WINTERTIDE

000

CHAPTER NINE

Ronald Weasley knew a lot more than he let on as he sat scowling in the corner of the Hallway of the Burrow, unlike the 'adults' downstairs who were all running around like chickens with their heads cut off, he trusted his friends. Making a sound of disgust in the back of his throat he got to his feet, ignoring the frigid glare his younger sister shot him for his apparent lack of care for Harry's disappearance. He deigned not respond to her as he heard her mutter resentfully about Phlegm and being too young to know what was going on. You could have stripped dragon scale with how acid her words were.

Ron liked to think he was a good friend, a good brother, but he was coming to realise that... well, he couldn't be both. Not in a situation like this.

He knew Harry, his past, the things he didn't say. Ron may act like an oblivious twit the majority of the time but he did notice Harry and Hermione and he worried for them, especially Harry. The scrawny streak of raw nerves and sinew was his bestmate, the one who rescued his sister, who saved his life, saved his dad, who would walk through hell-fire for him, who he knew would give him half the Gold in his Vaults if he didn't know that he wouldn't accept it. Harry who had no concept of self-preservation when faced with other people in danger.

It was a secret he would take with him to his dying day but... Ron had very nearly ended up in Slytherin that September first evening when the Sorting Hat descended upon his head.

His ambition to stand above his brothers, to make something of himself, childish desires to get enough money to roll in and buy whatever he wanted, his cunning in Chess and Strategy... The Hat had laughed secretively in his ear telling him that he was Slytherin's ideal, cunning in all the ways it mattered with room to grow and the ambition to do well for himself, but only well enough to succeed and not get greedy and power hungry. Yes, Ronald Weasley was one of Slytherin's Favourite Students. But. The stones to do what was needed when it was needed, to step up to the plate no matter how terrified he was and get the job done pulled Gryffindor into favour, his friendship with Harry whom he desperately did not wish to lose, his family who would be horrified, his brothers whom he loved yet feared would turn nasty... The Hat deemed Gryffindor the safer option for his mental and emotional well being. He had not told a soul and whenever the subject of Slytherin's arose, he snarled viciously, defensively, bristled like a cat presented to water.

Everything about Harry... didn't add up.

Ron knew about setting people up, leading them on, manipulating them into the ideal position for the attack to be launched at the opportune moment. He sighed as he entered his room, it had undergone something of a change that year, the orange was gone, replaced with a slightly less headache inducing shade than neon, his bed had been pushed against the far wall instead of occupying the middle of the room. The broken furniture had been chucked, Ron himself breaking it apart and using bricks filched from the construction site down the road to make shelves out of the remaining planks of wood. His trunk was stowed safely under his bed, his school books stacked neatly on shelves in order of subject and year/difficulty, the carpets were clean and all his useless knickknacks had been sorted and kept or chucked depending on how he felt. The window was open allowing the warm summer breeze to refresh the air inside, his curtains were wide open allowing his room to be filled with light. It was a surprisingly large room, he was shocked to discover he actually had a desk, now currently at the end of his bed and next to the window with Pig's Cage sat closest to the window covered with his maroon dress-robes so the little owl could sleep comfortably.

His room had never been tidier.

The Gryffindor sat down at his desk, staring down at the sheets of paper he had laid out in front of him. All of them were about Harry, all the information he could remember or find about his friend, written down in rough form and then sorted into timeframes with reference numbers. He had seen Hermione doing rough drafts of homework essays like this and while he hated homework, this was about Harry so he had to do it, and the bushy haired witch's methods were just as efficient and effective as she herself.

What he was looking at painted a very grim picture of his bestfriend's circumstances and Ron's trust in Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix was crumbling.

Since day one, since day one, Harry had been conditioned and prepared for something. At the Dursleys he was emotionally and mentally abused and manipulated, at Hogwarts he was intentionally sabotaged, their whole year was according to what Bill told him of his years at Hogwarts, he was tested and tortured every year. Ron could see it now, he hadn't before, it never crossed his mind because he thought he had gone through everything exactly the same way as Harry had, that was foolish to believe and selfish. He could see that.

