Yami boy
Thanks for always taking the time to review :-)

tigress33
What Hermione is researching will come out slowly. I'm afraid there will be more clue dropping and a little testing the waters with Ron to see how he'll react before she actually breaks down and explains the whole thing to him. That happens in chaps 28-29 I believe.

Haystack8190
No need to be suspicious. I have every intention of finishing the story. Although it does take me longer than a day or two to actually pop out a new chapter. As you can see they are long and the plot is pretty intricate and well... they take a while, but I'll continue to write.

Arwentheelf
Well how often I update varies really. I have 41 chapters finished, so right now I update every couple days here at FFnet. Once I hit chapter 41, the wait will get longer. It usually takes me anywhere from a week and a half to 2 weeks to finish a new chapter. New chapters will be posted at Checkmated first for several reasons. 1. That's the site most people check first. 2. I don't have to edit down the sexual aspects, so I can post the chapters as they are meant to be. 3. That is where my beta is. Once she's read it and made the necessary corrections, I'll eventually post it over here. So an estimate on chapters after 41, is about every two weeks or so give or take a couple days.

Chapter 22

As Mrs. Weasley exited the kitchen and walked up the stairs to the ground floor, she couldn't help but think about how silent the house was. It was something she was sure she'd never get used to. It was so unlike her own home, which was cozy and bustling with activity. Even with the chaos caused by various members of the Order popping in and out unannounced, Number 12 Grimmauld Place, with it's many floors and boundless rooms, simply felt unnatural to her.

She missed her own home. She missed her own kitchen. She missed sleeping in her own bed. But it couldn't be helped right now. Keeping her children safe was much more important than where she had to sleep. But there were days she wondered if they would ever truly be safe, even at Hogwarts. And when they did go back to school, would it be safe for her and Arthur to return to the Burrow? If he couldn't get his hands on Harry, Hermione or Ron, would he come after her or her husband?

Better me then my children, Molly thought as she approached the parlor near Mrs. Black's portrait, and peered inside the open door to see how much progress Ginny and Hermione had made cleaning the grime off the filthy hardwood floors. She had set the girls to work, knowing that they would be able to accomplish the task without disturbing the wretched painting that hung just on the other side of the wall. She hadn't expected them to finish so quickly, but they obviously had. The room was now empty and the floor was spotless.

They must have gone up to help Ron scrub the fixtures in the bathroom, Mrs. Weasley told herself as she began climbing the stairs to check their work. That tub is a job in and of itself. It will take ages for him to scour all those stains off the surface. But it's getting late, she noted, as she glanced out one of the dingy windows overlooking the street and noticed the daylight waning. Arthur and the boys will be home from work soon. They've earned a bit of rest. They can finish it up tomorrow, Mrs. Weasley thought,as she walked past the open door of the girls' bedroom.

Her daughter's bright red hair caught her eye as she walked past the room, causing Mrs. Weasley to halt and step back until she was standing in the doorway. Ginny was lying on her stomach in the middle of her bed, her feet in the air, quill in her hand, busily writing on a sheet of parchment.

"Where is your brother?" she asked, staring into the room as if she expected Ron to pop out of one of the wardrobes.

"How should I know?" Ginny replied, looking up from the letter she was composing. "I'm not his keeper."

"Where is Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley demanded, hoping to get a less ambiguous answer this time around.

"She's probably with Ron," Ginny said, dipping her quill in her bottle of ink and dropping her eyes down to the parchment once more. "Last time I saw her, she was going to help him clean."

"Why didn't you go with her?"

"I finished my chores," Ginny said, looking up at her mother defiantly. "I'm not doing his too."

"Apparently I'm not giving you enough of them then," Mrs. Weasley shot back at her daughter. Everything has to be a fight with you, doesn't it? You've been difficult ever since I refused to let you visit Harry with your brothers. Well it isn't going to work. "I'll just add a few more to tomorrow's list, shall I?" Mrs. Weasley asked, watching Ginny's mouth fall open in indignation. She waited a moment longer to see if her daughter was going to argue, but Ginny seemed to catch herself mid-stream and bit back her comment. Pursing her lips, Ginny muttered something unintelligible under her breath as she glared down at her letter.

