The Man With The Golden Wand

Chapter 3: Damn, That Hurts

I woke up to the sounds of Van Morrison blasting over a radio. I distinctly heard the words "Brown Eyed Girl" before I groaned and turned over. Not again.

"Look, Hermione, if you wanted to get me into bed, all you had to do was ask," I groaned in her direction. "You didn´t have to knock me unconscious again. I think I´m going to end up with permanent brain damage."

"I didn´t hit you, you stupid git," said Hermione´s muffled voice. "You got so smashed that you hit your head and fell unconscious. Neil´s friends delivered you to me and suggested I take you home. Since I didn´t know where you were planning to stay, I brought you here."

My head felt like it was going to explode. "Something hit me," I insisted stubbornly. "I can handle my alcohol, thanks."

She popped her head out of the kitchen. "You were roaring drunk last night, Ron. You couldn´t handle your stomach."

I had wondered why my mouth was so dry and had a funny taste. "So I threw up then, did I?"

"Twice." She returned to the kitchen. The smell of bacon and eggs wafted towards my nose. I gagged.

"Why are you making me breakfast?" I asked. "I threw up."

"I haven´t forgotten. This is my breakfast. Oh, and there´s an owl for you."

She came out of the kitchen and took a seat at the dining room table. I was lying on her livingroom sofa, in my underwear, and I was sure I looked anything by debonair. As she took a seat, I pulled the blanket covering me up to my chin.

She looked over at me and laughed. "Honestly, Ron, who do you think undressed you?"

Suddenly realizing the connotations of that question, she busied herself with her eggs. I took a moment to look at her. Hermione never failed to amaze me. She had two opposite extremes, and I had come to realize that the two of them were never in the same room at the same time. Lila Parker, as I referred to her, was a bit more loose, dressed in a flashy manner, and smiled a lot more. Hermione Granger was stiffer, sterner, smarter, and more familiar. I wasn´t sure which I preferred.

Hermione was wearing jeans and an old t-shirt with the words "You´re Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile" on the front, and "So Brush Your Teeth" on the back. She looked very...Hermioneish.

"Where´s my luggage?" I asked. "One of your agents said it had been sent on ahead."

"It´s in the bedroom," she replied.

I reached over onto the side table and picked up a piece of parchment that I assumed was my owl. I opened it and started to read, becoming ever more alert as I went.

"My darling Hermione," I began incredulously, "I cannot wait to see you. Being parted from you is like the pain of a thousand knives in my heart--"

She gasped and threw herself on top of me, struggling to get the letter. I held her back and skipped down to the signature.

"Love, Trevor," I read aloud, my eyes wide. "Please tell me Neville´s toad has learned how to write."

Hermione climbed off of me and with as much dignity as she could muster, she snatched the letter from my hands.

"Not precisely," she said primly. I gaped.

"Not precisely? Who is this Trevor? Why is he writing you love letters?"

She spun on her heels and advanced toward me, her fists clenched and her cheeks flushed bright red.

"Don´t you dare, Ron Weasley! Don´t you dare even try to lecture me!"

"Lecture you!" I said, outraged, struggling to disentangle myself from the sheets. I completely ignored the fact that I was still only attired in my boxers. It wasn´t exactly the most important issue at hand. "How could you have a boyfriend?!"

She looked like she was dying to strike me again. "You have no right to take that tone with me, Ron! There are such things as double standards! If I remember last night correctly then you were listing all of your tarts to my face! At least I had the decency not to tell you!"

She was shouting at the top of her lungs. I am not one to meekly submit to such a thing; I had just as much anger as she did.

"You call that decency? Six months ago, you tell me you love me, then you walk out again, steal from me, and now you have a boyfriend? This is love?"

Now she was crying tears of fury. "Six months ago was a mistake. I never should have gotten involved with you again! My feelings for you aside, we could never make it work! I needed a real, stable relationship, Ron! Getting involved with you was destroying me, and I can´t do it."

