Chapter 49 - The Underground Greenhouse
"Sectumsempra!"
Dean made one quick slashing motion with his wand in the air and the two serpent heads flew off to the wayside. With disgust, he flung away its still writhing body the second it fell on his chest and rolled off to the side of the table just in case there were others. As he got up, he counted himself lucky that he remembered the spell in time and that it had not missed.
Kingsley and a few others were drawn back into the room by the commotion. He recounted for Kingsley what had happened as someone from forensics quarantined the snake and the small book that came from within the secret compartment.
"Good job," Kingsley complimented him on his find. "The book was a most important find."
"I can't wait to find out what's in it," Dean countered, a bit frustrated that they wouldn't be able to examine it until the morning.
"Let's call it a day," his boss suggested.
He couldn't agree more. A close call with a two headed snake was a fitting end to his first full day as a temporary Auror. As they made their way to the door leading into the main potion lab, they heard horrified skin curling shrieks from somewhere really close by.
Dean broke into a sprint towards the direction of the cry drawing his wand as he ran. Past the door he instantly saw that off to the side of the potion ingredients pantry was a gap that wasn't there previously and the screams were coming from within it.
Being the younger, more athletic and least experienced (or more foolish) of the lot, he got to the opening first, entering the dark, muggy compartment just as the screaming halted, punctuated by a dull thud on the floor. The weight of the air was stifling and the earthy smell pierced his senses. He walked further in, blindly in the dark to his right, to let the others behind him in, uncomfortable of their obvious disadvantage. He turned as he heard the last footsteps shuffle in and his eyes had adjusted enough to see several human figures lined up neatly as if facing a firing squad.
Swoosh!
He saw a shadow of a movement come from his right and on instinct, he ducked, feeling the air above him disturbed. A few of them lit their wands almost at the same time, each frozen momentarily by the sight before them. It was a seven-foot potted plant with several long branches waving at them like arms with hands saying 'hello'.
"Watch out!" someone yelled out.
Swoosh!
Wand lights scattered and extinguished as everyone dove for cover to avoid the attack of its whip-like branches. Intermittent flashes of curses illuminated the giant green monster. He guessed the spell to subdue something like it was not in any of the Ministry issue Auror manuals.
Dean sent a Stunner towards it and it whimpered as it was hit squarely in the body. The spell did not do much except incur its wrath even further. He felt a couple of its branches take a hold of his legs, lift him and coil tightly around his body. On his way up, he caught a glimpse of the lifeless body of one of the techies on the floor, what was left of his head turned in an unnatural position.
Panic was good. With desperation, he hacked away with his wand using the same curse of Snape's that killed the snake. The plant wailed and its grip loosened. He fell back on the floor which was now wet from the sticky liquid that squirted from the cut branches.
Someone had found a switch that opened a retractable ceiling, exposing a glass roof that allowed moonlight in. The scene was a revelation. They were in an underground greenhouse filled with weird plants he had never seen before, herbology experiments gone badly, most of them seemingly docile compared to the one who thought he was midnight snack. His attacker was hopefully dead, if not severely incapacitated. Rouge fluid continued to ooze from its injured parts.
"Odd color for plant sap," Dean said dryly.
"Odd indeed," Kingsley replied, helping him up.
Dean had some of the thick, sticky stuff on his arms and he tried to shake it off. The red sap looked, smelled, felt and tasted like blood.
XXXXXXXXXX
Harry got out of the house as quickly as his feet could take him, his calm exterior barely able to hold back the brewing hurricane that was trapped within. He had to get out. He had to get away from the ghost before he found a way to kill him and from Hermione who was, little by little, doing him in. He walked down and off the path, pacing in a random pattern in front of the house, unmindful of melting snow and ice around him as he did.
Hermione knew he was Roy all along and while he heard her say why she didn't tell him, he couldn't get past asking himself what all that he went through this past year was for. At any time she could have chosen to tell the truth but she didn't.
