In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 86: Hand, Life, Valentine
Ringing still in his ears, the metallic smell of the smoke in the air, the weather that threatened to blow Harry away. Harry reached down, felt the pulses on Neville's and Ron's necks. He ran over to Dean Thomas, the blood flowed fast from that stump of an arm. Harry'd done it before, decided to chance it, held Dean's right hand, and closed his eyes.
An emergency need, the nurse, the hospital wing, the place that'd always been a refuge, and the longing to be there.
"Mr. Potter!" exclaimed Madam Pomfrey as she turned around in her office, "My…"
Madam Pomfrey's wand was out before Harry stood back up. Harry pulled out his Portkey, activated it.
"Wait!" Madam Pomfrey said.
Harry stumbled as he landed, the view to the floor below, and the drop–off cliff of the broken tower to the grounds below. Harry reached, held both Ron's and Neville's hands, again closed his eyes, a repeat.
"My goodness!" exclaimed Professor McGonagall, nearby in the Hospital Wing.
Robes of white appeared in the fireplace, and Harry felt the blast from Professor McGonagall's wand. Pushed out of the office, to a bed with privacy screens, Ron sailed beneath them.
"My apologies Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said, "Mediwitches of St. Mungo's would boycott our needs."
Together, Harry and Professor McGonagall lifted Ron onto the bed.
"A bomb as best I could figure," Harry said, "Dean reached into his trunk and it went off. Brought them both here."
Harry worked a bit at his ears, the ringing still present.
"Everybody felt it," Professor McGonagall said, as Madam Pomfrey entered between the screens, "Mind?"
Harry nodded as Professor McGonagall worked her wand on his head.
"Not sure who has it worse," said Madam Pomfrey.
"Healing wasn't my best subject," Professor McGonagall said.
Harry snorted.
"I can definitely pick up wit," Professor McGonagall said.
"Mr. Thomas is now at St. Mungo's," Madam Pomfrey said, "He'll most likely survive, did anybody salvage his hand?"
"Half of the dormitory is gone," Harry said.
"Rules are clear Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said, "As soon as Mr. Weasley's fit, report to the Headmaster, understood?"
Harry nodded.
"Thank you," Professor McGonagall said to Harry.
Professor McGonagall left. Harry moved, conjured up a chair, and sat, watched Madam Pomfrey tend to Ron.
"I appreciate the urgency," Madam Pomfrey said, "Shouldn't be jumping with the injured down to the Hospital Wing."
"He'll make it?" Harry asked.
"Bump to the head," Madam Pomfrey said, "It'll be a few minutes, maybe an hour."
A slow tap to the cane, Professor Dumbledore entered between the privacy screens.
"And here you were having a lovely day," said the Headmaster as he conjured up an arm chair.
"Albus!" Madam Pomfrey said, "You know the cost of magic!"
Madam Pomfrey left the privacy screens.
"Cost?" Harry asked the Headmaster.
"The poison," Professor Dumbledore said, "It reacts to my magic, every charm, every potion, every use, slowly kills me."
"Oh," Harry said, now understanding the seriousness of this.
"Every thing, every living creature, has a time and a place," Professor Dumbledore said, "All it's done is made me focus on the time I have left, to set my affairs in order, and to give you the best chance possible."
"Um…" Harry muttered.
"I witnessed it today," Professor Dumbledore said, "When Filius refused to teach, you stepped up, interesting lesson, insightful."
"I didn't mean…" Harry started.
"Unfortunately somebody disagreed with it," Professor Dumbledore said.
Harry watched the breaths of Ron.
"Mr. Longbottom's going to survive too," Professor Dumbledore said, "I'll chat with him once he wakes."
"Ta," Harry said.
"As to you," Professor Dumbledore said, "You know the mandate."
"Yep," Harry said, "Suspended."
"Take Mr. Weasley," the Headmaster said, "Hopefully we have better luck on Monday."
Harry hoped so.
"Also, convenient," Professor Dumbledore said, "Gives you the full Valentine's day off. Made plans?"
Harry shook his head. Professor Dumbledore stood.
