The Ordinary Life of a Sidekick

Chapter Thirty-One: Searching

Morning broke, and Hogwarts was no less chaotic.

"Ron! Tommy!"

Hermione stared into the gloom, hoping her shouts would bring out something. But only the hollow darkness echoed back at her.

Hermione nearly jumped when a hand connected with her shoulder, jolting in surprise; she'd been preoccupied staring at the shadows around her, listlessness taking over for a second. She turned around, expecting Harry - but it was Terry Boot stood in front of her, a Ravenclaw with a sharp face and short, tawny-coloured curly hair in their year. Hermione recognised him from Transfiguration.

She let out a slow breath, and faced him. "What is it, Terry?"

"McGonagall asked me to fetch you," he replied quietly. "She said..."

"It's time to go, isn't it?"

"Um, yeah." The boy looked apologetic for a pause, darkness pushing shadows onto his face. "Everyone's going back now, the train's going to be here in half an hour." There was a pause, and Terry coughed uncomfortably. "You weren't out here alone, were you?" he asked, sounding concerned.

"Not for long. Ginny went back for breakfast about half an hour."

"Half an hour? How long have you been out here?"

"Ron's my best friend, I wasn't about to not search for him," said Hermione brusquely, protesting despite the edge of exhaustion to her tone. She shrugged uncomfortably. "All night I've been out."

He blinked at her for a few seconds, before nodding. "Right."

Hermione didn't respond, instead choosing to stare miserably at the ground. They were leaving, all leaving.

Without him.

But after the night's search had proved futile, there was nothing else they could do. Hermione dreaded going back to the Burrow for Christmas and having to talk to a likely distraught Mrs Weasley and tell her they found nothing - yet again. That Ron was lost, again.

She'd spent all night wondering how he disappeared. Hermione didn't know if he would run, an option her mind was beginning to consider more and more as less leads turned up. But if he hadn't run, it meant he had been taken. Harry seemed to think so, but being taken was exponentially worse than running, in Hermione's opinion.

She glanced around to find Terry Boot still watching her, and together they walked down to the Great Hall in silence.

A while later she reconvened with everyone and they all sat down together on the stairs, other students walking around them to get to breakfast. These mornings before the train were always a little hectic even without missing students.

Neville, Luna, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione. The ones left behind who had been part of the surprising many that searched all night. Hermione wondered if it would have been better if one of them had been taken alongside Ron, so then she could help him, or at least know if he was all right or not.

She'd mentioned it to Harry, actually.

"I feel that too," he said bitterly, hands twisting in his lap. He was sat on the step above Hermione, his trainers set a foot or two away from her crossed legs. "We always get into this rubbish in threes, not alone. Or- or we should've done, at least."

There were times before when they had been split up, one of them suffering something the others didn't know. Harry in fourth year in the graveyard, to name an occasion. There was no reason to dredge that up now, but the point was since then they'd very pointedly not done dangerous things alone. Last year when Harry was trying to get to Sirius in the Department of Mysteries he hadn't gone alone. Hermione and Ron had refused to allow that to happen. They stuck together, always - or, they were supposed to, like he'd said.

Hermione swallowed, staring ahead at the stony entrance hall. It was the end of term, but it didn't feel much like a holiday. It felt more like she should be searching for Ron.

"I think someone took him," said Harry suddenly, his tight jaw making his lips turn white from the pressure. "Ron wouldn't just run away like this."

"We don't know what happened," said Neville, jaw tight. The news of two students disappearing had put somewhat of a dampener on his mood, too; on everyone's mood. "Flitwick said he has a lead. Let's leave it, guys."

Harry's expression tightened. "Not a chance. But if he didn't run away, what then? I think he was definitely taken."

"How am I supposed to know?"

"I think you're right, Harry," said Hermione. She shook her head. "He wouldn't just run out on us." Well, the Ron she knew wouldn't. But was he still that boy after everything that had happened? Hermione put it out of her mind, and continued talking. "Question is, who would have taken him?"

"A Slytherin, maybe?" Harry thought hard. "Death Eaters? I mean, they're the obvious ones, but I don't see how they could get into the school."

"What about the boy?" said Ginny. "Tommy. Did he have any enemies?"

Luna spoke then, shaking her head slowly, looking speculative. "No one other than the other first year Slytherins, and no first year would be able to do this... don't you think?"

"I just don't get why it's those two," muttered Ginny in exasperation. "Unless the attack was random, I don't see any connection between the two."

Harry paused. "And how did it happen?" he asked.

Everyone looked down. No one could answer that question, although they'd been speculating all night.

"What if he ran?" asked Ginny. "What if he's waiting at home?"

Hermione pulled a face. "I don't..."

Ginny didn't need her to answer. "You don't think that's likely?" she said, before shrugging. "Well, you're probably right."

No one spoke much for another ten minutes, the stale conversation growing staler until it crumbled entirely. Then, at half past nine, something happened.

Something strange.

"Kellen."

Kellen blinked, suddenly looking alert again as if she hadn't been about to nod off against the wall a few seconds ago. She immediately looked over at Tommy before glancing at Ron.

"What is it?"

"I have an idea. To get us out of here."

