Grace Aux Malfoys
Standard Disclaimer: As always, none of the characters you recognize came from me; I just borrowed them from their owner to play around with a bit. They are rightfully the property of Dame JK Rowling, her publishers, the movie companies, and whoever holds the stocks of those companies.
As before, I am extremely grateful to the people behind the Khemorex Klinzhai! Website for their extremely enjoyable and very useful Klingon dictionary.
To all who have read, left reviews and marked this for alerts or as favourites, my deepest thanks.
Chapter 9.
Anteroom off the Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Ragnok sat down heavily in his chair, clearly gathering his thoughts. "How much do you know of the Goblin Nation, Lord Potter?"
Harry blinked; the question was unexpected. His response was hesitant; he may have read a lot during the past year but still - "Not much really, Clan Chief. I … well, never really gave it much thought until recently."
Ragnok nodded. "No doubt your impression of the Nation is that of a single, purposeful entity, attuned to war and bloodshed, chaffing under the `enlightened' views of the wizards and constantly seeking a way to get away from your control?"
Harry shrugged in reply, his face impassive. Ragnok continued. "The truth is, the Nation is divided. Many clans," his gesture clearly indicating those in the room with him, "have long realized that not all wizards or witches look down on us or treat us with contempt. These witches and wizards are, in the main, half-bloods with ties to the muggle world or First Generation muggle-born … in other words, those who have not been exposed or with limited experience with the inbred bigotry of many `pureblood' families.
"Over the years, our clans have built successful business relationships and personal friendships with a selected few and their families. Money, after all, has no borders and we would be remiss if we allowed opportunities to slip by without doing our best to gain some of it." He paused and shook his head. "We've had to keep these relationships very discreet, however, for fear they would be harassed, either by wizards who want no one to do business with us beyond what the treaties provide and those in our world who feel the same way.
He paused before continuing thoughtfully, "Of course there are those who resent those alliances, being envious of the wealth that we brought to the Nation and our clans …"
His face darkened. "Those who resent us have found alliance and a willing ear among those who would have nothing to do with you or the muggles. To the minds of the bigoted, inward-looking baktag, the Nation has lost its pride, becoming nothing more than clerks and servile t'gla, totally unbecoming of the `glorious history' (he rolled his eyes) of the Goblin Nation. That we were almost wiped out in the wars of attrition with your kind is conveniently forgotten - they choose to remember old wounds, to keep alive past conflicts and slurs, constantly picking at the scabs in an effort to keep old hurts fresh.
"The Sword, for example," he said, nodding at Hermione's bag. "They call it the `Lost' Sword of the Nation, holding it up as an icon and symbol of all that is wrong in our world: lost through a wizard's treachery, a relic that we `allow' to remain lost, willing as we are to roll over and present our backsides to the wizards who control our world."
Ironclaw spoke up from his seat beside his leader, "They are a small but vocal group of malcontents, but their numbers were never high, especially as the Nation has grown prosperous and content with its business and financial dealings. Of course," he grimaced, "having those hotheads around virtually guarantees continuing tensions with your world."
Ragnok nodded. "The Nation would have healed were it not for the stupidity and pig-headedness of your leaders. Your government has constantly insulted and disrespected the Nation; this has found fertile ground among those who continue feeding on old wounds." He broke off to stare at Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was seated behind Harry.
"Tell me, Minister Shacklebolt, how would you view a government whose dealings with you are through the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures? How would you react to a government who sees you as beasts that need to be `regulated' rather than sentient beings that deserve respect and friendship?"
There was no reply - there could be no answer. Even Shacklebolt - loyal Ministry worker that he was - had never really thought of it that way. Ragnok had a point - the wizarding world entrusted the goblins with their monies, so why should they be dealt with as `creatures'?
The reason was simple, of course. Treat them as `beasts,' think of them as `creatures' and it is easier to do anything you want to them - deny them their rights, impose any restrictions, handle them with contempt … they are only creatures, after all.
Shacklebolt shook his head. True, he had never been in a position to make such changes before … But he could now. First thing, he thought, transfer Percy and Goblin Liaison to International Magical Cooperation - the goblins were a `nation' after all, right? After that … let's see what Percy can come up with.
He shifted his attention back to Ragnok who was talking, "It is the transgressions of those in power which kept the clique opposing us alive - stoking their anger, feeding their hatreds, awaiting an opportunity to vent their frustrations. And then circumstances arose that gave them an opening …"
"Voldemort," Hermione said.
The goblin leader nodded. "Indeed, Lady-Miss Granger. When Voldemort exposed himself in '96, we knew that war would soon be joined, and the Nation would be called to take a stand with one side or the other."
He grimaced. "Not an ideal situation for us. On the one hand, there was that traitorous p'takh that never showed respect and caused the death of several families over the years. On the other was the qoH Fudge and his Ministry Qovpatlh who had never been friends to the Nation.
"But Professor Dumbledore…" Harry stopped at Ragnok's impatient gesture.