I looked at her, my anger abating. "So you lied when you said you loved me?"

She stared back at me, tears still in her eyes. "No. I didn´t lie. But you can´t be angry with me for moving on. I had to." There was still some residual anger. "Besides, you´ve done the same thing only more so! At least I´m in a meaningful relationship!"

"How meaningful could it be, Hermione?" I asked nastily. "At least I never lied to you about my affairs."

"No, you just continually walk out and pretend like you´re stone, like you don´t need someone to love!"

I prepared myself for the last and worst thing I could think to say. "If I remember correctly," I spat, "walking out is what you´re best at."

She stood there, frozen. Very quietly, she said, "Would you like to meet him?"

I stared at her as if she was mad. "Have you suddenly gone batty? Why would I want to meet your boyfriend?"

Still very quietly, "Because he´s standing right behind you."

I whirled around. Standing in the doorway was a man about my age wearing an extremely confused look on his face. I stared stupidly at him for a moment before I realized what about him seemed so familiar. I turned back to Hermione.

"He looks like Harry!" I shouted. "Why does he look like Harry!"

"Excuse me?" the man, Trevor, said. "Who are you?"

Hermione hurriedly interrupted. "Trevor, this is Ron Weasley. He´s an old friend."

Trevor was still staring at me in confusion and his eyes traveled down my body. I remembered that I was still only in my boxers, and decided I could take malicious advantage of this situation.

I stuck out my hand and wrung Trevor´s enthusiastically. "Hermione, don´t be so coy. Trevor, old chap, mate, Hermione and I are lovers. Clandestine lovers."

His eyes popped out of his head. It was a smashing sight. His head whipped back and forth from me in my underwear to Hermione and her bright red face.

"Yes, old boy," I said merrily, enjoying myself immensely. "We´ve had loads of sex. Loads and loads. So much I believe I´ve lost count. What would you say, Hermione? One hundred and twelve? I suppose that would make last night one hundred and thirteen; I say, is that an unlucky number? Perhaps we ought to go shag and make it one fourteen."

I could have gone on at length, but I couldn´t stand the look on her face. She looked as though I had just hit her repeatedly, and I knew that if I kept going, she´d never forgive me. So instead I burst into laughter.

"I´m only joking," I said broadly, giving Trevor what was supposed to be a friendly slap on the back; it knocked him over. Oops.

"Oh, I see," said Trevor, still looking dazed. "This is a bit of your British humor, right?"

"Uh, sure, whatever makes you happy," I replied with a shrug.

Hermione released the breath she had been holding. "That´s Ron. He´s always been a clown."

Now really. I had gone to all that trouble to rectify my mistake and here she was, still insulting me. It wasn´t as if I had shown up on her doorstep with my new girlfriend; she could show a bit more regret. Then I remembered Tristen, Amelia, Jennifer, Rachel, and the girls at the club last night. But that was entirely different!

"So, how exactly do you know my Mione?" Trevor asked, his good humor returning once he realized I wasn´t really shagging his girlfriend. Not at the moment anyway...

"My Mione," I repeated incredulously. I glanced at Hermione briefly; her mouth was set in a thin tight line, and I figured since she had spoiled my other fun, I´d simply annoy her some other way. Immature, yes. No one said that dead sexy super spies had to be mature, too. Where´s the fun in that?

"Oh, well, Mione and I go back to our school days, Trev," I said, grinning at Hermione, who scowled in return. "We´re old school chums, aren´t we, Mione?"

"I think Ron was actually just about to leave," she said coldly.

"As soon as I put on some pants," I agreed. "Some of us actually have to work."

Trevor had apparently been looking for a point in which to break into the conversation. He took this opportunity with pathetic eagerness.

"And what do you do, Ron?" he asked. I was instantly reminded of Percy. What a pompous windbag.

"I am a--" I was stopped by Hermione; she was making exaggerated gestures behind Trevor´s head. She mouthed, `He´s a muggle!´ Although it could have been, `Peas are giggles,´ but that doesn´t make much sense.

