DISCLAIMER: I am not profiting from this story in any way, and only the plot is mine in the first place.
POST DATE: December 24, 2007
CHAPTER 3
Sitting next to her husband in one of the purple, plush chairs that adorned the waiting room of St. Mungo's hospital for magical maladies and injuries, Mrs. Weasley nervously wrung her fingers tightly while glancing at the lone entry point for the thirty-fifth time in the past twenty minutes. 'What could be taking so long?' she thought to herself, hunching forward and beginning to rock back and forth slightly. "Something's not right, Arthur," she muttered grimly. "I know it. Something's happened to my baby, and I have to find out what it is!" Finishing this last statement, she began to rise from her chair, intent on marching through the entire hospital, if necessary, in order to find her son.
Seeing his wife's disposition taking a drastic downward spiral, Mr. Weasley ordered, "Sit down, Molly," using a strong, non-objectionable tone of voice he only reserved for moments where his wife was obviously not in the correct state of mind to be making her own decisions. Though he loved his wife dearly, and 90 of the time was more than willing to let her run affairs as she saw fit, he also knew that, on occasion, even Molly Weasley needed to be put in her place.
Having watched her retake her seat, he reached his left arm over her shoulders and pulled her in close to him while rhythmically stroking her hair. "Dear, it's barely been twenty minutes. I doubt they've even had enough time to give Ron a thorough examination, much less come up with any kind of diagnosis," he said, adopting his most soothing of tones. Instantly, some of the edge was removed from Mrs. Weasley's nervousness. "Give them time; I'm sure they'll be along as soon as they know anything," he concluded.
"Oh, Arthur, I know they're only doing their best. But…but what if something really is wrong? I know they said that he suffered no lasting damage from what happened at the Department of Mysteries, but what if they missed something? And, oh Merlin, what if it's too late to do anything about it now?" As she finished, her voice became more and more panicked.
Continuing to stroke her hair, Mr. Weasley calmly stated, "Relax, Molly, it's not that serious. Remember what the nurse said when we brought him in. His vital signs are all well within normal range, and he was breathingjust fine. And remember, Healer Alberts is in there with him right now, and we both know he did a great job with Ron a few weeks ago." Removing his arm and grabbing her by both shoulders, he turned his wife so that she was facing him directly, and looked deeply into her eyes. "Our son is fine, Molly. He's just fine. In fact, I'd wager he won't even have to stay here overnight."
Taking some comfort in her husband's strength, Mrs. Weasley fell from her husband's grip and sank back into her chair and said, "God, I hope so, Arthur. I hope so." Following this plea, both parents lapsed into silence, gripping each other's hands tightly for support.
Three terribly long minutes later, the door to the waiting room began to open, causing Mrs. Weasley to shoot from her chair and charge forward, prepared to beat answers from whoever was entering if necessary. Just as she was about to unleash her attack, however, all the air seemed to be let out of her by the sight standing before her. "Bill?" she asked quietly.
Looking from his mother to his father, who had now risen from his chair also and was standing beside his wife, Bill Weasley finally asked, "Mum, Dad, if it's not too troubling, would one of you mind explaining to me WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON? 'Cause all I know is that I went to the house intent on catching the last bit of dinner, only to find kitchen chairs knocked over, Fred and George white as sheets and refusing to talk to me, Hermione muttering, 'He's gone, he's gone' over and over again, and Ginny crying so hard that I was barely able to get anything out of her other than 'Mum, Dad, Ron…St. Mungo's'. When I got here, the nurse at the front desk would only tell me that Ron had been checked in and that you two were in here." Finished, he looked from parent to parent, his eyes demanding an answer.
Seeing the look of concern on her son's face, Mrs. Weasley let out a loud wail before launching herself at him, wrapping him up in a tight bear hug. Looking over her shoulder, Bill made eye contact with his father, who calmly said, "Calm down, son, everything's alright. Something…odd happened at dinner, and Ron appears to have fainted for some reason. The doctor's are looking after him now, and we're just waiting to hear from them. Hopefully, it won't be much longer." Looking at his son, he could see that this statement had raised more questions than answers. 'Ever the inquisitive one, our Bill,' he thought to himself.
Finally detaching himself from his mother's vice-like grip, Bill quirked an eyebrow and asked, "What happened? Odd, I mean."
Looking from his son to his wife, who had a confused look on her face at the question herself, he replied, "Well, we don't rightly know, to tell the truth." Deciding that this was not the place to be discussing such things, he finished by saying, "We can talk about that more when we get home. Are the children and the house alright?"
Understanding his father's wish to change the subject, Bill followed along and said, "Oh, yeah, I calmed things down a bit before I left. Ginny and Hermione both seemed to get a little better when I promised to floo them both and tell them of any information I find out. Fred and George…well, they both just went up to their old room; they didn't even say a word between them. To tell you the truth Dad, I don't think I've ever seen either of them so quiet before. They barely even acknowledged that anyone else was in the room with them." He shook his head in bewilderment as he concluded.
