In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 53: Winter Solstice
"Today's the Winter Solstice," Finnigan shouted from on top of the table in private parlor for the Leaky Cauldron, Saturday morning.
Neville watched as Finnigan spun around, mug in hand, to the crowd that was assembled.
"It's the darkest day of the year," Finnigan said, "And the darkest day of our lives. Who'll join me in making the world a brighter place?"
Cheers.
"Justin Finch–Fletchley," Finnigan said, "Wherever you are, we're coming to get you, hold on, your next drink's on me."
Claps.
Ron left the bedroom in a hurry after he woke up. He nearly flew down the stairs, only stopped at the bottom when he heard the pans rattle from the kitchen.
"Hi—" came the voice.
Ron's wand drawn, leveled at Professor Lupin.
"You're the fastest draw I've seen," Professor Lupin said, "I was helping myself to a little breakfast, I can add a spot for you."
"Ta," Ron said as he entered the bathroom.
"I'm impressed," Professor Lupin said as Ron returned, "I can't tell if you're conjuring up the wand, though a usable wand isn't conjurable."
Ron sat on the bar stool.
"Figure that taking any time, be it a minute or even seconds," Ron said, "Kinda gives it away, gives an opponent time to stop you."
"True," Professor Lupin said, "Glad you're thinking. I'd love to know the secret."
"I practiced," Ron said, "Sorry, but I'm only sharing it with Hermione, and Harry when he returns."
"From where?" Professor Lupin asked as he set the plate in front of Ron.
"Wherever he is," Ron said as he started to eat, "Not that—"
"It's important," Professor Lupin said, "Headmaster thinks you're lying, that you do know."
"What?" Ron said, "Think I've spoken with Harry since school?"
"At least maybe on what Harry was planning for the holiday?" Professor Lupin asked.
"Plans?" Ron said, "We hadn't planned anything! Sorry, you can ask all you want, I don't know the answer."
"Help us search?" Professor Lupin asked.
"NO," Ron said, "Anybody who cares about Harry—butt out! Alright? He's not the child you all seem to think he is."
Ron certainly didn't want to share the fruits of his research, even after having lost his coach on it, Hermione's mother.
"After last night," Professor Lupin said, "We're uncertain to your loyalties—"
"My faith is in Harry," Ron said, "I wish I had Hermione's."
Ron stood, only the eggs and bacon gone, the rest remained.
"We won't stop asking," Professor Lupin said.
"No, no, no, and no," Ron said, "That's my final answer."
Ron went up the stairs, to the bedroom. Ron grabbed the crumpled letter, the one for Hermione, opened it. He grabbed fourteen sheets of parchment, brought a quill to the pages on the desk, and copied the letter. Ron tied one letter to Pigwidgeon's foot, tossed it out the window. Ron activated Harry's Portkey, landed in Gia's bedroom.
"Hello," Ron said as he fed her an owl treat. Ron stroked her feathers, before he tied the letter to her foot, and she flew.
"Scram!" Richard said as he came in, "Mum's—about to come up—"
Ron activated the Portkey, returned to the bedroom. Foot into a sock, Ron dressed, into his usual red Gryffindor T–shirt, this time, the Weasley jumper, blue jeans, and hat. He left the bedroom, went down the steps.
"I don't mean to be harsh," Professor Lupin said, "I'm as concerned—"
"Bye," Ron said as he grabbed the doorknob.
"Nearly that time of the month," Professor Lupin said, "Later."
Ron left the house.
A quick walk to the Leaky Cauldron, where he rented a dozen owls.
"Weasley!" came the holler.
Ron turned to see Seamus Finnigan.
"Where's Potter hiding Justin?" Finnigan said.
Ron, though partly relieved it wasn't another demand for Harry, still unnerved.
"Ask Justin," Ron snapped.
"I'd love to," Finnigan said, "If you had anything to do—"
"Nope," Ron said, "Later."
Ron left the Leaky Cauldron, entered Diagon Alley. He glanced at the sign in the window of the Apothecary.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
"STOP MUDBLOOD POTION BREWING!"
Another sign was at the stationary shop.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
"SNAP POTTER'S WAND!"
Ron, though, decided he needed to up his game with Hermione. He ignored a large red circle around a poster his face on the window, and entered Flourish and Blott's. Ron grabbed the copy of Witch Weekly with the same picture of his face that was posted to the window, and flipped to the article.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Who is Ronnie Weasley?
