Chapter 1: Life of a Hero

The dying cheers of the crowd barely made it to the changing room of the English national team, but the men and woman inside could not tolerate even the faintest remainder of the game they just played.

'I still can't believe Krum', said the only female of the group, a slender and somewhat petite young woman with flaming red hair. 'Did you see that move he made? I thought he was done for when both of his arms were broken by that bludger.'

'Well, that was certainly the most useful application of the Potter manoeuvre I've ever seen.' Came the voice of her teammate, a man with big muscles and carrying a giant bat. But at the sounds of Harry Potter's name, the room's mood suddenly went from depressed to apprehensive. All eyes turned to the tall, red haired man sitting beside his sister.

'It's ok guys, he's been gone for years.' Said Ronald Weasley, star keeper of the Chudley Cannons, and current goalkeeper for the English national team. 'And contrary to what you all think, I know he's still alive, so no need to treat me as if I'm grieving for him, cause I'm not!' Added Ron, half trying to convince himself of what he just said.

'Well, regardless, I would never have thought Krum'd catch it in his mouth, that was a very clever thing to do', chipped in Virginia Weasley, trying to bring the subject back to the game, knowing how sensitive her brother still was on the matter of Harry Potter.

'Yeah, when both of your arms are broken, I doubt using your mouth to catch the snitch involved a lot of clever thinking', said a muscular looking Neville Longbottom, with a not so disguised hint of sarcasm. It was no secret to anyone that Neville, now barely recognizable from the "well-rounded" and clueless looking form of his Hogwarts years, had more than friendly intentions toward Ginny, his teammate and fellow chaser. Ginny, for her part, seemed to return the feeling. Thus, hearing Ginny complementing Krum was something Neville couldn't let pass without adding his own sarcasm to the complement.

'Bah, cheer up guys; we still managed a tie against the most favoured team of the tournament. That's good enough to guarantee us a spot in the second round!' yelled happily the team's manager, Colin Creevey. Colin also acted as the team's official photographer, a role he has performed admirably, according to the media. Most of the players, however, were beginning to think they'd be losing their eyesight soon, due to the extraordinary amount of camera flashes they have experienced under Colin at the most unexpected times.

Most of the team emitted groans of approval at Colin's last comment, although most also thought that a win would have been even better. After all, one didn't really expect a tie when one's team was up by 150 points and the opposing seeker had both arms broken.

'Well, off you go', started their coach, 'see you at practice in two days.'

And with that, everyone disapparated. Everyone, that is, except Ron. He, as captain, still had to face the press with Colin. Ron slowly strolled toward the pressroom, a feeling of dread building in his stomach. Sure enough, there were a throng of reporters already waiting, and they were merciless. As dozens of camera flashed with blinding intensity, and even more questions shouted from every corner of the room, Ron wondered, not for the first time, how his best and seemingly dead friend managed to put up with all this attention at the age of eleven.

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At the other end of the island of England, a small group of grey cloaked, hooded figures were standing around a forest clearing, in a setting that usually went well with this kind of dark wizard gatherings. However, the clear blue sky, and the merry chipping of the birds in the forest around them lessened the dramatic effect somewhat. A leader-looking figure, soon made his way to the middle of the clearing, and started to speak.

Most present did not understand why the meeting was not held during the night, when there would be less chance of them being seen. However, the reason became apparent several minutes into the leader looking figure's speech: tonight, they will be putting their long awaited plan into motion. A plan that would see the rise of the dark wizards into prominence once more. A plan that they, as the last significant group of dark wizards, have been secretly and quietly working toward for the better part of the past seven years. A plan that was made almost infallible with the recent discovery of an ancient and powerful artefact. In short, the perfect plan to take over the world, and no dark-haired, green-eyed boy around to ruin it.

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Ron Weasley was just about to get up from his seat and leave the press room when a final, unexpected question was thrown his way, by a young and junior looking reporter who obviously didn't know the meaning of the word tact: 'Do you have any news of your friend, Hermione Granger, sir?'

