Ron smiled at Hermione and reached forward to hold her hand, but she merely shook her head. “No, Ron.”
“I love you, Hermione.”
Hermione didn’t say anything. She just stepped backwards, her eyes becoming moist.
“Please… believe me…” Ron begged.
“No, Ron, I have to go. I’m sorry.” Tears began to stream down Hermione’s face, as she backed into the endless darkness forever. “I love you… but you have never loved me.”
Ron sat up on his bed with a start, sweat dripping down his forehead. He brushed his damp hair out of his eyes, realising that he had been dreaming. But it was a horrifying dream. Hermione had gone away forever…
Groaning, Ron buried his face into his palms. The thought of the legal notice that Hermione had just received made him feel sick to his stomach. Why? Why did this have to happen? Why couldn’t everything be like it was, just a few months ago? Why couldn’t he and Hermione be together again?
I love you… but you have never loved me.
Was this true? Was Hermione the only one who loved Ron? Hadn’t Ron ever reciprocated her love? How untrue! He had always loved her with all his heart. He still loved her” more than anyone else; more than anything else.
Ron walked to the window and pulled the curtains apart. A golden gleam was beginning to line the sky, symbolising the beginning of a new day. But Ron wasn’t paying attention to the beautiful scenery outside. What on earth was wrong with Hermione? Why must she behave like this? He slid down to the floor, pain eating at his insides. Leaning against the wall, he took a deep breath and shut his eyes, thinking of all those wonderful times that he and Hermione had spent. Their marriage… Jake and Jessica’s birth… that vacation they’d had in Spain…
There was a sharp tap at Ron’s door and the dream scattered away. He rubbed his eyes, realising that he had fallen asleep again. Someone knocked again, but he did not bother to reply. Then there was another knock. “Ron?”
Ron looked away. He did not feel like getting up and getting dressed for work. However, he got up and walked to the door.
“Ron?” he heard Harry’s muffled voice call again. “Are you all right, mate?”
“I’m” I’m not feeling very well,” Ron replied. “You people can carry on.”
There was silence. Ron went back and lay down on his bed, as there was another softer knock. “Ron?” It was Hermione this time. “Let me in.”
Ron got up and opened the door by an inch or two. Hermione was standing just outside with a calm expression on her face. A little farther away were Harry and Ginny, wearing worried expressions on their faces. Hermione followed Ron’s glance towards them, before opening the door a bit more and letting herself in. She then shut it behind her. “Now what is the matter, Ron?” she asked, folding her arms. “Why are you creating such a drama?”
“You’re divorcing me?” Ron said, in a hoarse voice.
Hermione hesitated. “It’s for our own good, Ron.”
“But” but,” Ron sputtered, “I love you, Hermione… and””
“This isn’t working. Let us not fool ourselves into it.”
“Can’t we try again?”
“No. I think we’ve both had enough. Let’s not trouble ourselves anymore.”
“Please,” Ron begged, taking her hand. She looked into his eyes, tears welling up her own. Then loosening her hand out of Ron’s grip she wiped them away, sniffing softly. Ron laid his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Hermione. I’ll never let this happen again. I love you.”
“No.” Hermione shook off his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ever falling in love with you… I should have known that you’d get tired of me, some day…”
This was unbearable. Ron felt anger course through him, again. “Hell, I’m not tired of you, Hermione! I don’t give a damn to how geekier or entertaining Rebecca is! I seriously don’t care. I doubt that we’ll so much as meet again, once this case is done.”
“So that’s why you’ve given her a way to contact you, is it? You want to keep talking””
“THAT’S IT!” Ron roared his temper flying out of control. Then he took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. “You want to give me a divorce, right? Just go and do it, then.”
She hesitated. “Not now…”
“Oh, so you’re waiting?” Ron asked, flaring up. “Feeling sorry for me, are you?”
“Ron””
“Just get out of the house and do it, Hermione!” he snarled. “I don’t think I can take””
“Will you listen to me?” she asked finally, cutting across him. “I’m planning to wait for your case to be solved.”
Ron felt his temper drain out of him. He smiled. “So” so you believe me?”
“No,” she said, as she opened the door. “I’ll file for divorce after everything has been sorted out.”
“Then where are you going right now?”
“To the Ministry of Magic. I want to understand how the system works, so that it’s smooth when it finally happens.”
***
Harry stared at his toast, unable to swallow down a single piece. He could feel Ginny’s eyes on him, as she helped herself to the late breakfast. He sighed and shook his head, trying to get rid of the nagging thoughts. Ron was doing the same on the other side of the table: he hadn’t touched his breakfast either.