Ronnie Weasley, second–to–youngest son born to the Arthur and the late Molly Weasley…
Ron put it back, figured he didn't need to read up on himself. Instead, he went up the steps, hunted through the stacks. Came to it, put his fingers on Advanced Tracking, and brought it down to the clerk. Ron noticed the clerk kept her eyes down, otherwise ignored him, as he paid. Ron took the book out of the shop, receipt in it.
"Yeah," Ron thought, best to avoid contact.
"A pickle we're in," the hat whispered.
A pang of hunger, Ron went over to Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, picked up a banana split and left the change on the counter. Ron sat at a table outside, warm despite the snow, began to read.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Track like a professional.
A shadow came over him, Ron caught the black hair, the bottle green eyes, muggle overshirt. Ron focused on those pupils, the ones that hid thoughts of pink hair.
"Tonks!" Ron snapped.
"How'd you figure it out?" she asked as she sat down, still disguised as Harry.
"Like I'd tell you," Ron said, "Besides, if you got it right—how would I tell the real one apart?"
"Do you think it'd fool everyone else?" she asked.
"Yes," Ron said, "Most definitely—anybody who doesn't know the real Harry, that is."
Ron glanced up, caught the fact that people moved away from the parlor, the traffic into the shop had dried up.
"We should go," Professor Tonks whispered.
"Agreed," Ron said as he grabbed the book, stood.
"Trying to find Hermione?" She asked as they left, went into the Leaky Cauldron, "Sometimes girls don't want to be found—doesn't mean they're lost to you."
"THERE!" Finnigan demanded.
Professor Tonks ran, along with Ron, out onto Charing Cross Road. She disapparated, Ron hid inside the next store as Finnigan ran past. Ron double backed, headed for Blackfoot Yard.
"Only lost until found," Ron said as he entered the bedroom.
Ron sat on the bed, placed the book between his legs and read, hoping Hermione would think of him.
Hermione reached into the duffel bag.
"Whatchya trying to find?" Mark asked as he stood at the door.
"Doesn't matter to you," Hermione replied, "It's my…medication."
"You're on the pill?" Mark asked, "True they make you horny?"
"Belt it," Hermione snapped. She didn't want to advertise it.
Mark picked his nose as she dug in.
"What's that?" Mark asked, pointed.
White paper wrapped around a thin chain. Hermione lifted it, opened it, a silver locket inside a letter.
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Hermione,
Not sure if you wanted to cast this away, figured it might help you sort things out with Ron, when you get a chance.
Love, Mum.
Hermione wept, Mark left.
"She's crying," Mark's voice said in the other room.
Aunt Cindy came in.
"Sorry, a note left by Mum," Hermione said.
"Tears are fine," Aunt Cindy said, "I try to keep a strong face, but Uncle Jarod knows my tears on his shoulder."
Hermione sat on the edge of the bottom bunk. She put her face into her hands, realized she had left her Mum in a row, her mean last words to them she could no longer take back.
"Tell you what," Aunt Cindy said, "I'm about to take Trenise to see Father Christmas, care to come along? See if that boy wants to?"
"Yeah, sounds fine," Hermione said.
Aunt Cindy left. Hermione opened the locket, Ron's smiling face beamed out from it. She found herself mellowed a bit, she still wanted to know Ron, but she now had JJ, hopefully Ron would understand.
"Ready?" Aunt Cindy asked.
"In a minute," Hermione said.
Hermione grabbed her pink jumper, the wand tucked within, and went down the stairs.
"I'll get JJ," Hermione said.
Hermione went outside, walked the several houses, and knocked. A lady she didn't recognize, opened the door, one with curls in her blond hair, and sweatpants.
"May I help you?" the lady asked.
"Is JJ available?" Hermione asked.
"Oh…you're his new—" the lady started.
"Friend," Hermione said.
"I'll let him know you stopped by," the lady said.
"I'll be out for several hours," Hermione said, "This evening, perhaps?"
"Take care," the lady said.
Hermione spun, went to the car with Aunt Cindy, and Trenise on crutches. Hermione took the back left seat and got in.
"Where we going?" Trenise asked from the front seat.
"A surprise," Aunt Cindy said.
"Shopping?" Trenise asked.
"A surprise," Aunt Cindy said.
