The Safest Place

THE SAFEST PLACE

by Pandora J.

*

"Could have happened to anyone, Molly. Wasn't just because he's young."

Ron had pressed his ear to the kitchen door listening to Moody come to his defense.

"But it didn't happen to anyone, did it?" he heard his mother say, "It happened to him. I can't have it happen to him, Alastor. I just can't."

"The boy needs something to do."

"Not this!"

"Molly...."

"The Order have my other sons. They're of age. It's their choice. Don't ask me for my youngest. You can't have Ron."

I'm sixteen for God's sake! I'm not five!

He'd thrown himself backward against the wall in frustration, and knew immediately it had been the wrong thing to do, as the pain shot through him again.

Bugger!

He was missing the rest of the conversation. He had leaned his head against the door again, hoping for something more. Silence. Then Moody's wooden leg on the floor coming toward him. He'd stepped back from the door, trying to look like he'd just arrived downstairs. There was no fooling Moody though, his magical eye would have seen Ron there all long.

"Sorry boy," Mad-Eye had said, as he passed Ron in the corridor, "I tried. She's just trying to keep you safe."

A few more steps and a sharp crack behind him told him Moody had Disapperated.

He was alone and angry. He stepped into the kitchen, his frustration boiling.

"Ah, there you are, Ron," his mother had said brightly, "have you taken your potions?"

Ron had exploded. Looking back now, he couldn't really even remember what he had said. He knew it had included such things as: It's not fair! I can't believe you're treating me like this!, I'm not a ruddy baby! and his personal worst: I can't wait till next year when I can finally be rid of you! -the words still stabbed at his conscience. The sheer volume of his argument had set off Mrs. Black upstairs and caused Ginny, Kingsley and Lupin -the only other occupants of the house at the time- to come running. He'd been horrible, he really had. He'd never gotten that angry before. He'd finished his tirade and stood staring at his mother waiting for her usual rebuttal but none was forthcoming. Then, quite suddenly, she'd burst into tears and run from the room. Ginny had gone after her mother. Professor Lupin had looked him firmly and said, "Was that really necessary, Ron?"

It wasn't and he knew it. It was all his own stupid fault anyway. If he'd just been paying a bit more attention.

He and Bill had been returning from an errand in Hertford. Winds were bad and they had gone north hoping for a more favourable breeze. That's when they had seen red sparks shoot up in darkness. They'd followed the signal and at Watton-on-Stone they had come across Fearghus Foghorn, one of the eldest members of the Order and two Death Eaters. Ron had stayed on his broom and had run interference, tried to make a nuisance of himself, while Bill went down to help Foghorn. The Death Eaters had turned to flee, when a final curse, deflected, hit Ron's broom. It had burst into flame. Ron fell and if it hadn't been for a quick slowing spell from Foghorn, he would likely have become a permanent fixture in a backyard football pitch. As it was he hit the ground violently -his arms and right leg burning.

The physical pain he could handle---a few days at St. Mungo's, boring, but tolerable. It was his mother's reaction; effectually banning him from all other work for the Order. This, of course, had led him to his tirade in the kitchen.

He had eventually apologised, following his mum around the kitchen the next morning on his knees, until she had threaten to hex him in that position permanently.

"I'm sorry Ron," she had said to him, "my heart can't risk it."

She had forgiven him and he, in turn, had resigned himself to his fate. So, for the past two weeks he had done nothing but carry trunks upstairs, shush visitors in the corridor, feed Buckbeak and the menagerie of owls, and finally get rid of the old troll's leg umbrella stand in the hall so that Tonks couldn't knock it over every time she entered the house.

The house itself had undergone a great deal of changes as well. A new room or more accurately, a stable, had been added on the roof specifically to house a certain hippogriff. Buckbeak's old accommodation, after much cleaning and disinfecting, had become Ron's bedroom, with a set of bunks for whatever brothers needed to stay. The Order had grown so rapidly that all the bedrooms in the lower house had all been given over to various witches and wizards who came and went almost daily. In fact a large blood red velvet curtain was soon added to Ron's room cutting it in two, Ginny was moved in on the other side and it became simply 'the children's room.'

***

The twins arrived Thursday night. It was Lee's turn to work the weekend so Fred and George didn't have to be back until Monday morning. His mother was thrilled.

