Author's Notes: I had to re-write this chapter yesterday because, frankly, I thought it sucked. And if I thought it sucked, there was no way in Hell I was gonna post it for anybody to read! I added some stuff, I got rid of some stuff, and I made it definitely less sucky. I'm happy with it...happy enough to post it. I hope it meets with your approval.

I want to thank everybody who reads my story, and especially everyone who has ever sent me a review (Edinburgh Love, Ann Malfoy, Cantletharrygo, CutewithAcapital-Q, fatyellowrat, Avanell, Dizzy0305, katie1985, Elytha, Trude, mugglemama, emmy1124, Emma.Jane-HPfan, Moony3005, IsI Wisi, Lady Anja, embergrl9010, the written princess, MissFinnegan, Tiffany M, and kareem33). You taking the time to review means a lot to me, which is why I reply to all the reviews I get.

I'd like to give CutewithAcapital-Q my undying gratitude for her encouraging words, "Chapter 14 better not SUCK!" Hehehehe! Let's hope it doesn't.

"Aftermath" is rated M for language and naughty stuff.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns this stuff.

"Aftermath"

Chapter 14 -- Re-Opening

By the time Saturday rolled around, Ron was exhausted. He and George had been working day and night to get Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes ready for it's grand re-opening, and that basically meant that Ron did all the grunt work while George supervised. Ron grumbled about under his breath about it, but never let George hear. He was just happy to have his older brother out of the house and actually doing something with his time instead of drinking and sleeping his life away.

Ron had slept through his alarm clock, but the ghoul in the attic made sure that he was awake; banging on pipes, moaning and groaning, and dropping a large crate of what sounded like pots and pans onto the floor right above his head. Needless to say, Ron was not exactly cheerful when he hauled himself out of bed.

Harry was already gone by the time Ron got up. The two had been avoiding each other somewhat after the blow-up over Harry offering to give Ron the money for Hermione's ring. Ron just shrugged it off, however, as he made his way down to the bathroom for his morning shower. With any luck, there'd still be hot water.

Luck was, indeed, on Ron's side, and he managed a nice, hot shower. On his way back to his attic bedroom, he decided to check on George to make sure he, too, was awake and ready for the shop's re-opening. He found him in his bedroom, standing in front of the mirror, putting on a purple tie with three golden W's embroidered on it.

"You're wearing a tie?" Ron asked from the doorway, his face looking more than a bit worried, "You're not expecting me to dress up for this, are you?"

"Nonsense, Ronniekins," George said as he finished tying the knot, complete with a handsome dimple.

"We're the proprietors," the Fred voice said in George's head.

"Of a successful joke shop," George continued.

"While you, ickle Ronnie…"

"Are merely the employee!"

"We must look the part…"

"While you can look the prat!"

"Nicely put, brother dear!"

"Why thank you, Fred!"

"Not at all…"

"Pip-pip!"

"Cheerio!"

Ron stood in the doorway looking agog at his brother. George had gone barmy. There was no other explanation for it. He was talking to himself more and more lately, acting like Fred was still right there beside him. Luckily no one else in the family had spent much time around George in the last few days, or Ron was sure they would have sent him off to St. Mungo's mental ward.

Ron really didn't know what to do. He seriously doubted his family was prepared for this. Ron had been hoping that opening up the shop again would get George over his depression; instead it seemed to have driven him around the bend. Ron hurried upstairs to get dressed, intent on finding Harry before he and George left, hoping that his best mate might be able to given him some advice.

Of course, Ron would have to apologize, first. And he really hated apologizing. But if his brother's sanity was on the line, and the happiness of his already fractured family was at risk, Ron would swallow his pride and do what he had to do.

Dressing quickly in a polo shirt and trousers, Ron hurried downstairs in search of Harry Potter. There was no sign of him in the kitchen, although Ron did manage to knick a piece of toast and some sausages that had been set aside for someone. He went out into the garden hoping to find Harry, but again, there was no sign of him. Something did, however, catch Ron's gaze as he walked out into the Saturday morning sunshine.

Ron slowly walked over to Fred's grave marker as a memory came to the forefront of his mind. He recalled seeing George sitting out here, the morning after the funeral, quietly talking to himself as he sat in front of Fred's grave. It was shortly after that that Ron noticed George talking to himself. Running a hand roughly through his red locks, Ron gazed down at Fred's grave marker.

