My Sister's Keeper
By Celestra (Les-chan)
Author's Notes: Hey you guys! This will probably be my fastest update since DigiPoke – MSTed! I really am quite proud of this fic and I do know what the majority of what is going to be written. Most of the major stuff in any case. I'm dedicated to finishing this and if you know me, you know I'm the slowest updater on Earth. Some of my fics haven't been updated in a year! That's why I want to finish this, because I like it a lot! Ramblings aside, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as well! Happy New Year!
To the readers: First, to Moonie2, you were my first reviewer, THANK YOU SO MUCH! I feel so special because of your threats of me to continue! Secondly, to Aurumlupi, thank you as well! You caught the little thing I left – how I left it off before Ginny could explain her evidence! Basically, I did it to get you to read, but rest assured, it's all revealed in this chapter! Believe me, it's all planned out! Thanks, also, to Carey ^^ Anyways, You guys are fab!
Disclaimer: Disclaimers are stupid, and it's elongating my author notes. I don't own any of the characters here (darn!) except for Christopher Weasley. You can use him as long as you ask me first. Can't see why you'd want him anyhow . . . So, I don't own anything by JK Rowling, but I do own this story. Don't steal it, please.
And now for chapter two!
Warnings: There is abuse in this chapter. Leave now if you don't wish to witness! As well, there is some language. This is PG13 for a reason you know!
Chapter Two
Facts and Confirmation
"Ron, I think Uncle Chris is abusive."
Ron's eyes grew wide. Very wide. He looked as though he were about to say something but seemed to think better of it. Finally, he turned to look at Ginny right in the eye.
"Ginny," he began in a placating tone, "I think the heat has gotten to you. Why don't you go lie down?"
Ginny stared at him. "You don't believe me, do you?" she asked in a whisper, her lower lip trembling. "You think I'm joking, or delirious, or lying, but you don't think I'm telling the truth, do you?"
Ron was looking at her uncomfortably. Christopher Weasley couldn't be abusive. How could he be?
"Ginny . . ." he began again. Ginny was looking as though she were about to cry. She didn't, however, and continued to look at Ron.
Ron was feeling uncomfortable again. He cared about his sister deeply, but what was he supposed to do? He bent down to her height, staring her in the eyes. "Ginny, Uncle Chris isn't abusive. He can't be abusive."
"He is," she protested.
"Ginny, look at it the way I see it. We haven't seen him in ten years. The last time we saw him, I was four, and you were three. There aren't a lot of things I remember about him, and, Hell, I'm surprised you even remember who he is!" He smiled, though it wasn't as wide as usual. Abuse was a serious subject, and he couldn't figure out for the life of him why Ginny would say something like that about her own relative. "Why don't I get you a drink or somewhat and we can play Exploding Snap or something?" He turned to go down to the kitchen.
He was halfway down the stairs before Ginny's shout stopped him.
"Ron, the last time you saw him was ten years ago."
Ron stopped dead in his tracks. His face was considerably pale and his eyes were stony. "What do you mean by that?" he whispered. He turned and walked back up the stairs.
"What I mean, Ron, is the last time you saw him was ten years ago. I've seen him a lot after that."
"When?! Wouldn't I have seen him too?" Ron demanded.
"No, Ron. The last time I saw him was in your first year at Hogwarts, the year I was finally without anyone to keep me company."
"What? You mean that the one time I was gone, he was here?"
"Exactly."
"That doesn't prove anything, you know." Ron protested.
"Let me finish," Ginny said impatiently, waving a hand. "It was about a month after you guys left for Hogwarts. Mum decided that I needed someone else to talk to so they invited Uncle Chris to spend Halloween with us. Mum and Dad were going to go to the Annual Ministry of Magic Halloween Fund's Ball and Chris would stay with me." Here Ginny stopped.
"Go on," Ron prompted, poking Ginny.
Ginny took a deep breath, her mahogany irises looking at Ron. "He didn't really want to stay. It's like he developed a fear of wizards and witches; he hates magical people. It's like in the medieval times. I think the only reason he stayed is because of Dad. Since the reason he had to stay was because of me, he . . ."
"What did he do?" Ron asked, his blue-green eyes narrowing.
"He kept . . . he kept threatening me. Telling me I was something that never should have happened. Something that didn't deserve to live. He only did it when Mum and Dad weren't around, of course, and he told me that if I ever told he would . . ." She trailed off.
