Life and Times
Rating: R
Ship: HHr (main emphasis)
The (unlovely) procedure: all rights go to JKR for previous plot and characters, Scholastic, Warner, and whoever else has their hands in HP.
The guardian angels of life fly so high as to be beyond our sight, but they are always looking down upon us.
***
Chapter Fifty-One - Ronald
***
THE DAILY PROPHET
DO NOT MESS WITH GOBLINS
"Time is money!" shouted an angered Steelknuckles, Grand Overseer of Gringotts. Enraged, with rivers of sweat appearing on his olive green forehead betwixt aged wrinkles, he bellowed into an open podium full of microphones, "I will not have this scum's hairy claws bloody my gold! Filthy humans stay away from Gringotts!" This was the result after the Grand Overseer was told that the Ministry would be holding investigations charging Gringotts was channeling currency into Nolpho's campaign without permission from its stockholders, essentially stealing coffers from those who would be for Minister Kingsley or the other individuals running for Minister of Magic. As Gringotts controls a large portion of the currency, one could see the ripple effect after threats of withholding the currency process by the Grand Overseer. That is, if Kingsley's admin goes ahead with their investigation.
Spokespeople for the Grand Overseer have come out and said that the Overseer's lawyers will hold their own investigations into complaints that, "Minister Kingsley is using Ministry coffers for fringe projects that will benefit him and the Order's wallets, not the People's". Timothy Toulsen sent out a press release saying in part, "Not complying with Court's order should be reason enough to continue with the investigative process by the Kingsley Administration. If the Grand Overseer had nothing to hide, he wouldn't be counteracting our investigation with his own imaginary, deflective one. This is not a game to the shareholders of Gringotts who filed the complaints."
In response, a spokesman from the Goblin Liaison Office inside the Ministry came out minutes later quoting the Grand Overseer again, "'Continue, and we'll throw all the red meat we have on your organization to the media sharks.'" Some lucrative investors are contemplating their removal of all assets from Gringotts after the Grand Overseer's fiery, anti-human rhetoric. Of course, these lucrative investors are also human. The magical kin, especially goblin, have actually invested more into Gringott's over the past month.
Stock gains across the board have become stationary or declined amidst the uncertainty brought upon by the Grand Overseer. Chief Executives inside Violet Hill's commerce sector have put blame squarely on the Ministry, exclaiming, "They [the Ministry] are provoking an already fragile post-War economy". Some have also considered the implications that this is Minister Shacklebolt's way of creating a smoke screen where there shouldn't be fire. However, with the problems at Gringotts bank, banks like the Bank of England have seen a trend in interest. Goblins are crying out that this is the real ploy. By scaring the goblins from business, other banks will reap the rewards-"the banks controlled by humans".
The Grand Overseer has said in the past that, "Ever since bargaining with the foul humankind, the chips have been stacked against us. If the Kingsley admin wants a financial war, we'll give them their financial war."
The Department for Magical Creatures (once known as Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures or DRCMC) has stated, "a further strain has been put on the Ministry's Alliance with magical creature brethren globally". Nevertheless, Quincy Nolpho's campaign has seen an uptick in goblin support. No one knows for sure what it means for others.
Gus Perwinsky
Writer
Page 1
***
Only those two boys would think to grill anything outside on a bitter cold day. But there they were, standing over hot coals, charring meats and vegetables. I couldn't believe it on Halloween. Ron appeared right where he needed to be. Xavier was a juvenile. Harry was an adult. Like with most laws in the Muggle society, the alternate world continued to press the condemnation of battery, and especially that of a child. Harry, with the efficient help of the Prophet, would have very well been victim of persecution.
Oddly, not a peep was spoken about Ron afterward.
I'd suspected something in the Prophet.
He was there, and here, and…he wouldn't venture too far.
Since his appearance back in our lives, he hadn't made so much of any attempt to contact Arthur and Molly. He was with Harry mostly, and when Gin and I went out earlier to do a little shopping, remained waiting at Cho's until we returned. Astonishingly, Harry had gotten him from inside the home after Cho went on her date to which, at first, was highly unlikely to happen. He'd cleverly create a tangent whenever Harry would bring up the conversation. After careful persuasion, and a few looks from those mysterious blue eyes at our atmosphere, he crept onto the grounds.
He wore white robes, the kind I'd seen on Aurors, except his was open. Much like a cloak than anything else, the exposed portion gave way to silver cloth and dark leather. A vest, an enormous belt, foreign pants I swore I'd seen the likes of in Eastern fashions, and these dark leather, pointed boots. A hybrid of multicultural, Auror, and sleekness emphasized fluidity? I didn't know, really; only pulling at straws.
One simple fact was made clear by my initial glance: Ronald Weasley was not the Ronald Weasley I'd known for years. He wasn't even the Ronald Weasley of months ago. Something had definitely changed; something I was sure we'd hear more of later. If not, I'd surely have my say so. The know-it-all in me shouted, "He wants to tell you something!"
Harry gained an extra leg. Like night and day, Harry looked loads better. There was this lackluster momentum he gained. I noticed, since the trial, since the attacks, since his bout with Kingsley that he just sort of trudged his way forward with his chin down. I couldn't rightly get inside his head, and he was good at hiding what he felt until he broke down. That was certain. So, without trouncing on his recollection with Ron, like they were those two best mates at Hogwarts, I let it go for now.
