Fallen To Be Found

Lost and Fallen

Prologue

March 1998 (the Trio's seventh year): Because of the current situation with the Death Eaters gaining more and more power and the warlike atmosphere, Hogwarts is momentarily closed.

Harry, of course wanting to remain in the wizarding world to help his friends, hadn't told the Dursleys. Consequently he, Hermione and Ron - the latter against the wish of their parents - are trying their very best to undermine the plans of the so called 'Heirs', a group of former students, who will most certainly once become the next generation of Death Eaters. And like their idols they have now begun to chase down Muggleborns and other enemies of the 'Cleaning', killing the former and cursing the latter with the 'Blind Depression', a curse that takes not only the victims eyesight, but its hope until it either swears to obey the Dark Lord or kills itself.

"You really have to go into hiding. You are in grave danger!" said Harry, desperately trying to convince Hermione.

She gave a dry laugh. "This coming from you is really rich," she said.

Harry sighed. "I've been in danger ever since I was born and the war doesn't really make a difference. If so, I'm probably in less danger, since Voldemort is concentrating on warfare. They, however, are actually after you. Herm, they tried to kill you!"

"And I have escaped, haven't I?" she retorted, "And anyway, I'm the only one who knows how to -"

"Hermione!" Ron interrupted her crossly. This did it! Hermione looked at him slightly abashed. When her boyfriend used her full first name in this sort of voice, she knew he was truly infuriated. "You will go under Fidelius, if you want to or not!"

Hermione thought she hadn't heard right. "Are you threatening me?"

"No. I beseech you! When they get their filthy hands on you, they will kill you! But before they grant you that mercy, they will most certainly torture you and force you to give away the recipe for the counter potion. And they will set us under pressure. So if you don't want to do it for me, do it for Harry for example."

"But...," Harry muttered.

"Oh Ron. You know I'd do almost everything for you, but -," Hermione began softly.

Ron, however, gave her no chance for explanations. "Then hide!"

Trying to avoid the upcoming discussion, Harry finally interfered. "He's right, Herm. It would be the best for you and us all and you could use the time to improve your counter potion."

Hermione fell silent and looked back and forth between her two best friends. Of course, she knew that they were after her, but going into hiding would mean to leave them both alone. She would be condemned to wait, probably not knowing whether they are alive or dead.

Sensing her confusion and her inner battle, Ron took her hand, for once being very calculating. "I really couldn't bear to lose you," he said.

"Nor could I," Harry added.

This was so unfair! This was blackmail!

She sighed. "You're impossible, you know. Both of you!" she said, "I give in! I'll hide. But who shall be my Secret Keeper?"

"Me, of course," Ron stated, as if not knowing why she even asked.

Hermione, however, was of a completely different opinion. "No!" she said firmly, "Neither you nor Harry. That's for sure."

"We wouldn't -," Harry tried to interfere.

Yet Hermione continued as if she hadn't heard. "It would be too obvious and I would endanger you even more. If you two want me to hide, I can't help you anymore, but I don't want to aggravate your situation."

"But if neither of us is your Secret Keeper, we won't know where you are and won't be able to protect you!" said Ron obviously not understanding.

"I can look after myself," she said, slowly becoming annoyed, "Ron, this is the deal! Accept it or I won't hide!"

Harry went over to his friend, who looked to the ground, defeated, and laid one hand on his shoulder. He turned to Hermione. "Okay. Who will be your Secret Keeper then?" he asked, giving in into the situation.

"I'm not sure yet," she said, "And when I know, I won't tell you. The less you know, the better. But be ensured: I'll go under Fidelius by tomorrow night."

Hermione hasn't been seen ever since in the wizarding world.

One week after Harry, though cursed with the 'Blind Depression', has finally (and hopefully for ever) defeated the Dark Lord with the Sword of Gryffindor in his hand and Ron as his eyesight by his side, Ron has received a letter from Hermione, giving him the recipe for the counterpotion and cure against the curse. This has been the last he saw of her.

Most Death Eaters are either in Azkarban or on the run, but no one knows, how to deal with the 'Heirs', since most of them aren't off age yet.

Like the better part of wizarding Great Britain, Harry and Ron search throughout the whole country for her best friend - the war heroine, who has developed the cure against the 'Blind Depression'. But no one is searching for her in the Muggle world, since she is supposed to be dead there, for her parent's home has burned down with them being and dying inside.

***

**********

***

August 2000: London

Hurrying along Liverpool street, Alice made her way to the station, with a book in one hand and a bag in the other, when her bumping into a young man forced her to come to a sudden halt.

"Oh," she exclaimed, "I'm sorry! I haven't been looking."

"I have to be sorry," said the young man.

Alice, who hasn't been looking at him properly before, looked up in mild surprise.

He smiled at her and said, "It was my fault. May I invite you to a drink to make up for my clumsiness?"

The girl blushed slightly. The young man was really very handsome - a redhead, very well built, tall, with deep blue eyes and slightly tanned skin with the typical freckles coming along with that hair colour. He wore a simple but elegant white shirt with a loose necktie and trousers in a dark shade of azure.

"But it really wasn't your fault," she said, feeling slightly uncomfortable, "I wasn't looking."

Something very boyish came to his smile and his twinkling eyes as he picked up his suitcase. "Then grant me the pleasure of your company to make up for your mistake, will you?" he asked.

Feeling that she couldn't very well say 'no' - and not really wanting to do so either - Alice finally returned his smile. "Well... I guess I owe you so much."

"You owe me nothing but your name," the young man said gallantly.

"Alice," she said.

He bowed slightly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Alice. My name is Ronald Weasley, but call me Ron," he said, "Where shall we go?"

"There is a nice café just around the corner," she said and made an attempt to pick up her bag.

Ron, however, was faster. "Let me take this."

They made their way to the café, where they took seats near the window and both ordered a Diet Coke.

"Cheers," said Ron, lifting his glass.

"Cheers," Alice repeated, "and thanks for the invitation."