The red head gathered his papers up and carefully arranged them to be hidden within his Monster Book of Monsters, having found the vicious book to be quite pleasant once enough attention had been paid to it. He told the book to keep the papers safe from everyone that wasn't him and left it to nap on a sunny patch of his desk. It was only a matter of time, he decided, before someone would question him about whether or not he'd heard from Harry. At that point, he would have to make a choice, right now, he would have to make a choice.

His family, or his bestfriend.

Or rather, his baby sister, his teacher, the people his family respected and looked up to, the man he had been taught to love and respect without question since birth... Or his bestfriend.

He got to his feet as he heard a knock on the door.

Truthfully? Truthfully, Harry had not contacted him this summer at all.

Hermione on the other hand? Well, that was a different matter.

He suppressed a smirk as he opened the door to his mother's twisted and grimacing face. "Professor Dumbledore wants to see you," she told her youngest son in a quivering voice, no doubt trying to force back tears as she observed his room and came to the conclusion that he was just as worried and disturbed as she was if he had been that restless to clean up after himself.

Ron nodded, giving his mother a small hug, "Its alright mum, Harry's tough and the Order are looking hard for him. He'll be fine," he assured her, inhaling her warm smell of baking dough and floral perfume as he felt her tremble against him briefly.

She sniffled and took a breath, "You'd best be off, Albus is waiting in the living room. I'll, I'll put some tea on for you." Gently pushing herself away from her son she offered him a watery smile before bustling down the hallway and the stairs.

Out of sight, he smirked. Slytherin indeed.

000

Ariah sneezed and shook her head, dabbing at her slightly runny nose with a wet sleeve, the rain still coming down hard around them, rendering her glasses impossible to see out of. Gokudera was immediately rubbing her arms and panicking about how she must have caught a cold from running around in the rain without her shoes on. She literally had to wrestle the larger boy to prevent him from stripping off his shirt and giving it to her.

"Its fine! Go-Hayato," she corrected herself, a little hesitantly, making him pause, shirt midway up his belly and blinking at her with green eyes that were only a few shades off of her own. She smiled, seeing that she had his attention and he didn't seem upset with her rather familiar term of address. For someone raised in Italy, a lot of his mannerisms were strongly Japanese. "Hayato, it is alright. I'm British, this isn't going to give me a cold." She eyed him speculatively, "It might give you one though, we should probably get back," she decided, resolutely getting to her feet and grabbing him under the arms and hauling the stunned fifteen year old to his feet.

There was a moment of silence before she asked, "Are you alright... with me calling you by your first name?"

She needn't have worried, a split second later she found herself being engulfed in a very wet but very tight hug by a very emotional Storm Guardian, "Si! Si, mi piace davvero!" he exclaimed, picking her up as he had seen Hermione do earlier and spinning her around with a gleeful laugh. "Yes! Please, yes," he said in an understandable language, setting her down and tightening his hold on her briefly before releasing her.

She stumbled slightly and chuckled happily, "I'm glad. It would be rather strange calling my Uncle by his last name," she teased lightly, making the silver haired teen's eyes widen as he realised, yes, he really actually was related to her because Bianchi had managed to con Reborn-san into marrying her while he slept!

"But, you're older than me!" he squawked in embarrassment. True it was only by a year but she was in fact older.

"Then you'd best do as your told and hurry up before you catch a cold. C'mon, I'm sure Tsuna wouldn't mind if you used the shower or borrowed a set of clothes," she told him beginning to walk down the street. He spluttered and ran to catch up, slinging an arm around the smaller girl and pulling her tightly against his side, hopefully his body heat would protect her from the worst of the elements.

Elements... That brought something else to Gokudera's mind. No one had explained the Vongola or the Mafia to Hermione or Ariah. He would have to tell Reborn, however, he didn't think now was the right time, the girls were unusually emotional today, Ariah especially and they would need permission from Juudaime and Noveno-sama to reveal all. The only reason they'd gotten away with telling Kyoko-san and Haru-san was because it was in the future when Tsuna was the only leader of the Vongola and thus could act with impunity. Now though...

Reborn looked as though he had several things to say by the time they returned but he never got a chance to say them before Ariah was ushering her uncle towards the bathroom and requesting some clothes, through Bianchi, of Tsuna for him. He sighed and merely watched as it seemed as though everything had calmed down, the Guardians were still a little hair-trigger in case her temper surfaced again, glancing repeatedly at Hermione who seemed to be a very good judge of when to duck and cover and when it was safe. Ariah herself seemed oblivious but that was only how she seemed. She could be frighteningly observant and intuitive when she needed to be.

