Righty, seeing as how the last chapter hasn't gotten even 1 REVIEW (Ok, Ash, calm down), I'm going to try to make this chapter a work of a genius, without seeming as I tried too hard. I don't really care about reviews (Just saying that to make myself feel better), since I just want people to read the story, but I wouldn't mind if someone wrote one out of common courtesy.

Also, since no one has made any suggestions, I'm still going to use all my original ideas for this chapter.

Hope you enjoy this.

Note-Rated R for a few curse words and sex talk

The Story Of Flourish And Blotts~

Realizations~

'Life is just a game, and I live on the luck'

-A friend

"How could she get away?" A bitter Katie said, stomping into her flat, and throwing her cloak onto the couch.

"Bad day at work?" Fred asked, not putting down the issue of the 'Daily Prophet' he was reading, like this was something that happened everyday.

"They assigned me to go to WIC today, and I asked what happened there. Miss Goldstein tells me 2 men have been murdered, one that goes by the name of Jack Riley, and the other was Rory Taylor." She said, waiting for some sort of reaction, but Fred just sat there, waiting for the rest of the story.

"Well?" She asked, standing in front of him.

"Well what?" He asked, putting down only the front of his paper.

"You don't remember Rory Taylor?" She asked, looking a bit surprised

"Yes, I do, but it's obvious that he would find himself dead one day, considering the company he kept." Fred said, putting up the front of his paper again. "Continue."

"Well," Katie said, remembering what she was talking about. "I go to investigate the crime scene, and guess who I find there?" Katie said, now pacing around the kitchen. The question seemed to grab Fred's attention, seeing as how he put down the paper on the couch, waiting for Katie to answer herself.

"Oh, you really want me to guess." Fred said after about half a minute of silence. "Well, I'll take a wild guess and say Marcus Flint."

"On the right track of the many foes of Hogwarts, but no." She said, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

"Ron." He said, shrugging his shoulders

"Don't be mean." She said, sitting down at the small table in the kitchen.

"I'm not being mean." He said, walking over to the kitchen, coffee in one hand. "It's just that for some time, I've suspected that Ron has gotten bored with the torment of other people, and has decided to join the wizard version of Hell's Angels. What would they call that?" He said, waving his hand around, as if he was trying to conjure the answer. "Azkaban's Saints?" He said as Katie gave a little laugh. "Besides, Ron has no job, and he always liked to do things the easy way. To Ron, it's not really a question of right or wrong, it's more like easy or hard."

"Poor kid, he would had had such a future as an Auror, only if he had stuck with it." She said, putting her head down on the table. "Who supplied you with the information of Ron's employment status?"

"Ginny, who else? That's beside the point, anyway. What were you saying?" Fred asked, trying to get back to the original subject.

"You just had to remind me." Katie said, returning to her angry state. "There were 2 murders, like I said, at WIC. I go there and I see Pansy Parkinson with some bloke that must have been her accomplice." She said

"Oh, yeah…" Fred said. "I hate it when that happens." He said as if he didn't get why she was so mad.

"Let me finish." She said, getting the tone of Fred's voice. "I was about to arrest her when she pulled out her wand and stunned me."

"Yes?" Fred asked, waiting for the rest.

"If you would just sit and be quiet for a moment, then maybe I could finish." Katie yelled, which shut Fred up with what he was about to say. "Anyways, you know how I have that uncanny ability to somewhat resist stunning charms?" She waited for Fred to nod his head, but after the yelling she gave Fred, he seemed afraid to make any sudden movements. "Yeah, anyway, I heard them talking, Pansy and that man, and they said that they were going to escape away to the Americas and…"

"Which one?" Fred asked.

"What do you mean?" Katie asked back, not really caring that Fred had stopped her story.

"First off, there's North America, and South America, not to mention Central America. Together, those 3 landmasses cover a hell of a lot of ocean."

"Shut up, Fred!"

"I just wanted to establish that fact." Fred said, leaning back in his chair, wanting to hear what her own plans were.

"I don't really care. I will find her, no matter what it takes." Katie said with a look of determination. Then, all of a sudden, she banged her head against the table, and said; "You're right, it's hopeless! I'll never be able to find her!"