At this, most of the room went silent, sensing great quotable words were about to be spoken. Ron, taken totally off guard by the question, answered honestly that no, he didn't have any news about Hermione. That, in fact, he always kept an eye out for anything that might involve Hermione, but nothing had ever come up.

With that, Ron silently stormed out of the room, not caring what kind of media circus might arise from his innocent statements. However, his mind began, despite his best efforts, to flash back to the day that his old life came to an abrupt halt.

It was a dark and humid late summer afternoon, the sky was covered by a sea of grey clouds on the verge of pouring their liquid contents on the world below. For Ron (and just about everyone else), a torrent of rain would be a welcoming change from the suffocating heat that, nevertheless, managed to leave one's clothes drenched.

Hermione had contacted him a few minutes earlier, asking in a monotone voice if Ron wouldn't mind dropping by, managing skilfully to dodge the reason behind this impromptu summoning.

Of course, it was not as if Ron would ever consider saying no to Hermione regardless of what she asked. Their friendship was already beyond such trivial matters as life and death, much less money or jobs. Or angry coaches that would probably kick me off the team for missing practice, thought Ron as he made his way toward the little and modest flat that was Hermione's home for the past few months.

Ever since Harry's apparent death a couple weeks earlier, Hermione had been living like a hermit, coming out only for the barest of necessities. Harry's death must have been harder on her, mused Ron as he raised his hand to knock at the front door. Must be a girl thing, was Ron's last thought before the door opened to a normal looking Hermione. Ron had expected to find her in a state of complete disarray, and was glad to see she had at least taken care of herself well enough. Without a word, she dragged him inside and quickly slammed the door shut.

'I'm leaving', was all she said as way of greeting.

'Huh… where? When? How long will you be gone?' Ron replied, feeling a bit betrayed that she'd leave him alone to deal with the aftermath of all that had transpired during the past few weeks.

As if she knew exactly how Ron felt, Hermione simply said: 'Ron, I'm sorry if this leaves you in an awkward situation…' And then, as if reciting from a prepared speech, she quickly continued, 'I've had it with all this Dark Lord mess, Ron. When I went to Hogwarts, I never expected that my life would be turned upside down like this. And I certainly didn't expect the wizarding world to be so full of darkness. And when Harry was gone…' here, her voiced cracked, and she paused for a long while, struggling to hold back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her.

Finally, she continued: ' When Harry left, that was the last straw for me. I can't take it anymore. I'm leaving this lonely world behind…forever.' Hermione spoke the last word with a finality that left no room for argument.

But Ron, being Ron, nevertheless pleaded with her to stay, invoking reasons ranging from all the friends she will be leaving behind, all the way down to how the media will only have him to focus on if she was not with him.

Finally, after much yelling and even more subdued shouting, Ron gave Hermione a silent hug that managed to convey what mere words could not. They held on to each other for what seemed like hours, and when they finally pulled apart, Ron saw that Hermione's eyes were shimmering with unshed tears. He absently wondered, not for the last time, what is it with girls and tears, even though, unbeknownst to him, his own eyes were damp and full of sorrow.

They then talked long into the night, reminiscing about a time when everything was much simpler, and more joyful. Even the tales of their dark adventures with Harry during all their Hogwarts years seemed to bring back happy memories. Because, now, Harry was gone, and they both knew that after tonight, that memorable chapter of their life would come to an irreversible end.

Much later that night, Ron slowly made his way toward the exit to Hermione's flat for what he thought would be the last time. As he pulled the door open, a feeling of loneliness and despair washed over him, for he finally realized how truly alone he would now become. And with that thought, he slowly turned his head around, letting his eyes lock hungrily with those of his remaining best friend of more than seven years. Outside, the first raindrops charged down the night sky for what promised to be a drenching shower.

Looking into those familiar chocolate brown eyes full of sadness and resignation, Ron slowly opened his mouth, trying to bring himself to confess the secret feelings of love he had harboured for her for the past few years, but then, as always, his courage failed him, and his mouth closed of its own accord.

