Ch 102: Haiti

In order to keep up the appearance of a muggle foundation, Hermione insisted they fly into Port au Prince. But, given their time crunch, they didn't really have time to spend two days flying back and forth from Europe to the Americas. The compromise they reached was to portkey into the Miami airport and then fly to Port au Prince. Having just been in America a few weeks prior with the kids, Ron didn't expect any culture shock until he got to Haiti. He had been on a muggle plane before. He preferred a broom, but having used one on an undercover mission with Fi once, he thought he was ready for this trip. He had not expected to be shocked starting at checking into their flight in the Miami airport.

He and Hermione each had a roller bag and a backpack so no one would question their lack of luggage. They had portkeyed into a hidden room in the airport and then unshrunk their luggage from Ron's pocket. Then they made their way through the large terminal, Ron's eyes were large, taking in the cacophony of languages, colors and noise that mix in an international airport. Despite her shorter legs, Ron found himself gawking and then realizing he had to take a few jogging steps to keep up with his nimble wife. She was oblivious to his sightseeing as she located their check in terminal and navigated their way to the appropriate area. While every check in desk had long lines, the one for their flight was a whole other world. There were even little vendors who would wrap your bags in some sort of muggle see through plastic.

"Why are they doing that?" Ron whispered. "Do we have to do that?"

"Oh – well, some people want to get their bags saran wrapped so it is practically impossible to open it and steal from it before they get it back at their destination. You see it more when flying into poorer countries. I'm not sure that there is more theft, but there is certainly the perception of more theft. And, no – we are going to carry our bags on so we are checking at all."

Ron nodded, still taking in the scene.

"Are those animals?"

"Looks like it," Hermione mumbled, distracted by some immigration paperwork. "You can take pets in these crate things that they check into the plane. And, I guess you could ship anything in a plane as long as it is allowed through customs at the other end."

"What's with the trolley after trolley of boxes? Don't muggles usually use suitcases for airplane trips?"

"What?" she asked trying to see what he was looking at. When she spotted the boxes she nodded, "Oh, there are a lot of things you can buy in America that either you can't get in Haiti or that cost a lot more. So, you see a lot of people come here just to shop – or even to buy things to re-sell in Haiti. Or, I know when I used to travel a lot to different developing countries, friends would ask me to bring things they couldn't buy there like a certain brand of shampoo, their favorite lipstick, their favorite type of crisps – that type of thing."

Ron just kept nodding as the queue snaked forward. Eventually they had checked in, made their through security and to their terminal. Getting some sandwiches and sodas for lunch, they made their way to the gate. Ron chuckled to once again find a little corner of chaos in the Haiti gate compared to the rest of the airport.

"Who are the groups in the matching outfits?" he whispered to Hermione.

"Some sort of missionary or volunteer group. They tend to raise money at home and then all fly down to do charity work like run immunization clinics, build a school, help plant trees, that sort of thing."

"That's nice," Ron nodded admirably.

"Hmm," Hermione scrunched her nose. "Sometimes it's a great thing, but sometimes not so much."

"Since when is helping people for free a bad thing?"

"Well, think of it this way. That group there is what – 30 people? Looks from their shirts like they're from Minnesota, so the airfare alone has to be almost $800 per person on top of whatever else they are paying for food, lodging and what not. And once they get there, let's say they volunteer and build a school. It's great because a school will be built. Or at least part of it. But, if the town they are in doesn't even have a school, then it probably has a tremendous amount of unskilled workers who have no jobs. So, instead of paying $24,000 to fly in unskilled laborers from Minnesota, maybe you could have spent $10,000 to fly in skilled engineers or electricians or something to help provide expertise not locally available, and then use the rest of the money to pay local workers to build the school. This gives you an infusion of cash in the local economy which wouldn't stop at the construction workers. They would buy more food from local vendors, be able to pay someone to wash their clothes in the river while they work or even pay rent to live somewhere. This just continues to spur economic growth, and it would cost not one galleon more than that group over there is spending already."

Ron stared at his wife, his mouth slightly gaping.

"What?" she asked. "Do I have some sandwich stuck in my teeth or something," she asked self-consciously as she wiped her mouth.

"What? No! It's just – that was incredible. I would never have thought of it like that at all. But it makes perfect sense. I mean, I still think volunteering is a good thing – but now that you've explained it that way I absolutely see the unintended impacts of that type of well-intended action."

