Greetings, I'm Kay. And I'm a silent member of the HP fandom who has decided to be silent no more. I'm just going to say this now Ronmione is my OTP, Weasley is my king and any Ron haters can come at me if they dare, they will get chopped. That being said, I'm respectful of other fandoms and hope they will be respectful of me. I plan on flooding the net with Romione as this is just the first of many stories I have planned includign a Slytherin Ron Anthology and the almost required time travel fix it fic. That being said, I'll delay no more. Onward with the story. Please review. AU: As for the italics, that is the motto of the House of Prewett which translates into Victorious are the Valiant.

The Ancient and Most Noble House of Prewett

May 2003

Prologue

The Secret of The Dark Lord

All Seers were a little eccentric, that Dana Bennett, Headmistress of Ivermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, knew undoubtedly. But Sybil Trelawny was an entirely special case. The woman had spent the last two hours playing with a jar of mayonnaise.

This was the woman who had predicted the prophecies of the Dark Lord and the Chosen One? This bumbling mass of confusion held an Order of Merlin, second class? Well, oh my stars and garners, Dana thought with no little amusement.

Sybil Trelawny was in America as a special guest lecturer. The students of Ivermorny were clearly intrigued and clearly befuddled by the bumbling, dramatic and blustery teacher.

She approached the podium, numerous bracelets and rings jingling as she made very measured steps as if the floor was jinxed with a Sticking Charm. Her eyes blinked out of her massive glasses and sucked in several loud breaths. The young American and Canadian students looked skeptical but interested.

"I am Sybil Trelawny," she screeched into the mic. "I am here to help you discover your Inner Eye, but not just discover it, allow it to flourish, expand and soar into the future," her tone got louder and shriller as she spoke. Several students flinched. But if the Good Seer noticed, she did not let on. "It was not for naught that I was the one who spoke the Dual Prophecies of the Dark Lord and his defeater, the Chosen One. It was because of my years of dedication and practice that my Inner Eye saw what no one else could not. It was because—," Sybil Trelawny stopped shortly.

At first, everyone thought she was just pausing for dramatic effect which she had done several times already. However, after 90 seconds had gone by, everyone was staring wide-eyed at the Divination professor who was clearly somewhere…else.

Then in a high tone (unnatural even for her) she began to speak.

"Five seasons after the Dark Lord's Defeat, his buried secret will be revealed set out to finish what the Evil Master began. Darkness shall rise again from the roots of those who vanquished it, from that which was thought vanquished."

Professor Trelawny came out of her trance and opened her eyes to a sea of astonished faces. Headmistress Bennett's mouth hang open freely as did the rest of the room.

"So sorry, what was I saying?" she said after clearing her throat. "Yes, the Inner Eye. One must develop it, one must concentrate it."

No one in the audience heard a word Sybil Trelawny heard after that, but her ability as a Seer was never questioned in America again.

~Vicit es Validum~

Chapter One

It Wasn't Enough

Molly Weasley tucked her wand safely into her coat pocket and made sure none of her flowers had been damaged during her Apparation. The outskirts of her hometown of Treverbyn, Cornwall could never be completely foreign to her, but it had been a very long time since she'd spent any significant amount of time there.

Treverbyn had long been a haven to the Wizarding World with numerous prominent wizarding families living there. The Prewett family had lived there for generations after generations…until they didn't.

Tears filled her eyes as she stepped down the lane that led to Rubrum, the familial seat of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Prewett. The ancient large county estate had sat empty for years since the end of the First Wizarding War. Her parents had gone into hiding, leaving the house in their sons' care as a safehouse during those dark days.

The Wards that protected the House during the war only allowed Prewetts to enter the grounds and no one but the heir to the House of Prewett could open the house. That had been a special Ward that Gideon Prewett placed on the property shortly before his death.

Molly had always thought that with his and Fabian's deaths, the ward should've disappeared as she was now the heir. Her parents had tried to open it but without success. Instead, the house remained Imperturbable. They'd been unable to open it for twenty years. She had no intention of attempting to this day. The same was true of the Prewett vault at Gringotts. She had never wanted for anything as a child, but she was unaware of what the vault contained. After the war, her parents had been unable to access the vault. The key had been lost and could not be opened by magic because of the ward Gideon had placed over it. She knew not why and had never really had time to wonder. But now, she could set Bill to work on it.

This day was the 22nd anniversary of her brothers' death, and she was there, as she always was, to place flowers on their graves and to mourn her family. Her parents had outlived both of their sons and her mother had nearly outlived one of her grandchildren as she had died just before the Second Wizarding War had broke out.

