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Dark Gods In The Blood	By : Hayseed Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 3951 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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A/N: Just when you
thought the plot couldn�t get any thicker ...

Thanks for reading!

Summary: A wandering
student comes home, a broken man pays his penance, and a gruesome murder is
both more and less than it seems. Some
paths to self-discovery have more twists and turns than others.

Rating: R, for intermittent
dark themes, violence, and language

Disclaimer: Nothing
you read here (save the plot and bits of the text itself) belongs to me. Harry Potter and his cronies are the
property of JK Rowling and Warner Bros. (and someone else, probably, but not
me). All chapter headings are properly
credited to their sources.

Dark Gods in the Blood

by: Hayseed (hayseed_42@hotmail.com)

Chapter Twenty-Four

His
was an impenetrable darkness. I looked
at him as you

peer down
at a man who is lying at the bottom of a precipice

where the
sun never shines.

-- Joseph Conrad,
Heart of Darkness

Ron�s eyes ached as he
poured over Harry�s case file for the umpteenth time. He knew he shouldn�t be reading such a thing here of all places,
but he couldn�t seem to leave it at work.
So he contented himself by putting a Binding Charm on the folder every
time he put it away so that neither Nicholas nor Fran�oise could get into
it. Alice -- still too young to be able
to read -- wouldn�t have been interested in a boring stack of papers anyway.

Nonetheless, there was
always the risk of either Harry�s wife or his son reading over Ron�s shoulder,
seeing things that they shouldn�t, knowing things about Harry that no one
should ever have to know. Ron was
actually glad that they hadn�t sent Harry on to the Muggle coroner for an
autopsy like they had the Desmond fellow -- he could not have borne those stark
photographs and clinical descriptions peeking out of the file if they�d had
Harry�s face in them.

And Kingsley was finally
listening to Hermione, especially now that she could begin most of her theories
with, �Severus Snape and I think ...�
He wondered if Hermione had any idea how much credibility being the only
person on the face of the planet it seemed that Snape would speandiandidly with
brought her. Probably not.

But then again ...

She did seem to talk to
Snape an awful lot these days. It had
progressed from every week to every few days to, now, she was over there at
least every other day -- sometimes two days in a row -- armed with files and
photos and ideas. The Snape that Ron
remembered would have had a hard time dealing with Hermione in the throes of
research, as she was now, and he often marveled at the fact that Hermione
seemed to emerge from her meetings with Snape relatively unscathed.

�Uncle Ron!� Nicholas
shouted from somewhere within the depths of the house, jerking Ron out of his
semi-reverie. �Uncle Ron!�

Irritably, he replaced
the Binding Charm and stuffed the file into his briefcase. �What?� he yelled from his doorway.

�Supper�s ready!� came
Fran�oise�s answering cry.

When he reached the
kitchen, she already had Alice bundled up in her high chair, waving a piece of bread
happily in the air. �Supper supper
supper,� Alice crowed.

�As single-minded as a
Niffler,� Ron said, cheerfully tousling Alice�s curls. �So ... what are we having?�

�You and I are having
chicken primavera,� Fran�oise told him, holding out a wine glass full of a
honey-colored white. �But I figured
that the kids would balk at that many vegetables on one plate, so they�re
having plain old baked chicken.�

�Sounds great.� He sipped at the wine. �Hey, this is really good!�

�It�s a chardonnay I picked
up a few weeks ago on a whim,� she replied.
�Just thought I should ... expand my horizons or something.�

�Well, I like it,� Rsaidsaid with an easy smile. �It�s ...
fruity. Full, like.�

Laughing, she returned to
the stove and began fiddling around with plates. �When did you become a
wine critic?�

He stuck his nose in the
air. �Ah, yes ... this chardonnay has a
full flavor, with a fruity finish.
Clearly a heady, bold wine, wirevireviously unexplored nuances,� he
drawled, doing his best Draco Malfoy impression and causing Fran�oise to laugh
all the harder.

�Mum ... can I taste?�
Nicholas asked, tugging at his mother�s trouser leg.

She sobered quickly. �You�re too young.�

�Aw ...� he
protested. �Just a little taste!�

�If we were in your
native country, Fran�oise,� Ron teased.

Making a face, she
carried two plates over to the table, sitting one at Nicholas� place and the
other in front of Alice. �Oh, all
right. But just a sip.�

Eagerly, Nicholas took Ron�s
glass out of his outstretched hand and brought it to his lips. Taking the tiniest of tastes, the boy
coughed and began to splutter.

Both Ron and Fran�oise
laughed.

�Yuck!� Nicholas
exclaimed. �It makes my throat stick
together!�

�Good,� Fran�oise said
firmly. �Now sit down -- both of
you. We�ll be ready to eat in just a
second.�

Ron and Nicholas sat
obediently, the empty seat that Ron still abse con considered Harry�s between them.
Soon enough, Fran�oise plunked a steaming plate down in front of Ron and
seated herself. �All right?� Nicholas
asked, hand hovering over his fork.

In response, she just
rolled her eyes and watched her son plunge headlong into his meal.

�I like to see a young
man with a healthy appetite,� Ron said, twirling a fork through his pasta.

�There�s a difference
between healthy and grotesque,� Fran�oise replied sharply. �Nicholas, I did not put that napkin beside
your plate for decoration!�

Silently, he wiped his
mouth and placed the napkin neatly in his lap.

�So ... how was school,
Nicholas?� Ron asked as he swallowed a bite of chicken.

