1. Thanks a lot to romioneB for helping beta this chapter. I am sure it will be far better with that valuable advice. Also thanks to Ana-DaughterofHades who helped me years ago on the initial version of this.
2. Any error here is mine and not from my reviewer.
3. I know I'm slow. I have too many stories to update and little time. Though I can promise that none of them are in hiatus, I might be like George RR Martin in updates here. HBW update is coming, and I have chap 2 of GKB ready around here, somewhere. I am working in chap3 for Hermione is an Owl and chap 5 for the PJO story. I also have... wait for it... another new story coming up... ha! I have a schedule in my profile, I don't follow it as well as I would like but I do think of it as a rough blueprint.
4. I also have a twitter account that I'm going to use for similar purposes. Account is TimeTravelFFics, and a poll around there. The story with more upvotes might get a new chap sooner.
"Don't hassle yourself, Harry. You'll do great."
Ron barely registered Seamus' words as he took a bite out of his sandwich. He had more than a few worries of his own, so he didn't bother to follow the boys' conversation.
"You really think so?" Harry asked Seamus, but it was Dean who answered.
"Positive. I may not know much about brooms, or Quidditch, but I saw you flying. You were unbelievable! I wished it had been me up there," the boy reassured him, taking a potato from his plate and moving it around excitedly as if it were a Quidditch player. "With you on the team, we'll crush Slytherin for sure!"
"But you only saw Malfoy! The players on the team are older, and they're sure to be better than him, aren't they?" Harry hurried in a doubtful tone, looking around the table. He waited for Ron to say something, but the only answer he got from him was a lazy shrug.
In all honesty, Ron had lost track of the conversation sometime after they switched from the troll fight to Quidditch. He knew Harry would do brilliantly at the game, and it wasn't the first lunch discussion they had had about it. Being a week away from the first game of the season though, meant that the Quidditch chat was only going to increase.
It wasn't that Ron wasn't passionate about Quidditch anymore, far from it. However, he had more pressing matters to solve. Namely, a certain girl with unmanageable hair, or the fact that she wasn't friends with them yet, even though she totally should be.
"It'll be fine. More than fine," Seamus said once it became obvious that Harry wasn't going to get any response from Ron, "I've played with older cousins and family friends. And, from what I saw, I reckon you can fly miles around any of them."
Once Ron noticed Harry turning to Seamus to ask him something else, he lost track of the conversation again. He went over the events from the previous night, and thought about how he had blown things up in such an awful way. More importantly, he wondered how to put things back the way it was supposed to be, or if that was even possible anymore.
Taking another bite out of his sandwich, Ron's attention shifted for the upteenth time to a few seats away. Hermione was having a quiet lunch, and aside from some casual glances around, she seemed to be minding her own business. Ron was so focused on watching her lonely figure, that he had a better chance of remembering what the girl was eating than the food he was currently putting in his own mouth.
"What do you think?" Harry asked Ron, directly this time.
"Err— Wha—Whaff— ?" Ron asked, almost jumping in his seat as he gulped down the chunk of sandwich he was chewing. He took a large sip of juice and turned to his friend. "What are you lot going on about?"
"The game. I was wondering if I'll be good enough. The Slytherins are older, and have been playing together for years, after all. Weren't you listening?"
"Yeah, sort of. Thought you had already stopped rambling about that nonsense."
"Where were you?"
"Nowhere really, just got lost thinking about today's class with Snape. He acts like a bloody tosser, doesn't he?"
Dean chuckled as Seamus nodded, "You got that right."
On the other hand, Harry had narrowed his eyes at Ron, and more than a hint of confusion was evident in his expression, "Are you alright? You seem a bit off."
"Never been better."
He wasn't though. Everything was wrong. Dean and Seamus were good lads, but Ron knew this was the wrong place to be at. He and Harry should be sitting next to Hermione, befriending her. Instead, all they had done earlier was thank her in a crowded common room for telling McGonagall about the troll before going their separate ways. The whole exchange had been awkward, and Harry had shown no desire to continue the conversation with the girl, even at Ron's insistence. It had been a bloody disaster.
