A favorite saying among the recruits is: 'An Auror fears neither death nor the devil!'. However the truth is, that every team leader and the entire department four words fear the most, namely 'we lost an Auror'.
'We lost an Auror' these fateful words spread early in the morning in 2004 like wildfire through the Department. Harry wasted no time and hurried with a few others Auror's and the Head of the Auror Office, Gawain Robards, to the Apparition point, to await there the arrival of the affected team. No one spoke and you would hear a pin drop to the ground. In order to suppress the tension Harry thought hard, which Teams were at present in the field.
Suddenly the typical 'plop' of the apparition interrupted the silence. As the team members by and by arrived, Harry noticed horrified, that these were members of the Alpha-Team, Ron's Team! He threw a worried glance at his boss, who looked at him just as appalled.
Finally, one last plop announced the arrival of the team-leader, Ronald Weasley. Ron nodded briefly to Harry and then informed G. Robards in a shocking quiet voice, that the Junior-Auror Thomas Lewis, despite all efforts, lost in the field his life.
Before Ron led his team from the room, he turned again to Robards and requested, that he and no other informed Thomas's parents about their loss.
When Harry wanted to walk behind Ron, his boss stopped him by squeezing his shoulder. Astonished, Harry turned around.
Robards shook his head and whispered: "Not now!".
Several hours later, the rumor went around, that Auror Ronald Weasley has filed his resignation. Fearing the worst, Harry stormed into the office of his boss and shouted outright: "Is it true?"
Without looking up from his paperwork Robards retorted: "If you mean, that Auror Weasley has terminated, then yes, it's true!"
Harry ran his hand through his hair and muttered: "That idiot!"
His boss raised his eyebrow, but dedicated himself – apparently unaffected by Harry's outburst – still in his paperwork.
Harry leaned his fists on the Robards desk and looked at him forcefully: "Sir, please let me speak to him, I will certainly get him to withdraw his resignation."
Robards glanced up: "This is not necessary, Auror Potter!".
"Sir, I know him, it was just a heat of the moment-thing!"
"You really think so?"
Harry stood in an upright position and said firmly: "Yes!"
Robards turned back to his work: "Then it's good, that I have ripped his termination letter."
Relieved, Harry looked up at the ceiling, as if he wanted to send a prayer of thanks and closed his eyes for a moment.
His boss observed him expectantly.
Just, as Harry was about to leave the room, he turned again to his boss: "Sir, knows Ron, uh, Auror Weasley it already?"
"Since I tore up the letter before his eyes, we can safely assume of that.", Robards sighed tiredly, "As you can imagine, Auror Weasley blames himself, but I told him, that the loss of an Auror in no way justifies a termination, especially one of our best Auror's!"
"How did he take it?"
Robards laid the quill aside, leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest: "Auror Potter, I'm very persuasive, when I want to. He has and he'll to live with my decision. However, I have sent him and his team till Monday in the forced leave."
Harry nodded thankfully.
"Was there something else? Fine, then ...". Robards pointed to the door.
Harry opened the door to the locker room and found there - as expected – his best friend, who was, according to the Occasion, dressed in a dark Muggle-Suit.
Apparently Ron had cleared out Thomas Locker, since he clung with his left hand a cardboard box, which he had placed on his left thigh. In his right hand he held also a silver nameplate, probably of Thomas wardrobe.
Silently, Harry sat down beside him on the bench. "How's his family?"
With a sigh Ron puts the nameplate in his suit pocket "His mother was very brave, but his father had a breakdown." He glanced at Harry: "His parents are Muggles and none of his relatives knew, that Thomas was a wizard, they were thinking, he is…" his eyes darkened", he was a police officer."
Harry asked quietly: "And how are you?"
His friend looked away.
"Ron, I read the report, his death was not your fault".
Ron nodded and pointed to his head: "Here, I know that!", he put his hand on his chest, "but here, I ask myself, if I have overlooked something during the planning of the mission and Thomas could still be alive."
Harry squeezed Ron's arm encouragingly: "Maybe you should Hermione.."
Ron gave him a stern gaze: "She has been looking forward to the seminar and since she is still at the beginning of her pregnancy, this is likely her last opportunity for that. And because of this…"
"No one sends her a message or an owl", Harry interrupted and lifted his hands defensively, "don't worry, against my better judgment, I will comply your request."
His friend stood up and took the cardboard box under his arm: "Thanks, mate."
"Hey, what do you think of, when we later meet in The Leaky Cauldron?"
Ron smiled wearily: "Honestly, today I'm not in the mood for this. Sorry."
"Forbearance is not acquaintance, right!", Harry replied sympathetically and stood up as well, "But don't forget, Friday at 18.00 o'clock at our place. Ginny tries out a new recipe."
"From her French cookbook?" groaned Ron.
