Second time around

by Billybob - csagun36

It is said that “the road to hell is paved with good intentions”. What if this old saying was applied to Harry and Hermione? What if, in an attempt to protect Ron and Ginny from the Death Eaters, Harry and Hermione had concocted a plan which although su

7. Chapter 7

Title: Second Time Around

Author: Billybob

Chapter: Seven

Chapter title: Knight to H3

Category: AU alternate universe ¼ PGFH Post Graduation from Hogwarts

In other words; it takes place after J. K. Rowland's - seventh and last book

Word count: 21,916 (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 gives huge thanks: to BuckNC, Dennis, Mark, and Wayne for providing the plot bunnies, as well as beta reading this mess into a readable…if admittedly 'wordy' story.

Place: Potter Manor, Godric's Hollow.

Time: early-evening Saturday

It had taken some major arm twisting to get the Minister of Magic to make the announcement concerning the Potters' change in marital status, especially with the short notice behind the demand. Governments whether magical or Muggle, are not fast moving creatures, they prefer to take their time and ponder over every angle of a request so as to see both the pro's and the con's of an issue. Their goal is not so much as to be 'right' in their decisions, but rather to cover their backsides from any possible fall-out that might affect the credibility of the way they govern and their own positions of authority.

In making this hasty announcement during the latter stages of the press conference following the Veterans of the Second Death Eater Uprising Remembrance Day Ceremony, the Minister's political handlers felt that the seventh anniversary of the last battle against the Death Eaters would provide more than necessary cover for what they hoped would be regarded as a minor personal F.Y.I. announcement, suitable for the back inside pages of the Daily Prophet, or at most the celebrity gossip section

The Minister, being a former accountant was considered a wise, if somewhat penny-pinching woman. She quickly realized that she faced the almost certain destruction of her political career if the most famous Auror in England resigned over a personal issue. Also, her steadfast support of the Marriage Law would suffer greatly if a certain unpleasant truth was revealed concerning the internal relationships (or lack thereof) within the Potter marriage, faced with such a political disaster, Madam Minister begrudgingly complied.

This would not be the first or the last time that political handlers misjudged the press. For instead of the first three pages of the Wizarding world's media covering the seventh and therefore magically numbered anniversary of the end of the second Death Eater Uprising. Nearly all of the media both print and wireless, dumped their memorial coverage in favor of the same banner headline that the Daily prophet ran with.

"POTTER/GRANGER MARRIAGE ANNULMENT ANNOUNCED TODAY!"

To the great disappointment of the Minister and his personal staff, the editors of the magical media worldwide believed that the 'Potter Problem' would sell more newspapers than the recital of boring longwinded speeches made by Politicians...imagine that!

The threat that brought about this huge political uproar had been made by none other than the 'famous' Harry Potter, Auror extraordinaire, Hero, Chosen One and Savior of the Wizarding World...Blah-blah-blah. For you see…Harry had used his fame just as Kingsley had suggested and bluntly promised to resign in protest if the Minister refused to grant his 'immediate' request for an end to his marriage to Doctor Hermione Granger Potter.

The Minister, by choosing to support the creative bit of fiction that Dr. Potter had suggested and by publicly announcing that there had been a 'technical' problem with their first marital bonding ritual, allowed the reluctant Minister to have her cake and eat it to, for by finding a way around making a very big exception to her steadfast no divorce policy she gave Potter what he wanted and saved her political arse at the same time. By signing on to this cover story if the Potter Marriage had never been legally enforceable in the first place, then there was no reason therefore to technically grant a divorce.

For Harry, a divorce was his ticket back into the good graces of his favorite red-head, perhaps two if this particular bait drew a pair of fishes out of hiding. And he could help but delight in his newly won freedom.

888

It is often said that the hardest part of fishing is the waiting, every Muggle fisherman knows that and although Harry had never gone fishing in his life, he had been taught a lot of fishing analogies during Auror training, for killing time on stakeouts in law enforcement is part and parcel to the job itself. So just to pass the time, Harry had read and re-read all the 'Potter Annulment' accounts of the announcement in the Daily Prophet special edition as well as every other Wizarding World's newspapers a half dozen times to the point where he could almost gleefully quote them verbatim.

Although clearly nervous and worried on where Ron would snap-up the bait, Harry at the same time couldn't help but feel more than a little bit smug in his accomplishment. He had been spot-on in his long held belief that properly motivated, his now ex-spouse would be able to find an obscure loop-hole in the marriage law that would allow them both to escape the horrible mistake they had made six years ago.

This particular motivation had been provided by the return of a dead man to the land of the living This resurrection not only filled Hermione with an unshakable resolve to reconcile with her jilted lover returning from the grave, but it also had the favorable side effect of bringing Hermione 'literally' back from the brink of suicidal insanity.

For a moment, Harry closed his eyes and enjoyed a brief trip down memory lane, back to the time when there had been a trio of best friends. For one brief split second Harry savored the feeling of warmth that came from remembering how things use to be before he had made the biggest mistake of his life. The start of another term, the smell of parchment and dust books, watching the color of the levees change as autumn set in earnest, see old friends back from holiday.

However such moments were always short-lived for his memories were always spoiled when he recalled his part in the half baked plot. Harry's recollection of five years of happy times with the trio turned bitter in his mind when he compared them to the seven years of misery that followed the Charms classroom fiasco.

Instantly he was filled with feelings of regret followed with a healthy dose of self-loathing. It had taken lots of therapy; to reduce the pain he felt whenever he recalled that his Best Mate had died thinking that Harry had stabbed him in the back. His therapist had insisted that Harry learn to live with the pain of regret for as much as Harry might want to; there was no way to make amends to a dead man.

His therapist had been right and wrong at the same time, something that happens more often than most people realized in the fuzzy world of Psychology. While it was true that Harry couldn't make amends to the dead, the reports of Ron's death had been as the old quote went, 'highly exaggerated.' The phantom Red Headed Bloke as seen in the Prophet the week before hadn't been an impostor bobbing in and out of existence; he was the real, genuine, article. Somewhere in England right now there was a breathing, strutting about, Weasley smirking, always-hungry Ron Weasley. And Harry Potter would be damned if he was going to surrender without a fight, his one chance to find closure with his former Best Mate…one way or the other. Either by making things right with the one and only genuine life long friend he had ever made, or take his well earned punishment from a man he had wronged, then hook back up with Ginny and get on with the rest of his life.

Sure Ron was making things difficult for him, sure he wanted to put the past behind him. Harry didn't blame him one bit, because Best Mates didn't do, what Harry had done, to his Best Mate. Ron may indeed have had good reason to believe that bringing back the Dragon ring to his unconscious ex-girlfriend was his farewell appearance. He might actually think he was free of both of them for good, but that git had another think coming!

That red haired prat could hide in the deepest and darkest hole in Hade's underworld realm and Harry would hunt him down and drag him back into the light of day. He would drag that prat by the hair right to the 'Burrow' and dump him in Hermione's lap for the whole Weasley Family to see. Bloody Hell, Ron could call himself Harvey or the Easter bunny if he liked, Harry didn't ruddy care! Hermione wanted him back, so did his family…and no stubborn git determined to fade back into the woodwork, or prat from the Ministry determined to do him in was going to stand in his way.

A few feet away Hermione sat in a high backed chair near the warmth of the Potter Manor library fireplace, looking careworn, dangerously thin, and frail to the eye. And yet, as weak as Hermione appeared physically, there was a presence about her, poise, a dignity, and a sense of unshakable determination that was most akin to that of a religious fanatic about to go on a holy pilgamage.

Harry Potter stopped in his pacing to make a comment on Hermione's newfound reason for living, her mission in life now, the finding and the romantic chatting up of one Ronald Weasley. Gaining a Weasley's forgiveness was not an easy task to be sure, especially as Ron had proven to be surprisingly allusive, but now that the Pensive had given undeniable evident that he was in fact alive he'd…

Hold on…what in Bloody-hell. Harry said to himself as he abruptly took notice of exactly what his ex-wife was doing, or rather what she was holding in her lap and then…well, Harry just lost it…plain and simple.

"DAMN IT Hermione!!!" he shouted.

Crossing the distance between them in four quick strides, Harry reached out and snatched the Portable Pensive they'd used at the hospital, right out of Hermione's hands. Hermione was abruptly yanked out of her dream like trance and back into reality as if a bucket of ice cold water had been emptied over her head.

"WHAT IN MERLINS NAME DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING???" Harry screamed as Hermione's eyes refocused on the here and now, before he continued in a forced calm tone.

"The Healer's discharged you from Hospital under protest…DAMN IT! They were extremely reluctant to let you go home and it took considerable pressure on my part. Plus, no small amount of reassurances from you that you 'WOULD NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES' exert yourself, 'physically, mentally or emotionally' for any reason," Harry shouted his finger pointed directly at Hermione's face. "Going back into that portable Pensive again and again to relive his visit to your Hospital room, violates your promise not to exert yourself in all three categories."

Harry ran a hand through his hair in frustration as he gathered his thoughts. "Bloody-Hell, Hermione, do you want to end up a permanent resident in the same ward alongside Lockhart and the Longbottoms? Because if you keep sneaking Pensive visits to your memory, that's exactly what is going to happen.

Hermione, in response to his sensor, hung her head down in shame.

"Look, Hermione, Kingsley and I have gone over that encounter of yours a dozen times. There is no information that we can gleam that will help us track down his whereabouts, but seeing as you don't believe us, lets review again what we know so far.

One, Ron in the pensive made a number of wizard chess references, two, the item that brought the possibility of his being alive was a moving photo of some bloke that looked a lot like the old Ron outside of the Greater Britain National Wizard Chess Championships. However, like I already told you that lead turned out to be a dead end. You and I have always known about Ron's obsession with Wizard Chess and I told you that I personally showed the Prophet picture to all the hotel workers and UK Chess officials I could find and no one recognized the bloke in the photo. I had Aurors show the same picture around any shop that sell chess sets and no one admitted selling any kind of wizard chess related material to anyone matching the description of the RHB or red-haired bloke as Kingsley and I called the fellow before he turned out to be Ron. Our conclusion was that Ron went to the National championship as a spectator rather than as a participant as none of the events officials recognized him." Harry said shaking his head sadly in regret.

Third, the use and mention of a quote 'get-up' or disguise. Several eye witnesses have claimed that the last sighting of Ron during the battle depicted him as being on fire from head to foot and rolling down an embankment near to where he defended you…"

Hermione's head shot up at this, her eyes filled with tears, the pain obvious on her face, and she could see her sorrow reflected in his face as well, and there was a brief pause before a choked up emotionally Harry could force himself to continue.

"I have spent long hours going through the medical records of all the survivors of the fireball hex at St. Mungo's and the three field hospitals set up to handle the casualties from 'Voldemort's' last stand. There were two hundred and seventeen fireball hex cases, with seventy eight survivors still alive as of last week.

However, there is not one unidentified 'John Doe' in the lot. Each and every one of those who suffered burns serious enough to require magical cosmetic repair to their face and or body had an established name. There is no reason that Kingsley or I can come up with that would explain why a seriously injured Ron would deliberately hide his identity from his family, especially as this was a solid year before the Golden Trio was published. Avoid us yes, avoid his Mum…no.

Finally, the so-called new name and life that he was smart enough not to mention any specifics about. Kingsley is calling in a favor with a bloke he knows at the Ministry, checking to see if any of the known survivors of the fireball hex have applied for a name change in the last seven years, it's a long shot but worth a try. All in all, I can't see anything we have overlooked, Hermione, Hanna Abbot admits to telling Ginny where and why you were in hospital, but the question from Ginny and her response was via owl and Hanna didn't think to put a tracer spell on the bird."

Hermione head sank back down and Harry could see tears of remorse slowly dropping in his ex-wife's upturned hands, but for the life of him, he couldn't think of what to say to lift her deepening depression, or his own for that matter.

"We've baited the hook as best we can and now it's a matter of waiting, but take heart in the fact that at least we're in the game at last! He has pretty much had his way up to now, this is a good counter, and it's his move--"

"He's not there Harry!" Hermione said looking up at her former spouse with misery plain as day on her face, mostly ignoring Harry's heated rant. "I've listened to him six times now and in each 'visit'…my Ron…just isn't there. The man in this memory may be Ron physically, but he's not…MYRON."