"You're welcome," he said warmly. He took a sip of Coke and his eyes fell on the book Alice had read. "Can I have a look at the book."

"Sure."

He took it and read the title, 'The hidden Society - true witches living amongst us'. "They're missing out the wizards," he stated.

"Pardon?" Alice looked at him slightly confused.

He gestured at the title. "They're only talking about the witches."

"And?" she asked, not truly catching his point.

"Well, there must be wizards too, or how is a society supposed to survive with one gender missing?"

"So you're taking this serious? I mean, you believe in such things as...."

"Magic? Yes. Don't you?"

"I don't know," she said slowly, looking thoughtfully down at the book cover, "I really don't know, if I should believe in a such thing as true magic."

"Maybe one day you'll find out."

Somehow the way he said this made Alice feel comfortable. She smiled at. "I hope I will."

He retorted her smile and an easy silence arose.

After some moments Ron took another sip of his Coke and cleared his voice. "So... do you live in London?"

"Yes. About one and a half year now."

"Studying?"

"Yes. I start this year. I was... held up," she added.

"And what are your major subjects?"

"History, psychology and development of society and chemistry."

"Oh," he said with obvious interest, "And how -"

"Wait a second. I think it's my turn now," Alice stated.

"Well, go on then," Ron said friendly.

"Where are you from?"

"You won't know it. I'm living near a small village called 'Ottery St. Catchpole'"

"You're right," she said, smiling, "I really don't know this place. So what are you doing in London?"

"I'm here for some research."

"On what?"

He smiled charmingly. "That's a secret! But would you like to show me around? I still have to find a place to stay."

Alice felt suddenly very tempted to invite him to her place, but did know better than to do so. He was, nevertheless, a stranger. But the more serious problem was that she had no second bed.... So she nodded simply.

"Sure. Have you anything specific on your mind? A hotel? A youth hostel?"

"Well, no youth hostel - that's for sure! I have been sharing rooms for years. I rather get something for myself now," he explained. "What about the flats here?"

Alice arched an eyebrow. "How long do you want to stay?"

"I don't know. I might stay quite a while."

Thoughtfully, she tipped her lower lip. Ron suddenly felt a slight stab of pain. He thought Alice looked a lot like Hermione, when she did this tipping. Coming to think of it, she did resemble her anyway in some way. Though her hair was a shiny honey blond rather than brown and fell in large, smooth locks on her shoulder, her eyes had the same warm gold sparkling brown shade as Hermione's.

"Would you mind going for a walk with a dog or making the groceries for an old lady once a day?" she asked finally, interrupting his slightly melancholic thoughts.

He shook those thoughts out of his mind and forced a smile. "No, I wouldn't. Why?"

Maybe there was a chance that he stayed at least near her own place....

"I just thought about a place for you. It is near Notting Hill. Very nice."

"But isn't that really expensive? I mean, I don't know much about London, but Notting Hill..."

"Well, it would be expensive," she said, "But I'm living in an three flat house together with an old lady. She owns it and lives in the ground flat. I do live in one of the smaller once on the first floor. The third and last one is free. It costs 300 pound per month."

He looked slightly surprised. "That really isn't expensive. I heard some flats in that area cost that much per week."

"They do." Alice nodded eagerly. "But the old lady only wants to have enough to make a living out of it and a bit of care for her dog and herself. You would have a living room, a bathroom and a small dorm all to yourself and the only room you'd have to share would be the kitchen."

"With you?"

"Yes," she said.

"Okay then," said Ron and stood up, waving for the waitress, "Show me that place and I'll decide."

***

Ron practically fell into his pillows. Today he had been at five different hospitals, asking for all their funny cases in the last two years. Magic had once again proven very practical. The files he couldn't get his hands on with natural charm - not every nurse fell for redheads - he got with a magical one. Nevertheless, he had found nothing indicating that Hermione had been in one of those. No birthday, no name, not even a case with her blood group! Well, he would have to check the other hospitals tomorrow.

He looked at the watch on his bedside table. Half past nine. Sighing, he let his head fell back into the pillows. This was certainly no time to sleep, though he was so very tired. Pulling himself together, he stood up, just as Pigwidgeon swooped into his dorm through the high window.

He smiled at the tiny owl. "Hi mate. Got something for me?"

Pig landed on his outstretched hand, hooting quietly and Ron gave him a dead cricket. Then he loosened the letter from the bird's little leg, put Pig into his cage and sat down on his bed again to read it. It was from Harry.

'Hi Ron,

how are you? Everything is quite fine here. Talitha and me were able to imprison just another former Death Eater only yesterday. Of course, the first thing we did was inquiring him about Hermione, but he knew nothing about her.

The plans for the shop are working out quite well as well.

So what about you? Discovered anything? I'm praying every night that your research shall be more successful than mine was so far. If there's anything I can do for you, tell me.

Your friend, Harry.'

So again nothing!

Ron stood up and put the letter into the drawer of his bedside table, where he took out some sheets and a pen and made his way to the kitchen, where he made himself a cup of strong coffee. Then he took a seat at the kitchen table and began to go through the lists.

Somehow Alice had managed to get him the application lists of most of the colleges of the University of London. He had absolutely no clue, how she had managed and hadn't asked for it either, but invited her to dinner instead. And now he was checking the lists for the third night in a row. Those students he hadn't been able to cross off right away, he had called or even visited. Without success so far.

The door opened silently and Alice entered the kitchen. She watched him for a while and then noticed the long time ready coffee, poured it into a cup and placed it in front of him.

"You should go to bed, don't you think so?" she said as he jerked up from the lists he had already been lying on.

"You're right," he said groggily, granting her an even so such smile.

"So I can have this?" She returned his smile and gestured at his cup.

"Sure." He placed his chin on both his hands, propped up on his elbows and watched her as she took the first sips of coffee.

"Why are you looking at me like this?" she asked curiously after a while, "You're doing so quite often and I don't know what to think about this look."

"You're reminding me of a friend of mine," he said truthfully.

And suddenly Alice began to understand. She looked at the lists, noticing that those, who weren't crossed away all were female and then she looked back at the redhead in front of her.