"Yes, well…they were probably just shocked like everyone else to see their brother pass out like that," Mr. Weasley said, hoping that his lie sounded at least somewhat honest. He could see the look of disbelief in his son's eyes, but was thankful when he pressed no further.
Before the following silence between the three Weasley's could become uncomfortable, the door to the waiting room opened and in stepped a man that was approximately the same age as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, possessing medium height and built, with a head full of dark brown hair, streaked generously with gray. "Arthur and Molly?" he asked. "Ah, here you are," he said while taking on a bright, worry-free smile.
"Healer Alberts!" Mrs. Weasley cried out as she near knocked her son to the floor while rushing to the hospital employee. "Oh, please tell me everything's alright? My Ronnie, is he…well…I mean...," she stuttered, finding it impossible to ask the question she needed answered the most.
Continuing to smile his winning smile, he reached out and patted her shoulder lightly then said, "Relax, relax Molly, he's fine. In fact, he's awake now, and I'll take the two of you to see him as soon as I've discussed my diagnosis with you." Finishing, he looked questioningly at the fourth, much younger party in the room.
"Oh, that's our son Bill. He's a curse-breaker for Gringotts, and he just stopped in to find out what's happened," Mr. Weasley stated, patting his son on the back reassuringly.
"Very well then. Arthur, Molly, to put it simply, your son suffered a stress related trauma that caused him lose consciousness." Seeing the questioning looks on their faces, he continued. "See, sometimes, when a great deal of physical or mental stress is applied to a person in a very short period of time, their body will react to preserve itself by shutting down all major functions, keeping active only those functions necessary for continued survival, like breathing, for instance. This appears to be the cause of your son's episode earlier today."
Tentatively, Molly asked, "So, it's nothing serious?"
"Oh, I wouldn't say that. It can actually be very serious if the person in question continues to subject themselves to such stress. But, in this case, I don't see there being any lasting harm. In fact, unless he shows any negative signs within the next two hours, I see no reason to keep him here overnight."
Hurling herself at her husband, Mrs. Weasley cried out, "Oh Arthur!" before breaking down into a steady course of sobs. Looking over his wife's shoulder, Mr. Weasley said, "Thank you, Healer Alberts. Once again, I feel like we owe you a debt."
"Now, now, that's entirely unnecessary. I would like to know, though, what he was doing that caused this whole mess?" the healer questioned.
Not knowing what to say, but definitely sure that he was not going to recount what he had seen at the dinner table, Mr. Weasley finally said, "Oh, well, we've been having him work on re-siding our garage as a punishment for his activities earlier this summer. I guess he worked a little too long in the heat."
Looking slightly suspicious, the healer nonetheless replied, "Well, he should avoid that in the future. There've been some record temperatures the last few days, and they can't be good for the boy. Now, if the two of you would come with me, I'll take you to see your son. Oh, I'm sorry sir, but I'll have to ask that only his parents see him right now," he said while glancing over to Bill.
Nodding his head in understanding, Bill said, "That's alright, I need to floo back to The Burrow and relay the good news anyway, before Ginny loses her patience and comes storming in here looking for answers. Thanks, Healer Alberts." With that, all four left the room, Bill heading left while Healer Alberts and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley headed right.
After a short walk, the three came to a stop in front of a rather mundane looking room, Healer Alberts motioning for the parents to wait. "Now, before we enter, I wanted to go over something with the two of you in private." Noticing the worried look on Mrs. Weasley's face, he chuckled lightly before saying, "Relax, Molly, it's nothing bad. In fact, if my suspicions are correct, I actually think it is a fairly good thing. Definitely original, in any case.
"Now, when we were bringing Ron out of his unconscious state, everything seemed to be going quite normally; however, once he had regained consciousness, the nurses and I noticed something quite abnormal, which leads me to ask the both of you a question: have either of you ever noticed any…metamorphmagus tendencies in your son?"
Of all the questions he could have asked, that one in particular was about the last that either parent could have suspected. So blown away was Mr. Weasley, that it took him a full minute before he could finally choke out, "Excuse me?" Mrs. Weasley merely looked confused, as though she couldn't quite understand what the healer was saying.
"Yes, well, see, when a metamorphmagus sleeps, they retain whatever changes to their body that they have made, as they have retained some level of consciousness, no matter how small. However, when something happens to make them unconscious, they lose their ability to control whatever part of themselves they are altering, causing it to revert to its original state. This has occurred with your son."
"What do you mean? What's changed?" asked Mrs. Weasley frantically, finally coming out of her trance.
Raising his hands defensively, the healer quickly stated, "No need to worry, Molly, your son's suffered no harm. Rather than explain it to you, however, why don't I simply show you instead." Seeing the two nod cautiously, he then turned the handle on the room door and led them inside.
Her eyes immediately coming to rest on the young man lying in the hospital bed, Mrs. Weasley shouted out, "MY BABY!!!" while sprinting to the bed and enveloping her youngest son in the tightest of hugs.
After a few moments, seeing the pleading look from the boy over his mother's shoulder, Healer Alberts grinned and said, "Erm, Molly, perhaps you should hold off on such…exuberant behavior, at least for now."
