Chapter Ten - A New Hobby

Every time Ron closed his eyes over the next few nights, he saw Harry's sad eyes captured by Andy's camera. With each attempt to sleep Ron noticed something different. Every tiny detail of those eyes, whether it was the ring of yellow specks around the pupil, the streaks of pale green one dimension beneath emerald, or the long, thick, black lashes that only served to accent the pain in the eyes, was engraved on the back of Ron's eyelids.

After hours of frustration, he'd give up and get out of bed. Playing with Ginger passed some of the time. She fancied playing with a shoelace he took out of his trainers and dangled in front of her. Eventually she'd get bored and go back to sitting in her favourite spot on the windowsill. Often Ron sat with her and looked out into the darkness, wondering if she was waiting for her master or her friend Mary Ann.

He wanted to call Hermione just to talk to someone, but he knew that she'd only worry if she thought he wasn't sleeping. They still had their daily phone calls during reasonable hours to check in and make sure everything was alright. Nothing new was happening, so they were brief and it only added to Ron's feeling of isolation. Now he missed both of his best friends.

By Tuesday, Ron was bored and frustrated. He had fiddled with the telly for hours in the middle of the night and eventually accomplished getting sound from it, but no picture. He had lain on the sofa until dawn listening to programmes describing how someone could become rich by investing in real estate.

There was only one thing left to do. He had to ask Harry for help. He could go to Marty, but he worried that Marty would think it was too strange that Ron didn't know how to operate something that was so simple to a Muggle.

Right before lunch, which was a tactical decision on Ron's part as he hoped that he could convince Harry to stay and eat, he ran through the rain that had plagued the area for days and knocked on Harry's door. Harry answered looking like he had just got out of bed, wearing only white thin cotton bottoms, a white t-shirt, and no shoes or socks.

Ron was struck mute the moment that he was face-to-face with the eyes he had obsessed about for days. He stared at them, looking for some answers to what was beneath the shroud of detachment Harry had constructed.

"Hello, Ron. Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I was just wondering… er, I still can't get the blasted telly to work. Could you give me a hand, mate?"

Harry nodded. "I s'pose. I need to get dressed first."

"Great. Thanks!"

Ron rushed back to his house and began making sandwiches with the food he had bought the previous day at a small market on Main Street. He was finishing the third sandwich when he heard a knock on the door.

Ginger beat him there and he picked her up before answering so she didn't get out.

"Thanks, mate," Ron said, opening the door wide for Harry to step in. "I really appreciate it."

Harry looked around, smirking. "It's a bit messier than when Mike was here."

Rob blushed as he picked up two pairs of socks from the sofa. "I've been –"

"Busy trying to fix the telly?"

Ron chuckled. "Yep, something like that."

Once Ron put Ginger down, she went straight to Harry and began rubbing against his calf shamelessly begging for attention.

"Hi," Harry said as he scratched her neck and she began purring. When Harry stopped, Ginger pranced over to Ron, sat down, and meowed up at him.

"I see you two are getting along famously," Harry said.

"It's time to feed her," Ron replied. "She's not always this nice to me. Mostly she acts as if I'm not worthy to breathe the same air as her."

Harry laughed loudly. Ron insides swelled with pleasure and the image of those sad eyes faded a little.

"Go on, then. I'll take a look at the telly."

"Speaking of eating, I was just making lunch. Would you like a sandwich?"

"Yeah. I haven't eaten yet. Had a lie-in today."

Ron bounded off to the kitchen pleased with himself for getting Harry to stay. Within a few minutes, he heard the television blaring and Harry yelled in from the living room. "Too many remotes for this bloody thing!"

"Yeah?" Ron yelled back.

Ginger crunched away at her food as Ron finished the sandwiches, put them on a plate, grabbed a bag of potato chips, which he hoped were like the crisps back home, and went back into the living room. He found Harry sitting on the sofa and the television ablaze with a flawless, dazzling picture.

"Wow!" Ron put the food on the table.

"Mike loves this telly."

