This was for the donation to charity of $25 made by queenb23. All she asked was for Ron/Hermione from me.

I'd just seen King Lear at the Royal Shakespeare Company in Stratford Upon Avon and was very caught up with a troubled skinny hero in a loincloth and it turned into a fic about global wizarding politics!

There is an uncensored version on Live Journal if you are naughty. Otherwise here's a dozen chapters (give or take after editing) of Ron the married man, new father, and Diplomatic Auror.

Ron El Greco

In 2007 Auror Ronald Weasley put himself forward for promotion to be the Foreign Minister for wizarding relations. He contested the way the Overseas Ministries turned the other cheek to the corrupt ways of their Auror departments. He was going to clean up the justice systems where he could and expose dictatorships so at least the helpless could see that there would be somebody willing to fight for them if they tried to overthrow their oppressors.

It was all very Harry of him.

But he wasn't doing it to be a hero. He wasn't doing it for a sense of personal justice. He wasn't doing it because he was the only one who could.

Ron Weasley stood against them because they'd screwed him over and, in turn, turned a blind eye to rape, torture and false imprisonment.

He didn't get the promotion. An old boy with a bulbous red nose stayed in the job he only appeared to do. A bottle of Firewhiskey a day, a bottle he didn't pay for, and a nodding head. The Minister stepped in and step back when politics dictated it.

His wife, Hermione, wrote a memoir of her time with him during the work he did leading up to his failure to change the world for the better. This story is a version of that memoir.

Ron Weasley was a great Auror, a fair minded man, and braver than he was naive. He was sent to Crete to act as Ambassador, pregnant wife towing along as her maternity leave had forced her to stop working in the magical law department anyway, and they had spent six months living amongst the most cultured and classically trained witches and wizards in the world. Hermione loved submerging herself in the history of the place. Muggle philosophers one day, magical anthropologists the next, and a baby the voluptuous housekeeper called Rhoda. To Ron and Hermione she was Rose.

Greece was the best time in their lives.

The transfer to Madrid was deemed a promotion but it didn't feel that way after falling for the first placement so very hard. Madrid was lovely. They too doted on Rose and stimulated Hermione's intellect, but they didn't seem to think that Ron's job was anything other than a ceremonial one. If there was a reception to honour the Spanish Minister for Magic, Ron would be there and everybody would want to shake his hand.

It was when Kingsley sent word that a Scottish Auror had gone missing in AndalucĂ­a, and Ron tried to ask some simple questions to the Auror department about how to get a team together to look for him, that he realised that he wasn't anything but a mascot of Britain to them. He may as well have been a waxwork to show what a representative of the British Ministry looked like.

He was shut out, information kept from him, and he was warned off in a particularly forceful manner simply for travelling to AndalucĂ­a to meet up with the local wizarding community.

They kept referring to him having come from Greece. He was constantly reminded that 'this is not like Greece, we don't do things like that'. It was as if Greece was his oldest brother, Bill, much admired, the first and the cleverest for so long, and so knowledgeable in the ancient magic, while Spain was another brother, Percy. Percy was even more intelligent, he was diligent and thorough and overshadowed by siblings who garnered more praise before younger ones came along and seemed to absorb the rest of the admiration.

A little resentment, but a loving, brotherly resentment.

Spain had a point to prove. Spain didn't need to be told how Crete was brilliant and how the Greek Ministry did things. The Spanish Minister for Magic even nicknamed Ron. He was Ron El Greco, Ron the Greek, and after standing up to the Spanish Ministry and finding the missing Auror he was reassigned within the day.

They had been there for six weeks and now they were packing again.

"I'm sorry."

He'd sighed his apology as he wrestled Rose's collapsible buggy into it's folded position.

"Don't apologise for being a husband I can be proud of," Hermione said as she cleaned up Rose's pink bottom.

"Yeah but it's not fair to move you twice so soon, not with a new baby."

