A belated Merry Christmas and Happy New Year :D

The next day Ron awoke to a gentle knocking at his door. Ron's tired eyes opened and he murmured "enter" – he knew it wasn't a Death Eater. Death Eater's didn't knock.

It must be an elf.

An elf with breakfast.

'Hello,' said a nervous voice, Ron immediately recognised it.

'Draco?' He suddenly sat up and rested his back against the large headboard. This was the last person he expected to see or hear from. Then it occurred to him that he was stupid to think that. He was in Malfoy Manor so, of course, Draco Malfoy would be around. Yet it still surprised him that Draco had been allowed to visit the prisoner - but had Draco been granted permission?

'I brought breakfast,' he replied in a more cheerful tone. 'I hope you've got something on under that duvet,' Draco smirked as he noticed Ron's topless body.

'And what if I haven't?' winked Ron with a sly smirk. Draco momentarily froze, believing his friend to be fully naked, before he glared at the shirtless Weasley.

'Oh ha ha ha, want this food or not?'

'Give it.'

'Ask nicely.'

'I am not begging.'

'Right then, I'll just take back all of this warm, lovely, delicious -'

'Stop it!' Ron mockingly put his hands over his ears. 'Don't even suggest such a thing.'

'Well, ask nicely or the food gets it.'

'Please, Draco, give me the food.'

'I said nicely. So repeat after me "please Draco, god of everything, allow me to eat the food you have so kindly brought me. I am just an inferior speck of nothing compared to your never-ending wisdom, grace and greatness," yeah, that will do it,' Draco nodded as his mouth formed a wily Slytherin smile. 'Oh and say, "Gryffindors are worthless but Slytherins are - ' Ron cut across.

'Yeah, yeah I get it,' he glowed, he really wanted the food. Bastard. 'Please Draco, god of everything, let me have the fucking food. I'm just nothing. You're amazing, blah, blah, blah. Gryffindors are worthless but Slytherins are great.'

With a laugh, Draco handed the heavy breakfast tray over and sat at the end of Ron's plush king-sized bed. 'Not,' Ron added when he placed the food next to him on the bed.

'Ron! That's it,' said Draco. He lunged at Ron, causing the tray to lose balance and topple off the bed and onto the floor. Ron watched it fall in slow motion to the floor with a crash.

'Oh, you've done it now!' Ron attacked back with a laugh. Ron thought he would have overpowered the Slytherin easily, he was taller and broader, but Draco, being his Slytherin self, was quick and sharp with his playful swipes.

'When you two lovers have finished, I would like to speak to Ron,' both boys froze at the cold voice. They turned to look at the door, still frozen entangled in their fighting.

Voldemort was standing in the door frame, staring at the pair.

Draco shivered and regaining his senses, pulled himself from under Ron (who was winning this part of their playful fight) and went to pick up the tray.

'Don't, Draco, just go,' Ron ordered, knowing Draco didn't want to be there any longer. 'Close the door,' he added as Draco evaded Voldemort as much as he could while he left.

He gave a final nod to Ron as he shut the door and hurried off.

'You and little Malfoy?' Voldemort gave a smile that sent shivers down Ron's spine. Ron said nothing and began to pick up the pieces of the breakfast. 'Leave it, boy' Voldemort added in a harsher tone. Ron wanted to carry on tidying, but something in him compelled him to obey.

Ron stepped away and faced the Dark Lord.

'What do you want?' He said bluntly through gritted teeth. He didn't like being in the same room as Him, let alone have a conversation. Last night's thoughts flashed through his disturbed mind. Voldemort flicked his wrist and the breakfast remains tidied themselves to Voldemort's whim.

'Do not be annoyed with me. How was I to know I was interrupting a romantic moment?' He mocked, but Ron wasn't going to react. 'Little Malfoy? He's inferior to you. He's stupid, rather pathetic,' began Voldemort and as he continued with the relentless insults of the young Malfoy. Ron felt his emotions build and his ears began flushing dangerous red. He clenched his fists. He hated hearing his friends and the ones he loved insulted.

'Shut up!' Yelled Ron. The glass in the windows smashed inwards and cold wind hurled in.

'You must learn to control your emotions, boy,' He said, his voice cold. 'You shall have a lesson with me today. You have ten minutes,' and with that Voldemort left. Leaving the broken windows as they were; it would serve the boy right.

As Voldemort walked out, Ron felt his left leg cramp up tightly.