All at once, it was like Kellen came alive. A fire unfurled in her eyes and billowed, embers bright, and it moved her off the floor to rouse Tommy.

"Tommy, c'mon, wake up. We have to talk to you."

He moaned in his sleep, cringing away from Kellen.

She nudged him again. "Come on - don't you want to get out of here?"

One eye peeled open, and he uncurled from his position on the floor. "Really?"

Ron was somewhat concerned at the sheen of sweat clear on his forehead and how he winced as he sat up, questions running through his head as to how long it had been since he'd had something to drink or eat (as presumably, Mordecai wouldn't have been very mindful of that), but brushed them away.

"Yeah," he said, forcing a grin. "I have an idea - it's mad, utterly mad, but we might just pull it off. You in?"

"Really?" Tommy mumbled again, eyes going wide. "Well I- yes, I'm in."

Ron nodded. "Good."

He told it to them - or what he had thought of already, at least.

"We can teach Tommy a spell to get us out of here."

Kellen stared it him for a moment, blinking. "What?"

"Tommy doesn't have any cuffs," said Ron quickly, nerves spiking his tone. But they had to go through with this, time was running out and he wasn't sure what else to do. "He can do magic."

Mordecai probably didn't think he could, and so would've overlooked that detail. And maybe all Tommy did know was Wingardium Leviosa, but even that was a good base to start from. It could allow for him to pick up more... dangerous magic, a little bit easier.

"But I-I don't have a wand," Tommy muttered, sounding worried. "I left it back in the dormitory when I was taken."

"You don't need one," said Ron. "It'll be really, really hard, I won't lie, but I think we can do it. Plus... there aren't many other options. Any at all, actually."

Kellen looked at them both. "Ron's right," she began. "You don't need a wand to do magic. It took me longer to learn spells but I still managed it. I can do pro... the shield spell. Someone taught me."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Protego?"

"Yes, that was it," Kellen smiled. "Pro... tego."

Ron brushed the back of his neck. "I can do that one too, without a wand," said Ron. "So maybe I can teach you to do the spell in the time we have. It would be hard, even for me, but we'll have to try."

Tommy's eyes widened. "You'd be much better at this than me."

"Well, unfortunately Tommy," Ron shook his wrists, the shackles clinking (honestly he was just glad they weren't like real handcuffs, that he could move his hands apart), "I can't. So, it's up to you."

"All- all up to me?" Ron nodded, and Tommy swallowed. He was silent for a moment. "So what spell do I have to do?"

"That I..." He stared at their faces, dirty from so long in a murky room and felt the crackle of wards around them, the cold rattling through their bones. "Okay, it's a bit out there, but what if we taught Tommy the portkey spell? Enchanted something so it would go to- I don't know, somewhere safe-"

"What's a portkey?"

Ron blinked at Kellen - at the both of them, who had asked it unison. He pulled a face. "Oh," he said, feeling dread for completely overlooking this part of the plan (bit generous to call it a plan, really). "Do- do neither of you know what that is?"

"No, I uh... I've lived with vampires in the middle of nowhere for months, and then the forest for a bit and I've got no memories from before, either-"

"I'm Muggle-raised, I have no idea what-"

"Oh no," Ron said, tightening his hand on the back of his neck again and dropping his head. "We're done for."

Kellen shot him a reassuring expression. "Things'll be okay. Probably. We'll survive-"

"Not Tommy, though," Ron whispered, gesturing to the boy still crumpled up in Kellen's worn jumper. "He's human. And I want him to stay that way - and alive, too. Mordecai won't be ruining another life if I can help it."

Kellen made a noise of discontentment. "This portkey spell you said... how hard is it?"

"Very."

"Wouldn't we be better off teaching him something he can do?" she pointed out, and Ron shrugged.

"Probably. But I dunno what else would get us out of here quickly... if we stunned Mordecai, he wouldn't be down for long, and we'd be caught again. Apparition's too hard, especially side-along with two other people. I've considered more spells but I can't think of anything better than the portkey. Plus the closer the place is the easier the portkey is to make, so... to Hogwarts shouldn't be too bad."

"What do we do after we get there?" asked Kellen.

"Er... run in, I suppose," said Ron. "They'll help us, and Mordecai can't pass the wards."

"Can I?"

Ron gave Kellen a hesitant look. "Uh... we'll worry about that when we get there."

"But Tommy will definitely be able to get in?"
"Yes. Definitely. And you too, if they let you in, which I'll tell them they can."

Kellen gave him an unsure expression. "And you're sure this will work?"

"It's dodgy," Ron admitted, "but yeah, I reckon we can do it. Are you both... in?"

"Yes," replied Kellen instantly. "I'm sick of this room, I've been in here days already."

"Me too," said Tommy.

Ron was pleased. "Okay. Let's get started, then... Tommy, you want to start trying now? We've only got a few hours at most," he said, looking at the dusky sky outside.

"Sure," the other boy nodded.

"Okay... first order of business... Does anyone have something we can use to make the portkey?"

Hesitantly, Kellen came to join him, twisting the shard of mirror in her hands. "He can have this," she said, turning to face Tommy. Releasing her slightly shaky grip, she handed it to him. "Here you go, Toms. Don't lose it, all right? It's served me well. Got me through half this rubbish."