"The bastard," Ron hissed. His attitude had changed completely. A Weasley or not, nobody had the right to threaten to hurt his sister, no less carry out the threat. Nobody.
Ginny continued, "So, when Mum and Dad finally left, he left me against their wishes. He came back much later, and he had been drinking."
Ron was dreading what Ginny may say next. He found his arms drawing her close to him for comfort. She nestled inside his arms, shaking a little.
"He was quite drunk, you know, but he knew what he was doing. He was about to . . . about to strike me before he went unconscious. Strong alcohol he had, I reckon." She squirmed in Ron's arms. "I don't want him to continue from where he left off . . ." she whispered, trembling.
Ron hissed quietly. Where did Chris get off thinking he could hurt his little sister? His little sister! He looked the trembling Ginny in his arms. This was the girl who had been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort in her very first year. This was the girl who had barely survived the ending encounter where fully-grown wizards would've crumpled almost immediately at the beginning. This was the girl who was now shaking in his arms, frightened because someone she had thought was family, wanted to hurt her, just because she was what nearly everyone in her family was. It made him sick. It revolted him. Who would want to hurt Ginny?
Unconsciously, his arms tightened around her. He rocked her back and forth with her in his lap as tears began to trickle down her cheeks. "Please, Ron, don't let him hurt me! I swear I never meant to make him angry with me!"
Ron looked up sharply. "You're afraid I think you made him angry?!" He looked her in the eye, a very serious expression on his face. "Ginny, I wouldn't care if you made him angry! I know you didn't, but even if you had, nothing gives him the right to threaten you! And absolutely, positively nothing gives him the right to hurt you!"
Ginny was crying. "So you believe me?" she sobbed.
"Yes, yes, of course," Ron said, trying to soothe her. "I promise I won't let him to anything to you if I can help it! You're my little sister. Do you remember that time when you were three and you fell and hurt your arm? I promised that if I were around, you wouldn't get hurt! I've always intended to keep that promise, Ginny, even if it didn't seem so. Always."
Ginny calmed down a little, more composed in that moment where Ron had taken her in his arms than she had been ever since she had first heard just who she would be spending her summer holidays with.
Ron was still sitting on the bed, with Ginny in his lap, his arms entwined around her small, lithe form as though to protect her and ward off danger. They both sat like this for a good few minutes before Ginny jolted up with a gasp.
"Ginny? What is it?" Ron asked worriedly, fearful that Chris decided to come home early.
"Dinner! We have to make his dinner!"
"Oh, shit. We have to cook for that bastard too?" He glanced at Ginny. "Sorry about the language, Ginny. It's just, what you told me makes me want to-" He made a violent gesture in mid-air. Ginny grinned weakly.
"That's alright. But . . ." Her grin faded. "What do you think he'll do to us if we don't have dinner ready?"
"Personally, Ginny, I'd rather not think about that. Let's see here . . ." He trailed off, looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully, his brow furrowed.
"Do you know how to cook, Ron?" Ginny asked.
"Er, I was kind of hoping you knew how . . . I thought you did, as you're a girl and all . . ."
"Oh, great. We have to make dinner for Chris and neither of us know how to cook."
"Relax, we'll think of something."
"Hold on, how much time do we have left?" asked Ginny.
"Um, about two hours," Ron said, looking at his watch. "D'you think that'll be enough time?"
"Let's hope so," said Ginny, rolling up her sleeves as she went down to the kitchen. She moseyed around until she came to a shelf filled with cookbooks. Ron, who came down the stairs after Ginny, looked around the kitchen nervously. "Are you sure you should be poking around there?"
"Ron," Ginny said exasperatedly, "How are we going to cook supper without a cookbook?" She selected one titled "Classy Tastes With Simple Meals".
"Urgh," said Ron. "Can you think of a more cliché title?"
"I probably could if we had the time," grinned Ginny. She opened the cookbook, flipping through the pages looking for anything that looked promising. She skipped by a serious of pages involving casseroles, stews and steaks. She finally landed on a very hopeful looking pasta dish. She scanned the lines eagerly. Quickly, she checked the fridge and cupboards for the required materials, and luckily, quite a lot of them were there.
"Hmm," she said. "We don't have any Angel Hair pasta but we do have Tortellini. We also don't have any Cream of Mushroom soup, but-" She fished around in the cupboards again, "But we do have New England Clam Chowder! Ron, I'm quite sure we can make this! It's not hard at all!"
