A/N:
Sorry for the delay on this one. I've been really trying to stick to my schedule of uploading a chapter every Sunday. Unfortunately work, a bit of writers block, and life prevented that from happening.
I aim to have the next chapter to you back on schedule. But I shan't make promises. Work is keeping me very busy at the moment.
Once again, thank you so very much for all the follows, favourites and reviews. You're all amazing people for your kind words. It keeps me writing.
I hope you enjoy. We are working towards some answers, I promise.
If you are sill here. I'm truly grateful.
Cheers,
ATG
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Chapter Fourteen
Wednesday July 5th 2000
"Do you think you should take the promotion?" Matthew Campbell asked, if only to distract himself from the tedious droll of traffic and the incessant jingles of the peak hour radio.
His wife, distracted by their daughter in the back seat simply turned to look at him.
"Do you think I shouldn't?" she asked simply. The question wasn't a test, anyone who knew them knew that. They were just that kind of couple. They didn't hide behind nice words, they sought truths out where they lay. It was the basis of their communication and the foundation of their relationship.
"You know I'm not saying that." He said with a shake of his head. "I'm just saying that you seem to be settling into being a mother, and you've mentioned that you want to give Angelica a sibling. A promotion into an area that is still being built is going to be long hours – extra-long – considering the hours you already work, and less time with Angelica."
Jane turned again towards Angelica, the toddler happily singing tunelessly in the back seat. For whatever his obvious goals, he was right.
"I don't like the idea of our children being raised by Nannies." She said simply. "They are our children. We should raise them. Raise them in our own way."
"Hey." He said softly, his anger entirely fake. "There's nothing wrong with being raised by nannies. Look how we turned out."
Jane just rolled her eyes at her husband. "And how is your father going?" She asked pointedly.
"Buggared if I know. Haven't heard that the old bastard has dropped dead though. Still haven't seen him since the wedding."
Jane turned around again to marvel at her daughter, happy in the back seat. "Do you want that kind of relationship with Angelica when she grows up?"
Matt shook his head. "Which is my point. You know I'd never get in the way of your career, you know that. I have never said no to your career moves, ever. It just seems that moving into this completely new area of government will make it harder for us to give Angelica a sibling any time soon."
Jane smiled at her husband. She reached out and gently ran the back of her hand over his cheek.
"Are you feeling clucky, dear?" She asked with a smile.
"I'm always clucky, dear." He said back with the same smile. "So clucky that if we ever get out of this traffic, I'll show you exactly how clucky I am."
Jane laughed and leaned forward to kiss her husband on the cheek. "I'll hold you to that."
He turned and winked at her.
"Besides," he said. "You still haven't told me what the department is or what it will be doing."
She shrugged. "They haven't told me. Just that it's been in concept phase for a long time, with some background work. Now it's being progressed. It is expanding. Paulson told me that they had asked for people with my kind of background. Seems like a simple choice. A chance to move up a bit."
"Well." Matt said simply. "I'm proud of you either way. But if you need to do this, go and do it. We can wait another year or two. We aren't nearly so old as all that."
She smiled and leaned forward, giving him another kiss on the cheek. "Thank you dear. You're a good person, don't let anyone tell you different. Especially not me."
She finished with a wink.
"I love you too." He said, shaking his head at her.
She looked back and saw that Angelica was still happily singing along to her song. It brought a smile to Jane's face.
How I love that little girl.
She turned and looked out the window. The bumper-to-bumper traffic and torrential rain took her smile away.
"It's awful out there." She said simply.
"You aren't wrong." Said Matt another deep sigh. "As long as one day we can leave London and leave all this horrible traffic behind us."
She reached over and clasped his hand. "One day."
They settled into an easy silence. Silent except for the dull drone of the radio and the light singing of their daughter in the back seat.
"And back with traffic. The Brockdale bridge is showing signs of heavy congestion. If you are heading that way, it is recommended you find an alternate route. Traffic has slowed to a crawl and it isn't getting easier out there."
Jane looked at Matthew who was looking out the front window with an actual look of nothing on his face. It was blank. He was bored. She knew he was bored. He had always despised the London traffic.
That news broadcast had certainly not helped.
"Has Halloween come early?" He said suddenly.
"Still October 31st last I checked. Why do you ask?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Someone needs to tell these blokes. That and to get off the bloody road, it's blocked enough as it is."
Jane leaned across her husband and saw several figures moving around in the middle of the road. They were clad in black. In all black. Head to toe.
Except masks. They wore pale masks. Pale masks that in the distance and the rain, she couldn't quite make out.
The rain didn't seem to bother them. She could see them starting to spread out. One was walking down the bridge towards them.
"Probably some protest. Or public art or something. But that manner of dress is absolutely ridiculous." Her husband said nonchalantly as he watched the figure that walked down the bridge on the middle of the road.
Jane wasn't so sure. She wasn't so sure at all.
"I don't like this, Matt."
Matt reached over and patted her knee thoughtfully. "I'm sure it's nothing dear. Just some people trying to get recognised for something or other."
She watched as the figure moved until he was in line with the car. He was standing right next to the driver side door. Matt glanced uneasily at the figure. All that initial confidence was gone. He was nervous.
She didn't like it when Matt was nervous.
She saw him reach out and lock the car. He was trying to be subtle, but he really wasn't.
She saw the figured head turn and look at them. It cocked slightly to the side as if appraising them. For the first time, Jane got a proper look at the mask.
White. Like a skull, or a spectre. The mouth was pulled back into a cruel smile and the eyes were hidden. She couldn't see anything that identified the person.
Somehow, and she was unable to tell how or why, she just knew that the figure behind the mask was smiling. It was not a pleasant smile. It was vicious. It took great delight in something.
She didn't want to find out what that was.
The figure pulled a small stick from the pocket of its robes and raised it towards the sky.
Jane found her breath caught in her throat as she watched.
"It's just a protest, dear." Matt said. It would have been convincing if it wasn't so completely unconvincing. It would have sold it to her if it hadn't been so scared. Something was wrong. So very, very wrong.
The figure turned its head and looked back down to the bridge towards where the other figures were.
He figure yelled something out as he pointed the stick towards the bridge supports.
A shot of blue light flew from the end of the stick and shot up towards the suspension that helped hold the bridge up. She leaned forward and watched in horror as the blue light crashed into the pillar of the bridge. She could see ahead that a similar bolt of blue light had done similar to the pillar ahead of her.
Debris and shrapnel from the explosion flew out and the bridge let out a long groan.
