Title: Second Time Around
Author: Billybob - csagun36
Chapter: Two
Chapter title: Opening Gambit – The Game Begins
Category: AU alternate universe ¼ PGFH Post Graduation from Hogwarts
In other words; it takes place after J. K. Rowling's - seventh and last book
Word count: 4841 (plus or minus a word or two)
Rated; PG-13, for adult language, UK slang and profanity, with implied sexual innuendo
Pairings: HP-HG, CC-OQ, HP-GW and HG-RW
Author's disclaimer: This story is based in the wonderful magic world created by J. K. Rowling, she owns all legal rights to the characters, setting, etc. - I am merely borrowing the contents of the JKR world for my own amusement and that of my readers. In other words…her characters…my plot - savvy?
Author's thanks: to Dennis and Mark for beta-reading this and M&I
It was a small shop really, barely noticeable as people walked by. It was squeezed into the tiny space in-between Ollivander's Wand shop on one side and the 'Second Hand Robe's for all Occasions' shop on the other. Mr. Ollivander himself had disappeared seven years ago for just under six months, before being freed during a raid on the estate of Walden Macnair, the former Ministry for Magic executioner turned Death Eater. Once free, the old wizard with the silvery moon-like eyes reopened his business as if he had merely been off on holiday, never speaking to anyone about what happened during his imprisonment by the Death Eaters.
The tiny wizard chess shop was also at the same end of Diagon Alley, in fact literally across the lane from, the always-busy 'brand new' location of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes joke-shop. An establishment which had just relocated to these larger premises, as their previous location had proven far too small to accommodate even half of their ever expanding list of merchandise.
With all the noise and excitement from across the way, the tiny board game shop dedicated to the selling of wizard and Muggle chess boards and strategy guides, both for beginners as well as masters of the game, went unnoticed by most shoppers spending the day in Diagon Alley. Still in-spite of the distractions from across the lane, over the years the Black Knight Chess Shop had developed a respectable number of very loyal clients.
Black Knight Chess Ltd. had been in business in Diagon Alley for nearly five years and its' owner Jonathan Veselkin, had lived in the small flat above his shop quietly for four and a half of them. Jonathan was procrastinating over the final stages of moving out of Diagon Alley to a small unplotable cottage just outside of the village of Hogsmeade, with only a box or two of odds and ends still remaining in his old flat. A two bedroom flat, that Jonathan had turned over 'virtually rent free,' to his shop assistant the month before.
The reason for the move was the hope of regaining his much-treasured privacy. Being hounded by the press for the last three years was a price that Jonathan had been forced to pay due to the insatiable appetite of mainstream media for stories about his wizard chess accomplishments.
Jonathan, the four-time all UK wizard chess champion, was about to attend the all-European competition in late September where he would be the defending champion yet again, as he had been for the last three years. Until he left for Rome where the event was to be held, Jon intended to stick to his normal daily routine at his shop as well as complete his move out of the magical portion of London and away from the small number of hard core wizard chess 'groupies' that even a physically disabled war veteran like Jonathan seem to attract.
Jonathan or Jon to his friends, had won the world title twice in the last four years and his fame as a wizard chess player had contributed greatly to the success of his small chess shop. During the last two years, with the help of a couple of beta readers, he had written and published four books on Wizard Chess strategy. He wrote one advanced tactical guide for the masters of wizard chess as well as three books just for beginners learning the game. These beta readers being necessary because his grammar, punctuation, spelling and sloppy writing style was nearly unreadable to anyone except his proof-readers.
It had been the gradual but steady increase in business in his tiny chess shop during the last few years that had prompted Jonathan to take on a shop-assistant. The young girl he had chosen had been right out of Hogwarts and desperate for a job, any job. She had been a Ravenclaw, class of 2001, and her name was Orla Quirke.