Trevor was watching me expectantly.

"I´m a used car salesman," I said. Hermione rolled her eyes and clasped a hand to her forehead.

Trevor´s face lit up. I was really disturbed by how much he looked like Harry. Take off a few pounds and plaster a scar on him, and the Boy Who Lived was standing in front of me.

"Say, Ron, I have an extra ticket to tomorrow night´s Red Sox game, if you´d like to join Mione and me."

Hermione interrupted hurriedly. "Actually, Trevor, Ron doesn´t like baseball. I´m sure he isn´t interested."

Trevor turned back to me. "So what sport do you like?"

I smiled lazily. "Trust me, Trev, I bet you´ve never heard of it. But this baseball sounds intriguing. I´d love to join you."

"Wonderful!" Trevor exclaimed. He seemed desperate to make friends with me, although for the life of me I couldn´t figure out why. It was slightly disturbing since the last thing I wanted to do was make friends with Hermione´s boyfriend.

"Now, you´ll have to forgive me, but I have to go," I said with a meaningful look at Hermione. "Those cars won´t sell themselves."

She practically thrust my suitcase into my arms, threw my pants at me, and tossed me out the door. I stared at her in disbelief.

"So lovely to have you over, Ron," she said in a strained tone. "Do call the next time you´re in town."

She tried to close the door in my face, but I stuck my foot in the door. I caught a glimpse of her panicked expression.

"My owl," I said quietly. She became flustered and grabbed at a piece of parchment. Then she thrust it into my hands and shut the door in my face. I put on my pants outside in her hallway and then walked away.

I can tell you it was one of the hardest things I had ever done, walking away like that. I wanted nothing more than to march back in there and use Trevor as target practice. However, I have some pride, and I was not about to go back in there--not yet. Besides, I had a job to do.

It took me a little while to get myself in order and to make sure she hadn´t taken anything of importance. Nothing seemed to be missing, so I set off for the Electric Dragon. Once I was safely out of the building I looked at my owl. Except it wasn´t my owl, it was her love letter from Trevor.

"Brilliant," I muttered. "Just what I wanted. `Look, Mum, I went to Boston, Massachusetts and all I got was my heart broken.´"

As I walked the streets of Boston, I felt like I was being followed. As you can probably deduce this was not an uncommon feeling, but I was getting damned tired of it. I was in a horrid mood; I had one of the worst hangovers of my entire life (and that´s saying something), and my entire life was spiraling down the loo.

Not to mention that I hadn´t even made a crack in the case I had been sent all the way to Boston for. Wherever Malfoy was, he was probably laughing his arse off.

I was on edge. "Look, whoever´s following me, just come out and face me!"

Nothing could have prepared me for who came around the corner with a sheepish look.

"Harry?"

"Hullo, Ron," he said, kicking the ground, writhing with embarrassment.

"Oh, not you too!" I cried. "I can´t take it. How the hell did you find me?"

He grabbed my arm and pulled me off the street. Another dark alley, perfect. How did I, Ron Weasley, farthest thing there is from a shady character, always manage to end up in dark alleys?

"Look, I know Ginny´s here in Boston, and I know Malfoy is too." Don´t forget Hermione, I thought. "I have to find out the truth, Ron. I need to know."

Still thinking about Hermione I said, "Oh no you don´t. I´ve got it under control, Harry. I haven´t seen Ginny around, she´s probably back in England, and Malfoy´s my business, not yours."

"You don´t understand, Ron," Harry said irritably. "I love her and I can´t let the ferret have her!"

I stared at him in disbelief. "Harry, you´ve completely lost your mind, you know that? It´s Ginny´s choice."

He stared back. "But it´s Malfoy! Why aren´t you more upset about this!"