"Was I like this?" Hermione asked.
"Stories your Mum would tell," Aunt Cindy said, "Worse, I suspect."
A short trip, to the mall, where Aunt Cindy parked in the disabled parking, and they got out. Trenise hobbled on her crutches, and they went into pedestrian area between the various stores.
"Santa!" Trenise exclaimed as they came to the area, with small elf houses, and a man dressed in red with a white beard at the front.
They got into the queue, when one of the helpers began to give Trenise an exclusive tour.
"I know you parted with them on…not so favorable terms," Aunt Cindy said.
"That's an understatement," Hermione said.
"Your folks, you were their centerpiece of their life," Aunt Cindy said.
"Trophy," Hermione said.
"Not like that," Aunt Cindy said, "They wanted you happy and safe because they loved you. Linda called me up, asked to give you two a timeout, because she realized that things had gone wrong, hoped to make up for Christmas, which they were planning to come over."
"They didn't tell me that," Hermione said.
"Maybe she didn't realize how independent you've become," Aunt Cindy said, "Boarding schools force that."
"True," Hermione said.
"Didn't quite get the name, St. Mary's?" Aunt Cindy said.
"Something like that," Hermione replied.
"And what would you like for Christmas?" came the question.
Took Hermione a moment to realize that she was standing next to Father Christmas. Another to come up with a response.
"I'd like things to get better," Hermione replied.
"Aw," Father Christmas said, "Don't we all? Anything else?"
"Boyfriend that doesn't suck," Hermione said, "Or…got time?"
"Something simple?" Aunt Cindy asked.
"Not stuff that you can simply buy at a store," Hermione said, "Thanks for trying."
"Merry Christmas!" Father Christmas said.
Hermione went with Aunt Cindy, while Trenise was at the counter selecting her picture options. Aunt Cindy handed over a credit card.
"Lets go home," Aunt Cindy said as they headed back for the car.
"Home…" Hermione muttered.
"Sorry, force of habit, " Aunt Cindy said, "Though, you're welcome to consider it your home until you feel otherwise."
"I know what's been my home for the last few years," Hermione said, "No longer feels like home." She thought about Hogwarts, the changes that have occurred.
"Linda said something about your school being dangerous?" Aunt Cindy said as they got back into the car.
"It…" Hermione stopped herself, realized that it'd seem inherently dangerous to anybody non–magical, especially with how she befriended Harry and Ron, over a mountain troll in the girls lavatory, and Ron mastering the levitation charm to save her and Harry. "Is life safe? Mum and Dad were murdered in their own home, can't say that was a safe place, even if I had hidden underneath my bed, I'd be dead too."
They returned to the house. Hermione went up to the bedroom, sat at the small table, brought her quill to her diary. Hermione wondered about Harry and Ron, if they were getting along without her.
Hoot! Hoot!
Ron woke Sunday morning to the flapping of fourteen owls in the bedroom. Each one, including Hedwig and Pig, dropped envelopes onto him. Each an undelivered copy of the letter he had sent Hermione.
"Guess it doesn't matter the number," Ron muttered.
Ron put his quill to his journal.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Fourteen owls sent, fourteen returned. Guess Hermione's really pissed to keep refusing—I'm SORRY! Maybe if Dumbledore could persuade her—might be willing to cave. But, Harry NEEDS his holiday, I don't care how urgent the request. If Dumbledore can't figure it out, I doubt the Death Eaters will—he's normally one step ahead of them. Though with everybody now demanding our expulsion and being at odds, surprised I've not been let go, though we'd likely drown if that happened.
Ron put the journal into his trunk. He dressed and went out of the bedroom and down the steps. Rear fell as the stairs transformed themselves into a slide, and he slid down to the bottom.
"Hey," Fred said, dressed in green near the front door, eyes at Ginny in the kitchen, "It's extra busy and we could use the help—"
"I wouldn't, if I were you," Ginny advised, "I think they're planning—"
"We're disappointed," George said, dressed in red next to Fred, "Why would you think—"
"Because it's YOU!" Ginny exclaimed.
"That's low—" Fred said as his eyes fixed as Ron stood, "Anyways, where's Harry?"
"Shove—" Ron started as he took a couple of steps toward the kitchen when he spotted the movement.
