Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Albus Dumbledore (the late and the great!), Rubeus Hagrid, Draco Malfoy and anybody else you can think of is not my property. Not even the Half-Blood Prince is mine.
Sorry if I frustrated all of you with my late update. My computer has been away at the computer-virus-remover-fixer-scanner-cleaner-place. But now it's back with a vengeance and I'm back to writing the same old fan fiction (and lovin' it. Ba rap bap bap baaaa! Sorry that was a lame attempt to make a joke that's been milked one too many times.) To the thanks!
dancerrdw, MIDNIGHT-PIXIE, HeatherGranger13, BlinkMaster, charmedtomeetyou Thanks as per usual.
fvweasley: Yes, I know. Finally, right? I'm sorry that I've been becoming such a unstable writer lately. But thanks for all the compliments though they just make me feel guilty haha.
Lil Miss Potter: Yuppers. SO…did you like it? Every author likes to hear the feedback.
singdownthemoon: Bless you! You're an angel! LOL…thanks for not blaming me. Juliet? How did you get that nickname?
pinkythesnowman: Yes, just like cheese hehehe. I highly doubt it too. Of course I read HBP. First day like a loyal fan.
Shadow00: Wow, thanks. You get the review award for the most confusing review. I had to read a few sentences over twice. You know my story almost better than I do. Your right about everything you guessed. The Harry of the past didn't know Dumbledore was dead when he was out in the rain, he found out for the first time as future Harry. And Harry had no idea at the time that Ron was a traitor. So to the end he believed Ron was loyal to him. Hermione trusts Ron because, cliché as it sounds, she's a fool in love. But there is one more secret to Ron that hasn't been revealed and that not even he knows yet.
Note to some readers: I think many people may have clicked on this in hopes of discovering my new Hr/R story but it's not. That story isn't due out till a while. But I shall keep you posted on my profile.
My Musical Inspiration for this chapter: 'You're Beautiful' by James Blunt. 'Beverly Hills' and 'Island in the Sun' by Weezer.
'Life belongs to the living, and he who lives must be prepared for changes'-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Harry sat at the corner of a couch, uncomfortably, because his own elbow was currently being shoved into his face. He tried to speak to complain but that would only lead his elbow entering his mouth.
The reason he was sitting so very awkwardly was because the couch, while large and lumpy, wasn't meant to seat six witches and one Harry at the same time. Most of the women present were rather the younger generation among the DA (all under thirty) who had come to hear about Hermione's date with none other than Ron Weasley.
"So did he give you roses? No? Chocolates, then?" asked a very red-faced Hannah Abbot, who was practically on Harry's lap.
"No. None of that," Hermione shook her head, frowning, "I'm telling you all it wasn't a big deal."
"Nothing's ever a big deal to you," one of the youngest witches there cried, rolling her eyes.
She had bright red hair and reminded Harry of someone. The dream girl. Or Ginny as she was better known as. However, he knew for a fact that they weren't related. He'd asked Hermione and been corrected. Apparently she was from a family north of England known as the Gryffins.
"Well this really isn't. I was forced to go out on a date with him to save Draco's hind. That's all there is to it. It was all business and nothing more," Hermione reprimanded.
A disappointed silence fell among the witches who had been hoping to hear a story filled with a dangerous romance.
At that moment there was a sudden pop that signalled the arrival of Draco Malfoy into their room. He was wearing sleek black robes that made him look even taller than he was. And, from Harry's slightly suffocating view from the innards of the couch, he looked like some kind of giant. He was still having difficultly imagining him as a member of the DA after all they'd been through at Hogwarts. At least he frightened Harry no longer.
"Granger! Just the woman I was looking for," Draco exclaimed, smiling uncharacteristically.
Hermione raised an eyebrow, "Really and why's that?"
"Well to ask you, for one, what ever it was that you did to Weasley on that date," Draco smirked, doggishly, "He's been walking around in a blissful trance ever since. I mean candlelit dinner? Dancing? Kissing? I never knew you were that sort of lady, Granger."
