In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 52: Pressure
Gia fitted the cap to the thermos very early Monday morning. She slung it's strap over her arm, along with a light sack, and walked out into the cold night. Goosebumps went up her skin as she got onto the back of Harry's Firebolt, her feet already accustomed to the cold.
"Ready?" Harry asked as she wrapped her arms around his waist, her hands wedged themselves on his crotch.
"Ready," Gia said.
She felt his legs push as they took off, and they flew. A warming charm came over her, knew it to be him, as they reached a small snow covered peak, a bit of an ice plateau above a frozen ice lake, a peak that reached about the top of the trees on the shore below. Starlight was sufficient to make out it was a small picnic area. Harry grabbed an chunk of firewood, set fire to it as it went into the large ring around the pit. Snow melted as the fire grew.
Gia set down the pad from the sack, they sat next to each other, his legs open.
"Good thing this is an all season place," Harry said, "Stay here until sunrise."
"Think he'll try again, to invade?" Gia asked as she held his arm.
"He won't give up, not yet," Harry said, "Bit risky as he's more active at night. But can't live my life without risk, can I?"
"We're managing," Gia said.
"Barely," Harry said, "Requires more time, but I'm not sure how much time we'll be given, or steal."
"Meaning?" Gia asked.
"This link, goes back since that night," Harry said.
Harry levitated another couple of small rounds of firewood into the fire. Gia opened the small sack, pulled out a couple of long skewers, and a bag of marshmallows. Puffed white to the end of each, Harry held one over the flames, Gia held the other.
"He's…he's one that's known for his killing curses," Harry said, "Maybe he could do it silently, but enunciating the curse is part of the ritual for him, the victim having to endure hearing those final words they'll ever hear. For him to fail meant something, which, of course, is why I'm famous—something I'd trade in an instant if it meant a normal life, with my folks still around."
"Glad you made it," Gia said as she turned her marshmallow.
"Dumbledore explained it to me my first year, a bit," Harry said, "My mother sacrificed herself for me, the love was strong enough to jinx the curse when it came to me, and formed the connection. Before he rose in that graveyard, Voldemort would turn to dust, unable to touch me, though he didn't die — he stole enough blood from me to be able to counter that. He knows fear, intimidation, knows about love, but doesn't really understand love, though I don't think anybody truly does."
"I love you," Gia said as she handed her skewer over to him.
Gia took out some graham crackers, chocolate squares. Harry added the marshmallows, and she closed them off with another layer of the crackers. She handed one to Harry.
"Love's why I'm around," Harry said as he nibbled, "My abilities to counter him are at their strongest when I'm passionate and banging."
"It's…improved," Gia said, "You're not letting your mind wander, you're definitely focused."
"I have to be," Harry said, "Been working on the other magic for months, the one that lets me fight back, defeat the connection, keep him out—because Dumbledore suspected it might be exploited. But, I'm inexperienced and it's a tricky sort of magic. However, when we're banging, my love's at the strongest, and that's enough to shut Voldemort out, close the door, until he tries again."
"Terrible prescription," Gia said, "Banging."
"I know!" Harry said.
They both laughed.
"Should be an hour to sunrise," Harry said.
They sat there and watched as the sky grew lighter, the fire burned hot enough to lend them warmth.
Hermione wasn't certain if she actually had gotten to sleep or not, beneath the blankets on the queen sized bed in the room at the inn in Noigate. She heard Mark's snores next to her. She wondered if she'd be forgiven for slipping out and sleeping in Gia's bedroom, however, this was Aunt Cindy and Uncle Jarod, not her parents.
Hermione knew she should be sad, grieving, however, she simply didn't feel it, felt guilty in being happy they were gone, that she'd be free to attend Hogwarts and not forceably withdrawn. However, Cardiff did have that cute, handsome, boy that she didn't get the name of.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
A light went on as Uncle Jarod flipped it on.
"Time to get up," Uncle Jarod announced.
"Hermione first to the shower, if you want," Aunt Cindy.
Hermione grabbed her bathrobe and got up, went over, into the bathroom. She turned the knobs, stepped in.
"I need to use—" Mark protested outside, loud.
Hermione turned up the water, moved the head so it made noise on the curtain to drown out the argument.
"Harry…" Hermione muttered.
She wanted to see him, her friend, again. Ron, not so much.
…
An hour and a breakfast later, Hermione slipped into the conference room of the attorney, Andrew Haller. Aunt Cindy and Aunt Cheryl were also there. Hermione watched as the overweight man came into the room.
"I'm sorry for your loss," said Andrew Haller, setting down copies of papers, "Luckily Linda and Charles Granger had planned for the inevitable and had chosen me to be the executor of their estate as their daughter is not yet of age. They had last updated their will about three years ago, and I see nothing worth contesting. As you can see, most of their estate goes to Hermione. Gifts to family, and scholarships to their nephew and nieces."
"How much?" asked Aunt Cheryl.
"Depends on the insurance payouts," Andrew Haller said, "Life insurance, and insurance on the house with its belongings. Fortunately, they had their auditor for their dental practice also conduct routine inventory of their house, so it'll be close to good. They had a third partner to the practice, so he'll be consulted on the necessary buyout of the Granger's share — unless one of you is interested."
Hermione shook her head, she's had enough of dentistry.
"And, that leaves one last matter," Andrew Haller said, "Custody of you."
Hermione took a moment.
"Aunt Cindy, you're being very kind," Hermione said before she blurted, "If blokes like Ron and Harry can do it, I'm overqualified for emancipation."
"How old are you?" Andrew Haller asked.
"Sixteen," Hermione said, "Going to a boarding school, so I'm not home much anyways, don't…didn't really consult them much. Spent last summer on a trip with friends, a week at most. Doubt I'd be back more than a handful of holidays before I've finished. Practically speaking, I'm already been making my own decisions, emancipation would simply be a formality."
"We'd love to have you finish the holiday in Cardiff," Aunt Cindy said.
"Ta," Hermione said.
"I admire the organization of your parents," Aunt Cheryl said, "You must drive the other students mad."
"I do," Hermione confessed.
"They've listed a cemetery, priced out options for fifty years from now," Aunt Cheryl said, "Unfortunately, it's a bit sooner than they planned on needing them."
Hermione snorted.
"Due to the nature of the incident," Andrew Haller said, "Don't expect the police to release their remains immediately, as autopsies will be performed—unless there's a strong religious objection."
"No," Hermione said as she shook her head. Her parents had practically stopped attending church years earlier, outside of Easter.
"We're planning a private memorial later," Aunt Cheryl said to Andrew Haller, "You're welcome to join us."
"Taking that under advisement," Andrew Haller said, "Unless you've got further questions, I've got paperwork to fill out. Trust me, it's worth my fee."
Hermione followed Aunt Cindy out to the car, put her knees to the dash as she brought out her diary. Pulled out a quill.
