Good News Chapter 3
by Xelan (devote Harmonian)
Dislaimer: I own nothing. All recognizable characters are owned by their respective owners.
A/N: See notes from chapters 1 and 2. Bashing ahead.
A/N Succinct version: Hated Jo's ending, my Hermione's middle name is Jane, dislike several Weasleys, and Harry and Hermione are fated in my opinion.
Please review as comments and criticism help fuel the creative process.
<::::}]Present Day[{::::>
"Out! Out! Get OUT OF MY HOUSE! Thrice damned, red-headed arse!"
Ron was slowly backing towards the door. "Now Nev, be reasonable. How was I supposed to know she was your mistress?" His hands were up in a placating manner.
Neville pulled his wand from its holster. The glare on his face could have melted steel. "Concubine! Now, I told you to get out and you're still here, so I'm going to break your fingers and THEN I'll THROW you out!"
At this point, Ron had tripped on the rug, fallen on his arse, and was frantically trying to scramble backwards toward the door. "Come on Neville, how could I have known she wanted me to stop?"
Neville stomped forward, wand drawn menacingly. "Yelling 'NO' and 'STOP' should have been your first clue!"
Ron gulped loudly. He barely dodged out of the way of a nasty looking yellow curse. Girls don't actually mean no when they say no, at least none of the girls he'd ever met had. Things were so complicated these days. All he wanted to do was find Hermione so he could get started on that family his Mother was always harping about. An even dozen sprogs should make her happy. After all, Hermione wasn't much to look at, but he'd heard things during his travels. Muggle women were supposed to be easy. Easy how, he wasn't sure, but anything easy was good in his book.
*BAM*
Ron's back collided against the closed front door. He turned around and frantically tried to work the door knob. Stopping when he felt a tap on his shoulder, he turned around for quick look.
Wand tucked safely behind his ear, Neville drove a gut busting punch deep into Ron's stomach. Ron went down to his knees cradling his stomach with tears in his eyes. Neville bent down and in a harsh voice said, "If you had done what you intended, all that would be left of you is a pile of potting soil. As it is, if you come near her again, I'll let Harry deal with you. He's very fond of Luna and once he hears what you tried to do, well you remember what happened to Voldemort?"
Whining pitifully, Ron choked out. "How could you mate? We're supposed to be friends. We fought a war together - how could you take her side against me!?"
Neville straightened up. Brandishing his wand, he flicked it once and the door opened wide. He looked down at the prone form of Ron Weasley. "Because we WERE friends once, I'm not going to end you here and now, but do not let me see you EVER again." He took a deep breath and in a clear, authoritative voice declared, "Ronald Bilius Weasley, for your actions you are declared an enemy of House Longbottom. Be warned that you are not welcome on any Longbottom land or property and that your children and your children's children (God save them) will be shunned and reviled for your actions this day." In a less formal tone he added, "and if you come sniffing around again, the wards will be set to maim and the finger breaking is still on the docket."
Ron whimpered.
"Now, for the last time, GET OUT!" growled Neville. He flicked his wand once again and this time a flock of mallards appeared. They began to swarm the pitiful excuse for a person, biting and scratching and flapping their wings in his face.
Ron howled terribly and fled from the Grimmauld house as quickly as his legs would carry him. The mallards followed for several city blocks.
Closing the door, Neville went to the fireplace and tossed in a bit of floo powder. "Ginny" he called out.
After a moment, Ginny's head appeared in the fireplace.
Neville looked grim. "He's back and he's looking for Hermione."
Ginny snorted slightly. "Just Hermione?"
Neville allowed himself a smirk. "And Harry to a lesser extent; though, he mainly wants Hermione. He has good news for her that he thinks will cause her to jump at the chance to marry him."
Ginny laughed outright at that news. "Do tell. This I can't wait to hear..."