The fact that she knew explained a lot of things that bothered him about those last few days leading up to Ron's death. He just did not expect that she knew that night at St. Mungo's, especially not after she stopped talking to him. It didn't make sense, even with Ron's explanation and it didn't help that she was holding back. It was understandable that she did not want to provoke the ghost further. But there was something she mentioned that riled him; what was it that he said that made her conclude that what they had was not going to last?
Admittedly, his beef about not being confronted with the truth was childish and he was embarrassed for even bringing it up. How could he be upset about that when he pretty much did the same thing? He recognized the hypocrisy, realizing it was borne out of frustration that she chose to keep silent even after Ron died, even after he confessed, and instead, led him to believe that the reason they weren't friends anymore was entirely his doing. While she never actually blamed him, the fact that she never said anything to contradict his erroneous assumption irked him.
I just wanted you to stay away.
She couldn't look at him and not see Ron, she said. He could understand the guilt but could not understand her unwillingness to face it with him. He also could not understand her decision not to tell him about it at all. That would have at least given him some peace of mind and more hope that things between them would get better. All their lives Hermione confronted every difficult thing head on, never shying away from anything. But here, she avoided him and shut him out.
Harry realized that Ron's explanation to what happened was meant to provoke him and to incite him to do something foolish. But she just stood there and silently admitted each point Ron made. She wanted it that way, not meaning for it to go any further than that. It was what it was meant to be, a one time thing with Roy and a one time thing with him. Inasmuch as he knew Ron was trying to push buttons, he could not help but feel inadequate. Ron's jibe about him having nothing much to offer for her to want to be with him hit a sore point and he had not felt insecure like this in a very long time.
If she really cared about you she would have said something.
As glaringly logical as that thought was he was weary speculating and preferred not to. Harry was glad he had spent time with her today. Had he not, he would not have anything tangible to support his gut feeling and boost his confidence. Because of today it was conceivable to him that while what Ron pointed out may have been true before, things may have changed. She cared about him and he just had to find out from her how much.
Right now, she needed space to see Ron and he would give her that, but he had every intention of talking with her after. This had dragged on much longer than it should have. And unlike last year when he decided to wait until after Ron's Quidditch match, this time he would not wait for Ron's problem to be resolved.
The moon peeped out from behind a cloud exposing the well-thawed out area around him and broke his introspection. The pacing helped somewhat with the temper and with sorting out the rigmarole of emotions that came with finding out what he just did. It was only then that he felt the chill in the air and donned his coat on.
Forcing himself to think about work, he scanned the area and found it secure. She was still the only living person inside the house. He looked at his watch and thought about how much time was reasonable to give them. Then, remembering Ron's parting shot, he wasn't feeling particularly generous.
Five minutes was plenty and, from his estimation, their time was up.
XXXXXXXXX
A few minutes earlier, Ron asked Hermione a tough question and she had to weigh her options. She was standing beside the fireplace, her back to it, as the glow of its flames fell on his transparent, hovering body. Ron was watching her.
You said you weren't going to lie anymore.
If you don't lie, you'll risk him lingering forever. That seems like a steep price to pay just to tell the truth.
Any avoidance or delay would make the answer obvious and if she were to lie convincingly, she had to lie now.
"I still do," she heard herself say.
It was more a surprise to her than to him.
"He wants to be with you, too. So, what seems to be the problem?" Ron asked without the vileness he had mere moments before, surprising her even more.
Her furrowed eyebrows and frown prompted Ron to add, "Look. You obviously need to talk with someone about this. Talk, I'm listening."
Ron was the last person she expected to have this conversation with about Harry. He was a ghost, her former fiancé, the man they betrayed. The sudden shift in his attitude from harshly cruel to pleasantly supportive was also quite disturbing. This was weird on so many levels.
"But what about transitioning..."
"I have a few days, you two have less than that to either make it work or totally screw it up like you did the last time. What will it be?"
"You're okay with this?" she asked, still unclear where he stood, especially after the royal treatment he gave Harry.
"I'm dead. I don't really care one way or the other."
"If you don't care then why are you helping?"
"I'm not helping," he denied, motioning her over to sit on the couch with him, "I'm just making conversation."