"That's old–fashioned," Aunt Cindy said, "Please, don't get it on the seats."
"Better penmanship," Hermione said as she wrote.
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Dear Diary
Hate to be the Christmas Grinch, but whoever killed my parents did me a favor. I should send the culprits a thank you note. Know it wasn't Ron, he's not that thoughtful.
Ron stumbled down the stairs a minute after he woke. A bit fogged until he reached the bottom. Professor Lupin sat at the small bar, sipping tea while reading the newspapers.
"Aren't you supposed to be at school, or hiding from the moon?" Ron asked.
"That's next week," Professor Lupin said, "And would you believe that staff get holiday too?"
"Yet you're spending it here," Ron grumbled as he put a slab of bacon onto the grill, "Fred and George are great for the holidays, aren't they?"
"Well, I'm supposed to be observing you," said Professor Lupin, "Where better to do it?"
"I'm—" Ron said, "You're seeing everything."
"No," Professor Lupin said, "You're wearing your hat."
"Slept with it," Ron said.
"Unusual choice," Professor Lupin said.
"It can be rather opinionated," Ron said.
"Shh!" the hat whispered to Ron.
"I see," Professor Lupin said.
"And no, I don't know where Harry is," Ron said as he flipped the bacon.
"Who ever said—" Professor Lupin started.
"You were about to," Ron replied as he flipped the bacon onto a plate.
Knife and fork, Ron cut into it, and ate.
"Any plans for today?" Professor Lupin asked.
"No," Ron lied.
"Maybe you could help find Harry?" Professor Lupin said, "Professor Dumbledore feels it's of utmost urgency, therefore, it should be of utmost urgency to you."
"I know where my loyalty lies," Ron said, "If you excuse me, I need to change. Might go back to Diagon Alley, buy another thing from Sibley's Cakes."
"Careful, you'll put on many pounds with those," Professor Lupin said, "And at your age, easy to forget that your metabolism is about to slow down…until it's too late and the scale's cursing from the burden."
Ron went up the stairs, returned to the bedroom. He grabbed Harry's Portkey, activated it.
Hoot!
Ron gave Hedwig an owl treat, stroked a couple of feathers, before he walked around.
"Hi," said Richard.
Ron entered Richard's bedroom. Richard laid on the bed, but faced the floor.
"Any news?" Ron asked.
"Mum's angry, best to avoid her," Richard said, "Hermione's parents, of course, perished, but before the fire."
"Before?" Ron said, "They could tell?"
"Apparently, if you die before the fire," Richard said, "You don't breathe in smoke, which they didn't find."
"Oh," Ron said, a bit impressed the muggles could figure something like that out.
"Sorry," Richard said, "I totally forgot to ask about Hermione."
Ron grunted.
"I'll totally remember when Mum comes home," Richard said, "Promise."
"It's okay mate," Ron said as he realized taking the stress off was better. Surprised his reading for Harry helped.
"Oh," Richard said, "Thought I saw Snuffles."
"He's here?" Ron asked.
"On my morning run," Richard said, "Bit lonely without Harry with me."
"Ta," Ron said.
He activated Harry's Portkey, it took him back to his guest room in London. Ron glanced at Hermione's trunk, on the floor beneath the bed, next to his. Ron wrapped his arms into the plaid muggle overshirt, left the bedroom. Down the steps, Sirius blocked the front door.
"Ronald," said Professor Dumbledore, from the armchair in its familiar spot next to the fireplace, "If I may—"
"Excuse me—?" Ron started.
Ron's eyes, though, spotted a figure stepping in from the kitchen, one sporting jet black hair, and a scar on the forehead. A glance to the bottle green eyes and Ron knew better. His wand appeared in his wand as it discharged, a red beam of magic hit this impostor.
"Ron!" Fred snapped as this Harry landed on their posterior, stupefied.
"I don't know who that impostor is—" Ron started.
"We did not expect it to fool you Ronald," Professor Dumbledore said, "While you seem unwilling to help in locating Mr. Potter, it is clear that others are actively trying to locate him. By having Nymphadora, and others, impersonate the image of him, we can keep other agents confused."
"Good plan," Ron remarked.
"We're so–oo glad that you approve," George said.
"On that note," Professor Dumbledore said, "I would like to have yourself impersonated too—"
"Me?" Ron stammered.
"It's easy to do," Fred said, "Or would be if we didn't have to stoop—"
"Git!" Ron snapped.
"Yourself and Harry are frequently seen together," Professor Dumbledore said, "It would improve our odds—"
"I'll consider it," Ron said, impatient for the door.
"I apologize for my tone yesterday," Sirius said, "Have some tea before you go." Sirius held out a cup to Ron.
Ron sniffed it, smelled something familiar.
"Veritaserum," the hat whispered.
"Thanks but no thanks," Ron said, "Will you stop—"
Ron caught the piercing gaze from Professor Dumbledore's blue eyes, not twinkling.
"We are insistent on protecting your friend," Professor Dumbledore said.
Inward the gaze probed, Ron felt it coming inward. He struggled for a moment before he pushed his gaze of Hermione's burnt house to the surface.
"I'm sorry—" Ron started.
The gaze eased up.
"I am sorry if I misjudged you," Professor Dumbledore said, "Your concern for Miss. Granger must be overwhelming you at the moment. I wish you more luck, however, do make inquires regarding Mr. Potter for his well being should also be of concern."
Ron left the house, sweated.
"That was close," Ron thought, "And quite strong."
"He is above the average," the hat whispered, "I could sense your struggle."
"You helped?" Ron replied, "Thanks."
"It is wise to have a thinking hat," the hat whispered.
Ron snorted.
…
"Sometimes the old ways are more productive," Sirius said.
"Sirius—you must understand that he is being consumed by that fire," Albus Dumbledore said, "He may not have been personally there, but he heart is. We will need to keep a watch on him—perhaps using Mr. Potter's disappearance to help him move on."
"This is depressing us all," Remus Lupin said, "At least we have a way to distinguish Potters—have Ron stun them."
"That—I didn't see it coming," Nymphadora Tonks said as she got up, her Harry image nearly gone, "I could've sworn he didn't have his wand out."
"Fastest I've seen," said Albus Dumbledore.
"Better than the fortnight I commonly see," Remus Lupin said.
…
Ron met up with Percy in the Atrium of the Ministry for Magic, adjusted the hat on his head.
"Cutting it a bit close," Percy said, "Still—your audit—I've garnered a reputation of being tough."
Ron snorted.
"It's going to help my career," Percy said, "I've been recommended for a promotion."
Victor Fallerschain came out from the lifts, walked across the atrium, climbed a few steps and stood behind an elevated podium.
"Good morning," Minister Fallerschain said, "Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedules.