"The Clans never considered Dumbledore as friend or potential ally. He's held the highest positions in your government from where he could exert considerable influence and yet he's done nothing to temper the hatreds. Despite representations made for Bagman's arrest and trial under goblin law, he never lifted a finger to assist us."
"But that was during the Tri-Wizard …" Harry stopped as Hermione squeezed his hand and he nodded. They'd discussed this before: Dumbledore was the head of the Wizengamot - so why should he spend more time `overseeing' the tournament rather than settling a dispute between the Goblin Nation and one lowly wizard - one who had gypped other wizards, including the Twins, Dean's father and others?
And it wasn't as if Bagman was an indispensable part of the Tournament and thus deserving of the protection! Apart from the drawing of the names and the weighing of the wands, he was there only to commentate - and run his betting business on the side!
The two teens shook their heads and turned to Ragnok, who had been watching them with interest. "You see the point, then?" As the two nodded (along with, Ragnok noted, the other humans in the room), he continued, "And consider his approach to the Nation when Voldemort returned … a private initiative through his Order of the Phoenix, not his official position as Chief Warlock - in effect, it is a personal approach with none of the force of law!"
Ragnok slammed his fist on the table, making them jump. "Did he think we were fools? He wanted us on `his' side but without the backing of the government …what would happen to the Nation if he lost? We would be left hanging when Voldemort took over! Why take his side, why play his games … why fight for his `ideals' which the government he led never even shared?"
His eyes impaled McGonagall who looked ready to protest, "Please don't speak of how powerless the position of Chief Warlock was, Headmistress … if that were true, why hold on to his positions? Why cling to something with no power or influence, claiming all the while there was `nothing he could do' while Malfoy and his ilk bribed and threatened to achieve their goals? If Dumbledore needed gold to counter Malfoy and his poisons, the Nation was more than willing to help!
"But no! The great Albus Dumbledore would never stoop so low …if all he wanted was to keep his hands clean, he should have resigned his position and openly take a stand rather than play games!"
McGonagall's lips were set in a thin line as she stared at the goblin leader - but bowed her head in defeat. She may have worked with Dumbledore the longest, but admitted that Ragnok had a point. She remembered Harry's horrendous fifth year when Dumbledore did nothing and kept silent, claiming `his hands were tied' the whole time - but still finding time to play games with `his' Order and taking action only when forced to by circumstances.
And that did not even include whatever he did to hide Harry's inheritance and position in their world from them!
She shook her head. She, like so many others, had placed their blind faith in Dumbledore only to realize that the "Leader of the Light' had feet of clay and blinders to boot … and never trusted them the way they trusted him.
Ragnok composed himself. "Is it any wonder then that the Nation chose to stay out of your war? Much as we hated Voldemort and his ilk, there was little to admire in either the Ministry or Dumbledore! There was only one option for us: to follow our obligations to the letter and provide no more and no less than the services mandated by treaty."
He paused, his gaze seemingly in the distance as he whispered, "What we didn't realize was that we were going to be faced with a dilemma … one with consequences we could not have foreseen."
It was Reena who spoke next. She had silently walked to stand beside her husband, her hand on his shoulder and the others noticed that Ragnok's fingers were intertwined with hers.
"We seriously underestimated Voldemort's insanity, Lord Potter," she said. "We assumed that by staying neutral, we would be left alone to do what we will," she shook her head in dismay, "Including maintaining our friendships and alliances with families who had access to the muggle world. How were we to know that he would target and go after them - the information provided by traitorous t'ooho'mIrah out of their envy and spite!"
Hermione blurted, "Natalie McDonald?" The consort nodded. Turning to the others, Hermione explained, "Natalie's father is a stockbroker … what better `contact' in the muggle world would Gringotts need than him?"
Reena smiled. "To say nothing of the fact that young Natalie is also a most engaging person." The teens and the teachers nodded, remembering the vivacious and friendly witch. "It was Curse Breaker Weasley - no doubt acting on information from his father - who alerted us to Voldemort's plans; we had mere hours to act and we did our best…"
"We could not allow them to be taken," said Ironclaw. "They had been of great help and conducted all dealings with honour, respect and profit … we could not stand aside, our honour dictated no less. Fortunately, the Council agreed with us … we ventured into your world and made contact, offering shelter with our families and asylum within the Nation. We were able to save some but others …"
He shook his head; the humans in the room nodded. Hermione, especially, was shivering as she remembered her encounter with the Muggle-Born Registration Committee. She looked up as Ragnok sighed. "It is embarrassing to say this but we realized that we never really did a head count on how many friends and business partners we've made over the years … when we had gathered everyone and did so, we found we had around thirty families … and close to two hundred people that we had granted asylum to.
"It was not a strain to us; our living areas can accommodate far more since they were built at a time when we were more numerous. Neither did their `residence' with us strain our available resources - again, there was more than enough for everyone, our friends included."