"I know. I mean, they all look very nice and eager to help. But, maybe their energy would be better spent volunteering to visit people at a local care home or working at a local soup kitchen in their own neighborhoods. Now, my one caveat to that is that this type of trip will change their lives. Once you see this level of poverty, you can never un-see it. They are sitting here now with their iphones in their brand name shoes watching movies in their ipads and eating snacks they paid $15 dollars for. I would bet 100 galleons that on the way home, the behavior of at least some of them is really different. People are touched when they see suffering. It helps them see their own blessings too."

Ron shook his head in awe. "Merlin, you are amazing," he said as he kissed her hair and put her arm around her shoulders. "And I think this anonymous couple who put you in charge if their foundation must be bloody brilliant too."

She laughed at him, shaking her head as they heard the plane start to board.

It was only a two hour flight to Haiti, but Ron was surprised when the airplane stopped on the runway and didn't pull up to the airport itself.

"Is something wrong," he whispered to Hermione. "Why don't they move us up to where those little walkway things come out?"

"Oh, well, in a lot of poorer places there aren't airport gates that can handle planes this big. So, see, they are opening the entry hatch and we'll take a stairway onto the tarmac and walk into the building."

"Seriously? We are pretty high up."

"Yup. Steep stairs. I've used them in other places. Right, see everyone is standing up now. Here we go."

As Ron exited the stuffy plane he was met first by the glare of the bright Caribbean sunshine which caused him to squint and then look down at the steep descent from the plane. Soon Hermione had moved them through immigration and customs in the stuffy airport and past the baggage claim area, and they could see the utter chaos just outside the airport doors.

"Hermione, are you sure this safe?" Ron asked skeptically.

She smiled up at her husband, seeing the concern on his face. "Ron, I know this all looks a bit sketchy."

"A bit? There must be two hundred people out there all packed together and yelling."

"Right. What I was saying is that I know it looks sketchy, BUT this is something I am very experienced at. There is a hired car waiting for us outside. When we leave the doors, stay immediately next to me. Don't let anyone 'help' with our bags, and head straight for the line of white vans to the left and we'll spot the one holding up the sign that says Weasley."

"OK. But I'm keeping a tight grip on you and my wand."

"Fair enough."

They eased into the melee and quickly eased through the crowd and headed to the vans. They quickly found a driver holding a sign with their name, and Hermione quickly greeted him in French. The man put their bags in the car and they headed to an office on the outskirts of town. There they met up with one of the local project directors who was going to be accompanying them to the rural community. They were going to be getting in the back of a truck which was going to be transporting supplies to the new medical clinic. They packed the front seat with the medicines that would be damaged if it rained, so Hermione, Ron and the Jean-Martin from the local charity climbed in the back and sat on their bags as they held on to the truck and each other. Hermione chuckled at Ron as he took in the spectacle of the mobs of people who jumped on and off the moving truck as they made their way through Port-au-Prince. She dug into her bag and pulled out a wide brimmed hat for each of them.

Ron gave her a skeptical glance, but she simply smiled and said, "Trust me." Then she plopped the large hat on her own head, securing the tie under her chin, so he chuckled and did the same. She also made sure they both slathered up in muggle sunscreen, for which he was later very grateful.

Jean-Martin spoke English well and told Hermione and Ron all about the town and the organization as they drove. He pointed out the areas that had been re-built from the earthquake as well as the buildings that had managed to survive the natural disaster. Hermione peppered him with questions while Ron just absorbed everything he was seeing. He sat on the suitcase with one hand holding onto the bouncing truck. He was torn between trying to absorb the sights and sounds and smells of the streets of Port au Prince while at the same time gazing at his amazing wife. He had seen her work the political circuits in London to garner resources for refugees. He'd seen her skillfully maneuver the political landmine of The Ministry 20th Anniversary Ball. He'd seen her handle muggle seniors, screaming kids and integrating magical and muggle in-laws. But this was all completely different. Here she was in a long denim skirt over a pair of bike shorts, which she claimed was to be respectful to the local culture and practical at the same time, while also wearing well-worn hiking boots, an old, faded Oxford t shirt and a pale blue long sleeve unbuttoned shirt over it. She had a navy blue bandana tied around her neck and her massive curls were pulled into a pony tail and covered in the wide brimmed hat. She had her sunglasses on and seemed blissfully oblivious to the sweat pouring down her neck and back or the dirt from who knows where that was smudged across her shirt and skirt. And she was somehow sitting taller, glowing and beaming like he'd never seen before. She was clearly in her element, and was obviously drawing energy from the chaos surrounding them.

