For: Week 1 of the Points and Prompts Competition, using the following prompts (I think! Judge's discretion...): Word—day; Character—Hermione Granger; Setting—Hogwarts Castle and Harry Potter Quote—"Clearly, fame isn't everything". Also, I listed the main characters as Ron and Hermione, but really it's more about Harry and Ron, I just wanted to get more views. Shameless, I know.
Disclaimer: I am neither JK Rowling nor Robert Galbraith.
"Isn't that Bill?"
Harry nudged Ron, who looked up from the pile of rubble that had once been the Astronomy Tower, and squinted into the distance. Ron, whose eyesight was much better than his friend's, grew pale. "It is," he confirmed, as the figure continued to jog towards them. They exchanged glances.
"You don't think anything's..." Harry's sentence trailed off unanswered between them, and neither said anything until Bill was within hearing distance.
"Everything's okay!" the elder Weasley called, and the two of them visibly relaxed. "It's Hermione," Bill explained, once he got closer. Both immediately tensed again, and Bill held up his hands. "No, no, she's fine, I promise."
He was, Harry noticed, still wearing his Gringotts robes, and a quick glance at Fabian Prewett's watch explained why—it was only half past eleven in the morning. Quite what he'd been doing with Hermione was unclear, unless something had happened to her and he'd been sent to fetch himself and Ron from Hogwarts, where they were helping with the rebuild of the school. Ron seemed to be thinking along the same lines, as it was to his brother that Bill addressed the words, "Look, I swear on Fleur's life that she is physically fine—she's not been attacked or hurt, nothing like that."
Ron relaxed, but barely. "Then what is it?"
"You know how she wanted to get her Portkeys to Australia sorted today?" Bill asked. They both nodded. "Well, she came to Gringotts to exchange her Muggle money for Galleons so she could pay them at the Ministry, but she didn't have as much money as she expected, and it wasn't enough to afford the Portkeys. I think one of the goblins was rude about it—they still remember what you three did to the bank last month—and...well, I think it was just the last straw for her. She was really upset, she started crying, and...uh..." Bill broke off, looking awkward. "Fleur's taken her home to Shell Cottage to give her a calming draught, but...it'd be good if you could go to her. She'll be fine, she just needs a bit of...well, you know."
"I know," Ron said. "Thanks for telling me!" The latter was called over his shoulder; he was already sprinting towards the gates where he could apparate freely down to Cornwall.
"When you say the goblins were rude to her...?" Harry ventured.
Bill sighed. "The goblins were split during the war—some of them were for Voldemort, some against and some couldn't care less one way or the other about wizards problems. It takes a lot to unite the goblins, but one thing that has managed to is anger at the damage caused to the bank by what you three did—physical damage and damage to its impregnable reputation. Hermione had the misfortune to be seen this morning by one of the goblins who had been sympathetic to Voldemort; I'm told he took great pleasure in informing her that she did not have enough money and refusing her a loan. And with the pressure she's been under about her parents, on top of everything else...well, it's no wonder she cracked. We all have, over the past few months."
"What exactly happened?" Harry asked.
"Oh, she just burst into floods of tears," Bill said. "Luckily, I was coming out of a meeting room at almost the same moment, so I found her, managed to get the story out of her, sent for Fleur and helped her take her back to our house for a calming draught. She was very embarrassed about it all once that took effect and made us swear to tell no one, but I figured fetching Ron wouldn't hurt."
"No, no it wouldn't..." Harry said vaguely, his mind elsewhere. "Bill—do you have a moment? I need some help with something. At the bank."
"I thought you said Bill wasn't coming tonight, Mum," Ginny said, glancing out of the window as her mother ladled stew onto plates. Mrs. Weasley looked up, and saw her eldest son striding down the garden path.
"I did," she said, puzzled.
"I'm not staying," Bill said as soon as he entered the room. "I just have something for Hermione; can you fetch her, Ginny?"
