Chapter Eleven / Confess Your Love
TIME STAMP: Approx. 3 months after the Battle at Hogwarts. (August 1998)
In this chapter, Harry and Ron join the Aurors. Hermione doesn't approve.
Can you lie next to her,
and give her your heart, as well as your body?
And can you lie next to her,
and confess your love, as well as your folly?
And can you kneel before the King,
and say 'I'm clean'?
I'm clean.
Oh tell me now,
where was my fault?
In loving you, with my whole heart?
-White Blank Page, by Mumford and Sons
After the hurt, there comes healing. The Wizarding World was doing just that: healing. Wars and wounds couldn't hold them down, and slowly but surely, a community, friends and families, parents and children alike, were rewinding and rebuilding, facing on a new, but still uncertain future…
August was winding to a close, and for the first time in a long time, it seemed like everything was falling into place. Percy, Bill, and Mr. Weasley had all finally gone back to work, and although not even comparable to his former self, George seemed to be coping, and was tolerable, if not pleasant company on most days. Although still wholly aware of what they'd lost, the Weasley family was moving on, and could even get through a dinner together without someone bursting into tears or storming out in a rage.
In the tiny flat above the bookshop in Diagon Alley, a sense of normalcy filled the air. After two weeks of time off, Ron had finally returned to working alongside George at the joke shop. A few of his mother's home cooked meals, and a few days of sleep had cheered him greatly, and coupled with Hermione's return his laid back attitude and casual smiles were returning. It seemed as if they fed off of each other, Ron and Hermione, and just as her return had done wonders for Ron's well being, his contentment seemed to be the last piece in the puzzle to returning her to full health. She took on a part time job at the bookstore beneath them, cleaning shop and helping Mrs. Poppitch decide which books to order, and packing away new shipments. Occasional nightmares still disturbed Hermione, but her panic could now be sedated with hot tea and warm hugs, both of which Ron volunteered eagerly. The numerous bottles of calming and sleeping potions that had once sat prepared on the first shelf in the kitchen, were now tucked away in the highest cupboard, growing dusty behind a case of butterbeer and Harry's old Potion's cauldron.
Perhaps the biggest improvement came in Harry. With both his best friends back to almost normal, and Ginny at his side, Harry's delight became infectious. With no Dark Lord or battle looming, no school to take up his time, and no immediate need for employment, Harry grasped his first real chance at freedom. He spent hours, days, and entire weekends with Ginny, in the Alley, and at the Burrow. He brought Teddy home with him as often as Andromeda would allow, and was quickly becoming an expert in all things infant. He visited Neville, had lunch with Luna, and spent afternoons with Mrs. Weasley, who was teaching him how to cook with magic. He could take his broom and fly when he wanted, to wherever he wanted, and it was exhilarating.
Hermione seemed to have permanently moved into Ron's room, and the room at the end of the hall slowly filled with Ginny's things, as she came to stay with them on the weekends, and wouldn't dare sleep in Harry's bed with her brother across the hall. The four of them went to muggle cities together, ate dinner and saw films, and came back to the flat to drink butterbeer and play Exploding Snap. Sometimes, on Saturday nights, Hermione would join Ginny in her little room, and Ron and Harry would both lie awake late into the night, listening as the girls chatted and sang old muggle music off-key. They fell asleep to what they agreed was the best sound in the world, their sisters and girlfriends, the women they cared for most in the world, laughing in childish, carefree joy.
It wasn't perfect. But it was close enough.
It really did seem as if everything was coming together, as if they could stay this way forever, and never have a worry again. Until a quiet and wonderfully ordinary Saturday morning at the very end of August, when Harry looked up to find a big brown owl staring at him through the window. Setting his broomstick and jar of polish on the sofa table, Harry stood slowly and inched his way across the little living room.
"Oi, Harry, have you seen- Blimey, is that a Ministry owl?" Ron's head appeared in the doorway, looking perplexed.
