Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait!

Augusta

Chapter Four: Unexpected Conversations

Neither Katherine Mendoza or Hermione or Hermione's still disturbingly silent attorney made any further moves in the direction of actually getting papers filed or going to court or any of the other technicalities Ron had been expecting them to do as quickly as possible. It made him more nervous than if all three of them had been assailing him on an hourly basis. The only thing he could compare the feeling to was that of the night before battle: that feeling that he was standing beneath the crest of a wave that was going to come down and crush him sooner or later, probably sooner. It put him on edge, making him snap at any and all of his coworkers who spoke to him, no matter what they were saying. On Friday, he suddenly realized he had been yelling at his boss for five minutes without realizing who she was. Lavender took it in stride, though, and instead of showing him the door asked him, quite pleasantly, if he was trying to get fired.

"No," he said shortly, greatly embarrassed. "Lavender, I apologize, I do. That was uncalled for."

"It certainly was," Lavender said. "What's up?"

"My wife's leaving me, my lawyer just so happens to be one of her friends she likes to have tea and crumpets with, and all my surviving siblings have lost their minds. In short, the past seven years have finally come to a bloody head at a very inconvenient time."

Lavender stared. "Hermione...oh, I'm so sorry," she said, sounding as if it were genuine. "I always thought you two would work it out somehow, but then, I thought the same about Harry and Ginny and me and Seamus." She laughed shortly, fingering her wedding ring. Ron frowned. He had never heard of there being any disharmony between the Finnigans, but Lavender didn't seem to have realized she had said something strange and he thought it would be better just to let it slide. "I think it would have been better for us if the War had gone on forever, in some ways. Not every way, certainly, but in some." She shook her head. "Never mind. The issue is your-er-temper." She tilted her head back to look at him better. "My secretary was in hysterics after you told her good morning the other day. Magical Law Enforcement is about to fall off their little pedastals in shock over that fight you had with Bettina Mayes last week. You seriously need a vacation."

"I know, Lavender, but I don't have the time or money for one." His voice lowered almost to a whisper on that. It was still difficult to mention his family's delicate financial situation.

"You do now," Lavender said. "For the common good of everyone, especially you, you have now got the time to take a vacation. I don't want to see you back in this whole complex for at least a month. Call me an unusually generous boss. As for the money, don't worry about it. I'll pull some strings."

"I don't think the Minister is going to like that very much, Lavender."

"You leave the Minister to me," she said calmly. "I can handle the Minister. Every woman in the Ministry knows how to handle the Minister. All you have to do is flirt with him, though I hear Caryn Lyons got her position on the Wizengamot by sleeping with him. That's all rumor, of course. The Ministry is even more corrupt than it was when we were kids." She smiled almost fondly at the memories of their childhoods. "Anyway, I'll adjust the schedules. Finish up for today, then you're off until I say you aren't." She smiled.

"God bless you, Lavender," he said gratefully, turning back to the papers he had been studying before Lavender interrupted him.

"Oh, don't think I'm doing this without expecting something in return, Ron," she said. "I'm a woman. We always have alterior motives. You owe me dinner next week."

Ron wasn't entirely sure he was hearing right. "Lavender, you're married," he said, stating the obvious for lack of anything more creative.

"Yeah, and so are you," she said, shrugging. "Seamus has stood me up repeatedly over the past few weeks and Hermione's probably not around much if she's filing for divorce. I said I wanted you to take me to dinner, not come to bed with me." She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, you need to work on your technicalities, Ron. As long as kissing and sex are out of the picture, it's not cheating. At least not in my book. "

"I think I'll start reading your book," he said.

"So you will take me to dinner?"

"Why not? It'll be a talking point, at least. I can hear what all the gossips will be saying: old Ron Weasley, having an affair with his boss. It could be worse."

"You of all people should know that it could always be worse," Lavender said matter-of-factly.

Ron was only a little surprised when Harry actually did turn up for the game the next day. Dobby the Datebook had put it down as an appointment, and Ron had heard in interdepartment gossip at the Ministry that Harry was very good about keeping his appointments. The only thing about his appearance that surprised Ron was that he still had his priorities straight enough to make time for old school friends. Regardless of how strange his life grew, Harry was Harry.