<::::}]Trust - Approximately 3 years before present[{::::>
"Hermione! Over here!" called Ginny. She made her way over to Hermione amidst the unusually packed main lobby of Gringotts. Normally, the cavernous, vaulted ceilings left customers feeling insignificantly small, but the holiday shopping season meant they had to wade through a teeming throng of witches and wizards.
"Good to see you, Hermione." intoned Ginny. A light embrace was customary and fortunately she'd mostly gotten over her jealousy regarding Harry. Speaking of Harry... where was he? "So where's your better half?" she said with a smirk and a subtle dig. "We have some urgent business matters to discuss."
"Oh, I know all about that." Hermione responded. A kind smile graced her face. "Harry's running late due to a mishap with a prisoner transfer. He asked me come meet you and explain the situation... but out in the open probably isn't the best place for this, is it?" Taking Ginny lightly by the arm she began leading her to a side corridor that Ginny hadn't even noticed until she was walking down it.
Ginny was shocked. Harry had TOLD Hermione about her money problems, the bad investments, and her latest project to make herself self-sufficient again. He had promised to be discreet and then he had TOLD Hermione! To make matters worse, Ginny had heard stories of tunnels like these; private rooms and hidden corridors under extraordinarily strong enchantments for the richest and most ancient of families. The more space you had, the higher in esteem you were held by the Goblins... and to a Goblin, esteem meant gold; lots of gold. They had been walking for several minutes and Ginny could no longer see the corridor entrance and Hermione looked perfectly at ease.
Finally, Hermione lead Ginny to an impressive set of double doors. The Potter crest was emblazoned prominently across both doors with the four copies of the Gringotts seal embossed but considerably smaller at each corner of the doorway.
A hand sized rectangle was offset just to the right of the Potter crest. Hermione placed her hand upon the door and the sliding of metal, as heavy duty locks slid back into their recesses, could be heard. The doors swung open with a melodramatic creak.
The room was huge! Ginny couldn't hide her amazement as her eyes took in the room. The Potter wealth had to be substantial for Harry to rate this kind of luxury. She doubted the Malfoys could have warranted even a tenth of this space even before Lucius frittered away most of their wealth in bribes and back room deals. A large board room style table with plush leather chairs occupied one side of the room and a half dozen smaller work tables with chairs occupied the other end. In the middle were several sectionals, two-seaters, ottomans and one well used chesterfield. Hermione began to walk toward the chesterfield and Ginny followed. Around the room, Ginny noted several book shelves with a large number of them situated suspiciously close to chesterfield they were now seated upon.
Hermione settled into her favorite seat in the entire lounge and gave a sigh. Oh, to be able to just sit a read for a while. Wouldn't that be grand? She reached out to a hand bell sitting just off to the side on an end table and gave it a light ring.
"Yes? Lady Potter." asked Slipknife, the youngest goblin Ginny has ever seen. He had somehow just appeared when Ginny had blinked.
"Thank you for coming so quickly Slipknife. Miss Weasley and I have some business to discuss. Could I impinge upon you to send down some hot tea and some of those pumpkin scones Harry is so fond of?"
"Of course, Ma'am. Will Lord Potter be needing a place as well?
Hermione bit her lip as if considering the possibilities. "I think it would be best if there was enough for him as well. He's working late, but he said he would try and be along shortly. You can never tell with these things." She smiled at him.
"Very well." He turned to go, but thinking better of it, he turned back around and cocked his head. "Would the Lady Potter care to try a new popular dish from the kitchens?
She raised a brow. "What sort of dish?"
He smiled a toothy grin and answered, "Forced Heron." The young goblin lowered his voice and began to speak in a conspiratorial tone. "To be honest, we find it to be in horrid taste. An extremely popular author requested we prepare it to her instructions and now all the mindless sycophants order it at every opportunity. Truthfully, I don't think it would suit you Lady Potter.
"Then why ask her?" blurted Ginny.
Slipknife gave a small sneer and answered. "Because it is good business to sell bad ideas at expensive prices if the public will pay. Which is why it is policy to offer it even if we are certain our better customers will almost certainly decline."
