OK, first off, I apologize for the huuuuge delay in posting this. Postgrads making me work my arse off all quarter, then I suck at writing trials and I had to research legal proceedings in the UK to get some idea on how to work this out. Honestly, I wasn't going to go into detail about the trial, but since a lot of you are expecting it…

Eh, I hope it's worth the wait.

Now to get back to replying to the reviews…

Major, major thanks to my beta, A.C. nelli, for their help! Super work as always! :D


Chapter 11:

The Trial of the Decade


Dear Father and Mother,

I wanted to write to you as soon as I could, hopefully before you hear the news from somebody else: Scabbers is in fact an unregistered Animagus. Worse, he is a Death Eater, the one directly responsible for the deaths of Harry Potter's parents.

And it was Ron who helped everyone figure it out.

A shaky breath escaped Percy's lips as he rested his forehead on his free hand. He knew he had to get this letter sent as soon as possible, but the whirlwind of events from earlier left him so drained he could barely process a line in his head.

Never could he have imagined that his beloved pet rat was an Animagus all long, although, in hindsight, he really should have suspected it. Scabbers, who already appeared fairly old when Percy first found him, had been his pet for ten years. That time alone was far longer than the expected lifespan of a normal rat. But he hadn't thought anything of it, and if it weren't for Ron's accidental discovery…

If there was one thing Percy detested above everything, it was failure.

He had always prided himself in being prepared, in making the right decisions, in doing what he had to do as flawlessly as possible. How else could he have maintained his high-class standing and proven his worth to be a Prefect? And not like Bill, who seemed to be somehow effortlessly good at everything, Percy's achievements were a result of his hard work and his drive to succeed in everything he wanted for himself.

So far, he thought he had everything right, until that fateful Halloween night.

Professor McGonagall might as well have stabbed a sword through his heart when she told them about what happened to Ron. It felt like the world came tumbling down on his shoulders when he saw his dear little brother bruised and bandaged in the Hospital Wing that night.

Then Ron's words right after he woke up had been like a slap to the face.

"You have other stuff you should be worrying about." His eleven-year-old brother had said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You know, bigger and better things."

Did Ron really think that? That he was the last thing Percy was supposed to care about? He had been so shocked into hurtful silence (and the eventual arrival of their Professors) that he hadn't reacted. In hindsight, he may have inadvertently proven his brother right.

"He was…the least favoured son. He was…expendable."

"NO!" Percy flung the quill to the other side of the room, digging his nails into his scalp with a furious, pathetic cry.

Not true! That was definitely not true! What did that traitorous bastard know?!

Years before coming to Hogwarts, Percy—who could already tell at a young age that Ron was given the least attention by their busy parents— had done his best to be there for his youngest brother: helping him learn to read and write, telling him bedtime stories, and playing chess with him. When Ron drifted away for a while, Percy had been troubled at the thought that his baby brother may have forgotten the bond they had created through stupid jokes, secret stashes of sweets, and re-enacting the Tales of Beedle the Bard.

But then Ron had come back to him. How, why, he couldn't even begin to guess, but the summer before this term had been the happiest in Percy's recent memory. Ron had acknowledged him, asked for his help, willingly spent time with him, and even defended him against the twins' relentless teasing. While Percy had truly appreciated Ron's efforts, it was only recently that he realized something very important.

They may all drive him crazy at one point or another, and he may have always felt like he didn't belong with them, but Percy loved his whole family very much. In fact, a primary reason why he wanted to make it big in life was so that he and his family will never know poverty again. Never have to buy everything second hand, wear only hand-me-downs or experience days when food or supplies were tight.

Yet he ended up failing them. He had utterly failed as a big brother.

And as if the incident with the troll hadn't been proof enough, this recent revelation about Scabbers was another painful blow.

He failed again, Percy knew as clear as day, and nothing his little brother said could convince him otherwise.

"Between us, you had the worst of it, really." Ron's expression suddenly turned cloudy. "That bastard didn't do anything to you, did he?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Good, because I should have punched him in the face at least once if he had."

No, no, no that had been all wrong! Percy fretted. HE was the big brother, for Merlin's sake! He was supposed to be the one doing the protecting, be it from the twins, trolls or bloody Death Eaters masquerading as pet rats! He was the one who promised Bill and Charlie that he would keep an eye on Ron and to make sure he stays safe.

But it was Ron who got hurt by a troll. It was Ron who defended him from Snape's scathing remarks upon seeing Pettigrew. It was Ron who let a storm of righteous fury lose on the traitor on his behalf.

For fuck's sake, it was Ron who saw him having a panic attack, and was the one who talked him through calming back down!

Since when had it been the other way around?

The memory of Ron's bandaged face, fresh from the troll attack, flashed before his eyes.

Percy slammed a clenched fist hard against his desk.

It can't stay the other way around.


EVENING PROPHET SPECIAL EDITION

Peter Pettigrew, Alive and a Death Eater!

By Andy Smudgley

19 December 1991: Once thought dead for the last ten years, Peter Pettigrew, recipient of Order of Merlin, First Class, was discovered in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry disguised as a student's pet. Further questioning by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE) revealed that not only was Pettigrew an unregistered Animagus, but is also, in fact, a Death Eater who was the real perpetrator behind the massacre of the twelve Muggles at downtown London on 2 November 1981.

Pettigrew also confessed having been the key accomplice of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named in the attack of Godric's Hollow and the deaths of Lord James Fleamont Potter of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, and his wife, Lily Evans Potter, Heir of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, and his wife Lily Potter, née Evans. Up until now, it had been believed that their alleged Secret Keeper, Lord Potter's friend, Sirius Orion Black was behind these crimes. The Wizengamot sentenced Black to fifteen life sentences in Azkaban with no parole.

"It is indeed a shocking discovery, to find that a once admired hero is in fact a traitor, and that we have incarcerated an innocent man for the past ten years," said Albus Dumbledore, the current Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

When questioned on how Pettigrew was discovered in the first place, Dumbledore answered, "A fortunate accident due to a student's diligence and intellectual curiosity. Rest assured that the student is safe, that Hogwarts is as secure as it has always been, and that our staff is constantly vigilant in ensuring the safety of everyone in our school."

Due to the quick action of the Minister of Magic and the DMLE, under the leadership of Lady Amelia Susan Bones of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Bones, Pettigrew is to stand trial this coming Saturday, 21 December. Black was also reportedly pulled out of Azkaban and is currently recuperating at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

Dumbledore adds, "I give my word as Headmaster that Hogwarts will cooperate with our esteemed Minister to ensure that the true culprit and his innocent victims will finally receive due justice."


The news spread like brushfire on a summer morning.