Ron leaned over, also scanning the pages. "Hmm . . . Boil water at 100 degrees for 10 minutes . . . Pour in the pasta and let it cook for 45 minutes . . . Simmer with two table spoons of the creamy sauce . . . Dribble desired amount of sauce when cooled . . . Add a sprig of parsley for a festive look. Right then, that's easy enough. Let's get to it!"
"But Ron, do you think he'll want it?"
"Of course! Come on, Ginny; let's make it already! I'll bet he'll be contented at the very least!"
"If you say so . . ."
The meal was indeed fairly simple to make and the only real problem was when Ginny accidentally spilled some of the sauce down her front. She cleaned herself up and set the table for the three of them and they still had about seven minutes before Chris was expected to show up. Both Ron and Ginny had broad smiles on their faces. They simply couldn't help being proud! They had cooked an entire meal and by the smell of it, it was going to taste wonderful! They were both in good moods and couldn't help but think that Chris would probably be so pleased he would even drop his stiff manner and maybe even be kind.
And although Ron and Ginny didn't know this, it was far too much to hope.
They heard a key grate in a lock and suddenly, the front door flew open as Christopher Weasley strode into the apartment. Ron could feel his happiness fading as he looked at the stony expression his uncle was currently wearing. He watched Chris put a brown paper bag down.
'Oh no . . .' Ron became sick with apprehension. 'Oh no . . . Please don't tell me . . .' But no, he was right. A brown bottlenose poked over the top of the bag. His fear was confirmed. His uncle had been out drinking. Oh, this could not possibly end well . . .
"What are you two staring at?"
Ron realized too late that both he and Ginny had been staring at him, transfixed. He could only hope that his uncle wouldn't be aggravated by it . . .
"Get the hell in there and start eating! I expect it will be getting cold." Chris spoke this last sentence in a sickly-sweet voice. It took Ron a few seconds to realize he was mocking them.
"C'mon, Ginny," he said, grasping her by the hand.
"Ron, he's not drunk! He's been drinking, but he's not drunk and if he does anything he'll be doing it on purpose!" Ginny whispered frantically when they arrived in the kitchen.
"I know," Ron whispered back. "Stay close to me, okay?"
Ginny nodded fearfully. "Oh, this is not good," she moaned quietly, wringing her hands.
Chris sauntered into the kitchen. Upon seeing the table's contents, he scowled angrily. "What the hell is this crap?!" he demanded furiously. Ginny winced at his harsh language, trying to shrink away and get closer to Ron. Chris noticed this and strode towards her furiously.
"You! You cooked this! Why would you cook pasta?! You know I like steak! Why the hell didn't you cook steak?! Can't you do anything right?!"
Ginny blinked, trying to muster up enough courage to answer. Chris seemed to think she was taking too long, for he leaped forward and grasped Ginny's right wrist.
"Ow!" she cried. "Please let go! That hurts!" She could hear Ron snarling beside her.
"Answer me!" Chris yelled, twisting savagely. "I don't know how to cook steak, Uncle Chris! I'm sorry! I didn't know!" Ginny cried.
"That's not good enough!"
Ginny tried to slump forward, her back was arched with the pain in her right wrist, but Chris wouldn't let her. She whimpered. Ron, however, had had enough.
"Stop it! I told her it would be fine for her to cook the pasta, so if you have a problem with it, take it up with me!" Ron shouted, leaping forward. He wrenched Ginny's wrist free from Chris's strong hand. Ginny fell to her knees and leaned with her back against the wall, holding her wrist close to her chest, gasping in pain. Ron was standing protectively in front of Ginny, facing Chris with a determined look in his eyes. Chris was staring at Ron, sizing him up.
"If you so much as touch my sister again, you will regret it," Ron hissed, his hazel-blue eyes boring into Chris's dark ones.
"What are you going to do about? You're just a teenager!" Chris snarled, pushing Ron back a bit. Ron didn't move, still glaring at Chris as though daring him to do it again. He had a sudden idea. "I'll curse you if you do!"
At this, Chris just threw back his head and laughed. "You can't do magic over the holidays or they'll expel you from that freak school of yours!" Seeing the mystified look on Ron's face, he added, "Oh, your mother filled me in on that delightful little detail." He dropped his unctuous tone. "I think it's you who will be having problems if you talk to me like that again. After all, I'm allowing freaks like you to stay in my apartment!" He smiled maliciously and began to advance on Ron.
