Disclaimer : The Harry Potter characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. Many thanks to her for letting them roam about in the world I created for a bit.
As always, thank you sooooooooooo much for your reviews!
CHAPTER 4 – Nothing Else Matters
"Exactly what did you have in mind to pass the time, Ms. Chase?"
A million thoughts ran through Hermione's head. The answers to Ron's question were limitless; however, she knew exactly what she wanted to do. As a matter of fact, she wanted it more right now and with Ron than she could ever remember. In their short time together, Hermione had learned enough about this gentleman to know that he was respectful. So by asking her what she wanted to do, he had given her an open invitation; she just needed to act on it.
And act, she did!
Hermione couldn't begin to explain what had possessed her to kiss her companion, nor could she explain how she felt when he kissed her back with just as much passion as she was feeling. She most definitely couldn't explain how she had ended up in the backyard, pressed between the privacy fence and Ron's body with her legs wrapped around his waist; their tongues battling for dominance. She just didn't normally act like this.
She broke the kiss, panting heavily, trying desperately to fill her lungs with much needed air. Ron, apparently not as needful of air, continued kissing her jaw down to her neck. As her head started to lose some of its lust-induced haze, she felt an overwhelming need to explain that this behavior was not normal for her.
With Ron still worshipping her neck, she whispered into his ear, "I normally don't do this."
He chuckled against her skin and said, "What? And here I thought that everyone in the States shagged outdoors."
Hermione couldn't help it; she began laughing. This was not the type of situation one liked to get a case of the giggles during. However, the laugh quickly turned to a moan as Ron's hands started kneading her bum.
"No, I…I mean…I don't usually bring guys home from the bar, and I definitely don't ravage them in my backyard."
Ron stopped his assault on her neck and bum and looked her in the eyes. "That's good to know." He kissed her gently and pulled away before she could deepen the kiss. "And for the record, I normally don't do this either."
Hermione's heart melted. Looking into his eyes, she could tell that Ron was telling her the truth and not just some line to seal the deal of getting into her knickers. Still gripping his shoulder with one hand, she ran the other through the fringe across his forehead. They stayed there staring into each other's eyes for several seconds, and Hermione suddenly felt the intense need to tell him that she loved him.
She mentally slapped herself. 'Get a grip, girl! You've known this guy for, what, five seconds. It's not love you're feeling; it's lust! That's it. You want him and you can feel how much he wants you. Lust! Nothing more than lust!'
Deciding that she needed to step away from the situation for a moment before she said something that she'd surely regret, Hermione unwrapped her legs and slid down Ron's hard body. She slid out from between him and the fence wall, grabbed her bag and his hand, and said, "Come on."
She managed to lead him across the yard and up the steps of the back porch before Ron attacked her neck once more from behind her. Throwing caution to the wind again, she dropped her bag and turned so that within seconds his mouth was crashing down on hers.
She moaned into his mouth as he once again lifted her up by her bum and pressed her against the outer wall of the house. As before, her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling his groin in closer contact with her. Their kisses turned desperate and Ron started thrusting his pelvis against hers.
Again when she surfaced for air, he worked his way down her neck, but this time he didn't stop there. Before she even had time to register a thought about what he was doing to her shirt, Ron had pulled down the front of her cotton tank top, pushed aside her bra and had taken one of her hardened nipples into his mouth.
Immediately her hands were in his hair, holding his head there as she bucked against him. She moaned, "Oh, god, Ron!"
She was rewarded with a more enthusiastic thrust from the redhead and a moan against her skin.
"Mmm, Hermione."
Her eyes shot wide open. It was as if her blood had suddenly turned to ice and all the air had been sucked from her lungs. 'Oh, dear lord, no. That couldn't have been what he said.' Her fight or flight instinct kicked in and before Ron could've possibly known what was happening, Hermione had untangled herself from him and pushed him away from her. She knew the look on her face must have been horrifying because she saw Ron flinch.
"Get away from me." The statement was strong but Hermione said it in an eerily calm and normal voice.