Ron was never a good liar. Caught totally off guard by his offer, she took it, joining him, hoping he could help. She didn't know where to begin, or how to. Ron patiently waited as they sat beside each other staring at the cinders in the fireplace.
Finally, she turned slightly and said, "I hear your voice whenever I think about him."
He thought about it for a moment before responding.
"Am I nasty?"
"Quite a bit. Disapproving, to say the least."
"You know it's not really me, right?"
"I know."
It was her guilt with his voice and his face.
"Tried everything to make it go away?"
"Pretty much, except confess I'm having auditory hallucinations. It's not something a sane Healer should have."
Ron nodded, "Has anything worked?"
"Dreamless draught to stop the nightmares."
"Bummer that only works for when you sleep."
He paused again, waiting for her to continue.
"I wanted him to move on. It would have been better if he treated me just like one of his girlfriends."
"But you're not," he pointed out. "Do you think he loves you?"
"He says he does and sometimes I think he does, then I remember last year and I get a reality check," she said to him honestly. "But even if he did, I still can't see how we can be happy."
"Bad taste from the last time, huh?"
"I'd be betraying you over and over again. Before I saw him today, I swore never to do that."
"You were going to give it another try," Ron guessed.
She nodded. Her face warmed up as the admission embarrassed her. Guilt followed and then the tears came. Ron continued to listen, concerned.
"I was going to tell him the truth. I wanted to see where that would take us. I miss him so much I don't care about the voice anymore…" her words trailed off as she sobbed, her hands covering her face from shame, thinking how hurtful it was going to be for Ron to hear.
"Ssshhh…" Ron tried to comfort her, feeling his cool arm around her shoulder.
"I'm sorry…" she managed to say coherently.
"What for?"
She straightened out and explained to him, "For wanting this…I can't stay away, not when he says he wants it, too."
"There's nothing wrong with wanting to be happy, Hermione."
"I'm a horrible person."
"It's okay to be happy with someone else. That does not make you a horrible person."
"It does if that someone is Harry."
"No, it doesn't."
"How can it not be? I cheated on you with him."
"But I'm dead, so you won't be doing that anymore. Get over the past. We all make mistakes."
She followed his logic, it made sense but her guilt listened to neither.
"You died because of what I did."
"No, I died because I lost my broomstick and fell."
"You were upset. I broke off our engagement."
"I was disappointed, I don't deny that. But I asked you and you did what you had to do. You had no choice."
"I could have lied."
"I would have known. That would have been worse. Luv, never regret being honest."
"What did you mean when you said you would do what Harry did?"
Without batting an eyelash he replied, "That I would be a hero and do something extraordinary."
"Like how you played in the game?"
"It was heroic, don't you think so? Down by so much and we rallied to win the Cup."
"Yes, it was," Hermione felt some relief from his answer, "I never got to say this but it was the best game I'd seen you play. I was very proud of you."
"Considering that you just broke up with me, the inspired performance was to make you feel bad that you did," Ron was teasing but there was some truth to what he just said. "I gather that didn't work."
"I wasn't choosing him over you."
"I know that. I just feel better thinking that you did. Leave the ghost with the delusion that you said 'no' because there was someone else, will you? It's better for my ego."
They both smiled weakly.
"How would your ego take it if I end up with Harry?"
"Vindicated and pissed off at the same time," he answered truthfully. "Do you want to know what I think?"
Ron had this seriousness she rarely saw him with she let him continue.
"If what happened between us had nothing to do with him, then this thing between you and Harry should have nothing to do with me."
Ron lifted his brows, daring her to retract her insistence that Harry had nothing to do with her decision to break up with him. She said nothing, choosing not to argue that while it sounded good, she did not agree.
"I hope seeing me tonight hasn't made you change your mind about telling him everything. You should give it a try and see where it takes you. Just tell the voice to go away," he added.
"The voice doesn't listen, Ron."
"I'm not surprised that it's as stubborn as you," he chuckled and then suggested, "Figure out a way to make it and if it still doesn't, live with it. Unless you don't think Harry is worth it. Unless you don't think he loves you."
"He did fail the test. He walked out."