Fred stood up from his chair, walked behind Katie, and started to massage her shoulders. Katie gave a little moan and said,

"A little to the right."

Fred did as he was told, and it went on like this for about 2 minutes when Fred said;

"Maybe we should take this into the bedroom." He whispered into her ear.

Katie immediately got out of her chair, which caused Fred to bump into the kitchen counter. She turned to him with a look of shock.

"What the hell do you think I am? Some sort of sex toy? When I'm stressed out, you want sex! When I'm happy, you want sex! When I feel like crap, you want sex! Fuck you!" Katie yelled, and with that, she stomped into one of the rooms of the flat.

Fred just stood there, with his back on the kitchen counter, and his hands supporting him. He got up, ran his hand through his hair when he noticed Angelina, another one of his roommates, standing at the door. She was holding a bag of groceries, and wearing a weird look on her face, like Fred was some sort of pervert.

"I just wanted to move her to the bed so I could give her a better massage." Fred said. He then took his coat from the couch, and went out the door.

Death at Malfoy Mansion

On September 29, 2006, Draco Malfoy was found dead in one of cellars of his father's home, Malfoy Mansion. Investigators believe that he was killed with a simple Killing spell, and that he placed the killing spell on himself.

His wand was found 2 inches away from his hand, which also implies self-destruction. There's another clue that greatly confuses investigators. There were many short pieces of Malfoy's hair found around the crime scene. Lucius Malfoy, his father, had this to say.

"I don't believe that my son killed himself. He had too much pride as a Malfoy to do so. He was murdered, and I ask that whoever did so to step up now."

Funeral services will be held on Saturday, and only immediate family members are allowed to attend.

"Well, he finally croaked. The world is rid of one more bad guy." Harry said.

"What a sophisticated way to put it." Hermione said. The 2 friends were sitting at a table in the flat that they shared, sipping coffee, and going over Hermione's latest story.

"Who said I was ever sophisticated?" Harry said, picking up the paper again.

"What really bothers me is who could actually get into Malfoy Mansion without being let in by Lucius or my Draco himself. There's security everywhere over there."

"It had to be a friend of either Lucius or Draco. And considering that everyone they know is involved with the dark arts in one way or another…"

"Not everyone."

"Like who?"

"Rory."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he found himself dead one day." Harry said, putting the newspaper up over his face. "Nice guy though, reminds me of Hagrid. Might I mention, that's not a good thing."

"Why is that?" Hermione said, taking her finger and putting down enough of Harry's paper so she could see his face.

"Because Hagrid has a love for dangerous creatures, and so does Rory."

"You're talking about Flora, aren't you?"

"Who else is there? Rory was crazy for the girl, and it doesn't help that Flora deserted him in pursuit of Ron."

"Is that what happened?"

"Ginny told me, back before Ron became a total rebel."

"Ron's always been a rebel."

"Not one that tried to thrash your face while you were sleeping."

"I know Ron changed, but it wasn't his personality he changed, it was just his interest in what he thought would make him noticed. I'm guessing that after Fred and George opened the store, he figured out something."

"What?" Harry said, putting the newspaper down completely.

"In order to get attention, he had to bring attention about him. And he didn't want your attention, he wanted his own. I guess he figured that going bad was the only way. And you can't tell me it hasn't worked."

"You're right, I can't. How many times have we seen him in the newspaper for one crime or another with that gang of his?"

"I've lost count. Anyways, how did we get from Draco's murder to Ron's rebellion?"

"I don't know. They sound like events in a war." Harry said. He then sat up straight, and in a voice unlike his, he said; "And in World War 3, the most memorable proceedings were Draco's murder and Ron's rebellion." Like he was imitating a historian. While he was saying his 'speech', the phone rang, and Hermione went to answer it.

"Very funny." She said, picking up the phone. "Mr. Coydon, hello…another story, sure, go ahead…what did you say his name was………oh, oh my" She said with an anguished tone. "Yes, I'll get to it right away…thank-you sir." She put the phone back down slowly, wearing a face of distress.

"How ironic." She said quietly as she sat back down at the table.

"What's so ironic?" He asked.

"You were right, Rory would find himself dead one day." Hermione said. Harry took this in, and they both sat in silence for a few moments.

