Blazing Sands

Blazing Sands

~ The sands change shape, and what we may presume,

May not be what it actually seems.

Between illusions and fantasies dear heart of mine,

Lies the cruel hand of fate in reality~

Part IX:

"Hermione!"

He knew that voice. Even though it had been a long time since he heard it, and it was considerably softer than the shrill precocious one he knew. It had to be her. He heard a lot of shrieking and he almost smiled knowing only Ginny could be shrieking and chattering like that in one breath as he heard rapid footsteps followed by more rapid footsteps.

"Ginny wait!" he heard Hermione's voice.

"For what?" he could hear that Ginny was breathless, clearly from whatever it was she was ranting about while in the passageway.

"I want some water, okay?"

"Okay, but I'll get you some, why don't you..."

"You don't change the subject...who is he?"

"I told you."

He opened the cellar door by margins too see if it was her or if he was just dreaming.

Oh god she was beautiful!

Hermione's back was to him and he could see she was trying to delay Ginny's entry into the kitchen however much as she could. Ginny stood a little taller than Hermione in her shoes but as she kicked them off he was surprised to learn that Ginny was actually shorter than Hermione. She was wearing blue robes, which elegantly hugged her obviously womanly figure. Her hair was shorter than Hermione's only more tamed and definitely the typical Weasley red. Her soft features were highlighted by expertly applied make-up, which he couldn't have made out had he not been so observant.

His sister was had grown into a beautiful woman and the only thing he could do about it was remain dead.

He watched as she walked daintily to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of cold water, he observed Hermione cast a nervous glance towards him. She didn't notice him looking from the slightly opened door and immediately jerked her head towards Ginny. He had always imagined that Ginny would inherit the characteristic tallness which many of the Weasley's picked up, remembering the way she shot up when she was in her fourth year. Yet her height clearly stopped at about three inches below Hermione's own length. Of course, where Hermione's frame was small and made her look like a pixie, even in front of Harry, Ginny was definitely womanly. He couldn't believe it but he was actually seeing her.

"Now don't you dare lie to me...Colin told me everything."

"Told you what?" Hermione seemed a little confused.

"Oh Hermione! He was heartbroken, but I mean. . . I was happy for you for course!"

"Ginny please..." Hermione shushed her, "Speak slowly. I don't necessarily think on your frequencies."

"You met another man!" she exclaimed as though it was an obvious fact.

"Oh that..." Hermione remained in her spot as he saw Ginny come and sit on one of the drawn chairs.

"Yes. That." Ginny rolled her eyes as she pulled her hair into a bun, "Is that why you ran off so fast? Did you have to meet him? Is he here? Where is he? I want to see him!"

"Ginny..." Hermione put her head in her hand and turned around. He could see the amused grin on Hermione's face and wondered what was going on, "...he's not here."

"No? Then what? Why did you...oh..." her face broke into realization, "...Oh, you went to his house?"

Hermione made a face, which only Ron could see and made him chuckle. Then she straightened it before turning towards Ginny, "Yes, Ginny, I went to his house."

A squeal erupted from her throat that made him chuckle. Some things about Ginny could never change.

"And?"

"And what?" Hermione turned again to check the cellar door.

"Did you...you know...?"

Hermione seemed confused and then Ron saw her expression change to embarrassed realization as she shook her head and said, "Yeah we did. Okay? He shagged my brains out. Now can you please..."

She was interrupted by another squeal, "Oh Hermione! You lucky girl! Finally. . . you lost your virginity! Or wait! Did he deflower you before?"

Ron almost fell back in shock as he saw her face turn red. She hurriedly turned and shouted incredulously at Ginny, "I will not tell you about my sex life!"

"Why not? I tell you about mine! How many times did you do it?"

"What do you mean, how many times did I do it?"

"You know...the first time...I...you know...we did it thrice!"

"WHAT?" Hermione gasped and cast a nervous glance back at the cellar.

Ron groaned softly. He did not need to know his sister had sex, much worse, how many times she did it. If he were alive he could have killed the prat that shagged his sister.

If he were alive.