Reactions all around Hogwarts over having a Death Eater so close to the school so soon after the troll incident ranged from awe to anxiety, and talks shifted from the upcoming holidays to the trial that had taken the whole Wizarding World by storm. The student body was especially keen on finding out just who was that "diligent student" responsible for catching Pettigrew, coming up with wild theories and poking their noses into anything that seemed even slightly out of the ordinary.

And since he was being mistaken for a diligent student who just happened to be missing a pet rat, Ron was quick to arouse suspicion in a matter of hours.

So much for staying under the bloody radar, Ron grumbled to himself (don't ask him what a radar is; it was just something he heard from Harry before). Bloody Seamus and Dean just have to keep asking about the rat. Even under custody and miles away, Pettigrew still keeps giving me trouble!

At least Dumbledore managed to keep his and Percy's involvement off the papers, so he really didn't have to confirm anything nor did anyone have ammunition to corner him. The only ones he did tell the full story were his best friends, the twins and Lee Jordan (who was all but literally attached to the twins' hips anyway). As expected, they were shocked and furious over what happened—the twins even wished they had a chance to punch Pettigrew's face in—it ended with everyone being excited for Harry to meet the now cleared Sirius Black, who may or may not be his godfather.

(Ron might not be able to outright confirm anything, but he can certainly push his friends into the right direction. Oh, the joys of being a time traveller.)

With the trial being only days away, it was obvious why Ron could not join his friends in researching about Flamel. In fact, Harry had insisted that Ron should stay out of it in order to focus on the upcoming event. And, truth be told, Ron had not thought he would need the time until he was actually made to prepare for it.

For the past few days before the trial, Dumbledore had been meeting with him and Percy to coach Ron on how he should carry himself in court and helping him iron out his story in order to convince the Wizengamot without much trouble. Percy, on the other hand, was there because he insisted the youngest Weasley needed the company and it was the least he could do to support Ron. But while Ron appreciated Percy's intention, he could really do without the nagging about his poor posture, unbecoming habitual gestures and ineloquent manner of speech. (It was a testament to how much Percy complained about it that the words 'unbecoming' and 'ineloquent' became part of Ron's vocabulary.)

Dumbledore also informed them who among the Wizengamot members he was sure would be in attendance, and it was the only time the Headmaster worked with Percy on making sure that Ron knew how to pay due courtesy.

From what Ron knew of their justice system, criminal trials in the Wizarding World last half a day at most. Both the plaintiff and defendant present their cases and witnesses, then the jury will examine the evidence for authenticity then cast votes on the verdict, which will be read in detail by the Chief Juror (usually the Supreme Mugwump). Presiding over the trial would be members from both the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Wizengamot. One could tell by the number of Wizengamot members attending just how important of a trial this was.

(It was why it was a big surprise when the majority of the Wizengamot was present during Harry's trial because-Boy-Who-Lived or not-a trial on improper use of magic should not call for it. It only showed how desperate and corrupt the Ministry and the Wizengamot had become during Fudge's term.)

So, knowing all this, Ron had anticipated that most of the Wizengamot will be present for Sirius' trial. More than Sirius' unjust imprisonment being one of the biggest judicial blunders of the Ministry to date, it was a trial concerning one of the oldest and most prominent families of the esteemed group.

"If you were a Halfblood or a Muggleborn, the Court may show you some leniency in not knowing our customs," Dumbledore explained. "But since you are a Pureblood, the esteemed Lords and Ladies will expect you to know the Ways, especially since, regardless of your family's current status, you are representing the Most Ancient and Noble House of Weasley."

Percy and Ron traded frowns at that. Not that they were unaware of that fact, but it was a long time since anyone had ever acknowledged their status as an Ancient and Noble House, a once member of the Wizengamot House of Lords, whose lineage was actually comparable to the Blacks. However, because of recent history, they'd rather pretend that they never were one at all. It was the other reason why the Weasleys spoke so strongly against their inclusion in the Sacred Twenty Eight.

Still, while Ron never cared much for politics, even the thought of what exactly happened to the Weasley seat at the Wizengamot left the taste of rotten eggs in his mouth...

"I'd rather they didn't." Ron finally said. "Sounds like something Ma—I mean, someone nasty would love to throw around a lot, and I don't want to be like them."

"The fact, however, remains that you are still of an Ancient and Noble House, no matter what others may think." The wizened wizard's eyes twinkled. "And contrary to what you may expect, Ron, there are members of the Wizengamot who have not forgotten that, and will expect you to do the same."

They can't be serious! Ron exhaled in frustration. Years of not acknowledging us as one of them, and now that this happened, they're expecting me to act as if I've been part of their bloody peacock fest my entire life! How stuck up can these arse lords be?

...But it's not like I have any other choice.

On the bright side, Dumbledore had promised Ron that the jury would most likely not force extreme measures to ensure the veracity of his statements (i.e. Veritaserum). The redhead didn't feel too confident about that, as the Headmaster would not be the chief Wizengamot representative for this trial for supposed impartiality. But since most of the trial was beyond his control, Ron had to begrudgingly leave this matter to Dumbledore and hope for the best, as he had no way to defend his deepest secrets if subjected to the truth potion. Not to mention that problem with Dumbledore's Legilimency.

Which means Ron thought with a pensive frown over his dinner of boiled potatoes, buttered carrots and roast lamb, once this trial is over, it's high time I learn Occlumency properly.

But how?


"Ron! Percy!"

Harry, Hermione and Neville were immediately onto the red-haired wizard as soon as he and Percy stepped into the Gryffindor Common Room, worry evident on their faces. Ron couldn't blame them; this has been the second time he and his brother had been called up to the Headmaster's office, but it was only now that he had gotten permission to tell his friends what was going on. And since almost everyone was here, today was as good a time as any.

Percy pushed up his glasses over his rueful brown eyes. "I know you have a lot of questions, but just give us a moment to find the twins."

Neville's brows furrowed. "You're not in trouble, are you?"

"Not really. Don't worry, we'll explain everything." Ron smiled when he saw the twins and Lee Jordan playing exploding snap at a desk near the fireplace before bounding over to them. "Fred, George, mind joining us for a bit?"

"Oh, hey there, little brother," started George while his and Fred's eyes remained on the table of cards. Lee was also focused on the game but did give Ron a friendly wave.

Fred smirked before setting another card. "Can you give us a minute—"

"—just need to wipe the floor with Lee for the fifth—"

"Another time, you two," Percy said so sharply it made the twins and Lee look up. "This is very important."

It must have been the grave look in the older Weasley's eyes that made Fred and George simply look at each other and nod instead of complaining about Percy ruining their fun.