“Oh, what’s the matter with you two?” Ginny asked finally, abandoning her toast. “I can understand why Ron isn’t eating, but Parvati is going to kill me if she knows that I let you starve, Harry.”
The rest of the Aurors and Padma had left for work early as usual, but Harry and Ginny had stayed back for Ron. Then after Hermione had spoken to Ron and left, the latter had finally come out of his room, totally devastated.
Parvati had left with Hermione, saying that she had an errand to complete and Harry hadn’t thought of it until Ron had broken the news of his divorce. The news of Ron and Hermione’s divorce had reminded Harry of his encounter with Ginny in the hospital on the previous day. Parvati had seen them, after all. And now, she was going to divorce Harry the way Hermione was divorcing Ron.
“Well?” Ginny persisted, looking at Harry. He blanched.
“Nothing, not hungry…”
“Oh yes you are,” Ginny said, as she snatched his plate along with Ron’s. “You’ve let it go cold. I’ll get some fresh ones, and you two had better eat it.” She stalked away to the kitchen, muttering under her breath. Harry looked at Ron in silence.
Ron raised an eyebrow. “Really, mate, I’m the one getting divorced over here. You don’t need to get so upset for me.” He gave Harry a weak grin.
Harry looked down for a second before telling him, “I think I know why Parvati went…”
“Yeah, she had to take care of an errand.”
“Y”yeah… yeah,” Harry said, deciding that this wasn’t the right thing to discuss with Ron.
Ron looked suspicious for a minute, but as Ginny came back with a new stack of toast, he accepted his quietly. Harry took one too, and began to force it down. Silence pressed itself upon them ominously, and the minutes ticked by slowly. Finally, after an hour, they cleared everything and sat at the dining table, dissolved in their own thoughts. The doorbell rang.
Harry got up and Hermione smiled at him as he opened the door. Harry frowned. “Wasn’t” wasn’t Parvati with you?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Hermione replied. “We left together, but she went to shop for winter clothes, I think.”
“What?”
“Well… you didn’t expect her to come to the Ministry to know about divorce procedures, did you, Harry?”
“No,” Harry said. “But she” she saw us yesterday and…”
“What are you talking about?” Hermione asked cautiously.
Harry eyed Ron and Ginny quickly. “I wanted to speak to you about something.”
Hermione nodded understandingly and followed Harry to his room. He locked the door behind them, and looked up the other woman. “Well… I’m guilty of something, Hermione.”
“What did you do?” she asked sharply.
“W” we” er… Ginny and I kissed…well, almost…”
“WHAT? Harry!”
“Well… I don’t know how it happened!” Harry said. “It” we didn’t mean to””
“Oh Harry,” Hermione said, looking at him. “Why did you put yourself into this mess? I told you right when you were going to propose””
“Well, I don’t regret being married to Parvati,” he snapped at her. “It’s just… I was scared that Parvati had seen us.”
“I don’t think she did,” she replied. “You were lucky. But Harry…”
“It won’t happen again,” Harry told her. “I just got carried away… I think.”
“Don’t cheat on her, okay? It feels awful. With Ron, these days…” she stopped midway and looked down.
Harry clutched her wrist. “Ron isn’t cheating on you, Hermione.”
She looked up. “Well, that’s barely the point, now. You mustn’t””
“I won’t cheat on Parvati and Naina for anything,” Harry promised sincerely. “Do you think I can bear that on my conscience? But you’ve gotta forgive Ron, Hermione.”
“Harry, not you too! Have you seen him behave with me, these days?”
“I dunno, Hermione, but he and Rebecca are anything but intimate. You should believe him.”
“Well, I do!”
“But he said””
“Harry, I just told him that so that he isn’t conscious of the fact that I’m giving him a second chance. I want to see whether he improves in this hopeless situation.”
Harry raised an eyebrow as the doorbell rang again. “Can’t you just forgive the poor bloke?”
“No. He deserves this, Harry,” she replied, opening the door and walking back to the living room.
Harry followed her out to see Parvati enter, laden with shopping. Her other hand was pushing Naina’s pram, where the child lay asleep “Could you take this?” she asked him, jerking her head towards the window, where three owls stood waiting with a large something tied between them. “I’ve received a parcel.” Harry obeyed her and took the bags. He placed his other hand on Naina’s pram, pushing her into his room.
