A/N: Hi! This is my first attempt at fanfic, and I really want to know
what all of you think. Please leave feedback if you like it and want to
read more. I'm open to constructive criticism, too, so feel free to leave
advice and tips. (
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone depicted in this story (at least not at the moment). They all belong to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, WB, and a whole lot of other people that I don't have time to type out.
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Ron Weasley sat in his normal spot at the back of Professor Trelanwey's classroom. The seventh year student had sat at the same table for four years; in fact, the whole class looked much the same as it had in third year with only a few differences. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown still occupied the front table, and besides the years added onto their age, both girls looked just as giddy and interested in Divination as they had when they were thirteen. Ron's roommates, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom, still looked just as amused by Professor Trelawney as they had four years before. Professor Trelawney herself was still prancing around in her horn-rimmed glasses predicting despair and misery for everyone and praising Parvati and Lavender immensely. The only real difference between the make up of the class on that day and the make up of the class on the first day of third year was the obvious absence of two of its students.
Ron's own best friends, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.
Hermione had been absent from the Divination picture for quite sometime- since maybe half-way through the third year. She'd stormed out in a huff after a row with Trelawney about the reality of the "art" and had dropped the class immediately.
But Harry had stuck with Divination right along with Ron. They'd sat at the back table together up until two months ago when Harry had been snuck out of school and placed into hiding. No one, except the headmaster of their school, Albus Dumbledore, knew the whereabouts of this hideout. Ron only knew that Harry had been taken in the middle of the night one evening and placed into hiding with his godfather, convicted murderer Sirius Black. Harry hadn't known it beforehand, and Ron hadn't known until he'd woken up to find Harry's bed empty and his cubby bare. It was bad enough that Harry wasn't there, but what made the situation even worse was the fact that there were strict and absolute restrictions against any and all communication with him. No owls were to be exchanged at all, and Ron hadn't heard anything from Harry in two long months.
"Mr. Weasley," Trelawney's irritating whisper cut through Ron's thoughts, "what do you see in your leaves?"
Ron glanced down at his teacup and furrowed his brow. Four years of tea leaf reading, and his inner-eye still only showed him a pile of leftovers.
Not even bothering to make up a prediction, he shrugged. "A pile of soggy, brown mush."
Dean, Seamus, and Neville snickered loudly, and Ron glimpsed the girls turning around to roll their eyes at him. Professor Trelawney, however, was far from amused. She instantly reached down and picked Ron's teacup up for her own evaluation.
An overly-dramatic frown covered her face, and she closed her eyes, obviously against the horrors that the cup held.
"What?" Ron snapped, not at all in the mood to have his murder predicted.
Trelawney shook her head and opened her eyes to look sympathetically at him. "You will be receiving terrible news very soon."
The other guys laughed when Ron sighed loudly and rolled his eyes.
The teacher, though, ignored them and finished her prediction. "news about young Mr. Potter."
The laughter instantly stopped as all the other Gryffindors looked around warily at Ron for his reaction. The topic of Harry was very much avoided in the Gryffindor Common Room. No one really wanted to talk about him because everyone had their own personal fears about the situation. And if anyone did talk about it, they knew better than to do so in front of Ron or Hermione. Ron had walked into his dormitory on more than one occasion to find his roommates instantly splitting up and silencing themselves upon his appearance.
And as Trelawney dared to make one of her stupid predictions about Harry at a time when he actually was in real danger, Ron found himself having to force himself not to reach for his wand and hex her. He couldn't quite believe she had the audacity to take the situation so lightly.
Knowing that if he looked at the awful woman for a moment longer, he would definitely do something he would later regret, Ron took a deep breath and silently gathered up his books. Then, calmly swinging his bag over his shoulder, he walked wordlessly to the trap door and opened it. He heard the teacher demand that he take his seat, but he ignored her and climbed the ladder down to the level below the Divination classroom. He wasn't sure where he was going, so he simply started walking aimlessly through the corridors.
About ten minutes later, Ron heard the sharp voice of the Transfiguration professor behind him. "Mr. Weasley!" Ron stopped instantly and turned around to face Professor McGonagall guiltily. "Why aren't you in class?"
Ron glanced at the floor, quickly trying to think up an excuse that sounded better than, "I walked out of Divination because Trelawney pissed me off." The best he came up with was, "Uh."
To his surprise, though, she didn't launch into a huge chewing out. She looked quite worn down, actually, as if she was simply too tired to discipline him. Instead, she almost regretfully said, "You need to go to the Headmaster."
Ron was shocked. He didn't think that skipping half of a class was enough to warrant a trip to the Headmaster's office. He'd done things much worse in his seven years at Hogwarts that hadn't resulted in an appointment with Dumbledore.
He tried to plead his case. "But. I just."
Professor McGonagall interrupted him with a shake of the head. "Just follow me, Mr. Weasley."
She didn't wait for a reply. She turned in the direction of the headmaster's office, and Ron reluctantly followed her. He took notice of the fact that she purposely walked a few steps ahead of him, and Ron had some unknown suspicion that she was doing this in order to avoid looking at him.
He went over various excuses that he could give Dumbledore about his whereabouts when McGonagall had caught him wandering the corridors during school hours. He was sure that no amount of sympathy was going to get him out of trouble with his parents if they received an owl about their youngest son walking out of a lesson. He thought back to when Hermione had done the exact same thing in third year. She hadn't gotten into any trouble at all; he somehow didn't think this was quite fair.