Frederick Weasley

1 April 1978 – 2 May 1998

Beloved Son and Brother

A void in our hearts we cannot fill

Ron sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. He'd heard about talking to gravestones, but never put much stock in it. He had a hard enough time expressing his feelings (except anger) to real, live people; trying to express them to the dead seemed…foolish.

"Fred?" Ron spoke very softly, turning back to look at the house, wanting to make sure no one was watching him, "I don't know if you're out there, Fred, or if you can hear me…but, then, I'm pretty thick, so I don't know most things, right?"

Ron chuckled nervously and sighed once again before continuing to speak to his dead brother.

"I've seen George out here talking to you, Fred, so I'm sure you know about me and Hermione and about the war being over, so I won't bother you with that. It's George I need to talk to you about. I need your help, Fred."

Ron slowly crouched down and wiped a bit of dirt off the grave marker.

"George isn't right in the head right now, Fred. He keeps talking to you like you're still there…like you're still alive. I'm worried that he's gonna be locked away in a mental ward for the rest of his life. Do you know what that would do to Mum…to have to lock away one of her own kids?!"

Ron stood again, as a stern look darkened his face.

"I've seen George out here talking to you, Fred. So, if this is you doing this…somehow talking to George, making him think you're still with us…with him...I want…I need you to stop, Fred. We've all got to move on…especially George."

The stern look slowly washed away from Ron's face, replaced with a pleading, imploring expression.

"If you're not the one driving him nutters, Fred, then I need you to help him. I don't know what you can do…but if you can do anything…please help George get through this. I'm trying, but we all know I'm a poor replacement for you. Plus, I'm rubbish at all this feelings business. That's why it's taken me seven years to tell Hermione that I love her."

Ron felt a pang in his chest at the mention of Hermione. Oh how he missed her. He wished he could be with her right now, but today he had other responsibilities. There'd be time for Hermione later; today was about his family.

"Y'know, Fred, I don't think I ever told you that I loved you. I do, y'know. I guess it's a good thing I can't hear you wherever you are, cuz I know you'd be taking the mickey out of me right now. Take care of yourself, Fred…and please do what you can to help me with George."

Ron turned and started walking back towards the house, sure that it must be getting close to the time for him and George to head over to Diagon Alley for the shop's re-opening. He turned back briefly to Fred's grave, a lopsided grin on his lips.

"And if you're up there looking down on Voldemort in whatever Hell he's in…toss a couple dungbombs at him for me and tell the great manky bastard to sod off!"

Ron made his way back up to the house and into the kitchen. Once there, he found his best friend sitting at the table eating a bowl of porridge. The tall redhead stopped in his tracks for a moment, realizing that this was his opportunity to apologize to Harry for snapping at him the other day.

Ron stood there, mouth opening and closing like a fish for over a minute, trying to make the words come out. It was like Fourth Year all over again. Before Ron could make his mouth actually form the words he was trying to say, Harry spoke first.

"You always stand outside talking to yourself in morning?" Harry didn't look up from his porridge, but there was a slight curl at the corner of his mouth, as if he was trying not to smile. Ron saw it though, and fought the urge to smile, too.

"Well, who else am I going to have an intelligent conversation with?" Ron jibed, crossing his arms in mock sternness, "My girlfriend's in Australia and my best mate won't talk to me."

"Must have been a pretty limited conversation," the Boy-Who-Lived mocked, "Once you exhausted Quidditch, wizard's chess, and how to piss off your girlfriend, you must have run out of things to talk about."

"Like you're one of the world's great conversationalists," the redhead snorted, "I've seen the sort of conversations you have with Ginny. Your mouths are engaged, but no words are coming out."

"You're just jealous," Harry said, looking up at him with a smile.

"Of you snogging my sister?!" Ron's face twisted into a look of disgust, "Eww! Not even close."

"Fair enough," Harry replied, looking back down at his porridge.

Ron slowly moved to the table and took a seat as the two friends were engulfed once again by silence. The silence seemed to go on forever, but in reality it only lasted a couple of minutes. When the silence was broken, it was done so by the two friends speaking at the exact same time.

"I'm sorry."

"Bloody Hell, Harry, what are you apologizing for?" Ron looked at him quizzically.

"For offering to lend you the money to buy Hermione's ring," Harry explained, looking sheepish. He hoped reminding Ron of why he was mad at him wouldn't set Ron off again.

"That's a pretty stupid thing to be sorry for, Harry," Ron snorted.