"It's just a shard of glass," Ron began to laugh, but he saw Kellen's face and sobered at once. "All right - okay."

"Okay," said Tommy. He took in a shaky breath, and Ron knew he was trying his best. He was grateful.

"Okay," Kellen nodded.

"Tommy. I won't lie to you, mate, making a portkey is a tricky, complicated to get right. But we have hours to teach this, and luckily I know how to do it."

That was a lie. Ron was lying.

"If you get it wrong, it's okay. You'll just end up somewhere else. Maybe a few miles of where you want to end up but that's not so bad, is it? And that's only worse case scenario."

Ron licked his dry lips. He was lying. Still lying. Was it the right thing to do, all this lying? It was actually the part he had planned the most, where the plan had stemmed from: how, if things came to the worst he might have to lie to the small boy just to keep him calm.

"Just focus on where you want to end up - come on, you can do it." Tommy had his eyes shut. "Good. Imagine you're outside the gates of Hogwarts. The train'll be going soon, so everyone will be outside. They'll find you, you can go home."

Hopefully they would, if he did go off-course (which he was likely to, and that wasn't even the worst thing that could go wrong). Ron could make no promises, though.

"You can do this. You can go back home to your mum - you have a mum?"

Tommy nodded slowly, breathing thinly. His voice when he spoke was whisper-quiet. "Yeah."

Ron gave him a reassuring smile. "All right then. Just think about ending up by the gates - the sun shining, all that lark. Do you have that place in your mind?"

"Yes."

"Imagine that you're standing there now. Imagine that you've just moved there. Imagine you've gone from here to there, and it was because you touched that glass. It made you teleport, you understand?"

A blue haze, a glow, was beginning to spread from Tommy's palms. Ron blinked in surprise (because in truth, he'd been wondering if this wouldn't fail spectacularly) and Tommy opened one eye partially.

"Am I- am I doing it?"

The glowing slowed in its progression up his arms. Ron cleared his throat quickly.

"Just think about it again. You going from here, to there, sunny Hogwarts because you'd touched that shard. It's enchanted, it'll take you there, you have to believe it. You go so fast it's like... have you ever seen a wizard apparate? No? Well, it's like magic. One minute you're here, the next you're there. Imagine that, imagine a swirling taking you there."

Faster than before, the electric continued its crawl up Tommy's arms, breaching his shoulders and unravelling down his chest, up his neck. To the side of Ron, Kellen came over with a curious expression on her face.

"Is that supposed to happen?" she asked, low so Tommy wouldn't hear even though in his current state - eyes squeezed shut, eyebrows furrowed, magic possessing his limbs - it didn't look like a bomb would bring the kid out of it.

Ron shrugged. "No clue, honestly." He made a pained expression. "Kellen, I have something to tell you... I... I lied, or I led you both on differently. The most I have on this is entire thing that the spell is portus and an explanation from my dad last Christmas when he got a little tipsy. I've only seen it done in person once, by Dumbledore. That was with a wand and it... was nothing like this."

Nothing quite so overpowering to the caster. But, Tommy was just a boy.

Tommy grunted, sweat beginning to spread out across his forehead. The magic had nearly flooded his entire being - it was strange, that someone so small could look so powerful. Right now it looked like Tommy could have killed them all, if Ron was honest. He frowned at the morbid thought.

Kellen looked a little faint. "So you... we... don't really have any idea what we're doing? What- what are we going to do?"

"Try, I guess," Ron said lightly. "But things could go right. We just need Tommy to keep his cool for as long as possible. He could study the spell a thousand times - with wands and books, but if he didn't believe he could do it he wouldn't. He gets nervous, you've seen him... If I told him there's a good chance we die if he fucks this up, he would fuck it up. He'd panic and there is no replacement, no backup plan, to what we're doing here.

"Look, Kellen," and he turned to face her. He hesitated, but... he wanted her to know. She was the only other vampire he knew other than Mordecai. "The time I killed someone, it was because I was nervous and the knife slipped. I cut too much, the blood was too much, it wasn't good." His voice wavered, and Ron back the nerves, not wanting to be a hypocrite. "Mordecai just kept telling me what could go wrong, what would go wrong because I was so useless. We can either wait for Tommy to get over his nerves, if he ever does, or we can just not tell him the risks."

Kellen actually nodded. Ron was surprised - he had been waiting for her to tell him it was a terrible thing to do. "Sounds like a solid plan," said Kellen. "With the whole Tommy thing... he's strong and he can do this, but I think he'd have trouble believing it if he knew how badly we would all pay if he couldn't." Kellen frowned. "What could go wrong with the spell?"

Ron swallowed. Like splinching, but possibly worse. "I won't tell you. But there are more risks than just the spell backfiring. If he can't believe he can do this, we could all... die in here. But you have to consider the alternative here... I think if we go with Mordecai now we won't resurface for a long, long time. If... ever." Ron laughed, but it was a hollow noise. "He'll be taking us to the Death Eaters, you know. And people don't come back from that."

A somber silence fell between the two, and they turned back to the small boy sharply as Tommy slowly opened his eyes, this time the blue sticking around. It reflected into his warm-coloured irises, eyelids wide open.