"I am pleased to announce that I have proposed to the Wizengamot that we reduce the VAT by one percent. The splendid sleuthing done by the Audit division has uncovered many ways to reduce costs while maintaining an excellent level of service. As those reforms are implemented, we will continue to reduce the VAT and allow every citizen to know that they will be well benefited from every hard earned Knut they do surrender. My sources indicate that this will be the first tax cut in living memory.
"I have also authorized and released funds to facilitate essential repairs at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which will include reconstruction of the North Tower. While the Headmaster and myself do not necessarily see eye to eye, we both agree that the children are our future and their education should not suffer to politics. Still, our worthy Auditors will be overseeing this project to ensure that every Galleon is spent wisely."
Ron glanced at Percy for a moment before returning his attention to the Minister.
"What about the Muggleborn's demolition of her home?" a reporter asked, "What role did Harry Potter play, especially in light of his tendencies demonstrated at Hogsmeade?"
"First, this was a tragedy," the Minister said, "Two have been confirmed dead and the Ministry extends its condolences to the friends and family of the victims. Any charm used has been deemed to be minor, and unless the muggleborn witch is confirmed to be among the dead, this will be considered a muggle affair and is being left to them to sort it out.
"Second, due to interference from the Headmaster, no evidence has come to light to either completely exonerate or convict Harry Potter or his friends. As all charges related to Hogsmeade have been tabled and are unlikely to be reexamined without new substantial information, it is highly unlikely that either Harry Potter or his friends would intentionally cause this incident. It is therefore being treated as an unfortunate accident."
"However," another reporter said, "In forming the Harry Potter Guidance Committee, you cited murder as to why it was being formed. So, what role is the committee playing in investigating this act of Dark Arts by this blooming Dark Wizard?"
Ron choked for a moment.
"Let me make this clear," Minister Fallerschain said, "This Ministry does not believe that Harry Potter nor his friends are going Dark. We formed the committee to help Harry Potter overcome his behavioral issues which can sometimes erupt from angst regarding problems for any teenage wizard, especially one whose parents were tragically murdered at an early age. We hope, through Dolores Umbridge and the others, that we can impart wisdom upon Harry Potter to try to keep him from becoming a burden on society.
"If Dolores Umbridge has a fault, it is that she cares too much for her charge and can become over–zealous in trying to protect Harry Potter. An unfortunate side effect of her recent efforts is that Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore are thumbing their noses at this committee. I have instructed Dolores to take a gentler approach to try to coax Harry Potter back to a state normalcy. We all adopted Harry Potter in our hearts fifteen years ago, and so it is in all of our interests straighten him out."
"Balderdash!" a reporter snarled.
"Has Harry Potter brainwashed you?" another reporter demanded, "Imperius curses have been used before! Or bribes!"
"I strongly refute that accusation," the Minster said, "All employees—myself included—are being required to submit their personal finances to the auditors, effective immediately. And hereafter, they will be reexamined at least every three months. While I do not believe that any bribery or corruption has occurred during my tenure as Minister, you, the citizens, deserve assurances to that.
"I would like to speak further, but we have run out of time for today. Due to the holidays, our next session will be in three weeks. I wish everybody a happy Christmas!"
"See?" Percy said to Ron, "The Minister can be reasonable."
Ron left the Ministry, returned to Blackfoot Yard. Inside, the living room was empty, a scan with his wand, and nothing showed. Ron went up to his bedroom, where Hedwig was already there, next to Pig. Ron gave Hedwig an owl treat, opened up the letter written with muggle blue pen on muggle ruled paper.
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Ron,
Talked to Mum. Hermione showed up after the fire started, wasn't home at the time. I don't know where Hermione's staying though.
Richard.
Ron sighed and grinned as he sat down.
Ron stretched as he got out of bed Tuesday morning. He grabbed his bathrobe as he went for the door.
"And me?" the sorting hat asked.
"Gets suspicious to keep showering with you," Ron said as he left.
Wood beneath his bare toes, Ron went down the steps, the odd creaks had become familiar. Velvet carpet on the landing by Fred's and George's room, before he went to the living room. A rug sent it's fibers between his toes, when he spotted the familiar wizard at the table, Professor Dumbledore.
"Pardon," Ron said as he went into the kitchen.
A grab of the handle, the scrubber on the frying pan stopped, and he put it on the gas stove.
"Mind a spot of a bit extra?" Professor Dumbledore said, "Shouldn't be much, I don't have the appetite of a teenager."
"Don't you have a school with House Elves to run?" Ron asked as he threw on an extra patty of bacon.
"And plenty of staff disrupting my meals with questions," Professor Dumbledore replied.
"Cafes between here and the Leaky Cauldron," Ron said, "Muggles wouldn't know who you are, serve you without a bother."
"Alas," Professor Dumbledore said, "You see through my cunning plan."
"I'm suspended," Ron said, "You shouldn't be socializing with suspended students, right?"
"To the contrary," Professor Dumbledore said, "Suspension typically indicates issues that warrant extra scrutiny, such as now."
Ron raised his eyebrows as he cracked the eggs. Wand out as the bread flew into the toaster.
"At least you carry that," Professor Dumbledore said, "Even to bed?"
"I'm not telling you where I keep it," Ron said.
"Evidently fast to take out," Professor Dumbledore said.
"How many take a half hour to find it in their school bag?" Ron said, "No, even seconds betray intent. I practiced."
"Maybe a few lessons for others?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
"No," Ron said, "Then my secret's revealed."
"At least you'll not be caught short," Professor Dumbledore said.
Ron buttered up his toast, added the bacon and eggs, and a second smaller plate for the extra bacon. He carried them over to the table, set them down. Ron sat.
"Any luck with Miss. Granger?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
Ron caught the gaze, knew it was now instinct, as his was becoming, and also understood the conversation would likely turn in a moment, however, best to let the Headmaster reveal himself.
"She wasn't home at the time," Ron said, "So…she survived, but she's not answering my owls."
"She refusing them?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
"We…" Ron said, "We had a row after we left school, she's been…blocking me. She's clearly mad, not sure what it'll take to recover."
"Might be best to address the issue," Professor Dumbledore said, "Presuming you know why she's mad."
"That's obvious," Ron said, "I thought it bloody brilliant at the time, you know, get Harry drunk, get Malfoy to back off." Ron caught the concern. "I've learned now, horrible, but it's not like I could've foreseen the stabbing."
"You know all actions can have unforeseen outcomes," Professor Dumbledore said, "Sometimes you get lucky with mistakes, other times, it goes the other way. In the end, how you act with the information you have on hand, that's how I judge your character."
Ron knew the kicker was about to come, he still worked on his eggs.
"Ordinarily, I've allowed a mild hangover to slide," Professor Dumbledore said, "Hopefully you now appreciate how much danger that high of an inebriation can be? If, as your Miss. Granger likely did the math, estimated ten hours to have passed from last consumption to the point of Poppy's measurement, it's at a level that had a significant chance of killing a muggle. Magic within a wizard can make that less likely, but even a wizard or witch can drink themselves to death."