All throughout Snape's class, Ron had thrown occasional glances at Hermione and wondered what he was supposed to do. Admittedly, a part of him thought the best would be to just sod it with all of this keeping-the-time-unchanged rubbish and start doing whatever felt best. Tiptoeing around everything that was supposed to happen was just too bleeding difficult, and he had made too many mistakes as it was. Besides, time may have been irredeemably changed already, and he may have no way to fix it.
He couldn't tell Harry and Hermione the truth yet, but doing things his way would still be way easier than the alternative. He could have Bill, and his parents for instance. Even if they might be shocked at first to learn that he wasn't really a kid, he was still Ron, and he knew they would be there for him regardless. Dumbledore had his own way of doing things, but Ron wouldn't refuse his help either.
It would be nice to have someone else making the calls. At least that way I wouldn't be the only one to blame if the timeline went to shit.
The idea sounded brilliant for sure, but even so, another side of Ron doubted. Truthfully, he didn't think he was ready to make that decision yet. Accepting that the timeline couldn't be salvaged felt like giving up. Like he was letting his future life go. His family. His wife.
Ron spared another quick glimpse in Hermione's direction, and he noticed she was almost done with her lunch.
"Look mate, I've said it a thousand times already," he told Harry. "You're going to do brilliantly. Gryffindor is going to win. And then, after the game, we'll all be celebrating that you knocked the stupid grins off of the Slytherins faces."
"Cheers to that!" said one of the twins as Ron felt a hand on his shoulder. He hadn't seen them coming.
The other twin, who Ron doubtfully guessed was Fred, put a hand on Harry's shoulder, "Relax Harry. It's just a game and not a matter of life and death, contrary to what Wood would make you believe." He then glanced at Ron from the corner of his eye, and grinned. "But Ronnie's right, even if he's a bit... distracted. You're killing it in the practices, and I can't wait to sweep the floor with the Slytherins myself."
The twins went on for a while about the upcoming game, a conversation that Dean and Seamus both joined enthusiastically. Dean told them of his drawing skills, and offered to make some banners, which the twins promised to bewitch to make the letters move and sparkle once they were done. Ron stayed mostly silent, though he still tried to follow the conversation. The twins had already noticed that he had been absent-minded, and he didn't want them to say anything more about it. Maybe Ron was uncommonly lucky this time, and his brothers hadn't noticed the reason for his distraction.
It didn't take long before Hermione finished her meal and headed towards the door. It was Ron's chance, and there was no way in hell that he was going to wait any longer.
"I've got to go. See you later, Harry?" he asked.
"Where are you going?"
"To the library. Thought about starting that Potions' essay while you were at practice."
"That's not due until next week! What's the hurry?" Dean asked.
"I have the time now, better get it over with while I can," Ron answered, though he kept glancing at the other side of the Hall, where he couldn't see Hermione anymore.
Ron really needed to go. Even when this was far from the only chance he had to talk to Hermione, he didn't want to wait a second longer. He had waited long enough as it was. Ever since he had arrived in the past, he hadn't done anything but wait and be patient, and he was now bloody tired of doing that..
"I'm telling you, Percy is getting to him. He might be beyond rescuing now," said one of his brothers, apparently Fred. Ron gladly ignored him as he stood up.
Harry turned to look at Ron's plate. "Aren't you going to finish that? We've still got like ten minutes until practice."
Fred nodded.
"Fifteen if you want to cause Wood to have a nervous breakdown," added George.
"Ehm… I—" Ron said, turning to the Great Hall's doors. "I'm not hungry anymore."
"Well that's a first," said Fred.
The twins narrowed their eyes at Ron. After spotting Hermione's spot empty on the other side of the table, they gave him curious grins. The gits had noticed, that much was apparent. Ron, however, didn't care a gnome's fart about it now. After promising Harry to help him with Snape's essay later, he darted out of the Great Hall.
