Fate

by TheTrueSpartan

When Ron discovers that he can see the future, his entire fate is thrown off of its course. A story about adventure, friendship, growing up, and pushing forward through hardships. This story will get darker as it progresses, just like the original Harry Potter novels. It will cover all Seven Years of Hogwarts, but mostly from Ron's perspective. No Mary Sues, no Character bashing.

132. Chapter 132 - Revelations

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Chapter 132 is finally done! Firstly, let me just apologize, I didn't think this Chapter would be so hard to get out. Life has just been taking me to the wood shed a lot, lately, and I dropped the ball in a lot of places as a result. Nevertheless, this story will not be abandoned, I was only making a joke! Which then almost became a reality... Did I jinx myself?

Please Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, and I do not intend to make any money off of this. Harry Potter is the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling , and I take no credit of it whatsoever.

I was also inspired by Demon Eyes Laharl's: THE RED KNIGHT! and also from Random-Fruitcake04's: CHOICES! I hope you check them out as well because they are genuinely very good stories.

There's also another Ron story out that's really good so far! It's called 'There and Back Again', and it's written by Chuchi Otaku. Please, go check it out! I've certainly enjoyed reading it!

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Fate

Chapter 132 - Revelations

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 13th March, 1994 (King Solomon's Bakery – Near Midnight)

"Work?" Ron asked, not moving. "I don't work for you…"

She turned around at that, her expression of indifference still in place. The Elders… They're not my friends. I can't trust them-

"It can be you, or, it can be your next incarnation," Fate said simply. "Choose wisely, Champion. You are expendable."

Her words stung, mostly because they were true… He was nothing, and they both knew it.

"You'd just destroy me?" Ron asked, meeting her gaze. "Just like that?"

"Yes."

"Well, then…" Ron muttered, swallowing his fear down. Expendable, eh? Golden tart… After everything I've been through because of you?! "Put your money where your mouth is, if that's the case. Destroy me, go on… I fucking dare you."

Fate made no movement whatsoever, even her uncaring gaze remained unchanged in the face of Ron's defiance. What is she waiting for-?

Ron's thoughts were jarred by a sharp pain in his chest.

"Ug… Wha…?" Ron tried to speak, but the pain became worse with each sound he made.

He was on his knees before he knew it, coughing wildly as he tore at his collar. What did she do to me?! He felt something warm flood his throat, forcing him to cough and paint the floor red. Fuck, it hurts! My chest feels like it's on fire!

"Bit..ch…" Ron wheezed, dropping onto his side as his eyes rolled into his skull. I can't breathe… She's really going to off me…

"Stage 4 Mesothelioma; it will be a slow death," Fate said. "Will you continue to resist?"

"Fuck… you…" Ron managed, his vision fading. What the… fuck…? This is how it ends… for me…?

"Perhaps the removal of your lungs will change your mind?" Fate asked.

The terrible pain in his chest vanished suddenly, replaced by a feeling of hollowness and discomfort. Ron, however, could only truly focus on the complete lack of oxygen he was being subjected to, which quickly ended with him flailing about like a fish out of water. For what felt like hours, Ron jerked and contorted on the mess-ridden floor, until eventually; his body became incapable of movement, his dimming eyes fixed on Fudge's corpse. How am I still alive…? Just… die, old boy… How hard can it be?

---

?

"Save Harry James Potter, Champion," Fate's voice echoed within his mind. "Without him, this world will be lost."

Ron woke up with a jerk, air invading his lungs and expanding his chest until his ribs hurt. What the fuck is going on?! Ron shot up to his feet, fear and panic gripping his very soul. Where am I?!

He stood within a relatively dark room; however, as his eyes began to adjust, he quickly noticed that there were faint, yet colourful, lights above him. These lights turned out to be the familiar planets of the Solar System, much to Ron's disbelief and astonishment. Planets… I'm standing directly beneath Uranus… Ron stood motionless as he took in the sight above him; the flawless emulation of the Solar System was floating above him. The planets even have their respective moons… It's beautiful, Blaise would love to see this.

Once again, Ron wondered where he was, and given his last memories of being tortured by Fate; Ron came to a simple solution. I'm dead, and this is the afterlife. She destroyed me, just as she said she would.

Ron felt relief and happiness wash over him; it was finally over. I'm finally fucking free, thank Merlin! And, I'm not trapped with the Entity, I think-!

"Ron?! Get down!" a girl screamed; she sounded awfully like Ginny. …the fuck?

"Gin?" Ron turned around; though his clumsy feet nearly threw him off balance. Woah… What the fuck? Moving feels weird for some reason-

"There he is!" a man yelled; he had just sprinted into the room. "Get that Blood-Traitor, he's Potter's best friend, I hear!" Pardon?!

"Oi, what the fuck did you just call me?!" Ron demanded, reaching for his wand. There it is! "Say that again, cunt!"

The man went silent, looking taken aback. Ron took the chance to study the man's face, not recognizing it, but wondering who gave the sharp-nosed bigot a bloody lip. I'm really fucking confused, now. Where am I?! And why does my wand feel so different?! Ron pulled the wand up to his face, inspecting it up-close. This isn't my fucking wand!

"Weasley!" came another familiar voice, and Ron looked back ahead.

His eyes nearly popped out of his head at what he saw; a man was approaching him from behind the bigoted prick, disguised in black robes and a skull-like mask. Of course, there's a Death-Eater here as well, because fuck me, right?! What the fuck is happening?! Oh, fuck, he's getting closer!

"Stay right there, bitch!" Ron snapped, causing the man to stop and tilt his head. "Tell me what's going on right now! Or, I'll fuck you up!"

Ron felt his throat ache slightly, his voice was deeper than usual as well. I'm starting to get scared; something is really wrong here… I thought Fate killed me… What did she fucking do to me?!

"What did you hit him with, Travers?" the Death-Eater looked back to his partner, the man with the broken lip. Travers? Wait… That's fucking Philip Travers, Emilia's mental uncle! What manner of shit have I fallen into?!

"Confundus Charm," Travers laughed, he sounded twisted.

"Ron!" Ginny cried from somewhere in the dark.

Panic shot up Ron's entire body, his sister sounded hurt in a room with two Death-Eaters in it. If they've touched her, I'll fucking kill them both!

"Ginny?!" Ron called, looking around frantically. "Gin?! Where are you?!"

"Just kill him already, Nott," Travers chuckled. "He's lost it."

"Kill me?" Ron looked towards the masked Death-Eater. "Nott… Cornelius Nott? Theo's father, eh?"

"Hold on, what the fuck…?" Travers blinked, slowly grinning at Nott's back. "Your son is friends with this Blood-Traitor?" That's twice he's called me that. That's two kicks straight in his balls.

"My son would not spare his spit for this mongrel, even if he were dying of thirst!" Nott hissed, aiming his wand at Ron.

"Woah, that actually hurt my feelings a little," Ron followed Nott's example, wondering whose wand he was in possession of. It feels weak, like it doesn't have a heartbeat. Where are my fucking wands, then?

"You dare imply that my son would associate with you?" Nott sounded truly disgusted. "Do you have a death wish, boy?!"

"Your son fucking loves me, you tool," Ron said spitefully, deciding to kill Nott Snr. Theo will get over it, and if he doesn't… Then, so be it. His wants are not more important than everyone's needs, and Cornelius Nott needs to die! For everyone he's hurt and killed; he has to pay!

"I knew that runt liked boys!" Travers was laughing, running his hand through his black and silver hair. "I called it; Bella owes me so much-!"

"Silence, Travers!" Nott barked, turning his back to Ron. Now's my chance! Cutis Terra!

Ron felt his muscles harden into steel, but for some reason; he felt stronger than he ever had before, as if every muscle was now empowered. And even more strangely; he didn't feel as taxed as he usually would have either. What the fuck?! I like this! Lumos Solem!

"Something's off-" Travers suddenly stopped sniggering, but it was too late.

The room was suddenly flushed with golden light, and the screams of Travers and Nott. That's for Emilia, you fucking cunts! Ron turned his head, spreading the damage as much as he could. Aim for Pluto as well, bury them! By the time Ron was finished, there was nothing but debris and dust left before him. Bloody hell… I've never been able to use those two Spells so easily… What is this? My body is stronger all of a sudden?

Ron undid Cutis Terra, reluctantly looking down at his arms. His eyes widened again; these were not his fucking arms! They were too long! And his hands… These were the hands of a grown wizard!

"What in the fuck…?" Ron muttered, taking slow steps back. "Whose body is this? Am I possessing someone?" Is that why my Spells are stronger? Because this body is more developed?

Ron's feet suddenly shook, and he fell onto all four with a whimper. Okay… I know this pain; I've felt it too often… This bloke isn't as fit as me, and his body isn't used to Wandless Magic… Ron gagged, mostly out of hysteria and stress. Where am I?! Did Fate send me here?!

"Save Harry James Potter, Champion," Fate's voice echoed within his mind, once again. "Without him, this world will be lost." Fate?!

Ron looked up, breathing heavily and shaking like a leaf. What did you do?! You fucking bitch! What do you mean by 'this world'?! Where am I?!

There was no response, and Ron let out a frustrated scream at the remaining planets above him. Damn you! What did I ever do to you?! Why are you doing these horrible things to me?!

"Ron?" Ginny called again, sounding much weaker this time. Oh, Ginny!

"Ginny?" Ron stumbled up to his feet, limping towards her voice. "Where are you?!"

"Here," Ginny muttered, from behind a tipped-over table.

Ron moved around it, stopping in his tracks when he saw an unconscious Luna leaning into Ginny's side. Both girls were sitting against the table, their clothes dirty and a little bloody. Who did this to them?!

"Ginny?! Luna?!" Ron was on his knees within a heartbeat, gently moving Luna's hair out of her face. Blood… There's a gash on her forehead. Fuck! "What happened, Ginny? Are you hurt as well?"

"My ankle…" Ginny grit out, clutching at her left leg. "Luna and I were hiding up on Pluto, but Travers… He found us, grabbed my ankle… Luna tried to get him off me, but we fell-"

"Ginny, where are we?" Ron cut in; he couldn't look away from her face. And why do you look older than me…?

Ginny frowned at him, her fingers digging into her leg.

"Honestly, Ron… Just shut up," Ginny hissed, surprising Ron. "My leg is killing me! And Luna… She's not moving… Do something!" Right!

"On it," Ron said, moving into action.

He had a million questions, but right now, Luna and Ginny needed help. Nothing else mattered. I'll get my answers soon enough, I'm sure of it. Ron helped Luna sit up straight, allowing Ginny to crawl away and focus on her sprained ankle. That cut looks bad, she must've hit her head when they fell.

"Irrigandum," Ron chanted, aiming the tip of the wand right above Luna's cut.

Green, sparkly disinfectant ran down Luna's face, cleaning the wound but causing her visible discomfort. That should be enough, I reckon.

"Ronald?" Luna stirred, her eyes fluttering at him. "What's going on?"

"Don't move," Ron said, focusing on his work. "Suo."

Blue, silk-like material oozed out of the wand like tooth-paste, coating the cut on her forehead. She winced as it hardened, sealing the wound shut in the process. Now, let's help Ginny.

"Try to stand, I need to help Gin," Ron told Luna, crawling over to Ginny's side. "Hey… You okay, Gin?" Oh, who did this to you?! The cunts!

"I'm delightful, Ron…" Ginny groaned, lying on her back. "My foot's swollen up, my ribs hurt, and you're-"

"Is now the right time to sass me?" Ron asked, and Ginny let out a shaky breath. "I'm trying to help you."

"Sorry…" Ginny muttered, fingers still digging into her left leg.

"Let me see that," Ron moved closer to her leg. "Lumos!"

The wand fought him at first, but it eventually gave him the light he needed to inspect the dark purple ankle. Ron carefully rolled up the rest of her jeans, most of her calf was bruised as well. Fucking hell… Travers nearly ripped her leg off, the bastard! Why is he even here?! Wherever the fuck 'here' is…

"Remind me, what are we doing in this place, again?" Ron asked, using a Non-Verbal Torpor to numb Ginny's leg. I don't know how to heal this kind of injury. I'll have to carry her out of here. Hopefully, we can get her to a Healer before it gets worse.

"My leg!" Ginny shot up onto her elbows, her eyes wide. "I can't feel it, Ron!"

"Shut it," Ron hissed, what if there were more Death-Eaters running about? "I just numbed it, Ginny. Keep your voice down. Are you thick?"

"Numbed it?" Ginny blinked. "You know how to do that?" Pardon?

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Ron frowned, his eyes locking onto hers. "Did you hit your head, is that it?"

"What's going on?" Luna whispered, crawling over much like Ron had.

"That's the question of the day, Luna," Ron sighed out, looking towards his more reasonable sister. Who also looks older than me…? I'm about to start screaming, that's how fucked this is.

"Do you think Harry made it out?" Luna asked Ron instead. "With the Prophecy?" Huh?! Harry's here?! Is that why I'm here? To… protect him? What the fuck?

"What Prophecy?" Ron asked, and Luna just stared at him. "What? What fucking Prophecy? The one Trelawny made?"

"Travers hit Ron with something, Ginny," Luna said suddenly. For fuck's sake! "He's clearly very confused-"

"Then, how about you explain what's happening, eh?" Ron asked, feeling more frustrated than ever. "Why are there Death-Eaters coming after us-?"

They suddenly heard shuffling feet, followed by the sounds of debris being cleared out. Shit, they survived? I should've made sure they were dead. I'm an idiot.

"Stay quiet," Ron whispered, moving away from his sisters. "Stay here, and protect each other-"

"Where are you going?" Ginny whispered frantically. "Ron, no…"

"I'm just having a look," Ron whispered back, peeking over the toppled table. What was that Spell, again? "Cattus Oculis Meis."

Ron tapped his eyelids with the alien wand, and it was quick to resist him. Fuck… Work, please. My sisters are in danger, you bastard. He tried again and again, but it refused to assist him. You want to play that way? Ron tossed the wand away with an angry frown; it could rot down in this dark hole for all he cared. Piece of useless shit! What good is a wand if it doesn't work for a wizard in need?!

"Ron, what are you doing?" Ginny groaned, crawling over to his side. "Did you just throw your wand away?"

Ron looked her over, easily noticing that she was close to shaking out of her skin. She must be so terrified… I don't know what the fuck is happening, but I'm not going to let anything happen to them! I have to get them out of here!

"Everything's going to be all right," Ron promised, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "I'm going to distract him, while you two sneak out of here-"

"Ron, you can't do this alone-" Luna tried.

"You need to carry her out of here," Ron told Luna, jerking his head towards Ginny's swollen ankle. "Take her right now, Luna… I'll come when I can, trust me."

"They're Death-Eaters, Ron-" Ginny grabbed his hand.

"Yes, and they'll kill you both," Ron gave her hand a squeeze, trying to get through to her. "Just go, please. Luna, take her and get out of here."

"We'll find Harry," Luna scuttled over to Ginny, grabbing her by the shoulders. Harry's here too?! "Ginny, let's go-"

"I'm not leaving my brother, Luna," Ginny jerked away from Luna, bumping the table in the process. Fuck, they definitely heard that!

"Oi, brat!" Travers yelled from across the room. "You broke my bloody wand!" Did I? Good. "I'll kill you!"

"Go!" Ron ordered, moving over the table. "Go on, I'll find you after!"

Without hesitation, Ron ran back over to where the Death-Eaters should've been buried alive. Phillip Travers… I don't know much about him, aside from the fact that Emilia hates him above all others. As for Nott, how the fuck could he have survived that? He's so old and frail… Fuck, I should've made sure that they were both dead. I'm an idiot!

Ron came to an abrupt stop, spotting Travers trying to summon Nott's wand at the centre of the wreckage. He was mumbling under his breath, looking murderous at best, and downright unhinged at worst. Ron couldn't help but swallow thickly, he hadn't faced a challenge like this before. An actual Death-Eater… Here I go, Ginny and Luna. Make it count, please. I can't use much Wandless Magic; this body isn't even mine. It doesn't feel right at all. Whichever Ron I'm possessing; he's just not built like I am.

"Accio rock," Ron whispered, summoning a sizable chunk of stone from the mess around him. "Depulso!"

The rock whistled through the air, heading straight for Travers' back; however, the Dark Wizard turned suddenly, batting the projectile away with a flick of his hand. Oh, fuck… How did he move so fast? This isn't going to end well for me, I can already tell.

"I heard you were reckless, but you must be mental!" Travers spat out, his left eye twitching. Not twitching… There's blood in it! I busted his head open!

"You've heard of me?" Ron asked, circling for a better position. There's hardly any cover-

"Potter's lapdog," Travers nodded, a spiteful smirk overtaking his rage. "We've all heard of you, and I have to admit; you are a bigger disgrace than your Blood-Traitor parents. Aligning yourself with Potter and his Mud-Bloods? Pathetic." Wow, he's got a mouth on him. Does he think I'll fly into a rage and charge him? I'm not dying until I find out what the fuck is going on!

"Harry and I are mates, sure, but we're not that close," Ron scoffed. "Lapdog? Who the fuck would say something that stupid? I'm my own man, and you're a cunt, mate."

"What did you say?" Travers sneered, eyeing Ron's movements like a hawk.

"We're not that close," Ron repeated. "Harry's a decent enough bloke, but only if you're not me. That's the truth." Oh, I didn't swear at him. "You prick." Done.

"Ha…" Travers shook his head in disbelief. "An arrogant little shit, aren't you? I'm going to enjoy this-"

"Incendio," Ron chanted, feeling his left-hand twitch before becoming as hot as molten lava. "Depulso!"

Ron aimed his left palm forward, sending a jet of flames at Travers. The Dark Wizard reacted quickly, leaping forward and landing with his palms outstretched. The roaring fire parted from the middle, unable to touch Travers. Motherfucker-!

"Is that it?!" Travers barked, jumping back again and lifting his palms to the ceiling.

The jet of flames jerked upwards, tearing themselves away from Ron's control and smashing through the ceiling. Bloody hell! Run for it! There was a loud crash, followed by the ground shaking as Ron scrambled for safety. There were far too many close encounters in the next few seconds, but Ron survived, even if he was covered in cuts and welts by the end of it. That crazy bastard… Did he kill himself-?

"Weasley!" Travers howled, leaping into view with a manic grin. Disillusionment Charm?! He followed me-!

Travers grabbed Ron by the throat, yanking him into the air and slamming him neck-first into the floor. The wind left his lungs, while his soul threatened to part with his body. He could hear Travers laughing as he desperately tried to stand back up, falling over repeatedly due to his new body being taxed by Wandless Magic and a lack of oxygen.

"I can't believe you offed Nott…" Travers ran his hand through his hair, again; still laughing. "Fucking Cornelius Nott… Dead in a heartbeat! What the fuck do I tell Rodolphus? He'll throw a fit!"

"Twisted cunts…" Ron groaned, slowly recovering. Get up, Ron! Kick his fucking arse!

"Still running that mouth, hm?" Travers whispered almost gently. "I admire that, however, for making me admire your ilk; you'll need to die." Cutis Terra!

Travers went to kick Ron in the stomach as he was on all fours, but with his strength returned and augmented by his Magic; Ron was fast enough to grab Travers' ankle. I have to act fast! Or, I'm fucking dead!

"Oh, got some fight left in you?" Travers sneered.

"More than enough for you!" Ron twisted Travers' ankle, grinning when he heard a loud crack.

"Fuuuck-!" Travers started screaming, but Ron silenced him by yanking his leg viciously; popping something out of place in the process. "Gods, my fucking leg-!"

"Die, Death-Eater!" Ron shot up to his feet, quickly bringing his heel down towards Travers' face.

