Tangled

O, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive!"

Walter Scott

Chapter 1

Mission Briefing

A man sat outside, his knees tucked up against his chest as his arms hugged them loosely. A soft breeze ruffled his hair as he sat under a tree looking out into the distance at the sunset and the warm, orange glow that sat resting on the tops of the hills. He squinted as he gazed out on the horizon and realized that if he looked hard enough, he could just see the beginnings of the stars peeking out from the sky.

He took a deep breath in and closed his eyes. His stomach twisted and churned inside him and he tried to focus on something positive; anything to get his mind off of what he was about to do. But no matter how hard he tried, all he could think of was her. It was as though every happy thought and every single memory, good or bad, was linked to her.

The sound of a door slamming shut behind him caused his eyes to snap open. He didn't look back, but he didn't need to; he already knew who was coming. He could smell her perfume, sweet and soft, as it floated over and lingered under his nose, teasing him. The soft crunching sound her shoes made on the dry grass came closer and closer and he felt himself tense.

Please let this be the right thing to do…

She sat down next to him under the iridescent sky and looked out towards the hills to watch the sunset, mirroring him. They were quiet, both comfortable in the silence and just being there together and with a swift pang, he realized that this was something he had always taken for granted; the fact that they were so comfortable together there wasn't always the need for conversation. He tried to soak in as much of the moment as he could, acutely aware of the fact that this probably would be his last with her for a long time.

With another deep breath in, he finally turned to look at her. She was still watching the sunset and he watched as the golden light from the sun bounced playfully off her hair and face, illuminating her perfectly in its fiery glow. A small smile played across her lips as she felt his eyes on her, but she didn't look over.

Merlin, she's beautiful.

"It's amazing, isn't it?"

"What?" he said as he shook his head distractedly.

"The sunset. This year. Everything. It's simply...amazing."

"Oh. Right." He looked back out into the distance again, his mind a swirl of emotions.

"Are you all right?" she asked gently as she turned to look at him, her face etched with worry.

"Couldn't be better."

She seemed unconvinced and frowned slightly as she watched him, but didn't say anything more. Eventually she turned to look at the horizon again, watching as the sun burned brilliantly in the distance. Together, they watched as it slowly descended behind the hills, turning the tiny puffs of clouds pink, as though they were blushing in the sky. Everything was so beautiful and warm, but as he sat there working up the courage for what was to come, he found himself sickened at the sight. All he felt was empty and cold.

"We need to talk."

She looked at him, bemused, as an uncertain smile picked at the corner of her mouth. "Is this why you asked me to meet you outside?"

"It's about us."

Her smile flickered, but she seemed unfazed. "Okay. What about us?"

He stared ahead, determined to keep going and unable to look into her eyes.

"I can't do this anymore."

Her smile faded, and her brow creased in confusion. "What do you mean? You can't do what?"

His mouth was dry and he licked his lips nervously. She reached over and gently touched his forearm, and he felt himself stiffen immediately.

"You can tell me anything," she said. "You know that."

He breathed in again, slowly.

"I…I don't want to be with you anymore."

The silence that followed was deafening. He had thought – hoped even – that she would start yelling at him or maybe laugh. Instead she just sat there, her hand still on his arm. Unmoving.

"Look, things were fun while they lasted, but you can't actually think this thing we have is serious, can you?"

He felt her hand tense up, and knew he had hurt her. Ignoring the sick feeling inside his chest, he pressed on.

"The horcruxes are gone and Vol-" he swallowed, "Voldemort is dead, and I – I need to move on. A fresh start you could call it. I can't deal with any old baggage." He tried to laugh, but it was all wrong; it came out short and sharp like a bark. She pulled her hand away quickly as though she had been burned.

"Baggage..." Her voice was quiet and slow, and she said the word as a statement rather than a question. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to hold her and tell her everything would be all right, but he refused to look over at her and forced himself to continue.

