A/N Hi everyone! *waves* okay, I'm very, very, VERY please with the feedback I've been receiving for this. *huggles reviewers* You guys are me life! Okay, so, here's chapter four. A TON of stuff happens in this chapter, so be prepared. If everything seems rather rushed, remember two things. 1) Ron & Co are Death Eaters, and are prone to die at the drop of a hat, so everything they do is impulsive. 2) There are only three chapters left. And an epilougue. Doesn't seem like much, I know, but there's only seven chapters! This chapter will end in July two years after Ron graduated. The story (excluding epilogue) ends in the coming November. Be prepared for a lot of stuff in very little time!
Note: I do not own any song lyrics.
Anyhoozles, I love you guys (again!). As several of you already know, I send an update email every time I post. If you'd like to be added to the list, leave a review! I'll be glad to put you on! Oh, and if you have questions on a certain inconsistency of my story (the inconsistency being that I said Death Eaters are enchanted not to love, and yet Ron and Rayven are) don't worry. It doesn't match for a reason, the answers are coming.
And now, to the fic!
Chapter Four:
Two Funerals and a Wedding
~I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music do you?
It goes like this: the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
*Rufus Wainwright's "Hallelujah"
The nursery was quiet at the moment, but not for long. A young girl with fiery tresses stomped in, rudely interrupting another, slightly elder young lady, who was elegantly pouring tea for an over-used teddy bear.
"You little mudworm!" The red haired girl screamed. The other looked up innocently.
"Who, me?"
"YES YOU!" The red haired one continued. Her green eyes flashed dangerously. "Look what you did to my new doll's hair!"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Lily," The other replied, sticking her nose in the air and trying to return to her tea party. However, young Miss Lily Evans was not about to let her sister off so easily. She grabbed a fistful of gold hair, forcing it owner to stand.
"Look at what you did!" She wailed. Wincing, the other complied. Her eyes widened at what she saw. In the blanket was not a doll at all, but a real little boy.
A little boy with large green eyes and a queer scar hidden behind his bangs, which were the only part of his hair left...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The air between the four friends was slightly tenser than they remembered. Or rather, it was tenser between Ron and Rayven. Draco and Angel, of course, didn't have a clue what had happened at Harry's wedding, as neither had attended.
Ron and Rayven were fabulous actors, of course. They had fooled their professors and their peers for over a year...but there was something obviously amiss. Draco and Angel both interrogated them, but to no avail.
No self respecting Death Eater would admit to being in love.
And, of course, Ron and Rayven were no exception. Neither wanted to admit that their heart beat a little faster when they exchanged looks, or that they couldn't touch hands without getting short of breath.
And therefore, they avoided each other at all costs. However, they couldn't stay out of each other's paths indefinitely, since Draco and Angel weren't about to let whatever this fiddle-faddle was interfere with their usual outings. And such was the occasion in the last week of January.
It had not been a good month for Ron. He had killed one teenage boy, two middle aged men, and an elderly woman so far, and had gotten wind of the fact that Harry cut his honeymoon short for Dudley's funeral. Nope, not a good month at all.
Not to mention that avoiding Rayven was practically killing him.
He lay awake at night, tossing and turning. Her eyes haunted his dreams. He could feel her lips and her hands and the silky dress. Damn it, why had he kissed her? He should've known it would be like this.
He had only seen her once since the wedding, and that had been an...awkward situation, to say the least. Draco had grilled him, and somehow Ron survived. And now, they were all going out to lunch.
Oh joy.
However, lunch proved to be more enjoyable then other things Ron could imagine. Like being eaten by a lion, for instance. All right, it wasn't that bad, but the awkward air was still there. Ron couldn't stop looking over at her, and once their eyes met. But only once.
After lunch, Angel insisted that everyone come over just to 'hang out' as she put it. The other three finally agreed. They sat around in her living room, and it did not take Angel and Draco long to engage in lively conversation.
Meanwhile, Rayven and Ron just shuffled their feet and bit their lips.
"Ron?" Rayven said quietly. Ron jumped at the sound of her voice.
"Uh, yeah?" He asked, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.
"Can we go...talk?" She gestured to the hallway.
"I guess so," Ron replied, confusing thoughts and hopes flying through his mind. Angel and Draco only looked up for a moment as the other two disappeared into a hallway before returning to their conversation. They both knew that whatever they were talking about back there would be better than the awkward silences they were having now.
"So...er...what did you want to talk to me about?" Ron asked. He already knew.
"It's about...um...well, at Harry and Hermione's wedding..."
"Yeah?"
"Well...I think..." Rayven avoided his eye, struggling not to stutter. He held on to every stuttered syllable. "We should just forget about it." She said very quickly, all in one breath. "I mean, it's made things really awkward and...can we just pretend it didn't happen?"
Ron looked deep into her eyes. No, he could never forget. He could never forget those foreign, blissful feelings, the way she tasted, her hands in his hair. He could never forget melting away from reality like that. And when he looked at her, he knew she hadn't forgotten either.
"Yeah," He said, breaking his eye contact. "Yeah, I was just about to suggest the same thing."
"Um...okay!" Her face brightened into a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. Something inside of her had been wishing he would passionately reject and kiss her again, but she knew this was for the best. "Okay, let's...uh...go back out there!"
"All right," Ron replied, half smiling. However, as soon as Draco and Angel came back into view, their faces split into twin mischievous grins.
"Ron?" Rayven asked, watching her two friends flirt like mad.
"Rayven," He replied, his eyes twinkling.
"Have you ever seen Fiddler on the Roof?" Ron tore his eyes from Draco's gestures and Angel's giggles for a moment to give Rayven a funny look.
"No, why?" She only smiled in response, but a couple minutes later he heard her begin to sing softly.
"Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match..."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ron wasn't doing much...unless you count staring into the fire doing something, which I certainly don't. Chess bored him now, and all his housework was done. He avoided his bed at all costs, because trying to sleep only brought thoughts of Rayven. He was contemplating getting out all his dishes and washing them for the third time that day when an owl thankfully came in to distract him.
"Hello Seth," Ron said cheerily to the handsome gray barn owl he immediately recognized as Draco's. After feeding him a few owl treats, he retreated to his armchair to read the letter.
Ron,
Yeah, Friday's fine. We're meeting at your flat, right? I'll be there. Is it formal? What shall I wear?! No, just kidding, I'm not Angel you know. See you (and the girls, I'm assuming) Friday.
Draco
Ron grinned. Perfect. He'd already gotten word from Rayven saying she got the green light from Angel. Ron hastily wrote back to Draco, sending Seth away with a few soft coos. He then turned to his parchment and quill to write Rayven.
Suddenly, the parchment, quill and ink became the Enemy.
He sat down, stretched, then grabbed his quill and allowed it to hover over the parchment for a few moments.
Dear Rayven...
No. Ron grabbed the parchment and crumpled it up, throwing it behind him, then tried again. Another no go. Why the hell was writing a letter to her so difficult? Ron wondered furiously. He got the answer when he looked down and found that he had been absently writing her name over and over again...once with the name Weasley attached...
It took Ron over an hour to write the letter, which read as follows:
Rayven,
Draco will be there. See you Friday.
Ron
There, that wasn't too suggestive was it? It didn't imply anything did it? He had considered making it longer for the sheer reason that their names were only separated by one line, but he decided he couldn't risk any more.
He sent it off with Pig. Then he returned to brooding next to the fire. However, after a moment, Ron's frown turned into a grin. Yes, this little scheme of theirs was going fantastically. Ron found himself whistling that little tune Rayven had taught him last week, because both Draco and Angel had failed to realize something.
Friday was Valentine's Day.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Let's get this party started!" Ron looked up from his dark green shirt at the sound of the familiar voice.
"Hello Draco," He smiled.
"Where are the girls?" Draco frowned, looking around the front room of Ron's flat.
"We're here!" Rayven cried, right on cue. She and Angel literally 'popped' in side by side. Ron felt his heart leap into his throat...Rayven was wearing a cute little number the color of pale sunshine, which ended at her knees and was held up by two modest, yet not unbecoming straps. Angel, too, looked rather pretty, with a white dress that was held on by spaghetti straps. However, while all of Rayven's dress fell naturally and moved as she walked, Angel's was skin tight to the waist.
"About time!" Draco announced, breaking the moment of silence that usually ensues whilst boys are gaping at girls.
"Come on, then." Ron said, sounding rather embarrassed as he gestured. As one, they all apparated.
They crossed the street from the alley they had apparated to, finding themselves at a very nice (and rather expensive) Italian restaurant. They were shown to their tables and given their menus, which were, to Angel's relief, written in English.
"That's strange..." Draco muttered as he looked around the room.
"What's strange?" Rayven remarked absently.
"There seem to be a lot of couples here..."
"Of course," Ron said. He exchanged a devilish look with Rayven. "It is Valentine's Day, you know."
"It is?" Draco and Angel asked in unison, their mouths dropping.
"Duh," Rayven replied, trying to hide her smile as Ron tried desperately to turn his laughter into a coughing fit.
"You guys set this up, didn't you?" Angel asked.
"So what if we did?" Ron replied, putting his napkin down again. Draco and Angel exchanged looks and shrugs.
The meal was quite a pleasant affair. They talked and listen to the live orchestra, which was really quite fantastic. There was a dance floor (where about a million couples were dancing and/or kissing), as well as a staircase. Draco, the only one who had been there before, informed them that the only difference between floors one and two was that the second had a balcony.
Dessert came, and Ron and Rayven were starting to get desperate. They were determined to hook up their friends. Their eyes met, and both said the same thing: 'we need to leave them alone together!'
"Well, I'm full!" Ron announced setting down his fork. He looked at Draco and Angel, who were also finishing up. Rayven, of course, had been done before any of them. Ron's eyes studied the room, trying to find a reason for himself and Rayven to leave Draco and Angel to themselves. His eyes landed on the orchestra.
An annoying little voice started whispering into his mind. He common sense told him no, but everything else said yes. This was the only way anyway right? And besides, if he didn't do it, he would only drive himself into insanity wondering what would've happened if he had...
"Rayven," He said, standing and holding out a hand to her. "May I have this dance?" All three of them gaped at him, with Rayven's eyes the widest. Ron's eyes darted to Draco and Angel and back, telling her why he was taking such drastic measures. After a moment, she swallowed.
"Yes," She replied, taking his hand and rising as well. "Yes, of course, Ron."
Ron was well aware as they began dancing that he hadn't been in this close of contact with Rayven since the wedding. He was thrilled to be holding her again, but tortured at the same time. She didn't want him, and he couldn't have her. Why was he even doing this?
Well, that was a dumb question.
"Ron?" Rayven asked.
"What?" Ron replied.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?" He replied innocently. "I was just trying to leave Angel and Draco to themselves."
"That's not what I meant."
"I know."
"Then answer me."
Ron sighed, "You already know the answer, Rayven. Don't play innocent with me."
"You're just making this harder for me." Ron stopped in mid step at her words.
"You?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you hated me."
"Don't be ridiculous," Rayven replied. "You're the one who hates me."
"I don't hate you!" Ron replied, sounding appalled. "I...I..."
"You what?" She asked, looking up at him hopefully. Ron suddenly, once again, became acutely aware of how her dress felt under his hands, and the slight tickling sensation on his neck as she breathed, and how close their bodies really were. And he decided he couldn't stand it any more.
So he kissed her. Again.
It was passionate and fierce, but Rayven kissed back with much the same force. They pulled apart for a moment, then kissed again, slower and softer.
"Rayven," Ron whispered in her ear.
"Ron?" She said breathlessly.
"I love you," He looked down and saw her eyes brimming with tears.
"I love you too," She whispered. After another gentle kiss, she laid her head on his chest. "This is impossible, you know."
"I know." Ron replied. With that, they danced and lost all time and space in each other.
"Hey, where are Draco and Angel?" Ron asked suddenly. Rayven jumped slightly at hearing his voice, and cast her eyes over to the table they had been occupying...it was now empty, and the busboys were setting it up for a new group.
"I don't know..." She muttered. After a thorough search of the dance floor, they decided to try going upstairs.
As Draco had said, it was like walking up a flight of stairs and finding yourself the same place you were before. The décor was the same, the music was the same...they even had the same portraits on the walls! The only difference was a pair of French double doors that led out to the terrace.
"Let's try there," Rayven said, gesturing to the doors. Ron nodded and followed her lead. Rayven opened the door in the silent way that only a Death Eater could, and stepped out, Ron right behind her.
There they were. Draco's hands were gently twirling a stray strand of Angel's brown hair, talking quietly. And right there in front of Ron and Rayven (granted, they didn't realize it) Draco and Angel shared their first kiss.
