Forever is Only Years Away
Chapter 4: Lost and Never Found
She was huffing and puffing after him as he quickly ran up the stairs, doing it deliberately so she would not be able to keep up.
"Can you just--would you just slow down!!" she cried, being almost 2 floors behind him.
"If you're going to work with us you're going to have to keep up with us." Ron snapped, not slowing down one bit.
She glared at him, sweat trickling in between her eyes. "Why can't we just aparate?"
"It's not safe, not here, hence we walk." He said simply, his coat flying behind him as he ran up apparently inhuman.
"Ron!" she cried, trying to get his attention.
It didn't work, she decided on a different tactic.
She screamed. "Help! Ron, help!"
It worked like a charm. He was turning around, running down the stairs faster than the human eye could pick up on. "Hermione!"
He reached her and she was calmly sitting down, stretching her aching legs. Now it was him who was panting, looking around wildly for her attackers.
"Where--"
"I needed a break." said Hermione, her legs now crossed at the knee as she sat on the stairs.
"A break?" Ron asked, almost to the point of outrage. "We don't take breaks, we keep on going. You know, one time I was awake for 356 hours, straight."
"That's horrible!" Hermione cried, livid herself.
"That's the job, that's the way it is, and if you're going to be here, poking and probing then you have to keep up!" Ron cried, grabbing her elbow and pulling her up.
"But I'm tired!" Hermione protested. "We've been running up seven flights of stairs for no apparent reason!"
"I told you I would tell you when we get to the top!" Ron argued back, his cheeks were flushed, goose bumps covering his arms.
"I am not going one more step until you tell me!" It was back to the good old rows they used to have... so long ago.
But this time he could do something about it.
"Fine!" he spat out and without further words, he grabbed her upper legs and hoisted her over his shoulder, fireman style.
"Ron!" Hermione squealed. "Put me down!"
He turned and started jogging up the stairs, with a screaming and pissed off Hermione banging her fist on his back and wriggling madly.
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Dorothy Hugley was a short plump witch in her late seventies who had been working in the council for as long as she could remember or anyone else there for that matter. She'd live trough the good times, the bad times and the years after the bads where they were left to pick up the pieces.
She had always worked in the fling department, but it wasn't until Mr.Weasley (newly appointed) had become prime-minister that she got not only a raise that would permit her to have many more cats, but also the personal assistant to the Prime-Minister's assistant. She was right proud that day and told all of her friends about it.
After so many years of bewitching scrolls and translating parchments from other ministries, she had finally been in the head of her game. Arthur had always been nice to her, greeting her in the morning when he came and bidding her a good evening on his way home. She had loved Molly and had been the only one to offer to take care of the children when Arthur had been overcome with grief. It was true that they were no longer children, but even the twins had appreciated the home-cooked meals she had done for them in those first few months of grieving.
Now the prime-minister was completely dependant on Dorothy. She got him coffee, sorted his mail, gave good advice and always brought in sweets to alleviate a hard day in the office.
All the Weasleys now called her Granny, in an affectionate way and she definitely didn't mind, she didn't mind at all. So when Ginny Weasley aparated next to her very early Tuesday morning her brows knitted in confusion.
"Ginny, sweatheart!" she chided. "You know you shouldn't be aparating carrying that precious bundle of yours!" She carried her plump body to the food cabinet. "Have a seat, I supposed you have yet to have breakfast? Well, you're in luck that I always have salted ham and wheat bread nearby!"
Ginny smiled at her. "Morning, Granny." she kissed her check, affectionately.
The older woman chuckled. "Now, now, child--sit down! Tell me, how is that handsome husband of yours?"
Ginny took the offered piece of salted bacon and with an appetite of two people, munched on it, gingerly. "He has the fifth years at this hour and the next. It's my hour off, thought I'd come down to see father."
Dorothy nodded, already placing the tea kettle on the fire (she lighted it magically, of course). "Poor man has been drowning in papers! They don't give him a moment's peace. I tell him "Arthur, dear, you have to take some time off, visit Ginny and Harry in the country --it'll do you good." she sighed. "But you know he won't."