"We had fun while it lasted, but I'm young. I have my whole life ahead of me. I've got Auror training and the joke shop. Besides, you're going back to school for a year…" he hesitated, before adding venomously, "I mean, it's not like we were going to get married or anything."

Yes, you could. You wanted to.

"I want to experience new things and new people – not be tied down to just one person."

Liar. You want to be with her and only her.

"But…I thought…" she stuttered feebly as she struggled to comprehend what was happening. He gave her a quick sidelong glance and with another pang of regret, he noticed the pain on her face.

"What? You mean because we've…" he trailed off before giving another short, humorless laugh. "Just like a typical girl, really. You're all about the romance and the 'happily ever after' aren't you?" He shook his head condescendingly. "Honestly, you're supposed to be smart. How could you not have known?"

She was quiet for a moment, and then said in a voice barely above a whisper, "You told me you love me."

His expression hardened. "I lied."

You pathetic, lying idiot! You do love her! Don't you see what you're doing to her? To yourself?

"I don't believe you," came her voice, stronger – almost defiant.

He opened his mouth to respond, but his voice died in his throat as he felt her soft, trusting hands on his face, forcing him to turn his head. He stared at the ground between them, fearing what would happen if he looked at her.

"If you mean what you say, then say it to my face. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't love me. That all this time together and everything we've been through and shared meant nothing to you." Her voice was steady and controlled. She seemed neither scared nor angry, but resolute.

Slowly, he brought his eyes up to her face. Her expression was determined, but behind her brave façade, her eyes were soft and he could see she was on the verge of tears. All it would take was a few words from him to break down that wall and shatter her heart.

"Well?"

He took a deep breath, pulled her hands off his face, and stared directly into her eyes.

"I don't love you."

Ron woke with a gasp.

His heart was hammering in his chest and he could feel tiny beads of sweat across the top of his forehead. He blinked rapidly, trying to focus his eyes on the blurred, dark room around him and with a shaky breath in, he pushed himself up until he was sitting upright. Grabbing blindly at the nightstand, Ron turned the small, dinged up alarm clock towards him so he could read the time. 4:48 A.M.

Running a hand through his hair, Ron closed his eyes and rested his head against the backboard. He took long, steady breaths in through his nose and blew out through his mouth, focusing on the feeling of the cold wood against his bare skin of his neck. His heartbeat was still racing and he could feel adrenaline coursing through him, making him antsy as he sat there, trying to will himself to calm down.

This was hardly the first time he had relived that particular moment; in fact, it had been a nightly occurrence for weeks right after it happened. And over time, it had become scattered in its appearances, much to his relief. But even still, three years later, the memories of that night still popped up from time to time, haunting his dreams and leaving him shaken the next day.

He took a few more long, steady breaths in through his nose and out his mouth and waited for his heartbeat to slow as he ran an unsteady hand through his hair. Knowing that any hope for sleep was futile, he pushed off his comforter with a grimace and got out of bed, shuffling towards the bathroom to take a shower. He let the cold water wake him up, hoping to wash away the remnants of the night before, then got out and brushed his teeth and his hair before changing into his dark gray Auror robes.

His small, dingy flat had begun to fill with sunlight, casting long shadows across the room as he walked out to the small kitchen space and rummaged around his mostly bare cupboards so he could make some coffee. As he filled a garishly orange Chudley Cannons mug with the steaming, black liquid, a small owl tapped at the window, a letter tied to its leg. Mug still in hand, he let the bird in, and after untying the letter and giving the owl a treat before it took off again, he unrolled the parchment and read its short contents.

Come into the Ministry at 7:00 AM sharp this morning so you may be briefed on your new mission. You will be starting immediately so be prepared to leave shortly after. All details will be given once you arrive.

K. Shacklebolt

He glanced at his watch. 6:30 already.

Oh, how time flies...