"What are you going on about, Hermione?" Harry retorted. "Of course that's Ron, he brought you back the Dragon ring, he knew about the inscription inside it, something neither one of us had a clue about. Sure he has a grudge going against us both, who in Merlin's name would blame him, after what we did to him. But don't start having doubts about this, not now! The bloke in the pensive is Ron, no mistakes about it." Harry stated emphatically.

He was now seriously concerned that Hermione was cracking up, her determined pose of mere moments ago replaced by an emotionally shattered shell of a woman.

"You don't understand what I mean Harry, I agree that the man in the Pensive is Ronald, your right he knew too much about me…about what we did to be an imposter. It's not what he said, Harry, but rather the emotions behind his words that keeps stabbing at my heart. Hermione explained from her chair nearly overwhelmed emotionally.

Remember Ron telling us…well me actually, that not everything was to be found in books, warning me that I over analyzed things, that I should think less and feel more! So that's what I've been doing during my pensive visits, looking past the words and concentrating on the emotions behind them.

I made Ron cry, Harry, just by being in the same room that I was hurt him deeply…emotionally. The Ron I remember rarely cried, not from physical pain and not from my calculated verbal cruelty. However the person in the pensive cried, openly sobbed so hard he couldn't speak. This is what I did to him, Harry. I broke him, crushed his spirit, I alone destroyed one of the kindest gentlest souls to every live…I'm a detestable thing …"

"CODSWALLOP," Harry shouted his face red with anger mixed with his own feelings of guilt. "First off, it wasn't you alone; WE DID THIS TO HIM, THE TWO OF US TOGETHER! I spend an entire year in bloody therapy coming to grips with my share of the blame for what 'WE' did, so don't you dare try to take it all on yourself."

Seeing her reaction to his confession, it appeared to Harry that Hermione seemed to be sinking even further into her self hating depression, sensing that he needed to change tactics quickly before she turned suicidal again he quickly added.

"Yeah, it was a mistake, and yeah it was your idea and all that rot. But you never blamed me for dragging you-lot off to the Department of Mysteries fifth year, and that was my show, start to finish. So just put a leash on it, will you? Why does everyone think we are bloody infallible super-hero's? That's rubbish, Hermione, and you know it. I'm mortal, damn it and so are you, so is Ron come to think on it. He made his mistakes too with Lavender, all because he was jealous of Krum snogging you senseless and--"

"Krum, it always comes back to Viktor doesn't it? Hermione groaned in frustration. "I curse the day I ever agreed to go to the Yule ball with him. He was a lousy boyfriend; did I ever tell you that? Merlin knows, he was a sloppy kisser. After he left Hogwarts his letters contained just two things, boasting about his Quidditch successes and pleas for me to come and 'visit' him."

"Cormac, believe it or not, was even worse," Hermione griped mostly to herself. "He wanted just one thing from me, a quick conquest and a notch in his bedpost before moving on. None of them saw me as me, to Viktor I was the only girl who wasn't impressed by his Quidditch fame, to Cormac I was Ron's girl, and getting me was undermining a rival. No, Harry, the acknowledged boyfriends I had, including you, were all ruddy disasters, and part of me knew it going in. You never loved me and neither Viktor nor Cormac could hold a candle to my thick as a post about girls, publicly unacknowledged boyfriend -- Ronald. When I think of all the letters I wrote to Viktor just to get…"

"Hermione, stay on subject will you," Harry pleaded. "This doesn't explain the why you obsessed with the contents of that portable pensive, now does it? And I had my teenage romantic missteps too, or did you forget about Cho Chang?"

Harry knelt down in front of Hermione so that he could see the remorse on her face and he acknowledged the angst in her tone. She had been torturing herself non stop for years and it was killing herself by inches.

"Don't do this to yourself, Hermione; we are both guilty for what happened. It was a team effort, remember? Hindsight they say, is always 20/20, and do try to keep in mind that we didn't plan for the consequences of getting carried away with a simple practice and being caught red-handed before you had the chance to break-up with Ron. Crikey, Hermione, we were only seventeen at the time and things got out of hand after the charms classroom fiasco.

Like most of the things I did back then, once I got a notion in my head, like going down to the Chamber or running off to 'rescue' Sirius at the Ministry. I didn't want to 'waste time' thinking about precautions or after-the-fact consequences; I just went with it, come what may. I was so sure I was doing the right thing that the after action cost didn't matter. The half baked plot was just another example of my over-confidence that the short term pain we inflicted on those we cared about would result in the long term gain of their safety."

Hermione shook her head sadly, her gaze directed at the hands cupped in her lap. "That may well be true for you, Harry." She said with a sigh, "I should have called off the whole thing, when we got caught, but I didn't. Your right, we were just two arrogant teenagers back then, Harry; we thought doing the right thing was better than doing the easy thing. Rushing off half-cocked into harms way without thinking things through was a hallmark of the Golden Trio. But it wasn't over-confidence that doomed our efforts from the get-go, it was our conceit. The -- we know what's best for everyone mind-set that I was famous for."

Hermione shuffled her hands in her lap as she looked straight ahead at the library's fireplace.

'I thought that keeping Ron and Ginny in the dark about our plan would make their reaction to it more believable, especially Ron who I knew was lousy at lying. You always blamed yourself whenever Voldemort hurt someone and protecting Ginny from harm was your number one goal. As for me, I was the smartest witch of our age." Hermione declared sarcastically, "I was dead cert that no matter what I did to Ron, verbally abusing him, I was absolutely sure he would always love me.

Hermione swallowed a bit of air for energy to say what she had to say next. "That's the ultimate form of conceit, isn't it Harry? It never entered my mind that Ron wouldn't be there waiting for me when our little charade was over and done with. I was right about Ginny though as it turned out, wasn't I? It took you a long time to get her to forgive you, I counted on Ron being able to forgive us, Harry; I took it for granted - really.

After the war was over, I was sure that all we had to do was calmly sit down with Ron and his entire family and just explain our protection plan calmly and rationally and we'd get instant forgiveness. Then Ginny and Ron would love even more for the steps we had taken to safeguard them from the Death Eaters. The loneliness that we caused them, the humiliation and pain of the imagined betrayal by their best friends would be forgotten once the truth was known. I was so conceited in my belief that they would be waiting for us, no matter how long it took, it never entered my mind that they both might move on to find love elsewhere or that…one of them…wouldn't survive the war!" Hermione said breaking down into tears again.

Harry placed a heavy hand on Hermione's sobbing shoulders, guilt nearly overwhelming him too. He too had taken the 'always be there waiting' aspect of their plan for granted as well. "Don't beat yourself up over this; I felt the same way, I too was sure that we'd all…survive, somehow, I also though that there would be a 'later' to sort things out."

"You were the lucky one. There was a sorting out for you, Harry;" Hermione declared bitterly, "Because Ginny was still around to apologize to…but my Ron wasn't! We thought he died that day!"

Harry reached out and placed his hands on top of Hermione's and gave them a gentle squeeze in understanding, offering her his unspoken support.

"Harry, he doesn't know if he hates me or loves me and where has he been, all these years? I can understand why he might not want to be around us," wailed Hermione, "but there has been zero contact with his family for seven long years…why hide from them?"

"I don't know, Hermione, that's the question that has been driving me mental ever since his abrupt return. For seven long years nothing and then all at once, Ginny breaks it off with me and then disappears. A few days later someone who looks so much like Ron that Arthur and Molly see this alleged Ron impersonator in the pages of the Daily Prophet and start a search for him, eventually the whole Weasley Clan is on the hunt, even the twins weigh in by threatening Kingsley, although their motivation is unclear.

I keep asking myself, did Ginny find him or did he find her? Why not contact the rest of the family? Is Ginny being disowned the reason Ron has refused so far to reveal himself to his parents? I've got loads of questions Hermione but not one single bloody answer.

What gives me any hope at all is that Ron's first contact, other than his sister had been to come to St. Mungo's to return the dragon ring to you in person, when he could have owl posted it. But he didn't just post it, did he? He somehow heard you were in hospital and he had to came and see that you were all right. He came in his Weasley get-up, just so you'd easily recognize him. My guess is that he wanted a face to face with you, while you were awake, I'll bet he was as much disappointed at not being able to chat you up as you are."

"Great Merlin's Ghost, Hermione, he didn't come to St. Mungo's and risk being caught because he didn't care about you! He came because he does care, even if he does recognize…yet, how much. I not saying it's going to be easy, getting him to even talk to you will be loads of fun, Hell, I've been down that road with my own red headed Wheezy and I know it's not a smooth path.

Something traumatic happened to Ron in the last fortnight, something so earth shattering that it compelled Ron against his better judgment to reveal himself to us again. I don't know what it was that caused this, where he has been or who he is now, but that will have to wait until he responds to our latest move. We need to draw him out of hiding…we need to make amends, put the past behind us once and for all and get on with the rest of our lives, for his sake and our own."

"Do you really think I have a chance with him, Harry?" Hermione pleaded, the desperate look on her face underscoring the importance of the question. Harry knew he couldn't lie, for his former wife's sanity depended on the truth.

"To be honest with you, I'd say a conditional…yes! Ron has given up everything for you Hermione, if he hated you, he wouldn't have bothered.

I warn you though it won't be easy, chatting him up, that is." Harry said in a thoughtful tone. "He seemed to me in that pensive memory to be emphasizing his desire to distance himself from his former self…you know, the new name, new everything. He seems to want the quiet life I always craved," Harry said with obvious envy. "You on the other hand seem destined for fame and glory at the Ministry. So the way I see it, for any chance with him at all, you're going to have to asked yourself, exactly what are you willing to give up for him?

Honestly though, I don't think we have a choice about letting him fade away again like he said. Can you truly believe that either one of us can continue to live with the guilt of what we did hanging over our heads for the rest of our lives. Well I can't, -- even if he tells me to rot in hell and never speak to him again, I will at least have the satisfaction of saying how sorry I am for what happened - to his face."

After a few moments of silence, Hermione nodded her head in understanding. Her shoulders straightened somewhat as she was filled with a fresh resolve. Wiping her eyes and cheeks clear of tear marks; she once more embraced the future pushing back the regrets of the past that threatened to overwhelm her. The youngest woman to ever head the Foreign Office at the Ministry once again met her former husbands face embarrassed at behaving so girly. Harry smiled at Hermione's discomfiture but refrained from teasing. She was in no condition to deal with light banter, her hold on sanity being such a frail thing.

Besides, Harry had something else to think about, so as he stuffed the offending pensive into the pocket of his robe, Harry's mind was once again filled with questions and worries. Hermione had been spot on about one thing, where had Ron been all this time? Why after seven years did he abruptly decide to rejoin the living? He was with Ginny that much was certain, his reference to his little bird made that plain, was she the one behind his return? His mind filled with thoughts made it impossible for Harry to stand still any longer, so instinctively and without another word he returned to the activity he had been doing ten minutes earlier.

888

Hermione watched Harry as he pace back and forth in front of her with a tiny smirk forming across her face. Hermione's emotional rollercoaster ride set aside for the moment until something else would arise to trigger another bout of self-loathing. They were dealing with their frustrations and anxieties differently. Where she preferred to lament and vent her troubles verbally, her former spouse was more of a man of action, internalizing his own remorse by pacing up and down the length of the room like a caged lion,

Her former husband was clearly worried over their first aggressive countermove in a chess game that had up to now been dominated by Ron. However, as he paced back in forth Hermione noticed a familiar spark of determination that the one time bookworm hadn't seen in years. A 'spark' that told her that despite everything Harry was still unwavering in his desire to see this reconciliation attempt to its end, one way or another.

By unspoken agreement, Hermione said nothing more on the subject and neither did Harry. It soon became apparent that the only option they had at that moment was to wait. The late afternoon of waiting for a response labored into early evening and two formerly married people, now just friends again, waited very impatiently inside their private home. They waited for the fish to snap at the baited hook they had left in the water. Whether the bait would be taken by a Ginny-fish or a Ron-fish was still unknown, but both were nervously waiting for the bobber on the line to bounce.