"What do I do now?" he called out worriedly. "It feels like I'm gonna- I'm gonna-"

Tommy fell backwards, making an odd choking noise and he wretched a few times, nothing coming up but dry air. The blue energy wavered and then collapsed, and Tommy was left in pain and weak-looking.

Kellen swallowed. "What was that?" she asked. "Tommy, are you okay?"

"Does he look it?" said Ron, looking concernedly in Tommy's direction, who had gone an odd colour, pale brown skin gone pasty and eyes squeezed shut again. He was gasping for air, shivering almost violently.

They both went over, sitting beside him unsure what else to do. Ron eventually reached out a hand and, after Tommy didn't flinch, he gave him a reassuring touch on the shoulder, allowing the smaller boy to lean on his arm somewhat while he gained his strength back.

"Sorry, mate," said Ron. "I didn't think that would happen. Probably an effect of magic overuse, or something. You were building up too much power and it didn't have anywhere to go. Probably the wards that stopped you just releasing it normally."

At careers day last year he'd been handed a healer's pamphlet, and read it while hiding from Umbridge last year. He learned a gnarly amount of information about the effects of magic on the human body, and he and Hermione had talked about it a stupid amount over dinner while Harry was sulking about his own conversation with Umbridge and McGonagall. So yeah, he knew what he was talking about. Mostly.

If you built up magic that had nowhere to go, you might puke. Usually it came out in a fit of accidental magic, but wizards had been stretched to the edge, destroying themselves with powerful enchantments when that physically wasn't possible. It was practically a torture method.

Thank Merlin the portkey charm wasn't too bad.

"But we already knew they blocked spells, didn't we?" Ron rubbed his chin, fingers scraping over skin thoughtfully. "So, Tommy, the next time you do this-"

"What? I have to do it again?"

Ron looked solemn. "Yes. That was more or less the portkey spell. Just next time, you say portus right before you feel like you're going to hurl, and when the wards waver."

That part he knew. The rest, was guesswork. But luckily Tommy looked fine. Mostly.

Kellen still looked concerned, although Ron had accepted the boy would have to suffer if he wanted to get them out of here (he would have to make it up to him later). "Are you all right though, Tommy? Can you go again?

The young boy nodded vigorously. "Fine. H-hungry, and thirsty, but I- I want to try again."

Ron smiled. "Good. You're pretty brave for a Slytherin, you know. So you know what you're doing now?"

"I... do, actually." Tommy blinked. "I guess I've always been pretty good at learning spells. I pick them up fast." He smiled, the first time since Ron had known him. "I'm rubbish at potions, though."

"Me too. Snape's awful, isn't he? Or do you have Slughorn now?"

Kellen was looking bewildered. "I don't even know who Snape is, or Slugborn."

Ron smiled. "Maybe you can even meet them once this is all over."

"I... I think I'm going to give it another go, now," said Tommy, sitting down again. "I'll stop before I puke."

"If you're sure you're all right, you do that."

Tommy nodded, and Ron couldn't resist adding something else.

"Guess that's not what they mean when they say magic's sick," Ron said, and Kellen pursed her lips. He liked to think it was because she was hiding her laughter. Tommy at least gave a grin. It was short, but he forgave that considering what a hellhole they were in.

As Tommy and Kellen began to speak again, Ron's mind wandered. Was it horribly irresponsible and overly ambitious of him to hinge the entire plan on an eleven-year-old? Probably. But how much better was a sixteen-year-old? And what other choice did they have?

But what other choice did they have? Kellen was clueless, as was Tommy. Ron, won out by default, and the feeling of being the one who knew the most in the room was a little foreign. It was weird, he was the one directing them. Captain. He'd always wanted to do that, but of the Quidditch team, not in here... not that he minded incredibly. As long as they got out of here.

They had to do this; even if Tommy ended up suffering, at least it wouldn't be by Mordecai's hand, because if it was him it would be never-ending and cruel, so cruel, and Ron wouldn't sacrifice anyone to that, let alone this kid. He was too good for it.

"Albus? Where is my son?"

Arthur watched stood beside his wife as she demanded the headmaster's attention, an unimpressed expression on her face, her arms crossed. "Where is he, Albus?" she asked again.

"We don't know, Molly," replied the headmaster calmly, and from experience that tactic never quite worked with Molly.

She scoffed. "Then find out. That's one of my children you lost!"

"Molly-"

"Don't try and calm me down," she hissed back, vehement in her anger. "Find Ron!"

Dumbledore took a step back. His expression had tightened, and Arthur frowned. "We've done everything we can," he said. "I have tried myself, nearly every spell there is-"

Molly scoffed. "Well, it didn't work, did it?"

"There's still hope. It's only been a few hours-"

"Lessons ended at three yesterday, didn't they? And now it's nine in the morning. Eighteen hours. Eighteen of them he hasn't been seen or heard from. And the other boy more, nearly two days it could be now. You need to find Ron, and you need to find the other poor child who went missing. This is your school, Albus - fix it!"

Dumbledore looked to Arthur, then, perhaps hoping he might say something to his wife. Arthur just frowned, and said, "This isn't right, Albus. Where can we speak to the Ministry representatives? They asked about it in the letter we were sent."