With little time to waste, he made up some toast and quickly swallowed as much of his coffee as he could, burning the roof of his mouth in the process. Then, grabbing his wand and making sure his flat was locked, he turned on the spot and Apparated into the main building of the Ministry.

As he walked through the Atrium of the Ministry, witches and wizards hurrying about as they began their work days as well, it occurred to him just how truly strange it was that, even though he had been training as an Auror for just over three years, he had spent almost no time actually inside the building. However, now that his training was complete, he had all but expected to be assigned a boring desk job, especially seeing as he was still relatively new to the department. However, being given an actual mission for his first real assignment wasn't anything to complain about, and he knew it. Most new Aurors weren't entrusted with this sort of responsibility so soon out of training.

With a slight skip in his step, he stepped into one of the lifts, tapping his foot rapidly as he waited for the cool sounding woman's voice to call out, "Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services."

Walking past the many offices that ran down the long corridor, he glanced briefly out the window; with a small smirk, he could see that it had been charmed to be hailing, a sign that the Magical Maintenance crew was still trying to work out proper pay raises.

As he approached the heavy oak door to Kingsley's office, he felt a hand clamp onto his shoulder.

"Ronald Weasley."

Ron turned, a smile tugging at his mouth as he looked into the face of his best friend, Harry Potter. "What are you doing here so early in the morning?"

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," Harry smiled warmly, taking his hand off of Ron's shoulder.

"Kingsley owled this morning saying I needed to be here at 7:00 so I could be briefed on a new mission. You?"

"Same. I wonder if this means we're going to be working together? But, then again, Sean and Tony are here too, and so is Gemma –"

"Gemma's here? Now?" Ron groaned as he scanned the corridor rapidly.

Harry chuckled. "Now, now Ron. You weren't acting like this just two weeks ago. In fact, if I remember correctly, you seemed to want nothing more than to have her around."

"Shut up, Harry," Ron said, before adding in a low voice, "I still can't believe how drunk I got. If I ever do that again, and with a ministry official…" Ron shook his head miserably.

Harry patted Ron's shoulder bracingly. "You had a rough night – it happens. I think the worst thing you have to worry about is some potential weirdness around the office." Harry paused. "How are you feeling now?"

"As well as to be expected I s'pose," Ron shrugged, wanting to change the subject as quickly as possible. He looked down at his watch. "Damn. It's 7:05. So much for 7:00 AM sharp."

"We'd better move it before Kingsley kicks us off the mission before we even start."

Both men quickly walked to the end of the corridor and opened the door to Kingsley Shacklebolt's office. Inside sat Sean McLean, a tall, sandy haired, thirty-something Irish man, Antonio "Tony" Mariano, a robust man in his early forties with thick eyebrows and a hearty laugh, and Kingsley Shacklebolt himself sitting behind a large desk. He hadn't changed much from the first time that Ron and Harry had first met him when they were fifteen; he was still the formidable wizard they had known for six years, but now, as the Minister of Magic, there were definitely more wrinkles on his once young face and also quite a few more scars.

"You're late," he said in his low, rumbling voice as they walked in.

"Sorry—" Harry began but stopped abruptly as Kingsley raised his hand to silence him.

"Now that everyone is here, I think it would be a good idea to get started." Kingsley stood up and turned to a file cabinet by his desk, pulling out two large files, and handed one each to Tony and Sean. "Inside of those folders are the orders for each of your assignments," Kingsley stated as he sat back down again, looking at the four men in front of him. "You four will not all be working together directly, but try not to look so discouraged, Weasley," he said, looking to Harry and Ron. "I know better than to split up the 'dream team' completely." He smiled briefly, and continued. "These assignments are linked together, so it seemed only appropriate that I ask for all of you to be here while we go over the details. McLean, if you would take a look at your folder."

Sean opened it and inside found a large stack of parchment, a map, and a dozen or so pictures of different men and women staring menacingly up at him. "As you can see, you have 15 or so profiles on different witches and wizards that we are after either for arrest or questioning.