A slight shock hit the room. Hermione's version of the date and Draco's (and apparently Ron's) version of the date was very different. If they were concerned about which tale to believe, Hermione's crimson blush confirmed it for them all.
"Just business, eh?" a pretty, mousy-haired, witch snapped.
Harry took her to be Lavender Brown. He'd been introduced to her not long ago. He had a small clue why she seemed to be talking all this date talk more personally than the other women. With remembering his Hogwarts Years came the vague memory of a short-lived but lustful fling between Ron and Lavender in their sixth year. After Hermione had stolen Ron's affections away, which were rightfully hers anyway if Harry remembered correctly, she and Lavender were never the same.
Now she stood up and stomped out of the room and Hermione looked as if she had just been slapped across the face.
"Forget her," Padma said, watching Lavender slam the door after her, "Go on about your date."
"Yes do go on," Draco agreed, grinning cheekily.
He plomped down the couch which was filled to the brim with people. His caused Harry's elbow to actually go into his mouth and Hannah Abbot fell into his lap, flushing furiously.
"Harry! Harry! Wait for me!" Hermione called, catching up with him in the hallways of the DA headquarters.
Harry had just been to visit Neville who was his usual serious self. Recently, however, Harry's company seemed to be brightening his spirits. Today he even accidentally broke a tea cup just as the old Neville from Hogwarts would've.
"Hello, Hermione," Harry greeted, smiling at his best friend.
She smiled in return and linked her arm around his as only best friends can do without sparking rumours of a romantic relationship.
"So, I was thinking. After all the drama of recent days…we really haven't been having our lessons. Which are extremely important," Hermione explained, "And where did we last leave off? The Philosopher's Stone?"
"No. I already know that one. We saved it. Chess set…Ron. Potions…you. Mirror of Erised…me," Harry answered, "In fact we were practically finished hearing about my Second Year. You were just telling me how I went down to save Ginny. How Ron got trapped behind the rocks. And I, alone, had to go on."
"Good. We made more progress than I realized. Well then, what are you doing now?" Hermione asked, looking around him as if searching for an answer.
"Nothing at all," Harry lied.
In fact he was supposed to help Padma clean out his room but we supposed that was worth skipping to find out about his past.
"Ok, into our room then," Hermione said, leading him towards the Lesson Chambers.
They strolled in. Sunlight flickering on at the window. It would've been the perfect day to play a game of Quidditch. But to do that Harry would need five other people just as DA escorts and somehow that just took all the fun out of the idea. Harry sat down at a table near the burnt family tree with Hermione across from him.
"Ok. So where were we? You carrying on alone…yes. Well, as I was saying, you had to go on alone and then you saw him. Tom Riddle. You know now that he is Voldemort but at the time you were completely oblivious," Hermione went on.
As Hermione's voice spun the memory with words, Harry could actually see it playing out in his mind's eye. He remembered rushing over to Ginny. Clutching her, hoping against all hope she was still alive. Remembered hearing Riddle's voice. He lost his wand to him. What a fool he was. It went on. It was almost painful to relieve it all. His childish mistakes that could make or break the whole situation.
"And then, after I killed the Basilisk, I was dying. I knew I was. The fang's poison was coursing through me. But I took the fang and stabbed it into the diary. And he died. Gone, just like that," Harry murmured, loud enough for Hermione to hear.
She had stopped speaking to listen to him talk about it. It was the first time she had heard him talk about that night and it was entrancing. Slowly but surely, it seemed, he didn't even need her to tell the whole story. He was remembering it faster than she could speak.
"Yes and Ginny came alive and once again you saved the Wizarding World from utter destruction," Hermione finished it off.
Harry sighed. It was not a sigh of pleasure that an average boy-who-had-saved-the-world would make. It was an extremely tired sigh of someone who was already tired of hearing how they'd saved the world.
"Tell me more about Ginny," Harry whispered, going glassy-eyed.
