Chapter 9- A New Life

Ron's scrawny body had suddenly looked very buff and threatening as he barked commands at his fellows. Luna came out of the secret wall, together with Terry Boot, looking alert and calm. Ron gave her a what-took-you-so-long look as Luna examined the wizards that had carried Hermione by her arms and legs.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Those were the first words that came out of Luna's mouth. They were not dull and lifeless but snappy and strict. She flicked her wand and a stretcher came out, "Put her here!" The four men heaved Hermione into the stretcher. Luna surveyed Hermione's face quickly: it was getting paler and paler. Luna made her way to her room, magically carrying the shelter with her.

"I'm coming too!" Ron demanded quickly and followed Luna.

Luna looked back at him and surveyed him carefully. Then she raised her eyebrow and said in a firm, professional-sounding voice, "Mr. Weasley, I suggest you get dressed first before you come in another woman's private quarters." Luna then continued inside her secret dorm, and then the hole on the wall vanished.

Ron opened his mouth but he could not object. He turned to some giggling men and glared at them showing that same deadly look he had before. He then opened the door to his room with a harsh pull, entered inside, and then slammed it shut.

Dean Thomas came out of Luna's room with a disappointed and confused look. He shrugged and told the onlookers, "She kicked me out," then made a face and sat at one of the wooden tables sulking.

Ron came out an instant later wearing his cleanest clothes, which were poorly cleaned with a scourgify spell, and a worried look. He came to Luna's wall and whispered, "Emergency!" Ron stared at the wall expectantly for a time but nothing happened. After that, he placed his palms on the walls and started feeling it for some kind of switch or whatever he might find to open the bloody thing. Frustration set itself upon him after a few worthless tries to open Luna's magical door. He pulled out his wand and then started tapping the wall while muttering.

Dean was looking at Ron with a slight grinning. "Why don't you knock on it?" He said as though this was the most obvious thing in the world to do. Ron rolled his eyes at him and knocked on the wall. With his patience draining quickly from him, he waited.

He whirled around to Dean and glared at him dangerously. Dean looked down and slowly went to the kitchen, frequently glancing back at Ron like he was going to pounce on him any second.

"Yes, Ron?" Luna said so suddenly that Ron jumped in surprise.

"Can I come in now?" Ron asked after his heart had stopped jumping up and down.

"Sure, why not." Luna and Ron reentered the secret door. Ron stepped inside and breathed in the unusual smell of different medical potions. Surveying the racks carefully, he walked step by step with Luna feeling the trip through her room longer than usual. He wanted to breathe deeper, to calm his nerves but the rancid smell of the potions kept him from doing so. He wondered if Hermione was fine. No, he hoped Hermione was fine. He shook with every step as he though of Hermione's cold pale lips, her lifeless hands, her faint breathing. He felt his heart wrenching and hoped dearly that Luna's ability would bring back those warm soft lips, that glimmering smile. It seemed impossible. Ron was so deep in thought that he had not noticed his head collide with a wooden door.

"Watch it," Luna warned too late. She grabbed the knob and twisted it. "You know, I should've paid more attention to this in class." She shook her head obviously disappointed at herself. "I feel like a muggle doctor." She continued on shaking her head.

Ron was staring at her with disbelief, "What are you talking about?" He asked worriedly. What was she talking about, indeed? Did she lose Hermione already? Ron thought it wasn't possible. Luna could just have a completely different reason for acting so weird. She usually does act weird. Why did she have to be so indifferent to his feelings? Did she not know that he was really worried about Hermione? Was she really being serious?

Luna was looking up at Ron while thoughts kept him from focusing on reality. "You know, she's been under too much stress." She smacked her forehead hard. "I'm such a bad healer. With all this hype, she really could've died. Why didn't I notice it so soon? She was, after all, becoming very moody." She looked back up to Ron who just stared at her unblinkingly. Luna sighed. "I guess it's time to see her Ron." Seeing the grim look on Ron's face she added, "She's fine. Just a little woozy."

Ron snapped out of his trance-like state feeling a lot better. "So what happened to her?"

"Like I said, she was too stressed out."

"Yeah... so?"