"Now, as you all probably know, the Ministry has been investigating a secret organization that calls themselves the International Wizarding Partnership, or I.W.P. for short, for several months. Don't be fooled by their name, however; they are a group of dangerous and ruthless witches and wizards who have been behind the break-in's of some of Europe's most prominent Wizarding companies."

"Any idea who the ringleader is?" Sean asked while flipping through the pile of scowling pictures. Harry and Ron, who stood behind the two men, leaned closer to get a better look at the contents of the folder.

"Unfortunately, no. However, we have been tracking the group's progress and they're picking up steam. While we still believe they are a small contingent, they're growing bolder. Just this last month, we linked them to the disappearance of the shopkeeper of Baubles and Bangles in London."

"Baubles and Bangles? The jewelry store? What would they want with a jeweler?" Sean asked.

"We're not sure yet, but we have a few leads." Kingsley pointed to the papers Sean was holding. "That folder you have details the disappearance and the investigation we've done thus far. It doesn't seem as though the I.W.P. were interested in the actual goods in the store, but there's still too much that doesn't add up. You will be working with the Auror taskforce that has been investigating the break in. You will also find the map included is marked to show the patterns developing across London in the last six months."

Kingsley looked at Harry. "Potter, you will be working with and reporting directly to McLean on this investigation. He will be helping head up the search for these men and women. This is a big investigation and we will need most of our Auror manpower here at the Ministry, but I know you can handle this."

"So, what do you need from us?" Tony asked, referring to Ron and himself. Ron perked up; the thought of being given a job like looking for a group of power-hungry criminals and bringing them down in a heroic fashion was an exciting one.

"As I said before, your mission is closely related to the one I have assigned for Sean and Harry. However, you will be focused more on protection and preventative measures." Kingsley stood up and went over to his window where the hail had progressed into something more like a blizzard. "As you can imagine, with the rash of crimes against businesses in the London area, and now the possibility of kidnappings, we are taking any and all threats made to those in the community very seriously." He turned back towards the group and pointed to the folder Tony was holding. "If you take a look at your paperwork, you will find information about Christopher Rhiney."

"Hang on – THE Christopher Rhiney?" Ron blurted. "The business tycoon?" He stared down at the picture that Tony had just pulled out of the folder. The man in the photo was young, probably somewhere in his mid-twenties by the look of it, and very handsome. He had light, wavy brown hair and big, brown eyes that seemed to twinkle even in the picture, with a strong jaw and clean-shaven face, and a smile that would have put Lockhart to shame.

Kingsley raised an eyebrow. "You've heard of him?"

"Who hasn't?" Ron spluttered. "He practically owns half of wizard London, and has the largest import/export company in Europe. Plus, he was named Witch Weekly's Richest Man in the U.K. and just beat out Harry for the spot of most Eligible Bachelor."

A somewhat stunned silence met this outburst and Ron felt himself go red. "Sorry – my mum – she always has that bloody magazine lying around the Burrow. She's obsessed with the man..."

Kingsley chuckled softly and turned back towards the group, "Well, then it's a good thing I chose you for this assignment, Weasley. What with your insight on him already, there shouldn't be much to tell you."

"But Minister, with all due respect, I still don't see what he has to do with any of this. Are we investigating Mr. Rhiney?" Tony asked.

"No, not quite. As you already know, Christopher Rhiney is one of the wealthiest businessmen in all of Europe. And, unsurprisingly, he has become a top target for the I.W.P. Inside your folder are copies of the letters the I.W.P. have been sending to Mr. Rhiney over the past two months. As you can see, the threats are getting increasingly worse."

Tony pulled out multiple pieces of parchment and studied the different letters before handing them to Ron who read over them carefully.

