Disclaimer: The characters and their backstories belong to J. K. Rowling. I do not obtain any monetary compensation for this story.
This is an exploration Ron's honest evaluation of his actions during a crisis and what that reveals about his relationship with Hermione. Looks like at least 3 chapters
Ron's thoughts are in italics.
Ch 1 - Storm Prep
You'd think that the reception area of Witch Weekly would have a copy of their magazine that was less than a month old. These seats aren't comfortable either. They wanted to do the photo and the interview on the same visit; hazards of a weekly deadline. I guess we'll just have to wait.
There's the Weasley's Wheezes ad. Probably should increase it to a full page since Hermione and I will be on the cover. I'll pass it by George. Always give the partner a veto opportunity. He'll agree, though; I am 'Sales and Promotion', after all.
Hmmm…Cho Chang's interview on her development of the Firebolt X21. It's a bloody fast broom…pretty good handling, now, since they fixed it. She was the design team leader. I see no mention of the team members' contributions, especially Axyl Boot's breakthrough on magically channeling airflow around the rider. Too bad they found the flaw in the dive control after this interview and the release of the broom for sale. Like George says, never scrimp on R&D. Three folks hurt pretty badly. And one's still in…
"Tsk!"
"What?"
"Looks like Cho thinks she's all that and a bag of crisps! Some things don't change"
"Hermione, I think that's due to the questions they ask in the interview and how they edit it."
"Oh Really?! Look what she says; it's all 'I did this' and 'my ideas that'. What an ego".
"She did lead a design team that produced 'the first broom in 30 years significantly reducing the tradeoff of speed for agility'."
"True Ron, but Cho's responses are all about her. No team."
"Well, I hope I can keep my answers from being so self-serving. If it looks like my head's getting too big, just hex me or something. Ok?"
"No worries, my love. Keeping you humble is what I live for."
"Of that, I am well aware"
Right...the interview. 'The Hero of the Remus Lupin Charity Ball' or some such. They act like I stopped those terrorists in the Malfoy ballroom by myself with a single spell or a well-aimed fart. Why did I agree to this?
Dad says it'll show those extremists that we're not afraid. Yeah, sure. Not afraid to paint a target on my family's back. Hermione's hoping it will increase donations so they can buy more wolfsbane potion for poor werewolves, fund research into a cure ….AND lobby for fewer restrictions on careers that werewolves can work in. She rarely mentions that last part around…wait…what's she doing?
"Excuse me, sir. How much longer?"
"I truly apologize, Mrs. Weasley . Ms. Kelso is still at Malfoy manor interviewing His Lordship about the Remus Lupin Foundation. Lord Malfoy requested that background on the charity be provided as a separate article. Unfortunately, that interview was delayed by his late arrival."
"Of course, Hermione, we wouldn't want to inconvenience Lord Malfoy, now would we?"
"Well, Ron, Lucius established and initially funded the Foundation. Don't force me to hex you, before the interview." Damn! Her smile is disarming!
"As you command, my brunette beauty."
"And, again, the dashing hero chooses the correct course of action"
Her hand is warm on my arm. It gives me that tingling feeling every time. Oh, a kiss on the cheek, too. She may as well have used a Confundus charm on me. I'm always …oops…she's saying something.
"What?"
"I asked if you would like something to drink. I'm going to the restaurant next door."
"Um, Mrs. Weasley. There're plenty of complementary refreshments in the crew break room. We provide them for anyone being interviewed. It's right down that passageway, third door on the left just past the women's."
"Thank you. Ron? You want something?"
"Uh…sure. Pumpkin juice with cinnamon?"
"Got it. Be right back."
And she's walking away. I love the way her bum moves. Oh…she caught me looking. Laughing and shaking her head doesn't take away from the movement, thank goodness. That's my favorite blouse. Great memory's attached to it. The photographer chose it from her wardrobe for the shoot. Last June, first time she wore it, I helped take it off her down by the creek behind the Borrow. Sex was a rare thing then, always too busy or too tired, but Mum was watching Hugo and we snuck away. Afterward, bare ass naked, she just lay back on the blanket and I enjoyed the view. Harry got an eyeful when he flew in to ask if I wanted to play Quidditch. She yelped and pulled me on top to cover her, which made it look worse. Ginny had warned him not to look for us. He didn't listen and Gin never said what hex she put on him, but he did have to eat standing up. Hilarious! Thank you, mister photographer. At least Hermione thinks that it's funny now.