He listened as Ginny began to narrate what Colin had told her. He rolled his eyes at the mention of Colin. He could not forget the sight of Hermione in her dress robes. They were made of dark blue and her hair colour was a beautiful contrast to it. He couldn't help feeling envious of the bloke who took her. Of course, that didn't compare to the jealousy he felt when he looked out of the window to see a very handsome sandy haired and tall blue-eyed man named Colin Montgomery, give her a kiss on the cheek before they Apparated. He spent most of the evening fuming. Of course, now that he heard the replay, he was relieved she broke up with him, hoping to Merlin that the reason she gave wasn't real.

Not that he had a right to her love life, anyway.

His thoughts shifted back to his sister who was rattling away, reminding him of the chatterbox who used to constantly annoy him whenever he tried to work. Just looking at her, all grown-up and womanly, he just longed to run out and hug her and tell her he was okay.

"Look Ginny!" Hermione finally shut her up by shouting, "I am really tired, and since you are so well versed in the topic I have just been in, you should know."

Ginny erupted into amused giggles.

"So please," Hermione sighed, "Can you go back to whoever it is in your apartment now, and let me sleep?"

"Oh!" Ginny smacked her forehead as she stood up and fetched her shoes, "I almost forgot the reason why I came here!"

"You mean apart from my sex life?"

She rolled her eyes and said, "You ran away so early Mum couldn't tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"Well this Sunday, we're holding a sort of family get together. Katie is pregnant again and well, with Dad's winning and all, we thought just the family and friends would celebrate. That means you and Harry too, you know that."

"Umm...okay."

"You better come. Mum thinks you've been neglecting her!"

"It was one lunch!" Hermione fiercely defended.

"For Mum, one lunch means that she has committed some grave mistake for which you'll never forgive her. So don't miss this one."

Hermione groaned and nodded.

"Oh! Hermione! I'm bringing Sholto Verona with me."

"So?"

"So, you can bring your new man."

"Thanks Ginny, but I don't think so."

Ron listened as Ginny whined and protested as Hermione led her to the door. He stood feeling rather numb, as though he had just been in a dream.

"Ron?" Hermione said uncertainly as she entered the kitchen once again. She didn't know how Ron would react to her blunder of allowing Ginny in to the kitchen. Fortunately, she was so wrapped up in talking that she didn't notice any difference, which was some thing an observant Ginny did rather well.

He came out of the cellar, looking ashen. Hermione rushed to him, to feel his temperature but before she could touch him he whispered, "She's beautiful...isn't she?"

Hermione's hand dropped to his shoulder and she nodded sadly.

He looked at her bleary eyed as though he was unable to see her. Raking his hands through his hair he went to the chair, pulled it a sat, "I wonder if they all look so different."

"A little..." she said slowly, "Fred has a beard now."

"He does?"

He looked so happy, she thought before nodding, "A little French one. Though Angelina isn't too happy about it."

"No..." he looked down and whispered, "I don't imagine she would be."

Something about the way he hung his head made her go to him and put her arms around his shoulder as he rested his head on her stomach, "I wish I could see them all..."

She nodded, "They remembered you tonight."

His arms closed tighter around her waist and she realized how much it must have hurt for him to let them go. Let them all go and never be able to see them again.

"Was Mum happy?"

"Everyone was."

"Good," he sobbed and looked up, "I want them all to be happy."

She pushed a lock of hair from his eyes and smiled in understanding.

"George must be ecstatic," he put his head back on her stomach, "Which one will this be?"

"Their third child."

"Three children," he whispered, "I wish I could see them."

She looked down at his red head and suddenly sobbed, "You can..."

He looked up at her and realized what she meant and shook his head, "No."

"They all will be there. You can see them."

"They could recognize me. None of them would have to know."

"I can modify your appearance."

"No." he stood up, still holding her, "I don't think I could bear to see them."

"Okay."

She nodded and tried to leave but he pulled her closer and whispered, "But it would be good though...to see them all again."

She smiled.