Pulling back as though she were clutching someone on fire, Mrs. Weasley began smoothing her son's hair and clothes while quickly muttering, "Oh my! Of course, what was I thinking! I was just so worried."
Coming to his wife's side, Arthur put an arm around her waist while saying, "Well, no need for alarm now, Dear. Obviously, he's in good health. How are you feeling, son?"
His face coloring slightly, Ron looked down at his bed and answered quietly, "Honestly? Rather embarrassed at the moment. I hope I haven't caused you any trouble?" Finishing his question, he ventured a look at his father from the corner of his eyes.
"Nonsense!" cried out Mrs. Weasley. "You've been no trouble whatsoever. The only thing that's important now is that we get you home and get you feeling better!"
"Ehm, ehm."
Hearing the healer's interruption, Mr. Weasley suddenly remembered their conversation in the hall. "Son, the healer was just explaining that he needed to run a few tests while we were here, to explain a few things. Is that alright with you?"
Looking confusedly at his father, then at the healer, Ron replied, "Yeah, I don't see why not. What's the matter?"
"Oh, nothing at all, my boy, nothing at all. I just wanted to show your parents something that we noticed while reviving you. Now, if you don't mind, I'll need you to remove the upper portion of your hospital robes."
His cheeks coloring slightly, Ron glanced at his mother then said quietly, "Do I have to?"
Patting his son on the back, Mr. Weasley said, "Of course not, son, but it could help us understand what's happened today."
Seeing that all three adults very much wanted this, Ron huffed slightly before grabbing the hem of his robes, and pulling them over his head, exposing his chest.
Looking at Ron for a moment, the healer calmly stated, "Now Ron, I'm going to use a spell on you that will once more make you unconscious, but in a very controlled manner. The spell is similar to the stupefy spell, but without all the punch, if you catch my drift." Seeing the boy's nod of compliance, the healer reached inside his robes and brought out his wand, aimed at the boy and said 'Profundus Quiesco!'" Instantly the boy collapsed back into his bed.
After a few moments, Mrs. Weasley suddenly gasped. "Oh my! How is that possible?"
Seeing the look of confusion on Mr. Weasley's face, the healer said, "I think, Arthur, that she is referring to the change in your son's chest."
Looking at his son, Mr. Weasley was shocked to see the deep, knarled scar tissue covering Ron's chest and arms. Finally feeling able to speak, he sputtered out, "B-but, I could have sworn just moments ago that his…that he…where did all that come from?"
Looking to the two adults, Healer Alberts swept his hand in the direction of Ron's chest and said, "This is the condition your son was in upon arrival at the hospital, a condition I fully expected, considering the nature of the attack upon him. As I said before, you must expect that some damage will be permanent to his skin in these areas, so deep was the scaring. However, as soon as we brought him back to consciousness, young Ron's chest reverted to the condition you all saw a few minutes ago."
Gasping, Mrs. Weasley interrupted, "I've seen him with his shirt off earlier this week, too. In the heat of the day, he takes it off to work on the garage, and I'm almost certain that he had no marks on his chest then, either. I just didn't pay enough attention to notice."
Nodding his understanding, the healer continued, "To prove my point, observe." With that, he pointed his wand at the young man once again and said, "Evanesco!" Immediately, the scars and cuts vanished, replaced by smooth, unblemished skin. Shortly after, Ron's eyes opened.
"Would one of you mind letting me in on the secret now?" he asked in an annoyed voice.
Looking to his parents and receiving a nod of compliance, Healer Alberts explained to Ron that which he had told his parents only moments before. Upon finishing his recount of events, the healer stood back and waited patiently for the boy's reply.
With a look of incredulity deeply etched into his face, Ron finally responded. "You're joking, right? What, did Fred and George get to you somehow? Are you trying to tell me that I'm a metamorphmagus? You must be bloody insane!"
Instantly, Mrs. Weasley lashed out, "Ronald! Language!"
Ducking his head down momentarily from his scolding, Ron finally said, "Sorry Mum, but you heard him. He's got to have a few screws loose upstairs, if you catch my drift. I'm no metamorphmagus!"
Smiling and chuckling lightly, the healer interrupted, "Well, Ron, I don't know about my sanity, but I've got a nurse and two parents to back up my story. Now, we haven't confirmed your status as anything, yet, so don't go getting any hopes up. I've already taken a few blood samples from you, which I'll be using to test for any abnormalities. That should only take two or three days. Until then, all I can tell you is that, well, there's nothing concrete to tell. If you do turn out, however, to possess the metamorphmagus ability, I would suggest getting in contact with a more experienced metamorph so that you can learn better the extent of your abilities. I will tell you, though, that I've never seen such strong use of ability naturally. Normally, a metamorph can maybe accidentally change their eye color, maybe a few strands of hair, but to completely alter your entire upper body, well, that's fairly strong for unintentional use.
"Now, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you two," nodding at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, "to come with me, so that we can finish observing your son. Like I said, if there's no change after a few hours, he'll be on his way home tonight." Finishing his statement, he led the other two adults from the room, leaving one extremely confused young man alone to ponder his thoughts.
