Chapter Three: Connections


April 27, 2009-Her

Ron's Flat

I had been staying with Ron for a week. The two of us went about our daily lives in amicable silence. There was only one mishap when another set of men had tried to get into the hospital looking for me a few days ago. Ron had been keeping a close eye on me since then. He was waiting for the moment these people entered the flat to come after me.

"Do you want some fish and chips?" He asked. I shook my head. My gut told me that fish wasn't a good idea. I stuck to my instinct.

I watched as he made himself a plate, sat at the table, and ate quietly. I wondered about him. I could tell that there was something strained between him and Hermione. They were best friends, true, but something else was going on there.

When he was finished eating, I decided to try and talk to him.

"Ron, can we talk?" I asked cautiously. What was the proper way to pry into the life of the Auror who was protecting you?

"Sure," he answered eyeing me.

"What was your life like before this assignment?"

He sighed, but replied, "It's a bloody long story. You sure you're up for it?"

I nodded my head.

"Okay, well I guess I should start from the beginning. I'm the sixth child out of seven. All of my older siblings are brothers, and you've met Ginny. The first eleven years of my life are uneventful, and then I got my letter to Hogwarts. That was my school. It was on the train there that I met Harry and we've been best mates ever since," he explained.

I listened as he recounted tales from his youth. He told me about fighting a troll and befriending Hermione. There were stories about a wizard named Voldemort. A name that seemed familiar to me, but alas I couldn't recall why. Voldemort had deemed Harry as the 'Chosen One' and his best friends stayed loyal to him. Well at least for the most part. Ron told me some stories where one of them was fighting with the other and it would cause problems, but in the end, it was the three of them. He talked about their first year of school and how they helped Harry past a bunch of charms and spells to get to a stone. His memories of his second year were sad because his sister had been hurt by Voldemort's diary. It made me respect the girl even more. He spoke about all the deaths, Hermione's husband's task, and their time in the woods.

I sat through all of this talking and was riveted. He ended the stories with Hermione's return to Hogwarts and eventual marriage to their childhood enemy. I understood the rift between them now. You never get over your first love completely.

His stories ended happily for everyone, but him. Both of his best friends had gotten married and had children. All of his siblings, except the one who died in battle, were settled.

"Why didn't you ever try dating again?" I asked.

"Blimey, I think I just forgot about it. I got so involved with all the Auror stuff," he answered.

"I wish I could remember more for you. I could get out of your place. This way the case would be over and maybe you could think about dating," I said guiltily.

"Nah, don't worry about it. You've been some of the best company I've had."

"Oh yeah, company that doesn't even know her name and takes your bed," I joked. He laughed and it was a pleasant sound.

A sudden burst of green flames had caused us to jerk in our seats. Harry stood in the fireplace. He raised his eyebrows at Ron. Ron just shook his head.

"Never mind that, you need to come with me. There's been an attack at Malfoy Manor," Harry commanded.

"What about her?" Ron said leaning his head toward me.

"Put up all your wards. We need to go."

I watched as both men put up the precautionary spells. Once they were done, Ron handed me my wand, and they both disappeared with a 'pop.'

April 27, 2009-Him

Malfoy Manor

I watched as Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were transported to St. Mungo's from their mansion in Wiltshire. Malfoy stood quietly in the corner of the ballroom. Hermione had a hand on his arm. For the first time in our lives, I sympathized with him. Both of his parents were curse with the Cruciatus and a spell that slightly resembled Snape's Sectumsempra. Instead of causing lacerations that bled, the victim just seemed to bleed from their skin. They both were still bleeding badly when we first arrived. The emergency Healers had just recently stopped it.

Harry came up to my side, "If only that Memory Charm would fade. I'll never forget what Narcissa Malfoy looked like today."

I nodded. In my memories, I could picture the cold Narcissa Malfoy who told Madam Malkin she was shopping for robes elsewhere. She was completely different from that as they took her away. The aristocratic woman had been paled to bloody near translucent. She looked fragile and on the brink of death.