"Oi, oi! NO!" Travers managed to move his head out of the way, surprising both wizards. Quick little shit! He's got a high tolerance for pain-

Travers shoved his right palm up, pummelling Ron in the sternum with a Wandless Depulso. Despite Ron's augmentation; he felt winded again at the impact, tumbling back until he lost his footing and fell onto his back. Feels like a Centaur kicked me, and then his tribe fucking trampled me… My body… No, this cunt's body is killing me…

"Who the fuck… are you…?" Travers chuckled and coughed, all the while crawling towards Ron with a murderous smile. Oh, fuck!

Ron felt his heart climb into his throat; watching Travers' unnerving desire to murder him was definitely taking its toll on Ron's mental fortitude. He's relentless, and he's just ignoring what I did to his leg-

"I'm going to kill you," Travers sang, grabbing at Ron's feet. Fuck! "You're going to die all by your lonesome, Weasley!"

"Get off!" Ron barked, throwing fatigued kicks at Travers' face. "You crazy fuck!"

Travers climbed on top of Ron, punching and scratching his way up until he was holding Ron's head in his palms. For a brief moment, there was a horrifying glint in Travers' eyes, followed immediately by the sound of Ron's own skull being dashed against the floor.

Ron barely felt the impact; though, he was certain that his brain was leaking out of his ears.

"That's one!" Travers laughed, his perfectly trimmed fingernails digging into Ron's face.

"AGH! FUCK!" Ron shrieked; jerking back to his senses because of the fiery sensation all over his face.

"Pretty boy, give me that face!" Travers suddenly growled, smashing Ron's head against the floor again.

The dark room began to grow dimmer, but Ron kept trying to shove his hands in Travers' face. If he were to die, then he'd die fighting to the last breath. Buy them more time, Ron… Travers will find them if you die now! Cutis Terra!

"That's two-!" Travers started, but Ron suddenly clocked him right in the mouth; shattering his front teeth.

They both howled in agony; Travers because of his bloodied mouth, and Ron because there was a piece of Travers' front tooth lodged in-between his middle and index knuckles. This fucking body! Its Magic is stronger, but everything else is a fucking problem! Sweet Merlin, that hurts so fucking much! How did it break through my skin?! Fucking fuck!

Ron yanked the tooth-shard out, screaming again as his eyes burned from unshed tears. Why is this happening to me?! Fuck, someone please kill me!

"You… bas…tard…" Travers lisped and wheezed, making Ron flinch and curl up. "I can't… feel…" What?

Ron looked back to his enemy, and much to his surprise; he saw that Travers was finished. The Dark Wizard's limbs were trembling uncontrollably, while his head kept twitching to the right as chunky blood oozed endlessly from his bloodied mouth. Merlin… It's over… I got him…

"I'm… going to kill you," Ron grit out, grabbing a rock with his left hand. "I'll bash… your fucking head in…"

Travers let out a rough cough, blood spurting out of his mouth and covering his face. He still had no control over his limbs, and upon closer inspection; Ron saw that Travers' right leg was almost mangled. I hope that hurts!

"Phillip Travers," Ron hissed, pinning Travers down with his right elbow. "You're never going to hurt anyone ever again-"

Travers suddenly spat on Ron's face before breaking out into choked laughter, even if it seemed to cause him immense pain judging from his tears.

"Blood… Trai… tor…" Travers' teary eyes gleamed with malice. "Dog…"

"You're damn right," Ron snarled, bringing the rock down on Travers' temple. "A Blood-Traitor dog is going to beat you to death! Where's your 'superiority', now, huh?! Where's your fucking Master?!"

---

Ten Minutes Later

Ron limped through the dark corridors, tracking his sisters by sensing their Magic. They weren't far from him; however, they were no longer alone. They had either found Harry, or, the Death-Eaters had tracked them down before Ron could finish off Travers and Nott. Move faster, you fuck! Hurry! Ron feared the worst, but given the state of his host's body; he knew that he wouldn't be able to do much. He was still going to try, though, even if it got him, and his host, killed. My host… What the fuck?

From what he had gathered so far; he was possessing the body of a different Ronald Weasley. This other Ron was older, but not yet out of Hogwarts. His body wasn't as strong as Ron's, but this other Ron had a stronger Magical Core thanks to his age. This left Ron with very little options, especially because he didn't have a wand. I have to use my Magic sparingly, and I can't afford to get into a physical fight either.

Ron tucked his bloody right hand further into his stomach; the entire hand was now throbbing painfully, as if it were alive and wanted Ron to suffer. I'm almost there. I can feel them just around the corner. They're… running towards me?

Ron sensed that his sisters were nearing him quickly from the right, and not long after; he felt the presence of many more individuals chasing after them. Fuck me, those feral bastards must be the Death-Eaters. Ron limped faster, hopping around the corner with his eyes peeled.

"RON?!" Harry yelled; he was leading Luna, Ginny, and Neville right towards the surprised redhead. "Ginny! I found him!" There are Death-Eaters after them! "Run, mate! We have to get out of here!"

Ron turned around and began limping as fast as he could, his back burning from his injuries and fatigue. I'm going to kill Fate! Harry suddenly grabbed Ron's right arm, flung it over his shoulders, and then began carrying Ron towards the door at the end of the long hallway.

"What the fuck is going on, Harry?" Ron hissed, trying his hardest to keep up with Harry. "Don't grab my hand, you idiot!"

"What happened to you?!" Harry asked frantically, still dragging Ron with him. "Is that your blood? And your face…"

"Travers happened…" Ron grunted, cursing Harry for holding his injured hand so tightly. "He's dead, by the way, the cunt! I cracked his gourd open! Repeatedly, I might add!"

Harry blinked at him, looking truly shocked by the hatred evident in Ron's voice. Ron didn't notice, however, as he was too busy looking behind them in order to inspect his sisters. Ginny was looking ready to pass out, while Luna was looking as red as a tomato from the effort of carrying her helpless friend.

"Ron… You okay?!" Neville called out from behind Ginny and Luna, his nose was broken. Is that Hermione on his back?!

"Hermione?!" Ron called, but she remained motionless. What the fuck happened to her?! "What happened to her, Harry?"

"Dolohov-!" Harry started, a few feet away from the door, when another door across the hallway burst open, and three more Death-Eaters sped in. Shit!

"There they are!" Bellatrix Lestrange shrieked, her mad eyes locking onto Ron's for a moment. Fucking hell! Why is this loony bitch here, Fate?!

"We need Potter alive," Lucius Malfoy barked, sticking close to Bellatrix. He's here as well?!

Just as the Stunning Charms shot across the narrow hallway: Harry smashed his way through the door, throwing Ron aside unceremoniously before rushing off to help the others. That hurt… Ron groaned as he sat up, watching in a daze as Harry yanked Neville and Hermione into the room before Non-Verbally smashing the door shut in Bellatrix's face. Bloody hell, that was brilliant!

"It hardly matters!" a man yelled from outside. "There are other ways inside! You lot! Over here! We've got them trapped!"

"They're right," Harry groaned, kicking the door before marching back to Ron. "Stay with Hermione and Ginny, Ron. Keep them safe while Neville and Luna help me seal all these doors." Right, I'm on it.

"We're in the Brain Room again," Luna panted, her messy hair dripping with sweat.

Ron limped past the three as they set out to seal the doors, making his way over to Ginny and Hermione. The bushy-haired witch lay motionless, while Ginny held her hand and watched over her.

"Is she… dead?" Ron asked Ginny, kneeling besides the unconscious Hermione. Bloody hell, she's as pale as a ghost, but I can see that she's breathing. Hermione… I have to get her out of here-

"Ron, your face…" Ginny gasped, her mouth hanging low.

"I'm all right," Ron lied. "Just a bit sore, that's all."

"What about Travers?" Ginny asked, shooting a quick look towards the others. "How did you lose him?" Lose him? I got rid of him.

"He's dead, Gin," Ron said, causing her to go silent. "What? He was going to kill me, wasn't he? I defended myself-"

"It's okay…" Ginny muttered, looking shaken to her core. "We're going to be okay… Harry will get us out of this, just like he always does. We'll tell the Aurors that you had no choice, that it was in self-defence-"

"Ginny, I'm going to kill every cunt who tries to break in here," Ron said plainly, getting irritated with her rambling. "Keep your focus, will you? We have to protect Hermione, and I don't even have a wand."

"You threw yours away," Ginny remembered. "Ron?! Why did you do that?!"

"It wasn't working," Ron sighed out. "Don't ask me why, but it just wouldn't cooperate." I'm not its owner, and I think it recognized that.

"So, you throw it away?!" Ginny demanded. "Mum and dad can't afford to get you another one, Ron!"

"I don't think they'll need to," Ron stood back up. "You're the only Weasley who's going to make it out of here, I can feel it in my bones."

"W-What…?" Ginny blinked.

"C'mon, let's get you two hidden," Ron groaned, reaching down and grabbing Hermione under the armpits. "Let's go, Gin! Now!"

His back lit up as he began dragging Hermione towards a large column, spotting a large, green tank in the middle of the spacious room. Are those… brains?! What the fuck!?

"Ginny, where the fuck are we?" Ron asked, gently placing Hermione against the column.

"The Department of Mysteries," Ginny replied. "Ron, are you sure that you're all right?" The Department of Mysteries? We're inside the Ministry? How did Harry get them in here? And how the fuck did the Death-Eaters get in here?!

"I hit my head," Ron lied again. "Everything feels fuzzy, Gin… Do you mind helping me here? Just tell me what's going on."

Ginny clicked her tongue, sitting down to Hermione's right.

"We came here to save Sirius, remember?" Ginny started. "But it was a trick… You-Know-Who was putting lies into Harry's head, so he could get his slimy hands on the Prophecy. We fell right into his trap, Ron, and now; Hermione might die…" Right, that's a lot to process. I should just focus on protecting this lot for now. I can worry about myself later.

"Give me your wand," Ron said, taking Ginny by surprise.

"No," Ginny refused. "Ron-"

"Your leg is fucked, how are you going to defend us?" Ron asked, frowning. "Ginny, don't be brat right now, please! Give it to me!"

Ginny clenched her jaw, handing over the wand aggressively before wrapping her arm around Hermione's waist. Thank you, your Majesty. Ron felt the wand pulsate in his left hand; it was definitely responding to him. Ginny's wand works? Brilliant!

Feeling his confidence resurge, Ron Non-Verbally numbed his damaged knuckles. Finally, that feels so much better. Time to fix up what I can, I need my mobility back if I'm to fight the Death-Eaters off.

"What are you doing?" Ginny asked.

"Preparing," Ron replied, healing the bruises and cuts he could reach Non-Verbally.

"You can cast Non-Verbal Magic, Ron?" Ginny asked right after, her eyes fixed on his. "I… I didn't know you could do that…" Yes, well, I'm not exactly your Ron, so you have no clue about what I can do.

"I can't heal your leg, that looks really fucked," Ron told her. "Sorry, Ginny."

"What did you do to my leg, again?" Ginny asked, studying Ron carefully. "You said you 'numbed' it… Who taught you to do that? Hermione? Harry? Who was it?" Madam Pomfrey.

"Someone I really miss right now," Ron admitted, deciding to scout the room. "Stay here, okay? I'll be nearby."

With that, Ron made his way past the column; looking around the room for any signs of trouble. Harry, Neville, and Luna were a level above him, bewitching the windows and doors with traps and wards. It was unsettling to see them all so focused despite their bleak situation, it reminded Ron of himself during his endless trials… They were older than him, sure, but they were still too young to be in such a horrible place; fighting off Death-Eaters like Bellatrix Lestrange and Antonin Dolohov. Where is the fucking Order in all of this?!

Ron tightened his hold on Ginny's wand, using his left hand was going to be difficult. He had never wielded a wand with his weaker hand, and now, he had to do so against the Dark Lord's strongest. I'm going to fucking die down here, aren't I? Brilliant-

"Collo- aaaaaaargh…" Luna's scream echoed through the room, and Ron turned just in time to see her hit a desk.

Her scream died on her lips, her body sliding over the surface and on to the floor on the other side where she lay sprawled; utterly motionless. Luna! Ron looked up to the shattered door on the second level, barely hanging on its hinges, someone had used the Blasting Curse to open a way through.

"Grab Potter and the Prophecy!" Bellatrix shrieked, charging into the room with five other Death-Eaters. Fucking bitch! Did you just kill my sister?!

"Confringo!" Ron chanted, aiming the wand carefully as to collapse the floor of the second level.

Bellatrix's heavy eyes shot open, and much to Ron's surprise; she leaped over the railing, gracefully floating down while her fellow Death-Eaters screamed and fell with the rest of the floor. She landed on top of a desk; her eyes fixed on Ron with dark curiosity. She's bloody quick, and somehow; she can float around the air… I have to be careful, now more than ever. I can't let her get to Ginny and Hermione, and I need to get to Luna.

Ron took on his fighting stance, not planning to underestimate Bellatrix a second time.

"You almost killed me," Bellatrix suddenly spoke; her voice trembling with rage, or, excitement, Ron couldn't tell. "Is that any way to greet a Lady, Weasley?"

"Come over here, and I'll greet you properly," Ron said, slowly moving towards Luna.

Bellatrix's thin lips quirked upwards; she was definitely amused. She's stronger than I am, faster than I am, more experienced than I am, and she has more friends on her side… I'm not going to win this fight. At least, not fairly. C'mon, Ron… Think! How can you summon help?

"Do you hear that, husband? He's a funny one," Bellatrix giggled and looked back, though, her mirth turned to malice when she saw her allies groaning and moaning. "Oh, get up, you fool! All of you! Get up! You've allowed a boy to embarrass you-?!"

"Avada Kedavra!" Ron hissed, feeling Ginny's wand burn within his left palm.

There was a brilliant green light, filling the room with its radiance as it shot towards a horrified Bellatrix. That's for Neville's parents!

"Weasley-!" Bellatrix leaped off the table just in time, landing on her side with a thud.

Ron's Killing Curse smashed into the wall on the other side, blowing a large chunk out of it and showering the Death-Eaters on the floor with more debris. That actually worked! I'm keeping this wand! And guess what?! I bet the Aurors will catch wind of me using an Unforgivable thanks to the Trace!

Ron grinned as he rushed over to Luna's side, ignoring the horrified looks on Harry and Neville's faces; they had reached her first. Grab her, and let's get the fuck out of here! We only have to survive until the Aurors get here!

"What are you two waiting for?" Ron asked, moving Neville aside and kneeling down next to Luna. "Neville, you carry her; Harry and I will cover you. We need to get to Ginny and Hermione-"

"Ron, you just used the Killing Curse, didn't you?" Harry muttered, he looked too shocked to move.

"And?" Ron asked. "Harry, I just called the Aurors down here. I'm underage, remember? I still have the Trace on me-"

"Oh!" Neville's eyes widened, and then he nodded fervently. "Dad's smard, Ron!" Whose dad is 'smard'? Bloody hell, who did that to you, mate?

"The Ministry won't care, Ron!" Harry grabbed Ron by the shoulder, shaking him. Calm down, what the fuck is the matter with you? We have bigger problems, cunt! "They'll lock you up-!"

"Fuck the Ministry, I'm not letting these Death-Eaters kill you lot," Ron hissed, smacking Harry's hand away. "Neville, grab her and let's go! Hurry!"

Neville pocketed the oddly-familiar wand within his right hand, and then; he moved his arms under Luna and lifted her with a pained grunt. We're all banged up, but it looks like Harry and Neville can still fight. I have to help them get the girls out, even if it means staying behind.

The three wizards moved quickly, with Neville leading the way towards Ginny and Hermione. Ron kept his eyes peeled for Bellatrix, she had all but vanished; leaving her injured allies to fend for themselves. She's still here, I just need to find her. Ron focused his mind, trying to reach out to any errant Magic within the large room, and before long; he sensed her behind them, lurking in the shadows.

Her Magic was… foul, and it sent a shudder through Ron's body. It feels like I'm standing in a room with loads of dead animals, all of them rotting right at my very feet. Ugh… She's truly wretched, isn't she? I can't let her get any of them; she'll skin them alive.

"Confringo!" Ron suddenly turned around, firing a Blasting Curse in her general direction.

There was a loud cackle from the shadows, followed by Ron's Spell suddenly vanishing from sight; she had parried the Blasting Curse before it could go off. Ron was left speechless and motionless by her skill, while Harry and Neville bolted for the column. Bellatrix came flying out of the shadows just as they reached Ginny and Hermione, floating onto the second-floor railing and balancing herself on it with the agility of a cat. How is she doing that?!

"Potter!" Bellatrix laughed maniacally. "How many of your friends will die before you give me the Prophecy?! I have been lenient with you, boy! Patient! But now, I've reached my limit, so if you don't hand over that Prophecy; I will kill all of your precious little Gryffindors!"

Harry paused, looking towards his injured friends; there was doubt on his face.

"Don'd gib id do her, Harry," Neville said, his voice strong despite his bloodied mouth.

"She's going to kill us if you hand it over, Harry," Ginny grit out, forcing herself to stand up. "Don't believe her!"

"Have I killed any of you yet?" Bellatrix asked, walking on top of the railing with a mischievous smile on her face. "I really should, considering how you've all treated me tonight. That Weasley right over there tried to kill me! I had no idea that McGonagall, that old hag, was teaching her Gryffindors the Dark Arts-!"

"Um… Luna's in Ravenclaw," Ron corrected her, and Bellatrix slowly looked towards him; murder flashing behind her eyes. "And I'm in Slytherin. You ought to get your facts straight, you dumb cunt." Enough of this, she's starting to get to them. I have to do something, right now.

"Slytherin…? Dumb… cunt…?" Bellatrix murmured, her body immediately shaking with rage. That's it, Ron. Keep pissing her off, and then lure her away from them. Harry and Neville can take care of the girls, they seem genuinely competent. All right, let's do this, then! Hit her where it hurts; her pride!

"Tell her, Harry," Ron looked to the gawking wizard. What's with that look? Oh, wait… Is this Ron not in Slytherin? Well, that's embarrassing. I suppose, this makes me a dumb cunt as well, then.

"Bellatrix!" Lucius Malfoy suddenly barked, limping into view along with the rest of the Death-Eaters. Six against three… We're so fucking fucked. "The boy used the Killing Curse, did he not?!"

"What?!" Ginny gasped, while Bellatrix glared murder at Ron. Guilty as charged.

"He did!" Bellatrix hissed. "The nerve! I will teach this one a personal lesson in respect-!"

"He's called the Aurors here, you fool!" Lucius spat out, and Ron couldn't help but grin as Bellatrix's rage was quickly replaced by apprehension and fear. You're done for, Lestrange. Even if you kill us, you're not getting out of here in one piece.

"Where is the Prophecy?!" the Death-Eater to Lucius' right hissed; the man was easily recognizable to Ron. Tall, muscular, and has long, dark hair… That must be Rodolphus Lestrange. Where is his brother? I don't see him.

Ron took the chance to eyeball his opponents, they were in much better shape than he was. Lucius Malfoy stood at the front, his white-blond hair messy and filled with small rocks, but he was otherwise unharmed. With him stood Rodolphus Lestrange, Walden Macnair, and two others hidden behind ivory bone-masks. Should I use Baubillious on the group? No… This body can't handle that Spell. I'll end up frying myself, or worse, I'll lose control and hurt my friends. Think fast, what are my options?

"Enough!" Lucius yelled, angrily fixing his fine, dark robes into place. "Potter, give us the Prophecy, your race is run. You have lost."

Harry hid the orb containing the Prophecy behind his back, a defiant glint in his eyes. I like this Harry, he's got balls.

"Come and get it," Harry challenged, and Ron couldn't help but smirk. That's what I like to hear, fuck these Death-Eaters and their demands. However, seeing as there's a lot of them; we do need an actual plan. What if I steal the Prophecy and run away? The Death-Eaters will follow me and leave the others alone, right?

"Foolish boy," Lucius chuckled icily, looking to Bellatrix, who was now laughing hysterically. "Do you think your pride will save you? Or, is that arrogance, I sense? Give it to us, now… I will not ask again."