"It is her you're searching for, isn't it? This... friend of yours."

Ron nodded slightly.

"Was she your girlfriend?"

"Yes she was."

'Wonderful,' Alice thought somewhat bitterly, 'So he only likes me, for I'm resembling his lost love. Why else....' Nevertheless, she smiled at him. "I really hope you will find her. If I can help you again, just tell so." She stood up from the table. "I've got to go now. I am on nightshift tonight. Go and catch yourself some sleep. There will be fresh rolls waiting for you tomorrow morning," she said.

"Thank you. Good night!"

"Good night!"

Alice closed the door behind her and leaned on it. When she heard Ron's door close too, she sighed and prayed silently, "Oh God! Don't let me have lied to him, when I told him that I hope he'll find her!"

***

Ron had checked all the hospitals and even some of the private practices, the colleges and most police stations by now. Today he spent his third afternoon in the archive of one of the most famous Londoner gossip papers, checking for anything indicating the use of magic in London. He had checked all indications back with the Ministry of Magic and all of them had proven to be known and completely solved cases.

He sighed and shut the last file. Thanking the archivist for her help and patience, he said his farewells and left the archive for the street, where he found himself in the bright sunlight. He hadn't really noticed before, what a wonderfully bright day it was. He decided on rather taking the bus than the tube to the nearest hospital, where he wanted to get a list of al donation of blood stations that weren't in any of the Londoner hospitals. This idea had come to his mind yesterday night, when Pig had delivered a letter from Draco.

Ron jumped on one of the busses, as it stopped at a traffic light, showed his ticket and took a window seat. Then he took out the letter and read it once again.

''Lo Ron,

since you haven't been writing for about three weeks now, I thought I could check whether you're still alive or not. Ginny said you're certainly just busy. Well, she will be right - as almost always. She is well, if you want to know. Her job at the kindergarten seems to be nice and Witch Weekly printed some of her designs. She'll probably start concentrating on dresses completely, wants to become a dressmaker.

I am fine too. I think the company will work out quite well....

Well... I miss you. Today I got scratched at the cheek by one of the company owls and as the blood dripped down on the floor and I touched my finger to the wound and it came away crimson again, I had to think of... well, you know. I hope you'll find her soon, so you can come back and are happy again. I (and here Ron saw, because of the vast inkblot, that Draco had paused rather long) do not only miss you and her, moreover I miss the Ron you've been, before she vanished.

If you've got some minutes spare, write back. Draco'

When he had thought back to the time Draco was referring to in the letter, the idea had come to his mind. This was probably just the very thing Hermione would do.... Probably.

Ron put the letter carefully back into the envelop.

'I do miss you too, Dray,' he thought, 'And I'm grateful that you understand that I must find her to be myself again.'

He truly did miss his friends, his family and his home very much. London was a wonderful city - even the Muggle part of it - it, however, could be somewhat depressing, being without the ones you love in a foreign place and having absolutely no success in what you're trying to find.

Nevertheless, the young wizard was very thankful that he had met Alice on his very first day in London. She was very kind and lovely and had been a real help so far and he really liked spending time with her, though it somehow hurt him to look into those oddly familiar eyes. He suddenly wondered, if he ever had told her so. Well, he would go home early today and cook for her. They would spend a nice evening together. He could do with one evening off.

Ron left the bus, made his way to the hospital and picked up the list, he had already ordered. Then he started to scour the donation stations. The first two hadn't had a donation of blood group 0 negative for the past two years. At the third and last, however, they had had three of it. Since it was strictly forbidden to give away the names of the donators, Ron once again had to hex a nurse, but in the end he got copies of the files. Looking at the gender, he threw away two of them before even leaving the station and pocketed only the third.

In a bus again, on his way home he examined it more closely.

'Gender: female, Birthday: January 1^st 1980, Age: ap. 20,'

''ap'? What's that supposed to mean,' he wondered.

'Blood group: 0-, Diseases: none,'

'Where the hell, is the name?!' Ron flew over the file and found the name at the bottom next to the signature and the date of the last donation.

'Surname: Smith, Firstname: Alice'

Well, this most certainly wasn't Hermione, but this could be his Alice. He noticed only now that he didn't even know her surname. He pocketed the file again, when he left the bus, then went home, asked the old lady, whether she needed anything, for he was going out to buy some food, took her list and a basket and made his way to the nearest supermarket.

When he returned, he stored the old lady's food in one of her kitchen cupboards and was just about to make his way upstairs, when he remembered something and turned back to her.

"Madam," he said, "Could you tell me Alice's surname?"

The old lady smiled. "Of course, I can. It's Smith."

He returned her smile. "Thank you very much."

"You're welcome," she said and picked up her book again.

As Alice was scheduled to come at seven o'clock and it was already six, Ron immediately started cooking. And her timing was perfect! The very minute he had finished everything and laid the table properly, he heard water running in her bathroom and mere moments after the sound had stopped, he heard her coming over to the kitchen.

"Wait a moment," he said, just as she was about to open the door.

He went over to the window, shut the heavy curtains and switched off the light. After he had regained his own orientation, he said, "Please switch off the light in the corridor." He heard a little click.

"Done," she said with obvious curiosity in her voice.

He opened the door and she was blinded by the darkness in the kitchen, when he led her in and to a chair at the laid table. "What are you doing?" she asked. Ron could hear her smile.

"You'll see," he said. Only when he took out the seat opposite her, he noticed that he had forgotten the matchbox. Thinking that she wanted to see some magic anyway, he took out his wand, pointed it at the five candles and whispered, "Enflamare!" And in no time at all, he had pocketed it again.

Alice made an astonished sound. "How... how did you do this?"

Ron grinned in a slightly boyish fashion. "Well, I cooked it."

"No. I mean... the candles. It looked as if one candle led the flame to the next," she said, still looking fascinated at the little light spots.

He leaned somewhat forward. "Magic!" he whispered.