I took a sip from a warm mug of coffee in my hands and watched Harry and Ron become those youths from our past. They'd laugh, after Harry would push on Ron, and then Ron would fire back saying something to an inaudible statement from Harry and shove him. I grinned, standing at the sliding glass doors, at them on the patio. Drifts of snow clung to the cracks of the home and along the fence line. I set the mug from my lips and cradled it carefully, looking askance when I felt a hand on my bent arm.
"That's a really adorable jumper, `Mi," Gin stepped beside me and lightly tugged on the white cashmere.
I smiled at her, my sight returning to Harry and Ron when they both let out a laugh I could hear through the glass.
"Has he said anything to you?" I asked after observing Harry, his gorgeous smile in context to his conversation with Ron. He looked happy, and that in turn made me happy.
"Who?" Gin had her own mug of coffee, the response muffled at first while she drank. "Ron?"
"Yeah-why hasn't he let your mum and dad know he's here?"
"Dunno," Gin shrugged, motioning with her cup towards the two at their outdoor kitchen. "I'd suppose it has something to do with the Ministry. You know how they like to function better than I do. Maybe it's because Kingsley doesn't want some to be known?"
"Hm…"
"It's not like Aurors walk around freely."
"Well, that could explain some of it, I guess. Kingsley had said weeks back how he liked to keep what is secret a secret. Ron becoming an Auror would add an indisputable layer in the conundrum."
"Well, I know one thing."
"What's that?" I turned to her.
Gin looked at me, and then away, gazing back outside. "I've come to believe mum's been obliviated."
"She's been what?!" I could feel my eyes widen.
"She used to worry loads about Ron, and now," Gin sipped her coffee, a finger through the handle. "She quit. I can't explain it, and it's not like I can go to the Ministry and demand an answer. They'll deny it even if she was. Hey-at least she's out of my hair."
They are secret because if Death Eaters find out just how many they are they can act accordingly!
I could hear Kingsley's words echo.
"Do you think your mum knew about Ron all along?"
"I think," Gin began, smiling in her silhouette at Ron and Harry's roughhousing. She then became solemn, "I think mum, as usual, stuck her nose where it shouldn't belong. It's not like Kingsley to obliviate at random, especially us, `the Order', the Order's family."
"The sudden reappearance of my brother, and now mum thinks differently?" Gin shook her head, taking to her coffee again. "It's not complex in my mind. Mum was brash and probably got what she deserved in the end."
"Gin…," Even if Molly had become a bit…terse, blaming me for the end-all of their happy family, I still didn't wish her brains muddled. "He's done it for safety, then, you think? That's the only thing that makes sense. Like you said, he would never just obliviate."
"It's not like my family was ever in the clear when it came to danger," Gin wiped a bit of gloss left on the brim of the mug with her thumb. "Then mum uncovers Ron after all these months. He's certainly not in the loony bin as we thought-evidence A."
She pointed off at Ron.
"Evidence B, those aren't typical Auror attire. If he were the usual, those openly shown in the newspaper, television, there wouldn't be a case. He's special. Maybe he's special because he's my brother? Maybe he's singled out because he was part of the Order? I haven't a clue-you're the know-it-all!"
She poked me.
"It's not like the Ministry wouldn't have hidden organizations at their disposal, but Ron? Why would he be chosen?"
"Maybe he volunteered? Maybe after all those years of wanting to do something with his life he finally got the chance and took it?" Gin shrugged. "He had become a lump on the sofa…"
I looked from Gin to Ron. He was practically a stranger.
My mind wrought in knots.
"They must inject them with steroids," I mused.
Gin huffed. "He was living dad's legacy and eating morning, noon, and night. The only thing he lacked that dad had was direction. How many times did daddy demand for him to get off his bum and quit playing with the toys he'd bring home from the Joke Shop? You should remember."
"Oh, how I very well remember…" I closed my eyes at the slight gesture of memory, actually hearing some of those annoying, whirling…hat contraptions… Or, how I was shocked by one of those hand buzzers. Or, how I was the guinea pig for a new kind of bean, "to rival Berty Botts," only I found a variety of mucus-flavoured in my box. Etcetera, etcetera…
He needed to grow up.
Gin leaned into me and put her head on my shoulder.
"How's work?" I asked, my eyes returning their focus to Harry hugging himself outside.
"Management doesn't know if they can hold onto me after the holidays. But, I'm crossing my fingers about the Quibbler. I talked to Schultz, her Secretary, and asked if there were any openings. Maybe I could get a spot in their Quidditch editorials? Maybe I can finally get that apartment near Big Ben come next year?"
"That really sucks about Blotts, Gin," I put an arm around her. "But, it was only temporary-right? I'm sure Luna will help you out. She's just the best. She'll make space for you. We should have never made fun of her, you know. She has our backs ten-fold and more."
"You don't know how many times I've apologized to her and yet, she just smiles and goes on. But, I still got galleons coming in, hun," she hugged me, carefully juggling her cup so she wouldn't pour any on my jumper, or my jeans. "So, it's all good. You'd absolutely adore it, Mi. I get to be around books all day…"
I grinned, taking a sip of coffee and saw as Harry took a pair of tongs to take the steaks from the grill.