"Give it to him, Harry," Ron said, pocketing Ginny's wand. Buy time, kill Malfoy, steal the Prophecy, and save the others. I got this!

"Whad?!" Neville bellowed. "Ron?!"

Harry stood motionless; his furrowed brow aimed right at Ron. Oh, go on. Trust me. I'm your lapdog, aren't I? Ron gestured Harry to come over, giving the confused Gryffindor a meaningful look. Read my mind! Do it! Harry looked even more bewildered, taking a step back. Bloody hell, am I that ugly?!

"Listen to your friend, Potter," Lucius laughed, nearing Ron step-by-step. "Weasley knows that it's over, learn from his example. The Dark Lord will show you all mercy, perhaps even reward you for retrieving the Prophecy for him." Is he serious? Does he think we're mental? Arrogant prick… Keep walking over, please. You're so close.

"I want my sister's safety guaranteed," Ron started, interrupting Lucius' planned speech. "Actually, add Luna and Hermione on that list too, please."

Lucius stopped to Ron's right, sneering at the young wizard with utter disdain in his eyes. You nearly killed Ginny, Hermione, Justin, Penelope, and Colin… You could have killed everyone at Hogwarts, you degenerate!

"If Potter hands over the Prophecy, you can have anything you like, my pet," Bellatrix promised, giving Ron a disturbing look from above. Why do I get the feeling that she wants to boil me and eat me? Fucking hag.

"There, convince your friend-" Lucius began, but a loud bang interrupted the 'negotiations'.

"The Aurors are here!" one of the masked Death-Eaters raged, dashing behind a desk. Yes! Finally! Cutis Terra!

Ron felt his muscles harden into steel, his back straightening by itself until he was staring right into Lucius' widened eyes. The Death-Eater jerked back, but Ron had him by the throat immediately after; dragging him back so they could speak face-to-face. Do you remember me? Do you remember my sister?! You tried to murder her!

"Justice has found you, Lucius," Ron whispered, keeping his back towards his friends. "All your sins laid bare; look into Our eyes."

Lucius looked more terrified than Ron could have possibly imagined; the coward had completely tensed up, and he was even struggling to pull his ornamented wand out of his walking cane. Ron ignored how damaged his own knuckles were, tightening his grip until Lucius' eyes and tongue were bulging out of his head. Just as the chaos and shouting erupted in full, with the Aurors flanking the Death-Eaters; Ron saw a flash of green from the corner of his vision.

"Ron, look out!" Harry yelled, but Ron had already moved Lucius into place. Ha, fool!

The brilliant green light of the Killing Curse struck Lucius in the back, forcing Ron to dig his heels in as to withstand the force. Bellatrix let out a frustrated shriek, while Ron wasted no time in hurling Lucius' limp corpse at Rodolphus' back; catching the Lestrange off-guard and leaving him unconscious under his dead ally. We would make for an unstoppable Keeper, just look at that throw.

Ron undid the Spell, losing his focus in the process and collapsing on all fours. Damn, I overdid it, again… Damn this fool for not being used to Wandless Magic, I hated these symptoms enough the first time around, and now, I'm being forced to relive them. Ron felt someone tugging at his clothes, trying to drag him away from Bellatrix's wrath, but he found it too difficult to completely regain his senses.

He was mostly dead weight, but whoever was trying to save him; they were relentless in their quest to protect him. There were flashes of bright lights nearby, and whenever Ron managed to regain some focus; he heard Neville shouting 'STUBEFY!' over and over again.

"Neville, take Ron!" Harry yelled, suddenly dropping Ron like a sack of potatoes. Ow… "Let me cover you two! Your Spells aren't working properly!"

"I can do dis, Harry!" Neville roared. "I hab do!"

"Ron's hurt! Help him!" Harry ordered; the shuffling of feet was unbearably annoying. Drag yourself to safety, Ron… You can't rely on others…

Ron dragged himself in the column's direction, splaying his arms out and crawling along the floor like a slug. The sounds of the fighting continued to become more intense, especially near Ron himself, as Bellatrix was trying her hardest to kill him without hurting Harry.

"I god you!" Neville suddenly yanked him up, just as he was nearing safety.

"You son of a bitch…" Ron growled, nearly falling over again. "I was so close…"

"Ginny! Ron's hurd!" Neville shouted, dragging Ron around the pillar and helping him down to Ginny's side. "Did you see him?! Did you see whad he did?!"

"Ron! Come here!" Ginny fretted, pulling Ron into her side and holding on tightly. "Merlin, are you hurt?! How did you do those things, Ron?!" I am hurt, and as for how I did those things… Well, that's a very long and dull story, Gin. Maybe we should talk about it when we're not seconds away from dying, though, eh?

His entire body felt like it was on fire, but Ron grit his teeth and pushed himself away from his sister's comforting hold. Where's Harry?

"Ron, stop!" Ginny tried to pull him back down, almost succeeding.

"I will smack you," Ron warned, shoving her hands away. "Shut up, and stay down. You too, Neville. Protect them, I'm going to go get Harry."

"I can-" Neville started.

"Get the girls to safety if you can, please," Ron cut him off, grunting as he limped out of cover. Sweet Merlin, I'm dying… I fucked up really badly this time…

Harry was hurling stunners and Disarming Charms up at Bellatrix, who was laughing and, for lack of a better word, dancing; dodging Harry's Spells with ease. How is she keeping her balance?! Fucking hell, why couldn't she be dim-witted like Alecto Carrow?

"Ha! Weasley's come back!" Bellatrix suddenly dropped from the railing, floating onto the ground gracefully. "The Dark Lord will want to meet you-!"

"No, thanks," Ron coughed out, pulling out Ginny's wand with his left hand. "I don't like the sound of that very much, if I'm being honest."

"Get back, Ron," Harry moved in front of him, waving the Prophecy about. "She has to hold back against me, I've got the Prophecy right here-"

"Careful, you fool!" Bellatrix hissed, reaching out to grab the Prophecy, despite being several feet away.

"Oh? You see that, Harry?" Ron smirked. "I think you scared her."

"Did I?" Harry asked, pretending to drop the Prophecy. "Should I just drop it, then? Take one more step forward, and I'll ruin Voldemort's plans!"

Bellatrix jerked forward a step, despite the warning; her eyes flashing with murderous rage. Easy, Harry, let's not anger her too much. We're still outmatched, and I don't want to die before getting you lot out of here.

"That Prophecy is our way out of here," Ron whispered, shooting a look towards the fighting. More Death-Eaters? And is that Remus?! The Order is here too?! "Harry, we need to use the Prophecy to escape. The Order is here, we need to get to one of them-"

"Planning to leave?" Bellatrix asked, taking another step forward. "No, I don't think so! Give me the Prophecy, Potter! Or, I will flay your precious Weasley right in front of you!" Precious Weasley? This, again? I'm sorry, but I have to ask…

"Harry, are we together?" Ron asked, shooting Harry a curious look.

"Wh-What?" Harry's face twisted into a grimace. "No-… What?! Ron, are you sure that you're all right? Did you hit your head?" Travers did do a number on me, yes.

"It doesn't matter, give me the Prophecy," Ron said, his curiosity sated. Harry and I are best mates in this world, he's thrown himself in front of me whenever there's been a threat. I'll save him, for sure. I owe the Ron I'm possessing that much, right?

"Give you the Prophecy?" Harry asked, taking a step away from Ron.

"Mate, someone has to lead her away," Ron whispered, looking towards a nearing Bellatrix. Bloody hell, she's looking downright terrifying, shaking with rage like that! "Never mind, Harry, keep the Prophecy… Neither of us can hope to escape her, now. We have to hold her off, instead."

"Take the Prophecy," Harry suddenly shoved the Prophecy into Ron's chest, while aiming his wand at Bellatrix. "Take it, Ron, hurry!"

"No, I couldn't hold it even if I wanted to, mate," Ron raised his trembling, bloodied right hand. Plus, you're worth more than me, even in this world. "Harry, we have to keep her away from the column behind us. The others are back there-"

There was a sudden flash of red, but Harry used a well-timed Shield Charm to block whatever Curse Bellatrix had sent their way. That's it, then? We're fighting her!

"Rumpere!" Ron chanted, sending a poorly aimed Bone-Crusher Curse towards her. Fuck! I can barely hold my arm up!

"Ron, what was that?" Harry asked, shooting the redhead a quick glance. "When did you learn that?"

"Is now the best time for these questions?" Ron grunted, sending a wave of fire at Bellatrix.

She slashed through the fire with her wand, quickly waving it over her head and sending Ron's fire right back at him. Protego. Ron blocked the fire, and Harry began firing stunners the moment Ron's shield was out of the way. Bloody hell, he's eager… He needs to learn to conserve his strength. But then again, who am I to talk?

"Give me the Prophecy!" Bellatrix suddenly shrieked, going into a frenzy as she viciously slashed her wand in-between Ron and Harry; sending forth an endless barrage of colourful Charms and Curses at both wizards.

They were put on the defensive almost immediately, with Ron struggling to keep up and unable to dodge most Spells due to their accuracy. She's getting closer and closer; we need to get back-! Bellatrix shattered Ron's shield with a well-timed 'Finite', immediately jerking her head forward and sending her hair for Ron's throat.

In an instant; the thick, black strands had grown unnaturally and wrapped themselves around Ron's neck. He grit his teeth as the hair began to tighten around his neck like a noose, but his pain was short lived as Bellatrix's hair yanked him off of his feet; sending him flying into the column.

The back of Ron's head hit the wall with a dull thud, followed immediately by the sensation of fresh warmth running down his head and neck. What just… happened…? His ears ringing, and his vision dimming; Ron could faintly see and hear Harry calling out to him, he could even hear Bellatrix laughing as she began to overwhelm the Chosen One, but Ron could do little but slump over. I can't even move… I didn't even last more than two minutes against her…

---

?

"Ron, wake up!" someone shook him hard, bringing him back to the world of the living.

"Ugh…" Ron groaned, was he sliding across the floor? "Where am… I…?"

"Ron, you have to help me here!" Harry pleaded; he was trying to drag Ron along the floor. "For such a gangly bloke, you sure do weigh a lot!"

"Gangly?" Ron mumbled, feeling an ounce of irritation. "What's going on?"

"Bellatrix got chased away by Moody!" Harry grunted, finally pulling Ron behind a desk. "There you go! Just stay here, all right? I'll bring the others over, they're still hiding."

Ron finally noticed that Harry's forehead had a nasty gash on it, and blood was trickling down onto his glasses. Fuck, did that crazy bitch do that to him?

"Harry, your head-?" Ron started, but Harry was already on the move.

"I'll be fine, stay here," Harry said, running off into the noise. No, come back here!

"Let me heal it, you dolt…" Ron muttered, rolling himself onto his side. "Get up, Ron… Get up…"

Snarling like an animal, Ron pushed himself up on his feet; wasting little time in surveying his surroundings. Sirius and Harry were fighting off Dolohov with Rufus Scrimgeour's aid, but the Death-Eater was gaining the upper hand on them. Closer to Ron, an unfamiliar Death-Eater was trying to escape from Tonks and Madam Roberts. He's coming my way, the cunt!

Ron drew in a deep breath, moving around the desk with his fists clenched. He had lost Ginny's wand in the fight against Bellatrix, so he had to rely on his body to do all the work. Claws! Are they there? Ron felt his fingers; finding swellings between his finger knuckles. Yes, of course… We are forever changed. Changed by the cruelty of Fate!

The Death-Eater spotted Ron; his eyes widened but he made no attempt to stop. A coward, and a fool? We will remember that face!

"Avada Kedavra!" the Death-Eater hissed, sending forth green death.

Ron shifted his upper body to the left, feeling his spine pop out of place just in time to move him out of the way. The Death-Eater tried to skid to a stop at that, but Ron charged him like a maniac; feeling his strength return from sheer anger. Cutis Terra! Incendio!

Ron felt his right hand become as hot as lava as his true nails revealed themselves, while the rest of his body felt empowered unlike ever before. With one swift motion, Ron shoved his clawed hand through the Death-Eater's gut; feeling his scorching fingers slide through warm innards until they gripped the Death-Eater's spine. Ah, so he does have a spine.

The smell of burning flesh filled Ron's flaring nostrils, while his ears were bombarded with the Death-Eater's dying howls. Ron tensed his legs in order to lift the skewered Death-Eater above his head; glaring up into the man's horrified eyes as the life drained out of them. Another degenerate purged!

Ron tossed the Death-Eater back, his glowing hand sliding out with a sickening slurping sound that made even Ron sick to his stomach. He would have thrown up, like Tonks was doing at this very moment, if he had any food in his stomach.

"Who the fuck is this?!" Madam Roberts demanded, her eyes wide with shock and her wand aimed at Ron. "Merlin… His eyes… Tonks, get up! Now!" Our eyes?

Ron caught his reflection in the broken glass nearby, spotting a pair of crimson, toad-like eyes staring back into his soul. Well, the cat is out, then.

"Ron?!" Harry called, they had subdued Dolohov just in time to see Ron's real face.

"Hello," Ron grinned a bloody, sharp-toothed smile; no longer feeling the urge to remain hidden. This is not Our world; this is just another injustice committed against Us by Fate! Enough is enough! We are leaving!

Ron heard a couple of wands clatter to the floor, but at the same time; Scrimgeour and Madam Roberts dashed in front of Harry; fixing their wands at Ron's head. They are not Our people, not Our responsibility.

"Come, come," Ron began walking towards a fear-frozen Tonks, feeling his bones crack and grow with each step. "We were sent to help protect Harry James Potter; We are on your side."

"Tonks, get back-!" Sirius started shouting, while the rest instinctively tried to drag Harry away, but Ron had Tonks by the throat in an instant; yanking her up and hurling her straight at Madam Roberts and Scrimgeour's backs. "Fucking hell! Catch her!"

Tonks went screaming, and just as Scrimgeour turned and stopped her Wandlessly; Ron sent forth a sea of ghostly serpents at them, feeling his Spell latch onto multiple screaming bodies. Ron's neck cracked and extended, giving him a good view of who was left standing. Sirius Black, forgive Us for Our manners! But We are done with this game! Lumos Solem!

Golden light filled the room, and Ron simply let it all loose at anything in sight. Twisting his hands, Ron felt the snared bodies lose the will to fight as the serpents crushed their prey. Sleep.

The moment Ron ended his Spells; he saw the utter destruction he had wrought. The bodies of the Aurors lay about, splayed out and covered in grime. Harry and Sirius lay not much further, bloodied and bruised by Ron's wrath as well. The massive tank containing the Brains had been shattered, and said Brains were now mostly mush at this point.

Ron's eyes began to glow even more brightly, no one had died from the concussive power of his Light of the Sun Charm. Even those who had been ensnared were breathing and groaning, their bodies rigid from the shock of hearing Ron's voice. We should collect Harry, and depart immediately. If he is saved, then Our work is complete. The others are of no consequence.

---

Several Minutes Later

"Reducto," Ron chanted, blowing off half of Dolohov's unconscious face. "For you, uncles."

Ron then looked to the other occupants of the ravaged room; he had stunned everyone, including Ginny and Neville, who had eventually crawled out of hiding to investigate. All that was left was to drag Harry out of here, and hand him over to the Headmaster himself. Albus will help Us find a way back to Our world. He is not like the others; he will understand Our plight.

Ron reached down and grabbed Harry by the collar, dragging the unconscious wizard along without much trouble. The more he focused on his boiling rage, the rage of the Entity; the more powerful Ron felt. His bones refused to surrender, even as they creaked for mercy. His battered body endured, carrying him towards the end of his mission.

Ron found no reason to stop focusing on his anger, on just how unfair and cruel all of this was. What had he done to deserve all this horror? This question kept repeating in his head, blurring his demonic eyes with angry tears and making his left-hand tremble around Harry's wand. She will pay for this! She HAS to!

Just as Ron reached the closest exit, a door at the end of the room was blasted open. Ron frowned to himself, had the Death-Eaters returned from fighting the Aurors. If so, then leaving would mean signing the death warrants of everyone in the room.

Leaving would the smart choice, the more rational choice, but reason wasn't enough to justify leaving his little sisters behind. Or, any of them. Curses! At least, We can erase a few more stains before we depart from this world! We are generous, aren't We? Ron dragged Harry behind some cover, dumping him unceremoniously before turning to face the intruders. Protect the unable, then crush the flesh-sacs. We must be quick!

Through the smoke, Albus Dumbledore emerged; his face white and furious. Ron felt relief wash over him almost immediately, soaking his anger and quenching it momentarily. He's here, I can get some help, now! Fucking hell, I've never been so glad to see anyone in my whole life!

"Headmaster!" Ron called, noticing that his voice had changed. It's all right, I've done it. I don't have to keep pushing myself anymore…

The mere thought made him fall onto his hands and knees, his body gripped by terrible agony. Shit, the after-effects… No… Ron heard careful steps approach him, and as he looked up; he saw the Headmaster staring down at him with a stern expression.

"Where is Harry?" Dumbledore asked. Ah… Right…

"Behind the rubble over there," Ron managed, falling over to his side. "He's safe… Gods… This hurts!"

"Were you hit by a Curse, Mr. Weasley?" Dumbledore quickly kneeled down by his side, turning Ron onto his back and holding a palm over the redhead's sweaty forehead.

Dumbledore chanted something, and then; his stern expression began to fall. Ron knew it the moment he saw the old man's eyes shift; he was a dead man. I've completely destroyed this body… I can feel… feel it…

A weak cough managed to find its freedom, bringing with it a spurt of thick blood. Pain pulsed through every muscle in his body, causing him to shift and groan with what little strength he had left.

"Mr-… Ronald…" Dumbledore whispered. "I'm so very sorry-"

"It's… It's okay…" Ron whimpered, trying to curl in on himself but unable to control his body to that degree. "I… I deserve nothing less…"

Dumbledore blinked, looking truly taken aback for once when Ron smiled up at the ceiling. Finally… I'm nearly done…

"Their memo…ries…" Ron reached up, trying to hold Dumbledore's hand. I'm glad that's it's you, Headmaster… I'll miss our talks so much…

"Memories?" Dumbledore whispered, holding onto Ron's hand as tightly as he could. "Ronald-"

"Listen… please…" Ron wheezed. "Obliv…iate… them… I did this… I destroyed this place. Obliviate… them… I'm not the Ron you… know… I did something horrible to them… Change their… memories… Ginny first, okay…?"

"Ronald, save your strength," Dumbledore said, looking around the room. "Fawkes! Come to me-!"

"No, don't…" Ron felt sick at the idea of having to go on. "Just do as I say… Look at their memories… for proof… Don't waste the tears on me, help the others."

Ron heard Fawkes flash into the room as he finished, the roaring flames summoned by the Phoenix warmed Ron's cold skin. That feels perfect, mate… Fawkes landed on Dumbledore's shoulder, peering down at Ron with a sad look. Despite the pain; Ron smiled once again, it was nice to see the Headmaster and Fawkes one last time, even if he was most likely a stranger to them in this world. Headmaster, Professor Snape… She finally fucking killed me… I'm sorry… I'm so, so sorry… I failed you both… again…

---

?

Ron stood within an endless, golden, ethereal hall; staring blankly towards the horizon. There was no more pain, which was a welcome change, but Ron was still trapped in Fate's 'test'. I wonder what happened to the poor sod I was possessing. He probably died because of me.

Ron drew in a shaky breath, clenching his fists and beginning his search for an exit.

Wherever he was now, it was definitely not natural; even his flowing, dark robes felt alien. It feels like I'm wearing smoke, honestly. The material is ridiculously light, but also a perfect fit. Ron shot a look down at his legs, noticing that his black robes were indeed like smoke; leaving black fog wherever he stepped. Where the fuck am I? Is this the afterlife? Did I really die this time? And also, who put me in these weird clothes?

"Fate?!" Ron called out, admiring the magnificent pillars around him. They're so massive… Let's see what they're holding up, eh?