He snorted. "This, however, provided the other faction with another cause. They began harping that we had allowed `human filth' into the nation, giving them shelter, consuming our food and drink … in other words, they had another opportunity to inflame old passions and hatreds and trying to provoke them into open conflict.
"Fortunately, our friends refused to take the bait and did what they could to be useful and not be a burden to the Nation. On the other hand, the inflammatory rhetoric emboldened some idiots who did not - or could not - distinguish between those who were our friends and the Qa'Hom who were infesting the bank …"
"Griphook and Gornuk," Harry murmured.
Ragnok shook his head. "Gornuk was a simple hothead whose mouth was bigger than his brain and made a run for it when he finally insulted the wrong toDSaH. He was lucky to have fallen in with Dirk Cresswell and Ted Tonks; they helped him escape when they got ambushed. One of our rescue teams was in the area and recognized Dirk - we were moving to rescue him but had been taken already and then escaped; the rescue brought them in and we granted asylum to them."
Shacklebolt and Remus nodded; that would explain why Ted and Dirk were believed dead and why they didn't get the word out. Better safe than have Voldemort learn of the goblin's assistance, Shacklebolt thought; Remus, on the other hand, felt that his mother-in-law would eventually forgive Ted … in about a hundred years or so.
"Griphook, on the other hand …" Ragnok shook his head. "He was a leading light amongst that clique, having inherited his hatreds and resentments from his ancestors. He was most vocal against the `human filth,' didn't like our alliances with the muggle-born, and was the most aggressive in baiting Voldemort's minions. We thought it best when he fled after insulting the wrong toDSaH. Let him play his games outside while we kept the Nation safe … but he fell in with you."
"And we had the Sword," Hermione murmured.
Ragnok nodded. "Griphook saw an opportunity to retrieve it for his faction and use it as a rallying point for their long-planned assault on those they disagreed with."
Ragnok's face, eyes and voice turned icy-cold. "The `return' of the sword was what they'd been waiting for, it was a sign from the gods that their side was `right' and they would win."
"It didn't help that it happened after your … `adventure'," Ironclaw added, "which diverted our attention. The miserable taHqeq and his people attacked the following day - striking at the Council in their offices while the jackals fell on the families in their homes and other places ..."
"The day after?" Harry interrupted him. "Oh Merlin," he breathed, "we were at Hogwarts … Voldemort attacked…"
"While we were fighting for our lives down below," Ragnok nodded. "Their attack was swift and brutal and caught us unawares. If it were not for your friends who all say that you had taught them magical defence …"
"Young Natalie was babysitting my youngest while I was out," Reena interrupted her consort. "They thought they would be unopposed but what they found was a young witch who fought like a lioness, stunning three of them before the fight turned lethal …" A pained expression crossed her face. "Natalie found herself in a kill or be killed situation but she still fought back. I am so, so sorry that it had to happen to one so young but Natalie was able to save my child, and for that I am forever in her debt."
"A group of the maghwl attacked the hospital," a grim Ironclaw growled, "headed for the maternity wing where my youngest daughter was in labour …Ted Tonks and Dirk Creswell were there for an examination and stopped them in time. Ted was wounded; Dirk was killed before help arrived."
He stood and met Remus Lupin's eyes. "My family owes the Tonks the life of my grandson. For that I am grateful beyond measure and extend my family's friendship to yours."
A flustered Remus was on his feet and bowing in acceptance, even as Ragnok stood, "Others here have much the same tale to tell; if we allow them all to do so, we will be here for hours yet. Suffice it to say that the Nation owes Natalie and the others a debt, Lord Potter, and by extension, we owe you the same. The training you provided gave them the means to help us; at the very least, they were able to hold off the enemy, protecting both their families and ours until help arrived and for that the Nation will be ever grateful to them and to you."
Harry nodded, torn between pride in his friends and sickened that Natalie had been exposed to war and its horrors at such a young age. He felt Hermione squeezing his hand and he squeezed back, reassured. At the very least, he thought, Natalie was alive … he looked up at a snicker from Ragnok.
"There is one thing," the goblin leader said. "We saw the Quovpatlh Griphook was waving the Sword, running around like some great warrior-general when the sword in his hand suddenly disappeared. He continued waving his hand, urging his followers to attack while everyone looked at him as if he'd gone mad …" The grin turned feral. "The look on his face when he realized he no longer had a sword was priceless … I was able to approach and punched him, knocking him out and ending the battle."
He looked at Harry and the others, "May I ask what happened to the sword?"
McGonagall's brogue responded, "Neville Longbottom, one of my students, had need of the sword … he faced Voldemort with the Sorting Hat and, at the right time, reached into the hat and pulled it out … He was not sure if it would work but …"
She shrugged, to the snickers of the goblins. Ironclaw spoke up, "Perfect timing, in any case. It left Griphook looking like an idiot, gaping at his empty hands and his clique looking like fools … a perfect ending for a bad day."