"I…" Ron started, he hadn't really thought about the drinking itself.
"Even prior to the stabbing," Professor Dumbledore said, "You rolled the dice on your friend's life, was it worth it?"
"No," Ron said.
"It also risked the exposure of your friend's arrangement," Professor Dumbledore said, "One you both seem to cherish, or at least did before the breakup, am I right?"
"Yeah," Ron admitted.
"I believe Miss. Granger is holding you personally accountable for your actions," Professor Dumbledore said, "I'd be ready with an apology if I were you."
"If she'd let me," Ron said.
"Speaking of your friend," Professor Dumbledore said, "Did you two discuss any plans for the winter holiday?"
"Um…" Ron started, felt the twinkling eyes on him, "Didn't get the chance."
"How disappointing," Professor Dumbledore said, "If you get any ideas of where he might be, please let me know."
"Have you considered not trying to find him?" Ron said, "Let him enjoy whatever he's doing?"
"If only it were that simple," Professor Dumbledore said, "Your friend's safety is paramount, not to mention the lessons that could be provided, lessons I'm forbidden from teaching at Hogwarts, but ones that he'd find valuable."
Ron had a shrewd idea, turned his mind to Quidditch as the twinkling began.
"If you don't mind," Ron said as he stood, "I'm needed at the shop."
After a trip up to his bedroom, Ron left the house, dressed, with the hat on his had.
"Vigilance," the hat whispered.
Black in the corner of his eye, Ron turned, the figure had gone. By the time he reached Charing Cross Road, he spotted it again, vaguely familiar, yet it vanished before he could take a solid look.
"Being watched, aren't we?" Ron wondered.
"Yes," the hat retorted.
Ron came to the old bookstore, spun around, his eyes surveyed the entire street, shadows, before he entered the Leaky Cauldron.
"Dark wizard," said one gal at a table with others, "That's the way he's going, and the Ministry denies it."
Ron went into the alley.
"Gone missing—Potter's fault," came from a couple of witches outside the Apothecary.
"Teachers ought to beware if they don't live up to Potter's demands," said a wizard in front of the bookshop to a witch.
Ron caught another glint of black in the corner of his eye before he entered Weasley Wizarding Wheezes.
"That's the basic of what a Death Eater could do, Weasley," said Professor Snape, feet behind him, "Think of what one could do with Potter?"
"I don't fucking know where Harry is!" Ron snapped as he turned around, "Go out and find him, if that's so damn important."
"No harassment of staff is permitted," Fred said as he came over, "Even if they're late!"
"I'm unpaid, remember?" Ron said as he went for the back.
It was well into the afternoon before Hermione watched Uncle Jarod turn the wheel, down the row of houses. Hermione wondered what it'd take to get an apparation license, this would've been much faster by any other means, including a flying carpet.
"We totally understand this is going to take time to adjust," Uncle Jarod said, "Wouldn't mind having you around."
"Best normal is to go back to school, my school," Hermione said.
"Where exactly is that?" Uncle Jarod said, "I'm not sure which St. Mary's you've been referring to."
"I can get there if I'm in London by the sixth of January," Hermione said, figured using the Floo Network—she'd be able to either go straight into the Headmaster's office or use the Post Office and walk from there.
"Can you keep a secret?" Uncle Jarod asked as they pulled up to park in front of the house.
Hermione got out.
"Depends…" Hermione started, until she glanced down.
The boy, the blond haired boy from Saturday stood up from pavement, smiled.
"You waited?" Hermione asked, glancing at his smile above a dark blue T–shirt beneath a dark blue jumper.
"I read minds, know that?" the boy said, "Wanna see a movie?"
"Be back afterwards," Uncle Jarod said, before he leaned into Hermione, "I'm taking your Aunt out so I need you to watch the kids."
"Oh," Hermione muttered.
"Save us a sitter?" Uncle Jarod replied.
"Yeah, I'll have her back," the boy said.
Hermione zippered up her pink jumper, they walked along.
"So," Hermione said, "What's your name?"
"Oh—I didn't tell you?" he replied, "Joey Jasper, or JJ for short."
JJ reached, held her hand as they kept walking. Fingers curled together, and Hermione felt better about this than Ron.
"I play football in school," JJ said, "You play anything?"
"No," Hermione said, "Ron…sorry."
"Your father?" JJ asked.
"NO!" Hermione said, "Ex–boyfriend."
"Aw," JJ said, "Lets not talk about him."
"Of course not," Hermione replied.
They came to the theater. JJ handed over the notes, handed a ticket to her, and they entered. A stop by the concessions, and they're carrying in a bucket of popcorn, a pair of drinks.
"Mum'd kill if she knew how much sugar…" Hermione started, before she realized it was pointless.
"Your parents—your Aunt spilled," JJ said, "I'm sorry."
They entered the large room, took seats.
"It's…that's it," Hermione said, "Had a fight…it's over."
"Sucks, it will," JJ said, "I can take your mind off of it."
"How?" Hermione asked.
Hermione felt the hand that reached, undid the top snap to her trousers.
"Hey!" Hermione snapped.
"Sorry," JJ said, "Thought you dropped something."
"I'm not that naive," Hermione said.
"Movie," JJ said as the lights dimmed.
Hermione took several handfuls of the popcorn, watched the trailer, until she felt her zipper move.
"What?" Hermione muttered.
"Dunno what you're talking about," JJ replied, "Simply unzipped my pocket."
"You've got zippered pockets?" Hermione asked.
JJ took more handfuls of the popcorn, ate as the next trailer came.
"Hey," JJ said, "Think I dropped—mind helping me find it?"
"Where?" Hermione asked.
"Requires an extra hand," JJ said, "Here."
Hermione wasn't sure, but still, moved her right hand over, down, when she felt it between his legs.
"Way, way too fast!" Hermione snapped.
"Sorry, I misjudged you," JJ said, "Bit slower then, alright."
Part of Hermione wanted to accept it, to get back and Ron, however, JJ seemed a bit immature compared to Ron.
"Ask," Hermione said, "Ask before you assume, alright?"
Ron landed Wednesday morning in Gia's bedroom, hat on his head, laid his Firebolt down on the bed. Down the steps and his stomach growled, so he went out. He walked to the Noigate Library, to the cafe across the road, ordered the full breakfast, before he sat. He kept his eyes out, the library was about to open, and he took out The Daily Prophet and spready it open.
