The Woman in White

Ron had an appointment with his publisher regarding plans for an upcoming book. His last book was just released in paperback after doing well in hardcover. Ron had a few months to come up with another and he was waiting for inspiration to strike. His mood lately wasn’t helping.

He walked into the office and saw Pansy Parkinson at the receptionist desk. She knew why he was here, he had been to the office several times since he had moved back to England.

“Go on in, he’s waiting for you.” She said when she saw him.

He gave her a smile and a nod and walked into the office behind her desk. Mr. Franklin smiled and stood, welcoming Ron as he came in and took a seat. “Good to see you again Ron.”

“Likewise Justin.” He said leaning back in his chair.

“Any inspiration?” He asked.

“ ‘Summerland’ was just re-released in paperback, give me some time. I have several months before even submitting a new prospect.” Ron told him.

“I know, I know. It‘s just that the fan mail for you is growing with each publication. Any idea you have for a storyline is gold right now and they want more.”

“Justin the last thing I want is to become repetitive, and if I don’t space out time between each book then it they will just become copies of each other.” He said ending the topic. There was nothing Justin could say to that.

He handed Ron a rolled up parchment. “Those royalties were deposited to your accounts earlier today.” Ron acknowledged the figures and the sales numbers. Both hardcover and paperback editions were still selling well. His previous novels continued to move also. Whenever a new novel was released he saw a jump in previous material from readers who had just discovered his work and went out buying the rest of his work.

“The publishers gala is coming up.” Justin told him.

“Good for you.” Ron said as he read.

Justin knew Ron wasn’t the party type man, but he continued anyway. “It will be a good opportunity to reconnect with the literary world now that you are back in England.” He knew Ron wanted to take an active part in marketing himself. He had returned home and that always made an author more popular.

Ron had to admit he had point. He had been out of England for so long that he would have to put himself out into the publishing world and make the acquaintance of people in the business, and see how it had changed since he left. It was a good business decision, to know who was behind all the bestsellers. “Alright, when and where is it?”

“Here’s the invite.” He handed Ron an elegantly scripted card. “Will you be able to find a date in time. It’s later this week.”

“I won’t have a date.” He said, slipping the invite into his robes.

“Come on now……” He started.

“Don’t bother, if I need a date, I won’t go.” Ron said firmly.

“No, you don’t need a date. Send the RSVP card for one if you want.” Justin rose and walked him to the door. Apparently Ron’s issues with women went as far as rumor had indicated. It was a shame. Ron was a fine catch, but that girl he used to date had ruined it for every other young lady in England. “It is formal however, you have dress robes I assume.”

“I’ll get them in time.” Ron told him and took his leave, giving Pansy a nod on his way out.

He apparated to Diagon Alley and went to a men’s clothier. He had gotten rid of his dress robes because Sara had given them to him. He didn’t have a lot of experience with high class dressing and events and such. When he began making more money and going to events she was the one who made sure he looked good. The robes were a gift but he eventually figured out that she wanted him to look a certain way. She didn’t want to be embarrassed by his lack of social skills.

Draco Malfoy had given him a few tips on dressing when he began making money, and with men’s periodicals he now had his own unique sense of style. He stayed with blues and blacks, they worked best with his ginger hair and blue eyes.

He walked into the store and looked around. Casual clothes were in the front along with shoes. Men’s formal attire was often located in the back with fitting rooms. A young girl behind the counter looked up from the paper she was marking and smiled at him. “Can I help you sir?”

“I need dress robes.” Ron told her.

“Dress robes are in the back. Katie is back there, she’ll be able to help you with anything you need.” She smiled at him as she spoke.

‘Thank you.” Ron walked toward the back and was immediately drawn to a display dummy of very nice robes. He usually bought from displays since the entire ensemble was already put together, but ended up making small changes.

“Can I help you?” A girl, most likely just out of Hogwarts approached him.

“I like this look. But do you have a different cloak, something simpler.” He asked. She quickly took his measurements and fetched his sizes, then used her wand to make simple alterations when he tried them on. As she suggested items for him, she noticed he chose several expensive items.

