A look into the career of Ron Weasley, and the choices he must make. Re-edited and updated.
Realizing
Spring 2006
Erik stepped into his flat, relieved his wife wouldn't get home for another hour. He headed over to the vase on the mantle and fished around before he found the thing he hadn't touched in over ten years. The ten-and-a-quarter-inch maple wand felt good, warm, welcoming, like an old friend. With a shaky hand, he scribbled out a note and sealed it in a regular envelope. He hoped it worked with regular paper, he'd been out of the game for too long to remember.
He had thought about this for the past hour. Who to send this to? How to send it? Would it be safe? Well, it had to be done. On the front of the envelope, he wrote the only names he remembered and could trust.
It would get there, or it wouldn't. They would pass it on, or they wouldn't. He could only do what he could. With a pounding heart, he opened his kitchen window and placed the note on the sill. He touched it with his wand and said clearly, "I need an owl, a letter to post." He could only wait.
He put the kettle on, hoping to fill up the time. He tried not to worry, but it was hard. What if things hadn't changed since he left? It's not like he read The Daily Prophet.
He poured himself a cup and waited. It took effort to keep his hand from shaking.
By his third sip, he heard a tapping on the glass. Sure enough, there was a large brown owl. He opened the window and it flew in. "Right then. I don't have an address, but if one of these men is in England, I need this delivered as soon as possible. Bill Weasley or Charlie Weasley. Can you do this?" The owl looked him over and hooted, took it in his beak, turned, and flew out into the early dawn. It was done.
With nothing left to do, Erik turned to the freezer and took out the small package of minced beef. Pasta with meat sauce. That could calm his nerves.
Linda came in just as he was draining the pasta. She was as tired as he was. Working twelve-hour night shifts left them both wiped out but gave them more time together. Afterwards, she was filling the dishwasher when she looked up at the window and screamed.
Erik rushed back into the room. "What? What?" He looked around in alarm.
"Oh, nothing, dear. I just saw a bird in the window. It startled me." She smiled, kissed him and moved around him. "I'm knackered. I'm for a bath and bed, don't stay up too long." She kissed him again and left the kitchen.
As soon as she was out of sight, he rushed to the window and slammed it open. There on the sill was another note. This time, on parchment.
"Scot, so good to hear from you. Yeah, I understand you being in hiding. It was hard times for a while there. Times have changed, thank Merlin. But your note sounded serious so now's not the time to catch up. I'm not with law or the Aurors, but my brother is. This sounds like something he'd want to hear. Can we meet up with you today? We weren't exactly in the same circles at school but try to think of something I would know about you or our time. The owl should be waiting for a reply. Send an address and time, as soon as possible and we'll meet you. Bill Weasley."
A load of weight shifted off his shoulders and landed in his stomach. He was committed now. But he remembered Bill, knew he was someone to be trusted.
"Bill, one hour, 9 AM The O'Malley Pub," He wrote out the address and sealed the note back up. When he opened the window again, the owl flew back in, snatched the note and flew off. The pub catered to the 'round-the-clock dock workers that needed a pick-me-up after grueling shifts. "Honey, I'm going to head down the pub for a bit. I'll be quiet when I come in."
He heard a splash, "Okay, have fun. Lock up when you leave, please."
"Will do, love."
He sat in the back corner of the pub. It was empty, as one would imagine at so early an hour. The dead time mid-shift at the docks. But they did serve a good cup of coffee, and their sweet buns were worth the drive.
The door opened and in slipped his old schoolmate and another tall man who looked so like him he must be another brother. There were what, half a dozen or so? He rose and held out his hand.
"Bill, what was the most scandalous thing to have happened in the lowest level Gryffindor supply cupboard?"
Bill grasped his hand and laughed. "Wally Strand found shagging his first cousin, Mona, said he didn't know they were related."
Erik nodded. "Okay. I'm known as Erik now. Changed m' name when I left. Safety's sake."
Bill sighed in acknowledgement and continued, "Erik, I understand, tough times. This's Ron, my youngest brother. He's an Auror. I sent your note over and he wanted to jump on this right away. I can't stick around, I'm due at work soon, so I'll leave you to it." With that, Bill turned and left, leaving Erik to look up at the tall red-headed Auror. "So, where do you want me to start?" he asked.