"The baby doesn't know where she is and the nappies will need changing wherever we go." Hermione squeezed the bottle of baby powder and a little white cloud billowed up and hit Ron in the face.

He sputtered and waved his hands before him, while Hermione laughed and then puffed some powder onto the baby's bottom.

"She'll know if her daddy's proud of his day's work and if he's frustrated at just being a meeter and greeter for some stuck up politician's parties.

Ron ruffled his hair, sending the white powder floating to the floor between them, and Hermione reached over to wipe a smear of it from his cheek.

"See what you girls do to me? I'm getting white hair!"

"You look very distinguished."

"Maybe if I developed a drinking problem or started taking bribes, maybe then they'd let me play with their soldiers."

Hermione gave him a look, then set about putting a fresh nappy on Rose.

"Okay, I'm aware that sounded strange."

Hermione finished up with Rose and picked her up, smiling widely, and then handed her to her father.

"Hello, do I get you all clean? Do I get a sweet on the nosey little Rosie?"

"You know how I feel about baby talk," Hermione warned.

"Mummy's just jealous because I don't tell her she smells nice anymore," Ron said to his baby daughter, "but she doesn't. No, she doesn't does she? No. She smells like Rosie bum-bum all the time!"

Hermione swatted him with the baby changing bag and then stuffed it into a larger baby maintenance bag.

"Daddy can change you the next few times and I'll smell like daises."

"I'm not scared of my Rosie's Technicolor poo-poo, no I'm not."

Hermione looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Not any more," he added.

Hermione smirked.

They left Spain with Rose in Ron's arms right until they Apparated across the border. If he was holding his baby the Aurors, ordered to be threatening and ensure that he knew he wasn't welcome back, would simply watch them go rather than be as intimidating as ordered. He and Hermione both knew this was the reason he had been handed their daughter.

They had found themselves in less enlightened countries before, places where Muggleborn/Pureblood marriages were legal but persecuted. Muggleborns weren't allowed positions of power and weren't granted Apparition licences. Ron would always hand the baby to her if he suspected somebody was about to take issue with her blood status and no confrontation would happen. Hermione would be given a wide berth but that would be it.

A half blood baby had more rights than its Muggle born mother. If Hermione cradled the child she could travel at Ron's side with nothing more than disapproving frowns.


"Bless you."

Hermione elbowed Ron in the ribs and he gave her a 'I'm holding the bloody baby, woman' look. Kingsley chuckled and took Rose from Ron's arms.

"Hello young Weasley girl. Don't you have big brown eyes?"

"See the hair on it? She's a clone of her mother," Ron beamed.

Hermione moved towards Ron and he shied away, expecting to be slapped, and she slid her arms around his waist and slipped into the space at his side.

"I've seen your baby pictures, she turns into you when she's laughing."

The proud parents watched as Kingsley tried to get Rose to laugh. It wasn't hard, even Ron laughed at the faces Kingsley was pulling. It was amazing how such a figure of authority, with the potential to be so physically threatening, could let himself go to such a degree he appeared to turn into a large teddy bear.

"Are you a metamorphmagus? Can you turn into your daddy?"

"She's got his appetite."

"Nothing wrong with a girl who can eat." Ron shrugged.

"Nakhichevan is where you're going next," Kingsley said as he looked down at Rose's face. "Is her hair getting lighter?"

"Yes, she's going to be auburn I think." Hermione slipped away from Ron's side to take the baby back, looking at Kingsley with curiosity.

"Where's Nakhichevan?" Ron said, bluntly.

"From a Muggle point of view," Kingsley said as he looked to Hermione, "it's a landlocked exclave of Azerbaijan."

"Azerbaijan?" Hermione repeated. "We have a baby."

Ron looked from one to the other and then cleared his throat.

"So what is it from a wizard's point of view?"

Hermione looked at him and for a moment he thought she was going to tell him she wouldn't go with him.

"Ron, it's next to Iran."