From the corners, from the restored stairs, from the kitchen, and dropping from the ceiling, a horde of oversized spiders came toward him. Ron backed himself toward the fireplace.
"We repeat," George said, "Where's—"
"STOP THIS!" Ron shouted as the large spiders bore their open mouths toward him.
"Only when we get what we want," Fred said.
A spider chomped down the Daily Prophet. Another started on an armchair. Encroached with a mere inches, Ron grabbed a handful of powder, and stepped into the fireplace.
"Leaky Cauldron!" Ron exclaimed.
Green flame devoured him, sent him spinning, and he stepped out into the Leaky Cauldron. Ron crossed and went out the muggle side, into the cold morning, his breath billowed out.
"Of all the bloody—grr!" Ron exclaimed.
Ron avoided Blackfoot Yard, instead, kept walking along Charing Cross Road, aiming for the one place his brothers most definitely would avoid. Honks and noise from the motorcars drowned out a lot of extra thought.
Ron knew who's pulling the twins' strings, of course, the same bumbling fool who didn't really understand Harry, nor the need to let Harry do his thing. Ron didn't want to tell the old man anything, he hadn't even confided in Hermione, though her parents would've had a hint based on his questions.
A right onto Euston Road, Ron made his way to Islington, and climbed up the stairs of the apartment building. He knocked on the door to flat 203. Eyes through the peephole, before the door unlocked.
"Ron!" Percy scolded as the door opened.
"Fred—George—they're being themselves again," Ron said, "Didn't have anywhere else to go, mind?"
"Sofa's your bed if you stay," Percy said, "Don't loiter—somebody might see us."
Ron entered the flat, Percy closed the door.
"You aren't exactly being held in high regard in the Daily Prophet," Percy said, "They've gone so far—I doubt your misuse of magic citations will matter."
"Surprised I didn't get one using the fireplace," Ron said.
"You came by foot," Percy said, "Anyways, think they're resolved for you. But, I advise you to avoid any Auror complaining about their coffee fund."
Ron snorted.
"Need to get ready for work," Percy said
"It's SUNDAY!" Ron said.
"Lowest number of people in the office," Percy said, "Best time to nail them with an audit. Should've seen the bloke last Sunday when I went into broom regulation."
"Fred and George—asking about Harry," Ron said, "Again!"
"That's what—" Percy said as he leaned forward, "So, Harry's missing, too?"
"Don't start," Ron said, "Dumbledore's treating Harry like he's six, not sixteen. Harry got suspended, and you think he'd hang around waiting for Dumbledore to tell him what to do?"
Percy snorted.
"No, Harry complied with the terms of his suspension," Ron said, "Found himself a nice holiday, guess that's more upsetting to the old man than anything, because Harry's not suffering enough. Of course, Fred and George couldn't be bothered to realize that Dumbledore's trying to make a terrible mistake, like they all idolize the old man."
"Now you understand me?" Percy said, "I'd hear nothing else if I had stayed at home with Mum and Dad."
"Yeah," Ron said, "I'm Weasley through and through, but to rat Harry out to Dumbledore is to betray Harry, that I won't do. Rich and famous ain't what it's cracked up to be."
"Could always give it go," Percy said.
"Sure, betray Harry, get him killed," Ron said, "I'd definitely be infamous then, and Mum would never forgive me."
"She's dead," Percy said.
"I know," Ron said, "Guess she means more to me know she's gone."
"Well," Percy said, "Unless you intend to follow me to work, talk to you later."
Percy grabbed his briefcase, disapparated. Ron grabbed The Daily Prophet and leaned back as he sat on the sofa, kicked his feet up onto the coffee table, and began to read it.
"Trouble, Weasley?" the hat asked.
"Always," Ron said, "Rule of Harry's life, and his friends."
Ron wondered about Hermione.
A bit earlier, Hermione woke to her name being called.
"Hermione! Hermione!"
Hermione's eyes peered through the cracks, at Trenise clinging to the ladder, her cast off to the side, one hand poked.
"Gonna be late!" Trenise said as she jumped back down. On her crutches, she left the bedroom.
"Late for—?" Hermione started as she pulled off her duvet.
"Hey," said JJ as he entered.
"I—" Hermione started as she moved back.
"Oh," JJ said, his eyes roved as they stared at her. "Sorry."
"I'm—!" Hermione protested.
"Look beautiful and—" JJ said, "Help you down?"
