to push her buttons like nobody else. It’s been years and it was already obvious within only a few minutes that he could still do that better than anyone, which made her feel completely awful. Dirty, ashamed, and absolutely weak, all emotions which Chantal despised more than anything. She knew she was playing it safe by not looking at his face too much, and she hated doing so, but she felt she would get even weaker and even angrier with herself if she were to carefully look at him. And the auror was on the clock, she couldn’t afford acting in an unprofessional manner. Chantal worked so hard all these years, so the former Ombrelune simply couldn’t afford Jeremie ruining her perfect record. She needed to be objective, to remain objective.

It was now the first time ever since starting work back in France that she wished Isidoro were with her, and not rescuing random pygmy puffs from Christmas trees. Chantal felt like she needed a proper adult around if she wanted to finish up this case quickly. “You sound too proud for a perpetrator who was caught right in the act by... 2? 3? aurors.” She remarked mostly for the quill to note down, without any emotions whatsoever in her tone. The fact that everything was going down on record was also adding to her tension, which wasn’t good.

Record state what? Chantal thought, quickly raising her gaze as Jeremie’s waterfall of bashful words were ending up on the official parchment. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened in shock upon hearing what he was saying. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, yet knowing that she would explode at any second. And, at the mention of the word ‘lawyer’, it was all done, as Chantal just felt like Vesuvius exploded within her.

And he had the outrageous nerve to even say that she was taking her time removing his handcuffs. She straightened her back, and raised her head, along with her gaze. “Sexual advances?” Chantal whispered filled with rage, between two deep breaths, before roughly pulling his hands close, up to her chest, and placing her own set of handcuffs on him. Forget about removing the first one, if Chantal had more pairs with her, she would put them all on. “Classify this as a VIP case and. Stop. Writing.” The young witch said as sharply as possible, the quill doing as requested and after putting down a VIP clause, it stopped writing.

As soon as she heard the noise of the scribble stopping, Chantal took yet another deep breath, as she offered Jeremie the sweetest smile she could possibly make. She lifted her right hand, and ran it through his hair, while her left one rested on his chest. Pushing him hard against the wall quite roughly, Chantal also pulled his hair as hard as she could, which was quite a bit, as even if she didn’t show it, the French girl was quite physically strong. In the end, she was an auror. “Listen here, you criminal.”

She was too close to him, possibly closer than she would have liked. But the rage got the best of her this time around. “Aside from public exhibitionism, what you just did is legally called defamation of a Ministry official. Any lawyer with a minimum of knowledge will tell you that.” Chantal wanted to slap him. She literally felt every fibre of her being simply yelling out the desire to slap the hell out of his gorgeous face. “I can actually get you time for this if I play my cards right.” Ultimately, she was in charge. The lead auror left, letting her to ‘handle’ this. “To think I was stupid enough to want to get you out of those handcuffs.”

It was absolutely shocking to her that now rescuing pygmy puffs from the sewers sounded like a dream job. “How many years should I file you in for? One? No. Too little. Three? Four? Five? Five’s the best I think, right? Just enough time for dementors to have their precious lovely way with you.” Chantal smirked, her rage and annoyance being more than just obvious and not subtle at all. It was to the extent that she even had to take deep breath after deep breath. The auror absolutely hated Jeremie right now, and that was the only thing she could think of.

"So oldies.. that's what you're into?" Jeremie asked, his lips curling cruelly as he threw another sarcastic remark at her, hoping maybe one of her colleagues would hear. He wanted it to needle her and he didn't mind any opportunity that came up for extra ammunition. He wondered if it was his imagination or maybe the cold affecting his brain or if her cheeks really were turning pink. With irritation? Anger? Good. She deserved it.

"How could I forget a girl like Channelle," he said sweetly, refusing to believe his chest was tightening just because she pinned him with her blue-green eyes. "Throw me in jail? For a little nudity. Sounds a 'bit radical,'" Jeremie said, quoting her own words back at her, not believing even for a nanosecond that she would do something like that. Idle threats, that's all her words were.

"Why would I be sorry for it?" Jeremie threw right back at her, shaking his head. "The Snuggles movement is.. very important." Yep. Snuggles. That's why he had done it. He wasn't sure if he remembered who or what Snuggles was. He frowned and tried to remember. He might need it for his story but the details of last night or this morning or anything outside of Chantal wasn't that clear to him in his memory. She was like a splash of cool water to the face. Or maybe a slap to wake you right up. He wasn't sure if it was more refreshing to have this opportunity to annoy her or a new hell to have seen her again. Dammit. No it was definitely hell, he told himself.