They spent a large part of Friday afternoon sampling the latest in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, including chewing gum that made a steady stream of sudsy bubbles pour out of your ears, nose and mouth while you chewed and chocolate after dinner mints that may or may not turn you a violent shade of pink. Fake wands abounded turning into rubber rats, or rubber chickens, or more surprisingly, real ones, at the most inappropriate times.

Having two of his brothers back in the house for however short a period of time had certainly raised Ron's spirits. Then on Friday evening they were given another boost. His mother came into the bedroom shortly after dinner. She conjured a small rather lopsided door from Ginny's side of the room to the main hall, she added two new beds and then to top it off she put a spell on the curtain. It could no longer be drawn and you couldn't lift it up to go underneath it either. Oh, you could still talk through it, still scare your sister through it, if she was foolish enough to stand too close to the other side. But now if you tried to lift it up it simply extended itself back down to the floor.

"Don't know why you bothered Mum," George had commented, "Tonks could flatten all three of us with a single curse."

"So could Hermione," added Fred.

"When are they coming?" Ginny asked.

"Sometime tomorrow dear," came their mother's response.

"Yes." Ginny clapped her hands. "Finally, I won't be so outnumbered."


***


It was late Saturday afternoon and Ron was laying on his bed spouting green and purple bubbles. He was getting quite good at it too. He'd found that if he put a clothespin on his nose, his fingers in his ears and concentrated he could blow different shapes out of his mouth. Ginny lay on the floor in fits as Ron sent purple broomsticks diving at her head. Fred and George, one pink the other now a vibrant orange, sat on the top bunk discussing why indeed George was orange.

"I wasn't really paying attention, but I think I chewed the dark pink with a yellow. Or maybe it was red and yellow. I didn't think we'd charmed the red ones."

Fred jumped down.

"Hey Ginny. Want to make some silver?"

"How long does it last?" she asked suspiciously.

"Couple of hours or so. Unless you chew a clear one that'll clean it up."

"Prove it first."

George hopped down rooted around the bag and came up with a clear mint. He popped it in his mouth and almost immediately turned yellow. Slight panic flashed across his face but he covered with a laugh.

"Two colours probably requires two mints," Fred offered.

"Oh yeah, right." George dug for another one. Soon he was back to normal. Fred was still hot pink but it didn't seem to faze him.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Take a handful, all seven colours chew them all at once."

"Are there seven clear ones left?"

Fred shook the bag and peered in. "Sure," he said doubtfully.

"Make it a Galleon," she responded. "Double if Mum has to put me right."

"She's getting smarter," he muttered to Ron.

It was then they heard it: a thundering of feet on the stairs and a series of loud cracks, as if every witch and wizard in the house were on the move at once. Mrs. Black immediately began screaming her insults in the hallway, adding to the din.

"What the...?" Ron sprang off his bed.

"Come on." Fred headed for the door.

They were downstairs in seconds; standing in the kitchens. Witches and wizards were Apperating all around them checking a large map on the wall and Disapperating again. Ron briefly saw Bill, Kingsley, his Father. He moved closer to the map. Various locations were flashing in red. From Galway to Folkstone as far north as The Orkneys. They were under attack.

"Blimey," a young wizard on his left exclaimed and was gone.

"Mum?" he heard Fred. They were all around him: Fred, George, Ginny, his mother.

"I need you here," she said firmly. "We've been expecting... It's the preemptive, before they make the big move on Azkaban. They want to see how strong we are. We've got to show them. I've got to go. If Tonks and Hermione aren't here by morning send Pig to Charlie. Be back as soon as I can."

"Mum!" Ron found his voice. She said nothing but kissed each of them quickly, stepped back and Disapperated. A short while later they found themselves alone in the house.

The twins normally jovial attitude became quite somber. They spoke in whispers, analysed the map on the wall and gave direction to the various heads that appeared in the fire, and any witch or wizard that appeared in the room. Ron and Ginny were sent to scrounge up some dinner.


***

Ron sat watching the map eating his sandwiches. Fred and Ginny were engrossed in a game of wizard chess, which, the now rose coloured Fred, seemed to be losing. So Tonks and Hermione are coming tonight. Tonks and Hermione are flying through this. Hermione is flying through this. Ron felt the bottom fall out of his stomach.

"I should feed Buckbeak." He pushed back from the table and was soon taking the stairs two at a time to the top of the house.