***

She knew that though he wouldn't show it, he was excited. As they walked from the Leaky Cauldron to Ollivander's, she could almost feel a vibration of impatience emanating from him. Ron had spent most of the night pacing about wondering whether he should go or not. She, herself speculated whether she had done the right thing by speculating on it, this morning. Yet seeing his eagerness to see a family he might never see again she force all reluctance back and suggested that he should consider going.

Which he agreed to and the joy in his eyes made him endearing and for a minute she saw a boy she once knew.

Of course, it meant planning that nothing would go wrong. Fortunately, Harry had informed her by owl that Sirius would not be able to come, much to her relief and Ron's. It would only be the family, which now included Harry and herself and their dates. And Ron would go as Carl Tyler, an American writer, who had no published work to date. As far as appearances were concerned she debated whether to give him polyjuice or plasto-shaper. The latter was used only under medical supervision and it would take a full day to prepare. But it was one guarantee that he would not look like anyone in case, by chance, Harry or the family happened to spot someone that looked like Carl Tyler later in life and wasn't.

So she settled for plasto-shaper and to her surprise Ron knew about it and told her that there was a way she could find it, instead of preparing it and without getting caught. That way meant a visit to Gringotts. She rather skilfully counterfeited a cashkey, which was the Gringotts equivalent to a cheque with Ron's help so she could access the secret vault, and have the contents transferred to hers. All the goblins in the world would not be able to tell the difference because the spell she used was a goblin spell, credit Ron. It worked excellently and they were able to get some money. He was covered extremely well with her enlarged cloak and she tried her best not to keep looking here and there hoping no one would recognize her. There were very few people in Diagon Alley this time of the year. Most of the rush was constituted by students when the time came for them to buy their books.

Ron was still weak and she was extremely worried about his walking around so much, even though he tried to be strong and not admit it.

"Are you feeling well?" she whispered as she walked slightly behind him.

He muttered audibly enough for her to hear, "If you ask me that question once more I swear I will wretch right here."

"Fine." She shrugged, sarcastically saying, "Don't look at me to help you when you die of syncope."

"Pray tell what is 'synko'?"

"'Syncope' and I won't tell you. You'll know it when it happens."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Some things won't ever change, will they?" he said, and she could feel him smiling, though she couldn't see his face under his hood.

"No," she smiled, feeling a little less tense, "And I am glad that it won't."

"So am I."

She kept the silent smile as her eyes fell on the faded writing of Ollivander's.

She peeked in and was relieved to see that it was empty, except for Ollivander who bustled in and out of his storage with boxes. Memories of buying her first wand filled her and she suspected Ron felt the same as they checked about and went in.

"Mr. Ollivander?" she called looking for him.

His head popped up over the counter, startling her but the cloaked figure that was Ron didn't even flinch.

"Ah yes, Ms. Granger...or should I say Dr. Granger?

She smiled and nodded, then shifted uncomfortably when he turned to Ron.

"I was expecting I would be seeing you a little sooner, Mr. Weasley."

Ron's hood dropped just as her jaw did and both stared at Ollivander with similar expressions of total shock.

"Oh don't be so surprised," Ollivander said rather matter-of-factly smiling as though it was very common for dead men to be popping up in his shop, "I know every time any of the wands I have sold are used, Mr. Weasley, from the one that caused Mr. Potter his scar, to Mr. Potter himself. I knew every time you used yours, even after your, what shall we call it? 'Death'. I understand that from your faces that only Ms. Granger knows..."

Ron still looked too flabbergasted to respond. Hermione soon found her voice and said slowly, "He...he was injured."

"Was he now?" Ollivander cocked his head at Ron, "Then I must say, you have had the good fortune of meeting one of the best MediWizards I have seen."

Ron nodded dumbly and Hermione said again, "Mr. Ollivander? If you knew then..."

"It is not a good habit to comment on what your product does, Ms. Granger. Violates clientele privacy no matter, what the deed is. Like I always say, it's the wand that chooses the wizard."

Ron finally seemed to find nerve to speak though his word came out more like small gasps, "My wand...broke."

"Yes, I know." he smiled, "And I remember what it was...as always. Fourteen inches made of willow, unicorn hair core."

