Author's Note: Just to clear up any confusion, I am not intending for any of the characters to be what is termed 'out of character'. They've just changed because of all the stuff they've been through. Not sure if that's explained clearly enough in the story, so I thought I'd note it.

Augusta

Chapter Two: A Day Off

Ron firecalled in sick to work the next morning, deciding that while it wouldn't kill the department to do without him for a day, he might just kill someone in the department if he didn't take his first day off in about six months. The kids, quiet and subdued by their mother's sudden and unexplained absence, ate their breakfast without the usual fussing and didn't complain when he told them they'd be spending the day with Aunt Fleur. Bill and Fleur had decided that his work at the bank brought in enough for Fleur to be a housewife for at least the time being, meaning that the French belle became the family babysitter almost overnight.

Fleur looked surprised to see him. "Ron? What is it?" Fleur's English might have been much better than it had been when he met her, but she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. " Has something 'appened?"

"Nothing more than the usual Weasley Drama of the Week," Ron said, trying to sound light. "It's my turn to be the tragic hero again. Hermione's...having one of her episodes." For some reason, he didn't want to tell Fleur and the rest of the family that Hermione had finally walked out for good just yet. They would all know soon enough anyway. "Can you look after the kids for a few hours?"

Fleur winced. "Ah! Yes, of course I will look after the little ones. Hermione should not do this so often, Ron. Why does she do it? It does not make sense to me."

"It makes perfect sense to me, Fleur. Hermione can't stand who she is and what her place in the world is, so she tries to escape from it. She's not the same woman I married."

"It will be well in the end," Fleur said with a pathetic attempt at sounding reassuring.

"Of course," he said, giving his sister-in-law a smile that felt more like a grimace. "I won't be long-there's someone I have to see."

"Take your time," Fleur said. "We all get along very well, don't we, children?"

"Yes, Aunt," they chorused. Nicky ran to her and hugged her skirts and Fleur smoothed his auburn hair affectionatley. Helena, Chloe, and Adam were more reserved, but they were clearly as happy as their younger brother to be somewhere that was still the way it was the day before. Fifteen minutes later, Ron was ringing the doorbell to a house he hadn't entered in almost four years.

"How may I help you this-" the maid who opened the door began, then she saw his hair. "Oh, you're a Weasley." She slammed the door in his face.

"Bette, open the door." He hadn't expected his last name to win him any favors; Harry hadn't seemed to hold much of a grudge over Ginny eloping to Germany with Colin Creevey, but the servants, all of whose families had served the wealthier branches of the Potters for two generations at least, had been up in arms against any and everyone associated with the Weasleys.

"You're not welcome here," Bette shouted back.

"Bette, I had nothing to do with my sister skipping town. I was beginning the process of becoming a hopeless workaholic when she did that, so I didn't have time to find out what was up with Ginny. Just open the door. I need to talk to Harry."

The door opened a crack, revealing Bette's scowling face. "What for?"

"Old times. It's important."

"Wait here. I'll have to clear it with Dobby." Bette was about to slam the door again when he caught it.

"Dobby? Not Dobby the house-elf?"

"Weasley, I never knew until now that you were a genius. What other Dobby is there? He's chief of staff." While Bette was explaining something Ron already knew, he managed to wrench the door away from her and get inside.

"If I'm going to be kept waiting," he said impatiently. "Then the least you can do for me is let me do so is out of the sun. It's August and hot, if you haven't noticed."

Bette's scowl deepened. He could tell she had meant to leave him on the doorstep until he gave up and went away. "All right, Weasley," she snapped. "You win. Follow me." He still remembered his way around, but he decided that it would be better to keep his mouth shut for the time being.

"Dobby, Weasley here wants to see Mr. Potter," Bette said shortly to the house-elf when they reached Harry's second-floor office.

The house-elf smiled widely, though he didn't jump up as he once would have. Age and more and more time being free had calmed Dobby down a little from the way he had been when Ron was in school. "Wheezy!" he said.

"Dobby, are you ever going to learn to say my name properly?"

"Dobby probably is not, sir, though Dobby will try. How does sir wish for his name to be said?"

"Weasley. Or you can just call me Ron, you've certainly known me long enough."

"Dobby will try to remember. What can Dobby do for you, sir?" Bette cleared her throat loudly with disapproval and Dobby looked at her. "Yous can go back to your work now, Bette. Dobby will take care of it now." Bette bobbed her head reluctantly and left.

"I need to talk to Harry, Dobby. It's sort of important."

"Harry Potter is in a meeting with Miss Gabrielle right now, sir, though Dobby is sure he will see you after that," the elf said reassuringly. "He is often saying to Dobbyhow much he misses his old friends."

"Do not try to guilt trip me, Dobby. Who's Miss Gabrielle?"

"She is being a French friend of Harry Potter's." Dobby said it very matter-of-factly, as if he saw nothing unusual about a get-together with a friend being called a meeting, and Ron realized he and Hermione hadn't been the only ones to change. Fifteen years ago, Harry would have thought the idea ridiculous. Ron heard feminine laughter from the room beyond.

Harry with a girlfriend. Hermione's probaby ready to have a cow. There wasn't much doubt in Ron's mind that his estranged wife had hidden herself away here, the same as always. The only difference between this time and all the others would be the end result more than it would be the details. Hermione only had one friend in the world besides her soon-to-be ex, and that was Harry. There wasn't really anywhere else she could go when she decided to run away from home. Ron found it strangely ironic that he, the hotheaded, bitter poor boy had been the one to settle down, and Hermione, the calm, collected civil rights activist had been the one to become a social climber. War and marriage did funny things to the head, sometimes, unless they were all just nutters to begin with.