Harry nodded uncomfortably: "I'm afraid yes!"
"I think, I have something else in mind for my Friday. The laundry needs urgently to be washed and the dust must be wiped …."
Harry grabbed the lapels of Ron's suit: "Mate, promise me that you'll be there."
"Are there any puddings or ice cream for dessert?"
"Anything you want, but just don't leave me alone - if not for me, then for your godson James. "
"For James, eh? Alright I'll be there!".
Released, Harry slapped him on the shoulder: "Thanks, mate!"
Ron waved over his shoulder and left the room without saying a another word. Distressed, Harry watched after him.
Ron loosened his tie, pulled off his suit jacket and threw it carelessly in the sand. For a while he just stood there, hands in the pockets, and looked thoughtfully at the sea. After one last deep breath sea air, he began to roll up his sleeves and let his gaze searching wander around.
While he bent down and gathered up the stones, he saw from the corner of his eye, that on the horizon suddenly one person appears.
Undeterred, Ron started with the stone skipping.
Bill stopped a few steps behind his brother: "Hey!"
Ron glanced over his shoulder and nodded silently, before he continued with the stone skipping.
Temporizing, Bill stood there and watched his brother. After a particularly good throw, he whistled approvingly: "Wow, you're very good….."
Ron shrugged his shoulders: "All you need is the right technique and …..…."
"But not as good as your big brother", interrupted him Bill with a grin.
Ron snorted doubtfully: "You throw like a girl – oh wait, that's not true, Ginny is a thousand times better than you."
Bill laughed heartily and rolled up his sleeves as well: "So far as I remember, I have taught you the stone skipping."
"Are you sure? Because I believe, it was Charlie!"
"Really? No wonder that your stones bounce only three times."
"Three times? You probably need a pair of glasses, old man!"
"From whom you can still learn a lot, you whippersnapper! See and be amazed!" Bill picked up a stone with a flattened surface from the ground and threw it across the sea. The stone bounced four times above the water surface before it sank. Triumphantly, he stretched his fist into the sky.
"Four times? That's it?" Ron scoffed, and with that, he started the competition in stone skipping.
Later, as dusk already set in, Bill slapped his brother companionable on the shoulder: "Respect, little brother, for today, I give myself defeated. Come on, let's go home. My wife bakes specially for you a clafoutis!"
Ron rubbed his neck: "Perhaps it is better if I – wait!", he frowned, "how did she or rather did you know, that I'm here?"
"Coincidentally, we live here, and so it was inevitable, that your sister-in-law saw you, when she looked out the window on the first floor."
Ron glanced meaningfully in the direction of Shell Cottage, which was behind the sand dunes not visible from this place.
Bill smirked: "Hey, you're just very tall!"
Ron turned to the sea and cast a glance at the now almost black-looking water surface.
His brother nudged him with his shoulder: "Get with it, Ron, Fleur and the children would be very happy."
Ron stroked his stubbly chin: "Mmm, you say clafoutis?"
"With a lot of whipped cream!"
Ron bent down to pick up his jacket: "Okay, I bet I'm there faster than you."
"Agreed, the loser does the dishes – in Muggle way. Are you ready? One, two and three.."
Already during his Auror-Training Ron noticed, how jogging him - after a stressful day - helped by relaxing. He was able to dwell in peace on his thoughts and thereby did his body some good, at least his wife claimed this.
After his usual 5-mile round he looked forward to a cool shower, but as he turned in his property, his dream of a quiet afternoon smashed.
On the entrance stage to the house sat his brother Percy, who awaited him with a sheepish smile.
Ron slowed his pace and finally stopped in front of his brother. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and gasped questioningly: "Perce, what are you doing here?"
Percy held up a pack of 6 butter beer: "Audrey is on a short trip to Paris - you know, shopping for Molly's Christening. And since we are both currently grass widowers, I thought, um, we can listen, um, together, to the radio broadcast of the game between the Appleby Arrows and the Puddlemere United."
Ron rubbed is chin: "Actually, I had other plans for today, you know, a warm bath with a glass of wine and a good book.."
"Oh, okay." Percy stood up and pushed Ron the pack of 6 in hand, "Then I will not disturb you…"
Ron chuckled and gave him pack beer back: "What do you think of me, of course, I'm just kidding!". He opened the door and pushed his brother into the house: "I just jump into the shower and you can meanwhile get the rest of Fleur's clafoutis out of the fridge."
Percy's face lit up and he went into the kitchen. Shaking his head, his brother set out on his way into the bathroom.
Jean yawned behind her hand and put her book aside. She looked lovingly at the two in front of the chessboard sitting men: "Please don't forget again time and place."
"Jean, my dear, I have the feeling, that today is the big day and I'm for once the winner!", exclaimed her husband, his eyes fixed onto the board.