His thoughts about Hermione were interrupted, though, as he followed Professor McGonagall into Dumbledore's office and saw her sitting in one of the plush chairs across the room. Hermione looked up when he entered, and he noticed that she was looking just as confused as he felt.
Ron wracked his brain trying to think of anything they'd done recently that could have landed them in Dumbledore's office, but nothing came to mind. Since Harry had been gone, they really hadn't done much of anything except study and play the occasional game of chess to distract themselves from the fact that they weren't sleeping as well as they should have been. They'd snuck back to the dormitory after curfew a few nights ago because they'd managed to lose track of time while Hermione was tutoring him on Shrinking Charms in the library. But she was Head Girl, and she had special privileges that other students didn't have; being in the library after hours was surely one of them.
There was something in the way that Professor McGonagall simply crossed the room and stood in the corner, quite obviously avoiding both of her students, that told Ron that this wasn't simply a scolding about rule- breaking. Professor Dumbledore was sitting at his desk silently, his face solemn and grave in a way that didn't help to ease the tension of the room. He looked up when Ron walked in and addressed him quietly.
"Mr. Weasley, please sit down."
Ron looked on curiously, but he followed the directions and sat down in the maroon chair beside Hermione. "Are we in trouble?" He glanced at his female best friend who raised her eyebrows in question.
Dumbledore sighed quietly and shook his head. "No. There's just something we need to tell you. You need to hear it from us before you hear it elsewhere."
Ron didn't really like the sound of that, and apparently neither did Hermione because she spoke up at that time. "Well, if you don't mind, Sir, I'd better get back to Arithmancy. We were in the middle of a very important lesson, and I've already missed quite a bit." Ron could tell by the nervous tone of her voice that she didn't want to hear whatever they had to say because she was scared.
"I'm sorry, Miss Granger," Professor Dumbledore answered timidly, "but this is very important."
Hermione twisted anxiously in her sat and looked down at the floor. Ron watched her as she tried desperately not to notice that Professor McGonagall kept wiping at her eyes. He was quite sure he didn't want to hear what the headmaster had to say, either.
There was a moment of what seemed like an eternity of silence before Dumbledore finally spoke again. His voice actually quivered as he said the next sentence. "This morning, there was an attack. And it involved Mr. Potter."
His words left a deafening silence ringing in the office until Hermione finally broke it. "Where's Harry now?" Her voice was strangely confident, as though she strongly believed that Harry was getting fixed up in the infirmary at that very moment by Madame Pomfrey.
Ron knew better. He knew what was coming next- he'd known from the moment he'd walked into the graveness of the office.
But he refused to believe it.
Staring straight ahead, Ron missed the sympathetic look that the Headmaster sent their way. He didn't see the old man's eyes brim with tears. He didn't notice that Professor McGonagall had her own eyes closed and her head bowed. And he didn't see Hermione pleading with her eyes for them to confirm her silly belief. But he did hear the words.
"Harry. Harry is dead."
These three words, four if the repetition was counted, would change their worlds forever. Ron didn't flinch at the news, and for a long, long moment, the only sound heard was the small, choked sob from Professor McGonagall. Suddenly, though, Hermione made a gagging noise and clutched her mouth quickly.
She was going to throw up.
All in an instance, the Transfiguration teacher had rushed to her side, and Professor Dumbledore had pressed the magical intercom button and was paging Madame Pomfrey.
Ron simply looked at her.
And then, out of nowhere, he spoke. "Leave her alone."
Professor McGonagall looked up sympathetically and sent a pitying look in his direction. But Ron wasn't having any of her pity.
Because the moment the words were spoken, he stopped believing them.
"Ron." Professor McGonagall spoke using his first name, a rarity she'd used only a few times over the years. She was clearly trying to "soothe his pain," but he didn't need any soothing.
Ignoring his teacher, he spoke directly to the girl on his left.
"Hermione, stop it." He sent her a sharp look, and she met his eye for only a second before whimpering softly and breaking down into shaking sobs.
Professor McGonagall immediately wrapped an arm around her, infuriating Ron. He jumped to his feet and heatedly addressed them. "Just leave her alone! She's fine!" He literally pushed his teacher out of the way and started commanding the younger woman. "Hermione, stop crying," he said sternly. "Just stop it!"
Hermione sent him a bewildered look, and Professor Dumbledore crossed the room, laying a comforting hand on Ron's arm. Ron, though, shrugged away and started yelling at the old man.
"Get away from me, you lying bastard!"
This really sent Hermione over the edge, and she broke down completely, She wrapped her hands into the hair at the sides of her face and tugged in frustration as she squeezed her eyes shut against the reality of the situation.
Ron was furious with her.
Completely ignoring the way both of his professors were looking warily at him, he started yelling at Hermione. "Would you just stop it?! Just stop crying!"
When she gave no sign of adhering to his commands, he literally took matters into his own hands and yanked her to her feet roughly. Gripping her shoulders tightly, he shook her. "They're lying! Do you hear me? Look at me!" Hermione opened her eyes and raised her head to look tearfully at him, what was very possibly fear showing in her brown eyes. Ron spoke to her sternly. "They're lying."
Hermione whimpered once more and shook her head slowly. "Ron."