Ron looked up, finally noticing that there was no ceiling; just an endless, golden beyond. It was almost an overwhelming sight, it definitely made Ron feel tiny, but, perhaps, that was Fate's game? Just keep your eyes ahead, old boy. Stay alert.

Just as his eyes dropped back down, the eternal hall contracted before his very eyes; squeezing in on itself until Ron stood within a perfectly square room. A golden prison…

"Fate?!" Ron called again. "Just show yourself! Why are you doing this?!"

"You passed my test, Champion," Fate spoke from behind him, causing Ron to go very still. It's okay… Relax, she needs you. She might be all powerful, but you've been preparing for this. Stand up for yourself.

"Your test?" Ron asked, drawing in a deep breath before turning around.

She was standing awfully close, towering over him again with that mask of absolute indifference that made Ron feel truly insignificant. Ron tried to match her gaze, but her overwhelming beauty and power were too difficult to ignore, and as such; Ron found himself lowering his gaze instinctively.

"You saved Harry Potter, just as I commanded," Fate reminded him. "You are everything I had hoped you would be."

Ron looked up at that, his heart climbing into his throat for some reason. What does she mean by that?

"What's going on?" Ron asked, forcing himself to lock eyes with her. "Why am I here?"

"You are here because I want you to be here," Fate replied; her voice was as smooth as silk, but as empty as the dessert. "The Lord of Serpents has recovered his power, Champion."

"Recovered?" Ron muttered, taking a step back. How?! "He… He doesn't have a proper body, right? The Headmaster told me that the Dark Lord had to possess people-"

"I can feel his power even now," Fate said, while Ron pinched the bridge of his nose. Problem after problem. Fuck!

"Let me guess, I'm not dead yet…" Ron felt genuinely disappointed, and even a little bitter towards those who still needed more from him. "And I have to go back and deal with this mess?"

"That is your purpose, my Champion," Fate said, her golden eyes peering into the darkest corners of his soul.

"My purpose…" Ron muttered, feeling his bitterness grow. "No… This isn't my life. You did this to me."

"Yes," Fate said simply, while Ron clenched his fists.

"Why?!" Ron grit out, glaring right back at her. Fuck you!

"The death of Harry Potter would lead to the destruction of your Universe," Fate replied, not even remotely caring about Ron's anger with her. "The Lord of Serpents would become unstoppable, conquering your world nation by nation, until eventually; he would become the sole living being on Earth."

Ron just stared at her, trying to paint a picture in his mind of a world where only the Dark Lord existed. He didn't have to think long, as Fate seemed to have read his mind; beckoning the ethereal walls to show Ron moving images of a desolate planet. Merlin's beard…

"London," Fate said, while Ron gawked at crumbling towers and scorched streets. Are those… people? They're all burnt black!

"He did this…?" Ron muttered, paling at the sight of a ravaged Diagon Alley. "Even the Pure-Bloods…?"

"None would have escaped his madness," Fate replied. "For a time, he would have had his wish; Lord Voldemort would rule. But, like all mortals, he would crave more; his depravity leading him to perform a Dark ritual."

The images shifted; revealing an angry, red scar in the middle of the sky, right above the ruins of a small town. Ron felt his bones tremble at the sight, it was as though he could feel the power radiating from the mere images of the massive split in the blackened sky. Whatever it was, it was utterly evil and unnatural.

"What the fuck…?" Ron finally broke his silence, looking towards Fate. "What is that?"

"A gateway to Divinity," Fate replied, confusing Ron even further.

"I… I don't understand what that means," Ron tried, feeling even more frustrated and frightened.

"The Lord of Serpents would have sacrificed your world, the ritual would have caused this wound in the fabric of reality," Fate said, her glowing eyes always unblinking. "Through this gateway; he would have become a threat to the entire Universe."

"Would have?" Ron blinked. "So, this didn't actually happen…?" I'm going to vomit. This is… sick…

"I am the Chronicler of Fates, Champion," Fate said. "I weave the Tapestry of Time, I foresaw the death of a Universe, I witnessed the decimated planets and the never-ending screams. I saw a Universe on fire; and at the very centre; a mortal driven mad by his 'immortality'."

Ron swallowed thickly, dumbly staring at the images of alien worlds burned and frozen completely, some were even covered in thin, black crystals that resembled spiderwebs. It was too much, and Ron found himself struggling to breathe, or, even stand still.

"This isn't right," Ron began pacing. "One fucking man did this? No one could stop him? Not even another species from across the Galaxy?! I mean, there are other species, right? Right?!" Fucking hell, the old man is going to have a heart attack when I show him this. He's going to fucking die right in front of Professor Snape and me!

"The Lord of Serpents is no ordinary mortal," Fate said simply. "His false immortality would have granted him endless time to learn, to assimilate the knowledge of destroyed civilizations." The walls suddenly grew dim, until they eventually became pitch-black. "This is as far as I could see; the emptiness of a dead Universe. Its sole inhabitant; a madman pretending to be a God."

Ron kneeled down, resting on one knee as he thought about the trillions of lives lost. I'm the first, and the last, line of defence, then? I… I can't stop this… No one can.

"You are my solution, Champion," Fate said suddenly, and Ron looked back up at her. "You have been touched by the Void; it marks your very soul." She gestured to his dark robes. "It clings to your skin in my Realm, exposed to the Light of Creation. Weak, vulnerable. And yet, it still possesses the power to bar me from your thoughts-"

"Just stop…" Ron put his hand up, drawing in a deep breath. "You're going to set me off, all right? Stop saying this twisted shite, for Merlin's sake."

"You will stop him, by any means necessary," Fate said, it was definitely an order. "His madness cannot be unleashed-"

"Why do you even care, huh?" Ron shot up, giving her a withering look. "You don't care about us 'mere mortals', do you? Why are you trying to stop this from happening? What do you get out of this?"

"The Balance must be protected," Fate replied. "No mortal may become immortal, that which has a start must also have an end."

"Are you telling me that he outlasted you?" Ron nearly laughed, barely able to hold back his bitterness. "Is that what this is? You're being petty?"

"In the end, only the Void shall remain," Fate said, ignoring Ron's provocations. "The Lord of Serpents would have met his end, just as I will. That which has a start must also have an end."

"The Entity…" Ron remembered. "Or, whatever the fuck it's called. It said that it would end all life, in the end…"

"You are mistaken," Fate said, taking Ron by surprise. "The droplet within you is nothing but that; a drop stolen from a bottomless ocean."

The blackened walls suddenly blazed to life, colourful lights shooting up and down all round Ron, until, very suddenly, there was darkness once again. I don't see anything-

There was a crimson glow from behind Ron, followed by the overwhelming sensation to run for his life. A heartbeat; it drummed in his ears, but it was not his own. Somehow, Ron got the feeling that the foreign heartbeat was attempting to harm him, to drive him mad, getting louder and louder until it was unbearable. Even as he stood shaking, facing Fate, while she stared beyond him; the young wizard could sense that a terrible power was watching him, and that he was not safe, despite his company.

"Son…" a hideous voice echoed within his very being; it was both compassionate and cruel. "Come… Home…"

Ron screamed, clutching his hair and running towards the darkness.

His face hit something solid almost immediately, and with a dull thud; he dropped onto his back, unconscious.

---

?

Ron woke up feeling even more tired than before; his limbs ached as he forced himself to stand up. Where am I? What's going on? Why's it so dark in here?

"Champion," came Fate's voice, the unnerving darkness suddenly being replaced by golden brilliance.

"What happened?" Ron groaned, looking around for her. "Where are you?"

"Behind you," she replied, and Ron jumped a little. Merlin! Creepy bitch! "You have regained consciousness."

"Did the Tapestry of Time tell you that?" Ron asked bitterly, rolling his shoulders. I can't remember what happened…

"You are troubled," Fate said. Her unchanging tone… It's driving me insane! And why does she keep stating the obvious? Does she think I'm so slow that I don't realize what's happening to me and around me?

"I can't remember why I was… sleeping…" Ron rubbed his forehead, flashes of crimson light flashing in his mind. Shit, that hurts… Why does it hurt to remember?

"You heard its voice; the Star of Madness," Fate said, and Ron immediately began to feel cold and isolated. Home…

"No…" Ron shook his head, terrified. "It was…" he trailed off. What did it do to me?

"I took your memories, exposing you to the Star yielded different results than I had expected," Fate said, and Ron's wide eyes darted to her face. What?! She did that on purpose?!

"Why?!" Ron demanded, his voice trembling as he failed to regain his composure. It's freezing in here!

"Even you cannot hope to survive its presence, despite your soul being forever changed by its Magic," Fate said, her compassionless eyes fixing Ron in place. "It is too malevolent to be kept in a living Universe; it drove the one it inhabits mad. All potential life poised. A pity." Fate then looked Ron over, it looked as if she was seeing through him. "Beyond this shortcoming; you have proven valuable. You will serve me well, my Champion."

"Serve you…?" Ron felt horrified at the idea, taking a long step back. "No… I don't want to. I already have so much to do-"

"Must we do this again?" Fate asked simply. "Do you wish to be boneless? Your torment will be endless. Or, I can make your organs boil, instead. I will give you the privilege of choosing, Champion."

Ron shrank, shaking harder and harder. His eyes welled up, and he clenched his fists until his knuckles were bone-white. No choice… No choice at all… I'm a servant, then… Fuck! Fuck, fuck!

"Can I at least… know what you want from me?" Ron asked hesitantly, surrendering for the second time in his life. I really wish I'd fucking died…

"What are you doing?" Fate asked, just as a sob escaped Ron's lips. "Must you all do this, in each incarnation?"

"Sorr… Sorry…" Ron wiped at his eyes; his hands still balled up and suffering from the shakes.

He felt humiliated, exhausted, terrified, and completely alone; trapped in her domain, and stuck under her limitless power. There was no fucking choice here at all; he either served her, or, he would suffer for hours on end before being forced to serve her despite his resistance. Stop shaking… Please, just stop shaking…

Fate remained unfazed, staring down at Ron with the same indifference as before. I want to go… home… To mum and dad… He immediately tried to think of any good memory of them, quickly settling on the day he had woken up after saving Pandora. Dad… He told me he had never been prouder of anyone in his life-

"You mortals are strange creatures," Fate said, making Ron fully hide his gaze. "I have shown you the premature death of your Universe, and given you the opportunity to alter the course of history, and yet, you weep. Not out of joy, not out of gratitude, but rather, because you are plagued with fear and indecision."

"I want to be norm… normal…" the words just came out, followed by a regretful sob. Stay quiet, and keep your eyes down.

"'Normal' is not a concept that I am familiar with, nor do I have any need to ascertain it," Fate said. "I chose you. That is all that matters."

"Why… me?" Ron managed; his mind overrun with the thoughts of spending time with Daphne. I really wish she were here. I really miss holding her hand.

He sniffled again, his eyes stinging harder.

"You were already situated well within Wizarding Society, and your family influenced you from an early age to stand against the Lord of Serpents and his Death-Eaters," Fate replied, causing Ron even more dread with the utter lack of regret in her voice.

She didn't care. She didn't care about the suffering she had caused him. She didn't care about the other Rons, either. The Entity punished him because it was a vicious beast, no doubt changed by Ron over the centuries as much as Ron was changed by it now, but she would torture Ron simply out of necessity.

It was just another action to her, nothing more.

"So, just bad luck, then? That's why I was… chosen…" Ron whimpered to himself, feeling utterly hopeless. I'm really nothing, huh? Figures… Just a sorry cunt with awful luck…

"I chose well," Fate said, surprising Ron enough for him to look back up. What did she say?

Again, her words didn't match her uncaring expression.

"You saved a world from ruin tonight, Champion," Fate told him. "You completed your duty, and even as we speak; Albus Dumbledore takes control of the situation. The Ronald Weasley of that world will be buried with his uncles, and after a time; the Weasley Family will move on, but they will never forget to honour his sacrifice-"

"He really died…? Because of me…" Ron felt his guts churn, feeling wretched on top of everything else. I'm sorry, mate. I tried, but I'm not dependable… I'm useless. I should never have been there. I just… fucking lost it…

"He died when he struck his head, Champion," Fate said. Struck his head? "Philip Travers Charmed him. The impact of the fall on his skull killed him. I placed your soul within his vessel; his blood is not on your hands."

Ron felt a little relieved, but some of the guilt remained nonetheless. Some poor sod is dead, and his family… my family… will be mourning him. I resent the thought of that, of them being in pain because of me.

"Two souls cannot share a body, not without consequences," Fate said. "Mortals are fragile beings."

"I… What about me?" Ron asked slowly, wiping at his eyes for the last time. "I have the Entity in me, don't I?"

"The 'Entity' does not adhere to our Laws, as it predates them. It functions on a set of principles that are unknown even to me. However, like any mortal soul; it can be housed within a vessel, alongside the original occupant of the vessel," Fate finished. Vessel? I hate that word… She's talking about us like we're husks to be filled. Is that what we are to them? Just… husks?

"And it grants visions, and the ability to change the course of history," Ron put everything together, looking past her alien nature. "You couldn't interfere yourself, but a Deity not held back by your rules could do the job, right?"

"Yes."

"Fuck…" Ron spun in a pointless circle, clutching his hair and letting out a mirthless chuckle. A pawn in a game right from the start, Ronnie… You never stood a chance. Hold on a second… That Ravenclaw freeloader! "What about the other Ron? The one walking free inside me? Isn't he a human being? Bound by your Laws? I have two souls in me, so, you have to be wrong about this-"

"If you continue to Apparate, you will die," Fate said, cutting Ron short.

"What…?"

"He has not told you the full truth of his underserved freedom, Champion," Fate said simply. "I tolerate him, for he will make you powerful, but eventually; you must be rid of him. The longer he remains within you, the weaker you will become. Even now, your progress is suffering because of the burden your vessel is under." I can't Apparate properly… because of him…? And he knew this whole time? And did she just say that my progress is being hindered by him running free?

Ron felt his head spin; betrayal always left a pulsating pain in a person's chest, even if the person doing the betraying wasn't exactly a friend. Still, I thought we were… bonding… Fuck… I'm such a fool…

"I'm sorry," Ron muttered an apology, his mind reeling. People are just… cunts… All of them…

"Your apologies do little to change the Tapestry of Time," Fate said, making Ron wince internally. "Just as you saved a world tonight; you must save your own when the time is upon us."

"The time?" Ron asked. "What time?"

"When the Lord of Serpents is at his most vulnerable," Fate replied. "His anchor must be broken, Champion. That is essential."

"His Horcruxes?" Ron asked, feeling a bit of hope. "You know what they are? Where they are?"

"I know of them," Fate replied.

"You do?! You have to tell me, then!" Ron took a step forward. "Do you know where they are, as well?"

Like a record, she began speaking in that unfeeling voice of her; revealing her knowledge to him as if she were a tome herself. She's honestly terrifying… I'm sweating like a pig, and it's really hard to breathe in here. I feel like I'm being crushed, slowly and steadily.

Ron listened, silently waiting until she began speaking of a long-forgotten Ring. In the next five minutes; Ron was given the full story behind the Gaunt Ring, of the horrors committed by the Dark Lord which led to its creation. It was sickening to hear that a man could murder his father simply to extend his own life, but the Dark Lord was hardly even a man, now, right? Theo's report made no mention of the fucking Horcrux, but I shouldn't have overlooked it. Little Hangleton is important to him, how could I not see that? Fuck! I need that report. What else did I overlook?

"Little Hangleton…" Ron spoke to himself. "So, one of my past selves found this Ring and destroyed it… That's why you know it's in the Gaunt Shack?" He left it in such an unprotected place? Why? Is he really driven by… sentiment? "Are there any protections I should be aware of?"

"Indeed."

"Um… Tell me?"

"Only those of both worlds may enter the Gaunt home," Fate said. Both worlds? So, what? Like Muggle-Borns? No, the Dark Lord would never allow that… Half-Bloods, then? Like himself? Has to be it.

"I'm not a Half-Blood…" Ron sighed out.

"Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape must be brought to purpose," Fate said. Must be brought to purpose? Speak normally, please!

"They'll help me," Ron said, he knew they would. "Anything else?"

"Nothing that concerns you, Champion," Fate said, making Ron blink.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron asked, intrigued.

"Albus Dumbledore will retrieve the Ring," Fate said. "Do not concern yourself with its collection, merely its destruction."

"I have to warn them of any potential traps-" Ron tried.

"No, you do not," Fate said, stopping Ron. "Certain moments within the Tapestry of Time must not be changed, and as you are the Avatar of Change; you will not set foot within the Gaunt home." Certain moments? Is something bad going to happen? Is she playing another fucking game with me and the people I care about?!

"You… You tell me where it is, what it is… But you won't help me collect it safely?" Ron had to ask. "Why? Is something going to happen in that shack? This 'certain moment'… What is it? What happens?"

Fate said nothing, simply staring at Ron in utter silence. I can't even push an answer out of her… I'm powerless, and nothing can change that.

"So much for 'see desires met'," Ron muttered under his breath.

"You exist to serve me, Champion," Fate said. "I do not exist to serve you."

"I'm just a puppet, then?" Ron asked, feeling defiant once again. I'm nobody's puppet. She can think whatever she wants-

"You suffer only because you cannot face your reality," Fate said, catching Ron off-guard. "You resist me, you resist everyone, but eventually; this resistance will lead to your demise." Fate then placed her palm on his cheek, her eyes digging into his; leaving Ron pale and silent. "Let go of your old self, for you are no longer simply Ronald Bilius Weasley. You are the Champion of Fate;."

Ron barely kept himself from shaking again, it felt as though her words were digging their way into his head. The Champion of Fate… No, she doesn't care about me. She's going to damn me to an eternity with the Entity!

"If I'm your Champion, then why have you never helped me?" Ron asked timidly, carefully minding his tone due to her closeness. If I piss her off now, there'll be no chance of escape. Just torture.

"I am helping you, now," Fate said.

"No, before… When I needed answers; guidance. Where were you?" Ron asked, standing his ground.

"I have moulded you into the man you are today, my Champion," Fate said. Um… What? "I did not damage your brain-tissue by mistake, nor did I underestimate the World-Eater's commitment to your Cycle. I knew the World-Eater would injure itself in an attempt to contain the damage I left behind, just as I knew the World-Eater's Essence would merge itself, like a parasite, with its host. You are the culmination of my many experiments." Experiments…?

Ron's feet dragged him away from her, he felt as though she had slapped him repeatedly. Fate simply took a step forward, towering over him once again and making him feel as though he had strings attached to his limbs. She planned all of that…? The Entity… Me… All of us… We're just dancing to her tune, aren't we?

"I have existed for billions of years, Champion," Fate said, her expression and voice unchanged. "I have seen everything, heard everything, experienced everything. Your entire lifespan is less than a blink from my perspective." Fate took another step forward, while Ron stared down at his feet. "Resistance is futile, you will always serve my will. Once the Cycle is complete, you will return to my side, and accept your role as my Herald."

"Return to your… side…?" Ron didn't dare glance up. It's okay, just fucking relax…

"The Star of Madness cannot be relied upon, you have proven to me tonight that you are the more efficient solution," Fate said, freezing Ron in his spot. "You did not fail me, Champion; I was right to infect you with the Void."

"The Laws… Your Laws… They don't apply to me anymore?" Ron asked, realizing what she had truly done. "I'm part-Entity… You can interfere with my life-"

"The day I bound the Star of Madness to you, an Anomaly appeared within the Tapestry of Time; an unknown variable," Fate said. "You, my Champion, were that Anomaly. Unlike other mortals, my kin and I can appear to you; even speak to you. Now, however, you are part-Void, and therefore; you cannot be allowed to exist within Creation. You will instead serve me, once your duty on your world is complete. I no longer wish to employ the help of the Void; it cannot be controlled." The Star of Madness comes from the Void, and now; I'm like it? This… It's too much…

Ron just stood there, quietly listening to her explain how much of his life she had controlled without even setting foot on his world.

