Author's Note: I sincerely and deeply apologize for the long delay in this chapter. All I have to say is: (a) Don't rush your muse, and (b) death to homework!!! Sometimes, being responsible and prioritising things really sucks.
Disclaimer: I think that you get it by now. I don't own Harry Potter. I never will. I make no money from this, and actually, I pay money for it. The time I spend on AOL costs a monthly bill, correct? And uploading takes time on the Internet, AOL. So, logically, uploading costs me money.
Chapter X: A New Lease on Life
Bleep… bleep… bleep…I awoke to the somewhat soothing, but mostly annoying, sound in my ear. What had happened? I remembered running outside… I remembered the hot smell of whiskey on the assailant's breath as I tackled him to the ground in white-hot rage… I remembered hearing countless voices shouting a curse at me…
I sat up with a start, and bared my teeth in pain as all of my muscles contracted, shooting pain throughout my body. I tried to relax and layback down, feeling a soft, cool hand on my forehead.
"Shhh… be still, Darling, just relax."
I opened my eyes to meet the two pools of chocolate brown that I could get lost in.
"You're beautiful," I told her.
She smiled slightly, and I saw tears swimming in her eyes. She laid her head lightly on my chest. Automatically, my hand reached up to stroke her hair. Automatically, my mouth formed a stupid grin. It was amazing that she could still have that affect on me. I loved being close to her.
"You scared me, Ron. I don't know what I would have done… If Harry hadn't been there, I- I… Oh!" She sat up, a little too quickly for my liking. "You probably want a drink, don't you?" She turned and poured a glass of water as I carefully sat up. She handed me the glass, all while fluffing the pillows behind me, pulling up a chair, and pouring a glass for herself. "Look at me," she said, wiping the stray tears. "Blubbering like an idiot while you're the one in the hospital bed." She laughed nervously and flipped a rogue curl behind her ear.
"Everyone's out in the waiting room," she said, trying to fill the silence. "They all came right over, no questions asked. I was the only one allowed in here, though."
I sat the empty glass on the bedside table, and took her hands.
"Hermione," I began. She knew what I was going to ask, and sure didn't want to talk about it. "What happened?"
She lowered her gaze, and said, "I… well, I'm not really sure; I didn't see it happen. When you and Harry ran, I was directing the forensics team; but-" she stopped to sniffle- "Harry said that as he was running outside, you were ripping into that bloke pretty bad, completely tooth and nail. No one can find your wand; they've been looking. Anyway, Harry had just barely gotten there when fifteen or so men apparated in. They all hit you with the Cruciatus curse and disapparate before Harry could even think of a curse. And now you're here."
"No one else was hurt?"
"No," she said, "But Emily's a wreck. She thinks that it's all her fault. You need to talk to her; she doesn't really want to listen to me."
"Is she here? Send her in."
Hermione shook her head. "It's late; I told her that you would be fine and sent her back to school an hour ago. I'll bring her by tomorrow, though."
I nodded, and grinned as she brushed her soft lips against my forehead, and she crawled up on the bed beside me, resting her head against my chest.
"When are they letting me out of here?" I asked her.
"Tomorrow night," she said, snuggling closer. I tightened my arms around her.
"What if I were to sneak out?"
She would have bolted upright, had my arms not been clasped around her. "Why?" she asked, trying to sound casual, despite being ready to scold me.
I readjusted my position, and said, "Knowing Emily, she won't sleep all night until she sees me. You know how she is, Mione. She won't be able to concentrate tomorrow, she'll be tired, probably make herself sick from worrying. And then there's Landon. He'll take it upon himself to convince her that she didn't do a thing, and run himself raw doing it. I know that you were just trying to get things back to normal, but I really want to see them. I want her to know-"
I stopped abruptly, as a thought entered into my mind.
"What did you find on that thing?"
"That thing?" Hermione asked, raising her eyes in amusement. "'Thing' covers a rather broad area, Ro-"
"That… thing that he shot at Emily. What did you find on it?"