'I don't like the way he's looking at me.' Ron thought. A wave of cold fear suddenly swept through Ron. Unconsciously, he moved a step back. Silently, he cursed himself. 'Don't show him you're afraid,' Ron told himself.
Suddenly, like a snake, a hand was lifted into the air and came crashing down upon Ron Weasley's life as he knew it. Chris was wearing a ring, and it sliced down his cheek with the blow. A very intense pain registered itself in Ron's brain before his mind could comprehend he had just been hit.
"Ron!" Ginny shrieked.
Ron raised a hand and put it to his cheek, tasting blood in his mouth, all the while still watching his uncle. Ron had been hit before, in fights, sometimes with some of the haughty rich boys who lived in his town and mocked his house and family, and the occasional scuffle with Malfoy, Crabbe or Goyle. But none of the blows had been like that. This was from someone who was supposed to be his family. And yet his blow had radiated coldness, pain, and hatred.
Suddenly, a blur of red ran in front of him, and Ginny was standing in front of him. "How DARE you hit my brother! He never even did anything to you!"
And somewhere, underneath all of Ron's numb disbelief, his mind said, 'Ginny never stands up for herself. But she's standing up for me now . . .'
Chris continued to advance, looking at the red-haired girl as she stood in front of her brother. Ron saw his face twisting in malice. 'Oh God . . . that look he's giving her . . . that's the same look he gave me before he . . . before he-' Ron's eyes widened in anxiety.
"Move, Ginny! He's going to hit you!" And not even bothering to wait for her reply, he threw himself at Ginny, his arms enveloping her frame as he heaved her out of the way.
But Ron's push was too powerful; they both tumbled straight into the table, Ginny un-hurt as Ron's left shoulder smashed into the table, sending waves of pain cascading down his arm. The table shuddered as though in a tremor and one of the pasta-laden plates (nicely decorated with a sprig of parsley resting on top) smashed on the floor, spilling Tortellini shells everywhere.
Chris let out a terrible roar (Ron and Ginny had half a mind to cover their ears) and charged towards them. Ginny, almost paper-white with terror, grasped Ron by the wrist, urging him to get up. Ron didn't need the urges of his sister; pushing her in front of him, both of them raced towards the stairs. They were almost halfway up before Chris shouted, "Oh no you don't!" and grabbed a hold of Ron's ankle, pulling him partly down the stairs and making both the Weasley children fall over like a pair of dominoes.
Ginny quickly scrambled to her feet as she heard Ron groan in pain. Chris was down near the bottom of the stairs, but he had a hold of Ron's ankle. Ron, to prevent himself from being dragged down the stairs, was lying on his front, his chest hitting the steps as his uncle tried to pull him down, his arms laced around one of the bars attached to the railing. Ron moaned again; his uncle was much stronger than he was and it was costing great effort to keep himself there, and yet, he couldn't deny it, he was slowing losing his grip and moving downwards.
"Ginny!" he gasped. "Go! Run into your room and hide or something! Go on; leave me! Don't let him get you too!"
"No, Ron, I can't leave you and just let him take you!" Ginny was panicking. 'Oh my Gosh, what am I going to do? I want to run and hide but I can't just leave Ron with Uncle Chris, not after all he's done for me! Oh . . .'
Wringing her hands, Ginny stumbled down the stairs, nearly falling. She reached Uncle Chris and began pummeling him with her fists, trying to make him loosen his grip on Ron's ankle enough to allow him to escape. It had absolutely no effect. Chris was a large man and she doubted he could tell she was punching him rather than tickling him. This made her feel very weak and helpless, and Chris was still trying to drag Ron down the stairs, almost without effort though Ron was still struggling.
Chris gave a particularly hard tug – Ron gave a strangled yell and began to slide down rapidly – and Ginny, in a state of panic, did the only thing she could think of – she leapt forward and bit Chris on the arm holding Ron's ankle, biting as hard as she possibly could. Chris shouted loudly and swore creatively, his grip on Ron slackening. Ron scrambled up and Ginny raced past Chris up the stairs, joining up with Ron who stumbled up the steps, massaging his aching ribs.
Ron didn't have long to brood on it, however, as Chris, yelling madly, started up the stairs, positively screaming at them about 'being wizard freaks'. Ron, in a state of worry about his sister, pushed her into his room.
"Stay in here, Ginny!"
Ginny did as she was told. Ron was starting to come in after her before Chris's thick arm pulled him sharply back.