There was no moon so Ron opened the large doors and let Buckbeak out. "Ten minutes only, mate. It's a bad night." The Hippogriff seemed to understand. He spread his wings and disappeared into the darkness. Ron dumped the bag of rats in the corner, and sat down in the open doorway. It was still raining. He was getting soaked but he didn't care. They should have been here by now. Where are they? Ron squinted trying to make out any shape in the night.

"Don't worry, they'll be here."

He jumped as George came up behind him. "Tonks may be young but she's a damn good auror."

Ron nodded.

"Probably just the storm slowing them down," George continued. "Hate to say it but your Hermione's not the best flyer."

Your Hermione? Ron gave George a quizzical look.

George just raised his eyebrows, defiant. "Go on, get inside. If you're sick when Mum gets back it's my head." They had just stepped back into the room when a rush of night air told them Buckbeak was returning. He landed with a clatter behind them a small deer in his large talon.

"Well done Beaky," George commended.

"See I needn't have bothered with the rats." Ron shook his head as he and George closed the great doors. "That better not have come from the zoo. He got a zebra last week."


***


Ron lay in the darkness of his bedroom staring at the blank wall wishing sleep would take him soon; that this day would just be over. Ginny was asleep, as was Fred. George was downstairs. The twins had thought that sleeping in shifts was best. Ron had moved his bed right up against the curtain so when Tonks and Hermione did eventually arrive they might wake him up.

Just after 1:00 am. he got his wish. The click of the door on Ginny's side of the room woke him, a dim yellow light appeared. He heard voices.

"She's got you in here," he heard George say. "Don't worry about Ginny, freight train couldn't wake her. S'all right, I'll get the trunk."

"Thanks." Tonks this time.

"All part of the service."

"I'll be down shortly." Tonks again.

"Take your time. And Hermione, finish the hot chocolate, there's a special ingredient that'll help you sleep. Don't worry, it's just firewhiskey but it works. It'll warm you up too. If you need anything I'm downstairs, Fred and Ron are just there. Goodnight."

"Thanks George." He heard a small voice say, barely above a whisper. Hermione. Ron breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She was here, safe, right next door.

"First things first," Tonks said softly, "you need to get warm, dry and preferably unconscious. So finish your drink and I'll see about your bed. Warming charm ought to do it. Let's see if a remember. Mum is brilliant with this one. First let's have a bit more room here." A bed on the other side was pushed out of the way and bumped up against his own. "Perfect. Now, what was that spell? Oh yes." She spoke a series of words in a language Ron couldn't understand. Irish? no..., Welsh? Bit long for warming spell.

"There we are," continued Tonks, "the warmest, safest place in all of London. Guaranteed. Now I'll be downstairs with George if you need me. Remember Ron's right through there. If you need him I'm sure he won't mind if you wake him."

Course not, Ron smiled to himself.

"You did really well tonight Hermione."

"Thank you Tonks, for everything."

"No worries. You'll be okay if I go now?"

"I'm fine, really."

But she was lying and Ron knew it. There was a clicking of the door as Tonks left. A short time later the little yellow light flickered and went out. The bed beside his creaked as she climbed into it. He held his breath as he listened to her soft breathing. He was just drifting off when he heard her catch her breath. And again. On the other side of the curtain Hermione Granger was crying.

Ron rolled onto his side and moved as close to the curtain as he could get without touching it. "Hermione," he whispered. "Hermione?" He heard her inhale deeply and hold her breath, composing herself.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't."

"I'm just tired."

"I don't believe you."

There was a long silence before she responded again.

"I'm scared."

That he believed. "We're all scared."

"Yes, but.... Never mind you wouldn't understand."

What does she mean, wouldn't understand!

"Try me," he found himself saying in a calm, even voice.

"I wasn't sure I should come back this year."

That did surprise him. In fact he had no idea what to say to that, so he just waited.

She continued, "When things go wrong in our world your family are right here. I mean, they understand each other, they come together, stand together...."

Okay, that much I know.

"Half your family are out there right now. Don't you worry?"

"I always worry. But I also know they're really good wizards and Mum's a really good witch. And I know they'll look out for each other. Besides, if I were up all night worrying it would scare Ginny, then what kind of brother would I be?"

So what is her point? What is she so worried about?

"My parents are dentists," she said simply. "When Tonks came for me this morning my mother cried. She didn't want me to go. With everything that's going on and what happened last year... She's afraid she'll never see me again. I'm scared too. What if something happens and I'm not there?"