"Looks like…" Harry reached forward apprehensively, untying the letter from the owl's leg. As soon as it was relieved of its burden the big barn owl turned with a ruffle of its feathers and took once again for the skies. Harry turned the thick envelope over in his hands to see the names printed there.
Miss Hermione Granger
Mr Harry Potter
Mr Ronald Weasley
Flat Number 47
Diagon Alley, London
"It's addressed to all of us."
"All of us?" Ron echoed, coming into the room to peek over Harry's shoulder. "You reckon they've finally decided to charge us? I mean we did break into a bank. Stole a dragon."
"Er, I think we're alright on that front, mate." Harry said, distracted. Quickly he ripped open the side of the envelope and pulled out a folded wad of parchment. He opened it and held it so Ron could see.
Miss Granger, Misters Potter & Weasley,
As you may have seen in this morning's paper, it has come to our attention here at The Ministry that the safety of our world may still be under threat. Upon receiving permission from the Malfoy Family, their manor was thoroughly searched and investigated. This search produced written records of everyone ever in service to The Dark Lord. As such, we have come to realize that there may be many more of his followers in hiding than previously thought.
On behalf of the Minister for Magic, we would like to inform you of the current efforts and actions being taken to secure these remaining at large followers of He Who Must Not Be Named. An Auror Task Force has been working in alliance with the cooperation of The Malfoy Family to locate and capture the dozens of known Death Eaters who remain in hiding.
It is at this time, that we here at the Auror department would also like to offer each of you positions on the Auror Task Force currently in action. Kindly send your reply by owl as soon as possible. You will be contacted with further information regarding your place with the Aurors, and any concerns regarding your safety, and that of your families may be addressed at this time.
Please keep safe and on your guard.
Sincerely,
John Dawlish
Head, Auror Department
Ministry of Magic
Upon reaching the end of the brief letter, Harry stood, shocked into silence. It took a few moments for Ron to catch up to the end of the page, but as soon as he had, he let out a flustered splutter.
"Wait- what?"
Harry spun round to face Ron, letter held aloft in one hand, empty envelope in the other.
"The paper." Harry said instantly. "We need the newspaper."
"Yeah, the paper…" Ron nodded, looking uncomfortable. "Right."
"What is it?" Harry asked, impatiently, as he followed Ron into the kitchen. Hermione was waiting for them, The Daily Prophet held aloft, her eyes questioning.
"How did we not realize?" she asked, a slight tremor in her voice. "Of course they weren't all apprehended, how stupid we've been!"
"Hermione, calm down." Ron said absently, taking the paper from her and spreading it across the table. He and Harry leaned over it. Underneath a bold, dramatic headline, the Death Eaters names were published, the list stretching the length of the front page.
"Rookwood." Harry read aloud when he found the name they'd both been searching for. Ron was shaking so hard he was causing the table to rattle on its slightly uneven legs. Behind them, Hermione was still standing in the middle of the floor, her eyes unfocused.
"We don't even lock our door." she said faintly.
"If they'd wanted to get to any of us, they'd have done it already, locked door or not." Ron said, running a hand through his hair. He took the Ministry letter out of Harry's hand and handed it to Hermione. "This just came for us."
She took the letter and scanned it quickly.
"Of course," she said, "I'm not surprised. Their force has been nearly cut in half, your Dad said. Neville signed up last week."
"Well what do we do?" Ron asks.
"We reply to the Ministry." Harry said instantly. "Look, no pressure, you two take your time, make your decisions, but I'm going. I'm doing it."
"Of course you are!" Ron grinned wryly. "Not much of a choice to make. Right, Hermione?"
"Sorry, what?" Hermione tore her eyes away from the letter and looked up. Her eyes darted from Ron to Harry and back again, looking a little overwhelmed. "I- I can't."
"What?" Ron asked blankly, staring at Hermione.
"I'm not joining." she repeated, her voice firm. "Look, Harry, Of course you can't say no to such an amazing career opportunity, I mean the Aurors, they're usually so strict about applicants."
"But?" asked Ron.
"But... Before I met the two of you, I was an eleven-year-old bookworm with bad teeth. I never planned for this, to spend my life fighting. We got out. I'm not jumping back in again. Harry, no offense..."