"You were at school with Bill?" Ron asked. He settled in and waved for a coffee.
"Actually, I was between Bill and Charlie. I left after sixth year. I wasn't much good at magic, had no family. I had to start earning a living and I could see how things were getting. Straight from the train, I went to Diagon Alley, sold everything I could. Changed my name then got a job at the docks."
Polly, the waitress, knew Erik and his love for the buns so brought over a plate holding several, along with coffee for both. When she left, Ron nodded at him to continue.
"Last night, mid-shift, I was doing my rounds. I work down at the docks. I co-ordinate security and such. Anyway, I drove past one berth and saw a container that had a possible break and was leaking. This was safety issue and could hold up loading. I went up to the closest private security person. It's part of the job I do. Well, I tell him what's what and he looks at me like I'm slime to be scraped off his shoe and he said yeah, yeah, in some eastern accent. I drive off to look for the next emergency and when I came back not fifteen, twenty minutes later, the crack was fixed and the leak was dried. Like nothing happened." Erik paused, waiting for Ron's take on the situation.
"And?" Ron rolled his hand to have him continue.
"Well, this container was the bottom of a four stack. The crack was gone, as if it was never broken, not even rusted. This is a dock. There's always water everywhere. But this spot was dry as a bone. There's no way that could have happened in so short a time. It got me scared."
"Okay, I see the setting, then what?"
"Okay, the security guy noticed I was looking too close and walked kind of, well, menacingly towards me. Again, I'm used to it. But this guy kept fingering his ribcage where I know a lot of you guys keep wand holders. I backed off and told him all was good, then booked out of there fast. Later, I went to the gate, where Border Control inspects containers to keep down smuggling. I noticed another truck from this shipping company drive through. When stopped, the driver waved a stick and then he was just waved through. I knew then what was happening." Erik stopped and took a huge bite out of his bun and washed it down with his coffee. "Something magic is going on and it's not happy charms and pixie dust, if you know what I mean."
Ron nodded thoughtfully. Something was indeed going on. There were rumors of things going in and out of the country, under the disguise of Muggle shipping. No one had any proof. This might be what they needed. "When does this shipment go?"
"I checked before I left, it starts loading at nine tonight ready with the tide. They seem to ship only at night, new moon. That's when we catch the most smuggling operations. But this one gets through the gates without a problem."
Ron checked his watch. "Okay. That gives us twelve hours. Will you be on duty then?"
Erik nearly choked on his last swallow, "Uh, yeah. Seven. I was hoping to stay out of any more, though. I don't want to get on the wrong side of the wrong folk, you know."
"Yeah, I know. Listen, do you have a phone number? I'll get back to you later today, but first I need to meet with my team."
"Sure. If I don't answer right away, leave a message. Sometimes I can't wake fast enough to catch the call before the machine turns on."
Ron could see the coffee was having no effect on the other man, but the buzz was hitting him hard. "It'll be close to five tonight, just so you know. That's when my team comes in." He pocketed the scrap with the number. "Whoever calls you, they'll mention the supply cupboard."
With a weary nod, Erik slid out of the booth and left. Ron threw down several Muggle pounds to cover the buns and coffee. Next time Polly came by with refills, both men were gone.
O0O0O-
"I'm home!" Ron announced as he stepped out of the Floo. There was silence and he remembered that today was Hermione's weekly check-in at the clinic.
Too wired to do anything else, he sat at the desk in the den and wrote up what notes he could. Next came a list of what information he needed. Having known Hermione for 15 years, and married for 8, he couldn't help but become organized. Besides, it was part of his job and he was good at it. He had just hung up his modified mobile when there was a slam of the door and Hermione called out, "Ron? You home?"
"In here," he called. He rolled his chair away from the desk, ready for his wife to settle into his lap. "So, how did it go?"
"Oh, she's still staying put. The way things are going, she might be out in time to go to Hogwarts." She snuggled closer. "Hmmm, this is nice. How did your meet up go?"
Ron slipped his feet up onto the desk, making more room for his wife. "Remember that rumor I told you about? Smuggling? Well, I think we might have a lead on it. An old school chum of Bill's had a few things to say. I'm gonna check on it tonight."
"Hmmm, okay. In the meantime, I think we need a nap. I'm tired and you're…well, obviously, you're not." She started to unbutton his shirt. "Maybe we could take care of both problems."