"…Maybe I'd like it too if I was a nerd like you."
"Nerd?" I exaggerated a scoff. "Offensive, completely."
"A gaw-geous nerd."
I laughed. "Gaw-geous?"
"Gaw-geous!"
"Less American television," I chuckled into the last contents of the black drink. "More classical literature."
"Pfft. Fuck that."
I laughed which came out in a snort.
Gin snorted in spite of my accident and poked the side of my rib cage. "I left that back in Hogwarts. Thank Merlin we didn't have to go through an entire new year to `graduate'. That would have been disastrous, and hellish to my tastes. I'd have rather had a Brillo pad grated over my arms. I'd have had to escape like a prisoner."
"And here I thought I could get you in with me at Oxford," I snickered, rolling my eyes. "Oh, Gin, you and your theatrics, I swear."
"Oh, Hermione, you and your theatrics…," she imitated me, but in high-pitched tones. She then blew a raspberry into the sleeve of my jumper.
I chuckled and tried to shake her off.
She latched on.
My focus leaving Harry and Ron, fighting with Gin-I'd try to shake loose and she'd come right on back-that I hadn't seen them coming until I heard the sliding glass doors open. Then, I heard the "Brr!" of Harry, and laughs come from Ron. When I saw them Ron looked in his element, carrying the dinner tray. Harry, on the other hand, capitulated how cold it was with another, "Brr!", rubbing the sides of his arms.
"'Bout freeze your testes off, eh?" I said, leaving Gin to go to Harry after his commotion.
"Almost," he replied. "It's quite chilly out there."
"Bloody well right," I felt of him, and even through his coat I could feel the cold. "You're frozen. You're going to catch cold, and then what?"
"I'll be fine," he added. "Get me some of that hot coffee."
"Here," I offered him any that was left of mine.
"Hey," Ron interjected, having left the two of us on his way into Cho's kitchen. "What if we ate this by the fire, no? I'm a little chilled, too."
"I think you're both dumbasses, frankly," announced Gin, plucking the tray from Ron's hands. She waddled on into the kitchen.
"Oh, my sister," Ron sighed, giving an eye roll. "Always the honest one. You've grown perfectly into mum."
"Don't you dare say that again!" Harry and I heard something collide with Ron, making him yell:
"Hey, that's our food!"
"Well, that's what you get for-!"
"Ginny'll have our dinner on the walls," whispered Harry quickly at my ear. "And unless you want to eat standing up…"
"We better get in there," I chuckled, slipping away to grab Harry's hand as he led me off towards the tantrum in the kitchen.
***
"Gin," Ron sat back in a recliner, the toasty fire roaring in the hearth. The fire gave off its orange hue, its light our light. Harry and I were on the sofa together, my legs and feet hiked up onto the cushions as I sat somewhat side-saddle into my Love. Gin had gone to take our plates away, shushing me when I wanted to help her.
"Hm?" She came back into the living quarters, bounding around in a skip and plopped down aside me. With Harry's arm around my shoulders, and a new appendage, Gin wiggling her arm around my waist, I was more than warm and comfortable.
"Tell Cho a thousand times thank you when she gets home."
"And a thousand times, yes-I will. Though, she'll never know about this, eh?"
"Haha…," Ron drew in a deep breath and let it all out, leaning backward, his face towards the ceiling. He spoke, resuming, "…It's been a while since I can recall stopping, sitting, and doing nothing in particular. It's refreshing."
"…Not that I'm not doing anything now," He glanced back at us. "Among friends."
"What do you mean, mate?" Harry questioned, adjusting himself so I had an easier time fitting to his abstract puzzle piece outline. "What's the Ministry done to you?"
"Remember those days at Hogwarts when we'd talk up the night about wanting to be Aurors?"
"Well," I piped in. "That's understood. But Gin, and me, and Harry… It's not like we don't want you here-"
"Ha!" shouted Gin.
Everyone turned to look at her.
Silence.
"…It was a joke, sheesh."
Harry laughed through his nose and I gave a head shake, an eye roll. "Weasel…"
"What? …Psh-whatever," She snuggled into me. "Shush it, `Mi."
I stuck my tongue out.
"Kids." Harry shook his head.
I gasped and prodded his stomach.
"Ugh!"
"I miss this," Ron said in smiles, his eyes alight from the fireplace. A bandana, the same silvery thread and cloth, kept his Weasley-red from his sight. The choppy hair sprung out at random; though, together seemed whole.
"I don't understand, Ron," Harry fell somber after tickling, attacking me for a seconds with his fingers. "You say things like that as if you aren't able to come home. You can come home. The Burrow is very much there. Your dad, your mum-"
Ron shook his head. "It's just not true, Harry. I'm not going to patronize you, because you don't know, but it's not as simple as packing and moving back in. I'll never be able to assimilate, nevertheless, assimilate elsewhere."
"Ron-can we please quit all the psychology lessons and get to the point?" Gin sounded perturbed.