As the drive continued to snake through the polluted streets, the scene continued to change, but the throngs of people never seemed to lessen. And Ron had never seen so many stray, mangy dogs in his entire life, and they seemed to be everywhere rooting in the trash or heading somewhere with seemingly great intent. But eventually the hills of concrete and tin houses began to be further apart and eventually there were some open areas up the steep mountain sides. The traffic would stop every so often so people could get on and off the colorful buses that seemed to defy all logic in their ability to hold people and goods. Hermione made sure he re-applied the sunscreen a few hours into the drive, and they were glad they had on long sleeves so they didn't burn under the sun. Jean-Martin had brought water bottles for them, which they accepted gratefully. Finally, after about five hours bouncing along mountainside roads in the back of the truck, Jean-Martin pointed out a building in the distance telling them it was the new clinic.

The truck turned down what Jean-Martin said was the "road" to the clinic, but Ron took issue with his liberal use of the word. The unpaved "road" was so steep that Hermione and Ron were standing with their feet between the truck bed and the back wall of the truck cab, their backs flat against the luggage in the truck bed, and Ron gripped Hermione fiercely with one arm while his other was looped onto a bar over the wheel well. Hermione and Jean-Martin seemed un-phased by it all while Ron was sure they were all mad. And when the truck finally made its way down the steep incline and pulled up in front of the clinic door, Ron let out a deep breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Blimey. I've had some rough trips before," he muttered to Hermione, "but this one takes the cake."

She simply patted his back and kissed his cheek. "You'll feel better once we get out of the truck, get some food and water in you and get out of the sun. Come on."

Jean-Martin asked one of the workers to take their bags to the guest house above the clinic while Hermione and Ron helped unload the truck and take all of the supplies into the medical center. It was about half passed six when one of the nuns came and announced dinner was ready. They all made their way to a communal dining room with three tables covered in plastic gingham table cloths and surrounded by old metal folding chairs on a concrete floor. The walls were painted a lime green with bright blue around the windows. The paint may have been peeling, but it was certainly cheery. After a prayer offered in Haitian Kreyol by one of the nuns, everyone made their way to the utility sink to wash their hands and then to the serving table. They helped themselves to rice mixed with soybeans, some roasted chicken and some green beans. There was a table of muggle sodas as well as more bottled water. Ron proclaimed it to be the most amazing chicken he had ever eaten. He ate with such enthusiasm that the nun who had cooked it blushed at the compliment and laughed at the crazy red headed British man.

Despite her attempts to hide her yawns, their hosts soon noticed Hermione's exhaustion and shooed the couple up to the guest house. There one of the nuns explained in French that the door to the building that housed both the nuns and the guest house was gated and padlocked each night thirty minutes after sunset for everyone's safety. There was a generator that ran for an additional thirty minutes after that which ran the hot water heater. But, at one hour after sunset there was no more power and they would need to rely on torches and candles and prepare themselves for cold showers. She led them to a communal bunk room and pointed out the men's and women's loos.

The bunk room was a small room with bare concrete floors and walls of cinder blocks. The one window – well actually just an open square in the wall - had security bars on the outside, but also had pretty, clearly homemade curtains framing it. They were sharing the room with two other volunteers who had been helping at the clinic for the month. They were doctors from Cuba, one woman and one man, but neither spoke English so Ron got by with smiles and head nods. The room had 5 sets of bunk beds, each with a mattress, a fitted sheet and flat sheet and a pillow case filled with rolled up old fabric stuffed inside for a pillow. Their Cuban roommates had claimed the two bottom bunks nearest the window. So Hermione set her bag on the bottom bunk against the far wall, and Ron took the one next to her.

They headed to their respective washrooms and despite the barely warm water, the nonexistent water pressure and dark concrete shower stall, both were incredibly grateful for the chance to stand under the stream of water and wash off the sweat and grime accumulated over hours driving through the city and mountains in the back of a truck. Greatly refreshed, they met back in the bunk room in their pajamas and crawled into their beds.

"I know it's not even 8 pm," Ron yawned, "but it has been years since I've been this physically worn out. Auror training has nothing on riding in the back of that truck."

Hermione laughed. "Well, I've never done auror training, but I am beat as well. Not to mention the jet lag. Let's go to sleep, I am sure we will be up before dawn."