Ron looked dumbfounded. "Miranda, love, what's wrong?" he asked cautiously as he took a step toward her.
This time the statement was anything but calm when Hermione screamed, "Get away!"
She had put her hands up to push away at his shoulders as she screamed but felt an odd sensation run through her. As the words left her mouth, Ron went flying back, over the porch railing and landed on his arse in the backyard.
Hermione was terrified She couldn't make sense of anything that was happening. Tears were instantly flowing down her face and she quickly turned to the back door, grabbing her bag and fighting frantically to find her keys.
"Miranda." Ron's voice was low and slightly strained.
Hermione spun around, scared that he was approaching her again, but she was relieved to find that he was standing in the same spot he had landed on in the yard. Now he not only looked confused but heartbroken as well.
"Miranda, look I'm really sorry I pushed you or did something you didn't want me to do. I got a little carried away 'cause its been a really, really long time, but I'd never do anything to hurt you. I swear it! I'm so, so, so sorry." His voice was pleading and sounded as if he was holding back tears.
Hermione took a deep breath to try to calm herself. She closed her eyes to clear her head then looked Ron in the eyes and asked, "What did you say when you were… what did you call me?"
Still looking her in the eyes, Ron answered, "Love, I didn't say anything. I didn't call you anything. I moaned, that's all."
Hermione studied him closely, watching him plead using his eyes, hoping that she'd believe him. There was sincerity not only in his words but in his voice and facial features as well. She didn't think that there was anyway that he could possibly be lying.
'Dear lord, woman! Get a grip on yourself. You start to finally get a little action from a very sexy man and you go mental.'
Hermione sighed and closed her eyes once more to attempt to stop the tears that were still falling. When she opened them again, Ron hadn't moved and was still looking at her expectantly. She glanced down in her bag and saw her keys in the bottom corner. She grabbed them and proceeded to unlock the door before facing Ron once again.
"I'm sorry, Ronald. I…I…I think you should leave now." With that, she stepped through the doorway into the house, closed and locked the door behind her then fell to her knees on the kitchen floor and cried harder than she had in years.
'----------
Ron was fucked.
And, dear Merlin, it sure as hell wasn't the happy, fun way he was sure he was on his way to. No, he had really messed things up the moment he had become too engulfed in what he was doing and moaned her name.
'Her real name, you stupid git!'For about a second he had hoped that he really hadn't said it aloud, and if he had, that she hadn't heard him. Unfortunately, he had been wrong on both accounts.
Ron knew that things were about to get very awkward when Hermione had disentangled herself from him and pushed him away. He had expected her to be furious and to ask why he had moaned another woman's name. However, he did not expect her to look utterly terrified when she told him to get away from her.
He had thought that he could diffuse the situation. Again, he had been terribly mistaken and then had been extremely shocked when she had apparently used wandless magic, unbeknownst to her, to expel him from the back steps and onto the dew dampened grass.
Thank goodness for his Auror training and his ability to lie effectively. He had never expected he'd have to use the skills on Hermione, but it had worked and she had calmed down. But, she had still asked him, no told him, to leave.
Standing in the driveway next to his motorcycle, Ron kicked at the air and screamed, "Dammit!" He was really starting to hate the Fates!
He stood contemplating for a moment whether he should just shrink the cycle and Apparate back to his and Harry's hotel room, or if he should go ahead and ride back into the city. When he remembered Harry telling him that they needed to play it cool and watch how they handled themselves in this situation, Ron opted to ride back. He hoped that the ride would clear his head a bit and that the extra time it took going about traveling the Muggle way would hopefully play in his favor and Harry would definitely be asleep when he arrived.
Ron diligently rubbed his face with his hands and sighed before mounting the Honda. "Harry is going to kill my sorry arse!" Ron said to no one before taking off.