"I haven't been allowed in to see. Ron, I have to tell you something."
"Come on then," I said, pushing back the covers as I pulled off my T-shirt in exchange for a blue button down. "We've got work to do."
"Ron, really, you shouldn't- I… I have to tell you something."
"Well it can wait, can't it? Come on, Hermione, why are you just sitting there?" I pulled a pair of navy trousers on, took my watch and wedding ring from the bedside table, slipped my shoes on, and started for the door.
"It can't wait, Ron."
"Well, what is it, then?"
"The Ministry… the Cabinet voted, and… they've decided that…"
"Decided that what, Hermione?"
"They've forbidden me from working further on the case."
Emily…"Hey," said a familiar voice from behind me. "It's going to be OK." A pair of brotherly arms encircled me, and I finally let loose the dam of tears that had been threatening to spill since this afternoon. I didn't cry at the hospital. I didn't cry when we came back. I didn't cry when I sat on the window seat, staring at the painting of Dad and I that I had only recently completed.
"You don't always have to be the strong one," Landon whispered to me. If that was supposed to help, then he certainly should not go into psychiatry. I only sobbed harder. I don't know how long I sat, sobbing into my big brother's chest, but it seemed like an eternity.
"Landon?" came a voice. "Landon, are you down here?" I looked up and wiped my tears to look into my big brother's face. I saw that his eyes were red as he tried to wipe away the trails of tears that streaked his cheeks as well. He was scared, too.
Charlotte descended the steps, crossing her arms around her dressing gown. She smiled faintly at me. "D'you wanna come sleep in my room tonight?"
I nodded.
"There's no extra beds," she said carefully.
"Tha's OK," I said, sniffling.
"Emily," Landon said, "You really should go to bed now. You've got to go to classes tomorrow. Worrying won't help anything."
"I won't be able to concentrate tomorrow, Landon; why do I have to go to class?" I whined, the long day evident in my voice.
"Because Mum said. Now go to bed and try not to think about it, OK?"
"Try not to think about it? Dad could have died tonight, Landon, and it would have been all my-"
"Don't even say it," he said, throwing up his hands. "Dad's getting hurt has nothing to do with you, Emily. Stop being a martyr!"
I could have slapped him. Had I not felt like I had just been slapped in the face, I would have slapped him.
"Thanks, Landon," I said, trying to keep my voice under control, "Because that makes me feel a lot better!"
Charlotte, ever the moderator, took my arm. "Come on, Emily, you really need some rest. Let's go to sleep, all right?" I was too tired to fight back, so I let myself be led up to the seventh years dormitory. Charlotte pulled an extra pillow out of the large armoire in the corner, and placed it on her bed before climbing in. She scooted over as I pulled the covers up to my neck. I let out a shuddering sigh, trying to keep back tears. I knew that I'd end up crying and drew the bed curtains, to muffle the sound.
In the dark, I heard a voice. "Hey, Em?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't get mad, OK? But… I think that Landon… I think that he was sort of right. About what he said. I mean, you shouldn't let yourself be a martyr. That's only what he… that's only what he wants, you know? If you let him get to you- if you let him get inside your head- then he's already won… Emily? Are you awake?"
I couldn't even answer. I just closed my eyes, letting the tears slowly fall.
Landon looked a mess the next morning. His hair wasn't brushed, he'd forgotten his Head Boy badge, copper collared stubble was covering his jaw, his clothes were crumpled, and there were bags under his bloodshot eyes. But then again, I can't say that I looked much better. I'd pulled my un-brushed hair into a ponytail and wore yesterday's robes, so I wouldn't have to go face the girls in my dormitory. We Weasleys rise to the occasion. I sat next to him at breakfast, neither of us talking.
Nothing needed to be said.
