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Previously on PGTW: Ron robbed a liquor store, Scorp found out his friends fancy his parents, and Harry thinks the muggle NYPD made a mistake.
“Please Hermione, you have to help me,” Harry pleaded.
Hermione glared at her best friend and raised a dubious eyebrow, “Really, why?”
“Because it’s Ron!” Throwing his hands up like it was the obvious answer.
Hermione scoffed, “For your information Harry, invoking Ronald Weasley does nothing for me these days. I’m no longer the shy, people-pleaser I was when we first met. I have a family, a wonderful husband and three kids with one on the way,” she placed her hands on her now swollen bump protectively. “I have moved on from petty, jealous Ron Weasley, I thought you had too.”
Harry looked at her disbelievingly, “It’s kinda hard moving on from Ron when I married into his family.”
“Oh please, if you want to you could. Ginny never mentions her brother, neither do the twins and Arthur and Molly are just fine. Why can’t you?”
“Because your husband won’t let me!” He all but yelled.
“Draco? What does he have to do with anything, he hates Ron.”
“Exactly! He thinks that we shouldn’t interfere because Ron’s now a muggle but his son isn’t. He’s sent letters to Arthur he’s going to find out, I’m trying to prevent that!”
Hermione’s features soften for a moment, “Oh Harry your hero complex is showing,” she giggles.
“This isn’t funny, Hermione, if Wendell finds out the truth he could be in deep shite.”
“How on Earth would an 11-year-old find out? And suppose he did, do you think the truth is any less harmful? To find out that his father is an Obliviated wizard not because he tried to ‘warn the public’ and was disowned by his Head of House but that his father is an Obliviated wizard because he broke the law, not once but thrice over. His father who deserted in the middle of war only to whine about non-existent threats and lack of recognition for his actions after it. His father who rightfully should have been Kissed by Dementors long before he even came to be because of that desertion. Do you think that truth is any less painful?” Hermione was inches from Harry’s face.
Harry sighed and for a while didn’t say anything. Finally when he spoke his voice was soft nearly inaudible, “I know but there’s something telling me that the muggles have it wrong and we are the only ones to prove he’s innocent.”
“But he’s not innocent! Suppose we help clear up the identity mishap, he still robbed a liquor store, he’ll still be a felon. Just as he is in the Wizarding world. This helps no one, Harry. Not Ron, not his son, not you.”
Harry sighed again, he wished that Hermione saw things the way he did. “He’s my friend, Hermione. He may not be perfect but he took me in when no one else did.”
“He didn’t take you in. Arthur did. You need to stop thinking as though the War is still raging and you are its only hope or that you carry the burden of everything and everyone.”
“But—“ Harry was interrupted by an elf popping in.
“Pardon the interruption Mistress, but young mistresses Lyra and Carina are still waiting for their stories.”
“Thank you Nippy, I’ll be up shortly.”
The elf bowed and popped away.
“I have to go the twins want their stories or else they won’t settle,” headed for the staircase, “Go home Harry, and forget about Ron, I’ll talk to Draco and see if he can remove you from doing his yearly review. Clearly being that involved has made you unable to let go. Good night Harry.” Hermione started up the grand staircase of Folkestone Castle to her daughters, leaving Harry alone in the Sun Room.
Nippy popped in a few seconds later, “Would Mister Potter require anything of Nippy?”
Harry shook his head, “No, Nippy, I’m just going to head home.”
“Farewell, Mister Potter,” Nippy said as Harry pulled out his wand and Apparated home.
Once he arrived Harry was met by Ginny.
“Take it she wasn’t interested,” Ginny said in greeting as she gave her husband a quick peck on the lips.
Harry nodded.
“Harry, why are you so adamant about Ron all of a sudden?” Ginny asked as they made their way toward the kitchen.
“Because for all his faults, Ron isn’t a murderer, Gin.”
“Oh you sweet man,” Ginny kissed him properly. “I know he isn’t, but like Draco said you can’t intervene.”
“I still have to try Ginny, nine months in Azkaban nearly killed him, if he’s sent away as Julian Pearce and not Ron Weasley his son is the one who suffers. And unlike me he doesn’t have family other than Ron.”
Ginny sighed, “Wait here.” She got up and left the kitchen only to return moments later. “Here.” Ginny gave her husband a vial of clear liquid.
“What is it?” Harry asked examining the vial.
“An extra-long dose of polyjuice potion.”
“Why do you have it?” Eyeing his wife suspiciously.
Ginny blushed, “I was going to use it to spy on the Tornadoes next week,” she admitted.
“Ginny!”
“What? The Quidditch semi-finals are a week after, we need all the help we can get!”
“But that’s cheating,” Harry hissed.
“So is trying to spring Ron from jail.”