Jane turned and saw the figure. It again looked at her with a cocked head, before it turned briefly and was gone. The figure just disappeared. Gone. Vanished into thin air. There was nothing to suggest that the figure had even existed except for the brief groan as the bridge gave way.
The suspension cables snapped and whirled. She saw as one flew around like a gigantic deadly whip.
It came down hard on the traffic in front of her. She could only watch in stunned, muted horror as the cable ripped through a line of cars, completely slicing them in half.
That's when the screams started.
People fleeing their cars and running back towards the land.
But there was no way they would make it. No way at all.
The bridge heaved up and down, rising and falling like it was on a wave.
Cables sliced around like the deadly tendrils of a long fabled deep-sea monster.
Jane reached out and grabbed the handle near the door as she was flung up and down, kept only in her seat by her seatbelt.
She turned as much as she could to see Angelica screaming in the back seat.
"Matt!" she screamed. He was doing his best to try and get around to Angelica, but it was no good, the buffeting up and down of the bridge was making it impossible to fight to get to her.
The long groan of metal and concrete heaving under the pressure gave way to the unmistakable sound of tearing metal and breaking concrete.
She watched in abject horror as the bridge just completely splintered apart in front of her, plummeting down towards the water, where man made engineering met natures River Thames.
Matt pulled on the handbrake, as if it would do anything. The car careened forward into the one in front of it.
The car behind slammed into the back of theirs. Her window smashed from the impact at the same time as the airbags deployed.
She reeled back form the impact of the air bag and glass that cut her face. Her vision swam with the blood and the impact of the safety device.
She blinked blood out of her eyes and looked up to see what was happening.
Debris began to fly past the line of cars that were protected only by each other.
People. Bikes. Cars. Lorries.
Even a bus went flying past the vehicle. Obviously not buffeted by anything in front of them as it screamed towards the water.
Jane turned around desperately, to try and get to the screaming and crying Angelica.
Matt had beat her to it. He was already out of his seat and was wrestling with the restraints of the child seat.
"The restraints are stuck!" He screamed, the panic in his voice evident with its volume, loud as it was to be heard over the din of the collapsing bridge. He started screaming profanities as he wrestled with the straps.
Jane undid her own seatbelt and tried to get around to help him, but there wasn't enough room.
She could feel the car continuing to drag towards the water below.
"Hurry Matt! Please! Please!" She was screaming and crying her own tears now.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a car go flying off the side of the bridge, as if it had been picked up and thrown.
Like a child had thrown it in a tantrum.
Then another.
A bus.
A taxi.
Finally, she turned and looked back at the impossibly canted bridge and descending traffic.
The black robed figure was walking down the road. Down the impossible tilted road. He looked like he was on a merry, Sunday stroll. As if nothing around him was amiss or astray.
He flicked his hand holding the stick back and forth as he went, as if he was doing nothing as nefarious as throwing bread to the swans.
The bread, however, were several tonnes of modern vehicle.
The swans were the Thames.
And the distance the cars flew was impossible.
What struck her about the image was the impossible cant of the road as he went. He matched the angle of the road as if it was perfectly flat and he was walking normally.
He came up next to her car and cocked his head towards her again. This time he flicked his stick at them.
The car was lifted completely from the road and thrown over the side of what was left of the bridge. It was as if a gigantic child had had a tantrum and discarded their car like an unwanted toy.
The car tumbled as it flew. Rolling in the air.
End over end over end.
The force of the roll threw her bodily out the window. With only her leg caught around the pillar of the door.
Still, it flew. End over end over end.
She screamed as the world became grey sky and blue rolling water. Bridge, sky, water. It was all she could see in the high velocity of the roll.
Bridge. Sky. Water.
Grey. Grey. Blue.
Grey. Grey. Blue.
Something had to give. That something was her leg.
She felt something snap, and her leg came free, sending her flying completely free of her vehicle as she careened towards the water.
She bounced along the water like a skimmed stone until she came to a stop against a collection of flotsam that had already flown free.
Desperately, as the world began to turn to black, she grabbed a hold of the flotsam and hooked her arms around it.
She looked around. The chaos of the attack was still evident. Cars were still flying through the air, or sliding down the destroyed bridge towards the water. Both sides of the split were sending traffic to the watery deeps.
She could hear screaming.
Endless screaming.
Screaming. Sirens. The impossibly loud creak of breaking concrete and metal.
She looked around. Panic setting in.
Angelica. Matt.
She looked to where she thought her car had landed, just in time to see the boot go under. Taken by the water.
Taken by the Thames.
She summoned all her strength to swim towards it. But it wasn't enough. Pain and shock set in, and unconsciousness beckoned.
The darkness beckoned.
She fought it. Oh, how she fought it. How she struggled.
But it wasn't enough.
She desperately reached out and hooked herself on the flotsam again.
But eventually it claimed her. The darkness claimed her.
As the water claimed those that she loved.
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Thursday September 10th, 2012
His absence woke her.
The absence of him from the bed, from holding her, from feeling him against her pulled her from her sleep. The absence of things feeling right with the world, that absence, dragged her back into consciousness.
But as wrong as the world was, it had all felt right, felt good, felt wonderful when she had been wrapped up in his arms as they went to sleep the night before.
She had felt, in that brief moment, that the world outside did not exist. That all the issues of the world couldn't get in.
She loved that feeling. That feeling of peace.
That feeling that was as noticeably absent as he was.
"James?" She whispered into the darkness.
Silence.
She raised herself up, reaching out for him. But he wasn't there.
She felt a small tinge of fear rise up in her chest. "James?" she called, louder now.
She pulled the blankets off of herself and stood from the bed, grabbing the overly large Regiment shirt that was lying on the ground from where it had landed when James had removed it in a rush to get at her. When he had tossed it away in his need to feel her.
She noticed that his pants and shirt were no longer on the ground from where she had tossed them in the burning need of her own that she had to feel him.
She padded out of the bedroom, only pausing briefly to grab her wand on the way through. One could never be too careful. Not in this day and age.
She gently made her way down the stairs and found him in the sitting room. He was seated on the couch. A half glass of amber fluid sat on the coffee table and he held his wand in his hands. He was staring at it. Moving it around in his fingers, examining it in every way possible.
She paused at the entrance. Not wanting to intrude.
But at the same time, wanting to intrude, very badly.
She watched as he took a hold of his wand by the handle and gave it a wave. A stream of red and gold shot from the end. When he finished his wave he just stared as the sparks fizzled out in the air in front of him.
She decided to intrude.
"If you want to play with your wand, James, it would be much more fun to let me play too." Hermione said with a smirk as she entered the room, breaking his revere.