The sombre mood in the room was broken by Shacklebolt's discreet cough. "Forgive my rudeness, Clan Chief, and thank you for the assistance you have extended to our friends. But I must ask … what has all this got to do with Lord Potter?"
The goblin chieftain blinked, his mind called back from his musings. He stared vacantly at Harry for a long moment before giving a deep sigh.
"Griphook and his band of traitorous t'ooho'mIrah could not have done the damage they did without logistics and financial support. They'd been plotting for years but have never progressed because they simply didn't have the resources for it. They needed resources, galleons to finance their clique, stockpile weapons and potions, establish safe houses for meetings …" Ragnok glanced to one side, and a goblin silently placed an ornate box similar to the one that held the Potter Ring before Ragnok. The latter opened it to reveal a similar ring to the one that now adorned Harry's hand.
"On 02 July 1995, Sirius Orion Black named Harry James Potter as Heir-Apparent of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, as witnessed by the Black Account Manager Tailhook and Assistant Account Manager Griphook. The notice was filed with the bank the same day. You were then adopted as his son via blood ritual on 25 December 1995; the information being filed with us, along with his last will and testament, on 13 January 1996."
"WHAT?" Harry's surprise was echoed by the adults; Hermione's eyes, however, narrowed into slits as her brain processed the information, coming to conclusions that roiled her stomach.
Ragnok's gravelly voice took on a strange, echoing timbre which was the only hint of a tightly leashed anger. "Griphook claims that he informed your magical guardian, Albus Dumbledore, of the terms and provisions of Lord Black's will on 08 July 1996. Dumbledore wanted the will kept silent, claiming that you already had too much on your plate … and offered Griphook access to the Black Vaults as well as to use a forged will…"
"That pathetic Qu'vatlh!" Flitwick fell from his chair at the vile Goblin curse - they were all gaping at the young witch who was standing, eyes blazing and hair seemingly floating in an unseen wind, fists clenching as she said, in a sibilant whisper redolent of danger and destruction, "The old k'pekt had NO FUCKING RIGHT TO DO THAT!"
The room rumbled in apparent agreement, causing the goblins to look around uneasily but the angry witch was not yet done: "That miserable, stinking, traitorous, ungrateful, uncouth son of a forshak! We could have used Grimmauld as a base rather than wander the friggin' countryside for an effing year … cast a new Fidelius with you or Remus as Secret Keeper … used the library to research … found the fucking locket before Fletcher stole it … we could have done so much more if the pathetic k'pekt pulled his head out of his arse and stopped playing his games! Qu'vatlh guy'cha b'aka!!"
To say that the goblins were impressed is putting it very, very mildly: Ironclaw was on the floor gaping as Hermione let loose.
The waves of magic grew intense; shocked at the waves of magic buffeting him, Harry took the only path open to him - he grabbed Hermione and placed a resounding kiss on her lips - `To Hell with it!' he thought, he deepened the kiss into a tongue-tying, teeth-cleaning, tonsil-seeking snog which held with it all the frustration, confusion and pent-up emotions that had built up in him throughout the long day.
Hermione's anger dissipated as she melted into the kiss, her raging emotions seeping away as her hands found their way to Harry's hair and the air she'd drawn in for her rant found its path out blocked by Harry's tongue.
The room's occupants covered their eyes as a brilliant gold nimbus surrounded the snogging couple. While the humans knew that they were soul-bonded, this was their first real experience of the phenomenon and they were awed.
"Maw'tok!" Ironclaw exclaimed. "They have a soul bond?"
"They do," Reena said quietly. "I could see the aura when we met them … although I have never in my life seen one as powerful. Even at rest, and the soul bond not fully mature, I was getting a headache watching them!"
"Is that why you kept stumbling over Miss Granger's name, Clan Chief?" Flitwick asked. The other humans turned to the goblin leader, who gave a wry smile and nodded.
"Yes, I could see the same thing that Reena did; luckily not at the same intensity with which she sees auras … but you know the law and protocols on that! I cannot address the Lady Potter as such until they are truly bound in law … while magic may acknowledge the bond, it has no legal meaning or force."
The humans nodded; goblins were sticklers for protocol and procedure - they had to, in order to retain their tenuous hold in a hostile world where every small infraction could be used against them. That it also provided them with a means to subtly insult and demean those who they considered uncultured snobs was left unsaid.
They didn't hear him murmur in a sibilant whisper that had his consort and Ironclaw nodding: "At least it will make things easier."
Soon enough, the light show ended as lungs desperate for air pushed the lip-locking teens apart. For a long moment they stood there, forehead to forehead, eyes closed but arms around each other - it took the others a few moments to realize that the two were blushing badly, embarrassed beyond all measure by the public display of affection in front of their teachers and other dignitaries.
Realizing this, Reena took matters into her hands, saying, "You curse well, Miss Granger. You must have Goblin blood in you!"