"Ronald Weasley!" Luna bellowed. "Didn't you notice that your woman is pregnant?"

"No, I haven't," said Ron while thinking very hard. Then it struck him. "She's pregnant?" His eyes widened with joy as the news settled into his brain. "She's pregnant! I can't believe it!" He turned to Luna with a big smile and asked, "She is? Really?"

"Yes, two months... give or take a week."

Ron jumped with delight. "I'm going to be a dad!" He screamed loudly.

"Ron, this room is not enchanted with the same silencing charm as the meeting room. If you're too loud, you will be heard!"

"Oh!" Ron settled down a little but was still shivering with joy. "Can we see her now, please?" He pleaded.

"That's why we're here." Luna pushed the door open. Hermione was lying on a small bed and covered with white linen sheets. She was fast asleep and seemed to be okay. Ron was beaming at her.

Ron turned quickly to Luna, and with a glimmer on his eyes, said, "I've got to tell the boys!" Luna shrugged in reply and Ron dashed off. Luna could swear that she saw him jump ten feet into the air as he ran back to the meeting room.

Ron had not felt so excited nor so nervous at the same time before. He struggled to keep control of himself and not yell out suddenly as he followed the tunnel of potions to the meeting room. He felt so happy but sad, everything was so surreal yet it was all so true! He was going to be a dad! He still could not believe it. He was going to be a dad! He ran this thought through his head over and over as he brought himself to the meeting room.

The magical door that led to Luna's room opened wide, and Ron burst from it looking overjoyed. Dean and Seamus, who were sitting at the far end table drinking pumpkin juice, turned to face him.

"I think he's gone mad," whispered Seamus to Dean. "How bad is it, mate?" Seamus asked Ron, trying to look concerned.

"Bad? It's good!" Ron corrected still beaming at the two.

"You're sick, man. Maybe you should rest," said Seamus shaking his head.

"No, no, no. You got it all wrong. I'm fine! I'm going to be a father soon!"

Seamus stood up looking surprised. He surveyed Ron carefully to make sure he had all his screws on tight. Seeing none he concluded, "Great! Let's go celebrate!"

"Why don't you come with us Dean?" asked Ron grinning from ear to ear.

"I'd rather not," replied Dean looking sore and in pain. Ron frowned a bit.

"Okay... don't hurt yourself," said Ron and he left with Seamus.

The two men walked out of the room and closed the door tight. For the rest of the day, the only person in the meeting room was Dean. He stared dully into space unblinking with his mouth hanging open. Once or twice he would hit his head, mumbling something about not going out and being miserable. People would come in, look at him, then shake their heads and walk out.

Hermione found herself floating comfortably in the middle of a shimmering lake when she woke up. She looked around at the distant silhouette of trees and saw a bright red light flash somewhere beyond it. She stood up, then became startled at what she had just done: she was standing on water.

"Priestess," called out a strangely familiar voice. Hermione remembered at once who it was and then, suddenly, she felt herself getting pulled into the woods to the source of the red light. The lake parted as she zoomed past it. Thick branches and leaves whizzed past her face. When she finally reached the clearing, she smiled at the figure standing in front of her.

Suzaku stood elegantly in the middle of the clearing. He wore the same red fiery hair, the same flowing red and white robes, the same smile that radiated from him and gave a feeling of comfort. He had his hand spread out, beckoning Hermione to move closer. The trees around him swayed in a rhythmic dance as a cool breeze pampered them gently.

Hermione moved closer a little with her head lowered to the ground: at first being unsure about what to do. Every time she would look up, something in the back of her mind would tell her to step forward. She went on, stepping prudently, her eyes now locked on to the mesmerizing gaze of the Red God. It was calming, soothing, and beckoning. She allowed his flame to consume her, warming her body.

"In the near future, we shall be united. The union will bring light to the world, and devour the darkness. Priestess, this is your task." Suzaku vanished in a sparkle of red light after saying this. His voice echoed loudly in the trees but he was no longer there. The trees halted their graceful movement and became darkness that grew greater and greater. Hermione as suddenly surrounded by a great darkness with only the little light emanating in her heart to stop its steady advance.

