"Do you know how to play Dragon Capture 4, Ron?" Ethan tossed the small CD
case to the elder man, still rummaging through his collection of
videogames. "Your name is Ron, right? S'what my mum called you in the
bookshop. But-she's been quite loopy lately. a bit off her rocker, if you
know what I mean." He shrugged, raising a crimson eyebrow at the stranger.
"But if you want, you know, mum told us to call old people by their last
names, so Mr-"
Ron stared at the game, examining its case. "Er. Ron's fine." He had a feeling that Weasley wouldn't go over too well. He tapped his fingers against the game, laughing some. "You know, my older brother used to work with dragons in Romania," he said matter-of-factly, tossing the game back to Ethan.
Ethan stared at Ron as if he'd grown a second head. "Are you mad? Dragon's don't exist." He popped the game into the Playstation and handed Ron a controller. "Press A to jump, B to attack. All right?" He took a seat on the couch beside Ron.
The older of the two redheads quickly caught onto the game, and soon enough the two were laughing and challenging each other to rematches. After an hour, their fingers were sore from clenching the controls for so long. "All right," Ron said, laughing. "You win. But we'll have another go later."
Ethan smirked. "I always win." A light bulb seemed to go off inside Ethan's head. "Oi! D'you want to play chess?"
"Chess? I haven't played chess in. well, in ten years, at least. But, sure!" Ron was having so much fun with this kid he barely knew.
The younger boy snickered. "Okay, you can be white. I'll let you go first."
"Big mistake, lad." Ron peered over the edge of the chessboard. "Pawn to C- 3!" He announced clearly, and furrowed his brow in confusion when the piece wouldn't move. "Pawn. To. C. 3," he said again, and then looked up at Ethan who was staring at him, looking somewhat afraid.
"Er-you--you have to move them. Um, chess pieces don't--well, they don't have ears." Ethan gulped lightly, crossing his arms over his chest, still staring at Ron oddly. "How do you know my mum?" he queued, biting his lip.
Ron sighed, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. "We were friends growing up," he replied simply. "Schoolmates," he added with a shrug, reaching to his pawn and moving it to C-3 nonchalantly.
Ethan stood, glaring lightly. "Mum told us she went to a private school for girls only in London." He paused, tiny blue eyes set on identical larger ones across from him. "You're sure she'll be all right?"
A wince escaped Ron and he shifted again on the couch. "Yes. Yes, she'll be fine." He stood, reaching for his coat. "I should probably go. I was going to wait for your mum to wake, but I'm not so sure she'd want to speak to me after all."
"Wait!" Charlotte scampered down the steps, braided plait long and ginger down her back. "Mum's awake. She wants to talk to you." She cast an apprehensive look at Ethan and joined him on the couch as Ron ascended the stairs.
He reached the doorway and knocked a few times before peering in. "Hermione?" he said rather shakily, leaning against the doorframe.
"Come in, Ron," she whispered, and he moved to stand at her bedside. Chocolate eyes gazed up to him, and she took an unsteady breath. "You're, oh, Ron-You can't be!" A choked sob escaped her and her hands flew to her mouth.
"Shhh," he whispered, sitting down on the edge of her bed and placing a hand on her knee. "Hermione, it's okay. I'm here."
Tears were streaming down her face by now, too exhausted to interrogate him. "You're d-dead!" She cried, leaning forward to bury her face in his shoulder. "Oh, Ron! It's-it's impossible!" She stammered, body wracking with sobs.
Ron's own tears fell silently, wrapping his strong arms around her, holding her close. "I'm not dead, 'Mione," he rasped, knowing he owed her quite the explanation. "When Harry was-" He gulped, running his hands over her back soothingly. "-killed," he continued, barely able to get the words out. After ten years the pain was still fresh. "Lucius Malfoy kept me alive. He wanted to prove he had some sort of sick power over my father, keeping me as his servant. He kept knocking me with Imperius curses, and for years I was his fucking slave," he said bitterly.
"Oh, Ron!" Hermione sniffled, "I'm so sorry! I should have-"
"There's nothing you could've done," he whispered. "When Moody found out Lucius had some sort of underground network of Death Eaters, he found me and got me out. My mind was nearly scorched from the curses, though. It took him two years to restore my memory."
"But you're back? I mean, you don't have to go and fight since the network was destroyed, right? It was in the news. I still subscribe to the Daily Prophet, though the children-" She broke off, pulling back lightly to look into his eyes. "The children! They-they have their father back!" She threw her arms around his neck, and he pulled her into his lap, rocking her gently.
"You haven't told them, Hermione? About Hogwarts? About-us?" He ran his fingers through her curly mane, giving a sigh.
"No. Oh, Ron. I couldn't. It hurt too much. They're going to get their letters in a few weeks, and I still haven't told them. I'm a horrible mother, I know. I just-couldn't-"
"Bloody hell, Hermione. Don't you ever say that again," he tilted his head back to look at her again, his gaze set on hers as he tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "You raised those children beautifully. Oh, 'Mione, they're amazing. Both of them. All because of you." He smiled. "And Charlotte, oi, she's your bloody clone, that's what she is." He snickered.
"And Ethan's the spitting image of you, nasty temper and all. He has a heart of gold though, just like his daddy," she whispered, silent tears spilling down her cheeks. Her trembling hand reached up to caress his stubbly cheek and she smiled wider than she had in years. "I've missed you so much, Ron," she rasped, running her free hand through his crimson locks.
He felt his heart swell for her, and he slowly bent his head, their lips merely centimeters apart when-
"Ahem." Young Ethan's voice caused the two of them to jump apart, blushing wildly as if they were seventeen again. He stood in the doorframe with his sister, both of them crossing their arms accusingly.