'I am a Death Eater, I bear the Dark Mark.'

Ron allowed himself to be led to the meeting chamber, there was no point fighting any more. Besides, the more they thought he accepted all of this the better the chance he would leave this place alive and well.

As the doors were opened, Ron strode in and saw Voldemort sitting on his throne with Nagini resting on his shoulders.

With a nod, the chaperone disappeared and the doors were shut.

'I see you remembered your cloak,' Voldemort commented.

'I don't fancy being recognised,' Ron's voice and eyes were almost as cold as Voldemort's heart, he inclined his head to the "man" in the chair. He refused to bow.

'I see you also remembered your manners,' Voldemort turned his attention to his faithful snake, he whispered to her and she slithered off into the darkness. Ron tensed. He preferred it when he could see her. 'She will not harm you,' Voldemort gave a wicked smile as he sensed Ron's thoughts. 'Shall we get started?'

Voldemort stood up from his throne and approached a standing Ron. 'Sit,' he ordered and a wooden chair appeared behind Ron. He left it a few seconds before he sat in the chair. Ron took a deep breath and let himself physically relax, but mentally he was fully on guard – he didn't trust Voldemort.

'We will start off with something simple and easy,' began Voldemort, but Ron figured this lesson would be anything but easy or simple. 'Close your eyes.'

Ron hesitated, he didn't trust this "man" in front of him and the last thing he wanted was to not be able to see what he was doing. He relented though. Most of the lessons began with a meditation so he let himself gently shut his eyes, yet his ear sensitivity increased – he could hear Voldemort's soft footsteps on the marble floor of the room.

He breathed in and out deeply, waiting for the next instruction.

But it never came.

Ron groaned as his eyes fluttered opened and the dull winter sunshine half blinded him. His head pounded. It was like a thousand miniature ogres were at war in his head. He thought his head would break open at any second.

He couldn't remember how long he had been asleep for or what had happened before he blacked out and, even for a second, he wondered why he wasn't in his bedroom at the Burrow. However he soon remembered that and more than ever he wanted to know why his head hurt so much and what had happened.

He remembered Voldemort.
He remembered closing his eyes.
He remembered nothing more.

But his ears remembered something.
They remembered a woman's scream.
A ghastly, sickening, despairing scream.

Then he was sick. All over the white duvet and onto his lap.

He stumbled up and across the room but it was only a metre or so before his legs gave way and he collapsed onto the floor. Ron tried to cry out but he just didn't have the strength. Whatever he had done, he knew, he wouldn't be proud of.

He suddenly dawned on him that the scream, the only thing he could remember, was his doing.

He had caused that scream.

What had he done?

'Ron, Ron,' Ron heard his voice being called and his body being gently shook.

'I'll get him on to his bed,' said a lower, older voice than his caller. He felt a strong pair of arms lift him onto a bed. He moaned gently.

'I thought he was dead,' whispered his caller, whose voice was obviously shaken and scared.

'Mr Weasley is strong, you should know that,' said the lower voice as he placed Ron onto the bed. 'His pulse was very weak, but it was there. He'll make it through,' Ron heard the voice smile. 'That's more than can be said for Mary and James,' the man added in a quieter tone.

'Did you add something?'

'No,' said the voice lying. 'Pass me the bottle with the green liquid.'

'Liquid? That's more sludge,' the younger male said with disgust in his voice.

'Call it what you will, it'll help him. Hold his nose,' ordered the older one and Ron felt his nose being pinched by thin, bony fingers.

And with that, Ron slipped back into the darkness.

'Ron? Ron, it's Draco, wake up,' Ron did as he was asked and opened his eyes.

This time he felt stronger and well. With Draco's help, he sat up and stared at the boy beside him.

Draco sat in a small chair next to Ron's bed with a resilient smile on his face.

'It's nice to see you awake again.'

'What happened Draco?' Draco's smile disappeared, but another soon flickered on to replace it; he quickly tried to change subject.

'It's Christmas Eve you know! You've been asleep for a while now, lazy git,' he gave a chuckle. 'So get dressed and I'll come back in half an hour. If you need any help just call out, someone will hear,' and with that, Draco left. No explanation for what had happened or what Ron had done.

Ron's head began to pound, but he could still move and this time he made it to the bathroom without falling to the ground. He slowly got himself changed.