He turned and chuckled softly. "I would have thought you would have gotten your fill of playing with my wand." He said softly back, watching her as she gently walked up and sat on the couch next to him. "But if you are saying you have room for more…" He trailed off suggestively.
Well, half-heartedly so.
"I don't think I'll ever not have room for more." She said with a smile, as she settled into the couch.
There was something on his mind. She could see that. It was plain as day.
Hermione took his hand between both of hers and raised it up to her mouth, where she gently placed a kiss on the back of his hand.
"A P?" She said softly.
He turned and offered her a small smile.
"It's been a lot to take in." He began softly. "A lot. I woke up and my mind was all over the shop. So, I figured I might come down here, as I didn't want to wake you with the gears that were turning in my head."
She nodded gently as she kissed his hand again.
"Want to talk about it?"
James blew out a breath.
"Sorry. Let me rephrase. How about we talk about it." She said, a small smile rising on her face.
He gently snorted. "I can't tell if you're being insistent or not… You might have to make that clearer?" He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
She just smiled at him again. He looked tired. There were bags under his eyes. He needed sleep. She could see that. They both did. Especially considering that the world hadn't waited around for them to get to spend some time just enjoying each other.
The world had had other plans. As was usual when it came to Harry Potter.
"I was just thinking over everything you have told me. About my past. About Voldemort and my parents and you, me, and Ron. About Hogwarts. It's been a lot to think about."
She nodded to him, as she reached out to play with his hair. She couldn't help herself. She loved his hair too much. And playing with it seemed to get him to speak, so it had a double benefit.
"What about it, James?" She said softly, encouraging him to continue.
He turned his bottle green eyes on her, and they bored into her. Into her eyes. Into her soul.
"Aside from the fact that about four weeks ago I had no idea that magic even existed. All I wanted was to get back to my unit. Back to the lads. That was my goal. It was how I spent my time."
He looked at her thoughtfully.
"Then you came, and you changed everything. Everything about my life got completely knocked off course in the instant that Hermione Granger shook my hand in St Michaels. Hermione Granger who knew more about me than I did. Beautiful, loving, Hermione Granger."
He winked at her. She swatted him gently on the chest.
He laughed, all music and mirth.
"But then, MI5 came back into my life too."
The mirth faded.
"And suddenly Mrs Jones is sending me around the countryside, fighting witches and wizards. Aurors and Death Eaters. Fighting in defence of the UK, as she put it."
He absently drew little drawing on the back of her hand as she looked thoughtful.
"And now I learn I was some chosen one, 'Luke Skywalker', 'Neo', type in another life."
He gently pulled her hand to his lips and gave it a soft and lingering kiss.
"Anakin Skywalker." She said softly.
He raised his eyebrows to her.
"Anakin Skywalker was the chosen one."
He shot her a lopsided grin and rolled his eyes.
She returned the grin and kissed his hand again.
"So, now I have to keep trying to live my life normally as James Black, in order to learn more about a government I've served for ten years, to report back to a government I've never met. A government, that by some of the stories you told earlier, hasn't exactly done me right either."
Hermione brought his hand between her legs. Not in a sexual way, she just wanted to envelop him as much as she could.
"Because I need to use James Black's life to help Harry Potter's."
Hermione took one of her hands and ran it through his hair again.
He leaned forward and kissed her. It was loving. It was affectionate and she returned it. She returned it with all the passion of everything she felt for him. And he injected all the same into her.
It was a heartstopper of a kiss.
One borne of desperation and need. One born of a moment stolen for them. Stolen from the world that was seeking to make these moments a rarity.
Briefly all other thoughts left her mind. All thoughts that the conversation was just beginning. That he was opening up and she would do well to listen.
They got lost in that moment.
The kiss deepened. They joined bodies on the lounge as he leaned down crawl on top of her.
Her hands reached up and enveloped his face as his weight began to rest comfortably on top of her.
It was a lovely kiss. One she never wanted to end.
But, much to her consternation. He broke the kiss. Pulling back and resting his forehead to hers.
"James. Why. Did. You. Stop." She said through gritted teeth, her body telling her that stopping was horrible, horrendous and unwelcome.
He chuckled again slightly. "I'll be right with you. I just wanted to ask you something first."
She could see in his eyes that he was willing his own body to calm down for just a moment. To calm down enough to ask.
"It's something that has been playing on my mind after everything you and Ron told me."
She nodded at him to continue.
"Am I bad for the magical world? Is it better that I was not there for the last decade?"
Her mouth dropped open. She made to make a furious and immediate negative reply, but he cut her off.
"I'm not asking out of pity. I'm not. I promise. I am more thinking further down the line. Say you can't get me my memory back, or even if you can. Say we managed to prevent this war and return some normalcy to the world, what next?"
"Why would you think that you are bad for the wizarding world?" Her voice was a near whisper.
James laughed softly. "Well, just listening to you and Ron. You told all those stories about how Voldemort came back. It was all because of me. He hunted me. He fought me. There was a fucking prophecy about both of us. But it was because of me that he came back and we had to have that epic, end of the movie, 'duel of the fates' show down."
He paused as if to collect his thoughts.
"And now, just as the world aligns for me to return to the wizarding world, this all happens. And a large part of this is because of me as well. At the very least, I'm caught in the middle. So, I guess I'm just trying to think long term here. It's not something I do a lot of. I'm much more a 'in the moment' type. But I can't shake it from my mind."
Hermione found herself speechless. He hadn't asked out of pity. There had been no trace of self-depreciation in his voice. No sign that he needed affirming.
It had just been his honest assessment.
"Has there been any calamities over the past ten years? Any major troubles or dramas that would rival Voldemort and this current situation?"
Hermione bit her lip.
"No. No James there hasn't. With magic comes catastrophe, but nothing as significant as all this."
He just nodded as he looked away from her and over at the fireplace.
"Well. There you go." He said, his voice even.
"I don't think this calamity, as you put it, is because of you, James." She said softly.
He shrugged.
"I certainly haven't helped. And it sounds like I've contributed more than my fair share."
She didn't know what to say to that. This was not a conversation she had foreseen. Not a conversation that had ever entered her mind.
He turned and smiled at her. "How about we cross that bridge if we get to it, eh?" He said, encouragingly.
As encouragingly as someone could say that, after having said everything else.
"If all else fails, I can stay in the Regiment. I have the lads there. I'm good at it, if I do say so myself. We'd be close to Peyton, Lucky and Lily. It wouldn't be a bad life. It's not a bad life."
He paused.
"If you'd still have me, of course."
It was said shyly. Almost begging. Uncertain. Afraid.
She turned his head back towards herself and gave him a long and deep kiss.