Ron knew about Iran. Hermione's parents talked about it when they were discussing Muggle news. Muggles were getting themselves into all sorts of trouble and he never really followed it all but he could tell that Muggle warzones and terrorist hotspots weren't the place for a baby or her mother.

"You should get a flat in London," Ron was saying before he understood what his next job really was.

"I'm going with you."

"But, Rose..."

"Rose is staying with us. This is safe or Kingsley wouldn't send us, right?"

"It's safe for wizards." Kingsley nodded. "Stay in our world with our people and you'll be fine. I promise you, Ron, I would never allow your wife and child to go there otherwise."

"So, okay, what is it to us then? Why am I needed if it's part of another country?"

"Muggle politics are too complicated and totally irrelevant right now. It is a stand alone country in wizarding terms. It's the first city Noah built after the flood."

"Noah?" Hermione, the atheist, said with scepticism.

"He was a wizard in the olden days," Ron mumbled, as if she had simply repeated the name because it was a person she hadn't heard of.

"He's the same Noah as in the Bible?"

"The Old Testement," Kingsley nodded.

"So...the Old Testement is all...true?"

"Hogwarts, a History doesn't literally have the full history of Hogwarts does it?" Ron said with a smile.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Yes, me and Kingsley are descended from the exact same two white people from Eden," Ron said as he rolled his eyes.

"Noah is real though?"

"Noah is...complicated," Kingsley began, "it's like how Christianity took the pagan festivals and celebrated their religious festivals at the same time. Things can overlap."

"So Noah was a Pagan?" Hermione tried to understand.

Ron and Kingsley laughed.

"Well tell me!"

"Too much to know and nobody knows everything, you and Percy included," Ron said before looking back to the Minister for Magic. "Nakhichevan, Noah city, whatever it is, why am I going there?"

"Semi desert, some mountains, some verdant areas around the mountains and a river forming a border with Iran, Nakhichevan City is the capital, where you're staying."

"Why are we needed?"

"You, you're needed," Hermione pointed out.

"Why is British representation needed?" Ron said with a huff. Hermione smiled into the top of Rose's head. She loved it when Ron spoke above, what he believed to be, his station.

"Ilandag, it's a mountain visible from Nakhichevan City."


"Not the issue, but yes. Ilandag translates to 'Snake Mountain'."

Snake, that one word said it all.

"But you said this wasn't dangerous for wizards," Hermione blurted.

"It's not. It's just a reason we have to have a person there. No Death Eaters, no attacks, no plots. There's also no point in being negligent and not bothering to send a representative."

"How will they be about mixed blood marriages?"

"Hermione should be fine. Muggles aren't even approached to join wizarding society in Nakhichevan. Squibs aren't shunned, it's just one of those things to them."

"So I'll be okay because?"

"They'll see you as one of them. You have a wand and you can use it. Muggleborns there never know what they are and never learn to master their emerging powers. To the locals you are a witch, no Muggle about it."

"I'm not sure if I like that attitude."

"But you're gonna lump it," Ron said, firmly.

When Ron put his foot down about her idealised views on things she knew he was probably right. The Muggles weren't people who would want a Western woman marching around asking about people who behaved strangely. She'd end up getting Muggleborns lynched.

"So, you have a folder here, some settling in things in this bag," Kingsley held the folder and the bag to Ron, who took them and then put one into the other, "and travelling papers so they won't turn you away at their Apparition point. You have a secure Floo connection with permission to make International calls."


"Only officials can Floo call over the border. They have strong restrictions."

"Right," Ron said as he dropped the travelling papers into the bag as well.

"Your contact's name is Jalil Araz, you'll need to stay out of the sun, and don't drink from the springs."


"Just don't." Kingsley patted him on the arm.

"You send me to all these hot countries and then go on about me getting sunstroke," Ron said as he rummaged in the bag, finding the inevitable bottle of Muggle sunblock.

"Get better at the sun protection charms then!" Kingsley said before offering his hand to Ron. They shook on the new assignment and Kingsley gave Hermione a loose hug around Rose's tiny body.