"Ron!" Ginny shrieked.
Ron struggled in Chris's grasp, trying very hard not to look at Ginny, as he was sure she would be looking horror-struck.
"What's wrong with you?!" Ron snarled. "Why are you doing this to us? We've never done anything to you!"
"You want to know why I'm doing this?" Chris asked, leering at Ron unpleasantly. "It's because you're wizards. You do all that fancy magic, but let me tell you, there's nothing wonderful about it! It makes you a freak! Makes you un-respected to the famous people of the world! And then you and your family run around, keeping secrets and saying things you deem important and talking about your bloody ministry! It's bad enough I'm related to you, but the fact that your mother thinks that I can take care of that little brat (here he gestured to a flabbergasted Ginny still standing in the doorway) and three years later expects me to keep two of you filthy little poor mongrels of wizards for the summer! I won't have it! And I know what you call us, us perfectly normal people, you call us muggles or something and think we're the abnormal ones but look at you lot! You lot, with your robes and your cauldrons and your owls and those damn hats!"
Chris was breathing very heavily, looking at one Weasley child to another. Ron was beginning to understand – Christopher Weasley was very much like the medieval muggles – and even more so like Vernon, Petunia and Dudley Dursley. It was like having their very own Dursleys, though this thought was far from pleasing.
Ron was shaking in suppressed rage though Chris was still very tightly holding onto his arm. "You mean to tell me," Ron said, almost snarling, "That the reason you're doing this to us, though we never so much as lay a finger on you, is because we are what we are?! That's bloody barbaric! It's – it's uncivilized! What is WRONG with you?!"
Chris scowled, and this wasn't a pretty sight as Chris had a very ugly scowl. "That's it, Ron. And you know what? If you breathe so much as a word of this to your mother when she comes to see you tomorrow, you and your sister will sorely regret it."
For the first time since Chris's tirade, Ron glanced at Ginny. She was pale and shaking, still standing at the doorway, and at Chris's words, she gave a small whimper.
Chris tightened his grip on Ron's arm, putting his face so close to Ron's that he could taste the faint alcohol on his breath from before. His stomach turned.
Chris continued to speak. "There are a very large amount of painful things one human can do to another, you know," he said, smirking at the fear in Ginny's face. "And I daresay that if you speak to your mother about this, both of you will find out a great number of them."
He left this threat hanging in the air, sneering as Ron's jaw dropped open, as he comprehended that Chris was threatening them. And with that, Chris threw Ron into the wall, turned on his heel and walked back downstairs.
Ron slid down the wall, gasping in pain, clutching at his already aching ribs. "Bloody Hell," he whispered.
Ginny immediately went over to him, kneeling by him. "Ron! Ron, oh, Ron, are you all right, Ron? Ron!" she squealed.
"I'll be fine," Ron gasped. "Come on, let's get into the room, I want to sit on something soft . . ."
Ron heaved himself up, allowing Ginny to help support him as they trudged into Ron's room.
"Oh, Ron, I was so scared!" Ginny breathed, looking terrified.
"It's okay, Ginny, he's gone for now . . ." Ron said, more to himself as he spoke so quietly.
"Don't worry, Ginny, I'll protect y-" And suddenly, without warning, Ron collapsed on his bed.
*****************To Be Continued! *****************
Oh, that was a terribly evil cliffhanger, I know ^^ I'm actually fairly pleased with this chapter, as, of course, I hope you are! I'm sorry I didn't have update as soon as I thought I would, but I had the smallest case of writer's block imaginable, but as you can see, it was quickly fixed J
Just in case you were wondering, the reason Ron and Ginny refer to Chris as 'Uncle Chris' is because I'm not quite sure what you call your mom's second cousin and uncle seemed like my best bet! Another thing is there is no such cookbook as 'Classy Tastes With Simple Meals' (at least to my knowledge) so if you attempt to make the pasta recipe mentioned above and it doesn't work (or blows up in your face), it's not my fault! Try at your own risk only!
With that said, please leave me your review with what you thought of this chapter! (Constructive Criticism welcome, flames without a good reason will be the topic of "Losers with no life" discussion at my school the next day ^^ And just normal comments will be nice too ^^
Ja! *Celestra*
*Oh, and I'm terribly sorry about the Ron abuse! Please don't take it seriously as Ron is my favorite character! My friend Debbie once said (in response to writing about fictional characters) that you always torture your favorite character because . . . well, you just do! *