"Well it's a pretty stupid thing to get pissed at your best mate for, too!" Harry snapped, causing Ron to look taken aback.

"Fair point," Ron said, glumly looking down at his hands, "I'm sorry for that, Harry…for blowing up at you like that…and for calling you a poncey git bastard."

"You never called me that," Harry said, shaking his head.

"Well no…not to your face."

The two friends sat there looking at each other with blank expressions on their faces. Soon, the corners of their mouths started to turn up into identical grins and moments later both young men were breaking out into peals of laughter.

"Seriously, though, mate," Ron said as the laughter between them died down and their brief crack in their friendship was repaired, "I don't think you understand why I need to do this without your help."

"Actually," Harry replied, stopping Ron from going into a long, drawn-out explanation that would doubtless be uncomfortable for one or both of them, "Ginny explained it to me. So I get it."

"She did?" Ron looked shocked. He didn't think anybody understood why he had to do this on his own (not counting the minor help George had been, giving him a job). He'd have to have a talk with his sister later and see just what it was that she'd told Harry. "So we're good?"

"Never better, mate," Harry said, beaming a smile at him.

Ron smiled back. He was just about to bring up the subject of George when, speak of the devil, the sole surviving proprietor of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes walked down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"'Morning lads!" George exclaimed, all smiles as he entered the room.

"It appears they've kissed and made up!"

"Indeed it does!"

"Indeed it does what, George?" Harry asked, looking confused.

"Nothing!" Ron exclaimed, jumping up from his seat and grabbing George by the arm, "Come on, George, let's go!"

"Absolutely, Ronniekins!" George said, moving outside with his younger brother.

"Off to the shop!!"

"To plunder the masses!"

"And amass the plunder!!"

"Brilliant!"

"Indeed!!"

"Can we go already?!" Ron snapped, losing his temper at the way George's mental state seemed to be degenerating.

"Of course, Ronniekins," George said, taking out his wand and preparing to Disapparate. He turned on his spot and with an audible pop, George was gone.

Ron cast a final glance over to Fred's grave, "Just a little help here, Fred!" Wand took out his wand before imitating George's movements and with a loud crack, Ron, too, was gone.

Harry cast a confused glance out the window as one by one, George and Ron disappeared. George was acting weird…weirder than usual. And he was awfully chipper considering how depressed he was just a few short days ago. There was definitely something going on with George and Ron seemed to be in on it. He would have to talk to Ron about it when he saw him later.

Harry became lost in thought as he pondered just what exactly could be going on with George and how Ron was involved. He soon came back to reality, however, as he was forced to throw himself out of the way as a determined tawny owl came through the window flying straight at Harry's head. The owl alighted on a nearby cupboard and gave Harry a cranky look with its huge yellow eyes. It screeched at him and tapped its talons on the old weathered wood in annoyance, a letter tied to its leg.

"Mail!"

When Ron and George reached Number 93 Diagon Alley, the premises of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, there was already a line formed at the front door of the shop, waiting for it to open. As George opened the doors and the customers began swarming inside, Ron recognized several familiar faces from Hogwarts, including his former roommates.

Throngs of small children (possible First Years at Hogwarts come the fall?) rushed around the store, thrilled and amazed at the variety of products available within the shop. Ron kept a stern eye on the youngsters, warning the midgets (as he so endearingly called them) that if they got too rambunctious, he would personally "kick their mad-alecky bums right out the door"!

All-in-all, it seemed as if Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was as popular as ever before. It was a perfect time for the joke shop to be back in business. The war was over, school was out, and the summer was just about to begin; many, many people…both young and old alike…were in a mood to celebrate, and Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes were a perfect way to celebrate.

Ron, George, Verity, and even Lee Jordan were doing their best to keep up with the flow of customers demanding authentic Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Ron wasn't exactly surprised at the fact that he was seeing a lot of familiar faces from his days at Hogwarts, but he was slightly surprised that so many of them were smiling; that people had a reason to smile after everything that had happened.

Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas, best friends for as long as Ron had known them, were there, picking up various tricks and jokes of the twins' devious design. Both were smiling and joking, but the smiles never seemed to reach Seamus' eyes; Ron couldn't help but wonder if that was because of Lavender Brown current condition at St. Mungo's.

Lavender had yet to recover from wounds received during the Battle of Hogwarts when she was attacked by the bloodthirsty werewolf Fenrir Greyback. She would live, but the effects of being bitten by the crazed werewolf were not yet known. It could be something as simple as a craving for extremely rare meat, such as with Ron's brother, Bill, or it could be as horrible as her becoming a werewolf just like Greyback. Only time would tell.