It broke his heart…

He had spent so much time resisting, fighting against all the odds, but in the end; he was nothing more than an upstart who didn't know his place in the Universe. Until now, that is. I'm her puppet; her perfect instrument… She poisoned me so she could control me forever, serving her every whim and allowing her to manipulate events within the different Universes. I'm her 'solution'…

"Champion," Fate said, raising his chin with one finger. "You are troubled, again."

"I'm…" Ron tried to think of something to say, but nothing could come to mind. I give up; she wins…

"You still need time to accept the truth," Fate said, but Ron quickly shook his head. Enough, Ron. Enough. Serving her isn't even half as bad as being the Entity's bunkmate, so you have to serve her, and serve her well. It's just that simple. You lost, accept it and move on. You're fucking nothing, and that'll never change.

"I understand my place…" Ron said, keeping his gaze lowered. "Tell me of the other Horcruxes. The Diary, the Locket, the Diadem… Three are already destroyed, and I'll destroy the Ring soon. Do you know where the Cup is? Did any of my previous Cycles find it?"

"It is hidden within the Lestrange Vault," Fate replied. "Deep within the Earth, far out of your reach. For now."

"The Lestrange Vault… He trusted them with it?" Ron asked, feeling his heart race. The Gaunt Shack and Gringotts, don't forget this.

"He trusted Bellatrix Lestrange," Fate said. "She is a threat to you, Champion. Do not underestimate her, or, her fellow fanatics."

"Do you know where the Loyalists are?" Ron asked, hoping for more.

"I do, but I will not share this information with you," Fate said.

"Why?" Ron asked. "I… I could kill them tonight! Right fucking now, I could hunt them down like the dogs they are!"

"Store your rage for your enemies, Champion," Fate said, giving Ron a reason to keep himself in check. "You are not ready for such prey, nor do I see any advantage in sending you to your death. Did I not tell you that the Lord of Serpents has regained his power?" Oh, yeah…

"How did he do it, by the way?" Ron asked, slowly looking back up. She's still got me pressed into a corner… Don't tell me that she has no interest in 'ascertaining' the concept of personal space?

"You aided him," Fate said.

"Pardon?" Ron blinked, looking truly taken aback.

"The Basilisk Venom," Fate said, jogging Ron's memory. "Gornuk sold the Basilisk's Venom Sac to Corban Yaxley, who later presented it as a gift to his Master. The Lord of Serpents has twisted your greed for gold to his advantage; creating a Potion which has empowered his current body exponentially. He will only grow more powerful, now."

"I… I don't… understand…" Ron mumbled, trying to picture how this could've happened. Did Gornuk really give it to Yaxley? The entire fucking Venom Sac?! And the Dark Lord… That's how he's become so powerful… He used it to make a… Healing Potion…?

Once again, Ron felt shaken down to his very core; he was now spiritually, emotionally, and physically exhausted.

He was utterly broken, and angrier with himself than ever before.

"He's killed so many… because of me," Ron realized, his gut twisting so painfully that he winced. "I… The fucking Venom Sac… I didn't think twice about… Gods…"

"You must take greater care, Champion," Fate said, still uncaring. "As my Herald, you possess great power. You can warp the Tapestry of Time through your actions, affecting the Fates of all those who exist around you."

"An Anomaly…" Ron muttered under his breath. "So… Do… Do other people not have free will? Are their lives really just decided beforehand? The Entity-"

"The First Prevaricator," Fate gave another name for the Star of Madness. "I have no say on what manner of lives mortals choose to lead; I am only the Chronicler. I weave what I witness, for that is my purpose." That's sort of comforting, I suppose.

"Have… Have people died because of my actions?" Ron finally managed; he had never felt so guilty in his life. "I mean, were there any people who would have lived… if I hadn't…" he trailed off. Please, say no. I'm begging-

"Yes."

Ron bowed his head, his heart clenching painfully after every beat. What have I done…?

"No war is fought without sacrifice," Fate said, completely unconcerned with the lives lost. "My Champion does not lament; nor does he surrender to guilt. He must be unshakable, both in body and mind. Do you understand?"

He didn't, not really… Was she trying to make him feel better? Or, was she telling him that he had no reason to feel guilty over his mistakes, as the lives lost could be chalked up to 'casualties of war'?

He didn't agree with that, especially not now. I have to fix this; I have to fix this right now!

"The other Horcruxes…" Ron whispered, still reeling. "Where are they? Where can I find them?"

Fate didn't respond immediately, instead staring at Ron as if studying him like her Tapestry of Time. Ron thought about meeting her gaze, but

"Destroy the Ring and the Cup, only then shall I reveal the final two Horcruxes to you," Fate said. Two more?! What the fuck?! The Diary, the Locket, the Diadem, the Ring, the Cup, and two more… Seven fucking Horcruxes, and that's not counting the Dark Lord himself… The Headmaster is not going to like the sound of this.

"You don't fully trust me…" Ron noted, not surprised.

"Would you?" Fate asked, and Ron simply shook his head. I've killed so many people, and I never gave that Venom Sac a second thought… How am I going to explain this to Professor Snape and the Headmaster? I'll have to tell them everything for this fuck-up to make sense; I have to tell them that I'm a Parselmouth. That I found the Basilisk, harvested it for money… They'll never forgive me for keeping this from them, nor will they ever trust me again.

Suddenly, a small part of him never wanted to leave this place. He did not want to face the disappointment, and the rightful anger, of his colleagues. He had made their bleak situation even worse with his poor judgement, and until now, none of them even knew why the Dark Lord was becoming more and more powerful each day. All my fault…

"What… What happens to me if I fail…?" Ron finally asked. "Will you let the Entity have me?"

"I will look to the next incarnation for success," Fate said, while Ron nodded to himself. I see… I fail; I suffer for eternity. I succeed; I lose my freedom. So, there's no victory for me, then… I've lost already. "My words have upset you."

They had done more than that; Ron had never felt the fight leave him before, not until this very moment. He couldn't find a shred of reason to keep going, all he could think about were the poor souls who had died thanks to his poor choices.

He was supposed to protect them, not hand their murderer even more power.

"It's all my fault, his sudden rise in power…" Ron mumbled, staring at his own feet. "People have died… because I gave him the means to kill them…"

"Yes."

Ron winced again, his trembling right hand struggling to clutch a wad of his hair.

"I'm sorry…"

"Words must be matched by action," Fate said. "You will return to your world in order to destroy the Lord of Serpents. Your allies have moved your corpse to-"

"My corpse?" Ron's eyes shot up on instinct.

"Your vessel is empty," Fate said. "I will return you to it."

"Right…" Ron heard himself whisper. "So… To Artyom, I'm dead… And he moved my body? To where?"

"Travers Manor," Fate replied. Emilia? He went to her? Why?

"And Solomon?" Ron asked quickly.

"He too is waiting for answers," Fate said. Answers? Not my forte.

"Um… Should I… Should I tell them about this?" Ron had to ask. "How am I going to explain dying all of a sudden? Or, coming back from said death, actually?"

"That is for you to decide," Fate said.

"For me to decide?" Ron repeated, unsure of what to do next. "I… I keep failing… down there… Every day is harder than the last… Can't…" he stopped himself, but his desperation was quick to take over. "Can't you help me…? Please…? I don't want to do this alone, I can't-"

"I have helped you," Fate said. "Your fate was to die, alone and in the cold, forgotten even by your most cherished ones. I have given you life, the opportunity to undo the mistakes of the past, and yet; you would ask more of me?"

Ron just stood there, staring at her through his bloodshot and hopeless eyes. I suppose, in her eyes, she's gone out of her way to give me over four hundred chances to get one job done… That's how it really is. She's endlessly patient, while I'm always useless… In each Cycle, I'm a fucking failure… It has to be me, right? I have to be the problem, not everyone else…

Fate suddenly began to vanish; her golden visage fading before Ron's very eyes. What's this?! What's going on?!

"Use any and all means, my Champion," Fate said, her voice echoing deep within Ron's mind. "The Lord of Serpents must be destroyed; the Balance must be preserved."

"Wait! I still have-!"

---

Emilia Travers' POV

Sunday 14th March, 1994 (Travers Manor – Past Midnight)

"Tell me what happened, again," Emilia said, her grip tightening around her hilt.

Artyom's eyes darted towards her sword, but he did not move away. He stood tall, despite his confused and shaken expression. He wouldn't hurt Ron; Gods rest his soul. It's Solomon that I don't trust. How could Ron just-?

Her jaw clenched; she was so close to shaking with rage. Someone was going to die tonight, whoever had murdered her friend had breathed their last.

"Talk," Emilia ordered, pacing back and forth in the dimly-lit living room.

"He doesn't know shit, nor do I, for that matter," Solomon walked up from behind Artyom, looking on edge as well. "I say we get rid of our dearly departed demon-"

"You so much as finish that sentence, and I'll cut your tongue out," Emilia promised, clicking her Oni-Blade out of its sheath just as she came to a halt.

"You don't understand what we saw, girl," Solomon said, gesturing between Artyom and himself. "We should be on our knees, prayin' to God-"

He suddenly stopped, his good eye widening in terror. Even Artyom went wide-eyed, taking a wary step back and brandishing his wand. What's the matter?!

"Fuck me…" Solomon grunted, shoving Emilia so hard that she turned to see a pair of crimson, toad-like eyes staring at her from the shadows of the doorway.

Her gut dropped, and she too took a wary step back. By all the Gods! He's alive?!

"Fuckin' do him in properly this time!" Solomon shoved Artyom, forcing the Russian to fly into action. NO!

On instinct, Emilia used her sheath to uppercut Artyom's wand out of his hand; sending it across the room. He quickly grabbed her wrist, but Emilia was faster; twisting the sheath in order to put pressure on Artyom's wrist. With one swift kick to the side of his knee, Emilia brought the giant down; ignoring his surprised look on his face as she swiftly; brought the pommel down onto his forehead, instantly knocking him out.

She then shot up to face Solomon, who was staring at Artyom with a thoughtful look.

"Are you going to try anything?" Emilia snarled.

"Me? No, why would I do that?" Solomon cocked his eyebrow, acting as if she was insinuating something. "Got excited, didn't I? That's all. The Anti-Christ walks among us, again. Let us rejoice-!"

"Tetsu o oru," Emilia chanted, Transfiguring her sheath into solid iron.

"Wait-!" Solomon started, but he was cut off by the force of being struck in the collar bone with an iron rod. "Fuc…kin'… hell…"

Despite his large size, the dangerous blow brought him to his knees. Through gritted teeth, he muttered something in Yiddish, but he never got to finish, as Emilia spun on her heel and brought the other one down onto Solomon's already injured collar bone. The Half-Troll crumpled, utterly winded and incapable of causing trouble.

"Ron?" Emilia turned back to the doorway. He's alive, how's such a thing even possible?! He was dead, I confirmed that myself!

He was limping over to her, his eyes that of a human being rather than that of a demon. He was struggling, that was obvious, and just as Emilia moved forward to help him; Ron collapsed onto all four and vomited.

"Ron?! You're really alive?!" Emilia kneeled by his side, gripping his shoulders.

Ron heaved again, but nothing came out.

"It's okay," Emilia tightened her grip, forcing herself to regain her composure.

"Your Elf… I frightened him, and he fainted," Ron panted, his head dangling. "I'm sorry…" Fainted? I'll summon him, that ought to jolt him awake.

"Godrey," Emilia summoned her Head-Elf, who snapped into the room after a few moments.

He was definitely frightened, and the moment he saw Ron; he let out an uncharacteristic yelp. Where is his stomach, tonight?

"Get a hold of yourself, you fool," Emilia frowned at her Elf. "Help me with him, now. He's shaking like a leaf, go feed the fire."

"At once, Mistress!"

---

One Hour Later

"Did he take a Vow of Silence in the afterlife?" Solomon whispered. "He's been sittin' there for an hour, starin' at the bleedin' fire-"

"Be silent," Emilia whispered back, her eyes never leaving Ron.

The redhead just sat there, motionless; his hollow eyes fixed on the crackling wood. Strangely enough, Ron had silently wept to himself at first, though why he would weep after returning from the dead was beyond Emilia. Coming back from the dead… It's just not possible. How did he do it? And, what did he see on the other side? I must admit, I can no longer live in the darkness about him. I mustknow what he is, and what his real purpose is. He is too powerful to be an unknown-

"Speak with him," Artyom said, nudging her forward. "Find answers for us."

Emilia shot a frown back, but she was met with Artyom's cold gaze. At least, he's got a hold of himself, now. Still, he is just as curious as Solomon and me, I can see it in his eyes. He's also just as scared of Ron as we are.

Emilia drew in a sharp breath; this had to be done. Someone had to say something to Ron, someone had to ask him about the other side. I wonder if mother and father are there, too? I hope it's a peaceful place.

Emilia approached Ron slowly, and judging by his lack of movement; he didn't even notice her presence. Be comforting, I can do that much.

"Ron?" Emilia whispered, kneeling down by the side of his chair. "Ronald? Is that really you?"

He said nothing; his bloodshot eyes lost within the flames.

"Ron, what happened to you?" Emilia asked, shooting a quick look towards Artyom and Solomon. "Did they hurt you? In any way? You can tell me."

"Hurt me?" Ron muttered, suddenly turning his head and gazing into her eyes. "Who? Those two?"

Emilia gave a slow nod; something was off about him. There was a bitterness in his voice that wasn't usually present, and this did little to help Emilia's own nerves. Ron was powerful and temperamental, which was a dangerous mixture within ambitious individuals. Don't be afraid, you know that he won't hurt you. He has principles; a code, just like you do.

"You were dead, Ron," Emilia whispered, leaning closer. "I checked you myself, there wasn't a speck of life left within you. How is this possible?"

"My world is stranger than yours," Ron looked back to the fire, becoming lost again. That's not good enough for me, anymore.

"I want an answer," Emilia said, standing her ground. "An actual answer."

Ron turned his head to face her again, a spark of rage flashing behind his lifeless eyes. Emilia felt the urge to back off, but she maintained her steady gaze; blue clashing against black. And then, very suddenly, Ron's anger was gone; consumed by hopelessness again.

"I serve a Goddess, and she sent me back to complete my work," Ron said, his voice bitter but his expression indifferent.

"What?" Emilia blinked, not believing a word. "A Goddess? You serve the Gods?"

Ron let out a mirthless chuckle and shook his head, his bitterness seeping into his expression. He was laughing, but he sounded like a wounded animal; one cornered by every hunter within the realm.

"What's he sayin'?" Solomon asked, walking over. "What's the joke, eh? Go on, tell us. We love jokes."

"Well, you are one, so it figures," Ron retorted coldly, standing up and fixing his bloody suit in place. "If you want answers, you won't get any. Plain and simple. Go home, I'm doing the same."

"That is not how this works-" Artyom started.

"We don't care," Ron cut him off. "We decide what we share, not you."

"We?" Artyom looked towards Emilia, who cocked her eyebrow at Ron. "What do you mean by 'We'?"

"We… Us… Me…" Ron mumbled, suddenly looking confused and in pain. "Fuck… Our head…"

His eyes began flashing red, but the moment he turned his head and cracked his neck; his eyes returned to normal and his expression became as cold as ice. Ron's short episode managed to disturb Emilia, it looked as though the demon inside was trying to adjust to the human skin it wore out in public.

"Me, the Champion," Ron whispered to himself, walking past all of them without even looking to them. What is happening here?! Is he… malfunctioning?! And what's this about him being 'the Champion'? The Champion of what?

"Ron, wait!" Emilia followed after him, while Artyom and Solomon followed after her. "You can't just leave-"

"Why not?" Solomon asked, still keeping his distance from Ron. "Let 'im go, I say-"

"He's covered in Fudge, that's why," Emilia hissed before looking back to Ron. "Ron, at least, take a bath before you-"

"I have to go home…" Ron said, whispering to himself. "I… need guidance… I need someone to tell me what has to come next… What I must do…"

"Guidance? Come next?" Artyom asked. "Your mother and father will not-"

"Artyom, get rid of Fudge's body, that's all I need from you, tonight," Ron said. "Just get rid of the cunt, okay?"

"Already done," Solomon cut in. "Had my boys dump 'im in the middle of the Pacific. No chance of 'im returnin' from the dead, is there?"

"No, he was mortal, so no returning from the dead," Ron said, not losing his pace. Another mortal?

"Wait… Are you… immortal…?" Emilia asked, looking Ron up and down. "Is that what you're implying?" Could it really be?

"Comin' back from the dead, I'd say that's pretty much gospel at this point, girl," Solomon grunted, eyeballing Ron.

"I'm… It doesn't matter; I'm no one of consequence," Ron said. "Forget what you all saw tonight; it'll be easier that way."

"Easy for who?" Artyom asked.

"For everyone," Ron shrugged half-heartedly, stopping in front of the fireplace. "I can't explain what I am, mostly because I don't want to, and you would never understand because you haven't witnessed what I've witnessed. All that matters is that we're after the same man; the Dark Lord. Once he's dead, I imagine we'll all go our separate ways. If we survive, that is."

"You owe us an explanation-" Emilia started, while Solomon and Artyom nodded their agreement.

"I owe you nothing," Ron said, preparing the floo. "You want revenge, Emilia, and because of me; you're closer to getting it, aren't you?" Yes, that is true. Without him, I wouldn't have removed any names from my list so soon. "Artyom is a mercenary, I pay him a small fortune for his services. I don't pay him to ask questions. And Solomon… I just don't trust him."

"Don't blame you," Solomon grunted, gesturing towards his own face. "With a mug like this, you get used it, you do."

"So? Do you still think I owe you anything?" Ron asked, turning to face Emilia with bright red eyes. "Do I ask you about your business outside of our arrangement?"

"No," Emilia replied, studying his glowing eyes. What are you, Ronald Weasley? And, why have you come to this world?

"Do I need to warn anyone about keeping tonight's events quiet?" Ron asked, his red eyes moving between the trio.

"Whatever, as long as I get paid, that's all that really matters," Solomon said, turning to leave. "Glad to be on Mastēmāh'sside in all of this, least I know I'll die rich." The what?

"This Floo can't take you to Britain," Artyom said, grabbing Ron's arm. "And your mother and father do not deserve to see you in such state. What will they think?"

"Floo?" Ron turned around, blinking. "Oh… The Floo… I'm preparing one…" That's it! He's in no shape to be moving around, it's clear that he's disorientated and agitated from his… rebirth? Gods… What am I dealing with here?

"You don't want to answer questions?" Emilia started, her voice becoming stern as she took charge. "Fine, you don't owe any of us a single answer. However, you just died, Ron! You died, and then, you came back as if the afterlife was just another stroll down Diagon Alley for you! Forget the millions of questions we have, at least try to recover first. You're in no shape to be walking about, let alone traveling via Floo."

"I have to get home…" Ron repeated.

"And you will, after Godrey helps you into a bath and into something less bloody," Emilia said firmly. "No debates, Ronald. Go upstairs and take a bath, at once."

Artyom and Solomon exchanged looks, but neither of them interrupted. Ron, on the other hand, eerily enough, sagged in stature, looking down at his feet like a scolded child. Once again, confusion danced across his face, eliciting genuine worry from Emilia.

She liked this odd, demon child; he had a kind heart beating within all that rage and hatred, even she could not deny this. He is a kindred spirit; a child without a childhood.

Emilia took a step forward, offering Ron her hand.

"Come," Emilia said, her voice softer but not without steel. "I'll show you the way."

"…Okay…"

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Sunday 14th March, 1994 (Travers Manor – Past Midnight)

Godrey's boney fingers continued to massage his scalp, while he admired the ripples within the large bath. The sight of their calmness eased the pain in his heart, the sheer regret that was threatening to drown him, but it was still not enough.

What Ron had done…

All the lives lost because of his actions… His carelessness…

If suicide were still an option, he would've done it the moment he had returned to this horrible place, not as an out, but rather, because Ron had served the Dark Lord far better than his degenerate followers ever had. Ron had all but handed the Dark Lord a way to return to power, and now, even more would die at that monster's hands.

