Chapter 3

Ron left Gringotts fifteen minutes later, having withdrawn some money out of his account. Pushing open the thick double doors and entering back into Diagon Alley, Ron set about his day. Ron knew the magical shopping center quite well, being a frequent customer ever since he was little, and as such, navigating through the different shops and stores came as second nature to him, heading to his various destinations almost subconsciously, allowing his mind to focus on other things. Ron ran through his mental checklist of the places he needed to go and decided which shop to go to first, arranging the order accordingly. Ron first walked into Madam Malkin's Shop. An elderly woman with bright silver hair was sitting at the counter, hand supporting her head as she read a magazine with a bored look on her face. At the sound of the door opening, she looked up from her reading and smiled.

"Mr. Weasley! Haven't seen you in a while! How's the fam?" she asked.

"They're doing fine, I just saw mum and dad a couple weeks ago; they had me over for supper," Ron replied. "Mum's having trouble figuring out what to do with her free time now that everyone's grown and outta the house."

"Oh, I know what that's like. Must be tough on her," Mrs. Malkin said.

"Nah, she'll be fine. We were away for months at a time when we were in school, so it's not like she doesn't have some experience with an empty house; she just needs to adjust back to not having us around as much." Ron replied.

"Well that's good. So, to what do I owe this visit?" she said.

"I need my cloak mended; I tore it on the job last week." Ron responded, meekly holding up his traveling cloak. There was a long tear running up from the bottom. Ron had torn it getting into position on the hill in Liverpool. "I could fix it myself, but you know how it is with clothing; it's best done by a professional, so I thought I'd come in."

"I appreciate the business." Mrs. Malkin said, standing up and walking out from behind the counter. Well, give it here" she took the torn cloak from Ron's hand, "And let me fix that right up for you…"

Ron's cloak was mended in no time, and although it wouldn't pass for a brand new cloak, it definitely did not have a tear in it anymore. Ron happily thanked Madam Malkin, paid her, and walked out the door.

By the time the rest of Ron's errands were done, the sun was high in the sky, and his stomach was voicing its displeasure; the only form of nourishment it had encountered all day was some porridge Ron has hastily scarfed down before running out the door this morning. Ron, eager to appease his monster of a stomach, headed to the far side of Diagon Alley, weaving through the crowds of witches and wizards going about their day. As Ron neared the end of the road, a shop came into view that stood out among the rest. It was colorful, almost blindingly so, with many different colors spattered across a bright orange base, and had thousands of parts moving every which way. Looming above the rest was a large head with alarming red hair. An enormous arm was moving an old fashioned magician's hat on and off the head, a different object appearing out from under it each time. Just under this, in big letters, was a sign that read Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Ron ginned; his brothers certainly had an eye for color.

Ron stepped inside, finding the interior to be just as wild as the front. Dozens upon dozens of shelves filled the store; all divided into different sections that were zanier then the next. To Ron's left, an entire section of the store was bathed in a bubblegum pink hue, with several giggling girls huddled around the different shelves and display cases. Big, fancy letters that hung in midair read "WonderWitch Products." As Ron walked deeper into the store, several products caught his eye, such as Anti-Gravity Hats ("Ruin a gentleman's day by making his hat fly away!"), Insulting Pamphlets ("Insults anyone who tries to read it!"), and, having an entire shelf to their own, Patented Daydream Charms ("Virtually undetectable, highly realistic, 30 minute daydreams!"). Deeper still into the shop were sections of every type, from the Muggle Magic Center, which was practically deserted compared to other sections, to Quidditch Corner, which was absolutely packed with customers, mostly young boys, faces glued to the displays.

Ron had reached the back of the joke shop, where a large checkout kiosk stood, manned by several young witches behind comically large versions of Muggle cash registers. Each witch was attending to a line of waiting customers.

As he looked around, Ron still spotted no sign of the owner of the magnificent shop… his brother, George Weasley. Ron was beginning to think he'd stepped out when-

"Oy! There you are. You're late!"

George had suddenly appeared from behind a row of merchandise to Ron's right. Dressed in a stunningly electric blue suit, he looked every bit the famous joke shop owner that he was. Grinning broadly, he strode over to Ron and clapped him on the back as Ron did the same.

"I thought you'd never show!" George exclaimed. "It really has been too long, little bro."

