Hi! I'm new to fanfiction, so this is not only my first Harry Potter fic, but my first story. Give it a chance, and give me some feedback so I know whether to continue or not. :) Thanks for taking the time to visit!
Disclaimer: Don't own anything, unfortunately.
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He had no time to think. The chaos emitting from every corner of this room may have impaired his focus on the smaller details in this predicament, but the adrenaline rushing through Ronald Weasley's veins left his senses heightened and very much aware. His decision had been composed of extreme loyalty to his friends and the instinctive desire to ensure their survival over his. As he stood in the middle of the rambunctious room along the side of Harry, Hermione, Dobby, and Griphook, Ron's main objective was to escape as soon and as painlessly as possible. He knew from their plotting in the cellar that Dobby was to Disapparate them from the Malfoy Manor to Shell Cottage, and therefore all of the friends were clinging to each other desperately. Dobby was going to turn on the spot at any moment, shifting the group from inescapable peril to a sanctuary of solitude. Ron's eyes darted around the room apprehensively as he waited for the approaching moment, his eyes continuously surveying the nearly unconscious Hermione.
But the chance of escape rushed away out of his mind as he felt something grip his other arm. Ron had a split-second to act, having felt Bellatrix Lestrange's fingers wrapped themselves firmly around his forearm. She intended to join the group as they Disapparated, arriving wherever Dobby was going to take them. All of them would end up at Shell Cottage – including a Death Eater.
Ron could not let this happen. That would be the death of the entire group. He had no time to consider the danger his decision would put him in. He only felt an instinctive compassion for his friends, a feeling that would force him to put them first. In mere seconds Dobby would lead the group into blackness, and in mere seconds Voldemort himself would arrive at the Manor in search of Harry. Bellatrix would be able to relay their location through her Dark Mark, making the appearance to Shell Cottage pointless. Not only would his friends be in danger then, but so would his brother and Fleur. Ron knew what he had to do. As soon as he felt Bellatrix's grip tighten, Ron let go of Hermione.
His friends disappeared right before his eyes, vanishing into the suffocating blackness that was associated with Apparating, leaving him very much alone and defenseless in the parlor of Malfoy Manor. He glanced around the room quickly, seeing Greyback still glowering behind a chair, the Malfoys huddled together by the fireplace, and Bellatrix still retaining the grip on his arm. All stared at the now vacant place in the middle of the room, all of their mouths in a silent 'o' of shock. They knew that the Dark Lord would unleash an incredible wrath upon them for losing Harry Potter yet again.
Ron's spine went cold when he found Bellatrix's eyes sliding over to his face, an unspeakable anger replacing the fear of her Lord's wrath. That anger was directed at Ron, surely for letting go of his friends to hinder her chances of recapturing them. Before Ron could lift his wand and stutter a poorly pronounced spell, Bellatrix had dug her nails into his skin and thrown him against the wall. The hand that had not been gripping his arm claimed his wrist, smashing it against the wall until he dropped his wand.
"Pick it up, Narcissa!" She bellowed, using her forearm to apply pressure across Ron's throat. Through his fear he vaguely noted how strong she was. "Where did they go?!" She demanded of him, digging her nails further into his skin. Ron was sure that she was drawing blood by now.
"Telling you would defeat the whole purpose of my staying behind, now, wouldn't it?" he retorted, his anger toward her fueling his courage. He had heard her torturing Hermione. There was no way he'd ever cower before her.
"He's coming," Lucius announced softly, any volume from his vocal chords becoming repressed from the unbelievable fear creeping into everyone's hearts. Narcissa was tearing up, the hand that held Ron's wand shaking as she attempted to keep it pointed threateningly.
"Draco, go get Pettigrew," she murmured hurriedly, probably to get her son out of the room that would be occupied by a wrathful Dark Lord at any moment.
"Tell me!" Bellatrix screeched, a mad glint leaping from both eyes as she pressed Ron further into the wall. "Or I'll throw you into the fireplace with a body-binding spell!" He could tell she was only so forceful because of Voldemort's close proximity. He couldn't help but taunt her, or rather the whole room for that matter.
"You're in deep shit, aren't you?"
Her reply was a rough backhand across his face, twirling his head until a cheek lay flat against the wall. Her interrogation, however, was interrupted by a large crashing sound that filled the hallway outside the parlor. A door flew by the entryway, having been blasted open by the Lord Voldemort as he had descended upon the Manor.