Dumbledore's eyebrows furrowed. "They sent you a letter?"

"One to me, too."

Arthur turned, as did the other two, and found short woman with coarse brown hair shorn somewhere around her shoulders staring back. She had plain eyes, some shade of stone blue. She was dressed plainly in Muggle clothing, a dark skirt poking out from underneath her winter coat.

She was nervous-looking, with a permanently frowning that didn't help the anxiety radiating off her in waves.

In one pale hand she held up a sheet of aged parchment, foreign against her Muggle appearance. "It said that on my letter too," she said, and her voice was hoarse. She cleared her throat, and came back stronger. "Edward and Robert Fowler wanted to speak to me and a few others to discuss details about my son."

"You must be Miss Vice," said Dumbledore; Arthur quickly connected the dots, spotting his wife to the side doing the same.

"Tommy's mother," he said, eyebrows drifting upward, and the woman nodded.

She sighed. "Don't suppose he's been found since I set out half an hour ago?"

"No, unfortunately."

Molly's frown had softened slightly since Miss Vice had joined them; Arthur really ought to learn her name.

Molly read his mind. She stuck out a hand, worn sleeve of her cloak lifting slightly. "Molly Weasley," she said kindly, smile spreading in something warm - something that couldn't be said for the weather this morning. Simply terrible, cold spreading to bones until a warming charm was most certainly in order. Arthur was just glad they'd floo'd up, too swift to be too cold.

He hoped the boys had found warmth, too. He'd hate for them to be outside right now.

"The other missing boy's mother," she introduced herself further, sighed the last part, darting a glare up at the headmaster, looking in her opinion far too apathetic for the whole deal. "I'm sure they'll both turn up soon. Magic's funny like that."

Arthur shook her hand next. "Arthur. Ron's dad."

The woman smiled, but it was short. "Evelyn," she said. "You know who I am."

"Will Tommy's father be joining you later?" Molly inquired as Arthur released Evelyn's grip.

The woman shook her head. "No."

After a brief awkward pause, Molly nodded. "All right," she began. "The Fowlers?"

"I should think so."

"Albus?"

It took a few moments for the headmaster to glance at them, eyes lost in thought. The blue mist cleared, and for the first time he saw the sharpness beneath. Perhaps he wasn't so calm about the ordeal as Arthur had first perceieved. "Hm?"

Molly raised an eyebrow. "The Fowlers?"

"Over by the main entrance to the corridors."

Molly looked and saw two men, nearly identical whispering rather vehemently to each other by a breach in the room's walls. An archway. She began to walk over, Evelyn and Arthur striking up a conversation behind.

"So, what do you do?"

"Oh, nothing special. Office stuff, you know. Finance department for a stationery company."

"Stationery... so quills? Ink? You trade in that sort of area?" Arthur nodded at her, not seeing the bemused expression. "How fascinating, I never-"

"Not quite," said Evelyn. "Pens. Pencils. Rubbers. Not very interesting stuff; I think quills might be better, but that's quite outdated for us by now."

Arthur exclaimed in surprise. "Oh! You're a Muggle, aren't you?"

The woman paused. "Yes. I am."

"Hm. Yes. So, how are the fellytones coming along? I hear there are plans to make them without ekeltricity entirely. No wilds. Wildless, if you will."

"...What?"

"Come along, Arthur!" Molly paused, waiting for them to catch up. They reached Edward and Robert, who turned as soon as they approached.

The one on the left pressed both hands behind his back, and had a look as though he'd been expecting them. The other looked more surprised, eyebrows closer to his hairline.

"Oh," said the shocked one, in a predictably shocked voice. "You must be the parents." He flicked a glance at the top of Arthur and Molly's heads, at the ginger hair that lay there. "Not hard to guess whose."

"Don't make assumptions," the other muttered. "I'm Robert Fowler," he said, shaking their hands. "Whose son is whose, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Ron is ours," said the Weasleys.

"Tommy mine," said Evelyn.

"Told you," said the other brother; Edward, Arthur placed.

Robert frowned. "Still, it's not polite."

Edward waved a hand in his direction. "It worked, didn't it? But, let's get on to direr matters. Your children. We've already gotten information from teachers like when they were last seen, but we need to know something that in the case of magical disappearances, especially in children, if your family had any kind of enemy... even just a feud with someone. Another family, another group..." Edward raised an eyebrow, and Arthur felt like he was being scrutinised under a microscope.

After a brief silence, Edward was more blunt.

"Death Eaters, perhaps? I've heard about the workplace you Weasleys are that sort... you haven't gone and gotten involved in something that would go against that? We need to know, if it's Death Eaters that changes things. Just tell us, we don't have all day."

"I- what-" Molly looked like her air had been taken away, and Robert pulled an apologetic face. Arthur was just glad they were far from everyone else, in a corner of the entrance hall far from the few students milling around the space.

"Forgive my brother and his oafish use of words," he said somberly. His expression went tight, sympathy clearing quickly from his face, like its use had run its welcome. "But we do need complete honesty in order to find your children."

The Weasleys were silent, and Evelyn was looking more and more confused.

"What groups are you talking about?" she asked, tone swift.