Ginny looked down sadly at her soft bread. "He has taken a vacation since..."
Dorothy was quick to come next to her, placing her chubby arms around the skinnier Ginny. "There, there, child. No use crying over it now."
Ginny sniffled. (Sentimentality came with being pregnant. The other day she burst out crying because Harry had mentioned he didn't like a set of robes on her-he, of course, had been deeply sorry but she had cried for four hours straight.). "I know, Granny... it's just that... well you know ever since they located Ron... I've tried to have him talk to me but he'll just say he's swamped with raids here and there and he'll talk to me later...."
Dorothy nodded, patting her. "Yes, yes, he's one to avoid that cow puddle, ain't he?"
Ginny turned to the older woman. "Have you heard from him?"
The other woman frowned. "Not that I know... and I know every single thing that happens here."
Ginny sighed. "Is father in?"
Dorothy nodded towards the large oak door. "See if you can dig him out from under the storm of parchment he has in his desk."
Ginny blinked up at her. "He didn't go home last night?"
"No, he was here when I came and informed me that he was too busy to go home last night."
She groaned. "What is he trying to do? Work himself to death?!"
Dorothy finished setting the tea tray and handed it to Ginny. "Here, see if he'll talk to you over a nice warm cuppa."
Ginny took the tray from the woman and smiled. "Thank you, Granny. Who knows what we would've done without you."
Dorothy chuckled as she magicked some of the mess away. "Oh, I figure you would've been just fine... now, where is Radio?"
Ginny left Dorothy to try to find one of her cats (which her father had named) and walked to the prime minister's office.
She knocked on the door.
"Come in, Granny." she heard her father's muffled voice from the other side. She pushed the thick English oak open to reveal one of the messiest rooms in the Ministry of Magic, the prime minister's office. Of course he had his meeting office where he could conduct civilized meetings but this was his personal space (it was covered wall to wall with muggle artifacts).
"Morning, father."
From behind a large pile of old parchments her father's head popped up, his reading glasses were crooked, his nose dirty and his hair on end.
"Ginny!" he stood up and walked to her, taking the tray from her. "You stopped by!" she could hear the nervousness in his voice.
"Since I couldn't make an appointment I decided to crash in." she said lightly, pushing off his desk a dozen parchments to make space for the tray.
She heard him give a nervous giggle. "Yes, well, Ginny, dear I told you I'm am rather swamped and as you can see it is literal!"
She shot him a glare.
"I got an owl from Hermione last night." she quipped. "She's with Ron."
Her father's face went from a nervous smile to a stone-rock glare. "I'm busy, Ginny."
"Yes, I know. You're busy forgetting what happened and hiding under--" she threw more parchments on the floor, kicking them with her foot. "--a big whopping pile of... parchment!"
Arthur signaled to the fallen and kicked parchments. "Those are important, Ginny!"
"And so is your son!" she shot back.
Arthur walked around the dark, biting furiously into a cracker. "This is why I didn't want to meet with you Ginny! You're just like you mother...." His voice faded away, being replaced by a mere whisper.
Ginny walked around the desk, kneeling by her father's chair. "Daddy... it's ok to miss her. I miss her too... everyday." she pleaded. "But you can't keep doing this, it's not right."
He remained unresponsive.
"Mom wouldn't have wanted this." she said quietly. (trying her best to keep bitterness off her voice)
Her father turned to look back at her. "Please leave, Ginny. Leave an old man be."
Her chest rose and fell, tears threatening to break through her strong barrier. She stood up and walked to the door. "I want my child to have grandfather. Mom might've died, Ron might've left us but we still have each other."
She walked out and closed the door behind her.
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He carried her to the very top of the stairs until the chilly wind hit her face, making her eyes water, jumping slightly as the wind went up her robes and cooled her inside and she remembered it--
--it was mid-December on their seventh year when it had happened. It had only been an innocent game of wrestling after Harry and Ginny had already retired.
It started with laughs and giggles and turned into puffing and huffing, and then it turned to right out Weasley Wrestle Mania, hair where being pulled, skin scratched and they both gave as good as they got.
Then he did something that was difference from all of the previous times they had ever touched. His hand landed on her chest... specifically her breast.