"I can see why," Ron said, awe-stuck as he watched a plane flying in front of a spectacular blue sky.

"Let me show you how it works," Harry said.

Ron sat down next to him and Harry went over the three remotes that controlled the television, the cable, and the DVD player. Ron didn't know what a DVD player was and was afraid to ask, so he just nodded and decided that he wasn't going to shut the television off the entire time he was here.

"This one changes the channel, right?" Ron asked and Harry nodded. Ron pressed the button Harry had showed him. The picture on the telly flickered briefly and a new programme was on.

Ron scooted closer to the edge of the sofa in his excitement and switched through the channels.

"That's a good movie," Harry said with a mouthful of sandwich.

"What is it?"

"Spider-Man. It's the first one – I think. Yes, that's his uncle, so it's the first one."

"Oh." Ron reached for a sandwich, stopping when he remembered that they didn't have anything to drink. "Something to drink? I have a few different fizzy drinks or if you want a beer?"

"Bit early for a beer, isn't it?"

"It's after twelve," Ron said wryly.

Harry snorted. "Oh, well, in that case, a beer it is."

Ron retrieved the beers and came back to find Harry shoeless and reclining back against the sofa with his feet up on the table.

"Thanks," Harry said. "D'you mind if I stay and watch this? I don't get this channel."

"No problem, mate. I could use the company."

Settling on the other end of the sofa, Ron removed his shoes and put his feet on the table too. Ginger, fed and content, jumped up next to him and curled in a ball; her purring so strong, she vibrated against his hip.

The pair didn't talk much during the movie. Ron had a hard time understanding a lot of it, but he liked the action and he thought it was cool how Spider-Man swung from building to building using a web. He knew enough about Muggles from Harry, Dean, and Hermione that he understood it was all make-believe and nothing more than a story crafted from a Muggle's imagination. Harry, Hermione, and him had done much more amazing things on a daily basis before they were even of age. Yet there was something enticing about watching the daring feats and not having to worry about someone really getting killed… or worse – expelled, Ron thought and sniggered.

The movie ended and another one began. Harry explained that it was the sequel to the last movie and he made no indication that he was leaving, so Ron disturbed the ball of fur next to him and went to the refrigerator for more beer. Harry drank the second beer faster and Ron had to get up three more times before the movie was over.

Harry stretched his lean body, lifting his arms over his head and pushing his legs out before him. "Thanks, mate."

Ron's mind searched for ideas on how to keep Harry from leaving. It had been comforting and the first time in ages that Ron felt relaxed and he wasn't about to let it go that easily.

"I… I'm not sure I can work the DVD thing."

Harry got up and opened the cabinet underneath the television and shook his head. "Sorry, mate, the only DVDs Mike has are dodgy. I don't think you'd be interested."

"Dodgy?" Ron asked, standing up and peering over Harry's shoulder.

"Porn."

That was something Ron didn't have a problem understanding.

There were about fifteen thin boxes lined up. Ron read the first few titles along the spine, blushed, and looked away.

"Wait, here's one… oh, no, this is Forrest Hump." Before Harry put the box back in its place, Ron caught a glimpse of a naked man on the front. "There are DVDs for guests at the inn. I'll grab one tomorrow and stop by… and I reckon I owe you lunch."

Ron nodded. It was less than what he wanted, but more than he had hoped for.

The next day Harry brought three movies and a bag of Chinese takeaway. The day after he returned with more movies and a chess board, which completely threw Ron over the edge of happiness.

Ron made lunch again and they played chess in between movies.

Muggle chess was boring, but since the concept was still the same, he bested Harry twice. Harry, stubborn and competitive as always, promised to be back the next day for a rematch.

Though Ron was very much enjoying this change in his days, it wasn't easy making conversation with Harry. Ron couldn't talk much about his life or anything that he knew, like Quidditch. When asked about his job, Ron said that he was in law enforcement and Harry became unexpectedly inquisitive. It was easy enough to alter some of his stories and leave out the magic bits. The story about the leprechaun, minus the leprechaun part, had Harry holding his sides laughing.