"I believe you are correct, Slipknife. Heron doesn't suit me in the least. In fact the very idea turns my stomach. Could you please also send some digestives along with the scones?"
Slipknife bowed low and when Ginny blinked he was gone.
"Lady Potter? When did you and Harry get married and how in Merlin's name did you keep it a secret from everyone?" she demanded.
The impatience in Ginny's tone made Hermione start for a moment. "Of course we aren't married, Ginny. We're best friends. Have been since we started Hogwarts, you know that. The whole 'Lady Potter' thing is just the goblins having a bit of fun."
Ginny was noticeably skeptical. She'd never heard of let alone seen a goblin with a sense of humor. "That makes no sense, Hermione."
"Believe me, I've tried to get them to stop dozens of times, but they insist on calling me that. I suspect it has something to do with Harry arranging for me to have access to this room as well as the Potter vaults and other properties."
Ginny's eyes went wide at that statement. Judging from the room alone, Harry had to be one of the richest wizards in Britain... if not in all of Europe or even the world. "Total access?"
At that question, Hermione ducked her head, looking embarrassed. "Yes..."
Ginny leaned back into the soft, overstuffed cushions. Absently, she murmured. "That's a lot of galleons."
Offhandedly, Hermione replied. "Yes, but we try not to focus on the money so much as how we can use it to help others. Speaking of which, did you have the agreement for Harry to look over?"
Still somewhat stunned, Ginny nodded weakly and handed her a large rolled up parchment. Hermione gracefully stood and went over to one of the better lit work tables to go over it.
"I thought we were waiting for Harry? It's a considerable amount of gold to invest and, well, it's a little embarrassing..."
Hermione dismissed her concerns good-naturedly. "Not to worry. Harry would have talked it over with me anyway. We decided earlier, that if he didn't make the meeting on time, that if I agree with the particulars then I was to go ahead and authorize the funding. Just relax, have a scone and drink some tea. It won't be more than a few moments while I go over this version."
Ginny blinked and realized her right hand held a cup of tea and her left held a hot scone with jam and clotted cream. "When did I...?" Suddenly, she felt a presence behind her - she turned and saw Slipknife standing with a tray of tea and scones.
"We address the Lady Potter as we do because that is who she is. She is the Lady of House Potter and whether she is married or no in a legal a sense is immaterial. The charms in this room and corridor, the wards on the properties, and the enchantments on their vaults all recognize her right of access. Indeed, a normal marriage would not come close to giving her the unrestrained usage of all House Potter resources that she currently enjoys. Nor would that same marriage afford Lord Potter the open access he enjoys with her personal properties."
"Why are you telling me this? I thought goblins never volunteered information."
Slipknife sneered once more. "We give information when it suits us. Lord and Lady Potter are goblin allies. Together, they saved Chief Ragnock's life from Voldemort. We honor our allies and mind their interests." A knife, much like his name, slipped into his hand, but Ginny did not notice, so enthralled by the glare of his eyes.
Suddenly, she felt the edge of a knife against her throat. It was far too sharp to be butter knife.
"Be aware, that as their friend, you are afforded certain courtesies ... ANY that enter these corridors uninvited or with a mind for mischief will find themselves confronting worse things than dragons in Gringotts.
As suddenly as it appeared, the knife was gone and Slipknife was smiling another toothy grin.
"More tea, Miss Weasley?"
"I think I've had enough" she said very earnestly. Now if only my heart would stop beating so rapidly. I never really had a chance, did I? But I guess I already knew that.
<::::}] 6th year at Hogwarts[{::::>
"We won, Harry! We won!" yelled Ginny Weasley as she burst through the portrait opening. She had been biding her time for years, dating handsome boys throughout the school to make him jealous, and finally, finally! He would be hers. The quidditch win would clinch it. What boy could possibly resist a body like her's, coupled with her devotion and athleticism?