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Minister Denies Interference from Potter
by Rita Skeeter
In a bizarre twist of fate, recent speculation has confirmed that Harry Potter is exerting influence on the Minister of Magic, not unlike that which he has done to Albus Dumbledore. Minister Fallerschain has repeatedly refused to confirm the influence Harry Potter may be exerting on the Ministry of Magic. Recent actions by Minister Fallerschain suggests that Harry Potter is in the process of corrupting our beloved Ministry of Magic. In recent actions, the Minister has discharged all liability against Harry Potter for recent murders in Hogsmeade and utterly let him off the hook for a disaster in Noigate.
As a Dark Wizard, Harry Potter would be capable of using the Imperius Curse, or he may simply be bribing selected officials within the Ministry of Magic. The Minister asserted that he is not under the Imperius Curse and has ordered every employee in the Ministry to submit their personal finances to an auditor to verify that Harry Potter is not bribing anyone.
Ron ate his bacon, moved onto the next article.
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Committee Outraged
by Rita Skeeter
Dolores Umbridge, chair for the committee, expressed outrage at both the Minister for Magic, Victor Fallerschain, and the Headmaster at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore, for their persistent meddling and interference into her attempt to rescue Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, from his self–fueled dive into the practice of the Dark Arts. The Minister repeatedly censors press releases from the committee, which obscures the severity of misdeeds of Harry Potter, facts that the public has the right to know. And Dumbledore has repeatedly stonewalled on providing any information about, repeatedly denied access to, and repeatedly refused to implement any of the corrective measures that we all know are in Harry Potter's better interests. We, the Harry Potter Guidance Committee, could use all available ideas, assistance, and resources of the Wizarding World to prevent a tragic hero from turning into the next Dark Wizard.
Ron kept eating as he glanced out at the idle library doors, before he moved onto the letters to the editor.
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Dear Editor,
I am appalled that Albus Dumbledore could let Harry Potter become a Dark Wizard! Dumbledore had the nerve to allow Harry Potter to turn so rotten on us under his very nose. The world would be a better place without Harry Potter.
Sincerely,
Walter Wayne, Kent
Ron drank his orange juice, burped, and set the plate aside.
"As long as you do not take that seriously," said Professor Dumbledore, hand shaking to steady himself on a cane, "A day not roasted in the paper is a day wasted."
"Fancy meeting you here," Ron said.
"Though," Professor Dumbledore said as he sat across the table from Ron, "You may want to be careful with overexposure on that print. It can be hazardous to your health."
"Even Hermione finds it enlightening," Ron said, "Now, did you just happen to be in the neighborhood?"
"Alas, you saw through my cunning alibis," Professor Dumbledore said, "I merely wondering if you had found out more information regarding our mutual friend."
"I told you already!" Ron snapped.
"I would have thought you valued your friendship better than this Ronald," Professor Dumbledore said, "And the fact that you've got his wand disturbs me greatly. That is highly dangerous if we cannot be around to protect—"
"Leave him alone!" Ron yelled as he stood, "Can't you grasp that?"
Ron stormed out of the cafe.
"He's mental!" Ron snapped.
"Merely wishes to protect his charges," the hat whispered.
"Harry's emancipated!" Ron said, "He's nobody's charge!"
"The Headmaster doesn't see it that way," the hat said.
"I know!" Ron snapped, "Don't you get in on the guilt trip!"
Ron returned to 26 Oak Street, huffed as he calmed down, before he went down the steps into the basement. He spotted the light on in the workshop, went over. Richard was bent over the workbench, soldering iron in his hand, as wafts of smoke went up as he went along.
"Was wondering—?" Ron started.
"Don't know much," Richard said, "Other than Hermione's with her relatives. Sorry."
"Ta," Ron said, "Know another method."
"Any news on Gia or Harry?" Richard asked.
"None," Ron said, "Saw them early last week, before—I'm guessing they're not wanting to leave where they are."
Ron went up to Gia's bedroom, wrote another letter to Hermione. He gave Hedwig an owl treat, before he tied the letter on. Ron mounted his Firebolt as she flew out, and he followed her into the cool day, the clouds above.
Wings flapped as Hedwig went among the tree tops. Hedwig first went for the house, the burned out mess, before she turned west.
"STUPEFY!"
Ron blacked out.
…
"Enervate!"
Ron came to, on his back on grass, with the handle of his Firebolt in his right hand.
"Mr. Weasley," said the wizard in a jacket of the Magical Law Enforcement, foot on Ron's right hand, a quill to his pad of parchment, "Flying a broom in broad daylight without a shed of concern for the presence of muggles. Ten galleon fine will be levied in light of your previous infraction three days ago. This will not do you any good to keep breaking the rules."
The wizard bent down, put the parchment into Ron's hands.
"Lets see how many Knuts this saves you," the Wizard said before he disappeared.
"Fuck!" Ron shouted, to nobody.
"A rash fledgling," his hat said.
"I was trying to find Hermione," Ron said, "She's getting the owls!"
Ron stood, stored his broom into his pocket, and walked for the station. A glance of black in the corner of his eye, he spotted the jacket, sighed as he boarded the train. An owl came into the train, dropped a letter into Ron's hands.
"Mr. Weasley," the wizard said as he returned, "Owl post in front of Muggles—"
"I didn't send it!" Ron snapped.
"One Galleon fine," the wizard said as he handed Ron a slip of parchment. He vanished.
Ron opened the letter, with writing style he didn't recognize.
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Ronald No Good Weasley
How dare you conspire to kill Harry's girlfriend! Hope you rot in Azkaban!
Newt Draycott
Ron crumpled up the letter, tossed it aside.
"Littering," said the wizard as he returned, "One Galleon fine!" He handed Ron the slip of parchment. "This isn't looking good for you. Another incident and I may be forced to take you into the Ministry."
"Littering's a muggle thing!" Ron snapped.
"Contempt of authority?" the wizard asked.
"Scram," Ron said.
The wizard left.
"Sheesh!" Ron muttered, wondered what the penalty was to use the train's loo at the next station. "Hat! Know anything about this Ayot Lotworth?" However, Ron's mind turned back to Hermione.
…
Ron caught more black in the corner of his eye as he left Waterloo. A quick walk across the Thames River, he glanced both ways before he entered the Leaky Cauldron on Charing Cross Road.
"Know where Potter is?" demanded Ernie Macmillan from a table.
"Fuck off!" Ron snapped as he went through, into the back courtyard, and tapped with his wand.
Bricks moved, and Ron entered Diagon Alley.
"Not sure if Potter's going dark or not," said one witch to another outside the bookstore.
Ron kept going down Diagon Alley when he came to Sibley Cakes. Ron sank his teeth into the chocolate chip goodness as he moved back up the alley, out through the Leaky Cauldron, and onto Charing Cross Road. Ron made his way to Blackfoot Yard, entered the house, when a greasy voice welcomed him into Fred's and George's living room.
"Weasley!" Professor Snape sneered.
"Which one?" Ron protested, "Beat it, it's a bloody holiday!"