"No Harry?" Ron mentioned, as casually as he could.

"This was supposed to be his job," Kingsley said with a wince, "his kids have Troll Mumps and Harry's never had it. His can't lift his own head at the moment."

"I haven't had that," Ron said with a sigh.

"And neither has your daughter. He said to tell you to Floo call in two weeks. You can still catch it through the flames while he's contagious so play it safe."

"Tell him I asked after him. He'll get the hump if he thinks I didn't miss him."

"The hump and the mumps, he'll never be able to get out of bed again!"

They laughed and the family made their way to the International Portkey. Ron took Rose, he had learned to land on his feet, and they prepared to leave for their new home.

"This is the last one, Ron, I promise. I've told them you can't be bounced around any more. Next stop after this...home!"

Hermione gave a smile and a wave and Kingsley disappeared with a pop.

Nakhichevan looked like a sepia photograph. Rocks and desert and rocks and sand and rocks and dirt and some rocks sprinkled on top. Then some dust, a lot of dust.

Neither of them said anything about Greece, but the first look they gave each other as soon as they saw their new home said it all.

They weren't going to love it here.


"Ron! We have been invited to Hasmik and Simeon's sheep farm, is a fly zone so we can fly brooms there!"

They were very fond of Jalil, their contact, interpreter, guide and new friend.

"Wow," Ron said after spitting his mouth full of toothpaste into the basin, "the flying, not the sheep farm. I'm not excited about sheep."

"They are breeding sheep, sex sheep, not food sheep, yes?"

Ron glanced at Hermione. Her look made him bite back his comment about having sex with sheep.

"Either way, I grew up in the country so farm animals aren't anything to write home about." Ron began to change into his flying gear while Hermione picked up his boots from where she had put them by the door and carried them over to him. "Hermione, have you seen my flying boo- Oh, ta!"

"Saw them, tripped on them, put them away."

"I'd have done it, I must have been distracted by Rose."

"Don't blame Rose!"

Ron grinned, leaned over and kissed her on the lips.

"You wanna come? We can get Gaik to babysit."

"Gaik won't take money so I won't ask him for anything. We're in a stalemate situation."

"And you don't want to fly."

"And I'm not interested in flying, just as you're not interested in sheep."

"About the sheep," Jalil said as he put an arm around Ron and walked with him towards the front door, apparently conversations about pride had nothing to do with women, "I understand you not interested but, it livelihood of my friends. Farmers so poor in this country."

"Of course, I'll nod along and pretend to be interested in sheep, no problem."

"They will not talk of sheep, I know this, just quiet that you don't care."

"I'd never want to upset your friends, Jal, I swear."

"I know this too," Jalil stepped back, happy for Hermione to overhear them again, "and you are both my friends too. We will fly towards the mountains and to the clear air!"

"Clear air," Ron groaned, "so that's where you're keeping it all."

"Er," Hermione stood in the doorway, looking as if her back had gone as stiff as an ironing board, "not too close though, or high, because I know about air pockets and things over mountains and it might be clear air but it's thin too an-"

"Not flying over them, I swear on Rose's life," Ron said with a reassuring smile.

"You'll burn," she said, still tightly wound.

"Oh shit, yeah, gimme a sec Jal."

Hermione stepped into the bedroom, behind him, and closed the door. She waited for him to turn, curled her fingers around the back of his neck, and pulled him down towards her. She kissed him firmly and turned him around to push him against the door.

"Mmph, well... didn't realise sheep farming turned you on so much!"

She kissed him again and let her hands slide down to squeeze his backside.

"Come home, smelling good and I'll get a babysitter. Fall even a foot off that thing and I'll 'put it away' for you."

"I never find my things if you put them away."


He bowed his head to kiss her goodbye, she slapped a splodge of sunblock onto his nose, and then he and Jalil left with their brooms over their shoulders.

