Ron’s Best Friend
Fifth Caper: Bad dog!
The ‘brunch’ wasn’t just a brunch. All who could stay were persuaded to stay. Only Professor McGonagall left at dusk after tea, but not without complimenting her favourite student on her lovely home. Hermione quite glowed like a Veela. While the men took care of the grill and the drinks for dinner, the women toured the house again from stern to stern. They had already done so earlier, but Minerva’s praise made them all eager to reconnoitre. Even Molly learned things from her daughter-in-law, mostly colour complementing and decorating tricks. Hermione humbly said she only learned from her mum, the knack of making a room’s light and dimness a pleasant balance through motifs and mirrors, aside from keeping all seem cosy, tidy and neat, but not too neat, despite Hermione’s reputation. It was there she earned Molly’s praise. A Weasley home wasn’t home without ‘homey clutter’.
“Is that where Cerb sleeps?” Ginny asked as they paused in the master’s bedroom, pointing at the basket at the foot of Hermione’s nightstand. They’d just finished looking in at all the upstairs rooms. “He sleeps here in your room?”
“Yes, well, he always follows me and Ron here at bedtime anyway.” Hermione grinned. While Molly was looking out at the view in the French windows, Hermione added to Ginny, Fleur and Luna sotto voce, “You think Ron would have allowed it if Cerb’s a light sleeper?” And they all giggled.
Molly glanced at them bemused but wisely didn’t prod. “So which one becomes the nursery, Hermione?”
“Oh, well, we haven’t decided yet. What do you think, Mum?”
The older woman beamed. She always did when Hermione (or Harry) called her ‘Mum’. “Well, dear, if you really want my opinion, that room opposite this one is very nice. And it’s nearest from here and from the stairs. It’s best to have the baby’s room as accessible as possible. Noise from the hall isn’t a problem anyway because of charms.”
Hermione nodded. “I don’t know why Ron and I can’t seem to decide. I’ll clear our things from there tomorrow. It’s too small to be used by guests so we tend to keep and throw stuff in there just so it’s used.”
“There’s no hurry, Hermione! You’re not even pregnant yet.”
“It’s best to be prepared, Ginny! And it’s sweet. You tell Harry to prepare a nursery yourselves.”
“Mum!”
○0○
Of course there was no hurry. The ‘tomorrow’ Hermione said remained a ‘tomorrow’ still, even a month later. There had been books to read, Ron, researches to research, Ron, walks to walk, Ron, plants to plant, Ron, and Cerb.
He had grown quite famous in the neighbourhood. Despite Enid, Ron loved going home early and walking his dog, often dragging Hermione with them, dinner baking or burning or no. They seemed to have started a trend even, because not long after these regular walks, they’d seen Mrs Brown walking a new Labrador. And then Mr Ford Kimball the lawyer also emerged one day being towed by a full-grown mastiff.
“Our old dog. Mum’s getting on quite a bit for him and gladly surrendered him to me when I asked... I mean, you three looked so happy together. But I think neither Ben nor I are happy with this tug of war.”
Ron chuckled. He stopped trying to keep up with Mr Kimball. The lawyer, a reedy man, also stopped walking. He promptly almost toppled over.
“It’s too late to teach him, but he can still learn, perhaps,” Hermione panted, catching up with them. “Whenever he tugs, just plant yourself firmly on the ground, Ford. That will teach him that tugging gets him nowhere.”
But Ford Kimball was already being pulled away. He groaned good-naturedly. Hermione laughed as Ron also grabbed on Bill’s leash to help keep him in place. Cerb yipped, seemingly cheering both dog and men.
“Plant yourself firmly on the ground and hold on to a tree or post, I mean.” To herself, Hermione added, “Only Hagrid can handle mastiffs, I suppose.”
○0○
September arrived with chill winds and almost daily showers. The walks became few and far in between, as Hermione didn’t want Ron or Cerberus to get sick from the cold and wet. They stayed snuggled in their little house, often curled up together by the fire in the sitting room, the two ‘boys’ romping as much as they could without knocking things over while Hermione read.
“Ron, you know what tomorrow is, don’t you?”
Ron looked up from burrowing his finger in Cerb’s ear.
“What?” He grinned. “Aside from it being exactly twelve days before your birthday.”
Without taking her eyes away from her book, Hermione lay her back down on his lap. Cerb jumped and then promptly nosed his way into the crook of Hermione’s elbow.
“It’s my first annual autumn visit to Mum and Dad, Ron. I’ll be staying the night and won’t be back until the next evening.”
Ron hid his grimace behind a yawn. It had been arranged since their ‘official’ wedding. Hermione would visit her parents for two days and one night every year during September. For the present, it was an ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ thing for the two of them. In the future when there would be more household members aside from him and a dog, it would be a respite for Hermione and a torture for Ron.
“Is that why you’re so glum? You can skip it, you know, Hermione. Your mum and dad said you’ll go only if you want to.”
She turned over to mumble into his shirt, “They only said that. But if I do skip, there’ll be fallout. Maybe when we have kids I can skip without Mum giving me a cold shoulder up to Christmas, but right now it’s just you and me and Cerb and it’s only two days and one night. You’re with your husband the rest of the year and you’ve also been with him and your friends in the years before this and we never said a word, Hermione!”
The last were said in a slightly shrill and whinging voice. The two of them laughed.
“Did Helen really say that?”
“No. But you get my point.”
“We’ll survive, love.”
Hermione looked up at him. “Will you?”
“We’ll just stay out of the house ””
“It’s always raining.”
“We won’t wreck anything, Hermione,” Ron said with mock slight indignation.