"Expecting the Dark Lord to take a holiday for your convenience?" Professor Snape said, "Hate to burst your delusions to inform you he does not take holidays. Not only has he become upset, it could endanger our plans—"
"Got a plan?" Ron asked.
"When the Dark Lord complains about Muggle breasts—" Professor Snape started.
"Where's this place?" Ron said, "I'd love to see it for myself."
"You arrogant adolescent fool," Professor Snape said, "We haven't got the time for teenage antics! As the Dark Lord is actively seeking Potter, we need to protect—"
"Belt it!" Ron snapped, wand drawn.
"How dare—" Professor Snape said.
"I'm on holiday," Ron said, "Try me."
"Potter is in need of immediate lessons to protect us all," Professor Snape said, "You have been warned."
Professor Snape glared before he disapparated. Ron used his wand, probed the living room for more shadows. He went to the door, peered out, that wizard was there. Ron went to the fireplace, grabbed a handful of Floo Powder, and shouted.
"Percy Weasley!" Ron said.
Ron came out of the fireplace, a small cupboard that overlooked the street of Islington. A moment later, Percy stepped out of that fireplace.
"You best have a good reason," Percy said as he ran the key to the door.
"You lock off your fireplace?" Ron asked
"YES!" Percy said as the wall vanished, to reveal the living room in full, "Please, explain yourself—because it always looks good to take mid–afternoon breaks from work."
"I've been getting citations all day," Ron said as he handed the slips of parchment over, "Think law enforcement is tailing me in retaliation for last week's audit."
"Told you Aurors don't take kindly," Percy said, "Littering, though, is downright petty."
"Can you get them to back off?" Ron said.
"You should be behaving as you're always being watched," Percy said.
"They'd cite me for breathing when Hermione won't speak to me," Ron said, "Can you at least try?"
"No promises," Percy said, finger pointed at Ron.
"Ta," Ron said as he returned to the fireplace.
"Floo Powder sold separately," Percy said, pointed to the door.
Ron went out the door, returned to Blackfoot Yard, and went up to the bedroom. Again, he used his wand to probe the shadows before he sat down on the bed. Quill to his journal, Ron wrote.
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Nice try Dumbledore, thinking that Snape could catch me off guard. Why can't he just leave Harry be? At least Snape confirmed one thing—Harry's doing alright and I think he wants it to stay that way.
Knock! Knock!
Thursday morning, Hermione came to the door, opened it. JJ stood there, in dark blue shirt, a jumper that went halfway to his knees, and jeans.
"I'm sorry for yesterday," JJ said, "Was a bit pressing, bit rude. I'm interested, of course, but you weren't. Sorry."
"I…um…" Hermione muttered.
Hermione glanced at Mark, hunched over by the computer .
"Tell you what," JJ said as he stepped into the house, "Bring him along? Arcade's not too far away."
"Mark?" Hermione asked.
"Um…" Mark muttered, his eyes focused on the movement on the screen
"Outside, play against your cousin?" JJ said to Mark.
Aunt Cindy entered from the kitchen.
"Sounds like a wonderful idea," Aunt Cindy said.
"But—!" Mark started.
"Or, give your sister a bath," Aunt Cindy said to Mark.
"Fine, whatever!" Mark snapped.
Mark stormed up the stairs, returned a moment later with his green jumper.
"What's the occasion?" Mark asked as they left the house.
"Apologizing to Hermione," JJ said as they went along.
"You wanna bang her," Mark said.
"I've got standards," Hermione said, "Boyfriends who aren't jerks, who apologize when they're wrong, and make up for it. Do that and they're halfway there."
"He's horny," Mark said.
"That's obvious," Hermione said, "Still, gives me something to hold onto, shape him into a better person." She wished she had done better with Ron.
Ron left the cafe in Noigate, walked past the library, when he spotted the notice on the bulletin board. "Missing: Gia Prescott" He walked as best as he could, to 26 Oak Street, entered. On the sofa, a thick stack of flyers, when Richard came down the steps.
"Hi," Richard said, "Know anything?"
"Trust them," Ron said, "Stop searching."
"They're MISSING!" Richard said, "Think about that."
"It's a fucking honeymoon—to them," Ron said, "Harry's pissed, took her, and left—after he told Hedwig to bugger off. That's the best theory I have. If it's true, best to not spoil it."
"See my problem?" Richard said, "Exactly what am I to trust? Hermione's parents murdered—"
"Murdered? For sure?" Ron asked.
"Dead before the fire started," Richard said, "Think it's arson but haven't found any accelerant."
"Magic would," Ron said as he sat.
"Why aren't your folks investigating it then?" Richard said.
"Incompetent," Ron said, figuring it the best cover, easier than a full assessment of the Knut pinching by the Minister, not wanting to squander funds to help when everybody thinks Harry's going Dark.
"Wait until Mum finds out Harry's also missing," Richard said, "She's already livid. All I've got is your word that they're both off having a party—for all I know, they're dead in a ditch."
"That'd make our paper way too fast," Ron said, "No, they're alive, and not wanting to be found."
"Understand why I'm terse?" Richard said, "I don't know what to think!"
Ron leaned back against the stairwell, thought for a moment.
"I don't really know what Harry's up to," Ron said, "I—I haven't even been thinking straight myself. It's…knowing everything I've seen and heard leads me to believe that I'm on the right track, that's all."
"Why don't you tell Mum what you know?" Richard asked.
Ron's wand leapt into his hand faster than Ron realized, already had it levelled at Richard.
"Mellow out," Richard said, "Alright?"
"You're not the first to suggest ratting out on Harry," Ron said as his wand retreated.
"Might be the right thing to do," Richard said.
"It's also the utterly wrong thing to do," Ron said, "It'd betray Harry, and her."
Ron moved up the stairs, put an owl treat out for Hedwig.
"She's—hunting, right?" Richard asked.
"Stretch her wings, that sort," Ron said, "Later."
"Gonna vanish?" Richard asked.
"Door," Ron said, "Bit slower, but I'd rather stay away until late."
Ron left the house, took an extra lap around the commons, before he made it to the station, took the train back to Waterloo. He crossed the Thames several times before he decided to go to Charing Cross Road. Ron bowed his head as he crossed the Leaky Cauldron, tapped to enter the snow lined Diagon Alley, spotted the sign of the Apothercary.
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This store refuses service to Dark Arts practitioners.
Ron entered Sibley's Cakes, returned with the small one with chocolate chips, and kept going through the thick crowd. He reached Weasley Wizarding Wheezes and entered.
"Business is doing good," Ron said.
"As long as you don't blow it up," Fred said.
"Excuse—" Ron retorted.
"Go easy!" George said, "We had to setup some sorting on your hate mail—"
"Wha—?" Ron said.
Fred picked up a letter.
"I swear to make you see the light," Fred said, "Or so this bloke from Liverpool wrote to you."
