Disclaimer - I am borrowing characters from the world of Harry Potter and plot devices from The Time Traveler's Wife. I am neither JK Rowling nor Audrey Niffenegger, oh for that much talent!
Dedicated to Beth (Rupertlovesme) who loves it when I make her cry almost as much as she loves Ron
"You are still a whisper on my lips
A feeling at my fingertips
That's pulling at my skin
You leave me when I'm at my worst
Feeling as if I've been cursed
Bitter cold within
Days go by and still I think of you
Days when I couldn't live my life without you
March 6th 1998. Ron and Hermione are 18.
"No I've got it Hermione, I swear."
"You haven't got it though have you? If you had it you wouldn't be searching so frantically for it now."
HERMIONE: Merlin he could be so stubborn!
"I had it in my hand just a minute ago, it's right here...somewhere."
I watched Ron as he scowled at his own jacket, shaking it out furiously and patting down the sleeves and pockets yet again, with that look of determined frustration on his face. His ears were going pink and he huffed. We were just leaving our flat to go and visit Harry, Neville, Seamusand the twins in Diagon Alley when he realised that he didn't have his wand on him. We had been standing on the kerbside for five minutes searching for it. He was right though, he had it just a moment ago, I saw him put it in his jacket pocket myself just before he rushed to the toilet to be sick and, inexplicably, get naked.
I blame the drinking myself. Well ok, not just the drinking, I blame the older brother who ought to have known better for the drinking. Charlie had just come back from a long stint in Hungry and wanted to take his siblings for a night on the town. Ron had staggered home in a right state, he was naked then too, I hope this isn't going to become a habit. Don't get me wrong, I love naked Ron, I'd just prefer him to be naked in context that's all.
"Maybe it fell out of your pocket when you passed out in the bathroom," I ventured.
"I had it, I had it when I got dressed, it was still in my pocket," he hissed.
Oh great, just what I needed, Ron in a foul mood before the day's even begun.
I kept reminding myself that he wasn't cross with me, he was still confused from his disorientating blackout striptease just now. When I had walked in on him he looked at me as if I'd just splinched myself and began to ramble something about him having been outside and me being pregnant.
Merlin that would be a nightmare!
"I had it Hermione, I had it all the way down the stairs, it disappeared when I got outside I'm telling you."
He finished his mini rant and saw that I wasn't taking his mood to heart and let out a sigh.
"Look I'm sorry but this isn't anything to do with my hangover, I know you think I've just put it down somewhere and forgotten it but I know I had it babe, I know I did."
Babe. It still makes me blush when he says it. It's quite a new term of endearment but he manages to slip one in every now and then like it's no big deal but I've noticed that he tends to use it when losing an argument or trying to win me over with the Weasley charm.
"I'm not calling you a liar Ron, you know I'm not, but you were really confused when you woke up you have to admit that," I paused long enough for him to shrug, not convinced at all that I could be right, "All I'm saying is that it wouldn't hurt to go and take another look inside, retrace your steps maybe?"
He was about to respond when he was interrupted by a giggle. We both looked down at the source of this sound to see a little red-haired child with a dirty face and a huge grin. She was wearing a t-shirt that almost dragged along the floor and was bare foot. She had enormous brown eyes and her hands were outstretched and presenting Ron with his missing wand.
"Oh thank you!" he gasped with relief, "Where'd you find it?"
Ron took the wand from the beaming little girl and tucked it securely in the back pocket of his jeans.
"It rolled down the stairs and floated along the gutter so I picked it up."
The child looked so overjoyed to be speaking to Ron that I wondered if they were related in some way, there was actually a resemblance.
"Well thank you again," Ron smiled as he squatted down and shook the little girl's hand, "that ol' stick is very important to me."
Again the girl giggled and smiled, reluctantly letting go of Ron's hand I noticed, before speaking in a theatrical whisper.
"It's a wand."
Ron's eyebrows shot up and disappeared into his hair, he looked up at me briefly before glancing up and down the street.
"You're a little witch aren't you?"
The girl nodded and I squatted down beside Ron so we were all at eye level. I felt that maternal feeling I always used to get whenever I was talking to Neville in one of his despondent moods.
