The Ordinary Life of a Sidekick

Chapter Fourteen: Untruths

"So, Mr Weasley," began McGonagall, after clearing her throat rather vigorously. She looked quite uncomfortable stood beside Dumbledore, opposite Ron, the ticking of the clock behind her punctuating her every word. "What are your plans for furthering your education?"

Ron blinked. Surely this wasn't a question - he wanted to continue at Hogwarts, obviously. "Er, Hogwarts. I still want to do the last two years."

For a moment, she looked hesitant, before shooting a furtive look at the headmaster, who was stood like a sparkly beacon in his pale mauve robes against the wooden background of the Burrow's kitchen. It was so odd to have him in his kitchen, the clock still ticking away in the back of Ron's mind and a pensive expression on Dumbledore's face that clouded his blue gaze.

His family, (just Bill, Fleur and his father, since his mum and sister were still in their rooms. He couldn't blame them for freaking out at first; they just needed time to adjust, Ron had tried console himself) were sat in the living room talking about Merlin knows what.

He could make a pretty good guess, though.

"I'm afraid that might not be possible," McGonagall responded calmly.

He stilled. "What?"

"We're... just concerned about the other students, Mr Weasley," her crisp tone doing nothing to steady the nerves swirling unbidden within his mind. He could practically hear Mordecai's voice, didn't I tell you they wouldn't let a vampire in Hogwarts? Ron always thought the madman had been wrong. But... was he?

He wondered when that voice would go away. It had only been a few short hours since Mordecai had been pushed away, but it felt like an eternity. His life before being turned had always been odd, even for a magical one - and then after that fateful night when he had been bitten, things went bad.

Entirely off the fucking off the rails, in fact. But again, after telling everyone what had really happened to him everything had shifted again. His world was upended, again. Torn up and mashed back together with all of the eloquence of a toddler. Puzzle pieces moving into place he hadn't even known existed and creating a picture Ron couldn't have anticipated in his wildest dreams.

"I- I can't go back to Hogwarts?" His voice was thin, strangled, and again a voice clanged in his ears telling him to get it together, and to stop being such an impertinent child. Mordecai was gone; things were good again, peaceful, quiet. But so far, the quiet had been almost suffocating. Things hadn't gotten better now that the monster was gone, that the threat had been extinguished.

Ron wanted to scream until he couldn't hear himself anymore.

Dumbledore peered at him through the wrought gold frames of his round lenses, and adjusted them; the odd, striking thought gone from his head was gone almost instantly with a distraction. "Were you hoping you would be able to?" He said slowly.

He swallowed and licked his lips. Unecessary, but out of habit. "Yeah. I know, it's a bit- well, dangerous, but I wanted to finish school."

Professor McGonagall nodded, like she understood. "Right. Well, if that's not possible I am happy to organise a tutor for you to come here instead."

He pulled a face without thinking much of it, and she raised an eyebrow.

"Um, I- I'd prefer the first option, if that's all right with you." He backtracked. "But it's not, is it?" It was written all over their faces.

She pursed her lips, and stood from the kitchen chair, beckoning Albus over.

"We're going to have a word outside. Wait here for a moment, Weasley," she told him before they went into the living room and cast a spell behind her, making it so that all Ron could hear was an irritating buzzing that grew louder when he tried to focus in on it, completely muffling their conversation.

Well, maybe they had learned after the disaster of an Order meeting this morning, in which he heard every word.

After Ginny had slunk back to her room, and Ron proved again that he was what he said he was yet again (they still couldn't entirely believe it) and his father had coaxed his mum back his room to rest (shooting him a look that Ron found entirely unreadable), Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore had turned up. At the door of the Burrow.

The complete bafflement he felt at seeing his teachers on his doorstep quickly vanished when they asked to speak to him. And then they were here, discussing the possibility of him never returning to Hogwarts.

It frightened him rather a lot. Not the sharp, pungent kind of petrification like he had felt when Mordecai was staring him down, but a bubbling anxiety that simmered like poison. Bleeding into his throat and tying it up, seeping into his legs until they felt like lead. Completely coating him until he was sure fear permeated his every pore.