Ron glanced up and winked at her.
She grinned and rolled, unnoticed by her husband, her eyes : "Good luck, honey, but since my bed calls me, I will not be a witness of your great triumph. Ron, clean sheets are on your bed and don't forget, breakfast as usual at 08.00."
His smile vanished: "Jean, this really is not necessary, I can.."
She gave him a stern look: "Hush, no argument, you sleep here tonight, understood!"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Nope!"
Defeated he raised his hands: "Then, thanks."
"So my son, now you know, from whom Hermione has inherited her stubbornness!", whispered his-father-in-law.
"I heard that, my dear!", Jean laughed amused
"And, I'm wrong?"
She stood up and gave her husband a kiss on the head: "But you're, like her, a Mr. know-it-all."
He smirked: "Is it my fault, that I'm always right?!"
Jean gave him a pat on the back: "Stupid fool. I'm going better, before my complacent husb….."
Abruptly her man shouted: "What? Checkmate, but how?" He saw in disbelief at the chessboard, while Ron already in all peace the chess pieces repositioned.
Shaking her head, Jean left the living room, with the certainty, that a few more games of chess would follow.
As soon as he stepped out of the fireplace Potter's residence, his sister embraced him with a firm grip. He saw over Ginny's head at his friend, who shrugged his shoulders. Uncomfortable, Ron patted his sister on her back.
Ginny finally broke out of the hug and she wiped the tears from her face: "Damned hormones, sorry."
He handed her a handkerchief: "Don't worry, Hermione is not much better. One second she could from sheer luck the whole world embraces and in the next she is profoundly unhappy."
His sister apparently not listened to him, because she grimaced in disgust and held the handkerchief with two fingers up: "Your handkerchief was not washed for quite some time, I'm right?"
Ron rolled his eyes: "Honestly, just because it is not snow-white and perfumed…"
"And not clean", she growled and wrinkled her nose, "furthermore it stinks, as if you have a dead animal wrapped in!"
Annoyed, Ron snatched the handkerchief back: "This is no reason for the yelling."
Ginny stabbed him with her index finger into the chest: "I don't yell."
Harry called warning: "Ginny!"
Furious, she turned to her husband: "What?"
He saw at her sternly: "May I have a word with you?". He turned around and walked towards the kitchen. Surprisingly, Ron's sister followed him without protest.
Ron plopped down on the chair. He looked at the handkerchief and glanced quickly to the kitchen door. Now unobserved, he sniffed at it. Oops, it smelled like his socks after a 5-mile run. He put it back in his pocket, with the real intent, to give it as soon as possible in the dirty laundry.
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
"Ron?" called a soft voice. When he opened his eyes, he saw the contrite and at the same time worried face of his sister in front of him.
He smiled sheepishly: "I must have fallen asleep."
She ruffled his hair and grinned: "It's all right, sleepyhead. Now come, the food is already on the table and your godson can be very huffy, when he is hungry."
As Ron her into the dining room followed, he asked tentatively: "And which french delicacies served you us today?"
Ginny sighed in disappointment: "I hope you are not upset, but today you need to be content with the old-fashioned English food, since..." She turned to face her husband with a gloomy look, who was sitting with James on his lap at the table: "my clumsy husband his coffee all over the cookbook spilled and not even a spell could save it."
Harry, nodded guiltily: "I really tried everything."
Ron choked back a sigh of relief and instead gave – and thanks to Merlin, unnoticed by Ginny – his mate a thumbs up sign of approval.
Molly sat down beside her son and watched him tenderly, as he ate his second piece of cake: "I have to say, today you were quickly finished."
"No wonder Mum, finally, just last weekend I de-gnoming your garden."
"Is that right? Tsk, tsk, in my old days, I'll quite a forgetful! Pumpkin juice, Ronnie?"
He lifted his full glass: "I still have."
She stroked a strand of hair back from his forehead: "And you're all alone at home?"
"Not quite, the stupid cat is still there too," he mumbled into his beard, before he took a big gulp from his glass and nodded: "yes, since the beginning of the week I'm grass widower, but Hermione comes back on Sunday afternoon."
"Not surprising that you look so starved…"
He looked down at himself and snickered: "Starved?"
"…why you don't sleep in your old room until your wife is back, so I could feed up you again. Besides Dad and I would be very happy."
He rolled his eyes: "Mum, I'm no longer a young boy.." – "You'll always be my little boy, Sweetie!" – "That may be, Mum, but now I'm an adult and can take care of myself all alone."
She patted his hand: "I know, I know, but for me you will always be my babies. Wait until your own child no longer needs you."
Ron grinned at her: "Mum, we need you always." Conspiratorially, he glanced left and right, bend forward and whispered to her: "Please, don't tell that to your daughter-in-laws or Ginny, but none, not even Fleur, can cook as good as you."