'----------
With the events not too many hours before, Hermione was sure she'd have that awful nightmare of hers over and over again while she got what little sleep she could; however, when the morning dawned, she awoke from a dreamless sleep that she couldn't even remember falling into. As a matter of fact, the last thing she remembered was taking a few drinks of the tea that Mark had fixed for her after finding her in tears on the kitchen floor. 'It must've been some of that herbal tea of his that always calms me right down.'
Hermione rolled over and stretched only to realize that she wasn't in the queen-size guest bed but was in Emma's twin bed. As she sat up and stretched again, she thought that it was odd that Mark had put her in Emma's room instead of the guest room at the end of the hall. She always slept in the guest room when Joe would stay the night. Despite herself, she smiled slightly as she thought that Mark had probably wanted to keep her close so that he could hear her if she awoke from the nightmare. Sometimes he was just too much like a mother hen.
Suddenly Hermione felt the chill of anxiety wash over her as she thought back to the night before. It terrified her to think that Ronald had actually called her "Hermione." As far as she knew, no one in the States knew her real name, not even Mark or the Chase family. Perhaps he had recognized her from back home. He had looked slightly familiar to her but he hadn't acted like they had met before. Perhaps he was part of the political family that had murdered her parents and he had finally found her to kill her too.
She fell back onto the bed and covered her face with her hands. 'No! You are not going to do this!' She had to tell herself again for about the thousandth time since collapsing on the floor downstairs that she was panicking for no reason. Ron had sincerely looked as if he had no idea what he had done or said to cause such a reaction from her. Hermione had learned a long time ago to read people's level of honesty by watching their eyes when they spoke. Ron hadn't been lying. 'That or he's highly effective at lying.'
Frustrated with herself, Hermione jumped out of the bed and quickly began making it. She knew that she was overreacting. She had panicked because she had started feeling things that she couldn't ever remember feeling before with a man. She had been willing to give herself over so easily to a stranger and her subconscious had took over and created an irrational fear caused by mistaking a moan as something that it wasn't.
Once the bed was made, Hermione stood in the center of the room, shut her eyes and took three deep breaths. When she opened them again, she headed downstairs to put on a pot of coffee and to make some toast. She needed to get on the road soon if she was going to make it to Salem and back by a decent time this afternoon. She had a lot of work to do for one of her classes and wanted to make sure to be back in Boston before their evening meal.
Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, Hermione felt another wave of anxiety hit her and she squashed it. She vowed to herself to give it a rest because the situation was over with and it wouldn't do her or anyone else any good if she dwelled on it. Taking one more calming breath, Hermione headed for the kitchen to begin her day as if the night before never happened.
'----------
Ron awoke "the morning after" to the sound of the shower running and Harry singing, rather badly, an old Muggle tune. The first thought to cross his mind was that he hoped beyond hope that last night had been a horrific nightmare. Of course, he had been ecstatic about finding Hermione but was less pleased about how he had buggered things up. When he rolled over onto his back to stretch and was greeted with pain along his backside, Ron knew that last night had been very real.
Happy with the longer reprieve he was getting from having to tell Harry how things had turned out, Ron lay staring at the bright white ceiling, running through the events that took place at Hermione's not many hours ago. He cursed himself for being so stupid to let his guard down. Once again, she had managed to turn him into a bumbling idiot who was destined to say exactly the wrong thing, even if it was just simply her name.
Hearing the water shut off, Ron decided he should get out of bed and prepare for the inevitable chat with Harry. Ron knew that the conversation was not one he wanted to have while in the confines of the bed. That would simply make him much too easy a target for Harry to hex. Ron rolled out of bed, wincing at the pain in his arse, stood and stretched once more.
As he stretched, Ron caught sight of a magenta-colored piece of parchment lying on the chest of drawers. He felt his stomach start to knot because he knew right away, even without looking, that it was an official notice from the Department of Aurors. Ron assumed that it had something to do with their capture of Thomas Defoe, one of the last few remaining Death Eaters at large, and he assumed that the letter was probably going to instruct him to do something he didn't plan on doing anytime in the near future. Ron had just reached for the parchment when Harry walked out of the loo.
"You may not want to read that, mate."
