The Fat Muggle, Ten Years Later

-----------The Fat Muggle, Ten Years Later. chapter one, "I recall my youth"-----------

There had always been one thing that Hermione had been good at doing throughout her life.

Succeeding in what she had foretaken herself.

So when she was chosen as the new Minister of Magic, first female too, her old schoolfriends were not very surprised.

And she'd succeeded in only three years, bringing some good changes to the Wizarding community.

All house elves had the option to take the weekends off and they were all being payed.

There were no longer any Dementors working as guards in Azkaban and with her new Auror program, almost every single Death Eater had been brought to justice.

She was living in London since fours years back and last Tuesday she'd gotten a letter from Dudley reminding her about their promise the day on the train when they finished school.

She was happy to hear from her old friend, but also nervous.

How could she meet Ron again after what happened?

She sat in King's Cross station and waited for the train.

She didn't want to go by Floo, as there was too much thinking she had to do and a long train ride would be just what the doctor ordered.

Sitting back in the comfortable seats of the Hogwarts Express(which now travelled every four hours insted of four times a year) Hermione re-read the letter from Dudley and smiled.

He seemed like the old Dudley as if he hadn't been affected by what happened to Neville.

That he had remained the kid from school and that he'd never felt the heartache.

No, that's not the right word for what he must have felt.

Total devastation of his heart is a better fit.

She remembered The Daily Prophet that fateful day in October five years ago.

"The Dark Lord is Gone!! Auror gives his life to save us all!!!"

Poor Neville.

The train started moving and Hermione started crying.

Harry lived in Hogsmeade in one of the biggest houses with the most beautiful facade and the absolute best view over Hogsmeade and you could see Hogwarts standing tall in the backgrounds.

He was the favourite teacher of many, many students.

He'd been given the Charms job directly after he finished school and after only a year, he got the Defense Against the Dark Arts job instead and having Remus as his rolemodel, he was quickly loved.

Remus had married a woman and moved to the Highlands.

Last Harry heard from him, they'd gotten a son.

Standing on his balcony, as he always did every morning, drinking his coffe, Harry looked out over his home town and he still marvelled the turn his life took when he was eleven.

He remembered Hagrid, knocking down the door and scaring everyone shitless.

Hagrid had died two years ago when he was saving a Unicorn that had wandered its way into some quicksand in the Forbidden Forrest.

He'd managed to get a rope around it and just as he'd pulled it into safety he slipped and fell in himslef.

He couldn't reach the rope and the few branches around him were to no good.

Hagrid was mourned by the whole of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, ans especially by Harry.

He had taken it as his job to keep his grave free from weeds.

Hagrid had been his very first friend in his life.

Harry finished his coffe and opened the mail that had just been delivered.

He saw Dudley's letter first of all and opened it.

He smiled and remembered that last day on the train and laughed at how they'd betted against Hermione becoming the Minister of Magic.

"Eight o'clock tonight at Madame Grey's Coffeshop....I'll be there, cousin," he said lowly.

"Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit!!" Ron said as he threw a Death Eater into a wall and knocked him out.

He put a full body bind on him and spat at his face and put his wand away.

"Was that really necessary?" his co-worker, Jonathan Devo, asked and levitated the Death Eater out of the cave.

"Shut up. I deal with these vermin the way they are supposed to be dealt with, got a problem?!?" Ron shouted back at him, pissed off.

"Sorry boss," Jonathen said.

Ron was the teamleader of his Auror team and had just busted five Death Eaters (two "unfortunately" killed) up in Scotland.

As he left the cave and walked out into the sun, an owl dropped a letter in his hands.

"Now what's this shit? It better not be any bills!" Ron froze when he saw Dudley's name on it as the sender.

Ron put it in his pocket and didn't open it untill he was back at the Ministry and had done all the paperwork.

Then sitting in a hard wooden chair, Ron opened the letter.

"Eight o'clock tonight? I don't have time for this bullshit, I have to...." He sighed and put his head in his hands.

"What? You have to do what? Continue felling sorry for yourself? Be bitter about something that happened seven years ago? You prick!" he told himself.

He remembered.

The walk down Memory Lane was a painful one with the loss of a friend and the loss of a lover. And a child.

Maybe he needed to see them all again to get on with his life.

God knows he's tried but he can't get past the loss of his only love.

"Maybe if I see her just once...." he thought out loud.

He looked at his watch (seven fifteen) and stood up.

As he walked out of the office he Apparated as fast as he could.

Once he got home to his rathole of an apartment in Manchester, he showered and changed to some more fitting clothes.

When his hair was neatly combed , he left for Hogsmeade.