"I know what I must do," she whispered to herself. She covered the shining inside her tightly with her two hands, and she was consumed in total blackness.

"Cheers mate!" Ron said drunkenly to Seamus as they clinked together their glass mugs and drank it whole with one gulp.

"I didn't know muggle drinks could be this good," remarked Seamus between hicks.

"It's just you, mate. We haven't been drinking in a long while," said Ron. He got up and felt everything around him rotate slowly, and then it began to spin faster and faster. He staggered back and forth, trying to maintain balance. He heard something in the back of his mind urging him to fall down and just lay there.

"Hey! Watch it there! You look like you need some help there, Ron."

"No, I'm fine," insisted Ron feeling the swirling in his head slow to a stop. He ventured a step forward and the whole world started spinning again.

"Are you sure you're alright?" One of the muggle bystanders asked looking a little worried.

"Don't worry about me," answered Ron, "I'm magical. I can take this." He struggled to reach the lavatory. A few seconds after, he came out looking beet red, "Oops!" Everyone laughed.

Seamus followed Ron into the bathroom, walking slowly to avoid tripping and falling face first to the floor. He had one of his hands pressed tightly on his forehead, and had the other reaching out to feel what was ahead of him. The place, with its darkened lights and sparkling disco balls, was hazy to Seamus' eyes. He felt as though he had gone inside a fog. Finally, he managed to reach the bathroom. He heard shrill screaming and realized that he had gone through the wrong door. Feeling rather embarrassed, and a gigantic bump growing on his head, he went and found the right door. He twisted the doorknob and pushed the door in.

Seamus peered carefully inside to make sure that Ron was there. He found him vomiting on the floor. He called out, "Ron!" I think we better go."

"I can't apparate: too dizzy," replied Ron.

"Well, we can't anyway," said Seamus matter-of-factly. He grabbed Ron by the hand and pulled but he felt himself falling down on the floor so he raised himself back up with Ron's arm.

"Hey! Easy there!" Ron whined.

"No, Ron. We need to keep balance. Now lean on my shoulder."

For a few minutes, the two worked their way into balancing themselves before finally leaving the bathroom. They found their way out of the bar, after walking in circles for a while, and into the street. Ron clumsily placed a hat over his head to hide his flaming red hair. They continued walking along the black asphalt road, occasionally swaying left or right. Cars no longer posed a big threat, since so few of them remained, so the two men could walk in the middle of the street without fear of getting flattened to death.

However, all of the muggles had fearful faces. They looked anxiously around the dark corners of the street for a sign of a rampaging beast, or a sadistic Death Eater that was out with no business to do but torture, kill, or force the muggles to obey their every whim. Many of them were covered in thick, dark sweaters and furs of all kind, with only their eyes sticking out and darting around to see the surroundings, as though this was some kind o protective material that might rescue them from their plight, or hide them from the perilous world. Even the braver, more courageous and adventurous ones would glance back nervously behind them to see if there was anyone trailing them. Laughter, happiness, and cheer were things of the past: never forgotten but never experienced. Fear, sorrow, and hatred were more rampant and widespread.

Even the muggle houses, and buildings, and artistic objects, and many other things that used to litter the streets, in, between, and out, were reduced to a rare few. Almost all had been destroyed, demolished, dilapidated, decimated, degraded, and diminished by the followers of Voldemort who, with the Ministry of Magic gone, were free to use their evil spells at will and decided to rid the world of the muggles and the filth they had made.

The melancholic plight of the muggles were not at the top of Ron's and Seamus' worries at the time, however, They were much more focused on their state of elation, mainly influenced by the excessive amounts of liquor they had taken a few hours ago. They pranced, oblivious, in the streets and sang out-of-tune songs loudly into the tense air.

The muggles stared at them horribly as though they were the two most repulsive things that existed on Earth, but neither of them cared. In fact, the two didn't seem to see how the passersby leered at them or grumble loudly in an obvious effort to try and catch their attention. They weaved, left and right, in the middle of the street. Sometimes, either Ron or Seamus would fall to the ground and scratch his head sheepishly.