Because of his refusal to join the dark ranks and accept the Dark Mark, he had many bruises in many different places, but as he stripped, he noticed they were now few in number - and the remaining ones had nearly completely faded. They had been there before, but now they weren't.

What had changed?

Ron shook his head gently and moved to look in the bathroom mirror. He was in for a bigger shock than the lack of bruising.

Gone was his famed, fiery mop of hair. Instead his hair was the darkest black Ron had ever seen, his face looked pure white against it. And running through this darkness were streaks of gold, pure arrogant gold.

Then he noticed his eyes.

Pure red. A blood red.

He recognised those eyes.

They were the same colour as Voldemort's but slightly brighter due to his sinister hair.

Why hadn't Draco said anything about this?

Red eyes and gold hair were a bit different from light blue eyes and red hair.

Ron stared at his reflection and wondered if it was some kind of practical joke. But as he carried on looking, he realised it wasn't. He tried washing his hair, but it didn't fade.

This was real.

'Oi, Ron, you best be dressed because I'm coming in, ready or not,' called Draco cheerfully from the hall. Ron slowly threw on his shirt as Draco walked in. 'What some breakfast?'

Ron just nodded.

'We've missed it but if we head to the kitchens, the elves will make us something,' he smiled and was soon out of the room, knowing Ron would follow at the promise of food.

'Thanks,' murmured Ron as he polished off his third bowl of cornflakes. He had been starving, but his mind hadn't had a chance to think of his stomach until now. It was too confused.

'I thought you were never going to stop eating,' smirked Draco, who sat opposite Ron at the small table.

'Draco,' Ron said as he stared into Draco's grey eyes. 'What happened?'

Draco went to stand up, but Ron grabbed his arm.

'I need to know and from your reactions... I can tell you know.'

'There's a Christmas ball tonight,' he answered with a weak smile.

'I don't give a fuck about a ball. I need to know what happened. What did I do?' Ron's gaze was so intense Draco could no longer hold it. He stood up, but Ron tightened the hold on his arm. 'Please Draco. You know I trust you with my life. I trust you with anything, don't deny me the truth. What did I do? What happened?'

'You won't like it.'

'I don't care! I just need to know. You know I would tell you if I was in your position.'

'I doubt you would.'

'Draco,' Ron made Draco look him in the eyes. His stare was hard and deep. Draco sighed.

'If I must,' he sank back into his chair. Ron gave a small smile.

'Thank you.'

'Now I don't know everything - but I've heard some things here and there,' Draco couldn't look Ron in the eye. 'I don't know if it's all true but I know you won't like any of it, so don't go interrupting me. If you start talking, I probably won't be able to continue.'

'I promise not to say anything until you've finished.'

'I don't really know where to start so... I'll be blunt,' Draco looked into Ron's eyes. 'You tortured and killed a woman, I mean woman and man. The woman is was a pure-blood witch called Mary, who worked at the core of an important Ministry security and defence team. She knew how to get into all parts of the Ministry and every secret plan, idea or scheme it had. She, apparently, gave away everything. Including the spells protecting Hogwarts and the over-ride spell to remove all protecting charms over Hogwarts,' Draco took a deep breath before continuing. 'Her husband was James, the leader of the muggle protection unit at the Ministry. Certain high density muggle towns and cities have had incredibly strong and violent charms cast over them to protect them from Death Eater attacks and many muggleborn witches and wizards have been placed into hiding from Death Eaters. He keeps track of all these muggleborns and knows all of the different reversible spells to remove the city protection spells. Basically, his unit was in charge of keeping thousands of muggles and muggleborns safe. He gave away all of his information. Both had special charms to make sure that if they were tortured to give information away, their minds would "self-destruct", all knowledge would be erased from their memory and they would both die instantly – that's how important their knowledge was. But somehow, you did something and they didn't die and the information stayed in their minds. They had no choice. After an hour, they had both given everything away so severe was the torture they suffered. It was always believed that those special charms could never be broken or undone, but you can and did. You're the key that can open any door.'

There were a few minutes of silence before Ron spoke.

'I'm a monster.'

'No, Ron. I've grown up around monsters and you certainly aren't one. You couldn't have helped it,' Draco tried to smile, but he knew it was no use.
This would break Ron.
And he hadn't even told him everything.