I rang in similarly, stating, "You're acting fairly dark, Ron… The words you choose aren't exactly the most uplifting. You're not disconnected for whatever it's worth."
"I'm very proud of what I do, though."
"You've got people who love you. But if it's your mum or dad, or Gin," I nudged her with an elbow, and she poked me back. "That's the decision maker, I'm sure you can get an apartment, or we can lend a helping hand. You could stay at our house for a while-"
"-If it's all right with Harry, that is," I diverted, glancing at Harry who had gazed down at me.
He looked up at Ron and nodded, "Absolutely, mate. You tell me what you need and I'll hook you up. Need a bed-we've got spares."
One could see Ron's heart swell, a glimmer in his surrealistic blue swirling irises. "You don't know how much that means to me, hearing you all say those things. I'm touched."
"Well, it's the truth," Harry confided, honestly. "And, you wouldn't be a burden. Come and go as you please-I'd have to make arrangements, of course. I won't exactly be able to do this without the Ministry-"
"-The Ministry is my home…to an extent, at least."
"Did you ever see a doctor after that night?" asked Gin. "You were depressed, drinking-"
"I did, and not to sound prophetic, but that night drastically changed my life. If it weren't for my actions, however horrible they were, I'd still be that prat living at home."
I coaxed fromm beside Harry. "You're here for a reason-so tell us. What is going on? What has happened-to you-to everything, with everything?"
"I wouldn't want to bore you."
"Just say anything," Harry chuckled. "You've definitely got our attention."
"Okay," Ron sighed, bundling his arms, crisscrossing them at his chest. You could hear the pull of his dark leather gloves, his digits retracting into his fists. "Well…beyond the obvious, I am, in fact an Auror."
"But not just any old Auror. A superior of mine, he came to me slightly after I was asked if I really did want to commit suicide. After the War, and so many deaths, my brother… He told me he could feel and see the turmoil inside me, inside here," Ron patted his chest. "And how I wanted and waited for some sort of epiphany. You know I was troubled Hermione…"
He looked at me, and then to Harry. "And Harry."
"But particularly you, Hermione," His crystal blue stare returned to me. "And I must apologize for hurting you. I never meant to hurt you-ever. I was lost."
"It's all right now, Ron," I smiled and nodded to let him know I genuinely meant it. My place, my heart, my soul was attached to the lifeline I knew: my Love. That's where I knew I was meant to be, and knowing that changed my outlook. No more were the days of wallowing in bed wondering why…because I found him. "I know it was never your intent to hurt me."
I stayed because leaving would have shattered you…
"We're all lost at some point, mate. It happens," exclaimed Harry, and I could sense the words reverberating with the thoughts of having found a place in life. "Look at me-look at what I've done-"
"I'm going to go get a butterbeer," announced Gin, breaking in the conversation, sliding from my form and off the sofa. She stood and turned to look at us three. "Anyone?"
She had the…malaise of a third-wheel across her drooped features.
"No thank you.
"Nah.
"No thanks, Gin."
"I'll be right back…," she left us for the kitchen.
Gin…
She gave me a look as if she read my thoughts.
Ron watched his sister intensely for a moment, and then peered from his linger to me. My sight locked with his and I swore I saw…something. A flash, in fast-forward…bits…images going by so fast… It was an odd feeling, almost like I'd blacked out for a second. He blinked which surrendered the uplifted feeling, and I had to find myself from that outer-body experience.
I took my hand and held my head, spying through my fingers at Ron who had taken to looking back at Harry.
The wooziness drifted away as fast as it came on.
"…My superior," he continued. "He saw a driving passion in me. Not only did he see that I wanted to be something, someone, be an Auror, find a place-like you said-but encompass a greater good. I didn't just want to follow in my father's footsteps, join some office at the Ministry pushing papers. My brother's had their Joke Shop, and as much as I know he'd let me in as partners I'd still feel like I stepped on…"
"I trained, tirelessly, day in and day out. Sometimes for sixteen hours, twenty-four, grueling, and exhausting days. One time I swore I sweated an entire ocean. Harry-becoming an Auror…it's like nothing anyone will ever experience in their lives. No wonder the first part of Moody's nickname was Mad. I've seen guys like me go nuts in there, mate."
"Damn," Harry said in near-whisper, emphasized by how exhaustive Ron made it to be. "What do they have you do?"
"Let me show you something…," Ron slipped his hands deep into his pockets hidden beneath the cloak and retrieved his wand. The bark was stiff, rigid glossy ebony. It certainly wasn't the flimsy kind he held at Hogwarts. "Here."
He tossed it over to me, and I could feel weight beneath the slender stick.
I didn't know he'd do that, and I fumbled to catch his wand and finally did after some circus tricks. I looked up at him through mascara, tucking loosened strands of hair behind my ears. "…What do you want me to do with it?"
"Keep it a mo'," Ron's head swiveled, his eyes leaving mine. He focused on a stack of books piled on the floor by his feet, aside the recliner. He didn't move but his hand, raising it upwards, floating it feet above the binding. Slowly, the book lifted straight, turned and he caught it inside his gloved hand.
"Wandless magicks…?" I was utterly astounded. I think the little hairs on my arm rose.