Ron felt his frustration rise when she began flirting. He also didn’t miss that it began after his bill had risen substantially. He ignored several comments, and focused on putting together his robes.

She returned with his cloak, a simple cleaned lined design without the frivolity or tapestries or trims. He added it and took a look at the finished product. He looked good, and it was prefect for the gala.

“Very nice.” She said smiling behind him. “What’s the occasion?”

“I have an event to attend in a few days.” He said offhandedly.

“Your date is going to be very impressed.” She said giving him a wink through the mirror.

“I’m going alone.” He said, fiddling with the cuff that emerged from his sleeve.

“I’m sure an affluent man like you would have no problem finding a date for the night.” She had taken a step closer, tilting her head with a smile and Ron finally reached the end of his patience.

“An affluent man like me isn’t about to get wrapped up in a frivolous little girl who sees nothing but a man’s money sac and an opportunity to fuck her way to an easy life.” He spoke all in one breathe and by the time he was done the girls face had gone milky white.

“Perhaps I can help.” An older man who introduced himself as the shop owner had come up behind her and spoke quickly. “Lisa needs your help up front.”

Katie quickly left and Ron finished his shopping with new assistance, and managed to make it out of the shop without sending any girls away in tears.

When he got him, he hung his dress robes and placed a pressing spell on them to make sure they stayed neat and wrinkle free for the event. He sat down with a glass of wine and thought about the afternoon. His temper at obvious displays of avarice was the worst. Nosiness and curiosity, he could handle with some form of control, but when women flirted with him after seeing how much money he made, or in today’s case, how much he was willing to spend, it meant that he was appealing because of his money.

It made him sick, and reminded him of Sara all over again. He let out his anger and bitterness many times with Draco and Harry. Harry, because he was his best mate, and Draco because he knew all about galleon hunters. Draco always had a sympathetic ear for him, because he was hunted constantly, not only for his money but his influential name.

He finished his wine. It was sad how some women acted. Because of Sara’s viciousness he was on edge and watching everyone. He let his head roll back. He hated being this way, and feeling like this, but he couldn’t help it. He felt used in the worst way. She had told him she loved him, and presented herself as an understanding partner, when the whole time she had used him and laughed at him behind his back. He had been nothing to her.

He finished his drink and took his broom outside, circling in the air. Flying always helped calm him down when he was agitated or angry. He worked up a good sweat then showered and went to bed.


Ron had sent the RSVP indicating that he was coming alone, and he soon received an owl in return. It gave him the exact location of the soiree, including a detailed map of the room at the grand hotel it was being held at. He was also given a black mask. It left his hair free, but covered half his face, leaning only his lips, lower cheeks, nostrils and chin free. It held in place with a charm and it was so comfortable that Ron hardly felt it when it was on. As nice as it was, he decided to go without it at the event. He was going to make the rounds and announce his return to England. Hiding would defeat the purpose.

As he prepared for the event, showering and shaving carefully, he took great care with his appearance. Being raised in nothing by hand me downs and second hand clothes in his youth, he valued the look new clothes gave him. It was something he never took for granted and he never half-assed anything when it came to his looks.

Wearing his trousers and shoes, but only a t-shirt he entered his front room and poured a drink. He had just put the bottle back when he heard a tapping at his window. There was an owl waiting to be let in. Ron, puzzled, took the note and offered a treat he had in his own owl’s perch.

The parchment was a glimmering ivory with feminine script in solid black.

‘I cannot wait to see you this evening. I know you will stand far above any peacock tonight.’

Ron turned the parchment this way and that, but there was nothing else to it. No indication of who it came from. Ron was used to being chased by now, but usually woman gave him their name, wanting to be recognized and sought out. It was then, that he noticed the delivering owl had flown back out the window.

Who would send this this, then not bother to give a name? This woman obviously liked games and that rattled Ron. He was finished with games. He tossed the note on his desk and went back to continue dressing.