Bellatrix almost recoiled from Ron as her fear re-seized her, the sight of Voldemort reminding her of the inevitable punishment that awaited her. She wrapped a hand around Ron's throat to hold him, but also to allow her to turn her body toward her Lord. Lucius cowered in the corner shamelessly, his eyes locking with his wife's apprehensively. Narcissa continued pointing Ron's wand at the prisoner; however she could no longer keep her eyes on him or her sister. Greyback stood taller than most in the room, taking security in the fact that he was the one who had found Potter, not lost him.
Ron stood tall against the wall, clinging to every ounce of courage still left in his chest. He had not forgotten why he was in this predicament. Although he was terrified of what he'd have to endure, he knew that his sacrifice would protect those who mattered the most to him. Now he totally understood why Lily Potter had been fearless in the last moments of her life.
Voldemort's eyes scanned the entire room, surveying his frightened followers and the prisoner who looked a little too defiant. When he did not find who he was looking for, he turned his cold eyes to Bellatrix, the one who had called him through the Dark Mark. "Where's Potter?" He asked needlessly, the fear upon his servant's face being answer enough. He let out a blood-curdling scream of indescribable anger.
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Harry felt himself fall to the ground, the impact cushioned by what felt like sand. He immediately shot up, looking around at the group that was joining him to make sure they were all out of danger. The smell of sea salt entered his nostrils, so he was sure that they must have reached the right destination. Also, he heard Dean and Luna calling his name loudly as they ran forward to help the group. His eyes scanned the people scatter at his feet, still recovering from their trip through an uncomfortable vacuum. Griphook was still clinging to the Sword of Griffindor, having rolled a few feet away from the others upon landing. Dobby lay the closest to Harry's feet, shaking his head to make his ears flap as sand rained down from his scalp. Harry found Hermione next to him as well, for he had grabbed one of her arms during the Apparition. She was slumped against the ground, having apparently landing this way. She was still unconscious, so Harry immediately dropped to his knees beside her.
"Dean! Luna! Hermione's hurt. Get Bill, please!" He distantly heard Luna calling out for Bill as he checking his friend's pulse. She was still alive, but not well. "Dobby! Please get her some water. It might wake her up."
"Certainly, Harry Potter," the elf bowed, running toward the cottage as Bill suddenly dropped beside Harry.
"What happened?"
Harry's mind halted anything he was about to say, reminding himself that he could not tell Bill the truth without revealing the mission Dumbledore had left him and his friends. But before he even had the chance to think of an alternate explanation, he noticed the absence of a certain redhead by Hermione's side.
"Where's Ron?" He looked around for his friend fearfully, knowing that if the redhead was not by Hermione's side right now he was probably hurt as well. However, Harry saw no sign of his best friend among the crowd forming around him. "Where's Ron?" He asked again as Dean kneeled by Hermione's limp body.
"Ron?" Dean called, looking around at the people as well, surveying the beach, and turning back to Harry. Uneasiness filled his eyes. "I don't see him, mate."
"He's probably inside," Harry thought out-loud as Dobby returned with the bucket of water Harry had requested. Bill immediately began to administer this to the unconscious brunette, leaving Harry free to venture away from the group. "I'll check. Try getting her to wake up, but don't move her until she's ready!"
Harry jogged up to the cottage, unable to keep his nerves at bay. Each second that ticked by seemed to grow heavier on Harry's heart, as if every grain of Ron's hourglass was slipping away quietly. He knew that if his friend had been strong enough to make it to the cottage, he would've been using his energy to help Hermione instead of taking a bathroom break.
"Ron!" Harry called as he entered the house. "R-- !" He was unable to finish the redhead's name as a strangled cry left his lips. A soaring pain was bursting from his scar.
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Despite his earlier cheek, Ron knew that HE was the one in deep shit now. He had had to watch fearfully as Voldemort cast punishment unto those who had let Harry escape, rendered immobile with a body-binding charm. The Dark Lord had thrown Ron a look or two, each one a mixture of calculation and vegence. The youngest Weasley son was sure that the wizard was saving him for last; no doubt he would be bombarded by thousands of questions about his friend.