There was no way to undo his mistake, no way to bring back those who had died because of Ron's meddling. That was the worst part; knowing that innocent blood had been shed directly as a result of his actions, and that nothing could be done to undo it. This was his punishment, and he deserved every second of it. I killed them… All of them. The Dark Lord's face might've been the last thing they saw, but it was me who sent out their death warrants.

His head fell again, his weary eyes landing on his reflection, and within a heartbeat; Ron's entire body was filled with anger and hatred for the idiot staring back at him. Damn you… I hate you so fucking much!

His eyes flashed red, and Ron found himself in a staring contest with his own terrifying visage.

The unnatural sight froze him in place, was that really his reflection? It was, wasn't it? Gods, how he had grown to admire it lately… He truly had become just another monster lurking in the dark, hadn't he? His hands clenched into fists, he wanted to reach into the water and throttle his reflection. I'm worse than even the Loyalists!

His eyes welled up with angry tears, and his blood began to boil.

The man in the reflection was the worst thing to crawl into existence, and he had to die in the worst possible way.

Justice had to be served!

"Master Weasley?" Godrey called, his large eyes darting towards Ron's reflection.

The Elf froze immediately, his fingers stopping their work as he continued to stare at Ron's eyes. Godrey was terrified, Ron could feel it in the air. It didn't surprise Ron in the least, but it did hurt… It hurt to know that he inspired nothing but fear from those around him, even the Elves, who lived to serve others. I don't blame them, though.

"Do you want to leave?" Ron asked Godrey. "You can, if you want. I can finish up myself."

"If that is Master Weasley's command," Godrey said, bowing his head before cracking out of the bathroom.

A deafening silence filled the bathroom, leaving Ron with nothing but his thoughts. The Dark Lord has all but returned, hundreds are dead, and there is no end in sight… I'll be dead before this war ends, so how can I win? What can I even do?

Nothing…

"You're useless," Ron hissed at his reflection, his eyes glowing brighter. "Utterly useless, and now, people are dead because of you."

Grief and regret bombarded Ron's mind, filling him with hopelessness and self-loathing. Without a second thought, Ron struck himself on the head hard enough to knock his brain about within his skull. Again and again, he lashed out at himself, but his anger only swelled with each blow. The reflection!

Ron shot up to his feet, putting an end to the calmness of the water. Fuck you! Ron all but roared at his wild reflection, losing all control over himself. I hate you so fucking much! If only I could fucking kill you as well! Ron punched through his reflection, swinging and thrashing about as his roars turned into panic-stricken screams. Die! DIE! JUST FUCKING DIE!

"Leave me alone!" Ron shouted so loudly that it hurt his throat, but he continued to scream and threaten the man within the water. "They're all dead because of you! MURDERER! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO PROTECT THEM!"

The bathroom door was smashed open, and Artyom sprinted in with his wand drawn; ready to defend his client, only to see said client screaming and lashing out at his own reflection.

"What are you doing?!" Artyom demanded, just as Emilia burst into the bathroom.

"Ron?!" Emilia went wide-eyed at him, but Ron just continued attacking his reflection wherever he saw it.

His shouting had turned into heart wrenching screams and hysterical sobbing, and he barely noticed Artyom climbing into the bath and dragging him out.

Ron just kept screaming and thrashing about, letting out his poisonous rage at the greedy fool who had killed hundreds for a few gold coins.

---

Arthur Weasley's POV

Sunday 14th March, 1994 (The Burrow– Early Morning)

"I'm just worried about him, love," Molly said, heading downstairs with her husband for breakfast.

Arthur didn't always wake up so early during the weekend, but Charlie's lack of a job had turned Molly into a banshee as of late, and she was adamant against any Weasley sleeping in. I still don't get why I have to be awake so early, it's Charlie who needs to go job-hunting, not me. That boy… I though living on his own would mature him up like Bill, but he's become even more temperamental and stubborn.

"Charlie will find something soon, Mollywobbles," Arthur promised. "He just needs time to adjust, he only-"

"Arthur, if we hadn't brought him back home; he would still be living with Sirius for free!" Molly reminded him. "Free, Arthur! We didn't raise our children to not carry their own weight, did we? I mean, just look at the others, even Ginny! None of them would do this-!"

"Sirius offered-"

"That's not the point," Molly said, frustrated. "The point is that Charlie is letting his life go off the rails because he's too stubborn to accept Ronnie's help. Just look at Kirsten! Her parents must be so proud of her!"

Arthur let out a tired breath, this was going to be a long day, wasn't it? Maybe I should talk to Ron about Charlie? Oh, who am I trying to lie to? Ron doesn't want me in his life, anymore… He doesn't even consider me his father at this point, I think. I've completely failed him, now.

Once again, Arthur was forced to push his pain inside in order to avoid upsetting Molly. It tore his heart apart to know that he had lost the respect and love of his youngest son, and all because he couldn't control himself, and in a moment of weakness; he had said the one thing that Ron had always feared. I was holding it in for so long… What kind of father am I? To want my brilliant boy to be less… problematic… My sick boy-

"Arthur? Are you even listening to me?" Molly asked as they neared the final few steps. "What are we going to do about him?"

"I'll talk to him, love," Arthur said, hoping to put her mind at ease. "If he doesn't want Ron's help, then he needs to go out there and speak with the right people himself. I know a few blokes at the Ministry who are looking for part-timers to help them with their work, maybe he could-"

"Good Gods!" Molly yelped suddenly, stopping just as she entered the kitchen. "Ronnie?! What are you doing here?!" Ron?!

Arthur all but jumped the last few steps, moving around Molly and looking towards the dining table. Ron… He's really here. There he sat, the youngest Weasley son, dressed immaculately in a tailored navy three-piece suit and his styled hair shining.

And yet, despite Ron's neat appearance; Arthur could see that his son was troubled. Ron's bloodshot eyes had noticeable black-bags under them, as if he hadn't slept in weeks, and his skin was as white as fresh snow. What's wrong with him? He's just… sitting there…

Arthur immediately began feeling apprehensive and unsure of himself, an effect that Ron's cold demeanor had on him, now. Whenever I look into his eyes, all I see is resentment and disappointment.

"Good morning," Ron greeted them, waving his hand and pushing two chairs out for them. I'll never get used to that. "Come and sit with me, I need some advice from you two." Advice?! From us?!

Molly and Arthur exchanged looks before quickly sitting down, inspecting their son thoroughly. Ron stared back at them, his unblinking gaze making Arthur feel small. Get a hold of yourself, Arthur! This is your boy! Your son, not Sebastian's! And he's here because he needs you! Shape up!

"Are you all right, son?" Arthur asked, leaning forward slightly. "When was the last time you slept properly?"

"Feels like years," Ron replied, his voice cold. "I'm sorry in advance, but I'm on the Calming Draught. Just a little, though; I needed it."

"Why?" Molly asked, reaching forward and placing her hand on the table.

Ron looked down to it, and eventually, he too reached across and took her hand in his gloved one. Molly smiled widely, giving Ron's hand a tight squeeze. How does she do that? She's put him at ease so quickly.

"I made a mistake, and it sent me into a panic," Ron replied truthfully, his full attention fixed on his mother. "So, I took the Draught; it's helping me focus."

"A mistake?" Molly asked. "What happened, love?"

"I didn't think something through, not fully, and now, there's no way for me to undo my mistake," Ron replied. "As a matter of fact, a lot of people were affected by my choice… By my stupidity." Stupidity? You're many things, Ron, but you are not stupid. Still, I wonder what's so terrible that it's put him in such a state. He's not in any danger, is he?

"Affected how?" Arthur asked, feeling a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. "Ron, what's happened? You're starting to scare your mother and I."

"Whatever's happened, we can fix it," Molly promised, tightening her hold on Ron's hand even more.

"I already told you that it can't be fixed," Ron said, his eyes withdrawing a little. "And I'm not here to fix my mistake, I'm here for advice."

"Advice on what?" Arthur asked.

"Life, I suppose," Ron replied vaguely. "I… don't know how to live, anymore. Just hear me out, first, okay? This isn't about my suicide attempt, it's more complicated than that."

Molly and Arthur nodded slowly, and Arthur soon felt his wife searching for his hand under the table. He took it immediately, rubbing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb, an act that often calmed down her nerves.

"Go on, son," Arthur said, preparing himself for everything. With Ronnie, you just never know.

"Lately, everything's just falling apart," Ron began, his posture perfect. "Tracey is all but dead because of me-"

"No, my love," Molly tried. "What happened to Tracey was not-"

"She got hurt because I challenged the powerful," Ron said. "It's true, and there's no point in denying that. I made powerful people angry, and she paid the price for my actions. Same with the Werewolves… I had to fight tooth and nail just to give them a roof over their heads, to put food in their bellies. I had to fight the Minister for Magic, for Merlin's sake…" he trailed off, his thoughts churning behind his eyes.

"Being good, doing good… It's next to impossible in this world, that's what I've learned," Ron continued after a brief pause. "I had such big dreams, mum… I was going to save everyone…"

"Save them from what?" Molly asked.

"Starvation, the cold, sadness, everything…" Ron all but whispered. "I just wanted to help other people."

"And you have!" Arthur couldn't bear it anymore; the thought of Ron giving into despair again was enough to push Arthur forward. "Ron, you've helped so many! So many! Molly, tell him! Tell him what happened at the market yesterday, please!"

"They wouldn't let us pay them, they just handed us the groceries for free with a smile!" Molly told Ron, who quirked an eyebrow. "Because of you, because of the good things you do every day! Merlin, Ron, if we didn't have the Fidelius Charm, we'd be getting gift baskets daily!"

"Gift baskets?" Ron asked.

"They've been sending them to my office," Arthur told Ron, his pride bursting through. "Every day, Ron! Every single day! And they're all for you! Wait!" Arthur hopped out of his seat. "Come with me to the shed, I've been putting them all there! I'll show you!"

---

Twenty Minutes Later

"Well?" Arthur asked, watching his son study each and every basket. He's sure taken a lot of interest in this. I suppose he's still a teenager, despite his intelligence. No child would refuse so many presents-

"Throw these away," Ron said, frowning at the baskets. "Throw them all away."

"Pardon?" Arthur blinked, jarred.

"Toss them, dad," Ron turned to face him. "For all we know, there are Cursed Objects hidden amongst these." Smart, but I already had them checked for Curses, Jinxes, and Hexes.

"I had Kingsley look them all over, they're safe," Arthur assured his son. "Ron, these are gifts sent by people who admire you, what you do for others. Surely, you can find a place for some of these, can't you?"

"There are toys in some of these, right? And lots of sweets, too," Ron asked suddenly. "Why not give these to the children within the Werewolf Sanctuary? I'm sure they'd love these." He'd give his gifts to them? Just like that? "Yes, let's do that. Help me get the toys and treats together, and then; we can make a quick trip to the farm."

"Right now?" Arthur blinked.

"No, next week," Ron said dully.

"There's no need for sarcasm, son," Arthur sighed out.

"Sorry, but yeah, let's get to work," Ron said, taking off his blazer. "We can get this done before mum finishes breakfast."

This was it, wasn't it? His chance to reconnect with his boy?

"No time to waste, then," Arthur said, shooting Ron a warm smile. He's a good boy, these toys and treats will mean the world to those poor children. And he's come to me for help, of all people. I'm not letting him down ever again.

---

Sunday 14th March, 1994 (Prosperity Farm – Early Morning)

"Are you sure about this?" Thaddeus asked, looking towards the many gifts lying beside the fireplace. "You've already done so much for us, there's really no need-"

"They need these," Ron said simply. "After everything they've endured, they deserve everything. Please, it would mean a lot to me."

Arthur smiled to himself, still keeping his silence and watching Ron work. It was bizarre, to follow the lead of his fourteen-year-old son, but Ron clearly knew what he was doing. He was polite, well-spoken, and somehow, he always got the answer he wanted. He even talked the staff into moving the arranged baskets in the middle of their work.

Sebastian had trained him well, as had his friends. In the past, Arthur would've been worried about others influencing his son to such a degree, but the more he listened to Ron; the more he came to realize that Ron did what Ron wanted. It was just that simple with him, there was nothing that stopped him from chasing after his goals. No one was controlling him, or, teaching him the wrong values. Ron had taken what he had learned from the rich and powerful, and he had used it to bring goodness into the world. I'll never get used to seeing him like this, but I'll accept it.

"Gods bless you, Ronald Weasley," Thaddeus said, smiling at Ron and putting his hand forward. "You truly are sent by the Gods, aren't you?"

"Just the one," Ron said, shaking Thaddeus' hand. What?

"Pardon?" Thaddeus chuckled, looking towards Arthur.

"Never mind," Ron said, looking to Arthur as well. "Ready to go home, dad?"

"You could join us, if you like," Thaddeus quickly offered. "Breakfast will be served soon, everyone's already waking up."

"I've missed my mum's bacon and eggs," Ron said. "And she's already cooking my portion, can't let that go to waste." Good lad.

"Ah, nothing can beat a mother's cooking," Thaddeus laughed. "But, please, you must dine with us soon. So many here have questions about you, and some just want to meet the man who saved them."

"If it means that much to you, then of course," Ron gave a nod. "I will come as soon as I can find time, you have my word."

"Excellent," Thaddeus beamed; he looked so full of life, now. The weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders, but that weight now rests on my son's shoulders. I should help him bear that weight, even if he doesn't want my help.

Arthur silently vowed to come around the farm more often in order to help run things, even if it meant doing basic tasks around the property. Ron wouldn't shy away from it, and I won't either.

"Dad, we'd best be off," Ron said, turning to leave.

"Wait, do you have any words for the children?" Thaddeus asked, and Ron turned back around with a thoughtful expression.

"No, just tell them that the gifts are from you," Ron replied, surprising both Thaddeus and Arthur. "It's more important that they all look up to you, I reckon you're a decent enough bloke. A good role-model. Plus, this would be seen as a kind gesture by everyone, it'll keep the other Alphas who brought their Packs here indebted to you."

"Wh-… Why would such a thing be important?" Thaddeus asked, shooting Arthur a perplexed glance. Scheming, again…

"I can't always be here, so that leaves you," Ron shrugged. "And this place is only getting started; I want it to last long after I'm gone. That's where you come in, Thaddeus."

"After you're gone…" Thaddeus said, becoming more sober. "You've really thought everything through, haven't you?"

"No, not everything," Ron said, heading towards the fireplace. "Best of luck to you, send me an owl and let me know if this works out in our favor."

With that, Ron tossed some Floo-Powder into the fire and vanished within the roaring, green flames; leaving Arthur and Thaddeus alone within the entry hall.

"I suppose, I better chase after him," Arthur broke the silence. "Don't want him getting into any trouble out there."

"He's fourteen, yes?" Thaddeus asked Arthur, looking perplexed again.

"Yes, just turned fourteen," Arthur nodded. "I know, it's very… unnerving… Isn't it?"

"Yes… No offense, of course-" Thaddeus started.

"No, none taken," Arthur couldn't help but chuckle. "You'll get used to it soon enough, I don't think Ron plans to leave this place alone for a while yet."

Thaddeus nodded to himself, looking towards the used fireplace and smiling a little to himself.

"You must be very proud of him," Thaddeus' smile widened.

"More than I can express," Arthur said, feeling guilt creep into his good mood. "Thaddeus, if it's all right with you; I'd like to come around every now and then. I want to help make this place work; it means the world to my boy-"

"Say no more," Thaddeus laughed. "Please, feel free to visit us at any time; we would love to have you and your wife over for dinner. Tonight, even, if you are free." Oh?

"We don't have any plans," Arthur smiled. "Tonight, then?"

"I'm looking forward to it," Thaddeus put his hand forward, and Arthur quickly shook it.

"Me too."

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Sunday 14th March, 1994 (The Burrow– Morning)

Ron finished up the last of his eggs; waving his hand and sending his dishes floating towards the sink. That's better, I really needed that.

"Did you enjoy it?" Molly smiled at him, and Ron gave her a nod.

"Nothing beats your cooking, mum," Ron said, though his cold voice failed to convey his gratitude.

"Maybe you should come down more often?" Arthur suggested, smiling as well.

"I just might," Ron said, standing up and closing his buttons. "I'd best be off; I want to have a nap before the Dueling Tournament starts."

"What are your chances?" Arthur asked, sounding very interested in Ron's life. He's been staring at me a lot today. Why? Is he up to something?

"My chances? Of winning?" Ron asked, and his parents nodded. "Absolute."

With that, Ron began heading towards the living room, eager to reach his bed before the students took to the hallways. Tonight, I'll need to sit down with Professor Snape and the Headmaster, I have to come clean before I make things worse. It'll be humiliating, and they'll never trust me again, but they have to know. Lives are at stake-

"Ron? What are you doing here?" came Charlie's voice from the top of the stairs, and Ron stopped immediately, looking up towards Charlie. He's here? I thought he moved in with Sirius?

"I wanted breakfast," Ron replied, studying his brother's unkept appearance. His hair's growing out, again. "Why are you here?"

"Um… I live here," Charlie replied, reaching the kitchen. "Morning, mum. Morning, dad."

"Morning, son," Arthur greeted back.

"Take a seat, I'll ready a plate for you," Molly got up, heading towards the stove. Odd, she doesn't sound very pleased with him. Is he in trouble? Best to fuck off before you get dragged into his problems, Ron.

"I have to go," Ron said, leaving unceremoniously.

"Oi, wait," Charlie quickly followed Ron into the living room. Damn. "You can't stay a few minutes? Catch up?"

"No," Ron replied, walking towards the fireplace, only for it to roar to life. Now, what? Who's coming through this early in the morning?

His question was answered within a heartbeat, as Kirsten stepped through the fireplace and nearly ran into him.

"Oh, sorry!" Kirsten stopped just in time. "Merlin, why are you standing right in front of the fireplace? Oh! Ron! It's you!"

"It's me," Ron said, his voice dull. "Hello-"

Kirsten pulled him into a tight hug, letting out a cheerful laugh at seeing him again so soon. Good Lord, she's got some strength in her.

"How are you?!" Kirsten asked excitedly, letting him go but holding onto his arms. "And look at you! So sharp! I love your style, Ron!" Why is she so loud? I'm mere inches away from her.

"Thank you," Ron put on a smile. "You're in good spirits this morning, Kirsten."

"Just off to work," Kirsten beamed. "I'm working a Swedish Short-Snout today, he's so beautiful!" Working on the weekend? Every time she opens her mouth, I respect her a little more.

"Well, good luck," Ron said, meaning it. "And good on you, I like your attitude. It's very refreshing."

"Thanks!" Kirsten laughed, pinching his cheek. Ow.

"Kirsten…" Charlie greeted, and almost immediately, her excitement was replaced by something else.

"Charlie," Kirsten finally noticed him, her shoulders tensing a little. "Your mother told me that you were back at The Burrow, again."

"Well, it's my house, so…" Charlie trailed off. This is awkward. I'm leaving.

"Pardon me-" Ron tried to move past Kirsten, but she held him in place with her left hand. Or, not.

"Charlie… You can come stay with me at The Leaky Cauldron-" Kirsten started.

"I tried, but mum and dad… Ugh… They can't understand that I've got things under control," Charlie shook his head. "Just give me a few days, I just need to find work and then we can-"

"Ron can help you, just like he helped me," Kirsten cut in, looking almost desperate. Did she just volunteer me to help? A bit rude, but whatever. "Charlie, please, stop being stubborn about this-"

"Here we go, again," Charlie sighed out.

"Ron, say something to him, please," Kirsten looked to Ron. My timing is brilliant, isn't it?

"I can help you, Charlie," Ron reminded his brother, shooting a glance back. "Just like you helped me when I came to you before Hogwarts."