"What's that?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "I didn't quite catch what you said."

"I said fine," Ginny replied angrily. Add all you want to the bloody list. The more you add, the slower I am going to work.

"That's what I thought you said," her mother replied, as she left the doorway to seek out Ron and Hermione. She had just decided to start her search with his room, when she heard hushed voices coming from the drawing room.

Relieved that they hadn't squirreled themselves away somewhere secretive and reassured by the fact they were talking, which meant they weren't doing other things, Mrs. Weasley hesitated, no longer certain if she ought to pop her head in the room and check on them or not. It was the position of the door that finally settled the matter. True, it wasn't completely closed, but Ron knew that a two-inch gap didn't equate an open door.

How many times do I have to tell him? she asked herself, as she approached the door and glances inside. As she expected, they were seated together on the sofa. Ron had wedged himself in the corner, using the armrest for added support while Hermione reclined against him. For a moment, Mrs. Weasley was torn. The scene in front of her was so intimate that she felt it would be wrong to eavesdrop on their private conversation. On the other hand,she thought when Ron gathered Hermione's hair up in his hand, bared her neck, and leaned forward to kiss it. The conversation appears to be over.

Had the two teenagers known that she was in the doorway, it probably would have ended there. As they didn't, Hermione turned her head just enough to allow Ron access to her lips. The kiss was gentle and would have been nothing to get overly worked up about, had it ended. The problem was, it didn't. Rather then break away, Hermione simply shifted her body into a more comfortable position as the kiss deepened.

Mrs. Weasley had seen enough. But just as she was about to walk into the room and prevent anything more serious from happening, her husband stopped her.

"Molly?" he whispered in an accusatory manner, as he came up behind her. " What are you doing?" he continued, glancing over her shoulder into the room himself to see what she was looking at. Not waiting for her to answer, he reached for her arm and started steering her away from the door.

"Arthur? What are you doing? Let go," she protested, as she tried to swat his hand away.

"Leave them be," Mr. Weasley chuckled, placing his hand on his wife's back instead and pushing her further down the hallway. "Let them enjoy at least part of their summer."

"But, dinner is almost ...," she started to protest.

"They'll come down when they're hungry," Mr. Weasley replied, knowing full well that it wasn't dinner she was worried about.

"That's not the point."

"No, it isn't, is it?" he replied, gazing at his wife knowingly.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Mrs. Weasley asked, sounding somewhat defensive.

"Molly, you can't keep them from growing up."

"I'm not trying to."

Mr. Weasley arched one eyebrow at her as if to say, 'Aren't you?' and then he responded, "Ron isn't the first one to have a girlfriend, love."

"It isn't the same thing Arthur, and you know it."

"Yes, I do," he admitted. "We both knew this was likely to happen. Don't pretend it isn't what you wanted."

"But it's too soon," Mrs. Weasley replied. "They are too young."

"Charlie was younger then they are when you caught him and the Fawcett girl going at it in that out of the way corner of Flourish and Blotts. You didn't react like this."

"That was different," Mrs. Weasley insisted.

"And that is what is really bothering you, isn't it?" her husband asked.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"It isn't ridiculous," he replied. "It's only natural that you'd feel this way. I know Ron and Ginny are the youngest, but they aren't children anymore. I realize it is hard to let go, but you are going to have to find a way to do it. He'll be of age in a few months, Molly. Old enough to join the Order."

"He can't join the Order," Mrs. Weasley said sharply. "He's still in school."

"Old enough to make his own decisions," he continued, purposely ignoring his wife's comment. "Besides, this isn't really anything new. Hermione has been looking after him since he were 11 years old. Just because he depends on her, doesn't mean he needs you any less. You are always going to be his mother."

"This is absurd. They haven't even gone on a proper date yet."

"So you don't think they are serious then?" Mr. Weasley asked, even though he knew the answer. "You don't think it will last? People said that about us, you know?"

"It was different with us," she protested. "We weren't caught up in the middle of a war. They are too young to handle this much responsibility."