Going in, he gently picked up the girl from the pram and placed her in her cot. He tucked her into a soft quilt and kissed her forehead, just as Parvati came in with a box wrapped in brown paper. “I’m the Witch Weekly lucky draw winner,” she announced.
Harry snorted. “Congratulations.”
“Oh, shut up, Harry. It’s only a goody bag of some sort,” she giggled.
“Lovely!” Harry said again, sniggering. Parvati picked up a pillow and threw it at him.
This kept him quiet, as she ripped off the wrapping of the parcel. She finally opened the box and drew out a black, stylish hat. “Wow!” she gasped, “this looks nice, doesn’t”?” she stopped short as a pillow hit her hard.
“Harry!” She giggled, throwing it back at him and putting on the hat. “Be serious. How do I look?”
He grinned. “Lovely. But you’ll look better like this!” He threw another pillow at her, getting her face. She raised an eyebrow and was about to respond, when her eyes widened.
“H”Harry!” she said, taking a rattling breath. “Help… HARRY!”
“Oh no, I’m not falling for that,” Harry said. “You’ll attack”” he stopped abruptly, realising that she was not feigning this. “Parvati!” He rushed to her side immediately, as she collapsed onto the bed. “What happened?”
She pointed at her throat, coughing. “Can’t… breathe…”
“Was it the pillow?” Harry asked her. “Oh no… try to breathe… come on…”
“Can’t…” she replied. “Help… Harry…” Tears sprang up in her eyes and Harry didn’t know what to do. He held her hand and bent down, pressing his lips on hers and blowing. He prayed that this was right. He had never attempted CPR.
Harry surfaced and took another breath before meeting her lips with his again. He could feel the air find its way down the windpipe, but for some reason, it wasn’t helping her. Then Harry did the last thing he could think of. He got up and ran out of the room. “HERMIONE…!”
***
Chris sighed as he fell into a cushiony sofa in his living room. The room was huge, as was the rest of his house. In fact, it wouldn’t be wrong to call Chris’s house a mansion. It looked royal and it was very easy to get lost in it.
Chris’s parents had paid an arm and a leg to get hold of this house. They were rarely home, though, mainly due to the demands of their jobs. Mr. Stevens was a very popular cinema director, while Mrs. Stevens had been a leading actress until recent times. But when Chris was born, Mrs. Stevens decided to look after him, rather than pursue her career. Once Chris had completed primary school, his parents had enrolled him into a top-notch boarding school, but that was before his Hogwarts letter had arrived.
The arrival of the letter had been a joke in the family. Having parents who worked in an industry which produced optical illusions rarely helped. Mr. Stevens had thought that someone was pulling his leg, while Mrs. Stevens just laughed it off. But that was before Professor McGonagall arrived at their home to explain it all. Chris’s parents were slightly terrified at the idea of a ‘wizard’ in the family, but they accepted it.
Once Chris had started going to Hogwarts, his mother re-entered the film industry as a producer and began to travel with his father to earn. They were making quite a lot of money, now, and Chris got some every month for his own sustenance. His parents cared for him and always kept in touch. They gave him everything he wanted. Everything. And that was why Chris suffered in Daisy’s absence. She was the one that he wanted more than anything else, and he still couldn’t get her.
Chris had spoken to his mother about it, and yet, it hadn’t been much of a comfort. He still missed Daisy horribly. Mrs. Stevens had not been very happy when Chris had told her that he was in a relationship. She was a strict mother and she believed in priority for school. She didn’t want Chris to waste his time in a relationship. In the end, though, she accepted the fact that he had a girlfriend. But soon after that, Daisy and Chris had split up.
Chris felt the familiar sense of sadness, as he stood up and stretched. He walked over to the dining table and sat down. “Earl? Where are you?”
In a minute, Earl, Chris’s manservant was standing before him, adjusting his suit. “Yes, Chris?”
“Could you get me something to eat?”
“Anything that you would particularly prefer?”
“Just… anything. I just want to chuck something into my stomach.”
“Okay, I shall see what I can do.”
Earl left the room so that he could prepare Chris’s food, while the latter fiddled with the coasters for a bit, pondering. He had to think of something to get Daisy back… it was high time. But what could he do? He didn’t want to do anything to hurt her. He loved her too much for that. If he tried going out with someone, then it would definitely hurt her. And the last time this had happened, the consequences had been horrible.
The doorbell rang and Chris got up from his chair to get it. He opened the door to find Rebecca standing outside. She smiled. “Hi, Chris!”
“Hey, Becks, come in…”
She followed him to the dining table, where he resumed his seat. Pulling up another one, she sat next to him. “So, how come you aren’t at the hospital today?”
