Chapter 11
As the emerald flames of the Floo Network faded, Harry and Hermione stepped into his office at the Ministry of Magic. The room was dimly lit, papers strewn across Harry's desk—evidence of the chaos that had consumed their lives over the past few days. Harry sank into his chair, running a hand through his unruly hair.
"We can't keep this from the Weasley family any longer," he said, his voice heavy with fatigue. "People in the Ministry will be already talking. The rumors will spread faster than we can contain them."
Hermione nodded, her expression somber. "I agree. We need to control the narrative before it spirals out of control. We have to provide a cover story for... for Ron." Her voice caught on his name, and she took a steadying breath. "We'll tell everyone that the man we've detained is using a powerful glamour charm to impersonate Ron. It's plausible enough, and it explains why he looks exactly like him."
"Even the Head of Magical Law Enforcement can't know the truth," Harry added, his eyes meeting hers. "But we'll need to inform the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. If this leads to a trial, we'll need his support."
Hermione allowed a small, relieved smile. "Fortunately, he's a close friend. We worked together closely when I was drafting the Equal Rights for Magical Creatures legislation. He'll understand the need for discretion."
Harry leaned back, considering. "What about Rose and Hugo? What are you going to tell them?"
Hermione hesitated, her gaze dropping to her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "If we're going to tell the entire Weasley family, they deserve to know the truth as well. I can't keep this from them."
Harry reached across the desk, placing a comforting hand over hers. "They'll be okay. They're strong, just like their parents."
She gave a weak nod. "I hope so."
He stood up, stretching. "I need to go home and get some rest. It's been... a long few days."
Hermione rose as well, exhaustion weighing heavily on her shoulders. "Me too. Please send an owl to everyone to arrange a family meeting at the Burrow tomorrow evening."
"Sounds good," Harry agreed. "We'll face this together."
As they parted ways, Hermione couldn't shake the unease settling in her stomach. The thought of revealing this impossible situation to her family was daunting, but she knew it had to be done.
When Hermione arrived home, the house was unusually quiet. She stepped into the living room to find Rose and Hugo waiting for her. Rose sat curled up on the sofa, her red, bushy hair a vivid reminder of Ron's, while Hugo stood nearby, his gaze fixed on the floor, his resemblance to his father striking.
Seeing them made Hermione's heart clench. The grief she'd been pushing aside surged forward, threatening to overwhelm her. She realized how consumed she'd been with unraveling the mystery of the younger Ron, neglecting her own children in the process.
"Where have you been?" Rose asked, her tone sharper than Hermione had expected.
Hermione hesitated. "I was with Uncle Harry. We had to take care of something important."
"You've been gone all day," Rose replied, a hint of accusation in her voice. "You always have something more important than us."
"Rose, that's not fair," Hermione began, but her daughter cut her off.
"It's always Dad who was here for us," Rose said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "He made dinner, helped us with our homework, spent time with us. You're never around!"
Hermione felt a sting of guilt and sorrow. "I know I've been busy, but I love you both very much. I'm doing the best I can."
Rose stood up abruptly. "Well, it's not good enough!" She turned and fled upstairs, leaving Hermione standing there, stunned.
Hugo glanced at his mother, his expression unreadable. "Goodnight, Mum," he said quietly before following his sister.
Hermione stood alone in the silent house, tears welling in her eyes. The weight of her grief and the burden of the secret she carried felt almost too heavy to bear. She didn't have the strength to follow them. Instead, she retreated to her bedroom, collapsing onto the bed as exhaustion overtook her.
The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains, waking Hermione later than usual. It was nearly noon. She rose slowly, the events of the previous day pressing heavily on her mind.
In the kitchen, she prepared a simple lunch, the motions mechanical. From the window, she could see one of the Aurors standing vigil on the patio. They never entered the house unless summoned, but their presence was a constant reminder of the dangers that lurked.
After eating, Hermione penned a quick owl to Harry, requesting that he gather the family for a meeting at the Burrow that evening. She knew time was of the essence.
Her next task was more daunting. She climbed the stairs to Rose's room, pausing outside the closed door before knocking gently.
"Rose? May I come in?"
Silence answered her. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open. Rose was curled up on her bed, facing the wall, her shoulders shaking slightly.
Hermione sat on the edge of the bed, her hand hovering over her daughter's shoulder before settling gently. "I wanted to talk to you."
Rose didn't respond, her body stiff beneath Hermione's touch.
"I understand how you're feeling," Hermione began softly. "You're right. I haven't been here as much as I should have. Your father... he was always so good at being present. But I need you to know that I love you and Hugo more than anything."
Rose's voice was muffled. "Then why are you always gone?"
Hermione's heart ached. "My work is demanding, but that's no excuse. I promise to do better. But right now, I need you to trust me. There's something important we need to discuss as a family tonight at the Burrow."
Rose turned slightly, her eyes red from crying. "What is it?"
"I'll explain everything tonight," Hermione said gently. "But please know that I'm here for you. We're all hurting, and we need each other."
Rose studied her mother's face for a moment before giving a small nod. "Okay."
Hermione offered a tentative smile. "Thank you." She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Rose's forehead. "I love you."
As she left the room, she felt a mixture of relief and lingering sadness. Next, she made her way to Hugo's room. He was seated on the floor, a game of wizard chess laid out before him, the pieces moving with mechanical precision.
"Hugo?" she said softly.
He looked up briefly. "Yes, Mum?"
"I wanted to let you know that we're having a family meeting at the Burrow tonight. There's something important I need to tell everyone."
He nodded, his gaze returning to the chessboard. "Okay."
Hermione hesitated. "Are you alright?"
He moved a knight, capturing a pawn. "I'm fine."
She sighed softly. "You know you can talk to me about anything."
"I know," he replied, not meeting her eyes.
Feeling a pang of guilt, Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'll see you downstairs later."
"Alright."
Back in the living room, Hermione sank into a chair near the fireplace. The quiet of the house pressed in around her. She gazed into the empty hearth, her mind swirling with thoughts of how to address the family that evening. The weight of responsibility felt heavier than ever.
She considered the reactions she might face—the disbelief, the anger, the confusion. How could she explain something she barely understood herself? But she knew they deserved the truth, no matter how difficult it was.