"Oh, do sit down Harry, all your accomplishing at the moment is wearing down a very expensive carpet," Hermione declared finally with a worried frown.

"I paid for this ruddy carpet, so I can wear it out anyway I like. Merlin this is maddening! We should have heard something by now, even if it's just a bloody postal owl tapping at the ruddy window. What more does he need, an engraved invitation? The announcement in the 'Prophet' was clear enough for him to work out that we want them both to come in from the cold. I can't see how you can be so bloody calm about all this? If this doesn't work…" Harry replied the worry obvious in his tone of voice.

"Of course it will work, don't be daft." Hermione said getting some of her old spunk back. "Ginny has been waiting years for you to be free of me. She's more likely than he is to respond to our bait, remember the pensive, he wants to disappear again. When Ginny comes out of hiding, she'll lead us straight to him, one way or another. Ginny is the key to solving this mystery, Harry," Hermione said as she turned to stare into the embers of the fire, contemplating a decision for a moment or two before bring up a touchy subject. "By the way, did I ever tell you your mistress and I had a bit of a row about a month or so ago?"

"No, you didn't tell me," Harry replied coming to a halt in front of her chair. "Did this row have anything to do with the reason why you stopped wearing your wedding bands?" Harry asked short tempered at discovering this 'meeting' just now.

"Yes, as a matter of fact it did. The conversation we shared was a real eye opener for me Harry. She forced me to take a good hard look at my life for the first time, and I must admit I didn't much like what I saw." Hermione voice becoming softer as the sentences flowed from her mouth as she glanced down at her trembling hands. "That night, after I got back home from seeing her, I did some soul searching. Then the following morning I made an appointment with a mental health healer, the very best in England in fact.

Hermione fidgeted in her seat more than a bit uncomfortable about sharing something so personal.

I have been seeing her three times a week for a month now. It's been hard, you know, facing the truth about myself. You always have this picture in your head of how you hope other people will perceive you, and it's rather a shock to face the cold mirror and stare reality in the face. My therapist has held up that mirror for me, made me see myself as I really am, With her help I have begun to face my inner demons, those imposed on me by others like my parents, and those I made myself. Harry…I thought, I really thought that I had been making good progress…until Friday that is."

"Don't kick yourself too hard about…what happened, you've been under a lot of stress at work with that Italian trade deal and all…" Harry began trying hard to show sympathy for Hermione's illness. The sympathy for this kind of thing came easily for Harry, for he had traveled a similar road with his therapist almost two years ago.

"Harry, try to understand," Hermione began. "My …breakdown began after my little chat with Ginny, when I was finally told the truth about Ron's 'friendship ring'. Any road, like I said before I went to get professional help concerning certain issues. In therapy I had come to realize that I was using all the hours that I put into work to also put off facing the failure of my personal life. Harry, even you will have to admit that I have never made friends easily. In fact we share that shortcoming in common you and I. You, because of your status first as the 'Boy Who Lived', and then as the Chosen One and finally as the 'Savior of the Wizarding World', being a hero to so many people makes it hard for them to see you as just a regular guy."

With a bitter smile Harry nodded his head in agreement.

"My problem was and is different, from early on the only way to get any attention at all from my parents was to be the best at everything. But being first in every class comes with a cost, according to my therapist, she insists that my obsession with always needing to be right and the arrogance that went with it, was resented by any potential friends I approached. Looking back at it now, it does explain why Ginny was the only female acquaintance that ever came close to being a real friendship. I never developed the social skills required to deal with people or to express my emotions."

"Hold on here! -- you made friends, Hermione, -- me and…Ron, the three of us were odd ducks right from the off," Harry said with a warm smile. "Before the end though, Neville and Luna joined our little clique, so you weren't as big an outcast as you imagine."

"Friends…did I really Harry? Wasn't I like some nagging mother most of the time, a bossy know-it-all? Please don't bother to lie to me, Harry. I know I was a shrew, its one of the perks of therapy based on Veritaserum, where you only speak the truth and can only see the truth in yourself. So tell me, why did you-lot put up with it?"

"Well…ah, Ron use to say…" Harry began before being interrupted.

"Exactly, my point Harry," Hermione said interrupting, with a frantic edge in her tone. "It was always Ron who kept the trio going, he was the one who told a joke at just the right moment to ease the tension, and he was the one to drag you off for 'guy-time' when he saw me stepping on your final nerve. If there was an odd duck in the trio it was Ron, I was a know-it-all bossy cow and you were a moody self loathing 'got to save the world' idiot.

You and I, Harry, were the dysfunctional ones, not Ron. Did you ever sit down and figure out how utterly vital Ron was for us to be on speaking terms with just about anybody for six long years. That insufferable thick headed prat all but single handedly prevented me from being friendless during school. He saw you though countless bouts of despair when you blamed your self for just about everything.

We, you and I…owe Ron everything…damn it! I just calmly threw away my one real shot at happiness, because in my conceit I thought that I knew what was best for everyone. There has to be a special corner of the underworld designed for fools like me, No wait, worse than a fool, I belong in the final Circle of hell, because I am the betrayer of a kindhearted decent man. Whose only lasting fault was in putting his trust in me. I'm so smart and yet so stupid." Hermione said before beginning to sob openly.

"Final circle of …what? …Get a hold of yourself and tell me what are you yammering about Hermione?

"Dante's Inferno, Harry, have you ever read it?" Hermione asked, with a near panic look in her eyes.

"Don't be daft Hermione, I only read books I'm forced to read, just like…"

"…Ron, yeah Harry…I know! You never did read Hogwarts, A history," Hermione said with a sigh. "Dante described in his book a special spot reserved for people like us Harry, people who went two-faced and rejected good men, people like Ron.

For the first time in twenty-four hours, Harry James Potter released a laugh that he meant. "So smart and yet so stupid, you were just a teenager Hermione, we both were. We made a mistake and got carried away by the heat of the moment and…"

"Your only mistake Harry was in listening to me and my half baked plot." Hermione wailed in strained anguish.

"No, Hermione. Stop this. I don't blame you for that, I agreed to your plan, it kept Ginny safer than she would have been otherwise. No Hermione your plan worked, and when Ron died…or we thought he died and things…well, things went to hell that's all. But that doesn't mean you're 'GOING' to hell."

"I shouldn't have forced you to marry me, I didn't want to be alone for the rest of my life and…" Hermione said beginning to cry once more.

"You weren't the only one who felt alone," Harry responded, kneeling down to touch her knee affectionately. "We weren't on speaking terms with anyone during seventh year, and after the book came out, I was shunned by more than just the Weasleys. People either hated me or worshiped me as a God. Everyone was pressuring us to get married so as to fulfill their own fantasy of 'happily ever after, and they ride off into the sunset' malarkey.

No, don't blame yourself for our marriage; we both wanted a safe harbor to go home to. When I lost Ginny, I didn't think I would ever find love again, and I didn't, not really. All I found was an imperial ton worth of drop dead gorgeous brainless bimbos who wanted bragging rights by shagging the Chosen One.

Besides to be one hundred percent honest with you Hermione, I was being rather selfish at the time. The way I saw it, we were at least friends, and although I knew I didn't love you the way I did with Ginny, marring you was a real good way to keep the gold digging harpies off my back. Any road, we have drifted off topic again, because you still haven't answered my question. Why did you take off your wedding bands … and come to think on it, I have an even more important question for you. How did the dragon ring, which you never took off, end up in a display case in the Veterans Museum at Hogsmeade?"

"Oh, my, your right of course," Hermione said wiping away her tears, "I guess I do owe you and explanation for that, don't I?"

"Hermione, I'm so sorry about that, I didn't know what it was, and…"

"…No need to apologize Harry," Hermione interrupted with a weak smile. "Had I known that prat was going to pop the question before hand; I doubt our plan would have ever seen the light of day. Stupid as I was about expressing my romantic feelings for Ronald back then. I believe that even someone incapable of saying I love you out loud, would have managed to mumble a YES to an outright proposal of marriage."

"Even after hours of absorbing the startling information gained through the pensive, it still amazes me that he was prepared to take that step at seventeen. In spite of the harsh way I treated him and he still loved…me!" She said softly staring off into the distance, with a huge grin on her face.

Harry looked at Hermione's face and returned the smile. "Whether you're 17 or 70 Hermione, Love is Love."

With this simple yet very true statement the former Mrs. Potter refocused on her former husband and offered him a smile that was resolved and serene. A smile, that Harry hadn't seen on Hermione's face, in close to seven years. 'Some things never changed…thank Merlin". He thought to himself. "Hermione Granger was still truly and deeply in love with Ron even after all these years. Hopefully this time around, she will be able to admit to that love out loud and Ron will have the generosity to accept it. Because if he doesn't…Merlin, I don't think she would be able to stand living in a world where Ron could reject her."

"Any road, as I was saying," Hermione said after a moment or two of daydreaming. "My therapist believed that for me to put my painful past behind me I had to divest myself of everything that reminded me of my earlier mistakes. She talked me into binning the old jumper of Ron's that I stole from his trunk sixth year but I couldn't do the same thing to what I thought was his 'friendship ring' …I just couldn't do it! So instead, my therapist suggested that I try to wean myself off of my attachment to the ring in gentle stages, first, by loaning it out to the Hogsmeade Museum for the Remembrance Ceremony. I didn't understand, nor did my therapist apparently, the effect that the Dragon ring's theft would have on my fragile mental health.

"Yeah, it was a bit of a shock to all of us" Harry replied.

"Its theft, however painful, was transformed in delight when Ron himself emerged from…death to slip it back onto my finger." Hermione declared her voice calm and deadly serious, with a look of unshakable determination in her eyes. "That sweet prat of mine slid it onto the wrong finger, but that minor mistake has been rectified. Not one member of the trio was any good at expressing how we felt verbally Harry, I was the worst of the lot it seems as Ron was able to say those three words that I could not…at that time." Hermione stated, and cleared her throat before saying at that time.

"Your right you know, actions do speak louder than words and his little visit to me in hospital proves it. I always knew that Ron loved me by all the things he did for me over the years and in spite of his little farewell speech his actions sent me another very different message. By coming to hospital himself, instead of as you say, owl-posting the ring back to me, by placing that double Dragon engagement ring onto the finger of my left hand I concluded that my long lost prat of an ex-boyfriend wasn't really saying goodbye to me at all.

What I believe he was actually doing was unconsciously proposing marriage to an already married woman. I can't have two husbands, it's against the law, and so I realized that one of you had to go. Sorry Harry, right then and there I decided to sack you as a spouse." Hermione declared in a deadly serious tone while wearing an amused smirk on her face.

"What's this? Don't I get two weeks notice, how about severance pay, maybe a letter of reference?" Harry replied with a smile. …Okay, okay…I'll go quietly. Now, that explains the dragon ring, but what about our wedding bands, Dobby told me you haven't worn them since…ah, I see, you took them off after your row with Ginny."

"Well done Harry, you got that in one go. Yes my chat with your paramour made me realize that I was standing in the way of one of us getting a life. When my therapist agreed with my conclusion, I began to take steps to set you free to marry Ginny. That is where my self imposed punishment of celibacy within our marriage paid off dividends. Knowing the current Minister of Magic policy of zero divorces, all I had to do was find a legal way to declare our marriage non-binding.

Being a twenty four year old virgin, with a six year marriage filled the bill perfectly. For after all, a Wizard-Witch marriage is based on a law that dates back to the reign of King Arthur Pendragon, and it was composed of two parts the ceremony itself and the consummation of the ceremony. Without both, no marriage is lawfully binding under Wizarding law.

It took me time to figure this out and obtain the seven sworn statements by four certified reproductive healers and three Muggle doctors that specialize in fertility problems. I was going to discuss an exit strategy from our marriage with you after the Remembrance ceremony, but…well you know what happened Friday!"

Suddenly the face of Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared in the fireplace, he being one of the few people authorized to get though the privacy wards at the home of the Potters. He seemed rather pleased with himself, which was in sharp contrast to the worried expressions on the faces of Harry and Hermione.