He would've pulled it away, and begin his apology but her body's reaction was to hold his hand there with her own, warming the top of his hand with her sweaty palm.
They were both breathing heavily, cheeks flushed when their eyes meet, a question, an inquiry as to what going on. But their mouths seemed to be magnetized because the next thing they remember was lips crushing with each other, panting and above all... touching.
It was touching as they had never ever dared to even dream of before. Their hands were every where at the same time and heat ran through both of them until they thought they would explode from over-emotion.
"Stop, Ron stop," she said.
He instantly paralyzed and pulled complete off her, his eyes wide and glazed, his cheeks where redder than she had ever seen them and his hair stood up on ends because of her own groping of it.
She did a sound that she would never admit sounded very close to a growl. "What? What happened?" she demanded.
He sputtered. "You told me to stop!"
She ran her hand, shakily over her tangled and wild locks. "I did?"
He nodded, trying to catch his breath himself.
She slowly sat up until their noses were almost inches from each other, until she could taste his own breath in her tongue, reminded her of how he tasted.
"Do-do you want to stop?" she asked, almost shyly. It was not as if this was the first snogging session they had, they had been going out for well over a year and kissing was something Ron thought was necessary; like breakfast.
But this was different. This was raw power running from their pores and melting into passion.
Her hand reached to his face, holding it against her forehead.
"Bloody hell," she heard him whisper.
She smiled. "I'll take that as a no."
"Bloody right you will," and then his lips were eating her alive, teeth came into the game and if they bit each other while they kissed it didn't matter because it felt wonderful.
She was moaning against him and without her realizing it she was pressing her chest against his, letting him feel the heat that was floating off her in waves.
"Hermione," he whispered against her and she pissed his neck. "I love you."
She froze and pulled back. They had said so much to each other but never admission of love. The hints had always been the lighting bulbs in the background but never an outright love. She knew deep inside that he loved her, knew this without a doubt but her words were honey to her soul.
"You--you love me?" she whispered back, grabbing his lower lip with her teeth and smiling against his mouth. He sucked in a breath and buried his large hand in her tangled hair.
"Always."
"And ever?" she asked back, kissing him back, secretly melting at the way he massaged the pads of his fingers on her scalp. (something she always had enjoyed)
"No matter what happens," he pulled and gave her that looked that simply united his soul with hers, one that intoxicated her vision and made her gaze, glazy-eyed at him until she were sure she would faint. She could drown in those blue eyes, on any day.
He placed her back down on the floor and strode to the edge of the building, They were in the rooftop, overlooking the muggle city.
"We'll set camp here, I'll start working the invisible barriers." he looked down to the next large house, the mansion was clear and visible from there. "We can see them clearly from here. We'll know exactly when our time to strike will begin."
He looked back at her, his long-ish hair was dancing in the wind and she noticed for the first time all the scars that now resided on his skin.
"Are you listening to me, Hermione?" he asked, coming closer to her.
Her eyes were slightly glazy and she was shivering under her robe.
"Ron?" she paused and licked her lips, her hands clasped slightly in front of her. "Do you remember-"
He gave a loud grown. "Bloody hell! Is this how it's going to be? Every waking moment between us we're going to be reminiscing on time past? Because I'll tell you the truth I truly don't want--"
He was silenced by her hungry mouth taking his, his eyes slightly bulged as she did what she had been waiting to do since she had first seen him.
This was something he could never forget, it was an intricate pattern that smoldered him whole, his hands went around her waist and she was pulled, flushed against his hard body--.
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He woke screaming, his scar hurting like it had not hurt in years.
"Harry?" Ginny shot upright on their canopy bed, the silk bed sheets falling off her pale torso to reveal her swollen belly.
Harry was with his head in his hands, panting and wheezing. She instantly moved behind him, wrapping her arms on him as best as she could.
"Darling, it was a dream," she whispered to him, rubbing her hands over his bare back and pressing kisses on his shoulder blades. "Shh."
After a few minutes and one last shudder Harry pulled his head up and gave her a sideway look. "I had a dream, Ginny. A dream and .... and my scar is burning."
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TBC.....
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