Harry Potter and the Lost Heir (A fan fiction)

Chapter 6: Shattered Truths

The morning sun peeked through the curtains of Ron and Hermione's bedroom, casting a warm glow on their tangled sheets. Hermione stirred, blinking away the remnants of sleep, only to find Ron's side of the bed empty and cold. A frown creased her brow as she recalled the tension from the previous night.

Downstairs, Ron nursed a steaming mug of tea, his mind a whirlpool of conflicting thoughts. The life of an Auror had once filled him with purpose, but lately, the constant peril and brushes with darkness had taken their toll. He longed for a reprieve, a chance to savor the simple joys he and Hermione had fought so hard for.

The creak of the stairs heralded Hermione's arrival, her expression guarded. "I thought you'd be at the Ministry by now," she remarked, her tone clipped.

Ron sighed, setting down his mug. "Hermione, about last night—"

"If this is about trying to dissuade me from going to work again, save your breath," she cut him off, her eyes flashing.

"That's not what I meant at all!" Ron exclaimed, frustration seeping into his voice. "I just thought, with everything going on, we could use a day to ourselves. Just the two of us, like old times."

Hermione's shoulders slumped, and she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Ron, you know how important my work is to me. I can't just drop everything and take a day off whenever you feel like it."

"But that's not—" Ron's protest died on his lips as Hermione whirled around, grabbing her cloak from the hook by the door.

"I don't have time for this right now," she said, her voice strained. "We'll talk later."

With a swish of her cloak, she was gone, leaving Ron to stew in the heavy silence of the empty kitchen.

At the Ministry of Magic, the halls buzzed with activity as witches and wizards scurried about their daily tasks. Hermione navigated the organized chaos with practiced ease, her mind already focused on the mounting caseload awaiting her.

"Hermione!"

She turned to find Harry striding towards her, a concerned frown etched onto his features. "Have you seen Ron this morning? He wasn't at his desk when I arrived."

Hermione's expression tightened, and she averted her gaze. "We had... a disagreement. He wanted to take the day off."

Harry's brow furrowed. "That doesn't sound like Ron. Is everything alright between you two?"

The words tumbled out before Hermione could stop them, a torrent of pent-up frustration and hurt. "He's being completely unreasonable, Harry! Acting like he can dictate when and where I work, as if my career doesn't matter as much as his!"

Harry's eyes widened, and he raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Woah, woah, slow down. Ron would never try to control you like that. There must be some misunderstanding."

Hermione deflated, suddenly feeling drained. "You're right, you're right. I'm just... on edge, I suppose. With this case and the murders and that mysterious girl..." She trailed off, shaking her head.

Harry studied her for a moment, concern etched into the lines of his face. "Why don't we take a break? Get some tea and let you vent for a bit?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of Hermione's mouth. "You always did have a way of listening to my rants."

"What are friends for?" Harry replied with a lopsided grin, falling into step beside her as they made their way to the Ministry's cafeteria.

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