Ron chuckled and picked up the memo anyway. "Yeah, I kinda figured that."
He read:
Omega Team – It pleases me to learn of the capture of fugitive Defoe. A portkey has been arranged for the team and your captive for ten o'clock local time on the morning of the eleventh at the Salem Portkey Authority Office. Be advised that upon return to the Ministry of Magic, team leaders are expected for debriefing. Their subordinates will accompany the captive to Azkaban.Again, gentlemen and Ms. Rosenberg, congratulations on a job well done.
Sincerely,
Kingsley Shacklebolt
Ron sighed and placed the parchment back onto the dresser top. This was exactly what he was expecting. His boss wanted him and his team back in London within the next three hours. Ron looked at Harry with a defeated look and said, "Well, looks like they won't be letting me lead anymore missions anytime soon, mate."
Harry chuckled. "You know, somehow, I don't really think you're all that broken up about it either." Ron smiled. "Especially since you're in the good graces of our best mate once again. I've got a feeling that once we get her back her memories, you're not going to want to leave her sight."
Ron felt his smile fade and the dread that had momentarily left him returned with a vengeance. Harry apparently noticed the abrupt change in his friends features because his own smile faltered and he was standing there eying Ron very cautiously.
"Ron, what did you do?"
Ron, who had intended to stay on his feet to keep moving, threw himself into one of the comfortable chairs near the balcony door and buried his face in his hands. "Shite, Harry, I really fucked things up," Ron spoke through his fingers.
Harry sighed and threw himself into the chair next to Ron's. "She's been back in your life for less than twelve hours and you've already had a row."
"It wasn't a row, per se."
Harry just looked at him pointedly. Ron knew that there was no way of getting around it now, so he told his best mate what had happened between him and Hermione the night before. Ron was pleased that Harry didn't once try to hex him.
When Ron was finished, Harry sighed and said, "You know, Ginny's going to hex you into next year." Ron, who had been avoiding looking directly at Harry, stared at him completely confused. 'What the hell does Ginny have to do with any of this?'
However, before Ron could voice the question, Harry answered it for him. "Especially when I tell her it was all your fault that I disobeyed a direct order to return to the Ministry so that I could stay behind and help you with the mess you had made with Hermione once again."
Ron suddenly felt horrid. "Harry, look. For me, nothing else matters besides Hermione. If I get sacked, I'll work something out 'cause I only have myself to worry about, for now. You've gotta think about Ginny and the baby."
"For starters, Shacklebolt isn't going to sack us. Especially not the great Harry Potter." Harry smirked and Ron glared at him. "We've looked so long for her, mate. I know how much you need her back in your and I'm not going anywhere until that's exactly where she is."
Ron looked down at his hand. "Thanks, mate. I really owe you one and trust me, I'll make sure that Ginny knows that it was completely my doing!"
Harry stood, clapped Ron and the shoulder and said, "You bet you will! Now, get yourself put together. We've got a house call to make in order to put Plan B into action."
"And exactly what is Plan B?"
"We go to her and tell her everything. It's our only shot now. She may not react very well to it, but if she's anything like her old self, she'll analyze all the information we give her and hopefully trust us."
Ron sighed once again and put his face into his hands. 'I hope Plan B works, because Plan C might end with me in Muggle prison for kidnapping.'
'----------
Hermione sat at a traffic light waiting for it to turn green. She really hated driving, especially up to Salem on a Sunday morning, and it didn't help matters that she was already in a foul mood from the night before. She hadn't even made it completely out of the driveway, when she had broken the vow to herself to not dwell on the previous night's events.
Driving in the car, even though she hated it, was one of the few times that she could ever be truly alone and this gave her time to reflect on things. Today, it gave her time to reflect on how tired she was of her life not making any sense, and of strange things happening to her (Just like sending Ron flying over the railing last night.), but most of all she was tired of living a lie. She was tired of living as Miranda Chase.