Edward gave her a piercing stare. "I assume you're from a Muggle background?" she nodded. "Well, that in itself could be a reason to attack your son. But I hoped things weren't that bad yet."

Her eyes went wide. "I- he- the bias isn't that bad, is it?"

"Dark wizards will stop at nothing to 'cleanse the bloodlines'," Robert informed her. "They will go that far. They're deranged."

Evelyn swallowed. "The Wizengamot aren't that ruthless they would kidnap a boy, would they?"

Edward looked confused. "No, they wouldn't, I don't think. Too public, and not all are blood purists."

She looked a little dazed. "Oh. Oh, okay, good."

"Why would you think the Wizengamot?" asked Edward. "Death Eaters are the more likely suspect-"

"Oh, give her a break," interjected Molly. "You're probably a bit... new, to the Wizarding World. Probably mixed them up, and anyway, they're not too different, are they?" She sighed. "Not anymore."

"Yes, yes, I must have," said Evelyn, nodding hurriedly. "But the Death Eaters? You think they could have taken Tommy?"

"Like we said, dark wizards will stop at nothing. They might have taken your son in protest at Muggleborns being allowed to join our world."

Evelyn had a serious expression on her face. "Right. But I thought... things were supposed to be getting better."

Robert pressed his lips together. "They were. And then, well..." he paused. "It's all starting back up again. War."

"Really?"

Molly and Arthur were looking at the two men oddly. "Yes, really?"

Robert and Edward looked unbothered. "We believe so. It's obvious, isn't it?"

"All right." Edward nodded at the Weasleys. "Can I talk to you privately? Robert will talk to Evelyn."

"Oh- okay- we-" The Weasleys hurried away as Edward walked swiftly in front of them, to a different corner. Evelyn supposed these things couldn't be dealt with with other people around. Now, it was just down to Evelyn and Robert.

Robert looked back at her. "Is Tommy's father still alive?"

She struggled to contain her sigh. This bit would come up eventually, she knew; it had to, really, but it didn't make it any more pleasant. "Yes."

"And I gather he isn't part of the picture?"

"No." Evelyn replied. "And yes, he knows about Tommy. He's quite... he's in a position to have enemies quite bothered about soiled bloodlines. His father wasn't a Muggle. He was a wizard too, although I quite overlooked Tommy becoming one too."

Robert nodded. "That's sensible. Do you mind if we have the name of his father? It's just if he has enemies, it's possible they went after his son."

Evelyn sighed again. "I suppose that's fair." She reached into her coat pocket, pulled out a slip of paper and pen, and wrote something down in looped handwriting. In the meantime, the Weasleys rejoined the conversation, looking a great deal tenser than before. She handed it over. "There."

Robert nodded. "Thank you." The folded note disappeared into his own coat.

The two men looked at the families. "I think that'll be all for now," they said, and left. Evelyn turned to the Weasleys, who looked withdrawn.

"What did they speak to you about?"

"I..."

Death Eaters. Edward had been rude, telling them how he knew what organisation they were in with a smug smirk on his face, and Arthur couldn't do anything. The man had leverage against him. He had to stand there and take it while Edward told him about how his own son could be in danger because of everything he and his wife had done.

Arthur gave Evelyn a harried smile. From the look of things Robert hadn't been too kind to her, either. "It was nothing," he said. "More questions about Ron."

"What did you make of them?" Molly asked. "I wasn't a fan."

"I think they're odd," answered Arthur, "but that might mean they'll find our boys faster."

He hoped he was right. Over in the corner, Robert and Edward had already began whispering animatedly again to each other, but about what he couldn't know.

"Tommy, you all right?"

The boy wobbled to his knees again, falling back, again helpless to the near demented rising and falling of his chest that was as constant as the sun clawing its way through the sky. Time had passed onward and onward, nearly running out entirely, night slipping away until Ron couldn't remember a time when the sky was dark. They all hid from the window to be closer to Tommy, exhausted after his last attempt at casting the spell.

"Yeah- yeah, fine. I need another break though."

"That's all right. As long as you can do it when the time comes."

Tommy sat up, pushing a sweat-soaked fringe away from his face. "I really think I can do this, you know."

"I think you can. It's impressive how fast you picked it up, really." And Ron was impressed - this kid had done some magic that most older wizards struggled with. That was why portkeys were banned by the Ministry: there was too much that could go wrong, so only Ministry-sanctioned ones were allowed.

Ron hadn't much clue what would happen if they used a dodgy one. But after practising all night, things had to go right. They had to.

The good thing about this was that Ron was too preoccupied making sure everything would go right he hadn't had time to consider why they were here. He was so confused. So confused. Why had he been taken? Why had Tommy been taken? Why had Kellen?

Well, two of those questions he could answer. Kellen and Tommy were imprisoned because of him, Mordecai had said so himself.

It was all his fault, again. He was fixing it, though, as best he could... but if he couldn't, if he failed, Ron knew this would be another permanent marker on his record he wouldn't be able to let go.

Up at the school, more students were beginning to gather in the Great Hall. Dark circles and pale faces were a common trend among the students, and still nothing had been found. They were giving up now, but they had to. Minerva had ordered it. They had to go home to their families, and just that was a bitter reminder that two children wouldn't.