The game was Chudley Cannons hosting Wimbourne Wasps. Lee Jordan, now the official commentator for all Quidditch games played in England or the Isles, was calling out player names when Harry frowned and leaned towards the radio. "Ron," he said slowly. "Do we know the commentator?"

Ron looked at his friend in puzzlement, trying to find the punch line of the joke, and then realized that Harry was serious. "Yeah, Harry," he said. "That's Lee. Lee Jordan. Remember? Dreadlocks, had a tarantula when we were in first year, Hogwarts commentator, good friends with Fred and George."

"Lee," Harry said, as if he had no clue what Ron was on about but was determined to bluff it out. "Was there ever anything to do with a statue of Gregory the Smarmy or something like that?"

"I don't know. I can't remember little things like that. It must not have been a very big joke."

"It's all jumbled up." Ron got the strangest feeling that Harry wasn't talking to him, so he didn't reply. Harry shook his head again, then shrugged. The Wasps scored a goal. "You still haven't given up on the idea the Cannons will win a game yet, Ron?"

"I'm still holding on to hope for them," he said. "I'm a Weasley. I support the Cannons because they're a once-great team in decline and the Weasleys are a once-great family on the decline." He jumped when Harry swore loudly.

"Dammit! Why can't I remember?" Once again Ron had the feeling that Harry wasn't talking to him, but this time he decided to answer.

"Is something up, Harry?"

"I'm not insane, not yet anyway," Harry said bluntly, seeing straight through the rather feeble cover just as Ron had known he would. "I had an...accident...a few years ago, all very covered up, no press. My memory's been messed up ever since. I only remember snatches of the past, and I forget things a lot. The only thing I have total recall of is the one thing I'd like to forget most-the War.It's funny-I can remember to go somewhere and how to get there, but the next day I won't remember going. If I didn't have Kate and Dobby, I don't know how I'd manage." He shrugged as if walking around without a clue where you had just been was of no consequence.

"Kate?"

"Kate Mendoza. She's my lawyer, but she's also nice enough to tell me what in the hell I've been doing. Her version of it, anyway." He laughed shortly. "Kate's a self-seeking woman, but I am fond of her."

"Mendoza!" Ron said, staring. "Don't tell me Katherine Mendoza works for you, too!"

"Call her Katherine and you'll find out that she hits hard," Harry said. "She hates that name."

"I think she just hates everything in general," Ron said. "Hermione hired her as my divorce attorney."

"Oh, God," Harry said, choking on a laugh. "You're in for one hell of a time. Kate won't be happy until you are completely and totally at her mercy, then she'll start being nice and sisterly. It's the Spanish in her." Harry said it almost fondly!

"Please do not tell me you and Mendoza are an item, Harry."

"We were about two years ago," Harry said matter-of-factly. "You get comfortable with a person when that person happens to act as your memory. Didn't last, though. We're neither of us the sort to get attatched, though Kate is my self-declared sister now."

"There'll be a family feud if she ever decides she wants to be my sister," Ron said. "My opinion of Katherine or Kate or Mendoza or whatever the hell she wants to be called is that she's a card-carrying, unredeemable member of the bitch club."

"She'll be a bitch for the first six months you know her or until you get into real trouble. If the six months runs out, then she becomes charming. If you get in trouble, she's a princess, she really is. I know from personal expirience." Ron noticed that Harry didn't mention what sort of trouble he had gotten into. "Birdy's ten now, isn't she?" he asked suddenly. It took Ron a minute to remember that Harry had always, for reasons that eluded her father, called Helena Birdy.

"Yeah, ten and a quarter," he said. "Why?"

"She'll be at Hogwarts next fall, then...I probably won't survive the next seven years, between her and Luciana Malfoy."

"Who's Luciana Malfoy?"