"And that's the gentle one," George said, "You're getting Howlers and curses—you're famous."
"I'd rather not be," Ron stated.
"You might want to speak with the sorter in back," Fred said.
Ron shrugged and walked, past the self–stealing purses, into the back. Professor Lupin closed the door and turned around.
"Ronald, Ronald," Professor Lupin said, "I understand that you told Professor Snape off."
"He deserved it," Ron replied.
"I would've been surprised had you not done so," Professor Lupin said, "I mean, with your friend Hermione's near miss and her parents…it's quite understandable."
"Lots on the mind," Ron said, before he thought about the hat.
"Thinking hat is here sitting and observing," the hat whispered into Ron's ear.
Professor Lupin poured tea into a couple of cups, handed one over to Ron. Ron sniffed at it.
"Nothing detectable," the hat whispered.
Ron sat.
"No," Professor Lupin said, "Unlike another, I did not stoop to Veritaserum. Instead, I hope your trust in me is enough."
Ron dipped a bit of his chocolate chip cake into the tea, ate it.
"Sibley's Cakes are…addictive," Professor Lupin said as he sat across the table from Ron, "Best to watch the pounds both ways."
"Not going to work," Ron said.
"Being cautious is a good thing," Professor Lupin said, "Bonds of friendship can be stronger than the best Fidelius Charm."
"Ta," Ron said.
"However," Professor Lupin said, "There comes a time when we must help that friend by recruiting reinforcements."
"Death Eaters cruising the British Isle haven't found him," Ron said, "Think he's fine."
"Harry's a strong an powerful wizard," Professor Lupin said, "Harry could handle any routine issue, even wandless as I understand him to be."
Ron kept quiet about Harry's wand in the holster.
"He's one wizard, alone," Professor Lupin said, "No wand, no backup, and alone. If he's overpowered, he'd be outwitted and in trouble."
"Lets not advertise that!" Ron snapped.
"I don't know of any reason," Professor Lupin said, "Any reason to justify abandoning a friend to such a defenseless state—"
"I repeat," Ron said as he stood, "I have not seen Harry since I left Hogwarts—I don't know what you intend to accomplish by badgering me about it."
Ron went for the back door, left. He pulled out his Portkey, was in the bedroom on Blackfoot Yard moments later. His wand out, Ron swept the room, and sat on the bed. Ron took out his quill, put it to the pages of his journal.
Mark led the way back out of the arcade. JJ and Hermione followed.
"Good, can get back to Half Life," Mark said.
Hermione snorted.
"Nice game," JJ said, hands in the pockets of his jumper, "Addictive."
"He really wants to bang you," Mark said to Hermione.
"That's obvious," Hermione said.
"He's been playing with himself," Mark said.
"Why lie when I find you attractive?" JJ said to Hermione.
Hermione snorted, again, though she appreciated the honest truth, not something she'd expect from Ron.
"Finally!" Mark said as they returned to the house at the end of the row.
Mark entered, JJ turned to Hermione.
"I'd love for you to try," JJ said.
Hermione took a moment, her eyes focused on his cute face beneath the deep blond hair, those bluish green eyes, the lashes, the fuzz of a beard. Steam from both nostrils billowed between them. JJ leaned in, planted his lips onto hers, and kissed.
"Love you to the end of the earth," JJ said, "Dinner?"
"Maybe," Hermione said as turned around, entered.
She went to the kitchen.
"Ooh!" Trenise said from the dining table in the conservatory, "Hermione's kissing in a tree, first comes love, then come marriage, then comes a baby in a carriage!"
"You two make a lovely couple," Aunt Cindy said.
"He's not Ron," Hermione said.
"Your boyfriend from school?" Aunt Cindy said, "Sorry, I meant, ex–boyfriend."
"One and the same," Hermione said before she went upstairs.
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Dear Diary,
JJ apologized, that's more than Ron ever did. Maybe I don't suck as much at boyfriends as I thought I did.
I do wonder what Harry's up to, with Ron? Ron's not contacted me in a while, must think I'm yesterday's rubbish. It'd be nice to talk with Ginny though, even if it was merely to get back at Ron.
"It's a good question," Remus Lupin said late that evening in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts, "Ron's been consistent in stating that he doesn't know where Harry is."
Albus Dumbledore shook as he steadied himself on his cane, went to the Christmas tree near the fireplace.
"When the tree's needles fall," Dumbledore said, "It means the water's been neglected."
"There's more important things to worry about," Lupin said, watching the old man handle a bit of the nobel fir, "It's why we're pressuring Ron, needling him."
"Even if wasn't suggested this may be my final Christmas," Dumbledore said, "A bit of beauty is never amiss."
"Padfoot has mentioned posters are going up around Noigate," Lupin said, "Gia's missing."
"Unfortunately, no longer our concern as she's broken up with Harry," said Dumbledore.
"Under duress," Lupin said, feeling Harry deserved some representation here.
"Harry was not upset," Dumbledore said, "Not every relationship works out. Luck is the only thing on Harry's side, luck that has so far kept him out of the grips of the Death Eaters, away from Lord Voldemort. I shudder to think what they have in store for Harry. Finding Harry is our top priority."
"I understand that," Lupin said, "However, Ron's—"
"Deceiving us," Dumbledore said, "Every time I or Severus ask, he's deceiving us. He knows more than he's letting on."
"Seemed genuine to me," Lupin said, uncertain why the Headmaster would consider it so but trusted him, "What do you suggest?"
Minerva McGonagall entered the office, paper in hand.
"You ought to be sitting," McGonagall said, "Have you seen this?" She handed The Evening Prophet over to Lupin, who read it aloud.
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Finch–Fletchley, Hogwarts Student Missing
Justin Finch–Fletchley, a sixth year wizard at Hogwarts, has vanished. According to the family, Finch–Fletchley left for a trip to Diagon Alley on Monday and has failed to return. Finch–Fletchley apparently used unreliable Muggle transportation, the role of which is still under Ministry investigation. Unknown is the depth of the investigation into the role that Harry Potter, the aspiring Dark Wizard, has played in this disappearance. Speculation is that this action is in response to Finch–Fletchley's daring testimony against Potter earlier this month. Any person with knowledge about Finch–Fletchley's andor Potter's whereabouts should report immediately to Magical Law Enforcement.
"Have you prepared—?" Dumbledore said.
"A student has vanished," McGonagall said, "And you're worried—"
"Options," Dumbledore said, "I need the option, so, are the cases for induction in good order?"
"Copies to the relevant members," McGonagall said, "Not sure what you hope to accomplish."
"One Justin Finch–Fletchley, may he be found," Dumbledore said, "Finding Harry is not optional, in case Ronald was mistaken to think otherwise."
"How?" Lupin said, "Maybe you haven't noticed, but he's clammed up. Torture might work."
