Author's Notes: Omigosh, the second update within one day! Protective!Ron is such an inspiration, granted.
Rating: T, for hate mail citations.
Disclaimer: Sigh.
His Motivation
Dozens and dozens of owls were swooping through the little kitchen, dropping letters onto the breakfast table, some of which Hermione opened and read with an admirable air of nonchalance while she was eating her toast. This scene was most certainly not unfamiliar to Ron but he was not sure if he would ever get used to it.
After entering employment in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Hermione had made a comet-like career in the Ministry of Magic and was now high up in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The actions she had been taking in her job had always stirred some controversy within certain alcoves of the Wizarding society - while most of them had aimed at granting more rights to hitherto oppressed creatures and half-breeds, she was also working to overthrow the ancient, partially outrageous laws that had been specifically designed to benefit pureblood wizards. Needless to say, every new legislation of hers was promptly followed by a day-long inrush of owls, lots of which delivering letters of wholehearted thanks, but then there were others that made Ron's stomach churn with concern and rage. Voldemort might have been history, but there was still a frightening lot of people out there who strongly believed in pureblood supremacy.
And just two days ago, Hermione had filled a loophole in a law that had allowed members of the "old families" to buy themselves out of punishment after the commitment of specific crimes against Muggles. From the way Hermione was huffing and scoffing as she now tossed the letters to the side, Ron could deduce that the reactions were not of the enthusiastic kind to say the least. Despite his better judgment, he took some of the letters that Hermione had read and skimmed through them himself.
"I will find your family and murder you in your sleep," one letter said. "Filthy treacherous Mudblood cunt...", "Back in the Good Days, the likes of you would have been sliced open and fed to the werewolves..." - there even was a photo of Hermione in which she was sitting on a park bench, wiping ice-cream from the mouth of little Hugo.
Feeling sick to his stomach, Ron set aside the letters and kept watching Hermione without really seeing her. He could not believe that there were seriously people out there who wanted the death of his wonderful wife and even of their sweet innocent children who were currently blissfully sleeping up in their rooms. And he was gladder than ever that he was an Auror and in the position to protect them. He might have first become interested in this sort of job at age fourteen because it was cool, but what had given him the determination to actually pull it through was the thought that he could contribute to a world which was safe for Hermione to live in. And he swore to himself that he would always protect his family, no matter what it took.