All in all, hiring Orla had proven to be a very smart move on the chess master and part-time author's part. As a disfigured war veteran, Jon had never regretted taking on Orla…calling her 'the beauty' to his 'beast'. Legally blind and horribly scared due to his war injuries. Jonathan felt obligated to conceal his disfigurement with a head to toe full body covering hooded robes and face mask. His appearance, of course, didn't help promote business, but hiring Orla, a pretty young girl, did.
During three years of working together Orla had only seen her employer and friend twice without his hood up, both times by accident. She insisted that his appearance wasn't that bad, however unable to see his own reflection in a mirror or photograph due to his near total blindness, there was just no way to convince the older shop owner that he wasn't as hideous looking as Jon thought himself to be.
Orla and Jonathan had developed over time a bit of a big-brother little-sister relationship. Orla, who had lost her parents in the final weeks of the war, had spent most of her summer holidays living with an impoverish aunt. Knowing the importance of family and only a few years older than his employee, Jonathan had sort-of unofficially adopted his shop assistant, with many people who didn't know better thinking that he was indeed somehow related to the girl.
Orla often commented that going to work for Mr. Veselkin had been a life saver for her emotionally, giving her a feeling of family that she had never gotten from her aunt. It had really been a case of being in the right place at the right time for both of them, for Orla had lost her parents roughly at the same time that Jonathan had lost his memory due to what happened to him during the fighting of the last battle of the second Death Eater war. Both had a burning desire to fill the void of family that Voldemort had stolen from them. Both ended up filling that family void by creating an artificial big-brother little-sister, totally platonic relationship while working side by side in the little shop.
Being as pretty as she was though, proved to be both a blessing and a curse when it came to customers, her outgoing and friendly nature gave Orla the kind of charm that made older customers want to come back to the shop due to her eagerness to help.
Young men, on the other hand came to the shop to flirt with the attractive shop assistant in the hope of getting dates. This was where the overly protective big-brother aspect of her relationship with Jonathan proved to be such a gift from Merlin, for instead of firing the girl for wasting time with these unwanted suitors, Jon threatened or ran off any bloke that Orla didn't approve off.
Orla's current boyfriend was, Colin Creevey, a young photographer and reporter for the Daily Prophet. Jonathan, after watching the pair closely for months, was beginning to believe that after three years and too numerous to count boyfriends, Orla was getting as serious about Mr. Creevey as he was about the girl he all but literally worshiped.
Jonathan was a great believer in true love, although he felt that cupid had passed him by, he had high hopes for Orla finding her prince, and Mr. Creevey was as likely a prince as the Wizarding World produced theses days. Besides, Jonathan liked the boy, who he had first met when the lad had come to his shop for an interview and picture concerning his first all UK chess championship.
It was ten o'clock when Jonathan went to open-up his shop that morning, Chess players were not normally early risers on Mondays so the shopkeeper hadn't expected to find anyone on the other side of his door when he unlocked it. Much to his surprise, young master Creevey was waiting to get in, champing at the bit with eagerness in fact.
"Come in my boy," the hooded and masked wizard said with a chuckle. "I'm afraid that Orla is having a bit of an unintentional lie-in this morning after that party you took her to last night. You know, I should be cross with you for keeping my shop assistant out so late, but as Mondays are rather slow normally, no harm done."
"How did you know…?" Colin asked surprised
"Flooed in about ten minutes ago lad," Jonathan said continuing to open up the shop by lifting the binds and pulling dust covers off of display cases.
"Oh, that's alright sir, I wanted to chat with you too," Colin said.
"Whatever for, no trouble with Orla I trust?" Jonathan said pausing in his chores. "Remember Colin if you hurt my shop assistant you'll have me to answer to!" said the hooded wizard half-heartedly threatening the boy with obvious humor. Or maybe you wanted my permission for something else perhaps?"
"Oh no sir, everything is fine in that department. No it's about an assignment I have going. I'm looking for a bloke I took a picture of at the UK nationals. Wonder if you know him?" Colin said pulling out a bigger and better copy of the crowd picture that the one seen in the prophet by Molly and Arthur.
