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Author: Bart Story: I Will Be Waiting Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: Completed Reviews: 12 Words: 44,681
Harry Potter quite obviously belongs to JK Rowling and her publishers. I should also point out that the structure of this fic is inspired by, "The Five People You Meet In Heaven" by Mitch Album. Which also doesn't belong to me. ~*~ Saturday 2nd September 2102 Deputy Headmistress Camilla Bones sat behind the desk she still thought of as belonging to Ron and threw the parchment back on it for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning, "Oh, for Merlin's sake, this isn't getting me anywhere!" Shuffling the many sheets in to some sort of order, she clasped her hands together, rested them on the desk, and called out, "Jasper!" Almost immediately a house-elf appeared with a slight pop in front of the desk. While nearly all house-elves these days had taken clothes, their choices were still eccentric to say the least, and Jasper was no different. He was dressed today in a knitted forget-me-not blue suit and an apricot tie made out of what looked like old socks, "Yes, Miss? May Jasper be of service, Miss?" "Would you alert the staff please, Jasper? I require them to attend a meeting in this office in an hour from now." "Yes, Miss, of course Miss, straight away Miss, anything else, Miss?" squeaked the house-elf, bowing each time he spoke. The Deputy Headmistress stifled a groan at this display of servility. Despite almost one hundred years of freedom, some habits died hard and the house-elves constant deference to their human masters always brought Camilla Bones to the edge of her nerves. She took a moment to inhale slowly, through her nose, in an effort to stay calm; the house-elves were jumpy and upset enough as it was, what with Professor Weasley's sudden death, without her getting snappy with them. Just the same, she fixed her eyes on the quivering tip of Jasper's ear and was proud of the measured tone she achieved. "Yes, Jasper, there is one more thing. Would you find the Head Boy and Girl and inform that they and the prefects are to supervise the students whilst the professors and I are meeting?" "Straight away, Miss." With this, the house-elf disappeared with a pop, and Camilla was just about to turn her attention back to the piles of paperwork obscuring the desk, when Jasper reappeared. The Deputy Headmistress was so taken aback that she actually flinched and the sheets of paper in her hand slid to the floor. The house-elf looked around wildly; Camilla could tell he was looking for something with which he could punish himself. "I is sorry, Miss! I is clearing it at once, Miss! I is not meaning-" Waving her hand to stop the house-elf before he could start apologising, she gave him a weary smile. "No harm done, Jasper, and you do remember how the Headmaster felt about speaking correctly? Now, let's start again." She leaned back in Ron's chair her chair, for now. "What is it, Jasper?" She was pleased to see the elf pull himself up straighter. "Sorry Miss, Jasper should have asked before. Would Miss be requiring refreshments for her meeting, Miss?" The Deputy head gave a dry chuckle. Doubtless Ron would approve; she recalled him saying more than once that he always thought better on a full stomach. "Thank you, Jasper. That would be lovely, perhaps hot tea and some iced buns?" "I is organising it straight away, Miss." The house-elf then disappeared for a final time, and Camilla Bones turned to the desk to prepare for when her staff arrived. There was so much to do, she really didn't know where to start. To anyone who didn't know him, Professor Weasley appeared more than a little haphazard, but as he always said, "You don't live with Hermione for so many years and not learn to be organised." Unfortunately for Camilla, his organisational skills were rather unique. She smiled as she remembered the number of times she berated him for the seemingly chaotic mess that was his office, only for him to go straight to whatever it was she required. Wiping away a tear that threatened to escape her eye, she set to, to try and make headway through the piles of parchment that littered the desk. ~*~ "Thank you, Jasper. If you could just place the tray there, then perhaps you could chase up Professor Hare. I do know he was spending some time in the forest this morning. Perhaps he's been delayed." Camilla was fussing, and she knew it but the Care of Magical Creatures teacher was always last to arrive for any meeting or function on purpose. She swore the man had no sense of urgency about him; it irritated her but had always amused the Headmaster, for some reason. "Hmm..." The acid agreement directed her attention away from the heaped tray and across the circular office to the Herbology mistress. "Are you alright there, Bella? A cup of tea perhaps?" Professor Atropa's reply was cut short, as the office door burst open to reveal a stout, serious looking wizard, who - after running a hand through his hair - grabbed a cup of tea and plonked himself down in the nearest chair without a word. The Herbology professor fixed him her most jaundiced expression as he sipped his tea quickly. "Nice of you to turn up, Quentin! What was so important that you felt able to keep us all waiting?" "Now, Bella, I suggest that you get Gabrielle to re-charm your watch; it's obviously running slow, or you would realise that I'm perfectly well on time. Nobody said I had to be early," replied Professor Hare. Camilla felt it time to step in, before things became personal. "Quentin! Bella!" warned the Deputy Headmistress, "now is not the time." Hoping that Bella would not ask when that time would be, she went round the desk and took her place. "Of course, Camilla. Sorry, so why have you brought us together?" replied Professor Hare. He helped himself to one of the huge buns and picked the cherry off, laying it on the side of his saucer before taking a