Dammit! She was Hermione Granger and that's who she wanted to be again. She wanted to pack up Emma and Daniel and even Mark and Joe and move back to England. She was tired of being in the States. Even though she settled in fairly well, she was tired of everything being so strange. She was tired of feeling like she was missing out on something by being here in Boston and not back in London.
Basically, though, she was just plain tired. Her plate was definitely overflowing and she usually tried to keep her spirits up in front of everyone, which was absolutely exhausting. She didn't want to be one of those people that drug others down with them. The Chase's oldest daughter had been that way for the first year that Hermione lived with them and she swore she'd never do that to anyone. But here, alone in her car, she could lose "the happy face" and could be sarcastic and angry and just plain foul and let the fatigue take over for the forty minutes it took her to get to the Chase residence.
As the light turned green and she started on her way once again, Hermione turned up the radio to sing along with one of the songs she was working on learning herself for the band and tried to find that happy face in the last three blocks to her destination. She really hoped that she could keep her patience with the kids today.
'----------
Ron and Harry stood at the back door to the house that Hermione shared with that blonde bloke from the bar. They had been standing, Ron slightly in front of Harry, staring at the door for a good minute before Harry finally spoke up.
"You sure this is the place, mate?"
"I'm sure."
"Are you going to knock?"
"Yeah," Ron continued standing staring at the door.
"Today?"
Ron shot Harry an icy glare before he took a deep breath and knocked on the door and waited. And waited.
And waited.
Ron was just about to turn to Harry and suggest that they maybe try to meet up with her again at the pub, when he heard the latch on the door being unlocked. His stomach churned violently and he was pleading that he not get sick all over her when the door opened and he was greeted with the sight of the big, blonde man from the night before. 'Mark's his name, right?'
"Is, er, Mira…"
Ron began but stopped short as Mark practically flew at him, knocking him back over the rail and once again on his arse. Ron scrambled to get to his feet and had just barely gotten there when Mark came bounding down the steps and toward him. Ron's natural instinct was to go for his wand, but thank goodness his wits were with him for once and he remembered that he was dealing with a Muggle. Ron ducked just in time to avoid his face making contact with the other bloke's fist.
"What the hell did you do to her, you bastard?" Ron was scared by the livid look in the other man's eyes and jumped back but not quick enough to miss getting hit the second time. The contact sent Ron falling to his hind side again.
"I found her on the floor in tears, asshole. So tell me what the fuck you did to her?" Mark was screaming and making another advance on Ron when Harry grabbed him from behind and attempted to stop the American's attacks. Luckily, Harry quickly got the upper hand and had pushed Mark to the ground away from Ron.
"Now, just settle down, mate!" Harry yelled at Mark. "You're not going to get any answers if you're pummeling him, now are you?"
All three men were now motionless except for breathing heavily. Ron was watching Mark very closely from his vantage point on the ground about fifteen meters away; Mark, who had also remained on the ground, was glaring between Harry and Ron; and Harry was bent over with his hands on his knees trying desperately to catch his breath. Ron knew that his mate would be complaining for hours now about being so out of shape.
Out of his peripheral vision, Ron saw Harry stand upright and run both his hands over his face and back through his hair as he often did when he was quite flustered. Ron was just about to look at his mate to silently apologize when he saw Mark's eyes go wide. Ron's brow furrowed as he watched the reaction of the man sitting on the ground across from him. Then his eyes went wide as well and Ron choked when he heard the man's next statement.
"Holy, shit! You're Harry Potter!"
A/N
As always, your reviews are not only welcomed...they're encouraged!
Also, I wanted to note that the next chapter is going to be a BIG one with lots of information about Mark and his relationship with "Miranda" as well as the introduction of Daniel and Emma and all that comes with that part of the story line. I'm also hoping to work in the initial explanation of the situation to Hermione. So in otherwords, this chapter is going to take some time and work and life in general the next couple of weeks is going to be pretty hectic. I'll work on the chapter as often as I can, but I wanted to let you all know that it may be a longer than normal before I can get it posted. Please, oh please, don't give up on me or my tale! I promise I'll make it worth the wait.
Happy Reading!