Chapter Eleven: Memories and Answers
Hermione was furious with herself. How could she argue with Ron right after they'd started to really get along? She stomped around in the house cleaning up all of Destin's messes. She became annoyed quickly because she felt hot and sticky and her hair kept falling in her face. She had an armful of Destin's toys and clothes from the living room. Why bother pretending everything is so normal when it's not?
Dropping the load into Destin's new toy room, still incomplete (needing paint), she slid on sandals and went outside. The cool breeze kissed her body. Her light blue faded jeans, which felt too tight and uncomfortable only seconds before, were now loosely hanging off her hips after a days worn. Same thing seemed to have happened to her elastic black tank top, which no longer wanting to inch up on her curves. She let her feet carry her to an undecided destination. Though in years to follow she'd wonder if she was unconsciously leading to that oh-so-horrible part of her past. Perhaps she had never really forgotten or forgiven Ron at that point. Maybe, just maybe, she had needed to relive that terrible memory that had been deliberately hidden for seven years.
She had walked a fair distance before reaching the top of the hill to the small paddock. It was after she walked through the thick patch of trees before she realized where exactly her "feet" had taken her. Her first memory wasn't the worst; it was wonderful. Closing her eyes she breathed deeply. When she opened them she saw one of her best memories. There was a teenage girl reading in the middle of the paddock. Sprawled out on her stomach, she was concentrating hard on a book. It was late, almost eleven, but the mood supplied a silver reading light. A tall, skinny boy emerged from the threes bossily, yet she hadn't appeared to notice. The boy admired her from afar.
Suddenly Ron's voice cut through the air. "You're so into that book you didn't even hear me coming. If someone ever wanted to kill you, it'd be easy enough."
She didn't look up. "Don't be a fool. I heard someone leave the Burrow five minutes ago. You shouldn't shut the door so loudly if you're wanting to practice in secret."
He tried to hid his broom. "I only followed you." She looked up, eyebrows raised. "Why can't you read in Gin's room 'Mione?"
"It's Hermione, and its . . . she wanted alone time," she quickly adverted her eyes back to her book. Ron wasn't supposed to know about Gin's current boyfriend.
Ron set down his broom and went over to Mione, sitting cross-legged beside her. "Something you're not telling me 'Mione?" he asked sarcastically. She sat up and slugged him hard in the shoulder.
"My name is Hermione, Ronald."
"Shut-up." He was rubbing his shoulder.
"You know I'm kidding." She reached up and soothed his shoulder with small feminine hands. She half smiled. "Sorry."
Ron shrugged. "You just punch so hard . . ."
Hermione had stopped immediately. "Faking it so I'd feel bad? That is so something Fred or George would do," she joked.
He put on a faked hurt face. "Ouch! Taking a jab at my brothers? Low blow, even for you."
"Why'd you fake it anyway?" she questioned. He shrugged and looked at her book. She waited.
"You give really good massages."
Hermione was shocked. She sat just staring at him. Ron kept looking at the book, so she touched his arm. His deep blue eyes bore into her. She couldn't think of anything to say so leaned in and pressed her soft lips against his firm, delicious lips.
*
The memory was crystal clear and terrific. She couldn't help but smile as she remembered their first kiss. But all too soon she recalled t he last time she had visited this place. Her intention was to tell Ron about the reason she had left so quickly and mysteriously for a week. She was in deep depression about the loss of her parents; killed in a plane crash the last night she was at Hogwarts. The night she lost her innocence to Ron she had been so happy. She had woken up in his arms to an owl waiting to deliver the letter that changed everything. She had left before Ron had awoke, without time to leave a note. It seemed like punishment for that night; she disappeared in misery. She spent the week alone and isolated, talking to no one at all and crying all day. Hermione soon became aware she was three days late; she was never late. The moment she had taken the test and it was confirmed she apparated to the Burrow to tell Ron everything.
*
The moment the door opened she was in a tight hug from Molly. "Oh, Hermione! We've been so worried!"
"Yes, I'm so sorry. Molly, I really have to talk to Ron."
"Of course you do. But he's not here."
"He's not here?"
"Well, yes dear . . . He's been, er," she paused, choosing words carefully. "Staying out more often lately."
Hermione's stomach dropped, but ignored it. "M'kay," she smiled. "I'll go for a walk then. See you later Molly."