"Oh, Harry. Let's save that for later. We really must continue on through your Hogwarts Years," Hermione pleaded, her bottom lip quivering.
"Please. I want to hear more about her," Harry insisted.
"She was brilliant."
Both Harry and Hermione stepped out of their phase and noticed Luna standing there with a tray filled with cupcakes and butterbeer.
"Cupcakes," she suggested, holding the tray higher.
"Set them down here," Hermione gestured, towards their table.
Luna put the tray on the table and continued talking, "Ginny was my best friend, I suppose even though I wasn't hers. She was brave and strong-willed. Stubborn as a mull but dead loyal. She would defend me even when I wasn't around. And…and…she loved you so much, Harry."
It was silly he knew but suddenly Harry found his face buried in his arms because he was crying. He didn't want Luna and Hermione to seem him like his. Somehow through all the crying he felt somehow patting his back and someone else sliding a hand into his own. Though it was freezing cold, it was awfully comforting right now.
He gave a shuddering breath. Not allowing himself to cry any longer. Ginny was dead and had been for almost a decade. It was useless to cry now.
Hermione looked at him in deepest of concern. Luna was slightly more in tune with reality than usual and with one last squeeze of his hand she let go and slinked out the door.
"Harry, I-," Hermione started and faltered.
What was there to say?
"So tell me about my third year," Harry said, trying to forget Ginny for the time being.
"Well you remember most of the beginning. How there was Sirius Black, the man who had escaped from Azkaban to 'supposedly' kill you," Hermione said, waiting a little for the name Sirius Black to sink in.
"Sirius Black, my godfather? But he didn't really want to kill me, did he? Just..Worm-
"-tail. Yes. The man that betrayed your mother and father to Lord Voldemort. Do you remember?" Hermione questioned, placing a book on her lap.
"Yeah, I suppose I am. I wish I'd let Lupin and Sirius kill him that night," Harry mumbled once again, "I remember Dumbledore saying it was good I didn't because now I had a servant of Voldemort in my debt. But I still wish he was dead."
Hermione didn't interrupt him but let him mumble. Sometimes he remembered faster that way. Today was one of those days. Harry mumbled himself straight into the end of his third year. All the while with Hermione scrolling into her notebook.
"What do you write in there?" Harry asked, curiously all of a sudden.
Hermione would always write in there during all their lessons and before now Harry had never inquired as to why.
She looked by, a pink tinge tainting her cheeks.
Harry quirked up an eyebrow, "Well?"
"Erm…it's sort of like a diary type thing I suppose," she said, unnerving, "This is the only time when I can write. Certainly can't when I'm at home where the walls aren't guarded by only the most ancient of magic."
"What do you write in there that's so private and confidential?" Harry asked, bemused.
"Nothing at all," Hermione said, swiftly, but a smile played on her face.
"It's about him then? Ron?" Harry asked.
Once again Hermione's blush gave it all away.
Hermione blushing. Neville breaking things. Harry desiring to play Quidditch. Ron coming back into their lives.
Things were changing. Changing back to normal that is.
Sunshine smiled on Ron's face for the first time in a good many years. And this time, he was letting it. Somehow he was starting to like those odd bright cheery things that he'd taken for fool's joys.
Sunshine. Birds Chirping. Music. Clouds. Chocolate. Smiles. Strolling.
And it was all because of her. She was changing him even from one date and he knew it. Strangely enough, he was enjoying it.
Even now, as he walked through the orchards surrounding one of the many estates of Voldemort, he felt happy and there was a certain spring to his step that only he was oblivious to noticing.
Ignorance was complete and utter bliss.
"Aargh!" Ron cried out as if tripped over something or rather someone and landed on the cobbled pavement.
His robes tore and his knee gnashed painfully against a rock. Cradling the wound close to him, Ron furiously whirled around to find an extremely scared wizard. He had apparently been working on fixing a bench beside the pathway and in kneeling over hadn't notice which Death Eater was coming his way.
"Mr. Weasley! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to…," he trailed off and instead preceded to cover his face with his arms, expecting the worst.