She looked away from the candles and into his sparkling eyes, smiling. He knew she wouldn't ask further. Not now. He made a wave at the plates of tomato cream soup. "Shall we begin?"

"Yes, of course. It looks delicious," she said, "To what do I owe the honour of all this?"

"Just for being a really good friend." He twinkled and they began to eat.

They had a bit of light conversation about her college courses and about his again unsuccessful day in the archive and London. After the soup, Ron served slices of turkey with basmati rice, spring vegetables and a light sauce.

Then he took out two wine glasses. "Wait a moment, before you start. I've searched for this in many different shops," he said, as he went to the fridge and took out a bottle filled with a liquid in a strange shade of orange. He poured a bit of it into both glasses.

Alice took her glass and examined it carefully. "What is it?"

"Pumpkin juice. Something very familiar at home."

"I thought you're British."

"I am," he said, hoping she wouldn't want further explanations.

Luckily she didn't, but drank some of the juice instead. "I like it," she said after putting the glass down again, "It tastes strange, yet oddly familiar...," she added somewhat thoughtfully as if trying to remember something.

"I'm glad you like it," said Ron, smiling at her. The way she had carefully sipped at the glass and kept the first bit of juice in her mouth to get the full taste of it had once again reminded him of Hermione. Yet this time, he felt no pain about it. "I hope you like the food as well."

She did! They finished the dinner with a fresh salad of red fruits served with a single bowl of vanilla ice cream. Ron had proven to be totally right: she was exactly the strawberry-vanilla type of person.

"I think it's a good thing that you donate blood," Ron said completely out of the blue. The crimson shade of a drop of strawberry juice at the corner of Alice's mouth had made him think of it again.

"How do you know?" she asked more than mildly surprised.

"I've examined the donation stations today. Hermione's got the rarest blood group there is - 0 negative - so I thought this could be a clue. And since you've got the same blood group, I came across your file. I didn't even know your surname 'till then. Smith... it's a rather usual name, isn't it?"

"It's a no one's name," she said slightly bitterly. She obviously didn't like that subject, though Ron couldn't really guess why.

"Why don't you have your name written on the mailbox?" he asked in a clumsy attempt to change the subject.

"I don't get mail," she stated simply, "And the little I get is through the old lady."

Despite himself knowing better, Ron, who really couldn't imagine why Alice seemed to have no friends, couldn't help asking, "Why? What about your family? Your friends?"

Something sad dulled her warm brown eyes. "I don't remember much of my parents," she said truthfully, "and -" She paused. Then, "I don't want to talk about it. Not at an evening as wonderful as this." She forced a smile.

Ron, who really couldn't bear seeing a beloved person being sad, truly had to force himself not to take her into his arms, but he knew this would probably make her cry and most certainly she wouldn't like crying in front of him right now. Instead he made himself a promise to care for her as long as he was in London and to keep contact afterwards.

When the time was right, she would tell him about what made her sad now.

***

Next weekend Ron took the Oxford tube to Oxford. He didn't truly think he would find Hermione there, but if she would choose another place near London it was very likely either Oxford or Cambridge.

He left the house early in the morning and since it was weekend, both Alice and the old lady were still asleep. He went and bought some fresh, warm rolls, fruits and milk and placed some of it on both kitchen tables. Then he put a charm on Alice's rolls to keep them warm and a little note next to them, saying, 'Still warm? It's magic!'

Looking back just once, he began to make his way to the tube. During his stay on the bus, he read in one of his medicine books. As he had wanted ever since his fifth or sixth year at Hogwarts, he had become a mediwizard. And, as Hermione had once predicted, he was good at it. Next to searching Hermione with Harry and everybody else, he had absolved his one year basic training and had worked at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes for a living.

But in the wizarding world your training as a mediwizard was never really finished. And Ron had always thought that there was certainly something they could also learn from the Muggles. Consequently he had asked Alice to bring along some medicine books for him, when she had left for the library the other day and she had brought a choice of books, one of which he was now holding in his hands. It read, 'Natural Medicine - what we today can learn from the vanished civilizations of the past.' When he opened the book, he saw a yellow note, one of this Muggle notes, that stick to the place they were lain upon.

'I knew you would choose this one first. I've read it too and I liked it very much. Enjoy your trip to Oxford and try to relax for once. Alice'

The redhead smiled and put the note away in his purse.

Doing as he was told, he used only Saturday for research and Sunday he took a train to a nearby town and visited a falconry. He enjoyed seeing those birds of prey take wing in the early autumn wind and took a deep breath, feeling more alive than he had felt for a long time, for once doing something only for himself.

At the souvenir shop belonging to the falconry he bought a silver brooch the shape of a swift. Then he made his way through a field full of ripening ears back to the train station and took his train back to Oxford and when he fell asleep that night in his hotel bed he for once in a long time felt at ease.

As Alice was just about to leave the house at Monday noon - Ron was supposed to be back only in the early evening - she remembered just in time to look for the old lady's mail. She took the three or four pieces she found in the letter box, knocked and entered the old lady's flat, when told to come in.

"Hello," she said.

"Hello Alice," came the answer. The old lady was knitting something and didn't look up until Alice placed the mail directly in front of her.

"Here is your mail."

"Thank you." She put the needles aside and checked her mail.

Alice was about to leave, when the old lady held her back. "This piece isn't for me. It's for you," she stated. She held out a postcard to the slightly surprised girl, who took it with a muttered 'thanks' and shut the door behind her.

She looked at the card in her hand. It showed a somewhat wild park with a small river with several small houseboats on it and a cat trotting along the roofs of the boats. Then she turned it around and read it.

'Hi Alice,

This is the park here in Oxford. Isn't it beautiful? It's a home to many of the poorer people living here, but when I saw them they seemed happy with the few things they had. The most important and precious things as shelter, food and... friends. All the things you've got too. If you ask me, it's time that you put your name on the letter box. Ron'

***

Slowly Ron was running out of not only time and money, but ideas and hope. Another week was gone, during which he had checked all libraries and another paper archive.