Ron…
"Dad!" Jack ran into my room the next morning, leaping on to the bed and throwing his arms around my neck. I held him tight, being schmaltzy and sentimental, thinking of how I'd almost missed the chance to ever hug my son again. "Dad," he said, pulling back, "Guess what? At school today, we're going to see a real live auror! I told everyone in my class that my dad was the coolest auror ever, even better than Phillip's dad. Phillip's dad is coming to talk to us today, he's a real live auror! But you're way better, Dad, way better. He doesn't even have any of those sticker things on his uniform!"
"Ranks?" I prompted, smiling at his enthusiasm.
"Yep, he doesn't have any ranks. 'Cause he's not as cool as you, Dad."
"Come on, Jack," said Hermione, striding into the room. "You'll see Daddy later tonight; you're going to be late to school."
"Aw, Mum, do I have to?"
She gave him one of those looks that could stop the sun, and he sighed.
"Say goodbye to Daddy."
"Bye, Dad!" He said, hopping off the bed. "I'll tell Mr. Phillip's Dad just how cool you are, and how you're way better. Don't worry, Dad, I'll tell him!" Jack marched proudly out of the room, carrying a bag that was nearly twice his size, probably filled with Quidditch action figures. Hermione winked at me.
"Be back later," she said, before being pulled out of the room by Jack ("Come on, Mum! A real live auror!")
Hermione was back in fifteen minutes, announcing that she had taken the day off from work. Once again, I pulled back the covers, allowing her to get into the bed beside me. Immediately I was filled with that irresistible warmth that came whenever she was near. I could have laid like that forever, her in my arms, but that nagging feeling was back again.
"Hermione," I said gently.
"No, Ron."
"You know that you have to, Mione. If you let this go, it's going to sit on the desk of some fat and lazy MADD official's desk. If you let this go," I continued as she sat up to stare at me. "If you let this go we could lose Emily." I hadn't expected a lump to rise in my throat, and when I spoke again, my voice was shaking. "We can't take the chance that this will just go away, Hermione. She was nearly killed last night. My daughter will not be killed because some cabinet says that I'm not allowed to protect her anymore. She's just a child, no matter how she may act or what she may think. No one is going to hurt my little girl, Hermione; screw the Ministry."
That's the beauty of love: you can completely break down in front of your wife and know that she feels exactly the same way that you do.
She threw her arms around me, sobbing into my neck. "I just can't do it, Ron," she said. But then she did something curious, just as I felt my temper rising. "Shhh- they're probably listening, or watching… maybe both. We're not safe."
"Shhh! Will you be quiet? They'll hear us!"
"Sorry…"
"That was my foot!"
"Sorry… you know what they say about big fe-"
"Shhh!"
"Sorry."
"They need to make a roomier model…"
"Or you just need to shut up. Oh, we could get in so much trouble…"
"Calm down."
"Is it this door?"
"Next one on the left."
"Careful- it creeks."
"Alohomora!"Hermione darted out from underneath the invisibility cloak, shutting, locking and placing a silencing charm on the door. Quickly she led us down a spiral staircase, quiet not to make any noise with her heels on the metal. We entered a dank, dimly lit, besmirched, low-ceilinged room that looked like it needed a good scrubbing. The linoleum floors were slippery with dust, the paint on the walls had faded from lack of attention, and cobwebs adorned the corners.
"This is the best laboratory we have?" Harry asked, brushing away a cobweb that he had just walked through.
Hermione smiled wickedly. "There's more to this room than meets the eye." Apparently, that statement doubled as a password, and what appeared to be a rusted shut file drawer disappeared, revealing a small hole in the wall. Slowly, it expanded to form an archway, big enough for us to walk through (though not with Harry and I stooping a little).