"Harry! Harry, are you about? Ah, there you are. Well done, I must say. Frankly, I wasn't expecting a reply this quickly, in spite of my theory that our so called red-haired-bloke had been watching you lot via the newspapers. Still, all in all, I'm not complaining, not at all, but that's not why I Flooed you. I known he said to come alone and all that, but I think it would be more advisable for you to have a couple of my Auror lads in the village when you meet him.

"Kingsley, what are you going on about?" Harry snapped, in no mood to joke around.

"Merlin's beard, you mean you don't know? Didn't you get a copy of the Daily Prophet's special edition this evening?" Shacklebolt asked puzzled.

"Yes we did, several copies, in fact…WHAT ABOUT IT?" Harry shouted his temper rising quickly due to lack of sleep.

"It was in the personals column, back in the classified section. A full-page advert, I can't believe you missed it," Kingsley stated, surprised.

Harry Potter's jaw clenched as he cursed his own stupidity. He had fixated so much upon the lead article announcing his annulment that he had ignored all other sections of the wizarding Newspaper.

"Harry, calm down," Hermione said weakly from her chair next to the Floo, "Yelling at the man and damning yourself is counterproductive." Hermione turned her attention to the chief Auror and offered him a conceding tilt of her head in apology for at the moment she was experiencing a brief lull in her mood swings.

"I am sorry, Kingsley. Things have been a bit tense here today. Would you be so kind as to tell us what you saw?" Hermione inquired of Kingsley in a soft tone, hardly able to move from her chair, thinking once again that she had left hospital too soon.

"It's a full-page advertisement, Dr. Granger," Kingsley said as Harry ran back over to the table where he had tossed aside the still untouched portion of the newspaper's classifieds portion. "By the way you two, I've had a 'talk' with my contacts in the 'Eliminate the Weasley problem' faction within the Ministry and they were happy to hear that the bloke in the Daily Prophet turned out to be just a look alike. Our chore now is to make sure that the real red-headed bloke goes along with the cover story. Lucky for all of us, from what I recall in the pensive, I don't see that as a problem. He has a new name now and wants nothing to do with the old one,"

When Hermione heard this she lowered her head and shook it sadly knowing she was to blame for the death threats against Ron's due to her stupid book.

"Third page in the classified section, Harry," Kingsley shouted from the fireplace.

Harry tore so fast though the pages he missed it first time round and had to back up to find it. A quick glance at the message and Harry was instantly convinced that his former friend had been its author. For Hermione's benefit he read it aloud.

"You stole the ring I meant to give, and gave it in your own name.

You stole the dreams of a dead man, tell me…have you no shame?

You had it all…fame, good looks, and massive wealth, but that was not enough.

I lived each day from hand to mouth. Just getting necessities was tough.

Looking back now, I should have known I never really had a chance with her.

She tossed me aside without a second thought, just a poor-as-dirt Goal Keeper.

To protect her I became expendable, betrayable, and easily cast aside.

Attracted to irresistible wealth and fame she was, with me just a regular guy.

I can't really claim you stole her; she was never mine to begin with, apparently.

You took her from me, and then you cheated on her, from what I hear, repeatedly.

Bouncing-ferret was a self-centered backstabber; but I never use to think that of you.

But if you want forgiveness for what you did to me; well…here's what you could do.

Go Sunday night to the place where we drank butterbeer, and be sure to come alone.

Eight-twenty is your time; your one chance to make amends, for your sins atone.

Bring someone with you and we will not meet, for this offer is good, for only one night.

I have been dead and can be again, you'll never find me - if you don't do this right.

You can suspect all you want, rant and rave until you blue in the face, because.

I need no magic to be unrecognizable, nor can you ever prove who I once was.

So this is your one and only chance at closure, if it is forgiveness that you crave

It's your one shot chance to do right by me, but only if you behave.

When Harry looked up from the newspaper, there were tears dripping down his cheeks. Hermione had completely broken down and was sobbing openly again. Kingsley wisely chose to remain silent for the few moments it required for Harry and Hermione to regain their composure. As it turned out, it was Harry, who broke the silence.

"Now there is no doubt, this is Ron. And he's calling me out into the street for a show down like in a Yank Muggle Western. What in bloody-hell does he think this is 'High Noon' with Gary Cooper?

"Harry, how do you know about…?"

"It was my aunt's favorite movie," Harry replied waving Hermione off, thinking hard. "But …this still doesn't feel right; why a face to face? He's changing the game midstream, I expected him to rise to the bait, but this isn't like the Ron I remember. He was far too good a chess player for this kind of unsubtle frontal attack."

"I'm coming with you," she said not as a request, but rather as an unalterable fact.

"Like hell you are," Harry, shot back.

"Hermione, Harry's, right on this one, if you go with him, your favorite chess player from Hogwarts won't go anywhere near him. If Ron, is half as good at this Muggle disguise stuff as I think he is, he could literally sit down at the table next to yours in the Three Broomsticks and you'd never know it," Kingsley said, trying to head off an argument.

"Don't be an idiot Kingsley, I didn't mean that I would let him see me." The physically weak Hermione replied, showing a tiny bit of her former spunk. "We still have Harry's invisibility Cloak, and there is also a very hush-hush new 'Transparency Jinx' that the Department of Mysteries just developed for the Auror department that is supposed to be not only undetectable but also non-removable by anyone except the caster, I could even use that to…"

"...How did you learn about that?" Kingsley interrupted angrily. "It's supposed to be top-drawer secret. I just learned about it on Friday. In point of fact, I haven't told anyone in the department yet, not even Harry."

"It doesn't matter how I know," Hermione shot back with equal heat. "What matters is whether or not you're going to try to stop me from talking to Ron this time, and not just lay there like a royal arse, listening to him admit he still LOVES ME, AND BE UNABLE TO DO BUGGERALL ABOUT IT." Hermione screamed at the top of her lungs at the head sticking out of the fireplace.

"I love that man! I always have and always will, and if you give me five minutes alone with that git I'll finally…get the chance to tell him that…to his face." Hermione continued trying hard to regain 'some' control of her emotions. "I have to come with you Harry, can't you see? It's obvious from what he wrote in the newspaper advert, that he believes that I wasn't conscious during his visit to my Hospital room and therefore didn't hear what he said to me," she said with a frantic edge to her voice!

Harry said nothing to her, even though he had made up his mind that he was going to seize this last chance at redemption.

"Seven years later and nothing has changed, Ronald is still thick about what women want. He still thinks that all birds and I do mean my entire gender, are fixated on material things. That all women everywhere prefer the company of rich, good looking, powerful, influential men, over the average everyday blokes of the world. Agghh!

He's not alone in his steadfast belief, in this crazy stereotype of course, the media loves to report stories of mega-rich old wizards married to twenty something drop dead gorgeous bimbos, the gold diggers you were talking about earlier, Harry. What Ronald always failed to realized, is that there are exceptions to everything and that fame and wealth isn't the only things that makes a bloke attractive."

Hermione paused for a second to wipe the tears off her face before she continued.

I should hexed that twit for still believing that Victor's or Harry's wealth and fame were things that he just couldn't compete against. He was wrong about those things seven years ago and he is still wrong now. What I want, what I've always wanted, was a man to make me feel safe and loved, a man I could depend on no matter what. I only wanted one man, I truly wanted him."

That's why I have to talk to Ronald, Harry, explain why we did what we did and apologize for not trusting him with truth behind our little act of deception. You have Ginny's love to go back to now that you're free and I'm happy for you…really. You don't need to find Ronald again to be happy for the rest of your life, Harry…BUT I DO, I NEED HIM BACK IN MY LIFE, and…and…I WANT TO BE HAPPY AGAIN," Hermione sobbed her nerves frayed to the breaking point.

"I'll do anything it takes," she said regaining her fragile self control. "If I have to get down on my knees and beg him for forgiveness, I do it if it gives me another chance to prove that I have never stopped loving him…I have to convince him of that…" Hermione broke down into tears again, overwhelmed by emotion.

"Harry understood Hermione's desperate need, and he felt like a world class villain for what he was about to say. "…I'm sorry, Hermione, really I am, but I can't risk it. I need my chance to ask for forgiveness too. The advert was addressed to me and it said to come alone. If he figures out you're there with me…no, I can't let you come. But after our meeting is over, when everything is squared away between us, I'll demand he give you your five-minutes, I swear I will! But right now it's still his game, it may appear that he is coming in from the cold just like we wanted, but I played too much chess with him to think he is coming in dumb.

Besides, even if I wanted you to come, Hermione, you have to face facts, you're as weak as a new born puppy and can barely stand right now. So tell me, exactly how are you planning on 'walking' into the Three Broomsticks?"

"…I'm going, Harry, my mind is made up and you can't stop me!" Hermione interrupted franticly.

"Sorry, Hermione, you're just going to have to stay here until I get back" Harry retorted.

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At precisely 8:20 the following evening, the outside door to the Three Broomsticks opened to reveal a cloaked figure. This figure paused in the open doorway and surveyed the room. Pulling back his hood as he finally allowed the door to close behind him, Harry Potter carefully examined the patrons of the crowded bar with great interest, all of his Auror skills on alert.

The pub was unusually busy for a Sunday night due to all the visitors still in the village from the Remembrance ceremony the previous morning; some of the veterans had wanted to spend an extra day or two so as to walk the battlefield on the actual day of the fighting without a load of tourists and reporters underfoot. Harry hadn't counted on that; but he was more than willing to wager that his so-called 'thick and dim-witted' former wizard chess opponent had known there would be a larger than usual crowd in the Pub when he arranged their meeting, for it meant that there were plenty of strangers in the Pub which would make picking out one particular non-local next to impossible.

Out foxed yet again and not knowing what kind of disguise Ron would be wearing, Harry smiled grimly at the chess skills his old friend was employing as he made his way toward the bar to speak to Madame Rosmerta. He was surprised when she met him half way with a smile and said. "Right on time, Mr. Potter, the room you reserved is upstairs, second door on the left, room number three.

"Room number three and I reserved it?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Why yes…a tall, well built, green eyed, blond-haired bloke came in yesterday afternoon and rented it for you. Paid cash in advance, he did, and here you are right when he said you'd show up. He also told me to tell you if you arrived before him, to go up, sit down and be patient, and he'd be with you shortly," Madame Rosmerta said with a smile.

"He's not in the Pub now?" Harry asked, scanning the crowd for someone that matched that description.

"No, - I would have pointed him out to you the moment you walked in if he were. Besides, I'm sure he would have approached you and led you upstairs himself if he was here. Your blonde haired friend said he might be late, and asks for you to wait upstairs. Or weren't you listening?"

"Yes, I'm sorry. I am a bit nervous about this meeting, that's all," Harry said, once-again scanning the room in a futile attempt to pick out Ron.

"I can see that, deary," Madame Rosmerta said. "This bloke you're going to meet isn't one of the old Death Eaters still at large, is he? I don't want a jinx battle in my pub."

"No…no, it's nothing like that. He is just an old schoolmate I haven't seen for several years. We didn't part on the best of terms and this is our chance to bury the hatchet," Harry explained.

"All right then…up you go, and no fighting, mind you," Madame Rosmerta said as she turned back toward the bar.

Harry gave the main room of the pub one final look-over before heading up the narrow stairway, more or less certain that his every move was being carefully watched. As it turned out, Harry was right about that, for sitting in a side booth facing the front and side door to the pub was a brown haired severely scared war veteran, who wore an oddly shaped eye-patch contraption over his left eye. This non-local had carefully observed every move Harry had made since entering the Pub.

888888

His exposed right eye was still blue although it couldn't see even half as good as it use too and when you combine his near blindness with all his scars and patched clothing it gave the overall impression of a pirate right out of a Muggle buccaneer film. Jon had watched the conversation between Harry and Rosmerta carefully and only a Muggle would have recognized the rifle microphone he had used on the pair as they spoke in the center of the noisy pub.

Jon's Muggle addicted Dad would have been proud of the way he had applied magic to the Muggle eavesdropping device. And old Mad-Eye Moody, Merlin rest his soul, would have also been highly amused at Jon's use of Muggle technology to 'see' someone who would have been otherwise invisible, even to Moody's specially modified artificial eye.

