Chapter 9: Proof of Life
It didn't take long after Hermia moved in for the three friends to settle comfortably into a rhythm all their own. In fact, after a relatively short amount of time it felt as if Hermia had always been there. Lizzie and Nate were amazing. They were always willing to lend Hermia a hand when she needed it. Nate was the worse of the two. A couple of months old and already they had him firmly wrapped around their pinky fingers. It was often Hermia would wake from a nap and find that Nate had taken the twins out for the day. He would never admit it, but Hermia and Lizzie knew he took them out to pick up guys.
Hero and Helena had so thoroughly won over the hearts of Auntie Lizzie and Uncle Nate that the two surrogate mothers made up reasons to take the girls off her hands and kick her out of the house. Which was why when the twins turned five months old they thought it was finally time to present Hermia with their own special way of getting her out of the house.
"Nursing School?" Hermia said skeptically as she set the pamphlet they had given her flat on the table. "I don't think now is the right time."
"Now is the perfect time." Lizzie pushed the pamphlet back in to her hands. "Every thing is all in order. You start on Monday."
"I can't go to nursing school." Hermia laughed. "I can't afford to go to school. And who's going to watch the girls." She motioned to the two babies lying on a blanket in the middle of the floor, one with her foot held close to her chest with her two pudgy hands, trying to pull her foot free of an offending frilly, white sock complete with and inch of lace, while the other lay contentedly gnawing on a wooden alphabet block.
"Hermia," Nate scooted closer to the table. "Lizzie and I have everything taken care of. You're tuition is paid for. We've arranged our schedules so that one of us will always be home to watch the girls while you're in class. And we sent your application into the school." He handed her a folded piece of paper. "Here is your acceptance letter."
Hermia stared open mouthed at the proffered paper. "I can't accept this. I already owe you too much as it is."
"Hermia," Lizzie reached out and gripped her hand firmly. "We're not going to argue with you about this."
"But…"
"No." Nate stopped her. "You are going to school." He reached out and took her hand in his. "Mia, darling, I know you. You aren't happy if you're not learning. You need this."
"But the girls…They're my daughters, my responsibility. I don't want to be a burden to you."
"Hermia, honey, you are far from being a burden. I love you like a sister." Nate wrapped a brotherly arm around her shoulder and hugged her tight to him. "And your girls…" He clutched a dramatic hand to his heart. "They have got to be the most precious things I have encountered in my entire life. Let me spoil them, Mia. Let me spoil you. Lord knows I have no one else to waste my money on."
"You could waste some of it on me." Lizzie offered sweetly batting her eyes at the unaffected man.
"You're not as much fun." Nate dismissed Lizzie with a mocking wave, choosing to ignore her tongue protruding from between her lips. "So what's it going to be, Hermia?"
"I…" she shook her head, feeling lost. "I don't know what to say."
"Say you'll take the money and make something out of your life."
Hermia gazed lovingly at her two friends. "I don't know what I would do without you two."
"Oh Mia," Lizzie pulled her friend into her arms. "I feel the same way about you. Besides," Lizzie said pulling away. "You can probably test out of half of the fucking course. You already read half of my bloody textbooks."
"I predict," Nate held up a finger, butting in, "we'll be taking orders from her within two years."
"I say one."
Hermia rolled her eyes. "Sometimes you give me way too much credit."
Nate laughed sardonically. "This coming from the girl who re-taught herself to walk in months when the doctors said it couldn't be done."
"The girl who woke up from a six month coma without any clue who she was, found out she was pregnant, and never lost her cool…"
"All right, all right. I get the idea."
"It'll be good for you." Lizzie said rising from her seat and moving to the cupboard to pull out dishes to set the table with. "It'll get you out of the house. A step toward having a life for yourself out side of taking care of your daughters. Maybe," she raised a playful brow, "you will even find yourself a dashingly handsome young man to play daddy."
Hermia laughed with disbelief. "I doubt that. Besides," she said over Lizzie and Nate's objections, "now is not a good time for me to get involved with anyone."
"Why not?" Nate leaned back in his seat allowing more room for Lizzie to set the table. "You're only young once, sweet heart."
"True," she agreed, but found she couldn't concede. She knew her friends were right. Had been right for a while now. She needed to go out, have some fun. Maybe even meet a bloke. But every time the idea was presented to her she felt a deep lurch in her stomach and knew she couldn't. The thought alone made her feel a deep sense of betrayal in her heart. She might not remember his name or what he looked like, but she knew there was someone out there that she had loved very much, and perhaps, negating her lack of memory, she still did. There was no other explanation. "Can I just get through nursing school before you try fixing me up?"
"So you'll do it?" Nate sat up with excitement, hearing only what he wished to.
"Yes." She sighed. "I'll do it."
"Excellent. We'll go shopping tomorrow for your school supplies."
With a loud pop Ron appeared in the hallway out side his and Harry's flat. For a moment it seemed as if he would lose his grip on the four grocery bags he was carrying, but with a little dip and swoop he regained his hold and returned to his normal standing position. Using his knee, he held up one of the bags to keep it from slipping while he reached into his trouser pocket for his wand. With a quick flick and a jab the door unlocked and swung open. "Harry!" he called into the darkened flat. "Harry you here?"
When he was through the door he used his foot to push it closed and in the process nearly lost his balance and the bags. Growling with frustration he used his wand to levitate the bags out in front of him. 'Wingardium Leviosa.' A sad smile appeared on his lips. He could just hear Hermione in his head directing him how to perform it properly.
Keeping the bags out in front of him he made his way down the hall towards the kitchen. He directed the bags to the counter then gave his wand another flick to illuminate the room. He reached in the bag and pulled out a sack of tomatoes and a head of lettuce and was just running to put them in their proper place when he saw Harry sitting in the dark, a half empty bottle of Firewhisky sitting in front of him.