Ron was all prepared to turn around and go back inside, but Rayven wasn't so nice.
"Don't fancy Draco?" She smirked. They both whirred around, their cheeks flaming. Draco glared at Ron, who hadn't had the time to duck into the building.
"C'mon," Angel said, trying to hide her cheeks. "Let's go."
Laughing, the four apparated into the night.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Yet more plans were made for the foursome to be together, and yet more havoc they wreaked, both in the harmless, teenage fun sense and the deadly game of war. However, they tried to ignore it, as if that were possible. Those four and Severus made up the backbone of Ministry Intelligence.
No pressure.
You must understand (if you don't already) what these five were wagering. Their lives, their happiness...in Ron's case his family and friends. So, with this clarified, you may proceed.
Otherwise it would be hard to understand why Draco, Rayven and Ron were so distressed when Angel was late.
"She was probably just summoned," Rayven said nervously.
"At noon?" Ron pointed out. "That's not Voldemort's style. He prefers midnight, moonless, and freezing."
"How cliché," Draco remarked absently.
"All Dark Lords are the same," Ron continued, as if he had met and served several, and was sitting at a bar with a mug of something hot, a pack of cigarettes and an old friend.
"I believe Grindlewald preferred a full moon," Rayven mused thoughtfully. "It enlightened him."
"And how would you know?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.
"History lesson."
"I HATED History!" Ron and Draco exclaimed in unison. Rayven chuckled.
"How? I mean, it was our most interesting class. Professor McField-"
"Ah," Ron said, as if the mysteries of the Universe had been unveiled. "A proper teacher."
"Always useful for a class." Draco commented.
"What? Mean prof?" Rayven asked curiously. Draco snorted.
"Dead prof, you mean."
"WHAT?"
"Professor Binns," Ron made a face. "He was a ghost...definitely the most boring ghost in existence."
"Uh-huh. Well, we did have that one teacher that absolutely no one listened to, and was so old he might as well have been dead." Rayven mused. "Her name was Professor Byrd." Draco opened his mouth to make a smart remark, but the words never came.
They all felt it. Like a friend being cut out of a picture. Like a child being wrenched from its mother. Like a husband crying out to his wife... Someone in their little family had just been taken from them.
"Angel,"
It was only one breath, but Draco's word suddenly brought panic. After a split second, the three reached a mutual decision and apparated from Rayven's flat to Angel's.
"Angel," Rayven called, looking around the living room and kitchen. She was met with silence...dead silence. "Angel!" She sounded more desperate this time. Draco looked down the hallway, and saw the door to her room slightly opened. He went down carefully. Rayven and Ron followed him. Looking back at his companions only once, Draco pushed the door open.
Draco staggered back several paces and Rayven buried her face in Ron's shoulder. Ron could only stare.
"Oh my God..."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Severus Snape was in his element. Sneering in the expert way only a Death Eater can, he was leering over the slightly...okay VERY off-color potion of Ginny Weasley and her unfortunate Potions partner, Colin Creevey. However, just as he was about to start spouting insults and taking away points, the door to his classroom was flung open. He turned on heel, very annoyed at being interrupted in the midst of his favorite pastime.
"Headmaster!" He exclaimed in surprise. Indeed it was. Dumbledore crossed the room quickly and handed Severus a letter. Taking it and looking down, he realized that it had already been opened. He began to pull out the parchment within, but Dumbledore stopped him.
"You are needed Severus." The Headmaster said simply, in answer to his professor's questioning eyes.
"Where?" He asked.
"Draco,"
Severus felt his eyes widen. Draco...but with Draco would come Ron and Rayven and Angel and...oh dear God, someone had been discovered. Without a backward glance, he swept out of the classroom. His students only stared. Dumbledore pulled out a wand and, with a sigh, muttered "Obliviate," He smiled cheerfully at the class.
"The rest of Potions class has been canceled due to the fact that Professor Snape was needed in the infirmary." The class cheered, and went about their daily business, not remembering anything before the Memory Charm.
Only Ginny Weasley was quick enough to avoid it.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
By the time Severus arrived several Ministry officials were already surrounding Angel's flat. The letter had been only been an address, written in the shaky had Severus had immediately identified as Draco's. He hadn't expected trouble on getting inside, however, that's what he got.
"Excuse me, sir," Some Ministry official or another said importantly, gesturing Snape away from the yellow tape. "Ministry business, no civilians."
"I am needed," Severus replied, feeling his fists ball up.
"Sorry, sir, no one gets in without the clear," The young man seemed to be thoroughly enjoying this.
"Listen sir," He pronounced the second word with as much sarcasm as he could muster. "If you do not let me in there, I will-"
"Severus!" A familiar voice interrupted. William Croaker jogged over to where the two men were standing...er glaring rather.
"Bill, tell this infernal kid to get out of my way." Severus commanded.
"You'd better get away, O'Henry."
"But sir-"
"Go back to work. Mr. Snape here has every right to come in," This did not help Severus's imagination, which had been producing all kinds of terrible images.
"What is going on, Bill?" He asked quietly, once that O'Henner (or something like that) character had sulked off.
"Go up for yourself, Severus," Bill replied sadly. "I've got to go collect some Ministry blokes. It's flat B12."
"Thank you," He muttered, and immediately pushed into the building and made his way through the milling aurors and into the flat. As he entered the living room, he knew it was much worse than he had expected.
The first thing he saw was the quivering figure on the sofa. Actually, he realized as his eyes accustomed themselves to the light, there were two figures. Rayven was the quivering one, shaking with sobs. She was curled up, crying onto Ron's chest. He stroked her hair and seemed to be taking shaky breaths, trying to calm himself. It appeared that he had been crying as well. If two of Voldemort's favored assassins are crying, you know something is wrong.
It was another few moments before Severus became aware of Draco's presence. He was standing in the shadows, leaning back against the wall for support. His stare was burning a hole through the wall, and his aura was even colder than usual.
"Severus," Ron said, the first to notice his old professor. Rayven looked up, and Severus didn't miss the trails of tears down her smooth cheeks. Draco nodded.
"That way," The last said, gesturing to the hallway. Severus nodded and walked down, wondering what he would find...he wasn't prepared for what he saw.
The room had once been Angel's bedroom. She was there, sprawled out on the bed, her limbs at impossible angles. Her skin, once beautiful, was now stained with blood...not a single spot was untouched. Severus's eyes traveled the room, and he thought he would be sick when he saw the wall above the bed. In a dark, brownish stain that could only be blood was written one word.
'Traitor'
With morbid curiosity, Severus got as close as he could (what with all those annoying Ministry blokes still running around) to Angel's body for further investigation. There he saw that the skin had cuts...millions of tiny, painful little cuts. He looked sadly on the twisted face of the brave young woman he had known, then turned to join his counterparts in mourning.
He sank into an armchair. No words passed between the four of them...none needed to be. They were all thinking the same thing: Nothing at all. Numb disbelief had taken them, and only Rayven had enough in her to cry. The three men simply stared at each other, remembering Angel and trying to imagine life without her.
Perhaps that was so startled when one of the Ministry officials said something to them.
"Ron?" A confused voice asked. The four jumped, and turned to see a young brunette looking curiously as them. "Malfoy? Snape?"
"Hermione?" Ron replied, his voice croaking. "What are you doing here?"
"I was investigating the body in situ," Hermione replied, shrugging. "Obviously some Death Eater who dared to tattle once about something stupid. Probably just a warning to the others. What are you doing here?"
Ron gave a strangled cry at her words. Total lack of respect. She has saved your life, Hermione! His mind screamed. However, nothing would come out. Unable to look at her curious face any longer, he did the only thing he could think of, and apparated out of their. The other three, after giving Hermione their own unique Death Eater glare, followed suit.
"Well, that was strange," Hermione muttered, and went back to work.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
There weren't many people at the funeral of Angel Pentser. However, those who were there were there to grieve, and were not paying the slightest attention to the priest as her coffin hovered over her final resting place. Angel had touched the hearts of few, but she hadn't touched them at all, rather caressed them.
Of course, the Ministry would be holding a recognition/award ceremony in their spy's honor. But the other four couldn't attend...word would get around to good old Voldie.
Draco was in quite a state. He had just, Ron knew, found out his feeling for her, and now she was disappearing into the depths of the earth. Heartbreaking...and rather worthy of an epic poem, in Ron's opinion. However, poetry was the last thing on his mind. He had managed to keep his emotions under control, trying to be supportive of Rayven.
Rayven. You had to feel sorry for her. Rayven and Angel had been friends for God only knows how many years...at least as long as Ron had known Harry. To see her friend dead--murdered by Voldemort-was more than she could bear.
Severus's demeanor was as stony as always, but Ron did not miss his slightly trembling hands. Ron was amazed to find that he himself wasn't so steady. One of their own...gone.
If Hermione was correct (which she almost always was) and the gruesome death was more of a warning to other traitors of their fate, Voldemort had done a damn good job of it. Ron knew now, more than he ever had before, what would happen if he was found out. If someone, probably one of the more eager Death Eaters, discovered his true colors, death was certain to come knocking on his door. But what could he do about it? Once a Death Eater, you couldn't just resign, and he wasn't about to turn truly Death Eater and abandon his post as a spy.
He could never turn back. It was too late now.
In an automatic, mechanical motion, Ron and the others threw black roses into the grave with Angel. It was too late for her, but her death would not be in vain. The ceremony closed itself, and Ron looked around one last time. He was pleased to note there were no other Death Eaters here before he apparated away.
No one noticed a man standing in the shadows. He was a Death Eater, who went by the name of Marcus Flint. He had come to say goodbye to Angel.
He was holding an infant in his arms.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It took a long time for the Circle of the Two-Faced to recover from its loss. However, time did go one. Ron and Rayven continued to kill, Draco continued to steal, and Severus continued to concoct terrifying Potions and frighten young Hufflepuffs on the side.
Angel was never forgotten.
The possible consequences of his decision were haunting Ron Weasley. For the first time in his life, he wished he could sit in the shadows and let someone else be the hero. He wanted to be ignorant and protected. He wanted to settle down and start a family...
With Rayven, of course.
With time, their bond had only strengthened. It was coming to be June, and Ron had known since December how much he loved her. How quickly time had passed! And so much had changed...He just wanted to run away from it all.
Yes, running away. The thought of running away had crossed the mind of Ronald Weasley of Gryffindor. Not once, but many, many times he had thought of ways to run. To hide away in another country until all the turmoil in Britain died down. America was looking like a good choice, or perhaps Australia.
However, he knew he could never leave without Rayven.
Their relationship had now officially reached the 'dating' stage. And they fought, like every couple does, but they always made it up. And it was after one of these little 'lover's spats', as Severus referred to them in disgust, that Ron was going to bring up the idea of running off.
He was hoping in the heat of 'kiss and make up' that she would forget herself and agree, so he could whisk her off to safety. The thought of her being in danger of a fate like Angel's was plaguing him. He had had several nightmares of Angel's death, and recently Angel's body had been replaced with Rayven's. This was one thing he was not about to let happen.
And so, he rang the doorbell to her flat, hoping she was cooled down enough to at least let them reach the 'kiss and make up' stage of things.
"What do you want?" She snapped as she opened the door. She was trying to still be angry with him, but Ron could tell she wasn't. With puppy eyes, he pulled a bouquet of roses from behind his back.
"Forgive me?" He asked innocently.
"Absolutely not!" She declared, putting her nose in the air. "If you think some roses are going to make me forgive you, you are terribly mistaken, Ron Weasley. And...stop looking at me like that!" She held up her hands, trying to avoid his adorable sapphire eyes. "Not the innocent puppy thing, Ron, that is so not fair!"
"Pwease?" He asked in a little kid voice. She looked at him, trying not to smile, but it was in vain. Finally she gave up, accepted his flowers, and kissed his nose affectionately.
"All right, all right..." She said, gesturing for him to come in. She busied herself with looking for a vase for her roses.
"So, did you miss me?" Rayven asked, sliding onto his lap.
"Where did you go?" Ron asked playfully. She stuck her tongue out at him.
"You know what I mean."
"Of course I missed you," He replied, smiling and stroking her hair, content. He was content to sit here, with Rayven for the rest of his life. After a brief interval (yes, this is where the 'kiss and make up' stage took place) he decided to bring up the subject.
"Rayven?"
"Hmm?"
"I was wondering..." Oh dear, this was going to be harder than he thought. "I mean, I'm not, um, well..."
"What is it Ron?" She asked curiously.
"You've got a very interesting ceiling, Rayven," He mused thoughtfully. She raised an eyebrow.