Lee stood up as well. "Right, be seeing you later then—"

"No, I think you ought to know too. Fred and George have all but made you an official Weasley by now."

"Ron, Professor Dumbledore said—"

"—that we can also confide in people we trust." Ron shot Percy a meaningful look. "I trust the twins, and they trust Lee. That's good enough, don't you think?"

Percy stared at him a little more before exhaling and smiling slightly. "Merlin, Ron, since when are you this grown-up?"

Ron waved a hand. "It's been known to happen."

"…Thanks, Ron," Lee said with an oddly mystified look that made Ron cough uncomfortably before leading the twins and Lee back to the couch near the fireplace where his own friends were. It was a good thing that they were the only ones around in the Common Room since it was almost curfew, so they didn't have to go elsewhere or worry about someone else overhearing.

Still, Ron was glad—and impressed—that Percy cast a quick Muffliato charm just in case.

"So I reckon you guys heard about a Death Eater being found here at Hogwarts, right?" Ron began.

Hermione traded looks with Harry and Neville before nodding. "Of course. It was all over the news last night, and everyone's been talking about it."

Right. The Ministry acted faster than Ron expected, which was actually a very good thing. Not even a day after the reveal, the Wizarding World was abuzz with the story of Pettigrew's arrest. Talks about the holidays shifted into whispers about a Death Eater still running around a free man all this time and how frightening it was he was found in Hogwarts, of all places, so soon after the troll incident.

"Hang on—" Fred's eyes were suddenly hard and his posture became stiff. "Don't tell me you and Perce had something to do with that!"

"Unfortunately," Percy said lowly, "Scabbers was actually Peter Pettigrew."

"…What?!" Everyone except Ron and Percy exclaimed at the same time. Harry had even jumped to his feet from the couch, his jaw wide open. "But—how did—? Why is he—?"

"Scabbers was an Animagus—a wizard who can transform into an animal— in disguise," answered Percy. "He hid as a rat for the last ten years after framing someone for his crimes."

"You mean the massacre of those Muggles back in 1981," Lee whispered while looking at Harry, "And betraying the Potters…"

Harry sucked in a breath at that, making Hermione squeeze his arm comfortingly. "How did he get discovered? He didn't hurt any of you, did he, Ron?"

All eyes—ranging from worried to furious—went to Ron who shook his head. "Actually, it was a bit of an accident…" Then Ron, with Percy's help, told them about how the reveal went, from asking McGonagall about Animagi, to casting the spell on Pettigrew, to Dumbledore arriving and questioning the rat into confessing.

By the end of the story, even Lee's face had paled considerably. "Holy shite…"

Ron smiled wryly. "That's a good way to sum it up."

George's hand was shaking when he ran it through his fiery red locks. "Merlin, to think that fucking rat had been around us for a decade! Please tell me one of you blokes got to punch him at least once!"

"I wanted to, but someone—" Ron jerked his head at Percy's direction, "stopped me."

Fred snarled. "That coward got lucky I wasn't there." He then cracked his knuckles. "Would have broken his face in if I were, that bastard!"

"That's enough," said Percy. "That criminal is in custody now. All that's left is for him to stand trial before he gets carted away to Azkaban. Then we'll never have to deal with that vermin again."

"It's going to be on the 21st, right?" Lee asked. "Are you two going to stand as witnesses? Is that why Professor Dumbledore's been calling for you?"

The oldest Weasley in the room shook his head. "No, just Ron, because the Headmaster said that he was the one who started the chain of events leading to the reveal."

Neville frowned in confusion. "But wouldn't it be better if it were the two of you, Percy? You were there too, and you're a Prefect. You'd be able to add more credibility to the story."

"Thank you, Neville. I thought that as well. But apparently, both the Headmaster and the Ministry agreed that my testimony would not be necessary." Percy clicked his tongue in a surprising show of irritation bordering to defiance. Ron was seriously worried about what was happening with his authority figure worshipping older brother.

"But can't we come with him at least?" Fred asked. "Ron's just eleven, for Merlin's sake! Shouldn't he have at least family nearby, especially in a trial as big as this?"

"Mum and Dad ought to come too, right?" George added. "But they should be in Romania right about this week."

Ron bit his lip guiltily, knowing that his parents will have to postpone their holidays because of his involvement with the Pettigrew fiasco.

"Of course they'll come," Percy said confidently. "And it's not a closed-door trial, so I'm sure we can all go."

"You really don't have to—"

"Nonsense, Ron." The Gryffindor Prefect snapped. "We'll definitely be there. What kind of family would we be if we didn't show our support at a time like this! ? Weasleys stick together, remember?"

"I thought you would be different. That we could really be brothers! But you're just like everyone else! IF YOU'RE REALLY A GRYFFINDOR, THEN HAVE THE BALLS TO ADMIT THAT YOU WISH WE NEVER WERE!"

That particularly bad memory made Ron look to his shoes. "...R—right."

"So he was the one...who betrayed my parents…" Harry said slowly, obviously still trying to process all the information. "But you mentioned that someone was sent to Azkaban for that, the one Pettigrew framed?"

"Yeah, Sirius Black." The youngest redhead nodded with a smile. "Heard Dumbledore mention he had been best mates with your dDad! I bet he's got loads of stories about him and your Mum!"

But Harry frowned unsurely. "Would he even…? Hermione and Neville said that...that horrid place, they drive inmates mad because of the Demo—Deminters—?"

"Dementors," supplied Neville.

"Right, them. And he had been in that place for ten years. Even if he gets out now, will Mr. Black be…?"

Ron was sorely tempted right there and then to just tell Harry that yes, Sirius Black was still relatively sane and yes, Sirius Black will (if he does not already) love him to pieces. But since he is not supposed to know any of that yet…

"Dumbledore informed us that Mr. Black had been transferred to St. Mungo's as soon as Pettigrew was taken into custody." Percy said gently. "Trust me, Harry, when it comes to healing, he will be in the most capable hands possible. All we can do now is hope for the best for him."

Harry nodded slowly but didn't say anything. Ron frowned worriedly. "You OK, Harry?"

"...Sorry, it's just...a lot to take in," The bespectacled boy rubbed the back of his head. "First the troll, then the match with Slytherin, and now this."

Fred smiled wryly. "And we've barely gotten past the first quarter."

Hermione's eyes softened in understanding. "This must be very overwhelming for you, Harry."

"I know I ought to stop complaining. At least we managed to survive the troll and the Quidditch match all right."

"You went through a lot more than most firsties have," Lee piped in, giving Ron a sideways glance. "You and Ron, actually. It's OK that you think that way. If I was in your shoes in my first year, I would have beaten the stuffing out of those scatter cushions! Take it from me, it does wonders when you think you're gonna go spare!"