"Now Colin, you should know by now that with the particular kind of legal blindness that I suffer from, I can see clearly for about seven meters (almost 20 feet) and that's more than enough for most things. However, the down side to my handicap is that I can't see pictures, in color or black-and-white, magical moving or Muggle still life ones. You're just going to have to describe this chap to me." Jonathan said in a disappointed tone.
"Sorry sir, I forgot…Well um…let's see then …he's tall, five-ten to six-two, I'd say …thin and he's got lots of flaming red hair." Colin replied
"What else?"
"You don't need anything else sir, this bloke was famous. I think the bloke in the picture is Ronald Weasley, the war Hero. He attended Hogwarts at the same time as Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.
"Ronald…Weasley, where do I know that name? Is he related to the Weasley twins who own the joke shop across the way? No, that's not it…hang on, I remember now…that's the Weasley mentioned in Dr. Granger-Potter's book. Part of the Potter boy's 'Golden trio,' the laughable dimwitted sidekick right?
But hold on, your picture can't contain an image of Ronald Weasley. According to the book 'Golden Trio, the Potter years at Hogwarts,' he's supposed to be dead; they say he died in the same battle that scared me for life.
"Yes sir, that's what everyone, thinks," Colin replied in an excited tone. "But they never found any trace of his body and the 'Crematoria' jinx doesn't burn everything, I'm told that metal things like zippers and belt buckles survive," Colin argued. "Besides no one knows if that was what he was actually hit with, everyone assumes it was the Crematoria spell because no body was found, but it could just as easily have been the fire-ball jinx, people survive that, Bloody-hell sir, you survived that."
"Barely…Colin, just barely" Jonathan replied tight lipped.
"I'm sorry sir. I didn't mean to bring up…" Colin said horrified at his slip
"That's alright Colin, heat of the moment and all that, just…never mind." Jon said cutting off the boy's apology.
In an awkward silence that lasted for a minute or two, the two men just stood there unmoving eyeing one another and then the stillness was abruptly broken by the shop door flying open, as Orla, the flustered and winded, 'late-for-work,' shop-assistant of Black Knight Chess came rushing into the shop, sweeping right by the two silent men at the front the shop without noticing their presence, as if her hair was on fire and her arse was catching.
"JON…WAIT TILL YOU HEAR WHAT I SAW IN THE PROPHET THIS MORNING! Orla yelled toward the back of the shop, oblivious to the men standing behind her, as she yanked off her travel cloak.
"Would that be Ronald Weasley by any chance?" the shopkeeper said smirking as he saw his shop-assistant jump and squeak in fright at the voice coming from behind her. She spun around fast and had her wand in her hand before you could say, "Bob's you're uncle."
"Easy Orla, don't compound being late by jinxing your employer," Jonathan said chuckling.
"Sorry sir." Orla replied, blushing red in embarrassment as she lowered her wand.
"As I have already had this discussion with the boyfriend you described last evening as marvelous and his description of the bloke in the paper matches just about anyone who is tall with red hair I will forgo hearing it again. Besides over the years I have had countless chess matches with numerous redheads. Instead why don't I just fix us all a spot of tea, while you calm down and greet your boyfriend with a 'good-morning luv' snog?
Several hours later:
Ministry for Magic:
Department for Magical Law Enforcement:
Office of Auror Deployment:
He had his own private office, a plush one at that and he had not yet turned twenty-five. He was half way up the Auror chain of command, in charge of an entire section of the Auror elite, a rising star in law enforcement, the most famous Auror in bloody history and he was…bored clear out of his mind.
The Death Eaters were for the most part long gone, thanks in large part to his efforts among others and yet Harry Potter found little joy in this fact. Following his last year at Hogwarts, Harry had gone directly into Auror training, putting off his so-called honeymoon with his so-called girlfriend-bride for a minimum of two years.
