Unofficial Portkey Archive

Open Your Eyes by radagast
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Open Your Eyes

radagast

The world looked different that morning as Harry made his way out to his Mazda. Not just because of the effects of the previous day's weather. Water had pooled out in the road and gathered on the thick leaves of the gnarled trees or shimmered with diverse colours as it mixed with the petrol from parked cars. The grass which had finished absorbing was now waterlogged and squelched beneath his feet.

Just as he opened the car door and glimpsed the leather interior, a hand holding a cloth covered his mouth and nose. He struggled fruitlessly against the overwhelming drowsiness but soon drifted out of consciousness.

He awoke later and instantly was on alert. His ankles had been tied firmly to the legs of the wooden chair he was seated uncomfortably on while his wrists were bound to the arm rests. The fastenings cut into his skin and he winced inwardly when he attempted to move.

"Ah…good morning, Mr. Potter," a voice snarled from the darkness. His head shot up but he could not make out anything in the lack of light. But he recognised the voice and decided to reciprocate the greeting.

"Same to you, Mr. Morealon. This is a tad bit inhospitable," he kept a polite tone to his voice. "Chloroform, tying, what's next…torture."

"Maybe, Mr. Potter. But only if you fail to agree to my conditions."

"Conditions? For what, may I ask?" Again the mock civility.

"This…case…you're building against Mr. Weasley. You see…it reminds me of our trivial affairs of a few months back and personally I do not wish to repeat those." Anybody listening would have believed it to be a courteous conversation between two respected people. After a long silence Morealon spoke again, this time an icy warning evident in his words. "You will stop this investigation immediately. What you find just might lead to more fatal events…So what do you say, Mr. Potter?"

"I'll think about it," he responded evenly. A hand wrenched back his hair along with his head and he felt cold steel pressed against throat. He looked into grey eyes of a tall hefty man, definitely not Morealon. "There will be no consideration, Mr. Potter. You will make your decision."

"I said I'll think about it," he repeated. The knife edged deeper and he consequently moved his head slightly back. The effects were that he began coughing and spluttering.

A light switched on and he discovered he was in a long blank room with four men standing watching him. Harry saw the polished, efficient, superficial Morealon smirking cunningly at him. Ron stood adjacent to the wall and Harry recognised the young sixteen year old scared boy that used to be his greatest friend. He was paler than when Harry had interviewed him and fearful doubt danced in his eyes. Harry deduced then what had gone on with Morealon Industries and Ron.

His hair was drawn back further and his eyes met the cracked ceiling. He spluttered as he tried to speak. "You…you were…using him." He laughed sadistically at the ceiling. If he could have seen Morealon's face, he would have noted how the smile had dropped completely. "When I shut down your drug empire…you opened up a new one. S…secretly though," the knife pierced his neck ever so slightly and blood trickled down onto his collar. "You…used Mr. Weasley…to get drugs on to the streets. I…I have no idea…where Ron sent the drugs though…my honest guess is he had no idea you were…were pushing drugs in the first place." He coughed painfully, his neck pulsing into the knife.

"It will not be you who will suffer death. I will kill her…it will be your fault," Morealon sneered in his direction.

"Why can't you stop him, Ron?!" Harry shouted, shutting his eyes against the increasing pain. "Did he threaten you too? With Luna's life?" Ron straightened up at this. Nobody knew about Luna except himself. "You've had a few flings, Ron, but with Luna…it's been nearly five months." Ron stammered to deny it but Harry immediately interrupted. "I've seen the credit statements! The hotels, restaurants…all the jewellery stores! You cannot deny love, am I right?"

"STOP IT!" Morealon screamed over Harry's ranting. The fist let go of Harry's tangled hair and his head dropped forward onto his chest. He was panting heavily and blood continued to ooze from his slightly grazed throat. Morealon was red-faced with unbridled fury. He strode over to Harry; his face mere centimetres from his and whispered menacingly. "Your decision has been made for you, unless you wish to watch her be tortured and killed."

He swivelled on his heel and left the room followed by another man. Harry felt something heavy connect with his head before falling unceremoniously unconscious.

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It had been three day since Harry had been carted off to face Morealon. He had been thinking furiously of what his next move was to be. In the end he resolved to do what he must in order to keep people safe. He had barely left his apartment but had met Hermione twice since that day both times, briefly in his car on the pier. He had told her minor details about the ongoing case, the less people hwo knew the better their chances would be. She notified him that Ron was equally preoccupied with work. It was just after making the final decision that he advised her that she should gather divorce papers.