Hermione's muffled voice came from Harry's chest where she had burrowed her face: "Oh no, Consort Reena … just a morbid fascination with Star Trek: The Next Generation."
Her comment set off a roar of laughter from the goblins and Flitwick - compounded even more by the confused faces of Percy and Shacklebolt. Harry's eyebrows were raised as he glanced at Hermione, who gave him a look that promised explanations later and both teens turned back to Ragnok, who had finally settled in his seat, a grim expression on his face.
Without a word, the two teens resumed their seats even as the others did the same, all of them assuming serious expressions in deference to the goblin leader. Ragnok visibly centred himself before speaking, "There isn't much more to tell. Griphook's minions support his claim that an `arrangement' was made with Dumbledore, allowing the miserable p'tak to abstract galleons from the Black vault. Dumbledore thought he was catering to goblin greed, Griphook found it funny that he'd pulled the wool over the `greatest wizard in the world'."
He paused. "We have seized the personal vaults and properties of all those involved in this attempted rebellion against the Council; we will be transferring these to the Black vaults as replacement for what was taken, as well as a penalty for the transgressions and the inconvenience to you, Lord Potter."
It took Harry a minute or more to comprehend Ragnok's words; his mind was too busy parsing through the information about Dumbledore, Griphook and Sirius' inheritance to register. He had to agree with Hermione - Dumbledore's games had denied them valuable resources for the war: Grimmauld and other Black (to say nothing of Potter) properties as secure bases for training, operations and as refuge, the Black library for research … His mind flashed to Dumbledore visiting him at Privet Drive that summer after losing Sirius, his hand shrivelled and black after putting on Slytherin's ring … could that have affected that once brilliant mind? It was possible … he remembered his sixth year as a confusing time, more of what Dumbledore claimed as an effort to give him the carefree days that he'd missed growing up with the Dursleys - but shouldn't he have used the time for training?
His thoughts were cut off as Hermione's fingers dug into his hand; shaking his head he focused back on Ragnok who was saying something about compensation for Griphook using the Black fortunes for his own end … he cut the goblin off.
"Director Ragnok, would it be possible to use the money you intend to return to the Black vaults as compensation for the … err, `insult' we visited on the Nation for our robbery of the Lestrange vault? I am aware that apologies are not enough but would rather have the monies used for a better cause than just being returned to me. At the same time - and I hope that this is not taken as presumption on my part - I would like a portion of whatever monies are due me to be used to provide assistance and recompense for the goblins whose lives were affected by Griphook's … misuse of the Black Trust."
The goblin leader blinked. It was one of the items that he wished to discuss with the young Lord but had been unsure as to how to bring it up. That Lord Potter brought it up without prompting raised his esteem for the young man higher; he decided then and there that those matters could be discussed later … right now, there was something else he would have to burden the young man with.
He glanced at the young woman beside the young Lord and grinned to himself; watching their interaction had been just like watching his in-laws: the same level of deeply held affection and concern, the palpable need to be constantly in touch … that the two in front of him were soul-bonded would be helpful …
He shook himself and responded to Harry's offer formally. "The Nation thanks you for the gesture of cooperation and trust, Lord Potter. If I may, I would like to schedule a separate meeting to go over finances and inheritances in greater detail …" He paused as the young Lord glanced at his consort before nodding acceptance; the goblin leader took a deep breath before bracing himself.
"There is one other thing we need to settle."
Harry tensed and Hermione bit her lip in fear of what other anvil was heading for Harry's head, and gripped his hand tightly as Ragnok intoned, "You have twenty-four hours to find a mate and marry, Lord Potter, unless you want Draco Lucius Black Malfoy to inherit the estate as the next Lord Black."
For a long moment, Harry stared at the goblin leader before giving a single-word response: "Huh?"
***
The Hospital Wing, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Ronald Weasley blinked and sat up, his senses screaming danger even as he scrabbled around for his wand, relaxing as an ethereal voice floated into his consciousness: "Hello, Ronald."
He collapsed back into his bed; he'd seen his wand on the bedside table and swiped it, quickly hiding it under his blankets. He glanced around, realizing that his bed had been partitioned off before turning to Luna Lovegood who was looking at him with her usual dreamy expression.
"No need for that, Ronald," Luna said. "We're the only ones here; the others have been released or sent on to St. Mungo's. Madame Pomfrey's in the Great Hall - she needed a break, poor dear, so Bill, who was here earlier, set up some wards to tell her if she's needed here."
"Luna …"
"Oh, you can reach for the glass of water, Ronald. You're not seriously hurt … escaping Hermione and apparating to your mum shouldn't have drained your magic - it's less difficult than your other adventures with Harry and Hermione."
"Luna …"
"Or maybe it is," Luna said thoughtfully. "Oh! Poppy said to make sure you drank the potion there, otherwise you'd be having a terrible, terrible headache, so chug it down, Ronald!"