"I'll tell you as many times as you need to hear it James." She said softly, looking deeply into those green pools. "I'm not going anywhere."
He looked right back at her. Then he nodded gently. A small grateful smile played over his lips.
She placed her forehead back onto his.
Hermione was not even slightly convinced. It wasn't something she had put much thought into if she was honest. In her mind she would restore his memory and he would find work in the magical world. Maybe he would go and be an Auror, it seemed to fit alongside his current work.
Not that she would ever encourage him to do that if he didn't want to. She would be content to let him choose whatever work that made him happy.
In fact, if she actually thought about it, she could do with him not being an Auror. She could do with him taking a step away from risking his neck and his life.
But now, a small amount of fear rose up inside of her.
I don't like his work.
He caught it. Perceptive one that he was when it came to her.
"Hey." He said gently, pulling her from her reverie. "As long as I still have you, we will find our place in this world. I'm sure of that."
She couldn't help but smile at him. She found herself unable to speak but contented herself to offer several enthusiastic nods.
He kissed her. It was a deep and affectionate kiss. It was a loving kiss.
They broke apart and fell into a comfortable silence.
"You have money, James." She said softly.
He raised a single eyebrow to her.
"You had a very large inheritance when your parents died. Which became even larger when your godfather died. It was all bequeathed to you. Then when you –" She took a deep breath. She still didn't like saying it. "When you – died. You left most of it to Ron, your godson Teddy and I."
James looked at her and just nodded. Taking the information in. She could tell he wanted to ask about the god child. But he seemed to think better of it. Not that he didn't care, but that it was just another conversation to have.
"I'm more than happy to give it all back James. It's your money. Your family's money. I've just made some investments and – "
He cut her off with a kiss.
"Let's not even bother worrying about all that right now. Money is the furthest thing from my mind. It's your money, as far as I'm concerned."
She just looked at him.
"We will add that conversation to the list." She said sternly.
James just nodded and pecked her on the cheek.
"All the way down the bottom."
She gave him another look than rolled her eyes. He smiled at her.
He ran his hand along her cheek, his eyes boring searching into hers. She could tell by the way he looked at her that he was waiting for her to speak.
Am I that transparent?
To him, yes.
She finally said what she had been meaning to say.
"I don't like this plan, James."
He nodded, sighing deeply. "Got a better one?" He asked. There was no accusation in his voice. None. It was more, resignation. Acceptance.
She hated that she didn't. It made sense. It made perfect sense. There was risk, of course there was, but it did well to keep Peyton, Lucky, and Lily safe from MI5. The risk, as was usual for plans that involved Harry Potter, centred almost entirely around himself.
"This could all go wrong. So horribly, horribly wrong. It's risky."
He spoke again. "I don't like it either. But Mrs Jones seems attached to me. So, I might be able to learn more about what's going on. Maybe that information can be used to prevent a war between magical people and non-magical people."
"It's a noble goal, James. One I would not expect anything less than from you. I just don't like that you are effectively bait."
James shrugged. "Judging from what you told me, bait is something I'm a bit of expert in." He shot her a look. "Besides, better me than Peyton and Lucky."
Hermione fixed him with a glare. "And how well did that work out for you last time?"
He shot her a look and his lips curled into a lopsided grin. "I dunno. Don't remember."
She rolled her eyes but couldn't stop the gentle tug of her lips as they rose, against her better judgement.
He laughed at her smile. His expression of glee fixed upon her. "Fuck, I love your smile."
That turned her reluctant grin into a full-blown smile.
He nodded. "Yeah. That one."
She gently swatted him on the chest, but his free hand caught hers.
Their eyes met. Her brown orbs meeting his emerald pools.
They just looked searchingly at each other for a long moment.
She saw the love in his eyes. The happiness. The gratitude, despite everything. She saw the tenderness. It made her heart fit to burst.
She leaned forward and kissed him tenderly on the lips. She could feel him smiling in the kiss. She loved that about him. That her simple act of affection could make him smile that happily.
That that happiness could be attributed to her. That she could do that to him.
They pulled apart from the kiss after a while, breathless. All swollen lips and flushed cheeks.
She looked into his eyes and saw that as happy as he was to be there. Questions, endless questions burned in his eyes.
Questions and curiosities about everything and anything.
When Ron had finally accepted that James wasn't going into the Ministry, they had settled down and managed to spend a few hours reminiscing, before they headed to the hospital to visit Peyton and Lucky.
Lucky still hadn't woken.
James had listened intently, laughing at some of their antics and shaking his head at others.
It had been lovely to have seen and been a part of. She couldn't deny that. It hadn't exactly been how she had planned that happening, but in the end, sometimes the best things weren't planned.
And now they were here. In his home. Happy. A moment of happiness in what would otherwise be just a stolen moment.
And stolen it was. She knew he would be called away again soon. She didn't know how much time they had before that would happen. She didn't know when she would see him again.
She lived her life in dread of the ringing of his phone.
But she could see him now. And she refused to let anything get in the way of that.
It hurt, because when he was there, he was real. He was tangible. She could touch him, she could kiss him, she could make love to him. She could do all of the things she had lost for the last ten years.
When he was gone, she was worried that it had all been a dream. That he was still dead. That all of this was just a long-held dream of her deepest regrets come to life.
They were her dreams though. Hers.
But despite all of that. Despite everything that he had learnt. Everything they had experienced together; he was a man who was wondering where his place in the world was.
"Maybe we need to work on my memory." He said softly.
She offered him a warm, gentle, smile.
"Why don't we work on that in the morning? We told Peyton this afternoon we'd visit Lucky again around lunchtime tomorrow. So why don't we take the morning for that?"
James nodded.
"I'd like that."
She smiled at him again. "Me too."
He leaned forward and kissed her gently. Her other hand released his and came up to cradle his face. As the kiss deepened.
She pulled him on top of her and they continued to kiss, her hands around his face, refusing to let him go, his running up and down her leg and under the oversized shirt.
She groaned into him as his hand found her hips and hinted at a journey across.
One of her hands grabbed a hold of his shirt and tugged, pulling him closer to her. Deepening the kiss as much as she could, her need, her warmth, her fire, pulling him to her.
He pulled back and she went right with him, as he swept her up, over and easily so that she was sitting on his lap.
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Thursday September 10th, 2012
The four masks were laid out neatly next to each other on the table.
Each of them had a small hole in the centre of their foreheads. Aside from the masks, there was no sign that four people had been living in this shack for several weeks.
The magical signs were still there. It had been expanded, and four beds were scattered around.