Invisibility jinxes, cloaks, and other such magic items did indeed conceal people from the casual observer, but what they did not conceal was a body's natural heat signature. Infra-red and star-light night vision equipment, rendered even magically invisible people visible as moving heat sources, even if it failed to reveal their identity.

Jon's naked eye had seen Harry enter the pub alone, but the miniaturized infra-red equipment concealed under his eye-patch had seen two heat sources enter the room. Hermione, would have concluded as Jon realized that Harry had an invisible escort, which fitted in with the four other invisible people Jon had spotted on his way to the Pub at five minutes to eight. It was standard operating procedure for Aurors to stake-out a meeting place ahead of time, Moody had taught Ron that, constant vigilance and all - before the last battle, and Jon had remembered it.

Hooking up the 'Chosen one' with his sister in wedded bliss was the best solution to a tricky problem that otherwise would have meant Jon marring his own biological sister. Of course Jon had not really wanted to do that nor had Ginny, fortunately, fate had taken a hand in Ginny's little problem and Jon thought as he shuddered a bit, marring his sister wouldn't be necessary. Good thing that, because Jon's other idea, 'Plan B' was admittedly, much too complicated to have been practical.

'Plan B' would have gone into effect within days after Ginny's baby was born. Jon had intended to search the Muggle London mortuaries for a 'Jane Doe' of the right age, after which he would claim the body as his deceased 'wife' and magically alter the death certificate to list the cause of death as complications resulting from childbirth. A one-time only use of the Imperious curse on a Muggle clerk and Jon would have had a real marriage and death certificate, which would provide all the paper trail he would require to prove to the Ministry that the baby of the Chosen One's…mistress, actually belonged to Jon's and his now 'deceased' spouse.

Jon reflected for a second about Ginny being his wife in name only. Come to think on it, I even gave Ginny permission to continue her adulterous relationship with that disloyal Potter twit, pawning off any further children she had with her married lover as mine. After all, it wasn't as if I have any prospects of a love life of my own, not with the way I look starkers. The only woman I ever love…well, best to leave that subject alone, or I'll never sleep again'.

Plan B would have worked of course, thinking ahead of his opponent was something a good chess player must be expert at, if he intends to win, and Jon was an excellent chess player. No-one in the Wizarding World of the UK cared about the half-breed children of mixed marriages and Jon counted heavily on that fact.

But, all in all, getting Harry to marry his sister was the better plan. Ginny got the bloke she loved, Harry 'the git' Potter got the child Hermione hadn't been able to give him, and best of all, Jon got the chance to stay within his much appreciated 'relative' obscurity.

Another downside to the 'married to Ginny plan' was the fact that Jon didn't want to spend the rest of his life trying to explain black haired, green eyed children to friends, or try to avoid any contact with Ginny's parents who would no doubt want visitation with their grandchildren, maintaining the charade around his Mum and Dad would be bloody impossible.

But the biggest incentive to marry his sister off to the prat was that Jon liked his new life, admittedly he was lonely, but he cherished his privacy and most of all he wanted nothing to do with his former sidekick. If he never saw that backstabbing Potter prat again after that night, Jon wouldn't shed a single tear. The promise in his advert to keep the door to friendship open had been a necessary 'white lie', to get his disloyal ex-friend to attend this meeting. In truth, Jon was done and over with being in the high and mighty Potter's shadow.

Ginny was still under the Fidelius Charm so she couldn't tell Potter, Jon's new name or bring the traitor back to his Cottage. As there was absobloodylutely no way in Hades that Jon would ever pay a call on the Potter Estate it was unlikely that he'd ever see the Chosen One again. So, if everything worked out as planed, the new and Ginny-improved Potter's would become a part of a past that Jon wanted very much to forget. Harry Potter had helped kill his old name, what little fame he had now as the Master Wizard-Chess champion of England had been earned by his own sweat, rather than by being associated with the "Chosen-One" and Jon took great pride in that fact.

He was about to set his biological sister on the course to happy-ever-after land and, after she got the bloke she wanted, his sense of family duty to her would be done. He couldn't help resenting the fact that Ginny had gotten back together with and got put into the pudding club. By the same bloke who had helped destroy Ron Weasley, a name that Jon knew full well that he could never use again.

Nor did he like the distance he now had with Ginny since getting his memories back. She was as big as stranger to him now as Harry and the good Doctor Potter were. There were no time-turner's large enough to recapture the past, Jon was becoming more and more convinced that perhaps a clean break would be best for all concerned. A part of Jon regretted parting with his sister for good and yet he still wished Ginny all the happiness in the world with that backstabbing bloke.

Still, Potter and his Doctor ex-spouse moved in different circles than a lowly shop keeper. His fame would always set him apart from the common folk, and the brightest witch of the age, well…she had greatness ahead of her too. So perhaps fading back into the woodwork would be the wisest thing to do, and so, if everything went according to plan, it would be so long, farewell, and thanks for the fish to both his sister and that the scumbag Potter's, both current and former.

Because sooner or later the Weasleys would welcome Ginny back into the family, after all, grandchildren open many doors. Once that happened there would be no reason for Ginny to visit some tiny chess shop in Diagon Alley. She had sworn an unbreakable oath to keep his secret of his new name. The only way to do that would be to avoid him, and where he worked, which regretfully suited Jon just fine. Thus Ronald Weasley would finally be dead.

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Walking up the stairs five minutes after Potter went up, Jon entered room number one, closed and locked the door behind him and walked over to the wall that divided his room from the one next to it. Taking down a newly hung painting on the dividing wall between the two rooms and setting it aside, Jon exposed another bit of Muggle know-how in the form of a two-way mirror. A little bit of Muggle technology that Jon had installed that very afternoon as part of set-up for the possible wedding of his sister. The two-way-mirror had been the only way for the partially-blind Jon to see into room next door…number three.

Magic-users didn't need Muggle two-way mirrors; they had magical means to see through walls, which due to the injuries to Jon's vision during the last battle was unavailable to him…besides, using magic to see though things could be blocked by other magic, which tended to complicate things. The magic and counter magic battles over being a peeping Tom had gotten to the point, where the 'primitive' Muggle methods of undetected observation of others were for the most part overlooked. Jon now took advantage of this loophole to spy on the next room without being detected.

The look of surprise on Potter's face as he stared at the table in front of him was priceless. A good chess player engages in two games at the same time one on the board and the other in the mind of his opponent. Not about to miss the chance to mess with Potter's head Jon had set up room number three very carefully. In the center of an otherwise empty room was a wooden table and on top of the tabletop was a chess board with three pieces on it. A white King and Queen standing tall and proud and at their feet as if vanquished lay the broken remains of…a Black Knight!

The symbolism couldn't have been more obvious, for the King and Queen Jon had used represented his ex friends post war wealth and social standing in the Wizarding World. This will screw with Potter's head good and proper Jon thought to himself as he peered through the two way mirror and saw his former friend staring gob smacked at the chess set. Yes the checked-board battlefield has ruffled the great and mighty Potter's feathers more than just a little bit. I knew that rereading the 'Golden Trio' would pay off. Doctor Potter's description of the Giant chess set at the end of first year, although Jon didn't remember that year at all, the symbolism would still work against his ex-best friend and that was all that mattered.

Jon would have found the sight amusing, if he had not been required to fighting down intense feelings at seeing for the first time in seven years, the man responsible for destroying his name. As he looked through the two way mirror Jon paused to take stock of exactly what he did feel for his former best friends. "If not an extreme dislike like hate," Jon reasoned, "then what exactly do I feel? The opposite extreme to hate is love, and I know dead cert that Love is out of the question."

"Its time to face facts Jon, You really don't know this man anymore." He said to himself as he tried to rein in his anger, deciding that what he really should feel for Potter was indifference. "He is no more the boy who you trusted with your life, than you are the boy he deceived. Get this over with you daft fool! Do your duty to your disloyal sister and get them both out of your life for good."

For Ginny's sake Jon had set up this meeting and for her benefit and that of the child she carried he could forgive the things this rich prat had done to him so long ago. Besides, if everything went as planed in less than an hour, Ginny would have her 'happily ever after' with the bloke she fancied and Ronald Weasley would disappear again, full stop, the story over.

No, Jon didn't hate Harry Potter; he was instead completely indifferent to what happened to the most famous wizard now living in all of England. Hate belonged to the strong hot tempered Ronald Weasley, Jon deeply resented what Potter had done, but hate and resentment are two separate things. Jon was not Ronald, he was a different man than the boys in the memories he had regained.

He had as much forgiveness in him as any Weasley, and considering what Ginny had told him about her own banishment as well as Percy that wasn't all that much. This family tradition tempered Jon's unwillingness to forget what had been done to him. Theirs was a story a famous Prince and an unimportant Pauper, where people from different worlds didn't mingle.

Coming back from this moment of quite reflection, Jon glanced to the table right in front of the Chosen One where attached to a tri-pod, was a remote controlled Muggle video camera and beneath this device sat a small brown box that appeared to be an old fashioned intercom.

Once again Jon's Muggle-loving dad would have been proud, two Muggle devices enchanted to work within the confines of Hogsmeade hadn't been easy to pull-off. Jon had counted on Potter recognizing the devices, while at the same time hoping that his former best-mate was unaware of their limitations in a magical environment.

Jon could not see the image on a television monitor any more than he could see pictures or his reflection in a mirror, but Potter didn't know of his handicap. By setting up the camera Jon hoped to deceive Potter into thinking that it was the camera that allowed Jon to see into the room from a remote and secure location outside the village. Otherwise, the Auror that Harry was, would look for other means of Jon knowing what was going on inside the room.

It somewhat amused Jon to think as he turned on the intercom, that Harry had no way of suspecting that the Muggle device in front of him actually connected all four rooms on one side of the second story of the Three-Broomsticks. This wasn't going to be the private conversation that Harry might think it to be.

"If the two of you will please take a seat we will begin" Jon said in a monotone devoid of emotion referring to the two wooden chairs facing the camera.

Harry felt his blood go cold when he heard the voice come out of the intercom. 'Sweet Merlin,' He thought to himself. 'Did he say …TWO?'

"Ron, is that you?" Harry asked as he sat down, not bothering to deny that there were two people in the room. After all, what would be the point, it was clear Ron knew that he hadn't come alone, and to try to deny it now might cause a bad situation to get worse in a hurry. A moment later the unidentified heat source of the invisible escort that Jon's special eye-patch saw, sat in the remaining seat.

"Yes and No, Mr. Potter" came the cold reply.

"That makes no sense. You either are Ronald Weasley or you're not."

"In a black and white world that would be true Mr. Potter, but we don't live in a world of absolutes now do we?" replied the calm, disembodied voice.

"You don't sound like Ron and your word usage is nothing like I remember him either," Harry replied.

"Really? Well…personally, I think I sound pretty good for a dead man, but I understand your concern that I might not be the bloke you came to meet, so allow me to lay your suspicions to rest. Hmmm…let me see…Firstly, you don't talk like a seventeen-year-old because you're twenty-four now. You grew up so why not grant me the same privilege. Hmmm…Secondly, due to the nature of my injuries during the battle seven years ago, only a few of the memories of the person you knew as Ronald Weasley remain inside of me. I am what you might call a blend of 'who' I was before the battle and what I have been able to make myself into during the last seven years that came after it.

"I don't understand what you mean," Harry replied more than a little confused.

"Well, let me put it this way," the sarcastic voice from the intercom declared. "I read once in the novel, 'The Golden Trio,' that one of your most prized possessions was a photo album filled with pictures of your parents, - in fact it is your only source of memories of you parents…is this not true?" the intercom voice asked.

"Yes, that's right." Harry responded, his tone giving clear signs of being hurt by Ron's callus attitude.

"Well, imagine if you will that all of the memories of the late Ronald Bilius Weasley were contained in a giant photo album, a photo album that had been in a terrible fire. That's what happened to me you know, three Maxima fire-ball jinxes hit me at the same time, every inch of me was on fire, the pain was…well – unpleasant.

The Healer's at St. Mungo's were at a complete loss as to how I managed to stay alive. The pain and suffering that I endured by sacrificing my existence to protect your now former spouse from the horde of Death Eaters determined to kill your then publicly acknowledged girlfriend left me no better off in appearance that a overcooked Sunday roasted chicken.