Charlie shifted a little in his spot, his expression remaining somewhat stubborn. That was good, I reckon I can break him down if I push this point across. I wish I could always be on the Calming Draught; I don't make many mistakes when I'm on it. I think everything through properly.

"Kirsten, is that you?" Molly came into the room. "Oh, it is!"

"Good morning, Molly," Kirsten greeted, letting go of Ron and walking over to the Weasley matriarch.

Molly hugged the Dragon-Tamer, a bright smile on her face.

"Seems like everyone's missing my cooking today," Molly joked. "Come in, come in! I just cooked up some more eggs! Do you want tea, or, coffee?" This is my chance to escape.

Ron quietly began preparing the floo, ignoring the others until Charlie snuck himself next to Ron, giving his little brother a strange look. There, I'm ready to go-

"Are you on some Potion?" Charlie asked, trying to look into Ron's eyes.

"Yes."

"Oh…" Charlie drew in a sharp breath. "Is everything all right?"

"No."

"What's wrong?" Charlie asked. Hit him where it hurts, Ron; his pride.

"My brother is being stubborn, and it's costing him his relationship with a great lass," Ron stated, not caring about pulling his punches. "As a matter of fact, he's so stubborn that he can't understand that he helped me once, and I'm just trying to return the favor. Instead, my brother is wasting his life living with his parents, who really can't afford to keep him around indefinitely-"

"They called me back-" Charlie tried.

"Then, grow a pair and say no," Ron cut him off. "Or, you can just let me help you, and all this tension will just go away. Your choice, Charlie. Either way, I need to get going."

Just as Ron went to move towards the green flames, Kirsten called out to him.

"You're leaving?" Kirsten asked from the doorway. I'm trying my best, but it's not working.

"The A Rank Tournaments are on today, and I don't want to be late," Ron made up an excuse. Rank B will go first, so I have some time to rest and recover before my matches. I wonder who I'll face, today.

"Oh… Reckon you'll win?" Kirsten smirked. Who could possibly stop me?

"Yes," Ron replied, turning his attention back to Charlie. "Think about what I just said, I only want to help you while I still have time." That was good, and it'll definitely give him something to mull over.

"Ron… C'mon, don't say things like that," Charlie all but whispered. Then, stop being so damn inflexible about this. Honestly, we Weasleys have more pride than sense a lot of the time. It's probably why our Family lost its power so early, whereas cunts like Malfoy are still going strong.

"Send me an owl if you change your mind," Ron said, taking another step towards the fire.

"Ron?! Son?! Are you still here?!" Arthur called from the kitchen, entering the living room shortly after. Now, what? Can I please just go back to school?

"Yes, dad?" Ron looked to his father.

"You wanted advice, remember?" Arthur reminded him. "I just remembered what you said before… Do you want to talk before you leave?" I got the advice I needed; I'm far better off as the Champion of Fate. I'm at my best when I'm not trying to be something I'm just not anymore. The look on Thaddeus' face was proof enough of that; I do more good for others when I'm not chasing after personal happiness. This is my lot in life, and I have to accept that. There's no other choice, now.

"There's no need, now," Ron started, giving his father a parting nod. "I know what I have to do. Thank you for helping me this morning, I appreciate it."

"Oh, it was nothing, son," Arthur smiled widely. He's saying the word 'son' a lot, today. Eh, if it makes him feel better, who am I to stop him? "Best of luck on the Tournament, send your mother and me an owl after, please."

"And be careful!" Molly's voice came from the kitchen.

"That too," Arthur chuckled.

"You've got this, Ron!" Kirsten waved him off. "Don't take it easy on anyone, okay?"

"I won't," Ron promised; he had no intention of holding back anymore. Never again; I can't afford any more doubts, or, mistakes. I have to fix what I broke, and nothing can get in the way of that. Once everyone in Slytherin understands that I should be in charge, I can try to keep the Dark Lord out of their lives. I just need to figure out a way to influence a bunch of spoiled rotten teenagers into making a lot of selfless decisions. Brilliant…

---

Sunday 14th March, 1994 (The Entrance Hall – After Lunch)

He was going to be late for the Rank A Tournament.

Ron rushed down the stairs, his eyes fixed on his feet rather than his path. Bloody hell, how could I sleep in like that?! I'm going to get disqualified! He took a sharp left at the bottom of the Entrance Hall stairwell, bolting into the Courtyard. The Quidditch Pitch isn't far off! I can hear the others already!

Ron picked up his pace and focused on his breathing; he was not going to mess this up as well. All right, the Wooden Bridge, and then-

Ron came to an abrupt stop, digging his heels into the wood and grabbing onto a support beam.

"Headmaster?" Ron panted. "Professor Snape?"

"There you are," Snape frowned, beckoning Ron forward. Shit…

Ron was swiftly reminded of the conversation he needed to have with them, a conversation about his failings. It wouldn't be pleasant, but Ron was adamant about going through with it. The right information has to be shared, or, we'll keep making these mistakes. They have to know what we're dealing with.

"Dear boy, are you quite all right?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I was just in a hurry," Ron said, deciding to wait until after the Tournament. "I'm running late-"

"Where were you yesterday?" Snape asked, cutting Ron off. "I searched the entire castle, when exactly did I give you permission to move out of the dorms for such an extended period of time?"

"Severus, surely, this can wait," Dumbledore said, his eyes scanning Ron. "Is there something that you need to tell us, Ronald?" How does he do that? I wish the Calming Draught hadn't worn off just yet.

"Later, Headmaster," Ron replied. "It's… It's not good, but you both deserve to know." A man owns up to his mistakes, right? Well, here's my chance to prove the twins wrong.

Dumbledore and Snape exchanged looks, speaking without speaking.

"Are you hurt?" Snape suddenly asked.

"No, Sir," Ron replied.

"Then, we'd best be off," Dumbledore smiled. "Even Remus cannot stall indefinitely."

"Sorry about this," Ron apologized. "I dozed off, and before I knew it; I was running late."

"You certainly look like you needed rest," Snape said icily. "We will speak once you have won your matches."

"Yes, Sir," Ron agreed, not seeing an out. "Can I know who I'm facing first?"

"Your brother," Snape replied with a cold smirk, while Dumbledore chuckled merrily. "George."

---

George Weasley's POV

Sunday 14th March, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch – Afternoon)

"I'm telling you, the Slytherins get together and practise," Fred went on, and Angelina nodded alongside him. Ever since they hooked up, they've become horribly co-dependent. That was supposed to be our thing, Fred.

"And what of it?" George asked again.

"Well, it's not fair, is it?" Jordan piped in.

"You're just upset that you lost to Montague," Alicia said, she was sitting right behind George. Hello, gorgeous, when did you move over?

"He was wicked fast for a bloke his size," Jordan frowned at Alicia. "You got lucky, didn't you?"

"Oh, did I? I'm in Rank A, genius," Alicia scoffed and rolled her eyes, something that always got to George.

They hadn't exchanged more than a few letters, and she'd smacked his bum a few times as a joke, but that was the extent of their 'relationship'. Still, it's one of the few things that make this dull school bearable.

"These Ranks are a bit condescending, aren't they?" Jordan asked George.

"B Rank," George coughed, smirking when Alicia began laughing.

"Whatever," Jordan said glumly, noticing that even Fred and Angelina were sniggering. "How come we didn't get together and train? Gryffindor should be winning this thing, right?"

"Did you train at all, Jordan?" Fred asked, still sniggering.

"Well… No," Jordan chuckled, ruffling his thick dreadlocks. "But that's not the point, is it-?"

"Isn't that your brother, George?" Alicia suddenly asked, pointing down towards the arena.

George and Fred moved off of their seats together, peering down at Ron, who was idling about alone beneath some shade. It's really him!

"Blimey, he's here," George muttered, suddenly feeling a little nervous. It's okay, George. It's just a friendly competition.

"We should go down, yeah?" Fred leaned in and whispered. "Give him the Potion?" I'm not sure about going through with this, now.

"We should," George stood by their earlier decision.

"Angi, I have to go down and say hello to my brother," Fred said, shooting Angelina a wink. "I'll be right back."

"Tell him we send our regards," Alicia told George. "Right, Jordan?"

"Yeah, he's a decent enough bloke, if you believe the papers," Jordan said, still looking glum.

"All of that is true, so you'd best believe it," George said without hesitation. "Fred?"

"Onwards," Fred began leading the way.

"Oi, you're in the way," Kenneth hissed. "We're trying to watch the Duel-"

"Clearwater, or, Wood?" Fred kept moving at the same pace. "C'mon, Kenneth, use that head, will you?" Wood could run circles around the pitch for half a day, and he'd still win.

"It's interesting, now, move!" Kenneth all but snarled, while Fred and George moved out of the way. Tosser.

"Let's go, your match is next," Fred said, heading towards the exit.

George followed after his twin, despite his growing nervousness. Losing to his little brother would be embarrassing enough, but it was nothing compared to losing to his little brother in front of the entire school. Alicia, Angelina, Katie, Oliver, Jordan… All of my mates will be watching.

"You all right? You look constipated," Fred commented as they travelled down the wooden steps.

"Was hoping that Ron would be a no-show," George shrugged. "Not keen to go up against him, that's all."

"That's what he wants, George," Fred said, tapping his temple. "That whole lightning stunt of his? You know what that was for, don't you?"

"Of course, I do," George replied. "And, it worked, didn't it?"

"Just remember the plan," Fred sighed out. "He's still Ronnie, right? He'll run off screaming, I bet!" This plan… It feels a little cruel to me. Percy's going to bite my ears off after, no doubt. Ginny, too.

"Wait, if we're going to go through with the plan, do we have to give him the Nutrition Potion?" George asked.

"What? George, we already agreed on that," Fred stopped, turning around. "We've finally made some progress-"

"It tastes vile," George said dully.

"But the effects last twice as long," Fred added, wagging his finger. "The taste only lasts for a few seconds, and we're long overdue on our promise. Who'd have thought that a mixture of Billywig stings and Wolfsbane would do the trick? Nutrition Potion, with a hint of the Wide-Eye Potion. Brilliant!"

"But why give it to him right before my match with him?" George asked. "Isn't that a tad too… charitable?" You're literally making him stronger! Do you want to be 'just Fred'? Is that it?

"Scared you'll lose?" Fred smirked. Yes.

"You'll have to face him, eventually," George reminded Fred. "You just got lucky with your draw."

"Cho's quite brilliant, especially on a broom," Fred pointed out. "And she's done well in her Duels-"

"She's a bookworm," George said. "A bookworm, George… I have to go up against Ron, our snake-brained brother."

"Don't say anything about his brain," Fred clicked his tongue, looking cross for a moment. Brain? It's just a word, we've done a lot worse than use words when it comes to Ron.

"Just give it to him after," George said, moving on.

"What would Alicia say?" Fred asked. What?!

"Sod off," George blurted out. "What about Alicia?"

"I've seen you, in class," Fred replied, making George's ears go red. "She'd think you a coward, brother dearest."

"You wouldn't hand it over if you were up against him," George accused, moving past Fred and heading down the spiral stairway.

"I would too, because we came up with a plan," Fred said, following after George.

"A really daft plan," George added.

"It's brilliant," Fred ignored his twin. "It'll catch him off-guard, I'm sure of it, and that'll be your chance to win, George."

The pair made their way onto the pitch, spotting Ron still standing under the shade. It's almost like he's hiding.

"Wood is giving it to Bole," Fred commented, while George took the time to study his younger brother. I can barely see him, why's he hiding away like that?

As they got closer, George finally made out Ron's appearance. He was wearing his training outfit, the white jumper and trousers of the Auror Training School. The colour of his clothes matched the colour of his skin, and judging from his blank stare; he was there only in body.

The sight bothered George, it bothered him greatly. Merlin, I can't even look at him without feeling wretched. He's been through so much, I never imagined Ronnie's life would turn out this way.

"Ron!" Fred greeted, smiling and patting Ron on the arm.

"Oh, hello," Ron greeted back, looking between the duo. "George, how are you feeling? Ready for our Duel?" I mean, we did prepare a tactic, but I'm still not sure about using it.

"Are you?" George asked, poking Ron's side.

"Don't do that," Ron chuckled tiredly, batting away George's hand. "I don't like being tickled; it makes me nauseous." The Tickling Charm!

"Oh? Sorry," George said, fighting the urge to grin. "Fred and I brought you something, by the way. Care to have a look?"

"A present?" Ron blinked. "What for?"

"Remember what we promised you?" Fred asked, pulling out a small vial filled with a greyish fluid. "A new and improved Nutrition Potion, just finished it up yesterday!"

Ron stared at the potion; his expression wary.

"It's not pretty, but it'll do the job," George promised. "Trust me, we already had some ourselves." I do feel more energetic than usual, maybe we should drink these before our Quidditch games-?

"You understand how suspicious this is, right?" Ron suddenly asked.

"Pardon?" the twins asked.

"You're giving me a potion before our Duel," Ron said, looking to George. "Get it?"

"Hold on, this potion will help you," George said. "We spent a lot of time on this, Ron, don't be like that."

"A lot of time," Fred repeated. "Just have it after the Duel, if you think we'd stoop so low." Is making Ron feel guilty allowed?

"You… really made that for me? A stronger Nutrition Potion?" Ron asked slowly, looking back to the vial. No, we made it because we like the taste… Of course, it's for you.

"Here," Fred tossed Ron the vial, nearly making George shriek from panic.

Ron caught it, eyeing the contents up-close. Does he still think that we're up to something?

"What's in here? And, how did you even manage this?" Ron asked, looking back to his brothers with a hint of awe. Merlin, I haven't seen that look in a while.

"Wasn't too hard," Fred puffed up, smirking. It was horrible, we've never fought so much before. "It really does work, Ronnie. We're even thinking of making this into one of our products, places like St. Mungo's would even invest in these!"

"They would," Ron began smiling. "And it would help a lot of people in recovery." That would be grand, actually. Mum and dad would be really proud of that, I reckon.

"Oh, yeah, that too," Fred nodded. "So, are you going to have it?"

"No," Ron shook his head, pocketing the vial. "I'll have it after I've won my matches."

"After you've won?" George cocked an eyebrow. Damn, he's confident to boot…

"A bit arrogant, don't you think?" Fred cocked the opposite eyebrow.

"Stop that," Ron's smile widened. "And no, it's not arrogant."

"Then, pray tell, what is it?" Fred asked.

"Go on," George added.

"It's certainty."

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Sunday 14th March, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch – Afternoon)

The whispering became much more audible as soon as he stepped onto the sandpit, his absence yesterday had been noticed by everyone. This is why I didn't want the spotlight on me. How am I going to explain where I was to everyone? What am I going to tell my friends? I'll have to come up with something later.

Shaking his head clear, Ron stopped at the centre of the sandpit; keeping his eyes trained on George. It was bloody unfortunate that one of the twins was Ron's first opponent, especially given the pleasant exchange they'd just had. I won't take it easy on him. I just can't. Sorry, George.

"Are you both ready?" Remus asked, and both wizards nodded.

"Good luck, little brother," George said, a smug smile on his face. Trying to get to me?

Ron said nothing, opting to keep his focus on the Duel rather than get into a battle of wits against someone more intelligent. I'll need to put some distance between us. I have no idea how good George is at Non-Verbal Magic, he might even be faster than me. I'll start with a Depulso, then, it's almost instant.

"Begin!" Remus clapped his hands, stepping back.

"Depulso," Ron was quick to bat George onto his arse with a flick of his left hand. I need to end this fast, before he can start pulling out his tricks.

George, despite being knocked down, immediately rolled back onto his feet, breaking into a dash in the opposite direction of Ron. What the…? Ron threw three consecutive stunners at George's back, but George's Beater reflexes kicked in, and he hopped to the right without even looking back. Bloody hell, he got away.

George suddenly came to an abrupt stop, spinning on his heel in order to face Ron with a pleased smirk. Here comes the teasing; he can't help himself.

"A bit slow, mate," George laughed, waving at him.

"Seriously, George," Ron nearly groaned. "Just come back here-"

"You come over here," George was quick to shoot back. I'm not chasing you around the sandpit, we're not playing tag here. "Or, are you too chicken?"

"Really…" Ron muttered under his breath, giving George a dull look. I guess I'll need to embarrass him, then. No other way about it, it's got to be done.

Ron began walking over to George, his Cypress Wand held casually by his side. I'll have to corner him, which should be pretty easy for someone like me.

"Oh, you're just going to walk over to me?" George laughed, throwing a couple of lazy stunners at Ron."Think you can keep up-?"

"Pix!" Ron chanted, feeling his wand vibrate and jerk as soon as he took aim. Hold it steady, Ron. This is one messy Charm.

Thick, black blobs of tar shot forth from Ron's wand, splattering the sand to George's right. While George eyed the ominous sludge, Ron trapped George between two long lines of pitch by covering the sand to his left as well; ending the first phase of his plan.

"What is that?!" someone called from the stands.

"I can smell it from here!"

"Smells foul!"

"That's Pix, it's the Charm to summon pitch for torches!" Thank you, Marty.

"Ron, is that really…? Oh, fuck…" George's eyes went wide. "Let's not do anything rash-"

"Flagellum Inferos," Ron closed his left hand into a fist, watching George's horrified expression as a long, fiery-red tendril grew out of Ron's bone-white hand. Easy, Ron. Focus, you can hold it without Cutis Terra if you keep your head clear. Think of Stoatshead Hill, use that Occlumency to stay sharp.

Ron drew in a deep breath, taking a moment to observe his brother before swinging the fiery tendril at the pitch; igniting it. With a monstrous roar, the 'Hell-Fire' shot up on both sides of George, who shrank as his world turned bright red.

Ron began walking again, entering the corridor made of Hell-Fire; the Hell-Whip dragging behind him while his wand remained fixed at George's chest. If you want to get out, now; you'll have to go through me. Or, you can just run backwards, and cross the arena's boundary.

"What's the matter, George?" Ron asked calmly, getting closer with each step. "You're frozen, are you? I thought you'd be more impressed than scared-"

"Are you insane?!" George yelled, doing pointless circles and frantically eyeing the fiery walls for an exit. "Ron, we could die in here! We have to get out!"

"Then, run backwards and lose," Ron said, making George stop. "Go on."

"You…! What the fuck, Ron?!" George looked utterly unlike himself. "Stop right there! Hold on for just a second, this isn't funny-!"

With a wave of his wand, Ron sent a torrent of orange flames at George.

"Protego!" George raised a shield, saving himself from getting burned in the nick of time. Not bad, he's got decent reflexes. I ought to press my advantage while I still have it, you never know with the twins.

Ron commenced a barrage of Non-Verbal Spells, sticking to the basics in order to cut the time in-between his Spells. With George's dodging capabilities compromised, he was forced to stumble backwards as he covered his retreat. However, with each step Ron took, it became more and more evident to George that there was no escape; he had to rely on the plan he was so unsure about.

Very suddenly, George dove onto his back in order to buy himself a few moments, immediately casting a Tickling Charm at Ron from below. That's what he went with? Really? Ron punched through the Tickling Charm with his gloved hand, taking advantage of the Basilisk Skin's ability to neutralize weaker Magic. This can be my way of Parrying Spells until I Master the actual technique. It's not exactly fair, but then again; what is?

"I expected more from you," Ron admitted, nearly upon George. "You got scared from that little trick? I'd never let you touch it, George."

"Aranea Amplecti!" George chanted, jabbing his wand forward.

A bright green light replaced the red for a brief second, followed by the sound of loud clicking. George had summoned a man-sized spider a few feet away from Ron, freezing the younger Weasley from sheer fright. Merlin's balls! Look at the size of it! Are you fucking joking?! This fucking day!

The massive spider let out a blood-chilling hiss; it's eight legs moving rapidly as it charged its prey. Die, you eight-legged freak of nature! Ron brought his left fist down from over his head, bringing with it the scorching Hell-Whip. Like a hot knife cutting through butter, the whip sliced the spider down the middle; its remains rolling past Ron.

