You Must Remember This

The skies over London threatened snow and the wind was bitingly cold. Not an unusual occurrence for this time of year, but the wizard swore at himself for forgetting to wear his hat and gloves or at the very least a scarf. Conjuring something could draw an unfortunate amount of attention to him, as the streets were crowded with Christmas shoppers and watchful Aurors. He was supposed to be back at the office, not out roaming the streets in the middle of the day. He settled for hurrying into the nearest pub to grab a quick something for the chill in his fingers.

The Leaky Cauldron was warm inside, but it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. As he made his way to the bar, he caught snippets of conversations among the patrons. "I'm telling you," a man said, "whatever it was, they're all in a flurry to get it back. And it's very hush-hush, they don't want anyone to know -" the voice faded as he passed out of range, overtaken by another. " - daft prick thinks he's so much better than me. Can't meet his parents, nearly a year together now but he won't admit -" He pushed his way round a pair of dark-haired young women, chattering in a rapid-fire mix of German and broken English, tightly clutching their overflowing shopping bags. He caught the eye of the barmaid, who smiled broadly in recognition.

"Tea, please."

She turned, soft red hair falling away from her face as she reached up for a mug. "Nippy out?" she called back over her shoulder.

"It's bloody frigid. Ta, Gin." The steaming mug warmed his hands as he blew across the surface of the liquid, watching the tendrils of steam curl up toward the ceiling.

"Aren't you supposed to be working?" She nodded toward the collar of his Ministry uniform, peeking out from under his cloak. "You're not usually about this early."

He grinned. "I had something to take care of at home. I only stepped out for a bit - it's not like they'll even notice I was gone."

"Oh, you don't think they all notice when the big boss is out of the office? They're tap dancing on their desks right now." She leaned across the bar and grinned lasciviously. "So, taking care of the little woman? Gonna be the first to make Mum a granny?"

He blushed in spite of himself, but chuckled. "Well, you know. It takes a lot of practice to make a baby."

She shook her head. "You and Hermione, parents ... it's a scary thought."

"Hey, nobody's more scared about it than me," he answered. But he knew he must look happy, because his sister's glowing smile could only have been reflected back from his own face.

Their touching family moment was interrupted by a tug at his sleeve. "Chief Weasley, Sir." He turned to find Auror Johnson at his side. "There's been an urgent owl for you from the French Ministry of Magic. I went by your house, but your wife said you'd already started back." Ron frowned. Drat his nosy secretary. That woman could find him in under half an hour, even if he was in the Wizard Protection Program.

Johnson handed him a rolled up parchment bearing the official seal of the French Ministry. "Thank you," Ron said brusquely. "I'll just finish up this last bit of official business, and I'll be there straightaway."

"Yes, Sir." Johnson saluted, spun on his heel, and trotted out of the tavern.

Ginny quirked an eyebrow. "Official business?"

"Officially freezing my arse off." Grinning, he dropped a handful of coins on the bar and downed his almost-too-hot tea in one gulp, then bade his sister farewell as he trudged back out into the streets. As he walked, he opened the letter and began to read.

After the first few lines, he stopped short in the middle of the street, his eyes growing wide. Ignoring the angry glances of pedestrians who staggered to avoid running over him, Ron focused his full attention on the parchment. After he finished reading, he folded the paper and tucked it away inside his cloak.

"Well, well," he said, to no one in particular. "Looks like it's time to go and visit an old friend."