"All that stuttering just to comment on my ceiling?" She asked skeptically.
"But it is an interesting ceiling!" Ron insisted. "Not like the Great Hall or anything, but-"
"Ron?"
"Yes?"
"Get to the point."
"Ah the point," Ron said, shuffling his feet nervously. "Well, the point is...um, well, see...the fact of the matter being that...I'm hungry!" He declared, jumping to his feet. "Let's get some ice cream!"
"No ice cream for you," Rayven said. "Until you tell me what's going on under that mop of red hair."
"Well, we don't have to get ice cream on Main Street or anything..." He stumbled on. "I was thinking we could go somewhere with...really good ice cream?"
"What are you talking about?" She cried, getting frustrated.
"Well, I heard there's this really great ice cream parlor in New York..."
"NEW YORK?"
"Heard of it?" Ron asked sheepishly. "You know, Statue of Liberty, Empire State Building?"
"But that's in AMERICA!" Rayven cried.
"Well, how about Sydney?"
"Australia?" She looked at Ron in shock. "Are you suggesting we leave the country?"
"Well..." Ron blushed. "That about sums it up, yeah."
"RON!" She cried, following his example and leaping to her feet, even though the effect wasn't near as powerful as he was a good deal taller than she was. "Only you could bring food into a subject like leaving England!"
"And food's a bad thing?" Ron asked innocently. Obviously she wasn't going to take this the way he had hoped.
"It's not about the food you dolt!" She exclaimed. "It's...it's...do you really mean leaving?"
"Why wouldn't I?" He asked, starting to get rather agitated. "Look at what happened to Angel. That could be us, Rayven! I can't stand the thought of that happening to you!" He took her hands in his, looking down at her, begging her to understand.
"Run away from our problems?" She asked. "What kind of Gryffindor are you! Honestly, Ron, we can't just leave now!"
"Why not?!" He demanded.
"WE ARE IN THE MIDDLE OF A WAR!" She screamed.
"You think I don't know that?" Ron asked heatedly. "And we've done more than our share, damn it!"
"How can you say that?" Rayven asked, feeling tears of anger welling in her eyes. "This isn't some 'Britain wants the same land France does' this is GOOD VS. EVIL! What the hell kind of morals do you have?!"
"It's not about morals, it's about..." Ron seemed at a loss for words. "Damn it, Rayven, I don't want anything to happen to you!"
"Oh, use me as an excuse for your cowardice," She spat. "I can take care of myself perfectly fine, thank you!"
"That's what Angel said, too!"
"SO?" She screamed. "At least if I die, I WILL DIE FIGHTING!" She turned, not wanting him to see her tears fall.
"Rayven..."
"Don't, Ron," She said. "Don't even try."
"You don't understand what I'm trying to say!"
"I understand just fine!" She exclaimed, whirling around again. "You want to hide away in a corner. You're afraid."
"YES I AM AFRAID!" Ron cried, throwing caution to the wind. "I'm afraid you're going to get KILLED! I can't live without you, Rave, I-" His voice cracked with emotion. "Damn it," He muttered again. "I just want to be with you."
"In another country?" She asked, trying to be vehement, but his words had touched her deeply.
"I don't understand you." He muttered.
"What don't you understand?"
"I don't understand why we can't just run off to Tahiti or some such place and get married and-" Ron's words were cut short. He couldn't believe what he had just said. 'Get MARRIED?'
"What?" Rayven whispered.
"Rayven, I..."
"It was the heat of the moment," She said, trying to control a wave of bitter disappointment. "I understand."
"No!" He cried suddenly, as she started to walk away. "Rayven...I do want to marry you."
"Are you...asking...?" She stuttered somewhat.
"Sure!" Ron suddenly laughed. "Why not, Rayven? I am in love with you, and damn it, I'm going to marry the woman I love...that is, if she'll have me," He looked at Rayven, holding his breath.
"Ron!" She cried, flinging her arms around him and pulling him into a passionate kiss. She laughed as he pulled away and lifted her right off the ground, twirling her in a circle.
"That's a yes, I hope," He said, bringing her down next to him on the sofa.
"Of course..." She muttered. "That wasn't planned, was it?" She asked.
"No, I don't even have a ring," He blushed somewhat.
"Good," She mused. "I like it better this way."
"Well then..." Ron suddenly got a devilish smile. One of those frightening, teenage boy, scares-even-the-Marauders smiles. "Let's go."
"What?" She asked, dazed from all that was happening.
"Let's go, right now!" He leapt up, and turned to his new fiancé.
"Go where?" She giggled.
"To get married." He replied, as if this were obvious.
"Ron!" She leapt up once again. "Are you mad? We can't just up and get married right now!"
"And why not?" Ron asked childishly. Rayven spluttered, trying to find a good answer to his question.
"Because...well...I don't have a dress!" She cried finally, looking down at her sweater and jeans.
"Then go get one. I'll get the rings in the meantime," He said.
"Ron!"
"Rayven!" He pulled her close to him, so close that their foreheads were touching. She saw a light shining in his bright blue eyes. She felt her heart flutter as she realized that light was for HER. He was so excited because he wanted to marry HER, and he couldn't wait...literally.
"This is so crazy," She said, grinning. He kissed her.
"I know," And with that, he reached for his cloak. "How long will it take you to buy a dress?"
"About three hours," She said thoughtfully. Ron nearly dropped his coat again.
"Rayven..." He whined.
"And we'll need witnesses," Rayven continued professionally, as if this were a school assignment rather than her wedding. "So, I'll be able to procure both. You get rings and a priest or something."
"Very well, Miss Michaels," With a thrill, Rayven realized that in only a few hours, that would be her maiden name.
"This is nuts," She said again, but she was grinning like crazy, her cheeks flushed from all the excitement.
"I'll see you at St. Maria's Church in a few hours," He whispered in her ear. He pulled away, grinning the same way she was. "And I might even be dressed for the occasion."
"You'd better be," She said playfully. He grinned and apparated to his own flat.
It wasn't until Ron was in his bedroom that he fully became aware of what he was doing. He was getting married...a scary thing, to be sure, but it was to Rayven. However, the really weird part of it all was the fact that he was getting married without his family or Harry and Hermione, or even Draco! No one knew...he hadn't even known until ten minutes ago!
And the strangest part of all: He was absolutely ecstatic.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Rayven walked into Little Whinging's tiny Dress Shoppe slightly dazed. Was this possible? Was it possible that she, shy, timid little Rayven Michaels, who planned EVERYTHING in advance, was about to get married out of the blue?
Did Voldemort like snakes?
Bad analogy, but it worked. She all but danced into the store. The lady's funny look disappeared as soon as Rayven requested a wedding dress. Young love, the lady sighed.
It did not take Rayven long to decided on a style. Soon, the seamstress had her standing on a stool, hastening to throw the cloth around her. Rayven looked around, and saw a tall, blonde woman standing next to her. They smiled at one another.
"Hi," Rayven said.
"Hello," The other replied. "So...why are you here?" It seemed a good way to start the conversation, since they would undoubtedly be stuck standing next to each other for a while anyway.
"I'm getting my wedding dress," She blushed.
"Congratulations!" The blonde smiled. "When are you getting married?"
"In a few hours,"
"Oh?" The other said curiously.
"Well, it wasn't planned..." Rayven blushed. "See, it's like a hidden...um...Romeo and Juliet kind of thing I guess. We can't tell anyone, and it's all very rushed."
"How romantic," The woman sighed.
"Are you married?" Rayven inquired politely.
"Oh yes," She blushed. "Coming to my twentieth anniversary.
"Really?" Rayven asked, looking the woman up and down. "You look far too young, Mrs....?"
"Dursley, dear," The woman smiled. "Call me Petunia."
"Alright, Petunia..." Rayven smiled shyly. "I'm Rayven Michaels...well, not for long..."
Rayven and Petunia gadded, having fun and bonding quickly. Time slipped by as both dresses slowly started to take shape. Petunia's was for some dull meeting for her husband's job (he made drills), which she was not looking forward to.
"What does your husband do?" Petunia inquired.
"Umm...he works at the Ministry," Rayven replied honestly.
"Oh," Petunia replied. She was pleasant company enough (well...as Rayven was used to Death Eaters as her primary 'company' practically everyone seemed 'pleasant'), but Rayven was beginning to detect a sadness to her voice.
"Look, I know I'm not the person to ask, but..." She looked at her newfound friend curiously. "Are you okay? You seem...upset."
"My son," She muttered. "He died a few months ago."
"Oh how terrible!" Rayven said, a hand raising to her mouth. It occurred to her that innocent Muggles like these were the ones who were affected by her murders. But she pushed all that from her mind...she was getting married and Voldemort was not going to distract her again!
"And I've been having these strange dreams..." She trailed off, as if trying to remember a dream again.
"Really?" Rayven asked curiously. She had taken a course in school especially about the meanings of dreams. She hadn't done very well (a 'C', God forbid), but she had to be better than this Muggle. "I'm rather good with dreams," Rayven lied. "Tell me about it."
"They always have my sister, and we're always children," Petunia began. "And usually, it seems that I've made her mad...I think about her dolls. Then she shows me the doll, and it's my nephew. The only one I remember showed him mostly bald."
"That's odd," Rayven agreed. "Is your sister mean?"
"She's dead," Petunia replied flatly.
"Oh I'm so sorry..." Rayven stuttered.
"It's alright," The other replied. "I hated her anyway."
"And your nephew...?"
"I didn't like him any better, but I raised him anyway," Petunia explained. "Strange...every since my dear Dudley died I keep dreaming about Harry, and I always feel guilty." She sighed.
"I don't think it's much more than that," Rayven said, more because she had no idea what the dream meant then anything else. "I don't understand the bald thing."
"I cut his hair like that once," Petunia said thoughtfully. "When he was very young. He had terrible hair, you understand, and it all..." Petunia cut off suddenly, realizing what she was about to say. "Well, it was embarrassing."
"Quite," Rayven replied, she opened her mouth to continue, but the seamstress interrupted.
"All finished, dearies!" She exclaimed, helping both women from their stools. "Take a look, eh?" She led them to the mirrors. Rayven looked down at the dress in wonder.
'This is my WEDDING DRESS!' She squealed at the thought, while the two older women behind her exchanged knowing glances. She glanced at the clock and gasped.
"Wow, it's been two hours already!" Rayven groaned. "And I still have to find two witnesses and..." She stopped suddenly. Petunia was investigating the dress in the mirror, and the seamstress was beaming behind her.
"Hey!" Rayven exclaimed suddenly. "You two could be my witnesses!"
"At your wedding?" Petunia asked, and Rayven nodded eagerly. "When is it?"
"In an hour at St. Maria's Church in the next village over...will you come?" She asked anxiously.
"I would be honored," Petunia smiled. The seamstress opened her mouth when a little bell tinkled, sound the arrival of a new customer.
"I'm sorry, dearies, I'm needed here," With a smile, she bustled to the front of the shop.
"I need a second witness!" Rayven exclaimed, sounding thoroughly distressed.
"My husband will do it," Petunia mused. "If you let me go home and collect him, I can meet you at the church."
"Oh thank you!" Rayven cried, throwing her arms around the other woman. "You don't know what this means to me!"
"I'll see you there," Petunia smiled, leaving the shop with her dress in a bag and climbing into her car. After making sure no one was looking, Rayven apparated to her flat in search of make up.
And that was how Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley became the only official witnesses for Ron Weasley and Rayven Michaels's wedding.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Rayven?"
"Petunia!" Rayven greeted her default maid-of-honor happily at the door of the tiny church. "Ron's in the chapel with the priest. Um...I'll introduce you, I guess."
"Me first," Petunia replied. "This is Vernon, my husband."
"Pleasure," Vernon grunted, shaking hands with the blushing bride to be.
"And besides, I'm not going to let you introduce us!" Petunia continued efficiently. "I will not allow bad luck on your wedding day. He cannot see you in that dress. Now, before we go in, are you wearing something old?"
"Old?" Rayven asked, frowning. "Well, I've had these shoes forever..."
"Good, and the dress is something new. Okay, anything blue?" Rayven showed Petunia the ribbons in her hair, which were blue and white, wondering what the heck she was on about. "Great!" Petunia smiled. "Now, where this." She handed Rayven an anklet.
"What is this?" She asked.
"It's an anklet," Petunia replied. "You have to wear something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue!"
"You'd know better than I," Rayven laughed.