Two and a half hours later, after displaying no changes to his physical state, Ron was discharged from the magical hospital and sent home with his parents. During his wait in the hospital bed, he attempted several times, all of them unsuccessful, to change some aspect of his physical appearance. Finally growing frustrated with his failures, he threw himself back against his bed in a huff, deciding that it was all just some big mistake. Someone like him would never have such an important ability.
Reaching the hospital floo, he watched on as the healer shook hands with his mother and father one last time and reassured them that he was fine, and that the events that brought him to the hospital in the first place would leave no lasting effects. Then, at his mother's urging, he pinched out a bit of powder from the jar on the mantle, threw it at the flames, stepped in and in a clear voice stated, "The Burrow!" Immediately, he felt a twisting motion in his body.
Shortly after, he was thrown from the fireplace, flailing his arms wildly as his balance failed him. Rather than get better, however, he became more unbalanced, remaining standing by the nearest of threads, as a weight seemed to be suddenly hanging from his neck.
From beside his head, he heard an emotion-filled voice choke out, "Don't you ever do that to me again, Ronald Weasley! DON'T YOU EVER!" Barely, he recognized this voice as Hermione's.
"Can't…breath…choking…!" he sputtered, as the arms wrapped around his neck tightened.
Pulling herself away from him quickly, Hermione stepped back and blushed prettily as she stared at the floor and responded, "Well it's…it's good to see you're alright, then."
Slightly embarrassed himself, Ron had no time to think about what had just happened, as Ginny flew to him and enveloped him in yet another bone crushing hug. "Leave it to you, Ron, to worry the lot of us for nothing." Though she attempted to sound jovial, the hitch in her voice was not missed by anybody in the room. Becoming more quiet, she stepped back and looked up at her brother and said, "I'm glad your alright, big brother."
Smiling back, Ron patted her gently on the shoulder in an attempt to show her that he wasn't going anywhere, when he felt a hand swat his back several times. Looking to his left, he saw a grinning Bill. "Bill, what're you doing here?"
"Oh, you know, heard something about one of my brothers fainting like a little girl, so I figured I'd come see what the problem was." Seeing Ron's scowl, he pulled his brother into a manly hug and whispered to him, "Glad you're alright, Ron."
Pulling away from his brother just as his mother and father entered the room, Ron asked, "Where're Fred and George?"
Looking more than a little uneasy, Ginny stepped forward and said, "Um, they were feeling a little…tired, so they decided to head on home to their flat about half an hour ago. They said to give you their best wishes, though."
Smirking at the thought, Ron said, "Yeah, right. I'd never want the best wishes of those two, or I wouldn't be able to sit down right for a week!" Though everybody laughed at this, Ron didn't notice that most of the laughter sounded rather forced.
Attempting to change the subject, Ginny asked, "So Ron, what'd the healer say?"
Before Ron could attempt an answer, Mrs. Weasley clucked her tongue then said, "My, my, look at how late it is! We can talk more tomorrow. You three," she said, motioning to Ron, Ginny and Hermione, "Off to bed with you, this instant. Bill, will you be staying? I could whip up a spot of tea, if you like."
Shaking his head and taking a step in the direction of the fireplace, Bill replied, "No, Mum, that's alright. I've got some things I need to be getting back to."
Her questioning expression moving to a scowl, Mrs. Weasley retorted, "Things, indeed. Tell Fleur I said hello, will you? And just when are you planning on making an honest woman out of her, eh?"
His face coloring deeply, Bill chose not to respond as he muttered, "Good night, everyone," then quickly flooed away. The rest of the room laughed heartily at his show of cowardice.
Looking at the staircase, Mrs. Weasley said, "Off to bed, and that's the last I'll say of it." Quickly, they headed upstairs.
Reaching the second floor and passing the girls who had stopped at Ginny's room, Ron was just rounding the staircase and making his way up when he heard, "R-Ron…wait." Looking back with an eyebrow raised confusingly, he saw Hermione standing a few feet away, wringing her hands and appearing as though she was at war with herself over something. Finally, she walked up, hugged herself to him and kissed him on the cheek, then whispered in his ear, "I was so worried. I really am glad you're alright." Turning before he could see her blush once more, she quickly made her way to Ginny's room and shut the door.
Slowly, Ron's hand reached up and felt his cheek, his body momentarily mesmerized by the kiss he had just received. Finally, he shook his head to clear his mind enough that he could make his way up to his room, where he knew that yet another torturous night of sleep awaited.
"RON! GINNY! HERMIONE! GET UP AND GET DOWN HERE FOR BREAKFAST!" bellowed Mrs. Weasley.
Stretching like a cat, Ron was pleasantly surprised to find that he felt more rested than he had in months. Though he could vaguely remember having the dream during the night, it seemed neither as pronounced nor as potent as it had in nights past. He felt so good in fact, that when he heard his stomach rumble as he was putting on a shirt, he didn't even hesitate to head downstairs and join the rest of his family for breakfast.