Suddenly, a flash of lightning arced across the night sky, illuminating Ron and Hermione for a brief instant. And within that instant, Ron caught the faintest glimmer of hope in the turbulent sea of emotions that was contained within those brown orbs of his friend. But as quickly as the flash in the sky, the glimmer faded away, leaving Ron thinking he must have imagined the whole thing.

And with a final, silent nod to convey the farewell wishes he could not bring himself to say, Ron tore his gaze away from Hermione's, speeding away from the house as fast as he could for reasons he did not even know.

Ron apparated in front of the Burrow, memories of Hermione still fresh in his head. It was a clear and sunny day outside, with a gentle breeze and some fluffy white clouds up in the sky.

What a difference to the day Hermione left, thought Ron as he stepped into the only home he'd ever known. Fresh with the memories of his adolescent life, Ron quickly scanned the familiar surroundings and smiled despite himself. It would seem that, no matter how the world outside of it changed, the Burrow would remain stubbornly the same, as if defying forever the trends of change and, now more obviously than ever, the Law of Gravity.

Ginny and Neville were sitting in the kitchen, chatting amicably about the next game they would play. Ron angrily cleared his throat, for, while they were talking, his sister and Neville's faces were drifting way too close for his liking. Ginny, looking up, smiled knowingly at his older brother; for, while Ron automatically hated anyone who dared to try getting close to Ginny, Neville didn't seem to have irked Ron as much as the others have. Ginny took that as a sign that his brother was, in his own way, approving of her latest choice.

'Percy called in from the Ministry just a while back', Ginny said quickly, not giving Ron the chance to comment on her and Neville. 'He wanted to talk to you about something, said it was important…'

Since Ron was the last remaining member of the famous Hogwarts Trio, and somewhat of a hero during the Second Voldemort War, he was regularly called upon to perform auror related duties for the ministry, both as a favour for his brother, and because his reputation and actual skill usually made the situation much easier to handle than they would normally have been.

Ron normally didn't mind the extra work, as it kept his duelling skills horned, and he had even used it as an excuse quite a few times to get himself out of a few boring or awkward situations. However, he was not about to confess his semi-liking of the extra job to anyone.

'Important my eye! Last time he asked me to look into something important, I stood up my date for some silly illegal flying carpets', complained Ron, although Ginny suspected that Ron had not been all that displeased to get away from his date that particular time.

'Percy seemed genuinely worried this time. He gave me the impression that this is something big', offered Ginny, knowing she could always count on her brother's new born curiosity to convince Ron to look further into this matter. She was actually quite curious about this mysterious affair herself, but she, unlike Ron, didn't have as much security clearance with the ministry to be trusted with the top-secret issues that this case seemed to be.

'Oh well, better look into it then', said Ron enthusiastically, all pretence of disinterest forgotten. As Ron cheerfully prepared to leave the Burrow for the ministry, Ginny absently thought about how his brother had, over the years, picked up quite an appetite for abnormal adventures.

It all started with the small requests from the ministry about looking into some suspected Death Eater activities, as Ron was arguably the most qualified living expert about them. And at that time, Ron, having been deserted by his two closest friends, didn't seem to think his own life was all that precious, and eagerly agreed to any mission that might get him killed.

The Weasley clan was extremely alarmed by it, and eventually convinced Ron to not be so reckless and take on a normal job, which he did, as a quidditch reserve keeper. However, Ron seemed to have kept his craving for dangerous adventures, usually involving a lot of duels, mysterious artefacts, and such.

Eventually, Ron had worked (quite unintentionally, he would tell you) his way up the ministry ladder (despite not being an official employee of the ministry), and was currently hailed (secretly) as one of the top agents of the ministry.

She supposed that this whole agent and adventure business was Ron's way of compensating for the loss of his two best friends, and all the fun they have had together. However, she also put together a much more logical reason behind her brother's new found obsession with the oddities of the world, a reason that, perhaps, her dear brother did not even consciously thought about. For she and Ron both remember that, not so long a go, in a castle full of ghosts and moving stairs, a certain famous dark haired boy would always be involved in some unusual happening or other. Thus, by keeping an eye on the mysteries occurring around the globe, Ron was, subconsciously, hoping against hope to catch any possible news concerning his seemingly departed best friend.