Ron rolled his eyes up, and he lectured her, "You're not supposed to judge him that quickly; that's my job as the resentful ex-boyfriend. He just needed a breather. He'll be back."
Hermione hoped he was right. But for someone who had been deliberately mean towards Harry all night he sure was speaking up in Harry's defense. She had to ask him.
"Why are you doing this?"
He answered sincerely, "Because I shouldn't have died that night. Had I lived he would have asked you to make a choice and we both know what your answer would have been."
They were interrupted by the sound of someone coming in through the front entrance. She instantly recognized his footsteps.
"I told you so," Ron said to her.
"Do me a favor. Ease up on him, okay?"
"No way," Ron protested, "I'm bitter, totally jealous. And it's way too much fun to give up, even for you."
Ron floated over to greet Harry as he entered.
"Back for more?" Ron sneered, "We were just talking about you."
Harry was all business.
"Do you need more time with him?" he asked her.
Ron answered, "We're done, for now."
"I was asking her," he was waiting for her reply, not breaking the icy contact.
"I was asking her," Ron mimicked.
Harry's eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened at Ron's continued mockery.
"We'll come back tomorrow," she replied quickly, right after.
"We'll see how tomorrow goes," Harry knew not to promise anything.
"We'll see how tomorrow goes," Ron repeated after him again. "What do you mean you'll see how tomorrow goes?"
"We're in the middle of an important case," she tried to explain.
"You two are putting me second to some case?! What? Not feeling too guilty anymore?! Should I remind you two what..."
Ron suddenly lost his voice at the same time a flash of orange light hit him. Hermione could not believe her eyes. Ron did deserve it but did Harry just hex him?
She saw Harry put his wand away and they both watched Ron gesticulate and mouth obscenities. The frustration Harry wore was replaced with amused satisfaction.
"He's mad at you," Hermione stated the obvious as she walked closer and stood beside him, wondering what she should do.
"If you'd rather listen to the rest of his vindictive rant..."
Not really. She had enough of that the past year.
"I have to admit his silence is refreshing," she replied, hoping Ron couldn't hear her as his mouth continued to move soundlessly in objection, "What did you hit him with?"
"Silencio sidhe. Ian mentioned the spell over dinner."
"To quiet down distraught banshees. It's interesting that it works on ghosts. 'Sidhe' means fairy," she said needless facts rapidly, as she usually did when she was nervous.
He laughed and when she realized why, she joined him. Ron furiously demanded what it was they were laughing about.
"You have to show me how to work that spell sometime."
It was an olive branch. So, she had to fake not knowing a spell. He would see through that.
He nodded, "Maybe after we sort things out."
After. Good. Hermione was relieved. She could tell he was relieved too. Leaving was foremost on her mind and she was about to suggest it when Ron got in between them, angrily asking Harry to lift the hex.
Harry reluctantly did so at her request.
Immediately after, Ron pointed his finger at Harry and put his regained voice to good use, "Don't you ever do that again!"
"Or what?" Harry matched Ron's fury with calm indifference.
"Or nothing," Ron backed down, irritated, "Just don't, okay?"
"Stop being obnoxious, then."
"Be thankful I can't use a wand," Ron muttered mostly to himself.
It was then that a poltergeist came into the room and said to Ron, "We're going in five."
Ron nodded.
"I have to go," he said to them as his housemate left.
Harry stopped him, "Wait, I need to ask you a few questions."
Right. In her haste to talk with Harry, she had forgotten all about the Squib. She and Ron had skirted the topic of his death and she thought surely, Ron would have told her then if he was murdered.
"Go ahead. But I hope you don't expect me to answer," Ron was still sore at Harry.
"Do you know a Tom Floyd?" Hermione asked Ron for them.
"Tom Floyd…Tom Floyd…Tom Floyd…nope…not that I recall."
"He's a tall man with black, greasy hair."
Ron shook his head, "I don't know him. Why do you ask?"
She let Harry ask the next one, not having the courage to do so.
"How did you die, Ron?"
Once again, Ron's personality shifted, this time to a more amicable and chatty persona.