“I got a leave,” Chris replied. “I was responsible for Hermione for the last three days, so I got a break for today. And I notice that you aren’t working either… why?”
“Bunked,” Rebecca said, yawning.
“No, tell me the truth.”
“Hey, I really bunked! I took a sick leave for nothing.”
Chris raised an eyebrow and felt her forehead. “I think something’s really wrong, Becks, should I check you up?”
“Cut it,” she said, swatting his hand away. “It’s a Sunday, anyway, so they’ve got no right to call me to work today.”
“But aren’t you fond of extra work?”
“Not anymore… it’s just so tiring these days.” She paused, looking at him intently. “So? How’s life?”
“Great,” Chris replied. “I always wanted to live without Flower.”
She smacked her forehead. “Oh, for the sake of Merlin, Chris, it’s high time that you move on! You’ve been sulking over her for almost a year, now.”
“I have tried… I can’t, Becks, I am just not able to get over it.”
“Chris, she is not ready to forgive you. Stop going after her like that. You’ll only upset her further, if you behave like this!”
“But why won’t she even give me a chance?”
“That’s her! You know her very well, Chris, she doesn’t believe in second chances.”
Earl broke their conversation, as he entered the room bearing a huge bowl. “Master Chris, here’s a fruit salad for you.”
Chris looked away from Rebecca and at the bowl on the table. Picking up two forks, he gave one to Rebecca and dug his own into a piece of apple. “Remember how Flower and I became friends, Becks?”
“Yeah, it was in the train, wasn’t it?”
“Mm-hmm,” said Chris, enjoying the apple. “It was quite a funny incident.”
Chris walked through the corridor of the train, utterly confused. He had never travelled in a train before. It had always been his father’s Ferrari that took him around London, and the private jet for international tours. But trains? They were a novelty to him.
The train rattled on, passing green fields and stretches of barren land. Chris didn’t know where to sit. Would he meet someone from his own class? Chris put down his trunk and stood for a second. That was when a compartment door to his side slid open. “Hello, mate, which year?”
Chris looked to see a brown-haired boy grinning at him. “Uh, first year.”
“Oh, same here! Come right in, now, let’s sit together.”
Chris grinned and walked in taking his trunk with him. Inside were other kids, all seeming to be from his own class. Chris noticed that the boy who had welcomed him had a twin. There was another raven haired boy in the compartment. Then there were two girls. One of them had straight black hair to her shoulders. She wore glasses and had a chubby face. The other one had a round face, too, but her hair was curly. It just reached her chin. She didn’t wear glasses and was currently buried in a novel. Chris thought he’d seen her in a Wizarding history book that he’d read for basic knowledge in preparation for Hogwarts.
After putting his trunk on the loft, Chris sat down just opposite to the second girl. The twins had introduced themselves as Neil and Mike and the black haired boy was Shaun. The bespectacled girl was called Rebecca. The girl next to Chris wasn’t really participating in the conversation. He wondered who she was. Was she someone famous, amongst wizards? Chris decided to find out. “Er” hello!” he said, loudly enough to grab her attention.
She looked up from her book and smiled. “Hi!”
“I’m Chris Stevens. You?”
“Daisy Joe,” she said pleasantly. “Nice to meet you, Chris.”
Chris smiled. “So… you’re named after Daisy Duck?”
She raised an eyebrow, bewildered. “Er” who?”
“Daisy Duck… that cartoon character.”
Daisy suddenly didn’t look pleased to meet him anymore. “So you’re saying that I look like a cartoon?”
“No!” Chris replied. “I never meant that!”
She looked at him indignantly. “If you must know, my real name is Margaret. I’m just better known as Daisy.”
“Really?” Chris asked. “So… can I call you ‘Maggie’?”
This seemed to offend her more. “Can I call you ‘Christopher’, then?”
“‘Christopher’ isn’t my name.”
“And ‘Maggie’ isn’t my name either,” she snapped. “Good Lord! I hope you aren’t in my house.”
“No, I’ve got a house of my own!”
“Not that house. I was talking about the houses at Hogwarts. There are four of them” Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin.”
“You know all about Hogwarts?” Chris asked, amazed.
“My parents are wizards. They learnt magic at Hogwarts…”
“So… according to what I’ve read… you’re a pureblood?”
“No,” she replied. “My Mum’s Muggleborn, but Dad’s a Pureblood.”
“Oh, so you’re a Half-Blood. I never meant to offend you. I’m really sorry.”
“It’s all right.”