But there was no other sign. No strewn and discarded clothes, no empty bottles of alcohol, no food scraps. Nothing.
Just four masks. Sitting on the table. Four masks that stared and leered up at the three men as they stood in the shack.
Four masks and a note. A note that one of the men now held in his hands.
"Robards will pay for this." Growled Greyback as he paced around the room. Unable to stand still. His nervous energy flowing through as he continued to move, despite the agonising stillness of the other two men.
"If you don't stop pacing, I will curse you until you do." Came from Rodolphus, who was leaning against a wall nearby, examining the surroundings. He held a wand in his hands and by the look in his eye, it was not an idle threat.
"This was not Robards." Spoke the third man finally. "Robards is by the book. He does not gloat, nor does he leave trophies to find. If this was Robards, we would have found nothing. Nothing at all."
Antonin Dolohov had not moved from where he stood. He stared down at the four masks and gripped the note tightly in his hand. Each mask was pulled into a different expression of smiling, leering or grinning.
"Who then?" Greyback growled again. Dolohov was tired of the half breed. He let too much of his werewolf characterisations rule him. It was simply annoying at this point. He would send him to live with another cell. Useful as he was, Dolohov needed to think, not be pestered by inane questions from werewolves.
"Muggles." Dolohov answered finally.
"Muggles?" Greybacks tone was sceptical. He turned and bared his teeth towards Rodolphus who was leaning against the door and merely offered him a shrug.
Dolohov was disgusted by the canines that protruded from Greybacks mouth. He knew that the Dark Lord had kept him around for his ability to instil fear, but it was more disgust he felt when he looked at him.
"How in Merlin's name, are muggles capable of taking down these four? You've gone mad, Dolohov. Mad."
Greyback spat as he began pacing around the shack again.
"How indeed." Came from Rodolphus in the corner. "How indeed." He repeated. He had began tapping his wand against the wall.
Dolohov knew that Rodolphus was still getting used to the strange wand. It hadn't quite accepted him as its master yet. That would have to change. He had been lying low long enough. He had been building long enough.
A moment of rage burnt inside Dolohov as he stared at the masks.
This cell had been one of his best. His warriors. They were amongst his best duellists. They were his finest fighters. He had had big plans for them.
And now they were dead. Killed by muggles.
Muggles who would pay. Muggles who would learn their place in this world. Muggles who would learn to bow to their betters.
Or he would destroy every single one of them. Every single thing they had built.
He would bring their world to ruin.
"What's the plan, Antonin?" Rodolphus asked from his place by the door.
"The muggles have shown their intentions." Dolohov sneered as the leering masks stared blankly at him. "They have played their hand. I intend to punish them for this."
Greyback's sneer turned into a smile. It was vicious and it was cruel.
Even Rodolphus pulled himself off the wall.
"This is what happens when you make deals with Muggles." Rodolphus said with a shrug.
"You made a deal with muggles?" Sneered Greyback.
"Deals that got you wands in your hands." Dolohov rounded on Rodolphus and Greyback. "Deals that got you free from your cages. Free from the prisons. Free to find the Dark Lord and return him to glory. Free to finish what we started. Free to gloat and glib from the corner."
Rodolphus merely looked Dolohov calmly in the eyes.
"I was just saying." He said with another shrug.
"Well don't. If they won't give us the Dark Lord, we shall have to take him. Our rewards will come upon his ascension."
Dolohov turned away from the masks. He turned and looked over at Rodolphus, who was playing with the wand in his hand.
He glanced back down at the note in his hand that had sat from the table.
Honour the deal
"Simple instructions to all cells. Recruit." He paused. "Aggressively."
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Hermione sighed contentedly into his chest. They had found the floor and were currently lying on his rug, in front of the fireplace. She would have to send James on a Search and Rescue mission to find where their clothes had ended up after that.
But right now, she didn't care about clothes. She didn't care about finding them.
But she did care about the sensation of his hand moving up and down on her back.
Yes. That she cared about.
Up and down. Making lazy shapes on her back as they lay on the rug.
She couldn't see his face, but she could feel, she could sense that he was relaxed. He was calm. He was happy.
That was her favourite thing.
She felt him lean forward and kissed her hair. She sighed deeply into his chest.
"I see I have a new picture on my mantle." He said softly into her mane.
She smiled and raised herself so that she could see his eyes. They blazed bright emerald at her as she looked into his eyes.
"And I see that you have a new picture on your chest of drawers."
He smiled back at her.
"Great minds think alike." She whispered to him, as she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.
"Or fools never differ." He shot back at her with a raised eyebrow.
She smiled and leaned down to kiss his chest.
"I didn't know Peyton took a picture. A picture of our almost first kiss." She mumbled into his chest from in between kisses along his chest.
He shrugged. "She must have. She planted it in the house when we were at your parents. Thought we might like it."
She nodded as she kissed up his chest until her lips joined his.
"Thanks for that picture, Hermione. It's wonderful. Lily looks adorable."
She kissed him again and smiled.
"It's my pleasure."
He smiled at her. "And speaking of gifts." He started but was interrupted by her kissing him again.
"Someone. Has. A. Birthday." He managed to get out between those kisses.
She leaned back to look into his eyes.
"What would you like to do for your birthday, Hermione?" He said, raising an eyebrow to her.
"You." She said simply, with a smirk.
He snorted, "Well yes, that's a given. But what else."
She was thoughtful for a moment. What would she like to do?
She couldn't do what she normally did. That was out of the question. As much as she would love nothing more than to do exactly that. This time it would be different. This time he would be there and everyone would get to see him and he could see those people that love him so much.
It could be her own birthday gift to him.
Besides. It might just help him figure out what he was fighting for in the magical world. It might help him to see that the magical world was something he could be happy in. Something worth the sacrifice he was making.
She knew that they would get through this. They always did. They had to, didn't they? There was no other choice.
Surely if they got through Voldemort, they could get through this.
Surely.
Surely, they could get through this period of strife and uncertainty.
Surely.
Don't sound too confident Granger.
She didn't know when her own subconscious had become so sarcastic.
But it was the other side that seemed so uncertain.
Portrait Dumbledore's words echoed around her head.
He may not wish to come back.
"I honestly don't know, James." She sighed as she reached a hand up and began to play with his hair. "Normally I go to the Weasley's for my birthday lunch and then my parents for dinner. Obviously, with everything going on, and no one but Ron knowing that you are alive, we can't really do the lunch this year. Maybe we should have lunch together with Peyton, Lucky and Lily?"
James just looked at her for a good long minute. His eyes met hers and they danced in the energy that flowed between them.