The two men flew in the crisp, cool air and Ron wished that Hermione could enjoy flying. She was always afraid of accidents and unforeseen circumstances and that if something goes wrong on the ground you at least have a chance but if the same thing were to go wrong in the air it was going to be a whole lot worse.

He tried to point out that things don't have to go wrong at all and that he was a pretty reliable flyer.

"I've never fallen yet have I?"

That, to Hermione, was tempting fate. She could stand Quidditch, lots of people to help and Healers to fix and team mates to rely on, but just flying on his own for relaxation scared her. Nobody would know if he had an accident, nobody would know where he fell and nobody could help him. He was a family man now and he needed to make allowances for her fears. He never flew alone, he never flew in bad weather, and he never went too high.

A fly zone was too good to turn down, though.

For all its faults and total segregation between Muggle and wizarding world, the magical world had created some very impressive magic involving some airspace around the mountains. The same way the Knight bus could physically move about Muggle streets and not be seen, a broom could fly in the fly zone and nobody who wasn't supposed to would ever see.

The job was another empty title, he was a presence and nothing more, but Jalil was so delighted to have somebody to work with that his enthusiasm made the days more tolerable. He would tell them about the past attempts to enter the country without permission just to explore Snake Mountain for whatever power the dark witches and wizards thought it might have hidden away. He'd laugh that the most unstoppable wizard couldn't get in because he couldn't negotiate the red tape. Hermione found this a glorious way of fighting evil and even Ron relished telling the story to Percy during a Floo call home on their mother's birthday.

Jalil had introduced them to his friends, most of whom were in awe of them and thought they must be wealthy beyond their dreams. This was a concept Ron couldn't get his head around and he'd ended up having a 'you think you had it bad, listen to this' competition with Jalil in a pub one night.

Ron had never starved and Jalil had never had a single near death experience so they agreed to call it a tie.

Jalil was almost like a child who had been stuck inside all weekend, finally allowed out to play and even given a friend to play with. Everything was higher, faster, bigger, more with him. He kept telling Ron that he wouldn't tell Hermione if he did a bit of ambitious flying but Ron stayed at a reasonable height and maintained a decent speed while Jalil teased him and flew corkscrews through the air above him.

He took being somebody's dad very seriously, and being Hermione's husband even more so.

"Look Ron, you see the sheep?"

"I see the sheep, Jal, yeah. Great sheep."

They landed and Jalil dismounted at a run to greet his friend Simeon with a two armed back slapping hug.

He spoke in what Ron guessed was Russian to him and Simeon waved behind him towards the house, looking as if now wasn't the best time for a visit.

"Ah, Ron," he smiled at Ron, turned to remind Simeon that they had met, and then looked back to Ron with a pained face, "Hasmik is upset. There is death in the family, her brother."

"Oh right, sorry, tell him I'm sorry."

"He will know, but obviously maybe now should not be time to be here."

"No problem, of course not. But Jal, make sure to tell him I said I was sorry."

"He knows, he knows."

"No but say it for me, yeah?"

Jalil said something to Simeon and he looked stoic.

"Do you want to stay with them, Jal? I can find my way back on my own."

"No!" Jalil snapped and Ron was a little startled. "I must travel with you. You must not fly alone."

Ron was alarmed by Jalil's caution after their trip to the farm.

"You are government official. That you are here now...we must travel together, Ron. Serious rule for now, yes?"

"Yes, if you tell me why."

Jalil looked at Simeon and then back at Ron.

"You can do nothing but Simeon and Hasmik can have trouble because you can talk to powerful people."

"No more than they can. Nobody listens to me. I'm not here to be anything other than a..." Ron had to stop. He had no idea what his role even was.

Hasmik appeared at the door, dressed in black and looking at least ten years older. Ron saw her, looked away and then picked at a non existent splinter on his broom handle.

Simeon said something that sounded like an order for Hasmik to go back inside. When Ron glanced up he saw that she'd gone again. The two men had words and both nodded. Simeon stepped forward and shook Ron's hand.