In peacetime, sons bury mothers. In wartime, mothers bury sons. It was a dark bit of irony Molly knew all too well. She had watched her mother bury her sons, never imaging that in the not too distant future, she would have to bury one of her own.

These were the dark thoughts plaguing Molly Weasley as she approached the family cemetery that had held her ancestors for centuries. She, when her time came, of course would lie in the Weasley cemetery, between her husband and Fred. She could not hold back the tears that came then. Her son lying dead, her greatest fear realized.

Granted, she had five sons and a daughter to help remember him, but the anguish would never truly go away.

She would not be going to Fred's grave this day. That was reserved for his birthday and the anniversary of his death. It was a day where the Wizarding World celebrated and mourned.

Darkness had been vanquished but at a price. Fabian, Gideon, James, Lily, Sirius, Ted, Tonks, Fred. The losses were immeasurable, yet so was the victory.

The Dark Lord was gone and all was well.

All had been well for five years and Molly had just begun to find her peace. She was focusing on her role as mother and now grandmother. In five years, she had three grandchildren, Victoire, Fred, Molly (her namesake). All but one of her children were married and settled. And if she had anything to say about it, Charlie would be wed soon.

She hoped one day she'd be able to bring her children and grandchildren to her family home. She suddenly remembered that her son was a curse-breaker. She should have him go to work on that immediately. Why she'd never thought of that, she couldn't reconcile. But she placed the flowers on her brother's graves, ready to leave the past and return to the future.

As she always did, she turned to take one look back at her family estate. She was just about to turn away, when she could've sworn she saw a light on in the upstairs window, the one that had once held her father's study. .

In an instant, it was gone. Molly shook her head. She really did need to return to the present.

Sunday nights at the Burrow were always anything but calm. This was no exception. Ron Weasley looked around, surveying the scene of his extended family and he didn't know whether to laugh or scream.

Hermione and Percy were arguing about the Ministry, George and Bill were arguing about appropriate curses to sell in a joke shop, Harry and Ginny had been having a domestic about their work schedules and weren't speaking to one another, Molly was pestering Charlie about getting married, Angelina and Fleur were exchanging baby talk, and Teddy and Fred were chasing Victoire and Little Molly around the living room.

Ron and Arthur sat quietly in the corner, slowly sipping Firewhiskey and taking in the scene. It was chaotic, noisy and happy.

This is why we fought, Ron thought with a contented sigh. So we could have this.

After the war, Ron and his dad had gotten extremely close. Not that they weren't always, but Arthur knew Ron had always felt overshadowed and unappreciated. If only his youngest son had known how far that was from the truth. It was hard not to compare your children when you had seven of them.

There was Bill, the firstborn, Charlie, the rebel, Percy, the perfectionist, Fred and George, the troublemakers, Ginny, the girl and then there was Ron, the bravest and most accomplished, the most loyal, and in some ways the strongest. Despite all that, Ron was the most insecure.

Arthur knowing his children knew well, knew that none of the others, even if they had been best friends with the Chosen One would've gone on the run for months, faced danger after danger without even stopping to think about it. None of them but Ron. Despite the fact that all the Weasleys were Gryffindors through and through, Arthur knew with certainty that Ron, eager to prove himself, yet loyal to a fault would be the only to ever make the sacrifices he'd made.

Which was one of the first things Arthur had told his youngest son as soon as the dust had settled after the War.

"It's good to be home, innit?" Arthur asked as he swirled his Firewhiskey in his glass.

"It's wonderful," Ron said with a sigh. He and Harry had just gotten off from a rather nasty mission involving cursed galleons.

"Got some time off, have you?"

"Three weeks," Ron replied with a happy sigh. "'Mione and I heading up to Provence." Ron honestly couldn't wait. The Auor Office had been extremely busy, the shop had been just a few notches behind. Ron could use some rest and some alone time with his beloved.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Percy!" snapped Hermione, catching everyone's attention. "It's that kind of backwards thinking that got the whole Ministry divided."

"Hermione, if the centaurs are allowed roles in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, half the Aurors will resign," Percy replied importantly.

"I highly doubt they're going to give up their livelihoods to make a point."

"They will if the point is Centaurs should not be their coworkers."

"And why not?" Hermione demanded. "They proved themselves invaluable during the War. Saved so many lives, fought by our sides. And their sensible nature makes them prime candidates for the Department of Magical Law. All I want to know is if there is a way for the Department of Magical Transportation to get them in and out of London safely? If a Portkey could be set up that goes back to their territories? "

"You're mad, you are," Percy said finally. "No will ever agree to it. Ron, would you tell her please."

Fuck, Ron thought as Hermione's big brown eyes turned towards him, along with every other eye in the family. Even the toddlers seemed to be staring at him. He could see Harry suppressing a grin, obviously glad the heated topic hadn't been thrown his way. The specky git.