"Give my regards and condolences to Miss. Granger too," the Headmaster said, "Funerals are lousy any day of the week."
"She's…managing," Harry said.
"If you'll excuse me," the Headmaster said, "Remember, he wakes, don't bother with the door."
A slow tap of the cane.
"Understood," Harry said, "Um… one thing."
Professor Dumbledore stopped.
"Dormitory's now a bad spot to return to," Harry said.
"I'll consider the options," Professor Dumbledore said, "Your next return may be a bit rough, or be the same, it depends."
Professor Dumbledore left. Harry sat there, watched Ron for minutes.
"Harry?" came Neville's voice.
Neville, with a bandage on his head, entered.
"Hi," Harry said.
"What happened?" Neville said, "One minute, eating up there—"
"Up there's mostly gone," Harry said.
"It is?" Neville asked.
"Nobody died," Harry said, "That's the important bit, I suppose."
"You're—?" Neville asked.
"Suspended," Harry said, "Not supposed to be talking to me."
"Oh," Neville said, "Silly bump on my head, I'm talking to the wall."
Harry snickered.
"See you," Neville said.
Harry waved, watched as Neville left. Madam Pomfrey entered at the same time Professor Snape did.
"Was told you were here," Professor Snape said as he dropped two book bags covered in leaves and sticks, "Littering your favorite tree?"
"Talk to your friends," Harry said, "Find out who did this."
"Learn to conjure up a mirror," Professor Snape said. Black robes billowed as he left.
"Did he say our books made it to the Whomping Willow?" Ron asked.
Harry smiled, the sight of that red hair, the blue eyes on the freckled face.
"Is he fit for travel?" Harry asked Madam Pomfrey.
"Fit, like you take my advice," Madam Pomfrey said, "Like Headmaster like student."
Madam Pomfrey left. Harry went, grabbed the book–bags, and took out his Portkey.
"Take it we're leaving?" Ron asked as he stood up, the blackened sleeves to his dress shirt.
"Um…" Harry grabbed Ron's hand, thought about it as he closed his eyes. Serious thought, lots of effort to make Astronomy seem sexy, and the wind blew across him.
"Here?" Ron asked, "That's…?"
Harry stood at the edge of the tower. Across the open air, they spotted it slightly below. Gryffindor tower, with it's pinnacle over the common room, the two smaller fingers of their dormitories, the one on the right had its top torn off, the few bits of overturned furniture tumbled over the edge.
"Ready?" Harry asked Ron.
"Yeah," Ron said.
Harry activated the Portkey, Ron held on, and they were pulled along, left Hogwarts. They landed in Gia's bedroom.
"Hermione?" Harry asked as he stashed his Portkey.
Hoot!
An owl dropped a letter to Harry.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Harry James Potter,
Minister saw fit to make it a one week suspension, return next Friday.
Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
"We train up on apparation?" Ron asked.
"Yeah," Harry said, "That'll be the goal, cause you need to be able to."
Ron grinned, reached to hold onto Harry, however a blue express owl showed, dropped a letter, which opened for him.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Potter
YOU SUCK!
To think after your pathetic sob story, you hit Dean with this! I'll be his true friend when he wakes and has to shop for a new prosthetic. We're all going to skip that analysis, you… You thought your life was bad now? Just you wait.
Seamus Finnigan
"Focus on Hermione," Ron said.
Harry threw the letter aside, took a moment to clear his mind. He focused on Hermione, his cherished friend, and drummed up his desire to be with her.
Salty air, the sound of wings above, the screech of birds above. Harry spotted them, sitting on the grass, both her and Mark faced the water, container of fried chips in her hand, and Hermione threw another up into the air. A white with gray bird swooped down, caught it in its beak. Colors odd to Harry.
"In disillusion," Harry said, pointed, "Have fun."
"Yeah," Ron said, "Later."
Harry thought of Gia, disapparated.
…
Ron walked over to Mark and Hermione sitting there. Mark grabbed the strip of fried potato, threw it up in the air. Another seagull swooped in, gulped at it.
"Ron," Hermione said.
"Dormitory's gone," Ron said.
