Blazing Sands

Blazing Sands

~ Trouble not that heart of gold

For I am not worth those many tears ~

Part VII:

Ron sat covered by a towel on the armchair staring out the window. A nagging voice at the back of his head reminding him he was wasting too much time. He was amazed how similar the voice was to Geiger's barking and he chose to ignore it. Many things Hermione said made sense to him. He had lost a lot of blood, his wound wasn't perfectly healed and if he made the blunder of going out in this state he'd probably fuck it all up. Of course, that was what he told himself. He had gone on missions even when he was wounded or shit tired and this was no different a situation, a little worse perhaps, but no different. His condition may have been critical, but that was no reason for him to lag behind and make things even more complicated. He had to get his information to Special Operatives before the problem escalated out of hand.

The real reason was that he didn't want to leave her.

A ringing suddenly caught his attention. He looked about cautiously; it seemed to come from the bedroom and he could see it came from the fellytone on Hermione's side table. He hadn't noticed it until now. He looked towards the bathroom and could still hear the sound of the shower. Hermione had kicked him out after his bath, much to his teasing protests.

"If you get to see me naked. I should get to see you naked."

"I'm a doctor. It doesn't make a difference to me if you're clothed or not."

"Okay, can I at least see you bathe?"

"In your dreams. Now get OUT!"

"Don't be so touchy. I am a sick man."

"You've got that part correct."

"I mean injured!"

"You're a pervert, too."

He chuckled, if only she knew what happened in his dreams. He looked at the fellytone, which seemed to ring incessantly.

Telephone, Ron. Hermione of his consciousness reminded him.

Shut up, he told her and wondered what to do. Should he pick it up?

He didn't get to pick it up as the ringing stopping with a click and a beep. He suddenly heard Hermione's voice come from the felly- no! Telephone.

"Hi, this is Hermione Granger. I'm not here right now, please leave your name and number on the machine and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

Ron stared at it as though it had a head and a tail. A beep followed her voice. Then suddenly a deep, suave, male voice sounded.

"Hermione? Hi! It's me, Colin. I tried to reach you at the Hospital but they said you were on vacation. Imagine my surprise! Hermione 'Works-like-hell' Granger took a break from work! Anyway my owl sort of had an accident so I decided to reach you by phone...definitely much easier for me. I just wanted to tell you I am back from Azakaban and Yech! God! I hate that place! Anyway, hope not to have to go there again. By the way, you do remember that tomorrow is the Reelection party for Arthur Weasley, don't you? I expect you'll be going. I'll pick you up at six-thirty tomorrow. We'll Apparate together. And don't say no! Get back to me soon. Bye!"

Ron sat dumbfounded, unsure what to make as a beep followed and the voice disappeared. He jumped as the door to the bathroom opened and Hermione stepped out wearing a bathrobe.

And God! Was the woman breathtaking!

Hermione wiped her long wet tresses and smiled at him. At his stunned expression her smile faded and she said, "Ron...? What is it?"

Ron snapped out of his trance and sputtered, "The...fellytone spoke."

"The telephone?" She looked at the instrument by her bed.

"It was you first and then Colin."

"Colin?" She was baffled by his confusion, but followed his gaze to the blinking answerphone and then it all made sense.

"Oh no," she sat on the bed, trying not to notice his rippling muscles and played the message, "It's called an answerphone. It basically allows people to record their messages when you're not at home."

Ron nodded, seemingly relieved. Hermione listened to the message and then hit the delete button.

"Colin went to Azkaban?" Ron said immediately.

"Yes, he...he works with Security Lobby."

"Dad's been reelected?" Ron said after a while.

Hermione met his wistful eyes and nodded then said, "You knew he was..."

"...Elected as minister?" He completed and sighed, "Yes...but he doesn't know about us..."

"I know." She understood.

"So...this bloke, Colin. He's not...Colin Creevey, is he?"

"Creevey?" she smiled and shook her head, "No, Colin Montgomery, he's actually muggle-born. He went to Beauxbatons."

"Beauxbatons?" Ron stood up and went to the window, "France?"

"Yes, his mother was French."

Ron nodded, "Are you going?"

"Where? To work...? No. I told you..."

"To the party," he said, "Tomorrow."

Hermione looked at the answering machine and then stood up, "If you don't want me..."

"No, I do." He turned immediately, "I want you to go and tell me how Dad is."

She could see the anguish and longing in his face, "Ron...I don't have to go to the party to tell you that."

"But I want to you to be with him," Ron came up to and tucked a wet lock under her ear, "I want you to be with him in his happiness, for me."

Hermione looked into those pale eyes and nodded.

"Thank you." Ron whispered and then seemed to want to embrace her but he backed away. Hermione felt disappointed all of a sudden, and bit her lip before she said something.

"Hermione..." he said, as he went to sit on the armchair, "I have to leave."