He looked thoughtful for a moment. She played with his hair and watched as he looked up at the ceiling, clearly deep in thought.
"Okay." He said softly.
"Okay, we will go to lunch with Lucky and Peyton? Depending on how Lucky is of course?" She asked.
"Okay we can go to lunch at the Weasleys." He said, giving her a gentle smile.
She sat up and looked at him. "What?"
He shrugged.
"I thought we agreed that people shouldn't know you are alive just yet."
"We did."
"Well." She began. "What changed your mind?"
He leant forward and gave her a tender kiss. "You did." He smiled at her. "Look. Honestly. The way I see it, things are likely to get worse before they get better. The world is uncertain. Anything could happen. War could happen. What's the harm in having a bit of happiness, a bit of normalcy while we can?"
Hermione chewed her lip thoughtfully. "But word might get out that you're alive. That could make things even more dangerous for you."
James just nodded slowly. "Trouble is coming whether we want it to or not. But if this is what you want, and this brings you happiness in these times. Then fuck it. Come what may."
She couldn't help the big, face splitting smile that lit up her features.
She leaned down and kissed him again.
He looked thoughtful for a moment. "My first team leader in the Regiment was a stickler for normal in the abnormal. He insisted that birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays were all celebrated in some way, even if we were in middle of a long operation. Whether it was a whispered 'happy birthday' or a handshake for a wedding anniversary, they were all acknowledged.
Even in the middle of combat. It's something I've tried to keep in my team. It's your birthday. Let's celebrate and acknowledge it as normally as possible, even in the midst of all this. In the long term, it may do us wonders."
Hermione sighed and lowered her head onto his chest.
I could get used to this.
You already are.
"Besides." He spoke again. "I'm really not an expert on family. You said mine had passed. Sounds like I didn't exactly have the easiest upbringing. It might be nice to see the family that adopted us."
She looked at him searchingly. "No. You didn't have the easiest upbringing."
The anger flared in her briefly as she recounted the Dursleys. Everything they had said. Everything they had done. The issues that they still caused in his belief of being unworthy of being loved.
He shrugged. "I kind of figured that."
"Why's that?"
He smiled at her softly. "A few scars here and there. I apparently shouldn't tell lies." He continued to stroke her back. She wanted to correct him but decided not to interrupt. "Besides, it's a common story around the Regiment. Look at Lucky. He grew up kicking a rugby league ball around. When his dad wasn't kicking him around."
Hermione thought for a moment that he was being very nonchalant about the entire experience. She looked at him concerned.
"But. We're here now. And I've got you. And you've got me. And I couldn't give a fuck about anything else right now. Death Eaters. MI5. Bad relatives."
Lucky he was already on the ground, because she threw herself once more into a long and loving kiss.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Thursday September 10th, 2012
Ron woke to his wife lying on her side and staring at him. Her hand was gently running up and down his bare chest as they lay in bed together.
He offered her a soft, warm, tired smile and reached out to stroke her growing belly.
He leaned forward and gave her a kiss.
"Mornin' beautiful." He said as he rubbed his nose against hers several times.
She smiled to him as her hand continued to run up and down his chest.
"Good morning, handsome."
She leaned forward and gave him another kiss as he sat up and gave a long stretch off both arms and an accompanying groan.
"What's wrong?"
He froze. Mid-stretch. Arms sprayed in different directions.
Slowly he turned back towards her.
Bloody frightening sometimes.
"Nothing. I just have to head to work and clear some stuff up early today."
Luna sat up and her hand automatically came to her slightly swollen belly. "Don't you dare lie to me Ronald."
He hung his head.
"I edit a newspaper. I know what people are saying. I know that people are scared. But all of that aside, I know you. I know you very well. You are tense. Very tense."
Ron turned and his blue eyes met her pale silver eyes.
He sighed.
I suck at this.
"It's just this stuff with the muggles. I've been assigned an investigation with Malfoy."
She nodded for him to continue.
"We have to investigate the fact that Harry Potter and Voldemort may have survived their final duel, and if they had or they hadn't, what became of their remains."
"And did they?"
Ron looked away. He bit his lip. He was torn. He knew he couldn't lie to his wife. But he had to. Didn't he?
They had agreed not to tell anyone. But surely. He would tell Luna. Surely.
He opened his mouth to speak, and it hit him. What Hermione had been through. The loyalty to Harry that had kept her from telling him. The loyalty to his cause to making sure it was done correctly that had led to her doing what she needed to do. That had led to her keeping it quiet.
He bowed his head.
All that anger he had been keeping inside of him. That anger at Hermione for leaving him out of it. That rage at having been sidelined started to fade.
It faded when he realised just how hard it must have been for her to keep this to herself.
Merlin knows he had wanted to apparate straight to the Burrow and tell his family. Tell his friends. Tell the world.
He wanted to scream it from his broomstick.
Harry Potter is alive!
But Hermione hadn't. She'd gone to work quietly and sought to get him back. She hadn't asked for help from anyone else.
He remembered that day at the Burrow. Judging from what she had said it must have been after she had found out. She had immediately set things into action in order to get it done.
To get it done subtly and efficiently. The Hermione way.
He had known something was up. It was clear. Something had definitely been up. Now he knew. And she didn't tell. She must have wanted to. She must have wanted to tell everyone.
But she didn't.
Maybe he could cut her some slack.
Maybe he could understand her position.
"Ronald. I'm not asking to publish this information. I'm asking to know this information. This information so I know exactly how much trouble you are in. How much at risk the father of our child is. I can feel that something is amiss. Something is happening. Something significant. I would just like to know what kind of world our son will be coming into."
Ron went to speak before the realisation of what she had just told him hit her.
Son?
Did she just say son?
His mouth dropped opened and no words came out. None at all. He, Ron Weasley, was speechless. Utterly and truly speechless.
"Son?"
Luna's face broke out into a teary smile. She nodded at him.
"Yes Ronald. Son. Your son. Our son. I found out the other day during my visit to the healer. It's to be a boy. Another Weasley Boy."
Luna saw something happened that she hadn't seen very often. That truthfully no one had seen very often. Something that didn't happen very often.
Generally, it only happened on one day of the year.
She saw tears start to stream out of his eyes. She felt as he lowered his head into the crook of her neck and let the tear flow down and onto her skin. She felt her skin become damp from the tears.
Her own eyes filled with tears at his outpouring of love. At his showing of emotion. The fact that he was demonstrating his own emotions to her, rare as it may be, was one of the signs she had often taken as a demonstration that he did love her.
He showed anger to other people of course. Anger, happiness and joviality. But seldom sadness. Seldom did the tears fall.