"What?!" Hermione asked.
Ron sat down next to her, a bit of sun to his skin, the faint light clouds above.
"Something was planted in Dean Thomas' trunk," Ron said, "It went. Dean Thomas lost his arm too."
Ron continued to explain.
"Yet I'm suspended," Hermione said, "Haven't been there since last week!"
"Not fair," Ron said, his hand held her knee.
"That's…what's going on?" Mark asked, "Anything with what killed my family?"
"It's all fucked up," Ron admitted.
Ron reached, grabbed two strips of potato, ate one, threw the other. Wings of white spread, the bird swooped down and caught it in the beak, ate it.
"He found us pretty easily," Mark said.
Ron caught the concern, also from Hermione's similarly brown eyes.
"We're not that obvious," Hermione said, "I tried…"
"Harry," Ron said.
"Oh," Hermione said.
"He's your friend, right?" Mark asked.
"Which is why you're a target," Hermione said, "Guilt by association to the ones after him."
"She and me," Ron said, "We stood with Harry—understandable. You…yeah, they'd have to condemn everybody."
"How's this even safe?" Mark asked, as he threw a fry up into the air.
"It isn't," Hermione stated.
Ron caught it, the glimpse of a canary yellow jumper not too far away. His wand out into his hand.
"Inlusio!" Ron said to himself, aimed it at Mark and repeated, "Inlusio!"
Hermione uttered the same curse to herself. Ron held her hand as they stood; they walked. A few hundred feet, on the grass, and they went around a large fountain.
"Paris?" Ron asked.
"Yes," Mark said.
"Hermione—got it?" Ron asked.
"Oh," Hermione said as she pulled out the portkey.
Ron took it, thought as he activated it. Mark and her held on. They landed in Gia's bedroom.
"This isn't—" Hermione started.
"We could've been overheard," Ron said, "Figured lying was best."
"Guess it's studying," Ron said, "Um…where's Harry's book–bag?"
Big and black, Snuffles entered.
"Downstairs," Hermione said to Mark.
Hands on Mark's back, she pushed and he left the bedroom. Hermione shut the door, and Snuffles transformed.
"Harry made it clear he'll be back Monday," Sirius said, "How can I reason with him of how dangerous it is go out alone?"
"Not alone," Hermione said.
"With Gia, of course," Sirius said, "Trouble happens even half a world away, if he's right about that."
"Can't go anywhere without at least one sighting of that yellow," Ron said, "Likely best."
Hermione glared at Ron.
"Patients have a knack to finding the right treatment," Ron said, "Embrace it."
Ron leaned over, kissed her. He grabbed his book–bag, went for the door.
"Do I have to study alone?" Ron asked.
Hermione followed him out, down the steps. Mark already laying on the sofa. Ron went into the dining room, the study still blocked off, and sat down at the table. Parchment out.
"He's got that Apparation book," Ron said.
"You're not joking about learning that?" Hermione asked.
"He's apparating," Ron said, "Made finding you easy, hold on to him. Still—see the threat? I need to be able to apparate, and so do you."
"Mind explaining?" asked the Keeper to the Seeker.
"Should've heard Potter," the Seeker said, "Cracks were forming, so if we did nothing, the sheep would stray, and chief Faatus goes bye bye."
"Prototype worked," the Chaser said.
"At least we have that," the Keeper said, "About killed Potter."
"No, wasn't possible," the Seeker said, "Required Potter to start it, required that bumbling idiot to finish, thus Potter might've gotten a bruise, at most. I didn't risk him, per your plan."
Seeker caught the glare.
"We'll lose if we play it safe," Seeker said, "I had to be bold, I had to strike, to keep us in the game."
Ron woke Friday to the push to the shoulder. Woke up on Gia's bed, Richard there.
"Um…don't see Harry…wanted to run," Richard said.
"Sorry, not here," Ron replied.
"Know where?" Richard asked.
"Only came back to a note," Ron said, "Him and Gia…off for the weekend."
"Mum's wanting to run," Richard said.
"Best go and run," Ron suggested.
Richard left the bedroom. Hermione stirred. A burp, Mark sat up.
