King's Cross Station swarmed with people eddying in circles. Arms waved frantically. Shouts of 'Oi, over here" echoed hollowly and bounced off the brick walls. In a futile attempt to keep order, Ministry officials tried to hold semi-hysterical families back from the barrier as the Hogwarts students disembarked under the extreme security measures enforced by the Ministry and assisted by Order members.
Carriages were emptied one at a time and students, instead of finding their loved ones in the usual year end crush, were forced to wait until a member of their family claimed them. Credentials were checked carefully. A hush had fallen on the crowd and people peered nervously at their neighbours fearing any sign of Death Eaters or the Dark Lord.
Ron's carriage unloaded last of all. As he handed over a first year Ravenclaw to an anxious mother and father who thanked him profusely, an older man who was with them spoke.
"You're a Weasley, I suppose."
" Yes, sir. Ronald Weasley."
" Ah, you'd be one of Arthur's lot. Good man, your father. Spot of bother at your place last night? Everyone safe?"
The old bloke seemed pleasant enough, but Ron's eyes were now worriedly scanning the station for a certain bushy haired girl. Reluctantly he pulled his attention back to the white-haired gentleman.
" Yes, sir. Everyone's safe-for now."
" Good job. Name's Herodotus Henckel. Your Uncle was a great friend of mine – Billius Weasely. Great man! You look like him, young Ronald."
Ron stared. Uncle Billius was a bit of a legend in the family; the more so because he had done something incredibly important in the last War but none of the older family members would talk about it.
More to himself, Ron muttered, " I'm named after him – Ronald Billius Weasley."
" Well, young man, I think you might actually live up to his name. Now, you don't want to keep your young lady waiting, do you?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.
"What ….I…" Ron stumbled over his words blushing a deep crimson.
" She's standing under the Café awning straining to catch a glimpse of you."
" But how do you know?" Ron asked in amazement for he was quite unable to even see the Café awning from his present vantage point.
" I have a gift. I see what has just happened or what is about to happen but only if I'm tapping into someone's strong emotions. You must have strong feelings for her, Ronald Billius."
" I do," Ron replied earnestly, surprised at himself for confessing this to a complete stranger. And at that he determined that he must see Hermione -now.
" It's been a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Henckel but I need to go."
" Of course you do. Pleasure, sir." He finished and offered his hand to Ron. Ron took it and immediately felt a pleasant warm tingle. There was definitely something about this old fellow but he didn't have to time to examine what it was right now.
Ron hurried down the platform with only one purpose in mind. This time, nothing would interfere.
" Ron….Ron ! This way….Ron!" Ron heard his mother's voice calling.
Oh, no! He couldn't ignore his mother without the most drastic consequences.
" Little Ronnie, are you quite well? You're all flushed," his mother fussed as she caught hold of his arm. " You're going to the Twins' place. I hope you don't mind too much.."
Mrs. Weasley caught her breath and Ron tried to stem the flow. He took her by the shoulders and looked down at her. Little Ronnie, indeed!
" Mum, Mum..listen. I'll be right back. I have something I must do – a promise to a friend." And with that, he turned and loped towards the Café just hearing his mother's voice.
" But, Ron…."
And his Father's unusually serious tones " Where's Ron – I need to talk to him right now." No doubt he'd hear all about this later.
He rounded the corner and there she was. He caught his breath as he took in her wild hair, moist eyes and trembling lips. She was making a stellar effort to control herself. She spotted Ron and covered the few steps between them, then stood uncertainly gazing at him, eyes glistening with unshed tears.
" Ron, " she choked and he instantly wrapped his long arms round her for the second time that day. It was a habit he intended to get used to.
She needed him – that much was certain. But maybe, she just needed him to be her friend not her…well, her something else. Did he dare say anything?
"Tell her, you have to tell her, Ron. You owe it to all of us." Unbidden Harry's voice sounded in his ear. It was almost the last thing he'd said to Ron before leaving for Privet Drive with a personal escort of Ministry Aurors that morning.
" Hermione," he said gently into her splendid hair. She raised her head slowly.
" I'm so scared, Ron. I don't want to lose anyone else. Not my family or your family or Harry …or especially not you." Her voice faded out and he barely heard the last part. In fact if it had not been for the expression on her face – impossibly tender – he wouldn't have believed she'd said that about him.
Everything about her screamed to pull her into his arms again and kiss her until they shut out the world and all its woes. But he had one other thing he had to do first.
