Darkness is My Light

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Chapter 7

Ron Weasley was looking forward to his lunch break. He had been having a perfectly normal day, well as normal as his days were, creating the Ministry's secret weapons. He was currently trying to find his left shoe, which had been lost sometime in during the last explosion in his testing lab.

He let out a yelp of satisfaction when he spotted it pasted to the ceiling. He had a feeling that this exploding pendant was going to be a real moneymaker. The Ministry had been heaping demands on him for weapons that would cause a lot of damage. Not like he minded the deadlines; as far as he was concerned, he had the best job in existence.

Yet, the demands were getting heavy and he had been forced to approach his twin brothers for ideas. He had spent all of twelve minutes with them before he had more ideas than he could remember. But this pendant, this one was his idea. It was also exactly what the Ministry wanted: something small, unnoticeable, and would cause a lot of damage. This pendant was small and simple, but it sent out a magical blast capable of destroying everything with in a one-mile radius. He had even reached The Ministry's only requirement, that it wouldn't kill anyone. It had only taken three tries to reach this goal. And his back would feel his toils in the morning; being a thread away from death twice in four hours was quite enough to result in taking the rest of the day off. But he knew he wouldn't.

He clicked the light switch on his desk. The mirror on the far wall cleared up to show eight science interns and the Minister's advisor watching the experiment. He stood up straight, his clothes ruined but intact, except for his one shoe, and bowed. His audience exploded into applause. He grinned. This was definitely an invention to be proud of.

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Mirélla and Ron had gone out to lunch to celebrate. Ron wasn't exactly sure when he and his lab assistant had begun to do this going-places-together thing. All he knew was that he liked it. She gestured to the waiter for a bottle of Champagne. Ron quirked an eyebrow at her innocent expression; Mirélla never thought it was too early for alcohol. Not that Ron minded.

The waiter brought two glasses and the bottle with their lunch. Mirélla toasted to him and their glasses met. Ron smiled to her shyly over his glass rim, and her gaze never left his.

After their flirtatious moment, the two delved into everyday conversation, about things like work, family, and friends. Ron almost laughed at how naïve Mirélla was when she asked if the invention would result in a raise or a promotion. The girl was smart, but she wasn't so great at politics.

After lunch, Ron threw down for the bill and the two walked the four blocks back to the office. He wasn't sure exactly when it had happened, but when they reached the building, he was aware of her hand leaving his. Suddenly his hand felt cold, though his ears burned.

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The happy report that Ron's idea was a success was short-lived. He and Mirélla had simply picked up the next idea in the inbox and continued with work as usual. He closed the lab at half past midnight, some four hours after the rest of the staff had left.

He had become something like a workaholic in a way. H took weekends and vacations, and sometimes even half days; yet, he never left until the other staff was long gone. Some days he worked straight through the night until the first secretary came in at eight. Some days, he simply fell asleep at his desk while poring over his reports. He had begun to understand why Percy was always working late. He too hated leaving reports half-done.

He finally apparated to his flat downtown and fell onto his bed for seven hours of sleep that were blissfully littered with dreams of dates to come with Mirélla.

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Ron woke the next morning feeling more refreshed than he had the whole week. He even chose to apparate at a coffee shop before heading into work today. He ordered a Chai tea and wake-up mints.

He got to work at eight and thirty-two seconds according to the clock. Mirélla greeted him with a hug. She told him that he had a visitor in his office.

He went to go forward, but stopped. Mirélla looked at him from under a raised eyebrow. He smiled slightly as a blush crept up his cheeks. Before he could talk himself out of it, it took a leap of faith and leaned forward, giving her just the briefest touch of lips. When he pulled away from her, he was bright red. But she simply smiled shyly with the lightest tint of pink gracing her cheeks. "Dinner on Friday?"

He smiled widely at her, feeling like he was fifteen again. "Absolutely." And he kissed her again before almost tripping his way to his private office.

When he stepped inside his office, his words of regular greeting, which were poised on his lips, disappeared and were replaced by a wide smile. His guest turned to him, smiling as well, with a familiar greeting.

"Hullo Ron."

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