"Ron," she sighed, "I can't stop you from doing that, but you are not in a position..."

"I bloody know!" he gasped and put his head in his hands, "I just wish I didn't feel this bloody sick!"

Hermione went towards him and said, "You're a lot better. Stay for some more time, Ron. If you want to get some information across, I can..."

"NO!" he looked up, his face absolutely white, "The only two people who should know I am here are you and me. If the SOS find out where I have been they will hound you with all the fucking memory charms in the world and then those bastards will find out..."

Hermione caught his face as he began gasping, "Don't overexert. I won't tell anyone."

"I know you won't. I just..." he leaned back, sighing, "...I just don't like feeling so helpless."

Hermione nodded and knelt to keep her head in level with his, "Do you think you could climb down the stairs?"

Ron looked as thought she had given him the prize of a lifetime and she couldn't help smiling, "Are you kidding? After two weeks in this room, of course I could climb down the stairs!"

"Well," she made a look of mock apprehension, "It's not that bad!"

"No, it's wonderful!" he said sarcastically, "I just don't fancy being here for two fucking weeks!"

"And I don't fancy your cursing." She said sternly, standing up.

He made a look of mock fear, which made her laugh when he said, "Oh yes, ma'am, No cursing ma'am!"

"Come on." She said, and went towards the door to open it.

"Hermione..." he seemed uncertain. She looked at him expectantly.

"I don't have any clothes," he said matter-of-factly.

"Look," she sighed, "It's my house, all right? No one will see you."

"Yes, but still..."

"You don't need your clothes to eat," she said as though it was an obvious fact, which it was, crossing her arms.

Ron shook his head and strode towards her then went out of the door with her behind him, mirroring a similar expression.

The woman was breathtaking!

That thought seemed to pop around in his head a lot as he entered the kitchen. After finding that he could walk about without collapsing or doing anything similar he took a tour around the house as she went about to making breakfast. The minute he entered the living room, he laughed. It was filled with books and parchments. There was a discarded blanket on the sofa, which was the only thing that didn't look remotely like a book. Apart from that her house was enough for one person and Ron suspected she wanted to keep it that way. As he made his way into the spotless dining room-kitchen he observed pictures of their days at Hogwarts apart from the ones of her family. He looked at one in which they sat together, her looking to the sunset, the wind billowing her hair and him looking at her, love struck. He groaned, remembering that Colin Creevey had taken that and had paraded itbout to everyone, though he got his hands on the picture before hand, Harry stole it from him and showed Hermione. She didn't seem the least bit unsettled by it, which made him even more awkward about telling her he had a crush on her. Of course, he didn't know how to react when she asked him if she could keep it.

As the aroma of sausages and eggs filled the air, he realized exactly how hungry he was, and forgot about the photograph.

"Ron!"

"Mmm?"

"Eat slowly!"

"I'm 'ungry!"

"I know you are, but eat slowly. It could be too heavy for your stomach."

"Oh, stop nagging."

"I do not nag."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"Ron! Don't eat it so fast!"

"There you go nagging again."

"I am not nagging, I am just telling you to eat slowly."

"Oh, bugger off! You're ruining my appetite!"

"Shut up!"

"You started it."

"Argh!" She pushed the chair back noisily and went to the stove where the kettle was whistling.

God! She looked breathtaking when she was frustrated! Ron's fork stopped midway in the air and he ate it hastily, to avoid her noticing his rather flushed face. He was playing on dangerous ground, he told himself. The more he thought of Hermione in a purely more-than-friendly manner, the harder it would be to control his need. Though he couldn't help smiling, as long as he argued with her, he felt a lot better about himself. He swore under his breath, earning a disdainful snort from her. He had no right to be thinking about Hermione that way. Clearly even if this Colin chap was not her boyfriend, his tone of voice suggested that he was interested. And the way she seemed to avoid his questioning on Colin, maybe she was interested too.

That thought did not settle well with him.

"Hermione?" he said slowly as he drank his glass of juice.

"Hmm?" she said, not turning around, looking quite busy.

"Are you..." he broke off. He had no business asking such questions. As a friend, he did, some part of him argued.

"Am I, what?" her nonchalant question came as he saw her reach for the overhead cabinet.

"Are you and this Colin fellow seeing each other?"

Her hand was reaching for a jar but froze where it was. Slowly she brought her arm down and her head dropped, "Not exactly."

He decided not to probe further.

"I..." she started, "He seems interested."

Ron looked up from glaring his eggs to kingdom-come, which he realized he was doing only now, "And you?"

"He's nice..."

"But?"

"I don't know," she sighed and turned holding two cups of tea, "I don't fancy him much."