big bite. Camilla was sure nobody missed Bella's snort of disapproval. She reminded herself why they were all here. "We need to set a plan of action in place for the next few weeks. Also, the Board of Governors sent me a letter this morning about matters pertaining to the Headmaster's death." The brief silence was very intense. "They don't mess about, do they? He only passed away yesterday," grumbled Julius Fletcher, the school caretaker, who was seated on the Headmaster's, no her, bureau. She would have to have a quiet word with him later, about showing some propriety when in official meetings. The Headmaster had shown the man far too much leeway over the years, however there was far more important business to deal with just at the moment. "Yes, well, it seems that despite all evidence to the contrary, the Headmaster wasn't entirely disorganised and was in contact with the board on a regular basis over the past year. Including, what to do when he retired at the end of this year. The Board has just brought those plans forward." Even before she'd finished speaking, Camilla felt the atmosphere become more charged. Some of the staff was leaning forward expectantly, hoping -or waiting- to hear the worst. The question came from the obvious person. "And those plans are?" asked Professor Atropa, with eyes as sharp as her Venomous Tentacula. "Those plans, Bella, as I'm sure you are probably aware, mean I will be taking over Head of the School officially at the end of the week. At that time, I will make the decision as to who will be my deputy-" Professor Bones then paused to look at each of her colleagues, "and not before." Camilla took a moment to assess her colleagues reaction to this information; most took the news with a nod of approval, nobody could miss the appraising glance between Bella and Quentin, however. The rest of the meeting involved making plans for the rest of the week, which the Ministry had announced would be an official week of mourning, culminating in a memorial service to be held at The Cleansweep Stadium, home of the Chudley Cannons. This would be followed by an exhibition match between the Cannons and a League VII comprising the best players from the remaining teams. Oswald Skeffington, the school's flying teacher, mentioned that from what he had heard, the league was having a hard time stopping the players from coming to blows about who should be selected to play; being as they were all eager to be involved in the game that Professor Weasley had followed for so long and so enthusiastically. The staff had the problem of keeping a school full of children occupied during this period, or - as Bella more correctly interpreted with this simple statement – 'preventing Ron's little 'buggers' from devising their own forms of entertainment and destroying half the school in the process'. Lessons would not be able to start until the following week. It was decided - thankfully with unanimity- that the school would hold its own service on the Thursday, allowing any students who wished to join their parents on the Friday to do so. It was also deemed appropriate for the school to hold its own memorial match at some point over the weekend before classes started. It would be left to the team captains to arrange and decide the format. She felt the responsibility would be good for them; she only hoped the discussions would be civilised. Perhaps she ought to have the Head Boy and Girl sit in on the meeting to prevent any unfortunate incidents. The Gryffindor team would no doubt want to field their own team against the best players from the other three, given that the recently deceased Headmaster was a famous Gryffindor. ~~~*~~~ The Second Person Ron Meets in Heaven You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself. "I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along." Eleanor Roosevelt After Percy left the house, Ron remained sitting at the kitchen table, so lost in thought that he didn't notice The Burrow slowly start to fade away around him. He had a lot on his mind; he had spent most of his life hating his brother and now after death everything he thought he knew had been thrown into disarray. His brother, whilst not perfect, obviously wasn't the demon he imagined. Percy had spent some time, after Ron had released him from his embrace, talking more about his life and what he had done with it, carefully avoiding any sensitive issues surrounding their family; it certainly wasn't the life Ron had imagined. It shocked him that Percy's life had been so hard, and yet he had been strong enough to get through it on his own. Ron was sure he couldn't have, but then he would not have made the choices Percy did. Ron reviewed his reactions to the brother he knew then and the man he had just been speaking to. Percy had admitted that it was his single-mindedness and his unwillingness to listen that had taken him away from his family. When he had finally come to his senses and realised the damage his chosen path had taken, and the damage it had done to his family, it was the same unwillingness that stopped him from returning, frightened that it would only do more damage. What was it Harry had once said? "Percy was never a risk taker - unlike me; he wanted security; to feel that he fitted in. But people who refuse to take risks live with a feeling of helplessness that's far more frightening than the fear of taking a risk and getting it wrong. If you've learned something from it that you didn't know before, then it's not a mistake really, is it?" Ron reflected that Harry had become almost philosophical in his old age. When the conversation had turned once again to Harry, Ron tried to steer it in another direction, not wanting to risk their newfound understanding with dangerous ground he knew they could not agree on. Percy felt he had to explain himself though, and while Ron could see Percy's point of view, that he really couldn't know Harry as well as Ron did, despite all the time Ron