"We want no trouble."

"I wouldn't..." Ron began to say.

"He know, his English is not good."

"You home to baby. Jalil take you to baby."

"Jal, seriously..."

"Hasmik brother is murdered but nobody supposed to know. Her mother will be arrested if you know. She break law by lifting Ministry spell."

"How do you mean?"

"Ministry arrest Hasmik brother, they sure he do wrong thing. They find no...they find nothing to say he bad man."


"This, none. Ministry ask questions, try to prove he bad man."

"Interrogation," Ron said, heart sinking.

"Maybe this, questions and bad things if he give wrong answer."

"Yeah," Ron nodded.

Now he knew why they couldn't let him leave on his own. The Nakhchivan Ministry would have done their research and known their new Foreign Ambassador Auror had been a trouble maker in Spain. Now they were going to know that he had been at the home of the sister of a suspect they appeared to have tried to force a confession out of.

"Is this why you didn't want to pass on any message from me?"

"I..." Jalil looked deflated. "You have talked about it now. Even sorry is talk."

"You're not in trouble now are you?"

"I do my job, no trouble."

"I'm gonna be watched aren't I?"

"This will happen. I will be with you, you do not worry."

"Simeon and Hasmik, are they going to be all right? I didn't bring them trouble did I?"

"No, Simeon mother-in-law, she bring trouble for herself."

"How is this? What did she do?"

"She looked at his body, lifted charm and saw...marks."

"They killed him rather than admit that they arrested the wrong man?"

"No more questions, we must go."

Jalil flew at Ron's speed and altitude all the way back to the city. This, Ron thought, said more than the answers he wasn't being given.

"You do smell good, well done," Hermione said as she smiled against her husband's mouth and then crushed him against the wall, kissing him deeply.

She worried anyway, he decided to say nothing.


The banging on the door was enough to make them both jump up but Ron was up and armed and locking Hermione in the bedroom before she'd even pinpointed the direction of the sound that had woken her.

He flung the door open and was already forming the words of the defensive charm when Hasmik threw her hands before her and cowered.

"I sorry, I come for help!"

Ron's heart was beating so hard his legs almost gave out and left him sliding down the wall.

"Get inside," he said as he pulled Hasmik into their home by the elbow.

"Ron!" Hermione was banging on the bedroom door, unable to break an Auror seal around it.

"Shit," he whispered to himself, unsealing the door and letting her out.

"What the hell was that?" Hermione demanded before noticing Hasmik and her wan face. "Oh, I'm sorry, has something happened?"

"Hermione, get Rose from the sitter would you?"

"Why? It's...It's barely six o'clock."

"Get Rose please."

Hermione looked at him for a moment and then left in just her dressing gown and slippers.

Hasmik started crying. Ron guided her through to the living room and sat her down.

"Do you want me to get Jalil?"

She shook her head.

"You...You help."

"Yeah," Ron felt his heart sink as he said it, "let me send my family away and I'll help you okay?"

She nodded.

"Is Simeon with you?"

Her head shook.

"Are you in trouble for talking to me yesterday?"

Again, a shake of the head.

"This is about your brother."

"My mother," Hasmik said, shakily. "Mother...arrest."

"She's been arrested?"

"She look at body."

Ron nodded. She was arrested for exposing the cover up and telling people. The Ministry must know that Ron had been told too.

"Did you try to find Jal?" Ron asked, suddenly.

"I come here."

Ron nodded again, sent a Patronus to Jalil, and hoped he was over-reacting.

"How did you get here?"

"I walk."

This relaxed him, slightly. There was something ironic about people who could create such magic as a fly zone and Floos that won't communicate or transport across borders, yet have nothing to monitor a magical person walking anywhere. Hasmik may as well have been under an invisibility cloak.

"Nobody saw you, stopped you, asked you where you were going?"

"I see no one."

Ron turned to get her a drink. She must have been walking all night.

"Jalil say you have baby girl."