Photographer; pictures. Merlin, we must have sat for a hundred pictures. I can't say I'm too happy about the pose chosen for the cover. It looks too similar to that horrible picture in the Prophet the day after the attack. The Prophet photographer's been nominated for an award for 'succinctly depicting the horror of these attacks by Romanian extremists along with the bravery of those who stand against them'. It shows me sitting on my heels with my wand in my left hand and my right arm stained with blood up to my elbow. I have blood smears on my face. Hermione has her arms wrapped around my shoulders to comfort me. There is blood splatter across her gown and on her neck. To the left of us, extending out of the picture is the blood-soaked gown along with the very still hand and forearm of Melissa Xenos. I can't look at that photo without reliving it.
I know exactly when that picture was taken. I was just about to recognize what I had done and what it might mean.
I have to sort this out now, before the interview. I shouldn't have let it get ahead of me. Too much anxiety. That can't happen when I'm talking to Ms. Kelso. Control breathing…in nose…out mouth…in nose…out mouth.
The Department of Magical Law Enforcement, using volunteered memories, issued a report on the attack to the public. Even though it was a simple timeline of events, I have to admit it shows me as the first and main person to take action against the terrorists. I shouldn't have gotten in a fight with Harry about the release. I thought he'd made it biased toward me, but he had me read the transcripts from the witnesses' memories until I admitted that his report was accurate. Now it's worse. Someone in his department leaked our shouting match to the press making me look like a self-depreciating hero. Bloody fucking brilliant!
It's a good thing that a pensieve only reveals actions and not thoughts. Opinions of me would probably change greatly if it did.
That night at the ball, I was chatting up Maxine O'Flaherty about the Harpies' win against the Cannons the weekend before and happened to see Hermione a little ways off behind her. She was in a discussion with Lucius Malfoy and Lord Greengrass. Of course, I was appraising how gorgeous she looked in her ivory gown. Her hips are a little wider now than before her three pregnancies, and that dress set them off very nicely. She says that tighter clothes are a small price to pay to have Rose and Hugo. Hermione's eyes connected with mine and she gave me that little half smile that gets me randy. Lord Malfoy turned and saluted me with his champagne glass and a nod. Maxine twisted around to see what had grabbed my attention, rolled her eyes and said, "Maybe you two should get a room."
Just then, a detonation off to my right had me snatching my wand from its holster and whipping my head around toward the ballroom entrance as the doors exploded open. Why'd they have to blow them open? They were unlocked. Immediately, spell jets fly from the entrance into the crowd and people are screaming. The stunned mob just starts to react near the center of the violence while I frantically look back toward Hermione in time to see blood spraying across the gown as Lord Greengrass falls away from her. Lucius Malfoy is reaching for his wand while pointing toward the back of the ballroom away from the entrance.
Things start happening in fractions of a second. All I can think of is to keep her safe. Best way to do that; eliminate the threat; so I turn back to the entry doors. I yell at Maxine to run while I set up a Protego to divide the ballroom, left side from the right. I use Depulso to shove that shield wall to the left before it dissipates, forcing the crowd with it and leaving me with clear line of sight to the terrorists. Pieced that one together from what I saw of Draco's actions during the Battersea Bridge incident and by reading 'Introduction to the Physics of Magic'. Thanks for the book, Hermione.
The terrorists spot me and attempt to separate but I throw two quick Confringo hexes exploding on either side of their group. Starting toward them, casting Reducto hexes, I see two of their wands point at me as each wizard casts a spell. Twisting sideways I feel the explosion that rolls me toward the crowd on the right. I recover in time to view a jet of light from behind me bring the ceiling down and crush the right hand terrorist under a massive desk that falls from the floor above. Glancing behind me, I spy Maxine already sending another hex at their group.
