Mera Naam Ron Weasley Hai (My Name Is Ron Weasley)

CHAPTER II

WHITE SNEAKERS

The setting sun outside of the wide window cast colors of orange and grey into the master bedroom, and the cool breeze stirred the white curtains in a swirl of ghostly movement. Playing with the ends of the lace curtains as they brushed up against his hands, Ron squinted his eyes thoughtfully out across the city below him. How old was this place, he speculated. It seemed to him like a picturesque version of ancient bazaars, minus the number of small vehicles that sat parked and steaming on the sides of the stone streets. He watched groups of people pass on the road below him, women hurrying home before the sun set with long purses slung over their shoulders. Several elderly men clothed in dark Kurtas stood near a lamppost, chatting amongst each other in rapid Hindi, all the while gesturing with active hands toward one another.

A young man caught his eye, and Ron shifted his gaze to him. The man, perhaps just in his early thirties, walked with a sort of hop-skip, dressed in a business suit the color of black with a pair of clashing white sneakers. His dark hair bounced along with his step as Ron continued to watch his movements. Stopping just a fathom from Ron's home, the man suddenly turned to look up at the large house. His eyes met with Ron's in what felt slow motion, and Ron nodded his head as though to say hello. The man raised his clapped hands to his chin and inclined himself into a half-bow. As Ron's eyes sparkled in bewilderment, he spotted something thin and ash-colored protruding from the pocket of the man's trousers. A wand?

The man's mahogany eyes followed Ron's gaze and he slowly withdrew the item from his pocket and waved it softly and gracefully through the air in front of him. Glittery light streamed from the tip of it and spelled into the air, "Namaste... Mere dost." The silvery words sparkled in the air for a few moments before disappearing in a gust of wind.

Smiling and arching an eyebrow, the man slipped the wand back into his pocket. Ron, unable to understand the words that had passed between them, shrugged his shoulders and tried in vain to signal that he had no idea what the man had just spelled out to him. The man only laughed, shook a teasing finger at him and turned to continue his stroll down the street.

Watching him for passing minutes, Ron felt unsure of how to feel about his small encounter with the Indian wizard. Who was he? Had they some past together?

Shaking off the feeling with a shrug of his shoulders, Ron turned when he heard the door to the room quietly open. Kalpita, meeting her husband's eyes, grinned shyly and closed the door behind her.

"Brother Harry is telling Priya stories downstairs on the patio," she said, her accent causing Ron to grin. "Ginny is resting. Her baby was very active this afternoon, she says." With that, she slowly walked to where Ron stood and stared up into his eyes with a loving reverence. After a long moment, she slowly bent down and touched his feet. Bringing her hand to her heart, she rose and looked curiously into Ron.

"What is it?" he asked, slightly uncomfortable with her curious and questioning gaze. "Are you all right?"

Her smile was flickering, as though she was struggling with some betraying thought. "I am fine," she whispered, putting her hand to the side of his face in wonderment. "Chotaa sa ladka..." The words escaped her lips in hardly a whisper before she bowed her head and smiled.

"What does that mean?" he asked softly. She quickly stared back up at him, her eyes boring into his, unsure of him in a way. Tears lingered behind them for a moment, but she quickly took a breath and replaced her hidden tears with a small smile.

"My little boy..." she whispered, running a hand through his bangs in a soft caress. "How can you ask me that after so many years? Have you forgotten so quickly?" Watching her as she stared at her fingers as they played with his hair, Ron knew nothing of what he should have said. She seemed hurt by something that he could not see. After a moment, she asked, "Who is she?"

There was a long pause in which Ron slowly took Kalpita's hand into the two of his and brought them to his chest, resting there... waiting. "Who?" he asked after a long silence.

"The woman who has been in your thoughts all this day," she answered quietly. "I have accepted that it is not me... Your strange behavior must be due to someone else."

Ron thought for a moment. He did not want to tell her that he could not stop thinking about two women the entirety of the day. Kalpita and Hermione had occupied his thoughts, overriding his confusion, for hours. When he thought of one, he automatically thought of the other. Where was Hermione? He wondered. What was it that Harry had not told him? And what of Kalpita? Had he fallen in love with her and out of love with his best friend Hermione? His thoughts had never been so occupied with thoughts of love and heartbreak. After all, he was only seventeen, and there were too many other things to care about in his life. Like the Quidditch team, for example. When he had gone to sleep, they were two victories away from winning the Cup. And there were his classes, and Draco, and Snape. His worries and passions never extended further than the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Anything further away, beside the threat of Voldemort, had no concern for him nor he for them. Never in his life had he ever contemplated the troubles of... love? Was it love?

And this woman whose hand he held to his chest, staring into her dark eyes...? He searched his memory strenuously for any passing image of her, for anything regarding her, but he found nothing. His mind was a white-blank after his goodnight kiss to Hermione and pulling the sheets over his head for sleep. Had someone cast a memory charm on him? Why was he here? Why did he have so many questions and no one to answer them properly?