"Now, we'll go introduce ourselves to the groom," Petunia said, pulling Vernon away. He waved at Rayven halfheartedly and allowed himself to be dragged into the church. Rayven, butterflies flitting around her stomach, ran into the tiny bathroom to...well...I'm not sure what she was doing, but you must remember; she was very nervous.
"Mr. Weasley?" Ron looked up when he heard his name being called. He saw a tall, thin, blonde woman dragging a heavy-set man with balding dark hair and a large mustache.
"Yes?" He asked, curious about who these people were and why they were interrupting his impromptu wedding.
"Hi," The blonde said, approaching and holding out a hand for him to shake. "I'm Petunia Dursley, and this is my husband, Vernon."
If Ron had been sipping a drink, he would've spit it out. If he had been holding something, he would've dropped it. However, he was doing neither, so he made up for it by paling several shades.
"Rayven asked us to be your witnesses..." Mrs. Dursley continued, looking at Ron as if he weren't all there.
"Of...of course," Ron tried to smile, digesting this. The Dursleys. THE DURSLEYS! Harry's aunt and Uncle! How did Rayven FIND these people?
"I'll go find Rayven," Petunia said, smiling at Ron fondly. Ron swallowed his confusion and it suddenly occurred to him how ironic the situation was. "Vernon, stay here with Ron...may I call you Ron?"
"Of course...Petunia," He smiled. 'Oh my God...' Ron thought to himself. 'I'm on better terms with Harry's aunt then Harry is. This is HILARIOUS!'
"So, Vernon," Ron said, turning to Harry's intimidating uncle. "Uh...you like sports?"
"Well, actually..."
Petunia only shook her head as she walked back to Rayven. Men, enough said. She looked around the front of the church, and discovered Rayven nervously pacing around the bathroom.
"You're going to indent the floor," Petunia remarked. Rayven jumped, startled, then turned around.
"It's just...this is all so sudden," She wailed. "I don't know if I'm doing the right thing, and-"
"Do you love him?" Petunia interrupted.
"What?"
"Do you love him?" She repeated.
"Well, of course!" Rayven cried. "I've loved him forever, it's just-"
"If you really love him, you'll be fine," Petunia reassured her. She then pulled out some flowers and handed them to the bride. "I didn't think you had remembered these."
"No," Rayven sighed, accepting the roses. "Thank you."
"Of course dear," Petunia smiled.
Meanwhile, Ron and Vernon had stopped conversing completely. Vernon knew not to even try to talk to a man who's about to tie the knot. Ron was now understanding the groom's 'nervous before the wedding syndrome' he had never understood before. However, in Ron's opinion he had more cause to be nervous than the others, silly biased little boy he was.
Was he doing the right thing? How had he suddenly just up and asked her to marry him, then suddenly, here he was, at the alter, in a matter of hours? This was ridiculous... wasn't it? This wasn't the way weddings were supposed to be!
Ron had always envisioned a big wedding, with his whole family, and all his friends and acquaintances from Hogwarts. He imagined all the old traditions and a big party afterward and to be all psyched out from months of planning. He imagined his bride (who, before Ron met Rayven, had never really had a face) blushing as she walked down the aisle, her father's arm in hers. However, Rayven didn't have a father to speak of, as he had died years ago.
Ron suddenly got a vision of Voldemort himself, dressed up in a tux and smiling proudly as he walked Rayven down the aisle, his catlike eyes looking down at Rayven fondly as she smiled up at him.
Or not.
The thought made him smile, even though it wasn't really funny. Well, nothing was the way he imagined it, really. Instead of a sunny day in August on a sloping meadow, it was May 21, drizzly, and in a tiny church. However, somehow, it seemed right to him this way. He took a deep breath. I'm doing the right thing, he told himself. It was true, and he knew it. Nothing could be wrong with marrying Rayven.
However, as the music began, Ron got the urge to turn and bolt. 'Here comes the bride, all dressed in white...' Oh my God, Ron thought desperately, what am I doing? What if I'm not a good husband? What if Voldemort finds out? What if something happens? I CAN'T DO THIS!
Then he saw her.
She was, in a word, gorgeous. The dress was simpler than Hermione's, yet elegant. Her soft, auburn hair fell gently framed her smiling face, and her eyes were dancing. It was then that Ron realized that she was looking at him the same way Hermione had looked at Harry that day in December. He smiled down at her, feeling completely happy in a way he hadn't thought possible.
Yes, he was DEFINITELY doing the right thing.
He hardly heard a word the rambling priest said. He was too captivated with Rayven's beautiful golden eyes. He said the words 'I do,' in the awed sort of voice that Vernon recognized as an infatuated groom. He looked over at Petunia fondly, to see his wife wiping away tears.
"I now pronounce you man and wife, you may kiss the bride," Ron and Rayven did as the priest commanded (with no objection, of course), and Petunia blew her nose loudly. "I present you with Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Weasley!"
Petunia and Vernon held hands as they followed the newlyweds out of the church and into the Dursley's car. After only a brief discussion (dominated by the Dursleys) they decided on a nice little Italian restaurant, which just happened to be the same one Ron and Rayven had gone to on Valentine's Day.
Ron was in Heaven; the food was great and so was the company...even the Dursleys. Of course, nothing could spoil the happiness of Ron's wedding, except possibly Voldemort. However, by some miracle, neither Ron nor Rayven was summoned that night. Fate seemed to be lending them a helping hand.
The waiter took away their plates, and Ron stood and offered his hand to his new wife. She accepted gracefully, and on his request, the band struck up a song Ron had requested. It was a different band today, with guitars, drums, and a singer rather than the classical he had remembered from his last visit. Ron realized they were the only couple dancing.
~ I could stay awake just to hear you breathing
Watch you smile while you are sleeping
While you're far away and dreaming
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender
I could stay lost in this moment forever
Well, every moment spent with you
Is a moment I treasure~
"I'm in love with you," Ron whispered into her ear as they danced.
"Are you?" She replied, trying to be amusing.
"I've loved you since the moment I saw you," He continued. "You're more than just another pretty face, Rayven. You're perfect...sweet, funny, affectionate...the list of your qualities is endless. I must've done something wonderful in another life to have you."
"You're making me cry," She said honestly, feeling tears well up in her eyes.
"Don't," Ron pleaded. "I can't stand to see you upset."
"I'm not upset," She whispered. "I'm in love."
~ I don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, baby
And I don't wanna miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream would never do
I'd still miss you, baby
And I don't wanna miss a thing~
Ron gently kissed the top of her head, and she nestled herself against him as he pulled her closer. He hadn't lied when he said he'd done something in another life to deserve this... this bliss was not something a murderer deserved. He looked down at her glowing face, realizing again how very in love he was with her. He didn't know it was possible to love someone like this.
"Promise you'll always love me," Rayven murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"I promise."
~ Lying close to you
Feeling your heart beating
And I'm wondering what you're dreaming
Wondering if it's me you're seeing
Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we're together
And I just wanna stay with you
In this moment forever, forever and ever~
"I wish I could stay here forever," Rayven said.
"So do I," Ron replied, smiling lovingly down at his wife. "But at least we'll have each other now, forever."
"Forever," She repeated, as if trying to taste the word. "I like the sound of that."
"Me too," He said, bringing her closer. "Me too." He sealed his statement with a kiss.
~I don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, baby
And I don't wanna miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream would never do
I'd still miss you, baby
And I don't wanna miss a thing~
"So, Mrs. Weasley..." She giggled at his words.
"I like that," She said. "Mrs. Rayven Weasley. Yes, I like that a lot."
"Do you?" Ron raised an eyebrow. "I always thought the name 'Weasley' was rather boring."
"Nothing about you is boring," She assured him, pulling herself closer. "Except maybe your wife."
"My wife..." Ron blinked, seeming to try to absorb this thought. "Of course she isn't boring! She's the most wonderful person I know!"
"Really?" She winked, and he chuckled. Yes, this was perfect. He kissed her again. They weren't aware of the wistful sighs and knowing smiles around them, nor were they aware when other couples began dancing and the hours slipped away.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley knew nothing but each other.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Morning beautiful," Ron commented from the stove.
"Ugh," Rayven replied, unceremoniously dropping into one of the kitchen chairs.
"I see you're a real morning person," He joked. "I have pancakes, eggs, bacon and toast."
"Good."
"A WORD!" Ron exclaimed dramatically, as if this were a great revelation. "Amazing."
"Shut up," She grumbled, but it was good-natured. She took the proffered plate and started devouring the food. Ron looked at her from across the table as he ate, realizing that he would be eating breakfast with her everyday for the rest of his life.
That sounded just fine to him.
"What are you staring at?" She asked, trying not to laugh.
"You," He replied, shrugging and then returning to his breakfast. "You're beautiful."
"As you have already said once this morning," She pointed out, smiling nonetheless. She was fingering the chain around her neck. The only thing on it was her wedding ring. The Weasleys had decided that it was better if no one knew of their marriage, which was sure to make them a target on both sides. Therefore, they had decided to wear their rings on identical chains around their necks. Rayven, the hopeless romantic, had suggested this, with a lot of gabble that sounded like poetry from some book or another.
"I love you," Ron said out of nowhere, around his eggs and bacon.
"I know," She said, rising to put her dish in the sink and kissing his forehead on the way past. "I love you too."
Yep, Ron thought, I can definitely get used to this whole 'marriage thing'. He watched her disappear into the bedroom and come out a moment later fully dressed.
"I'm going to get my stuff, then buy some supplies from Diagon Alley," She said, looking around for her purse. Ron nodded, slowly continuing with his breakfast. She located her confounded purse, and turned to disapparate.
"Oh, and honey?"
"Yes?" Ron replied.
"Be a dear, and do the dishes please?" She smiled. "Thanks," And with a pop, she disapparated. Ron sighed and gazed at the sticky dishes.
Okay, maybe marriage would be harder than he thought....
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ron and Rayven's first month of wedded life passed without much incident with Ron only landing himself on the couch once...and that was over something stupid anyway. Within a week, neither could remember what it was.
May had melted into June, and before he knew it, Ron found himself attending his little sister's graduation. It was the first time he had seen his family and the Potters since his hidden wedding, and he found himself bursting to tell them. However, he managed not to, knowing his mother would never forgive him for going and getting married without them. He decided he would have to think of some way to break the news...they were going to find out sooner or later, from him or otherwise.
And of course, they both had Death Eater duties to attend to. When one didn't come home, the other always knew where their spouse was...out committing some heinous crime or another. Not exactly a warm and fuzzy feeling that, but there was nothing they could do about it.
They still spent time with Draco, of course, but after much debate and discussion, they finally decided that they had better keep their marriage as secret from him as the others. It seemed very ironic to Ron that the only people to know their secret other than the priest that married them were the Dursleys. Rayven wrote Petunia all the time, and Ron found himself constantly pulling letters from Privet Drive out of the Muggle mailbox addressed to Mrs. Rayven Weasley.
Soon, Ron and Rayven became comfortable being married. Even with all the turmoil of war around them, they had resumed a peaceful existence. Voldemort called mercilessly, but the Weasleys took it with the stiff upper lip you'd expect from two undercover spies. They managed to balance Voldemort, the Ministry, their friends and (in Ron's case) family, being married, and happiness.
Who knew that such peace could be shattered?
It was a bright sunny day in the first month of July when they received the owl. It was written in the shaky hand of one in shock, but Ron recognized it as Bill Croaker's.
Ron-come to Ministry.
Well, that was short, sweet, and to the point wasn't it? He called to Rayven, who frowned. "Is it from Bill?"
"I think so..." Ron frowned. "I wonder what's wrong..."
"We won't know if we don't go," Rayven pointed out. Nodding in agreement, Ron apparated to the sight, and heard Rayven do the same next to him.
"Come on," Ron said, gesturing for her to follow him. They marched through the halls and up the stairs, not running into much trouble until they reached the Unspeakable corridor. Frowning, Ron tried to work his way in, but the authorities weren't letting him anywhere.
"Ron!" The voice was that of Draco, who pushed a young someone out of his way. "Rayven! Thank God you two are here."
"What happened?" Rayven asked, her eyes wide with worry.
"Come on in," He said, waving them into the crowded hallway. They slowly progressed through the crowds, stopping at...
"Oh no," Ron muttered, his eyes wide at the sight of yellow tape around the doorway leading into Bill and Dennis's office. Draco beckoned them inside. Ron's first glimpse was not one he much liked; a lot of aurors running around, and Bill, sitting on his desk and staring off into space with wide-eyed shock.
"Bill?" Rayven asked delicately, putting a hand on his shoulder gently. Ron's eyebrows knitted together, distressed over seeing his stouthearted companion in this state.
