To Trust Ron

To Trust Ron.

Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I disclaim all that isn't mine.

**

They walked to The Cauldron, a popular hangout in the area, in calm silence.

Hermione had her hands thrust deep into the pockets of her fur coat while Ron tried in vain to keep the chill out of his hands by constantly blowing into them.

All the passersby noticed them because of their silent, yet comfortable air, they thought that they made a fine couple.

He was tall and lean with straight red hair and a frank face with trusting, deep brown eyes. His robes were clutched carelessly in his left hand while he was wearing mold green loose pants and an over-sized black shirt. Childishly, he didn't avoid the ice-cold puddles, but deliberately, his thick leather boots sloshed uncaringly into them.

She, on the other hand, was tall, but about a foot smaller than him. Her glossy, coffee-colored hair was held by clasp at the back of her head and she was wearing little makeup, just a cream-colored lipstick and some rouge. Her off-white shoulder bag was bulging, probably with her robes she had also discarded and her pearly fur coat was not very stylish, but spotless in contrast to their gray surroundings.

The sky growled ominously at them.

"It's going to rain, Mommy!" squealed a child delightedly, peering out of one of the numerous wooden windows spanning one length of the wall in The Cauldron.

Hermione smiled at the little boy as he pleaded with his mother to let him go out and was met with no commitment on her part.

They made their way to 'their' table: a small, round, solid oak slab at the back of the teahouse with a large brightly colored painting of a brass pan in the background. The feel was the place was smoky, wooden and brassy, a bit like an old fashioned kitchen, with old herbs and spices in large glass jars and dried stalks of lavender handing from the ceiling which seemed to have been made hastily from thick, coarse, wooden planks.

"Strange weather," Hermione muttered absentmindedly as she scratched idly at the wooden surface.

"I know," was Ron's answer as he let his gaze roam over her face. She seemed… disturbed. He wondered why.

"So…" she continued as a young witch apparated next to their table and unloaded their load of cappuccinos which fluffy cream and brown specks on top. "How was your day?"

"Pretty okay," replied Ron, scorching his tongue as he drank the steaming liquid too quickly. "Bours?" he asked as he dabbed a tissue on his callused tongue to make it feel better.

Hermione laughed easily and that set his mind at rest. Maybe she was just feeling a bit under the weather. No big deal.

"Well, my day was going pretty normally until the coffee break when I heard how my knight-in-shining-armor protected me from the evils of the girlfriend-snatcher," she answered, her brown eyes sparkling mischievously over her coffee, which she carefully blew at to cool.

"It's in the job description!" Ron replied, grinning.

"Well, I'm touched," said Hermione, blushing slightly. Ron just smiled at her across the table and then slid next to her.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," he said brushing her hair away from her cheek. "At least I know I'm appreciated! That Hurley guy's as bad as Malfoy!"

"I've never had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Hurley, maybe we could arrange a date to get to know each other better…"

"Hey!" cried Ron, trying to look horrified at her blatant betrayal.

Hermione laughed happily, making others turn and look at them and then smile knowingly.

*

"So, what now?" asked Hermione as they were driving through the drizzle in Ron's battered up blue sedan. It was seven thirty and both of them were hungry since they had decided to skip lunch after their heavy cappuccinos. Still, they were hard-working officers and after a long shopping trip which Hermione had forced Ron into, their limbs ached and their tummies rumbled.

"Let's go to Harry's!" cried Ron, swerving the car dangerously to go turn to the opposite direction.

"Whoa!" yelled Hermione and saw other drivers wave their fists angrily at Ron. "Ron, you duffer! You're always doing those stupid maneuvers of yours! How many times have I…"

And poor Ron had to be subjected to her long lecture concerning traffic rules till they reached a multistoried building, a fifteen-minute drive away.

They marched up the posh, white-carpeted stairs of Star Apartments with their soggy, mud-infested boots, Hermione chanting under her breath at each step so that the grimy footprints (that hurt her more than it hurt the carpet) magically vanished.

They stopped at the familiar door of room 602 and barged right in, since they dropped by often enough ad never needed to knock.

"Honey, we're home!" yelled Ron, blundering in and flopping down on the silvery sofa and kicking his shoes away, thumbed them onto the lacquered tabletop.

Hermione shook her head disapprovingly and entered the master bedroom through the large glass doors, looking for their best friend.

"Harry?" she called out.

"Over here!" a voice beckoned from the room opposite. Hermione made her way into the black and white gleaming kitchen, only to find Harry bent over the stove while a young, attractive woman read out a recipe from a French cookbook.

Hermione noticed that Harry's eyes were glowing and he seemed slightly embarrassed at Hermione's sudden appearance.

"Oops, am I disturbing you guys?" Hermione asked, embarrassed herself as the other girl looked her up and down… suspiciously, as Hermione was surprised to notice.

"Oh, no, no!" Harry denied as he wiped his hands on his apron.

"Of course not!" screamed Ron from the lounge, busy channel surfing. "We're family!"

At the sound of another male's voice, the girl seemed to have lost some of her aggressive air.

"Lillian, I'd like you to meet my friend, Hermione… that's my other best friend, Ron, yelling from the lounge…" said Harry sheepishly, running his hand through his silky black hair and sprinkling crumbs into them.

"Well, pleased to meet you," replied the girl, smiling brightly. "It's so nice to meet Harry's friends… or family as your friend said!" she laughed in a strange fluttery sort of way.

To Hermione, her tone seemed to say: Only friends, got it? Nothing else!

Hermione nodded and the three of them left the kitchen, and seeing them, Ron stopped gulping down the potato chips and salsa and focused his attention on the newcomer.

She was wearing a silken, black sleeveless turtleneck, with spot-less white trousers. She was exceedingly pale with pouty red lips, arched eyebrows and smooth black shoulder length hair. Her eyes were lined with a fine stroke of silver glitter and her features were delicate and sharp. She also had a perfect figure, only she was shorter than Hermione.

Ron saw her and gaped.

Hermione saw him and frowned.

Lillian saw Ron and smiled sweetly.

Harry looked at Ron and an irritated expression crossed his face…

**

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