Not that Hermione had any more desire than her husband to spend two weeks in a romantic hide-a-way. Seven years after Ron's death and they had still not gotten around to taking a Honeymoon. "Not that they would any time soon either," Harry thought to himself. Because by mutual 'unspoken' agreement the Potter's avoided each others company whenever possible. In fact, Harry had not seen nor spoken to his wife in…what was it now…eight, no nine months.
Funny wasn't it, the way all the newspapers avoided mentioning the fact that two of the best known heroes of the final battle with the 'Dark-lord' after seven years of so-called marital bliss had still to produce a single offspring? Something else that was very unlikely to happen considering the way they felt about each other.
"What was it that Hermione called their marriage," Harry thought to himself as he sat behind his solid oak office desk waiting for his last meeting of the day. "Ah yes…penitence for past sins. Our self-imposed 'Living Hell' for the cold blooded premeditated murder of my best mate and the one and only love of Hermione's life…Ronald Bilius Weasley."
"Seven long and lonely years of self-imposed celibacy, well on her part anyway," Harry mused to himself as he sat in his office awaiting the arrival of his boss Kingsley Shacklebolt. "It was a huge mistake, getting married after graduating Hogwarts," Harry said in the empty room thinking out loud. "I don't know why I let everyone talk me into it. …a gesture of unity for the sake of the country…my arse! It may have done Jolly old England allot of good but it didn't do squat for me or my love life." Harry declared bitterly.
"A living breathing human rival I can compete with, but the ghost of a loyal and faithful until the end friend and lover, I cannot. Damn you Ron, for dying that night, and damn me for listening to Hermione and waiting for you and your sister to 'cool off' before apologizing for that stupid 'half-baked protection plot' that Hermione came up with.
"How long am I going to have to pay for a twenty minute…lousy snog with a frigid bookworm? It's been seven years Ron, stop haunting me…let me have a life, please?" Harry pleaded out loud, as his boss entered the room.
"When are you going to stop blaming Ron for your own screw-up Harry?" Kingsley asked as he walked into the room. "Ron didn't force you to slap and tickle Granger in that charms classroom or to marry that shrew of a frigid know-it-all a year later. That my friend you did all on your own.
Besides, your wife was right about the effect of what you now call her 'half-baked-protection-plot.' Because from what you have told me, the ultimate goal at the time of the great charade was to make Ginny Weasley less of a target for the Death Eaters. Post battle interviews with Death Eater prisoners all agree that after you and Hermione broke-up with the Weasley's, their placement on Voldemort's death list went way down as Hermione's climbed. By the time of the final battle outside of Hogsmeade, the entire Weasley Family was very low indeed on old Tom's priority list. That's what you wanted, wasn't it."
Yeah, I suppose so," Harry replied half heartily.
"So why be upset with success, her plan worked perfectly, it was the collateral damage that followed that irks you. The fact that seven years later most of the Weasley's and all of your former classmates won't give you the time of day, in fact they all seem to hate you and your wife. Your problem Harry, is that you and the good Doctor forgot to take into account the old saying that; 'No good deed goes unpunished,'" Kingsley said suddenly serious.
"Well-well old bean, thanks ever so much for that touching bit of wisdom and moral support, I am overwhelmed with gratitude," Harry sarcastically replied.
"You're welcome kid, but I didn't come in here to massage your fragile ego. Besides, Hermione has suffered more for her little scheme than you did. After all, you at least had the opportunity to explain your plan to a 'living' Miss Weasley and ask for forgiveness, she on the other hand never got the chance to do that with Ron…until now!
"Ron's dead Kingsley, so exactly how can Hermione explain things to a bloke who died seven years ago"
That's why I'm here Harry; I have come to give you both the chance to put the ghost of Ronald Weasley to rest."