Ron thought for a split second. Both of them had a point. Percy was right about the Aurors not wanting to share the glory of Magical Law Enforcement with Centaurs. Hermione was right about their usefulness to an extent. He didn't know how they'd get on with interrogations and investigating, but they could have some benefits when it came to actual captures.

"Well," he began, but he stopped because the sound of an Apparation outside made them all turn to the door. Kingsley Shackelbolt was at the door.

Molly hurried to open it, she threw her arms around Kingsley who warmly returned the hug, but Ron could see from his eyes that this was not a social visit.

"Molly, Arthur, forgive me for intruding."

"Kingsley, you know you're always welcome here," Molly said.

"A firewhiskey, Kingsley?" Arthur asked.

"In a moment, perhaps," Kingsley said and his eyes fell on Harry, Ron and Hermione in turn.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione, a word please?" he asked motioning upstairs.

Hermione's eyebrows raised and she looked at her husband, who merely shrugged. "Of course, Kingsley," he said and the four of them darted off to Ron's room.

No longer a shrine to Chudley Cannons, it was now a shrine to Ron himself with Molly having every article, every chocolate frog card, everything she could find about Ron's heroics during the war and his accomplishments since hanging in the room.

First and foremost was the portrait of the day Ron, Harry and Hermione had received their Orders of Merlin, First Class. The picture Ron, Harry and Hermione all looked at their counterparts when they walked in the room.

Once the door was closed, Kinglsey Shielded it. Clearly, he didn't want anyone else hearing their conversation and knowing the Weasleys as he did, he figured they were trying to figure out a way to hear the conversation.

"What I am about to tell you," Kingsley began with a very serious tone. "is of the upmost importance and does not leave this room. Am I understood?"

All three of them straightened their shoulders. "Yes," they said almost in unison.

"There has been a murder, two murders to be precise. Dean Thomas and Alexa Scrimengeour are dead."

Hermione let out a gasp in shock. Alexa Scrimengeour, the widow of Rufus Scrimengeour was a highly influential witch, a member of the Wizengamot and worked with Hermione the Magical Creatures department. And as for Dean, Dean who had been their friend, their roommate, Dean who had fought by their side. She almost couldn't believe it. She didn't want to believe it. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

She turned to Ron who looked equally grim and horrified, he wrapped an arm around her pulling her close. "Kingsley," he said, before clearing his throat. "Why can't we leave this room? Why is it a secret?" he asked. Something else was going on, something Ron wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know.

Kingsley hesitated. Whatever it was, it was weighing on him. The disturbing look in his eyes unsettled them. "They were both found with Dark Marks burned into the forehead."

Three pairs of eyes widened in horror. Hermione and Ron turned on Harry.

"Has your scar been hurting?" they both asked.

Harry shook his head. "No, not in years," he assured them. Of course, that only left them with questions. "Voldemort's dead."

Harry wasn't sure if he was trying to convince himself or his friends. But he was sure of it. He'd watched Voldemort die. He'd seen them bury his body. He'd watched as Kingsley had snapped his wand in too. And he and Ron had spent the last few years rounding up all the Death Eater's that had escaped. Some still eluded. But to execute

"This has got to be Death Eaters," Ron said, his acute tactical mind already trying to see the opponents. Maybe McNair? He was last spotted in Romania."

Kingsley shook his head. "It's too early to say. But we wanted to inform the three of you right away. In case, well, in case it's starting again."

"No," Hermione said vehemently. "It can't be starting again."

Kingsley looked agitated, his shoulders seemed to sag. "There's something else. Sybil Trelawney was at Ivermorny this morning," the dread in his voice was evident as he continued. "She made a prophecy."

"So what?" scoffed Hermione. She makes prophecies everyday, most of them are complete rubbish."

"Most," Kingsley agreed. "But not this one. I had the vials of the memory of one of the witnesses brought over by an American Auror."

The weathered Ministry of Magic pulled out a small glass vial and placed it on a nearby shelf. From his robes he pulled out a small metal disk, which as soon as he placed on the desk, it grew twice its size.

"I think all of you need to see this."

Harry hesitated. He did not have fond memories of Penseieves. Whatever it was, he was positive he didn't want to know.

Ron, wanting the whole bloody thing over with as quickly as possible, stalked over to the desk, grabbed the vial from the shelf and poured it in.

"Come on, then," he said looking at the other two. "The sooner we see it, the sooner we don't have to look at it again."

Hermione nodded in agreement and walked over to it. She automatically grabbed Ron's hand, knowing that whatever it was, whatever she was about to see, it would feel colossally worse if she didn't have him beside her.