"Yeah I thought as much." Ron returned. "Good to see you, George. How's the joke shop business treating you?"

"Brilliant! Couldn't be better! The new Quidditch line is a smashing success!" George said as he gestured over to the section of the store that seemed even more flooded with people then a few seconds ago, as if it had been possible.

Ron laughed. "Yeah, I can see that."

"It's wonderful! I got the idea from Ginny.

"Oh really? That's great! Heard the Harpies are doing really well this season." said Ron.

"Too true, my brother. I was just at the game last week when they faced Puddlemere. Harpies wiped the floor with 'em, 290-30! Ginny scored 9 out of the 14 goals of course."

"Yep, that's Ginny, outperforming everyone, even back at school. Always came through for her team."

"Unlike you, who seemed fit to play like a steaming pile of dung most of the time," George responded, pointing a finger into Ron's chest.

"What are you on about?" Ron retorted, pushing the finger away. "I set the record for most goals saved in a game! I was the best Keeper Hogwarts had seen in years!"

"You had a funny way of proving it. If it wasn't for you always managing to pull a come from behind victory out of your rear end, I would have had a little talk with Harry about favoritism."

Ron couldn't help but smile. He missed arguing with his older brother.

"Well, if you are quite done poking fun at my school achievements, can we head off to lunch as planned?"

George smiled in return. "That we can, but if you think I'm done poking fun, you're about to be very disappointed. Rebecca!" George called in the direction of the checkout counter. A pretty, young witch with auburn colored hair looked up from her register.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley?" she called back.

"Ron and I are going to lunch. You're in charge while we're away." George shouted, adding "Don't let them intimidate you," pointing to the long line in front of the young cashier.

Rebecca smiled. "Of course not, Mr. Weasley. I won't let you down."

"That's my girl!" George responded. "We'll be back by 3:00!"

"So, how're things going for you, George?"

"Pretty well, I can't complain. You gonna finish your roast gammon?

Ron felt relaxed for the first time today. After being on call for the last couple of days, he was finally able to just sit and have lunch with his brother. He didn't have to worry about work, and was able to push it completely from his head, if only for a short while. Ron and George had gone to Eugene's Fine Wine and Eateries, a relatively new restaurant on Diagon Alley. During the war, many shops were destroyed or otherwise put out of business, and so after the war ended, it brought in a whole mess of new shops and restaurants. Eugene's wasn't an outlandishly fancy place, but it was nice enough to be called classy, to say the least. The walls were red velvet in color, with several gold-colored chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Dozens of wooden tabled adorned with jet black tablecloths awaited hungry patrons. After some deliberation, George had ordered the Shepherd's pie and Ron the roast gammon, which he was currently picking at with his fork.

"Anyway, the shop is doing brilliant. Sales are up from last month, and we're getting ready to start construction on our new location in Hogsmeade."

Ron remembered when George had come to him with the news that Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes would be opening a shop in Hogsmeade, the only all wizarding village in Britain. George had been absolutely ecstatic, and Ron had felt very proud of his older sibling.

"Oh yeah. It's a great idea by the way, opening one in Hogsmeade." Ron said. "I remember the products were immensely popular with Hogwarts students. Hell, they still are, and now you don't have to constantly have packages being sent all the way there; you'll have a store right there!"

"My thoughts exactly," George said with a satisfied smile.

"Oh, I was wondering, who's gonna run it?" Ron questioned as he took a sip of wine. "Can't exactly be in two places at once?"

"I haven't decided yet," replied George. "There are a couple of people I had in mind, but nothing is final as of yet."

"Ah, well, that's good," Ron said, eyes on his plate, still poking at his half-finished meal.

"Indeed. Speaking of work, I'm glad you were finally able to get away from yours, what with you postponing our little luncheon twice this past week." George said. "With all the work they're having you do, they had better be paying you well!"

Ron chuckled. George was absolutely correct, he was being paid well, but not as a result of working more. Ron had been assigned to the Covert Operations Division of the Auror Office, a highly secretive subdivision of Aurors that were dedicated to handling matters deemed too important or sensitive to be known by the general public. The COD was the absolute elite among Magical Law Enforcement, and all members were handpicked from the Auror Training academy for what the head of the Auror office called: Extraordinary skill in combat, impeccable cunning, unparalleled sense of intuition, and an ability to go above and beyond what is expected, even in the direst of situations. Ron had gladly accepted the offer to join. Unfortunately, part of the job's description was keeping anything and everything about his work completely secret, which meant of course that Ron was unable to tell anyone, not even his brother.