Professor McGonagall made another move to comfort Hermione, but Ron yanked his friend away and glared at the teacher. "Don't you dare fucking touch her," he warned dangerously.
McGonagall bit her lower lip and turned slowly to the Headmaster who shook his head silently. Ron ignored them both and turned his attention back to Hermione.
"Don't you listen to them, you hear me?"
Hermione closed her eyes and tried desperately to calm her tears momentarily. Trying to reason with him, she quietly said, "Ron, please stop."
But Ron was outraged. Digging his fingertips even more deeply into her shoulders, he responded angrily. "No, you stop it! Stop crying, damn it!"
Hermione squirmed slightly, crying even more as she pleaded with him. "Ron, stop. Please! You're hurting me."
Ron instantly let go of her and took a step backwards. He wanted to apologize, but he couldn't bring himself to it. Instead, he just glared at her. "Harry is not dead," he said dryly. "And you know that, Hermione. You know he wouldn't just fucking die without even saying goodbye!"
She stared silently at him for a moment before finally losing it all together and completely breaking down. "Please," she begged quietly. "Please, don't do this."
Ron had never been angrier with her in his entire life.
How could she possibly believe that horrible bastard? How could he be so cruel as to lie about something as terrible as what he'd just said? And why was Hermione believing him? Didn't she know that Harry wouldn't do that to them? He wouldn't just up and get himself killed and leave them all alone! And Hermione should have known that.
Completely disgusted with her, he glared once more at her before turning and stalking out of the office wordlessly.
Hermione watched him go before covering her face with her hands and sliding silently down the wall and to the ground.
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Ron walked aimlessly down the corridor, anger and hurt coursing through his veins all the while. He couldn't and wouldn't believe anything that had just been said in that room. They were lying, and Hermione was just too damn gullible.
Harry wouldn't do that to them.
He just wouldn't. Harry knew better than to go and get himself killed, and Ron refused to believe any different. There's no way that he would just leave them like that with no warning whatsoever.
Ron didn't know where he was going, but he didn't care, either. All he knew was that he needed to get as far away from Dumbledore's office as possible. He was walking quickly and pointedly, though with no real destination. It wasn't until he spotted a flash of red hair that he slowed and took notice of his surroundings.
At first, he thought the figure was Ginny, but upon a second look, he realized that the redhead was, in fact, his mother. She was hurrying quickly toward him, her face pale and a worried expression covering her features. Ron stopped walking and simply waited for her to meet him. When she did, he suddenly felt strangely weak.
"Oh, Ron," she breathed quietly, reaching up to place an unsteady hand against his cheek. She was much shorter than him, but her presence was simply overpowering.
In a quivering voice that he didn't recognize as his own, he quietly spoke. "Mum, Dumbledore said." He couldn't force himself to say the words, but he knew his mother already understood. Desperately, he said, "But it's not true." After a small pause, he weakly said, "Is it?"
Mrs. Weasley bit down on her lower lip, and Ron could tell that she was about to burst into tears. With no verbal answer, she barely gave a nod as she looked up at him sympathetically. Quietly, she finally spoke. "I'm sorry."
Ron stared silently at her for a long, long moment. Then, with his lip quivering dangerously, he allowed himself to be pulled into his mother's consoling embrace. As she hugged him, he felt as if he'd suddenly decreased in age by a decade and was merely seven years old all over again. He wanted desperately to escape back to that time when he could simply crawl into his mother's lap and all worries and pains could be taken away with a simple kiss on his forehead.
He was vaguely aware of her hand smoothing down his unruly locks in the same fashioned habit that she'd had since he was a toddler. He knew that it was his mum and that it would be okay for him to break down in her arms. He knew he could cry to her and that he probably needed to.
But he didn't.
He couldn't really. There was something holding the tears back, and he couldn't force them to fall. Maybe he was in shock, but he didn't know. He couldn't really comprehend too much of anything at the moment. All he knew for sure was that his mother would never, ever lie to him.
Harry was dead.
Dead.
His best friend in the world was dead. And there was nothing he could do about it. He was helpless. What was done was done, and there was nothing to bring Harry back. He was dead, and Ron was forced to do nothing at all except deal with the words.
He felt his mother pull away reluctantly, and he saw her blue eyes look sadly up at him. She kept one hand on his shoulder as she questioned him. "Honey, where's Hermione?"
Hermione.
He'd hurt her. She'd said so herself. He'd been so mean to her, and Harry was dead. And he didn't know why. Why had he yelled at her? Why had he shaken her like he had?
Why was Harry dead?
Shaking his head slowly, he managed to make out a few comprehensible words. "I think she's. in Dumbledore's office."
Mrs. Weasley nodded slightly, reaching up to brush some of her youngest son's hair out of his face. "I'm going to take you both home, okay?"
Ron nodded unevenly, not really knowing what else to do. He couldn't think clearly, so he simply went along with everything his mother was saying.
She looked sadly at him once more before gently leading him back down the hall in the direction of the Headmaster's office. The door was still open, and they entered the office to see Professor Dumbledore conversing quietly with someone through the fire that Ron couldn't see and Professor McGonagall comforting a now sobbing Hermione.
Ron saw his best female friend and knew he should feel awful. But he couldn't.
He couldn't feel anything.
Professor McGonagall looked up when Mrs. Weasley and her son entered the office and looked meaningfully at the earlier of the two. The two women exchanged silent conversation through a few passed looks, but Ron was simply too evaded to even try and comprehend the meaning.