'Well, I'm going to talk to that good for nothing brother of ours', said Ron good naturedly, 'Don't do anything irresponsible!' That last comment being mostly directed at Neville. And with a pop, Ron disapparated.

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Ron apparated in front of his older brother's office (nobody can apparate directly in the Minister of Magic's office, of course) and informed the receptionist of his arrival. He was led into Percy's office soon after, past the imposing and stoic aurors that stood guard on either side of the even more imposing office entrance. Ron was, as he has done each time he went into Percy's office, absentmindedly analyzing his chances of taking both guards down should he ever feel the urge to kick his brother's butt.

Deep down, Ron has never truly forgiven Percy for what he did to the family and to Harry during their fifth year at Hogwarts. And although Percy had later redeemed himself by saving Harry's life at the risk of his own, Ron still hold a tiny grudge, no matter how exemplary of a good man Percy has recently become. It was often said that, had Percy not experienced first hand the consequences of being a power hungry wizard willing to serve any without regard to loyalty or principles, he would never have recanted as much as he did, and consequently never been able to become the virtuous man who's admirable behaviour allowed him to be voted as the youngest Minister of Magic in England's history.

And even Ron can recognize that Percy was doing a fantastic job at regulating the going-ons of the wizarding England, all the while not letting the power getting to his head in the process. Thus, it was with a warm smile that Ron trudged into the gigantic office of the Minister of Magic, a smile that quickly vanished as he saw the look on his brother's face.

'Bad news Ron, I'm afraid', said Percy without the usual pleasantries. 'We have just learned, from a reliable source, that there might be a group of dark wizards calling themselves the Death Eater Remnants, and worst of all', here, Percy took a pause for dramatic effect. 'They seem to be led by none other than Lucius Malfoy!'

'Do you have proof of this? I'd love to go and arrest Malfoy… and even better if he tries to resist!' Replied Ron, hoping against hope that he can finally settle an old score.

'I'm sorry, Ron. There is no concrete proof yet. But this information came directly from THE source', replied Percy meaningfully. Ron knew exactly what Percy meant by "THE" source.

Someone has been anonymously owling tips and information on dark wizard activities to the ministry for the better part of three years. At first, nobody took the tips seriously, as there were many pranksters that just didn't know how far was too far. But soon, after the first few tips had become true, the ministry has started to pay more attention to information from the particular source.

Eventually, that source became the single most reliable informant in the ministry, and has simply come to be known as "THE" source. Sometimes, Ron couldn't help but suspect that one of his missing friends was actually behind it.

'Well, what was so urgent then?' asked Ron, puzzled. 'I hardly think some unproved conspiracy theory was all that pressing, even if it did involve the Malfoys.'

'Eh, actually, the urgent information concerns a totally unrelated matter', started Percy, unsure how to inform his younger brother of the news. 'Now, Ron, don't get your hopes up too much… but we have received unconfirmed reports of sightings of your old friend…'

'What, Harry is back?' interrupted Ron, almost shouting. 'When? Where, How? Why didn't you tell me sooner??'

'No no no, you misunderstood me', Percy quickly replied. 'I was talking about your other best friend, Hermione Granger.'

'Oh…' Ron said, disappointed that it wasn't Harry. Then, he suddenly realized who Percy just said and went on another rampage, demanding even more information than during his first barrage of questions.

Percy remained calm and tried to answer his little brother's questions as best as he could, which was not a lot, considering he himself didn't know anything more.

'Most of the sightings are in London', said Percy. 'Although there is this lonely old wizard near York who swore to us he saw her bathing naked in his back yard. Then again, he also swore he saw an angel chasing a cuckoo bird a couple of years back…'

Ron proceeded to grill Percy with even more questions about the sightings. Finally, as Percy didn't have any more information to give and was growing tired of trying to convince Ron of that fact, he simply gave Ron the list of people who reported the sightings. Percy was still contemplating how to politely ask Ron to leave his office when he realized that Ron had already taken off; right after receiving the list of people who claimed to have seen Hermione.