I own nothing in these fics. All rights and trademarks go to J.K Rowling. Every Character and concept in the Harry Potter universe goes to her. The rest goes also to Roland Emmerich for Stargate and DC Comics and Bob Kane for Batman.

The darkness crept up around her. She had refused to remove her mask, hiding her face was the only thing she asked for, thinking nothing of it the Aurors accompanying her complied to leave it on.

She smirked, smirked behind her façade, her mask. They would not see it. Yesterday she had been caught—her and her accomplices, at a car park by none other than Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. She thought about the second person again. Ron Weasley: War Hero of the Second Wizarding War against Lord Voldemort.

She made a promise mentally that she would soon have her revenge on the red haired Auror that might as well have ruined her life. Ruined her and drove her to this life of the dark arts.

'Move along, witch,' barked the Auror holding her chains, connected to the magic binding cuffs. Her wand was destroyed, her magic thought broken but she knew better. They were on their way to her transport assigned to carry her to her cell in Azkaban... '…for the murder of—'

'Thirteen Muggle families, three Magical families, twenty-seven House Elves and not to mention every giant in that forest,' she said in a tone of glee, clearly admiring her crimes like trophies won.

Her other escort scoffed and spat at the skull mask hiding her smirk they knew was plastered on her face. 'Wipe that tone off your tongue, bitch, where you're going, there is not time for confidence.'

The Death Eater woman's smirk grew. 'I think it's time to take this mask off now, gentlemen.'

-COMPLICATIONS-

'I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID THAT, YOU'RE SO STUPID!' Ron shielded himself with his arm as a flying plate smashed against his jacket, shattering everywhere. He looked at his wife with remorseful eyes. Yes he told his wife that earlier that day he went to the Chancery Court Hotel in London to accept the job offer from the American Business owner Bruce Wayne. 'YOU ARE A SELFISH, SELF-CENTRED ARSE, HOW COULD YOU BE SO SELFISH, RONALD?!' And now here he was at home, their kids at his brother-in-law Harry's house while his own wife Hermione was sending wave after wave of their ceramic plates across the kitchen, all targeted at him.

'Hermione…love, please calm down,' he tried.

'SHUT IT, WEASLEY!' she roared as she sent yet another plate at him. 'YOU DO NOT GET TO "LOVE" or…or…"HONEY" ME, RONALD!'

Ron stood on one side of the room while Hermione on the other, opposite each other with only their dinner table as a barricade. When Hermione tried to go around and towards him, Ron seeing only the anger in her eyes and voice avoided her and ran further away. 'Calm down, woman!'

Hermione ignored him and continued to chase him around the table. 'YOU DON'T GET TO LOVE ME IF YOU'RE GOING TO KEEP MAKING DECISIONS WITHOUT ME, ISN'T THAT WHAT MARRIAGE IS ALL ABOUT!' Hermione was losing it, Ron could see her breaking further and after a while of chasing, Ron decided it was enough and made the most bravest move in his life—he ran up to a screaming Hermione Weasley nee Granger and took her into his arms. She started to struggle and scream against him, calling him a 'crazy git' and all sorts of other words he'd never knew she'd say.

'It's alright, Hermione,' he started in a soothing and gentle tone, slowly and lovingly stroking her hair and sighed in relief when he saw she was beginning to breath normally and stropped her struggling. 'Like I said last night, I will never leave you the way I did before—'

'You're right, you're not, and instead you're making a new way of leaving me!' her screams became cries, burying her head in his chest. 'Why can't you do the smart thing for once?'

'Maybe I still need to do the right thing first?' he answered back coolly. 'Wayne told me of my objectives, Hermione. He told me how important it was, this job. How the fate of the world needed this team that he wanted me to lead…me…Ronald Bilius Weasley, the last son, the unplanned one. Hermione I need this.' They broke apart and he looked into her captivating brown eyes. 'You're right, Hermione, I should have talked to you first but I knew you'd try and stop me but look…Some people might not care much when they are not treated as heroes and someone else is; but to be right next to that someone when they do that—it's torture, Hermione, and I'm not just talking about Harry but you as well. I've been overshadowed by other people's greatness or my own lack of this greatness that I actually started to believe them myself.' Ron closed his eyes as he felt some tears begin to escape. He continued. 'And at last there is someone that actually needs something of me than to stand a little bit away from the Chosen One while they take his photographs.'

Hermione looked at her husband, feeling somewhat hurt. 'And you don't think that I might need something of you?' she inquired. 'You don't think that I might need your trust and faith enough to include me in your decisions? Don't you love me anymore?'

'No.' Ron walked her over to the living room where they sat down on the couch, 'You have my love, Hermione, always and I will never leave you I said. It's just that I…I feel like I'm the only one who feels privileged and grateful that you actually agreed to marry me in the first place…it's hard to explain, love.' Ron through his arms, defeated. 'For once, Ronald Weasley wants to matter and this guy is offering me a chance to be a leader for once.'

Hermione sighed. She understood what her husband was going at and knew that it was probably too late for her to do anything. If there was one thing Hermione Weasley hated, it was feeling powerless. 'I…I,' she could not form the words appropriate to her cause. Maybe she should call Rose in? Ron was very close to his daughter. Both shared quite a lot of similarities— from the fiery red hair to her supernatural appetite and love of food.

'Look, I have a few more days to get ready and Wayne might even go without me and I would have to wait until he needs me. All it was is that I agreed to his offer. I won't leave you so suddenly, Hermione. Not this time.'