I wasn't every day you saw wandless magic… Dumbledore grasped the potential, Voldemort grasped the potential, Moody, Minerva… I was sure Kingsley knew it… Ron…
"Christ!" Harry went from shock to awe, two verbs that surrounded my own current vocabulary. His look could explode from behind his glasses. "That's…"
Ron set the book down on a table between us, raised that hand, raised his index finger and asked, "May I have my wand back?"
Before I could even speak I felt this warmth envelope my opened hands. Slowly the wand left my palms, floated in a curve through the air and fell directly into Ron's waiting palm. He smirked and slipped the wand back into the pockets inside his cloak.
"I'm your Guardian, Hermione."
"What?"
"The night when Death Eaters swarmed your mum and dad's home where you were babysitting your nephew…I wasn't there. That wasn't my team. But, when I ultimately heard about it-and I caught bloody hell for getting in the superior's face about it-Kingsley asked me one question and I answered it with one answer."
Guardian…
"He asked me: Do you love her so much that you would swear to stand within her shadow? Nothing in my mind could deny that wasn't so. I gave an oath to be your trusted defense, to never leave you."
"Harry," Ron chuckled a little. "I'm not saying anything else, by the way, and congratulations are in order of your soon-to-be wedding."
"I never took that meaning, mate," Harry laughed along, too. "I'm very happy to know you are there to see my heart through. I wouldn't have it any other way."
"But he doesn't have to do this, Harry," I looked between him and Ron. "You don't have to do this, Ron. Look out for your-"
"It's been this way for months, Hermione. I'm bound to you by a promise to which cannot be severed. I think that's why I came out as I did. I guess I wanted to tell you, my friend, my friends. I do have a duty to remain confidential, being one of those `specialized' Aurors and all that pizzazz," Ron waved it off. "This is what I wanted to do… And, I feel very proud."
To have my own…
"Are they really after me, Ron?" I asked when it came right down to it. Needing an Auror to myself? Kingsley feeling the need to…ask Ron? Ron? He could have… He could have asked anyone. Ron. "Am I really in danger?"
Ron gave a grin. "You know I'm unable to give specifics, or risk of every one of us obliviated…but, I will ask you this in response:"
He dropped down in height, sitting in the chair, and whispered. "Have you been in a situation since then like that night?"
I thought, and…shook my head, "no".
Ron smiled and nodded. "There's your answer."
***
"Is she asleep?"
"Yeah," Harry said silently, sitting next to a slumbering Hermione. He had an arm about her legs on his lap. Hermione's head on a pillow, she had one arm up over her head while the other lay across her abdomen. Her face went towards the sofa. "It doesn't take a whole lot to get her sleepy. She's a trooper."
"Didn't she start to drift off the moment we started discussing Quidditch?" Ron sat back down in the recliner. He'd gone to toss an empty butterbeer bottle out, taken to one after Gin had left for bed.
Harry gently lifted the legs he carried and let Hermione sprawl across the second cushion. In squat, he knelt down beside her, took his fingers and softly swept her hair within them. He spoke whilst watching her chest rise and fall, completely at ease in her serenity. He only hoped she drifted to the sweetest of dreams.
"Isn't she the most beautiful creature you've ever seen?"
"She has quite the glorious aura about her-very warm."
His thumb traced a line down her smooth cheek, creating a burst of movement, a breath of hers coming to and settling as she exhaled from his touch. He fixed his glasses, a habitual response when he could feel the cloudiness in his focus, an onset of tears. "Sorry, for the emotional spells tonight-"
He flicked his head around to see Ron, his hand cradling that farthest cheek in the background. "But I love her terribly, and to see, and hear, and see, and hear things-constantly-"
He turned his head towards Hermione again in time to see her rub against his hand. He smiled. "I'm glad to know you're there, Ron. I've thought of you as a trusted friend-"
"-Even at times when I thought you were incredibly thick," Harry moved to see Ron, viewing the smirk he gave him by his statement.
"Young and naive-I only hope my apologies are enough. I wasn't sure she'd cast me aside, regardless," Ron stood up and met Harry at Hermione's side. He chose to stand a bit further up, leaned on the sofa's armrest, his right arm his balance. "I'd have continued to defend her from afar, anyway. That I know. She could have berated me countless times and I would never stray."
"I don't think `berating' is in her bones. She's too much of a giver to accept negativity," Harry explained, transitioning to state: "I honestly wonder why she's even with me. I'm a magnet, for lack of a better term, for all this destruction. You'd think she would find me repulsive."
"You may say that Harry, and in another life I'd probably find solace in your words; but in actuality, you're her match," Ron's richly cerulean eyes followed Harry's posture, him, his arm, the attachment he placed, and then to Hermione herself. "There's a spectrum, like body temperature but on a spiritual layer. Some people describe it as that `aura,' and that's possibly the closest definition of the phenomenon I can see."
Harry flashed back to Ron. "You can see…auras now? Don't discredit me after I say that tonight has been one mad twist after the next. Do I even know you anymore?"
Ron laughed at Harry's tart cantor. "I'm just a wee bit different."
"Ha! That's putting it slightly to the left."