Three out of the six remaining fanatics turn their wands onto the more populated left side of the room. More screams, I continue hurling Reducto's, breaking their shields to allow other hexes through to the terrorists themselves. Ropes from Narcissa Malfoy's wand drop the one of them to the floor. Continuing forward and seeing his companion try to free him, I send a Reducto toward her. Surprisingly, it doesn't hit a shield and lands at her feet obliterating them. She is blasted back into the doorframe behind her. There are only four left.
Still moving forward and throwing hexes, I'm yelling "Shields, shields, shields" to the crowd and finally see wizards and witches casting protective charms. Maxine continues flinging curses from behind me which keeps me from being the only target. An old wizard takes down a terrorist on the left with a Stupefy followed quickly by Incarcerous. Three to go but now they have to be getting desperate. I'm worried that they will resort to Firestorm, Fiendfyre or something equally monstrous. I'm hoping to end this before they try.
I'm closing the distance to them and the number of curses headed their way is increasing, while I maintain my strategy of Reducto after Reducto, blasting down their shields as quickly as they charm them up. I dodge a curse only to hear a blast and a scream behind me. Maxine is down. No more help there. The terrorists are cooperating better by having one take care of shielding them while the others hurl spells at the crowd.
I finally see my tactical error when a blast from friendly fire throws me on my stomach sliding toward the extremists. They are as stunned as I am to see me lying at their feet. I roll to my right bringing my wand up as a curse hits the closest terrorist, destroying her arm and shoulder. Gore flies onto my two remaining foes as they hurriedly reestablish their Protego against the main group's attack. Before they realize I am still inside their shield, I Stupefy them both. The old wizard, who, it turns out, is the famous potions master Baily Angove, conjures ropes around them as I stand up. Others come up to collect the terrorists' wands and make sure they're all dead or bound up.
According to the Auror department, the time between me setting up the first Protego and dropping the last terrorist was only 1 minute and 16 seconds. It seemed much longer than that.
I scan the room and find Hermione standing next to Mr. Malfoy near the same spot I had last seen her, wand out and eyes wide, staring at me. To say she's wasn't happy with me is a massive understatement.
People are on the ground moaning and crying, which rouses the stunned majority to help the wounded. Hermione sends her otter Patronis to Harry while Mrs. Malfoy sends hers to St. Mungos. The majority of the wounded or dead are on the side of the room where Hermione is standing. It looks like the injured are getting help, and the emergency people should be arriving soon, so I decide to go to her. She doesn't move and, even from this distance, I can see the fury in her eyes.
As I make my way forward, I spot someone weakly struggling under a large man's body. He is obviously dead, a hole in his neck where the spinal cord should be. Quickly pushing him off, I find a young woman lying on her stomach with a bleeding wound in the back of her neck just to the right of her spine. Auror first aid training kicks in and I turn her over while trying to keep her neck from moving. She is awake, her eyes communicating her fright and pain. There is gurgling as she tries to breathe and blood is flowing out of a ragged hole in the front of her throat. I see pulsing, not strong, but it's obviously arterial bleeding. Arteries cannot be repaired if the blood continually pumps out of them. So, I stick my fingers in the hole to look for the blood vessel and pinch it off.
She tenses up with the pain and tries to throw me off her, flailing with her arms and legs. I yell for help just as a man grabs her arms and puts his bulk across her torso. A young witch uses Tergeo to clean blood out of the hole allowing the woman to breathe easier. I find the tiny tear in the blood vessel and place my fingers on either side of it, then press them toward my thumb on the outside of her neck to close off the artery. The carotid arteries are all connected together in the head so both sides of the rip must be pinched off. I look in the woman's eyes, seeing more fear and agony, while I clamp down as hard as I can and shout my request for someone who knows how to repair blood vessels. An older witch kneels down stating that she'll do it. I concentrate on holding the blood back while she waves her wand, knitting the vessel walls back together. Moments later, she says it's done and I release my hold, leaving my fingers there in case the tear opens up again. It doesn't.