"Speaking with the dead is impossible, Merlin knows, Hermione spent several years trying, and Aurors don't do exorcisms, it's the unspeakables that handle hostile spooks and specters, and you know that." Harry replied in a sour mood.
"You need to get laid Harry…bad." Kingsley said shaking his head sadly. "So why don't you cut out early, go see that lady friend of yours and then come back here tomorrow morning with the proper attitude for this assignment."
"Can't, she cut me off, for good this time" Harry said, his depression over the news obvious.
"Why, we both know she loves you, the head over heels forever kind of love."
"She wants kids"
"Oh"
"Yeah…Oh, And I can't give her any, you know that. It would ruin her career and not do our kid any favors either…Bloody marriage law!" Harry said bitterly.
"You are the kind that would divorce and remarry right away wouldn't you? The law was written to prevent the very kind of musical chair marriages that you're proposing you know," Kingsley said not unkindly.
"Scrimgeour's parting gift to the Wizarding World, an unbreakable marriage law that traps unhappy couples in loveless marriages, well surprise-surprise, Rufus's pet project hasn't increased the magical population a whole lot, now has it?
Making any out of wedlock child unable to go to Hogwarts, stand for O.W.L. or N.E.W.T.'S exams or hold a job at the ministry hasn't really helped matters, has it? Punishing a bastard child for the sins of their parents is just wrong Kingsley, and you know it!" Harry shouted at his boss in anger.
"Feeling better now you got that off your chest…yet again?" the old wizard asked shaking his head at his younger protégé.
"Yes…No, Merlin's beard I don't know anymore." Harry replied throwing his hands up in frustration.
"I've tried to get the Minister to review your petition for divorce Harry, but as long as Hermione refuses to even consider the concept, his hands are tied. Even if the Minister did go along with it, your wife's non-cooperation would doom the special decree before it ever came up for a full vote in the Wizengamot.
It is going to take something truly colossal for the assembly to nullify the marriage of the savoir of the Wizarding World and we both know it. If you and she were anyone else…," Kingsley said shaking his head sadly
"Yeah, yeah I know, if we were any other couple you could slip it into a apportions bill and no-one would notice, but Hermione and I are symbols of the sanctity of marriage, the pride of the Wizarding World…La-dee-da.
Why can't we…for once, be treated like a pair of no-bodies, dumb kids who made a stupid mistake seven years ago? Yeah I know the story of why I can't get a divorce, chapter and verse, and I explained it all to her, but she has red hair for a reason you know, she is as stubborn as her brother was and once she makes up her mind, there is no changing it," Harry said resigned.
"You're just like your old ex-friend Ron, both of you were attracted to strong willed independent women. But you don't have to stay with type you know, there are plenty of girls who would queue up for a roll-in-the-hay with you kid, drop-dead-gorgeous horny as a mink in heat birds, dozens of them…"
"…but none of them are Ginny, Kingsley, not one of them holds a candle to her." Harry said interrupting his boss and friend as he slumped back into his chair.
"You had to fall for one of those didn't you Kid? Well I am sorry for you but there isn't much I can do for you except this," the old wizard said sliding a file across the desk toward the depressed savior of the Wizarding World.
"What's this?" Harry asked barely looking up.
"A ghost from your past," the old man replied.
Becoming curious in spite of his mood Harry flipped open the folder, revealing a small stack of parchment clipped to a Daily Prophet moving picture, the same moving photograph that had caught Molly Weasley's attention that same morning.
Harry's eyes focused on the picture for only a moment before slowly going wide in disbelief. Exactly as Arthur had done hours before, Harry, took a two handed grip on the picture and studied it intently for a few minutes, mumbling to himself;
"Impossible…it can't be… they never found his body… no it just can't…."
"The Department of Mysteries has gone over that picture very carefully Harry, there are no glamour spells being deployed or disguise spells evident, poly-juice was considered and discarded. For any hairs of Ronald's still around would produce a copy of a seventeen-year-old version of your old friend and the bloke in the photo, whoever he is, clearly is in his mid to late twenties.
