Ron Weasley in the Chamber of Secrets
A/N: It's been a very long time since I published stuff on here, courtesy of uni work, but suffice it to say something new popped into my head: what was Ron's state of mind when his best friend was down in the Chamber of Secrets fighting off the teenage Riddle, killing the Basilisk and attempting to save his sister? A few things to note: first, this story is derived from the novel, although I have at times in the past referenced the films too in my stories.
Ron's mind was going into overdrive as he vigorously attempted to shut down the various horrors in his mind. What would Ginny look like if they came across…her? He refused to acknowledge the words her body or, worse yet, her remains. How could they possibly defend themselves from the Basilisk if, as it seemed logical, it slithered from out of a hiding hole in the gloom to attack them? Was the heir of Slytherin waiting for them? If so, he thought, he'd damn well make sure the Heir would pay a price, broken wand or not, for what he'd done to his other best friend, to his sister, to his family…..
That was better, he thought. Blistering anger and a thirst for vengeance was a better motivator than the pure terror he felt before. It distracted him from the likely prospect that they were on a recovery, not a rescue mission. Harry was in front leading them, and his sharp intake of breath brought Ron's fantasies about throttling the Heir (funnily enough, in his imagination, the figure had slick blond hair much like a certain loathsome Slytherin student) to a halt.
His foot crunched on the skeletal remains of another unfortunate rodent as terror once again replaced fury. Harry's beam of light illuminated an extremely long, slender outline with green and grey scales that stretched out beyond the modest illumination into the gloom. Ron's stomach dissolved. Was this the creature that had stalked Hermione near the Library, killed Myrtle and had the power to Petrify a ghost? Lockhart slapped his hands over his eyes and for once, Ron felt no desire to punch him as he waited with bated breath for the thing to move.
"Maybe it's asleep," he heard Harry whisper, but Ron's mind was divided between thoughts of where Ginny lay (had she been consumed?), what Hermione must've been thinking before this thing got the better of her and Penelope, and of how quickly he could turn and run to cover in this dilapidated tunnel if the monster's head turned suddenly. That was pointless, he reasoned, as snakes had a superb sense of smell. Besides, he would never abandon Harry or this mission. Not while Hermione remained a prisoner in her own body so many floors above them. Not while his sister remained down here, alive or otherwise.
He also amended his earlier thoughts. This thing hadn't got the better of Hermione. As if anything could do that, he chuckled to himself, marveling at his friend's remarkable brain and logic.
But it failed her with this git right here.
No, that was something to tease her about if-, no, when they got out of this cesspool.
Harry moved closer and to Ron's relief, his wandlight revealed that the ghastly shape before them was merely a snake skin, thicker than a sewer pipe and as long as ten of Lockhart. "Blimey," he whispered, and felt a draft of air beside him as Lockhart collapsed.
If only Hermione could see the bloody coward now, he thought savagely as he ordered Lockhart to stand. He was so preoccupied with his scorn towards her ridiculous crush on this charlatan before him that he didn't notice the Professor smoothly roll to his feet in order to tackle him.
In a flash, Ron was stripped of his wand as he glared at Gilderoy Lockhart, some of the latter's vanquished cocky charisma returning. Lockhart's photo-perfect grin had returned, although it was a little lopsided and Ron saw a hardening of his eyes that he distinctly did not like.
"The adventure ends here, boys!" he told them, spellotaped wand held aloft. "I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and that you two tragically lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body. Say goodbye to your memories!"
Ron's temper, which had now been fragile for hours, proceeded to boil over. They had been beaten by a cowardly swindler, who, not content with being useless baggage, was now actively destroying the one last infinitesimal hope of finding Ginny alive. The anger was followed by a looming wave of grief. They had failed Ginny, his whole family, Hermione and all the other unfortunate Petrified victims. Unbidden, flashes of positive memories flashed before him as his view of the tunnel was obscured by forming tears. Christmas dinners at the Burrow, with Ginny proceeding to prank the Twins. He and Hermione, cheering Harry on from the Quidditch Stands. The three of them, sneaking out to see Hagrid and Norbert. He and Hermione being told by Dumbledore that Harry had regained consciousness after fighting Quirrell and Voldemort. Himself, Harry and even Hermione laughing as he produced a small scratching post for the latter's bedside table in the Hospital Wing. His little sister again, laughing away as small children often do as Fred and George turned his teddy bear into a spider. Even that memory he remembered fondly now. If only Hermione and Ginny saw what he did in facing Aragog's family. He'd told Hermione about that, but what did it mean talking to a Petrified person anyway?
I'm sorry, Ginny he thought. Sorry I failed you.