"I'll grant you that they've had to handle more then anyone their age ought to," he admitted. "But I think they've done a pretty good job of it so far."

"But it is only going to get worse," she argued. "Something will have to give."

"And you are afraid it will be their relationship?"

"They have enough to worry about already. Trying to maintain a serious relationship will only add too it."

"I disagree," Mr. Weasley replied. "I know you have been watching them, but I think you've missed what is going on in front of you. They're comforting each other, Molly. Look at what they've been through in the past few months and how they have bounced back. They depend on each other and you need to let them spend time alone together. You must have noticed how Ron has been behaving ever since you started interfering."

"I am not interfering," Mrs. Weasley said defensively.

"So you haven't been checking up on them?" her husband asked. "You haven't been sending the twins in to interrupt? You didn't suggest Bill have a talk with him and then question him about how serious things were between them?"

"So what if I did? I'm his mother. I have every right to be concerned," she shot back as she placed her hands on her hips and squared herself for a fight. "I love that girl, Arthur. If they rush into things they aren't ready for, they could ruin everything."

"Meaning if it doesn't work out, it will ruin all your plans?" Mr. Weasley replied calmly. "You can't live his life for him, Molly. I know you have your heart set on Hermione being part of the family. We'd all like that to happen someday, but that isn't our decision to make. You have to step back and let them make their own choices. Even if they makes a few mistakes in the process."

"I just want them to be happy," she replied with a sigh.

"I know you do, love, but you aren't doing them any favors. Hermione is a good girl and she knows how to handle Ron. Trust her to keep him in check and stop interfering. You'll do more harm than good if you don't."

"But..."

"You have to let them make their own mistakes, Molly. It's the only way they will learn. Either it will make them stronger or it won't. Only time will tell."

Much to Molly's surprise, Ron and Hermione were actually the first ones to wander into the kitchen for dinner.

"Whatever you're making smells great, Mum," Ron said, as he came up behind her to see what she was cooking. "When's it going to be ready? I'm starved." As if on cue, his stomach growled loudly, triggering a soft giggle from Hermione.

"When are you not starving?" she asked, as she grabbed a stack of plates off the dresser against the wall and started setting the table.

"After I've eaten," Ron replied, reaching for the sliced bread his mother had left on the counter only to have his hand smacked away. "Just one piece?" he whined.

"Anything else we can do to help?" Hermione asked, returning to the dresser to retrieve the silverware.

"Actually," Mrs. Weasley said, whirling around to face Ron. "You could go get your sister and your father."

"Do I have to?" he asked, looking thoroughly put out.

"Yes, and I better not hear you shouting from the bottom of the staircase, either."

"What about Bill?" Ron asked as he walked towards the door.

"What about him?" his mother replied.

"Am I supposed to get him too?"

"Unless you plan on taking his dinner up and serving it to him in his room," Mrs. Weasley said.

When Ron returned from his task, he was surprised to find Fred and George not only seated at the table, but already eating. Not bothering to say anything, he fell down in the chair directly across from Hermione and started loading his plate up with food.

"Nice of you to wait for the rest of us," Ginny said, as she entered the room and sat down beside Hermione.

"Wha?" George muttered, his mouth so crammed, it was impossible for him to say much else.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Mrs. Weasley scolded, as her husband and eldest son walked into the room and took a seat.

"Sorry, Mum," George replied.

"What have you done now?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Nothing," George said quickly.

"A likely story," Bill chuckled while he served himself.

"Fine, don't believe me then."

"Tough day, Dad?" Fred asked, noticing the haggard expression his father was wearing.

"It's been an absolute nightmare," Mr. Weasley replied. "And Fudge certainly didn't help matters any. Looks like a right fool now, doesn't he?" he continued.

"It's his own fault really. Trying to pin the...er... incident on Krum in the first place," Bill added.

"It probably would have worked too, if Hermione hadn't strong armed him into letting Krum go," Fred laughed.

Unlike Fred, Hermione didn't find the comment very amusing. There was absolutely nothing funny about the situation. I wish they'd drop it, she thought, as she glanced at Ron apprehensively. He froze for a split second, the potato chunk he was about to eat suspended in midair. But he recovered so quickly that she doubted anyone else had seen it.