But he boxed it all away. Pushed it right to the edge of the Quidditch pitch up in his head, and told it to shut up. It worked a little. He could at least hold on until he got to his room again, where he would sit there and ignore it some more.

But honestly, he was glad the Order had left again. On the whole many of the few who came were quiet, and those that did express their opinions were not fans of Ron's new form. Half of them practically expected him to turn around and kill them at any moment, he could tell just by their heartbeats.

And that was the scariest thing of all - what if, the hunger grew to be too much? If he just snapped one day? If the flimy wall of his morals crumbled, and he drained them until they were as empty as he felt, until their eyes were as empty as the girl's - Del, the other one with her had called her, short for what-

He shuddered, and raked his hands over his scalp, harder than necessary. It didn't matter though, he could hardly feel it. Ron didn't blink for the fear of what he might see when he closed his eyes.

Merlin, it all just hurt so much sometimes.

The door opened, Dumbledore and McGonagall's conversation apparently over, and he hastily dropped his arms to his sides as they re-entered the room.

"Have you decided?" He couldn't help asking as soon as they drew nearer. Professor McGonagall looked hesitant, and immediately the hope that had flared in Ron's stomach was extinguished.

"We've decided to think about it more," she eventually said, and behind her Dumbledore had that stupidly cryptive gaze fixed on Ron. Like he could see right through him. Ron shivered like he was cold, the feeling like he was being examined slowly dissipating as he looked down, before the heated gaze could reach its climax. But he hadn't been cold for months.

"Okay." Suddenly, a thought struck him out of nowhere. He snapped his head up from his trainers. "What about Harry? And Hermione? What am I going to tell them if I can't go back?"

McGonagall looked unprepared, face sinking into an unhealthy ashen grey. "I- I don't know Weasley." She nodded at him. "That's- we need to talk some more, with your parents and with the Order before we can make a decision."

"Fine." His voice felt different like it wasn't his own. Like he was dreaming, or underwater. "Um, okay."

She nodded briskly once more. "I need to go and discuss something with your father, Weasley," she said in a clipped tone, marching out of the room and voices beginning in the kitchen.

He was left alone with Dumbledore. Who raised his head at him, and surveyed him quietly down his nose, waves of silver flowing down his sides and back. Ron could centre in on his heartbeat, if he wanted, it stuttering somewhat (was that normal) and suddenly his nose caught the scent of decay. Like a burning forest.

It was like the headmaster knew exactly when he caught the odd smell, and smiled at him; it was small, and more genuine that way.

"How are you, Ronald?"

He was surprised. Everyone else had been calling him the vampire, or 'Weasley'. It got a little odd after a while.

"Er, fine." Dumbledore gave him a doubtful look, and Ron squirmed under the stare. "I'm fine," he reiterated.

"Of course," he replied quietly, thinly. Was his voice hoarser this year? Ron couldn't be sure, but last year he hadn't had supernatural powers. It was difficult to know what had changed and what hadn't sometimes. But Dumbledore... he looked far more fatigued than he had done before.

And then there was that smell - was this what it was like when people got old? When people were close to... dying? Before he could process any more of his thoughts, Professor McGonagall returned with his father.

She gave him a long look, and his father's seemed hollow in comparison. A front. He had been quiet since they had talked in the hall, barely saying a word to anyone and instead choosing to sit in the kitchen with a cup of tea, but that was merely an occupation. Something to do, something to sip. Often times his father wouldn't move for minutes on end, heart ticking by and giving something Ron to steady his own nerves with. It was a comfort, strangely, rather than a promise of a meal.

"I can control myself," Ron said to McGonagall, her gaze snapping to meet his again almost instantly. "I can do it - I can be around everyone else and not do anything. As long as I have my needs met."

If she was unnerved by his light wording of his palate, she didn't show it. "Of course, Weasley," she said in a chipped tone. "But there's always a risk. And that's what we're worried about."