I shrugged. "Three reasons, actually. One, I plan on recapturing Malfoy and making sure he gets a life sentence in Azkaban which will most certainly discourage any relationship between him and my sister, two, if I should actually find him, it´s possible he´ll already be dead, and I´m certain Ginny´s not a necrophiliac. And three, she doesn´t give a damn about my opinion, so there´s no point in worrying about it. I have more important things to worry about than my sister´s love life. Hell, I can´t even keep track of my own love life!"

Even when he´s acting like a lovesick puppy, Harry is very astute.

"Ron, what are you talking about?"

"Nothing," I muttered. "No, go home, Harry. Get on a plane right now and go home. You´re going to ruin everything."

"I will not go home," Harry said. "I´m going to find Ginny."

And he Disapparated. I cursed loudly, threw my hat on the ground and stomped on it a bit. This really did no good, but it did help to relieve my feelings a bit.

I proceeded to the Electric Dragon. I was in no mood to play Dragon´s games so I just blasted the door open and walked inside. Since it was the early afternoon the club was rather empty and Neil Dragon was sitting at one of the tables, papers spread out in front of him, having a cup of coffee. He looked up when I walked over and took a seat at his table.

"Weasley," he said smiling. "I figured you´d be back, although I admit I also thought you´d be home today with a nasty hangover."

"I´ve got the hangover," I admitted.

"Allow me to fix you a cure." He snapped his fingers and a waitress who must have been behind the bar came over. "Get, Mr. Weasley a Panacea, Kristine."

Kristine winked at me and her eyes traveled down my body. I was too preoccupied to pretend to be insulted. She wandered back behind the bar momentarily and I heard a few glasses clink together. She came back with a fizzing purple drink. I looked at it skeptically, but Dragon only nodded without smiling. I took a gulp and instantly felt better.

"Amazing stuff," I commented. "You have to tell me what´s in it. This would be handy to carry around with me. Now, I didn´t get answers to my questions yesterday and I need them."

"If I recall correctly, it was only one question. And the lovely Miss Granger already grilled me on that subject." His smile didn´t quite reach his eyes, I noticed.

"So, what do you know about Draco Malfoy?" I asked.

"Absolutely nothing," he answered with perfect candor. "I don´t concern myself with minions so low on the food chain. If You-Know-Who´s followers were fish, Malfoy would be a minnow."

"Enough with the fish analogies, Dragon," I said. "I made the same mistake once, thinking of him as small bait. But he can surprise you. I know you know something about him."

He shuffled some paper around and started to count some money. "And how would you know that?"

"Because I know Malfoy´s here in Boston, and I also know you know everything there is to know about Boston´s seedy underbelly."

He gaped at me for a moment and then laughed. "Seedy underbelly? I think you´ve been reading one too many spy thrillers, Weasley. I´m sorry, I can´t help you."

I stood up and shoved in my chair. "Fine. I´ll have to go somewhere else."

I started to leave but he called me back. "Why do you care so much, Weasley? What´s the minnow to you?"

I replied without turning. "It´s my job. I take my job very seriously."

"What about your sister, Virginia, isn´t it?"

Now I turned around. "How the hell do you know her?"

"You brought her to my club in Singapore once. Loquacious little thing with flaming hair just like yours?" I stood there like stone. "Ah, I thought so. I´d watch that one, if I were you. She´s not as she appears. You´ve played big brother for too long, you haven´t even bothered to watch her as she´s grown. She cares too much, that little one."

I struggled to keep my expression impassive. "Do you mind if I look around? Are your girls here?"

"Feel free to investigate, Mr. Weasley, I have nothing to hide. Liz, Itsu, Trisha, and E are somewhere around. They go where they please."

I nodded curtly. "Fine."

I proceeded towards the back of the club. All I could remember about the previous night before it went black was that I was heading towards the toilet. Then I was knocked out. I was quite certain on this point; I never passed out just from drinking.

I was looking for a room; my befuddled mind told me that much. I just wasn´t sure what I´d find when I found it.

I started opening doors at random and discovered that Dragon had some very odd tastes. Waving quickly to the room of vestal virgins, I slammed the door shut and bolted it. Now there was a can of worms I didn´t want to open.