There was more than a grain of truth to what Luna said - Ron couldn't be sure if the pounding between his ears was due to Luna's prattling or the headache Madam Pomfrey was warning about. With a wince and a resigned air, Ron sat up (Luna placing pillows at his back) as he grabbed the vial of a sickly yellow potion.
Nodding gratefully, he pinched his nose and tossed the potion down, letting go a sigh as the pounding eased. He cocked an eye at the young witch who was, once again, staring at him intently with her slightly protuberant blue eyes.
It didn't take him long to start twitching under that steady gaze. "What are you doing here, Luna? I mean, I appreciate it and all ..."
The blonde witch blinked as if her mind had been elsewhere, her staring at Ron notwithstanding. She visibly gathered herself before answering: "I'll be leaving after the feast tonight, Ronald. The Aurors found my poor father in Azkaban and brought him to St. Mungo's so I'll be staying there for a bit."
"Poor father? Traitorous bastard," he mumbled (and missing Luna's wince at his words) and then visibly brightened at a word he recognized, "Feast? There's a feast …"
"I suggest you stay here, Ronald." He started to protest but stopped at her gesture. "After what happened this morning, I somehow doubt that Hermione'll be in the mood to see you tonight ... if ever. A house elf will bring you dinner later."
"What are you talking about," Ron said, defensively.
"Your `wedding'?" He gaped at Luna as she continued, "Really, Ronald. You all but announced in the Great Hall that the `wedding' the Prophet reported was a sham. True, only your family and some professors were there but you know how the walls have ears: human, ghost and Extendible ..."
He slumped against the pillows, face red from embarrassment as the memories flooded his mind: an enraged Hermione stalking him, death in her eyes; escaping her only to land naked as the day he was born in the Great Hall, which triggered a major wand battle; cringing at Fleur's dulcet tones proclaiming, "he ees a leetle boy…;" trying to hex the Twins who he knew had pranked him and …
Nothing.
Try as he might, he couldn't remember anything from that point … Luna watched him closely; Poppy had warned them that Ronald may suffer some memory loss. Ginny's stunner was overpowered from her emotional turmoil … that and no one had realized that he'd slammed his head on the table, hard, when he'd `slumped' when Ginny's stunner hit him. His next words would tell the tale of what he did remember …
"What are you doing here, Luna?" he asked tiredly. He couldn't remember anything from that point on and so, just decided to go with the flow. He was disoriented and disconcerted from Luna's steady gaze; Luna could pick up nothing but straightforward confusion from him and knew that he truly did not remember anything.
And that gave her the chance to clarify some things before she left the school. "I wanted to ask you something before I left, Ronald … I need to know something before I take up my life and move on and grow up …"
"Oh?" He stared out the window, mourning about the feast and the missed opportunity to stand tall and proud, basking in the adulation of the wizarding population -
"Were you using love potions on Hermione Granger?"
He spun around so fast that he heard his spine crack, felt the blood rushing into his face as he stared at her bug-eyed for a second before roaring, "ARE YOU NUTS?! WHY SHOULD I USE A LOVE POTION ON THAT BUSHY-HAIRED, KNOW-IT-ALL MANIAC? I WOULD BE DRAWN AND QUARTERED IF SHE EVER FINDS OUT I TRIED SOMETHING LIKE THAT!"
He huffed to himself as he slumped against his pillows, "I may be dumb, Luna, but I'm not stupid!"
He didn't see the wisp of a smile on Luna's lips as the blonde glanced to one side in triumph, only for Luna's neck bones to nearly snap as she spun around at his whispered words: "Lavender, on the other hand …"
"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!?"
Ron gasped - did he just say what he thought he said? One look at Luna's steely, steady eyes was all the answer he needed. He gulped, trying to moisten his throat but before he could utter a word, Luna's harsh voice shattered the air: "The truth, Ronald!"
They locked eyes for a moment before he shrugged and turned away, staring out the window, as he said in a voice barely above a whisper, "I didn't want to … Merlin knows I didn't want to … but what was I to do?
"Everyone had someone - Harry had Cho; Hermione had Krum; Ginny was with Dean, and had Michael Corner and Neville before that … Seamus was boasting about some girl or other every week … Merlin's balls! Even Neville was spending time with Hannah Abbot!
"And Ron? Poor, pathetic Ron with the emotional range of a teaspoon? Who did he have? Who would even chance a look at poor Ron? You don't know what it's like, Loony … every one looking at you and laughing behind your back, people knowing who you are only because you're Harry Potter's best friend!"
He didn't see Luna rolling her eyes at his rant - she, Loony Lovegood, not knowing what it was like? At least he had friends, the daft idiot - and bit her lip to stop herself launching into her own tirade.
She'd had enough of self-pity, she reminded herself - enough of pondering the `what ifs' in her life. What if Ronald noticed her rather than focusing on his friendship with Harry … what if she'd tried to get closer to Harry or Neville after the DOM rather than falling back into her `loony' persona …
"Dad had some potions in his shed," Ron rambled on. "Things that he'd captured in some raid or other … he showed them to me that summer after we went to the DOM … telling me what they were and what they were for … How was he to know that Slughorn would be teaching us about Amortentia last year?