"Where are your mummy and daddy, are you lost?" I asked in my most non-threatening voice.
"Mummy's at home waiting for me, I'll go back in a minute," she said without worry, "and daddy's in the hospital, he's not very well."
I tried not to look sorry for the brave little thing, she seemed so happy right now.
"Oh that's a shame," Ron frowned as he rubbed the girl's arm in a comforting manner, "I'm sure he's getting better though."
The little girl fixed Ron with a fiercely confident stare; her brown eyes alight with joy.
Ron was slightly startled by that and looked at me, non-verbally pleading for instructions on how to deal with such a question."
"Well he can't but we're both sure everything will be fine. The doctors at St Mungo's are brilliant."
"Yeah," Ron nodded, "they made my dad better when he wasn't well."
The little girl seemed to shake with contained excitement.
"From the snake!"
Ron blinked, his jaw hanging open briefly before leaning in and staring at the little girl closely.
"Do I know you?"
The little girl suddenly threw her arms around Ron and hugged him as tightly as she could.
"Remember I made you promise," she whispered into his ear before letting him go and running off down the street, "I'm going home now, bye!"
Ron looked at me, dumbfounded, before we both set off after the little girl who had turned the first corner not far away but when we reached the corner ourselves she was nowhere to be seen.
"Do you think she's alright?" I asked, biting my bottom lip in that way I do that prevents me from wearing lipstick.
"I guess so," Ron said, still scanning the street for any trace of her, "she must live nearby if she's wandering around barefoot mustn't she?"
We walked back to our apparition point inside the vandalised telephone box on the corner.
"Is she a second cousin of yours or something?" I speculated, as it was pretty clear Ron seemed to semi-recognise her.
"I don't know of anybody in the family being in St Mungo's at the moment. Maybe the twins'll have heard something. Speaking of them, come on we're late."
RON: I had been surprised that Hermione hadn't nagged me more over the couple of blackouts I'd had since my birthday, it really was unlike her as she does love to nag, but then I saw her master plan in action when we arrived at Diagon Alley. She just casually happened to casually mention it in the most un-deliberate casual way to Fred, George and Harry in the hope that one of them would not-so-casually threaten to grass me up to my mother and have me ordered to see a medi wizard immediately.
It had worked to.
"Hello my friend here needs to see someone about his head please," Harry said with his best chocolate frog card smile as we reached the sullen looking receptionist at the accident and emergency desk in St Mungo's
"What's wrong with it?" she said while staring at me and filing my image away for future reference as a time waster.
She was as thin as a broom handle and had thick black rimmed glasses in the shape of cat's eyes, a beak-like nose and straggly brown hair half-heartedly gathered into a loose bun at the back of her head.
"Well we don't know that, that's why we need to see a medi wizard or witch if you wouldn't mind," Harry said, determined that he was being charming even though the woman was reacting to him as if he had stepped in a dog turd and now expected her to remove it from his shoe for him.
Again the receptionist looked me over with her cynical gaze. I was feeling fine and I really didn't want to put up with all this crap just to be told I had a hangover. I'd just turned eighteen for crying out loud, what did everyone expect?
"Come on mate, I told you it's nothing," I said as I tugged at Harry's arm and took a step towards the exit.
Harry grabbed me by the sleeve and yanked me back over to the desk, well practically into the desk actually, and his grin remained but seemed somewhat tense now.
"Is there any way we could get my friend checked out do you think?"
The woman pulled a face that looked like a greyhound chewing a bee.
"Well maybe I could get him seen right away by someone if there was actually something, y'know...oh what's the word? That's it, wrong with him!"
Harry's grin was gone now and he leaned forward and growled under his breath while I folded my arms and silently cursed Hermione and her big bloody mouth.
"My friend is having blackouts and...well it's causing other strange behaviour and I'd really appreciate if it you could drop the attitude and pick up your appointment book and tell us who's free and where to find them."
Again the scrawny receptionist eyeballed me and I turned my back on her with a shake of the head.
"You see sir the problem we're having is this, only a tiny little thing but still it's worth pointing out I feel, if you look at the sign above my head here you'll find that it does in fact say accident and emergency. Has your friend had an accident?"