As he ran after Hermione, Ron's thoughts raced through his head faster than a striding centaur. He still had no idea what he was going to do about the whole time travelling dilemma, but at least he didn't need to figure it out just yet. Even if he decided to change things, he wasn't going to tell Hermione the truth now, she was still too young. On the other hand, even if he decided to keep trying to restore the timeline, he still needed to befriend her. The three of them should've been friends by now.
After giving a quick check to the staircases that led to the Gryffindor tower and making sure Hermione hadn't gone there, Ron turned to the library. He found Hermione on his way there, in the last corridor just before reaching her destination.
"Hermione!" he called before stopping a couple of feet away from her to catch his breath.
The girl turned, and was quickly taken aback when she saw Ron standing in front of her. Once she got over her initial surprise, her brow furrowed, so subtly that would have been almost imperceptible to anyone else. The corner of her mouth quirked as well, ever so slightly. She was curious.
"Ron?"
It had taken him a long time before falling asleep the night before. He had stared at the ceiling of his four-poster bed, going over several times what he needed to tell Hermione in order to win her friendship. The bleeding good that did for him, because once Ron found himself this close to Hermione, and with her looking questioningly at him, he forgot each one of the blasted phrases he had rehearsed. It was simply impossible not to lose himself in memories whenever the girl made a gesture that made her look so much like her older self.
It's been ages since I last saw her. It sure as hell feels like it.
Ron ached for the older Hermione. His Hermione. Having no one to share his secret and burden with didn't precisely help. Would it be that bad to drop this whole act now? To tell this girl the truth? Hermione was young, sure, but it wouldn't take her long to understand this time-travelling nonsense. And Ron was just so bloody tired of not knowing when his next mistake would be. Of feeling like he was just making everything worse. He could use someone who could help him not botch it up any further.
The eleven-year-old Hermione was completely oblivious to Ron's inner turmoil though, and arched an eyebrow when he didn't say anything. "Is there something wrong?"
Ron swallowed his wistful thoughts and focused on the puzzled girl in front of him. "Look, I just— How do I—" he mumbled, then let out a sigh, "I just wanted to thank you again. You know, for getting help last night and… Well, mostly that. McGonagall barely got there in time."
"Oh, it's alright. It would've been rather irresponsible from my side not to do so. I know that Harry went after you, but a teacher or a prefect needed to know. They're far more capable of dealing with such a situation."
"You did save our lives. So thanks anyways," he said, with a casual smile.
"It was the right thing to do."
Ron shifted on his feet uncomfortably. He had entertained the idea of changing the timeline as best as he could more than once, but her words caught him off guard.
The right thing to do. And what's the right thing to do with all this bloody time travelling nonsense?!
In the waning light of the afternoon, the corridor that led to the library had a nostalgic feel to it. The large windows to Ron's right let those bleary hues fall directly over the floor and Hermione, almost as a subtle touch. In that lightning, the lines on Hermione's face that were going to accentuate into her older self were easy to tell apart from those which would fade in the upcoming years. The girl's hair was the same erratic mess it had always been, but, with the sunset glow, some strands glistened amber and made it possible to distinguish the exact shape of many unruly curls. A few flying particles were visible in the sun beams as well, and Ron could almost swear that they were the only thing moving there.
Ron had been with Hermione like this hundreds of times at Hogwarts, but he never appreciated it as he should have back then. The Hermione that was looking at him now was the eleven-year-old one, but, in some weird sense, she was also the fourth year one who asked him to sort things out with Harry... the fifth year one who wanted him to do his prefect rounds properly... and all those other Hermiones at once. She had that look that his future wife would give him over and over again throughout the years whenever she expected him to choose an answer. And to choose wisely at that.
Do the right thing, she seemed to be telling him. It's hard, but I need you to do the right thing now. For me.
Ron couldn't fool himself. He knew what the right thing was. He had to return to his time. He couldn't give up. Not when there was still an ounce of hope. He would fight to the ruddy end if he had to. There might come a time when he would have to drop it all and start changing things, but that time hadn't come. Not yet.
