Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the song. You all know who good ole Harry belongs to, and I do mention who owns the song. I don't want to say it now. That'll ruin the surprise.
Author's Note: Okay, I'm super sorry that it took soooo long to update. I had mega trouble with this chapter. Ron wouldn't tell me what he was doing and then The Wolves wouldn't tell me what song they would sing and AAHH!! It was ssoo much trouble. But here it is. I've got a pretty good idea for the rest of the story but there may a long wait between this chapter and the next one. Not as long as the wait between 4 and 5 but pretty long, since I haven't even started writing it yet. Just hang on and it'll come eventually. In the meantime, enjoy this chapter!!
Chapter 5: The MaulingRon sat outside of Florean Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlour, eating a sundae, and watching passer-by's through the lenses of his sunglasses. It wasn't really bright enough for them but he didn't want to be recognized. I've had enough publicity after yesterday's article, he thought. The last thing I need right now is a crowd of giddy little teenage witches throwing themselves at me. I really sympathize with Harry.
He thought about his best friend. Harry had always tried to stay out of the spotlight and it seemed that as an adult he had partially succeeded. Harry now enjoyed a cushy, desk job in the Ministry of Magic's Auror Department. The-Boy-Who-Lived had grown up to be The-Man-Who-Shuffled-Papers. His job consisted of sorting through the missions and assigning them to the Aurors. Harry had been one himself, but he had moved up quickly. He had been the Head Auror for two years, when the last Head had retired. Harry lived a peaceful life now. He didn't get swarmed in the streets anymore. Ron missed that feeling.
He found it ironic that he had wanted Harry's fame when they were at Hogwarts, but now that he was famous and Harry wasn't in the spotlight, Ron longed for Harry's relative anonymity.
Ron looked at the crowded streets of Diagon Alley and saw a group of teenage girls exiting Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Ron was turning back to his sundae when he heard a scream. He turned to the noise and saw one of the girls with her hand over her mouth and the other pointing at him.
"Good Lord, it's Ron Weasley!" she yelled.
Bloody hell, thought Ron. He got up quickly, but the mob of screaming girls had already swarmed him. They were all screaming and holding things out for him.
"Can you sign my hat, Ron?"
"Ron! Can you sign my Wolves CD?"
"Here's my number Ron! Call me!"
"Ron! I love you!"
"Ron! Marry me!
"Ron! Can you sign my Hogsmeade permission slip?"
"Can I have your sunglasses, Ron?"
Ron was utterly overwhelmed. He had no idea where to go or how to get rid of these girls. He would have apparated but the girls were hanging off him and he couldn't risk bringing one of them with him. He was at the end of his rope when he heard a familiar, comforting voice.
"Oi! You there! Clear off! Yer suffocatin' him. Give the poor man some breathin' room."
The girls stopped screaming and calmed down somewhat as the towering bulk waded through them.
"Hagrid!" Ron cried, very relieved.
"Come on, Ron. Let's get away from these fans o' yours."
Ron followed his old friend closely and looked back at the girls. They looked slightly confused and definitely disappointed. Ron sighed. He'd never get used to the fans.
"How are yeh, Ron?" Hagrid asked whilst they walked.
"Oh, er, I'm fine. Apart from being mauled by teenage girls, that is."
Hagrid laughed. "Well, yer career certainly is doin' well."
"Yes, very well. What about you, Hagrid? What's new with you?"
"Oh, yeh know. Same as usual. Teachin' classes, doin' things fer Dumbledore."
They chatted and caught up over a pint at The Leaky Cauldron. Hagrid happened to be in London on an errand for Dumbledore and he was just picking up flesh-eating slug repellent for the school pumpkins.
Throughout their conversation, Ron noticed Hagrid casting odd glanced at him when Hagrid thought Ron wasn't watching.
"Hagrid," Ron said hesitantly. "You don't get the Daily Prophet, do you?"
"Er…Yes, I do," the half-giant said nervously.
"Then, for the love of Quidditch, ask your question and get on with it!" Ron exclaimed.
"Well, I, er, wanted to know if it was, er, true."
"The article about 'Mione?" Ron said, shoulders slumping.
Hagrid nodded.
Ron sighed. Everything always came back to her.
"Yes, it's true, Hagrid. I still love her and Lavender's going to look for her. Is that all?"
"I suppose. Would yeh like ter talk about it?"
"No thanks, Hagrid." Ron glanced at the clock on the wall. It was five to one.
"Bloody hell!" Ron cried. "I've got to go, Hagrid. My band practice starts in five minutes. I'll see you around."
"Owl me later, Ron. I'd like ter see yeh and Harry again."
"Sure thing, Hagrid. Bye."
With that Ron rushed out of the Leaky Cauldron to a safe apparating point. When it was his turn he apparated to Vampire Records, the label he was signed under. He walked through the doors into the lobby. He nodded to the young secretary, who giggled and blushed (though Ron didn't notice), before moving to the far end of the room. He looked at the row of doors and found the one for the rehearsal studio. He opened the door and stepped over the threshold. He walked down the hall and looked out the window. The people looked like ants from the fifteenth floor. Ron liked Portdoors better than those Muggle esclimators, or whatever they were called. Like portkeys, Portdoors, transported the person to the place they wanted to go, in this case the fifteenth floor of Vampire Records. They were faster than esclimators and didn't involve standing in a box that hung from a few wires. He shook his head to regain some focus and quickly made his way into The Wolves' studio.
"Hey guys!" he called as he opened the door.
"You're late, mate," Seamus said.
"Sorry, I got mauled by screaming fans. Then I ran into Hagrid. We got to talking and I lost track of the time," he explained.