"He's in there," Bill said dazedly, pointing to the tiny room in which he and Dennis took turns sleeping. With a curious glance at Draco, who was looking at Bill sympathetically, Ron pushed his way inside the room, Rayven at his heels. He stopped abruptly once inside.
"Oh Jesus..." Rayven gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. There, on the ground lie Dennis Bode.
Or rather, his corpse.
Note: I do not own any song lyrics.
Anyhoozles, I love you guys (again!). As several of you already know, I send an update email every time I post. If you'd like to be added to the list, leave a review! I'll be glad to put you on! Oh, and if you have questions on a certain inconsistency of my story (the inconsistency being that I said Death Eaters are enchanted not to love, and yet Ron and Rayven are) don't worry. It doesn't match for a reason, the answers are coming.
And now, to the fic!
Chapter Four:
Two Funerals and a Wedding
~I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music do you?
It goes like this: the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
*Rufus Wainwright's "Hallelujah"
The nursery was quiet at the moment, but not for long. A young girl with fiery tresses stomped in, rudely interrupting another, slightly elder young lady, who was elegantly pouring tea for an over-used teddy bear.
"You little mudworm!" The red haired girl screamed. The other looked up innocently.
"Who, me?"
"YES YOU!" The red haired one continued. Her green eyes flashed dangerously. "Look what you did to my new doll's hair!"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Lily," The other replied, sticking her nose in the air and trying to return to her tea party. However, young Miss Lily Evans was not about to let her sister off so easily. She grabbed a fistful of gold hair, forcing it owner to stand.
"Look at what you did!" She wailed. Wincing, the other complied. Her eyes widened at what she saw. In the blanket was not a doll at all, but a real little boy.
A little boy with large green eyes and a queer scar hidden behind his bangs, which were the only part of his hair left...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The air between the four friends was slightly tenser than they remembered. Or rather, it was tenser between Ron and Rayven. Draco and Angel, of course, didn't have a clue what had happened at Harry's wedding, as neither had attended.
Ron and Rayven were fabulous actors, of course. They had fooled their professors and their peers for over a year...but there was something obviously amiss. Draco and Angel both interrogated them, but to no avail.
No self respecting Death Eater would admit to being in love.
And, of course, Ron and Rayven were no exception. Neither wanted to admit that their heart beat a little faster when they exchanged looks, or that they couldn't touch hands without getting short of breath.
And therefore, they avoided each other at all costs. However, they couldn't stay out of each other's paths indefinitely, since Draco and Angel weren't about to let whatever this fiddle-faddle was interfere with their usual outings. And such was the occasion in the last week of January.
It had not been a good month for Ron. He had killed one teenage boy, two middle aged men, and an elderly woman so far, and had gotten wind of the fact that Harry cut his honeymoon short for Dudley's funeral. Nope, not a good month at all.
Not to mention that avoiding Rayven was practically killing him.
He lay awake at night, tossing and turning. Her eyes haunted his dreams. He could feel her lips and her hands and the silky dress. Damn it, why had he kissed her? He should've known it would be like this.
He had only seen her once since the wedding, and that had been an...awkward situation, to say the least. Draco had grilled him, and somehow Ron survived. And now, they were all going out to lunch.
Oh joy.
However, lunch proved to be more enjoyable then other things Ron could imagine. Like being eaten by a lion, for instance. All right, it wasn't that bad, but the awkward air was still there. Ron couldn't stop looking over at her, and once their eyes met. But only once.
After lunch, Angel insisted that everyone come over just to 'hang out' as she put it. The other three finally agreed. They sat around in her living room, and it did not take Angel and Draco long to engage in lively conversation.
Meanwhile, Rayven and Ron just shuffled their feet and bit their lips.
"Ron?" Rayven said quietly. Ron jumped at the sound of her voice.
"Uh, yeah?" He asked, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.
"Can we go...talk?" She gestured to the hallway.
"I guess so," Ron replied, confusing thoughts and hopes flying through his mind. Angel and Draco only looked up for a moment as the other two disappeared into a hallway before returning to their conversation. They both knew that whatever they were talking about back there would be better than the awkward silences they were having now.
"So...er...what did you want to talk to me about?" Ron asked. He already knew.
"It's about...um...well, at Harry and Hermione's wedding..."
"Yeah?"
"Well...I think..." Rayven avoided his eye, struggling not to stutter. He held on to every stuttered syllable. "We should just forget about it." She said very quickly, all in one breath. "I mean, it's made things really awkward and...can we just pretend it didn't happen?"
Ron looked deep into her eyes. No, he could never forget. He could never forget those foreign, blissful feelings, the way she tasted, her hands in his hair. He could never forget melting away from reality like that. And when he looked at her, he knew she hadn't forgotten either.
"Yeah," He said, breaking his eye contact. "Yeah, I was just about to suggest the same thing."
"Um...okay!" Her face brightened into a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. Something inside of her had been wishing he would passionately reject and kiss her again, but she knew this was for the best. "Okay, let's...uh...go back out there!"
"All right," Ron replied, half smiling. However, as soon as Draco and Angel came back into view, their faces split into twin mischievous grins.
"Ron?" Rayven asked, watching her two friends flirt like mad.
"Rayven," He replied, his eyes twinkling.
"Have you ever seen Fiddler on the Roof?" Ron tore his eyes from Draco's gestures and Angel's giggles for a moment to give Rayven a funny look.
"No, why?" She only smiled in response, but a couple minutes later he heard her begin to sing softly.
"Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match..."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ron wasn't doing much...unless you count staring into the fire doing something, which I certainly don't. Chess bored him now, and all his housework was done. He avoided his bed at all costs, because trying to sleep only brought thoughts of Rayven. He was contemplating getting out all his dishes and washing them for the third time that day when an owl thankfully came in to distract him.
"Hello Seth," Ron said cheerily to the handsome gray barn owl he immediately recognized as Draco's. After feeding him a few owl treats, he retreated to his armchair to read the letter.
Ron,
Yeah, Friday's fine. We're meeting at your flat, right? I'll be there. Is it formal? What shall I wear?! No, just kidding, I'm not Angel you know. See you (and the girls, I'm assuming) Friday.
Draco
Ron grinned. Perfect. He'd already gotten word from Rayven saying she got the green light from Angel. Ron hastily wrote back to Draco, sending Seth away with a few soft coos. He then turned to his parchment and quill to write Rayven.
Suddenly, the parchment, quill and ink became the Enemy.
He sat down, stretched, then grabbed his quill and allowed it to hover over the parchment for a few moments.
Dear Rayven...
No. Ron grabbed the parchment and crumpled it up, throwing it behind him, then tried again. Another no go. Why the hell was writing a letter to her so difficult? Ron wondered furiously. He got the answer when he looked down and found that he had been absently writing her name over and over again...once with the name Weasley attached...
It took Ron over an hour to write the letter, which read as follows:
Rayven,
Draco will be there. See you Friday.
Ron
There, that wasn't too suggestive was it? It didn't imply anything did it? He had considered making it longer for the sheer reason that their names were only separated by one line, but he decided he couldn't risk any more.
He sent it off with Pig. Then he returned to brooding next to the fire. However, after a moment, Ron's frown turned into a grin. Yes, this little scheme of theirs was going fantastically. Ron found himself whistling that little tune Rayven had taught him last week, because both Draco and Angel had failed to realize something.
Friday was Valentine's Day.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Let's get this party started!" Ron looked up from his dark green shirt at the sound of the familiar voice.
"Hello Draco," He smiled.
"Where are the girls?" Draco frowned, looking around the front room of Ron's flat.
"We're here!" Rayven cried, right on cue. She and Angel literally 'popped' in side by side. Ron felt his heart leap into his throat...Rayven was wearing a cute little number the color of pale sunshine, which ended at her knees and was held up by two modest, yet not unbecoming straps. Angel, too, looked rather pretty, with a white dress that was held on by spaghetti straps. However, while all of Rayven's dress fell naturally and moved as she walked, Angel's was skin tight to the waist.
"About time!" Draco announced, breaking the moment of silence that usually ensues whilst boys are gaping at girls.
"Come on, then." Ron said, sounding rather embarrassed as he gestured. As one, they all apparated.
They crossed the street from the alley they had apparated to, finding themselves at a very nice (and rather expensive) Italian restaurant. They were shown to their tables and given their menus, which were, to Angel's relief, written in English.
"That's strange..." Draco muttered as he looked around the room.
"What's strange?" Rayven remarked absently.
"There seem to be a lot of couples here..."
"Of course," Ron said. He exchanged a devilish look with Rayven. "It is Valentine's Day, you know."
"It is?" Draco and Angel asked in unison, their mouths dropping.
"Duh," Rayven replied, trying to hide her smile as Ron tried desperately to turn his laughter into a coughing fit.
"You guys set this up, didn't you?" Angel asked.
"So what if we did?" Ron replied, putting his napkin down again. Draco and Angel exchanged looks and shrugs.
The meal was quite a pleasant affair. They talked and listen to the live orchestra, which was really quite fantastic. There was a dance floor (where about a million couples were dancing and/or kissing), as well as a staircase. Draco, the only one who had been there before, informed them that the only difference between floors one and two was that the second had a balcony.
Dessert came, and Ron and Rayven were starting to get desperate. They were determined to hook up their friends. Their eyes met, and both said the same thing: 'we need to leave them alone together!'
"Well, I'm full!" Ron announced setting down his fork. He looked at Draco and Angel, who were also finishing up. Rayven, of course, had been done before any of them. Ron's eyes studied the room, trying to find a reason for himself and Rayven to leave Draco and Angel to themselves. His eyes landed on the orchestra.
An annoying little voice started whispering into his mind. He common sense told him no, but everything else said yes. This was the only way anyway right? And besides, if he didn't do it, he would only drive himself into insanity wondering what would've happened if he had...
"Rayven," He said, standing and holding out a hand to her. "May I have this dance?" All three of them gaped at him, with Rayven's eyes the widest. Ron's eyes darted to Draco and Angel and back, telling her why he was taking such drastic measures. After a moment, she swallowed.
"Yes," She replied, taking his hand and rising as well. "Yes, of course, Ron."
Ron was well aware as they began dancing that he hadn't been in this close of contact with Rayven since the wedding. He was thrilled to be holding her again, but tortured at the same time. She didn't want him, and he couldn't have her. Why was he even doing this?
Well, that was a dumb question.
"Ron?" Rayven asked.
"What?" Ron replied.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?" He replied innocently. "I was just trying to leave Angel and Draco to themselves."
"That's not what I meant."
"I know."
"Then answer me."
Ron sighed, "You already know the answer, Rayven. Don't play innocent with me."
"You're just making this harder for me." Ron stopped in mid step at her words.
"You?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you hated me."
"Don't be ridiculous," Rayven replied. "You're the one who hates me."
"I don't hate you!" Ron replied, sounding appalled. "I...I..."
"You what?" She asked, looking up at him hopefully. Ron suddenly, once again, became acutely aware of how her dress felt under his hands, and the slight tickling sensation on his neck as she breathed, and how close their bodies really were. And he decided he couldn't stand it any more.
So he kissed her. Again.
It was passionate and fierce, but Rayven kissed back with much the same force. They pulled apart for a moment, then kissed again, slower and softer.
"Rayven," Ron whispered in her ear.
"Ron?" She said breathlessly.
"I love you," He looked down and saw her eyes brimming with tears.
"I love you too," She whispered. After another gentle kiss, she laid her head on his chest. "This is impossible, you know."
"I know." Ron replied. With that, they danced and lost all time and space in each other.
"Hey, where are Draco and Angel?" Ron asked suddenly. Rayven jumped slightly at hearing his voice, and cast her eyes over to the table they had been occupying...it was now empty, and the busboys were setting it up for a new group.
"I don't know..." She muttered. After a thorough search of the dance floor, they decided to try going upstairs.
As Draco had said, it was like walking up a flight of stairs and finding yourself the same place you were before. The décor was the same, the music was the same...they even had the same portraits on the walls! The only difference was a pair of French double doors that led out to the terrace.
"Let's try there," Rayven said, gesturing to the doors. Ron nodded and followed her lead. Rayven opened the door in the silent way that only a Death Eater could, and stepped out, Ron right behind her.
There they were. Draco's hands were gently twirling a stray strand of Angel's brown hair, talking quietly. And right there in front of Ron and Rayven (granted, they didn't realize it) Draco and Angel shared their first kiss.
Ron was all prepared to turn around and go back inside, but Rayven wasn't so nice.
"Don't fancy Draco?" She smirked. They both whirred around, their cheeks flaming. Draco glared at Ron, who hadn't had the time to duck into the building.