"Because of this escalating threat, and the continued and steady escalations being seen in the greater Wizarding community, it has become clear that Mr. Rhiney and his staff are in need of additional protection." Kingsley sat back down at his desk, leaning back as he placed his folded hands on his lap. "If this had been something unrelated to the I.W.P. file, we wouldn't be as directly involved. However, as soon as I learned of the circumstances of this particular case, I saw this could lead us to the break in the I.W.P. case we've been searching for. If we can follow Mr. Rhiney and be there when the I.W.P. tries to strike, we may be able to stop them before they can do any more damage."

"So, you want us to tail him?" Ron asked, hopefully.

"We believe the threat to Mr. Rhiney and those closest to him has become too great. Because of this, we need to run round-the-clock surveillance. And I would like for you two," Kingsley nodded to Tony and Ron, "to head this up. The plan at this time is to have Aurors with Mr. Rhiney 24/7, with some even stationed at his home. Mariano, you will run point on this and Weasley, you will be his second. There will, of course, be other Aurors available if you need added security, but the main concerns at this time are Mr. Rhiney's day-to-day business dealings and his safety while at home."

There was a moment as this information sunk in. Ron could feel his brain slowly putting into place what Kingsley was saying.

"You want us to stay at his home, sir?" Tony asked, and Ron found himself looking at Kingsley wide-eyed, finally realizing what he was being told to do.

"Yes. You and Ron are to go and stay with Mr. Rhiney while there is still a threat to himself and his organization. I need there to be people close to him at all times to make sure that all his transactions go smoothly and also to report if there is any odd behavior or anything suspicious happening. With you two there to watch him and his affairs, we are almost guaranteed the capture of some of the members of the I.W.P."

He looked over at the clock on the wall and his eyes widened slightly. "Damn. 7:30 already. Look, I have full confidence that you four are more than capable of handling these assignments. If there are any more questions, you can send word by owl, however I must get going. I have a meeting in ten minutes that I cannot be late for." As he stood, the other men in his office followed in suit. "Weasley. Mariano. Mr. Rhiney is expecting you at his home at noon. McLean and Potter – you can meet with the team investigating the disappearance at 8 A.M. for a more thorough briefing. All four of you will need to make sure to speak with Gemma before you leave, however. She will be your main point of contact here at the Ministry and you are to contact her for any changes or if you need anything."

Kingsley grabbed a long cloak off a coatrack and headed for the door. Before leaving the room, he turned around, and smiled briefly. "Good luck, gentlemen," he said, then turned on his heel and walked out. After a couple of seconds, the four men eventually filtered out of the office and back into the corridor.

Tony immediately turned to Ron. "You and Harry head over to meet with Gemma now. We'll meet you there shortly – Sean and I have some things to go over first." With that, Tony and Sean turned and headed over towards Tony's office.

"Shall we?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. Better to get it done with now," Ron said glumly.

"I don't know why you're so miserable. This is huge! We're working on one of the biggest cases of the year!"

Ron snorted. "No, you're working on one of the biggest cases of the year while I'm stuck playing babysitter to some rich prat."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, come off it, Ron. What you're doing is just as important as what I'm doing and you know it. Hell, you may even find who's behind this whole thing while working for this Christopher Rhiney bloke."

"Maybe," Ron said as they approached Gemma's office door and stopped outside. "But I wish that I could be out there with you, mate. Out where all the action is."

"Well, good morning to you too, Ron," a soft, sultry voice chimed in.

Harry and Ron turned and found themselves face to face with a very pretty and petite woman with long, icy blonde hair pulled high into a ponytail. Her lips were painted a bright red color and she had matching red nail polish, while her robes were such a dark shade of green, they were almost black. Ron could feel himself grimace as her grey eyes looked eagerly up into his blue ones, boring into them.

"Good morning, Gemma," Harry said politely.

"You know, Ron," she said breathily, ignoring Harry, "I had a lot of fun with you a couple weeks ago." She smiled coyly up at him, her red lipstick glinting in the light. "In fact, I was hoping maybe we could grab a drink sometime."

"Erm – look, Gemma, we're here to go over the details for the I.W.P. case, so can you just give us the rest of our mission info so we can go?" Ron asked, his ears burning.