There was a roar from the crowd, but the excitement was drowned out by the rising heat and the smell of burnt flesh. He summoned a fucking spider?!

"That was uncalled for," Ron frowned at George, the whip vanishing from his hand. Ugh, so fucking disgusting! I didn't know they were so hairy! Why do they even exist?!

"You… just killed it…" George eyed the remains, taking a few wary steps back. "You cut it in half, Ron!"

"Why'd you summon it?!" Ron shouted back.

"To scare you!"

"Well, it fucking worked, didn't it?!" Ron's frown deepened. "Merlin, that's just… Look at this mess! It got on my shoes!"

"I'd rather not…" George gagged, turning his head away. "Oh, no…" Is he honestly looking away from me?

"Stupefy," Ron fired a stunner towards George, not getting distracted by their back-and-forth.

Luckily for George, the stunner was quicker than his stomach; it even carried him past the flames and right out of the arena. Wow, I'm only sweating from the fire. George was… pathetic… Is Fred the better Duellist? I doubt it; he wound up dead in my very first vision. And then again in Diagon Alley… Shit, I have my work cut out for me.

"Match!" Remus called; his announcement was followed by loud cheers from every stand.

The Hell-Fire began to sizzle down to mere embers, and then; it simply sank into the sand, smothering itself. Woah. Headmaster? Ron looked towards the old man, only to see the Headmaster beaming down at him. He didn't do it-

"That was well fought, Ronald," Snape limped over, sheathing his mother's wand.

"What did you do to my fire?" Ron asked, ignoring the overexcited audience. "And since when do you hand out compliments so freely?"

"I was merely being polite," Snape said icily, returning to his cold demeanour.

"And there he goes, back inside that heart of ice-" Ron started.

"Yes, you're very funny, be on your way," Snape limped past Ron, heading towards the dead spider. Get the last word in!

"Enjoy cleaning my mess," Ron smirked.

"That is the recurring theme with us, lately," Snape drawled. Fuck…

"That was just rude, is what that was," Ron muttered under his breath, heading off towards the Slytherin stands. Still, that was a good one, and he's not wrong. Damn, he has no idea of the mess I've made this time.

"Ron!" came Theo's voice, and Ron finally noticed his friends standing under his shade. "Mate, that was brilliant!"

"And good work on showing your brother who's the better wizard," Blaise added, giving Ron an actual smile. Odd.

"Hello," Ron greeted them, putting on a smile. "I see that you all turned up to watch me." Even Millicent and Draco. Doubly odd.

"I came to watch Clara, and she was brilliant!" Pansy exclaimed. "She's made it to the Quarterfinals!" Really?

"And Carey?" Ron asked.

"What about us?" Theo sniggered.

"I know you made it," Ron said, patting Theo on the cheek.

"Of course, I did," Theo grinned, sparking pride in Ron. "You know me, right?"

"Fast as lighting," Ron answered, skidding his feet back and forth. "Good on you, mate!"

"Merlin…" Draco rolled his eyes. "Can you two do this later? Perhaps, when the rest of us aren't around?"

"If you let them start, they'll never stop," Blaise spoke from experience. "They both love the sound of their voices too much."

"Even my friends envy me," Theo breathed in deeply, speaking more to himself than the group. He's definitely going to get strangled one day.

"Well? Did Carey make it?" Ron looked back to Pansy.

"Yes, but she didn't really put on a show," Pansy replied dismissively. That's two key players from our side making it in Rank B, and since Samantha's first match is one of the last; we won't have to face each other until much later in the Tournament. Finally, some fucking luck! If Slytherin wins all four Tournaments, my leadership will be cemented, and no one will question the long training sessions again. I can finally begin preparing Slytherin House for the hard future ahead of us.

"And you lot?" Ron looked around, even making sure to look at Millicent. "How did you do? Did you make me proud?"

"We all did quite well-" Daphne started, but Pansy shot in front of her; a wide smile suddenly plastered on her face.

"I won both of my matches!" Pansy all but announced, her eyes expecting.

"Pansy!" Daphne huffed in indignation. "Don't be so rude!"

"Is she lying to me?" Ron asked Blaise.

"Wow…" Pansy put her hands on her hips, eyeballing Ron. Is she trying to look tough? "You should have some faith in your friends, Ron. That was poor form."

"She's pulling my leg, isn't she?" Ron looked back to Theo.

"Oi! Stop it, I really did win my Duels! Both of them!" Pansy smacked his arm. "You're ruining my moment, Ron!"

---

Nearly One Hour Later

A lot had happened in his absence, perhaps even far too much. Still, the lack of control was compensated for by the knowledge that his friends had indeed made him proud, even Draco bloody Malfoy.

Their success, and the overall success of Slytherin within the Duelling Tournaments, was proof enough that being more efficient was more important than being soft-handed. Kind words and gentle encouragements didn't always get results, whereas fear and punishment did. If he hadn't put his foot down, and pretty much forced everyone to attend his mandatory training sessions; Slytherin would be doing as poorly as the other Houses. Worse, even, considering that we're not exactly the House that favours any physical activity besides Quidditch.

"What are you thinking about?" Blaise suddenly asked. "You look… bothered…"

"Do I?" Ron asked, putting on another smile.

"And why do you keep doing that?" Blaise asked, his brow furrowed. "You don't need to smile if you don't want to, mate… It looks off, anyway." Oh.

"Sorry," Ron shot a subtle glance at the others, all of them were discussing Pansy's big date tonight. All except Blaise. Coincidence? Or, did my visions really hold some meaning besides being a tool for torture?

"What happened to you, yesterday?" Blaise whispered, scooting closer to Ron. "We're all wondering, but none of them are going to come out and ask."

"Is that so?" Ron asked in response. "Why not?"

"Would you tell us?" Blaise asked. No, at least, not all of it.

"I had a meeting with the Minister," Ron told Blaise, who immediately looked a lot more interested.

"You really met the Minister yesterday?" Blaise asked. "Are you two… friends, now? You seem to run into her a lot, Ron."

"It's by design," Ron admitted that much. "I expect her to do a better job than Fudge, but in order for that to happen; I think she'll need my… guidance, for lack of a better word."

"Guidance?" Blaise blinked. "She's the bleeding Minister, Ron… She didn't get there by chance." She got there because I put her there.

"No, she didn't," Ron nodded. "But, regardless of how she got there; she's not exactly the issue. The whole system is corrupt in one way, or, another. Believe me, Blaise, if you saw the Ministry's true face; you wouldn't be so keen to trust them to lead."

"Well, your Quibbler is doing a good job of making the Ministry look incompetent," Blaise said. "That article on Fudge... It was hard to believe the words on the page because of just how bold he was with his… Oh, who am I joking? My mother probably bribed him too, at some point, and with more than money, given her habits." That's just gross, even she wouldn't stoop so low as to sleep with a cockroach.

"Have you heard anything from her?" Ron whispered, while Blaise shot another glance at the others.

"No, Ron," Blaise shook his head. "She… She's playing some sick game with me, letting me stew in my own misery. Bitch…" Woah, is it just me, or, is he becoming increasingly more hateful towards his mother. I mean, I don't blame him, but I don't like seeing him act more like me. We already have enough monsters running about, we don't need another one.

"Everything's going to be all right," Ron promised, putting his arm around Blaise's shoulders. "I'm here, aren't I? I know you're scared, probably even angry, but with someone like your mother; it's just wiser to be more cautious."

"I know…" Blaise whispered back, looking slightly distant again.

"Look at me," Ron gave Blaise's shoulders a squeeze, and Blaise reluctantly met his gaze. "I'm here, and I've got your back. Got it?"

"Yes," Blaise eventually replied, his voice an odd mixture of relief and dread. "And, thanks… I know this isn't really your fight-"

"It is when my friends are being threatened," Ron said simply. "Do you still plan to stay with Pansy?"

"I do," Blaise replied, while Ron smothered his own feelings on the matter. What you want isn't important, what's important is what Blaise needs. Don't become distracted by anything.

"I expect you keep me updated," Ron decided to add. "I can't help if I don't know what's going on, right?"

"Are you really planning to go to another Junior League Tournament?" Blaise asked. "Not that it's my business, mate, but isn't it a little… pointless?" I'm not going there to play Chess with amateurs, I'm going there to fight for my friend's life. "Plus, with all that's happening; Daphne wants all of us to spend more time together during the Breaks."

"She does?" Ron blinked, his eyes quickly darting towards Daphne.

She had that subtle smile on her face which she only wore in public, but behind her eyes; Ron could see that she hiding a laugh because of Pansy's elaborate methods of explaining her 'plans'. Despite their constant fighting lately, Ron could still take solace in the fact that Daphne would do right by their friends, even when he wasn't there to egg her on. Maybe spending all that time taking care of me has made her a lot more like Mary, and a lot less like Lord Greengrass? Merlin, it feels so weird not knowing what's going on in her head… We used to talk about everything-

"You're staring at her again," Blaise noted, and Ron quickly looked back ahead. "Are you two still fighting over Millicent?"

"Yes…"

"But you haven't said a word to her, even after what she did," Blaise said slowly.

"Apparently, not saying anything is worse than saying something cruel," Ron shrugged. "Whatever… She'll get over it…"

"I don't think she will," Blaise said, causing Ron's stomach to twist. Stop getting distracted! You can't be with her, anyway. You planning to take her to the afterlife with you? "Maybe… You should talk to Millicent?"

"What?" Ron was surprised to hear that.

"I'm about to lose everything I've ever known," Blaise shrugged, giving Ron reason to pause. "I don't want to lose my friends too…"

"I… Blaise…" Ron was lost for words; he hadn't expected such a thought from Blaise Zabini. He's really been feeling that way? Why? I'd never leave him behind, ever!

"It doesn't matter, what's going on between you and the girls is not my business," Blaise distanced himself quickly. "It was just a suggestion-"

"You're not going to lose your friends, Blaise," Ron tried.

"I'm going to lose you, aren't I?" Blaise asked in response, stopping Ron. "We all are, so when you become distant and isolated for weeks on end, that's time we're never getting back… Maybe, that's why Daphne is so adamant about this? We will all still be friends years from now, Ron, but you… We're going to lose you, and we can't do a single thing to change that… Daphne can't do a single thing to change that, and clearly; she's not taking that very well."

Ron hadn't thought of his imminent death driving Daphne forward, but it did make sense that she'd want them all to stay together till the very end. Especially after Trace… Shit… Ron said nothing, silently contemplating Blaise's words until Remus called out his name for the next Duel.

"Ronald Weasley and Oliver Wood, please come down for your match!" Remus called out. That's me, then.

"I'd wish you luck, but I doubt you need it," Blaise said as Ron stood up. "And don't worry too much about what I said, I was just-"

"I'd like to continue this conversation later tonight," Ron said. "Want to have dinner with me? Just us?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?" Blaise smirked. "Sorry, mate, but you're a little too red for me-"

"We're having dinner together," Ron said, shooting Blaise a genuine smile before heading off. Blaise… He doesn't say much, but when he does; any smart man would listen.

"Good luck, Ron!" Pansy waved at him.

"Don't need it," Ron shot her a wink, making her giggle.

"Don't lose, I've got money on this-!" Theo started, but a swift smack from Daphne stopped him. "Sorry."

"Don't push yourself too much, please," Daphne said to Ron, sounding rather civil. "Just finish it quickly, okay?"

"Sure," Ron said, unable to bring himself to smile in her direction. I wouldn't mean it, and she'd be able to tell. "Right, bye…"

"Bye," Daphne said, both of them staring at each other.

Their friends said nothing, awkwardly waiting about until Ron decided to be on his way. Even after everything he had just been through, even after deciding that he was done being Ronald Weasley; he still wanted her to wish him luck like she used to.

As Ron made his way into the arena; he found himself not wanting to be there anymore. The roaring crowd was taxing his nerves, his conversation with Blaise had given him plenty to think about, and now, he found himself missing Daphne more than ever, despite her being only a few yards away.

He was a mess, and that needed to change as quickly as possible, for everyone's sake. But how? How do I change? It's so fucking hard-

"Ron? Are you okay?" Remus asked, eyeing the young wizard.

"Yes," Ron lied, looking around for Wood.

"Are you sure? You look a bit sick," Remus said, studying Ron's pale face. "Do you want me to delay the match? You can go after Elora and Maximus-"

"I don't want to hold anyone up," Ron said. "It's okay, Remus, I feel fine." Plus, I doubt this'll last long, Daphne asked me to finish it quickly and not strain myself. I don't want to worry her.

The Gryffindor Quidditch Captain finally appeared; he had clearly rushed down from the stands.

"Sorry, Professor," Wood apologized. "Can't hear anything up in the Gryffindor stands."

"Your Housemates are cheering too loudly for me?" Ron asked, looking up towards the Gryffindors and waving.

Strangely enough, many waved back and cheered for him; his recent rise in popularity was showing no signs of letting up. Some good deeds and a sob story are all it took for them to be convinced of my 'goodness'. People really are fickle in their opinions, aren't they?

"Shame that they won't be cheering for long," Wood said challengingly. "I'm not here to lose, Weasley." But you will, and within a few seconds to boot. I've faced Gods and Death-Eaters, mate. What could you possibly do to me?

"You're not the first bloke to say that to me, and you definitely won't be the last," Ron shrugged, staying rooted to his spot. "Professor, I think we're ready."

Wood marched over to his spot, his wand brandished and his brow furrowed. He certainly looked capable, and judging by his Hogwarts Quidditch career; Wood's athleticism was not to be underestimated. If he's as intelligent as he is fit, then this might actually be a challenge. I think I'll just rush him, catch him off-guard and floor him with one strike. I'm allowed physical contact again, so I doubt I'll get disqualified.

"Are you both ready?" Remus asked them.

"Ready, Professor," Wood said, giving Ron a sportsmanlike bow. That was… polite… Fine, I won't hit him too hard.

Ron quickly did a short bow as well, taking on his Duelling Stance immediately after. Stay low, move fast, and don't hesitate. If you make a mistake, move on instead of fixating on it. Repeating Madam Roberts' lessons in his mind; Ron prepared for his final match of the day. Just win this, then you can go Duel the P-12 and get some actual exercise.

"Begin!" Remus ordered, hopping back. Cutis Terra!

"Expelliarm-" Wood started, but Ron had already charged him with terrifying speed.

His augmented muscles sent him tearing through the wind, chunks of sand flying up with each thunderous step. At this small a distance, Wood had never stood a chance due to Ron's very specific set of skills. Get in close, and end the fight in one clean hit! Within what felt like a heartbeat, Ron was upon Wood, who managed a pathetic Non-Verbal shield that Ron ran right through.

Wood's eyes widened to size of dinner plates as he fumbled back, completely flabbergasted by Ron's bizarre tactics. His horror didn't last long, because just as Ron's extended right arm hit him in the chest; Wood's body was flung backwards, spinning.

The Quidditch Captain landed harshly, his wand flying off in a different direction all together from his limp body. That was just… Really? What was that shield? Who designed this Tournament? Most of the older students made it into Rank A and B simply due to age, even if their Duelling talent is practically non-existent. Just because someone is older doesn't mean that they're stronger, or, more knowledgeable… I know the Headmaster understand this, so why would he design the Tournament this way? Is it to keep things fair? Because that's stupid. Nothing is fair, and they need to understand that if they're to survive the war.

"Match!" Remus finally called it, he too looked rather surprised.

The Slytherins were the first to break into applause and cheers, followed quickly by the rest of the school. Ron, however, didn't wait around to bask in the glory of his victory; he was already looking forward to training with an actual opponent. Maybe I'll get more of a challenge down the line, once all the weak links are removed? I hope so, otherwise, I'll be awfully bored when the Tournaments recommence after the Break.

---

Sunday 14th March, 1994 (The Sanctuary – Evening)

He hadn't bothered to stick around for the other matches, not even Percy and Samantha's. It just didn't seem important to him, to sit there and watch weaker wizards perform subpar Magic in an attempt to disarm the other. Maybe I'm just used to more… danger… being involved? What a weird thing to get used to, eh?

Ron slid further into his seat, relaxing his sore body after yet another long sparring session with the P-12. He could beat it most of the time, now, though using Wandless Magic made even this feat trivial. As dangerous as the P-12 was, it simply lacked the basic human instinct to survive. If it couldn't move out of the way, it simply took the hits, whereas a person would do anything to avoid getting injured. Is that why I lost to Bellatrix Lestrange so quickly? I've become too accustomed to predictable opponents?

The door suddenly creaked open, taking Ron by surprise. Blaise? He's here a bit early, isn't he? Ron looked to his Rolex; it was just past six. It's definitely not Blaise, he usually reads poetry at this time of day, and I doubt he'd skip it just to come to dinner early.

Much to Ron's shock, it was Millicent, of all people, who had come looking for him. What's she doing here? Ron schooled his features on instinct, not planning to look pleased, or, disappointed with her presence.

"Hi…" she greeted awkwardly from the door, not moving an inch. "Um… Are you free? Can we talk?" You want to talk me? Out of the blue? What's changed?

Deciding to put his own problems on hold for a moment; Ron waved Millicent over. What was he hoping for, exactly, though? Reconciliation? An apology? Maybe even a shouting match? He was definitely not happy with her, even now, but he was weak…

He was too weak to turn her away, not when she looked so vulnerable; walking over in tiny steps in order to buy herself more time. Ron watched her silently, trying his best to figure out what she wanted, but in the end; he simply had no idea with her anymore. I tried predicting what she would do before, and look how that turned out. I'll help her if that's what she needs, but I'm not trusting her completely. I'm never trusting anyone ever again. I can only rely on myself, because I am alone in this fight, and always will be.

"What's happened?" Ron asked as Millicent sat down.

"Um… Ron…" Millicent shifted in her seat. "I… Can I just start by saying sorry?" Huh? What's going on here? Is… Is she really here to apologize?

"Sorry?" Ron cocked an eyebrow. "For what?"

"You know what…" Millicent looked down at her feet. Do I? You've caused me a lot of headaches lately, so I'm not so sure.

"You can't even say it, can you?" Ron asked, feeling an ounce of anger. I don't care that they're your parents, you chose fucking slavers over me. They nearly destroyed everything I've worked so hard to achieve!

"I… I'm sorry…" Millicent apologized, still not looking up. "I know you weren't trying to hurt me, not really… And I… I should've thought about what I was doing…"

Ron felt slightly soothed by her words, but not enough to be moved. No more mistakes. Accept her apology, but keep your eyes on her from now on.

"No one got hurt, that's what matters," Ron looked towards the fire.

"You got hurt…" Millicent all but whispered. "Because of me…"

"No one important got hurt," Ron corrected himself.

"Ron…"

"Is there anything else?" Ron asked. "I'm busy."

Millicent looked around the empty room, spotting a shattered P-12 in the corner of the sandpit. Neither of them said anything for what felt like hours, until very suddenly; Millicent pulled out a letter from her robes.

"Um… Ron…" Millicent started awkwardly, her voice filled with uncertainty. "I… I'm in trouble, and I really need…" she trailed off. Trouble?

Ron sat up, eyeing the letter with renewed interest.

"Ron, can we be friends again?" Millicent asked, her eyes welling up as her fingers tightened around the letter; her hands almost shaking. "I… I'm really, really sorry…"

Ron immediately felt a flash of hot-red rage; someone was going to die very painfully for upsetting her to such a degree. I bet it was those two slavers, are they pressuring her to do something she's not comfortable with?!

"I'm here," Ron leaned forward, his focus entirely on Millicent now. "Talk to me, tell me what's happened, Millie."

---

AUTHOR'S NOTES: And there it is! Sorry again for the wait, and I know the ending is a bit abrupt, but I'm looking at two 12 hour shifts and lot of classwork to boot this week alone. If this don't get published now, it aint coming for a while =P

Now, I'm hella busy these days, so the next chapter will be out in around 3-4 weeks. This'll be the schedule until I can gain some balance in my life.

See you all soon (And remember, this story is not getting abandoned)!