And pity shone in the depths of her eyes, her tone sunk. Like she was sorry this had happened to him, and sorry it got in the way of everything.

Yeah - Ron was too.

His father turned and looked at them. "Thank you for seeing us," he said, nodding at the teachers.

"We'll show ourselves out. Thank you, Arthur," Dumbledore told him somberly and his father jerked his head in a kind of curt nod. The Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress passed Ron's dad in the door, and a few moments later they were gone - the shutting of the front door and sharp pop of apparition signalling their departure.

His father sighed, and Ron felt like sighing too. Bloody hell; he might not be able to go to Hogwarts.

His father didn't say anything. Ron grimaced further.

"What do you think? About me going to Hogwarts?"

This wasn't going to be good. His family's reaction hadn't been ideal, but he was holding out for them to... change. At least a bit. He just wanted to talk to his mum again; Ron steadied himself for disappointment, and looked down at the floor, at his beaten trainers, and the worn rug beneath them.

He knew it. He just knew this wasn't going to go well. But almost nothing would make him go back to when his family didn't know what was going on with him - when he was faced with questions every second of the day asking what was wrong with him. It was a relief; a burden lifted; an iron weight removed from his chest that they all knew now.

It even lessened some of the guilt buried deep inside. But not all of it - they still didn't know about the blonde girl laying dead in the forest. And they never would.

He was a murderer. It was hard to believe, sometimes, looking in the mirror that he had done that. And then at once a cacaphony of wallowing despair settled inside his brain and oh Merlin, oh Merlin- he had killed someone, how could he still walk around like nothing, like nothing happened-

And sometimes it would take a few hours for the stream to slow. But he was always all right afterwards. Mostly. Until the next hit came.

But, yeah. Ron had never been the best with secrets (other than the few obvious times) and it had definitely been wearing down on him, sneaking around all the time. It felt like he couldn't breathe, often times. So he was glad he could stop pretending now.

The questions, though, they had been annoying.

His father had gotten the opportunity, earlier, to sit him down and ask him more questions. Fleur and Bill, who had to be somewhere else)

"So how long had you been meeting Mordecai?"

"Can you sleep?" (He had been vague about that one).

"Can you eat?"

"So you really don't have a heartbeat?"

The last one took him by surprise, and Ron stuttered, realising he wasn't in his memories of the morning anymore. He turned around and blinked at his sister, who despite having vaguely red-rimmed eyes look far more put together than this morning.

"What?"

"You- your pulse... you don't have one, right? It said so in my Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook."

"Oh." His eyes widenened in surprise, and he said - casually, far more casual than he felt - "Do you want to come and see?" He held out his wrist in offering.

Even more surprisingly, she actually obliged and skipped downstairs, skipped, Ron couldn't believe the contrast from earlier to now - and arrived in front of him with a final sweep of her hair.

For a second, she was hesitant. But then, without a single tremor, a single tremble, she stretched out two fingers and placed them at the base of his wrist without fear. She hissed.

"You're really cold, you know that?" Ginny told him, face in a worn smile, and then she swallowed. "There's... nothing," she muttered, blue eyes wide as she glanced down at his still arm entirely devoid of a pulse. It was just perfectly still, unnaturally so, probably.

"How didn't I notice?" She said, face crumpling before she scowled, eyes turning fierce, and her expression straightened out again. "That is freaky, though."

"Tell me about it," he muttered.

After a minute, she snorted. "I just can't get used to you like this, with your freaky red eyes."

He nodded. "Yeah."

"And your reflection? What about your reflection? Oh! And can you like, hear everything too?"

Merlin, he was going to be here all day. But he smiled, and turned slightly to see his father looking significantly less worried at the appearance of his sister, and that she seemed to be okay.

He nodded, tone warmer. "Uh, yeah, I suppose I can." It was unnerving, and a conversation he never thought he'd be having with his family... but, well, here he was.

Back with them again. And it looked like things were going to be okay.