Tears of exhaustion and rising hopelessness in his eyes, he lay down on his bed and buried his face in his pillows. After a couple of minutes he turned around again, his eyes dry, yet slightly red.

"I don't know what to do anymore," he said silently, "I miss you, Mione... I mean, I know it was you, who... well... somehow told me to come here. But now I've tried anything and I still haven't found you. Can't you help me once again? It's so hard sometimes."

"Ron?"

Ron jerked up and was at the door in no time at all. "Herm - oh... it's you Alice," he said, desperately trying not to show his disappointment and that he really had thought... only for a moment...

She smiled at him sympathetically. "Of course, it's me. I'm the only one else living at this floor." It was only then that she noticed the fine trace of dried tears on his cheek. Instinctively, she reached up to touch it. "Ron, have you -" But the very moment her finger touched his skin, she felt something rush through her body that forcefully she had to pull away again immediately. 'What was that?' She breathed hard. For a moment she really had thought, she had felt his feelings!

"Alice? What's the matter with you?" Ron demanded eagerly. The girl in front of him had paled and was currently supporting herself at the doorframe. He made an attempt to feel her forehead.

"Don't!" she claimed. Then, "I'm... fine. I just felt dizzy for a moment."

"Really?" Ron knew that she lied, but could do nothing but ask again.

"Yes. I'm fine," she repeated.

The former Gryffindor looked at her for one more moment, then said, "Okay, but tell me, if you feel like this again, will you?"

"Yes, of course."

"So, what did you came for?"

"Oh, yes, I almost forgot. I've cooked and I wanted to ask, if you want to join. I think it's enough for two."

***

'Hi Draco,

I think I'll return very soon. I'm running out of ideas and the hospital asked, when I will continue my work, so I think they too want me to return. I'll probably stay one more week.

Give Gin a kiss from me. And... well... one to you too. Miss you. Ron'

Ron had no idea what else to write, so he tied the letter to Pig's leg and let him fly. He watched the bird until it was out of view, then, feeling a little homesick, he went to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of pumpkin juice.

Sitting at the kitchen table, he heard music coming out of Alice's room and listened. Somehow it was very catching.

'Be a man

We must be swift as the coursing river

Be a man

With all the force of a great typhoon

Be a man

With all the strength of a raging fire

Mysterious as the dark side of the moon'

He stood up and knocked at her door, curious to know, what sort of song this was. Alice opened the door a pen in her hand. She was wearing tight jeans shorts, a plain anthracite t-shirt and neither socks nor shoes, her hair tied up to a pony tail.

"I'm sorry," she said, "Is the music to loud."

"No." Ron smiled, as he looked down to her bare, jiggling feet. "I only wanted to know, what exactly you're listening to. I like it, but I've never heard it before."

"It's a Disney medley," she stated simply.

Was he supposed to know what 'Disney' is? Hoping he wouldn't reveal his lack of knowledge about the Muggle world, he asked carefully, "Um... And what exactly is 'Disney'?"

Alice's eyes widened and Ron knew immediately that he would have been supposed to know what it is. But now the damage was done and he waited for the answer.

"You're kidding, aren't you?" the girl asked finally, still with obvious disbelieve.

"No," he said. Slowly the situation became slightly embarrassing.

"Well, Disney is probably the most famous cartoon company and - you've never seen a Disney film?"

"No." She looked at him still sceptical and he bit his lower lip, as if waiting for judgement.

"Then I think it's time. We'll rent one," she said, "Wait a moment, I have to change."

She hurried back into her room and by the time Ron had pulled over a cerulean jumper - his mother had finally noticed that blue was much more his colours than any shade of maroon - and tied his shoes, she had changed into a long jeans, which was falling over her shoes.

"Let's go," she said and took his hand, jerking slightly as she did so.

After she had discovered this... thing about being able to feel what he felt, she had tried to have bodily contact with him more often to learn to control this and find out what it actually was. Consequently they were accidentally reaching out for the same roll, when having breakfast together or brushing, when both prepared food in the kitchen. She hadn't told him about this so far, but was now almost positive that she was able to sense his exact emotions. The easiest way was in touching him, but with some concentration it was even possible without.

Out on the road she let go of his hand and they walked silently side by side, making their way to the nearest video centre. When the redhead glanced at the girl, he saw her shiver and inwardly shook his head.

"You know, this isn't very smart," he said, "Going out in a short sleeved t-shirt in the middle of October."

"I know. I simply forgot. I was already thinking about which film to choose." Then she saw, how he wordlessly pulled of his jumper. "No," she said, "I mean, no. It was me being stupid. That doesn't mean that you have to be cold."

But he gave her his jumper, somehow making clear that he wouldn't take it back.

"I won't be cold. At least I am wearing something with sleeves underneath."

Alice looked at the jumper in her hands. "Thanks," she muttered.

"You're welcome." He smiled at her warmly.

If she could bottle this smile and drink it, she certainly wouldn't need a jumper, but as she couldn't she pulled it over. His scent was caught in it....

They continued their way, as she looked down at herself. Of course, the jumper was two sizes to big, but it didn't look bad at all - somehow very protective. Then she discovered his initials knitted in small white letters on the place, where a breast pocket would have been, if this wasn't a jumper.

"This jumper was made for you?" she asked.

"Yes, my mum knitted it for me last Christmas," he explained, "She does so almost every year. Or at least she used to, but now that we're all grown up she might slow down to one every two or three years."

"And does she also always knit your initials in those annual jumpers?"

"Yes." Ron smiled to himself. "I think that's a habit she picked up because of my twin brothers. They're very alike. They used to fool around a lot even with her."

"You've got a big family, haven't you?"

"Yeah, I have. I've got five elder brothers, a younger sister and already two little nephews and a nice, who was born only four month ago."

They both fell silent again, Ron thinking of his family and Alice thinking what it would feel like to have a family like his. And suddenly he reached for her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. She gave him a sideward glance, but he wasn't looking. For a moment she wondered, whether he was thinking of her, only sensing that he currently felt at ease. Nevertheless, she didn't pull away. Even if he was thinking of this Hermione person at the moment, who actually was beside him wasn't that lost one, but herself. And it felt right, whether it was so or not.