Ginny frowned, but went off to fetch Hermione, who arrived with Ron and Harry bringing up the rear. Pleasantries were exchanged, then Bill got straight to the point. "This is for you," he said, handing Hermione a sheaf of parchment which was stamped with the Gringotts logo. Hermione released Ron's hand to take it, flicking through it quickly, eyes growing wider and wider as she did so.
"What's this?" she demanded, glaring at Bill as though he had personally offended her by handing her the papers.
"A statement of transactions into and out of your account," Bill said calmly.
"I know that," Hermione said. "But where did all this money come from? This has to be wrong!"
"What money?" Ron asked, leaning forwards to read the parchment over her shoulder. Ginny was staring from Bill to Hermione and back again, and Mrs. Weasley's ladle was hovering above the cauldron of stew as she peered concernedly at her eldest son, but it was Harry who stepped forward, clearing his throat to explain things.
"Bill told me what happened today, when you went to Gringotts," he said. "I realised that you must have spent all the money in your Post Office savings account over the last few months, paying for food and such when we were on the run—I certainly didn't have any wizarding money with me, let alone muggle... And that certainly wasn't right, so I got Bill to, uh, transfer the equivalent in Galleons into your Gringotts account."
"But you must have made a mistake in your calculations!" Hermione cried. "There's no way that we spent this much just on food. Did you get your figures wrong?" she demanded of Bill, who held up his hands in surrender. Ron, still peering over Hermione's shoulder, felt his jaw drop as he saw the number Hermione was pointing to. That was a lot of money.
"I'm the guilty one there again," Harry admitted. "I told Bill to work out the cost of Portkeys to and from Australia, and accommodation and food and stuff for whilst you're out there and have that transferred to your account. And you have to take it," he added, suddenly fierce, "or I'll make them give it to charity or—or pour it down the drain or anything. You deserve this. So. Yes."
The ending was sudden and awkward, and for a beat, everyone just stood staring at Harry, until Hermione threw her arms around him, half laughing, half crying. "Oh, Harry, thank you!" she cried, and he patted her awkwardly back. "Thank you so, so much—I know money is such a trivial thing but I had no idea how I was going to pay to get out to Australia and Mum and Dad and oh thank you, thank you!"
Harry laughed, squeezing her tightly, and she finally backed away, her eyes shining. "I mean it," he said. "I can never thank you—and Ron—enough for what you did, but hopefully this'll go a little way towards it..."
Mrs Weasley, whose emotions were always running close to the surface these days, was dabbing her eyes, and Ginny looked delighted, promising Hermione that the two of them would go to the Ministry tomorrow to sort out the Portkeys for her—"Percy will help us, he'll know who to talk to," she said.
"It won't come to that," Harry laughed. "Hermione's the most popular witch in Britain, they'll bend over backwards to help you."
"And quite right too!" declared Ginny.
"So I take it that means you're taking the money?" Bill asked, grinning.
"What? Oh yes, yes of course," Hermione said.
"That's great, you just need to sign where the spaces are so the money goes into your account," Bill said. "I'll take it into work with me tomorrow, so it'll be all sorted by tomorrow morning—no, Mum, I can't stay, I have to get back to Fleur..."
"This is so nice of you," Ginny murmured to Harry, who smiled and kissed her on the end of her nose.
"It is, it really is," Hermione gushed, overhearing. "Oh, Ron, isn't this wonderful?" she asked, beaming up at him as she flipped through the parchment.
"Yeah—wonderful," he said, smiling quickly. "Absolutely wonderful."
Harry felt that something was off the next day as he and Ron trudged up the path towards Hogwarts. After a quick breakfast, the two of them had apparated to Hogsmeade to help with the rebuilding work, but Ron had been fairly quiet all morning, forcing Harry to make most of the conversation. "You know," he said, trying a new topic as they entered the school gates, "if we work fast, and maybe get Nev and a couple of the others to join us, we might get all that rubble cleared away today, so they might be able to start rebuilding the Astronomy Tower later this week!"