Feeling her eyes on him, Ron looked up and met her gaze as he resumed eating.

"Well, he had no business leaking that story to the press in the first place. Seeing as how it was all a pack of lies," Mrs. Weasley said as she reached for a slice of bread. "Arthur, dear? Have you sorted out that little matter with the Department of Magical Transportation yet?"

"Er...well, you see...," Mr. Weasley stammered.

"I know you've been swamped, dear but..."

"No that isn't the problem," he informed his wife. "I've tried talking to them a couple of times actually, but Margaret Edgecombe is being rather stubborn about the matter. She's a strong supporter of Fudge, don't you know?"

"OH!" Hermione said, as comprehension blazed suddenly across her face. "I'm sorry Mr. Weasley. I didn't realize she worked in that department. If I had known...well, please don't waste anymore of your time trying to talk to her."

"You know Margaret Edgecombe?" Bill asked, caught more then a little off guard.

"Not personally," Hermione replied.

"Even so, she's not likely to forget you anytime soon." Ginny sniggered.

"I know I probably shouldn't ask," Bill said, "but what did you do to her?"

"I didn't do anything," Hermione stated truthfully.

"No," Ron agreed with a smirk. "That deceitful daughter of hers, has no one to blame but herself."

"Edgecombe?" Fred replied, finally cottoning on. "I knew that name sounded familiar."

"The Sneak's mother," George laughed. "Rotten luck, Hermione."

"Do you think she still has those pimples?" Fred chortled.

"I'm sure of it," Hermione replied, looking both embarrassed and pleased with herself. "And she'll have them for a good long time too."

"Maybe you two could swing a deal," Fred suggested.

"Yeah. I bet she'd over look the fine if you agreed to lifted that jinx," George added.

"I'd rather pay the fine," Hermione stated. "Besides, I couldn't lift the jinx even if I wanted to."

"You mean she's stuck like that forever?" Fred cackled.

"A leopard doesn't change its spots," Ron replied with a knowing smile.

"No, there is a way to get rid of them," Hermione informed the twins. "But it isn't something anyone else can do for her. She has to do it on her own."

"What do you mean?" George asked curiously.

"Well, even if she does have to lift it herself," Fred said, "you've still got the counter curse to barging with."

"There is no counter curse," Ron informed his brothers. "Once a sneak, always a sneak."

"But you just said...," George replied.

"Oh, she can get rid of them," Hermione stated quickly, "but not with a counter curse. That's the beauty of the spell. The only way to get rid of the word is to stop being a ..."

"...lying, backstabbing, deceitful little spy," Ron finished for her.

"Well, I was going to say sneak," Hermione stated, "but Ron is basically right. The only way to get rid of the spots, is to prove that you are trustworthy."

"And that's not going to happen," Ron scoffed.

"It doesn't matter," Hermione said. "My parents will pay it when they get back from their holiday."

"That's not the point," Bill said. "You shouldn't have to pay it at all. Not given the circumstances."

"It doesn't matter," Hermione said again. "I don't care," she added, even though strictly speaking, it wasn't the truth. Bill was right. It wasn't the money so much as the principal of the matter that bothered her. Not that she was about to admit it. She didn't want to rock the boat any more then necessary. The Minister of Magic was already unhappy with her. If she continued to make trouble, he might take it out of Mr. Weasley. Luckily the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Remus Lupin.

If Mr. Weasley looked a little weary, Lupin looked positively exhausted when he sat down at the table. His skin was pale, his eyes were bloodshot, and Hermione noticed there were dark circles under them. Not surprising really, considering there had been a full moon the night before.

Mrs. Weasley immediately rose up out of her chair so she could get him a plate.

"No, Molly," Lupin protested before she managed to take a step. "I already ate, but thank you."

Ignoring him, Mrs. Weasley retrieved a plate, then returned to the table, and served his dinner to him. "You should eat again," she said, plopping the meal down in front of him. "It will do you good."

"No, I'm fine really," he protested.