He only let go of her hand, when they entered the centre.

"So these are the Disneys," Alice stated, as they stood in front of the shelves, "Which one shall we take?"

Ron looked sceptically at the videos. He hadn't seen many movies yet anyway, probably five in his entire life, and he had seen no animated film at all. There were some with animals, such as bears and lions, that had very human expressions on their faces. Then there was one with a couple sitting on a magic carpet - well, this was more realistic than humanlike animals. The next had a beautiful girl and a beast on the cover - was this supposed to be a werewolf or something alike?! Muggles! And that mermaid was also very different from what he got to know once....

"Which one was the song taken from I heard?" he asked finally.

"Mulan. It's about an old Chinese legend."

"And did you like that one?"

"Yes, I did. I saw it about one year ago, when it was video released. But I liked it very much."

"Shall we take it then?" He looked at the back of the video. Well, at least this dragon resembled a Chinese Fireball - though a very small and pitiful one.

"Okay." She reached out for the little chip on the shelve, went to the cash desk, managed the thing with her video card and when she was about to pay, Ron did a tiny little bit faster. Sighing, she pocketed her money again.

They made their way back home, where Alice changed into her shorts again, yet kept the jumper on.

When Ron returned to her living room he was tagging his cover along with him and was wearing nothing but a rather long t-shirt and boxers. He looked down at himself and then at her. "Does it bother you?"

"Um, no," she said truthfully. 'So much about the 'boxers or briefs' questions,' she thought.

They took a seat on the floor, leaning against her sofa and began to watch the video. The film hadn't even started and Ron had already spread his cover over Alice as well as himself.

'So this is a 'Disney',' Ron thought, 'Quite a lot of music in it, but it somehow feels an awful lot like home.'

Luckily he went nowhere without his wand, so, when Alice was concentrating completely on the movie, he could easily summon the bottle of pumpkin juice and two glasses. He poured juice into both glasses and offered one to Alice.

"How did you get those?" she asked wide-eyed.

He shrugged and grinned. "Magic."

She looked at him more closely. "You know, I slowly think I believe you. When you left me that rolls once I didn't eat all three and when I wanted to eat the remaining one in the evening, it was still warm. You aren't kidding, are you?"

"Maybe. Let's watch the movie, shall we?"

And they did. After that Chinese girl sang something about not truly being herself, Ron raised his voice again. "Ever felt like this? I mean, do you sometimes have the feeling to be... well, incomplete or not yourself?" he asked. Somehow this song made him think of Draco's letter: 'I miss the Ron you've been....'

"Yes," she said, "Yes, most days I feel like this." She fell into a silence, stating that she had said something she hadn't wanted to.

This time Ron knew, which hand he was taking under the cover, as he heard her taking a sharp breath, when he did so.

With another breathtaking music the Chinese girl prepared herself to leave her home, taking her fathers place, with that fake dragon by her side.

She had to bear a rather harsh training and Ron recognised the song he had heard earlier that day. And at the end of the song the girl had manage the task the male protagonist had given her.

"This is the thing about Disney," Alice explained, "It always says, 'If you try hard enough, you can achieve everything.'"

"Do you believe in this?"

Well, with his fingers still intertwined with hers, she actually could, but otherwise...

"I don't know."

"So it's the same as with magic?"

He turned to face her, this time wanting to not only hear, but see the answer.

"No, it's...," she began. Their faces, however, had come too close. Alice didn't know, whether it was him or her closing the distance, but before she could form an answer, their lips met.

This was gorgeous! She felt not only her, but his emotion melting together in that kiss. And it felt right. He tasted slightly like pumpkin juice and something else oddly familiar and the way he was holding her head was... well... simply gorgeous.

But then something else was entering this mix of wonderful feelings. Like slow poison. Confusion. Doubt! Alice new immediately that this feelings were his, not hers. She knew this was right! But before she could even inwardly cry, 'No! Don't!', he had pulled away, looking at her as if scared of what he just had done.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment of catching himself again, "I didn't mean to, I -"

"Don't! Don't say you're sorry. It felt right!" Alice said.

"Yes. - No! I can't!"

"Why?"

"You know quite well why!" Ron said slightly bitter. He was standing by now.

Not wanting to give him a chance to flee without an explanation, Alice stood up too.

"But you've tried everything to find her! She could be dead for all you know!"

"No!" the redhead said much louder than he had intended to, "No! She's alive! I know she is. I... I've got to go."

Alice couldn't believe what happened. This was going so horribly and obviously wrong. When she followed him into his room, however, she felt very weak and defeated.

"Where are you going?"

"Youth Hostel," he said shortly, still in his boxer shorts, putting his most important belongings into his backpack.

She smiled bitterly. "So you want to leave me so urgently that you prefer sleeping in one of those, although you dislike them, although you've got an apartment you like?"

Ron stopped in his movement, very tempted to turn around to her, but did know better than to look in those eyes right now.

"It's not your fault. It's entirely mine," he said.

"I know it is not my fault, but what exactly is your fault?"

He pulled his jeans on and changed his t-shirt for the white one he had worn before, than he searched for his cerulean jumper until he remembered.... He took a dark green one instead, made a grab for his backpack and finally turned to Alice again, who was leaning at the doorframe, looking partly less miserable than he himself felt.

"That I fell for you," he said, looking in her eyes one painful more time. And a mere minute later he was gone.

Alice stared at the door, not believing that he truly had left her. Not believing that it had ended - before it had even really begun. She sank down to the floor and buried her face in her sleeve covered hands, feeling more miserable than she ever had felt as far as she could think back, yet unable to cry.

'Why have I done this?' she asked herself, 'Why have I let him enter my life? I am so foolish....' She straightened up and pushed her hair out of her face, looking once again at the door. 'I guess, I really have thought I had found a piece of myself through him....'