Making Harry laugh again was the best part of their days together and gradually Ron saw some of Harry's defensive shield lift.

Harry still hadn't stayed for dinner, but Ron was planning to go to the market during the weekend and pick up all of Harry's favourite foods in an attempt to entice him into staying.

Sleep still wasn't coming easy for Ron, but the telly helped. He fell asleep close to dawn Friday morning while watching a programme about cops and lawyers in New York City that seemed to be on twenty-four hours a day.

His mobile phone startled him awake and he had to search for it, swearing and begging it not to stop ringing before he got to it.

"Hi, Hermione!"

"Hello, Ron." He could tell by the tone of her voice that this was a serious call.

"What's wrong?"

Hermione launched right into the reason for her call. "Penelope found documents in Percy's desk. Well, really your Dad found them. Penelope's fallen behind in bills and he was helping her out. She's positive that she looked through the desk before and didn't see them. Even the Aurors missed them. Your Dad thinks that Percy spelled them to look like something else and over time they were restored to the original documents."

"Hermione!"

"Sorry! I was only trying to give you the background. They were in an envelope with Harry's name on the front. They were stolen documents from the Ministry. They're just more pieces of the puzzle, but they're big pieces and –"

"Hermione! Will you get to the point?"

"I was getting to the point! The documents definitely show that Scrimgeour was involved in something dishonest. There was a –"

"Wait," Ron interrupted. "Let me write this down." He grabbed a notepad and a pencil in the kitchen and sat down. "Go ahead."

"There was a statement for a Muggle Swiss bank account in Scrimgeour's name. It's worth over five million pounds!"

"Swiss? Why wouldn't he just put it in a local bank?"

"It's where Muggles hide their money." She continued without further explanation and Ron didn't ask for any; he trusted her to tell him what he needed to know. "And there was a memo from Scrimgeour to Robards requesting Harry for a special covert mission."

"Mission?" Ron dropped the pencil, got out of his seat, and began pacing. "What mission?"

"It didn't say."

"Was it dated?"

"Yes. The third of September two thousand and four."

"Harry never went on any missions without me, Hermione. I'd remember!"

"I know. Tonks checked the Auror records. Harry wasn't on any official mission without you around that time. But the third was a Friday. That Monday you took ill and left work early. You were out for two days."

Ron stopped, clenched his fists and released them, continuing it a few times before he remembered. "I remember! I had that dreadful stomach flu. I had to take those potions that made me drowsy, so I couldn't work. But… Harry… I can't remember what Harry said he did, but it couldn't have been anything exciting or I would've remembered."

"Tonks said the records show him as never leaving the office."

"D'you reckon Scrimgeour changed them?"

"It's possible." Hermione coughed. "I've considered that he asked Percy to get involved in this and help him, but Percy either declined or went along with it and began collecting this evidence."

"Percy wouldn't decline. At least not at first."

"Ron, there's more."

Ron's stomach dropped. "More?"

"A letter from someone within the Foreign and Commonwealth Office thanking the Minister for his help in Syria."

"Syria? What in bloody hell does Syria have to do with the other stuff?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, sounding tired. "Syria is always in some sort of turmoil. Your Dad only found the records early this morning. I'm going to the library today to research events that occurred there around that time."

"I don't believe this!" Ron started to pace angrily. "Penelope had these documents the entire time! I don't believe it!"

"It's not her fault, Ron! She's had other things on her mind. Percy was trying to conceal them for a reason – a good one and it worked. If the Aurors had found them, they would've handed them over and Scrimgeour would've destroyed them. "

Ron had paced himself back into the living room and sat down on the sofa. "You're right. You'll let me know as soon as you find out anything?"

"I will. Are you spending time with Harry today?"

Ron's mind had drifted off, thinking about everything that Hermione had told him and she had to repeat the question.

"Yes. In fact, he should be here any minute."