"Are you certain you feel alright?" the young girl asked.
"Positive," he said, aiming for a cheerful face that wouldn't give away his struggles, "I was just thinking— thinking of that troll… We owe you, big time. I didn't fancy being turned into a ginger tapestry by force of that beastly club."
Hermione frowned. "You shouldn't be so light about it, it was incredibly dangerous. Overcoming a mountain troll requires spells that we won't even learn until at least third or fourth year!"
"It wasn't like I did it on purpose, you know," Ron told her, making an effort to hold her gaze. "In any manner, it's good you told McGonagall. I may be scoring good marks in her class, but I reckon that in my position, you would have a better chance than I do."
Ron meant more than she would realize with that last phrase.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.
"That you are brighter than I am, and surely know more spells than I do. I don't know what I'm doing half of the time."
Half of the time? He wished!
In a way, he was talking to her older self. If there was a bigger entity out there that had caused this and was listening to him with amusement, Ron wanted to make it clear that he wasn't the right person for this task. He never was.
The girl before him still looked taken aback and doubtful of how to take the compliment. "I'm not so sure of that, but thank you," she said shyly.
Ron took advantage of the silence that followed. "I'm sorry, by the way. For what I said in charms. You must think I'm a nasty piece of work, but I'm truly not. I didn't mean any of it. I was just upset because— well, my… rat, it's been looking sick and, you see, I was in a bad mood. I honestly think you're brilliant."
The rat. A painful reminder of what he was doing so he could keep the time unchanged. The guilt was almost bad enough to make him reconsider his decision. However, thinking about his future kept him determined.
I'm sorry, Sirius. I wish there was another way.
Ron moved his attention back to Hermione. His attempt at befriending her was completely different than last time, as now he had to be more upfront, but there was just no way around it with how things were. The eleven year old Ron had mostly shrugged a quick apology after the troll incident, but he couldn't leave anything to chance.
"It's okay. I understand," Hermione said, and she blushed, lowering her eyes a bit. Most likely in embarrassment.
The girl hugged her books more tightly and turned her head over her shoulder in the library's direction. Ron wasn't going to let her go now, not alone at least. "Friends?"
After the initial surprise, Hermione gave him an eager nod.
o0o0o
Those days were extremely odd for Ron. He spent a lot of his time with Harry, especially helping him with his homework since Quidditch practices were taking a lot from him. On the other hand, whenever Harry was at the pitch, Ron was at the library. Sometimes he was looking for an answer to that time-mirror in the books, but he often neglected that in order to spend time with Hermione instead.
Their friendship was just starting, and Ron was treating it with the utmost care. They did their homework together, and he asked her questions about her muggle life, even when he already knew all of the answers. They disagreed from time to time of course, but Ron tried to keep the bickering to a bare minimum. The first year Hermione was more fond of rules than her older self, and Ron didn't want to blow things up by saying the wrong thing. Hermione still needed to loosen up a bit and be willing to have more fun, but to convince her of that, Ron needed more time than the few hours a week that the Quidditch practices gave him.
The next step was more difficult, as getting Hermione and Harry to be friends was proving to be quite a challenge. Harry was well aware of Ron's new friendship with the girl, but he didn't seem keen on spending time with her himself. From her end, Hermione was cordial to Harry when they crossed paths, but Ron knew she still considered him to be rude and a rule-breaker. The rare occasions when Ron managed to get the three of them together, Harry talked only to him, and mostly about Quidditch. That usually made Hermione snort and take her book somewhere else, a place where she could read in peace and quiet.
It wasn't the most promising of starts, but Ron wasn't about to give up. Not now when he'd just got Hermione back.
The Philosopher's Stone affair was a bit more under control. Harry hadn't seen Snape limping this time, but he was eager to blame something on the potions master and accepted Ron's theories wholeheartedly. Hermione wasn't up to speed on the whole thing, but Ron wanted to wait for the right time before he started mentioning Fluffy and the like.