Hermione turned, climbed off, felt his hands secure her hips.
"Sorry, helping a lady out," JJ said.
"You—way, way—" Hermione started.
"Would it help if I get starkers?" JJ asked.
"No, excuse me, gotta shower first," Hermione said as she grabbed a change of clothes including her pink jumper.
JJ followed her downstairs.
"Aw, your boyfriend," Aunt Cindy said in the kitchen.
"I've already showered or I'd join you," JJ said, "Um…wanna come to church with me?"
Hermione went into the bathroom, showered, and dressed. She came back out, to JJ in the living room..
"Hermione and her boyfriend," Mark said, hunched over the computer, "Kissing in a tree—"
"Belt it," Hermione said.
JJ pulled his jumper closed before he held the door open, and they went out into the cold of Cardiff.
"Freezing it off?" Hermione asked as they walked.
They turned, entered the Holy Chariot Episcopalian Church. A man in white with a sash of red and green shook their hands.
"Welcome," the man said, "Brought a friend?"
"Yes," JJ said.
Hermione shook the hand of the man with a full beard. JJ brought her into the sanctuary, with its vaulted roof.
"After your folks," JJ said, "Thought maybe…"
They sat at the end of the pew, him to her right, the aisle to the left.
"Dunno," JJ continued, "Peace? Sorry, didn't ask."
"Think it would've been next on my parents' list of antics," Hermione said, "They cared for me, of course, but became rather thick…toward the end. We didn't see eye to eye about what was best for me."
"Aw," JJ said.
Hermione she caught his eyes darting.
"What?" Hermione asked.
"Nothing," JJ said.
Hermione ignored the service, simply kept her eyes on him.
…
A two hour service, Hermione thought to herself as they finally stood up.
"That was—" JJ started as they left.
"Boring," Hermione said, "I mean, I don't believe."
"I do," JJ said, "Seems important."
"I've talked to ghosts," Hermione said, "They've never mentioned that."
"You're pulling my leg," JJ said.
"Really," Hermione said as she thought about Moaning Myrtle, "One complained about the boys picking on her before she died, quite talkative."
"Talking ghosts?" JJ asked as they walked.
JJ pointed, they entered a buffet cafe.
"On me," JJ said as he paid.
Hermione grabbed a plate, set it on a tray, and began to load it up with some leafy green. He went for the meatballs and buttered pasta.
"Ta," Hermione said as they sat down, him to her right, in front of the street window.
"Speaking…" JJ said, pasta on his fork, "Been meaning to tell you, taken on a job."
"You have?" Hermione asked as a Corgi dog ran by.
"Part time, retail," JJ said, "You know, help pay for these…you call them dates."
"I can—" Hermione started.
"I'm the man of the relationship," JJ said, "My responsibility."
"Where?" Hermione asked.
"They'd like me not to say anything," JJ said, "Have too many issues with shrinkage."
"I'm…" Hermione started before she realized it was useless.
"Love being with you," JJ said, "But, gotta start earning my keep."
"How have you been paying?" Hermione asked.
"Saved up allowance can't keep paying for it all," JJ said, "Can it?"
"Suppose not," Hermione said, "Better than…" She didn't want to fault Ron for not having a job while in school, but he didn't.
"No," Hermione said.
They ate.
"Ready?" JJ asked.
They got up, left, and went back onto the road lined with shops; made it back to the house.
"Dunno how to put this," JJ said as he took a step forward, turned around, faced her with his shirt tucked. "I want push this further, you know…" He fingers rested on his crotch. "Isn't this, well, obvious enough for a smart chick like you?"
"Ron…" Hermione said, "I let him in too, got burned."
"He sucked?" JJ asked.
"Sex was…okay," Hermione said, "But I want to judge you as a person, first."
"Not much time to this holiday, is there?" JJ asked.
"I do plan…" Hermione's left reached, held JJ's hand. "I don't plan to remain cold, but there's only so fast I can move, alright?"
"I…I guess," JJ said.
"Flirting, teasing, that's fine and fun," Hermione said, "To go further, and I gotta be ready to take that step. It's not today, please be patient with me."
"Suppose I'll have to live with that," JJ said.
"There's more to me than meets the eye," Hermione said, "You're assured of that."
Hermione leaned in, puckered up, and kissed him on the lips. She caught the grin on his face.
"Better?" Hermione asked.