Molly pushed her son playfully in the shoulder: "Ah, as a cook I'm good enough?!"
He leaned back in the chair and stroked satisfied over his stomach: "Your baking skills are not without, too!"
"Speaking of, how about another piece of cake?"
Her son looked at his watch and frowned: "Bloody hell.." – "RON!" – "Sorry, Mum, but I have to go, the work calls."
Molly asked confused: "I thought you were on leave until next week". Ron cleared his plate from the table and placed it in the sink: "I'm, I'm. Your son Georgie-Porgie need my help."
He pressed his mother a kiss on the cheek and before his mother knew what was happening, Ron disappeared in the fire place.
George tapped his fingers nervously on the counter and watched his brother, who flipped bored through his Quidditch-Magazine 'The Snitch'. He cleared his throat: "I don't understand, why is so little going on."
Ron tossed the magazine on the counter: "I do, none holiday season, ergo none students..", he pointed his finger at himself, "ergo Ron goes now home!"
All of sudden, Angelina called out of the office: "George, don't forget, the inventory needs to be done."
George snapped his fingers: "Right, the inventory." Beaming, he put an arm around Ron's shoulder: "I'm afraid, that you need to stay, Ickle Ronniekins, until we have received all the stocks and that can take."
Grumbling, Ron followed him into the storage.
"Home sweet home!", Hermione hummed contentedly and set down her bag. She already opened her mouth, to call for her husband, when she saw him and Crookshanks, who was curled up at the foot end, lying asleep on the sofa. She sat down on the sofa edge, leaned over to her husband's ear and whispered: "I'm back!"
Just as she wanted to give him a greeting kiss, he grumbled sleepily: „Who?".
She pinched his nose: "Of course your loving wife, my won-won, or whom you expected?"
Her husband opened his eyes and furrowed his forehead annoyed: "Not funny! I mean, who was the telltale!"
Hermione knitted her brows and looked at him confused: "Telltale? It's all Greek to me."
He folded his arms over his chest "Come on, Hermione, you know exactly, whereof I speak. " – She shook her head – "The only reason why you're prematurely back from your seminar, in fact ..", he held up two fingers, "two days earlier, that can only mean one thing, someone must have talked to you."
"It's forbidden, to have such longing for my obviously grumpy husband, that I just wanted to leave?"
He raised an eyebrow and looked piercingly (with his famous and notorious, and very sexy, Auror-Look) at her.
She rubbed a hand over her face and sighed defeated: "Alright, I received yesterday an owl.."
"From Harry, the Git, I'm right?"
"And it does not matter by whom.."
"Or Mrs. Hormone-overdrive", he muttered thoughtfully.
"It's, uh, sorry, what did you just say?"
"Mrs. Hormone-overdrive, Harry's new nickname for Ginny."
"Oh, should she ever hear that.., wait", she lightly punched his arm and scolded, "don't distract me."
He nodded contritely.
She grabbed his left hand and her fingers started playing with his plain wedding band: "It's much more importantly, why not my own man did not tell me about what happened. On the contrary, every time I have spoken to you, I only heard, I'm fine or no special events at work."
He objected: "I'm fine."
She looked at him dubiously: "Then why you wanted to terminate?"
He blushed and rubbed with his free hand his neck: "You've all heard of it too."
"In a roundabout way, yes. "
He intertwined his hand with her's: "All right, I tell you everything. But first…" inviting he held up the wool blanket.
"Is thereunder still room for two more? I mean, with…" Hermione grinned and pointed with her chin at Crookshanks, as she stroked gently over her baby bump.
Ron pulled her to him and cast a glance at the cat: "I think Crookshanks and I can live with it, right buddy?" Crookshanks opened briefly one eye, which probably meant as much as a consent.
After Hermione snuggled against Ron's chest under the blanket, he told her of the terrible accident of Thomas Lewis, how many reproaches he had made himself, finally, Thomas was fresh from the Academy, therefore had no experience: "And all I wanted, was to hide myself and buried in self-pity, but since constantly one of my family members wanted something from me, I had no opportunity for that. It was almost…", he stopped and his eyes widened.
Hermione lifted her face from his chest and looked at him questioningly: "It was almost..?"
"As if they have made it to their task, not to leave me for a second out of sight.", he whispered and shook his head in disbelief: " They're in cahoots together. Harry, Ginny, Mum, George, Angeline, Bill, Fleur, your parents, the whole family!" He laughed softly: "I admit, I was a little suspicious, when Percy showed up with the butterbeer, but I must confess, actually I have noticed nothing of it. They were really good."
"And," she asked softly, "it worked?"
His eyes gleamed suspiciously and he nodded: "No chance for self-pity."
She leaned forward and kissed him: "Thanks to our family!"
"Thanks to our family" he confirmed.