"Today," Mark muttered.
"Yeah," Hermione replied.
Ron went for the lavatory, into the shower. He returned ten minutes later, towel wrapped as Hermione dressed.
"Now?" Ron asked as he dressed.
Hermione pulled out the Portkey, activated it. Mark touched it.
"Don't forget that's mine," Ron said as he held on.
"Get me one," Hermione said as the jerk behind the naval come, "I should have one too."
"Talk to Dumbledore," Ron said.
They landed in Lupin's manor.
"There you are!" Aunt Cheryl said as she came over, she held Mark, "Found you a suit."
Hours later, Ron got out of the car in front of the Cathedral, the overcast clouds above. Hermione came out second, and she waited. Mark stepped out. Aunt Cheryl drove the car toward the car park.
"Here we go," Hermione said.
Corner of the eye, fringes of canary yellow, so Ron sped up the pace. They entered the stone building. Into the large sanctuary with its rows upon rows of pews. In the middle toward the back, a stage with three brown polished wood coffins, two big, and a smaller one.
"Got a half hour," Ron said to Hermione, "Go get some fish and chips?"
"There's a reception afterwards," Hermione said.
Mark went up to the smaller coffin, bowed his head, cried. Aunt Cheryl came in, stood behind him, hand to the shoulder, held him. Ron reached, held Hermione, as they stayed in the back corner. A glimpse of canary yellow robes in the entrance, the hand extended with a yew wand, the red slit eyes as the hood went down.
"Pardon the loose end," said Voldemort, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Green sailed straight and narrow, hit the back of Mark, and he dropped. Ron's wand out, ropes flew, at the same time as the Dark Lord disapparated.
"Refund!" Voldemort said, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Another strike of green, onto Aunt Cheryl.
"Kill the DARK WITCH GRANGER!" came the shouts of the mob of canary yellow.
More green that flew. Ron dropped Hermione to the floor, pulled out the Portkey, and activated it.
"A message to Potter and his concubines," came the voice much closer, before the jerk behind the naval.
Ron and Hermione landed in Lupin's manor. Lupin apparated in.
"What the—?" Lupin stammered.
"Voldemort," Ron said.
"Did he get…?" Hermione stammered, the tears that welled up.
"Think so," Lupin said.
Ron activated the Portkey, the jerk behind the naval, and landed in Gia's bedroom. Ron pulled Hermione onto the bed, cradled into her, and held her as tight as he could.
"I've got you," Ron said to Hermione, her tears onto him, "I've got you."
It was well past midnight before Ron watched Hermione fall to sleep, the sheets damp beneath them, though Crookshanks didn't seem to mind. Ron stood in the darkness, went over, lit the candle on Gia's desk, and left the bedroom. Bit tired, his stomach growling, he went down the steps in the darkness. A twist, across the dark living room, he entered the kitchen.
Tap! Tap!
Ron spun, his wand in his hand, the silvery hair of Dumbledore already at the dining table, and those blue eyes that twinkled. An inquiry, and Ron relaxed his hand.
"Been here for hours," said Dumbledore, "Think you were going to fix yourself something, don't stop on my account."
A flip of the switch, the fluorescent light above took a moment to spring to life. Ron grabbed the electric kettle, filled it with water, and pressed the button. He bent over, searched into the refrigerator, and grabbed a plate of left over chicken. Ron sat down, across from the old man.
"Thought…" Ron started.
"Voldemort attacked," Dumbledore said, "Keeping watch was nothing I wanted to delegate."
"Oh," Ron said.
"Not that I'm alone in keeping watch," Dumbledore said, "I wanted to know what had happened, and I'm willing to wait while you two dealt with the emotional trauma."
"Hermione lost her cousin, her aunt," Ron said, "All her blood relatives are now dead."
"You mean for now," Dumbledore said, "Your mind slips, you're considering something that may change that."
A whistle, Ron stood up, went to the kitchen, grabbed a couple tea mugs. He grabbed the peppermint tea bags, and poured the hot water over them.
"Care for a cup?" Ron asked.
"You're most gracious," Dumbledore said.