"C'mon," Angel said, trying to hide her cheeks. "Let's go."
Laughing, the four apparated into the night.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Yet more plans were made for the foursome to be together, and yet more havoc they wreaked, both in the harmless, teenage fun sense and the deadly game of war. However, they tried to ignore it, as if that were possible. Those four and Severus made up the backbone of Ministry Intelligence.
No pressure.
You must understand (if you don't already) what these five were wagering. Their lives, their happiness...in Ron's case his family and friends. So, with this clarified, you may proceed.
Otherwise it would be hard to understand why Draco, Rayven and Ron were so distressed when Angel was late.
"She was probably just summoned," Rayven said nervously.
"At noon?" Ron pointed out. "That's not Voldemort's style. He prefers midnight, moonless, and freezing."
"How cliché," Draco remarked absently.
"All Dark Lords are the same," Ron continued, as if he had met and served several, and was sitting at a bar with a mug of something hot, a pack of cigarettes and an old friend.
"I believe Grindlewald preferred a full moon," Rayven mused thoughtfully. "It enlightened him."
"And how would you know?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.
"History lesson."
"I HATED History!" Ron and Draco exclaimed in unison. Rayven chuckled.
"How? I mean, it was our most interesting class. Professor McField-"
"Ah," Ron said, as if the mysteries of the Universe had been unveiled. "A proper teacher."
"Always useful for a class." Draco commented.
"What? Mean prof?" Rayven asked curiously. Draco snorted.
"Dead prof, you mean."
"WHAT?"
"Professor Binns," Ron made a face. "He was a ghost...definitely the most boring ghost in existence."
"Uh-huh. Well, we did have that one teacher that absolutely no one listened to, and was so old he might as well have been dead." Rayven mused. "Her name was Professor Byrd." Draco opened his mouth to make a smart remark, but the words never came.
They all felt it. Like a friend being cut out of a picture. Like a child being wrenched from its mother. Like a husband crying out to his wife... Someone in their little family had just been taken from them.
"Angel,"
It was only one breath, but Draco's word suddenly brought panic. After a split second, the three reached a mutual decision and apparated from Rayven's flat to Angel's.
"Angel," Rayven called, looking around the living room and kitchen. She was met with silence...dead silence. "Angel!" She sounded more desperate this time. Draco looked down the hallway, and saw the door to her room slightly opened. He went down carefully. Rayven and Ron followed him. Looking back at his companions only once, Draco pushed the door open.
Draco staggered back several paces and Rayven buried her face in Ron's shoulder. Ron could only stare.
"Oh my God..."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Severus Snape was in his element. Sneering in the expert way only a Death Eater can, he was leering over the slightly...okay VERY off-color potion of Ginny Weasley and her unfortunate Potions partner, Colin Creevey. However, just as he was about to start spouting insults and taking away points, the door to his classroom was flung open. He turned on heel, very annoyed at being interrupted in the midst of his favorite pastime.
"Headmaster!" He exclaimed in surprise. Indeed it was. Dumbledore crossed the room quickly and handed Severus a letter. Taking it and looking down, he realized that it had already been opened. He began to pull out the parchment within, but Dumbledore stopped him.
"You are needed Severus." The Headmaster said simply, in answer to his professor's questioning eyes.
"Where?" He asked.
"Draco,"
Severus felt his eyes widen. Draco...but with Draco would come Ron and Rayven and Angel and...oh dear God, someone had been discovered. Without a backward glance, he swept out of the classroom. His students only stared. Dumbledore pulled out a wand and, with a sigh, muttered "Obliviate," He smiled cheerfully at the class.
"The rest of Potions class has been canceled due to the fact that Professor Snape was needed in the infirmary." The class cheered, and went about their daily business, not remembering anything before the Memory Charm.
Only Ginny Weasley was quick enough to avoid it.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
By the time Severus arrived several Ministry officials were already surrounding Angel's flat. The letter had been only been an address, written in the shaky had Severus had immediately identified as Draco's. He hadn't expected trouble on getting inside, however, that's what he got.
"Excuse me, sir," Some Ministry official or another said importantly, gesturing Snape away from the yellow tape. "Ministry business, no civilians."
"I am needed," Severus replied, feeling his fists ball up.
"Sorry, sir, no one gets in without the clear," The young man seemed to be thoroughly enjoying this.
"Listen sir," He pronounced the second word with as much sarcasm as he could muster. "If you do not let me in there, I will-"
"Severus!" A familiar voice interrupted. William Croaker jogged over to where the two men were standing...er glaring rather.
"Bill, tell this infernal kid to get out of my way." Severus commanded.
"You'd better get away, O'Henry."
"But sir-"
"Go back to work. Mr. Snape here has every right to come in," This did not help Severus's imagination, which had been producing all kinds of terrible images.
"What is going on, Bill?" He asked quietly, once that O'Henner (or something like that) character had sulked off.
"Go up for yourself, Severus," Bill replied sadly. "I've got to go collect some Ministry blokes. It's flat B12."
"Thank you," He muttered, and immediately pushed into the building and made his way through the milling aurors and into the flat. As he entered the living room, he knew it was much worse than he had expected.
The first thing he saw was the quivering figure on the sofa. Actually, he realized as his eyes accustomed themselves to the light, there were two figures. Rayven was the quivering one, shaking with sobs. She was curled up, crying onto Ron's chest. He stroked her hair and seemed to be taking shaky breaths, trying to calm himself. It appeared that he had been crying as well. If two of Voldemort's favored assassins are crying, you know something is wrong.
It was another few moments before Severus became aware of Draco's presence. He was standing in the shadows, leaning back against the wall for support. His stare was burning a hole through the wall, and his aura was even colder than usual.
"Severus," Ron said, the first to notice his old professor. Rayven looked up, and Severus didn't miss the trails of tears down her smooth cheeks. Draco nodded.
"That way," The last said, gesturing to the hallway. Severus nodded and walked down, wondering what he would find...he wasn't prepared for what he saw.
The room had once been Angel's bedroom. She was there, sprawled out on the bed, her limbs at impossible angles. Her skin, once beautiful, was now stained with blood...not a single spot was untouched. Severus's eyes traveled the room, and he thought he would be sick when he saw the wall above the bed. In a dark, brownish stain that could only be blood was written one word.
'Traitor'
With morbid curiosity, Severus got as close as he could (what with all those annoying Ministry blokes still running around) to Angel's body for further investigation. There he saw that the skin had cuts...millions of tiny, painful little cuts. He looked sadly on the twisted face of the brave young woman he had known, then turned to join his counterparts in mourning.
He sank into an armchair. No words passed between the four of them...none needed to be. They were all thinking the same thing: Nothing at all. Numb disbelief had taken them, and only Rayven had enough in her to cry. The three men simply stared at each other, remembering Angel and trying to imagine life without her.
Perhaps that was so startled when one of the Ministry officials said something to them.
"Ron?" A confused voice asked. The four jumped, and turned to see a young brunette looking curiously as them. "Malfoy? Snape?"
"Hermione?" Ron replied, his voice croaking. "What are you doing here?"
"I was investigating the body in situ," Hermione replied, shrugging. "Obviously some Death Eater who dared to tattle once about something stupid. Probably just a warning to the others. What are you doing here?"
Ron gave a strangled cry at her words. Total lack of respect. She has saved your life, Hermione! His mind screamed. However, nothing would come out. Unable to look at her curious face any longer, he did the only thing he could think of, and apparated out of their. The other three, after giving Hermione their own unique Death Eater glare, followed suit.
"Well, that was strange," Hermione muttered, and went back to work.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
There weren't many people at the funeral of Angel Pentser. However, those who were there were there to grieve, and were not paying the slightest attention to the priest as her coffin hovered over her final resting place. Angel had touched the hearts of few, but she hadn't touched them at all, rather caressed them.
Of course, the Ministry would be holding a recognition/award ceremony in their spy's honor. But the other four couldn't attend...word would get around to good old Voldie.
Draco was in quite a state. He had just, Ron knew, found out his feeling for her, and now she was disappearing into the depths of the earth. Heartbreaking...and rather worthy of an epic poem, in Ron's opinion. However, poetry was the last thing on his mind. He had managed to keep his emotions under control, trying to be supportive of Rayven.
Rayven. You had to feel sorry for her. Rayven and Angel had been friends for God only knows how many years...at least as long as Ron had known Harry. To see her friend dead--murdered by Voldemort-was more than she could bear.
Severus's demeanor was as stony as always, but Ron did not miss his slightly trembling hands. Ron was amazed to find that he himself wasn't so steady. One of their own...gone.
If Hermione was correct (which she almost always was) and the gruesome death was more of a warning to other traitors of their fate, Voldemort had done a damn good job of it. Ron knew now, more than he ever had before, what would happen if he was found out. If someone, probably one of the more eager Death Eaters, discovered his true colors, death was certain to come knocking on his door. But what could he do about it? Once a Death Eater, you couldn't just resign, and he wasn't about to turn truly Death Eater and abandon his post as a spy.
He could never turn back. It was too late now.
In an automatic, mechanical motion, Ron and the others threw black roses into the grave with Angel. It was too late for her, but her death would not be in vain. The ceremony closed itself, and Ron looked around one last time. He was pleased to note there were no other Death Eaters here before he apparated away.
No one noticed a man standing in the shadows. He was a Death Eater, who went by the name of Marcus Flint. He had come to say goodbye to Angel.
He was holding an infant in his arms.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It took a long time for the Circle of the Two-Faced to recover from its loss. However, time did go one. Ron and Rayven continued to kill, Draco continued to steal, and Severus continued to concoct terrifying Potions and frighten young Hufflepuffs on the side.
Angel was never forgotten.
The possible consequences of his decision were haunting Ron Weasley. For the first time in his life, he wished he could sit in the shadows and let someone else be the hero. He wanted to be ignorant and protected. He wanted to settle down and start a family...
With Rayven, of course.
With time, their bond had only strengthened. It was coming to be June, and Ron had known since December how much he loved her. How quickly time had passed! And so much had changed...He just wanted to run away from it all.
Yes, running away. The thought of running away had crossed the mind of Ronald Weasley of Gryffindor. Not once, but many, many times he had thought of ways to run. To hide away in another country until all the turmoil in Britain died down. America was looking like a good choice, or perhaps Australia.
However, he knew he could never leave without Rayven.
Their relationship had now officially reached the 'dating' stage. And they fought, like every couple does, but they always made it up. And it was after one of these little 'lover's spats', as Severus referred to them in disgust, that Ron was going to bring up the idea of running off.
He was hoping in the heat of 'kiss and make up' that she would forget herself and agree, so he could whisk her off to safety. The thought of her being in danger of a fate like Angel's was plaguing him. He had had several nightmares of Angel's death, and recently Angel's body had been replaced with Rayven's. This was one thing he was not about to let happen.
And so, he rang the doorbell to her flat, hoping she was cooled down enough to at least let them reach the 'kiss and make up' stage of things.
"What do you want?" She snapped as she opened the door. She was trying to still be angry with him, but Ron could tell she wasn't. With puppy eyes, he pulled a bouquet of roses from behind his back.
"Forgive me?" He asked innocently.
"Absolutely not!" She declared, putting her nose in the air. "If you think some roses are going to make me forgive you, you are terribly mistaken, Ron Weasley. And...stop looking at me like that!" She held up her hands, trying to avoid his adorable sapphire eyes. "Not the innocent puppy thing, Ron, that is so not fair!"
"Pwease?" He asked in a little kid voice. She looked at him, trying not to smile, but it was in vain. Finally she gave up, accepted his flowers, and kissed his nose affectionately.
"All right, all right..." She said, gesturing for him to come in. She busied herself with looking for a vase for her roses.
"So, did you miss me?" Rayven asked, sliding onto his lap.
"Where did you go?" Ron asked playfully. She stuck her tongue out at him.
"You know what I mean."
"Of course I missed you," He replied, smiling and stroking her hair, content. He was content to sit here, with Rayven for the rest of his life. After a brief interval (yes, this is where the 'kiss and make up' stage took place) he decided to bring up the subject.
"Rayven?"
"Hmm?"
"I was wondering..." Oh dear, this was going to be harder than he thought. "I mean, I'm not, um, well..."
"What is it Ron?" She asked curiously.
"You've got a very interesting ceiling, Rayven," He mused thoughtfully. She raised an eyebrow.
"All that stuttering just to comment on my ceiling?" She asked skeptically.
"But it is an interesting ceiling!" Ron insisted. "Not like the Great Hall or anything, but-"
"Ron?"
"Yes?"
"Get to the point."