Fred pretended to sound horrified. "So it WAS you who was murdering all those poor pillows!"

"And to think people kept saying it was us!"

Lee rolled his eyes. "You and Fred do way worse things than I ever could, George."

"We never—!"

"—such baseless accusations!"

The dark-skinned boy merely snickered. "Take it to someone who'll actually believe your dumb arses."

"Why you—"

"Anyway," Percy said loudly over the arguing third years with what Ron could tell was a fond eye roll (and a barely suppressed smirk of his own). "Like Jordan said, no one will blame you feeling overwhelmed, especially since this matter with Pettigrew strikes so close to home for you. Would it help if we asked Professor Dumbledore if you could visit Mr. Black once he has healed enough? Only if you want to, of course."

Even Ron was taken aback by how empathic Percy was acting right now, knowing the fact that he knew his older brother was still reeling from his own feelings of shock and betrayal from Scabbers' reveal.

It was clear now more than ever how much Ron harshly underestimated his supposedly pompous brother…

The half-unsure, half-hopeful look in Harry's doe green eyes were almost painful to look at. "Can I, really? I wouldn't want to, err, there might be a chance that he…"

"You're his best mate's son, Harry! How can he not want to see you?" Ron pointed out. "Besides, I reckon that if they really were that close, your dad may have even made Sirius your godfather!"

That was when Harry's wide eyes went full Lumos mode. "Godfather?"

"What? You don't have those in the Muggle world?"

"Of course we—"

"No Godparents, you say?" Fred cut Hermione off. "Such a tragedy! Woe unto them poor sods!"

"Indeed, Gred. Yet it falls unto us to educate our good friend, Mr. Potter!"

It was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes with a sigh as the others joined Ron in explaining the basics of godparenthood to a mystified Harry. "Boys."

It may have turned into a passionate—exaggerated—dramatization of just how one is made into a godparent (even Percy had a good laugh over Fred and George all but threatened Lee at wandpoint into "providing and sustaining, in every and all aspects" for their imaginary children), but the way Harry's entire countenance was beaming with excitement and hope—brighter than Ron had ever seen his best friend in a long time—made everything totally worth it.

Although that made Ron suddenly wonder.

Now that I think about it, do I have godparents?


Despite knowing there was no war yet and that he was relatively safe, Ron couldn't help the cold anxiety creeping up his spine, being inside the cold stone walls of the Ministry of Magic, Courtroom One. The room itself was wide and circular, reminiscent of an arena, with ascending rows of benches forming a half-circle next to a raised stone platform with a frayed, dark wooden chair in the middle, and three polished oak podiums. At the other end of the room were more benches, but this time lined up in columns by pairs facing the platform and occupied by the witnesses and invited guests. While the trial was not necessarily a closed one, spectators were admitted on a pre-invited basis only, something Ron had heard Dumbledore insisted on.

Among those he recognized was Andromeda Tonks at the opposite column, her posture calm and collected behind her thick velvet and purple robes. There was also a fidgety Tonks sitting between Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt. While Kingsley appeared content to look around quietly, Moody was frowning heavier than usual, and was tapping his cane every now and then with an air of impatience the younger boy could sense all the way from his seat. At the front of the opposite column were the Professors who were there during the reveal: a tight-lipped McGonagall, a placid looking Durand, and Snape who appeared to be torn between scowling and smirking, looking almost as excited as Ron was for the whole affair to just be done with.

And, Merlin, what is taking the trial so long to start took them so long to finally start the trial? Ron huffed loudly; arms crossed tightly in front of him. It's already eight in the morning! We've been here for at least an hour with nothing to do and hardly any breakfast! Hufflepuff's cream puffs, how much longer are they going to make us—

FLICK!

It took half a second for Ron to realize that he had been flicked rather sharply on the forehead, making him blink and rub at the tingling spot with a scowl. "Oi, what was that for?!"

From next to him, Charlie Weasley shrugged and smirked in response. "Sorry, Ron. For a minute, I thought that piss-off-you-wankers look on your face was gonna be permanent. Thought I ought to do something about it."

"Sod off, Charlie." Ron barely suppressed the desire to flip his brother off. "This trial is taking too bloody long to start, and to think we came here early for this! What else are they waiting for? The end of the holidays?"

A light laugh came from Bill Weasley at Ron's right. "I would certainly hope not. The goblins will have my hide if I can't make it back to Egypt after Christmas."

Ron knew Bill was just trying to lighten the mood, but knowing that he had somehow become an inconvenience made him frown. "You know you don't have to stay too long if it will get you in trouble with Gringotts—"

Charlie exhaled audibly. "Ronnie, I swear, if we weren't in a courtroom, you'd get a headlock for that."

"I'm serious, Charlie—"

That earned him another forehead flick, much to Ron's chagrin. Charlie was lucky their parents were out of earshot for a talk with Dumbledore or their Mum would have twisted their ears for misbehaving. "No, you're Ron, but that's beside the point. Didn't we already talk about this?"

The day before the trial, Ron and his brothers were summoned to the Headmasters' Office for what Ron assumed to be more final reminders for the trial. But what greeted him in the office caught him off guard.

"Ron!"

"Woah, wha—?" The eighteen-turned-eleven blinked incredulously at the redhead hugging his middle. "Ginny?" He blinked again. "Mum? Dad?" His jaw dropped. "Bill? Charlie?"

It was so unexpected that it felt surreal to see his parents and his two oldest brothers around Dumbledore's desk, his little sister in his arms, their whole family brightening the office atmosphere with their hearty back slaps, warm hugs and excited chatter in greeting. Sure, he figured that his parents cancelling the holiday in Romania was called for, but he hadn't thought that Bill and Charlie would be coming over as well.

Dumbledore later explained that he and McGonagall thought of inviting the two oldest Weasley children for both the trial and the holidays, letting the siblings stay at the mostly vacated Gryffindor tower for the time being while their parents were accommodated in one of the guest rooms. Not that Ron wasn't happy about it—he was beyond happy, really—but it bothered him that Bill and Charlie had to leave work just for his trial. He remembered that they could not take the holidays off so easily, at least from what he remembered of his first life.

It took a bit of debate (and Charlie losing his temper somewhat) before Ron let the matter drop, resigning himself to at least having his whole family with him in Hogwarts for this year's Christmas. The thought that he was still being a burden to them remained at the back of his mind, but he really didn't feel like arguing with Charlie about it again.

Thankfully, before Ron could say anything, a loud voice rang in the courtroom like a low bell.

"Announcing the arrival of the esteemed Lords and Ladies of our Wizengamot."