"I'll call you later," Hermione said and took a deep breath. "This is important stuff, Ron. Percy died because he knew what was going on. This isn't just about bringing Harry back. We owe it to Percy."

"I know," Ron said softly and choked back the grief that he hadn't let himself feel since the day they found Percy dead and Harry missing.

"Bye, Ron. I love you."

Surprised, but pleased by her declaration of affection, Ron smiled. "I love you, too."

"Want to watch another movie?" Harry asked. The DVD ejected from the player and he carefully put it back in the box.

Ron, who had stood up to stretch his legs, looked out the window at the beautiful crystal clear sky. "Bloody hell, no," he said exasperatedly. "I'm going barmy in here, mate. Let's eat lunch and take a walk."

He braced himself for Harry to say no. For a moment, it looked like he was right, but then Harry smiled and shrugged. "Some fresh air would be nice."

"It's warm out there too," Ron said still trying to convince Harry even though he had said yes. He stepped outside and came back. "We don't even need coats! But you'll need a sweatshirt or a jumper." Ron jogged into the bedroom and came back with two sweatshirts. He threw a black one with a hood at Harry and slipped the blue one over his head.

Harry and Ron walked along Main Street. A few men walked by and greeted Harry. Each time, Ron felt resentful, until Harry shared their names and how he had met them and Harry's openness took away some of the jealousy.

The restaurant Harry took him was named 'Sunflowers.' They had to walk through a quaint alley with ivy-laced brick walls that led to the indoor eating area. Past that, Ron could see a garden with a few small café tables. A host greeted them and Harry asked for a table outside.

"Here. You'll need this," the host said putting a lime green plastic gun on the table.

He left and Ron looked at Harry. "What would we need that for?"

Harry smirked. "It's a water gun." He looked up at the trees. "You'll see."

The menu was extensive and Ron looked over the salads and sandwiches. When the waiter appeared, he couldn't decide between a Thai chicken wrap or an Asian sausage wrap.

"We could get both and share," Harry suggested.

While waiting for their meals, they chatted about the weekend and who was doing what.

"Shawn'll probably be scarce," Harry said. "He really fancies Mark."

"Is what Scott said true about Mark breaking Shawn's heart before?"

Harry frowned thoughtfully. "Mark's not a bad bloke. It's just hard to be different when everyone expects you to be like them. He didn't want to hurt his wife."

"You didn't answer my question."

"He broke his heart. Shawn was… well, he fell apart for a while."

Ron scowled and silently vowed that Mark would come down with a nasty case of boils in a very private area if he did it again.

The waiter showed up with their food and Ron took half of the sausage wrap first. As he was taking his first bite, the tree branch above them rattled and he looked up to see a squirrel hanging upside down eyeing his food.

"What in bloody hell?"

Laughing, Harry picked up the water gun, aimed it at the squirrel, and pulled the trigger. A stream of water burst out of the tip and hit the squirrel on the side. It made a strange angry clicking noise and ran back up the branch. Ron could still see him, sitting there waiting for a chance to make another move.

Harry waved the gun in Ron's face. "And that's why we need that."

"Brilliant!" Ron said. It was a pathetic attempt at excitement, but Ron moved the gun closer to him so he could have the next shot.

As they ate, Harry and Ron took turns firing water at the persistent squirrel that Ron had named Filch and wished desperately that Harry got the joke.

"Stay for pudding?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Ron said soberly, remembering what was on the afters menu: New York Style Cheesecake, pumpkin pie, and apple cobbler.

"What's wrong?"

Ron shrugged. "Feeling homesick, I reckon. I miss treacle tart."

Harry's eyes lit up and he nodded. "There's…" He paused. "We can stop at the coffee shop instead for a cup and walk along the canal."

"That sounds good."

They split the bill and left.

Fifteen minutes later, they approached the canal with cups of steaming coffee in their hands. At the entrance, Ron stopped to read a plaque explaining the canal system that was used to transport coal from Pennsylvania to New Jersey. They walked away and when Ron started to walk left, Harry grabbed his elbow and led him to the right.