Ron turned back for the table, cups in hand.
"Thank you," Dumbledore said, as he took the hot mug.
Ron blew across his cup.
"I'm at the sunset to my life," Dumbledore said, "While I wouldn't turn down an odd fling, way too much is going on to form any serious attachments. You are clearly at the start of yours, considering it."
"I love her," Ron said, "After today…her cousin that suggested it, he's dead, right?"
"Both of their remains were recovered," Dumbledore said, "Mind sharing your side?"
Ron explained.
"He chose to spare you," Dumbledore said, "That's…interesting."
Ron sipped at the tea.
"That he chose to leverage this group," Dumbledore said, "Unwitting sheep."
"About sums that up," Ron said, "Going to have to be another service for Mark too."
"Best to not attend," Dumbledore said.
"Tell that to Hermione," Ron grumbled.
Ron finished his tea, stood, and carried the cup, the plate, into the kitchen, into the sink. Ron turned back to the door, leaned to the side.
"Thank you for sharing," Dumbledore said.
"Not all, is there?" Ron asked.
"Voldemort considered it a message to Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said, "I'm unaware…"
"I only know what Sirius told me," Ron said, "Voldemort doesn't know where Harry is either."
"That is true," Dumbledore said, a twinkle to those blue eyes.
"Knowing Harry and Gia and timezones," Ron said, "Guessing they found that secluded beach."
Dumbledore chuckled.
"Harry's at his happiest when he's starkers with her," Ron said, "He'll need those reserves, won't he?"
"It's rumored to get worse, yes," Dumbledore said, "You're heading into the eye of a nasty storm, the ride will be rough."
Ron thought it over.
"I'm worried about Hermione," Ron said, "Think Harry's doing okay, won't spoil his weekend by hunting him down, stealing away a happy weekend for him. It'll definitely help when he hears the bad news. Any good reason Voldemort spared us?"
"With Mr. Riddle," Dumbledore said, "The reason's never good, time will reveal why soon enough. Until then—"
"Thank you." Ron yawned. "I need to sleep."
"Of course," Dumbledore said, "You focused on keeping her safe, so you'd make for a good husband."
Ron knew he blushed, he turned, went for the living room. A tight left, he went up the stairs. A stop in the lavatory, he entered the bedroom. Hermione still on the bed. He laid down behind her, held her tight as the duvet went over them. Ron let the fatigue claim him into sleep.
Later that morning, Ron woke back up in Gia's bedroom, the light of the day already creeping into the bedroom. Hermione curled up against him. Ron touched her chest.
"Was wondering," Hermione whispered.
"You're important to me," Ron said.
"Ta," Hermione said.
Ron's hand massaged a bit into her stomach.
"Spent a week with him," Hermione said, "Only to lead him to slaughter, I'm the damn butcher."
"You against Voldemort?" Ron said, "I thought it'd be that stupid group…but it was him."
"Doesn't change a thing," Hermione said.
"You gave your cousin a happy few days," Ron said.
"And an unhappy ending," Hermione said, "I—we should've stayed away."
"Would that've changed a thing?" Ron said, "You'd be woken by Kristen telling you he died, instead."
"We gotta protect…" Hermione started.
"Sounding like Harry," Ron said, "Gotta support Harry to take out Voldemort, nobody else can, not even Dumbledore."
"And build up Harry to kill?" Hermione said, "That's not his thing."
"I know," Ron said, "How the hell do we smoother You–Know–Who in love?"
"Dunno," Hermione said, "Thought you'd propose that to help me."
"Don't think you need that right now," Ron said, "Sure, banging's available, but you're my friend first and foremost. Nothing else matters to me right now."
"Harry?" Hermione asked.
"Likely banging Gia," Ron said, "Even Dumbledore doesn't think Harry's in danger."
Hermione tensed for a moment.
"Visited when I needed a bit of tea," Ron said, "Even to him, you're the most important. Slept better knowing he was around."
Hermione relaxed.
"I'll go fix you something," Ron said.
"You're always hungry," Hermione said.
"Something light for you," Ron said, "I'll be back."