Neville Longbottom was there with Luna Lovegood. There were those who thought that something romantic might be developing between the two of them – they'd been very close friends ever since Fifth Year and the battle at the Department of Mysteries – but as yet they just appeared to be friends.

Ron spent as much time chatting with his old friends as he did helping the customers. Luckily, George seemed to be enjoying himself so much as he, too, chatted with old friends, that he didn't even notice when Ron wasn't actually paying attention to doing his job.

The entire Gryffindor Quidditch team during George's time at Hogwarts had come by, even Oliver Wood who should've been at a Puddlemere United practice since the British Quidditch season was set to start next month. Quidditch had been outright shut down during Voldemort's reign, and after a year without it, fans were anxious to be overcome with Quidditch fever once again.

After twelve straight hours of selling authentic Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products to hundreds and hundreds of clamoring customers, it was time to go home. Ron was exhausted all he wanted to do was go home and go to bed. George, however, was chipper as ever and instead of going home for a duly earned night of rest opted to go out with his old Quidditch team.

"George, come on," Ron pleaded, "You've got to be tired."

"Nonsense, Ronniekins," George laughed, waving him off, "The night is young!"

"And so are we!"

"And so are the ladies!!" George smiled, waggling his eyebrows.

Unable to talk George out of it, and trusting that George's old Quidditch mates wouldn't let him get too out of control, Ron sighed in resignation and Disapparated back to the Burrow.

When Ron returned to the Burrow that night, so tired he didn't even bother stopping off in the kitchen for some dinner, he hadn't been expecting to find a pair of letters sitting on his bed. He was tempted to just toss them aside, flop face first into bed, and go to sleep without so much as taking off his shoes. However, the handwriting on the top envelope drew his attention.

"'Mione?!"

Ron sat heavily upon his bed, causing it to creak with his weight. He picked up the envelope addressed in Hermione's neatly flowing script. He gazed at the way she wrote his name for several moments before bringing it up to his face and sniffing it. If he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could just make out a hint of Hermione's perfume lingering on the parchment. He imagined her sitting next to him, their hands intertwined, their lips about to meet…

"Ron?"

Ron snapped out of his daydream and looked up at his best friend. Harry had come walking into the room they shared while Ron was busy in his closed-eyed daydream.

"All right there, Ron?" Harry asked as he sat down on his own bed and looked across at his friend, "You seemed like you were…I dunno…a million miles away or something."

"Not a million," Ron replied softly, "Just how ever far it is to Australia."

Harry nodded, understanding fully. Spending this time away from Hermione…after they finally got together…must be tearing his friend apart. He'd done a good job of keeping his pain a secret, however, throwing himself into his job at George's shop. Anyone who didn't know Ron as well as Harry did wouldn't have thought anything was different about the redhead. Harry knew better, though.

"She'll be back soon," Harry said, trying to be comforting. He then decided to change the subject, to see if he could get Ron thinking about something other than Hermione, "I see you got your mail. The smaller one came just after you left for work this morning; the bigger one came just before supper."

"This one's from 'Mione," Ron sighed, showing Harry the smaller of the two envelopes. Harry rolled his eyes; so much for taking his mind off Hermione! If he couldn't get Ron's mind off of his girlfriend, Harry knew he'd never be able to get him to explain what was going on with George.

Ron ripped open the envelope and began reading his girlfriend's letter.

My Darling Ronald,

You have no idea how much I miss you. I keep looking around for that adorable head of red hair and those gorgeous blue eyes, and when I don't see them I miss you even more. One day, Ronald Weasley, we are going to be together and nothing will separate us.

I haven't seen my parents yet, and I won't be seeing them until Sunday at the soonest…Monday at the latest. With that being said, I'm hoping to be home by this time next week. I know that seems a long time, but I promise you, Ron, that I will make our time apart up to you in what I hope will be a most enjoyable fashion for both of us.

Australia would be a nice place to visit on a holiday…with someone special…but all I can think about is how much I want to return my parents' memories and return home to you.

Please don't forget about me, Ron. I love you.

All My Love,

(Your) 'Mione

xoxoxoxo

P.S.

I really, really, really miss you.

P.P.S.

I really, really, really, really love you!