There were a few more demonstrations of Magic, Hermione knew more charms but Ariah just seemed to breathe magic, she created illusions, conjurations, transfigured a cushion into a kitten which Chrome seemed absolutely enchanted with. She showed them various defensive spells they could watch for, demonstrating a standard Shield Charm and how not much short of one of Ryohei's Cannon attacks could break it in one strike when it was freshly cast by someone of her power or above. Hermione's shield charms were much weaker and she sheepishly admitted she was a fair bit stronger than the average witch or wizard her age. Which made the Guardians look at Ariah in shock as she conjured butterflies for Lambo and I-pin to chase, all of them wondering just how powerful she really was.

Then Nana came home and the magical hi-jinx had to stop, the group had agreed subconsciously to protect the kindly woman from these things they got tangled up in, allowing her the peace of mind she needed to sleep at night.

000

Shimon Middle School, hm?

It looked as though there were going to be new Transfer Students at Namimori due to the Earthquake that had taken place during their return from the future last week. It felt like it was even further away, even to Reborn but the fact remained that the population was still a little leery of earthquakes, thus explaining the new students. There should have been roughly seven new students according to the Administration Office, still, for only seven students to transfer to this area... the others must have been divvied up around various schools.

Still, a little pang of paranoia stung his insides, instincts he never failed to pay attention to were ringing faintly with the knowledge that again, something big was on its way and Tsuna, as usual, was going to be in the middle of it. Why couldn't he have been less troublesome, like Dino? Ah well, it made life interesting the assassin decided with a smirk.

At least he wouldn't have to worry about Ariah and Miss Granger should Shimon prove to be a hazard. They had been rather insistent regarding getting Ariah's abilities in check, hence their current absence. The two girls had gone to the unmapped area of the mountains that Reborn had taken both Tsuna and Dino to earlier in the year, Reborn supposed they would be alright by themselves. The only reason Dino and Tsuna had so much difficulties was because he was having entirely too much fun screwing with them, without his interference, it should be a fairly easy and simple expedition.

The Assassin chuckled as he hopped to his feet, time to tell Dame-Tsuna the good news.

He was going to inherit the title of Vongola Decimo in a week. Preparations were needed.

000

Hermione glared skywards, she should have expected this, she really, really should have.

It had been a long, long time since Harry James Potter, or rather Ariah Serafino, had been skybound and the book-lover had no intention of catching a lift with the maniac. She could see the tiny pin-prick form of her bestfriend screaming through the air with all the force of a bullet doing all sorts of twists and turns, dives, loops and swirls.

There had even been one heart stopping moment when broom and rider became disconnected, her bestfriend freefalling before summoning said broom back into hand. If the Gryffindor hadn't been known that her bestfriend was literally born to fly, she would have been more worried. As it was, Ariah's flying abilities had only improved. Hermione's mind flashed back to Viktor and knew that should the two fly against each other now, he would lose and no one could claim otherwise, not even the most die hard of fans. It was as if Ariah had wings bared upon her back, invisible to all eyes but there all the same.

Even now Hermione could hear her laughter carried on the wind and thanked her lucky stars that these mountains were Unplottable due to the near-by Magic School. They would be undisturbed.

Thankfully she had possessed the forethought to give Bianchi one of the DA coins, making it capable of punching out a simple message so that they could prevent Reborn from driving himself mad with worry over his daughter. Hermione dreaded to think how the poor man was going to deal with her going away to Hogwarts, especially with everything he now knew. And that was just the watered down version they had all given to their parents. Bad, but not as bad as it really, really was.

Golden sparks lighting up the air let her know that Ariah had found a good campsite. Smiling slightly, she shifted her weight and started jogging. She had a surprise in her little bottomless bag that she was fairly certain her friend was going to enjoy. If they actually made any progress with it then they could both help Ron when they got back.

"What do you think?" Ariah asked, arms spread out, her face practically glowing even as her hair stuck up at all odd angles looking distinctly windswept and now with a random leaf sticking out of it where she had flown through a tree. Hermione refrained from giggling and instead gave their soon to be base camp a thorough eyeballing.