"Harry," Ron said picking up the head of lettuce he had dropped. "I didn't see you there. What were you doing sitting in the dark?"
Harry filled a glass with the amber liquid and without looking held it out toward Ron. "Here."
Ron looked from the glass of whiskey to Harry's devastated face. He set the tomatoes and lettuce on the table and sank into the chair accepting the glass. "They did it didn't they?"
Harry poured himself another glass and tossed it back in one gulp, wincing as the liquid burnt the back of his throat. "Yep." He set the glass loudly on the table. "I was informed today that they've called off the investigation."
"We still don't know what happened. They can't call off her investigation, can they?"
"It's been over a year, Ron. There have been no new leads since we found her wand. Malfoy still isn't talking. We can't find any magical trace of her. There's nothing the Ministry can do."
"So that's it?" Ron left his glass untouched on the table. "It's over? The Ministry is just going to turn their backs on her? They can't do that. I won't let them."
"What are you going to do, Ron? Storm in there, hold the Minister of Magic by wand point and demand that he reopen the investigation?"
"If I have to."
"Ron, it won't do any good." Harry poured himself another drink and downed it. "They've declared her legally dead."
"They have?"
Harry nodded. "I tried to stop them Ron, but I can only pull so many strings."
"No, no." he stammered shakily. "I understand." Ron wrapped his fingers around his drink a moment and stared at it contemplating whether he wanted to drink it or not. With a twitch of his lips to the side he pushed the glass away and rose to his feet.
"Ron?" Harry looked up in surprise. "Where are you going?" He followed his friend from the kitchen and into the sitting room.
He found Ron standing in the middle of the now lit room, his eyes scrunched in thought. "Ron?"
The red head pulled up his sleeves and walked to the bookcase closest to the front door. He pulled the first five books off the shelf and set them on the floor near his feat.
"What are you doing?"
"Cleaning?" Ron didn't bother to look at him but continued to pull books and papers off the shelf. "This room is filthy."
"Now?" Harry asked incredulously. "You're cleaning now?"
"Yep."
"Do you want me to help you with that?"
Ron shook his head, "No." he lowered himself to the floor and crossed his legs beneath him. "That's all right. I can do it myself."
"You could use magic."
"No." Ron shook his head reading the first few lines of the paper in his hand and deciding it would be the first piece in the discard pile. "I need to keep my mind of things."
Harry nodded his understanding. "I'm going out tonight with Seamus, Dean and Neville. Do you want to come with?"
Ron sighed heavily. "No, I think I'll just stay here and work on this."
Harry stared down at Ron a moment feeling an unjustified swell of anger rise in him. "You know what Ron? Piss off." Ron's mop of red hair shot up in surprise. "I'm so tired of this. I know you miss, Hermione. I get it. I miss her too. But damn it. It's been over a year and you still haven't found her. No ones found her. She's gone."
"Don't you think I know that?" Ron bound surprisingly fast to his feet. "Do you think I like being miserable? Do you think I like being like this?"
"I don't know, Ron. Do you?"
"No! I hate this! I hate that I can't seem to get her out of my mind. That I can't move on. I hate being like this. You have no idea how hard this is on me."
"I don't know? Did you seriously just tell me that I don't understand how hard this is? Well screw you! I lost her too, you know. She was my best friend too. You and her are the closest things I ever had to a real family, and now she's gone. And what's worse, it's my fault. I should have gone after her. I should have stopped her. There's not a day that goes by that I don't hate myself for just watching, like an idiot, as she ran after him. Because I do, Ron. I get it. You're hurting right now. But so am I. Bloody hell, this is fuckin sixth year all over again. I lost both of my best friends in one fail swoop." Harry threw his hands at Ron. "I have to get out of here."
Harry apparated directly from the apartment leaving Ron feeling empty and alone. He stared at the spot where Harry had disappeared a few minutes before crumpling to the floor in a heap. He stared at the stack for a while longer, unable to make himself move. Harry was right. He wasn't the only one who lost her. He knew that. But he couldn't make himself give up on her. Not yet. There had to be answer out there somewhere. Not knowing what else to do he picked up the first book on the pile, read the title and began the process of reorganization.
Five hours later Ron's neck was stiff and sore from having his head tipped forward. Hours of silent, diligent work found Ron approaching the final bookcase located beside the door leading to the kitchen. Sighing heavily he pulled all the contents off the top shelf and settled it on the floor. Leaning back against the hard wood, he tipped his head back and rotated it in a gentle circle to work out the kinks. He looked around the room, admiring his handy work. All the shelves were bare and their contents set into four piles. Papers to keep, papers to throw, books to keep, and books to donate. It was tedious, mindless work and he was almost done. Sighing heavily he started in on his project once again.
He opened the cover of a book and read the inscription inside. It was the book Hermione had given Harry last Christmas. He was just leaning forward to set in on the keep pile when his eyes caught on a brown envelope that had been wedged between the book in his hand and the next. Without thinking Ron picked it up, broke the seal and dumped the contents into his large palm. At first glance it was nothing special. An old quill, a bit of singed parchment, a few loose knutts. He was about to dump the handful back in the envelope when he saw a delicate silver chain slip over the side of his hand and dangle towards the floor.
Tilting his head with puzzlement to the side he brought his hand closer to his face to expect the gentle, silver chain. He lifted the chain delicately between thumb and index finger. Pulling it loose of the pile he revealed a crystal suspended from the long chain. It glowed warmly in a gentle, rosy grey color. He stared at it for a moment with incomprehension not realizing at first glance what it was. Then it hit him. Like a sledge hammer to his chest, making his heart cease mid beat. "The necklace."