"In normal times," Dumbledore said, "The Sorting Hat would be used to assess the vote, or even encourage the reluctant to speak. Instead, we'll have to resort to methods of old—a secret ballot. It will pass and Ronald will be under the obligations of the oath."
Lupin understood. Tomorrow, Ron would become a probationary member, with all the duties that would entail.
Hermione was uncertain if it was the alarm or the knock that woke her Friday morning. She went to the window, could see the deep blond in the light of the street lamp. She went down the steps, opened the door. JJ in dark blue.
"Oh," JJ said.
"Who is it?" came Aunt Cindy's holler.
"JJ," Hermione replied.
"Didn't have your number," JJ said, "Love to do more with you—"
"Gotta go back home—for today only," Hermione said, "Should be done this afternoon."
"Oh," JJ said.
"Funny thing about death is the paperwork," Hermione said, "Later?"
"Yeah, I'll wait for you," JJ said.
Hermione shut the door, turned.
"That'll encourage you to keep it fast," Aunt Cindy said as she came down the steps, "Best not to wait on things."
…
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Dear Diary,
Been a week since my feud with my now dead parents. Uncle Jarod and I made the trip back to Noigate. I had to sign my emancipation papers, deeds, and what not. Their bodies won't be released until the police detectives are satisfied all possible tests have been done.
JJ — at least Ron knew when not to bring Harry along on a date. I went so far as to borrow a dress from Aunt Cindy, for what turned out to be burgers and bowling with JJ's friend, Roy. Still, JJ's quite passionate, think I can work with this, a bit rough to start, but meeting a new boy's like that.
Hermione shuttered her diary as Trenise approached on her crutches.
"Hermio," Trenise asked, "Where did Aunt Linda go?"
"She died," Hermione said, "She's not coming back."
"But," Trenise asked, her eyes aimed at Hermione's, "Where did she go?"
Uh–oh, Hermione thought, realizing Trenise didn't understand…death.
"So," Hermione asked as she held Trenise's hand, "Did you as your Mum?"
"She lied too," Trenise said.
"Death is…death," Hermione said.
"Mark always says I'm dead," Trenise said.
"Trenise," Aunt Cindy said as she stood at the door, "Time for bed, I'll help you back downstairs."
"Aunt Cindy," Hermione said, "Explain death to her."
Trenise stomped as she left, the noise reverberated.
"I…" Hermione muttered, as it started to really hit her, her parents weren't returning, there was more to them than a silly fight. A tear flowed down her cheek, wanted a shoulder to cry on, she'd even take Ron's.
Ron left Weasley Wizarding Wheezes with the letter in his hands.
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Be home at exactly seven.
Fred
Ron wondered it strange to get a note instead of a direct statement. A bit early, Ron stopped by Sibley's Cakes. Ron bit into the chewiness, wondered if he should actually have a proper dinner instead, knowing his Mum would've insisted on that.
"What are you doing here?" came the faint voice that Ron ignored.
Ron left the Leaky Cauldron, walked along Charing Cross Road, and made for Blackfoot Yard. He rechecked the parchment.
"Strange…" Ron muttered as he reached for the door knob.
Ron's wand was drawn before he made it though the door, entered.
"Caution is good," Professor Tonks said from her seated position at the base of the stairs.
Ron glanced around the crowded living room. Hagrid crouched as he sat in the corner, head brushed against the ceiling. Lupin was on a plush armchair, next to the customary one for Professor Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall's eyes were also on Ron, among the many faces, some of which, Ron didn't have the names at the tip of his tongue.
"Welcome!" Professor Dumbledore anonunced, "I have the privilege of welcoming you into the Order of the Phoenix. Your visit to the Ministry swayed the doubters—"
"Not all of the doubters were persuaded," Professor Snape said. Ron figured Snape was among those.
"You impressed enough boy," Mad Eye Moody said, "We're always teething issues for newcomers—"
"And why's that?" Ron asked
"Where do I send Harry's gift?" Hagrid demanded.
"N—no—" Ron started as he backstepped toward the door.
"We are an army waiting to protect your friend," Mad Eye Moody said, "Certainly you would want the troops deployed reasonably—unless—an impostor—"
"I certainly would have believed that explanation if I hadn't listened to Albus going on about this," Professor McGonagall said, "I would think the spirit of Gryffindor house would be sufficient for a friend to divulge what he knows—"
"Sorry," Ron said, "Not going to—"
"Every member of the order is required to cooperate—" Professor Dumbledore said.
"I've not accepted the bloody thing!" Ron snapped.
"That's technically true," Professor Tonks said, "He's not taken—"
"And if this is how you treat members," Ron said, "I'll refuse it!"
"Never has a Gryffindor refused admission into Godric's group," Professor McGonagall said.
True, the hat retorted into Ron's head, however, your reasoning is sound.
"Weasley has never been the brightest of the lot," Professor Snape said.
"Harry needs to be protected," Professor Dumbledore said, "Every Death Eater is—"
"And what about him!" Ron snapped as he pointed at Professor Snape.
"He has proven his worth," Professor Lupin said, "Time and time again, whereas you're—"
"If Harry turns up dead," Sirius said, "Do not expect—"
"Just what is the procedure for a refusal—?" Professor McGonagall started to ask.
"Obliviate!" Professor Snape started to yell.
"Expelliarmus!" Ron shouted, wand drawn.
Professor Snape's wand flew onto the floor, bounced and rolled; only Professor Dumbledore's foot stopped it from going into the fireplace.
"I shall not be a part of any group demanding I betray a friend," Ron stated before he went back out the door.
"Ron—" Professor Tonks said as she followed Ron back out onto Blackfoot Yard.
Ron turned around at the edge of the street, his eyes glared upon hers, her back to the door.
"I'm sorry but they should not have assaulted you like that," Professor Tonks said as he felt the strong desire for reconciliation behind her words, "I don't pretend to fully understand what you're up to, but it's touching—let's just say they can get a little obsessed."
"That's an understatement," Ron stated as he turned around, "I'll be back after it clears out."
"You need to understand that Professor Dumbledore is under a lot of pressure too," Professor Tonks said as she rushed to step in front of him.
"Not my problem," Ron stated as he took a step forward, she backed up.
"Yes it is," Professor Tonks said, "You respect him enough to listen to his constant badgering. The Ministry is compelling Professor Dumbledore to produce Harry for that committee."
"And he's ignoring them," Ron said.
"Ignoring the Ministry comes with a price, even if theirs no official penalty to do so," Professor Tonks said, "Remember that."
"Later," Ron said, "Maybe."
Ron stepped around her, continued. Ron didn't stop to think, made it to Regent's Park, sat at a bench around the fountain.
"Think I'm being true," Ron said to nobody particular, watching the water shoot upward, "What'd you think?"
Ron was certain of it, that Harry simply didn't want to be disturbed, and as a friend, he felt obligated to protect that.