"I'm going to talk to Malfoy, so he can leave to be with them," he informed me. Once again I said nothing. Instead I took out my wand and proceeded to find a trace to the magic.

Hours later, I hadn't found anything that we could use and was becoming frustrated. Harry grumbled from the other side of the room. I know how he felt. I just wanted to go home to sleep. I was also worried about Jane. Leaving her alone, our only link to the attacks, didn't feel right.

Hermione had returned from Mungo's about an hour ago. The children were at the Burrow with my mum. She said she couldn't sleep after seeing her in-laws in that state. So, once again, the three of us were working to piece together a puzzle.

"That's more pure-bloods attacked. What if Draco had been here?" She asked. I could tell by the pitch of her voice that she was on-edge.

"I would say that this is someone targeting Death Eaters except it wouldn't explain Mrs. Zabini," Harry interjected. Hermione nodded. It was odd that pure-bloods were being attacked, but Harry was right, beyond the fact that they were all Slytherins; their blood was the only thing that connected them.

"Maybe it's just someone who hates Slytherins," I suggested. Harry looked thoughtful at this.

"Could be, but I'm not going to say for sure. I hope that Memory Charm wears off soon," he said before turning to Hermione, "Come on 'Mione. Let's get your husband and get the two of you home. You need some rest."

"I think you're right Harry," she answered. She took his hand.

"You should go home too," he suggested.

I told him I would and then they disapparated. I quickly followed suit. I appeared in my flat moment's later. I was so exhausted that I went straight to the couch and lay down.

April 28, 2009-Her

Ron's Flat

I was sitting in my History of Dark Arts class. I listened as Professor Jackson told us about a wizard in Britain who had done the darkest of magic. He had become a threat to Muggle-borns and half-bloods alike. This wizard made himself known to the British wizarding world as Lord Voldemort.

Professor Jackson continued with the story. Lord Voldemort had come to the height of his power near the late seventies and early eighties. If it weren't for his attack on a woman and her son he would have destroyed the entire wizarding world. Apparently this woman's love for her son was what saved the baby from the Killing Curse. It was an interesting bit of wizarding history that I didn't know. I continued to listen as Professor Jackson continued with all of the brutal murders that Death Eaters, the wizard's followers, had committed. It was awful to hear such a thing as a half-blood myself.

When class was over, I left a little shaken. I felt for all of the people who had been harmed by some wizard who thought he deserved the right to condemn people to death. I remembered that the history ended with the death of Voldemort at the hands of the boy who survived his Killing Curse. I was walking to the Commons Building when I noticed a fellow student put up a sign that was calling for supporters of Voldemort and the Death Eaters' victims. I remembered how three of the boys in the class earlier that day had been outraged by the day's lesson. This must have been their way of coping.

I shot up in Ron's bed. I could hear whimpering coming from somewhere. I realized that I was the one making the noise when Ron knocked on the door.

"Are you alright?" He asked through a crack in the door.

"I don't know, but I just had another memory," I said in a shaky voice. I think the sound of my voice told him I needed comfort because he opened the door widely and came to sit by me in the bed.

"What was it about?"

He sat as I told him the memory. I felt stupid as I told him because it didn't really feel like it was a useful memory. Also, I shouldn't have been panicked by it.

"I'm sorry I woke you. It seems useless," I said to him as I tried to calm my racing heart.

"No, this may be more important than you think. Maybe this has something to do with Voldemort," he said to me as he tried to calm me down. I blinked up at him. The memory was just a day in class listening to the same story that he told me. Except his story was first-hand and this story was something I had to learn the details in order to pass the exam.

"How could it be more important? I think I just recalled it because you told me the same story, only with way more emotion," I said defiantly to him. How could he not see how useless this memory was?

"Yes, the class part is the bit that doesn't matter, but you remembered something about a group of supporters. What if this has something to do with them? What if they're going after people that are Death Eaters?" He asked me. I could tell that he thought he was onto something. I watched as he got up and left me in the room.

Fifteen minutes later he came back and spoke, "We're going to meet Harry and Hermione and you're going to tell them about your memory. We'll get breakfast where we're going."