"Ah the point," Ron said, shuffling his feet nervously. "Well, the point is...um, well, see...the fact of the matter being that...I'm hungry!" He declared, jumping to his feet. "Let's get some ice cream!"
"No ice cream for you," Rayven said. "Until you tell me what's going on under that mop of red hair."
"Well, we don't have to get ice cream on Main Street or anything..." He stumbled on. "I was thinking we could go somewhere with...really good ice cream?"
"What are you talking about?" She cried, getting frustrated.
"Well, I heard there's this really great ice cream parlor in New York..."
"NEW YORK?"
"Heard of it?" Ron asked sheepishly. "You know, Statue of Liberty, Empire State Building?"
"But that's in AMERICA!" Rayven cried.
"Well, how about Sydney?"
"Australia?" She looked at Ron in shock. "Are you suggesting we leave the country?"
"Well..." Ron blushed. "That about sums it up, yeah."
"RON!" She cried, following his example and leaping to her feet, even though the effect wasn't near as powerful as he was a good deal taller than she was. "Only you could bring food into a subject like leaving England!"
"And food's a bad thing?" Ron asked innocently. Obviously she wasn't going to take this the way he had hoped.
"It's not about the food you dolt!" She exclaimed. "It's...it's...do you really mean leaving?"
"Why wouldn't I?" He asked, starting to get rather agitated. "Look at what happened to Angel. That could be us, Rayven! I can't stand the thought of that happening to you!" He took her hands in his, looking down at her, begging her to understand.
"Run away from our problems?" She asked. "What kind of Gryffindor are you! Honestly, Ron, we can't just leave now!"
"Why not?!" He demanded.
"WE ARE IN THE MIDDLE OF A WAR!" She screamed.
"You think I don't know that?" Ron asked heatedly. "And we've done more than our share, damn it!"
"How can you say that?" Rayven asked, feeling tears of anger welling in her eyes. "This isn't some 'Britain wants the same land France does' this is GOOD VS. EVIL! What the hell kind of morals do you have?!"
"It's not about morals, it's about..." Ron seemed at a loss for words. "Damn it, Rayven, I don't want anything to happen to you!"
"Oh, use me as an excuse for your cowardice," She spat. "I can take care of myself perfectly fine, thank you!"
"That's what Angel said, too!"
"SO?" She screamed. "At least if I die, I WILL DIE FIGHTING!" She turned, not wanting him to see her tears fall.
"Rayven..."
"Don't, Ron," She said. "Don't even try."
"You don't understand what I'm trying to say!"
"I understand just fine!" She exclaimed, whirling around again. "You want to hide away in a corner. You're afraid."
"YES I AM AFRAID!" Ron cried, throwing caution to the wind. "I'm afraid you're going to get KILLED! I can't live without you, Rave, I-" His voice cracked with emotion. "Damn it," He muttered again. "I just want to be with you."
"In another country?" She asked, trying to be vehement, but his words had touched her deeply.
"I don't understand you." He muttered.
"What don't you understand?"
"I don't understand why we can't just run off to Tahiti or some such place and get married and-" Ron's words were cut short. He couldn't believe what he had just said. 'Get MARRIED?'
"What?" Rayven whispered.
"Rayven, I..."
"It was the heat of the moment," She said, trying to control a wave of bitter disappointment. "I understand."
"No!" He cried suddenly, as she started to walk away. "Rayven...I do want to marry you."
"Are you...asking...?" She stuttered somewhat.
"Sure!" Ron suddenly laughed. "Why not, Rayven? I am in love with you, and damn it, I'm going to marry the woman I love...that is, if she'll have me," He looked at Rayven, holding his breath.
"Ron!" She cried, flinging her arms around him and pulling him into a passionate kiss. She laughed as he pulled away and lifted her right off the ground, twirling her in a circle.
"That's a yes, I hope," He said, bringing her down next to him on the sofa.
"Of course..." She muttered. "That wasn't planned, was it?" She asked.
"No, I don't even have a ring," He blushed somewhat.
"Good," She mused. "I like it better this way."
"Well then..." Ron suddenly got a devilish smile. One of those frightening, teenage boy, scares-even-the-Marauders smiles. "Let's go."
"What?" She asked, dazed from all that was happening.
"Let's go, right now!" He leapt up, and turned to his new fiancé.
"Go where?" She giggled.
"To get married." He replied, as if this were obvious.
"Ron!" She leapt up once again. "Are you mad? We can't just up and get married right now!"
"And why not?" Ron asked childishly. Rayven spluttered, trying to find a good answer to his question.
"Because...well...I don't have a dress!" She cried finally, looking down at her sweater and jeans.
"Then go get one. I'll get the rings in the meantime," He said.
"Ron!"
"Rayven!" He pulled her close to him, so close that their foreheads were touching. She saw a light shining in his bright blue eyes. She felt her heart flutter as she realized that light was for HER. He was so excited because he wanted to marry HER, and he couldn't wait...literally.
"This is so crazy," She said, grinning. He kissed her.
"I know," And with that, he reached for his cloak. "How long will it take you to buy a dress?"
"About three hours," She said thoughtfully. Ron nearly dropped his coat again.
"Rayven..." He whined.
"And we'll need witnesses," Rayven continued professionally, as if this were a school assignment rather than her wedding. "So, I'll be able to procure both. You get rings and a priest or something."
"Very well, Miss Michaels," With a thrill, Rayven realized that in only a few hours, that would be her maiden name.
"This is nuts," She said again, but she was grinning like crazy, her cheeks flushed from all the excitement.
"I'll see you at St. Maria's Church in a few hours," He whispered in her ear. He pulled away, grinning the same way she was. "And I might even be dressed for the occasion."
"You'd better be," She said playfully. He grinned and apparated to his own flat.
It wasn't until Ron was in his bedroom that he fully became aware of what he was doing. He was getting married...a scary thing, to be sure, but it was to Rayven. However, the really weird part of it all was the fact that he was getting married without his family or Harry and Hermione, or even Draco! No one knew...he hadn't even known until ten minutes ago!
And the strangest part of all: He was absolutely ecstatic.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Rayven walked into Little Whinging's tiny Dress Shoppe slightly dazed. Was this possible? Was it possible that she, shy, timid little Rayven Michaels, who planned EVERYTHING in advance, was about to get married out of the blue?
Did Voldemort like snakes?
Bad analogy, but it worked. She all but danced into the store. The lady's funny look disappeared as soon as Rayven requested a wedding dress. Young love, the lady sighed.
It did not take Rayven long to decided on a style. Soon, the seamstress had her standing on a stool, hastening to throw the cloth around her. Rayven looked around, and saw a tall, blonde woman standing next to her. They smiled at one another.
"Hi," Rayven said.
"Hello," The other replied. "So...why are you here?" It seemed a good way to start the conversation, since they would undoubtedly be stuck standing next to each other for a while anyway.
"I'm getting my wedding dress," She blushed.
"Congratulations!" The blonde smiled. "When are you getting married?"
"In a few hours,"
"Oh?" The other said curiously.
"Well, it wasn't planned..." Rayven blushed. "See, it's like a hidden...um...Romeo and Juliet kind of thing I guess. We can't tell anyone, and it's all very rushed."
"How romantic," The woman sighed.
"Are you married?" Rayven inquired politely.
"Oh yes," She blushed. "Coming to my twentieth anniversary.
"Really?" Rayven asked, looking the woman up and down. "You look far too young, Mrs....?"
"Dursley, dear," The woman smiled. "Call me Petunia."
"Alright, Petunia..." Rayven smiled shyly. "I'm Rayven Michaels...well, not for long..."
Rayven and Petunia gadded, having fun and bonding quickly. Time slipped by as both dresses slowly started to take shape. Petunia's was for some dull meeting for her husband's job (he made drills), which she was not looking forward to.
"What does your husband do?" Petunia inquired.
"Umm...he works at the Ministry," Rayven replied honestly.
"Oh," Petunia replied. She was pleasant company enough (well...as Rayven was used to Death Eaters as her primary 'company' practically everyone seemed 'pleasant'), but Rayven was beginning to detect a sadness to her voice.
"Look, I know I'm not the person to ask, but..." She looked at her newfound friend curiously. "Are you okay? You seem...upset."
"My son," She muttered. "He died a few months ago."
"Oh how terrible!" Rayven said, a hand raising to her mouth. It occurred to her that innocent Muggles like these were the ones who were affected by her murders. But she pushed all that from her mind...she was getting married and Voldemort was not going to distract her again!
"And I've been having these strange dreams..." She trailed off, as if trying to remember a dream again.
"Really?" Rayven asked curiously. She had taken a course in school especially about the meanings of dreams. She hadn't done very well (a 'C', God forbid), but she had to be better than this Muggle. "I'm rather good with dreams," Rayven lied. "Tell me about it."
"They always have my sister, and we're always children," Petunia began. "And usually, it seems that I've made her mad...I think about her dolls. Then she shows me the doll, and it's my nephew. The only one I remember showed him mostly bald."
"That's odd," Rayven agreed. "Is your sister mean?"
"She's dead," Petunia replied flatly.
"Oh I'm so sorry..." Rayven stuttered.
"It's alright," The other replied. "I hated her anyway."
"And your nephew...?"
"I didn't like him any better, but I raised him anyway," Petunia explained. "Strange...every since my dear Dudley died I keep dreaming about Harry, and I always feel guilty." She sighed.
"I don't think it's much more than that," Rayven said, more because she had no idea what the dream meant then anything else. "I don't understand the bald thing."
"I cut his hair like that once," Petunia said thoughtfully. "When he was very young. He had terrible hair, you understand, and it all..." Petunia cut off suddenly, realizing what she was about to say. "Well, it was embarrassing."
"Quite," Rayven replied, she opened her mouth to continue, but the seamstress interrupted.
"All finished, dearies!" She exclaimed, helping both women from their stools. "Take a look, eh?" She led them to the mirrors. Rayven looked down at the dress in wonder.
'This is my WEDDING DRESS!' She squealed at the thought, while the two older women behind her exchanged knowing glances. She glanced at the clock and gasped.
"Wow, it's been two hours already!" Rayven groaned. "And I still have to find two witnesses and..." She stopped suddenly. Petunia was investigating the dress in the mirror, and the seamstress was beaming behind her.
"Hey!" Rayven exclaimed suddenly. "You two could be my witnesses!"
"At your wedding?" Petunia asked, and Rayven nodded eagerly. "When is it?"
"In an hour at St. Maria's Church in the next village over...will you come?" She asked anxiously.
"I would be honored," Petunia smiled. The seamstress opened her mouth when a little bell tinkled, sound the arrival of a new customer.
"I'm sorry, dearies, I'm needed here," With a smile, she bustled to the front of the shop.
"I need a second witness!" Rayven exclaimed, sounding thoroughly distressed.
"My husband will do it," Petunia mused. "If you let me go home and collect him, I can meet you at the church."
"Oh thank you!" Rayven cried, throwing her arms around the other woman. "You don't know what this means to me!"
"I'll see you there," Petunia smiled, leaving the shop with her dress in a bag and climbing into her car. After making sure no one was looking, Rayven apparated to her flat in search of make up.
And that was how Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley became the only official witnesses for Ron Weasley and Rayven Michaels's wedding.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Rayven?"
"Petunia!" Rayven greeted her default maid-of-honor happily at the door of the tiny church. "Ron's in the chapel with the priest. Um...I'll introduce you, I guess."
"Me first," Petunia replied. "This is Vernon, my husband."
"Pleasure," Vernon grunted, shaking hands with the blushing bride to be.
"And besides, I'm not going to let you introduce us!" Petunia continued efficiently. "I will not allow bad luck on your wedding day. He cannot see you in that dress. Now, before we go in, are you wearing something old?"
"Old?" Rayven asked, frowning. "Well, I've had these shoes forever..."
"Good, and the dress is something new. Okay, anything blue?" Rayven showed Petunia the ribbons in her hair, which were blue and white, wondering what the heck she was on about. "Great!" Petunia smiled. "Now, where this." She handed Rayven an anklet.
"What is this?" She asked.
"It's an anklet," Petunia replied. "You have to wear something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue!"
"You'd know better than I," Rayven laughed.
"Now, we'll go introduce ourselves to the groom," Petunia said, pulling Vernon away. He waved at Rayven halfheartedly and allowed himself to be dragged into the church. Rayven, butterflies flitting around her stomach, ran into the tiny bathroom to...well...I'm not sure what she was doing, but you must remember; she was very nervous.
"Mr. Weasley?" Ron looked up when he heard his name being called. He saw a tall, thin, blonde woman dragging a heavy-set man with balding dark hair and a large mustache.