"Will he sign them?" she asked sceptically as she handed them to a stressed Harry. He took the papers, flipped through them and put them under his long coat. "Yes, he will," he assured her. She was seated leisurely on the arm of the couch, watching him collecting papers and put them in his briefcase.

"Is this going to end everything?" she enquired. When he had finished and was completely prepared to leave he turned to her. Placing both hands either side of her face, he gazed deeply into her eyes. "Yes…but it will also be the beginning of everything else." He kissed her deeply and then wordlessly left the apartment, ready to end the frantic insanity of the past few days.

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The grainy beach was devoid of any souls except Harry when he arrived. He climbed gingerly out of his seat and leaned unperturbed against the bonnet of the car waiting tolerantly for his arrival. Vast clouds scudded across the bruised sky as a light wisp of wind ruffled his hair. The indolent waves lapped the shore unconvincingly defining the tranquil soothing setting.

Soon he heard sliding footsteps in the sand and swivelled around to see Ron descending the steep slope from the dunes. There was a hard expression on his face. Something was definitely troubling him and his eyes flared with ferocity. He opened his mouth to say something, most probably rude, but Harry interjected.

"So did you know about the ambush?" he asked callously.

Ron's defensive stance faltered slightly. "N..no," he stammered. "I didn't think he would take it that far."

"You should have known your business partner was a vile tyrant," Harry admonished harshly. "God knows everybody else who's done business with him knows. Ever hear of background checks, Ron?" he asked sarcastically. "You might be talented at selling product and making money but you're still naïve and ignorant when you have to reconsider its means. Stupidity is a difficult habit to shake off…"

"You slept with my wife!" Ron screamed hysterically. His face was flushed with rage and his hands were balled into fists. One of them collided with Harry's nose but fortunately it did not break. He staggered slightly but quickly regained his feet to prevent Ron punching him again. He shoved him away causing Ron to fall to the ground.

"You slept with Luna Lovegood. You cheated on your wife, sometimes with people you didn't even know. You didn't even have the decency to use cash instead of your traceable credit card," he cried back. "I know I have done wrong in my life," he breathed quietly. "But you know as well as I do that your marriage ended a long time ago."

He wiped at a droplet of blood that made its way to his top lip. His intense stare found Ron lying mournfully in the clinging sand. The dejected appearance told Harry that he would not attack him again. "Whatever you have done or whatever you have failed to do, it does not matter. What matters now is what you do to end this situation?"

"The Morealon situation?" Ron responded, getting to his feet. "What can we do against him? He has too much power in the wizarding world. He manipulates every source of money that the world has to offer."

"Did you know…when you first met him, were you aware of the drug smuggling?"

"Not at first. He informed me of a business opportunity. I foolishly decided to take him up on it. Then things got a bit strange…" He halted, briefly considering whether to continue. Then with a defeated sigh he went on. "Weasley Industries bought two thousand Galleons of stock from Morealon Industries, after that the stock was sent to one of my warehouses in Brighton. At the beginning that was all Ion told be about it. The deal was to get that stock to Brighton and put it into storage." He stopped as if remembering something then continued, this time with a more a pained expression on his face.

"I got reports from Mr. Newry, my manager over in Brighton, about groups of Morealon's men handling the goods. Then the stock vanished and I got paid by Morealon. It happened every two months. I didn't really think about it at the time. Then last month I got suspicious and I searched the goods and found…cannabis. I confronted Morealon but he had gone past the point of deliberation. He was using me and he would continue to do so." Ron shook his head with disbelief as he told his own story.

"I tried to stop but…he was persuasive to say the least. Told me he was making too much of a profit to stop. And now…with the investigation and everything else…what are we going to do?" he sighed distraughtly, rubbing his face with both his hands.

"Nothing for the moment," Harry said, composed as usual. Seeing the puzzled appearance of Ron he removed a folder from his car and handed it to him. Ron glanced at it, perplexed. "It's the case file from the investigation," Harry explained, leaning back against the car and folding his arms. "Everything is in it. From Morealon's first case to this one. In order to get Morealon out of Weasley Industries…you have to use this file against him. It has been replicated, three times, each one stored in different Gringotts vaults in three different countries. He will never find the others."