Minerva could hardly look the Weasleys or Miss Vice in the eye. Even though she felt some of the blame lay with Albus, who had acted far too slowly in her opinion. He was powerful but had barely used any of that power until it was too late. But that wasn't much of a surprise, considering how often he went off to do what he wanted, dragging Potter around.

She had her suspicions about that, but none she could or was going to act on. As long as Potter agreed with it all, it was all right... he was itching to get into battle anyway, these private sessions would only help that, she was sure.

Still she resented Albus for being so complacent. And herself: Minerva could have done more, gone faster, looked for Tommy yesterday rather than trying to busy herself with other things... a missing child came over everything else, and without her taking care of that issue the number had grown. There were more failures to name that year, too: Katie's cursing. Minerva wondered if the increase in incidents had something to do with the worsening environment outside the gates, the increased influence of Voldemort and then wondered what didn't have to do with that.

What was going on?

For Ron the time ticked by, and soon it was nine in the morning. Everyone was in the hall. Tommy had another go at the portkey spell, reigning back the energy before he could puke - thank you, wards - and Kellen suddenly twitched.

"Did you feel that?" she asked, and Ron glanced out the window.

"He's- he's here."

So that's what that swooping sound had been. Ron felt a shock of nerves strum through his veins, and shook out his hands, only making it worse. He ignored the clanging of the chains reminding him of his own imprisonment.

"Okay," he said, the word tasting like metal on his tongue, "Tommy, get ready. Now."

Ron could see him now, footsteps getting closer. He was going slow, languid confidence speaking of how arrogant he was that all would be well in the room. He saw the man approaching a few metres away from the small dirty window, the only light in the room; Mordecai stopped, suddenly, for several seconds; in the background Tommy was charging up the spell again and from the corner of his eye Ron caught the blue flame growing and bit back the urge for him to hurry up - it would only stress him out more.

"He's stopped," Ron hissed to Kellen, stood anxiously beside him and that was when Mordecai moved again, his eyes wide and red, latching onto Ron's and holding him there. The man stood with his arms at his side, entirely at ease but Ron could feel the beginnings of an intrusion upon his mind - it had been so long since the time in the forest the familiar process caught him off guard for a moment. And then his brain caught up and he wrenched his gaze away.

No matter what he said to himself, he had learnt since then. He had learnt you never look a mind-reader in the eyes. Especially when recently... he'd been neglecting his Occlumency. Ron had forgotten, more caught up in other things. He really had to get it back up to scratch, secure his most important memories from thievery.

Still as he turned away, back to Tommy Ron could feel the empty blaze hitting him like the window pane wasn't even there.

They'd formulated this hours ago, building the plan together and things were going fine so far. When Mordecai appeared (because there was no way of knowing when he would turn up; he had given no time, and they had no time to tell) one of them would wait by the window. Ron had volunteered. When Mordecai breached the wards that stretched roughly a few metres from the faded blue walls Tommy would cast the spell, and if all went well, they would have a spare second or so to get their hands on the shard of mirror - the portkey - before it departed - hopefully to the gates outside of Hogwarts.

That was the plan. They were going to get out of here, Ron could feel it.

"Come on, Tommy, you can do this," Kellen murmured, quiet enough not to break his focus because that would doom them all.

This was their only shot. They couldn't get past or around Mordecai, so they had to portkey away from him instead.

Ron was glad instant portkeys were beginner level; if it had been anything longer, they might not have made it.

All night they'd gone over the plan, all morning. And now it was time to enact it. Ron thought it might even go... well. But he didn't want to jinx it.

Tommy's exclamations of pain suddenly grew louder, the sweat that had been almost constantly wiped from his brow for the past few hours springing up again in beads.

The kid had been... brilliant. Ron didn't know if he could've done the same at his age, at a mere eleven years old. He'd be a fucking fantastic wizard one day, Ron knew. The kid was setting up portkeys, at eleven. An emergency one, but a portkey none the less. Still Ron wished he could be the one to make the portkey, to bear the exhaustion rather than Tommy.

Mordecai was still getting closer. Closer and closer and closer until he was five metres away, four metres, three, two, one-

The wards sprung apart for just a moment, the air suddenly clearing and Tommy had timed it fantastically, he done so well-

"PORTUS!" he yelled, and it was like it took everything out of him, the blue energy flying from his hands and turning the shard a brightened blue. In fact it did take everything from him: he collapsed backwards and Kellen had to press his arm to the shard of mirror still glowing, barely holding onto the space it had; Mordecai had passed the threshold of the building and was sprinting towards them; time was going too fast but it was okay, because Ron was touching the portkey too, they were all touching the portkey they were going to leave-

"Ron," said Kellen, voice hollow. Tone empty of everything, like she had lost everything - was about to lose everything.

Ron didn't have time to ask what was wrong. He stared into her eyes, a dark red, and stared. Hard. He reached inward, and found what was wrong; the gesture to her hand being enough as it was.

I don't have a ring, Ron.

He didn't need her to say it. They were apparating right outside the gates, far away from shelter. They were apparating into broad daylight and Kellen was a vampire.

I'll burn.

Kellen would die, if she went.