He doesn't look fine, Hermione thought, as she watched him run his fingers through his hair. She had just started to contemplate whether Snape was still making the Wolfsbane Potion for him, when Ron's question drew here attention.

"How is Harry, Professor?" Ron asked, knowing the Lupin had volunteered to spend the afternoon 'guarding' him.

"Quiet," Lupin replied and then went silent himself. "He seemed to come out of it a bit after I gave him your letters," he added, coming back to himself. "He said he'd send one back with George tomorrow."

"Oh, speaking of letters," Mr. Weasley said, reaching into his robes and pulling out a small bundle of envelops. "I believe these are yours," he continued, handing the letters to Hermione.

The owls had started arriving at Grimmauld Place almost as soon as she did. One more nuisance to deal with, courtesy of the Daily Prophet and their ridiculous articles. Luckily, Dumbledore had placed restrictions on owl deliveries so as not to draw undue attention to the house, so it was a simple matter for Molly to magically forward the letters being sent by well wishers to the Ministry. Every couple days, Mr. Weasley would pick them up and deliver them to her personally. Why he continued to do it, she didn't know. He knew she had no intentions of reading them. She never read them. Even Fred and George had lost interest in them by now.

At least there's isn't as many this time, she thought, as she untied the bundle and started flipping through the envelops just to make certain there was nothing important, like a letter from her parents, mixed in with the ones sent to her by strangers. Harry told me to ignore them, she reminded herself, and that eventually they'd stop sending them. It's about time they stop...

It was the sharp intake of breath that caught Ron's attention, causing him to look away from Lupin and over at Hermione. "What is it?" he asked, when he noticed she was staring down at the letter in her hand as if it were a howler.

"N..Nothing," she replied quickly, but rather then toss it on the pile of letters to be discarded, she slipped it to the bottom of the pile in her hand so he wouldn't see who it was from.

"If it's nothing then why didn't you throw it in that pile with the others?" Ron asked, eyeing her suspiciously. "It's from him, isn't it?"

Without warning, Fred and George cut off their conversation with Bill, and spun around in their chairs, staring at Ron so they wouldn't miss any of the fireworks.

Ron only gave her a second to answer him and when she didn't, he leaned forward and seized the stack of letters out of her hand.

Hermione immediately made to grab them back, but Ron scooted away from the table and started shuffling through them quickly. " I knew it," he growled, dropping all but the offending letter on the table. "You were going to hide this from me, weren't you?" he asked waving the letter in front of her face, oblivious to the fact his entire family was now watching them.

"Honestly?" she asked, caught somewhere between guilt and anger. "I hadn't decided what I was going to do with it yet."

"Well don't let me get in the way," Ron hissed, as he tossed the letter at her and stood up. "You must be dying to know what Vicky has to say," he added, turning his back on her and stalking out of the room.

"Idiot," Ginny groaned under her breath a split second before Hermione snatched the letter off the table and followed him out of the kitchen.

"RON!" Hermione shouted as she chased him up the stairs. "You are being unfair."

"I'm being unfair?" he shouted back, not even bothering to turn and look at her as he stomp towards his room. "I'm bloody being unfair?"

"I can't help it if he writes him me."

"He'd stop writing if you'd stop encouraging him," he shot back.

"WHAT?"Hermione cried, truly angry now. "You better not be suggesting what I think you are suggesting," she said menacingly.

Ron stopped abruptly and spun around to face her. He hadn't meant for the comment to come out that way. "What I mean is if you stop replying, he'll stop writing," he clarified.

"I told you I wouldn't see him," Hermione said. "But I never said I'd stop writing him."

"So you are going to answer it?" Ron asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

"What do you suggest?" Hermione shot back. "I throw it in the bin with the rest? He'll just write another one."

"And you can bloody toss that one out too," he growled. "Toss them all out and eventually he'll get the message."

"He's got the message already," Hermione cried. "How many times do I have to tell you. We are just friends."

"No, Hermione. He hasn't got it. He still thinks there is a chance. And as long as he does, he's going to keep after you."