Much to Ginny's dismay, Harry wasn't waiting for her in the entryway. First, Harry hadn't shown up at the match, so he hadn't seen her humiliate the rival seeker or how she single-handedly won the game for Gryffndor. Now, he wasn't waiting to welcome her like the conquering hero she was. Instead, he was sitting with Hermione Granger and ignoring HER. The very thought of Harry, her destined boyfriend, lover and future husband , her Harry passing up the chance to watch Ginevra Molly Weasley shine in favor of talking with some tatty little mudblood of a muggleborn made her burn with the injustice of it all. He should be paying attention to HER! After all, he risked his life to save her from the possessed diary, literally faced a monster and a basilisk in order to save her. What surer sign could anyone ask for? Their love was destined since they met on his first ride to Hogwarts, they were fated since the day she got her first Harry Potter doll, they were kismet since EVERYONE knows Potter men are hopelessly attracted to red hair.
He didn't even look up from the chesterfield where he was sitting close to Hermione in deep conversation. Evidently, Harry had been discussing something with Hermione that was so very important Harry couldn't afford to be interrupted, not even for Ginny's sake. No matter, thought Ginny. "Once we're official, I'm sure he'll tell me all about it. We'll tell each other absolutely everything and become so close that people will think we're like Harry and Hermione...
That thought brought her up short on her brisk march to claim her man. Why had she coupled Harry and Hermione together in her head? It should be Harry and Ginny, not Harry and Hermione. Harry and Hermione just sounded... right? NO! No, no. Mustn't think crazy thoughts. That's just the rush of the victory wearing off. She gave her head a little shake and then was stood right in front of Harry. He hadn't even noticed her yet. A thought came unbidden to her mind, They really do look good together... shocked at her own subconscious, she ruthlessly smashed the erstwhile thought with a mental bludger. Pasting a bright and happy smile on her face, she deliberately thought, WE'LL look even better together and somewhere in the far corners of her mind another, smaller voice added, I hope.
She cleared her throat a few times to get his attention. When that didn't work, she cleared her throat again but several times louder. When she finally sounded like she was going to hack up a lung, Harry turned and lifted his head to face her.
"We won, Harry! We won!" yelled Ginny. She grabbed an arm and pulled him to his feet. She was literally bouncing with enthusiasm again. It was in the spirit of that enthusiastic fervor that Ginny grabbed both sides of his face and yanked his lips towards her. Harry never let go of Hermione's hand.
The shock of being hauled to his feet, and kissed by Ron's little sister was tremendous indeed. His grip on Hermione's hand had actually slackened for a moment as he struggled internally on whether to hex her immediately or wait for an explanation and THEN hex her.
Hermione had been dragged to her feet by Ginny's actions and so was standing close to Harry, their joined hands, spelled with a notice-me-not charm, went unremarked upon. Harry's grip on her hand was once again rock solid. It would take more than some trashy, little bint to break the two of them apart. She knew she had nothing to worry about regarding Ginny, but that didn't prevent her from glaring darkly at the younger girl.
Ginny was confused. Something was wrong. She had her arms wrapped comfortably around her Harry's neck, check; lips pressed firmly upon Harry's lips, also check; passionate tongue battle with dreamy soon-to-be boyfriend, not checked; Harry's arms lovingly embracing her lovely, athletic body while he snogs the living daylights out of her, also not checked; a passion to be remembered throughout the ages building into a furor in her breast that could outshine the stars themselves, no - that's not checked either. No... she thought, despair filling her heart where she had expected boundless passion and joy would be. It's like, she wanted to cry. It's like kissing..., it SO wasn't fair. It felt like kissing her BROTHERS... Stiffly, Ginny pulled her head back and opened her eyes to behold Harry's handsome, scowling face. She licked her lips nervously then shut her eyes as a grimace of disgust and rage found its way onto her face. It felt like kissing RON - oh Merlin, she felt nauseous at the memory.