"I told you so."

"Come off it, Harry. Aren't you in the least bit sad?"

"Not really, I hate him so much that one could call it despise."

"What do you mean?" Hermione said, snapping out of her sad mood.

"Remember Ron's whole deciding days?" Hermione nodded. "Rory was the determining factor to where Ron would settle, since Ron worshipped Rory back then. He drove on to abandon us and join his group. I think, if Rory hadn't done that, Ron would be sitting here with us, and not on the run. Like I said, he's a nice guy, but it's usually to get what he wants."

Hermione picked up the newspaper, and took a good look at it. "I have to write the story about his murder."

"Clip it out and put it with the others." Harry said, handing a pair of scissors to Hermione. She cut out the article about Draco's murder, and handed it to Harry. He walked over to the couch, and reached his hand under it. He pulled out what looked like an old tin cookie box, and opened it. Inside was just a mess of black and white, headlines and fine print. On top of that was a similar headline to that of Draco's death; Death-eater found dead.

Harry took out that article, threw the box onto the couch, and went back to the table.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Crabbe, he was found dead too." Harry said, looking like he just figured something out.

"Yeah, Harry, I did that story." She said.

"You don't recall the way that Crabbe was found?" Harry said, looking surprised now.

"It was staged to look like a suicide, and pieces of his hair were found all over like Draco's…" She said, comprehending what Harry was saying. "Whoever killed Crabbe killed Draco!" She yelled, piecing it together

"And whoever killed them needed their hair for some reason, most likely a Polyjuice potion."

"Goyle and Coren, aren't they missing?" Hermione said.

"Yeah, they're supposedly dead." Harry said, and Hermione gasped. "What?"

"There's only 2 people missing from that list, and that would be Flora and Ron."

"What does that mean?" Harry asked.

"They could be found dead any day now."

"Come on!" Pansy said to Anderson. They were standing outside a room to a cheap motel that usually got young, drunk couples, and assumed that Pansy and Anderson were just another one.

"You're gonna need the keys to get in." Anderson said, holding the keys above Pansy's head, and considering that Anderson stood about a good 6'3, Pansy had to struggle to try to get the keys. She finally jumped high enough to snatch the key from his hand without him even noticing.

She unlocked the door, and turned on the lights. The room gave off a smell of cigarette smoke and wallpaper paste, which was obvious since the wallpaper was at advanced stages of chipping off. The carpet looked as if it was steamed cleaned with coffee, and the blankets looked as if they were home to a group of hungry rats.

After becoming conscious what they had to put up with for the night, the 2 noticed the open door to the bathroom. They both glanced at each other, and then took off for the bathroom. After a bit of pushing and shoving, Pansy got into the bathroom first, since she pushed Anderson onto the floor. Realizing that she locked the door, he took a seat on the bed, and waited.

When he sat down, something was thrown at him. He turned around and noticed that it was Pansy's wand.

"I need Katie's wand." She yelled from behind the bathroom door.

"Why?"

She then came out of the bathroom, snatched the wand from his hands, and said;

"Watch my wand, watch it closely and carefully. Do we understand?" She didn't wait for an answer; she just stomped back into the bathroom.

Anderson, for some odd reason, did as he was told. He knew that he could make a clean getaway, but felt like if he left, he would be leaving Flora behind, and Anderson always fancied Flora, despite the fact she was about to walk the altar with Jack.

Jack. It was at this moment that Anderson realized that Jack wasn't coming back. He was dead, and he thought that it was now more his duty to make sure that Flora was ok. He waited.

After about 10 minutes of counting the ceiling panels, Anderson heard a creaking door open. He turned his attention to the bathroom door. Standing in the doorway of the bathroom was Flora.

"Ok, that's not good." Harry said

"No shit, Sherlock." Hermione said, looking at him with a face of annoyance.

"Sorree!" Harry said in response.

"We have to get ahold of the 2. Has Ginny told you anything about Ron's whereabouts?"

"Not a thing, she doesn't even know herself."

"What about Flora?"

"We haven't talked to her in almost 7 years."

Hermione walked over to the phone, and said; "Let's just hope she's opted to muggle ways since." She picked up the phone, and dialed 0.