The pair moved to the direction where they thought the entrance to the hidden tunnel was, but they soon found out that they had gone around the same place twice. Looking around, Ron noticed that they had passed the same towering trees, the same pile of rubble on the side, the same paved road with a slight bump on the middle, the same dimly lit lamppost, almost more than three times. He slowed to a stop and then Seamus, who still had his arm slung around him, stopped too, after noticing that he was trying to move an immovable object.

"What's the problem?" Seamus asked looking bewildered.

"We're lost," Ron pointed out blatantly. "I think we should stop for a second and figure out where we're supposed to go."

"Good idea," exclaimed Seamus absentmindedly.

Ron nodded slowly and began looking hard as he tried to squeeze out the memories of where they had gone to reach the bar, which was to his right side. He spotted the familiar paved path, the familiar cluster of trees, and everything that they had passed by about thirty minutes ago. However, there was something that caught the corner of Ron's eye. It was a very small, and easily dismissed, stall that twinkled with assorted objects. Behind it stood a wrinkled bald man wearing a huge grin with great big gaps on his teeth. He stood there, fiddling with the different things within his grasp, and smiled widely to any stranger who passed by, being very careful to show a glint of gold at the very back end of his mouth.

Overcome with curiosity, Ron moved closer toward the man while keeping an eye fixed on his cracked teeth. ON reaching the stall, he placed his hands imperially upon a clear space of the stand and managed to smile to the old man behind it.

"How may I help you?" The man croaked in his most hospitable voice. He smiled jovially, showing the one lone gold tooth at the very back of his mouth.

"I... uh..." Ron stammered.

"No worries!" The man interrupted with a slight hop. "I have everything here for you!" He scooped up a golden lamp from the pile of sparkling objects and lifted it up to Ron's face. "This lamp, believe it or not, can grant you three wishes if you are pure of heart when you rub it."

"Whatever," muttered Ron under his breath and walked away.

He was a few paces away from the stall when he heard the man grumble, "You darn muggles don't believe anything." The man sighed revealing a slight frown.

Ron whirled around quickly as he heard the word 'muggle'. He strode quickly back to the stall, staring at the man as though he was a completely new person, and asked, "Did you say muggle?"

"Yes, sir. But I don't think there's anything wrong with that: it means buyer," the man croaked indignantly.

"No, that's not what I meant," said Ron apologetically, "I meant: are you a wizard, sir?"

The old man retracted and blinked twice, then he stared down the ground and whispered, "I'm a squib." He lifted his head back up and glowered at Ron threateningly.

Ron felt taken aback, but recovered his strength and managed to say, "Then, sir, you must go now and take refuge with Dumbledore. The Death Eaters-"

"The Death Eaters?" The man interrupted with a raised eyebrow. He then waved his hand as though dismissing the issue and said, "They won't find me. I have a flying carpet that could get me anywhere if they ever manage to spot me." He gestured towards the flapping cloth that covered the stall. "Besides young lad, Death Eaters haven't visited this area in quite awhile." He began shuffling through the pile of merchandise once again and showed Ron an old flute with some cracks in it. "This, I think, has some kind of magical power. I've never known how to use it."

Ron was not listening to the old man, however. He was more focused on a ring that was revealed by the man's last shuffling. It was a golden ring with a medium-sized ruby red gem placed on the top. "What's this?" Ron inquired as he picked up the small ring and examined it.

"Oh... that," said the old man sounding less enthusiastic. "It's just a common ring that emperors used to wear." He took the ring from Ron's eager fingers and polished it hard. "It's not really magical. It just glows sometimes. I think it's-"

"I think it's perfect!" Ron exclaimed.

"Thirty pounds!" The man informed wearing his almost toothless grin again.

"Thirty pounds!" Ron yelled feeling a wave of slight anger travel through him.

"What's the matter?" Seamus asked entering the conversation. He had rushed quickly to Ron's side from the middle of the street when he heard him shout. "It's not safe, you know," he whispered.

Ron ignored him and continued, "Bloody hell! Thirty pounds! Are you crazy?"