"Ungainly, if I remember right. Really, falling from a great height to one's death is not very pleasing to the eyes."
That wasn't exactly the answer they were looking for. Harry tried again.
"What's the last thing that you remember before dying?"
"The team was celebrating the win and we were way up in the air. I remember sitting back on my broomstick, taking in the magnificent view of orange and green fireworks painting the sky, as I listened to the multitude of fans chanting my name…Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!"
Ron was never this descriptive.
"And that was the last thing you remember?" she redirected.
"Yeah. I blacked out and then I was dead."
"Did you notice anyone who wasn't supposed to be there," Harry continued.
"The stadium was packed. Gee, let me think hard…"
It was her turn, "Was someone else up there with you when you fell?"
"The rest of the team, and I suppose there were some fans. I can't be sure. Why do you want to know?"
"Did someone cause you to fall?"
"Are you suggesting that it wasn't an accident?!" asked a genuinely horrified Ron.
"Was it or wasn't it?"
"Everyone keeps telling me it was an accident! Now you're telling me I was murdered! This is bad!"
"Calm down, Ron. We're not saying you were murdered," Hermione intervened, sharing with Harry the same puzzled look he had on his face, probably wondering as she was, how could Ron not know. The ghost was zooming at a nauseating speed to and fro bouncing off walls like a pinball.
"But it's a big possibility and probably the reason why I can't move on! My murderer is still out there!"
"You may not have a murderer. It could have been just that, an accident," she added, trying to calm Ron down.
"Do you remember anything at all that will help us find out for sure?" Harry asked.
"No, not really."
Another ghostly figure suddenly appeared through the wall behind the fireplace and asked, "Ron, are you coming?"
"Of course, I am. Tell them to wait a sec," he replied and the other imprint dissolved back beyond the fire, "I really have to go."
"Where are you going?"
Hermione was bewildered at the sudden change from panicked possible murder victim to totally apathetic fun loving phantom, and at the decision not to stay.
"We have a pass to go out tonight. Can't miss that."
"What about moving on?! What about finding out how you died?! Priorities Ron!"
"It's clear to me what's holding me back. You have less than two weeks to find my murderer if I have one, or at least find out how I died. If you do, great. If not, then I might spend eternity as a ghost. I'm sure between you and Harry, you can figure this out in time. I trust you, honey. And those Keeper gloves Mum wants to donate to Hogwarts, my man Pfaff is holding them for me. Harry knows him. Harry can track him down; he lives in Toronto now. Harry, just be sure you wipe those secret Cannon plays from it before handing them to Professor McGonagall."
"Secret plays?" Harry didn't know what he was talking about.
"You know, the ones I had to write down during our rookie year," Ron reminded him then assumed Harry would remember, went on to the next thought, "And if you both can, drop by the courthouses tomorrow afternoon. It'll be nice to have a few non-ghost supporters during the hearing."
In a rush, Ron disappeared through the same wall the other ghost did.
"What hearing?!"
His head popped back and he reminded her, "Remember, this has nothing to do with me so tell me, the voice, to fuck off."
"Weasley! Are you coming?" a voice from beyond called out.
"Keep your knickers on!" he yelled back, then complained to them "For the amount of time we have on our hands, you'd think we'd all have a little more patience. Listen Harry, my best bud, my pal…"
"Yes?"
"About sorting things out with her, there's this question you should ask her to answer honestly no matter what."
Ron was giving Harry advice?
"What are you up to?" she asked Ron, more a warning than a question.
Harry was suspicious as he should be.
Ron looked at her and said to Harry, "Ask her who you are to her. I didn't like her answer much but I'm betting you will."
It immediately dawned on her what that meant. Ron smiled at her and disappeared again. She called out after him.
"Ronald Weasley! You get back here right this instant!"
Ron didn't answer. He was gone.
A/N. How did you find the Ron-Hermione talk? How did you find Ron?
Good for those who knew about Roy Ron.
Ron's death - I know I'm bad. So, was he murdered or wasn't he? Do you think he really doesn't know how he died? If he does, then why is he not telling them?