Ron leaned in, kissed her on the cheek, and rolled off. He stood, left the bedroom. Down the stairs, into the kitchen. Ron put the frying pan on the stove, turned the knob as it came to life, and threw on some slabs of bacon. Bread into the toaster, and he pushed the button on the electric kettle.
"Ron," came Kristen's voice as she entered, in her police sweats, "Heard something happened yesterday?"
"Attacked," Ron said, "Her cousin and aunt didn't make it."
"Oh," Kristen said, "Sorry about that. I also wanted to know what you know about Harry and Gia?"
Ron spotted her eyes, the concern.
"Only left a note," Ron said, "Guessing a nice holiday for…well yesterday, promised to be back."
"With those bounties—" Kristen started.
"The man who murdered his parents came to the cathedral," Ron said, "It was that man who murdered Mark and her Aunt—Harry's safe wherever he is."
"Did they catch that man?" Kristen asked.
"Nope," Ron said, "He's still on the loose."
Ron removed the bacon to a plate, cracked in a couple of eggs. A move to a bowl, added the instant oatmeal, poured in the hot water. Made cups of tea, placed them onto a tray.
"Seems like a nice gesture," Kristen said.
"She's…" Ron said, "Wouldn't be in love with her if she lacked a heart."
Ron flipped the eggs, buttered toast. More glasses, this time, orange juice into them. He put the eggs onto the plate.
"Good luck," Kristen said.
Ron carried the tray through the living room, up the stairs, into the bedroom. He set it down in front of Hermione, sitting cross–legged on the bed. Ron sat on the bed.
"Thanks," Hermione said as she lifted the bowl of oatmeal, began to spoon into it.
Ron worked on the bacon, chewed into it.
"Only yesterday…" Hermione said.
"I'm here," Ron said.
"Still feel alone," Hermione said.
"Send Harry a letter," Ron said.
Hoot!
"Don't spoil his weekend," Hermione said.
Hermione reached for The Daily Prophet, except Ron moved and snatched it from her.
"Sorry," Ron said as he stood.
He turned, went out onto the landing, closed the door behind him as he opened it, the picture of the ruined cathedral.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
The Daily Prophet
Saturday, 15 February 1997
Dark Family Ties
Yesterday it seems that Dark Witch Hermione Granger didn't feel the necessity to carry on with family relationships. In league with Dark Wizard Ronald Weasley, they executed her last remaining blood relatives, two muggles, and incited a riot before the scheduled service to her other three. A clean slate, we suppose, even killed the muggle priest as they trashed the historic cathedral. Ministry officials are working tirelessly to restore the beautiful building and to modify the memories of all muggle witnesses.
Ron curled the paper, returned to the bedroom, and threw the paper onto the stack.
"Don't bother with reading it," Ron said to Hermione.
Hermione stared at him. Ron shook his head.
"That bad?" Hermione asked.
Ron knelt against the side of the bed, held her hands.
"I love you," Ron said.
Ron stood, reached for a slice of toast, ate into it. A spin of Gia's desk chair, Ron sat and watched her brown eyes, the ones that focused on him.
"You're…" Hermione started.
"Thinking," Ron said, "Takes me time."
Hermione snorted.
Ron focused a bit more on her, Hermione, the girl he taunted so many years earlier, the one that's grown on him to the point their skin's fine between them. Her eyes, the ones that admire his physique, the love clear behind them. Neither wanted to imagine a future apart, though this thought still churned butterflies into his stomach.
She's lost her family, all of it, and knew he felt obligated to help her build a new one, because she needed it. Words of Mark, the suggestion, went through Ron's head. Ron stood back up.
"Um…" Ron said, "I need to… um… make sure Sirius is around, be back…not sure."
"I'll come," Hermione said.
"No, not this," Ron said, "Sorry, bit personal."
"We've banged!" Hermione said, "You've snooped in my head, how much more personal does it need to get?"
"I love you," Ron said, "Bye, be back later."
Ron went out, down the stairs, and rubbed Snuffle's belly on the sofa.
"Watch and guard Hermione," Ron said, "I'll be… back."
