Thanks everyone for the positive feedback! Chapter 3 as promised. Originally, chapters 2 and 3 were meant to be one chapter but it ran a little long so I chopped it up. Chapter 4 will be uploaded on 10/29/15. Enjoy!

Harry Potter Fan Fiction

Fair Weather Friends

Chapter II.V

When Ron opened his eyes again, he was in front of the Leaky Cauldron. He expelled a cloud of vapor with a shiver. It had gotten even colder after the sun had gone down. He watched a cloud of his warm breath float up and away. Ron could barely contain himself with thoughts of warm fire whisky flowing down his throat dancing across his mind.

He and Harry hopped up the stairs and through the front doors.

A huge wave of heat poured over Ron as he peered around the bar. His eyes squinted as they adjusted to the brightness inside and Ron peered around for their colleagues. The large rectangular bar in the center of the room . A roaring fire was going in the hearth against the far wall. It was Happy hour and even on a Tuesday, the Leaky Cauldron was poppin. Hannah Longbottom, nee Abbott, had acquired the venue a year or so prior and had transformed it's old, dark features into something of a hot spot for young working class wizards in downtown London.

As Ron weaved his way through the tables to the bar, he spotted Baker and Anderson.

"What took you, mates?" asked Anderson as he lifted his glass and drained it.

"How many have you had?" asked Harry, eyeing his the empty glasses resting on the bar.

"Just three."

"Already?!" Exclaimed Ron.

"Got right to it. Ordered two right when we sat down," chuckled Baker. "Charlie doesn't believe in warm ups. Or chasers for that matter."

"This here is number 3," said Charlie as he lifted his glass and drained it. He slammed it on the bar with a belch. "You two should catch up."

He leaned over the bar and waved at a tall dark haired man behind it. "Oy! Bartender! Four more over here!" yelled Charlie. The bartender looked up for the glass he was pouring, annoyance etched on his face. But when he saw Harry and Ron, he broke into a wide smile. He hurriedly filled the patron's glass, wiped his hands on a white apron tied around his middle and walked over to them.

"Hi, Harry! Ron!"

"Neville!" Ron exclaimed.

"How you been, mate?" asked harry. "business looks great."

"Thanks. It's all Hannah really. She's just thrown herself into it. If it wasn't for her I don't know how we would have turned this place around. 2 sickleTuesdays was her idea."

"Yeah well it definitely worked out, didn't it? Just look! I never saw this many people in here when Old Tom still ran the place."

"Yeah… It was always so dark and gloomy before.

"Yeeeaaahhhh… I knew something was different," said Ron thoughtfully. He peered around the bar, his eyes glittering as if he were truly seeing it for the first time.

"Merlin mate. You sure do move slow," interrupted Charlie. "Can we get those drinks sometime today?"

Just as Neville opened his mouth to inform him where exactly he would shove those drinks, Hannah appeared from behind and wrapped her arms around his middle.

"Honey, play nice," said Hannah as she kissed Neville on his left cheek; both promptly turned red. She stepped out from behind her husband. "Harry, Ron, its so good to see you."

"Nice to see you too again, Hannah," offered Harry.

"One over here bartender!" A man yelled from the other end of the bar.

Neville moved as if to answer the man's request but Hannah touched him lightly on the arm.

"I'll take care of it. Catch up with Harry and Ron," said Hannah.

"hey!" interrupted Charlie. "I'm A paying customer too!"

"Sorry," Harry apologized to Hannah. "He gets a little high strung when he drinks."

"Its perfectly fine, Harry," answered Hannah her voice suddenly flat. "And what can I get for you sir?"

"Finally some service!" shouted Charlie. "Four fire whiskeys. Make mine a double."

Hannah left to go serve the other patron and get their drinks. When she came back, her normal cheery manner had returned; although she did slide Charlie his glass rather gruffly and some of its contents spilled down the side.

"So, Ron, tell us about the baby! I'm sorry Neville and I haven't made it over to see her yet. As you can see," she gestured, "we've had our hands pretty full."

"Oh! Um well," Ron hesitated. "she poops and cries a lot. And then sometimes she cries and then poops. If that's what you mean," said Ron as he took another sip. "Never know what you're going to get with that one."

Harry tried to stifle a laugh too late and sent burning fire whiskey up his nose.

"Um," said Hannah, clearly trying very hard to keep the conversation alive. "so how's Hermione? Managing a newborn must be pretty hectic I imagine?"

She's… good," answered Ron.

"Good? That's all you have to say? I'd think a husband and new father would have a lot more to say than 'They're good'.

"Merlin, lady, a man sitting at a bar does not want to think about his wife and screaming baby at home," Anderson butted in. "Leave the man in peace."

She shot him a dirty look, but she didn't continue the conversation with Ron. After Hannah was out of earshot, Anderson leaned over and clapped Ron on the shoulder.

"You're welcome, mate. Anything I can do for a friend," said Anderson. Ron snorted in his glass as Neville smiled nervously over a glass he was cleaning a little too zealously.

"Harry, look over there. Is that that bloke Stan Shunpike?" asked Ron suddenly. "remember when he used to fawn all over you? "'Arry Potter? 'e tol' me 'is name was Neville!" Ron exclaimed in a horrible attempt to impersonate Stan's accent. Another giggling fit passed over him and he spilled a little of his whiskey onto his robes.

Neville on the other hand, did not share his sense of humor.

"He hasn't been right since they let him out of Azkaban. I heard the dementors really did a number on him," said Neville in a low whisper.