Mrs. Weasley crossed the room and gently took the crying girl into her arms as Professor McGonagall stood up and took a small step backwards. Ron stood back silently as he watched his mother whispering something to Hermione as the younger buried her face into the elder's shoulder and cried desperately, her whole body convulsing with the sobs that were escaping her throat.
It was the sight of Hermione crying so hard that finally forced Ron to look away. As he did, he caught sight of the head in the fireplace that was talking quietly with his headmaster.
It was Sirius Black.
He was surprised to see Sirius looking back at him silently. They looked at each other for a short moment before Sirius turned away and said something to Dumbledore that Ron couldn't hear. He saw the headmaster nod once, and then Sirius' head disappeared. Moments later, however, he appeared in the room with a quiet "Pop."
Obviously, it was acceptable to Apparate into Hogwarts under certain circumstances. Ironically, Hermione didn't even seem to notice that her favorite bit of quoting wasn't completely true.
Sirius crossed the room silently until he stood directly in front of Ron. Neither of them spoke for a minute until Sirius quietly instructed the younger man to follow him into the corridor.
Ron was hesitant, but he followed nonetheless. When they were in the privacy of the corridor away from a sobbing Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, and two bewildered professors, Ron noticed that Sirius' face was paler than normal and that his eyes were red in contrast. He'd been crying.
Sirius Black had been crying.
When he finally spoke, Sirius' voice was unsteady and uncertain. He didn't seem sure of what he wanted to say but rather seemed as if he was speaking because it was what was expected of him. "Ron. I'm sorry."
And all at once, something inside of Ron cleared, and he was finally able to see the whole picture and comprehend what was going on. Anger like he'd never felt before surfaced, and he glared at Harry's godfather. His voice was icy and scathing all at once as he spoke. "This is all your fault."
Sirius closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, he spoke in a reasoning voice. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry, my arse," Ron said angrily. "You fucking killed my best friend."
"Ron, I." He didn't get a chance to finish his explanation because Ron cut him off.
"You were supposed to be protecting him! That's what they told us. When Harry left, they said, 'Don't worry. Sirius will take care of him and make sure nothing happens.' You were supposed to protect him!" Ron was finally letting his emotions out, woe behold the receiver.
"There was nothing I could do," Sirius said desperately. He didn't raise his voice; instead, it seemed as if he was about to break down into tears. "I'm sorry!"
"You can be sorry all you want, but it's not going to bring him back." Ron glared hatefully at the older man. "You killed him! You didn't take care of him like you were supposed to, and now he's dead. You killed him! You killed my best friend!" Sirius didn't speak; he looked like he was trying desperately not to completely break down. When he gave no response, Ron grew even angrier and lost it all together. He forcefully shoved Sirius backwards against the stone wall and held him there as he spoke again. This time, though, instead of yelling, he spoke evenly. "You killed his parents, and now you've killed him."
This was all it took, as it was clearly too much for Sirius to handle. He looked at his godson's best friend for only another few seconds before breaking down into broken sobs and muttering apologies over and over again. Ron didn't even know who he was apologizing to anymore, and Sirius probably didn't, either. He appeared to have gone into a trance and was looking more pitiful than any convicted murderer ever should.
But Ron felt no pity.
He wanted to punch the other man. He wanted to pummel him and punch him until all the rage he was feeling was gone. He wanted Sirius to feel the same sort of pain that he was feeling, but he knew that this wasn't possible with merely a pair of fists. And anyway, Sirius seemed to be suffering enough as he looked aimlessly at the ground and cried, murmuring apologies over and over again.
Ron let go of him just as the door to the office opened and the entourage of people inside came into the hallway. Hermione was between his mother and Professor McGonagall; she seemed to be having trouble standing. The headmaster quickly walked over to the two men and placed a soothing hand on the older's shoulder, leading him back into the office. Ron watched them disappear before looking over to the three females.
No one spoke for a long moment until Professor McGonagall quietly said, "I've sent for Ginny. She should be here shortly."
Mrs. Weasley nodded weakly, and almost as if on cue, Ginny came hurrying down the corridor, her face wrought with nervousness. When she saw the scene before her, she halted abruptly and looked questioningly around at all the present people. Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath and glanced at the professor before leaving Hermione briefly and going to her only daughter. She gently took the younger girl's arm and led her around the corner for some privacy. Obviously, Ginny didn't know what had happened, yet.
As the Transfiguration professor stood with two of her Seventh Years, she looked from one to the other and took in the awkwardness between them. She felt extremely bad for both of them, but she didn't know how to deal with the situation any better than either of them did. Never in a million years had she ever expected Mr. Potter to actually get killed.
He was supposed to be the Hero.
A loud gasp was followed by heavy crying from somewhere around the corner. Obviously, the youngest Weasley had just been given the news that was sure to rock the entire school, not to mention the whole wizarding world in its entirety.
And the two people who would probably be the most affected by the news stood silently, not even daring to look at each other.
A few minutes later, Mrs. Weasley returned with a now quietly crying Ginny who was looking desperately at her older brother for some sort of response, which he was quite unwilling to give. After a few last-minute converses with Professor McGonagall, Mrs. Weasley, looking worn and terribly upset, quietly took the three teenagers home.
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This isn't the end. In fact, it's just the beginning (obviously!). I have a lot planned out for this story, and I hope that you guys want to read more. If you do, please leave feedback, and I will post the next chapter soon!