Harry grinned and reached over to squeeze her hand.
"Absolutely none taken. Can't say I planned for any of this either."
"Right, well." Ron recovered himself from Hermione's little speech and turned back to Harry. "We should get down there right away. The sooner we get our names on their list the better, I say."
"Yeah." Harry looked down at himself. He had broomstick polish smeared down his front. "Hang on, I'll change."
He left the room and Ron returned his attention to Hermione who was staring at him, a shocked expression on her face.
"Whats wrong?" he asked her.
"You're joining?"
Ron blinked. Why did that surprise her so much?
"Er- yes?"
"Why on Earth would you consider such a thing?" Hermione demanded, her tone impatient. She took a step forwards to put herself uncomfortably close to Ron, as she often did when getting ready to give him a good scolding.
"Because it's the right thing to do." Ron said evenly. "What's the matter with you?"
"The matter with me? What about you? How can you even think of leaving George at a time like this?" Hermione was positively shrieking now. "He's just lost his brother!"
"So did I!" Ron roared. The little bubble of anger that had been lying inside him since Fred's death was threatening to explode. "And I'll like to bloody well catch the bastard that killed him!"
"At what cost?" demanded Hermione. "It's a dangerous profession, and you're mother doesn't need anything else to fret over, you know-"
"Yeah, because 3 dozen Death Eaters on the loose and itching for revenge, that's nothing to fret about!" Ron glared at Hermione and took a step back to regain some personal space. It had been a while since they fought like this, he realized. "What's this about, anyways? I didn't think we were going to do this anymore, now that... You know."
"Now they we're a couple? Oh, for God's sake, Ron, don't be a child." Hermione snapped as Ron blushed scarlet. "And couples argue! If you think a good snog will get you out of trouble, then you are sadly mis-"
"WHAT AM I IN BLOODY TROUBLE FOR!"
"FOR LEAVING ME!"
Hermione's shriek echoed through kitchen and a glass on the counter shattered.
Harry chose that moment to reappear, and he stood gaping in the doorway. The kitchen was nearly silent, the only sound coming from Ron, who was breathing heavily, his hands in fists at his sides. He took several steps backwards to get away from Hermione, his eyes wide. Hermione had slapped both hands over her mouth and was staring at the broken glass, seemingly horrified with her own outburst.
"I'm- oh, Ron, I'm sorry." She whispered from behind her trembling fingers. She stepped forward, and tried to take Ron's hand, but he wrenched himself out of her grasp.
"Don't touch me." He snapped. "For the love of Merlin, Hermione, control yourself!"
Ron stormed angrily from the room, and down the hall. His bedroom door slammed with a mighty crash, and dishes rattled on the kitchen shelves.
Harry looked across the silent kitchen at Hermione.
"You should go somewhere, calm down a bit." He said, quietly.
"Oh, don't you be mad at me too!" Hermione cried, tears splashing down her front, her chest heaving with sudden sobs.
"No, I'm not…" Harry said. He crossed the room and held out his arms awkwardly. "Come here."
Hermione allowed him to hug her, and tucked her head against his shoulder.
"You should know better than to use that against him, you know how guilty he feels." Harry scolded lightly. Hermione only hiccupped in response. "And you know he'd die rather than leave you again."
"That's what I'm afraid of." Hermione shuddered.
"Hermione- don't." Harry pulled away from her and gave her a stern look. "It's not even worth getting worried about. We don't even know what we'll be doing yet; they might decide we're useless and stick us at desks. Why don't you go to the Burrow? Hang out with Ginny for the day…"
Harry handed Hermione his handkerchief and let her wipe her face. When she'd calmed down a little he gave her a kiss on the cheek and a pinch of floo powder and sent her off through the fireplace. Then, bracing himself for a moment, he headed down the hall to Ron.