Ron went out the front door, under fair skies. A fast turn into the back, he pulled out his Portkey, activated it. A moment later, he landed in Percy's flat, the chilliness of no heat. Stacks of parchment on the coffee table, and no dining table.
"Percy?" Ron asked.
A move through the small flat, into the small bedroom, the bed covers torn off.
"I was in the middle of an audit," said Percy, in a pinstripe suit.
"Day after Valentine's Day, bound to ruffle a few feathers," Ron said.
"I'm not paid to be nice," Percy said.
"Have you ever thought about proposing to a girlfriend?" Ron asked.
"Are you aware of the liabilities that come with that?" Percy said, "You saw Mum and Dad…barely able to scrap by getting us second hand everything and passing it down brother to brother; having Fred and George about busted them, needing a second set of everything."
"But there's a wedding," Ron said.
"Down payment on a lifetime mortgage," Percy said, "And suppose you break up—now you gotta split the property, and any kids, not to mention child maintenance."
"Always this cheerful?" Ron asked.
"You came here to ask for advice," Percy said.
"Oh, yeah," Ron said, "Mind?"
Ron went for the fireplace, grabbed a handful of Floo Powder.
"Sending you a bill!" Percy promised.
Ron dropped the powder.
"Charlie Weasley!" Ron shouted.
A spin, a stumble into the cottage. A glare from the red head on the sofa, beneath a blanket with Adam next to him.
"Ron!" Charlie exclaimed.
"He looks handsome," Adam said.
"Have you thought about marriage?" Ron asked Charlie.
"Brothers marrying ain't legal," Adam said.
"Not that," Ron snapped.
"Big decision," Charlie said, "Not essential to being happy."
"Need to checkup on the Horntail," Adam said.
"Duty calls," Charlie said to Ron, "Do you mind?"
Ron grabbed a handful of Floo Powder, dropped it as he stepped in.
"Weasley Wizarding Wheezes!" Ron exclaimed.
Another spin, a shriek as he stepped out.
"Oh…nice," said Emily, nearby.
"Was wondering…hey, you're a girl," Ron said, "What if a wizard proposed?"
"Are you?" Emily asked, "Dating the bosses' brother might be tricky."
"Not you, sorry," Ron said, "You seem nice."
Emily blushed.
"Hey!" came Fred in his green and gold suit, "Stop scaring the customers, you're almost as bad as Harry. This way."
Ron followed Fred into the back room.
"Emily wants you to pop the question," Ron said.
A glare, a scare behind those blue eyes, the fright, and Ron laughed.
"Just kidding," Ron said, "Still, would you?"
"Bad voodoo for a boss to date their employees," Fred said.
"You want to," Ron said.
"I'm already satisfied," Fred said.
"Know any good places to ask?" Ron said, "If you were to propose?"
"Think Dad asked at the Leaky Cauldron," Fred said, "But you're not going there. Another spot and you'll want formal wear."
"It's up to her," Ron said, "But I kinda want to surprise her."
"Asking Emily?" Fred asked.
"No," Ron said, "Ta."
Ron pulled out his Portkey, activated it. A moment later, landed on the bed.
"What's so important?" Hermione asked, still on the bed.
"Family," Ron said, "Family and you."
Ron sat with her, on the bed.
"We can study," Ron said, "If that'd help."
Hermione shook her head. Ron laid down, pulled her in to his side. Ron mulled it over with her breath on his skin, her heat against him. Harry had done it, so Ron figured he could too, but was it the right decision. Her fingers traced him.
"Want to go out for dinner?" Ron asked.
"I…what'd you have in mind?" Hermione asked.
"Dunno," Ron said, "Fancy?"
"We'd need reservations," Hermione said, "Anybody not celebrating yesterday would have them booked today."
"Fish and chips?" Ron asked.
"Sure," Hermione said, "Not Cardiff though."
Ron stood, Hermione followed. They went out, down the steps.
"Disillusion," Ron suggested.
Ron's wand out, he cast the charm. Hermione cast it on herself. They left the house.
"It's not invisibility," Hermione said.
"Enough to shake," Ron said.
They walked along, the pub full of noise.