Thanks in advance! (
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone depicted in this story (at least not at the moment). They all belong to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, WB, and a whole lot of other people that I don't have time to type out.
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Ron Weasley sat in his normal spot at the back of Professor Trelanwey's classroom. The seventh year student had sat at the same table for four years; in fact, the whole class looked much the same as it had in third year with only a few differences. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown still occupied the front table, and besides the years added onto their age, both girls looked just as giddy and interested in Divination as they had when they were thirteen. Ron's roommates, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom, still looked just as amused by Professor Trelawney as they had four years before. Professor Trelawney herself was still prancing around in her horn-rimmed glasses predicting despair and misery for everyone and praising Parvati and Lavender immensely. The only real difference between the make up of the class on that day and the make up of the class on the first day of third year was the obvious absence of two of its students.
Ron's own best friends, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.
Hermione had been absent from the Divination picture for quite sometime- since maybe half-way through the third year. She'd stormed out in a huff after a row with Trelawney about the reality of the "art" and had dropped the class immediately.
But Harry had stuck with Divination right along with Ron. They'd sat at the back table together up until two months ago when Harry had been snuck out of school and placed into hiding. No one, except the headmaster of their school, Albus Dumbledore, knew the whereabouts of this hideout. Ron only knew that Harry had been taken in the middle of the night one evening and placed into hiding with his godfather, convicted murderer Sirius Black. Harry hadn't known it beforehand, and Ron hadn't known until he'd woken up to find Harry's bed empty and his cubby bare. It was bad enough that Harry wasn't there, but what made the situation even worse was the fact that there were strict and absolute restrictions against any and all communication with him. No owls were to be exchanged at all, and Ron hadn't heard anything from Harry in two long months.
"Mr. Weasley," Trelawney's irritating whisper cut through Ron's thoughts, "what do you see in your leaves?"
Ron glanced down at his teacup and furrowed his brow. Four years of tea leaf reading, and his inner-eye still only showed him a pile of leftovers.
Not even bothering to make up a prediction, he shrugged. "A pile of soggy, brown mush."
Dean, Seamus, and Neville snickered loudly, and Ron glimpsed the girls turning around to roll their eyes at him. Professor Trelawney, however, was far from amused. She instantly reached down and picked Ron's teacup up for her own evaluation.
An overly-dramatic frown covered her face, and she closed her eyes, obviously against the horrors that the cup held.
"What?" Ron snapped, not at all in the mood to have his murder predicted.
Trelawney shook her head and opened her eyes to look sympathetically at him. "You will be receiving terrible news very soon."
The other guys laughed when Ron sighed loudly and rolled his eyes.
The teacher, though, ignored them and finished her prediction. "news about young Mr. Potter."
The laughter instantly stopped as all the other Gryffindors looked around warily at Ron for his reaction. The topic of Harry was very much avoided in the Gryffindor Common Room. No one really wanted to talk about him because everyone had their own personal fears about the situation. And if anyone did talk about it, they knew better than to do so in front of Ron or Hermione. Ron had walked into his dormitory on more than one occasion to find his roommates instantly splitting up and silencing themselves upon his appearance.
And as Trelawney dared to make one of her stupid predictions about Harry at a time when he actually was in real danger, Ron found himself having to force himself not to reach for his wand and hex her. He couldn't quite believe she had the audacity to take the situation so lightly.
Knowing that if he looked at the awful woman for a moment longer, he would definitely do something he would later regret, Ron took a deep breath and silently gathered up his books. Then, calmly swinging his bag over his shoulder, he walked wordlessly to the trap door and opened it. He heard the teacher demand that he take his seat, but he ignored her and climbed the ladder down to the level below the Divination classroom. He wasn't sure where he was going, so he simply started walking aimlessly through the corridors.
About ten minutes later, Ron heard the sharp voice of the Transfiguration professor behind him. "Mr. Weasley!" Ron stopped instantly and turned around to face Professor McGonagall guiltily. "Why aren't you in class?"
Ron glanced at the floor, quickly trying to think up an excuse that sounded better than, "I walked out of Divination because Trelawney pissed me off." The best he came up with was, "Uh."
To his surprise, though, she didn't launch into a huge chewing out. She looked quite worn down, actually, as if she was simply too tired to discipline him. Instead, she almost regretfully said, "You need to go to the Headmaster."
Ron was shocked. He didn't think that skipping half of a class was enough to warrant a trip to the Headmaster's office. He'd done things much worse in his seven years at Hogwarts that hadn't resulted in an appointment with Dumbledore.
He tried to plead his case. "But. I just."
Professor McGonagall interrupted him with a shake of the head. "Just follow me, Mr. Weasley."
She didn't wait for a reply. She turned in the direction of the headmaster's office, and Ron reluctantly followed her. He took notice of the fact that she purposely walked a few steps ahead of him, and Ron had some unknown suspicion that she was doing this in order to avoid looking at him.
He went over various excuses that he could give Dumbledore about his whereabouts when McGonagall had caught him wandering the corridors during school hours. He was sure that no amount of sympathy was going to get him out of trouble with his parents if they received an owl about their youngest son walking out of a lesson. He thought back to when Hermione had done the exact same thing in third year. She hadn't gotten into any trouble at all; he somehow didn't think this was quite fair.