As the Quidditch game approached, Ron became as anxious as Harry, but not for the same reasons. Hermione needed to be there and somehow distract Quirrell by casting blue flames on Snape's robes, and doing that without making either Quirrell or Hermione suspicious was going to be quite a daunting task. Ron missed his life. At his old job he only needed to worry about paperwork and catching the bad guys — who most of the time happened to be quite easy to spot. He was in no way used to elaborate plans where so many things could go wrong. Not anymore. Besides, even back then, Hermione had usually been the one in charge of making the wild plans.
Well, I did manage to get Harry on the team, didn't I? Ron tried to reassure himself.
Yes, that part at least had gone alright, even if so many other things hadn't. He could use a bit of that early luck right about now. Ron had to stay focused. If he wanted to have his old life back, he needed to set things right first. No matter how hard it was for him to be planning things completely alone now, he had to do it. He had run out of room for mistakes.
Sooner rather than later, the day of the match arrived. At eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be in the stands, staring at the place where the Quidditch players were supposed to come out, as they cheered and laughed. Ron pretended to be one of them, but the truth was that he couldn't stop moving his eyes in all directions until he spotted Quirrell. He was sitting a bit farther from Snape this time, but Ron hoped the blue fire could distract that whole section of the stands either way.
Ron was looking straight at Quirrell, studying his every move, when something occurred to him. What if the man didn't try to jinx Harry's broom this time because of the things that Ron had already changed? Could he still make Harry and Hermione suspect Snape? What would happen if they didn't?
Just then, Ron was brought out of his thoughts as the roar of the crowd let him know that the players were out and ready to start the match. Ron noticed Harry turning to them with a weird smile. Hermione was at Ron's side with a small banner supporting Gryffindor, and Ron had already explained the basics of Quidditch to her. He had managed to convince her to work together with him on the red and gold banner last minute. It was smaller than Dean's, but good enough. It even had the spell for changing its colours that he had seen Hermione use for several matches in his future.
"...And Marcus Flint lunges for the Quaffle at once, though he is soundly beaten to it by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor — a much more talented Chaser it would seem to me, and I need not say attractive as well —"
"JORDAN!"
"Sorry, Professor."
Ron smiled at the distant argument between Lee Jordan and Professor McGonagall. He didn't have to worry about anything until Harry's broom started to move around. Ron convinced himself that it would, surely he hadn't done anything big enough to stop Quirrell from attempting on Harry's life. Hopefully, he would go for the same trick this time around.
Soon, he found himself even enjoying the game. With all of the tension, Ron had rarely enjoyed anything from his new Hogwarts experience as much as he would have liked. As Katie Bell scored in the sky, he saw Hermione smiling as well. He knew she wasn't very fond of Quidditch, but this was the first time she'd ever seen a match, and that was surely worthy of attention.
"Budge up there, move along."
"Hagrid!"
Ron moved closer to Hermione to give Hagrid enough space to join them.
"Bin watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid. He had a large pair of binoculars on him, "It isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"
"Nope," said Ron. "Mostly a chasers' game so far. Hagrid, this is Hermione."
As Hermione introduced herself to the half-giant, the action in the pitch continued. George had changed the direction of a bludger heading to Angelina, and Adrian Pucey barely dodged it. Ron found himself wishing that the ball had hit Pucey right in the face. He didn't like the stupid git Marcus Flint, or any of the other Slytherin players, but ever since the incident at the Ministry he realized that he disliked Pucey even more. The couple of spells he threw at him a couple of months ago didn't change that.
"A steady pass from the hands of Alicia Spinnet, only a reserve last year but wisely promoted by Oliver Wood — back to Johnson and back to Spinnet — Oh no! Slytherin has taken the Quaffle again and that's an unexpected turn — someone has to stop him! No, no, no Bugger! Slytherin scores—"
The resonating voice of Lee Jordan really transported Ron back to the old days, and by then he was shouting advice to Harry that his friend couldn't hear, cheering loudly at every Gryffindor play, and booing at each Slytherin goal. Ron was paying special attention to Oliver Wood since he now saw his Keeper's movements with different eyes.