"Mum used them on him, he said." Luna gasped but Ron continued, oblivious. "Not that he minded too much; she admitted it, soon after they started dating … told him that she knew he was too shy to make a move so she did … I was shocked but he said no harm done - Mum was right, after all he'd never have had the courage to make the first move … funny thing that - he was in Gryffindor but he always said Mum had courage enough for the both of them …"
"And you thought you could do the same thing to Lavender?"
"Why not?" He spat at her, as he turned to meet her eyes. "It was all in fun … nothing serious about it … how else was I going to get a chance at a snog with someone? Lav didn't mind ..."
"Are you saying Lavender knew?"
Ron smirked. "She knew … I told her about it. She didn't have any problems with it."
He shrugged as she gaped at him. "Turns out she had some … feelings for me but didn't know how to let me know, clueless git that I was. So it was all to the good … we had fun, snogged quite a bit …"
"Why did you break up with her, then?"
"I didn't want her, all right? She had feelings for me … I never did! I wanted someone else …"
"Hermione."
"Are ye daft, woman?" Luna blinked at the raw anger that Ron displayed. "Who would want to have that bossy, bushy-haired, muggle-born bookworm?" The words rocked Luna back in her seat and she stared at Ron as if she'd finally come face to face with a Crumple-Horned Snorkack. "Besides, have you seen her outside her robes? All straight lines, no curves to hold on to ... now, Bones - despite her name - is all woman..."
Luna heard someone gasp but stopped herself from turning, focused as she was on a Ronald Bilius Weasley that she had never seen or heard before, lost in his verbal painting of Susan Bones' "womanly" charms …
She cut him off. "So why didn't you, Ronald?" At his confused look, she clarified, "Make a move on Susan? You knew what you wanted; you'd already broken up with Lavender..."
"Vane," Ron spat. "The stupid bint! She ruined everything! If she hadn't given Harry those cakes ... if I hadn't been laid up in here for weeks ... things would have worked out." He let out an angry breath. "I was planning to break up with Lav anyway but after that and drinking Slughorn's poisoned mead? There was no chance to do anything right!"
Luna moved away from the ranting redhead - shaking her head as his aborted plans unfolded like a well-planned, calculated chess game. He'd noticed that his sister was close friends with the buxom Hufflepuff and planned to ask Ginny to introduce them; he'd use their almost similar experiences in disastrous Apparitions to ask Susan to `tutor' him; eventually, he'd use this as an excuse to break up with Lavender so that he could `concentrate' full time on Susan ... but Vane's abortive dosing of Harry had thrown his plans into a loop.
He decided to bide his time - it wasn't as if there would be no chance or opportunity in the coming year ... and then Dumbledore was killed, Harry told them about his `mission' and he promised to join the quest, figuring that this would take only a bit of time and he'd come back a hero ...
Again Luna cut him off, wondering as she did what was in the potion that he'd drunk that made him this chatty - did leaving the headache potion for too long turn it into Veritaserum? It was apparent that Ron didn't know Susan used a love potion earlier else he'd be over the moon ... "And Hermione?"
"Huh?" At his confused expression, she explained, "Hermione, Ronald? Despite what you said when you arrived at the Great Hall this morning, the Prophet's announced you're married to her?"
"Oh that?" Ron waved a negligent hand. "Don't know, don't really care ... someone probably pranked us. It'll get sorted out ... too bad, though, I thought we were going to get it on first before she went mental ... we'll be shot of each other sooner or later, anyway. But not after I've gotten a taste of her ..."
It was Luna's turn to wonder where her mental train had gone off to as Ron continued his reverie about what he and Hermione could have done when he woke up that morning. She shook her head; right now, she needed to get the moron on track before she threw up ...
"RON!" He blinked and stared at her. "Prank or not, there's no divorce in the wizarding world, so how are you and Hermione going to be `shot' of each other?"
For the longest moment, Ron stared at her as if she was the Snorckack - and Luna blinked when he started roaring with laughter.
She wasn't impressed. Ron never needed much of an excuse to laugh at her unlike Harry or even Hermione; the latter at least never laughed at her, only rolled her eyes in exasperation when she went into her spaced-out mode but -
"Oh Luna, don't tell me you of all people believe what the Prophet prints?" Before she could reply, Ron continued, "Did the Prophet show a copy of the contract?" She shook her head. "So it could be some people polyjuiced to look like Hermy and I, right?" Luna shrugged. "I sure as hell don't remember any wedding. And anyway, even if whoever pranked us went all the way and filed a marriage contract with the Ministry … it's all to the good!"