Fifteen minutes later, a tall, slim woman with silver-white hair like Fleur's walked out of the office, smiling to herself. Ron got a look at her face and immediately changed his mind about his small scruples over his best friend finally giving up on Ginny ever coming back. Gabrielle had looks to die for, the same stunning, Veela-like beauty that Fleur possessed. France apparently had a higher number of part-Veela citizens than he had originally thought. She bid Dobby goodbye but didn't seem to notice Ron. In any other Wizarding home, that would have been considered absolute lunacy, but Harry wasn't quite like any other wizard of their times. He did things his own way-the one respect in which he definitely had not changed.

Dobby darted into the office. Ron could hear his squeaking voice saying something, then he reappeared. "Yous can go in now, Wheezy," Dobby said, apparently already forgetting his agreement to try to remember Ron's name.

Whatever Ron had been expecting, it wasn't what he found. In a sharp contrast to Gabrielle, who had been dressed to the nines, Harry looked almost relaxed in jeans and a sweater Ron recognized as being knitted by his own mother. He also looked much older than he had the last time they had met. "Harry?"

"This is a surprise," Harry said, straigtening his glasses. "Sit down." Ron noticed that the old scar that had made him famous had still not faded after all these years. He laughed.

"I'm as surprised as you are, believe me. Never thought I'd have the guts to show my face here again."

"I never held how the marriage-er-ended against the family, Ron. I still consider the Weasleys to be the closest thing to kin I'll ever have."

"We don't hold it against you either." Ron fished around for something to change the subject with. "Who was the woman?"

"You mean Gabrielle? We're friends." Ron raised an eyebrow and Harry laughed. "Really, Ron, nothing else. I wouldn't subject Gabrielle to the horrors of a romantic relationship with me."

"How'd you meet?"

"Technically, we met when you and I were in fourth year. Gabrielle Delacour was the hostage Fleur was unable to reach, so..." Harry shrugged with an apologetic grin. "I played hero and saved her. We met again at an art opening during the Christmas holidays."

"She's Fleur's sister? All I remember about that day is Fleur kissing us and Hermione getting jealous. What were you doing at an art opening?"

"I teach classes for most of the year and then I attend art openings and galas during the holidays. I've got myself a real double life nowadays. As for Fleur kissing us, I remember that well enough. Gabrielle joined Colin and Ginny in hero-worshipping me from then on out. I think it rather surprised her to discover I was human." A sudden silence fell when it hit them both that Harry had mentioned Colin and Ginny. It was Harry who broke it. "How are they these days, anyway?" He tried to sound offhanded but failed miserably. He might not have loved Ginny anymore, but that apparently hadn't stopped it from bothering him that she had disappeared from his life entirely.

"Colin's got a big job photographing old magical sites in Rome for the Magical Historian. Ginny is thoroughly enjoying travelling the world with him, sending us letters from more countries than I can remember with pictures and calling herself Ginevra. They're all right." Ron hesitated, but then decided that this was as good an opening into what he had meant to talk about as he was going to get. "Harry-I really don't have any right to ask this, but don't bite my head off anyway-what was it like when you and Gin got divorced?"

He thought Harry wasn't going to answer for a minute. "Pure hell. That's the best description I can come up with. We never should have married in the first place, not the way we did, and I certainly didn't think of Ginny as much besides a sister in the end,but I guess I just got used to being married to her. I don't think I would have minded so much if she'd been straight with me from the beginning, but..." Harry shrugged again. "So it goes in my melodramatic life. Why?"

"Hermione's pulling the same stunt as we speak." Harry's brows drew together sharply.

"What?"

"I come home from work yesterday and find the house quiet as a tomb. Helena comes up, says Hermione left, reminds me once again that the task of taking care of her sister and brothers fell on her in the absense of proper parents, and then handed me a note from Hermione informing me that her attorney would be in touch."

Harry winced sympathetically. "Ouch. Do you know where she is? Maybe I could go talk some sense into her."

Ron stared. He could tell Harry wasn't covering for Hermione-he really didn't know where she was. "I thought she was here," he said finally. "This is where she always comes when she has one of her episodes."

"She knew I'd talk her out of it," Harry muttered, more to himself than Ron. "She was determined to have her way this time and she knew I'd talk her out of it."

"What do you mean?"

"Hermione always comes barging in here like I'm her shrink instead of her friend, raving that she's had it, she's getting a divorce and nothing's going to stop her. First I give her some cognac to calm her nerves, then I start talking about something totally unrelated until she's unwound a bit. I then put her through the one-week fail-safe Harry Potter Temporary Affect Marriage Saving Program and she returns to her husband and children until the next time she decides to go a bit psycho on us.It's almost as mundane as murder attempts now."

"So you're the reason we've held on this long."

"Not really. I just periodically remind Hermione of how much she loves you and the kids. That's all. "

"Why?"

"Because in spite of everything, Ron-Ginny, Fred, George, the whole fiasco we three have called lives-I still think of you two idiots as the best friends I have ever had or ever will have." For a moment it was almost as if more than three long years of not speaking out of mutual chaotic lives and a mutual feeling of discomfort after the whole Ginny affair had never happened, then Dobby stuck his head around the door.

"Harry Potter, sir, the Deputy Minister is here."

"All right, Dobby," Harry said, retreating into his role of the schoolteacher-politician with an ease he had never had in the early years he had been forced to play such roles, especially the second. "It was good seeing you again, Ron."

"Yeah. I'll see you, mate." He was almost out the door when a thought struck him. "Hey, Harry, what're you doing this Saturday?"

Harry seemed confused by the question. "Nothing right now, but I expect that my schedule will be full by the time Saturday gets here."

"Forget that, it's being filled now. You and I are going to drink beer, talk women, and listen to Quidditch like we did in the old days."

Harry looked momentarily surprised, then grinned. "You're on. We've both more than earned a day off from what I can tell."