The two double doors at the other end of the courtroom simultaneously opened, and out came several wizards and witches wearing plum robes and hats, walking up to their seats in an orderly fashion with an air of obviously practised elegance.

The Wizengamot was composed of around fifty members, divided into two houses: the lower House of Commons, and the upper House of Lords and Ladies. But while the former house has more members than the latter, it was actually the House of Lords that wielded considerable power. For while the House of Commons members got elected with the approval of the Minister of Magic, the positions of the representatives from the House of Lords and Ladies were considered inheritances, passed down the lines of Wizarding Britain's oldest and most influential families. Families that, even until now, still have a strong grip on Wizarding Britain because of their wealth and the respect they command.

The chubby, balding man at the center of the benches was the first one Ron recognized. There was Minister Fudge—the spineless tosser—next to the toad-faced Umbridge. There was also Nott, a pale faced man with slicked back salt-and-pepper hair and cold grey eyes. Next to him, a dark-skinned woman with a round nose and bushy dark hair who Ron remembered Dumbledore mentioning was from the Ancient and Noble House of Shafiq. There was also a portly man who resembled Ernie MacMillan. Two fair-haired nobles, a man and a woman—siblings, perhaps? —stood next to the stern-looking Lady Regent Augusta Longbottom. Another Lady, this time with wavy brown hair falling loosely around her shoulders, her face somewhat familiar despite the heavy makeup—

A sharp clack diverted Ron's attention from the Wizengamot assembly to the witch who came striding in after the last court member had sat down. Tall, light-skinned with steel curls resting on either shoulder, her plum robes billowing as she made her way to the middle podium. Ron recognized her at once: Lady Regent Amelia Bones, the current head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Bones, and Head of the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Lord and Ladies of the Court, good morning," Madame Bones began. "Today, we convene to hear the case of one Peter Thaddeus Pettigrew, charged with being a Death Eater, servant to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, accomplice to the first-degree murders of Lord James Fleamont Potter and Lady Lily Potter nee Evans of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, and twelve counts of second-degree murder from the London Muggle Massacre of 1981."

The sound of wood slamming came from one of the side doors of the room, making everyone turn to see an oddly dazed looking Pettigrew being led into the room, dragging his feet on the polished wood. The dull-eyed, stiff limbed Pettigrew was then pushed onto the gnarled chair in the middle of the room, and almost at once, chains bound the rat in place. The haggard man, who looked like he had horribly aged ten years since Ron last saw him, did not say anything.

"In line with this compelling new evidence, the Court also reopens the case of one Sirius Orion Black of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, who was once tried and sentenced to fifteen life sentences of Azkaban for the crimes now being accused of Mr. Pettigrew—"

Another door slammed open (how many doors does this courtroom have, anyway?), followed by the sound of squeaking wheels from Ron's right. Sirius Black came in on a wheelchair with Remus Lupin right behind him; pale with sunken eyes surrounded by dark circles, bony arms under a heavy-looking hospital robe, his face hard with a deep frown which grew harsher when his grey eyes landed on Pettigrew's hunched form. Ron suspected that it was only Remus' hand going for Sirius' shoulder that stopped the latter from jumping out of his wheelchair to pummel his traitorous former friend.

"Looks like we're just in time."

"Hey, Mum. Hey, Dad." Bill looked over his shoulder with a slight smile at their parents.

"Sorry we got held up. Met with some chaps from the office then had to check in with Percy, Ginny and the twins." Arthur smiled sheepishly. "Took a bit longer than expected."

"Only because you are too kind for your own good, Arthur." Molly tutted fondly. "Not to mention how hard it was to keep Fred and George from ransacking poor Dedalus' office."

The Weasley patriarch laughed. "At least Dedalus is nice enough to take it all in stride. Keeping four sulking children entertained is a challenge in itself! Remind me that I owe him a night out after the holidays."

Charlie scoffed. "You'll owe him more than a couple of firewhiskeys after having to deal with the twin terrors."

Molly's eyes drifted to the center of the room. "Is that him? Peter Pettigrew? He looks dreadful."

"Serves him right, spineless rat," mumbled Ron too lowly for his mother to hear.

"And that man in the wheelchair, Sirius Black," Molly frowned. "The poor dear. Ten years in Azkaban for a crime he did not commit. Look at him, barely able to stay up. They should have just let him stay at St. Mungos."

Arthur nodded in agreement. "I'm sure they won't let him overtax himself. Lady Bones is sensible enough not to, and focus on finding Pettigrew guilty."

"—and here to present the case is the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore."

Ron's back immediately straightened as the Headmaster suddenly appeared in the middle of the room as if he had apparated in. From the corner of his eye, he saw his Professors straighten up, their attention sharpened.

"Good day, Lords and Ladies of the Court," the old wizard said with a bow. "I stand before you today as both the prosecutor for Mr. Pettigrew and in defence for Sirius Orion Black of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. I, therefore, ask your Graces to carefully consider the evidence presented to you and to arrive at the verdict that is fair and just, rightfully based on the truth you will most assuredly find." He nodded with a stroke of his long silver beard. "Without further ado, I shall now present our case."


Dumbledore was quick to get straight to the point, thank Merlin, presenting the accusations against Pettigrew and the evidence they have gathered against him and for the clearing of Sirius' name.

Ron didn't pay too much attention, even when the Headmaster presented an impressive display of collated memories from the witnesses (including his own) via a Pensive, as he already knew the whole story and frankly just wanted everything to be over with so he can go back to Hogwarts and have some well-deserved breakfast.

The Wizengamot, however, were all leaning forward in rapt attention, with some even nodding or taking notes, as Dumbledore then proceeded to call the witnesses to the stand.

The first to be called was Professor McGonagall, who was as succinct as the Headmaster was, her face betraying nothing but determination even as the questioning began.

"Pettigrew was a former student of yours, wasn't he?" The Wizengamot member introduced as Lord Ernest McMillan of the Most Ancient and Noble House of McMillan asked.

"That he was, and a member of the Gryffindor House."

"Was there any instance you can recall at the time that gave you the idea that he had an inclination to become a Death Eater?"

"No, my Lord." McGonagall's nostrils flared but her face remained impassive. "Pettigrew was a half-blood who never stood out or had any bad record, save perhaps for his barely passable academic performance. There was no indication of him going dark, at least not while he was at school."

Fudge raised his hand to be acknowledged by Bones before asking. "Then how is it that an average student, at best, managed to master the Animagus transformation, reputedly the most difficult and dangerous form of Transfiguration magic known to wizardkind?"

"…It is with the help of his friends, James Potter, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. Lord Potter was especially talented in Transfiguration. He could have completed a Mastery of the subject should he have chosen to pursue postgraduate studies." McGonagall smiled thinly. "Black and Lupin were no slouches in the subject either."