It was as I wandered back towards the front that I heard the shots.

I broke into a run and reached the main room of the club only to find Neil Dragon´s body slumped over the table, sticky with blood. Whoever had killed him had been a good shot; the bullet went straight into his heart.

I cursed loudly again. The only possible source of information was no longer available to me. Not to mention that now I´d never get the recipe for that cure-all drink. Oh, and a man was dead. That, too.

I heard what remained of the door creak open and cursed again.

"You´re too late, Hermione," I said without turning around. "He´s dead."

She didn´t ask how I knew it was her; this was Hermione, even when we argued I always knew when she was nearby. Besides, she still smelled like bacon.

"I don´t get it," Hermione commented. "Why use a muggle weapon? Why not a wand?"

I shrugged. "It´s certainly messier."

There it was. Hermione instantly dropped her expression of annoyed detachment and came to my side. She took my hand and forced me to look at her. I´ve never understood how women shorter than me were so intimidating.

"It still haunts you?" she whispered.

I shuddered. "I have nightmares about it. I had never killed anyone before, Hermione. Lucius Malfoy didn´t count, it wasn´t face to face, it wasn´t so...ugh."

She squeezed my hand. "I didn´t know. I´m sorry."

I didn´t want pity. Not from her, not now. I pulled my hand away and turned my back.

"Forget it. I only did what had to be done. I should have assumed that Dragon would be in danger. I got careless."

She bit her lip. "How could you have known? You can´t blame yourself. We had better go, Ron. There´s nothing more we can do."

I didn´t move. "But why kill him? He must have known something. Damn it, I knew he was lying to me about Malfoy! Come on, we´re going to look through the rooms again."

I grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the back. I started opening doors again, carefully avoiding the room of vestal virgins. I expected Hermione to comment on the unopened door but she was uncharacteristically silent. Just as I reached the final door, one I wasn´t sure had been there before (a sure sign that it hid something of importance), Hermione pulled back.

"No, wait, I have a bad feeling about this, Ron. Don´t you think this is a bit ominous? Neil was shot! The murderer could still be here!"

I waved her objections aside and kicked open the door.

"See?" I said, gesturing towards the room. "It´s only Ginny."

My words suddenly hit me. "Oh, bloody hell. It´s Ginny!"

She was tied to a chair in the middle of the floor. My sister´s red head hung limply forward. At the sound of my voice she lifted it and blinked in a bemused manner. Then her jaw dropped.

"Hermione?" She looked at me. "Ron?" Then despite her unfortunate looking position, she grinned. "I knew you two were seeing each other. My brother is such a hypocrite."

"Hypocrite!" I exploded. "I can´t believe you! You--you--you--" I spluttered.

"How long have you been back in my brother´s life?" Ginny asked Hermione as if we were having a friendly tea.

"Never mind that," Hermione said sternly. "What´s going on?"

"Yes," Ginny said nodding, "good question. Ron?"

They were both looking at me. I took a step backwards. This couldn´t be good. Hermione folded her arms and glared. Ginny just looked amused. I wanted to run away.

Then Ginny´s expression changed and I suddenly felt as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water down my shirt.

"Oh, Mr. Weasley, you´re not planning to go anywhere are you?"

Hermione looked horrified. I slowly turned around.

Liz, Itsu, Trisha, and E were standing in the doorway. All four girls were wearing black leather catsuits. Liz had a gun which she was pointing at me, and floating a few feet in front of them was Draco Malfoy, bound and unconscious.

Liz smiled. "I was hoping you´d stay."

Itsu chimed in. "We´re going to have lots of fun together."

Then said E, the third musketeer, "I´ll just escort Miss Granger and Miss Weasley out so the party can begin."

Before Hermione could react, E had frozen her. Then the former harem girl used her wand to levitate Hermione and Ginny out of the room. The other girls turned to me, a strange hunger in their eyes.

I sighed. "Great, now I´ll never get to see those red socks."