Walking through the door, a spring in his step, he whistled lightly as he walked over, pecked his mother on the cheek, then pulled out a chair and took his seat, surveying the table for any food that may already be accessible. Seeing a platter filled high with toast, he zealously began buttering two slices, then reached for the marmalade.
Throughout this entire series of activities, the other patrons of the Weasley kitchen, including Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ginny and Hermione, merely stared on in wonderment. This was the most energy and enthusiasm any of them had seen Ron use in months, and none of them quite knew what to make of it. Finally, Ginny's face took on a smirk as she said, "My, aren't we…chipper this morning. What, did the Cannons win the cup during the middle of the night or something?"
Looking up from his toast, he took on a smirk of his own before retorting, "Are you kidding? You'll be captain of the Gryffindor team before that lazy bunch o' sods finally wins the cup, so I'm not holdin' my breath!" Seeing her scowl, he finished, "I don't know, I just feel…different this morning. Better. Lighter, if that makes any sense at all."
Bustling over and placing platters of sausage, eggs and biscuits on the table, Mrs. Weasley was extremely pleased to see her son fill his plate with heaping piles of each before tucking in with his usual exuberance. "Well, whatever's got you feeling better, it's got your appetite feeling better too!" Smiling happily, she returned to the stove to make more, just in case he felt like seconds.
Pleasant conversation filled the room for the next few minutes, the youngsters discussing what to do with their day, since Ron and Ginny had been told they did not have to work on the garage for the rest of the week. Just as a picnic to the pond was being tossed around, a light knock was heard at the door. Rushing over to answer, Mrs. Weasley quickly opened up and looked outside.
The two men that stood before her were rather plain looking, each very clean and well groomed, wearing identical formal robes. Mistaking the pair for some sort of sales wizards, she quickly said, "Sorry, gentlemen, but we'll not be having any of your wares today," and moved to shut the door. Just as the door was almost closed, however, a cane from one of the men snuck between it and the jamb, keeping it from closing.
"Erm, Mrs. Weasley, I hate to barge in like this, but we were hoping that we could have a moment of your time. It has to do with your son," said the man on the left, who upon second glance appeared to be slightly older than his companion who was holding the cane.
Suddenly taking on an apprehensive look, she replied, "Oh, wait. Are you some sort of government officials?" Shaking her head from side to side, she asked, "Alright, what have they done?"
Not looking the slightest bit confused, the man on the left asked lightheartedly, "Why, Mrs. Weasley, whoever do you mean?"
"My sons, Fred and George, I'm sure they're who you're here about. What have they done, and how much damage have they caused?"
Chuckling lightly, the younger of the two pressed lightly on the door, opening it more fully before responding, "No, no, we're here for your other son. Your youngest, Ronald? I assume he's feeling better today?"
"And just what do you know of it?" questioned Mr. Weasley, who had by now gotten up and was standing beside his wife, his wand clutched readily behind his back. "Just who are you and what are you doing here?"
Retaining his winning smile, the older of the two men responded, "Well, who we are is…complicated, and I'm afraid we can't really get into it. To make our lives easier, why don't you call me Jared, and my companion Brian? Now, as for why we're here, I already told you, we've come to speak with you about your son."
Deciding quickly that he did not like the looks of these men one bit, Mr. Weasley began closing the door and said, "I'm sorry, we're not interested."
As the door was closing, the one calling himself Brian quickly said, "If you don't listen to us, I guarantee your son will only get worse again."
Catching the door just in time, Mrs. Weasley whipped it open and asked, "Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?"
"Why, not at all, my dear lady, merely the truth." No longer waiting for an invitation, both men walked forward and entered the house, gently brushing past the two elder Weasley's. "I suppose you'll be wanting to send the youngsters away so we can talk, so my partner and I will just wait patiently until you're ready." With that, they both took up post near the counter, continuing to smile brightly and showing an unnervingly sunny disposition. Seeing the look of foreboding on Mrs. Weasley's face, Jared said jovially, "I assure you, we are not here to harm you. In fact, you can hold our wands, if you want." Reaching inside their robes, the two men pulled out their wands and laid them on the counter and moved away, followed shortly after by Mrs. Weasley, who scooped the wands up.
Throughout the entire exchange, Ron, Hermione and Ginny sat quietly and observed. Hermione looked to be becoming increasingly nervous, while Ginny and Ron seemed to get agitated. 'Just who are these nutters coming into our house,' Ron thought, though he refrained from any outburst. Unable to use his wand, he did not want to escalate any situation his parents would have to take care of.
Breaking the silence, the three were stunned to hear the voice of Mrs. Weasley behind them, "Ginny, Ron, Hermione, you three head on upstairs to Ron's room, and stay there until I come and get you."
"But Mum-" cried Ginny.
"No buts, young lady. Get moving. NOW!"
"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask that young Ronald stay behind, as he is the key to our conversation. Once we get started, I'm sure you'll agree," said Jared, still smiling brightly. Mrs. Weasley noticed that both men's teeth were almost unnaturally perfect.
"No! We'll decide-" began Mrs. Weasley, before she was interrupted by her husband.