"I wish I had that problem," Brian said. "Being mauled by a bunch of girls. That would be amazing."
"It's not as great as you'd think," Ron replied with a wry smile. "Let's just get on with rehearsal."
The other three nodded and got into position. They put their headphones on and after a quick tune up Ron nodded to Jacob, their sound guy. The Wolves always recorded their practices, just in case they did something perfect. Which didn't happen that often, but better to be safe than sorry.
"What should we start with?" Sarah asked into her microphone. The question repeated itself in their headphones.
"Why don't we try that country song we've been working on?" Seamus asked.
"Good idea," Brian said. Sarah nodded and Ron shrugged his shoulders.
"Whatever."
Brian counted them in and everyone played their parts. Ron sang the first line perfectly before stopping.
"Sorry guys. I can't do this one today. It's just a little too depressing. How about we do something louder? Maybe where I get to yell?"
"Sure, Ron," Sarah said. "Whatever you say. You're the lead singer." They'd all seen the article and they understood he had some frustration to get out.
"What song, then, Ron?" Brian asked.
"Er, how about…Somewhere Out There? You know, our new Our Lady Peace cover?"
"Yeah sure, mate. Sounds good," Seamus said.
This time when Brian counted Ron was really into the song. He put all his emotions into the words. He even changed one or two of the words so they applied more to him.
"Last
time I talked to you,
You were lonely and out of place.
You were looking down on me,
Lost out in space.
Laid underneath the stars,
Strung out and feeling brave.
Watch the red orange glow,
Watch them float away.
Down here in the atmosphere,
Garbage and city lights,
You've gone to save your tired soul,
You've gone to save our lives.
You turned on the radio,
To find me on satellite,
I'm waiting for the sky to fall,
I'm waiting for a sign.
All we are
Is all so far.
You're falling
back to me,
The star that I can't see.
I know you're out there,
Somewhere out there.
You're falling
out of reach,
Defying gravity,
I know you're out there,
Somewhere out there.
Hope you remember me,
When you're homesick and need a change.
I miss your curly hair,
I miss the way you taste.
I know you'll come back someday,
On a bed of nails I'll wait.
I'm praying that you don't burn out,
Or fade away.
All we are
Is all so far
You're falling
back to me,
The star that I can't see.
I know you're out there,
Somewhere out there.
You're falling
out of reach,
Defying gravity,
I know you're out there,
Somewhere out there.
You're falling back to me,
The star that I can't see.
I know you're out there.
Oh, you're falling out of reach,
defying gravity....
I know you're out there,
Somewhere out there.
You're falling back to me,
The star that I can't see.
I know you're out there,
Somewhere out there.
You're falling out of reach,
Defying gravity, yeah,
I know you're out there,
Somewhere out there.
You're falling back to me.
Well I know,
I know.
You're falling out of reach.
I know..."
As the music faded, they all realized that they'd done it perfectly. They stood a while in silence before Ron signalled for Jacob to cut sound. Once he did, they all took off their headphones. Sarah grinned.
"Guys, I think that was the one."
"Yeah, Sar. It was," Ron said, smiling weakly.
She didn't take offence at his lack of enthusiasm. Ron was always like that after a particularly emotional song. After a few minutes, Jacob's voice came on over the intercom.
"Alright, guys. I'm ready for the next one."
Ron nodded and they all put their headphones on again.
~*~*~*~*~
They ran through their other songs and two hours later they emerged from the rehearsal studio.
"Bloody hell, my fingers hurt," Seamus complained jokingly.
"Oh stop you whinging, Finnigan. Everyone's fingers hurt," Sarah said.
"Well, my wrists hurt," Brian countered.
Ron chuckled weakly at their antics.
"I'll see you later, guys. I'm going home. Coming, Seamus?"
"Nah, I've got a date with Lavender. We'll see you tonight."
Ron shuddered at what he would see if they did see him. "I hope not. Last time I had nightmares for a week. I think you emotionally scared me for life. I didn't even know girls could bend like that."
Seamus turned red, as the rest of the band laughed. "Oi! Shut it, you!"
Ron laughed a little. "I'll see you tomorrow, Seamus. Bye, Sar. Bye, Brian."
With that he walked out of Vampire Records and apparated home. He made himself an early dinner and watched a little T.V. Seamus refused to live without it so they had one in the sitting room. Their flat was a strange collection of Muggle and Wizarding things due to Seamus and Lavender's half Muggle upbringing. Ron tried to enjoy a rerun of some American show, The Simpsons or something. The comedy just didn't get him, though.
After he cleaned up his plates, he went to his room and flopped down on the bed. As he stared at the ceiling, Hermione's face materialized in his mind's eye. He closed his eyes and sighed. Why won't you get out of my head? he thought.
Because you love me, Ron. You'll always love me, a voice in his head replied. It was his conscience and it sounded just like Hermione.
Great. Now my own thoughts sound like her.
Ron sighed again and wondered where she was and what she was doing. Had she seen the article? Did she care? But most of all he wondered, is she thinking about me like I'm thinking about her?
Author's Note 2: So how did you guys like it? Good? Not good? Tell me in a review. Anyway, as I said there may be a longish wait for the next chapter but on the bright side (get ready for the shameless plug), Evelyn Malone and the San Grasal is coming along splendidly. I also finished Love Runs Its Course. It's a good four chapters. Not much action, mostly romance/drama-ish type stuff. I'm working on about twenty million stories right now so please don't get too impatient. There will be updates for everything. No worries. Tah tah for now, dahlings! XOXO