A small river a fair distance away, a little ridge that would give them some protection, thick trees and thorny thickets on both sides and good solid ground that was clear of undergrowth and grass. She nodded decisively and happily.

"Perfect," she declared, reaching into her bag and removing one of the magical collapsing tents and expanding it with a flick of her wand, chuckling at the appreciative look Ariah gave her as they both ducked inside and got themselves settled in.

Before too long, the girls were sat at the kitchen table with mugs of hot chocolate, parchment, ink, quills and books out in front of them, discussing quite seriously what their next steps would be.

"Defence is a must," Hermione stated, writing down several key points of the subject, "We'll need to work on casting, aim, speed, knowledge base and reflexes."

"Add physical defence onto that as well. I want more than one avenue of attack and I know that I'm capable of it now," the green eyed Gryffindor stated, clenching a fist. Hermione nodded and made a note. "You're better than me when it comes to Warding, you should focus on that. You've got the knowledge of Ancient Runes and Arithmancy to back it up which means you could go into Spell Crafting as well, I'd look into that if I were you."

"I've already made a start," the bushy haired witch said with a small grin, "Nothing concrete but I've already started work on a spell that uses magic to physically enhance the caster. Its a derivative of the old Norse and Scottish War Chants. There was surprisingly powerful Magic in them when evoked right."

Ariah nodded with a grin, "Come up with some good elemental based spells too, ones that we won't have to aim. It'd be pretty awesome to just point at a Death Eater and then have the attack come from a different angle. Like a stone spear jutting up beneath their feet or a fork of lightning from above them," she suggested with growing excitement. Hermione laughed as she noted the ideas down on a separate piece of paper, nodding fondly at the other girl's suggestions. The mood then sobered up, drastically, "I'm going to need to do a little studying on Dark Magic too," Ariah admitted, an anxious look on her face, "Would you... Spot for me while I do it? I don't want anything to suck me in. I only need to know how far he's delved and how I can counter it."

There was no doubt just who she was referring to and to the Gryffindor, she could easily see the logic in her friend's choice and she equally felt reassured by her honesty and her request to be watched while doing it. Dark Magic was a disturbing thing, it changed a person, twisted them from the soul outwards and finally poisoned their magic and then their personality. By the time their personalities go through a twisted change, it was already too late, they were corrupt right down to the core. Hence why so many Dark Lords were killed instead of arrested, Grindelwald was the only one who had not been killed because he did not use the Dark Arts. Not a single Unforgivable had passed through his Wand, which made him all the more frightening in the History Books, he didn't need to use Magic to make something like World War 2 happen.

She nodded solemnly, "Of course I will Harry. I would have demanded to anyway," she told him primly as she rummaged for another book, "We should also look into using Potions in combat, either as Catalysts for certain spells or as a nasty surprise for those who may not have the same level of magical power as who they're facing," she continued as if the potentially hazardous subject of Dark Magic hadn't been brought up.

Ariah grinned in relief before reapplying herself to the conversation, "Agreed. We should also look at Wizarding Law. The Pureblood faction have already got moles in almost every Department they deem worth it, they're probably already pushing Laws through, we'll need to figure out how to counter-act them or at least use the loopholes in them."

They continued like that long into the night, making plans, decisions, plotting. They passed a message back to Reborn before heading to bed. Tomorrow was going to be the first day of Boot Camp and as Ariah stared at the ceiling of her room, she found herself grinning fiercely.

She was changing, she could feel it in her body, mind and magic.

This was the next step in the evolution. Voldemort wouldn't know what hit him by the time she got through his his sorry pale arse.

000

And chapter finished!

The Rabid Plotkitten could not be ignored. I apologise my friends. I planned to update Firefly but Wintertide just kept clawing at my brain and demanding attention.

Moving onto the Shimon Arc in the next chapter, this was a very difficult Arc for me. I was tempted to by-pass it all together but then I remembered... this will be a fantastic opportunity to show just what Ariah can do.

A little bit of Ron introspection. I hope you enjoyed it, I wanted to make him more than a two dimensional character or just a stereotypical Gryffindor Sidekick. Hopefully this gave him some much deserved depth.

Can you tell who he chose in the end?