"Now Molly, lets hear what the man has to say." Leaning in closer, he whispered into her ear, "We don't know who they are or what they want, and I don't want to upset them just yet. Right now, they seem cooperative enough, let's keep it that way." Raising his voice so that all could hear, he said, "Ron, you may stay."
Pouting slightly, Ginny whined, "But, but…if Ron gets to stay-"
"Now that's enough of that, young lady!" demanded Mrs. Weasley. "Get upstairs this instant!"
Seeing the determined expressions of both her parents, Ginny begrudgingly turned and headed out the door. With one last, worried look at Ron, Hermione followed closely behind her.
Once the two had climbed the stairs, Mrs. Weasley cast a silencing charm on the kitchen door. Seeing the confused looks on the faces of the two men, she commented, "Extendable ears. My twin sons invented 'em, and all seven children are quite proficient at using them. Now, if you two don't mind, can you please tell me what you're doing in my house?"
Stepping forward and pointing at the kitchen table, Brian calmly asked, "Why don't we all have a seat, yes? This conversation could take a moment, and we might as well get comfortable." Shortly after he finished, all five people sat at the table.
Staring pointedly at the two men, two minutes passed by before Mrs. Weasley finally asked impatiently, "Well?"
"Oh, sorry Ma'am, but we're not quite ready yet. You see, there's still one more guest coming, and we feel you all will be a little more comfortable with this meeting once he arrives." Looking at his watch, Jared continued, "He should be here any minute. From our experience, he's generally quite punctual. Oh, and don't worry about work, Sir," he said while turning to look at Mr. Weasley. "As far as your boss is concerned, you've called in sick this morning. Quite the nasty case of the flu, I'm afraid." Finished speaking, he calmly folded his hands on the tabletop in front of him and continued to smile politely.
Beginning to become fed up with these two and their antics, Mr. Weasley stood from his chair and said agitatedly, "Now look here, I don't know who you two are or where you come from, but I've had about enough-" He got no further as a familiar voice shouted from the living room fireplace.
"Arthur? Molly? I've received your note and come as you've asked," shouted the ever-calm and serene voice of Albus Dumbledore.
Glancing questioningly at her husband and seeing just as confused a look on his face, Mrs. Weasley called back, "We're in the kitchen, Albus. Feel free to come on in." A few short moments later, the Headmaster himself walked through the doorway, as impressive a sight to behold as ever.
Quickly taking in the tense sight before him, Dumbledore smiled slightly and said, "Hello Molly, Arthur and young Mr. Weasley." Turning to the other two men, he said, "I'm sorry, I don't believe I've had the pleasure. Albus Dumbledore," and extended his hand to shake. Both men shook his hand quickly while one of them said, "The pleasure is ours, Sir. You can call me Jared, and my partner here Brian."
Looking around the table slowly, Dumbledore finally said, "Well, I received an invitation, one that I initially believed to be from Molly Weasley mind you, to come over and enjoy a bit of nice homemade sweets, although I am beginning to think I've been a bit bamboozled." Smiling knowingly, he turned to the two unknown men and asked, "Tell me, how did you make your owl appear and act so similarly to the Weasley family owl? Usually I'm quite good at spotting fakes."
Smiling as always, Brian said, "I'm sorry, Sir, but we're not able to divulge that information. Trade secret, you understand." Seeing the amused nod from the famous Headmaster, he continued, "Please, Sir, why don't you have a seat? Now that you've arrived, I believe this meeting can begin."
Watching the Headmaster take a seat directly across from herself, Mrs. Weasley said, "Albus, I'm sorry, we had no idea they had involved you. We're not even sure who they are. They just showed up about ten minutes ago saying that they had information about Ron."
Holding up his hands to stay her, Dumbledore jovially responded, "Think nothing of it, my dear Molly. I'm always in the mood for a good chat. Now," he turned to look at the closest of the two men, "Brian, I believe, what is it about young Mr. Weasley here that you wish to share with us?" Finishing his question, he winked ever-so-slightly in Ron's direction, his eyes twinkling brightly.
"Well, you certainly cut to the chase," said Jared. "I like that. The answer to your question, Sir, is a bit complicated, so I feel I must start at the beginning. You see, shortly after the first fall of he-who-must-not-be-named, an amazing discovery was made dealing with the scientific study of the metamorphmagus ability. It was discovered that the cause of the metamorphmagus ability is not magical, as one would expect, but rather involves the interaction of a wizard's magic with a certain protein that exists in the brains of all human beings. Now, for 99.99999 of all human kind, this protein simply lies dormant, unusable. For the remaining 0.00001, however, it is very much active. If the protein is active within a muggle, nothing comes of it, and the muggle is no different than any other. If, however, the protein is active within the brain of someone possessing magical blood, that person has the rare but exciting abilities of a metamorphmagus."
Interrupting here, Mrs. Weasley asked, "So, are you saying that my Ronnie has this…port-thingy?"