Harry advanced on it last, a grim, haunted look taking over his face. There were few people in the whole of Wizarding Britain as haunted by the events of the Second Wizarding War than him. Burdened with a never-ending guilt and a limelight that would probably never die, Harry couldn't have been more apprehensive. But Ron was right. The sooner they knew, the sooner they could take action.

Just as they had entered the into the trap door on their first adventure so many years ago, they did it together.

They found themselves floating and landing quickly into the auditorium of Ivermorney School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. All three had been there before to give speeches and testimonials.

That was why Professor Trelwany had been there to begin with.

As they listened to her begin to talk, Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It's rubbish." But before the words were out of her mouth, all three of them noticed Trelanwy's tone chaging, her eyes rolling back and the words spilling forth from her.

A cold, sharp shiver went through Harry's spine. The Dark Lord's Secret? The Dark Lord's Secret? How many fucking secrets did the Dark Lord have? Seven horcruxes wasn't enough.

Harry jumped out of the Penseieve with a jolt. "No," was the only word that left his lips. Hermione and Ron followed both looking shocked, alarmed and angry.

"Oh, my god," Hermione said, her eyes filling with tears. "What secret? What was vanquished?"

"Why are these things always so fucking vague?" Ron said darkly.

Kingsley shrugged as if were nothing important but they all knew it was most likely because he didn't know what to do. "At this point, we can only speculate. But that's why we need the three of you. During the war, did you ever hear anything about a buried secret?"

Before anyone else could say anything a silvery figure in the shape of a raven came bursting through the room. "Kingsley, we need you here right away."

"I've got to go," Kingsley said with a deep sigh. "Alan, Alexa's son, he's in America. He'll be here soon. I've got to do what I can to keep this out of the Prophet. In the meantime, Harry, Ron, get over to the office. I'll have someone escort you to the crime scene. As soon as you can, the three of you should think about what you did during the war. Something that you didn't think was relevant in the Inquiry."

All three bristled at that. The Inquiry Into the Secret Mission of the Second Wizarding War, as it was officially known had been an official session the newly rebuilt Wizgemanot after the War.

All three of them had to testify about what they'd been doing during the War. Everything from their mission from Dumbledore to the Battle of Hogwarts. Some details they omitted, some they had no choice but to divulge. Professor Slughorn was called on to testify, as were the portraits of Dumbledore and Snape. Lucius and Narcissa had also testified.

"We will," Harry said finally, glancing at the pained expressions on his two friends' faces. The War was a sensitive subject for all of them.

With that, the four wizards walked back down the stairs.

Kingsley put on a large smile. "Well, I've got to be going," he said clapping Arthur on the shoulder.

"So soon?" Arthur said, glancing at his son who was silent and had a faraway look in his eyes that mirrored the expression on his son and daughter-in-law's faces.

"I'm afraid so, Arthur. I'll see you at work. Harry, Ron, I'll see you in a moment."

With that, the Minster of Magic disappeared with a pop, leaving a room full of Weasleys with nothing but curiosity and the slightest bit of alarm.

Ginny was at Harry's side in an instant, the row they'd been having completely forgotten. "Harry, what's going on?"

Harry looked at his wife, her eyes expecting and earnest, her hand placed firmly on his shoulder. "I'm sorry Gin," he said after a long pause. "I can't say."

Ginny's eyes flashed. "You can't say?" Her incredulity was apparent. It was no secret that she always felt outside of the Triangle Harry, Ron and Hermione had formed. They didn't exclude her on purpose (anymore) but it was undeniable that the three of them forged a bond that no one else could be a part of or truly understand.

"It's Ministry Stuff," Hermione said soothingly. She was the most aware of how Ginny felt and did everything she could to combat it. On this instance, however, her hands were tied.

"Everything all right?" Bill asked, sensing the tension in the room.

"Of course," Ron said. "Harry and I just have to go somewhere."

Ron didn't like the fact that he'd gotten very adept at lying. Of course, if there was another war on the horizon, it wouldn't be a secret for too long.

Ron kissed Hermione goodbye slightly longer than he would've normally. He could tell by the look in her eyes that her brain was already going through everything, every experience, every second of the Horcrux Hunt. He knew, because he was too.

"Ron," Harry said once they bid the Weasley clan goodbye and arrived outside of the Ministry. "Do you think it could be happening again? I mean, it can't be happening again. This is all some sick joke some twisted ex Death Eater came up with and we're gonna square it away. Because it can't be happening again. It just can't. I mean all that we did during the war, and everything we've done since."

Ron shook his head grimly as they stepped into the Department for Magical Law Enforcement. Everyone in the department seemed to be in a frenzy.

"Apparently," he said finally. "It wasn't enough."