Hermione lightly punched his belly. “It’s not that. It’s just ””
“We’ll miss you, too.”
Hermione’s eyes actually watered and she buried her face in his shirt again, hugging his waist. Ron hugged her back but grew alarmed when she began sobbing.
○0○
“Come on, Missus Waterworks, you’ll be back soon.”
Ron exchanged a bewildered look with Cerb, who sat on his rump by the hearth. A fire crackled there, ready for the Floo powder. It was raining again and, though Hermione’s parents didn’t use it themselves, the Floo connection was there for convenience.
Ron and Hermione stood in front of the fireplace that morning, just past ten. Well, Ron was standing; Hermione clung to him, crying onto his chest.
After a deep breath, she let go of him and wiped her eyes angrily. “For goodness’ sake. I don’t know why I’m this cheery. It’s ridiculous.”
Ron chuckled in agreement.
Hermione glared at him and ferociously threw his arm off her. “It’s the first time we’ll be separated since we married. But I see it means nothing to you.”
Without another word, she grabbed a handful of Floo powder from the pot, threw it into the flames and stepped into them, snarling, “Sixteen Doctors’ Street!” like a malediction.
Ron stood there gaping at the fire long after it turned back to non-magical red and orange. Cerb looked up at him, tilting his head to the right, one of his ears raised, as though asking what on earth just occurred. Ron shrugged.
They both jumped a foot into the air when a pop sounded and the fire glowed green again. Hermione’s head sat on the logs.
“I’m sorry, Ron. I was just ””
Still bemused but largely relieved, Ron dropped on his haunches beside the fire. “Don’t worry about it, love. Enjoy your stay with your parents. We’ll behave. And hey, Hermione, you know I’ll miss you terribly. But we have to share you.”
She nodded petulantly. And perhaps that odd glitter in the fire was her eyes watering again. But she went back to her parents’ fire and the connection terminated.
○0○
Fred and George Floo-ed over for lunch, with food packed by their mother. And then they took Ron and Cerb with them back to the shop. Cerb still held a grudge against the twins, but he enjoyed the tide of people at Diagon Alley. He sat there at the foot of the till counter peering out at the glass door, watching the rain and the shoppers. The crowd wasn’t as thick because it wasn’t school season, so he had room, and several admirers. No one came in or out of the shop without stroking his head.
In a bid to win him over, the twins took them to The Leaky Cauldron for dinner, ordering a steak for Cerberus.
“Oy! That’s going too far, you mangy mutt!” Fred said indignantly when Cerb merely turned up his nose at the steak and laid his head at Ron’s boot.
Ron was so tickled he gave half of his braised beef to Cerb.
He wasn’t as tickled when they arrived back in their silent, Hermione-less home. Cerb whined and plopped down in front of the hearth in the sitting room.
“She’s not coming back until tomorrow evening, boy,” Ron said sadly. He picked up the dog with a grunt. Cerb was getting so big. Ron hoisted him to his chest and shoulder and went upstairs.
But for the first time, Cerb wasn’t keen on staying in the master’s bedroom. Thrice Ron followed him back down to the sitting room and took him back upstairs, but the dog really wanted to remain in vigil by the fire.
Ron smiled wanly at him and gave up, stretching out on the couch instead.
○0○
He didn’t know how long he’d slept. A nasty clap of thunder woke him up. And then he heard Cerberus whimpering. Thinking the dog was upset by the storm, Ron lit all the lamps.
Much, much later, he would wish he hadn’t done such a thing.
If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have seen the digested remains of braised beef on the hall floor, he wouldn’t have discovered the mess until morning, and by then he wouldn’t have been too groggy to forget that his wand must have been stuck in the between the couch cushions. He wouldn’t have cast around wildly for paper. He wouldn’t have gone to the nursery-to-be to get old Daily and Evening Prophets. He wouldn’t have been rendered curious by the little rosewood box on the twin bed. He wouldn’t have seen Hermione’s stash of old letters from Vicky.
Cerberus was still whimpering by the time he got back downstairs.
Ron grinned at the dog manically. Our poor Cerberus whimpered more, cowering by the front hall table.
Still with the hideous grin, Ron turned the dog with his free hand and then spanked him, though gently. “Bad dog, Cerb!” And then he began to talk very fast and feverishly. Cerb backed away to the rear legs of the table.
“But here we’ll take care of your mess it’s not a big deal even I wouldn’t have dared go out to go potty in that storm. And see, though I can’t find my wand we have a solution to our problem.” And he laughed. No, cackled.
And ye gods, he waved Vicky’s old letters in front of his dog and began piling the parchments on top of the miniature poop hills.
And, ye gods, there was another pop from the fireplace, and another glow of green. And another small whimper, this time human and feminine.
Ron froze. Cerb froze. Mutters reached them soon enough. “I’m so pathetic. Next, Ron will think I won’t last when he goes back to the office after the weekend ”
They saw Hermione’s bare legs first. She was wearing her night robe and holding a large brown monkey plushie in one arm.
“Ron? What are you “ oh, Cerb, I missed you boys so much “ ”
Count to ten. In the first five seconds, Hermione looked from Ron to Cerb and back, smiling albeit a little mournfully. Six, she saw the ‘accidents’. Seven, she saw Ron was taking care of it. Eight, she recognised the parchments. Nine, she blinked disbelievingly. Ten, she gasped.
Needless to say, our poor Cerb wanted to melt in with the wainscot.
Author’s Note: Life seems to happen whenever I presumptuously promise updates, so I won’t from now on. Been busy and been happy, that’s all. But I won’t abandon my WIP’s, especially not this one. It’s too dear to me, just as dogs are dear to us. ^_^ Please review! Thank you.