Harry had been Ron's best friend for a very long time. And being someone's friend that long- especially living in close quarters at school for most of the year- tended to put you in tune with someone. And Harry was in tune enough with Ron to notice how the redhead sometimes shied from certain situations. He'd noticed it first in their first year at Hogwarts, after their little trip past Fluffy, Ron had been especially quiet, even leaving the End of Year Feast early to go back up to the boy's dormitories to lie down. In the years following, Harry had picked up on Ron's discomfort, and always attributed it to the noise of a particularly rowdy lesson, or the heat of the crowded common room, and would make excuses for Ron when he took to his bed early.
Harry had asked him about it once, at Grimmauld Place, when they were 15. Ron had shrugged and blushed a little. 'I get headaches sometimes' he'd muttered, and Harry let the subject drop. It was only after their capture at Malfoy Manor, that Harry learned the truth. Under the safety of Shell Cottage, and after the scare of nearly losing Hermione, Ron had admitted to the both of them that he was a Sensitive. A Sensitive, as Hermione had been eager to explain, was a gifted witch or wizard who could sense the force of magic inside a person, as well as the emotions that drove it. Ron had been quick to assure them that he was far from gifted; that Sensitives were common among pure bloods and that the most he got out of it was a sore head and a buzzing in his ears.
It had all made sense to Harry and Hermione then: Ron's outwardly blunt nature, quick temper, and caring attitude all stemmed from his sensitivity. Ron felt people's magic, and it gave him just a tiny bit more insight into a person that the average wizard could grasp. Unfortunately, it also gave him a tiny bit more discomfort from wearing Riddle's horcrux- just enough to send him over the edge, and running away.
Harry arrived in front of Ron and Hermione's bedroom and knocked gently on the closed door. When he heard a muffled response from inside the room he pushed the door open a little and took a step inside. The room was dark and Harry could barely make out the figure seated on the edge of the bed.
"It's me, mate." Harry announced himself quietly.
"I know." Ron's voice came out of the darkness, calm, but wavering slightly.
"Hermione's gone to the Burrow. I can leave too, if you need-?"
"No." Ron cut him off rather quickly. "You're fine. You're never as loud as she is."
This was how Ron described the magic he felt. In volume and sounds, shapes and feelings, and occasionally colors.
"Where's the light?" Harry asked as he felt his way through the dark bedroom towards Ron.
"Oh- sorry, here-"
Harry heard the familiar click of the Deluminator, and light doomed back into the lamp that Harry was about to walk in to. In the light, Ron was revealed, perched on the edge of the neatly made bed (definitely Hermione's handiwork), his long legs folded beneath him. His face was pinched as he stared down at the floor.
"It's not just light." He said, gesturing towards the Deluminator in his hand. He didn't look up at Harry. "It sucks all the extra magic out of the air. Dumbledore was one too… like me."
This didn't surprise Harry. He sat down on the bed, his shoulder touching Ron's and he felt the tension drain out of Ron as he clicked the Deluminator and the light went out again.
"You're like Bill." Ron said, "Quiet. Level."
"I find that hard to believe." Harry snorted.
Ron shrugged in the darkness.
"You weren't always. Used to wake me up sometimes, when you were dreaming"
The two sat in silence for a while, both caught in silent thought. When Ron's shaking had calmed down, Harry spoke again.
"What's Hermione like?"
Ron remained silent for so long that Harry didn't think he was going to answer.
"It's like she's wound up too tight." Ron said finally, his voice heavy. "It's this tight tiny little ball. It hums when she's happy, same way she does."
Harry grinned. The boys had discovered that Hermione would hum, or sometimes sing to herself when she was in a good mood, when she thought no one was listening.
"When she's really thinking about something it buzzes and I can tell when she's upset, 'cause it skips- flashes all wrong. And then she gets mad and it all unravels. Explodes and bounces about like firecrackers. It's best when she calms down… if she reads, or when she's sleeping… it gets really warm and gentle. It's nice."
Ron fell silent again, and Harry knew he was blushing in the darkness.
"Doing a bit better now?" Harry prodded.
"Yeah." Ron nodded a little. "I should go talk to her."