"Yeah, you could say that," he added after a moment.

After the bill had been paid, Ron and George headed back towards the shop. Ron found himself earnestly enjoying George's company. He was been mostly by himself the last week and a half, so it was nice to talk to someone again. As the two Weasley brothers talked, Ron heard a voice cry out behind them.

"Sir, excuse me, please wait!"

Ron stopped and turned to see a young man around eighteen years in age come hurrying towards them. He was dressed in a red-colored apron over a white button-up collared shirt with a black tie, black slacks, and black and white trainers. Ron recognized him as the waiter that had served them at the restaurant, named Jason.

"Sorry to bother you sirs, there was just something about your bill"-

Oh, did we not leave enough?" Ron interrupted, reaching into his pocket and pulling out some coins. "Here, how much –"

"No sir, you didn't underpay at all!" said Jason, waving Ron's hand away. "Quite the opposite in fact. You've overpaid! The bill was only five Galleons, nine Sickles, but you left seven Galleons!"

"Oh, that. I didn't overpay; the remainder is your tip." Ron replied.

"Oh no, sir, that's not necessary. That's nearly double the customary amount!" the waiter said.

"You provided us with excellent service; you earned it." Ron smiled. It was true; the young waiter had indeed given great service to Ron and George. He had been pleasant and polite, and their food had been served much faster than they had expected. The waiter had even cleaned Ron's shirt with an eager wave of his wand when he had accidently spilled wine on it.

Jason looked flabbergasted. "Oh, w-well, thank you very much, sir!" he said with a great smile.

"You're welcome." Ron replied.

"Well Ron, we really must be getting back," George interjected, "Those Skiving Snackboxes aren't going to sell themselves!"

Jason faltered a moment. "Skiving…Merlin's pants, you must be Ron Weasley!" He exclaimed excitedly.

Ron was taken aback. "Yeah, that's me. How do you know my name?"

"Why, you're a war hero, Mr. Weasley!" Jason replied. "One of the great heroes of the Second War! Very pleased to meet you," he said, holding out his hand, which Ron took. "My name is Jason, Jason Ashdown. I'm such a fan of you and Harry Potter!"

Ron was even more taken aback then he had been a moment before. He was unused to being recognized; that was an occurrence usually experienced by Harry.

"Oh, well, er, thanks very much, but I'm not a hero. It was Harry who"-

"Don't be silly!" said Jason with a smile. "You were one of the best fighters in the Battle for Hogwarts! I can only imagine what that must have been like…" Jason trailed off.

Several images flashed before Ron's eyes.

Running down a corridor. Countless flashes of light flying in every direction. A statue exploded into pieces as Ron sprinted past. A flash of green light flew down the corridor, right at Ron. Ron ducked-

"Sir? Mr Weasley, sir?"

Ron snapped back to reality. "Yeah, fine. Listen, Jason, it was nice meeting you, but we really must be going."

"Oh, okay then. Glad to have met you, Mr. Weasley. Have a good one!" Jason waved, then turned and headed back to Eugene's.

Ron and George continued their walk back to the joke shop. The sun was beginning to descend from its high perch, casting long shadows across the path. The crowds of people that had been there earlier in the day seemed to have thinned considerably, leaving a calm steady mass of people in its wake. For a while, they walked in silence, until George spoke up.

"You doing okay, Ron? You seemed to go off into your own little world for a bit back there when that kid mentioned the war." George looked at Ron, concerned. For a couple of months after the war, Ron had suffered from terrifying flashbacks, once experiencing one so severe Ron had almost completely destroyed his room at the Burrow in a fit of panic. Ron had gotten much better since then, the flashbacks now nothing more than vivid memories.

"Yeah, I've been fine. I was just remembering something back there" Ron replied, embarrassed and turning the famous Weasley shade of scarlet. He suddenly became very interested in his shoes.

"Are you sure?" George asked, still looking at Ron carefully. "It's okay if you've been having those flashbacks again. We were all there, Ron; we all went through what you did. Remember, I used to have fits just like you did."