Several questions more were brought up before Dumbledore was asked to call another witness to the stand, this time it was Durand.

"You said that you were on your way to your class when you received the summons from Lady McGonagall?" asked Lady Margaux Selwyn of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Selwyn, an rather dainty looking olive-skinned lady with caramel colored curls and a prominent Roman nose.

"Yes, Lady Selwyn." Durand adjusted her spectacles ruefully. "I saw Lady McGonagall's Patronus with Snape, who was the first one to be called. It said that it was an emergency, so I sent my own Patronus to inform the class that I would be delayed before following them."

"You had no prior knowledge on what was to happen in that classroom, yes?"

"Of course not. I was preparing myself for the worst, but never in my wildest dreams could I have foreseen something like this!"

"Hem, hem," came the sickeningly familiar cough that made Ron want to gag. And from the way Bones said, "acknowledging Ms. Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic," it was clear to him that she felt the same.

"You were at Hogwarts when Mr. Pettigrew and Mr. Black were still at school, were you not, Ms. Durand?" Umbridge asked.

Durand blinked slowly before nodding. "Yes, Ms. Umbridge."

"How well would you say you knew Mr. Pettgirew? Even just by reputation?"

"At best? As Lady McGonagall had said, an average student. At worst?" Durand pursed her lips. "He was something perceived as a hang-on, a tag along to his group of friends. Unlike him, Lord Potter, Mr. Black and Mr. Lupin were quite popular among the students and staff. It was a wonder to many why they would be friends with Pettigrew, who was obviously leagues below them."

"Ah, so could this line of thinking may have influenced his decision to betray them? Would you not say so?"

"…I can see why that would be the case. But I am in no position to affirm such a conclusion."

The court asked a few more questions—getting nothing of real value, in Ron's opinion— before calling for the third witness. Oddly enough, Snape seemed to be enjoying his time at the stand.

"Yes, I shared some classes with Pettigrew." The man said with obvious disdain. "And as my colleague, Ms. Durand said, Pettigrew had been far from noteworthy as a student or a person, and whatever attention he did get, it was because of his association with his ragtag group of friends."

"So, you can confirm that Pettigrew had no apparent inclination to turn Dark?" Asked the beautiful dark-haired lady who Bones introduced as "Lady Atropa Zabini of the Noble House of Zabini."

Lady Zabini? Ron echoed in his head. No wonder she looked familiar! She is a near identical female version of her son! Now that I think about it, isn't she the one they call the Black Widow, marrying seven times, with each husband dying mysteriously shortly after marriage, leaving her richer every time? Many say that there's foul play involved, but no one could prove it.

"If by that you mean spouting hatred towards Muggleborns and blood impurity? No. He's not in the position to either." Snape snapped. "Nor does he have the will to. Pettigrew is a rat through and through. Spineless. Weak. Worthless without his sickeningly glamorous friends. The worst he can do is bite the hand that fed him while their guard was down, a foolish mistake brought about by Black's arrogance and Potter's stupidity."

There was a squeak, and Ron turned to see Remus holding Sirius down, whispering furiously at the emaciated man who was looking ready to fly for a punch at Snape's sneering mug. The boy could hardly blame him. Even his mother muttered something along the lines of "what a foul thing to say!" from behind him.

Nevertheless, the trial proceeded without anyone getting their faces punched in, and the boy really hoped that the court would be happy with three witnesses whose stories tied in pretty well together. Dumbledore mentioned that it wasn't standard procedure to make a key witness such as Ron be the last to be called, but the older man wanted to keep Ron from the stand if it was possible.

Unfortunately, things didn't turn out that way.

"We believe that you have one more witness, Lord Dumbledore?" Zabini asked after Snape was dismissed.

Dumbledore's lips tilted downwards slightly. "With all due respect, my Lords and Ladies, would that be necessary?"

One of the blonds in the court raised their hands, to which Bones promptly said. "Acknowledging Lord Janus Haywood of the Noble House of Haywood."

Ron's eyes widened in recognition. Haywood? There's someone in the Ancient Runes club with that surname! Beatrice, I think?

"It is interesting that the catalyst that led to this trial is saved for last," Haywood said, his eyes twinkling the same way Dumbledore's would. "Personally, I do not see the need for your reservation. Minor or not, a witness is a witness, isn't he, Professor Dumbledore?"

Fudge cleared his throat. "I must agree, Dumbledore, seeing as the boy is already here. Might as well have him wrap up the whole trial."

Ron grit his teeth but held his tongue while the Headmaster sighed deeply. "As the Court wishes, I call Ronald Weasley to the stand."

He felt a couple of hands clap him on the back, and heard his father whisper, "It will be all right," as he numbly made his way to the podium.

Come on, Weasley, get a grip. You practised for this. Besides, with all the evidence, a guilty verdict is a definite given. Just remember what Dumbledore and Percy taught you—

Wait! It was a couple of steps from the stand that Ron remembered to stand straight and bow. "Honored Lords and Ladies of the Court, good morning."

Shite! Nearly messed that up! Thank Merlin I remembered!

There was a soft chuckle, a man's voice. "A Weasley who remembers his Pureblood manners. You trained him well, Dumbledore."

It took all of Ron's willpower to not look for whoever the hell said that and glare him to death.

Focus, Weasley. Focus.

"The Court acknowledges Ronald Weasley of the Most Ancient House of Weasley." Bones said without missing a beat. "Professor Dumbledore, if you would."

"Of course." Dumbledore turned to him with a kind smile. "Now, dear boy, do tell the court what happened from your end."


"…Pettigrew, Scabbers, as we used to call him, my brother Percy first saw him in our garden, sleeping near the watering can…"

If was a surreal experience, talking without really focusing on the conversation going on. Maybe because he had recited this story so many times that he really didn't have to pay much attention to finish it or even answer Dumbledore's questions correctly.

"I got him from Percy after he got his own owl, Hermes. I never really liked that smelly old shoe brush though, planned to keep him locked away all school year…"

But aside from a few minor details, everything he had to say was already mentioned by the Professors. He wasn't really adding anything new to the trial, so why did the Court want him to speak?

"Then I read in one of the books in the library, about Animagi, and had this thought: how can we know if an animal's an Animagus? So I went to ask Professor McGonagall and…"

Can't they just declare Pettigrew as guilty and throw his rat's arse to Azkaban already?

"Ronald Weasley."

Ron blinked out of his stupor when Haywood spoke again. "What?" Another blink. "Err, yes, my Lord?"

"So Pettigrew had been your rat for…" The blond man paused to think, "about ten years, correct?"