Ron chuckled, his eyes leaving the slumbering Hermione to stare at the faded jade-green eyes of Harry. "Moody could see it. Kingsley can see it. It's a representation of us. There's colour from the blackest of black to the purest of whites. People shift, like hunger or thirst, and bend to these colours. It's a quick reference of character. A change will happen if someone chooses to go down a different path, and so on. It can get, well, complicated."
"More like wind blowing over my head, rather."
"Think of it as a map with a bunch of coordinates," Ron concluded. "The closer people are with their coordinates, the closer they can become."
"So, her and mine are similar, then?"
"You couldn't get a knife to slip through them," Ron affirmed with precision in his tone. "But you didn't need me to tell you that, did I? Isn't it rather obvious?"
Harry looked back at Hermione and combed at her fringe.
"How many times did she come to find you? How many times did she stand up for you? Protect you? Be beside you? Help you? Advocate for your needs? I don't think there's been a day since you two met when you haven't been on her mind."
"Can you read minds, too?" Harry asked with sarcasm.
"Haha… I'm still human. I can die, and I'm by no means immortal, though," Ron looked onward smugly. "Kingsley certainly does spook the Death Eaters into thinking so. They scatter like roaches back to their holes when they realize we're on our way."
"Maybe you shouldn't say that too loud, then."
"I've also protection…while I'm here. I was given the OK to come out like this. Again, I'm only human after all."
"I'm sorry to hear about Molly."
Ron shrugged. "It isn't like she thinks I'm dead. Dad knows the truth, but he also knows to keep his mouth shut. She has protection. Dad's had protection ever since… Well, really ever since he aligned with the Order. Someone like me given an oath."
"Do I have one, too?"
It didn't take but a breath for Ron to say: "I believe you have the whole damn army."
"As much as that's flattering, I'd rather her," Harry motioned to Hermione with his chin. "Have the `whole damn army' than me."
"And don't think your shouting match with Kingsley didn't resonate with him."
"You know about that, eh?"
"I was briefed that you may snap at me if I brought him up. I would have let you go if you did. It's not healthy leaving that bottled up-believe me. I let it out and got reprimanded when I talked down nearly the entire brigade that was supposed to be with Hermione that night. But, without my remarks maybe I wouldn't be in the position I'm in today. That's me: stumbling my way and getting somewhere."
Harry laughed at the obvious.
"He does love you like a son, Harry," confided Ron after sharing a laugh. "Kingsley. It's not like Dumbledore didn't carry down his sentiment about you to others. Not to mention how many lives you saved. Do you know how much clout you have? A lot of people in the Ministry care about you."
"If I have so much clout, tell them to care about her, too."
"That's why I'm here," Ron gave a laugh through his nose. "I like to think I fill in the gaps."
"Thank you, Ron," Harry reached out the short distance with his hand.
Ron's eyes followed his best mate's reach and smiled, taking his glove to Harry's open palm and shook it. "I'd do this, in any event."
"I still greatly appreciate everything you've done and are doing. You don't know how much weight has been taken off my shoulders now that I know someone who loves her as much as I do is looking out for her in areas my peripherals don't extend to. I won't keep her caged-she's not an animal-so I let her go, to school, to work, shopping with Gin, and whatever else makes her happy."
"No harm will ever be done to her. I promise you."
"That's all I need to know."
Hermione started to squirm and fidget. With the conversation beside her, she blinked open those drowsy eyes and yawned. She stretched and peeked about, her arms above her head, to see Harry and Ron watching her from either side. She grinned, let escape a tiny moan when she'd found a sweet spot and let her arms and legs return forth to their positions. She went to roll over, comfy and carefree, her man and Guardian encapsulating her from life's other realities.
"Hey," Harry said in a light laugh and smile. Hermione let drift an eye open to see him, yawning once more. "It's getting late and you've lesson tomorrow. Ready to head on home?"
She stretched, looked to ponder in her twilight, and then nodded. Closing her eyes in a flutter, she yawned again. Harry expressed an "Aw," and started to scoop her up in his arms.
She instantly caught him around the neck as he stood.
"You two are so sweet… I'm sure I'll get sick come morning."
Harry grinned first at Ron, and then said to Hermione, "Want to say good bye to Ron before we leave?"
"I don't know when the next time I can see you. But, I'll make my best effort to visit when I can. I'll be with you, though." Ron held his hips as he looked on at Hermione in the crook of Harry's shoulder and throat, the perfect place to rest.
"Mmn…"
"I think that was her attempt at `bye'."
Ron chuckled into his fist. "She's tired."
"She is," Harry glanced from her to him. "But she heard you. She'll remember. I'll remember."
Ron smiled. "Thank you."
"Take her home and get her in bed," Ron ended as Harry turned to walk from the house, moving to the exit.
"And Gin?"
"I'll stay with my sister until Cho gets home from her late night date," Ron peered upstairs when they'd crossed the living space. "I won't leave her here unattended."
"All right," Harry flipped back around in the hallway, his hand on the doorknob of the home's entrance. He looked beyond Hermione, her mahogany locks about his neck, tickling in the slight breeze he made, and said again to Ron. "Thank you."
Ron grinned and nodded.
"And, you stay safe, mate. I don't want to hear from Kingsley that you've kicked the can."
Ron tilted his head back and belted a laugh. "Oh… Harry, thank you. It helps right here."