"But how do you know he won't just murder us while we sleep?!" Ron asked, slightly outraged. He noticeably recognised the risks involved but Harry knew Morealon would not attack.

"There are two others who know of the files. Morealon does not know their identities. If you show him the case file you'll have him stuck in a vice. He won't be able to move and he'll have to withdraw from your business. This is the only way you'll be able to move on," Harry clarified. "You, Ron, can decide the future of your business, not him."

"Why are you doing this?" Ron enquired doubtfully. "Why solve my problems? You could easily just forget everything. Morealon told me that you have done it before."

Harry extracted the other papers from inside his coat and held them out to Ron, along with an ornate quill. "Let her go Ron. Your marriage ended a long time ago and you know it. Keeping her in invisible binds will not resolve anything." At first Ron seemed enraged but the fire dwindled as he thought rationally of the excuse of the marriage he was in. "Ion told me about you two," he muttered quietly.

Harry remained silent, keeping his face impassive. Ron's tenacity died and he stepped forward and signed the papers. A purplish glow enveloped the paper which already had Hermione's signature on it. It burned for little over thirty seconds before the corner of the paper spontaneously caught fire. The purplish glow changed into neon blue, emerald green, ruby red and then finally a burning sapphire. The paper shriveled up tightly causing Harry to drop it to the ground where it still continued to diminish. Wizards divorce papers were considerably more fanciful than muggle ones.

As Ron watched it he gave off the impression of sadness but when he looked up at Harry there was a slim smile on his face. "She refused to marry me at first," he muttered. "I kept asking her and she just kept rejecting the offer. I always got the feeling that she was waiting for something. Or someone," he finished, staring at Harry keenly as if delaying to allow Harry time to say something. When Harry remained mute he continued. "I took advantage of the fact that she was afraid to remain alone. She gave up on you and married me."

"But she looked so happy in the wedding photographs," Harry interrupted in bewilderment as he remembered the beaming smile burned in his memory.

"Alcohol. She barely touches it since that day. She should never have agreed to it. She worked so hard in the hospital and then after a few years she sort of….accepted it. She recognized her life for what it was. She tried to build a family but I think I was afraid to start one and so spent my time at work. Luna was hired as an assistant about two years ago. I…"

"Stop," Harry interrupted. "I don't want to know anything more about your affairs. It's over between you and Hermione. So tell whoever you have to and move on. And maybe…when the time is right, she'll let you back into her life."

A slightly cold silence fell over them until Harry broke it. "Goodbye Ron."

When he had turned the key in the ignition and the engine had roared to life, Ron had disapparated.

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By the time he had reached home it was already growing dark outside. He found Hermione asleep in his sun-chair on the balcony. Folding out another chair he reclined wordlessly beside her slumbering form for near on an hour. His past was still there but it did not seem to be haunting him anymore. Of course everything was not sorted, not yet anyway. It would take time and willpower but he was absolutely convinced that one day he would live in relative peace of mind.

Hermione stirred faintly in her sleep and he moved his face closer to hers. "Hey," he whispered softly into her ear. "Hmm," she moaned shifting nearer to him, she was evidently still dozing.

"Open your eyes," he said, needing to tell her something.

"I already have. We both did," she said hoarsely with a bleary glance at him. Seeing her tired brown eyes he grinned and kissed her forehead. "I love you." She smiled groggily and soon fell into a deeper slumber than before. She must not have slept since they had slept together and the case had taken a grave turn.

With relative ease he carried her into his bedroom and laid her on her side. She quickly resumed her effortless sleep, sliding a hand under her pillow for more comfort. Harry gazed at her through the darkness appreciating every line on her immaculate skin and the way a strand of her hair lay across her face and stopped at her faintly pouted lips.

Removing her shoes and then his, he climbed up beside her and wrapped his arms protectively around her.

Whatever it was he had been experiencing for the past decade, it did not compare to this. Years of selfish torment had ended in the space of a week and still he considered it wholly unbelievable. Her tickling breath on his arm as she exhaled slowly could be deemed unreal. But the feelings he was experiencing could never be feigned. Truth was by his side and in a world that produced phony inauthentic excuses of human beings, he needed that truth, he needed that source of hope. That was what she was, he thought. His hope and his future.

Smiling to himself, he buried his head deeper into his pillow where he could still catch her intoxicating scent. Just as he drifted off to sleep, the earth breathed a sigh and the gleaming stars finally broke through the veiling clouds.

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