"A look alike then or a stupid prank," Harry replied trying to explain away the unexplainable.
"Perhaps, but then explain the way that man walks, or more importantly the classic Weasley smirk of triumph on his face.
Do you know who brought this to my attention, Harry? Two Diagon Alley experts on practical jokes and pranks, two businessmen who knew the man in that picture better even than you did. They insist he is their lost brother, and threatened me with living hell if I don't find him and restore him to his family as-soon-as-possible. The twins think we have been hiding him somewhere, that you have had him locked-up in Azkaban all this time just to keep him away from your wife." Kingsley said smiling
"They think I want to keep Ron away from Hermione, are they daft?" Harry said in stunned disbelief. "An alive-and-kicking Ronald Weasley would be my ticket to freedom, he was the only bloke to get her hot and bothered and the only bloke she ever considered shagging.
I would pay every last knut I own to bring him back, because with him alive the greatest bookworm in English History would find a loophole in that bloody marriage law so damn fast Ron would find himself tied down, spread eagle on his back starkers in the middle of her bed before the ink dried on the divorce decree.
A year from now Hermione and Ron would be well on their way to having a house full of red bushy-haired brilliant rug-rats crawling around and Ginny would be my wife and firmly in the pudding club. Believe me Kingsley; no-one wants Ron to be alive more than I do."
"Yeah I know it, well here's your chance, I was in the order seven years ago but my memory of Ron isn't all that good, so after the twins paid me a visit, I took a copy of that picture to Remus Lupin and as far as he can remember that bloke in the picture is Ron. When I got back to my desk I found two howlers, one from Bill the other from Charlie, apparently the Weasley grapevine was working overtime this morning. Even Percy stopped by and asked about developments.
"The editor of the Prophet flooed me at lunch, she has had a dozen owls with inquiries about the red-haired bloke, hereafter referred to officially as the RHB, and she claims she is stalling them. Now Theodora Grimnews of the Prophet promised to sit on this story for twenty-four hours, but my sources there indicated that she already has one man working the story, an old school chum of yours out of Gryffindor, one Colin Creevey, do you remember him at all?"
"The camera nut, oh that's just…Peachey!"
"My guess is he has almost a full-day head-start on you, and just so you know my sources at the Prophet also told me that Mr. Creevey had two visitors this morning, and it was only after these visitors left that Mr. Creevey asked for time off for "personal reasons" those visitors Harry were none other than Arthur and Molly Weasley. So it appears you're up against a full court press from Clan Weasley. The only one of the brood silent on this issue is the youngest and according to her flat mate hasn't been seen since Wednesday last week.
By the way, Fred and George are not the only ones wondering about the coincidence of Ginny abrupt disappearance and Ronald's sudden reappearance. Just so you know, they 'ALL' blame you for that too, seeing as according to her flat-mate you were the last one to see Ginny alive Wednesday evening," Kingsley said in the tone of a question.
"Wednesday was the day she told me we were over, until I get a divorce from Hermione," Harry said sadly. "She can't take being called my 'mistress' anymore, and I don't blame her one bit."
"Well then, find the missing Hero and all your problems are solved…right? If it's a 'hoax' we throw the bugger into Azkaban and lose the key, if the RHB is the really your former friend Ron, we strip him naked tie him up, stick a fresh rose in his teeth and then toss him into the lionesses den and then run for it before the mating season starts, either way…problem solved."
"Oh, yeah. Find someone who no one has seen in seven years, a bloke who may, or may not know who he is, in London a city of several million people, needle in a haystack…yeah boss…Nothing easier!"
To be: Continued. This story will benefit the most by positive feed back reviews.
Author's post chapter note: Yes, Mark and Dennis, the co-writers for Jon mentioned in the above chapter is my tribute to your help as beta readers, for it is you who make this tale an enjoyable read, thanks a-ton guys