perceived they had spent in each other's company, he still felt it to be wrong. Percy also reminded him, that unlike Ron who reacted to emotions, his own tendency at the time was to listen to 'older and wiser' heads, in relationship to Harry's state of mind. A position he now accepted to be incorrect. His thoughts drifted into dreams as he fell asleep resting his head on the table. ~*~ When he awoke, he was lying on the ground, and The Burrow was gone, replaced by large fields and dry stone walls, leading down over the cliff tops and to the sea beyond. In places the walls had collapsed, it was a place that had been abandoned to the wildlife that cared to brave the difficult environment. No wizard - or foolhardy Muggle - had been here in many years. Standing up and trying to rub the stiffness from his body, he set off to try and work out where he was. The energy he had felt when he arrived at The Burrow had been replaced by an inner strength he hadn't felt for many years. As he scrambled over yet another wall, he thought he could see a building over the rise of the hill, a pang of anticipation made his breath catch in his throat as he sped up to try and find out where he was this time. The building, when he reached it, didn't look all that familiar and he couldn't imagine what relevance the place held, but he had a vague sense of foreboding as he tried the front door. Finding it to be stuck, he placed his shoulder against the weather-beaten wood, and pushed as hard as he could. As he did so the door gave way unexpectedly. He lost his footing and went down hard, landing face down in a pool of stagnant water. "Bloody hell!" he cursed. Brushing himself off as he stood up, he looked round the dim interior and squinted as his eyes adjusted to the suffused light. He seemed to be in some sort of abandoned farmhouse; various rusted spades and pick axes lay scattered around the room, and he had to step over some of them as he explored the space. A darker hole caught his attention so he walked into the next room. The windowless room was almost pitch black and Ron cursed as he stubbed his foot on something he couldn't see. It was because his attention was so focussed on the sharp pain in his foot and not his surroundings, that he didn't notice until it was too late to do anything to defend himself from the attacker creeping up behind him. In fact he didn't notice him until the wand was pointed at his back, pressing in between his shoulder blades. "CONSTANT VIGILANCE, BOY! Did I teach you nothing?" "Alastor?" Although he hadn't heard the voice in decades, Ron would have known it anywhere. "Well, at least you aren't completely unobservant! Turn around, boy, turn around," growled Moody. Mind whirling, Ron did as he was asked only to come face to face with the business end of a wand. A little apprehensive of the old Auror, Ron replied, "Hello, Alastor, it's been a while..." Moody's expression was as unreadable as ever, as he looked Ron up and down before lowering his wand. "Yes it has. I've waited a long time to see you, Mr Weasley. A long time." "Why did you wait, though? For me, of all people." "Later, Weasley, later, first follow me." And without waiting to see if Ron was following, Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody left the room. Moody's ungainly limp was the only reason Ron was able to keep up as the old Auror lead him further into the old house. As they travelled down through the levels, going always lower and lower, the sense of foreboding that Ron felt as he entered the building grew with each step forward until it was almost a physical presence weighing him down. Ron could tell they were now far below the house, but Moody was showing no signs of slowing down. The regular, even, stonework of the building's walls had given way to irregular, rough, stone tunnels leading further underground. It was then that Ron realised where he was. "M-Moody? W-why have you brought me here?" Ron was hardly able to speak as he grabbed the Auror's robes, to stop him going any further. His breathing had become laboured, and even though he was sweating profusely, Ron could have sworn that the temperature had just dropped by about ten degrees. Moody stopped walking and turned around, "It's not exactly my favourite place either, Weasley," he replied in a low growl, "but this conversation can wait. Now, keep moving." Ron wordlessly followed, until Moody rounded a corner and stopped in the last place Ron ever wanted to see again. "To answer your question, Weasley, I didn't bring you here, nor did you choose to come, but the fact remains that we're still here. I take it you know how this works by now?" As he was speaking he regarded Ron with his good eye, while his magical one darted around seeking out the shadows surrounded them. Ron nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet. "Good, saves me a lot of trouble. Now I suppose you're wondering why me? Yes?" Again, Ron just nodded in reply; if he wasn't already dead, he could feel quite ill. As it was, he was having enough trouble controlling his trembling muscles. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. "Straight to the point and no nonsense, that's what I like to see," Moody's magical eye spun round to stare straight at Ron, "Well, Mr Weasley, I'm here because you were responsible for my death." ~*~
a/n: *Ducks* *Runs* *Hides* a/n 2: Once again thanks to my pre-beta and beta's, Cara and Allie for their work on this chapter. I feel it only fair to point out that huge swathes of this chapter owe their existence to Cara's wonderful suggestions, or her actual creation of some parts. In fact her input was so great, that I could credit her with co-authorship! But seeing as she flatly refuses to help Harry out in her fic "Forever, For Now" (Available on a good LJ near you!) I don't think I will! :oP Pre-beta note: Heh heh! Or should that be Bwahaha…! Always a pleasure, bart!
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