"The towpaths are over here."

The towpaths were trails where people were walking, riding bikes, and running. The trees that a few weeks ago were filled with vibrant autumn colours were almost bare and the leaves that had fallen were swirling around their feet as they walked.

Harry's fingers skimmed over Ron's forearm. "This was a brilliant idea, mate. The weather's great. I was going a bit mental myself."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Harry smiled brightly. "And the company isn't bad either."

Ron's face flooded with heat and his step faltered. If it wasn't Harry, he'd have thought he was being flirted with.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"You didn't," Ron replied swiftly.

"Good."

They walked on, sipping their coffees and talking about the area.

"I have to admit," Ron said, "I didn't know what to expect of America. I sort of pictured it with taller buildings and a lot of rubbish in the streets."

Harry chuckled. "The cities are like that. Jim took me to Philadelphia once and I didn't like it much."

Without thinking about the consequences, Ron blurted out what he was thinking. "Is that why you stayed here - because of Jim?" As soon as he asked, he bit his lip, hoping that he hadn't just ruined a perfect day.

"New Hope or America?"

Ron's gaze swept past Harry's placid face and he relaxed. "What?"

"Stayed where – here in New Hope or here in America?"

"Um… I dunno. Both?"

"At first, I stayed in New Hope because I met Jim… and the others. I reckon I kept on staying because I like it here."

"Oh…"

"I reckon we should turn back," Harry said, throwing his coffee cup in a nearby rubbish bin.

"Okay."

The walk back was quieter and Ron mulled the day over in his mind. Harry had still been elusive, but the most open that he had been since Ron found him.

They reached Nobody's and stopped to talk to Marty. By the time they said good-bye and started back for the guest houses, Ron's stomach was rumbling, warning him that it was close to dinner.

The sun was dropping and the temperature was following. As they approached Ron's door, he heard a loud, deep honking noise from the sky and he stopped and looked up. A skein of geese were flying overhead.

"I wonder what it'd be like to fly," Harry said.

Ron glanced at Harry who was looking up longingly at the sky. Ron titled his face upwards, closed his eyes, and he went back to the last time he was on a broom flying around the Burrow.

"It's brilliant," Ron said quietly. "You feel… you feel small looking down at the world that seems never ending because you can see so far. But at the same time you feel free and in total control, like you can do anything that you want if only you can fly faster and higher. On a clear day, you see the colour of the sky in a way you'd never see from the ground. Even when it's raining, it's still brilliant. The wind and the rain beating down on your face… it's – it's like you realize for the first time that you're two parts – body and soul."

Ron opened his eyes and looked at Harry, who still had that same look of longing, but was looking at him now instead of the sky. The odd feeling Ron had felt in the clothes shop was back. "Um…" He swallowed hard and stuffed his cold hands into the front pocket of his sweatshirt. "I imagine that's what it would be like."

"You've thought about this, have you?"

"Just a bit, yeah."

There was a long silence and Ron felt unexplainably very nervous, like he was about to jump off a cliff and he knew that he would be both exciting and dangerous at the same time.

Harry cleared his throat. "Would you like to go for a meal? There's an authentic English pub across the bridge in Lambertville. The bloke who owns it is from London, so it's not one of those pathetic American imitations."

Harry had said it all very fast and Ron blinked, bewildered, his brain in a tizzy. "Dinner? D'ya mean now? Tonight?"

Behind the his glasses, Harry looked at Ron owlishly as he half-laughed and fiddled with the hoodstring on the sweatshirt that he had borrowed from Ron. "Yes. Tonight."

"Yes, I would," Ron said. He jerked his head towards the door. "I have to ring up a friend first."

"An hour enough time?"

"Yes."

"See you later, then," Harry said.

Smiling uncontrollably, Ron watched Harry walking away. Harry got to his door, turned and looked back. He gave a small wave before disappearing inside.

Ron reached for the door and paused when a thought suddenly struck him - did Harry just ask me on a date?

TBC