"I'm sorry. Have we met? Ron Weasley – nice to meet you. I'm the one who never wakes before dawn."

She laughed knowingly. "Just you wait. I am telling you we will all be up before dawn. Remember, dear, you're in my world now."

Just then the nuns shut the power off, and the guest house quieted down. They could hear their roommates shuffling in from the loos, but they quickly climbed into bed as well and soon everyone was asleep.

Sure enough, it was quarter passed 5 when the rooster crows pierced the dark, quiet night, snagging them both from their dreams. Ron groaned and covered his ears with the flat sheet.

Hermione chuckled and whispered, "Told you so. My world now, love."

"Ok, ok, you win. Can we sleep more?"

"Good luck with that," she laughed.

Within the next half an hour, their bunkmates were up and readying for their day, and they could hear the nuns bustling about in the house on the other side of the wall. At 6 the sun finally came through the window, and they heard someone unlock the gate. By 615 they were eating a small, quiet breakfast in the communal dining room, and by 7 am, Jean-Martin was ready to show them around for the day. They started by talking to some of the patients who had already queued up before dawn to see the clinicians at the medical center. Hermione tried to interact in French, which was similar to the local Kreyol language, but Jean-Martin translated for Ron so he wouldn't be totally lost. He was really touched at how far some of them had traveled to seek medical attention for things his mum could have fixed with a quick spell or a potion she kept in the kitchen.

After spending a few hours at the clinic, they toured the school and met with both the faculty and some students. They helped out in the English class, where Ron was quite a hit with the older students. Then they visited the art classroom, which consisted of the pleasant teacher holding up some broken crayons and helping the kindergarten aged students identify the colors. But, there weren't enough crayons for everyone, and there wasn't paper to color on. So, they continued identifying colors instead, with Hermione calling out the names to encourage the children as well, "ble, wouj, vet…."

Thinking of Hugo, Ron leaned over to Hermione and said, "Please tell me we can at least give them some basic art supplies. I feel like we owe it to Hugo and Melissa at the very least."

"Of course we will. Actually, I packed some. We can come by tomorrow and bring some initial ones ourselves."

"You packed some?"

"My world, dear. My world. This is not my first rodeo."

He once again stared at her in awe. "I have the most bloody brilliant wife."

Following their time at the school, they had some fruit and bread and grabbed some water and sports drinks before Jean-Martin started to walk them up the mountain to meet with some of the leaders of the microcredit bank.

"Actually, this is one of things I have been most excited to see," she said to Jean-Martin as they started to ascend the steep trail. "I've done a lot of research on the Grameen Bank model, and microcredit lending is just the most simple, brilliant way to change lives on a drastic scale. But, with so much of my background in refugee camps, the various host countries were not excited about helping the refugees set up businesses, as they wanted them all to go back to their country of origin as soon as possible. So, this will be the first time I've visited one in person."

"What is microcredit?" Ron asked.

"Well, it is small business loans, only a few hundred dollars or so," Jean-Martin explained. "Then these tiny business loans allow that person or that small business group to expand their business. They then pay it back slowly in tiny increments – some monthly payments as low as fifty cents. Overall it is a way to infuse cash into the local economy. And, it also provides loans to business that wouldn't traditionally qualify. And, some microcredit bank organizations, this one included, require that people attend some basic classes to qualify for the loan. So, they have to learn about some business practices, the importance of paying on time or planning their inventory, but then they also have some basic health and nutrition classes."

"Wow," Ron said. "That's brilliant."

"It really is. So simple, and so capable of changing a family's entire world," Hermione said.

"Where does the initial investment money come from?"

"Sometimes from donor organizations, sometimes from the loans that have been paid back, and sometimes they come from online locations through websites like Kiva."

"What's that?" Ron asked.

"It's a way to connect people from anywhere in the world – say suburban London, to a small business and loan them the money directly. They can pick to loan to places in a certain country or industry or only women owned businesses or even in a certain town. Then they loan the $25 or $50 dollars, and when the small business pays back the bank, the money is sent via the internet back to the original loaner."

"Also brilliant," Ron said.

"Exactly. Now can you see why I am so excited?" Hermione gushed.

"I like you excited," he laughed, wagging his eyebrows at her.

She rolled her eyes and hurried up the hill towards the small cinderblock building that housed the bank program.