The man matched Ron's angry and flushed face; his foot tapped the ground. Seamus looked to Ron and the old man. Both their faces were growing redder and redder. He knew he had to do something to stop a ruckus. He shoved Ron aside and gave him an I'll-take-care-of-this look. Ron nodded.

"Uh, sir," started Seamus, "what's your name, sir?"

"Name?" The man mimicked surveying Seamus. "You don't need my name."

"Alright," said Seamus calmly, "You know, it's been dark times and this is the first time he's had a child. You know, at least he can make his wife happy. I mean... she's suffering. She feels terrible for what's happened."

Seamus' plan had worked. The man was listening intently to him with quivering lips. Seamus hid his triumphant smile as the man spoke, "I... I didn't know." A tear streamed down the man's cheek as he continued, "You know, I lost my family because of You-Know-Who."

"Voldemort," corrected Seamus and the man jumped.

"I was out of business as usual... I come back and the Dark Mark was hovering on my house." The old man was starting to cry now. He shook a little as he sniffled. "I was so scared. I ran away. I never saw their bodies... I didn't want to."

Seamus nodded his head compassionately, "I'm so sorry." He made a slight gasp. The man was shoving the ring into his hand.

"Here," the man said, "at least there's one happy family in this wretched place. I hope you will be able to weather this one." He wiped the tears on his eyes between sniffs.

"We wouldn't need to," said Ron with a slight burst of confidence, "We have a plan to defeat him." He felt sure that this was the truth. He knew Hermione's plan was going to work since they were so close to getting all the jewels. He looked at the ring Seamus had handed to him: this was a small payment, and token of love, for the sacrifices his Hermione had made. This was sure to make her happy, especially since it will help calm her despite the labor pains. "Thanks," he told the man before leaving.

Ron's mind felt so clear after the encounter with the old man that he found the right path to the underground tunnel after just a few minutes of walking around. He could not stop feeling sad for the man, however, as he tried to lighten his mood, walking inside the damp tunnel.

Ron and Seamus were right near the door when it burst open and Dean came out of it looking exasperated. "Hey, Dean, where're you going?" Ron asked out of pure curiosity.

"Oh... I was going to look for you," Dean heaved.

"Why? Is there a problem?"
"No! I thought I could go out with you guys, you know, have some fun."

"Oh! You just missed it, mate! We had a great time," Seamus blurted out enthusiastically. Ron turned to him and frowned. Dean was a bit disappointed.

Ron broke the awkward silence that followed by saying, "Let's go in. I want to check on my Hermione." He rushed past the two other men and hurried to Luna's wall. He noticed that there was nobody in the meeting room. He pounded on the magical wall harder, feeling that Luna couldn't hear. Yet, there was no answer.

"Where's everyone, Dean?" Seamus asked and Ron guessed that he must have noticed when he entered.

"They... uh... they went to get the fourth jewel," Dean replied bluntly.

Ron smacked his forehead hard with frustration. How could he have forgotten? It was the fourth week and they were supposed to go and get another of the jewels. He was so excited hours ago the he totally forgot the day's agenda and went off celebrating.

He spun around and turned to Dean, "So where's Hermione?"
"She went with them," said Dean matter-of-factly. Why was he being so insensitive?
"You mean she went out when she's pregnant and not supposed to be under stress?" Ron shouted angrily.

"No, she was fine. I mean two months isn't going to stop her." Dean spoke so plainly and void of emotion that Ron started to get angry at his indifferent attitude. Did he not see the gravity of the situation? Why did he let Hermione out when she was supposed to be resting? Ron felt blood rushing into his face and his balled fists tightened.

Seamus noticed the growing tension between the two and stepped between them to mediate. "Now, Ron. It's not Dean's fault."

Ron looked away from Dean inhaling big gulps of air. The sun was setting rapidly, and he hoped they would be home soon. The three gentlemen stood there in silence contemplating on whatever events had happened. Ron worried about Hermione. He prayed she would not suffer another one of those vomiting episodes. He tried to convince himself that it was all going to be all right: Luna was with them. He paced around slowly, trying to examine a very moldy part of the tunnel right near the corner of the room. He had not noticed before how round and dome-like the meeting room ceiling was.