"Our old friend Draco's daughter," Harry said matter-of-factly. "She starts next year, too. Illegitimate, but they say she's as haughty as any other pureblood. The Malfoy strain, you know. Her mother was one of the Wright girls, making her, sadly, one of my cousins. My paternal grandmother was a Wright."

"Dear God," Ron groaned. "Lena, a Malfoy, and seven years. You'll be old before your time, my friend, especially since you teach the class where they get to learn hexes and such."

"Oh, well," Harry said, shrugging. "It might as well be Birdy who gives me gray hairs as the next one."

"She's a good kid," Ron said. "Can't believe she's mine, sometimes." It was true. He had never understood Helena one little bit, but he loved her to the point of jumping in front of a train for her if need be, or the other three. He never ceased to marvel at everything they did, trying to figure out how on earth they got their looks, their personalities, their eccentric habits. Sometimes, when Chloe and Adam got into one of their spectacular fights, he was twenty years younger watching Fred and Percy go at it. When Helena was curled up on the couch with a new book, serious and so concentrated she hardly knew what was going on around her, he could swear he was back at Hogwarts and Hermione was rereading Hogwarts, A History for the hundreth time in the common room. Nicky's endearing habit of pronouncing the letter "c" as "t" was pure Ginny, though she had outgrown it before she was quite as big as Nicky. In those four, he could find all the people who time and death and tragedy had taken away from him again, even Percy and his parents, if he looked hard enough.

Harry's next comment came out a blue sky. "If I asked you to do something for me that might lead to Ginny...er...becoming rather upset with both of us, would you even consider it?"

Ron stared. "Huh?"

"I've been waiting on her to come out with her little secret for four years," Harry said, his voice perfectly calm but the harsh marks of tension very clear in his face. "Her dirty secret, you might say. You know what I'm talking about, though I don't blame you for keeping your mouth shut. I would have, in your shoes. After all, she is your sister." Harry's smile was very sardonic. "Yes, Ginny was smart to keep clear those first two years, you know. I would have reacted as a man rather than as a politician if she hadn't."

"Mate, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"What?" It was Harry's turn to stare. "You're serious? She never told you? I would have thought you'd be the only person Ginevra would trust with that particular piece of information."

Ron shook his head. "Gin's been distant ever since Fred and George...you know..."

"Died," Harry supplied helpfully. "Yes, that did change things for all of us, some more than others." That was too much to let pass.

"Harry, what in the hell's going on?"

Harry laughed without a trace of amusement. "Ask Kate, ask Hermione. Hell, ask Ginny if you've got the nerve. But don't ask me. I don't remember a damn thing about what happened except that something did happen." There was a pause, then Harry seemed to visibly relax, as if making an effort to remove the element of tension that had become prevalent. "How's Amelia, anyway?" he asked.

Ron wasn't willing to drop the prior subject so easily, but something told him he didn't have much of a choice. "Amelia's as well as she ever is these days," he said. His sister-in-law was almost as depressing a topic as Fred and George, given that she was George's widow. No one had a clue who Amelia was or how she came to be involved with George Weasley. George had just brought her around for dinner one evening and thrown in that they were married during dessert. Not even Fred had known about her beforehand. Less than a month later, Fred and George were both dead and Amelia had never gotten over it. "Last time I saw her was about two months ago, but I know she's not dead because Fleur hasn't told me the date of her funeral yet. As long as Amelia's alive, she's doing well."

"With her, I guess you're right. I'll have to drop in some time. I'll drag her to all of this summer's galas and art openings to resocialize her or something." Harry stood, glancing at his watch. "I've got a meeting with some German-" a vague waving-aside gesture said quite plainly that Harry didn't recall who the German was or what he had to do with anything-"who has some offer in about fifteen minutes," he said. "You'll have to tell me who won sometime." It took Ron a minute to realize that Harry was talking about the Quidditch match.

"Sure," he said. "Come back sometime."

"If I remember," Harry said, his voice heavy with irony.

For the remainder of the Quidditch match, Ron was so preoccupied with trying to analyze all the half-facts he had been presented with that he never realized the Cannons had somehow pulled ahead until Lee Jordan announced that they had just won their first game in years.