"A bit," JJ said, "Tomorrow's the first day."
"Right before Christmas?" Hermione asked.
"Busy, busy, busy," JJ said, "Who am I to say NO to bonus holiday pay?"
Hermione snorted.
"Next time, you only need to wear that jumper," JJ said, "Don't want you to freeze—"
"You!" Hermione snapped.
"Alright, alright," JJ said, "Knickers too?"
"Later, Pinocchio," Hermione said.
Hermione turned, went for the house.
Monday morning, Ron woke to the sound of the tea kettle whistling. Ron shivered as he turned on the sofa.
"Can't you do something about the heat?" Ron asked.
"Heat costs money," Percy stated.
Ron stood and went into the small nook of a kitchen. He glanced at his brother.
"They paying you?" Ron asked, "Sounding like you're broke."
"Every pound, every Sickle, it all counts," Percy said as he toasted the english muffin, "Don't intend to be caught off–guard again."
"Don't be a tightwad either," Ron said, "Don't lose sight of what's important."
Percy ate his muffin, drank the tea.
"Nothing more?" Ron asked.
"And pay through the nose?" Percy asked, "It'll tide me over to work."
"What's at work?" Ron asked.
"Aurors thinking they can bribe favors," Percy said, "We'll take the sausage and still grill them."
Percy went for his bedroom.
"Anything else?" Ron asked.
"Not giving you the password to the larder!" Percy shouted.
"Have you considered setting up a toll booth?" Ron asked as he went back to the sofa.
"Be back later," Percy said as he returned to the living room, dressed in his usual pin striped suit, "Suggest you try to make up with Fred and George."
"Blimey!" Ron exclaimed.
Percy disapparated as wings of a brown owl fluttered in. A letter dropped to the sofa, onto Ron.
"Guessing…" Ron muttered as he opened it, to reveal a letter and another, smaller, envelope.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Ron,
Would you please forward this onto Harry? We have also extended an invitation for him to join, but we need his reply in the utmost of urgency.
Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
Ron arched his eyebrows as he brought his wand over the envelope.
"Somehow…" Ron said, as the smaller envelope glowed green. "Tracking charm, if I"m not mistaken."
"Observant," the hat said from it's spot on the coffee table.
Ron banished the letter and envelope to the fireplace, where it ignited. He grabbed the Advanced Tracking from his book bag, it opened to the chapter, "Got Their Wand?"
"Not you too!" Ron muttered.
"A wand can be used to find its owner," the hat said.
Ron realized he did have the key, Harry's wand tucked away in the holster next to his own.
"I want Hermione," Ron said as he stood, "I want to find her and apologize."
Ron leafed through the pages, came to Locator Charms, hoped these would work to find her.
Hermione crawled out of bed, the winter sun had already filled the room, and jumped to the floor. She stood, went down the steps.
"Morning," Mark said, his back bent on the chair.
"Where—?" Hermione started.
"Trenise has an appointment," Mark said as he pounded the keyboard, moved the mouse, "Good, out of the house."
Hermione went into the kitchen, bit into a bran muffin.
"JJ left a message," Mark said, "Definitely has to work, maybe tomorrow?"
Hermione sighed, glanced at the children's books on the bookshelf, nothing on magic. She wished she had her bookbag, burned along with her trunk. An owl, something, would be useful, to write to somebody like Ginny…no, maybe Professor McGonagall knew the closest fireplace she could use to get to Diagon Alley, pick up replacements.
"Movies?" Mark asked, pointed to a collection of video tapes, "Mum said to be—"
"Doing fine," Hermione said as she grabbed her pink jumper, "I'll be out."
Hermione went for the door and slipped her feet into her shoes. She shivered as she walked outside. She bunched up her jumper, cast a warming charm, walked along.
"Happy Christmas," said a postal carrier as he walked by.
Honk!
A red mustang revved its engine as it cut off a yellow sedan. Hermione crossed with the light at the zebra crossing. She came to the glass of the central library, where the sign was posted.
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Closed for Christmas Week, will reopen December 30th.
Hermione walked along, came to a bookstore, entered. Bit crowded, she approached the counter.
"Have any good books on dealing with stupid boys?" Hermione asked her.
"Boyfriend?" the clerk replied.
"Ex," Hermione said, "Still, seem to attract them."
"Try the psychiatry section," the clerk said, "Or relationships."