"Mmm," grunted Ron.
"Charlie said he'd try to come down and join us later, didn't he?" Harry persevered.
Ron merely grunted in response again, but Harry carried on anyway, listing other people who were coming to help with the rebuilding that day. Truth be told, he was starting to feel quite annoyed with Ron, but he noticed as they passed little groups of people on their way up the drive that they were being stared at, more so than usual. For once, it seemed to be Ron they were pointing to and whispering about, not him, but Ron, wrapped up in whatever mood he was in, didn't notice, and Harry didn't want to draw attention to it.
They hadn't been working for more than ten minutes when they were approached by Neville. Harry greeted him, and he came over to talk with them. "So, how're things?" he asked, after they'd been talking a little while.
"All good," Harry responded, noticing, as he did so, that Neville had seemed to address his question more to Ron than himself.
"How're you, Ron?" Neville asked.
"Fine," Ron said, rather red-faced from heaving a particularly large stone away.
"You're—you're all good? And Hermione too?" Neville asked.
"We're fine, Nev," Harry said. "Why, what's wrong?"
"Have you seen today's Daily Prophet?" Harry and Ron exchanged mystified glances. "Good! I mean, if you haven't. Seen it, that is. And you're all well, so that's good. And...yeah, good. Good."
"That made no sense whatsoever," Harry said, and Neville fumbled slightly.
"There was something in there about Hermione, wasn't there?" Ron asked, slightly quicker on the uptake than Harry was.
"No!" Neville said quickly. They both stared at him. "I mean, yes." He sighed. "They just reported that she was seen looking upset in Gringotts yesterday and that you'd run away from Hogwarts looking angry so your relationship is over and blah blah blah. I know it's rubbish, but I did see you rushing off yesterday so I was just wondering if everything was alright?"
"Well, we're still together if that's what you're asking," Ron snapped. "No one else can move in on her just yet, though Merlin knows that's probably what everyone would like, isn't it?" He threw down his spade and stalked off, leaving Neville stuttering in his wake.
"It's alright—it's nothing personal," Harry said quickly. "He's just...I mean, he's been quite emotional lately, after Fred and the Battle and everything. Something's upset him—not you though, never you—and he's turned into a bit of an arse, as you can see."
"Oh, no, it's fine," Neville said. "I shouldn't have asked, it was probably insensitive and..."
"No! No it's not you," Harry said. "It's Ron. He's being a tosser." He sighed. "I should probably go and talk to him."
"Good luck?" Neville offered, sounding uncertain.
"Thanks mate!" Harry called, as he jogged after Ron. "Oi!" he called, as he neared the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where Ron was loitering. "I don't know what's wrong with you today, but there's no need to be such a wanker to Neville."
"Oh, I'm sure you don't know what's got into me," Ron muttered, kicking out at a tree stump angrily. Harry watched him, saying nothing. He sighed. "Look, I'll apologise to Nev, okay? I shouldn't have done that..."
"He'll get over it, I'm sure," Harry shrugged, and a ghost of a smile crossed Ron's face. Feeling more positive at this, he pressed on. "Look, mate, what's wrong? Is this about Fred or...?"
Immediately, the dark cloud of anger returned to Ron's face, and his hands clenched into fists. "Oh, of course, it's got to be about Fred, hasn't it? God forbid I should have a moment of happiness now he's dead!" The intended sarcasm fell rather flat as his voice broke on the last word, and he fell to the ground, head in his hands.
Harry sat down next to him. "Mate, you've got to stop biting my head off," he said. "I'm trying to help you but I can't if you keep behaving like a complete tit all the time."
Ron leaned back against the tree stump, letting out a sigh. "I'm not sad about Fred all the time," he said, slowly. "I mean," he added hastily, "when I do think about him, I'm sad—really sad. It hurts to even think about him. But sometimes...I feel happy."