"Elsewhere," Ron said, "Quieter."
"Quiet fish and chips," Hermione said, "On a Saturday?"
"Wanted to talk," Ron said.
"We did that back home," Hermione said, "More than talk."
"Eat and talk," Ron said.
"Aw," Hermione said.
Ron knew she knew better, simply played with him. Another shop, far fewer, and their disillusion dropped as they entered. Ron reached into his holster, a twenty pound note, and set that down at the counter.
"Fish and chips, and a chicken strips and chips," Ron said, "And drinks."
"Water for me," Hermione said.
"One beer," Ron corrected.
After getting the change, Ron stashed that as he went for a table, the small thing. Hermione sat first, and Ron sat next to her, same side.
"Ordinarily—" Hermione started.
"Not leaving your side," Ron said, "Not today."
"You went—somewhere, earlier," Hermione said.
"A lot on my mind," Ron said, "Lets eat first."
Ron reached, held around her back, fingers on her hip, turned his.
"We banged…" Hermione started.
"If it was just that, this'd be easy," said Ron.
The clerk brought a tray over, with their order.
"Fish reminds me of…sorry, Mark," Hermione said.
"Don't be sad for remembering them," Ron said, "Don't forget them, ever."
Ron worked on his fish, the chips, handed a few over for a chicken strip, and ate that. She went a bit slower, worked a couple of the chicken strips, more of the chips, and sipped at her water. Ron sipped at his beer as he waited.
"I'd try something fancy," Ron said, "But we can't even attend a funeral without adding to the body count."
Hermione shook her head.
"Best to avoid Mark's service too," Ron said.
"I'd…I want to go," Hermione said.
"He's family, and you need family," Ron said, "Share mine with yours."
"You already do," Hermione said.
"Thinking a bit stronger," Ron said.
"Stronger?" Hermione asked, "Thinking?"
Ron turned to her, ran his fingers in her hair, over her earlobe, smelled the lingering apple fragrance in her bushy brown hair.
"Invite a copper to watch?" Hermione asked.
"I think Mark had it right," Ron said.
"Had what right?" Hermione asked, "Think you're getting a bit confused."
"He saw it for what it was," Ron said, "In his memory, got one question for you."
Hermione's brown eyes stared at him, his fingers trembled.
"Will you…will you marry me?" Ron asked her.
A moment, the disbelief behind those brown eyes.
"We fit…alright with Harry around," Ron said, "Still, I'd love for us to continue on. Want to take that step with me?"
"I…" Hermione stammered.
A flicker, a shimmer, a step out of Disillusion, Mr. Arthur Weasley was there.
"Heard…sorry if I'm late," Mr. Weasley said, "Ronald, you forgot this."
Ron took the box, opened it, a ring inside, ruby on it, seemed familiar, pulled it out. He handed it to Hermione.
"Will you marry me?" Ron asked her.
"It was Molly's wedding ring," Mr. Weasley said, "I'm sure she'd love for you to wear it."
Ron watched those brown eyes, the emotions within that flooded over her.
"We'll face Voldemort together, in battle, with Harry," Ron promised, "Avenge the evils. Walk with me after we do?"
Hermione breathed.
"Yes," Hermione said.
Ron leaned over as she put on the ring, and he kissed her.
"I love you," Ron said.
Ron woke Sunday to the fur rubbing against him, turned, felt for a moment into emptiness except for a warm depression in the mattress. Ron turned, his legs swung, got up, and went for the stairs.
"Congratulations," came Kristen's voice.
Down the steps, to where Hermione showed the ring to Kristen, Ron stood there.
"He's not perfect," Hermione said, "Still, he's the one."
"Nobody's perfect," Kristen said, "You grow to love those imperfections too."
Hermione blushed.
"Good morning," Kristen said to Ron.
Hermione turned. Ron walked to her, held her.
"Show you to the family," Ron said.
"I already know your family," Hermione said.
"Not like this," Ron said, reaching to hold her hand, felt the ring with it's ruby on her finger. Ron leaned over, kissed her.
Date: Fri Sep 22 05:16:31 2023