Any emotion that he did portray, normally ended up coming out as anger. It wasn't an uncommon trait in his family.
She held him close and let him cry into her. Her own tears falling down her cheeks.
It was a beautiful moment for them. A tender moment for them. A moment of love, between lovers. A moment just for them.
But something remained at the fringes. Something that she would find out by hook or by crook.
But for now, she would let him heave out his emotions to her.
Finally, he let out a long sigh and looked up at her. His eyes met hers. She offered him a pleasant smile. And he kissed her deeply into that smile.
"You aren't off the hook though, Ronald. You know something."
Ron looked up and looked into her eyes. He puffed out his cheeks in thoughts. Before exploding the air out.
"Harry's alive."
Of all the people who had ever heard anything as surprising as what she just had, she was one of those that did not react.
She was genuinely not surprised.
It was very Luna.
She just nodded, a dreamy expression on her face. "Of course, he is."
Ron looked at her in confusion.
She shrugged. "Who else would return from the dead in time for strife between our world and the muggle one? It's his style. He always did stroll in when it was convenient."
Ron shook his head.
"You can't tell anyone, Luna. Not a soul. It must be kept secret. Not even dad. Not the ministry. Not the wizarding public."
"Of course, Ronald. What do you take me for?"
"A newspaper editor?" He said cheekily.
She reached out and poked him in the forehad.
A large, dreamy smile broke across her face. "Hermione knows though, doesn't she?"
Ron nodded to his wife. "She found him."
Luna smiled a dreamy smile to her. "Of course, she did. They have been linked for a long time. It was a shame to watch Hermione suffer away from him."
Ron leaned down and kissed her belly. Her belly that contained his son. His son.
"They are together."
Luna smiled again. "They are? How wonderful. How wonderful indeed. I simply cannot begin to express how wonderful that is. They were always so silly with their avoidance of realising their feelings for each other."
Ron smiled back to his wife. "It's sickening. Really vomit worthy. However, he has no memory of anything before he woke up in a muggle hospital ten years ago. He's been serving in the muggle military ever since. Until Hermione found him."
Lune gave a sad smile, before she leaned forward and kissed her husband.
That was something that Ron loved about Luna. He didn't need to break in a long explanation about everything that had happened and everything he had learned. She would be consent with some bullet points.
She would extrapolate the rest. And when she did her own extrapolation, she was scarily accurate.
"You know the hidden bright side about this, don't you Ronald?" Luna said, her eyes becoming dreamy again. "Now we don't have to name our son Harry. What are your thoughts on Brencis?"
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Thursday September 10th, 2012
Ron sipped a tea as he waited at the end of his laneway.
He took a moment. A brief one. To appreciate everything as it was.
A son.
He couldn't wipe the smile off his face, and he looked over at his house that stood at the end of the cobblestone path that led from the laneway. It was a nice house. It was his house. His home. His home for Luna and he.
It was near Ottery St Catchpole. It was near home.
Merlin, It was home.
He could walk to the Burrow from here. Or he could apparate. He could fly a broomstick. It wasn't far. He always had choices, depending on how the mood struck him.
They could also walk to Luna's father's house. And they frequently did.
It truly had become home. After everything. After the war. Before he set out on the endless skirmishes, he was faced with at work to try and keep a lid on the peace that they had fought so hard to win.
A peace that threatened to blow over once again.
A soft crack announced the arrival of his partner.
"Tea?" He asked, without turning around, holding out a second cup and saucer.
"Thank you." Came the well-spoken, articulate voice of Draco Malfoy as he approached and took the tea from Ron.
"I will take the liberty of assuming you asked me to meet you here and not at your office because you have something secretive to tell me. Scared of prying ears, Weasley?"
Ron finally turned around to take the blonde man in.
"Who would have thought that an Unspeakable would be afraid of a little privacy." Ron replied raising an eyebrow at Draco.
"Point, Weasley. Point." He took a sip of the tea.
His very standing and bearing was entirely too regal. It was too much. It carried that hint of arrogance that he had had from school. That touch of class. Of old school Pureblood values that had been the opposite of those that had been ingrained into the Weasley clan.
"I have a lead. On something. It's related to our investigation and could help us in the long run." Ron said.
Draco raised an eyebrow as he took another sip of his tea.
"Where did this lead come from?"
"A source, Malfoy. I can't reveal any more than that. But I have a source who has identified that MI5 may have found a way to enchant muggle weapons and equipment to work, despite magical interference."
Malfoy nodded.
"That would indeed be the first hurdle, if they seek a war."
Ron nodded. "So, I'm learning. But if they have figured out a way to enchant their equipment, then it would stand to reason that they learnt that from a wizard. And who do you know that enchants muggle items for use in the magical world."
Despite himself. Despite his countenance. His years of trained body language and expression training. Despite how long he survived on his ability to mask everything. To mask feelings, emotions, reaction. He couldn't help the almost infinitesimal twitch of his eye as the realisation hit him.
Ron noticed.
"Why bring me? I know we are partnered up, but I would say that if you were to investigate your own family's business, you would want me nowhere near it."
Ron took another sip of his tea.
"Two reasons. First, you're marrying my sister. She may be about to become a Malfoy, but that means you are becoming a Weasley. It's time you fully appreciated what that meant. Everything that that means."
He took another sip as Draco only tilted his head towards him. Appraising him.
"Secondly, because I need your help." Ron said, looking down at his nearly drunk tea. "I need you to help me determine if they are lying to me. I'm too close to this. I don't want to believe that any of them are involved in this."
That had been hard to say, Ron would admit. He hated asking for help at the best of times, and this was not one of the best of times.
Draco took a sip of his tea and nodded. He knew there was something more to this. It wasn't directly related to their investigation. He would have thought this line of enquiry would have been held by one of the teams investigating MI5. But he didn't question it. It was intriguing, to say the least.
And Draco thought the Malfoys were bad.
"I thought you Auror's were well trained in interrogation and lying."
Ron nodded.
"We are." He said grimly. "But we don't have your experience. None of us do."
Draco nodded. There weren't many who had.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
"Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy walk into a joke shop." Said Fred.
"There's a joke there." Said George.
"There is indeed." Said Draco, surprising everyone.
They were in the Head Office of Weasleys Wizard Wheezes.
That was to say that they were in the medium sized office that lived above the home store. The first store. The Diagon Alley store.
Weasley Wizard Wheezes had expanded. Zonkos was gone now, a subsidiary of the ever-popular Weasley joke store.
It had exploded in popularity. They had a huge staff, that seemed to alternate between customer services and babysitting.