His thoughts about Hermione were interrupted, though, as he followed Professor McGonagall into Dumbledore's office and saw her sitting in one of the plush chairs across the room. Hermione looked up when he entered, and he noticed that she was looking just as confused as he felt.
Ron wracked his brain trying to think of anything they'd done recently that could have landed them in Dumbledore's office, but nothing came to mind. Since Harry had been gone, they really hadn't done much of anything except study and play the occasional game of chess to distract themselves from the fact that they weren't sleeping as well as they should have been. They'd snuck back to the dormitory after curfew a few nights ago because they'd managed to lose track of time while Hermione was tutoring him on Shrinking Charms in the library. But she was Head Girl, and she had special privileges that other students didn't have; being in the library after hours was surely one of them.
There was something in the way that Professor McGonagall simply crossed the room and stood in the corner, quite obviously avoiding both of her students, that told Ron that this wasn't simply a scolding about rule- breaking. Professor Dumbledore was sitting at his desk silently, his face solemn and grave in a way that didn't help to ease the tension of the room. He looked up when Ron walked in and addressed him quietly.
"Mr. Weasley, please sit down."
Ron looked on curiously, but he followed the directions and sat down in the maroon chair beside Hermione. "Are we in trouble?" He glanced at his female best friend who raised her eyebrows in question.
Dumbledore sighed quietly and shook his head. "No. There's just something we need to tell you. You need to hear it from us before you hear it elsewhere."
Ron didn't really like the sound of that, and apparently neither did Hermione because she spoke up at that time. "Well, if you don't mind, Sir, I'd better get back to Arithmancy. We were in the middle of a very important lesson, and I've already missed quite a bit." Ron could tell by the nervous tone of her voice that she didn't want to hear whatever they had to say because she was scared.
"I'm sorry, Miss Granger," Professor Dumbledore answered timidly, "but this is very important."
Hermione twisted anxiously in her sat and looked down at the floor. Ron watched her as she tried desperately not to notice that Professor McGonagall kept wiping at her eyes. He was quite sure he didn't want to hear what the headmaster had to say, either.
There was a moment of what seemed like an eternity of silence before Dumbledore finally spoke again. His voice actually quivered as he said the next sentence. "This morning, there was an attack. And it involved Mr. Potter."
His words left a deafening silence ringing in the office until Hermione finally broke it. "Where's Harry now?" Her voice was strangely confident, as though she strongly believed that Harry was getting fixed up in the infirmary at that very moment by Madame Pomfrey.
Ron knew better. He knew what was coming next- he'd known from the moment he'd walked into the graveness of the office.
But he refused to believe it.
Staring straight ahead, Ron missed the sympathetic look that the Headmaster sent their way. He didn't see the old man's eyes brim with tears. He didn't notice that Professor McGonagall had her own eyes closed and her head bowed. And he didn't see Hermione pleading with her eyes for them to confirm her silly belief. But he did hear the words.
"Harry. Harry is dead."
These three words, four if the repetition was counted, would change their worlds forever. Ron didn't flinch at the news, and for a long, long moment, the only sound heard was the small, choked sob from Professor McGonagall. Suddenly, though, Hermione made a gagging noise and clutched her mouth quickly.
She was going to throw up.
All in an instance, the Transfiguration teacher had rushed to her side, and Professor Dumbledore had pressed the magical intercom button and was paging Madame Pomfrey.
Ron simply looked at her.
And then, out of nowhere, he spoke. "Leave her alone."
Professor McGonagall looked up sympathetically and sent a pitying look in his direction. But Ron wasn't having any of her pity.
Because the moment the words were spoken, he stopped believing them.
"Ron." Professor McGonagall spoke using his first name, a rarity she'd used only a few times over the years. She was clearly trying to "soothe his pain," but he didn't need any soothing.
Ignoring his teacher, he spoke directly to the girl on his left.
"Hermione, stop it." He sent her a sharp look, and she met his eye for only a second before whimpering softly and breaking down into shaking sobs.
Professor McGonagall immediately wrapped an arm around her, infuriating Ron. He jumped to his feet and heatedly addressed them. "Just leave her alone! She's fine!" He literally pushed his teacher out of the way and started commanding the younger woman. "Hermione, stop crying," he said sternly. "Just stop it!"
Hermione sent him a bewildered look, and Professor Dumbledore crossed the room, laying a comforting hand on Ron's arm. Ron, though, shrugged away and started yelling at the old man.
"Get away from me, you lying bastard!"
This really sent Hermione over the edge, and she broke down completely, She wrapped her hands into the hair at the sides of her face and tugged in frustration as she squeezed her eyes shut against the reality of the situation.
Ron was furious with her.
Completely ignoring the way both of his professors were looking warily at him, he started yelling at Hermione. "Would you just stop it?! Just stop crying!"
When she gave no sign of adhering to his commands, he literally took matters into his own hands and yanked her to her feet roughly. Gripping her shoulders tightly, he shook her. "They're lying! Do you hear me? Look at me!" Hermione opened her eyes and raised her head to look tearfully at him, what was very possibly fear showing in her brown eyes. Ron spoke to her sternly. "They're lying."
Hermione whimpered once more and shook her head slowly. "Ron."
Professor McGonagall made another move to comfort Hermione, but Ron yanked his friend away and glared at the teacher. "Don't you dare fucking touch her," he warned dangerously.