"Did you see that?! Merlin that was amazing!" he said pulling Hermione by the shoulders as he pointed at Wood, "It really is more difficult than it looks, you'll see it's all in the wrist—"
Hermione nodded and gave him a shy smile, and Ron hurried to move his arm away as soon as he noticed the girl growing aware of it. It was sometimes easy to get carried away by Quidditch.
The match continued, and Ron briefly forgot almost everything about Quirrell.
"—that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and — OUCH! That must have hurt!"
There were more bludgers tossed around, and Dean Thomas soon discovered that red cards didn't exist in Quidditch. Back in his time, Ron had gone to a few Muggle football games with Hermione's father, and he certainly enjoyed them, but he always thought that the card thing slowed down the action a lot.
All around him, the first years were having a proper blast watching the match. Behind Ron, Alice and Sally-Anne were cheering, as Neville followed the ball attentively at their side.
Then it happened.
"Something's wrong with Harry. Look!" Hermione exclaimed, staring up in the air.
Something clicked in Ron's head, and he remembered that he had a mission. He moved his eyes quickly to where Quirrell was and he soon found him, moving his mouth without taking his eyes off of Harry. Nearby, Snape noticed Harry too and started casting the counterspell.
"Does this have something to do with that berk of Flint?" Seamus asked.
"Can' have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Nothin' can interfere with a broomstick but powerful dark magic. No kid could do that' ter a Nimbus Two Thousand."
Hermione was moving her eyes around the pitch, visibly confused. Ron moved closer to her, nudging her in the right direction, "Maybe it's Snape, he might be doing something to Harry! We have to—"
"Professor Snape? What do you mean? He can't be doing anything to Harry, he's a professor!" Hermione replied, scandalized.
Ron was about to mention Snape trying to get the stone, when it hit him. Hermione hadn't seen Snape limping either, and she didn't even know about Fluffy. As his eyes grew wide, he noticed how every mistake he had made was coming back to bite him in the arse. He had waited too long to talk to her about those things. Ron couldn't hesitate now though, he had to still find a way to fix it.
"But you know how he has been with Harry! And I know that he is— Well, I dunno, but I just have a feeling here!"
Hermione frowned as Harry shook in the air some more. Ron was getting nervous, he had to move fast. For the first time since he could remember, he found himself cheering for Snape, hoping that he could keep Harry up there long enough.
In a rush, Ron picked up Hagrid's binoculars, then gave them to Hermione. "Look at him! He's muttering something and he's not taking his ugly eyes off of Harry! That's a clear sign of using either a curse or a countercurse on an object, you must know that! We have to break his concentration!" Ron said desperately as Hermione looked through the binoculars.
"But— that doesn't mean anything. I don't know why he's like that with Harry but from that to harming a student?" said Hermione, doubtful and confused. "Besides you said it yourself, maybe he is casting a counterspell on the broom and trying to protect Harry."
As Harry's broom moved violently again, the color drained from Ron's face and his jaw dropped open. He had done it again, why had he even mentioned the bloody countercurse?
"What's goin' on with yer two?" asked Hagrid as he moved closer to them, "Ye know what's goin' on?"
"Snape is cursing Harry's broom!" said Ron swiftly.
Hermione spoke before the confused Hagrid could have a chance to say a word, "We don't know that, and Professor Quirrell is also moving his mouth and staring at Harry. They can't both be jinxing him," she said, still looking through the binoculars.
Ron froze, paler than ever. Then a lot of gasps echoed as Harry's broomstick made the most abrupt movement yet, leaving him almost hanging from only one arm. The people were already noticing. Parvati brought Lavender's attention to Harry, as Seamus and Dean couldn't stop mumbling something close by. Ron and Hermione were supposed to be on their way to the other stands already.
He grabbed Hermione's hand and dragged her out of there, "Let's go!"