***

Once outside the house in Notting Hill, Ron had no idea where to go. He felt as if time had stopped and had made it impossible for him to move. Knowing that he had to go forth to overcome this awkward moment, he forced himself to make the first step. Then a second and a third and he saw his surroundings slowly pass by until he finally reached the bus station.

He took the first bus that would come and left it only at its final stop. Victoria Station. Despite the late hour the station and the streets around were still crowded. Well, it was Friday and though the regular shops were closed, of course, the pups and restaurants were still open. So were some smaller bookshops and supermarkets, providing the travellers with food and paperbacks for their weekend trips. Ron saw the people pass by - families, couples and singles probably heading back to their beloved ones for the weekend. Ron would have loved to go home too, yet since the shops in Diagon Alley were already closed and he knew no other connecting fireplaces, he couldn't. He could have apparated, of course, yet, knowing himself in such moody states only too well, he didn't dare to right now - it wouldn't work out the way it should and getting splinched would do the situation no good.

Consequently he banished all thoughts of home and made his way over to the small tourist information, asking for the nearest Hotels and Youth Hostels and after having received a decent way description, he left for Belgrave Road. What he couldn't banish, however, was her picture in his mind - the honey blond hair, the gold sparkling brown eyes, the slightly rare, yet ever so beautiful smile. He could still feel her warmth and her still vivid, delicate taste on his lips threatened to drive him insane. And so did his bad conscience. For a moment he thought of what he had done to Alice.... Then again he thought of Hermione.

'How could I fell for another girl but her?' he asked himself silently.

Right then he passed a video centre. The redhead stopped and looked through the window for a moment before he entered.

***

Alice wondered if she probably had a strange tendency to masochism - why else would she be sitting in his room, wearing his jumper and drinking his pumpkin juice? Realising that this certainly didn't help the situation, she forced herself to get up and made her way back to the room. The video had already stopped and rewound and on the TV screen was nothing but greyish snow. She sat down on the floor and tried to find the last scene she had paid attention too - the song in the camp.

***

Having not borrowed but purchased the video, Ron decided on rather checking in a hotel than a Youth Hostel to be sure he would have access to a TV and a video player. The receptionist of the little hotel was kind enough to explain to him, how to use both, though she gave him a pointed glance at first.

After she had left, he fell down on the bed. 'I am such an idiot! As if this video would make me forget her.' Then a tiny voice added in his mind, 'As if anything would do right now!'

He stood up and put the video into the player and began to scan for the last scene he remembered. This time as the male protagonist sang to the soldiers, Ron felt strangely addressed, filtering only sentences such as 'You're the saddest bunch I've ever met!' and 'You're a spineless, pale pathetic lot!'. He really did feel a nothing worthy bit of filth, though he had no idea, how he could have prevented it. He felt as if he had betrayed Hermione and Alice just the same. Yet at the same time he felt as if he had been truly whole himself for the first time since the former had been missing.

'Damn it! Buying this video really had been a stupid idea!'

***

Alice didn't noticed that the situation in her room didn't vary much from the one in his: here she still wore his jumper, was covered by his cover and watched the video he had paid for. One way or the other she was reminded of him constantly.

When Mulan finally was discovered to be a girl, after she had got hurt whilst rescuing Shang and the other soldiers, Shang left her back in the mountains, disappointed that she hadn't been what he had thought her to be. Hadn't he, nevertheless, liked her as a person?

And again she thought of Ron. He had left the second he had realised again, the girl he was kissing wasn't this Hermione person. But didn't he like me for myself?

'I know he loves me. I could feel it! Why then...?' She shook her head - this was leading nowhere!

She watched the movie until in the end Mulan rescued China and finally got her 'prince'!

'Nonsense!' Alice thought. She went to bed, having put the TV on timer, and fell asleep hearing some boys sing, 'You must be true to your heart.'

***

Ron finished the movie and listened to the songs in the end. As he lay down to sleep he still couldn't get Alice out of his head. He missed her. Would he be able to face her, when he'd have to pick up his things? He could do this, when she was at work, of course, but.... Deep down in his heart he knew that he wanted to see her again.

He rolled onto one side and curled up. 'Forgive me, Hermione, but I'll go back to her tomorrow. I love her as much as I do love you and I don't want to be without both of you! I couldn't bear it....'

The next morning he made his way back to Notting Hill. Yet when he arrived home, Alice wasn't there. He went down again and knocked at the old lady's door.

"You can enter. It's not locked."

"Good morning, Misses."

"Good morning, Ronald. So you came back, I see...," said the old lady in a voice, that's meaning Ron couldn't decipher.

Consequently he just nodded and said, "Yes, I did. Can you tell me, where I do find Alice?"

"No, I can't," she answered, "Would you like to have breakfast with me as long as you wait for her to return?"

"I -," Ron began, yet the old lady interrupted.

"I'm inviting you."

Well, this wasn't hard to miss! If she wanted to talk to him, he couldn't very well say no. So instead he said, "Thank you," and sat down at the table, which was already laid. For two? Well.... Ron didn't ask why.

"We didn't have much chance to get to know each other yet," she stated, pouring tea in two cups, "You've got to be a very special person."

Ron felt awkward, but tried to keep up a polite facade. "Um... thanks. What, however, makes you think so?"

"Well, you are the first person Alice brought here, since she first came here," she said, "You must be someone special then. She was always very careful concerning other people. This is, of course, understandable for someone, who hasn't long ago lost her memory."

Ron's eyes widened. "She has what?" he gasped.

The old lady smiled inexplicably. "So she hasn't told you, has she?"

***

For obvious reason, Alice hadn't felt truly well, when she woke up, she, however, did know better than to moan in bed and therefore had left the house early. She had bought some rolls for the old lady, grabbed one herself and had left with the video, the roll and a minidisk player in a small backpack to jog until the video centre would open.

But this time neither the fresh air nor the music really eased her head and when she finally returned the video, she had the feeling that even the video man gave her a funny look as if wondering why she was all alone this time.