Ron smiled as his finished reading Hermione's letter. He missed her terribly, but at least he knew that she was missing him, too. He'd been too engrossed in reading to notice Harry pulling faces at him. When he finally looked up to see Harry mocking him, Ron threw a pillow at him, slamming him in the face.

"Git!" Ron yelled, laughing at his best friend. He slid Hermione's note under his pillow, so he could read it again later. He picked up the second envelope and was a little baffled. There was no indication of who it was from and although he thought he recognized the handwriting, he wasn't completely sure. It was addressed to R. Weakley care of the Burrow. He grimaced at someone's idea of a joke.

"So, what's that…another love letter from your 'Mione?" Harry laughed, tossing the pillow back at Ron. Ron ducked to the side, so the pillow missed him, slamming harmlessly into the wall behind him, but his confused gaze remained on the envelope.

"I have no idea what this is or who it's from," Ron said, "Guess there's only one way to find out."

He ripped open the envelope and pulled out a letter and two photographs. Taking up the letter he tried to make heads-or-tails out of the scrunched, messy handwriting.

Dear Rom Weakley,

I think you might like to know how your "girlfriend" Hermione Granger is spending her holiday in Australia. What I tell you might be difficult for you to believe, but the photographs I have included with this letter should prove that I am telling the truth.

Hermione Granger is in love with me, not you. Her "holiday" to Australia was a lie she told you so that she could have a romantic weekend with me…the man she truly loves. She has been stringing you along because you are convenient, but her heart belongs to ME.

Look at the photographs. It looks like she is enjoying her holiday away from you with her very good "friend" Viktor Krum. Did you really think we were just friends?

Perhaps she prefers the company of someone who can buy her the many things she deserves…things a pauper like you are unable to give her. You cannot compete with me.

Viktor Krum

Unable to believe what he was reading, Ron felt the color rising in his ears as he crumpled the letter and tossed it aside, quickly bringing the photographs up for inspection. Two wizard photos – complete with moving people – sat in his hands.

The first photograph showed Hermione in Viktor Krum's arms, receiving a bone-crushing bear hug and then being spun around as the ugly git of a Bulgarian smiled joyfully. They appeared to be in an inn somewhere with dozens of strangers looking on. A note on the back of the photo, scrawled in the same untidy hand as the letter, read: Hermione and I are reunited.

The second photo was of Hermione and Viktor at what appeared to be an expensive restaurant. Viktor kept leaning in to whisper something in Hermione's ear before passing her a glass of wine. The note on the back read: Hermione and I enjoy an expensive dinner.

"Motherfu--…!"

"RON!" Harry yelled in shock at his best mate's outburst. He was about to ask the enraged redhead what the problem was, but Ron crumpled the two photographs, threw them down onto the bed and stormed out of the room.

Wondering just what it was the set his best friend off, Harry moved across to Ron's bed and picked up the letter and the two crumpled photographs. Reading the letter quickly, a quizzical look popping up on his face, he did his best to un-crumple the photographs, goggling in shock as he looked at them.

Harry jumped up off the bed and ran after his best mate, calling for him as he went, unsure of what Ron would do, but positive that it wouldn't be a good thing.

"Ron…I'm sure this isn't what it looks like!!"

Arthur Weasley had been sitting quietly with his wife in his arms, rocking her gently as they sat on their bed. She was crying once again as she looked through an old family photo album, reliving the days when her children were all alive and healthy and the war hadn't stolen one of her babies from her.

"It's going to be alright, Mollywobbles," Arthur said, softly, kissing her cheek, ignoring the saltiness of her tears, "We're going to get through this."

"I miss him, Arthur," she sobbed, "He was such a good boy…and all I ever did was yell. I'm such a horrible mother."

"That's enough of that," Arthur said, a touch of sternness in his voice, "You're a wonderful mother, not only to our own children, but to Harry and Hermione as well. They love you, and they know that you love them."

"But Fred…"

"Fred knew it, too, Molly. He knew you loved him, and he knew you were proud of the businessman he'd become…knew you were proud of the man he'd become."

Molly broke down fully now, her body wracked with sobs as she buried her face in her husband's chest, weeping for the baby boy she'd lost and the babies she was still blessed enough to have alive and well. For the seventh night in a row, Molly Weasley cried herself to sleep in the gentle embrace of her loving husband.

It took him a few minutes to do so, but eventually Arthur managed to get Molly safely tucked into bed, placing the photo album once more on the nightstand next to their bed. He ran a calloused finger over the book, mottled with tear stains. The words Weasley Family Memories stood out in gilt letters upon the leather.

