hA/N: Calvin and I would like to thank our friend Leigh for helping us remember the word "Threshold"….THANK YOU!! And there is a quote from John F. Kennedy…slightly modified. Original quote: "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country."
Chapter 3
"For of all sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest are these: 'It might have been!'"
-John Greenleaf Whittier, "Maud Muller"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
In the aftermath of the Russian mobilization, the United States of America broke relations with the military/KGB-controlled government. This heightened tensions across the planet, even the best work of the United Nations and other global non-governmental organizations was not enough to pressure the Russians and Americans to stand down from their rapidly approaching stalemate.
In the magical world, these strains were also felt. The International Confederation of Wizards' general assembly broke into wild disarray when the American Minister of Magic and the Russian Magical Premier exchanged harsh words over the proper magical response to the crisis. Even the normally calming presence of Minister of Magic, Harry J. Potter, of the United Kingdom could not stop the Confederation from failing every resolution that would help to alleviate the crisis.
And on the Moon, twenty nuclear weapons were rapidly approaching their date with destiny.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Four moves to checkmate.
Well, what if he-
No, you have that covered.
Right. D'you reckon that-
No.
Okay.
Knight takes pawn.
Hit buzzer.
Smirk.
Ron Weasley leaned back in his chair and delivered his smirk (with at least some hint of sportsmanship in it, he preferred to retain his reputation as a nice guy around here).
His opponent of this game, world chess champion Dimitri Romanov, rubbed his nose as he looked at the sixty-four black and white squares on the chessboard. The rubbing of the nose was a nervous tick, something the sixty-six year old champ had picked up after over half a century of playing difficult and harrowing chess tournaments.
Finally, and with great reluctance, Romanov extended his index finger and knocked over his king.
"There is no way out. A very good gambit, Mr. Weasley."
Ron extended his arm to shake hands with the chess master for giving him a challenge - sort of - but in mid-move, a loud crash sounded in his ears. The doors flew open and a flurry of people filed into the room where the match was being held.
The flurry of people were all adorned in crisp black suits and ties, and confidently, they strode forward to Ron. The youngest male Weasley gulped, his fight-or-flight instinct starting to kick in…unfortunately, his instinct wasn't quite sure which of the two options would make him seem the most like a daft prat; and he remained motionless in his chair.
One man - a rather stocky fellow at that, Ron noted - stepped close to him and said, "Ronald Weasley?"
Gulping, he nodded his head. "Yes."
"Please come with us. Your presence has been requested."
Ron looked at Romanov, but the old man seemed just as shocked as Ron, as the ex-world's chess champion's mouth hung open like something akin to a gaping fish's.
Ron's throat, which was suddenly quite dry, managed to gurgle out only two words. "By whom?"
"The Minister," replied the mysterious man as he stepped to the side in order to allow the young Weasley room to step forward.
Ron's grin was enough to power London. "Harry? Gor blimey, well, why didn't you just say so?"
The mysterious Hermes of sorts found that he didn't have a reply to that, so he merely motioned for Ron to leave with them.
Ron shrugged, gave a quick handshake to a dumfounded Romanov and strode out the door. Just as he approached the threshold, he heard an unmistakable "Obilviate!" from the room.
He'd better well remember that I beat him, or else I'll....do....something....dunno what though.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The young red-haired man confidently opened the door to Harry's office. Striding in, he said, "So, Harry, what do you need now?"
However, the face he expected to see wasn't there at the moment. Instead, he came face to face with a rather familiar brown-haired woman...one he hadn't seen since their final battle against Voldemort. "Blimey! Hermione, is that you?"
"Hi, Ron."
Hermione's face flushed with embarrassment as Ron strode over to her and gave a rather bone-crushing hug.
As Harry entered the room, Ron turned to him and shook his hand with a grip that was unseemly tight.
"So," Ron said with a wicked grin upon his visage. "What does the Minister's childhood mate need to do for the service of his Government?"
Laughing, Harry replied, "Ask not what your ministry can do for you, but what you can do for your ministry."
Ron sank into the plush chair in front of Harry's desk and smoothly placed his heels on the oak tabletop. "Well Potter," he mock-scolded, "Out with it!"
"Well," Harry began, "This time we need your help on a rather..." He paused, searching for the right word and glancing at Hermione in the process, "...complicated project."
Ron pursed his lips and pretended to moan, "Okay, I get it. So you want Malfoy to be your wedding coordinator and you didn't know how to tell me. It's all right...I know I was thinking purple and chartuse as bridal colors, but whatever you want is fine with me."