He attempted to pull himself together for an attempt to tackle Lockhart as the latter pointed the wand at Harry, shouted out the incantation, and their world exploded.
Ron hit the revolting tunnel floor instinctively as he saw the flash of green, and covered his face as fragments of wand and rock flew over him. Tentatively getting to his feet and attempting to ignore the furious ringing in his eardums, he noticed Lockhart's unconscious form as a shudder from above alerted him again. A pattern of overlapping cracks had formed in the ceiling above Ron, and with an almighty groan, the roof of the tunnel gave way. He briefly saw Harry take flight as he rushed in the direction of Lockhart - and safety behind a buttress. Roughly pulling the unconscious man around the corner with him, he waited for the deluge of stone to cease.
The last clatters of rock hitting the floor persuaded him that it was safe. Choking after inhaling much dust, he croaked out "Harry?"
A moan emanated from Lockhart as he came to, staring blankly at Ron and the wall of rocks now blocking them from Harry's sight, or so he hoped so anyway, the last thing they needed was Harry incapacitated…
Ron's spirits lifted as he heard Harry shout out in reply.
"I'm here! I'm okay," he called back. "This git-" - he gave Lockhart a look of disdain as he whistled to himself quietly – isn't though, he got blasted by the wand." For once, something rubbish that he owned had saved their hides, he thought, shaking his head at the irony. Aiming at nothing in particular, he kicked at Lockhart's shins. An "ow!" plus an indignant look, and Lockhart's shuffling away to a distant corner were his reward.
"What now?" he heard himself say, and even he was surprised to hear the shakiness of his voice. "We can't get through. It'll take ages." Too long to save Ginny, surely?
And he knew whose fault it was if they were now too late to save Ginny. Ron was coming to the horrible realization that like last year, he had no choice but to let his friend head on and face the dangers that lay ahead alone.
In his frustration, he picked up a stone, and threw it at Lockhart's head. The predictable outcome was another "ow!"
Harry, it seemed, had come to the same conclusion. "Wait there. Wait with Lockhart. I'll go on. If I'm not back in an hour….."
Every one of Ron's nightmare scenarios came flooding back into his head, only this time another set involving a dead Harry came with them. Harry, eaten in a jiffy by the Basilisk. Harry, struck down by a curse. Harry, drowning…
To distract him from the terror and the monotony, Ron needed a distraction. Then, he found one, realising in a flash it would also help Harry and Ginny.
And the Monster of Slytherin find him and Lockhart too, if Harry was unsuccessful….
Shut up.
"I'll try and shift some of this rock," he said shakily. "So you can – can get back through. And, Harry…." Words failed him. Was he really going to see Harry again, or was he hearing his best mate's voice for the last time?
"See you in a bit," he heard Harry say with faux brightness, although he recognized a slight quaver in his friend's voice at the end.
Ron turned back to where Lockhart was, and was pleased to see he had fallen asleep of his own volition. No such luxury for him.
He began heaving the first set of rocks to one side. This he, thought, could easily take hours. Beyond, he thought he heard a distant hiss. The hiss of Parseltongue as spoken by a human, or from a serpentine form?
He thought back to the multiple times he and Hermione had heard the hiss of what they assumed was escaping steam from a broken pipe in the wall. Including that Halloween night when they found Mrs. Norris. As he chucked rocks behind him, he made the resolute decision to not look behind. The hissing had thankfully stopped, but had instead been replaced by an oppressive silence that was even more terrifying. Except for Lockhart's snoring, that was.
What had made Hermione pull out or summon the mirror with Penelope? Was it a moving shadow on an abandoned corridor? Was it a hiss from the wall behind them?
As his skin became raw and red with the heavy labour, he also began to think back to the times when Ginny had been looking peaky. That was not like her at all. In a few years, he thought wryly, the Twins would have to watch out, because she had every ounce of their mischief but with the bonus of a sweet, innocent face.
But instead, her life at Hogwarts had been, as far as he could see, utterly miserable. He was hopeless at many things, but as her brother, he liked to consider himself observant in watching out for her. At breakfast, she virtually never seemed to mingle with her dorm mates, and her apparent best friend, Colin Creevey, had of course been Petrified the night after the match where Lockhart had de-boned Harry's arm.
She had looked ill before the ill-fated Gryffindor - Hufflepuff match some weeks prior, he remembered. Not to mention the times that she flinched at Fred and George's well-intentioned jokes about Harry being the Heir of Slytherin, and Ron's own jokes about Mrs. Norris. Or that she broke into tears heading down to breakfast with him and Hermione when he mentioned Mrs. Norris' fate the day after Halloween.