It was common that young witches and wizards would be left in the store while their parents did their shopping or visited Gringotts. Who would want Fred and George left unattended in a joke shop with their children remained a mystery to Ron, but that was none of his business.
Well not yet anyway.
A son.
"And what brings our youngest brother and soon to be brother-in-law into our shop on this most auspicious of days." Asked Fred.
Ron raised his eyebrow at his brothers. "What do you mean by that?"
"Haven't seen the Prophet then?" Asked George.
Ron shook his head. He had left before the paper had arrived, trying to get to see his brothers and their business before it got too busy.
George threw him the paper.
Ron felt the heat and colour running up his cheeks and into his ears as he read.
War Looms
Was the simple headline. Below it was a photograph, taken entirely for propaganda. It was a wizard photograph of the changing of the Guard outside Buckingham Palace. It showed row after row of scarlet coated British Soldiers marching through the square.
Because of the nature of the photograph, Ron could tell it was a simple loop. Because of that, it showed many more soldiers marching than actually would have been on parade.
Hermione had dragged him to the changing of the guard once. He had thought the whole thing highly ridiculous. She had loved it. So had Luna.
Because Luna had loved it. Ron had pretended he had too.
In all honest, he couldn't help think about the nutcrackers that used to march around the table at Christmas time, looking to crack anything they could get their wooden jaws on.
They had terrified him as a child.
Rumours from the Ministry indicate that four Auror's were killed by agents of the Muggle Government in a raid gone wrong in Croydon, South London last week.
While no confirmation had been received by the Ministry, the rumour has that the Auror's were baited into an exchange and soundly defeated by the muggles.
Numerous requests for comments were met with denials from the Ministry who deny that such agents exist, and that any talk of tension between the Magical Community and the Muggle Community is a fabrication.
Unconfirmed rumours have it that the Ministry of Magic has stepped up investigations into certain branches of Muggle Law Enforcement, hoping for a lead into how such an incident occurred.
Without any comment from the Ministry, it has been nothing but speculation and fear on the streets for the Wizarding Community. Fears of war with muggles has some people starting to speculate that perhaps too much leeway has been given to Muggles.
Muggleborn's continue to hope for a peaceful resolution to matters before they have to choose a side in what may just be, a new war for Wizardkind.
Continued on pages three and four.
Ron growled as he threw the paper back on the desk.
"It's all bollocks and you know it." He said to his brothers.
"Bollocks or not, it's going to give cause for people to start panic buying. Our defence stores will start flying off the shelves again. I've already had to start putting in more orders." Fred said.
"You sound like a war profiteer." Malfoy said simply to the pair of them.
"We're lowering prices. People need protection and we can provide it." Said George.
Malfoy shrugged. Ron could tell it didn't bother him. That arrogance was still there. That arrogance that said If you can't defend yourself, you don't deserve a wand.
Ron looked at his brothers. They were both looking at him. Staring really. Not saying anything.
He hated when they did. When they didn't speak. When they stared.
It seemed so unnatural for them. It seemed so out of character. But it meant that they had deduced something.
Ron let out a frustrated sigh.
"So, are we dealing with our darling younger brother Ron, or are we dealing with Auror Gold Class Ronald Weasley?" said Fred.
Ron just shot him a look. A dangerous look. An angry look.
"Right, Auror Gold Class Weasley then." Said George. "How can we help the Ministry in these darkening times?"
Ron looked across at Malfoy who was seated comfortably. His hands folded neatly across his lap. One leg crossed over the other. He was the picture of relaxed.
It was as if he wasn't currently sitting in his soon to be brothers-in-law office, about to investigate their business, while partnered up with his other soon to be brother-in-law.
It was like he was anywhere else.
Ron wished he was anywhere else.
It was quiet in the office, if you didn't count the dull sound of explosions that were coming from downstairs. If you didn't count the dull roar of laughter that came from the joke shops customers.
"Someone has taught the muggles how to enchant their equipment to work against magic." Ron said quietly.
"And you suspect us, Gold?" Asked Fred.
"You think we did it, Red?" Asked George.
"I'm not accusing either of you of anything. But a subsidiary of your business provides muggle enchantments." Ron said, his teeth gritted. He would rather his brothers were taking the mickey out of him. He couldn't handle this strictly business twin's situation right now.
"Seamus and Dean you mean?" Said Fred.
"Your fellow Gryffindor classmates." Said George.
"Yes." Said Ron, with frustration. "Them. Are either of you aware that they might have been working on some slightly different things. Things that might have been given to the Muggle Government. Maybe some big contracts?"
Fred and George didn't even have to look at them.
"You'd have to ask them. Their financial accounting goes through us, but we don't check it off. It's all in balance, so we have never had any reason to distrust them." Said George.
"It's all clean, according to Gringotts." Said Fred.
"Can I see those records?" Ron said.
"Sure you can." Said George.
"Absolutely, positively happy to let you take a quick look, Weasley." Said Fred.
"Thanks." Said Ron.
"After we take a look at your Warrant."
Ron rubbed his face into hands.
Why is nothing ever bloody easy. Why is everything so bloody difficult.
And this would be a great time for Draco Malfoy to do anything other than sit there.
"Why do you need a warrant? Wouldn't you rather me than some other Auror poking through your finances."
"We'd rather no one looked through our finances, actually." Said Fred.
"Sounds like Ministry overreach to me." Said George. "We have nothing to hide. Nothing at all. But if you think we will just sit back and let the Ministry of Magic invade our privacy without so much as a little bit of pushback, well then, you might be in for a bit of a surprise."
Fred nodded.
"I'm your brother" Ron said.
"No." Said Fred. "You're Auror Gold Class Weasley."
Ron felt his anger building up.
Stupid. Bloody. Obstinate. Bastards!
"Perhaps." Malfoy cut in, his voice all silk and class. "A simple conversation with Seamus and Dean might be able to clear this all up."
"More than happy to facilitate that!" Fred said. "Why a simple conversation between family and friends might just do the trick, don't you agree George?"
"Sounds like it would be absolutely, positively, delightful to confirm things so easily!" George said nodding agreeably.
I hate them all.
"Why didn't you just say that?" Ron asked, not at all amused by the antics of his twin brothers. "I'm trying to help you two gits."
"Because." Fred said, his voice returning to its mirthful state. "You didn't ask."
There was a singsong nature to his voice that Ron absolutely hated.
George agreed. "You came at us with the Ministry. And that is not how we do things in our family, Percy."
That hurt.
That hurt a lot.
"Can we just go and speak to Seamus and Dean already?" Ron said, desperately to get them moving before he started hexing people.
"Of course, little brother, right this way."
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