Ron patted his chest. "It does."
Harry smiled and went to open the door, to be sidetracked by an interjection of, "And, Harry…!"
He turned to see Ron, the door cracked open. "Yeah?"
"Congratulations again, mate. I wish you two the best."
"We won't be able to send you a wedding invitation, but you'll be there? As my honorary best man?"
"If you want me to," Ron grinned from ear-to-ear. "Valentine's, right?"
"In the backyard of her mum and dad's home. It'll be in the morning."
"Cool. I'll absolutely be there to give a toast to my best mates.."
"Cool," Harry grinned. "Good night, Ron."
"Good night, Harry," Ron watched as Harry descended the steps wrapped tightly in Hermione. The snow had begun again to fall, but very lightly. The glow off the street lamps made each fleck glow in the darkness.
"Sweet dreams, Hermione," Ron whispered, seeing, and then hearing Harry's distinct "POP!" as he disappeared.
***
A profoundly taxed bundle of limbs and hair beset Harry. Harry, laying up in bed with a pillow at his back, became Hermione's offer of security, her arm secure about him, her cheek positioned above his heart so she heard him live. Like raindrops hitting the roof, the sound of Harry's beat was that rhythmic drum. Having come home, they'd quickly changed and went to sleep…to have the light turn on with a motion from Harry's hand. He didn't wake Hermione, being aware and quiet as he placed his glasses upon his nose, took the newspaper from the same nightstand, and read this morning's Quibbler.
Below an article, the headline reading:
PROPHET DEMANDS PUBLIC APOLOGY FROM WNN AFTER MCCRADY SAYS SKEETER AN, "INCITER OF VIOLENCE" ON AIR
To a revolving and changing headline from this morning:
SKEETER, PROPHET GIVES PERWINSKY THE BOOT, STATING, "THE PROPHET DOES NOT THEORISE" AFTER PERWINSKY QUOTES STEELKNUCKLES' HUMAN HATRED
From:
SKEETER, PROPHET TO CHALLENGE PERWINSKY'S DECADE-LONG CONTRIBUTION TO PROPHET MEDIA
Another headline read:
CAMP POTTER REJOICES AFTER NEW POLLS SHOW HARRY POTTER LEADING NOLPHO BY 20%, UP FROM 12% LAST WEEK
Camp Potter, a newly-formed political rising whom support Harry Potter for Minister of Magic, have something to be excited about after a new WNN poll came out yesterday showing Harry Potter up eight percent from his twelve percent lead over Quincy Nolpho last week. Their spokeswoman, Leieh Daniels, says that, "Their volunteers are the ones that should receive credit. This boost in the polling shows that we're really getting our word to everyone." Although Harry Potter hasn't blessed their movement, nor has he even chosen to run at all, he should know that there are many faces, young and old, behind him. What Camp Potter does acknowledge is Mister Potter's full support of Kingsley Shacklebolt's administration, but wishes that if the Minister is removed that someone like Harry Potter is put in his place.
When we asked Miss Daniels what she would describe Mister Nolpho as using one word, she answered, "Shady." And, why wouldn't he be considered this way? Quincy Nolpho has been banished from the Ministry for "divulging confidential information to the public", announced an inside Ministry investigator. With the Ministry conducting investigations into the Prophet and Rita Skeeter for harboring criminals, and Skeeter's endorsement to the Nolpho campaign, we're asking if it's all connected by one string. It's your voice. Can we connect the dots?
Feel free to write me your thoughts. Some letter may be featured in future Quibbler's.
Rebecca Greene
Writer
P.1
Hermione's cough woke Harry from zoning out. His eyes blurring, they refocused and went to the perfect face peeking forth from a curtain of perfect hair. She rubbed herself, her cheek, her nose into his bare chest and lifted in squint to see Harry peering down.
"…Something wrong?" She asked, looking at him, to the newspaper he held in the other hand, and back to him. She wasn't exactly awake, lying back down as if she hadn't said anything before Harry could reply:
"Nothing." He scratched her back through the silky white sleep slip she wore.
His eyes kept on her, he couldn't help but see the irony.
In one hand held the Quibbler, the requests, the aches…
…His other, Hermione, happiness, and the Keeper of his heart.
I'm no politician… I'm nothing like Dumbledore or Kingsley… Hell, I'm not even like Ron… But, people…I give them hope…? If I need to go, could I…? He questioned in thought. If people needed me to be there, could I just up and leave…? Leave this all behind? My family…
Platform Nine and Three-Quarters bustled like any other day this time of the year. Parents coddled children, the children with their bags and books on trolleys peddling them towards the shiny red Hogwarts Express. Overhead, the glass-paneled ceiling showcased a blue sky, sunny day, albeit with cold weather. The adults, kids, new and returning students, rushed around with caps, mittens, and coats to their necks. The Hogwarts train conductors, in their navy-and-crimson tails, directed the lost to their destination.