The gala was in full swing when Ron arrived, and he could see that the note was accurate about peacocks. Several people were wearing the masks sent out by the committee, many others had chosen to create their own elaborate masks. The pompous displays were an obvious game of one-up-man-ship. Men were vying for the attentions of woman and had thought that outlandish displays would get them noticed.

Ron wasn’t the only one who decided to go bare faced. He recognized several publishers and editors and was stopped by men and women alike anxious to welcome him to England. Nobody spoke of his almost marriage, and he was glad. The less he thought or spoke of Sara, the better.

He couldn’t help however taking a look at all the women in attendance, wondering who had sent him the note. None seemed to be paying overt attention to him. It baffled him that she would want to remain unknown. The women he usually dealt with put themselves in his path looking for attention. Why hide?

He was seated among several people who attended alone and a few couples. He was deep in conversation with a well known publisher who was friends with Justin and they talked as the dancing began. Ron had was too engrossed in the talk he was having, to care about dancing, but when an older woman he spoke to asked him for a dance he accepted with pleasure.

“It is good to see you back home Mr. Weasley.” She said to him. About his mothers age, she possessed the same welcoming smile as Molly Weasley, but this woman dressed with the knowledge of one who had grown up with money. Her appreciative face, made her endearing to him, unlike a lot of others who still held Ron’s origins against him.

“I have to say, Mrs. Willowton, it is very nice to be back.” He said.

“If I may be somewhat personal…..” Ron gave her a nod, “it is sad that you returned home under the circumstances you did.”

Ron smiled at her. She was one of the first he met when he began writing. She was one of the few women he respected. “It is, but better to have happened before I married her and got stuck in an ugly situation.”

“You shouldn’t let it dampen your spirits Ron. I hate to see you alone.” She told him.

“I will be fine.” He told her.

“I know you will, you survived worse then a greedy woman. I just don’t like the thought of her making you misogynistic.” She told him.

“I’m not. There are women I love and respect, you among them.” She smiled up at his charm. “Like I told Hermione, I am healing, just like any woman would. Men hurt too.”

“I know.” She said and flowed across the dance floor with him.

Ron spent the evening speaking with several people. Justin had been right about this being a good chance for meeting important people. He also met up with bookstore owners who were anxious to speak with his publisher about carrying his work. He met reviewers who had read his work and spoke at length regarding some themes in his writing.

Toward the end of the evening he returned to his table and spoke with the publisher friend of Justin’s. He was anxious to see what Ron’s next work would be about, but Ron had to admit that he was taking his time with his next piece.

When someone had asked the publisher to dance, Ron took the time to go to the gents. When he returned there was one couple at the table talking intimately while the others danced. Ron’s topped short when he saw a note next to his wine glass. It was the same ivory paper as the one he received earlier that day.

‘You are dressed as a true gentleman. Sophisticated and elegant all on your own. Truly the most handsome man here.’

“Excuse me, did you see who left this here?” He asked the couple, gesturing to the note.

“A lady in a white feather mask, left it there.” The man said as if he expected Ron to know already. He went back to his date as Ron nodded.

Slipping the note into his robes he scanned the room. He couldn’t find a white feather mask in sight. His eyes trained on any glimpse of white but he could find none.

The party was ending and half the guests had left. There was no sign of white feathers anywhere. Ron had no choice but to leave without any answers. He was now more curious then ever as to who had written to him.

He went home to find an owl waiting on his window. He opened the window, but instead of flying in, the owl dropped a scroll and flew off into the night.

Ron took the scroll and opened it up. He felt his rage rising at the words.

“Ron, I know it’s been some time, but I was hoping we might be able to meet for tea. I will be in England visiting a cousin of mine and it will be a great opportunity for us to talk. There has been too much between us to just go on like this. I hope to see you soon. Sara”

Ron crumbled the note and tossed it into the fire, watching it ignite and feed the flames. He grabbed his broom and took of into the night, circling around faster and faster for over an hour, before falling into an exhausted stupor.