Will You Ever Return to Me?

Episode II: The Boundaries of Hatred

Chapter 1.

March 2002, Las Vegas, Nevada.

If, even two years ago, someone told me I'd be doing this in the future--and like it--I'd have hexed them, Ron thought.

He was busy in the kitchen, keeping an eye on baby Caroline and another on the cooking dinner. He hoped Hermione wouldn't stay working late--she didn't do it often, but Ron always worried when she did--experimental magic could be dangerous, and that's what Hermione's job involved. Or at least, as much as she was allowed to tell Ron. That was the worst part of it--the need for secrecy. The argument over it nearly destroyed their marriage when Hermione was first offered it. He still dreaded the memories of those few weeks. He still didn't like it, though, and extracted a promise from Hermione that they would reconsider their arrangement in a few years, when Caroline was older. But for now, he was settled in, and didn't think he needed to regret anything. He had Hermione, he had Caroline, and he was happy.

A loud bang on the front door distracted him. Caroline sat up and began to crawl towards the sound. The bang was repeated three more times.

Ron didn't expect this. They rarely had guests, and when they did, they met them at a Portkey depot in the local office of the American Department of Magic. Their house had wards placed on it to prevent the Muggles in the neighborhood from noticing the magic in or around it. Hermione tutored him in Muggle ways, and in all the time they lived here, the Muggles suspected nothing. Still, Ron hoped this wasn't the Muggle authorities after them for some reason--he didn't fancy having to do any Memory Charms.

The knock repeated. Caroline was almost at the door when Ron picked her up. "No, no... let daddy deal with it first," he said, putting her back into the playpen. He then crossed the room and opened the door.

An instinct he developed in the war kicked in, and Ron had this wand at the ready before he knew it. The figure standing before him brought back the dreaded image... Fenrir Greyback, Voldemort's werewolf follower, ready to tear Hermione apart... Ron rushing the monster and tackling him to the ground... the werewolf overpowering him, trying to strangle him, his scarred, gray, animal face inches from his... Ron sticking his wand into Greyback's side... two words... the dead body falling on top of him... Ron, terrified of what he'd just done...

And the man standing in front of him now looked like Greyback reincarnated. Deeply sunk eyes stared at him, but he still couldn't tell what color they were. He had grayed, pasty skin, and long, dirty, unkempt black hair. The man's robes, also of an uncertain color, were barely more than rags. He looked more emaciated than Ron thought it was possible to be and remain alive.

Caroline saw the man, despite Ron standing in the doorway. She started crying.

This made Ron mad. He aimed his wand at the man. "Who are you?" he demanded

"Ron..." the man croaked, and collapsed, nearly falling on top of him. Ron kneeled, still holding the wand on him. But this was no trick--he nearly passed out. Ron took a closer look at his face.

That caused him to scream.