"Ron! Where are we going?"
"We have to do something. We have to stop Snape!" he said as he moved them through the stands.
"You're not sure that this is really a jinx, and besides, even if I believed you, how do you know we have to stop Professor Snape and not Professor Quirrell?"
"I just know it, alright?!" huffed Ron as Hermione frowned at him.
Fortunately when they reached the teachers' stands Harry was still on his broom. The twins were circling under him, Angelina and Katie were heading there as well.
"R—Ron?" Hermione said.
"What's wrong?" Ron turned to her to see that her face had a faint pink tinge to it. As soon as Hermione noticed his eyes, she turned to their hands, which were still clasped together. Ron hadn't let go of her as he dragged her out of their places.
"Err yeah...sorry," he said, releasing her hand.
Another surprised gasp escaped the crowd, and as Ron saw Harry still struggling in the air, his thoughts returned to what they were supposed to be doing.
"You could use those blue flames that you learned," hurried Ron, and when he saw Hermione's eyes growing wider, he continued, "I saw you doing them before."
The girl was doubtful but she let it go and moved in Quirrell's direction. Ron was startled.
"Hermione! Where are you going?" he yelled above the crowd.
Hermione turned and spoke to him in a whisper, "Professor Quirrell is closer, if he loses focus and the broom returns to normal, then we will know it was him. We can go see Professor Snape if it doesn't—"
Ron paled, "NO! It's Snape! You have to—" he tried, but the girl had almost reached Quirrell and had her wand already out.
As soon as Hermione distracted Quirrell and noticed that the spell had ended, she would know that it wasn't Snape. That would be too much of a blasting problem to sort out later, and Ron didn't even want to think what would happen if Quirrell realized that Hermione had caught him.
Dark images of Voldemort revealing himself right in the middle of a Quidditch game came to mind, and Ron shoved them out of his thoughts at once. He was still in a panic though, and running out of options. Once he saw the blue flames coming out of Hermione's wand, he used his last desperate resource. When no one was looking at him, Ron turned his wand to where Snape was sitting a few places up in the stands, then he threw a non-verbal knockback jinx, throwing the potions master out of his bench. Ron had acted just in time, because at that moment Quirrell started moving around with his robes lit up in blue flames. Not far from him, Hermione turned to look at where Snape was sitting.
Eerily enough, the flames made Ron remember his fight back at the Ministry and that pyromancer prick, Garvan Ferrara. Funny how that had turned into nothing but a sour memory while Quirrell had reemerged as a real menace.
In the sky, Harry soon recovered the control of his broom, just as Hermione made her way back to Ron. Between Quirrell and Snape, the girl wouldn't know who was the one casting the curse and who had been trying to help. Ron hoped that was enough, at least for the time being.
Snape stood up, and, when he realized that Harry had gained control of his broom back, he moved his eyes around and started fuming. Fortunately, he wasn't going to be able to spot Ron in the middle of the crowd. It was then that Ron realized that he had done something his younger self had only dreamt of, smack Snape out of his place and make the git topple upside down.
Ron followed a silent Hermione all the way to Hagrid. Before they could reach their stands though, the crowd exploded in a roar.
"Where were you!? You missed it all!" said Seamus.
"Yeah, that last play was brilliant!" added Dean, "One moment he was racing Higgs through the pitch, and then he put his fingers around the snitch and the game was over!" Behind him Neville was nodding.
It was a natural description, as Ron had heard many plays before, still, there was something off with it. At first Ron didn't know what, but soon his eyes sprung open, "Wait! Did you say his fingers? Like h—he caught it? With his hand?" Ron asked, raising his voice.
Dean looked baffled and looked in all directions as the crowd started leaving the pitch, "Em... yeah... wasn't he supposed to?"
Ron was dead frozen. With the whole thing about Snape and Quirrell, he had completely forgotten about that. Harry was supposed to catch his first snitch with his mouth, that was going to be important in the end. He almost let himself fall, overwhelmed by how things had turned out. It seemed like no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't, he wasn't up for the task after all.
o0o0o
Hagrid went for Harry, and led him to his hut. Ron started moving there sadly as well when he noticed Hermione walking the other way with the rest of the students.