"It's Protein," said Brian, "and…yes and no." Seeing the look of confusion on her face, he continued, "Up until roughly a month and a half ago, the protein within your son's body remained dormant, as is the case with almost anybody. Due to an…unfortunate incident at the Department of Mysteries, however, that is no longer the case."
Feeling somewhat shocked, Ron piped in for the first time, barely whispering, "The brain…"
"Quite right, my young man," said Jared. "You see, once the discovery of this protein was made, it was decided amongst people who will not be mentioned here today that it would be beneficial to learn as much as possible about it, and to see if it could be manipulated to our advantage."
Smiling understandingly, Dumbledore said, "Essentially, you were attempting to create a sort of…amplified metamorph, am I correct?"
Nodding his head, Brian said, "Almost. We weren't only trying, we actually succeeded. Using a combination of muggle scientific methods and magical abilities, we were able to culture the protein to be more than fifty times as potent as normal. The test subjects who were injected with the protein were not only able to change their own appearance; they were able to change the appearance of their surroundings, as well. Not only that, but we found that they could control who could see what, so that, for example, five different people in the same room would be seeing five different scenarios of how the room was put together."
Seeing the slightly awed faces of the Weasley family, Jared interrupted, "The tests were not without their drawbacks, however. We were unfortunately never able to develop an injectable version of the protein compound that would remain permanent. For some reason, the host body would begin to reject the injected protein after a few hours, and by the time four or five days had passed, all test subjects would lose their abilities completely. It was at this point that we decided to attempt…different methods. You see, to culture the proteins properly, they had to be developed within a human brain. From there, they would be extracted and placed in vials for later use. Well, we theorized that if the proteins were transmitted directly from a brain to a host, that the transition may become more permanent. To accomplish this task, we not only cultured the protein during the brain's development, but also magically enhanced the brain itself so that, when the time was right, it would be able to administer the protein to its host subject. Most unfortunately, however, a certainincident within the Department of Mysteries destroyed all the cultured brains two days prior to their testing date. Only one brain was able to make its delivery of protein to a viable host, and that viable host is currently sitting in this room."
Feeling all eyes upon him suddenly, Ron hunched down in his chair and said quietly, "B-but, I don't…I couldn't…I haven't been able to do anything, change anything I mean. Your test must not have worked."
"Well, that's one opinion, Sir, however I have another," Jared said. "Exactly what do you remember happening during your…episode at dinner last night? Oh, and before you ask how I know about that, all I can tell you is that my people have found it in the best interests of all involved to keep tight tabs on you, Mr. Weasley, up until now, to see how things have progressed."
Waiting until the man finished talking, Ron finally answered, "Well, to tell the truth, I don't remember much. One minute, I was angry at Fred and George, then I stood up to tell them off and all of the sudden everything went black. I remember it felt really cold for a split second, and then I don't remember anything at all. The next thing I knew, I was waking up at St. Mungo's."
"Indeed, indeed. I believe that if you ask either of your twin brothers, Sir, their account of the events will be very different. You see, we believe that last night you used your new ability for the first time, at least in such a high dose. The reason you passed out may be as simple as overexposure," finished Jared.
"Overexposure?" asked a bewildered looking Mr. Weasley.
Still smiling, Brian interrupted, "Yes, it would be similar to what a man dieing of thirst would experience, should he happen upon a lake. He would inevitably drink too much, too fast, in which case he would simply end up making himself sick. In this instance, your body, or primarily your brain, was dieing to use the built up concentration of protein it had accumulated, and once it did, it couldn't handle the overload."
Comprehension dawning on her face, Mrs. Weasley asked, "Is that why you said earlier that he would go bad again? Because of the built up port-thingy?"
"Correct, Ma'am. You see, when test subjects used the ability continuously, the proteins were discharged from their brains and would flow through their bloodstream. However, when they did not use their abilities enough, the protein would build up in their brains, accumulating more and more. Now, in a normal metamorph, this is no problem, as the protein is not potent enough to cause any damage. In a test subject containing the enhanced protein, though, we have discovered that as the protein accumulates in the brain, it begins to affect that subject's emotions and subconscious thoughts. Most subjects would experience very large mood swings, along with highly undesirable dreams. If left unused, we theorized that after one to two weeks, the subject would lose the capacity to judge right from wrong, essentially becoming insane."
"But, it's been more than a month and a half, and he's just now used his abilities the way you say he needs to," said Mr. Weasley.
"Yes, Sir, we've thought about that, and we believe that the protein has spent much of this time not only accumulating, but also becoming accustomed to your son's body, slowing its progress," continued Brian. "However, if it is now fully accustomed, your son needs to learn how to outlet his abilities very soon. This is where you come in, Professor Dumbledore."
Remaining unfazed, Dumbledore continued to listen casually.
"You see," said Jared, "the people I work for are very aware of the organization that your run, Sir, and are also aware that one of its members is a metamorph. Having taken the stance to not become directly involved with your conflict, we have decided that Mr. Weasley here is to be left in your charge, and that we will merely continue to observe from afar, as we have done already."