“I’m not going to spring him, at best I’m clearing his name.”
“And at worst?” Ginny pressed.
“I’m springing Ron from jail,” Harry admitted.
Ginny nodded, “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
“A bit too late for that, I’m starting to think.”
“So can you do it?” Hermione asked Draco later that night in bed.
“He’s Head of the IUM, if he wants to monitor Weasley it’s his prerogative. The only thing that can override a Head is an All Lords vote and I’m not sure if I can manoeuvre the votes. The Wizengamot is pretty much through with all things Ron Weasley. Abbott told me after the ponce was sent to New York he was happy to have been apart of my motion. Apparently, Weasley was pretty mean to Hannah in school and her father wanted the ginger oaf to pay. That was more than a decade ago. But now, as the muggles say, out of sight out of mind as far as the Lords are concerned.”
“What if I told you I’d make it worth your while,” Hermione said sensually as her hand wandered under the covers.
Draco gasped as he felt his wife’s cold hand on his nether region.
“You want him removed that badly?” Draco choked out, he was quickly losing his breath as Hermione started pumping.
Hermione leaned up and kissed him passionately.
“I’ll see what I can I do,” Draco rasped as Hermione descended below the covers. “Holy—” Draco gripped the sheets.
Draco didn’t run into Harry until well after lunch on Monday, which was good since that meant he had time to gather up the Lords, thankfully the override can be triggered with a simple majority and only a majority needed to show for a roll call vote. So Draco only needed 8 of 15 of the potential 28. The maths worked in his favour, and after Hermione’s incentive on Saturday night he had all the motivation in the world to get it. When he was able to call a roll call vote during the afternoon session he was surprised as anyone when prior to the vote Lord Nott of all people proposed a joint resolution to disbar Harry Potter from all matters relating to his in-laws including Ron. And Draco was surprised as ever when Lord Parkinson seconded. He thought the Potter hate fest the old Slytherin Heads had with the Boy-Who-Lived was gone, he should have known better. When the joint measure of removing Harry Potter from his yearly monitoring of Ron Weasley and disbarment from all issues related to his in-laws passed 13-2, Draco let out a sigh of relief. At least he won’t have to worry about Potter droning on about Weaselbee anymore.
Draco met Harry in the lifts after the afternoon session let out.
“So you’ll be receiving a notice regarding your monitoring duties regarding all things Weasley sometime in the next 48 hours, Potter,” Draco said after the two greeted each other.
“Oh, all right.” Harry was disconcerted.
“Why do you sound confused?”
“No reason, I suppose I’ll read about it later.” Harry got off once the doors opened.
Draco was confused because Potter’s office was on the 4th floor one below his, he wondered why the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Annoy-Him got off at the 3rd floor. The Human Resources floor. He shrugged it off however as he checked his watch. It showed Scorpius and Hermione at Hogwarts, Lyra and Carina in Hampstead and his parents at Malfoy Manor. At least his family were where they were supposed to be.
Harry took hold of the portkey, it was scheduled to arrive in Massachusetts in a few minutes. He was puzzled as to why he couldn’t portkey to Wizarding New York and take a subway to Queens but given what he was about to do he didn’t ask questions.
It took a few minutes for Harry to get his wits about him, international portkeys still made him nauseous. When he finally felt better he realised that he was just outside the gates of Ilvermorny. He checked his watch, it read 3 PM, he had until 5 before the return key would activate he supposed if he was going to clear Ron’s name he should at least meet his son while he was here. Harry quickly transfigured his glasses into a different shape—he didn’t want to take any chances—then he took out Ginny’s polyjuice and dropped in the hairs of the DA assigned to Ron’s case and then downed the concoction. It tasted like normal polyjuice except for a rather disgusting dirt aftertaste.
“Blech,” Harry tried brushing non-existent dirt from his tongue.
As he passed through the gates of Ilvermorny he thought back to Hogwarts, unlike its British counterpart the American school featured a long walkway bounded on either side with tall pines. Harry preferred Hogwarts open grounds to Ilvermorny’s imposing one. As he neared the entrance to the castle, he heard a familiar name.
“Hey Weasley, shouldn’t you be getting to your shrink?” One of the students shouted at a redhead boy and a dirty blond boy next to him, Harry swore the former was Ron at 11.
“Fuck off, Manson!” Harry heard Wendell shout back.
Now or never, Harry thought.
“Mr Weasley, I’d like a word,” Harry in the DA’s body called with a gruff tone.
The boys both stopped and bug-eyed at the stranger approaching them.
“See ya Wendell, wouldn’t want to be ya, bud,” the blond said quickly and ran off.
“C-can I help you, s-sir?”
“Let’s sit Mr Weasley, I have a few questions.”