Ron turned to look over his shoulder at her, glass filling from the tap.


"I no tell Simeon I come. No one. I no bring you trouble."

Ron smiled at her, grateful that she had thought of his family while trying to help hers. He handed her the glass of water and sat across from her on the table.

"Tell me your mother's name."

After the stealth of Hasmik's arrival there wasn't much else that happened afterwards that didn't draw attention to the household. Hermione returned with a screaming Rose, demanding to know what was going on, and then screaming at Ron's insistence that she pack and leave for the Burrow while the International Floos were still active. Jalil arrived and had frantic conversations with his friend's wife in Russian. Ron sent his Patronus out every few minutes, Pig out with papers, and Gaik the House Elf to assure Simeon that his wife was safe.

"Her mother send a photograph of the body with owl. She show you?"

Ron nodded.

"Let me see it," Hermione said, handing Rose to Hasmik and looming over Ron and Jalil.

"Sorry, can't."

Hermione punched her husband in the shoulder.

"I am sick of this patronising, 'send the little woman home for her own protection' bull!"

"You're a mother now, not my wife, not a brilliant witch, not Hermione Granger, you're Rose Weasley's mother and I didn't go looking for this but yet again it's found me and I can't walk away. You can, you are, and you'll bloody well get off my back about it!"

"You're a father."

"That's not as important."

She slapped him, hard.

The room fell silent. Hermione set her jaw stubbornly and challenged him to say another word about sending her away with nothing but a fierce look.

"A father's not as important as a mother. I didn't mean being a dad wasn't important."

"I'm sure you mean well by that but, pardon my language my love, fucking bullshit!"

Ron dragged a hand over his hair and heaved a deep sigh.

"I can't ignore this. She asked for help. Rose doesn't need a dad who walks away when people need help."

"Fair enough, Rose can go to Harry and Ginny while we stay and sort this out."


"Ron," Hermione began.

"No. No chance. No chance of her being an orphan."

"They won't kill us. This is too political. They'll throw us out of the country...again, but-"

"We can't fight these fights together any more!" Ron's raised voice wasn't the thing that startled Hermione speechless.

A Patronus message broke the tension. The silver stag spoke with Harry's voice.

"Kinglsey can't be seen to know about this, but keep him informed of everything, okay? I'm getting that photo you sent examined by our team. Try not to piss off the Ministry there. Of course we'll take Rose but don't overreact. This isn't like last time. Stay sane, yeah?"

The Patronus vanished before them and Ron looked to Hermione.

"I sent the photo to Harry, that's why you couldn't see it."

"It's okay."

"I'm sorry."

"That's okay too. I'm not leaving."

"Okay then."



Everybody turned to face a lost looking Hasmik.

"Take her home, Jal, we're going to try to talk to somebody about this."

Jalil nodded, took Hasmik's hand and helped her to her feet.

"Ron," Jalil said as Ron stepped towards the fireplace, "go nowhere without me."

"I'm just making a call to the Auror department, doing things properly as if we trust them and think this is an honest mistake."

"There are Aurors who are good and Aurors who are bad. Just talk to the Polkovnik."

"The Polkawot?"

"Polkovnik Auror, he is like Minister of Aurors."

"Chief Auror?"


"Just say it and they'll know," Hermione said as she took the baby back from Hasmik.

"He good man," Hasmik said to Hermione, looking at Ron, as she was led away, "pretty baby," then she turned to say something to Jalil in Russian.

"She want you to know she comes to Ron because she trusts him, knows he is good. She knows why you are angry, you have baby Rose and want husband for yourself."

"No, it's not like that," Hermione interrupted.

"If Ron does nothing, nothing will ever be done."

"I know."

Hermione hugged Rose to her and smiled at Hasmik. Jalil pointed at Ron as he knelt before the green flames, head lost deep within them, and repeated his instruction to Hermione.

"He must not leave here without me, he go nowhere alone."

"I promise," Hermione said with a nod.