For a second it seemed he was going to get it but then Ron's face softened, "Don't worry about it. It was really my fault, mate. Didn't look where I was going."
Ron whispered a small healing spell which closed up his wound and left nothing there but a thin scar. He gave the worker wizard one last smile before heading off on his own way. The wizard stared after him in surprise. Now that would be a story to tell his grandchildren.
Mr. Death Eater himself had now just stopped off at a bench where he settled down to enjoy the day's sunshine. He conjured up a butterbeer and sipped he happily. What reason did he have not to be happy?
"Weasley," Theodore Nott muttered, appearing out of nowhere even though Ron had not heard a apparation pop, "What are you doing in all this sun?"
Ron gestured towards the butterbeer in his hand, "Just enjoying me a drink."
Nott frowned, "But why out here in all this…nature?"
Ron shrugged, "I think it's quite-and then he used the word he hadn't in years-nice."
Nott's frown only grew deeper, "Right. Well go drink elsewhere. Like in the Dark Lord's chambers. He wants to meet with you. Now."
Now it was Ron's turn to frown. Lord Voldemort was the ultimate reason for him not to be happy. After saying that he promptly scolded himself. Just because the Dark Lord had interrupted his fun didn't mean that he was to dampen his name. He sighed deeply, set his butterbeer on the bench and apparated with Nott still in sight.
He appeared before the Dark Lord's bedchambers. It was odd to imagine Voldemort ever asleep. But when he knocked he found his Lord tucked, neatly into bed.
"My Lord," Ron said, automatically, with a bow.
"Weasley," Voldemort said in response, "I haven't seen much of you lately, Weasley. Actually let me rephrase that. I haven't seen enough if you lately, Weasley."
Ron bowed once more, "I'm sorry, sir. I have been busy with my Prime Minister campaign and other such tasks that you have downed upon me."
Voldemort remained expressionless but his voice spoke volumes, "Ah. I see. Well do you know why I called you here, today?"
"Can't say that I do, my Lord," Ron replied once again.
"Then let me tell you about what I have been hearing about my number one right hand man," Voldemort continued, "Reports that he's been giving flowers to Muggle women?"
"It's a public gesture. Get the Muggles to think I'm sort of sappy, compassionate man," Ron said in his defence.
"Then I shall let that go," Voldemort said, silkily, "But tell me how to are to explain this. Death Eaters telling me you've been acting out of character lately. Acting soft, boisterous, even, dare I say, kind?"
"I-I don't know what to say," Ron said, knowing full well he did.
Even now, standing before his master he couldn't believe himself. How could he lie to Voldemort? His Lord, His King? The one human being on earth that Ron had left he could always speak the truth with? But wasn't that the problem? The fact that Voldemort wasn't even really a human being?
"Then don't speak. Let me see," Voldemort simpered.
Ron felt him then. Inside his head. The force he'd felt ever since he'd been in seventh year. Like someone was controlling his mind. Someone who knew what he had to do and when he had to do it. That was when Ron knew he must blow this certain force. He was starting not to enjoy it in his head very much.
He felt Voldemort searching his mind; his memories for some clue as to why he was behaving so. He shielded himself against it. Particularly the memory with his date with Hermione above all. If Voldemort saw that he would be risking not only Hermione's life but his as well.
After what seemed like an eternity he felt Voldemort's presence leaving his mind. Well, as much as it could. It was always sort of there.
"You are free to go, Weasley," Voldemort said with a wave of his hand, "But remember that I see all and I will keep a close eye on you."
Ron shivered and hurried out of the room. Voldemort's threat should have frightened him but it didn't. It only made him want to spite him secretly by meeting Hermione again. And this time he would request that Harry Potter come along as well.
Author's Note: Nothing extraordinary happened in this chapter but expect things to happen in the chapters to come. But I have good news about my updates. Now that I don't have to worry my ass off about two stories (since His Wedding is over) I can concentrate fully on this story.
xo. Winky