"Yeah," quipped Ron, "But you never had a fit so bad that you chucked your dresser across the room and blasted the walls to bits." This conversation was making him very nervous.

"Well, we can't all have spectacular freak outs like you did, now can we?" George retorted, smiling once more. He laughed, and Ron joined in.

"I miss this. I miss just being able to talk and laugh with you like this." Ron lamented. "I can pretend to be normal for a bit, ya know?"

George stuck his tongue out at Ron. "Normal eh?" He laughed. "Wonder what that's like. Bet it's boring. Alright, well, I've got to be getting back to work"

Ron looked up, surprised. They were once more in front of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, in all its colorful glory. Ron hadn't even noticed.

"Alright mate, I'll see you soon." Ron replied.

The two brothers clapped each other's back once more, and Ron departed.

Ron left Diagon Alley, returned into London and caught a Muggle bus.

After Voldemort's defeat, the Ministry went through a great change. They reorganized themselves to more closely mirror that of the American CIA or British MI6, entirely restructuring itself from the ground up. In addition, their technology was advanced, anywhere from instant communion to rigging Muggle pagers to suit their needs. After careful consideration, the Ministry found that Dementors were no longer a reliable means of guarding the wizarding prison, Azkaban, and were subsequently let go; the Ministry left members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to guard in their place.

The new Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, believing public knowledge of even the most crucial Ministry business to be far too great, created the Covert Operations Division (COD) of the Auror Office. The new Head of the Auror Office had hand-selected only the most promising recruits during Auror Training. Each prospective recruit was to be approved by Shacklebolt himself, and if the recruit passed, they underwent three years of rigorous training, in addition to the usual three years of training to become a basic Auror.

The COD was so top secret that it was virtually unknown, even within the Ministry itself. Only the head of the Auror Office, a select few top-end officials of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE), the Minister himself, and, of course, the operators that made up the COD itself had knowledge of its existence. The COD operators conducted their missions under the utmost secrecy, traveling all over the globe, carrying out operations deemed too delicate for normal DMLE officials. Ron had been a part of the first graduating class of Operators, and had been working various missions for a couple months now.

The bus arrived at Ron's stop and he exited the vehicle. In front of him was a relatively nice Muggle apartment complex. Ron paid no attention to the scenery outside and walked through the front door, into the lobby, and onto an elevator. Ron pushed the button for the eleventh floor. The elevator hummed and climbed up, stopping at odd floors along the way to pick up various Muggles. Ron got off at his floor and walked down the hall to his room, Room 619. Ron fumbled in his pockets for a moment before sighing; he had once more forgotten his key. Ron looked left and right to make sure no one was around, slipped out his wand, and pointed it at the door. It opened with a small click, and he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

COD Operators were assigned homes in Muggle communities, so as to be away from Muggle and Wizard public eye alike. This, of course, required Operators to live a quiet, peaceful life at home, which Ron often found to be quite frustrating. That being said, Ron was allowed certain "modifications" to his Muggle apartment; the food cooked on its own, the dishes cleaned and put themselves away, and the trash magically appeared inside the garbage chute. In addition, Ron was allowed several magical items in his humble home, such as wizard moving photographs, but other than that, Ron indeed lived a quiet, quite unmagical life at home.

Ron tossed his cloak on the rack and kicked off his shoes, putting them beside the door. Ron walked over to the sofa, and, pulling out his wand, gave a lazy flick towards the Muggle stereo system. The system came to life, and music came through its speakers, a song by the Muggle rock band Coldplay, which Ron had grown rather fond of since taking a class to become familiar with Muggle culture. Popping down on the sofa, Ron listened for a few minutes before turning the stereo off and the TV on. Ron casually flipped through channels for the next few hours, before finally retiring to bed. Laying down on his bed, Ron drifted off to sleep.

Author's Notes:

Well, how did you like this chapter? Certainly longer then the last two! Also, to all those out there wondering, Hermione WILL finally come into play in the next chapter. Sorry to have kept you waiting if you happen to be following this, there have been a few things that have come up this week. If you like the story, PLEASE REVIEW, as I thrive off your opinions and such. If you have a question, I return all PMs as soon as I read them. Thanks for reading! Till next time!