“So…” Chris began again. “Have I seen you somewhere?”
“Funny, I felt the same about you!”
“Do you subscribe to Muggle newspapers?”
“Yeah… have you made an appearance in there, then?”
“Not really, I’ve mostly been on television. I’m Melanie Sway’s son.”
“Oh! So that’s who you are! We do have a TV at home… and you have done a few ads, right?”
“Yeah. So have you made television appearances too?”
“Nope, I’m afraid not. I’m not famous.”
“Where do you live?”
“London.”
Chris shrugged. “I live in London too. We might have run into each other in a supermarket, I guess…”
“Yeah…” Daisy replied. There was silence between them. The others in the compartment were chatting merrily, occasionally laughing at a joke or wondering aloud about Hogwarts. Chris felt his stomach growl. At that precise time, an old witch with a lunch trolley stopped by their compartment.
“Anything off the trolley, dears?” she asked. Chris got up with the others, and they all bought sweets off the trolley. Finally, while he settled down, Chris opened a Chocolate Frog hungrily.
As he bit the chocolate, he noticed something in the pack. It was a card. He removed it to see a black-haired, bespectacled wizard staring at him. It was Harry Potter. And then, suddenly, it struck Chris. “Oh, so now I know who you are!” he said, looking at Daisy.
“Urm… who am I?”
“You’re Harry Potter’s daughter!”
Daisy choked on her iced pumpkin juice. “Excuse me?”
“Yeah, you’re his daughter! I’ve read about him! So why have you changed your surname?”
She snorted at this. “That’s stupid. He’d have to be nine when I was born, you idiot!”
“You were born in 1989?” Chris asked stupidly.
Daisy raised an eyebrow. “Obviously. I would hardly be in your class if I weren’t?”
“Er” sorry… I should have thought for a bit… so… he’s your cousin, then?”
Daisy looked furious. “Why the hell are you insisting that Harry Potter and I are related?”
“Because your hair looks the s”” Chris stopped himself just in time. “Sorry…” He looked up at Daisy, but she wasn’t angry this time. She was hurt.
“Thanks a lot.”
“Hey… I’m sorry!” Chris said desperately. He was feeling guilty, now. But really, what was wrong in looking like Harry Potter?
Daisy did not reply to his apology. She just returned to her novel, letting Chris look at her hopelessly. They reached Hogwarts at sundown and entered the magnificent castle; slopping wet due to the roaring lake. Chris was soon placed in Ravenclaw after that, along with Daisy, Rebecca, another girl called Belinda and two boys named Max and Andrew.
Daisy was chatting with Andrew, now, and he seemed more sensible than Chris. Feeling bad for being mean, Chris played with his food. Finally, he gathered the courage.
“Daisy?”
She gave him a burning glare and looked away.
“Daisy,” he said, “I’m really sorry. Could we forget the train incident and start over as friends?” He held out his hand to shake hers.
She stared at him. “Let’s see. We’ll shake hands the day we’re really friends, Chris.”
Chris sprang back to reality, as he felt a sharp prod at his shoulder. “Becks, ow!” he complained, rubbing the area. She raised an eyebrow.
“Well, sorry to bring you out of Dream World, Chris, but you’ve got a Floo call.” She pointed at the fireplace, where Healer Tudor’s head sat with a sceptical expression on it.
“Sorry, Healer,” Chris said, rushing to the grate.
“It’s all right, Stevens, but if you’ve finished dreaming, you’re to report to the hospital immediately. A woman was brought in a few minutes ago, dead already at the time of admission. Her relatives are assuming that she choked, but there is uncertainty about the cause of her death. I will be doing a post mortem, and I want you here by my side so that you can learn the procedure too.”
Chris nodded. “Coming right there,” he said, as Healer Tudor’s face vanished with a ‘pop’. He rushed up to his room to collect his things and was back in a few minutes. “Got to go, Becks… do you want to stay back?”
“No,” she replied, slinging her handbag over her shoulder. “I’m coming with you.”
“Why?”
“Well,” she said, checking her watch. “For one, it’s only half-past eleven and I’m bored. I want to see you do the post mortem. For another, being in St Mungo’s will convince Alice Robbins that I’m really sick, if she comes to check, that is.”
Killer Instincts by Ginny Weasley Potter
Chapter Notes: Hello!
A huge thank you to Pauie for correcting this chapter. :) *hugs*
I would also like to thank Inverarity for her suggestions on my excerpt.
Guys, please read and review!
This chapter is for Ta, whom I'll really miss. :(