'How could you know?' Ron slammed his fist hard down on the table. 'You weren't there! I probably enjoyed it. I'm just a sadistic little bastard,' tears formed in his now green eyes. 'Look. Look at me. Look what's happened. This isn't me,' he forced through clenched teeth. 'I might as well die. It would be better for everyone,' he gave a cold, heartless laugh. 'People would be safe then. I. Am. A. Monster.' He picked up his bowl and launched it across the kitchen. It smashed into the wall breaking the silence.

Ron stormed away.

Draco heard the rumbling of thunder overhead.

'Weather's shit.'

Ron sat against a tree, hugging his knees against his chest, in the middle of the Malfoy grounds. Rain thundered to the ground, soaking Ron to the core. But the biting cold couldn't freeze his heart or body any more than what he had heard minutes before. He glanced up to see a black figure over him, perfectly dry.

'Mind if I smoke?' Ron said nothing and looked back down. 'I'll take that as a no.'

The figure lit his cigarette and sat beside Ron.

'Don't tell anyone about this,' he said, motioning the cigarette in his hand. 'I'll get in trouble and we wouldn't want that, would we?'

'I won't,' answered Ron quietly.

'Good,' smiled the man. 'What you doing out here? You're not here for the same reason as me and I've got waterproof charms on.'

'I'm a monster.'

'So you've heard then. Guessing Draco told you. I heard him calling around for you,' Ron just nodded. 'To be honest, I don't see what the big deal is.' Ron stared hard at the man next to him.

'The big deal? I've tortured people.'

'Snap.'

'I've killed people.'

'Snap. And if we're honest, you've only done two people, I've done plenty more and I don't run away crying every time.'

'But you're a Death Eater,' pointed out Ron. There was something about this man's candid manner that made him talk.

'And I'm meant to be a professor,' he stated. 'Remember, you are a Death Eater too, even if you didn't want to be. You still are.'

'But-.'

'There are no "but"s about it. You had no choice – you're a Manipulator and at the moment you don't have much control over your powers. You're susceptible to attacks from others. The Dark Lord just used you, like he does everybody.'

'I could die. I deserve to.' Snape laughed at the morbid statement.

'I said that years ago and yet I'm still here. You've got spirit, you're a Weasley and from personal experience, they are persistently stubborn,' Snape tutted at this comment

'I'm no Weasley.'

'Your mother is Molly Weasley and your father is Arthur Weasley and all your siblings are Weasleys and you live in the Burrow and you've got a Weasley temper and you haven't got much money and most importantly, you're ginger. I think we can safely say that you're a Weasley,' Snape said dryly.

'I'm not a red head anymore.'

'Sorry did I offend your royal Gingerness,' Snape snorted. 'Yes, you're not a "red head" anymore because of your conscience. You're body has physically reacted to what you've done. You're a contrast from your previous self. When really it didn't need to; you're still the same person. But I do like the hair though, black's a great colour,' he smirked.

'Will it change back?' Ron said in a small voice. Something in his mind clicked, he was still a Weasley and he could still make things right, somehow he could make this right. It would just take time. He had to make it all right.

'Yes, in time. When you've paid back your "debt" for what you've done. It could be a worse change. I knew a man who went through something like you did, he did something serious and regretted it. Let's just say, his name was Max and he ended up Maxine,' Snape laughed and Ron gave a small smile. 'I never let him sorry her, live it down.'

Snape put his hand on Ron's shoulder.

'You can't change the past, by Merlin I wish you could. There is one moment from my teenage years I would give anything to take back. It's a moment that haunts me and I'm convinced that if I hadn't done what I did, then everything would be different. I still think about what may have been, but now I accept it. I don't like it. I hate it. But I've grown to accept it.'

'What happened?' Snape looked away and his face turned to stone.

'I can't tell you. And there's another Weasley trait.'

'What?'

'Being fucking nosey,' he sneered; that was far more like the Snape Ron knew.

'I'd best go and find Draco.' They both stood up and the rain seemed to slacken off.

'Have you heard about the ball?'

'I think Draco may have mentioned something.'

'Well, it's tonight and every Slytherin past and present will be there. So you better look your best.'

'I'll try,' Ron smiled as Snape flicked his cigarette to the floor and they began to walk back to the grand house.

'And I think Draco needs a date,' Snape added.

'Ha, fucking, ha.'

'No, seriously. Get in there,' he replied and received a slap on the arm from a blushing Ron. 'Mr Weasley, if you don't desist I will have to take house points.'

'Well then, your little habit might just happen to make its way out into the open,' smirked Ron.

'You dare.'

'Well then, shut up.'