Her expression must be priceless, she thought, for Ron started snickering again, so she cocked a pale eyebrow at him as she glared. A final giggle and Ron started talking, "Come on, Loony! Get with the program! Hermione and I aren't meant for each other ... we don't think the same way, we don't like the same things, there's nothing much we can talk about aside from Harry bloody Potter! You want a disaster? Put Hermy and I together in a room! There's nothing between us … sex, maybe - but how long do you think the silly bint can put out for that?"
Luna kept quiet, surprised that Ron had seen the same thing that she and many others had - if there were two people who were totally not meant to be together, it was Ron and Hermione. For that relationship to work, one or the other would have to be Obliviated and implanted with a different personality ... probably Ron, she thought, much less to change. Unless the Divine Writer who'd placed Nargles in mistletoe to confuse people wrote it that way ... She shook her head and focused on Ron, who continued talking.
"Tell Hermione that we're married and she'll take a runner for the muggle world … and I'll be free! Free of Hermione and her nagging, free of Harry and his fame - I'll be left here alone, the last of the Golden Trio, the last of those who'd defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" His grin was maniacal and Luna unconsciously fingered her wand even as her mind pondered where this was coming from. Probably a bad batch of potions, she thought, but wait, - "What does Harry have to do with this?"
The stare that Ron gave her was so incredulous that she wondered if a Blibbering Humdinger was perched on her head, followed by a look of sheer pity and a voice that sounded so much like older brother talking to imbecilic sibling that she almost pulled her wand on the prat: "D'you think Harry will just let her go? The moment she takes a runner, Harry will be chasing after her … come to think, I'm surprised they're both still here. I was half-expecting that she'd be on her way to Australia by now to get her parents … and Harry will be with her, of course."
He grinned, viciously. "And when they do … they won't be back."
"Harry won't do that …"
Ron cut her off with a snort. "Oh please, Loony! Even I'm not that thick! Harry hates his fame ... he's told me that often enough! D'you really think he'd stick around as our world's pinup boy, worshipped one day and treated like a prat the next? You can see it on his face … the longer he stays here, the more he looks like he's gonna run … all that he's waiting for is Hermione leaving which will give him an excuse to join her … and leave."
"Hermione won't let him …"
"She's loyal to Harry," the redhead spat. "She's never shown that kind of loyalty to me or the school or even to Gryffindor!" Luna blinked at the non sequitur. "She's only in the stands because of Harry - she's never there to cheer me on, she doesn't give a hoot about Quidditch unless Harry's playing ... Between the wizarding world and Harry, who d'you think she'll choose?"
He huffed abruptly, trying to calm down. "Whatever! He'll be gone ... Miss Bushy Head will be with him like always ... he'll convince her to stay in their world and I'll be left here alone, the last of the Golden Trio, Defender of Hogwarts, Destroyer of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named … I'll have a chance at Bones or Abbot or the Patils … I'll be the hero …"
It was taking everything Luna had to keep from grabbing another headache potion - only the fear of another bad batch stayed her hand. She stared at Ron who had a euphoric look on his face, no doubt thinking of naked witches and willing wenches surrounding the Hero of Hogwarts …. She shook her head, unable to believe that the person she'd known since childhood could have hidden this side of him for so long.
But then why should she be surprised? Behind his terrible manners, his laid back manner and lack of ambition, his fits of jealous rage, lurked a keen mind - something all too often overlooked because of his association with the Boy-Who-Lived. `He should have been Slytherin,' she thought, and wondered how the Hat had got it wrong, all those years ago.
She shook herself, realizing that her stomach was aching slightly which meant that it would be dinner time soon. `Perhaps there'll be pudding,' she thought to herself. She needed pudding right now ... it was her comfort food, something her mother made for her every time she was upset or in one of her moods.
`Maybe I can get some from the kitchens.' With that thought, she stood up and turned around, fully intent on leaving Ron to his foggy daydreams, only to fall back as if she'd slammed into an invisible wall. Ron blinked - and paled when the air shimmered as Disillusion Spells were removed, revealing Susan Bones with Ginny beside her, arms around each other and murderous glares focused on him. Ron's mouth dropped open as his mother shimmered into view, face as red as a Howler and mouth working at a furious rate although no words could be heard.
He understood why in the next second as his older brothers dropped their Disillusionment and Bill pointed his wand at their mother, apparently preparing to remove the Silencing Charm he'd cast at the living Howler. Ron turned to Luna, betrayal clearly on his face as he glared at the young blond.
Luna smiled sweetly and said "I lied," before turning and skipping out the room just as "RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!" rattled the walls. She hoped that Bill remembered to cancel the alarm wards and replace them with silencing wards; poor Poppy needed a break and rushing back to the Hospital Wing to restore shattered eardrums was not, by any stretch of the imagination, `taking a break'.
She made a mental note to ask the elves to send the Weasleys and Susan some pudding later.
***
Additional Author's Notes. Another cliffy, I know … but again, the story was running away from me (at almost 16,000 words) and I was getting bored reading it myself! So I decided to split the chapter once again but am getting more confident that I will have the next chapter out soon, hopefully by tomorrow.
Stay tuned!
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