And suddenly his thoughts fell on the wizard in the white sneakers on the street below the window.

"Kalpita, do we know any wizards?" he asked suddenly and abruptly. His wife's face fell when he failed to address her concern. But, in an effort to please him, she slowly nodded her head. "Who? Who?" he asked urgently.

Leaving his hand, she took a small step away, her head lowered as she answered, "We know brother Harry, sister Ginny, brother George, Shrimaan Neville, Shrimaan Raj, and..."

"Raj?" he interrupted. "Who's Raj?"

Growing upset, Kalpita said, "Ron, this really isn't funny any more. Stop acting like you have no clue who you are, and just be Ron again!" Her frustration was hot in the flush of her cheeks, and Ron bit his lower lip, unsure of how to explain. He knew that if he tried once again to tell her the truth, she would most likely grow upset with him. So, he simply stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trousers and stared hard into the carpet of the floor. He stood there for long minutes, his hair hanging down into his eyes, his left foot inclining inward on the toes, a nervous habit. Seeing his obvious discomfort and blatant confusion, Kalpita let out a sigh and placed a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong, Ron? You seem strange all day." Her words came out softly, with a tone of sympathy and compassion.

"Kalpita," Ron let out after a long pause, his voice quiet and quivering. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Smiling, her eyes sparkling, she said, "Oh, I doubt that, Piya." Ron blinked. What did she call him? "Mujhe Batao. As long as you tell me to take you serious, yeah."

Taking her hands, he led her to the foot of the bed. Motioning for her to take a seat, Ron slowly sank down onto the bed next to her, shifting his feet uncomfortably against the carpet. "Kalpita, please, I am completely serious. What I am about to tell you is going to make me sound completely mad, but you must believe me," Ron began, his nervousness escalating. Kalpita's face grew serious in Ron's somber and nervous manner. "I have no inkling of who I am, where I am, or what I've done. I can't remember anything."

A long silence followed, in which Kalpita stared hard into Ron's eyes, an effort to determine whether or not what he spoke was true. Her copper eyes sparkled in the light of the setting sun as they flashed back and forth between her husband's two eyes. "Nothing?" she asked after a long silence, her eyes unmoving from his. Ron only stared into her in return before he slowly nodded his head.

Tears lingered on the edge of Kalpita's long lashes, and Ron felt his stomach turn in a mixture of pity and empathy. "I saw a man, a few moments ago," Ron began quietly as Kalpita put her forehead to their clasped hands, tears streaming over Ron's fingertips, "and he seemed strangely familiar to me. He had dark hair that was thick and bouncy. Er... he was dark and somewhat short. Maybe a little taller than you. He was wearing a black suit and--"

"White shoes," Kalpita completed his statement in a whisper.

Putting his hands to her cheeks, Ron asked, "You know who I am talking about?" He felt her smooth skin on his hands, and a familiar comfort pulsed up his arms and into his heartbeat. He knew immediately that this beautiful woman was no dream.

"Ha," she replied in a breath. "Yes, I do. He is our good friend. After Brother Harry married your sister, he became your very best friend. His name is Raj Khan. You two are very close."

"Really? Maybe he knows what has happened to me. He must know. That would explain the--" and Ron shook his finger in an imitation of the man. He was growing very excited. Something inside of him told him that he could find the answers, but as his excitement intensified, he suddenly became aware of Kalpita.

She was in a state of utter distress. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks, and her hands were shaking as they sat folded in her lap. Immediately, Ron's heart dropped into his stomach, his face fell, and his shoulders drooped.

"I'm so sorry, Kalpita," Ron whispered, staring at his hands in his lap. "I had no idea how this might affect you. I can't believe---I'm so idiotic."

"That's why you didn't stop me from touching your feet," she whispered, tears pouring from her eyes. "That's why you seemed so cold.... You don't remember. Nahi... You don't remember me."

"I'll fix this, Kalpita," Ron replied quickly, his voice determined. Reaching forward, he took her hands slowly into his, and he said, "I'll remember you." Placing his hand on her chin, he moved her to look into his eyes. Immediately upon locking eyes with her, he felt a welling of restlessness inside of his chest, and he whispered, "I promise you." Tears continued to stream down her cheeks, leaving behind crooked streaks that made her skin look even darker than what it was. Moving both hands to the sides of her face, Ron used his thumbs to wipe away the tears, and he repeated, "I promise you."

A split second later, there came a soft knock to the door. Jolting slightly in surprise, Ron stared as Kalpita hesitantly stood and walked across the room to the door. Pulling it open, she also wiped her tears away in a manner that was both sad and strong at the same time. "Namaste, Harry," Kalpita greeted with her hands clapped in front of her chin.

Ron heard Harry reply, "Namaste, Kalpita. Is Ron here? I think he and I need to discuss a few things."

"Certainly," Kalpita replied with a nod and opened the door fully, motioning for Ron to stand. Rising to his feet, Ron waited as Harry entered and Kalpita closed the door. "May I remain?" she asked after a moment, and Harry nodded in reply.