I was one of several individuals hit with the Fire-ball hex that night, a good number of them died, burnt beyond any means of identification. I expired myself several times, or so I'm told. But on each occasion the healers were able with aggressive intervention to drawn me back to this side of the Veil. Apparently, it wasn't my time to begin the 'next great adventure' that Dumbledore was always going on about." Jon declared the forced cheek at the end, unable to conceal the emotional torment of the memory of that painful time.

"More than one matron chatted about it with her mates while applying burn salve to my disfigured flesh, they must not have realized that I could hear them when they speculated that I must have had someone very special to go home to if I was fighting so hard to stay alive.

They were wrong about that bit…weren't they, Mr. Potter. My memories were burned away by then so of course I didn't know that I'd lost the girl I loved to a bloke who had all the fame and wealth that I could never hope to compete against. Ignorance is bliss Mr. Potter; I learned that the hard way. Maybe if I knew back then who I really was, when my life hung in the balance after the battle, if I had known then how you and your…wife…would ensure how my life as the Trio's clown would be remembered. Perhaps I would have put less of a fight to continue my existence as a laughable sidekick." The voice from the intercom declared with biting sarcasm.

"I never thought of you as my sidekick, Ron." Harry voiced at the camera.

"I won't argue semantics with you Mr. Potter, it's a title regarding me that was repeated over and over in the Golden Trio, and I see no point in discussing at length who was responsible for it. I also refuse to bore you with details of my painfully slow partial recovery from the brink of death. In all your visits to the hospital wing during school as reported in your book, I don't think you had to spend almost a whole year just relearning how to walk. Attending to such basic things such as basic hygiene and feeding myself was a slow go and more than a little revolting.

I have been told that to escape the pain of the fire ball hexes, my mind threw up last ditch defenses in the form of strong mental shields. This is the reason that my memory of who I was before the Last Battle of the 'Second Death Eater Uprising' was blocked until just recently. Mental barriers so thick that even after my body healed, those mental fortifications guarding what few memories I still retained of who I was before the battle, held firm, consider it if you will a form of pain induced amnesia.

"Now my doctors both wizard and Muggle alike have all assured me," Jon said in an emotionless monotone, "that there existed a possible key that would unlock my past, something familiar that would set the memories of who I was free. However there was a catch, as there always is when it comes to these things. The key to my memory was something from my past, but not knowing who I was, there was no way to find the key. So I wandered about for years with no memory of who I was. During that time I built a new life for myself with a new career with a new name…"

"…until you came across the dragon ring in that display case," Harry said interrupting Ron's speech as he slowly made sense of why his best-mate in the whole world hadn't tried to get back in touch with him until now.

"Spot on, Mr. Potter, yeah you got that in one, ten points to old Gryffindor," Jon replied sarcastically. "However please leave all comments for the end of the lecture… thank you. That ring opened up a gap into what was left of the old memories of what everyone considers to be the 'late' Ronald Weasley.

Remember that photo album I spoke of earlier? Well all the memories of Ronald were in that photo album with each picture representing a memory. Now like I said the outside cover of this photo album was horribly burned, charred beyond recognition. Even after I got my hands on the key to unlock my memories, I was horrified to discover that the first pages of my memories had been utterly destroyed; everything of Ronald Weasley's prior to my third year at Hogwarts was gone forever.

However much I regret feeling any gratitude toward that book 'The Golden Trio' it did fill in a lot of blanks in my memories, up to small parts of third year anyway. I have even been told; by people I respect that the first three years of your authorized autobiography was for the most part accurate." Jon admitted with obvious reluctance. "It was only in the later chapters that my memories differed greatly from your and Dr. Potters version of events."

Harry jumped out of his chair and crossed over to take a two handed hold on the edge corners of the table. Leaning over, he screamed at the intercom box so forcefully the box actually trembled. "It wasn't my book, Ron; I didn't have anything to do with the writing of that bloody thing. It was all Hermione's show start to finish," Harry said in an attempt to head off any blame coming his way for the character assassination that Hermione's book contained.

There was a moment of silence following Potter's outburst, as if his friend was thinking over Harry's words of denial. When the disembodied voice replied however, the tone of disbelief and polite bitterness was clearly evident in its cutting sarcasm. "Are you trying to tell me that you have nothing to do with what the cover of 'The Golden Trio' that proudly proclaims to be the one and only 'authorized history' of the Chosen One's years at Hogwarts? Nice try old chum, but I'm not buying it. What kind of idiot would sign off on a book he never read?"

Me, Ron. I'm that kind of idiot. After the war, when you…disappeared. Hermione and I were a total muck-up. You weren't the only friend we lost that day, but we weren't allowed the luxury to morn. Blimey, the whole world went insane, completely barking. Ron, you can't imagine how barmy the press became when they realized that Voldemort was gone for good. Heck, we couldn't even go to the 'Loo' without a troop of photographers spying on us.

Hermione wrote the Golden Trio in an attempt to get our version of what happened out to the public before a half dozen books by others so called eyewitnesses, including Slytherins, muddied the waters with a distorted version of what actually happened. It never entered my mind that she would…stray from reporting the bare boring facts. It was like trying to read Hogwarts, A History. Ron, do you remember some of her essays for History of Magic, Merlin knows we copied enough of them. It was loads of boring dates and names that tended to put you to sleep faster than a lecture by Professor Binns."

"Humph," crackled Jon in skepticism.

"Ron, please try to understand. Within weeks after the battle, the press and the whole wizarding world was putting the two of us on pedestals We were treated like 'Super Heroes', for Merlin's sake. The Press made walking-talking demi-gods out of both of us. Hermione told me that in writing the 'Golden Trio' she would do her best to humanize the three of us by pointing out our very human flaws. Her goal was to drag us off the pedestals so that people would talk to us instead of worship us. I knew about that goal concerning her book and I approved about it, I admit that. Hell Ron, I don't know how much you remember about me but I had a tendency to be a brooder and a loner, as you might well recall. Going through fits of depressions and self loathing, Hermione on the other hand never was a people person, so I guess it was natural for her to concentrate on the most normal of the three of us, and that always was you mate!

Look, I'm no writer; I copied your essays more often than you copied mine and you're the one who copied Hermione homework. That bloody book became Hermione's new pet project, like 'spew', had been for so many years. She put her total focus into it, and it became her only means to channel the pain of your loss into something a bit constructive! I thought the book would be her way to vent her grief, giving her closure and more importantly giving you the long overdue credit that you deserved by keeping all of us sane. I was certain that she would express how she felt for you in writing

"Oh your spot on there, Potter. She certainly expressed exactly what she thought of me in that book. However, I'm not buying for one second the dragon dung that you didn't in seven years ever read that trumped up Biography of all our lives.

"Not right away, no! Why should I? It wasn't until I realized that the dirty looks' I was getting from my former dorm-mates was connected with what she wrote about you. That's when I got around to reading the damn thing and by then the damage had been done. I trusted her to do right by you and she didn't, I can't explain why she did it, you're going to have to ask her that yourself. Sweet Merlin Ron, it was only in the last two days that she acknowledged that she 'might have been a bit harsh' on you."

"A bit HARSH???"

"I don't think it was intentional Ron." Harry pleaded. "Like I said, she wanted to use your adventures at Hogwarts as an example of our humanity because you weren't the Chosen One or the aloof Gryffindor Know-It-All. You were the normal one, youngest of six brothers, great sense of humor. On the downside, you had a bit of a temper, you were thick as a post like most teenage blokes are about the birds and bloody jealous when your girl seem to run off with a famous seeker…"

"She did run off with a famous seeker, and his name was…POTTER!"

What? NO you bloody idiot not me! I was referring to Viktor KRUM, blast it all"

Temper…temper, Mister Potter, a simple TRUTH like this, shouldn't upset you, where is the Auror self control you blokes are famous for?"

Bloody hell Ron the last battle took place in the ides of mid-September, we were all at school at the time. Krum was ancient history by then, you should know that! Any road, after it was all over the Ministry insisted as a symbol of a 'return to normalcy' that our seventh year at Hogwarts not to be canceled. McGonagall put pressure on us, to finish our educations while correctly pointing out that Hogwarts might be the only sanctuary from the barking members of the press available to us.

"Ron I'm sorry about the way you were portrayed in that book, really I am," Harry said sincerely.

"What romantic feelings, Potter? You're the one she was in love with - the one she married," the strangely calm voice from the intercom retorted.

"Damn it Ron, she never loved me, it was always you! The book was her outlet to express that love and she mucked it up royally, it turned out to be pure Duff…nothing but trash, all right? She blew it and so did I, are you happy now?"

"No Potter, I not happy about it, my name is dirt now, thanks to you two."

"My therapist says Hermione must have been lashing out in her book to compensate for your loss, she hated the fact that you met your fate defending her, she may in fact have felt that you ruined everything by playing the hero."

"SH…she BLAMES ME FOR DYING?" the disembodied voice screamed. "I saved her ungrateful arse and she has the gall of blaming me for messing up her future plans? What plans, Mr. Potter? Did she want me to put on a court jester outfit for you wedding? Or was I suppose to forget that she cheated on me with you…my so-called best-mate. I was a royal idiot about you two, I admit that and I got exactly what I deserved for putting my total trust in my friends…an overlooked death.

"Don't be daft; she didn't want you to die at all…you git. Look, Ron. If I could buy back every one of those books and bin the lot of them…I would. If I could somehow convince the Wizarding World that your characterization was wrong and exaggerated I'd do it in a heartbeat. But that's just not possible anymore. Its too late now, before last week, the world thought you were dead, I did too." Potter waited for a response from him; however all he got was Jon's cold silence. Eventually Harry spoke up.

"I didn't see the point at the time to contradict what Hermione had written, because what would have been the point? You were gone, dead and buried. She was the only friend I had left, the Weasleys all hated me, and my dorm-mates resented how the book portrayed you and would have nothing to do with me. I was alone, all but virtually friendless and the last thing I wanted was to raise a big fuss about the book when my one desire was to let the press feeding frenzy die down so I could have a somewhat normal life."

More silence from Jon, which seemed to unnerve Potter a bit.

I'm a…bloody coward, Ron. I didn't volunteer for any of this, I didn't go looking for trouble it always came to me, and you know that. No one besides you understood how afraid I was all the time, how I hated the fame I never asked for. I should have stood up for you when it counted, but I didn't. I should have made a big ruckus when I did finally read Hermione's reputation mutilator, but I couldn't be bothered, I was tired, worn out. I'm not the perfect Hero everyone thinks I am, you were the only bloke who ever saw me as plain old Harry, and I am so sorry that my being a coward lead to your name being such a joke, I'm sorry I failed your memory Ron.

There was another bout of silence from Jon, after Harry's apology, and then he gave an usually flippant reply. "Water under the bridge, it doesn't matter, all is forgiven, now go in peace - sin no more and all that rot,"

"You're not angry?" Harry asked surprised.

"Strangely enough, No, I'm not…not that much anyway! There isn't enough of Ron left in me to be all that upset. Burnt and charred memories Mr. Potter, that's all I have left now. My sister insists that with time I will get more of it back, but I think that's mostly wishful thinking on her part. There are huge gaps in my memories all the way up to my alleged death, and frankly, I just don't see that changing anytime soon."

"I'm sorry, Ron, really I am," Harry said with a face full of regret.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist about it, I'm not. It's better to have some memories, than none at all, at least I now know who I was, it helped to fill in the blanks. As to forgiving you both, well… it's a lot easier to do when you look at what happened to Ronald Bilius Weasley from the point of view of an outsider.

You see from where I sit a part of me accepts the fact that the memories I have recently regained are my memories. However, most of me can't help but look upon these partial recollections through the eyes of a man with seven years of life with a different name. Who I am now just can't help but look upon these memories of Ron as if they belong to someone else.

It's as if I am standing outside Honeydukes sweet-shop looking through a big display window. I can clearly see Miss Granger, Ginny, you, and all our old schoolmates buying sweets during a Hogsmeade weekend. I can even see myself in there with my arms full of chocolate-frogs and sugar-quills joking and laughing with you a lot.