Harry took his free hand and vigorously tried to remove every trace of the red-headed tart's attempt to rape his mouth. A shiver of disgust ran down his spine. Thoughts of numerous hexes and long duration jinxes filled his mind. After Hermione mercifully provided him a number of breath freshening charms, he finally felt clean enough to function. Harry enveloped Hermione in a tight embrace. He whispered emotionally in her ear. "Thank you! I have never felt so dirty in all my life. Even clinging to a troll didn't come close..." He breathed deeply, finding his calm he turned back around to face Ginny.
Her feet unsteady and her stomach churning, Ginny Weasley, girl voted by her class as most likely to see the inside of every broom closet in Hogwarts, staggered to toward the girls dormitories. Her left arm wrapped around her stomach, her right hand clamped tightly over her mouth. She just needed to get to the loo and she'd be alright. It was not to be.
Ron stepped into the room. He was of three minds... well, actually he only had one mind (if only just barely) but he was conflicted three ways. On the one hand, his team had won so he should feel happy, but on the other hand he had performed miserably as a keeper and it was only thanks to his bratty little sister that his team won, so he thought maybe he should feel jealous. Jealousy was a familiar emotion for Ron and he had plenty of practice being jealous. Kind, loyal, respectful, polite, caring and empathetic had always given him major trouble, so he was really leaning towards feeling jealous. On the last hand (he has three hands? must be so he can shove more food down his pie hole) Hermione hadn't been at the match. Probably studying - the bossy little bookworm. On the up side, since she didn't know how badly he had played, he could lie for all he was worth and really make himself look good. That would get the bucktoothed little know-it-all worked up and excited and he would finally be able to steal her away from Harry. But the down side was since she wasn't at the match then she might have been with Harry - though why she'd want to hang out with a scrawny little pipsqueak like Harry when she could fawn over a magnificent specimen of pure-blood breeding like himself was a question that was completely beyond him.
He bit into the mince pie he'd 'liberated' from the kitchen on his way back from the match. Suddenly, a red-headed someone stumbled into him at a brisk pace and nearly knocked him over as he made his way across the common room. Not caring about the person falling to the ground, he clutched his mince pie securely and steadied himself.
Ginny was starting to feel dizzy. She just wanted to make it to the loo, make use of the facilities and then rest her cheek on the cool tile work. Then she bumped into a sweaty, smelly excuse for a person in quidditch robes topped with an unsightly mop of red hair that closely matched her own. As she fell to the floor, upon closer inspection she realized it was her brain-dead brother who talked a good quidditch game but was hopeless when it came to delivering. His face, always a mess, was now covered in crumbs and pieces of mince pie. The sight of Ron Weasley eating can cause even the most iron walled stomachs to churn unsettlingly; the sight of Ron Weasley eating was leaps and bounds more than what an already nauseous Ginny could take - Weasley or no.
*BLEARGGGHH!*
Ginny forcibly emptied the contents of her stomach all over the front of her brother's quidditch robes; covering the front, his trousers, her feet and even her own boots. The distance and the aim were quite impressive. Harry probably would have clapped if he hadn't been laughing so hard.
Hermione wasn't one to laugh at the misfortune of others. Least of all when one of those 'others' was a friend... well, maybe not a friend, but a friend of a friend. So...he was more of an acquaintance then, really. Struggling mightily to keep her rising mirth under control she glanced at her very best friend in all-the-world. Harry was laughing so hard that sparse tears were beginning to run down his face. If Harry could laugh at his 'best mate' then Hermione could really see no issue with enjoying a good laugh at the expense of someone who was at best an acquaintance and who coincidentally always took the time to belittle her interests, whine about how she acted, and generally act like a world-class prat. Oh how she did laugh.
In the end, Harry and Hermione ended up hanging all over each other, laughing until tears were streaming down their faces, and futilely trying to keep each other standing. They eventually succumbed and slowly slid to the common room floor, still in each other's arms.
<::::}]To Be Continued[{::::>
Please review as comments and criticism help fuel the creative process.
A/N: Yes, I did have Ron savaged by a duck. I find, and this is just my opinion, that playing around to make the person you like jealous is immature and does a disservice to all parties involved.