Hermione sighed loudly and shook her head at him, at a loss for what else to say. He just didn't understand. "Here," she said, thrusting the unopened letter toward him. "Read it."

"I don't want to read it," Ron said, recoiling from the letter. The last thing he wanted to do was read a love letter written to her by another bloke.

"That's just too damn bad," she said, taking a step forward and shoving it into his chest. "Take it," she demanded. "And read it," she added, when his hand closed over the letter. "Maybe it will help you understand what I've been trying to tell you," she said, turning her back on him and descending the stairs on her way to her own room. "I know you don't trust him and that you probably never will," she continued, as she disappeared from view. "But you ought to trust me."

It had been two days and he still hadn't read Viktor Krum's letter. He had no intentions of reading it. Ever. His mind was made up; his heels were dug in; he wasn't going to budge. If only it weren't so damned tempting. Every time he entered his room, his eyes were drawn to it. No matter what he did or how he tried to distract himself, it seemed to draw his attention. It was almost as if the blasted thing had a voice of it's own and if he ignored it for too long, it would start speaking in his head. Read me and you can toss me out. Read me and she might talk to you again. Read me and you'll know exactly what that grouchy git wants with her. Read me. Read me. READ ME!

But he wasn't going to do it. He wasn't going to be dictated to by a bloody letter. A letter from Krum no less. To hell with him, his letter, and all the trouble he has cause. It's his fault they got Hermione in the first place. So what if he was under the Imperious Curse? If he cared about her, he should have been able to throw it off. Harry can throw it off. Even Hermione managed to break free of it. If he cared about her, he would have fought it, Ron reasoned. But he didn't.

"Stop being a stubborn arse and just read it?" Ginny said, startling him out of his thoughts.

Ron looked up just in time to see his sister rise up off Harry's bed and snatch the letter off the bureau. He'd been so distracted that he actually forgotten she was sitting there. Stupid bloody letter, he silently cursed. "I don't need to read it to know what it says," he protested, shrinking away when she pushed it towards him.

"So you are enjoying the silent treatment then?"

"We talk," he argued.

"Oh yes, I've noticed how polite you two are when you are forced to speak to one another," Ginny replied, dropping the letter beside him on the bed. "How you can turn something as simple as asking for a dust rag into an insult is beyond me. Isn't all that forced politeness driving you mad?"

"You prefer we yell at each other?"

"At least then you'd get it out and could start acting normal again."

"This is normal," Ron protested. "Two days without talking is nothing. We've gone way longer then that."

"Only because you are a thick prat," Ginny replied, as she rolled her eyes at him." Stop letting your pride get in the way and read the bloody letter."

"No."

"Fine," she said, snatching it up off the bed. "If you won't read it yourself, I'll read it to you."

"If you open that letter, Ginny," Ron growled out in warning, "I swear I'll..."

"You'll what?" his sister called his bluff. "Curse me? I don't think so," she laughed. At least not until we're back at school.

"Give me that," Ron demanded. He leaned forward to wrench it away from her, but she was faster then he was. She jerked her hand back before he could reach it and by the time he was on his feet, she had Harry's bed between them.

"DON'T!" Ron bellowed, as she moved to open it. "I MEAN IT GINNY!" he shouted loudly. "I don't want to hear it. This isn't about him anymore."

It was the unexpected mood shift that caused her to falter. She had expected the angry outburst. What she hadn't expected was to see him deflate and look so despondent. "What are you talking about?" Ginny asked, not even bothering to hide her confusion. "If it isn't about Krum, who is it about?"

"Hermione," Ron replied miserably, as he fell back on his bed. "Don't you see Gin? She was right. It doesn't matter whether or not I trust him as long as I trust her."

"And you don't?" Ginny asked incredulously. "You can't possibly be serious?" she cried, shaking her head at him in disbelief.

"You don't understand," he whispered inconsolably.

"No, I guess I don't," his sister said, glaring down at him angrily. "Because the Hermione I know, would NEVER do something like that, you insufferable prat," she added, dropping the unopened letter back on the bureau as she stormed out of his bedroom.

"I know she wouldn't," he whispered, as the door slam shut. That's the problem.