"Right now?" Harry asked, mock surprise in his voice. "Hermione and Ron, fighting and making up all in the same day? I don't believe it!"
"Oh bugger off." Ron shoved Harry to the floor and stepped over his laughing form to get to the door.
A few hours later finds Ron walking across the apple orchard behind the Burrow, towards two young women sitting under a tree. There is a blanket spread out underneath them, and they've kicked off their shoes and rolled up their pant legs to get some sun. Ron stops at a distance and watches them for a few moments before walking up and clearing his throat to announce himself.
Hermione and Ginny look up and their conversation dies quickly. Hermione turns her face away when she sees him, but he still spots the tears before she can wipe them away. Ginny gets up and takes the few steps to her brother, and they stand, side by side, facing in opposite directions for a moment.
"Harry's up at the house." Ron says, by way of greeting. Ginny just nods.
"I know what I've signed up for with Harry." Ginny said calmly. "I already know what it feels like to sit and wait, not knowing if he'll come home safe. Hermione is scared to live that life. I don't blame her."
It was Ron's turn to nod as Ginny walked past him and off towards the house.
"Well, come and sit down." Hermione said briskly, dragging her sleeve across her eyes and looking up at him with a dry face. Ron gave her a tiny wry smile and threw himself down on the blanket beside her. His hand found hers, and for a long while they sat in silence, watching as off in the distance Ginny skipped the last few steps up the yard and playfully leapt into Harry's arms.
"I'm afraid." Hermione whispered.
"Tell me why." Said Ron.
She turned and met his gaze, her eyes free of tears but full of worry.
"I'm afraid you're only doing this to get Rookwook. Just for revenge," she said, softly. "I'm afraid it will make you bitter, and you'll do something rash and get yourself hurt."
As she spoke, Ron gently rolled up the sleeve of her shirt to reveal the fading scar on her inner forearm. He turned her arm over so the words were facing up to the both of them.
"Ron, what-?"
"This is what they think of you, Hermione." he said, shortly.
Hermione looked horrified, and tried to pull her arm free of his grasp. He held on.
"Stop it, Ron!"
"I'm sorry, I know it upsets you, but I need you to understand." Ron grasped her chin with his free hand and brought her face up to meet his. "I could have lost you that night. These people would have killed you, out of nothing but hatred and cruelty, and as long as they're walking free you're in danger."
"Ron, nothing's happened-"
"I know. And we could let this be, we could live the rest of our lives and they may never come after us again… But I'm not prepared to take that chance. I will not risk your life."
"And what about your own?" Hermione pleaded, tears pooling in her eyes once again. She pulled her hands free of Ron's grasp and gripped the front of his shirt. "Ron, please."
Ron gently took Hermione's face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together.
"Please don't cry. Look, I know how you feel. All that time at Bill's, I didn't know where you were, or if you were alright, and it hurts like hell, I know, and I'm sorry to put you through that. But I can't, Hermione, I can't let this go." Ron whispered. "I can't walk away anymore. I won't leave you unprotected, ever again. I made that mistake once, and that was one too many."
"Promise me, that you'll always come home to us, Ron, promise me that."
Ron swallowed thickly, his heart sinking at the thought of making a promise that he might not be able to keep. He tried to talk sense, tried to reveal the logic he knew was lying just behind her eyes, expose the truth, that something may happen to him, that he simply could not promise such a thing. But for whatever reason, he looked into her eyes, those big, brown eyes, filled to the brim with knowledge and affection, and he could only utter one word.
"Always."
A/N: I'm extremely sorry for how long it's taken to get this chapter out. I got really stuck at a few parts, and I've cut a lot out that I wasn't happy with, so it's also a bit short.. but hopefully you all enjoyed it anyways.
If you haven't done so, I suggest you go ahead and read my other story, Revival. It's set in the same Universe as this one, and it only has two chapters so far, but it explains a bit more of Ron being a Sensitive.
Thank you SO much to my faithful readers who stick with this story, and review every chapter, even though I'm so slow writing them. Your support means so much, and I'm writing this for you guys.
Let me know what you thought!
-Laine