The problem with this idyllic scene is that I'm not inside - with you. I'm on the outside looking in; it's as if Ronald Weasley was a separate person in comparison to who and what I am now."

Potter seemed a bit lost at what to say about Ron's condition.

"So, Mr. Potter, what you and your now ex-bride did to me hurt and there is no denying that. For as fate would have it, the last six months of my pitiful existence as Ron are the most vivid, totally intact memories that I still have of who I used to be. The emotional betrayal, the angst is still very fresh with me. I can't begin to describe the shock of spending seven years thinking that a clownish character in a book was a hopeless idiot, only to suddenly realize last Tuesday the idiot described in the book, was in fact…me!

Jon couldn't help but notice that Potter said nothing in his own defense. The look of guilt was written clear on his face.

"Luckily, who I am now has helped to dull the pain somewhat. It's a lame bit of denial I admit, but the 'he isn't really me' emotional detachment has helped me cope with it all," Jon continued in a resigned monotone. "Therefore, the long and the short of it are, if your motivation for searching for me has been forgiveness for past crimes against my memory, you have it."

Potter seemed more than a little shocked after hearing this.

"You don't sound like Ron; he didn't talk the way you do either, and damaged memory or not, second new life not-withstanding. My best-mate was a Weasley, and they don't get mad they get even. There is no way the Ron I remember would have let me off this easily!" Harry said suspiciously.

"We have already had this chat once already, Potter! Why is it that argument's cover the same ground over and over? Do you really think you sound and speak like you did before that last battle with Voldemort? You're a twenty-four-year-old war veteran who had seen death and destruction first hand for fourteen years almost non-stop," Jon said, sounding tragic.

"You mean four don't you, Hermione, Ginny, you, and me. There are all kinds of suffering Ron and I have lived in a personal hell of regret over what we did to you. But, yeah, now that I know some of what you went though, I can understand that attitude a bit better," Harry said his voice thick with sympathy. "So… what are my chances of getting my best mate back?"

"Mr. Potter, or can I call you …Harry?"

"We use to be friends Ron, none closer." Harry said with a forced smile. "You have no idea how much I have missed what we once meant to each other as best-mates."

"Use to be a friend is a very good way to put it Harry. Do you really think that after seven years and my name in ruins? That we can just pick up from where we all were as friends…BEFORE the charms room…fiasco? Are you that out of touch with what you and your wife did to me? That you truly expect me to behave as if nothing happened?

"Ron, please, give me a chance to make amends, I do anything, pay any price for a second chance to be friends again." Harry asked almost begging.

"Harry, I don't know how I can make you understand. The Ron you knew is mostly dead, legally he is dead, and if you take into account the way he was portrayed in The Golden Trio I can assure you that he wants to stay dead. The robust full of fun dorm-mate you use to know has been replaced by a frail, sickly war veteran covered with so many scars he can't go out of doors without an elaborate disguise." the voice from the intercom said in a sad-resigned tone.

"There isn't much inside of me that is clearly identifiable as Ron anymore and what little there is doesn't like you all that much for obvious reasons. Because, Harry, to be brutally honest the sharpest memories I have center around the last six months before the last battle and you might recall…well, we weren't exactly on the best of terms back then."

"Yeah I remember," Harry replied his tone thick with regret.

"Like I said before," Jon continued, "what I am now is a blending of two very different people, a mixture of the 'Ron' fragments of the comical bloke I was back then and the chap I have been for these last seven years. You're a rich and famous stranger to me Harry and frankly you don't know the new me at all."

"We can start over…I mean we can get to know each another again," Harry pleaded.

"To be honest with you, I don't think I fit in with the social circles and the expensive public events that you attend. I haven't even been on a broom in seven years; my health isn't up to it anymore. I spend more time in hospital these days then you ever did at Hogwarts. You're mega rich, ultra famous, and in big demand for parties among the social elite. Not to mention, Hermione is also famous in her own right, for her successful work within the Foreign Office."

Harry looked completely disgruntled at what Jon was telling him.

"I'm more of a recluse these days. I like my peace and quite, a cup of earl grey, and a good book on chess or Quidditch tactics. That is how I prefer to spend my evenings now. I can't help finding it a bit ironic though, I live the quite life in a small remote cottage that you always craved. We both should know by now will never be yours, but is my everyday existence.

Jon took considerable pleasure at watching Harry squirm at what he had said.

"How do I do that?" Harry asked.

"My sister has told me all about your cock-n-bull fairy tale, about the so-called reasons behind the infamous - 'Half-Baked-Protection Plot' that my sister and I walked in on - just before the end of sixth year. Now part of me wants to insist that Hermione would never do anything really stupid like that, but that logic conflicts with the part of my memory of her with her knickers drawn down to her knees and your hand…well lets just say that your hand has been places were mine weren't allow to go. I know it was her choice to make and I'm sure she thought it though carefully from every angle before she let her knickers be moved."

"Damn it Ron I told you, it was all just an act, we were trying to…" Harry retorted in his own defense.

What I'm trying to say here is that the good Doctor Potter never committed to a plan without careful consideration of everything, her only fault being her single mindedness once she committed to a scheme. Once on course she never seemed to be willing to adapt to the unexpected, she was somewhat cocky and overly self-confident about what she was doing at the time. The 'I'm always right' conceit that she took, before arrogantly committing to a course of action, was just like putting on blinders. She would press on irregardless of the consequences to others," Jon said in a sad tone filled with regretful acceptance.

"Ron, you have to believe me," Harry protested franticly. "What Ginny told you was the truth, I swear to Merlin it was," Harry said in near panic. "It really was just a protection plan idea of Hermione's to keep 'both of you' out of the sights of the Death Eaters. She never really stopped loving you! Our so-called romantic relationship was a giant fraud, our marriage after graduation was a huge mistake. Merlin only knows how I let myself get talked me into it all…"

"Shut it Harry," Jon interrupted harshly. "Don't insult my intelligence; I am not as stupid now as your book described me back then. I do recall that you were subject to being more than a little bit impulsive but in conceding this point you must accept the sad truth that if you were impetuous at times, never were you the fool. All of a sudden, you have the gall to tell me it was all a lie! That the honor of your name means nothing?" Said the voice coming out of the intercom, leaving Harry with no reply to a very unpleasant truth, after a few moments of silence, Jon spoke again saying:

"I have spent some sleepless nights since regaining my memories thinking about this and Merlin knows I have tried to be objective about it all. Finally, I concluded that the only real truth about Hermione's feelings toward blokes was the fact that she always had a 'preference' for wealthy, famous Quidditch seekers."

"That's not true you prat! Hermione loves you and always has," Harry snapped, only to be ignored by the voice coming out of the intercom.

"Oh really, First there was Krum," Jon said in a clam matter of fact tone. "Yeah…I remember dear old Vicky. …One of my first complete set of partial memories that I can recall now, centered on that blasted Yule-ball back in fourth year and how they courted afterwards. I even think she went to see him in Bulgaria the following summer, right? I am not one hundred per cent sure…but I think she did." Jon said as if trying to remember.

Harry shook his head in the negative violently and banged his clenched fists on the tabletop, toppling the King and Queen thus having them join the already thrown down Black Knight. "She didn't actually go Ron, she used Viktor to make you jealous, - and that was why she always wrote him those long letters right in front of you. Her only goal with Krum was to push your buttons. Merlin knows it worked perfectly, because you…"

"…Harry, damn it…I said SHUT IT, and I mean it!" Ron shouted. "It doesn't matter anymore, don't you see, it was you she wanted not me. Your hands went… I saw them inside her robes, places where mine weren't allowed to go…actions speak louder than words, Harry, and what I saw with my own eyes spoke volumes." There was a pause of silence then, as the voice from the intercom stopped speaking long enough to regain his composure.

Jon noticed Harry wanted to argue with him, but he didn't dare say anything.

"Its ironic really, I played it the way she wanted," The voice continued somewhat calmer, "Its not as if I didn't wish that she fancied me and desire me with even half the carnal passion that I bore witness to…in that cursed Charms classroom, but it wasn't meant to be. She chose you over me because I'm not a great prefect hero like you are Harry; I'm just a bumbling human being with normal desires for the touch of an aroused woman."

Harry shook his head no, even as Jon continued.

"However, when the lady I adored said NO, I took it as a solemn command; I did not force entry where I was not welcomed. So when my so-called girlfriend, my always faithful and true…or so I believed, told me that she wanted to wait until her wedding night, I yielded to her wishes. It cost me more cold showers than I could count, but I wanted her as a willing partner in my bed or not at all.

It's comical to think about now, but the saying is true 'nice blokes do finish last,' Merlin knows my brothers and I are living proof of that. My Mum taught all her sons to treat women with respect. Her mistake apparently was in thinking that the women we courted would appreciate this respect and not take advantage of someone who behaved like a gentleman.

Hermione said that we should wait; she said she wanted it to be special. She declared loud and clear that she refused to be caught in the act half-undressed in an empty classroom and be declared a 'Scarlet Woman' by one and all. She refused to share the soiled reputation of her dorm mate and my ex-girlfriend Lavender Brown…"

There was a pause as the only noise coming out of the speaker was a sad hysterical laugh.

"…forgive me Harry;" the voice declared, as it regained a measure of self control. "The irony of it all is tragically funny now. All of her restrictions on doing 'THAT' only applied to me, apparently. For although it was hands off for good old respectful Ronald, the Chosen One was allowed full liberties," Jon said the pain in his voice obvious.

"Ron it was all a sham," Harry admitted yet again, franticly trying to explain the unexplainable. "You weren't supposed to catch us in the act, that was planned for later to prove Hermione and my imaginary relationship was in fact real. You and Ginny caught us practicing for the main event in that charms classroom, our affection demonstration wasn't suppose to happen until 'after' she officially broke–up with you.

The whole idea was a huge mistake, and Merlin knows we have both lived to regret it," Harry pleaded his tears flowing freely as his hopes for the return of his best-mate began to rapidly fade. "Hermione is painfully aware that she made the biggest mistake of her life when she came up with the half-baked-plot to protect Ginny and YOU – DAMN IT! Never forget that it was for the good of both of you that we came up with our sham relationship.

The problem was that we got carried away in the heat of the moment during practice…that was all. Sweet Merlin, Ron, she was only seventeen and I was only sixteen when things got out of hand. Then you, Ginny, and those others caught us in the act and we were stuck, so we just went on with our plan a bit earlier than planned. She knows and regrets that you weren't the first to touch her like that. Youth is filled with mistakes Ron, Dumbledore told me that, and he was right. Then we thought you were killed during the battle, before we had a chance to explain our intentions…"

"So once again, this is all-my-fault…for dying…right Harry?" Jon replied his voice extra cold. "How dare I go and met my fate defending Hermione. Before she had the chance to let the trio's jester know that the four months of humiliation and shame that I suffered at being cheated on by your woman was all an act to keep me safe."

"Don't you dare imply that you alone suffered during that painfully long summer holiday Ron? That time wasn't exactly a paradise for us either." Harry shouted at the intercom box. "You at least had family who were sympathetic of your condition where as Hermione and I were…"

"Sympathetic…Are you mental? You do remember my brothers Fred and George don't you, Hogwarts royal pranksters extraordinaire? Well they took the Mickey out on me by playing the fool to you-lot," Jon shouted back. "I remember every taunt, every insult and slur, each and every humiliating joke at my expense."

"I know Ron," Harry said deflating immediately. "I heard second hand how you suffered, and I will bear the blame for that to my grave, I accept that. But don't believe for one second, that knowing how you were shamed did not cut Hermione and me to the quick at hearing of it. Our protection plot had begun with a misstep but we felt that to much was at stake to turn back once we began, so our charade had to continue. The ends justified the means, your safety and Ginny's safety were rationalized by us as a short time pain exchanged for a long time gain.

So we held hands in-between classes, sat nearly on top of each other at meals and French kissed openly during the Express ride back to London on the Hogwarts after term. We dated openly as couples do during summer holiday, giving every outward signs of two people who couldn't keep their hands off of each other. The press ate it up with an insatiable appetite just as Hermione predicted.