I didn't hear Harry responding but I could've sworn that I saw steam coming out of his ears.
"No," the queen of sarcasm continued without emotion, "and would you call a couple of little headaches an emergency? Would you call it that sir? Because I don't really think that it is you know?"
I found myself trying not to laugh now, she was actually quite good at being difficult, it was entertaining because it was happening to Harry while he was annoying me.
"Listen..." Harry began, his voice straining not to yell.
"No sir I think you need to listen to me," she interrupted, "we have people waiting, people who are actually hurt and bleeding, if you care to look over there you'll see that Mr Block has a small shrub growing out of the top of his head at quite an alarming rate. I think that calls for a head specialist more than a perfectly healthy looking young man who seems to think he's absolutely fine and is being made to make a nuisance of himself by an over zealous friend with an unchecked ego."
I snorted and Harry glared at me, this was getting really hard not to laugh at now.
"Are you telling me," Harry snapped back at the receptionist, "that unless you can actually see the problem with your own, may I say unqualified, eyes then there isn't really a problem at all? Maybe you'd prefer it if I embedded an axe into my friend's head and then you would be convinced that he needs to see someone quite urgently."
"Well if you were to get your hands on an axe maybe you could put it to better use chopping down that small tree sprouting out of poor Mr Block's scalp."
I grabbed Harry and pulled him away from the desk while letting a little of my built-up laughter go, much to his annoyance.
"Look mate I feel fine, it's just a hangover, I bet it's one of those foreign shots Charlie bought me the other night, he kept saying hoogadaboogada every time I said the word breasts after he had his third."
Harry's stony facade crumpled on hearing this and he chuckled.
"Why were you saying breasts in the first place?"
"To make him say hoogadaboogada."
Harry shook his head and laughed. We turned to leave when I remembered my strange encounter with what must've been a distant relative that morning and went back over to the receptionist.
"Excuse me would you be able to tell me if there are any wizards called Weasley in the hospital at the moment?"
Harry joined me and frowned while the woman stared at me as if to warn me not to start with her.
"That's all I want from you, just to know that, and then I'll go away and I promise to take my friend with me."
This seemed to win her over immediately and she scanned her wand over a large scroll of parchment before looking up.
"There are no wizards called Weasley in this hospital and haven't been since a Mr Percy Weasley was admitted by his bothers for psychiatric analysis against his will."
I tried not to smirk at the twins' last attempt to torture Percy, my pompous brother who hasn't spoken to anybody in the family in years, while the receptionist looked back up at me with a huff and pushed her glasses back up her giant hook of a nose.
"Before that the same wizard was booked in for an emergency procedure to remove his head from his rectum but that turned out to be a hoax."
I nodded and amazed myself by keeping my face straight as I stepped back and turned to leave.
"Oh yeah of course it was, obvious hoax that, I mean why would he want to remove it? He likes it there."
Harry snorted so hard that snot almost shot out of his nose and we both staggered out of St Mungos's in hysterics.
We saw Hermione charging down Diagon Alley to meet us with that no nonsense look on her face and Harry took a step behind me slightly as she was almost upon us.
"Coward," I mumbled out of the corner of my mouth.
"What? She's your girlfriend."
"Well?" she said, folding her arms across her chest and her eyes wide.
"Like I said," I beamed my most convincing grin at her, it was easy actually, I just had to remember the look on the receptionist's face as we left, "it's just a hangover. They actually gave me a bollocking for time wasting, there was a bloke there with a tree growing out of his head."
Harry nodded over my shoulder, Hermione looked unconvinced.
"Hangover eh? So what tests did they do?"
"Pft, I don't know, I'm not a medi wizard am I? They just did tests, asked questions, asked me how many fingers they were holding up."
She took a step towards me, her hard exterior softening slightly but the look of suspicion still set in her eyes.
"If it happens again I'm telling your mother."
I kissed her on the end of her nose and gave her a hug.
A/N This fic will be written from both Ron and Hermione's perspectives. I'm not sure of the dates exactly so I am writing this as if Ron was born March 1st 1980, sorry if that's incorrect.
This narrative style is going to be very different to everything else I've done before so I hope it works. It will either go spectacularly well or crash and burn in flames...wish me luck!