Dudley was already sitting at Madame Grey's with a Cinnamon Coffe and a copy of The Daily Prophet.

It wasn't a new copy.

This copy was five years old.

Dudley almost always had it with him.

That paper, along with a necklace he'd been given one Christmas six years ago, was the only thing he had left of Neville.

And there was no way in hell he was giving up either of them.

Dudley had lost touch with Harry somewhere after Neville's funeral and he hadn't seen either Hermione or Ron since that dinner in the Weasley's garden.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had died only three months apart from each other about two years after they had finished school.

Dudley was completely alone and that was one of the reasons why he'd reminded everyone about the promise.

He was never good at being alone.

And after just getting the boot from his job (postal worker in the Muggle world) there was just one place left for him to go.

So here he was, still abit pudgy but it wasn't so bad as it had been in the past.

The sun was already setting as it was in the end of August, but it wasn't cold.

The ground was littered with yellow, brown, red and dark green leaves and the breeze was cool and it felt like it had a refreshing breath .

A breath Dudley desperatley wanted to be his so he could turn his life around and get on his feet again.

"Shouldn't you have a piece of apple pie to go with that coffe. Duds?"

Dudley turned around and saw Harry closing the distance between them.

He wore a long, deep blue cotton coat that came down to his ancles and a brown cardigan and plain, lightblue jeans.

He didn't have his glasses anymore and his hair was shorter than it had been all those years ago, revealing his scar completely.

"How are you doing, you twat?" Dudley said and smiled as he got up and hugged Harry and patted his back.

Harry laughed.

"I'm fine, thanks! And you?"

"Could have been better but so what?" Dudley said as they sat down and Harry ordered a piece of apple pie and a cup of coffe.

The waitress went on her way and it didn't take her one minute to return with Harry's order.

Dudley pulled on his worn brown leather jacket as it was getting colder.

It was quiet for a while.

Then Dudley took out the copy of The Daily Prophet and laid it out on the table.

Harry stopped eating.

"I guess you heard what happened?" Dudley asked.

"Yes. I'm sorry I couldn't come to the funeral," Harry answered and leaned back in his chair.

"It was for a just cause, I know that, but...why did it have to be him?" Dudley said and felt his throat choke up.

Harry couldn't say anything.

There was no answer to that question.

It was quiet again.

"What time is it?" asked Harry.

"Almost eight. The others should be here soon," Dudley answered.

And sure enough, there was Hermione making her way through the almost empty street.

"Hello guys," She said and smiled.

Her scarf was blowing slightly in the breeze and her buttoned deeporange coat made her look very adult.

But her face still looked like the same old Hermione as she hugged them both and sat down with the setting sun in her face opposite Dudley, next to Harry.

"Ooh, that looks nice," she said and ordered the same thing as Harry was having.

"How are you, Hermione? Fine I guess," Harry said implying her career.

"Yes, I'm fine. But it has been to long since I've seen any of the old crew," she said and smiled at them.

"And Ron?" Harry asked.

Harry had lost touch with Ron too, even though they were the best friends since time began.

"I don't know what he's up to more than he's still one of our top Aurors," Hermione said and ate a piece of apple pie.

"What happened to you two, really?"Dudley asked carefulley as he knew it had been a terrible break up for them.

"He blamed me for the death of both Neville and Tristan. I guess we couldn't have continued even if we wanted to," Hermione said, not looking up.

Ron arrived at Madame Grey's Coffe shop, but in the alley next to the shop, and he let out several bad words because of his poor Apparation skills.

Just as he walked around the corner he saw them.

They looked so different but so a like themselves.

He backed back into the alley and leaned against the wall.

Ron felt the scar on his cheek.

It was rigid and wasn't as smooth as Harry's.

It was an ugly scar left as a reminder of the fight against Voldemort.

A constant reminder of the tradgedy that killed his son and his friend.

"He blamed me for the death of both Neville and Tristan." he heard Hermione say.

He laughed a silent and joyless laugh.

He didn't blame her.

He blamed himself for not being able to save them from Voldemort.

He still didn't know what went wrong with the plan.

How did Voldemort get a hold of Tristan?

Someone had to have tipped him off, that was the only way it could have gone so wrong.

But the more Ron had dug into the case, the less he understood of who was the one that had provided Voldemort with the information that killed Neville and Tristan and left Ron with a scar as a constant reminder.

"I can't face them!" he said to himself.

But you know you have to, Ronnikins, his mind told him.

He nodded and took a deep breath.

And left the alley.

------------to be continued in chapter two, "Back to Hogwarts"------------------