Charlotte gazed anxiously between her brother, her mother, and Ron. "So, do we get an explanation or what?"
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Ron stared at the game, examining its case. "Er. Ron's fine." He had a feeling that Weasley wouldn't go over too well. He tapped his fingers against the game, laughing some. "You know, my older brother used to work with dragons in Romania," he said matter-of-factly, tossing the game back to Ethan.
Ethan stared at Ron as if he'd grown a second head. "Are you mad? Dragon's don't exist." He popped the game into the Playstation and handed Ron a controller. "Press A to jump, B to attack. All right?" He took a seat on the couch beside Ron.
The older of the two redheads quickly caught onto the game, and soon enough the two were laughing and challenging each other to rematches. After an hour, their fingers were sore from clenching the controls for so long. "All right," Ron said, laughing. "You win. But we'll have another go later."
Ethan smirked. "I always win." A light bulb seemed to go off inside Ethan's head. "Oi! D'you want to play chess?"
"Chess? I haven't played chess in. well, in ten years, at least. But, sure!" Ron was having so much fun with this kid he barely knew.
The younger boy snickered. "Okay, you can be white. I'll let you go first."
"Big mistake, lad." Ron peered over the edge of the chessboard. "Pawn to C- 3!" He announced clearly, and furrowed his brow in confusion when the piece wouldn't move. "Pawn. To. C. 3," he said again, and then looked up at Ethan who was staring at him, looking somewhat afraid.
"Er-you--you have to move them. Um, chess pieces don't--well, they don't have ears." Ethan gulped lightly, crossing his arms over his chest, still staring at Ron oddly. "How do you know my mum?" he queued, biting his lip.
Ron sighed, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. "We were friends growing up," he replied simply. "Schoolmates," he added with a shrug, reaching to his pawn and moving it to C-3 nonchalantly.
Ethan stood, glaring lightly. "Mum told us she went to a private school for girls only in London." He paused, tiny blue eyes set on identical larger ones across from him. "You're sure she'll be all right?"
A wince escaped Ron and he shifted again on the couch. "Yes. Yes, she'll be fine." He stood, reaching for his coat. "I should probably go. I was going to wait for your mum to wake, but I'm not so sure she'd want to speak to me after all."
"Wait!" Charlotte scampered down the steps, braided plait long and ginger down her back. "Mum's awake. She wants to talk to you." She cast an apprehensive look at Ethan and joined him on the couch as Ron ascended the stairs.
He reached the doorway and knocked a few times before peering in. "Hermione?" he said rather shakily, leaning against the doorframe.
"Come in, Ron," she whispered, and he moved to stand at her bedside. Chocolate eyes gazed up to him, and she took an unsteady breath. "You're, oh, Ron-You can't be!" A choked sob escaped her and her hands flew to her mouth.
"Shhh," he whispered, sitting down on the edge of her bed and placing a hand on her knee. "Hermione, it's okay. I'm here."
Tears were streaming down her face by now, too exhausted to interrogate him. "You're d-dead!" She cried, leaning forward to bury her face in his shoulder. "Oh, Ron! It's-it's impossible!" She stammered, body wracking with sobs.
Ron's own tears fell silently, wrapping his strong arms around her, holding her close. "I'm not dead, 'Mione," he rasped, knowing he owed her quite the explanation. "When Harry was-" He gulped, running his hands over her back soothingly. "-killed," he continued, barely able to get the words out. After ten years the pain was still fresh. "Lucius Malfoy kept me alive. He wanted to prove he had some sort of sick power over my father, keeping me as his servant. He kept knocking me with Imperius curses, and for years I was his fucking slave," he said bitterly.
"Oh, Ron!" Hermione sniffled, "I'm so sorry! I should have-"
"There's nothing you could've done," he whispered. "When Moody found out Lucius had some sort of underground network of Death Eaters, he found me and got me out. My mind was nearly scorched from the curses, though. It took him two years to restore my memory."
"But you're back? I mean, you don't have to go and fight since the network was destroyed, right? It was in the news. I still subscribe to the Daily Prophet, though the children-" She broke off, pulling back lightly to look into his eyes. "The children! They-they have their father back!" She threw her arms around his neck, and he pulled her into his lap, rocking her gently.
"You haven't told them, Hermione? About Hogwarts? About-us?" He ran his fingers through her curly mane, giving a sigh.
"No. Oh, Ron. I couldn't. It hurt too much. They're going to get their letters in a few weeks, and I still haven't told them. I'm a horrible mother, I know. I just-couldn't-"
"Bloody hell, Hermione. Don't you ever say that again," he tilted his head back to look at her again, his gaze set on hers as he tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "You raised those children beautifully. Oh, 'Mione, they're amazing. Both of them. All because of you." He smiled. "And Charlotte, oi, she's your bloody clone, that's what she is." He snickered.
"And Ethan's the spitting image of you, nasty temper and all. He has a heart of gold though, just like his daddy," she whispered, silent tears spilling down her cheeks. Her trembling hand reached up to caress his stubbly cheek and she smiled wider than she had in years. "I've missed you so much, Ron," she rasped, running her free hand through his crimson locks.
He felt his heart swell for her, and he slowly bent his head, their lips merely centimeters apart when-
"Ahem." Young Ethan's voice caused the two of them to jump apart, blushing wildly as if they were seventeen again. He stood in the doorframe with his sister, both of them crossing their arms accusingly.
Charlotte gazed anxiously between her brother, her mother, and Ron. "So, do we get an explanation or what?"
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