Arthur sighed, wiping tears from his own eyes as he went about readying himself for bed. He'd just slipped into his old, worn pajamas when there was a soft, but determined knock on the door. He turned back to look at his wife, making sure she was still asleep before he moved to answer the door.

"Ron?" Arthur seemed surprised at the sight of his youngest son standing at the door, a frantic look on his face, his jaw firmly set, dark circles under his eyes.

"Dad…I need to get to Australia…now!"

"Ronald…what is this all about?" Arthur asked as he slipped into the hall next to his son and quietly closed his bedroom door, "Australia?"

"I need to go Dad, right now," Ron repeated desperately, "It's Hermione…I…I have to go!"

"Is she in danger, Ron?" Arthur asked, growing concerned, "Do I need to alert the Order?"

"No…she's not in danger exactly," Ron said, running a frustrated hand through his messy red hair, "It's just…I really need to see her, Dad. I have to talk to her about…something."

"I'm sorry, Ronald," his father said compassionately, placing a comforting hand on his son's shoulder, "There's really nothing I can do for you tonight. Setting up an international Floo connection can only be handled by the Floo Network Authority, and they won't be open until Monday morning."

"But this is an emergency!" Ron exclaimed, doing his best not to raise his voice since he knew his mother was on the other side of the door, sleeping.

"Ron, I'm sorry, but it's the weekend," Mr. Weasley said, frowning as it seemed obvious his son would not relent, "The Ministry offices are closed, and even if they were opened for an emergency, you needing to talk to your girlfriend is not enough reason to rush the paperwork for an international Floo. Perhaps you should just owl her, and then we'll see if we can't set up a Floo call for you to speak with her on Monday."

Ron was about to retort…angrily most likely…when Harry came bounding down the steps calling for him.

"Ron! Ron wait a minute," Harry called, running up to the two Weasleys standing in the hallway, "This can't be how it looks. Hermione wouldn't cheat on you."

"What?! Ronald!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed, unable to believe his ears. He gave his son a disapproving glare, "How could you ever think that darling girl would ever do such a thing?!"

"I never said Hermione was cheating on me," Ron grumbled in his defense, shooting an evil look at Harry, "All I said was that I need to talk to her."

Before his father or Harry could say another word, Ron turned on his heel and stormed back up to his room. Mr. Weasley gave Harry a sympathetic look and Harry flashed an uncomfortable half-smile.

"Harry, what is this all about?" Mr. Weasley asked, putting a fatherly hand on the teen's shoulder.

"Ron got a letter from…somebody," Harry began explaining, not caring whether or not Ron would want his father to know about this, "The letter had some pictures of Hermione and…Viktor Krum…together…in Australia."

"Oh dear…"

Ron slammed the door shut as he tromped back into his bedroom. He grabbed the photos of Hermione and Viktor Bloody Krum off his bed, noticing they were now un-crumpled – no doubt thanks to Harry, Ron thought – and glared at the first one he'd seen…the one of Hermione and the great Bulgarian pumpkin-head in the inn.

His father couldn't help him, and Ron knew he'd never make it all the way to Australia on his Cleansweep. There was one other way…but it was risky; he-could-die risky. He concentrated on the background of the photograph – concentrated on the inn – ignoring Hermione and Krum and all the people. If he was going to do this…if he was going to survive doing this, Ron had to have an absolute clear picture in his head…a clear picture of his destination.

Truthfully, Ron had no idea if this would even work…if it could even work. Still, he had to see Hermione…had to talk to her. Tomorrow was Sunday…the shop was closed. He could go to Australia, talk to Hermione, and still be back in time for work Monday morning.

Ron gathered up the letter and the second photo, folding them carefully and tucking them in his pocket. He then grabbed his wand and stared deeply into the photo with the inn, concentrating on the inn…on the space two feet in front of the bar…the nice, vacant spot.

"Deliberation, Determination, Destination," Ron repeated in his head as he concentrated on that spot in the photograph. Taking out his wand, he closed his eyes, picturing that location in the inn. Turning on the spot, Ron Disapparated with a loud crack just as the door to his bedroom opened and a stunned Harry Potter walked through the door.

-- End Chapter 14 --

Author's End Notes: Well, I guess I'll leave it to you to decide whether this chapter sucked or not. Ch. 15 will be up tomorrow as scheduled.