Mordecai was closing in, Tommy's eyes were still screwed shut the shard was past glowing it was pulsating at this point-

Ron felt the moment the hook appeared, the moment it leered in closer to take them away. That was what a portkey felt like. Ron saw in Kellen's eyes, the forlorn impression that she wasn't ready to die. Her hand wasn't on the portkey, but gone - she couldn't go. He saw it in her eyes, saw her tossing up the possibilities: die here, or go with Mordecai.

Tommy was still holding on, eyes shut tight and unaware of what was going on.

And Ron had to make a decision. There was a decision to be made here, he was sure of it. He had to make a decision, a split-second one. A split-millisecond one now Mordecai was just inches away.

There wasn't time for anything else other than to... let go. That answer was the right one and Ron removed his hand, the skin feeling like it was sticking along the way, like his mind was screaming-

NO! THAT'S MY CHANCE! LET ME GO LET ME GO LET ME GO I CAN'T STAY HERE!

Exactly like Kellen's mind. She couldn't stay either, not after hearing what terrible awful things Mordecai had done and what a terrible awful person he was.

Except she didn't have a choice.

Like they were at a train station: Tommy and Ron had tickets, and Kellen didn't. Tommy had to go home to his mother and once he got on the train, he would be safe. Ron could either wait with Kellen until she could get a ticket again, or he could go with the boy to his own mother.

Ron couldn't leave her. He just couldn't, it wasn't what people did to one another. Even though he wasn't a person, it wasn't a kind of moral he could just abandon. He couldn't leave someone behind.

Ron couldn't stay though, either. He hated Mordecai, everything about him and knew if he stayed he'd be in danger.

But he couldn't leave someone behind, especially someone who didn't deserve it. Kellen was good, he'd seen that from her. She didn't deserve this, but neither did Ron.

The portkey was leaving now. His hand still wasn't on, because he was staying. Because if they both went Kellen would more likely die in whatever twisted game Mordecai was playing, and if they both stayed maybe another chance would come along where they could escape. Or at least, Kellen wouldn't have to be alone.

Ron hoped Tommy wouldn't hate him for it, but he would be safe now.

He could hear nearly every voice in him telling him how stupid this was... but Ron was still going to do it. He could stand being away from his mother a little longer if Kellen could.

Ron watched Tommy disappear in a clap of thunder, a spray of flames and swirl away to where he hoped was Hogwarts with a heavy heart, and a blind noise in his mind covering the buzzing from the blow to his head, the ringing made by Mordecai's heavy hit to the side of his skull.

One thought pushed through his mind as he and Kellen went down, and Mordecai's sream rang through the air.

At least one of them would escape Mordecai's wrath. And he was glad it was Tommy.

At exactly half past nine, something happened.

Hermione turned her head at the yell that suddenly erupted across the grounds, at the odd cracking noise that ensconced the entire castle for a second. Evelyn Vice's eyes widened at the scream that she knew belonged to her son at once. The teachers looked round, the students rushed outside to the courtyard, the Weasleys stared around at everyone else's turned heads and went in with the rest to investigate, merging in with others.

A crowd hurried from the mouth of the school, spilling out into the courtyard, shoving with elbows and hisses of get out of the way spraying the air. Everyone was desperate.

Hermione and Harry reached the origin of the commotion first, having pushed past everyone to see if it was anything to do with their friend; it was, but they weren't to know that at the time.

All they saw was a small boy, short for his age shivering and convulsing violently on the cobbles bordering the beginning of the bridge and spreading into the courtyard, right in the archway. Some blood flowed there too.

His hair was thickly matted with dust and dirt, plastered to his pale skin and every so often he let out chokes and gasps that sometimes bordered on hoarse screams.

Hermione's first thought was why the stained school-standard cloak lying by the side of his legs was stained with blood, why that same red wine colour was dripping onto the cobbles, spiralling along the veins of the stone and where it had come from. Why sparks and cinders crackled along his skin like he'd just come from a roaring fire.

And then she snapped to attention, rushing forward. "Are you all right?" she asked, along with six others.

Tommy sobbed again, and let out another scream.

Okay, got something to say:

This will be the last update for a while. It's not that I can't update or that I've run out of chapters or whatever, it's that I want to finish this before I start posting again. It's difficult with something as big as this to post things not knowing what the full thing will be like and while I've planned, it's not the same.

This isn't to say I won't post... I will, but it won't be the every two weeks that I do now. I'd recommend that even if I do update you not read the chapter and instead wait until I've posted all of it.

I know it's annoying, I really do, I read fanfiction too and have had my fair share of aggravation for things I'm reading suddenly coming to a halt, but I'd rather not post. I have to stop writing/editing to post, which while I love the comments I'd rather get the whole thing typed up.

I also want to go back and edit some of the earlier chapters. I skimmed over them the other day and oog. Some are pretty rough, not to mention long.

This is not the end, my friends. I mean it's really not, I have a hell of a lot of chapters tucked away in my documents and besides, I've already put far too much time into this than sensible so I'm going to go to the end.

Sorry about this, by the way. But I had to do it.

Also, for anyone wondering why Tommy could cast the spell because he didn't actually cast it until Mordecai broke the wards. He just practised charging it up while the wards were still up.

Thanks for reading!

-Tea33 ;)