Walking to the foot of the bed, Kalpita sat, adjusting her sari nervously, hiding her sorrow with strong shoulders and somber chin. Ron continued to stand and stared over at Harry with a mixture of fear and relief in his eyes. His heart was beating hard and erratically against his ribcage, and he felt his stomach heave as he awaited Harry's next words. The strength that flowed from Kalpita's presence gave Ron courage as he walked slowly to his wife and sat next to her on the foot of the bed. This woman gave him a sense of stability, a comfort that he could not explain. He wanted to be as close to her as possible, and yet... his heart yearned for more. His thoughts alternated between Kalpita and Hermione as though they were the same person to him. His love for Hermione made him wish to stay close to Kalpita. He did not understand this feeling, and could not understand it though he fought hard to discern its meaning.

Harry, seeming nervous and apprehensive, paced to the window and sat down upon the wide sill, running his hand through his black mess of hair. "Ron," he said softly, fighting to think of the perfect words. "I've been thinking quite a lot, mate, and I just need to ask you a few questions."

"You need to know something, Harry," Kalpita somberly spoke from her place next to Ron. Harry immediately focused his stare upon her, seeming relieved to have strayed from his current train of thought. "Ron has no memory of the last fourteen years. He remembers only Hogwarts, yeah?" This she turned into a question, which she in turn directed at Ron. Ron nodded, his attitude anxious and uncomfortable as he awaited Harry's response.

There was a long silence as Harry looked from one to the other, his bright green eyes discerning and analyzing the gravity of the situation. "I thought that might be it," he finally let out in a sigh. Shaking his head, he reached into the pocket of his khaki trousers and withdrew his wand. Staring at it for long minutes, Harry let out a set of sighs, his eyes twinkling in thought behind his glasses. "Do you think it was a memory charm, perhaps?" Harry asked aloud, although he did not look up to indicate that his question was directed to Ron. Rather, he seemed to be talking to the strip of wood in his hands, as though the answers could be found in the patterns on the wand. "Should we try and relieve you of your forgotten memories?" he questioned once more, his eyes unmoving from the wand he held.

Kalpita looked to Ron, who stared incredulously at Harry, his brow knitted just above his nose. Out of habit, she reached up and fondled with his hair, running it between her slender fingers. Ron did not move at her touch. His eyes were fixed upon Harry as he discerned the situation.

"What do you think, Ron?" Harry finally looked up at his friend, his eyes sparkling. Ron only stared down at his hands, thinking.

Silence.

The ring of the telephone made all of them let out a gasp of surprise. Springing to her feet, Kalpita rushed to the bureau on the wall near the window and retrieved the telephone that rang from its place on the dresser top. Holding it to her ear, she greeted, "Ha." Her voice was sharp, quick, yet soft and delicate at the same time. Ron was amazed as he watched her listen to the voice on the line. Nodding, she said, "Ha, Raj."

Pacing to Ron, she held out the phone to him and said, "It's Raj. He wants to speak with you." Ron slowly took the receiver into his hands as Kalpita glanced at Harry and muttered, "About bloody time, yeah."

Hesitantly, Ron put the phone to his ear, uncomfortable and altogether unsure of what he was actually doing. "HELLO?" he nearly shouted into the mouthpiece. Immediately a voice came over through the part next to his ear, and it made Ron jump back in surprise.

"Hey, Ron. You still don't like using the phone, so I'll make this fast," the voice said. It was a smooth, confident voice that held no margin for error. "I saw Furhad this evening, and he said he saw you picking up Priya from her aunt's home after you left your work. He said you didn't look well at all, yeah. I was just calling to check on you, to see if everything was working all right. Everything turned out right, correct?"

Ron simply sat there, frozen to his seat as he listened to the silence over the line. His mouth hung open slightly, and his eyes squinted in confusion as they stared off into nothing.

"Ron?" the voice asked. "Kahan ho?"

"I'm here," he replied in a half-daze. "Who are you?"

There was laughter on the other end. Silly laughter, separated by the clapping of hands. "You are always so funny, Ron. You surely did not forget your sense of humor, did you?" The voice giggled for a few minutes before his laughter settled down to be replaced with an inquiry. "Ron? Is everything all right?" Silence. "Ron?"

"I'm sorry. What did you say your name was again? Raj? Was it Raj?"

The silence that ensued was deathly, broken only by Raj's sighs from the other end. It was obvious that he was analyzing Ron's voice to determine if he was jesting... or worse, being completely serious. His troubled sighs hoped for nothing more than a joke. But the silence that spread over the line spoke otherwise. "Ron, what do you remember?" Raj questioned after a very anxious silence.

"Er..." Ron muttered, letting his eyes stare out of the window to the sun as it barely peeked over the horizon. "How old am I again? Thirty-one? Right then. I can remember my seventeenth birthday, being Head Boy, a few other minor things at Hogwarts, and kissing Hermione goodnight. After that..." Ron went silent, trailing off in a half-whine, half-laugh. Another long silence ensued. And then from the other end:

"Shit."