" Hermione, I care about you more than I can say. I hate that you and your parents are out there with this happening. But just hold on for one night. I'll work something out so you won't be so alone. Promise me you'll use your charm. Promise me you'll be careful .Promise me…"
He wound down as he noticed her widened eyes soften and gaze at him with a loving concern that he knew he was more than returning judging by the pink in her cheeks. Their eyes locked and he dropped his head towards her. He could see her nervously moisten her lips. He closed his eyes, wet his own lips their sweet destination almost found.
" Ah – hmm," a voice cleared its throat immediately behind his left ear.
" Ronald, " his father's voice was like a shower of ice as Ron jerked and pulled back from Hermione.
Bloody Hell! Not again!
Ron gave Hermione one quick hard hug and whispered, " I promise," in her ear before releasing her and taking in the scene around him.
It was even worse than he expected. His father looked unnaturally grim. He was accompanied by a few other Ministry types and Harry's favourite, the Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour. Luckily, Percy was absent.
Charlie stood behind and gave him a shrug and an apologetic look. The Twins who were with him could barely contain the glee on their faces, which looked as if Christmas had come early. Ron groaned inwardly. They would make his life a living hell after witnessing this touching scene.
Worst of all standing a little to the side, appearing frightened and confused , were Hermione's parents. They were accompanied by an uncharacteristically subdued Tonks and Remus Lupin. Hermione's father gave Ron a look, which he had no difficulty at all interpreting as " Hands off my daughter!"
The moment dissolved. Ron had one final look as Hermione turned, raised her hand in quick acknowledgement and was firmly escorted from the station by her parents and the two Aurors.
" Son," his father spoke at last. " These gentlemen would like to speak with you."
They had now been in the Ministry office for over two hours. Ron's red-haired temper had been getting steadily hotter and hotter until he was ready to explode.
Didn't these unspeakable fools know that she and her parents were in grave danger? Why weren't they taking better measures? The Death-Eaters knew where she lived. How could Tonks , Lupin and two Ministry Aurors do anything if the Death Eaters mounted a full out attack?
Scrimgeour pompously came to the end of his extremely long and convoluted speech.
" And so, young Weasley, we thought you might be the best person for this assignment.With Ministry and family assistance, of course."
The room quieted. He could hear the buzz of the lights and the flap of wings of a young owl who sat in a perch above the desk. There was an expectant pause.
" Ron, " Charlie had a hand on his shoulder and a warning in his eyes and his voice. Ron knew Charlie realized that Ron's temper was at a breaking point. Charlie's message was clear – not now and not here.
Ron made a supreme effort to clear his head. What the Ministry wanted was surprising. The research in his father's Muggle Department had turned up possible use of Muggle technology that might assist in the War against Voldemort. Ron was a little fuzzy on details but the main thrust was easy to understand. Apparently a certain type of mind was preferable when dealing with the Muggle "mockputer "– no-"computer" technology. He, according to his Hogwarts Professors, possessed that type of mind, which shocked him a great deal. His skills at chess, his abilities at Quidditch, his abilities to visualize moves in advance were what was needed.
If it was only sitting in a Ministry office, he guessed he could handle it.
But no! So far, they had not been able to do anything with the computers in the magical environment of the Ministry. What they needed was a wizard with the right kind of ability to work in a Muggle environment with a Muggle computer and a person who understood Muggles and Muggle things.
Fill in the blanks. Ron Weasley at the Granger residence with Dr. Granger's computer and Dr. Granger's daughter, Hermione, Muggle girl and witch extraordinaire.
Let's just conveniently forget about the fact that both his family and the Grangers were under attack because of his, Ginny, and Hermione's relationships with Harry Potter.
Let's just forget about the fact that this little plan would put everyone, especially the Grangers, in more, not less peril.
Let's just forget about the fact that he'd never had this much responsibility before and maybe he just wasn't up for it. He was only seventeen, for Merlin's sake! (And now of age, a little voice in his head reminded.)
And then a peculiar thing happened. He saw her face clearly floating before him, gazing at him open-faced with love – yes, - love in her eyes.
He took a deep breath. Right then, he told himself, it didn't matter. She mattered. They mattered. Their families mattered. And Harry mattered. He had to be up for it. There was no other choice.
" Ron," this time his father said it, concern in his voice.
" Right then, " Ron said in as matter -of –fact voice as he could muster. " When do we start?"