Chapter 7: The Family of Red

Chapter 7: The Family of Red

Weeks past by, and Malfoy's threat seemed nothing more than a bunch of talk. Hermione was feeling extremely good since she found out that Azar wasn't a prefect like she was. Harry wanted to remind her that it was probably because she hadn't been there for four years, but decided against it. He didn't really find anything special about being a prefect. In fact, he rather wished that he had missed it, like Ron.

Harry was extremely glad to be back and was having a fairly good time. Defense Against the Dark Arts turned out to be an okay class, though it was made much more enjoyable by the fact that half the boys spent the whole time gazing dreamily at Professor Connerly or waving their hands frantically to answer a question.

Harry and Hermione had been spending an awful lot of time in the library. Harry thought that with Voldemort's return, it might be good to know a few spells and Hermione was apt at teaching him. Ron, however, found this boring and would go off with Ginny or Fred and George whenever they decided to go to the library.

The sun was setting one day when Harry and Hermione got to the portrait of the fat lady. Tired, they gladly gave her the password and went through the wall.

When Harry and Hermione entered, however, a strange sight caught their eyes. The common room was almost completely silent except for a few nervous whispers and shuffles, and muffled sobs. Harry and Hermione followed the wary glances of those in the room and saw three of the Weasleys together, a little apart from the crowd.

They walked up to them, still completely confused. Fred was sitting on an armchair and Ginny, having flung herself onto him, was sobbing into his chest. He had his arms around her, as if by instinct. His face was full of shock and his eyes never blinked. George stood near them, looking down at his brother and sister but not really seeing them.

"What happened?" Harry asked in a quiet tone, but with earnest.

George jumped, turning quickly toward them, his face full of pain. Fred slowly turned his head to them, but his expression remained unchanged.

"Just got an owl…" George said, his voice quiet and strained and eyes blank, "He was just walking down the street. Was dark… but never thought… They jumped him. Other people were there…they ran…hid. Cruciatus Curse… Demanded information, he wouldn't tell. He writhed again… They wanted knowledge of the resistance… He refused. The man cursed him again. He got angry…threatened him. Percy said no… They…killed him…"

Harry felt as though someone had slapped him in the face. He could feel the color drain from his face.

"Oh my gosh! Ron!" Hermione gasped.

The two rushed up the stairs. When they got to the door, Harry stopped.

"I dunno if you should come in, Hermione."

"What?!"

"Maybe I should talk to Ron. I could bring him out and…"

"Harry, I don't care if Neville is stark naked in there! Ron is my friend! He needs us both!"

Harry nodded, gulping, and then opened the door quietly. The same kind of muffled sobs as Ginny's filled the room. Ron was lying on his bed, crying into his pillow. The two friends stood at the foot of the bed for a moment, unsure of what to say, what to do.

Then Hermione walked over to his side, sat on the bed, and hugged Ron around the shoulders as best she could.

"It'll be okay, Ron," she murmured, her head on his back and eyes closed, "We're here for you."

"We always joked about him," Ron wept into his pillow, "We always tried our best to annoy him. I always said I was ashamed to be his brother. I never told him I loved him. I did, and I never told him."

"He knew," Hermione said, hugging him tighter, "And he loved you, too, more deeply than he ever let show."

"I even said he'd pull a Crouch. He didn't. He knew everything and could have saved his life, but he didn't. Oh Hermione, how can I even live with myself! I don't deserve to live!"

"Don't say that, Ron! We need you, and so does your family. Don't ever think otherwise."

Ron's sobs quieted, but he didn't try to get up and Hermione didn't move. Harry stood for a moment, and then walked over to Ron's other side. He sat down, looking at the two of them for a moment. Then, reaching around both of them, he embraced his friends. They remained silent. Feelings were enough.

****

Though Ron was given permission to stay in his dormitory, he chose instead to continue his classes. The three friends spoke little between classes, and even less at lunch. They all headed to Potions unsure of what to say, or whether anything needed saying.

Snape wrote the ingredients on the board and then began pacing the rows, glancing down at the students as they prepared their potions.

Ron's hands shook as he began to cut up his newt tails. His breathing seemed labored and he struggled to keep his mind on what he was doing. Suddenly, his knife slipped from his fingers and clattered on the stone floor.

That seemed to be his breaking point. Ron folded his arms on his desk and buried his head in them, his shoulders shaking with sobs. Then, the unexpected happened.

Snape came up, and placed his hand firmly on Ron's shoulder. It wasn't in a reprimanding way, but filled with sympathy and comfort. Ron looked up and his teary-eyes opened wide as he saw whose hand was on his shoulder.

Then Snape continued his pacing. The class was silent, staring for a while then going back to their cauldrons. Ron took a deep breath, wiped his eyes, and picked up his knife. He began cutting and mixing with new resolve.

Harry, however, had trouble the rest of the class. His mind couldn't think of anything but the look that had been on Snape's face. It had seemed so understanding, so kindly. Could it be possible that Snape might be more than the irritable teacher he portrayed?

Harry watched Snape pace, until his eyes met Harry's and gave him a glare that could only mean 'get back to work.' As Harry began chopping away furiously, he knew his answer. Today must have been a fluke.

~*~*~

A/N: Well, you knew something was supposed to

happen to the Weasleys…

I hope none of you are too angry that I killed

Percy. He always seemed the least-liked

Weasley…but he didn't pull a Crouch…

Thank you all for reviewing!

-Ady