"That's okay though, isn't it?" Harry said. "If I let myself feel sad all the time about everything we've lost, I'd never get out of bed in the mornings."
"No, I know," Ron said. "I'm not saying I should feel sad all the time. It's just...the only times I feel happy are when I'm with Hermione."
"Again, you're a moron if you think that's a bad thing," Harry said. "She's your girlfriend, she's supposed to make you happy."
"Yeah, but what about when she isn't my girlfriend?" Ron asked.
"What is she, like a timeshare girlfriend or something?" Harry asked. "Mondays and Wednesdays she's with you, Tuesdays and Thursdays she's with someone else?"
"I don't mean that, you idiot," Ron said. "I mean...when she leaves me," he mumbled the last part; Harry had to strain his ears to hear it.
"Hermione is not going to leave you," Harry said firmly. "She's fancied you for years! And, may I add, she was the one who made the first move in the end—she clearly wants you."
"But I'm not good enough for her!" Ron exclaimed. "She needs someone—someone with—someone rich." The tips of his ears turned pink.
"Oh, come on," Harry scoffed. Hermione was the last woman on the planet who'd turn into a gold-digger and leave Ron for someone with more money, and Ron was an idiot if he thought that was true. He was just about to say that to him, when Ron continued.
"I'm not saying I have to be super rich or anything," he said quickly. "Just...you know...able to provide for her."
"Look mate, Hermione isn't exactly the sort of woman who expects her bloke to be providing for her," Harry said. "She's much too independent for that; no matter who she's with, she'll want to be bringing home the bacon herself, so to speak."
"What does bacon have to do with anything?" Ron asked, confused.
"Never mind," Harry said hurriedly. "The point is, Hermione is just not the sort of person to care if you've got no galleons or a million galleons."
"Yeah," Ron said hollowly, "you say that now. But what about in a few months or a few years time when she realises I can't give her anything? I have about thirteen sickles in my Gringotts account—I can't even afford to take her out to dinner without making her pay for the food. I can't buy her a present for her birthday or Christmas or even for no reason at all unless it costs basically nothing. And I know Hermione's not the kind of girl who'd expect jewellery or bloody expensive clothes or whatever, but that's not the point."
"Well, when you get a job..." Harry said tentatively. He was never really sure how to talk to Ron about money—whilst he had had none at all when he lived with the Dursleys, in the magical world he was laughably rich. And though he would easily have given all the money in his account to the Weasleys, he knew none of them—Ron least of all—would accept being a charity case.
"I've looked into the salaries for Aurors," Ron said, ears turning a pink again. "I dunno...it's something Kingsley mentioned to me, starting us off on the trainee course and I want to do it...but I looked at the salary, and once you take out food and rent, there's basically nothing left over until you've earned a good few promotions. Mum and Dad could never really afford to give us pocket money more than a few sickles on our birthdays, and I'm sure as hell not begging any of my brothers for money so's I can take Hermione on an actual date!"
"Mate, you know I'd give you any money you asked for straight away, and you wouldn't have to pay me back at all unless you wanted to later," Harry said earnestly.
Ron let out a derisive 'hah!', and Harry flinched. His face softened. "Look, mate, I know you mean well, but I just...it's only because of you that she can afford to go to Australia."
"Surely you don't want her not to go, to have her parents stuck out there forever?" Harry asked, incredulous.
"No, of course not," Ron sighed. "And I'm happy for her that she'll be able to bring them back soon, believe me, I am. It's just...when I went to Bill and Fleur's to see her yesterday, she was so upset. She was just overwhelmed, you know—she didn't have enough money and the bank had refused her a loan 'cause the goblins hate us, so we devised a plan to get round it all."
"You did?"
"Yeah, we were both going to get jobs—just little ones, you know, part time shop work and such—even maybe in the Muggle world, and we'd save our earnings and pool them together so that hopefully by the time summer was over she'd have enough to go fetch them," Ron explained. "Then you swanned in saying, 'oh, look, here's thousands of Galleons'—"
"It wasn't quite that much!" Harry said, flushing slightly.