He was filled with a sense of triumph as he looked down so she wouldn't see it, in case it showed on his face. Which he was sure it did. Suddenly he felt guilty. Who was he to feel apprehensive about her life? She had a right to love. God knows! If anyone did, it would have to be her. How could he be so inconsiderate? Even if he couldn't stand the idea of anyone with her, it wasn't as though he could be there for her.

"Did you ever..." he said after a long silence, "...marry or something?"

She shook her head, much to his ridiculous relief, for which he chided himself.

"And you?" she asked.

"No." he sighed, looking down and picking his eggs, "We're not allowed that much of..."

"Liability?"

He looked up at the coldness of her tone and nodded.

She nodded, in understanding, "Must be hard."

"It's almost fucking impossible! I'm sorry...I mean it's impossible."

"Is it?" she seemed a little disappointed by his answer, "Why? Did you even come close to loving someone?"

Ron looked at her and shook his head, wanting to tell her that he felt strongly only for her.

"Then...?"

"Hermione..." he sighed, paused a little and then said, "I think you should know about the Spectres."

"If you want me to know, Ron." She looked sincere.

Ron nodded, "I do."

"Okay."

"The Spectres were formed under Moody's recommendation, and Dumbledore's apprehension."

"Dumbledore didn't approve?"

"No," he shook his head as he said it, and then continued, "He wasn't for the idea of any organization so secret that the Ministry bureaucrats didn't know about it."

"Why did Moody recommend it?"

"Moody never was a conventional man. He'd seen enough shit to know that evil never played by the book, so neither should the defendants against evil. When he became Chief of Intelligence and Security he felt the best way to get Voldemort, other than sit around and wait was to get wind of what he was up to so we could catch him before it was too late. We were in our seventh year when Moody with the help of Sirius and a few trusted others, segregated the best Aurors and put them in Special Operatives."

"But, Special Operatives always existed."

"Yes, but there were leaks in the entire ministry. I remember Dad wondering if Fudge himself was loyal to our side. Moody plugged as many as he could, but no matter how many he got, they always multiplied. So he told Dumbledore that the Anti-Corruption Bureau was to incompetent to handle this, and he was forming an elite group of trusted people who didn't necessarily play by the book."

"The Intelligence of the Intelligence."

He nodded and continued, "When we were in the seventh year, Moody had convinced Dumbledore to allow me to join the Aurors. He never really fancied the idea of the N.E.W.T.s being given first. Sirius felt it was a good idea too, but Dumbledore only agreed for Harry's sake. He kept telling me I could leave at any point if I decided I didn't want to pursue this. Believe me I wanted to, but I kept thinking of the nights Harry would wake up screaming with his scar hurting, and I stayed on.

"At that time I only knew I was going to be an Auror. It was only after Voldemort's failed attack on Harry in seventh year that Moody told me that I was not just going to be an Auror, I was going to be one of Elite. Of course, the rumours had started which Moody and Dumbledore kept at bay, but we sort of caught on the name of the Spectres. So that was why the group was classified under Special Operatives Sector Classified S. The advantage to a Sector Classified portfolio was that the Chief who initiated it could shut it down and nobody would know what it was, not even the minister.

"Our jobs were more complicated than tackling the Death Eaters. We had to devise the best plans to infiltrate the group, find out their links and connections and break them up. We had to find out all underhand activities because Voldemort wasn't just a first-class bastard he was a clever one. He would be twice as smart this time. If at all he died, he'd find some way to resurrect himself. Snape proved useful until I suspected that Voldemort knew. I told Geiger but the bastard forgot to tell Moody. Of course, after that his credibility decreased with Moody. Serves him right!"

"Who all knew?"

"Dumbledore, Moody, Lupin, and Sirius spearheaded it. Geiger became weapons and combat specialist, Mundungus Fletcher Mission Chief, Adrian Grenier-Lombardt was communications. Dana Monroe was for Counter-spells. Shylock Canabre was in charge of underground intelligence...the spies, I mean."

Hermione recognized these names as some of the guest Trainers from the Academy, particularly Geiger.

"We were overseen by Moody himself and when he died Sirius took over. He's still in charge, actually. We were given permission to use all top-priority spells and curses to terminate any threat to the Auror army. We had access to all information from the top to the bottom. You would not believe the crap that went on between Fudge's son and this barmaid and...sorry...off track! Anyway, those of us who were part of this were actually the crème-de-la-crème of the Aurors. Except me."

"Except you?"

"Because I was directly in contact in Harry, I was trained specifically for the Spectres as compared to the others who were already Aurors. We were given basic training in all forms of Martial arts known. It was hell, but it gave a good thrill!"

"Ron..."

"Sorry...anyway. Around the time..."

"Wait Ron," she suddenly said, "All forms of Martial arts? You couldn't have learnt all that in three years."

"Yeah well," he shrugged, "You couldn't have taken six subjects at one time in one year. Remember the third year in Hogwarts?"

"You were given time turners?"

"How do you think we got trained so fast?"

