CHAPTER ONE
Ron has been dreaming of things lately; Whispered voices calling him "Flameboy", Voldemort's red eyes, and blood covering his hands. What is going on?!
Voldie is alive, Dumbledore is alive… Takes place in sixth year, ignores sixth book cannon
Rated M, Dark!butnotevilRon, Adventure/general
The heat broke through the tunnel walls, soaking him in its flame. The shadows pulled back and Voldemort snarled in anger. "You won't get away this time, Boy!" A hand shot out and latched onto his legs. He hissed through his teeth at the whimpering man and slashed his hand across the face. The man screamed and released him. "Flameboy!" He looked up into silver and brown and the fire heightened in response to his emotions. He grabbed the rope that had been sent down and hooked his good leg around it. In a few seconds he was being lifted out of the fray and up to the daylight again.
Ron sat up, gasping as the vivid dream lingered in his mind's eye. He touched his leg gingerly, still feeling the pain from the vision. It had been so real. He turned and swung his feet over the side of his bed. Ron rubbed his face tiredly; it was the fifth time this week that he'd had that dream, but it played like a memory in his subconscious each time. A distant shout caught his attention and the youngest male Weasley shook himself from his stupor.
Pulling a clean pair of jeans on, he saw his trunk packed at the foot of his bed. Oh, that's right. He was returning to Hogwarts today. He grabbed a blue long sleeved shirt and tugged it over his head then paused. When had he gotten this? Ron frowned and felt for a label at the neck, there was none. Ron ran his fingers over the fabric, his mind whirling. Why couldn't he remember?
Suddenly Ginny was at the door, telling him that he needed to get his ass out of bed. She saw his confused look. "What's up?" she asked her brother.
"Gin, where did I get this shirt?"
She scrunched her eyebrows, "Um, I think mum got it when she went school shopping last week, why?"
Ron shrugged to hide his unease, "No reason."
Ginny raised an eyebrow at him, then let out a small shriek as a pair of hands grabbed her sides, tickling her mercilessly. "Bill! Stop!" She managed to escape his hold and ran down the stairs to the kitchen.
"Hey." Bill greeted, leaning against the frame of Ron's door.
"Hey." Ron repeated, blinking at the eldest Weasley child. Bill wasn't a child anymore, but there were those times when his face lost its age. Ron frowned mentally at his own thoughts. Too little sleep, he concluded.
"Are you okay?" Bill questioned.
Ron bent down to pick up his trunk. Straightening, he blew a strand of his red hair out of his face in slight annoyance. "Of course." He moved to leave his room, but Bill was there, blocking his way.
"Last night I walked passed your room and heard you crying in your sleep." Bill told him softly. "What's wrong?
Ron had frozen. He quickly relaxed his muscles. "Nothing's wrong, Bill. I'm fine."
Bill snorted, "Yeah, and I'm the son of Malfoy." He looked at his youngest brother sternly. "Tell me."
"I've been having the same dream for a week now. Everything's on fire and I'm fighting Voldemort in some sort of cavern. I look up when someone calls to me and all I see are two different colored eyes looking down on me. The person tosses me a rope and I get hoisted out." Ron let out reluctantly. "I wake up, and I can still feel the pain from my injured leg in the dream."
Bill raised a hand and patted Ron's head. "Nightmares from the Department of Mysteries incident." He murmured. Ron frowned and shook his head, he didn't think so. Bill sighed; that was all he was going to get. "Come on, I'm driving you and Gin to the Station today."
Ron followed Bill down the stairs, and was promptly smushed by one of his mother's hugs. "I'm sorry that we're not going to see you off, Ronald." She said stroking his hair and standing on her tippy toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Eat up!"
"Goodness, Ron, you've sprouted again." A deep baritone voice commented.
Ron nodded to Kingsley. "Hey, Kings." He reached by his mother for a piece of toast, ignoring her tuttings about his manners.
"Say hi to Harry for me, will you?" the black wizard asked.
Ron nodded. "Sure." He took a bite of toast, and nearly gagged; it tasted like charcoal against his tongue. Bill sent him a look as he grabbed the milk jug from the center of the table. Ron ignored it and poured himself a glass, before winding around both Gin and her truck to the door. He leaned his own truck on the side of Bills new car and munched on his cooling toast, washing the burnt taste down with the milk, trying to forget the flames in his mind.
Bill and Ginny soon came out, Ginny hauling her stuff and jabbering on to Bill about something. Ron didn't pay much attention to her as he settled in the back seat and her in the passenger. As they drove out of their drive, Ron leaned his forehead on the window, idly watching the scenery fly by. Bill obviously wasn't paying attention to the speed signs the muggles put up.
They arrived at the station with only ten minutes to spare. Ron didn't bother with a cart and simply tugged his trunk behind him, a few steps ahead of Ginny and Bill. He paid no mind to the crowds of muggles, swiftly dodging the bodies with ease. Then the barrier was passed just as easily, and Ron didn't bother waiting for the others.
The scarlet steam engine waited at the platform, the gold letters spelling out Hogwarts Express glinting in the late morning light. Ron let a soft sigh escape his mouth and quickly boarded a car at the middle of the train. Surprisingly he quickly found an empty compartment and stowed his truck above the seats. Slumping into one of them, Ron leaned back running a hand through his mane of red hair. He let his eyes drift shut.
"Flameboy? Hello, anyone home?" A kid with peach colored eyes leaned in the open door and raised an eyebrow at his state. "Rough night?" "You could say that." He said climbing out of the oversized beanbag the kids jokingly called the blackhole and straightened his shirt. "How are the Potters?" The Kid shrugged, "Dumbledore moved them to one of his houses in Godric's Hollow. A really bad idea if you ask me." He sighed. "I didn't." the kid got a look in his eye but didn't say anything. Good, the kid's learning.