Not perfect, but as good as they could be.

It all depended on what happened next.

"So, how are things?"

Mordecai hunched over further, the cold metal of the telephone box pressing against his shoulder. He paused.

"I'm not doing this anymore," he spoke into the grimy mouthpiece. It was disgusting, but the anonymity of a telephone box was absolutely necessary. He moved again, barely noticing the metal dug into his back.

A beat, and for a moment he thought the line had gone dead. And then, "What?"

"You heard me - I'm not doing this anymore. I'm old, I have no need for work, and I want to go and disappear in peace." He had been thinking of going back to the house, actually. But no one else needed to know that.

"Are you joking, Mordecai?"

Hearing his given name on the caller's lips irked him. He scowled almost automatically.

"No, I'm not, 'Strange. And I don't care how much money you offer me, so don't even try."

"What, you on some kind of moral high-ground now? Can't threaten a teenager into shutting up for a bit of cash anymore?"

"I just don't see the point. Why would I piss off a kid associated with such a powerful organisation?"

They snorted. "So, that's why you backed out. The Order know now, don't they? And I trust you kept my name out of it."

"'Course. But they know it was your crowd."

"You should join us, you know," the voice replied, light tone edging on temptation. "You'd fit in well here, Mordecai."

"You know I don't do that kind of thing."

"But why? We could offer protection from the Order-"

"He'd never go for it - I'm barely a Muggle-born, and I never went to Hogwarts. I'm filth according to You-Know-Who. Good thing he doesn't know exactly who took on this job."

They sniffed. "Yes, well you can't help that, can you? Psycho family with that vampire-hunter sister of yours-"

"Can we get back to the subject?" He bit out gruffly.

They sighed. "Perhaps you wouldn't be such a good fit if you're going to get all sensitive about Alyssa, or Airen, or whatever the hell she was called. But are you sure you won't at least consider?"

"No - it was one job, and I regret it. Don't try and contact me again after this, 'Strange. I mean it this time. This job is my last one, you can't call me for any more favours. Got it?"

They were silent for a moment, before laughter suddenly erupted across the line. Rough and callous.

"You'll be back, Mordecai, you always are-"

He slammed down the receiver before another obnoxious syllable could slip out.

Ron stood in his room, glancing outside at the chickens puttering and squawking about the garden.

It was well into the afternoon, and whilst his family had been having lunch, he had slunk away to escape having to eat again (it was rather unpleasant). But lunch had gone by, and here he was, alone again. It felt good after all that had happened; his ears satiated by the silence rather than the angry, and then hurt arguments and confrontation.

His mum was still in her room, the door muffled, and he hated thinking of her in there alone. But he supposed he had to give her time to adjust, especially if it meant he still might be able to go to Hogwarts in a few weeks, which on this track didn't look like it was going to happen.

Oh Merlin, he couldn't imagine him being stuck here whilst the rest of them went back to school; Ginny, Harry and Hermione all finishing Hogwarts with him still stuck in the Burrow.

He couldn't be here forever. He just couldn't.

Fed up of staying in his room, he went out into the hall and began walking about, glancing into different rooms just for something to do.

And then, Ron paused, suddenly becoming acutely aware of another person in the hallway. He turned, and saw his mother on the stairs with an unreadable expression on her face.

All right, couple things:

Number one, no, I didn't spell 'Strange wrong. Apostrophe included. Two, again I'll say that all reactions to Ron's discovery are not final. So before you go complaining just wait a second. Three, Hermione will be coming next chapter (finally lol).

I wanted to thank you all for the comments, because holy fuck there are so many. It's kind of mad. And finally, I deleted my other story because I wasn't happy with it at all. It wasn't something I was happy with sharing anymore, so I took it down. I apologise if you liked it, but I probably won't be going back on my decision. So sorry about that.

This story will not be taken down, so no one worry 'bout that.

Thank you all for reading! And I know this was a long wait for a pretty short chapter, so I'm sorry about that too.

-Tea33 :)