"Okay..."

"Anyway, around the time that we entered the first year of Cadet training, we got intelligence reports of Death Eater and Dementor activity around specific clans and tribes who used magic. The Kalaripayattus of India, the Aztecs in South America, Winter Nymphs in the Antarctic, Vikings, East Gombus...initially it was thought that it was to harness their magic but something seemed rather fishy because Kalaripayattus were an extremely combat oriented clan. Their art of fighting was totally different to the other Asians.

"That was when Snape informed us that Nott, Macnair and Bullstrode had been killed in combat. That was when something else began happening. Macnair was known for killing magical creatures, it was his ruddy hobby and we knew that the dragons around certain landmarks began to be exterminated before his death. Not all in one go, over a controlled period of time, not to make us suspicious, but the thing was around specific landmarks with some particular thing in common. At this time I had received information that there was a plan to abduct me and you know what happened then. I was instructed that I was to Apparate to Macedonia."

"Greece?"

"Yeah, the range between Thessaly and Macedonia, to be precise."

"Mount Olympus?" she whispered.

"Wow!" Ron was surprised, she did know everything.

"Oh my God Ron!" she exclaimed in a hushed voice, "The other landmarks?"

"Stonehenge, Pillars of Hercules, Bermuda Triangle and a place in India, I forget, a City of Gold or something..."

"Dwarika?"

"Yeah....wow! You know quite a bit, you know that."

"Of course I do. I read more than..."

"....me. Yes, I know. Anyway, we didn't have the benefit of your extensive knowledge and I will kick Geiger in the arse for making fun of you. I had originally reported there to assassinate or spy on what was going on, depending on what the situation was called for. That was when, I could have sworn it Hermione, it was him. Macnair was standing over the body of a dead dragon."

"...so his death was a farce..."

"A ruddy good one. The farce was flawless. Even we thought he was dead until then."

"And then what?"

"He drew the dragon's blood and mixed it with something. Then we followed him up to the peak of Mount Olympus and he just flung that something on the crater where the volcano had sealed its tip."

"He opened a portal?"

"Er...yeah. How do you know about portals...?"

"I read..."

"I know, but there is no mention of all of this in any book."

"I'll tell you later."

"Okay, he disappeared in it and all the pieces fell into place. He was going into the parallel dimensions so they could keep Death Eater activity going on."

"My god! Ron! The bloody war isn't over!"

"While I am around it is..." he said with a deliberate expression, "The Spectres split up into the dimensions in which the Death Eaters had infiltrated. We've kept their activity at bay ever since."

Hermione sat staring at Ron, absolutely astounded by all that he gave her. She breathed deeply in and out a couple of times before she was able to bring herself to ask, "How did you learn Snape was alive?"

"He met us in one of those dimensions. It's called the Mahabian."

"The desert?"

"Er...Yeah." He decided on questioning her knowledge later, "You should have seen him then Hermione. He looks a lot better now, I can assure you."

"How did you manage to get through the Portals? Surely you didn't draw on the Dragon blood?"

"No...!" he said, shocked, "Not at all...that would be the end of us."

"Then?"

"A spell. According to Dana Monroe it took the minds of all the Arithmancy experts in the world to devise."

Hermione smiled knowingly all of a sudden and it occurred to Ron that the bloody best Arithmancy genius sat in front of him. It was his turn to sit astonished now.

Hermione sighed, "The first dimension we were able to stabilize was the desert dimension."

"When?"

"A month after your...Voldemort's death, I was called by Dr. Monroe. She told me she needed my help. As usual I was put through all the memory spells and secrecy charms. They were willing to sponsor my studies at the MediWizardry Academy in exchange."

"What do you mean, sponsor?"

"After you died, everything became so difficult that my parents couldn't take it. They wouldn't let me continue with magic."

"WHAT?" Ron backed up so fast his chair almost fell with him on it.

She nodded, "I left the Auror Cadet Training a month later. I couldn't take Auror training. I opted for MediWizardry, except Mum and Dad would have no more to do with magic. We worked using daily time turners and cramped up in little cabins. I met Dr. Amadeus, you know?"

"Who?"

"He's like the Father of Arithmancy of our century. He died a while back."

Ron didn't seem the least bit impressed. Hermione didn't even expect it as she explained, "We were able to create a spell that stabilized the Appartation into the desert dimension. Using that as a model they could construct and deconstruct spells for other dimensions. After that I was given permission to leave."

"One of our best kept secrets..." Ron nodded, "The Trans-dimensional Apparation spell."

They both sat staring at each other as though each had revealed some horrid secret, which they had. Then, Hermione asked uncertainly, "Ron...?"

He nodded.

"Did the Raeties attack you?"

"No, Hermione," he sighed.

"Then who did? That kind of dark magic is too powerful for ordinary humans."

"Whoever said Dementors were human?"