Ron was suddenly awake again, hearing raised voices in the corridor outside his compartment. He stood and carefully slid the door open, recognizing Hermione's angry tone.
A dark skinned boy was hiding behind the bushy haired witch as she gave a verbal lashing to two fourth years, by the look of it. Ron leaned against the wall and calmly watched one of his best friends. Hermione sent the two boys away and turned her attention to the cowering other. She tutted and fussed over him then sent him on his way too. She turned around and caught sight of him. "Ron!" She quickly hugged him, and then pulled away. "We couldn't find you when we got here… though we did run into Ginny about an hour ago; she in our compartment with Harry."
Ron smiled at her, looking apologetic. "I got on late, and then fell asleep." He gestured behind him to the open door. "I'll change then join you, 'kay?"
Hermione nodded and Ron ducked into his compartment. He slipped on his robe and draped his gold and red tie around his neck and joined her in the walkway. Her brown eyes were surprised, "That was fast."
Ron shrugged, "I already had most of it on anyway.
Hermione nodded and turned down the corridor. Ron followed her up to the front of the car. "Look at who I found!" She said cheerfully, opening the door.
Ginny and Harry sprang away from each other blushing horribly, and Hermione rolled her eyes. He snorted, amused at the half terrified looks on their faces. "You're going to catch flies like that." He warned them, a grin lighting his blue eyes warmly. The two's jaws clicked shut and their cheeks got darker.
Harry pulled himself together first. "Where were you?"
"At the end of the car. I got to see Hermione scare two Gryffindor boys nearly shitless."
"Ronald!" The said witch shook her finger in his face, "Watch your language."
"But it's invisible, I can't watch it!" Ron joked, jutting out his chin and spreading his arms.
Hermione groaned. "Don't be a smartass."
"Of course not," Ron agreed, lowering his long arms. "That's your job, isn't it?"
Hermione smacked his head and sat down in a playful huff.
"Yes, for once I have to agree with Weasley." Drawled a cool and refined voice from behind Ron. The Gryffindors' smiles slid off their faces.
Harry stood, his hand in the pocket of his jeans, Hermione and Ginny right along with him. Ron didn't turn around, a cold feeling building behind his eyes.
"Malfoy." Harry said through gritted teeth.
"Potter." Draco Malfoy stood alone at the entry to their compartment, sneering at their scowls.
"Get out."
Malfoy spread his hands, "I'm not in your compartment, Granger." His sneer turned toward Ron. "Got nothing to say, Weasley?" Ron didn't answer nor did his face the Malfoy heir. The blonde frowned slightly, and then returned to his sneer. "Later lowlifes." And he waved them off like servants in his manor.
Ron turned slightly, the cold feeling now like ice in his head. "Ron, what are you doing?" Hermione was in front of him.
"I need to have a word with Malfoy for a bit. Don't worry, I won't cause trouble." He reassured her stepping from the compartment and stepping down the corridor. He retraced his footsteps from earlier, back to the compartment just in front of his original one. Calmly, he slid open the door, but did not enter.
Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him and the two girls across from him stared. "What do you want, Weasley?" he asked leaning back his wand held in lax fingers.
"Isn't it customary to invite one in when they come, not looking for a fight?"Ron let the ice creep into his voice and was inwardly pleased when Malfoy's high eyebrows shot up toward his hairline.
He stood and motioned for the girls to leave. The two did so without complaint and Malfoy motioned toward the now empty seat across from him. "Why don't you take a seat, Mr. Weasley?"
Ron sat, feeling the cold change, morph into a heat that danced dangerously close to his skin as he sat. "I'm assured to see that the son of Lucius Malfoy isn't a complete waste of oxygen." His voice was deep and soft, but it had a razor sharp edge to it, and that was not his own.
Malfoy sat back down. "Who are you?" he asked calmly.
Ron's mouth twitched, threatening to bare his teeth, but he refrained. He wouldn't want to scare the boy now would he? "Who do you think I am?"
Malfoy's eyes flicked to the door then back to Ron's. "A Deatheater…" He said carefully, watching the red head across for him.
"And how did you come to that conclusion, Mr. Malfoy?" Ron asked resting his chin on the knuckles of his right hand.
Malfoy pressed his lips together for a moment, and then he spoke. "In the Department of Mysteries, you were attacked by brains… my father said you had to be hospitalized for weeks because they had almost attached themselves to your brain." The blonde leaned forward. "My father said you'd been tainted because the brains held memories from the first war."
The redhead clapped his hands at the teen's explanation. "Very good, Mr. Weasley… but I'm afraid you are to be disappointed. I am no Deatheater; I plan on being on the winning side."
Malfoy froze. "The winning side?" He scowled, "You would actually follow Dumbledore's great vision of light?!" He was standing in his outrage.
Ron raised an eyebrow. "No."
The young man sat down abruptly as the red head's eyes bore into his, "What?"
"What Dumbledore does not understand is that light and dark magic is a figment of people's minds." He looked closely at the Malfoy heir. "When your father's Master was not so insane, he shared in the same belief as many wizards did; there is only power and those who choose to use it."
"You speak as if you knew him then."
"I did." Malfoy's silver eyes widened. "You father was correct when he said I had been tainted." Ron leaned forward. "I've been tainted by the flame." He stood, blue eyes holding onto silver. "Be sure to tell you father that I send my condolences in advance, because his master is going to die."
Malfoy was left sitting frozen in his seat. The year hadn't even begun and something had happened. The blonde felt a sick wrench in his gut and he paled. Pansy and Daphne had reentered the compartment and gave him worried looks. He knocked away Pansy's hand on his arm and breathed deeply, trying to forget the look in Weasley's, no… that wasn't Weasley, that creature's eyes.