Hermione moved through the crowd, and went for the sections. She picked through them, all seemed to lay a guilt trip, when it was Ron who sparked it. She sighed, wondered about him a bit, figured he was getting along fine without her. Instead, she found herself sitting on a small chair in the children's section.
Hermione left a few minutes later.
"JJ's the future," Hermione muttered to herself, "Ron's the past."
Hermione sat at the desk late Tuesday morning. She brought the quill to the diary.
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JJ took me out again. After the lingerie and adult shop, I knew his mind was in the gutter, before we visited the florist, but I still accepted his proposal for a movie and popcorn at his place—his bedroom. I should've seen it coming, think I did but chose to ignore the warning his todger made clear. JJ now knows my temper when I've been crossed. Was too busy to consider a Memory Charm, maybe this'll teach him.
JJ's handsome, that does not give him the right to use my body without my consent.
My consent—that's something Ron took great pains to ensure he had before doing anything. Ron always double or triple checked, and it was genuine concern, not under threat of Harry or something. Ron's not perfect, but he did try his best to look out for me, rescuing as needed. His ring might've been useful after all—but to put it back on, that'd mean accepting what he did and refuses to make up for.
Hermione grabbed the locket from the duffel bag, slid the ring over the chain, held it up, open. Ron's immature face beamed back from it.
Knock
A small ball bounced off the window. She stood, glanced outside. JJ stood on the sidewalk below his bluish green eyes focused back up.
"I'm SORRY!" JJ yelled up.
Hermione grabbed her wand from her jumper, aimed it, and issued that charm she had mastered years earlier. JJ sailed backward across the street, slammed against the fence of the small garden, slid to squat on that sidewalk.
"HERMIONE!" JJ yelled.
Hermione shook her head. She watched as JJ walked back up the street in the cold winter day. Hermione turned back to the locket, wondered about Ron and Harry.
"Find me Hermione," Ron said to his wand as he walked along the Noigate Commons, it refused to budge. Ice lined the cracks in the pavement. "Point me, Hermione."
Ron caught a glimpse of black, stowed his wand fast, went into Noigate Central station. His eyes caught it, the shimmer of the lost and found, went through it into a small room with a platform of gold. He dropped in a Knut, grabbed the Floo Powder, and exclaimed, "Sibley Cakes!"
Ron spun, heard the voice.
"Sorry," the voice said, "That fireplace is unavailable at the moment. Please state your destination."
"Weasley Wizarding Wheezes?" Ron asked.
Ron crouched as he landed, ducked fast behind a display, the open halves of his plaid overshirt hung to either side of his knees.
"Where—?" Fred, dressed in green, started as he came over, "Missing guest!"
"Any blood?" George replied, in red, both with Santa hats on their heads.
Ron waited until they returned to their stocking, until he made for the front door. Ron went along the crowd, caught a glare or three, at him with the hat on his head, his Gryffindor T–shirt beneath the plaid, one with a Hogwarts pin on its collar.
"There he is!" came the shout.
Ron made it to Sibley's Cakes, the door closed, with a return time of—
"Thirty minutes?" Ron said, "Closed on the day before Christmas?"
Ron knocked. A tall witch peered through the door.
"Go AWAY!" the witch yelled.
"Where's—" Ron started.
"Not HERE, GO AWAY!" the witch yelled, as she threw a tomato, a tomato that went through the door.
Ron ducked, the tomato hit a young girl behind him. Ron's wand came out.
"Snap it!" An elderly wizard yelled.
"I just wanted a—" Ron started, before he spotted the glare, the eyes. He didn't need Legilmency or the sorting hat on his head to figure out their state of mind, wands drawn in their hands.
"Beat it," the elderly wizard said, "Your kind's not wanted here."
A witch started for Ron.
"Give him the choice," the wizard said, "Leave by blood or in peace."
Ron stowed his wand, went for the Leaky Cauldron.
"Where's Potter?" Macmillan demanded as Ron entered.
"Scram!" Tom barked from behind the bar, "We invoke the right to refuse service!"
Ron left for Muggle London, walked along Charing Cross Road. Realized he'd need a disguise for another one of those delicious chocolate chip confectioneries. Ron returned to Percy's apartment, though he was curious if Harry was truly enjoying his holiday, if provoking Dumbledore's ire was truly worth it.