They spent the afternoon talking to the directors of the lending programs as well as several small business owners who had benefited from the program. Ron enjoyed talking to the business owners and found that he actually had a lot to offer them as far as sharing ideas that had worked for the joke shop back home. When word got around that there was a successful British businessman giving out free business advice, suddenly all kinds of business owners were queuing up to speak with him.

"Well, my goodness. You're practically more famous here than at home," she teased him, which caused his ears to blush.

The demand for his time grew so much that the bank director eventually pulled Ron aside and asked that he possibly come back a different day and consider giving a small lecture and then to have the different business leaders and come and spend 15-20 minutes with him at a time to discuss their specific questions. Ron loved the idea and promised to return first thing in the morning the day after next. With that they returned to the guest house to have another communal dinner, take their showers and then fall into bed before 8.

Ron was more prepared for the early rooster wake-up call the second morning, and got up eagerly looking forward to a second day. The goal was to hike to the other side of the mountain to meet with a gentleman who was trying to both re-forest the region as well as improve farming techniques. Hermione and Ron convinced Jean Martin to let them first go to the school in the morning and take the art supplies to the art teacher, who was positively overwhelmed. While the teacher cried, Hermione and Ron spoke with her about both Hugo and Melissa and shared how excited they would both be to hear about her great work. Then they popped into the English classroom again to chat with the students for twenty minutes before Jean Martin finally insisted they had to be on their way.

It took about two hours to hike to their destination. Initially Jean Martin and Hermione talked along the route, but eventually they all fell into a comfortable silence. They were encouraged to learn about the program focused on planting trees and introducing different agricultural techniques which could help improve and preserve the soil. Hermione and Ron both admitted that they had little expertise in this area outside of their home gardens. But, it was none the less interesting and encouraging.

As Jean Martin was chatting with the other man, Ron leaned over and whispered, "If there are no trees and no birds, then do you think there are no garden gnomes too?"

She laughed and just shook her head. "We'll probably never know."

"And I wonder how the magical community delivers mail without owls or any other birds. So weird."

"Huh. Hadn't thought of that," she mused.

As the day went on, they realized they needed to head back to the guest house in order to be there before dinner. Jean Martin walked with them until the guest house was in site, but then excused himself for the evening promising to meet them at breakfast. It gave the couple an opportunity to be alone for the first time in several days, so they took advantage of the moment and walked slowly back down the hill.

"So, is it all overwhelming?" she asked hesitantly.

"Well, yeah, but in a good way I think."

"How do you mean?"

"Um, well, there are undoubtedly a shitload of problems to solve. But, there are some amazing people working hard to solve them. I really like that the different program leaders we've met are all Haitian. Sure, they may not be from this town, but they are still more local than any British bloke or American volunteer could ever be."

"I agree. And it is so rare."

"Yeah. I was sensing that from what you've said before. I mean, I am also glad they are connected with some broader institutions for resources and technical support, but they really seem to be looking to their own community for leadership and to the outside only for resources and expertise."

"Exactly. That was one of the reasons I was so excited about this place."

"So, what do you think we could actually do here?"

"Well, I've been pondering just that. I want to keep in mind the goal of growing the local economy so that it can sustain itself further. So, I think one clear way to do that is with money for lending through the microcredit program. We can work on the specifics, but I was also wondering about a mentoring type program. It wouldn't be for every fruit vendor or cell phone stall, but for the larger businesses, maybe we could work to pair the leader with an established business person in England, France or America to serve as a mentor or advisor in some way. Then I was wondering about the school. Those kids are so bright and so energized, but what are they going to do when they graduate? Run a fruit stall? Move to the city and paint fingernails or do hair? There don't seem to be good options. So, maybe we look at some college scholarships where they go to school and then have to come back here to serve in their community for a set period of time as teachers or nurses or road engineers or something. Or for those who don't want to study further, maybe offer some sort of work program where they are employed in the re-forestation program. We'd need to work out how feasible that would be with Jean Martin, but I was sensing they were looking for a way to expand that program. And, I think if they understood the amount of resources we were considering investing here, they would have straight up asked for it. But I think they are just hoping for a donation of a few thousand pounds right now."

Ron shook his head, yet again stunned by the brilliance and practicality of his wife. "So, so brilliant. I love every single one of those things. The only thing I would add is that we put some funds aside to keep supporting the leaders so that talent like Jean Martin or the head of the bank don't get burned out. They need good salaries, ongoing training and support from us or other mentors we could pair them with. Not that they can't do it on their own, but it can get lonely at the top, and this community really needs them to stay energized and supported."