Relief begins to wash over me until I realize that I don't feel any pulse in her artery. I instantly point my wand at her chest. "Rennervate"…no pulse…" Rennervate"…no pulse. "Rennervate…rennervate….rennervate, damn it….please…rennervate." I feel tears of frustration on my cheeks as I try again and again. Then Hermione is there, grabbing my wand hand and pulling it down to my side. I sit back on my heels as she reaches across my shoulders and leans against me.
I look down at the dead girl and notice she's younger than I thought. She has long brown hair. Her fully dilated pupils hide her eye color, a sight that causes me to quickly divert my attention her dress. It's a light blue gown with airy translucent fabric added to the top half. I stare at it for a time until it comes to me where I had seen her. She was in the crowd I pushed out of the way. I had put her in the place where she was wounded. I cry out, "Oh Merlin! I killed her; I killed her. She's dead because of me!" I break down, curling my knees to my chest. Hermione holds my shoulder and talks into my ear. "Ron, it's not your fault. You tried to save her. Ron, please listen to me! Ron!" I don't listen. Hermione didn't realize my guilt, but I knew exactly why that girl was there.
"Sorry, I took so long. Had to use the loo. Here's your pumpkin ju….Ron? What's wrong?
"Clemence Fitton, Agnes Ludsthorp, Barnaby Panshawe, Frideswide Chatwyn, Charles Xenos and Melissa Xenos."
"This again? The terrorists killed those people, not you!"
"Right, I only served them up for those bastards. Maybe I should've included a platter of chips!"
"Harry says that many more would have died if you hadn't acted so quickly. For Morgana's sake, Ron, why doesn't his professional opinion mean anything to you?"
"His opinion has a lot of meaning and it does make me feel better about most of what I did. But she was sixteen, Hermione! Her worries should've been if Ravenclaw would win the Quidditch Cup, how well she wrote her potions paper, or what color lip glamor would impress that cute Slytherin boy…not 'When is this red headed man going to stop hurting me?'. Merlin's beard! I'm afraid I'm going to start babbling like this if the right question is asked. I need to work through this a bit before the interview. I feel like the stress that night brought a deeper issue to the surface."
"What issue?"
"I don't know for sure. I need to think on it." That's mostly a lie.
"I could help."
She's reaching to hold me. I can't have that.
"Please don't, Hermione. Every time you comfort me, it calms me down but I also stop considering the problem. I would love to fall into that security, but I won't resolve anything that way. Just let me concentrate on it till the interview, ok?"
"Would you like to talk about it with me?"
"Not yet and certainly not here. It's looking like a very emotional issue for me. If I can figure out the problem, I'll let you know…" Another lie "…and we'll talk."
She's thinking about what I said, chewing her bottom lip. Is she wondering if I'm lying? Please, my love, just let it go. Don't push me to tell. It will only hurt you and, maybe, make you afraid of me. Hell, I think I'm afraid of me.
"Hmmf! Alright, I'll wait. I'll just read while you sort things out. Please don't keep me in the dark for long."
There she goes, getting into the patented Hermione Granger reading position. It's like she takes 'Curl up with a good book' as a literal requirement. One foot or both up in the chair, knees up. Sometimes I think she's crawling right into the pages. I love watching her read. If things get interesting or difficult she puts her hand on her chin or plays with her hair, chewing her lip till she figures it out. Red, swollen bottom lip, Hermione? Must've been a really intellectual book…or you were snogging. I started reading more just so I could peek at her every so often. I'm not sure I would be able to truly enjoy reading again without her.
Well, that's the crux of my problem, isn't it? Those two words…"without her".
"Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley? Ms. Kelso would like to see you in her office now. That door over there. Just go right in."
"You mean the one with the placard saying 'Andrinia Kelso'?
"Yes."
"Thank you"
[Whispered]"Ron, you are such a smart-arse."
[Whispered] "Better than being a dumb…OW!"
Well, so much for working things out, before the interview. I've got to keep my head on straight now.
A/N: Please review! I am unsure if keeping the thoughts in italics is the best way to jump between what Ron is thinking and what is happening around him at the time. That will become important in the next chapter where the interview for Witch Weekly is taking place.