"Not to mention being Imperioused for a year. No wonder the bloke's off his rocker," added Harry. He spoke without thinking and felt a small pang of guilt as he watched Neville's brow furrow slightly.

"I though he went back to being a conductor on the Knight Bus?" asked Ron after he had finally gotten a hold of himself.

"He did," answered Neville, seemingly grateful for the change of subject. "He and Ernie stop in from time to time in between trips."

"Yeah, yeah. Well don't make any eye contact. The last thing I need is for him to see me," said Harry as he slouched a little lower in his seat.

Neville and Ron laughed.

They continued to talk and reminisce over their boyhood years at Hogwarts. Where had the time gone? Before Harry had become the chosen one, before Neville had cut the head from the snake, and before Ron had discovered something within himself he never knew he had. And before Ron knew it, time had passed them by and it was already nearing 1 o'clock.

"Well I should get going," said Harry as he stood up suddenly. "I have some paper work I have to check out at the office."

"You barely touched your Drink mate!" said Baker pointing at Harry's half empty glass on the bar.

"I really need to go. Sorry. Here's 2 sickles for my part," answered Harry as he counted out the coins in his pocket.

"Yeah, watch out guys. Deputy Potter's on the case," snidely said Anderson. "You going to catch this one single handedly too?"

"how about you get off your ass and do some work for once, you lazy drunk! Sitting here complaining day after day. It's a wonder why I keep letting you come back," retorted Neville.

"Don't mind him. He's still a little ticked about that Prophet article," apologized Baker.

"It's because I'm your best paying customer," answered Anderson. He lifted the glass and let the ice clink against its side. "And I say it's time for another."

"No, you're cut off," answered Neville stubbornly.

"What? Cut off?"

"Well I think I should be going too," said Ron. He drained the contents of his glass and set it down with a loud thunk. "I'll walk with you Harry. Good night, Neville. I'll tell Hermione you said hello."

"Night Neville." Said Harry.

And together they left the bar and the impending argument between Neville and Anderson behind them and stepped back out into the freezing cold.

"I'll see you tomorrow at work, mate?"

"Sure. 'Night Ron," answered Harry.

"'Night Harry," Ron replied.

Ron saw Harry apparate a split second before he did.

He arrived directly on top of the front steps. Ron silently patted himself on the back for his impeccable aim, even after four shots of fire whiskey. He pulled his wand and tapped the doorknob sharply.

"Ronald Weasley flat 409" The door swung open and he hurried inside. The door slammed shut behind him. Ron rubbed his hands together attempting to get them used to the heat.

Ugh, damn stairs, Ron thought as he put his foot on the first step.

He began his ascent slowly, his legs felt like lead. Up and up he went until he finally reached the fourth floor. He pulled out his wand and this time, Ron was sure to tap lightly on the doorknob.

Don't want to wake, Hermione, Ron thought. He could only imagine the kind of things she would have to say.

Ron closed the door lightly behind him and let out a sigh of relief. The apartment was dark and quiet. He kicked off his shoes as quietly as he could, walked down the hall and entered the living room. He slide off his cloak, folded it haphazardly and threw it on top of an armchair in the corner. As Ron turned to leave the living room, he stubbed his toe against the leg of couch.

"Shit!"

Ron shouted before he could stop himself. He froze and waited in silence, heart beating in his ears, listening for any sign of movement in the next room. Luckily, it seemed, Hermione hadn't hear him. He let out a sigh of relief and crept back out of the living room and down the hall.

CREAK!

The old wood floors sounded loudly. Ron stopped again and listened as hard as he could, heart in his throat.

Still quiet.

When he got to the end he noticed a small flickering light coming from a room down the hall on his left. Rose's room, Ron thought as he crept down the hall and peeked his head in.

And there was Hermione, wide-awake, sitting in a rocking chair by the window with Rose sleeping soundly at her breast.

"You promised you'd come home on time tonight, Ronald," said Hermione in a deadly whisper.

Ron winced. He had forgotten all about that, what with all of today's excitement. Ron silently prepared himself; nothing good ever came after Hermione called him "Ronald".

"Yeah we had a tough case. I did the best I could, honey," answered Ron, in what he hoped was a soothing tone. He walked over and kissed her and then Rose lightly on the forehead.

"Then why did your hand on your mother's clock say that you left work 3 hours ago?"

Ron's stomach did a back flip. He panicked and threw caution to the wind.

"Listen Hermione," Ron started hurriedly. "I just wanted to blow off some steam with my mates for a little while. It was a hard day. They found this body in the park-"

"Ron! I needed you to be home to watch Rose so that I could get to the grocery store and a bath and maybe, just maybe, have a few moments to myself." As she spoke, Hermione's voice became louder and more shrill. "And after spending all day with a sick and screaming baby, I find that you went out to have drinks with your mates? You're such a selfish arse Ronald Weasley!"

Rose awoke suddenly and began to cry. The vehement expression Hermione wore moments earlier softened as she looked lovingly down at her babe.

"Shhhhhhhh," she cooed. In a whisper she continued to Ron. "I'll need you home by 6 tomorrow so that I can pick up a few things from the market before dinner."

"I'll try and manage it," choked Ron, almost at an utter loss for words.

"You need to do be more dependable, Ron. Sometimes I feel like I'm raising her alone."

All he could manage was a nod.

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh as she gazed down at Rose, and began to slowly caress the soft red fuzz atop her head. "I don't know what I'm going to do about you…"

But whether she was still talking to him, or to Rose, Ron was unsure.

Fair Weather Friends

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