Feeling terribly useless, Ron squeezed her hand through the thickness of the curtain. He'd never thought of this before. He was so used to Harry's attitude toward his muggle family, he had never stopped to think of Hermione. He had just assumed that everyone that lived with muggles would of course much rather be with wizards. He'd met Hermione's parents on several occasions; they were kind, decent people who obviously loved her very much. She was right, he could never really understand. What would it be like to find out at the age of eleven that you didn't belong in your parents' world and then to spend the majority of your time for the next six years apart from the people you love and who love you most? He suddenly didn't feel like a very good friend.

"What changed your mind?" he asked.

"Tonks," Hermione replied. "She asked me what I'd do if I was at home and we were attacked. I said I didn't know and she said: You'd all die. So I said, at least we'd all die together. Then Mum said I had to go."

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I never...."

Then something happened that Ron hadn't expected. Hermione turned toward him and everything changed. Suddenly her head was on his shoulder, her arm thrown across his chest, her sobs now muffled in the folds of his blankets. He nearly started.

The curtain that had hung between them now formed a neat tent above that gave off an odd warm glow. "We were over Huntingdon...," she paused, the emotion of the day seeming to overtake her, she choked on her breath. "He just killed her! No warning. He hit her in the back!" The flood gates opened.

"What happened? Who's dead?"

"I don't know," she stammered. "A witch. I'd never seen her before. There was a battle... an attack... I don't know, we came over the old church and it was just suddenly there. Loads of people. She was fighting a pair of Dementors when a wizard stepped from the shadow behind her. He just killed her. Just a flash of green light and she fell. Tonks hit him with something, not sure what. Suddenly there were four more. I did my best... I've never been so scared. Then Moody was there too and Kingsley Shacklebolt was yelling at Tonks to get me the hell away. She shaking now, sobbing violently.

Ron pulled the bedclothes up around her, held tight and let her cry. He waited, feeling rather helpless; he was no good at this. What was he supposed to do? Her sobbing eventually soften and slowed, he felt her body relax. "Shh," whispered into her hair. "It's going to be all right. I promise."

"Don't promise me that Ron. You can't know."

"But I do." She didn't respond so he just kept talking. "Do you remember your first time on the Hogwarts express?"

"What?"

Slower. "Do you remember your first time on the Hogwarts express?"

"Yes," she sniffed, seemingly grateful for the change of subject.

"Vividly."

"Were you nervous?"

"Terrified."

"But then you met me and Harry and everything changed."

"I suppose it did."

"First impressions, by the way."

"Well, okay. I'd read a lot about Harry. But I was...."

"Not Harry. Me."

"Oh, about you." Hermione turned to face him moving her arm to his shoulder and resting her chin on it. Her eyes were still red, her face tearstained but she was smiling softly. She considered him for a moment.

"A bit scruffy," she concluded.

"Thanks a lot."

"Well, as I recall, you did have dirt on your face and a mouthful of chocolate frog."

"All right, fair enough," he smiled.

"Me now."

"You?"

"Me."

"I thought you were pretty."

"Oh please." She blushed pink and slid back down her head coming to rest once more on his shoulder.

"I did, honestly. Completely mental but pretty."

"Well thank you. Except for the mental part, that I must protest. Exuberant perhaps?"

"Barking," he offered. She was laughing now.

"So, what are you saying?"

"Well, aside from trying to get you to admit you're a bit of a nutter...."

"Never."

"My point is you've got us. Me and Harry. And with me, well I'm a packaged deal, nine Weasleys for the price of one. So really you've got Mum and Dad, who by the way adore you. Then there's Bill -that means Fleur too, Charlie -some dragons, I don't know, Percy -if you'll take him, Fred and George -nuff said, Ginny - small but frightening, and best of all yours truly."

She giggled.

"So... feel any better?"

"Loads." She hugged him.

"Good. Hope that's not just the firewhiskey talking."

"No."

"So close your eyes and I'll tell you a story."

"Nothing scary."

"No, it's about Buckbeak."

He launched into his story of Buckbeak vs. The London Zoo. "...honestly, I mean, I only saw the back end of it but it was striped and I can't think of where else he got it. He was only gone an hour or so. Can you... Hermione?"

"Hermione?" He looked down. She was fast asleep.

He smiled at her, brushed the stray hair from her face and kissed her forehead. He closed his eyes, and as he fell asleep it occurred to him that Tonks had been right; Warmest, safest place in London.


THE END