Hermione narrowed her eyes dangerously as she glared at Ron. "Ron!" she snapped irritably, "Now's not the time to make jokes! This is a life and death situation! People could die!"
For his part, Harry managed to keep a stoic face. However, as soon as Hermione had broken eye contact with Ron, he winked at his old friend.
Ron merely raised an eyebrow as he recognized the fact that Hermione hadn't really changed all that much. He was about to crack another joke before he decided that Hermione was right - as she often was. Now was most definitely not the time to be a comedian.. "I hadn't realized the situation was so volatile, but we can't panic, Hermione. There's always a solution. Now start from the beginning...what's the problem?"
Hermione answered Ron. "We've found traces of dark magic at a top-secret muggle laboratory."
Ron's eyes flashed with fear. "Dark magic?"
Harry grimaced and sat down at his desk as he remembered about his friend's struggle with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I forgot to tell Hermione! He himself had nearly forgotten about Ron's reaction to the final battle. How Voldemort had conjured those spiders all over Fred and George's bodies....as Ron was tied down, helpless. How Lucius had tried to...rape....Ginny before Harry had burst the door's hinges and saved her....
He sighed as the painful memories arose in his mind once more. A few more seconds and he would have been too late...he almost didn't want to think about what would of happened had Hermione not deciphered the riddle stating their location in time.
"Well," Harry said softly, using the soothing tones that the St. Mungo's Healers had advised him to use around Ron when dark magic was the topic of conversation, "Yes. But its okay, Ron. Remember, Voldemort's dead and Ginny's okay. Remember that."
Ron lowered his feet from the desk and began shifting from side to side in his seat.
Hermione caught Harry's eye, but as soon as green met brown, Harry scowled. Resentment and bile filled his throat. She has some bloody nerve just waltzing in here and expecting everything to be the same. I'll never forget how Ron bloody cried when I told him Hermione was gone...she didn't even bloody bother to see him.
Hermione looked back at Ron, who was now humming softly and clenching his fists. She moved over to him slowly and knelt down in front of him. She spoke in a soft voice like Harry did. "Hey...it's okay. We survived...we're still here..."
Ron's eyes began filling with water as he looked at Hermione. "I know..." He looked down and folded his hands together and then looked at Hermione, directly in the eyes. "But why did you leave me?"
At that moment Hermione Granger's heart broke.
"Oh, Ron...I'm so sorry," Hermione said as her eyes overflowed with tears. Unable to control her emotions, she reached up and pulled Ron into a hug. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you…."
Ron just looked down.
Harry slammed his palms on his desk and stood up. "Damn it, Hermione! See what you've done!"
"First, you said you never loved me," Harry seethed, frustration venting from every fiber of his being…frustration he hadn't even felt when Hermione had first walked in. The shock had finally melted away and now a burned layer of scarred emotions rose to the surface. "But then you just left. You didn't just leave me, Hermione! You left Ron, and Ginny, and Malfoy…and," Harry heaved a breath, "You probably don't even know that Dumbledore's dead do you?"
As Harry was yelling at her, Hermione had slowly pulled her arms away from Ron and stood up to face Harry. When he mentioned that Dumbledore was no longer alive, she sucked in a breath...she hadn't known.
Her voice came out in a whisper. "When?"
"Two years ago," Harry bit off the words, syllable by syllable.
Hermione closed her eyes as she slowly began to realize the full consequences of her actions. "I didn't know..."
"Of course not."
This came from Ron, who had managed to dry up enough of his tears that he could speak lucidly. "You left me."
Harry smiled wryly. "You know what kills me the most?"
Hermione remained silent as she awaited the answer.
"Even though you left us...all of us...we still missed you. We wanted you to come back, Hermione. Dumbledore wanted to see you again, you know. But you never gave him a chance..."
Hermione wanted to sink into a corner and cry. Her studies at Cambridge, at ESA, on the Columbus Project...they'd taken her mind off of the wizarding world.
But now….
Now...it all came flooding back.
She had tried to run away from it. She kept her professional life busy enough so that she would never have to face her past.
And now when she looked at an irate Harry and a saddened Ron, she found herself completely lost.
She sank down into one of the chairs and stared blankly at the floor.
Ron seemed to be somewhat better, as he smiled wanly. "Well, Harry, just like old times, eh?"
Harry said nothing in reply. He just stared silently at Hermione. He began to feel the familiar feeling of regret rise up in his chest and tightening it.
All three of them remained silent for a long and awkward moment.
Finally, Hermione spoke.