McGonagall bit her lower lip and turned slowly to the Headmaster who shook his head silently. Ron ignored them both and turned his attention back to Hermione.
"Don't you listen to them, you hear me?"
Hermione closed her eyes and tried desperately to calm her tears momentarily. Trying to reason with him, she quietly said, "Ron, please stop."
But Ron was outraged. Digging his fingertips even more deeply into her shoulders, he responded angrily. "No, you stop it! Stop crying, damn it!"
Hermione squirmed slightly, crying even more as she pleaded with him. "Ron, stop. Please! You're hurting me."
Ron instantly let go of her and took a step backwards. He wanted to apologize, but he couldn't bring himself to it. Instead, he just glared at her. "Harry is not dead," he said dryly. "And you know that, Hermione. You know he wouldn't just fucking die without even saying goodbye!"
She stared silently at him for a moment before finally losing it all together and completely breaking down. "Please," she begged quietly. "Please, don't do this."
Ron had never been angrier with her in his entire life.
How could she possibly believe that horrible bastard? How could he be so cruel as to lie about something as terrible as what he'd just said? And why was Hermione believing him? Didn't she know that Harry wouldn't do that to them? He wouldn't just up and get himself killed and leave them all alone! And Hermione should have known that.
Completely disgusted with her, he glared once more at her before turning and stalking out of the office wordlessly.
Hermione watched him go before covering her face with her hands and sliding silently down the wall and to the ground.
*****************************
Ron walked aimlessly down the corridor, anger and hurt coursing through his veins all the while. He couldn't and wouldn't believe anything that had just been said in that room. They were lying, and Hermione was just too damn gullible.
Harry wouldn't do that to them.
He just wouldn't. Harry knew better than to go and get himself killed, and Ron refused to believe any different. There's no way that he would just leave them like that with no warning whatsoever.
Ron didn't know where he was going, but he didn't care, either. All he knew was that he needed to get as far away from Dumbledore's office as possible. He was walking quickly and pointedly, though with no real destination. It wasn't until he spotted a flash of red hair that he slowed and took notice of his surroundings.
At first, he thought the figure was Ginny, but upon a second look, he realized that the redhead was, in fact, his mother. She was hurrying quickly toward him, her face pale and a worried expression covering her features. Ron stopped walking and simply waited for her to meet him. When she did, he suddenly felt strangely weak.
"Oh, Ron," she breathed quietly, reaching up to place an unsteady hand against his cheek. She was much shorter than him, but her presence was simply overpowering.
In a quivering voice that he didn't recognize as his own, he quietly spoke. "Mum, Dumbledore said." He couldn't force himself to say the words, but he knew his mother already understood. Desperately, he said, "But it's not true." After a small pause, he weakly said, "Is it?"
Mrs. Weasley bit down on her lower lip, and Ron could tell that she was about to burst into tears. With no verbal answer, she barely gave a nod as she looked up at him sympathetically. Quietly, she finally spoke. "I'm sorry."
Ron stared silently at her for a long, long moment. Then, with his lip quivering dangerously, he allowed himself to be pulled into his mother's consoling embrace. As she hugged him, he felt as if he'd suddenly decreased in age by a decade and was merely seven years old all over again. He wanted desperately to escape back to that time when he could simply crawl into his mother's lap and all worries and pains could be taken away with a simple kiss on his forehead.
He was vaguely aware of her hand smoothing down his unruly locks in the same fashioned habit that she'd had since he was a toddler. He knew that it was his mum and that it would be okay for him to break down in her arms. He knew he could cry to her and that he probably needed to.
But he didn't.
He couldn't really. There was something holding the tears back, and he couldn't force them to fall. Maybe he was in shock, but he didn't know. He couldn't really comprehend too much of anything at the moment. All he knew for sure was that his mother would never, ever lie to him.
Harry was dead.
Dead.
His best friend in the world was dead. And there was nothing he could do about it. He was helpless. What was done was done, and there was nothing to bring Harry back. He was dead, and Ron was forced to do nothing at all except deal with the words.
He felt his mother pull away reluctantly, and he saw her blue eyes look sadly up at him. She kept one hand on his shoulder as she questioned him. "Honey, where's Hermione?"
Hermione.
He'd hurt her. She'd said so herself. He'd been so mean to her, and Harry was dead. And he didn't know why. Why had he yelled at her? Why had he shaken her like he had?
Why was Harry dead?
Shaking his head slowly, he managed to make out a few comprehensible words. "I think she's. in Dumbledore's office."
Mrs. Weasley nodded slightly, reaching up to brush some of her youngest son's hair out of his face. "I'm going to take you both home, okay?"
Ron nodded unevenly, not really knowing what else to do. He couldn't think clearly, so he simply went along with everything his mother was saying.
She looked sadly at him once more before gently leading him back down the hall in the direction of the Headmaster's office. The door was still open, and they entered the office to see Professor Dumbledore conversing quietly with someone through the fire that Ron couldn't see and Professor McGonagall comforting a now sobbing Hermione.
Ron saw his best female friend and knew he should feel awful. But he couldn't.
He couldn't feel anything.
Professor McGonagall looked up when Mrs. Weasley and her son entered the office and looked meaningfully at the earlier of the two. The two women exchanged silent conversation through a few passed looks, but Ron was simply too evaded to even try and comprehend the meaning.