"Yes, may I have a listing for a Miss Flora Lauriat…yes…ok." Hermione said, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen. She wrote down what the operator told her, hung up the phone, and went back to the table.

"Bless the city of London, they gave me her address also."

"What about Ron?"

"Katie has most of my story, so we're going to have to stop by their flat to question her on the murder." Hermione said, walking into the kitchen and collecting various things.

"You didn't answer my question, Hermione." Harry said, not getting out of his chair.

"Do you think it's too late to stop by? Everyone in her flat doesn't go to sleep til way after midnight." Hermione said, slipping on a pair of shoes.

"Are you going to answer my question or not?" Harry asked while Hermione put on her cloak.

Hermione didn't seem to hear Harry's question, but she turned her attention to him and said; "Aren't you coming with me?"
"Aren't you going to answer my question?" Harry asked back.

"What question?" Hermione said, unlike herself.

"You know, I can tell when you're lying. It's a gift."

"Curse you, Harry." Hermione said, sitting down at the table.

"So, must I ask again?" Harry said, leaning back in his chair.

"No, I remember just fine." Hermione said with a sharp voice, as if she was being forced against her will to answer. "I don't really want to think about the possibility that Ron might be, well, dead. I still have this glimmer of hope that Ron will come back to us, and…"

"And everyone will live happily ever after, right?" He said, noticing that he had been a bit too harsh. He took Hermione's hands into his and said. "Hermione, I out of all people want to see Ron waltz through that door and proclaim his changed ways, but I highly doubt that's going to happen. Ron is picky, and if he didn't like his way of life, he would have given it up years ago."

Hermione sighed, and squeezed Harry's hand. "I suppose you're right."

"Why is he such a big concern…oh, why didn't I see this before?" Harry said, looking at Hermione in an odd way.

Hermione took her hands away from Harry's and gave him a confused look. "What are you talking about?"

"I thought I knew my best friend back and forth, but it seems that I don't." Harry said, getting up from his chair, and pacing around the kitchen.

"What? What is it?" Hermione said, quickly getting out of her chair.

"Well, I guess with Quidditch and homework and all that, I was blind to see what was happening before my eyes." Harry said, ignoring what Hermione was saying.

"Alright, Harry, I get it, just tell me!" She said, slamming her fist on the table.

Harry turned his head to Hermione and smirked. "I love to do that to you."

Hermione sat back down, and said, rolling her eyes; "So Ron. Anyways, you were about to say…"

"Ah, yes." He said, "Well, as new evidence has been brought to my attention, I believe that I can confidently say that, during our Hogwarts years, you had a so called 'crush' on Ron."

He turned to Hermione and expected her to be completely taken aback and shocked, but instead, she was smiling oddly, until she burst into laughter.

"You actually think that I liked Ron!" She said, trying to stifle her laughter, but alas, it was of no avail. "Ron and I!" She could never bring herself to use improper grammar, when in crisis or when in an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

Harry instead was the one wearing a shocked look. He didn't know weather to laugh along with her or to go slap her back into her senses. He did neither, just stood there, hoping that he would be clued in on the joke.

While Harry waited, Hermione kept laughing, and throwing in little comments, such as 'Ron and I!" or "What irony!". Harry caught Hermione saying that, and asked; "Where's the irony?"

Hermione, finally able to hold in her laughter, stopped, looked at Harry, and said; "Well, you're right about one thing, your busy schedule did keep you from realizing a thing or two."

"Like what?" Harry said, like there wasn't anything else he could have missed.

"Well, contrary to popular belief, there was nothing going on between Ron and I, there were no thoughts of something happening between Ron and I, and there has been no physical contact that could be translated as romantic, except that one time during our 6th year."

She expected Harry to stop and ask something concerning what she now called 'the incident', but he just looked at her, waiting for what else she had to say.

"Anyways," She started again. "It's quite the opposite, really."

"What? You had thoughts of chopping his head off?" Harry asked

"No…well, a few times, but I didn't mean it in that way."

"Oh, continue." He said, waving his hand at her.

"Well, I did have my eye on someone, but he never seemed to show interest in me. He was one of those people who if I told him that I fancied him, he would sit me down, and tell me that he thought of me as a sister, and that we were too close to have anything, romantically speaking." She said, sighing.