Ron nodded, though Ollivander hadn't really asked a question.

"Like I said, Mr. Weasley. No two wands are alike," said he as he went inside. They could hear his voice distinctly over the rummaging of boxes. He came out and took out a wand saying, "But I think this should do..."

Ron didn't need to be told to do a swish and flick, but nothing happened.

"No?" Ollivander frowned, "Curious, very curious. It would seem Mr. Weasley, that it is predestined that you chose a rather different path than what was expected of you. I am not one to speak, of course. I myself have been witness to quite a few twists of fate to make judgments. Lets see now..." he took back the wand given to Ron and headed back towards his stock.

"I hate it when he talks like that..." Ron leaned to Hermione's ear and whispered.

Hermione nodded in agreement, sighing and checking outside to see if anyone was coming in. She didn't turn when she heard Ollivander coming with another wand.

"Try this."

She heard no reaction, assuming that it wasn't the correct wand she didn't bother to turn around.

She heard Ollivander mumble something and his voice fade. She turned to find Ron looking very impatient and tired. She smiled supportively and said, "Should I dare to ask how you are feeling?"

"I'd probably lie to you." He came up to her and leaned against the wall; she suspected he was doing it out of exertion more than habit.

"You probably would." she nodded and decided against fussing over him.

"Mr. Weasley?" Ollivander came in and said, "Try this one."

Ron sighed and went towards him. Accepting the wand, he did another swish and flick, but it did not work.

Hermione knew it would be a while before an appropriate wand was found so she didn't press Ollivander, though she could see the irritation on Ron's face.

"Mr. Ollivander...?" she called after him as he went to check one of the shelves on the sides.

"Yes ,Ms. Granger?"

She almost forgot what it was she was going to ask, when she shook her head realizing she was trying to distract Ron's attention.

Ollivander returned with the fourth wand. It produced no effect.

"Curious," Ollivander looked at Ron, rather surprised, "None of the cores seem to suit you, Mr. Weasley."

"Is that a good thing?" Ron looked uncertain.

"I'm not sure, I have never been one to presume what a wand would will of its user. Of course, after the Apparatation Policy one could never..."

"Mr. Ollivander!" Hermione exclaimed, all of a sudden, startling both men, as she was reminded of the Apparation Policy.

"Yes, Ms. Granger." Ollivander nodded, "I am aware of the Policy. Unfortunately all my wands have been tabbed. I really find it useless...it..." he broke off suddenly and she could see a glint in his eyes.

"I wonder..." He mumbled and went into his storage.

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances and minutes later he came back, carrying a very dirty wooden box as though it were his most prized possession. He set it on the table and then used his own wand, pointed it to the door and said what Hermione recognized as a locking charm and one that couldn't be disarmed.

"Now. . ." His voice became so soft that the two of them had to lean forward as he said, "I have had this in my family ever since I took over Ollivanders. I would appreciate you," he looked at Hermione, "keeping silent about this. It is not tabbed because no one has really been chosen by this particular wand."

Hermione raised her eyebrows and looked at Ron whose expression mirrored hers.

Ollivander carefully opened the wooden box as he explained; "This wand was made by an eccentric uncle of mine. He said that it would be of use to the worthy owner...but of course, none of us believed him. We kept it, naturally because it is magnificent work, though it could never be used by any of us. The magic is locked within the wand, and according to him, the owner could only activate it. Of course, I always thought he was a bit of quack. Most of his wands were sold in the black market far too cheap. Strange that he chose for me to inherit it on his death."

Hermione held her breath as he pulled away cover after cover of what seemed like tissue paper until finally a linen cloth in the shape of what was obviously a wand was all that remained.

"I personally used to think it was all rubbish...you see, wands after all, should be made of the finest wood..."

She breathed out as he pulled away the linen to expose a beautifully shaped black wand.

Ron jerked back suddenly, cursing rather obscenely, much to Ollivander's distaste, but she did not reproach Ron. From his horrified face, she knew immediately what the black material was that the wand was made of.

Ebony.