The room opened up to a high tech lab, more so than even the ones that Harry and I had been permitted in. Hermione walked in briskly and over to a file cabinet, cross-referencing Fitzgerald and Weasley until she found the folder that she was looking for. She flipped through until she found the Halloween incident, as it was pretty definite that the cases had been linked, and scanned the page until she found the list of evidence found. She tapped her wand on the page and walked over to one table containing a magically enhanced microscope that could magnify down to the atom. No sooner had Harry and I followed her over than the dart aimed at our daughter was suspended in midair. Hermione slipped on a pair of latex gloves before picking up the piece of evidence.
"Will you two track down that suspect list for me?" she asked, picking up a magnifying glass.
As Harry and I tried to sort our way through the long suspect lists, Hermione continued examining the evidence. It wasn't long before we had found everything that we were looking for- it also wasn't long before we were interrupted.
"Oh, excuse me," said a deep voice from behind us. Harry and I dropped what we were doing, instantly whirling around, wands out, standing in between Hermione and this man. "I'm sorry," he said, "I was just doing my night rounds." Upon closer observation, we found that this man was a security guard. "I apologize, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter." Harry and I nodded to him.
"No problem, Mr.…" Harry faltered, his eyes scanning for a badge or identification.
"Jones," the man supplied, holding out his hand. "Telemachus Jones."
"Mr. Jones," I said, now shaking his hand, and slipping him a galleon or two. "See that no one disturbs us again." I held his hand a millisecond longer than necessary, showing him that I meant business.
He nodded. "Yes, sir. Have a nice night." He smiled a little, and it was a very disturbing smile. One that I had seen before. There was something in his smile that didn't reach his eyes- emotionless eyes.
When we heard the door shut, I turned to Harry. "I have a bad feeling about that man."
"I've seen him somewhere."
"How did he know that we were here? I didn't even know about this place; it certainly can't be in a security guards' night rounds."
"And more importantly," said Harry, "How did he get in here? There are hundreds of locking and unlocking spells. How did he know the specific counter-spell?"
"Do you think he was following us?"
"Impossible, we were under the invisibility cloak."
"Harry…" said Hermione softly.
"In a minute," he told her, before turning back to me. "Maybe it is just a coincidence. Ron, track down the security guards and their rounds."
"Harry…"
"Hold on, Hermione. See if you can find a 'Jones' on the security list at all. There's something about that man. No ID… he just gives me a bad feeling."
"Right," I said, turning.
"Harry!"
"What?" He asked, frustrated, turning to her finally. But when he did, his eyes widened. She was ghostly white, her eyes wide, and her hand trembling.
"Come look at this," she said, her voice deathly afraid. "Come look at this and tell me that I'm not going crazy. Tell me that you see it, too. Or tell me that I am crazy, I'd rather be crazy and wrong that sane and right. Tell me you see it, Harry, and tell me what to do."
Oh no…I thought. When she doesn't make any sense, she's either figured something out or something serious has gone wrong.
"Track down that payroll for me, Ron," Harry said, crossing to where Hermione was. He took off his glasses, sliding the weapon under the lens of the microscope. He took a minute to focus and neither of us moved. But when he stood up, his mouth was open slightly, and he was wearing a look identical to Hermione's.
"What is it?" I asked, payroll forgotten.
"What are we going to do, Harry?" asked Hermione, ignoring me.
"I… I don't know. But we're in over our heads."
"What's going on?" I asked again, confused.
"We can't ask for help," Hermione reasoned, "We're not supposed to be here in the first place. They'll throw us in Azkaban."
"I… I don't know what to do," said Harry, putting his glasses back on, and running a hand through his dishevelled hair. "I just don't know."
"What is it?" I demanded, pushing by the two of them and peering for myself into the microscope. I focused slightly, and all I saw was six fine lines engraved in the metal- crossing each other and shooting off from the ends. I was confused, but I had seen this before.
"Hermione, what is this?"
She swallowed hard. "Are you sure that you want to hear?"
A/N: Hey guys, that was fun. I love cliffhangers. Sorry, again, that this took so long. Just a little bit of a warning, this will be getting more intense in the future chapters. Have fun, though!