"Yes?" He asked, curious about who these people were and why they were interrupting his impromptu wedding.
"Hi," The blonde said, approaching and holding out a hand for him to shake. "I'm Petunia Dursley, and this is my husband, Vernon."
If Ron had been sipping a drink, he would've spit it out. If he had been holding something, he would've dropped it. However, he was doing neither, so he made up for it by paling several shades.
"Rayven asked us to be your witnesses..." Mrs. Dursley continued, looking at Ron as if he weren't all there.
"Of...of course," Ron tried to smile, digesting this. The Dursleys. THE DURSLEYS! Harry's aunt and Uncle! How did Rayven FIND these people?
"I'll go find Rayven," Petunia said, smiling at Ron fondly. Ron swallowed his confusion and it suddenly occurred to him how ironic the situation was. "Vernon, stay here with Ron...may I call you Ron?"
"Of course...Petunia," He smiled. 'Oh my God...' Ron thought to himself. 'I'm on better terms with Harry's aunt then Harry is. This is HILARIOUS!'
"So, Vernon," Ron said, turning to Harry's intimidating uncle. "Uh...you like sports?"
"Well, actually..."
Petunia only shook her head as she walked back to Rayven. Men, enough said. She looked around the front of the church, and discovered Rayven nervously pacing around the bathroom.
"You're going to indent the floor," Petunia remarked. Rayven jumped, startled, then turned around.
"It's just...this is all so sudden," She wailed. "I don't know if I'm doing the right thing, and-"
"Do you love him?" Petunia interrupted.
"What?"
"Do you love him?" She repeated.
"Well, of course!" Rayven cried. "I've loved him forever, it's just-"
"If you really love him, you'll be fine," Petunia reassured her. She then pulled out some flowers and handed them to the bride. "I didn't think you had remembered these."
"No," Rayven sighed, accepting the roses. "Thank you."
"Of course dear," Petunia smiled.
Meanwhile, Ron and Vernon had stopped conversing completely. Vernon knew not to even try to talk to a man who's about to tie the knot. Ron was now understanding the groom's 'nervous before the wedding syndrome' he had never understood before. However, in Ron's opinion he had more cause to be nervous than the others, silly biased little boy he was.
Was he doing the right thing? How had he suddenly just up and asked her to marry him, then suddenly, here he was, at the alter, in a matter of hours? This was ridiculous... wasn't it? This wasn't the way weddings were supposed to be!
Ron had always envisioned a big wedding, with his whole family, and all his friends and acquaintances from Hogwarts. He imagined all the old traditions and a big party afterward and to be all psyched out from months of planning. He imagined his bride (who, before Ron met Rayven, had never really had a face) blushing as she walked down the aisle, her father's arm in hers. However, Rayven didn't have a father to speak of, as he had died years ago.
Ron suddenly got a vision of Voldemort himself, dressed up in a tux and smiling proudly as he walked Rayven down the aisle, his catlike eyes looking down at Rayven fondly as she smiled up at him.
Or not.
The thought made him smile, even though it wasn't really funny. Well, nothing was the way he imagined it, really. Instead of a sunny day in August on a sloping meadow, it was May 21, drizzly, and in a tiny church. However, somehow, it seemed right to him this way. He took a deep breath. I'm doing the right thing, he told himself. It was true, and he knew it. Nothing could be wrong with marrying Rayven.
However, as the music began, Ron got the urge to turn and bolt. 'Here comes the bride, all dressed in white...' Oh my God, Ron thought desperately, what am I doing? What if I'm not a good husband? What if Voldemort finds out? What if something happens? I CAN'T DO THIS!
Then he saw her.
She was, in a word, gorgeous. The dress was simpler than Hermione's, yet elegant. Her soft, auburn hair fell gently framed her smiling face, and her eyes were dancing. It was then that Ron realized that she was looking at him the same way Hermione had looked at Harry that day in December. He smiled down at her, feeling completely happy in a way he hadn't thought possible.
Yes, he was DEFINITELY doing the right thing.
He hardly heard a word the rambling priest said. He was too captivated with Rayven's beautiful golden eyes. He said the words 'I do,' in the awed sort of voice that Vernon recognized as an infatuated groom. He looked over at Petunia fondly, to see his wife wiping away tears.
"I now pronounce you man and wife, you may kiss the bride," Ron and Rayven did as the priest commanded (with no objection, of course), and Petunia blew her nose loudly. "I present you with Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Weasley!"
Petunia and Vernon held hands as they followed the newlyweds out of the church and into the Dursley's car. After only a brief discussion (dominated by the Dursleys) they decided on a nice little Italian restaurant, which just happened to be the same one Ron and Rayven had gone to on Valentine's Day.
Ron was in Heaven; the food was great and so was the company...even the Dursleys. Of course, nothing could spoil the happiness of Ron's wedding, except possibly Voldemort. However, by some miracle, neither Ron nor Rayven was summoned that night. Fate seemed to be lending them a helping hand.
The waiter took away their plates, and Ron stood and offered his hand to his new wife. She accepted gracefully, and on his request, the band struck up a song Ron had requested. It was a different band today, with guitars, drums, and a singer rather than the classical he had remembered from his last visit. Ron realized they were the only couple dancing.
~ I could stay awake just to hear you breathing
Watch you smile while you are sleeping
While you're far away and dreaming
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender
I could stay lost in this moment forever
Well, every moment spent with you
Is a moment I treasure~
"I'm in love with you," Ron whispered into her ear as they danced.
"Are you?" She replied, trying to be amusing.
"I've loved you since the moment I saw you," He continued. "You're more than just another pretty face, Rayven. You're perfect...sweet, funny, affectionate...the list of your qualities is endless. I must've done something wonderful in another life to have you."
"You're making me cry," She said honestly, feeling tears well up in her eyes.
"Don't," Ron pleaded. "I can't stand to see you upset."
"I'm not upset," She whispered. "I'm in love."
~ I don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, baby
And I don't wanna miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream would never do
I'd still miss you, baby
And I don't wanna miss a thing~
Ron gently kissed the top of her head, and she nestled herself against him as he pulled her closer. He hadn't lied when he said he'd done something in another life to deserve this... this bliss was not something a murderer deserved. He looked down at her glowing face, realizing again how very in love he was with her. He didn't know it was possible to love someone like this.
"Promise you'll always love me," Rayven murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"I promise."
~ Lying close to you
Feeling your heart beating
And I'm wondering what you're dreaming
Wondering if it's me you're seeing
Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we're together
And I just wanna stay with you
In this moment forever, forever and ever~
"I wish I could stay here forever," Rayven said.
"So do I," Ron replied, smiling lovingly down at his wife. "But at least we'll have each other now, forever."
"Forever," She repeated, as if trying to taste the word. "I like the sound of that."
"Me too," He said, bringing her closer. "Me too." He sealed his statement with a kiss.
~I don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, baby
And I don't wanna miss a thing
'Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream would never do
I'd still miss you, baby
And I don't wanna miss a thing~
"So, Mrs. Weasley..." She giggled at his words.
"I like that," She said. "Mrs. Rayven Weasley. Yes, I like that a lot."
"Do you?" Ron raised an eyebrow. "I always thought the name 'Weasley' was rather boring."
"Nothing about you is boring," She assured him, pulling herself closer. "Except maybe your wife."
"My wife..." Ron blinked, seeming to try to absorb this thought. "Of course she isn't boring! She's the most wonderful person I know!"
"Really?" She winked, and he chuckled. Yes, this was perfect. He kissed her again. They weren't aware of the wistful sighs and knowing smiles around them, nor were they aware when other couples began dancing and the hours slipped away.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley knew nothing but each other.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Morning beautiful," Ron commented from the stove.
"Ugh," Rayven replied, unceremoniously dropping into one of the kitchen chairs.
"I see you're a real morning person," He joked. "I have pancakes, eggs, bacon and toast."
"Good."
"A WORD!" Ron exclaimed dramatically, as if this were a great revelation. "Amazing."
"Shut up," She grumbled, but it was good-natured. She took the proffered plate and started devouring the food. Ron looked at her from across the table as he ate, realizing that he would be eating breakfast with her everyday for the rest of his life.
That sounded just fine to him.
"What are you staring at?" She asked, trying not to laugh.
"You," He replied, shrugging and then returning to his breakfast. "You're beautiful."
"As you have already said once this morning," She pointed out, smiling nonetheless. She was fingering the chain around her neck. The only thing on it was her wedding ring. The Weasleys had decided that it was better if no one knew of their marriage, which was sure to make them a target on both sides. Therefore, they had decided to wear their rings on identical chains around their necks. Rayven, the hopeless romantic, had suggested this, with a lot of gabble that sounded like poetry from some book or another.
"I love you," Ron said out of nowhere, around his eggs and bacon.
"I know," She said, rising to put her dish in the sink and kissing his forehead on the way past. "I love you too."
Yep, Ron thought, I can definitely get used to this whole 'marriage thing'. He watched her disappear into the bedroom and come out a moment later fully dressed.
"I'm going to get my stuff, then buy some supplies from Diagon Alley," She said, looking around for her purse. Ron nodded, slowly continuing with his breakfast. She located her confounded purse, and turned to disapparate.
"Oh, and honey?"
"Yes?" Ron replied.
"Be a dear, and do the dishes please?" She smiled. "Thanks," And with a pop, she disapparated. Ron sighed and gazed at the sticky dishes.
Okay, maybe marriage would be harder than he thought....
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ron and Rayven's first month of wedded life passed without much incident with Ron only landing himself on the couch once...and that was over something stupid anyway. Within a week, neither could remember what it was.
May had melted into June, and before he knew it, Ron found himself attending his little sister's graduation. It was the first time he had seen his family and the Potters since his hidden wedding, and he found himself bursting to tell them. However, he managed not to, knowing his mother would never forgive him for going and getting married without them. He decided he would have to think of some way to break the news...they were going to find out sooner or later, from him or otherwise.
And of course, they both had Death Eater duties to attend to. When one didn't come home, the other always knew where their spouse was...out committing some heinous crime or another. Not exactly a warm and fuzzy feeling that, but there was nothing they could do about it.
They still spent time with Draco, of course, but after much debate and discussion, they finally decided that they had better keep their marriage as secret from him as the others. It seemed very ironic to Ron that the only people to know their secret other than the priest that married them were the Dursleys. Rayven wrote Petunia all the time, and Ron found himself constantly pulling letters from Privet Drive out of the Muggle mailbox addressed to Mrs. Rayven Weasley.
Soon, Ron and Rayven became comfortable being married. Even with all the turmoil of war around them, they had resumed a peaceful existence. Voldemort called mercilessly, but the Weasleys took it with the stiff upper lip you'd expect from two undercover spies. They managed to balance Voldemort, the Ministry, their friends and (in Ron's case) family, being married, and happiness.
Who knew that such peace could be shattered?
It was a bright sunny day in the first month of July when they received the owl. It was written in the shaky hand of one in shock, but Ron recognized it as Bill Croaker's.
Ron-come to Ministry.
Well, that was short, sweet, and to the point wasn't it? He called to Rayven, who frowned. "Is it from Bill?"
"I think so..." Ron frowned. "I wonder what's wrong..."
"We won't know if we don't go," Rayven pointed out. Nodding in agreement, Ron apparated to the sight, and heard Rayven do the same next to him.
"Come on," Ron said, gesturing for her to follow him. They marched through the halls and up the stairs, not running into much trouble until they reached the Unspeakable corridor. Frowning, Ron tried to work his way in, but the authorities weren't letting him anywhere.
"Ron!" The voice was that of Draco, who pushed a young someone out of his way. "Rayven! Thank God you two are here."
"What happened?" Rayven asked, her eyes wide with worry.
"Come on in," He said, waving them into the crowded hallway. They slowly progressed through the crowds, stopping at...
"Oh no," Ron muttered, his eyes wide at the sight of yellow tape around the doorway leading into Bill and Dennis's office. Draco beckoned them inside. Ron's first glimpse was not one he much liked; a lot of aurors running around, and Bill, sitting on his desk and staring off into space with wide-eyed shock.
"Bill?" Rayven asked delicately, putting a hand on his shoulder gently. Ron's eyebrows knitted together, distressed over seeing his stouthearted companion in this state.
"He's in there," Bill said dazedly, pointing to the tiny room in which he and Dennis took turns sleeping. With a curious glance at Draco, who was looking at Bill sympathetically, Ron pushed his way inside the room, Rayven at his heels. He stopped abruptly once inside.
"Oh Jesus..." Rayven gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. There, on the ground lie Dennis Bode.
Or rather, his corpse.