Mothers and fathers kissed, hugged, and waved good-bye for a new school year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Among the crowds stood a much older, clean-shaven Harry and Hermione, her hair in a bun. Both dressed for business, Harry in a suit, Hermione's pencil-skirt cut to her calves. She'd bent down to a little girl's height in front of them, holding onto a trolley of her belongings, stamped with the initials A.S.P. atop the Hogwarts emblem. The little girl, her face bright with the busy, happy atmosphere, her hair curly, long and darkly brunette like her mother, her eyes a brilliant jade-green like her younger father, gazed oppositely into Hermione's tear-stained eyes.
Hermione extra-cautiously, extra-carefully made sure the little girl's hair was immaculate, her coat straight, her face clean with a bit of spit. Of course, when Hermione wiped her cheek off with mummy's spit did the little girl try and get away.
"Mummy!" wriggled the tiny image of Hermione
Hermione sniffed, puffy-eyed, and let out a snicker.
Harry, his hand on the trolley, smiled down at their exchange. At a glance, he double-checked the suitcases, examining them by size to their contents, and gave a snowy-white owl a finger-rub through the cage. The owl let out an affectionate chirp by the attention.
"Now, you've got everything?"
"Yes, mummy…"
"You're absolutely sure?"
All the while Hermione kept fidgeting with their daughter's clothes.
"Mummy!" The eleven year old shot looks around. "You're making me embarrassed…"
"Do you remember the nice, tall man that came over for dinner and brought with him rock cakes?"
"I think I still have a bit lodged in my teeth…"
Hermione laughed, seeing her daughter pick at her teeth.
Harry smiled, took the hand from the trolley and put it on his cheek.
"Yes, his name is Hagrid," Hermione smoothed out the collar of the little girl's coat for the umpteenth time. "When you get off the train and you feel overwhelmed, he'll guide you. All the teachers there are nice, too, so if you ever have any questions-"
"Ask! I knooowww, mum… Gosh."
"She's a big girl, mum," poked Harry, his daughter smiling up at him in the sunlight.
Hermione stood up and huffed, "But…," She turned to Harry and whispered. "She's my ickle Abbi…"
"ALL ABOARD!"
The Hogwarts Express's horn tooted, whistling.
"Do you see her?" Hermione was in a chase after their daughter climbed onto the train. She went from one window to the next in hopes of catching a glimpse with Harry, hand-in-hand. "Was that her? Did you see her walk by that compartment?"
"There she is, Love," Harry stopped, his arm having a pull when Hermione didn't. He pointed. She shuffled on aside her mate and clamored for the adjacent window. There, innocent and eager, waved the tiny Hermione. "Right there-there she is, waving!"
Harry started to wave back only to have Hermione step towards the train and motion upwards. She prodded the window, where the latches were at in their bottom corners. The young Hermione undid the window and pushed it up. Parents around them started to do similar actions, talking to their kids from their windows, pushing Harry backwards until there was a breadth of bodies between him and his wife. He moved closer to Hermione, to his daughter, and caught them mid-conversation.
"…Remember what we discussed about Muggle Studies. It'll be a breeze. Daddy's notes on Potions will help you if you can't figure something out, and then you have Charms with-"
"I got it, mummy."
Harry placed his hand upon the small of Hermione's back.
Hermione let out this incredible sigh, and Harry knew by the emotion driven behind it that she'd surely cry. He turned to watch her as she said, her hands with their daughter's, "Mummy loves you so very much, Abigail. Don't you ever forget that."
Harry watched the first of many tears fall from his wife's big brown eyes.
"Mummy…," Abigail began to tear up, her green eyes widening for the watery sheen now in her sight.
Hermione squeezed Abigail's hands. "Don't you ever forget that, do you hear me?"
Harry squeezed Hermione's waist.
Abbi cried.
Harry's heart broke, and he tried to remain composed amongst the test for paternal devotion. He'd kept this way for Hermione's sake, but she and he couldn't resist the chugging sound of the Hogwarts Express and the inevitable departure. The wheels on the tracks began to turn unbeknownst to Hermione.
"Love, before your feet get rolled over…"
Hermione's hands, her fingers, slowly slipped away from Abigail's greatly outstretched arms. She found Harry and hid her face in his coat.
"I love you, daddy…," Abigail, stuttering breathes, reached out for Harry. The train inched forward ever-so-sluggishly, building.
Harry went to his daughter, stood on his toes, marched with the steady train, put his hand on her cheek and gave her forehead a kiss. When their eyes met, her large saucers to his, Harry couldn't help but let slip a tear. "Daddy loves you so much-and if you ever need us, ask Headmaster Flitwick. Mummy and I will be always checking the Post. You'll do so well. I know you'll do so well."
A brief pause, to say at their end:
"You're daddy's little girl after all."
He wiped away the tear streaks on Abigail's cheeks with his thumb.
The Hogwarts Expressed pressed on a tad further, making it difficult to hang onto Abbi.
Harry gave her one last embrace through the window before he knew he could no longer hold on.
He let go and watched Abbi, her face out the window like the sea of students saying good bye.
He put his hand to his lips and blew his daughter a kiss, waving as hard as he could…
Harry found himself back in bed with Hermione, the answers to the numerous questions swimming in the morass of his mind. People were counting on him… But, he knew what he wanted to do, for his sake and sanity, and knew it with sewn faith. He put the Quibbler back on the nightstand, gave a clap and settled around his sleeping Hermione.
The lamplight faded out.
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