The boy shrugged and
scraped up a bit of rice onto his fork.
�All right. We finished reading James
and the Giant Peach today.�

�What?�

�It�s a book, Uncle Ron,� Nicholas sighed, clearly annoyed with
Ron�s ignorance. �A Muggle book. I liked it a lot, actually. And in math, Mrs. Daniels started talking
about multiplication. She�s going to
make us memorize the whole times tables!�

He was slightly more
comfortable with Muggle mathematics.
�Well ... that�s a good idea, Nicholas,� Ron said apologetically. �I know it�s a fair amount of work now, but
later, it�ll be useful.�

�That�s what she said,� he pouted.

�I always liked math,�
Fran�oise said reflectively. �It was
nice to be either absolutely right or absolutely wrong. Not many shades of gray in math class.�

�I bet there are,
though,� Ron replied through a mouthful of tomato -- she frowned at him and he
swallowed quickly. �Sorry -- kids,
don�t talk with your mouth full, okay?�

Nicholas grinned up at
him cheekily. A sad that we can be happy through.�

�Funny,� Ron said,
affecting cheer with some effort, �I�ve never seen it on a cross-stitch
sampler, though. All the best bits of wisdom come off samplers. Or out of one of Hermione�s damned
schoolbooks.�

Fran�oise grinned,
forgiving the single expletive for a change.
�What�s a sampler?� Nicholas asked curiously, not smiling.

�A picture, like. Done with a needle and thread on special
cloth, usually. I�ll show you some
time,� he promised. �Mum used to do
them when she was pregnant with us kids.�

�You know what, Uncle
Ron?� Nicholas asked, looking up at him.

His smile was more
genuine this time. �Obviously I don�t.�

�I forgot to tell
Hermione the last time I saw her -- will you tell her for me?�

�Tell her what?� he
questioned.

Nicholas� eyes flittered
away from his for a moment, skittering around the table, not focusing on
anything in particular. �I dreamed
about her,� he said shyly. �Only this
time, I knew who she was.�

�Oh, you did, huh?� Ron
inquired mock-sternly. �Just what did
this dream entail, young man? Do I have
to defend my best friend�s honor?�

Nicholas giggled,
relaxing a bit. �Not like that, Uncle
Ron,� he replied. �But I did dream about her.
Her and the dragon.�

�Dragon?� Fran�oise
echoed with interest.

�A big dragon,� he explained with wide eyes. �With sharp teeth and fire coming out of its
mouth. A scary dragon. In
my dream, Hermione was running. Running
down a long hallway, and at the end of it was a door. The dragon was behind the door and I knew the dragon was behind
the door, but she didn�t know. So when
she opened the door, the dragon knew she was coming but she didn�t even have
her wand.�

Ron didn�t like
thspanspan style="mso-spacerun: yes"> �And then ...?�

�The dragon roared at
her. And tried to hurt her with its
claws. But Hermione just stood there
and ... and shouted at it.�

�What did she say?�
Fran�oise asked, by now genuinely curious.

Nicholas shrugged. �I couldn�t make it out. And then I woke up. But I thought I should tell Hermione about
it.�

�That�s ...t�s t�s true,
Nicholas,� Ron said after a long pause.
�Thank you for telling me -- I�ll be sure to let her know.�

His eyes were wide and
guileless. �She won�t be mad, will
she?� he asked worriedly.

�Mad?� Ron echoed,
incredulous. �Why on Earth would she
...?�

�Well,� Nicholas hedged,
shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

�I miss him,� she
sobbed. �I miss him so much it hurts -- it�s like something has been torn out of my
chest, Ron.�

�I know,� he
muttered. And he did. He understood that feeling ... that incompleteness.

Tear-stained eyes gazed
up at him trustingly. �You do,� she exclaimed.
It was not a question.

�I do,� he repeated,
looking down at her, mesmerized by her eyes.

xt2>

And suddenly her lips
were on his and his hands were sliding over her shoulders, down her back.

Ron�s mind was on
fire. He was kissing Harry�s wife.

He was kissing Fran�oise.

And it was beautiful.

Her lips were sweet
beneath his -- he could taste the salt of her tears and the wine from supper and
the tang of Fran�oise. He drank her in
and her arms tightened around his neck.

It wasn�t until her mouth
opened and her tongue touched his that Ron recollected himself.

And then he was off the
couch, arms wrapped around his middle, nearly shivering with the realization.

Fran�oise.

Harry�s wife.

Her gaze was a mixture of
desire and hurt. �Ron ...� she
whispered, sultry and sweet and holding her arms out invitingly, and Ron knew
then that he wanted her. Everything else be damned, he wanted her.

Confusion blossomed in
her eyes. �But ...�

He did not wait to hear
what she had to say, knowing he would be lost if he did. �Gotta go,� he mumbled, more to himself than
to her.

Not wanting to bother
with the Floo, Ron simply Disapparated, staggering only slightly as the sitting
room in his own flat shimmered into view.

�Hermione?� he shouted as
soon as he was able.

Silent and dark, nothing
moved in the flat, save his voice echoing through the air. Ron sighed, wan to to slap his forehead in
frustration. Of course she wasn�t here
-- she would be over at the Aurory, muttering over maps and photos with
Kingsley Shacklebolt.

But he didn�t want to go
to work. Didn�t want to have to deal
with anyone.

Still treading
unsteadily, he moved into the bedroom, stripping off his robes and collapsing
onto the bed wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts.

The sheets smelled like
Hermione. Soap and detergent and good,
clean things. He buried his head in her
pillow, breathing in some spicy sort of fragrance that he knew had to belong to
her. And he wished he could talk to her,
lay his head in her lap and pour everything out.

Curling into a ball on
the bed, Ron began to cry.

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Dark Gods In The Blood