"I know," Ron sighed. "It's the principle of the thing. I want to be her...her knight in shining armour." He blushed. "You know, the one who rides in and saves the day with his money and everything else..."
"Well, okay, fair enough, you couldn't save her by giving her the cash she needed this time," Harry said. "But the everything else...mate, I think you've got that covered. Hermione's in love with you, she wants to be with you, it's got to be for some reason."
"Must be my rakish good looks, yeah?" Ron said with a weak chuckle. Harry grinned. "No, seriously...I just feel like she deserves someone much better than me, you know? Someone like...someone like you."
"Mate, even if it wasn't for the fact that I'm in love with Ginny, there is a long, long list of women I'd rather be with than Hermione," Harry said. "We've been through this. She's basically my sister."
"I know!" Ron said. "And I don't mean you specifically. Just...anyone who can afford to give her the things she deserves. When I used to wear that Horcrux, it used to tell me all the time that I didn't deserve her. And sometimes I still feel that way. Do you think...do you think there's any bit of Voldemort still in me?"
Harry reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.
"The fact that you can still feel what's basically described as 'Holy crap, this utterly amazing woman is in love with me how the hell did I get so lucky?' means you're human," he said. "So you definitely haven't got any Voldemort in you. And speaking of what Hermione deserves...isn't what she wants more important?"
Grudgingly, Ron nodded. "Well, what she wants is you," Harry said. "I mean, personally, I'm quite surprised, because I always thought she was meant to be quite intelligent, but—" He broke off, laughing, as Ron mock-punched him on the arm. "Look, would it make it easier if I didn't give Hermione money anymore? I mean, not that I'm planning on showering her with gold every five minutes, but you know what I mean—do you want me to take back what I gave her yesterday?"
"Merlin, no!" Ron said. "I want her to be happy, and sometimes, you need money for that," he said. "Just..." he struggled for a moment or two. "Run it by me if you're planning on doing something like that again, yeah? It made me feel like a jerk, yesterday, not being able to help her out when you could so easily."
"Of course I will. I'll help you both financially as much or as little as you want, it's not a big deal. And hey," Harry said. "I had to give her money to make her happy. You can do that just by being with her."
"Oh, come on," Ron scoffed, "that's a bit of an exaggeration!" But he was laughing, and Harry joined in, too.
"Look, you're not inadequate, and you're everything she deserves because she deserves someone who loves her," Harry said. "But you are kind of a jerk for yelling at Neville."
"I know, I'll go and apologise now," Ron said, getting to his feet. "Coming?"
"Sure," Harry said, scrambling up beside him. "And why don't we all go down the pub for a bit? I'm sure they can do without us here for a bit."
"That's a great idea," Ron said. "I'm sure the Prophet'll love it—they can take photos of the three of us and tell the world we're having some kind of gay threesome now I've broken up with Hermione. I can't believe they got that story out of me running and looking a bit angry..."
"Clearly, fame isn't everything..." Harry said.
"Didn't Snape say that once?"
"Yeah."
"Oily bastard."
"Yeah. Hey—I'll even pay for the drinks so you can afford to treat Hermione to half a sandwich or something..."
Laughing, Ron shoved him, and Harry stumbled slightly before righting himself and clapping Ron on the back. "It's good to have you back, mate," he said. "Next time, think about your problems for thirty seconds and you'll realise Hermione isn't going to run off with some rich bloke and you can spare us all your bad moods."
"Well, I dunno about not running off with a rich bloke, but she sure as hell isn't going to run off with a speccy, scrawny git like you..."
"Watch who you're calling scrawny!"
"Or what, you'll come for me? Oooh, I'm scared!" And, laughing and joking, they headed back up to the castle, intent on finding Neville, beer, and maybe later, their girlfriends.