|hg_reads (hg_reads) wrote in snark_n_bark,|
@ 2008-02-14 20:23:00
|Entry tags:||complete, hermione, ron|
From Russia (or some other undisclosed classified location) with love
Characters: Ron, Hermione
Another victim. At least this one was alive.
Hermione put aside her copy of Jack Fraser's interview notes with Zach Smith's wife and wondered, not for the first time, how someone who hadn't even known about the Wizarding World until she was twenty-four had fought off Bellatrix Lestrange. She'd been tracking rumors, and Bella, for so long that Turner had deliberately sent her out of the country for a few weeks before she burned herself out the way she had tracking the Turescu gang.
It was a good thing. She was on the verge of cracking a forgery ring based out of a quaint little antique shop on the Via della Scala in Florence before they flooded the European Union with fake alchemical manuscripts, and she'd bought so many books about the Medici and the Italian Renaissance that even the tesseract compartment in her suitcase was about to explode. She'd brushed up on her Italian, seen great art and architecture, done good work, almost forgotten about Bellatrix...
And was about to miss her first Valentine's Day with Ron since they'd gotten back together.
"Bugger." Hermione flopped onto her back and stared up into the canopy of the four poster bed in her flat. The Squad had set her up in style, as befitted a wealthy, not especially intelligent tourist, and meant a huge, beautiful apartment in an old palazzo, a terrific wardrobe, plenty of euros...
And no Ron.
She closed her eyes and imagined what it might be like to have Ron here, right now, cuddling or making love or simply chatting. Leila would be with Molly, perhaps, or asleep in the fold-out bed in the next room. They'd have a bottle of wine, the candles would be lit, soft music on the wireless -
It was too much. She sat up, grabbed a quill and parchment, and started to scribble. A few minutes later she folded and sealed the letter, murmured a portkey-with-reply-privileges, and watched as it disappeared with a faint pop. Maybe she couldn't be with Ron on Valentine's Day, but her words would find him no matter where he was.