When she came back home, she heard the old lady talk to someone and she... sensed this someone to be Ron. She still felt somehow odd about all this sensing thing, but knew she could rely on it. Well, he certainly was about to tell her that he would leave the flat today. As silently as she could, she made her way upstairs. She didn't want to see him now. One parting was more then enough - two would be more than she felt able to bear at the moment.

In her apartment she brought her CD player into her bathroom, laid down her clothes, turned the volume button far right and stepped into the shower. As the water was running down her body, washing away the fresh sweat - and the last scent of him - and the loud powerful music was filling the small room, mixing in her ears with the rushing stream, some hot tears finally escaped her eyes. And sadness began to mix with stubbornness and strong determination. Alice felt angry with herself for falling for him, angry with him for returning her feelings, when he knew, he wouldn't stay, but most of all angry with herself for not being able to kill this feeling now right away.

She tried to wash away the heat that was speeding up her chest and her body and began to breath slowly trough the curtains of water all around her head.

"I think she has returned," said the old lady to Ron, interrupting her own tale, "Do you hear the music?"

"Yes." Ron stood up eagerly. He was very excited by what the old lady had told him. If it was true.... "Thank you a lot, Misses. I'll go up and talk to her."

"Do so," said the old lady and took up her cup to finish her tea. She watched Ron leave and smiled.

Ron took the stairs very fast. He couldn't remember, when he had last felt so tensed, agitated, anxious and... hopeful all together.

He entered the kitchen, that was the only link between his flat and hers, and went over to Alice's door. When he knocked the door opened - she hadn't locked. He went in. Just the very moment the music stopped abruptly and Alice left the bathroom. She wore a towel around her body, her hair pinned up loosely to a bun and carried the CD player in one and a comb in the other hand, seeming not aware of Ron standing dumbfounded in her corridor.

The redhead, however, followed her without a sound. And it was only when she had put the player down on its place and stood in front of the mirror that she spotted him leaning at the doorframe. Yet she had noticed him earlier, of course.

"Your jumper is on the cupboard over there. It's washed and dried," she said with as much indifference as she could muster, "Thanks again. Would you leave now? I want to get dressed." With some ease she noticed that she sounded much more confident that she felt. Why did he have to come back to see her? Did he want to torture her or did he just not know that he did?

"I didn't come back for the jumper," said Ron. His hands trembled slightly.

Alice couldn't help a sudden glimpse of hope rushing though her body. It was so very easy to continue the sentence with 'I came for you'.

She tensed somewhat. 'You know that's not what he's going to say!' she lectured herself. And truly he didn't. Actually he said nothing. One didn't need Alice's special sense to tell that Ron was somehow trouble. And despite herself Alice drew some satisfaction out of this fact.

Finally she turned around to face not only his reflection but himself. He was watching her every movement as if never having seen her quite right before. What was going on with that guy?

Now she was facing him and Ron didn't know what to say. Her gold sparkling brown eyes seemed duller than usual and looked at him wonderingly.

"What are you thinking?" he asked after several silent moments.

"I'm wondering why you came back," she repeated, although this wasn't quite true. She knew by know that at least, he did miss her. She knew by now that he came back for her.

"Because I fell for you. I couldn't forget about you."

This was too easy. "Well, you haven't tried hard, have you?"

"It didn't take me long to figure out that I can't," said Ron. He lessened the distance between them reluctantly until it was so small, he could have touched her easily, if he only reached out for her. She didn't drew back.

Alice forced her breath to remain steady and calm. "How will I know that you won't leave me someday soon again?"

"How can a man ever promise what's not in his power to say? I can only tell that I don't have the intention to hurt you a second time." With this the redhead extended his left hand. "I can understand, however, if you don't trust my words, but I hope you can still trust yourself. Aline your fingers with mine."

'Does he know I can sense his feelings?'

He didn't know for sure. Ron gulped, nervously waiting with his outstretched hand. If she believed him, after touching his fingers... if she sensed his feelings for her..., she...

The young wizard closed his eyes.

Alice extended her hand to his. She lied her fingertips against his one by one and then the whole palm of her hand. And she felt what he did. She felt his nervousness, his hope, his regret, his honesty and... she felt his love for her. It was the most wonderful thing she had ever felt as far as she could remember.

She turned her fingers slightly aside and intertwined them with his. "I believe you," she said gently.

When Ron opened his eyes again they were full of relief and a green sparkle of hope flashed in the everlasting blue. He reached with his other hand for a strand of her blond hair. He looked at it closely. It was very shiny in the bright room. Then he looked up into her eyes again.

"Dyed?"

Abashed by the sudden change of subject - and what an unromantic change it was too - it took Alice a moment before she could reply. "Yes, they are."

She could sense that some sort of confidence grow inside of him.

He closed the distance between them, never releasing her right hand as if to give her constant reassurance, and pushed her hair aside at the left side of her neck and bend forward to look at something. He passed his fingers over the skin underneath her ear. Alice shivered slightly at his light touch and at the same time all Ron's nervousness was gone, leaving only excitement and happiness. He drew back and looked at her face again.

"Still want to see some magic?"

Even more of it?

"Yes," she whispered unable to think of anything else.

The wizard reached for the wand in his pocket, while Alice followed his every movement curiously.

"Ron, what is -"

"Shush," he made and pointed his wand at her head. Her eyes widened slightly, yet he increased the pressure on her hand reassuringly. "Don't fear." And then, "Enervate Oblivio!"

Alice jerked as the spell rushed through her head and body. She stumbled into Ron's arms, where she remained still for several moments, the only thing indicating her being alive being her heavily rising and falling chest.

When her breath calmed down again, Ron loosened his hand from hers and pulled back far enough to look into her eyes. Gently he passed some fingers through the stream of warm tears on her face.

"I've searched for you so long," he whispered, then pulled her back into his arms.

Hermione held on to him as hard as she could. She didn't know how long afterwards. Nor did she know how long they kissed after she finally released him. The only thing she knew, when she woke up the next day was that it had already been dawn, when she had fallen asleep in his arms and that he had watched her sleep as he had watched out for her the better part of her life - as he would do forever more.

***