Mrs. Weasley crossed the room and gently took the crying girl into her arms as Professor McGonagall stood up and took a small step backwards. Ron stood back silently as he watched his mother whispering something to Hermione as the younger buried her face into the elder's shoulder and cried desperately, her whole body convulsing with the sobs that were escaping her throat.
It was the sight of Hermione crying so hard that finally forced Ron to look away. As he did, he caught sight of the head in the fireplace that was talking quietly with his headmaster.
It was Sirius Black.
He was surprised to see Sirius looking back at him silently. They looked at each other for a short moment before Sirius turned away and said something to Dumbledore that Ron couldn't hear. He saw the headmaster nod once, and then Sirius' head disappeared. Moments later, however, he appeared in the room with a quiet "Pop."
Obviously, it was acceptable to Apparate into Hogwarts under certain circumstances. Ironically, Hermione didn't even seem to notice that her favorite bit of quoting wasn't completely true.
Sirius crossed the room silently until he stood directly in front of Ron. Neither of them spoke for a minute until Sirius quietly instructed the younger man to follow him into the corridor.
Ron was hesitant, but he followed nonetheless. When they were in the privacy of the corridor away from a sobbing Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, and two bewildered professors, Ron noticed that Sirius' face was paler than normal and that his eyes were red in contrast. He'd been crying.
Sirius Black had been crying.
When he finally spoke, Sirius' voice was unsteady and uncertain. He didn't seem sure of what he wanted to say but rather seemed as if he was speaking because it was what was expected of him. "Ron. I'm sorry."
And all at once, something inside of Ron cleared, and he was finally able to see the whole picture and comprehend what was going on. Anger like he'd never felt before surfaced, and he glared at Harry's godfather. His voice was icy and scathing all at once as he spoke. "This is all your fault."
Sirius closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, he spoke in a reasoning voice. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry, my arse," Ron said angrily. "You fucking killed my best friend."
"Ron, I." He didn't get a chance to finish his explanation because Ron cut him off.
"You were supposed to be protecting him! That's what they told us. When Harry left, they said, 'Don't worry. Sirius will take care of him and make sure nothing happens.' You were supposed to protect him!" Ron was finally letting his emotions out, woe behold the receiver.
"There was nothing I could do," Sirius said desperately. He didn't raise his voice; instead, it seemed as if he was about to break down into tears. "I'm sorry!"
"You can be sorry all you want, but it's not going to bring him back." Ron glared hatefully at the older man. "You killed him! You didn't take care of him like you were supposed to, and now he's dead. You killed him! You killed my best friend!" Sirius didn't speak; he looked like he was trying desperately not to completely break down. When he gave no response, Ron grew even angrier and lost it all together. He forcefully shoved Sirius backwards against the stone wall and held him there as he spoke again. This time, though, instead of yelling, he spoke evenly. "You killed his parents, and now you've killed him."
This was all it took, as it was clearly too much for Sirius to handle. He looked at his godson's best friend for only another few seconds before breaking down into broken sobs and muttering apologies over and over again. Ron didn't even know who he was apologizing to anymore, and Sirius probably didn't, either. He appeared to have gone into a trance and was looking more pitiful than any convicted murderer ever should.
But Ron felt no pity.
He wanted to punch the other man. He wanted to pummel him and punch him until all the rage he was feeling was gone. He wanted Sirius to feel the same sort of pain that he was feeling, but he knew that this wasn't possible with merely a pair of fists. And anyway, Sirius seemed to be suffering enough as he looked aimlessly at the ground and cried, murmuring apologies over and over again.
Ron let go of him just as the door to the office opened and the entourage of people inside came into the hallway. Hermione was between his mother and Professor McGonagall; she seemed to be having trouble standing. The headmaster quickly walked over to the two men and placed a soothing hand on the older's shoulder, leading him back into the office. Ron watched them disappear before looking over to the three females.
No one spoke for a long moment until Professor McGonagall quietly said, "I've sent for Ginny. She should be here shortly."
Mrs. Weasley nodded weakly, and almost as if on cue, Ginny came hurrying down the corridor, her face wrought with nervousness. When she saw the scene before her, she halted abruptly and looked questioningly around at all the present people. Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath and glanced at the professor before leaving Hermione briefly and going to her only daughter. She gently took the younger girl's arm and led her around the corner for some privacy. Obviously, Ginny didn't know what had happened, yet.
As the Transfiguration professor stood with two of her Seventh Years, she looked from one to the other and took in the awkwardness between them. She felt extremely bad for both of them, but she didn't know how to deal with the situation any better than either of them did. Never in a million years had she ever expected Mr. Potter to actually get killed.
He was supposed to be the Hero.
A loud gasp was followed by heavy crying from somewhere around the corner. Obviously, the youngest Weasley had just been given the news that was sure to rock the entire school, not to mention the whole wizarding world in its entirety.
And the two people who would probably be the most affected by the news stood silently, not even daring to look at each other.
A few minutes later, Mrs. Weasley returned with a now quietly crying Ginny who was looking desperately at her older brother for some sort of response, which he was quite unwilling to give. After a few last-minute converses with Professor McGonagall, Mrs. Weasley, looking worn and terribly upset, quietly took the three teenagers home.
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This isn't the end. In fact, it's just the beginning (obviously!). I have a lot planned out for this story, and I hope that you guys want to read more. If you do, please leave feedback, and I will post the next chapter soon!
Thanks in advance! (