"Why didn't you tell me? I would have gone and beat up that guy. What an…idiot." He said, saying that last line a little slower, and he started to piece it together.

"Hmm, I would like to see you beat yourself up. Please, do so." She said, waving her hand at Harry like he did to her.

Harry sat back down at the table, and took Hermione's hands again. "Hermy, I am so sorry. I told you, I'm clueless to everything. Listen, I know that this was a long time ago, and I can't fix that, but I can sure as hell try. I'll take you out, anywhere you like. We can go to a bar and get drunk and forget about all of this!" He said, jumping up from his seat, and pulling Hermione up.

"I'm not sure. I mean, I have to go and interview Katie for my story, Mr. Coydon wants it by tomorrow at 8:00."

"Don't worry, that gives you plenty of time. I'll even help you write it. Hell, I'll write it for you."

"You know I'd never let you do that." Hermione said, smiling at Harry

"Alright then, I'll leave you alone all day tomorrow, just come with me." Harry said, pulling her with him.

"Do I have a choice?" She said faintly as Harry grabbed his cloak and pulled out the door.

"I know this looks weird, but give me a chance to explain." The new Flora said to a shocked Anderson.

"What…what's going on…what are you?" Anderson asked.

"Don't panic, Anderson, it's me, Flora, but I should tell you. Don't get brutal or anything, but, I'm a 2-face." Flora said, expecting Anderson to try to attack her, but instead, he just looked at her, confused.

"A 2-face, a magical skitscopherenic. " She said, laying it out for him.

"I know that, but you, Flora, what am I supposed to do now?"

"That's a good question. Right now, all I can tell you is that you have to trust me, and that you're probably wanted by the Ministry, and, basically, we have to get you out of England."

Anderson didn't know what to do. He was usually a person who could take anything with a straight face, and move on, but he didn't know what to do next.

"Let me explain…just, can we please get out of here? The smell is driving me crazy."

Anderson didn't answer; he just followed Flora out the door. When they walked out the door, Anderson didn't know if it was the smell of fresh air or not, but something snapped, and he jumped in front of Flora.

"Why should I trust you? 2-faces aren't exactly the nicest bunch of wizards you can find."

"Yes, I know that, and I hate to have to use this, but 2-faces happen to be more powerful than most wizards, and…" Anderson felt a shooting pain in his lower back. "either you start walking to where I want you to go, or that pain will stay with you, and eventually you'll collapse and die. Bit of Pansy still left in me." She said, smiling.

They had no car, so Flora directed Anderson to the nearest place that was still open, which happened to be a bar about 3 blocks away from the motel. Flora told Anderson to go in, and found a scene that could compete with their hotel room for being sleazy. There were drunken men everywhere, and women with clothes that degraded all women. Flora found an empty table near the back, and directed Anderson to it. A few times, Flora felt a few hands slide onto her 'rear end'. She deiced to ignore it, until a rage that was coming from that bit of Pansy overtook her. She grabbed the person's wrist very tightly, and swung herself around.

"How dare you…Harry!" She yelled, looking at the owner of the wrist.

Sitting down in front of Flora was a pain stricken Harry.

Alright, I know I spelled skitscopherenic wrong, but I don't have a beta reader to tell me the correct spelling. If anyone wants to volunteer, please leave me your e-mail and all that good stuff. Harry is not really in character, I know, but like Hermione has said a few times, Harry has really assumed Ron's place, so he still has his sweet side, though he has that sarcasm to throw in every now and then.

A few questions answered. Ron's 'deciding days' were the days when he was split between Harry & Hermione, or Draco and his group. No, there has been no World War 3; I just kinda made Harry make that up.

In coming chapters: Why did Harry grab Flora's 'rear end?' Did Harry have mutual feelings for Hermione in their Hogwarts years? Does Hermione still like Harry? What's going to happen to our beloved Ronniekins? And what's up with Flora? What does she really know? How drunk is everyone going to get?

Hope you liked this, and please review and tell me what you think might happen. A million points to why I made Flora and Anderson run into Harry and Hermione. 2 million to why Harry grab Flora's…ok, I'm just going to say it…ass.

Laterz-Mystery Girl