"Hey! Where are you going?"
"I'm going back to the castle," she said, not looking happy, "Where else would I go?"
"What?! No! You have to come to Hagrid's."
Hermione narrowed her eyes, but dismissed it, "Harry's not very fond of me. I don't think he would like me there."
"The prat will get used to it. You're my friend, and he'll warm up to you once he gives it a honest try. Just give him some time," Ron said, as he turned back and spotted Harry and Hagrid waving at him to come over.
His words didn't convince Hermione, who rolled her eyes.
"Come on! It'll be great," he tried again. "We'll talk about the game, and about Harry's broom and— it was jinxed! I told you."
Hermione snorted, "I know it was jinxed, I was there too. What I don't know is how you knew about it so quickly, and without even putting on the binoculars," she said, taking Ron by surprise. "You don't need me to talk about it. You already know it was either Professor Snape or Professor Quirrell."
"I do need you, you're my friend and— Wait no! It wasn't Quirrell. I knocked Snape, and then the curse—"
"Well I distracted Professor Quirrell. If you had only waited a little longer we would be sure of who it was, but now it could be either one of them."
"That's not fair! I had to! He was— Harry was up there! He was going to fall!"
Hermione snorted and decided that Ron's excuse was somewhat valid, "All I'm saying is that it could be Professor Quirrell too."
"No ruddy way! It has to be Snape!" Ron was completely overwhelmed. He didn't want to lie to Hermione like that, but he needed her to stay away from Quirrell, away from Voldemort. "Quirrell is a folly."
"That doesn't mean anything. He's certainly not a folly if he can cast a curse like that… or a countercurse for that matter. We should keep an eye on both of them. What if Professor Quirrell is pretending to be like that in his classes? He might be dangerous."
"Rubbish! Snape is trying to kill Harry," said Ron, now desperate. "Look, the day we went out to duel Malfoy we went to the third floor corridor and there—"
"That's forbidden!"
"I know but, listen, we—"
"I don't want to know, and you were very irresponsible going there in the first place. You know we're not allowed in there. You could have lost us a lot of points!"
"But we did and—"
Ron was determined, but a frown formed on Hermione's face, and it was clear that the girl couldn't understand why Ron wouldn't doubt Quirrell even a bit. "Think whatever you like," she said, and snorting, she walked away.
"Wait! Hermione!"
She turned briefly, "Tell Harry that I hope he is okay and, if I were you, I would watch out for Professor Quirrell as well," after that she moved back towards the castle.
He thought about following her, but that would only complicate things with Harry and what Hagrid was supposed to tell them. Ron had messed up big time again. Just when things appeared to be moving forward, this happened. He had been trying to get close to Hermione, but now it seemed like everything he had done since Halloween was for nothing. He knew her, and she wasn't going to drop the whole Quirrell thing. Now what?
As if that wasn't enough, there was also the snitch. Ron didn't know exactly how that would affect the future, but it was surely something that he couldn't fix. Blimey, he didn't know how he could have fixed it, even if he had thought about it beforehand.
He moved his eyes back to Hagrid's hut, knowing what was waiting for him there. He could mess that up too. He could make Hagrid talk more about Fluffy, still, how was he going to let Harry know about Flamel if Hagrid didn't let it slip?
Everything felt wrong, just like that day when he first put his foot in the Ministry's Atrium. Things weren't beyond repair, but he got a feeling in his gut as if something even worse was coming. How was he going to deal with Norbert, the forest, or the stone if he couldn't even put things right up to this point?
At that moment, even with all the knowledge that he had, Ron Weasley felt completely uncertain of how he was going to accomplish the task he had vowed to do. Was this the time to give up on the timeline? He wasn't sure anymore. Even when dozens of people were returning to the castle, crowding the whole space around him, Ron felt lonelier than ever.