"Yes, my Lord. But I really only had him for a little more than six months."

"And all that time, you never once found him to be suspicious?"

"No. I didn't like him, sure, but…" Ron's nose crinkled. "But I wouldn't go as far as to say I thought he was a Death Eater in disguise."

Haywood smiled. "Just to confirm your previous statement, you had no suspicions about Pettigrew's identity at any point in time, even during the time you presented him to Professor McGonagall for a demonstration."

It felt like a cold sweat went down his spine but Ron could not tell why. "Yes, my Lord."

"It's just that it is rather odd, isn't it?" The blond lord continued. "That you just happened to come across information on Animagi—something rarely, if ever, heard of from someone your age—then suddenly thought of the possibility of Animagi running around disguised in their animal forms; and then went to your Transfiguration Professor to ask about it, while you just happened to have Pettigrew with you all the while."

Huh?

"A little…too convenient if you ask me." Haywood finished with a sharp glance that made Ron's hairs stand on end. "Would you not agree?"

Ron was sorely tempted to look away from the man's penetrating grey eyes (He can't be a Legillimens, can he? And even if he were, he wouldn't dare do it in Court, right in front Dumbledore?!) "…What are you getting at, Lord Haywood?"

But before the man could speak again, his smile becoming more and more uncomfortable to see by the second, a hand was raised.

"Acknowledging Lord Aidoneus Greengrass of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass."

Ron had lost how many times he had done double takes today. Greengrass?!

The second blond next to Haywood—who Ron had mistaken for a woman because he was that fair-looking—said in a sharp tone. "With all due respect, Lord Haywood, I do not see where you are going with this line of questioning, nor how will it affect the end result of this case."

The boy could not help but smirk when he saw the man's face fall a bit. "Lord Greengrass—"

"I concur with Lord Greengrass' point, Lord Haywood. Moreover," Dumbledore cut in smoothly, although the look in his blue eyes was quite cold. "Need I remind you, that you are questioning a minor?"

"…Ah, of course," Haywood nodded, his eyes closed behind his smile. "My apologies."

Seemingly satisfied, Greengrass met Ron's eyes. "Mr. Weasley."

The boy straightened in his chair again. "Yes, my Lord?"

"Was there ever a point in time that Pettigrew may have caused harm onto you or your family?"

That was something Ron did not expect. "No. Not that I'm aware of. He was just a lazy rat, trying to stay out of sight, really."

Greengrass' gaze caught Ron's for a good minute, but unlike with Haywood, it didn't feel as threatening or uncomfortable. Though it did feel like a minute too long before he finally nodded. "Very well."

That was odd.

But before he could dwell on it further, he heard McMillan call for his attention again, this time to rehash everything he shared with the court and ironing out a few key points. He was beyond relieved to return to his drifting focus state because that time with Haywood really bothered him.

If someone who barely knew him could pull that sort of conclusion out of their arse—something frighteningly close to the truth—who said that someone who interacted with him on a daily basis won't do the same?

Someone like Snape, or even Dumbledore?

Ravenclaw's puckering peckers! Can someone please get this bloody trial over with so I can get back on more important things already?! Like kicking a Dark Lord's arse or keeping my memories safe from bloody mind rapists?!


It was just Ron, Bill and Charlie in the seventh year Gryffindors' dorm that morning, with the twins eagerly taking Ginny on an impromptu tour of Hogwarts while Percy remained with their parents and Dumbledore, probably discussing the trial again. Because it was so close to the holiday season, Dumbledore arranged for the Weasleys to spend Christmas at Hogwarts, with the children occupying the Gryffindor Tower, which was mostly empty by now, while Arthur and Molly Weasley were to stay in a specific guest room in the castle.

And since he was sick of listening about the bloody thing (although really, he just wanted to spend time with his oldest brothers), Ron quickly volunteered to help Bill and Charlie unpack at the vacated Gryffindor male tower. The older Weasleys were quite happy about being back in their old room again, so much that it was as if they were back to being students again, with Charlie jumping onto the bedspread eagle style while Bill lay down laughing with his hands behind his head.

"I can't believe how much I missed this place!" Charlie said jovially. "Only a year away and being back, I suddenly wish I didn't have to leave!"

"The pains of growing up, Charlie." Bill laughed pleasantly. "Might as well make the most out of it then, right?"

"Soft bed. All the free food I can eat. A giant Quidditch pitch where I can fly all day long—"

"I think we need permission for that—"

"It's the bloody holidays, Bill! Not even Oliver is that obsessed with Quidditch practice, and that bloke's whole world revolves around it!" Charlie huffed before turning to Ron. "By the way, heard you lot won the last game against Slytherin."

Ron smirked from where he was seated on the floor at the center of the room. "Flattened them. Gryffindor's got a strong team this year. You should see Harry on a broom, Charlie. I swear he was born to fly!"

"Speaking of Harry," Bill sat up. "You said that he's spending the holidays here too?"

"Yeah, but it's a good thing." The boy's face darkened. "He said his relatives were downright nasty. With him here, he could get a shot at having a real Christmas."

Charlie grinned. "Looks like we Weasleys should show him how this holiday thing is done, eh? Even saw Mum bring her knitting set along for the ride. Reckon we ought to tell her about Harry?"

"Done just that," said Ron rather proudly. "Wrote to her once that Harry will be spending the holidays here because his relatives are awful and never gave him a good Christmas ever. Bet she's already working on his Weasley sweater if it's not done already."

"Of course you would, Ron." Bill was eyeing Ron with such an odd, soft look on his face that it made the youngest boy look away uncomfortably. He knew it wasn't much, but even in the first life, Ron felt that since he could do way less on his own, he thought that by asking for his mum's help, he'll be able to make Harry's first Christmas at Hogwarts a lot more fun and meaningful, the same way those Christmas dinners with his family were for Ron.

"A—Anyway, I still can't believe you could leave work for the holidays!" Ron went on. "Can you and Charlie go on leave like this every year?"

"Not really. Well, not for me. The goblins don't really see Christmas as a holiday. Instead, they have their own festivals different from our own." Bill winced at the memory. "Very, very different. But since this is a special case, and since I have proven myself to be somewhat trustworthy, they granted my request."

Charlie shrugged. "New blood like me normally won't be able to take holidays off until a year later. But as Bill said it's a special case. The folks back at Romania get it."

Ron remembered that after Bill and Charlie left home, they hadn't been around for the holidays for a while because the nature of their jobs didn't allow them. It was only during Ron's fifth year when Bill requested a transfer to a desk job and Charlie somehow managed to find the time, that the older two were able to spend Christmas with the family again.