Wendell nodded and together he and Harry headed over to a nearby park bench on the grounds.
“So,” Harry began, “How do you like school?”
“I hate it, people here think I’m a no-good No-Maj-born and we’re in Massachusetts.”
“How is that a problem, Mr Weasley?”
“All the other No-Maj-borns are Red Sox fans, I’m from New York and a diehard Yankees fan.”
“I see,” Harry stressed, he had no idea what the Red Sox or Yankees were.
“So they give you a hard time because of that?”
“Most of them, the rest think I’m stupid.”
“Are you?”
Wendell was taken back by that, he’d never been asked that by an adult, “What did you say?”
“I asked if you thought you were stupid, Mr Weasley.”
“Of course not,” Wendell roared.
“Calm down Mr Weasley, you’ll attract unwanted attention.”
“Who are you, anyway?”
“I’m Kenneth Downs, MACUSA’s Head of Psychiatry,” Harry lied.
“Am I in trouble?”
“No, Mr Weasley, if you answer my questions without attitude.”
“I’ll try,” Wendell mumbled.
“Are there any parts about school that you do like?”
“The food’s pretty good and it’s all-you-can-eat so I’m able to eat as much as I want.”
“Do you not get enough to eat at home?”
“Not really, my dad’s a cab driver and he’s a No-Maj, so I eat only what I’m given and it’s not much.”
“I heard cab drivers in New York make pretty good tips,” Harry tried.
“Are you from New York?”
“No, Florida actually.”
“That explains your tan,” Wendell scoffs under his breath but Harry heard.
“Most cabbies make out okay, but people don’t seem to like my dad so he only gets the minimum split. Nothing extra.”
Harry mentally rolled his eyes, he’d thought Ron had grown up after having a son but apparently that childish attitude of his is permanent and it seems genetic, “Do you live with anybody else other than your dad?”
“No.”
“Where’s your mother?”
“My mom left us after she had me. Dad told me she does porn out in California now.”
“Oh, I see.” Harry quickly asked another question, “What House are you in, Mr Weasley?”
“Thunderbird.”
“Thunderbird?”
“Yeah, when I was sorted, the Thunderbird flapped its wings. I asked afterwards why I was sorted there and one of the Professors told me that Thunderbird is for the soul and they favour adventurers.”
Harry nodded, it was akin to Gryffindors valuing bravery.
“Just a few more questions Mr Weasley.”
Wendell nodded.
“How are you doing in class?”
Wendell ducked his head, “Okay I guess, I suck at Charms though. On our first day, this girl was trying to help me and I called her a stuck-up bitch after that and later her older brother beat me up.”
“That wasn’t a nice thing to say, Mr Weasley, she was only trying to help.”
Wendell scoffs, “I didn’t ask her to, besides she stopped trying to talk to me after that day. She and the rest of the stuck up Horned Serpents hate me. Damn snakes.”
“I know what that hatred feels like,” Harry commiserated, “So Mr Weasley since you’re in Thunderbird and they favour adventurers, what is the one adventure you want to go on?”
“I’d like to go to England.”
“England? Why?”
“I heard there were other Weasleys in England, I’d like to know if we’re related and if we are why did they disown my dad, is it because he didn’t have magic or is it because he tried to warn people of the dangers of a new Dark Lord and the Head of House didn’t like that and disowned him. He doesn’t have magic so how was he supposed to know that there isn’t a threat? Is that enough for Arthur Weasley to disown my dad?”
Harry grimaced slightly at the mention of Arthur, “What do you know about Arthur Weasley?”
“I know that he’s pureblood, and I’ve read that all pureblood families care about is being pure and not having any disgraces. I’m sure when he found out that my dad didn’t have magic he wasn’t too happy and did everything in his power to make my dad’s life hell. And then he found and practically adopted some kid named Harry Potter who used Morsmordre his Fourth Year.”
“Do you know what Morsmordre is?”
“Not really but I know it’s pretty bad though.”
“And how does that affect the way you see Arthur?”
“He’s a pureblood, he hated my dad enough to disown him, and he adopts some kid who did something bad and protected him regardless. In my mind, he’s a bad man. Why didn’t he just love my dad the way he loved that Potter kid? Those pureblood elite think they’re so great, well, my dad is a No-Maj and he had me and I have magic so I’d really like to shove that up Arthur Weasley’s bigoted pureblood ass.”
“I see,” Harry looked at his watch, “Well, thank you for your time Mr Weasley, I’m sure my boss is dying to hear from me about you so I should go. Good luck the rest of the term Mr Weasley.” Harry stood pulled out his wand and Apparated to New York.
Once he got there, it took him a few minutes to come to grips with his conversation with Ron’s son. Once he had, he headed toward the police station.