"Right. Bye dear." Molly's voice was sad, worried and defeated.
The trip up to the small enclosed area was a blur of time to Hermione. All she could truly remember was coming through the trees and seeing Ron Feeling up some girl in the middle of the open space. The girl underneath him was familiar; she'd hardly changed since they met her in Fifth year for the first t time. Her dirty blonde waist length hair was in tangles on the ground around her, and she was still wearing that butterbeer cork necklace and her wand was sticking up from behind her ear. Her bulging eyes opened at the noise and she pushed Ron off of her.
"What is it now?" he grumbled.
Luna tilted her head in Hermione's direction. "Her."
"Ron's eyes almost stuck out as far as Luna's. "Oh bloody 'ell." He tried to stand, but tripped over himself and landed back on top of Luna, who giggled.
Hermione was furious. "now look who is too busy concentrating to hear someone come up?" she spat. He attempted standing once again.
"Mione . . . wait! I can explain."
"You mother mentioned you've been coming in late lately," she snarled.
"Mione!"
"No!"
"Please, just give me a chance. You left without saying anything to anyone."
"So why bother look for me?"
Ron started walking towards her. "Mione, I didn't - don't even know why you left. I thought it was because you regretted . . . and needed time alone.
"No. I don't and never will regret what happened that night."
"Then why?" he demanded angrily.
"Why? Because both my parents were killed that night. An owl came in the morning and I left immediately following."
Luna gasped. Ron reached out to grab her, "I'm so sorry Mione."
She shrugged away. "If it's such a loss, then Luna can comfort you."
"Mione, don't do this!"
"Bug off Ron. And it's Hermione."
*
"Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters and Wizengamot Administration Services."
Ron hurried off the lift towards the Headquarters. It seemed he was the only one there and he hurried off to his cubicle. A witch, sporting an eye patch, popped up from across from him.
"Long time no see. Back at work?"
"Report was due, thought I'd bring it in personally.,"
"Closing a case, on vacation?" she raised her eyebrows.
"Yeah, my daughters. Who knew I'd finish a case without realizing it?"
She nodded approvingly. "Impressive. But from what I know about the case, this means your in her life now. Having fun Dad?"
Ron laughed. "Yes, I love her more than anyone else I know. But I still believe that some investigation will be needed. I don't think we should close it just yet."
"It'll be a rough day if you decide to argue with Dumbledore. He's likes to do things his way lately, and anybody who argues should watch out. And he's taken a lot of interest in this case, put more effort than thought possible at his age. You'll be with Destin constantly, how much closer investigation do you want?"
"I don't know, its just ... To close the case so suddenly, it-"
"Is the best way to do it," Dumbledore interrupted.
"Sir, I disagree," Ron argued strongly, showing no surprise by Dumbledore's sudden appearance.
"I know you do, you've never been able to hide thoughts very well. Mr. Weasley, I'm closing the case-"
"You can't!"
"Would you let me finish?"
"Sorry Sir."
"You will spend no more paid hours on this case. You may continue further investigation on your own time. Find enough reason to reopen it, then I'll listen. Until then, work on your other cases, understood?" Dumbledore made it clear that Ron had better stop arguing if he wanted to keep his job.
"Yes Sir."
"Good."
Ron turned back to his work. He couldn't believe that Dumbledore wouldn't listen to him about what he thought should happen. "Here's the report you requested. No appointments will be needed. I can inform Miss. Granger of the situation.
"Right, thank-you. Welcome back Ron. I think you should start that most recent case that came in, definitely will work in your favor."
"All right, I'll get right on that." The day started out horribly, and nothing looked promising enough to change his mood.
He received an owl from Hermione for dinner at her house that night. The invitation plagued him his mind all day until he wrote back, declining, explaining he was back to work and was going to start a new report that night. But he asked her to lunch the following day, because he desperately needed to tell her something, mentioning maybe Molly could watch Destin for an hour or so. He watched the Ministry owl fly out to deliver his message until it was a speck.
Ron shook his head in attempt to clear all thoughts about Hermione, not that he could truly believed it would work. He started back to read more notes about the utterly boring muggle terrorist case. He definitely had to do some thing to ensure Destin's safety . . . Ron smiled as he found a solution that took care of both their needs.