"That's a fabulous idea! I love it! I would never have thought of that," she gushed.

"And, well," he paused. "I want to come back here. I don't know quite how we'll explain it all, but I want us to come enough that we can see what is working and what isn't."

"I think that's a great plan. And maybe one day we could even bring the kids."

"Fantastic. I think they'd do really well. It is shocking. You were right – it isn't something you can prepare for, you just have to see it. But, I think it would be great for them to come. As long as they know not to drink the tap water I think they'll be fine out here. Now- staying in that big city is a whole other thing. I'm not so keen on spending much time there."

"I totally agree."

"Wow. So, we have a plan, huh?"

"I think so. Naturally I am going to tell them we need to speak with the donor family first, but that we want to suggest a number of things. I want to get Jean Martin's feedback on the feasibility of different ideas too. Maybe he and I can do that tomorrow when you are helping folks at the bank."

"Well, if we can find another translator then I am all for it. But that bank scene would be a disaster without someone who can speak Kreyol and English," he laughed.

They both chuckled at the thought and headed back to join their new friends for dinner.

The following night they had snuck off for a few moments alone before dinner and found a large boulder to sit on as they looked out over the mountains.

"I am so glad you came, Ron."

"Are you kidding me? I am so glad you brought me. I would never, ever have seen anything like this without you showing it to me. And you know, I think we can do some real good here. And I hope we can do it the right way, you know?"

"I do," she nodded. "Thank you. Thank you for talking me into quitting my old job. Thank you for encouraging me come up with ways to use all that money. And thank you for sharing this with me. I am not sure you understand how special it is for me to share my excitement about this type of thing in development. It's big, Ron. I wasn't sure I would have this again in my life, but you found a way to give it to me." As she spoke, her voice cracked and she began to tear up.

He put his arm around her and pulled her to his chest. "You're barmy. This has been amazing. I am not even 100% sure I could have found Haiti on a map two weeks ago. But somehow you have found the right people in the right place to be able to figure out how to finally put all that money to good use. Put aside how this trip has changed me forever. Put aside how amazing it was to have people to queue up to talk to Ron Weasley, business bloke instead of the hero nonsense. Put aside how much I have loved watching you in your element where you are positively glowing from energy and ideas and ways to do good. All of that aside, the relief of having that money being used, and used wisely, is so huge. I had felt such pressure to give it away, but I didn't really know what I was doing, so I am sure I made some crap decisions. And then since the accident I hadn't had the mental focus to give anything away. But now that isn't a burden. You've taken that and not only relieved me but somehow turned a burden into a gift that changes me forever."

She kissed him chastely. "We make a good team. Guess when we get home we need to get all of the financial components finalized. We need to officially transfer some funds to the foundation to really kick it off."

"Good. I haven't even been reading those statements when they come in the muggle post. Just can't make my brain think about it. This is just what we need. And it is finally a way to put that blood money to a good and just use. But, Hermione, I do have one question."

"What?"

"Are you sure you're ok going back to England? I know we had talked about overseas life at one point, but then we sort of shifted directions to the foundation. And, I hadn't thought about it much since then, but I dunno. Here it seemed like you sort of came alive or something. I can see how much this life energizes you – how much it gets your brain going, and you seem so happy you are practically glowing. Are you really ok going home?"

She stared at him a moment, stunned at his question. Finally she said, "Well, I guess I hadn't really considered anything else. Don't get me wrong, I love it here. And I think I could love being here full time." She paused to collect her thoughts, making Ron nervous until she continued, "But, I am not ready to be this far away from the kids. And I am not ready to stop all of my magical education yet. But, if this partnership works out here, I would very much love to come multiple times a year. Maybe we'd try to come for a week every three or four months. And, if your work conflicts, maybe you'll eventually be comfortable enough with everything that I come alone sometimes. Or we eventually hire foundation staff that comes as well. I guess what I'm saying is that while I really appreciate the question- and I really, really do - I am very glad to be going home tomorrow. This isn't home. I want to be near our children, our parents, Harry and Gin, Melissa, Mrs. Carrington and Mrs. Eldwin and even Michael and Fatima. I think the drastic changes in our lives over the past few years are more than enough for now. If when we are older, we want to come here or somewhere else for a year or so, then we'll think about it then. But for now, I am glad to be going home."

Ron grinned and kissed her. "Merlin, I love you," he muttered against her cheek. And then he kissed her again before engulfing her in a tight hug.