(But it wasn't really the whole family because Percy left them by then.)

He remembered their mother bringing it up once to Bill and Charlie back then, to which Bill sheepishly responded that it was because the Goblins didn't really see Christmas as a holiday while Charlie said that his workload back at the reserve won't let him just drop everything and take a break.

But yet they're here for my trial and for Christmas. Ron thought with a frown. I appreciate the thought, honestly. But…why only now? What makes now different? Does it really have to take something like this for them to come over more often? It's not fair. I barely get to spend time with Bill and Charlie. By the time I had a working brain, they were always off somewhere, be it Hogwarts or one of their other friends. And whenever they do have time to come home…they're always with someone else…

A second later, he mentally slapped himself.

Dunderhead! Why are you complaining so much? Bill and Charlie are busy with work, that's why they can't come. But they try to visit whenever they can, right? Like back at the Quidditch World Cup! They have their own lives now. It's not fair to ask for what little time they have left for themselves. Merlin, Ron, why are you still such a brat?

"Don't worry too much about it." Charlie continued. "You really think Bill and I would just pop in here without working something out with our bosses?"

"This is a big trial, Ron, and of course, we'd want to be here to support you," Bill added gently. "Besides, it's a chance to spend the holidays together again. Why won't we be up for that?"

Then why were you not around for three Christmases? Another mental slap. Bratty Ron, shut the fuck up! "…If you say so…"

"Really, Ron, you're starting to sound as if you don't want me and Charlie around anymore," Bill said with a look of mock hurt. "Are we too old for you now, little man? Too cool for his working-class big brothers?"

"I've got a Curse Breaker and a Dragon Tamer for working-class big brothers." Ron deadpanned. "If anything, you're the ones who're too cool for me."

There was a creak that made Ron look up, right in time for his head to connect with a flying hand, making the boy cry out. "Ouch! Charlie!"

Only for Ron to shrink back when he saw the fire in Charlie's eyes. "Who the hell taught you to talk shite like that?"

"Charlie!" Bill said warningly while Ron rubbed his head in confusion. "Wh—what—? What the hell's with you all of a sudden?"

"I should be the one asking you that! First, you make a big deal over us being here, and now you're talking as if you're dirt under our boots!" The second oldest Weasley scowled. "Do I have to keep smacking the back of your head until it sinks in? We're here because we want to be here! Because we actually want to be here for our family so we're looking for every excuse we can so stop acting like we think it's a drag or I swear to all things magical, I will hit you again!"

"OK, OK, I get it!" Ron waved his hands frantically in surrender. "Godric's pants, isn't this borderline child abuse?!"

Charlie shrugged. "Not if I'm doing it for a better cause."

"How is giving me brain damage a better cause?"

"All right, Charlie, back off. You already made your point." Bill came to his feet, making a shooing gesture at the dragon tamer who groaned with a shake of his head. "But I do get how you feel. And if Ron says something like that again, I might end up flicking his head first."

The poor boy openly gawked. "Come on, not you too, Bill!"

But the hand that landed on Ron's head was far gentler, and the light in Bill's eyes reminded the boy of slow-burning embers. "Merlin, you really have no idea how much you worried Charlie and me, have you?"

"…Huh?"

"Barely a year away from home for the first time and suddenly you're involved in a Death Eater's trial. I suppose I should be grateful that you or Percy didn't get hurt but…" Bill's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. " Please don't tell me you're planning to give the twins a run for their money. They already get into enough trouble without trying to get into one. I won't want to have to worry about you too."

Ron couldn't help but drop his gaze, guilt churning in his stomach in waves. He knew Bill and Charlie cared for him, but…he never thought it would be this much. Or have they always? Why can't he remember…?

Something suddenly turned warm in his pocket, and he barely stopped himself from pulling out the Deluminator-like device from it. But his hand did manage to touch the metal, causing a flash of images and voices…

"Cursed, confunded and attacked by brains." Bill, shaking his head, running a weathered hand through a sleeping Ron's head. "Merlin, Ronnie, do you even know how lucky you are to be alive right now?"

"Stupid little rascal, getting poisoned on your birthday. Making me worry out of my mind all the way from Romania." A grumbling Charlie, downing a tin of beer while mussing his red bangs in agitation. "I ought to hex all your hair off the next time I see you!"

The boy barely suppressed a cry. What the hell?

A hoarsely sobbing Charlie, violently trembling over Ron's unmoving body. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier! I'm sorry for never being around but I'm here! Big brother's here now and big brother's not leaving you ever again…!"

"This can't be it…!" Bill's hands were shaking so hard they nearly tore the parchment in two. "This can't be…this can't be all that I have left of him!"

More visions? Ron shook his head when the last of them faded from view. Bloody hell! What set that off this time?! And can't they at least come with a better warning next—

"Don't give him any other ideas, Bill! " Charlie glared at Bill then at Ron. "And you better not, Ronald Weasley! The twins' antics are enough grey hair inducing nightmares!"

Bill laughed. "You know you are not really in the position to talk, Charlie."

"But we're not talking about me, are we? We're talking about this little rascal who is a born magnet for trouble!" The dragon tamer rolled his eyes. "Remember all that shite he got into back when he was a tot? Like what happened with the Lovegoods just last year?"

"Now to be fair, if Ron hadn't been—"

"I don't give a shite if he saved the whole bloody world that day! Point is, he could have gotten killed and he was only fucking—!"

"Charlie, language!"

Ron ducked his head, hoping that his debating brothers didn't notice his burning ears.

They don't know about the troll, do they? Do they? Merlin, please don't let them find out about the troll…


DAILY PROPHET SPECIAL EDITION

THE TRIAL OF THE DECADE!

PETER PETTIGREW FOUND GUILTY! SENTENCED TO LIFE IMPRISONMENT IN AZKABAN!

SIRIUS BLACK, CLEARED OF ALL CHARGES!


So remember how back in the Halloween chapter, when the word length got too long that I had to cut it in two?

Well, it happened again. Yay!

By the way, for those who may be wondering why the Haywoods are part of the Noble Houses, some clarification: I do NOT consider the Hogwarts Mystery game's story as canon, but I will borrow some of the characters there, as well as some other franchises in HP lore. The way nobility works in this fanfic will also be explained in the future, so if all those titles leave you confused, don't worry about it. :)

To those of you who are still reading this, thank you very much for your time, and consider leaving a review if you liked it!

So I hope you all enjoyed your early Christmas gift. Happy Holidays to you all and see you in the next one.

UP NEXT: The Trial over, all Ron wants now is a nice, uneventful Christmas vacation with his family and Harry. Wait, did someone say uneventful? Not if a certain mirror has something to say about it!