Her widened eyes at the words he said for benefit of the quill made him grin and a surge of what felt like victory soared through him. Victory while he was kneeling pretty much naked after being arrested? It was new to him too, but he went with it. She pulled him even closer and he threatened to lose his balance all over again, but he found her putting another set of cuffs on and he rolled his eyes, a chuckle rumbling deep in his chest beneath the gray silk frilly cloak. "VIP?" he repeated with a self-satisfied smile. The expression stuttered and stopped on his face a moment later as she ran her fingers through his hair, her other on his chest. He could feel the warmth of her hands against his cool skin even through the cloak and he looked down at her, his eyes darkening, but then she took him by surprise. He found himself shoved into the wall, hard. Chantal was stronger than she looked and she got right in his face.

Jeremie tried to keep his reaction neutral, unfazed, but he found his anger rising up within him to match hers. Anger years-old that he hadn't even known he had still held onto, like boxes of old parchment you forget are in your attic. "As if you could do any of that," he spit right back at her, not holding himself back from the vitriolic thoughts that were running rampant within him. He leaned closer, his breath almost mingling with hers in the cold chilly air. "You're probably only one step higher than an intern. Otherwise, why would you be dispatched to handle something as 'high risk' as public nudity. Look at you, Garnier, just as stuck up as always. Guess some things never do change."

She didn’t deserve this. Chantal truly believed she hadn’t sinned that much in life, probably her biggest sin by now being that she put a John Travolta posted on her ceiling, above her bed. But that on its own was not karma coming back at her. It was Jeremie’s fault, it always was, it had always been. Her being in crazy situations, mad and filled with rage, meant that he won. He always won. The fact that Jeremie could so easily control her was awful and a seemingly never-ending living nightmare. Her pale complexion slowly flushed in her cheeks, Chantal’s rage becoming in more than one way physically visible.

“Bit radical is me ever thinking I could set a public menace like you loose.” She narrowed her eyes with bitterness, not even knowing what to do next, because his words just kept the volcano within her in a constant explosion, and in an overwhelming amount of mixed feelings. She wanted to seem, and actually was, upset and threatening, but he was winning. Why was he always winning, why?

“Very important?” Chantal repeated, perfectly mimicking his tone, being absolutely sure that if she were to ask him right here and right now what a Snuggles was, Jeremie wouldn’t know. His frown said everything. And the former Ombrelune had wanted to ask him that question exactly, however, Jeremie’s second waterfall of insults had gotten Chantal to realise that perhaps it wasn’t the best time to ask him that. Well, it wasn’t that the timing was bad, but the place surely was.

She could still win this. Her rage had gotten the best of her and yet, it was showing signs of making things turn her way as well.

Chantal let out an ironic laughter as a smirk appeared on her face, drawing back from Jeremie, yet still holding a tight grip on his handcuffs. She got up, forcing him as well. “I’m not stuck up. I am actually superior in every possible way.” Chantal playfully wet her lips and, as soon as Jeremie was up as well, she cleared her throat, the quill and parchment making their way back in their pocket. As she kept a tight grip on his handcuffs with her left hand, Chantal hummed a soft tune upon looking carefully at her right one.

Her manicure was neatly done, and her nails were a bit on the long side; too long for a normal day, but maybe just long enough for today. Just enough to possibly leave scratches. “You know, I really think my hand here will look amazingly perfect… on your god damn face.” Chantal slapped him as hard as she could, the second afterwards Apparating herself and her prisoner to the Chatoeil headquarters. To be more specific, it was actually an Apparition effectuated so they were actually in the middle of a cell. A cell which was also populated with several other arrested individuals, most of whom were violent protesters.

As many recognised Chantal from that day, a lot started boo’ing at her. It felt amazing. All the noises felt as if, like the head auror said, she had an exposition of trophies. The louder the boo’s one had, the more arrests they had, and the more trophies they had. While Chantal had spent her last hours with pygmy puffs, it was obvious that she had spent the rest of the protests quite differently. She let go of the grip she had on Jeremie’s handcuffs and turned around on her heel, exiting the cell and laughing as it locked automatically behind her.

She turned around on her heel yet again, her long hair making quite the spectacle. “Quiet.” Chantal said, sharply enough for everyone to understand that she was not in the mood to play games with them. She was fanning herself with her right hand, mostly because it hurt. That slap had hurt her physically. Chantal could only hope it had hurt Jeremie even more than it did her. “Alright, so – “ She started, as a younger auror-in-training brought her a list of the names in the prison cell, for her to add her newest acquisition on it.

Chantal took the parchment, but only glanced at it for the moment, before her gaze raising and focusing on the familiar figure behind bars. “So Jeremie, it seems that the guy right there, whom I arrested at 1854 hours yesterday night is a magizoologist.” She winked in the other arrested guy’s direction, her gaze turning back at Jeremie quickly. “Actually everyone here is a Snuggles activist.” Chantal shrugged, smiling almost angelically in her former house mate’s direction.

“As I still need to complete your file, would you, Monsieur Jeremie Pêcheur, be kind enough to enlighten us all – “ She made a dramatic pause, in which someone from the cell opposite from Jeremie wolf whistled in his direction, causing Chantal to giggle as she finished the question. “ – as to what a Snuggles actually is?”