She seemed to deflate somewhat, and responded waspishly, "I can't. Not until your team leads come back at least." Sensing a new opportunity, she walked back into her office. "Why don't you two come in and take a seat." She smiled sweetly and pointed to the two chairs in front of her desk. "Relax. I won't bite. I promise."

With a quick, sideways glance toward one another, Ron and Harry walked in and sat down.

"So, Harry," Gemma sat up straighter, smiling mischievously. "How are you? I heard a rumor you might be getting quite serious with your girlfriend. She plays for the Harpies, doesn't she?"

Harry coughed, stealing a quick glance at Ron, then chuckled. "Erm, yes, she does. And, well, yes. We're very happy."

Gemma clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Well, I find that a bit tragic, really. Witch Weekly might have named this Christopher Rhiney fellow you're all working to protect the most Eligible Bachelor, but everyone knows that the Boy Who Lived will always be highly sought after. You must have your pick of witches."

"Er – thanks?" Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat while Ron snorted, glad to have the attention off him.

A knock at the door stopped all further conversation pertaining to any of their love lives, much to the relief of Harry and Ron.

"Sorry 'bout makin' you wait," Sean said as he walked in, followed by Tony. "What've you got for us?"

Gemma waved her wand and a file cabinet behind her popped open, while two bright purple folders floated out and landed at the edge of her desk in front of Harry and Ron.

"Just more detailed versions of what the Minister told you earlier, plus some rules and regulations as to what you can and can't do, say, etcetera, etcetera." She looked at Sean and Tony. "You know the drill, gentlemen. Make sure to keep detailed notes of all your work, file all your paperwork on time so I don't have to come after you for it, and if anything happens or changes, you need to notify the Ministry, namely myself, so that it can be cleared and covered right away. Now, in your case," she said indicating Ron and Tony, "since you two are supposed to be watching over Mr. Rhiney 24/7, there are a few more things that apply to you that don't apply to Mr. McLean and Mr. Potter. For example, one of you must be within a reasonable distance of Mr. Rhiney at all times. The Minister also wanted me to make it clear this means that you can, and should, consider taking shifts, especially when it comes to staying at the home itself. However, it is up to you two to decide what will be the best course of action. Your meeting with Mr. Rhiney today should allow for you both to gain a better understanding of his day-to-day routines and what will be most effective.

"Really, gentlemen, just use your common sense. That way, no one will have to worry about the Minister's foot being shoved up their arse because they didn't follow protocol."

Tony guffawed. "Duly noted, Gemma. Are we free to go?"

"Yes, just don't forget to take these mission planners." As the four of them got up to leave, Gemma called out, "Oh, and Ron?" Ron spun around, facing Gemma in her office. Alone.

"I just wanted to say good luck with finding your 'action'. Although," she batted her eyes and looked up at him, "I might be able to help you there…" She raised an eyebrow and smiled. Ron, feeling his entire face flush, nodded curtly and walked out, closing the door behind him.

"Bloody hell..." he muttered to himself.

Harry, who was waiting for Ron to come back out, chuckled at the look on his face. "I guess I'd better watch out. From the way she was acting around you, I might have to worry about losing my spot as second most eligible bachelor."

"Bugger off, Harry," Ron snapped.

"It's all right, mate," Harry pressed on, stifling a laugh. "You're a good man and I don't mind losing the title to you."

"I really hate you sometimes."

"Do you think Gemma would make you wear a necklace that says 'My Sweetheart' like Lavender did in our sixth year?"

"Good bye, Harry," Ron said loudly.

Harry laughed. "I'll see you later, Ron. Try to Floo me if you can."

"I will. See ya."

As he watched Harry jog down the hall to meet up with Sean, Ron shook his head. He turned and saw Tony walking up, folders in hand.

"So, Weasley, are you ready?"

Ron took a deep breath.

"Let's go."