Ron jumped a bit in his seat when Hermione rose up to a stand and looked him down. 'I will hold you to your word, Ronald. I will trust you to keep it but if you don't, if you leave me again in the dead of night…'

Ron was afraid of what she was about to say but as fate had it he was spared that as Hermione had quietened. She was asleep, rested and in peace on his shoulder.

-O-

The next morning after Ron was to drop Hugo at his Muggle private school, Ron spent most of his time at the Ministry of Magic. The Aurors were all in their own offices that day, only some were assigned to patrols around public events around Muggle London.

He had not recovered from his row with Hermione the night before and the two had gone into silence whenever they were to come across each other. He had called Bruce Wayne and told him that the job would have to be put on hold if not terminated completely, until he could sort out his own problems domestically.

Ron sat at his desk with absolutely nothing in front of him—no paperwork or warrants to sign, sometimes being a Senior Auror was quite boring.

Maybe that was what Hermione felt? He thought. Maybe she fears that I had accepted the job just for thrill-seeking—but was it true?

In truth Ron was hesitant in accepting the job but when given the scope of the issue, he changed his mind. This was not just about National Security anymore—according to the reports it seemed far more pressing and dire…another thing that Hermione might have issues with.

Harry was there too but Ron made an effort to avoid him for a while. It was not a falling out per say like what had happened in their fifth year of Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament, no this was more of a way to avoid having to talk to him about all that had transpired within two days.

It was Harry that directed Bruce Wayne to him. Ron guessed that Wayne had also informed Harry about the project as well.

He took out the folder from Wayne that he was advised to protect and began to flip through it. Several photo shots of a grey circular ring with strange markings around the faces.

The next pages were profiles of various candidates considered for recruitment. 'Project Argonaut,' he read the heading atop the page. He was about to read on until he looked at his watch, it was now 2:46pm and Ron was late. He had to pick Hugo up from school and Hermione had told him to do it the Muggle way and use a car.

Ron quickly closed the folder and with a charm upon it the words and pictures faded into blank pages, he then securely placed it in his drawer.

He grabbed his overcoat and ran off down the hall and flooed to the Muggle car park that he left his Muggle vehicle at.

He drove as fast as he could but keeping in mind those rules of the road that Hermione had basically seared into his skull. Damn me and my unquenched desire to take a Bookworm for a wife, he muttered to himself.

3:30 had just appeared on his watch. 'Three—thirty, ah, bloody hell.' He groaned again louder, making a nervous and pained face as he saw his son sitting by the kerb in front of his school.

He watched as Hugo picked up his bag and climbed into the back seat of the car.

'M sorry, Hugo, I sorta lost track of time at work,' Ron attempted to apologize but the silence Hugo offered had shut him up as well. 'I promise this will be the last time, okay?'

Still silent, Ron swallowed hard and refocused on the road, driving off and heading home. Hugo was too young for him to apparate home with thus why he had to learn the old Muggle way. To Ron it was annoyingly frustrating.

They continued to travel in silence and Ron tried to keep from stating how uncomfortable he felt at that moment. They came to a stop as traffic became tight. As Hugo still seemed content with giving his old man the silent treatment, Ron was starting to get agitated.

'Are you going to say something, son?' still no response, Hugo just kept his arms crossed and stared out the window. Ron sighed, defeated once again.

After what seemed like forever and the traffic ahead still didn't seem to clear Ron sounded the horn. Naturally from experience he would guess that they'd honk back and he would be drawn into an automotive honking joust but alas he was surprised to find there to be quiet.

Looking around him, checking every mirror—he saw it, on the sidewalk was a man stuck in a running pose. He looked like he was moving but in truth the man was petrified on the spot.

'What the hell…'

'What is it, dad?' Hugo asked, looking rather fearful.

Ron gave a weak chuckle as he looked to his son. 'Oh, now you want to talk to me.' Ron put his car into reverse but had to stop as there was another car behind him. He was surrounded. Ron spotted a…a woman in black. She wasn't a Death Eater, no, she was wearing muggle clothing. Such Anti-Muggle extremists would never betray their pride and wear such attire.

The woman was around mid-twenties. She had raven coloured hair and a beautiful, pale face with an over confident smirk smeared onto it. The woman was wearing skin tight black jeans, blouse and coat.

She was also approaching them. At this realisation, Ron drew out his wand, ran outside and took his son with him. Of course, she pursued.

'Dad, wait…slow down.'

Ron just ignored him and they continued to sprint through the frozen streets. Around men, women, children, all muggles and were immobile. What sort of magic was this?

As they ran, the woman now joined by nine men in black hoodies pursued without any change of pace in their steps, like they knew exactly how fast they needed to travel in order to catch them. Ron needed a plan and because it was more than dangerous to apparate with his son being so young—Ron would have to fight.

He'll send Hugo away to hide or wait for Harry. He had already sent a distress call through Patronus. He'll have Harry pick his son up while he holds back the attackers.

They ran and ran with them hot on their tails. Ron had fired several stunning shots but to his amazement the woman held up her hand and the magic seemed to have been absorbed into her palm. What was she?

Panic spread through Ron's veins. Blast, he found himself blocked off where the roads ended and a brown brick wall barricaded them from the other side. Looking to his left, Ron saw a wide alleyway. This was not a good day. One way or another Ron knew he'd have to confront his assailants. He held his son's hand tightly and they made way for the alleyway.

The woman behind them just smiled wider. She had been doing this, being a hired 'gun' so to speak, for nearly nine centuries—to her this was all too easy.