"Now wait just a soddin' minute," Mrs. Weasley burst out, "are you trying to tell me that if you had chosen, you would have just taken my son from me?!? Why does it have to be my son? Why can't you just make a bunch more brains with these port-thingies in them?"
Seeing her angry stature, Dumbledore quickly interrupted, "Now Molly, please try to remain calm. We are here to discuss matters calmly, and anger will get us nowhere." Turning back to Jared, he continued, "Am I to have your word that Mr. Weasley is not to be touched? For if I feel that there is even the slightest bit of a chance that he will be taken by your people, I assure you that he will be taken away to a place that you will never find him." Though his words were casual, there was a hidden strength behind them that most definitely made them a promise and not a threat.
Nodding his compliance, Brian answered, "Yes, you have the word of our company. We wish only to observe his progress. To answer your question, Mrs. Weasley, the culturing process for these brains takes a total of more than four years from start to finish. So, for the next four years, your son is the only viable test subject we have with which to observe. Besides, eventually, you may see that his abilities could be…most useful to your cause."
Becoming visibly agitated for the first time, Dumbledore grabbed the man's gaze with his eyes the way one man might grab another's collar and said menacingly, "The people I represent would never use someone simply for the power that they behold."
Looking unaffected by the man's outrage, Jared said, "Indeed, we thought as much. Either way, we are only here to inform you of this so that you may get him the help he will need as soon as possible. Now if you will excuse us, my partner and I will be on our way. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, it was a pleasure, Professor Dumbledore, an honor, and Ronald, well, best of luck to you, young man. Good day." With that, both men rose from their seats.
Walking around the table, Brian held out his hand to Mrs. Weasley and said, "I think we'll be needing those back," while pointing at the two wands held in her grip.
Looking up at him incredulously, she said, "What, that's it? You just come into my house, tell me about this…this port-thingy you let loose on my son, then leave?"
Smiling consolingly, he responded, "Ma'am, I assure you that we've provided all the information you need to know at this stage. This situation is just as new to us as it is to you, I assure you of that." Still holding out his hand, he smiled wider and nodded his appreciation as the matriarch of the Weasley household lifted the two wands to his hand. Walking towards the door, he stopped, looked back and said, "Oh, and about Healer Alberts. I wouldn't worry too much about those tests he wanted to run. As far as he's concerned, your son checked in and checked out last night with absolutely no abnormalities, if you catch my meaning." Silently, both men walked from the house, the popping sound of apparition heard only seconds afterwards. All four people left in the room got the distinct impression that neither man would be seen again.
"How could you two let them just leave?" Mrs. Weasley asked, looking pointedly between her husband and Dumbledore.
Seeing that Mr. Weasley appeared to be in a semi-state of shock, Dumbledore finally responded, "Molly, I believed them when they said that they could offer us no further information. To attempt to hold them against their will, I believe, would only have earned us an enemy amongst the people that they worked for, and I did not want to chance that."
Quickly changing the subject, the aged Headmaster said, "Now, we must begin planning immediately. If what they said was true, and from the recount of yesterday evening's events I'm sure it is, then young Mr. Weasley here must begin training as soon as possible." Looking at each of the three faces pointed in his direction, he continued, "I believe that, for the time being, secrecy is of the utmost importance. That is why I am leaving from here to directly retrieve Ms. Tonks immediately, by myself." Turning to Ron, he concluded, "Mr. Weasley, hopefully after some time spent with Ms. Tonks, we will better be able to understand your situation. Until then, I will trust you to keep informed only those you trust completely." Upon finishing this statement, he stood and made his way quickly from the room, saying his goodbyes to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley as he walked out the door, headed for the floo.
Sitting in a state of semi-shock, all Ron could think was, 'Is this really happening?'
A/N: Whewww!! I guess, since it's Christmas and all, as a present I'm giving you guys almost twice the normal chapter size. This chapter started out being nowhere near as big as it finished, but as I was writing, I just kept on thinking of things to add. So, what do you think? See, I could have been mean and made you wait for the explanation of what's happening to Ron for much longer, but I decided to be kind. In return, you all should be kind an REVIEW!! Well, now that I've got that out of my system, on to the love!
STORY RECOMMENDATION: After much consideration, this week's story recommendation goes to a story that is actually still ongoing, titled "Sorting Out The Boys", by mkwmkw. It can be found at simplyundeniable(dot)com, and is, without a doubt, the funniest piece of HP fanfiction I have found on the web, bar none. It is a post HBP fic, mostly dealing with the Ron/Hermione ship, but with some Harry/Ginny thrown in. Now, on to the reviewer love!
Mists: I'm sure at some point Ron will feel guilty, but he has to be told what happened, first!
Trude: Nice guess on the possession bit, it's what I would have thought. Actually, I was hoping you all would think that way, just so I could throw you for a loop!
Helpmydeath: Yeah, hopefully now you won't feel so bad towards Ron. Now that we know what's causing his depression, hopefully he'll be better from here on out, right?
PadawanHermione, joshysgirl, alexiel90, GregsLabrat, and InsertBrillianceHere: Thanks for the continued support, it means so much to me!
Happy Holidays everyone!
Cheers!!