Why had the Heir selected Ginny as his latest victim?
There was a pattern and a solution to that riddle staring him in the face right now, he knew, but he lacked the brainpower to link the evidence together. Not for the first time, he felt a pang as Hermione's absence, yet again, was sorely felt. She'd have resolved this in a jiffy. She'd found out what the Monster of Slytherin was, even as that same Monster was stalking her.
He dropped a big stone on his foot, kicked angrily at the pile, and proceeded to explode into tears. Grief, fury, frustration, lonelinesss, fear; the reasons were many. Sitting down, he rocked back and forth, his powerful sobs now drowning out Lockhart's snores in the tunnel.
Then….he heard what sound like a bird's call. It was followed by an indistinct harmony, as though it was emanating from the Burrow's badly-tuned radio. It steadily grew louder, as emotions foreign to him for these last few hours made themselves known. Hope, even euphoria. How could that be? Whatever the reason, he began to get the totally illogical impression that everything would be all right. He pursued his work with more vigour.
A distant rumbling was followed by a set of furious hisses, and Ron continued his lonely task, working feverishly and not caring that his hands were starting to bleed profusely. He had to assist Harry, who was now without a doubt in mortal danger. More hisses followed in the minutes that followed, until finally, there was a loud shriek from an animal in pain. Had Harry managed to wound the Basilisk of all creatures? The tunnel was silent again, and Ron continued his task. He could now see through to the other side of the rockfall.
The silence was broken a couple of minutes later by that most ghastly of sounds; that of a human being in excruciating pain. The sound cut of as quickly as it came, and Ron jumped a foot as he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Hello there," Lockhart said genially. "I don't believe we have met?"
Ron sighed and wiped his face of sweat. "Yes we have, Professor," he sighed. "Can you help me?"
"I was a Professor?" Lockhart wondered aloud. "Good gracious! Yes of course."
The assistance from Lockhart lasted all of a minute before he plonked himself down on a rock nearby and announced he was rather bored. As Lockhart started humming, Ron valiantly resisted the temptation to throw another stone at him. He had now created a passage through the rock big enough to allow a man through. His mind though, was starting to think back to the distant, almost inhuman shouts of pain. Surely that meant Harry was dead? Or, at the very least, seriously injured? He'd at least be able to find out soon enough, risk of death be damned. His vision began to swim again.
He was so focused on his task that he didn't notice the door ahead of him, invisible in the gloom of the cavern, swing shut with a creak and a snap. Nor did he notice the brightly coloured plumage of one of the three figures. He also failed to notice the sobbing coming from one of these figures, nor the murmured words of encouragement from another, their arms wrapped protectively around the sobbing individual.
Harry's shout changed everything.
"Ron! Ginny's OK! I've got her!"
Ginny? Alive? Absolutely impossible. And yet, here she was.
Ron let out something meant to be a cheer, but actually ended as a sort of hiccup, as he rushed through the gap that he had created. Brother embraced sister, but Ginny pushed herself away as though she were infected, her arms wrapped around herself defensively.
Ron had many questions to ask Harry and Ginny, but as he, Harry, Ginny, and the dimwit made their way thrillingly up into Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom via Fawkes, he knew they could wait. They had hours, days, weeks ahead in which they could talk. Best of all, he hadn't let Ginny down. Not his family either, he realized, as they made their way into Professor McGonagall's office and he felt his ribs give way beneath his mother's embrace. Horror conflicted with pure relief as Ginny and Harry revealed the source of the year's awful events, as he realized that in no way could he be blamed for Ginny's predicament.
The hours afterwards passed in a blur as he found that he and Harry, instead of being punished by Dumbledore as they feared for one horrible moment, were instead rewarded. But no reward could ever come close to the avalanche of good news coming his way: that Hagrid would soon be back, that Hermione and the others were due to wake at any moment, that a celebratory feast was being prepared for which he would need to clean himself up considerably, and that exams would be cancelled. Even better, he could tease Hermione about her disappointment at this news. It was after all, far easier to focus on that than wonder why their attempted hug turned so damned weird all of a sudden.
Finally, Ginny's sheer delight in spilling the beans on Percy's love life during the train ride back to King's Cross hammered it home for Ron. She was back. Other challenges and dangers, he knew, would inevitably rise in the time ahead. It was, after all, seemingly part and parcel of being Harry's best friend. But for now at least, he could enjoy this golden day of peace with his siblings and his two best friends as the Hogwarts Express thundered towards London.
All was well.
A/N: Yes, the ending deliberately referenced the ending of HBP and DH. Apologies to JKR for the blatant plagiarism.