Now that Ron thought about it, in regards to the Dark Lord's most wanted list, he was probably toward the top. If Voldemort couldn't get his hands on Harry, who would be a better substitute than the latter's best friend? Ron's stomach twisted nervously as he thought of himself from the Dark Lord's point-of-view. He was chock-full of Harry-related info, and there was no doubt that Voldemort would try to get it to spill out of him.
Spill. Dear Merlin. I'm going to spill all over the floor! Ron thought frantically, right as Voldemort turned toward him. Ron never imagined eyes so red, or a smile so menancing. Think of Harry, think of Hermione, think of everyone you're helping right now… The redhead tried to comfort himself, but Voldemort's gaze had the same effect of a dementor.
"I'm going to tell you what I wish to know," The Dark Lord's high, cold voice floated over toward Ron. "Then, you are going to give me the desired answers."
Ron didn't like how open ended this sounded. There was no "or else," making it clear that the wizard approaching him didn't plan on needing a back-up plan. Suddenly Ron felt his body slumping down the wall as the body-bind was lifted. He realized this quickly enough to catch himself before he sprawled at Voldemort's feet. He was unsure whether to thank the wizard for the sudden relief, or to be even more terrified by its implications.
"Alright, Mr. Weasley," Voldemort let the name roll off his tongue. The polite smile that crossed his lips gave Ron a horrible shiver. "First, I would like to know the whereabouts of a certain Harry Potter."
Ron shuddered again as Voldemort placed his wand on his jugular, tracing it over his neck and jaw.
"I don't know," he managed to stutter, the constant mantra in his head of protecting his friends helping him to hold onto an ounce of courage.
Voldemore shook his head. "I somehow doubt that."
"You're wasting your time," Ron said, clearing his throat. "I don't know where they were planning to go."
Voldemort smirked a little vaguely as Ron felt himself getting an awful headache. It started as a dull pain, but was getting warmer by the minute. "You are Potter's best friend, are you not?" The Dark Lord murmured. "Surely he would include you in his plans."
Ron recognized where the wizard was going. He was only trying to tap into the insecurity of a hero's sidekick. Ron didn't like to fancy himself the sidekick, but wouldn't deny the sensibility of the accusation. "Neither of us had a plan," he decided to say. "We were only trying to escape. There was no other aim at the time." His headache began to feel like fire, slowing simmering at the back of his neck.
"I'm sure the siuation was awfully chaotic," Voldemort met eyes with Ron, and suddenly the pain progressed from dull to sharp. The redhead couldn't help but wipe the sweat from his forehead. He was feeling so hot… he had a strange feeling that the reason for this pain was his flaming red hair. Leave Voldemort to get creative with the torture. "But that's no reason for any confusion on your part. In fact," he stepped further away from Ron, allowing the latter to slowly make his way from the wall that he had been pressed against. He didn't want to look so scared. "…in order to to disapparate, you have to have a remarkably clear image of where you are going. So tell me: where?"
Ron rolled his eyes, his fear slowly receding behind his growing frustration and the mantra repeating in his head. Do this for Harry and Hermione. You are brave. You are a Gryffindor. "You're really thick, aren't you? I told you: I. Don't. Know."
Before he was quite done speaking Ron was only aware of an awful pain, rattling his spine and his head and every other inch of his body that he could think of. He clenched his teeth, intent upon not crying out, when suddenly the pain subsided. He didn't remember falling to the floor, but was now looking up at Voldemort.
"Perhaps you remember now?"
Ron had barely shaken his head when the pain returned.
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"Harry! HARRY!" Harry opened his eyes, finding himself being shaken by a conscious Hermione. "You were yelling," she reported, looking into his eyes, concerned.
Harry was still in shock from what he had seen through Voldemort's mind. He was torn between reporting this to Hermione and the concern he had for her condition. She looked horrible, and obviously should not be overexcited after being tortured, but he knew he could never keep this from her.
"Voldemort's got Ron."
Ok then! Give me some feedback please! Is there anything that you would like to be included later? I don't care how specific, lol. I just know how annoying it is to search for hours on fanfiction to find several stories you hate, and maybe one that you think you like until something really freaky happens. I'm not a slash person at all, very pro-Ron and Hermione, and not into sexual abuse type torture. Anything else though is fair game... so get to reviewing!