But things between us were very different when we were alone Ron. While the entire Wizarding world believed we were ripping each others clothing off, we were doing the opposite. The unbridled truth of the matter was that in those moments of absolute privacy, like when I spent the last half of the summer holiday as a guest of the Grangers, all Hermione did was cry. She sobbed uncontrollably for hours every day over the pain she was causing you.

It took a lot of courage for her to keep up the false front of 'love' when we returned to Hogwarts at the beginning of seventh year. School opened late that year, there was a question whether it would open at all after Dumbledore death. After the battle, when the Ministry forced Hogwarts open We weren't back at school for very long before we found ourselves shunned by just about everyone who knew you. Old dorm-mates showered us with looks of disgust, unbridled distain which we richly deserved, I admit that. Each such look made me feel as if someone was using the cutting curse on me.

We had expected reprisals from you Ron, during summer holiday, unending pranks of all kinds that Hermione and I eagerly awaited, both of us feeling that they were overdue punishment for the wrong we had done to you. All holiday we waited for your revenge but you abstained. Your unexpected maturity denied us the penitence we both felt we needed to suffer for what we did. This lack of penalty for our mistake ended up hurting us far more that any humiliating prank you or your brothers could have devised.

For six years Hermione had done everything she could to earn the title of Head Girl, revised all her classes for hours to obtain top marks. However, when she got what she thought was her hearts greatest wish, her accomplishment became empty…for you weren't there to share it with her. Instead of being the high-point of her Hogwarts experience, it became her lowest, her greatest fears realized. She and I were without a single genuine friend, disrespected and despised by all with her reputation as a Scarlet Women and unfaithful jezebel forever more -- set in stone!" Harry explained.

"This is all-my-fault as well…right Harry?" Jon replied with no amount of bitterness. "How dare I run off and die defending Hermione, before she had the chance to tell me, that she had been selected to become Head Girl and you Head Boy. That being made to look like a total fool in front of everyone was all because I interrupted a snog and grope practice session. Yes it's all true, you're right of course," Jon said in bitter sarcasm. "How dare I be crushed in body and spirit for what the two very best friends I'd ever had did to me."

"Its not as bad as you make it out to be, well…maybe it was," Harry said upset that his explanation had not worked out as well as he intended. "Anyroad, it was a mistake…a mistake I… that 'WE' had to with for these last seven years while you had the warmth of not remembering."

"Warmth of NOT remembering, are you mental? That concept is a huge load of dragon dung, Potter! Do you really envy me for not knowing who the hell I was for seven long years? Is that how you rationalized the book you co-authored and please…spare me the Demi-God analogies!" Jon shouted losing his temper.

"Look, I'm sorry alright! This reunion hasn't gone as planed and I'm upset okay." Harry said exasperated and short tempered. "I believe that the Golden Trio, as distorted as it is, was Hermione's twisted way of coping with your loss…" Harry declared loudly in near panic.

"So she proved what I meant to her, by making me look like an idiot?, and you endorsed it? Oh well that makes perfect sense, well done old bean, thanks loads…mate."

Damn it Ron, we blew it…okay, the Great Chosen one mucked up…alright? I admit it, are you happy now? Two teenagers did something royally stupid and now we're caught up in our own lies. We never should have written that bloody book, we never should have let people talk us into getting married either…okay! Damn it Ron, we're real people, not demi-gods, we screw-up now and again just like every one else. Merlin knows we have been paying for our mistakes ever since." Harry shouted at the intercom, then he paused, by force of will pulling his temper back into check, before trying once again to explain himself.

"Look Ron, it all boils down to this and you've got to believe me, please. There wasn't anything between Hermione and me romantically, there never has been then or now."

Harry's comment was met with silence and after waiting for a few moments pressed on.

"I must have been barmy to ever have agreed to the plan we came up with, but I did, and now its time for me to face the music, I guess. If it's any comfort to you, we have both suffered in a sham of a marriage paying for it. "

'Oh, yeah, right! You now want me to believe that being married to the most wonderful; drop dead sexy witch, in all of England has been a BLOODY HARDSHIP!"

"Damn it Ron, are you totally mental? You're the only barmy git in the whole world that ever thought Granger was sexy, for Merlin's sake," Harry retorted shouting at the intercom. "She loved you, always did, and still does, even if the barking nutters' woman never fessed up to it. Poor old Krum meant squat to her, and me? I'm just like a brother to her…" Harry said pleading with his friend to understand.

"Bloody hell, Harry, I don't know what to believe anymore," Screamed back the disembodied voice out of the intercom. "How do I figure out what is truth and what is a lie anymore?"

"Ron, I brought Versirium with me, and I gladly take it if that's what it takes!" Harry declared

"Nice try Potter, but there is no way for me to know if it's real or not now is there?"

"Ron, I realize how hard it must be to believe me after all that I have done, but I am telling the truth"

"Just shut it, Harry," Jon replied. "I'm not daft enough to arrange all of this then blow-off the match by coming out of concealment for a potion that may or may not be real. Face it; there isn't anything that you can point to that specifically proves she cared more for me than you.

So please Harry, don't treat me like an idiot anymore. You two played me for a fool for years, must have had loads of laughs behind my back while you strung along the poor lovesick court jester. As a wizard-chess player, all I can say is 'well-played' - how can my complete humiliation compare with providing protection from Death Eater's for…who? I can't keep your conflicting stories straight anymore.

Nor can you deny that you both knew full-well what would happen to me when my foolish charade of courting Hermione was exposed. I became the laughingstock of Hogwarts of course. The butt of never ending humiliating jokes from my twin brothers and all our schoolmates both inside Gryffindor and out. Right up to the day I died, they would point at me and snicker. Did you care? - Hell no!"

"Of course I cared, I mean 'WE' cared, Hermione and I, but don't you see, if we made our concern show it would have ruined the whole charade, canceling the protection our romantic lie was providing you," Harry said trying desperately and failing to win back his only true friend

"Put it this way, Harry," the voice from the intercom intoned. "Let's just say that it's very fortunate for you that I am not the Ron that you remember. According to The Golden Trio, your dimwitted sidekick had a bit of a hot temper and if I was more like the Ron of old and less like the man I am now. I'd be trying my best right now to hex you into next year." There was another long pause as what was said cut into Harry's soul like a knife.

"…Look, Potter, - I didn't set up this meeting to discuss my shortcomings as a pawn in the chess game you were playing with Voldemort. By fifth year I had come to accept my role as the expendable…sidekick, you were the Chosen one, Hermione the brainy one with me nothing more than comic relief."

"Ron that's not true, you were more important than you'll ever know and both Hermione and I never considered you comic relief."

"Hermione's book says different, Harry, a book need I remind you once again that you authorized as being factual."

Harry stood there dumbstruck in the face of undeniable truth. Finally in a soft embarrassed voice a very humbled Harry Potter declared. "Please Ron, believe me…I'm sorry for what we did to you and both Hermione and I are more than willing to do anything to be your friend again!"

"Harry…please, what do I have to do to make you understand. I'm more like a specter of the betrayed dorm mate you knew from school, a mere ghost of your best mate of yesteryear. My visit to Hermione's hospital room stirred mixed feelings within me, deeply conflicted emotions that I don't have a handle on…not yet anyway." The voice replied in a tone of resigned sadness. "How can you stand there and keep saying that Hermione loves me when your sweet ex-wife in her authorized history of the trio pointed out my biggest failure as a boyfriend by not mentioning the fact that we ever dated at all.

Viktor, Cormac and you she admits too dating, but about me. Not one word about her canary attack sixth year and that was a funny bit, don't you think, setting birds to peck out my eyes? She did mention my disastrous relationship with Lavender Brown though, but only to point out yet again my utterly clueless, emotional immaturity. Honestly Harry, I have read and re-read that book half a dozen times since regaining my memories and the impression I get is that 'I was the dimwitted brother' to Hermione, not you.

So just shut your cakehole about Hermione's so-called feelings for me. My old memories are too newly restored to me to even think about that. To be honest, Harry, from the perspective of the bloke standing outside of Honeydukes looking in on his old life. What I see, after taking into account her book is a young woman deeply embarrassed about me being in her life. She was so embarrassed that to minimize my presence she reduced my role in the trio to that of a clown, so, let's just drop the subject for the moment…please?"

"Alright Ron, I'll keep my peace for now, but this discussion isn't finished, not by a long shot. I flat out refuse to believe that you can't find it in your heart to give me a second chance. You claim that you have changed, well damn it so have I! You say I don't know you and to that I reply that with seven years apart and damaged memories of before that, you don't know me either!" Harry said in a tone of grim determination.

"You'll have to start over from scratch; get to know me as if we have never met." Jon replied.

"Whatever it takes Ron, for Merlin's sake toss me a bone here. I know its going to take time and I expect to take some grief from you. I'll even concede that I need you as a friend far more than you need me. All I'm looking for here is one friend in this crazy world who will see me as me and not the Chosen One, someone who will tell me I'm full of it rather than kiss my arse."

"And all but digging up a corpse from your past is your best shot at getting an honest friend?"

"Yeah, pathetic isn't it?"

"You always said the fame was more curse than a blessing…alright Harry. I'll think about it, I'm not promising anything, mind you. I'm conflicted right now about a lot of stuff and my Dad always warned me about burning bridges behind me before I determine which path I want to follow."

"Then don't burn your bridge to Hermione either, Ron. Talking to an unconscious woman in a hospital bed doesn't give her the same chance to apologize that you have given me here today. Give her an opportunity to explain herself, in a face to face meeting…that's all I ask.

"I don't want to sound ungrateful; the chance to become friends again is great. However, out of curiosity may I ask, if you didn't come here to give me another shot at being your best mate, why did you put that advert in the Daily Prophet?" Harry asked deeply depressed

Frankly, Harry, I wouldn't have contacted you at all, if you hadn't for the last two years, repeatedly sworn to my sister, that if you were only free of your marriage to Hermione, you would marry Ginny at once. Is this true?"

"HELL yes, and without hesitation," Harry shouted at the intercom box. And if you weren't hiding her from me I would tell her that to her face," Harry shouted.

"Swear it, Harry, make a unbreakable wizards vow to me here and now, that the moment you see Ginny again you will ask her to marry you, and if she says yes you will do so right away. Swear it, Harry," Jon said in a deadly serious tone.

"ON ALL MY MAGIC, I DO SWEAR, I will ask you sister to marry me the moment I see her," Harry swore, the magic binding his words. "Now where in bloody hell is she!"

"Your wish is granted" Jon stated with satisfaction.

To be continued.

Author's note: Almost finished, Harry's forgiven… conditionally. Who is the invisible escort with Harry in the room… is it Hermione or Shacklebolt? Is there any evidence of Hermione's love that she can offer Ron to prove she did indeed love him, and why is Portugal always purple on maps?

An author explains: for those few readers still with me, those of you who have wondered why my chapters seem to get bigger and bigger. Well I actually do have a reason, believe it or not.

When I sent out on this journey about the Wizard Chess Master of England, I was determined to use as chapter headings each move that Ron used in Movie number One involving chess. Without repeating myself, that adds up to ten total chapters in all, including Harry's final move as a Black Bishop to bring the White King into checkmate. What this means is that I'm limited as far a chapters. Seven down with three to go, before Checkmate.

Author's FINAL word for this chapter: Why I write, knowing how dialog heavy my stories tend to be

I quote Brandon from another site.
There are three types of fan-fiction writers. Those who write for the enjoyment, those who write for the reviews, and blokes and birds like me; those that write, because they have run out of things to read.

Much like the tales of J.R.R.Tolkien in Lord of the Rings and C.S. Lewis of the Chronicles of Narnia, I write tales that I want to read, but no-one else is writing. Stories of less than prefect hero's with sidekicks that are just as heroic, but too often overlooked as nothing more the comic relief.

Enuff said!

888

Beta's note: Knowing something about writing, Billybob failed to mention the fourth type of writer. Those that like to write on and on and on. Unfortunately, we've tried our best to keep him down to under 20,000 words or less a chapter but he's like the Energizer bunny. "He keeps going…"

Still, it's been rather exciting for all of us to work with him over something this fresh and original. Therefore, I hope you take pleasure in it as much as we have. Until his next 20,000 + word chapter, enjoy. – BuckNC

Author replies: Hey…I resemble that remark.

billybob