A/N Wow, thanks for all the feedback! I love you guys! I know I said I'd wait for 20 reviews, but you can thank CrystalHorse72 for this. I had to post it for her. Thanks hun!
Okay, well, this chapter is the last chapter with Nickleback. If anyone can guess the next lyrics, major kudos to you! (Sierra, Star*dust, and other Hoosier peeps: you don't count) There are also lyrics in this chapter from the songs 'Wind Beneath my Wings' and 'Right Here Waiting for You'. Don't own them either.
Okay, onward!
Chapter Three:
The Potters
~It's not like you didn't know that
I said I love you and I swear I still do
And it must have been so bad
Cause livin' with me must have damn near killed you
And this is how you remind me of what I really am~
*Nickleback's "How You Remind Me"
"Thirsty?"
"Parched," Ron replied. He took the proffered lemonade from Hermione, and Harry did the same.
"God, you guys act like you've never been shopping before," Hermione said, rolling her eyes at her two male companions.
"It's not the shopping," Harry explained. "It's shopping with you."
"Oh thanks, Harry, love you too!" She snapped, but smiled anyway. Ron hid his glare behind the lemonade. They really didn't know how blessed they were to love and be loved.
The three had finally done something together...the first they had done since school let out. Of course, they had had dinner back in July, but Ginny had been there. Hanging out with just Harry and Hermione had reminded him of the good old days.
The "Good Old Days". That sounded like a corny Muggle sitcom with really fake acting and sappy themes.
Well, the date for the wedding had been set: December 22, the Saturday after the last day of term for Hogwarts students. The threesome had been shopping for Harry's tux and, consequently, whatever Ron was going to wear as best man.
As Harry and Hermione were playfully fighting, Ron's eyes wandered absently around the living room of their flat. They landed on the quaint little clock on the mantle above the makeshift fireplace. He lazily gazed at it, but then suddenly sat straight up.
"What?" Harry and Hermione asked in unison.
"I've gotta go," Ron said, reaching for his cloak.
"Where?" Harry asked suspiciously. Ron smiled to himself while the other two couldn't see. Harry had been very curious about the going-ons of Ron's life since the incident in Diagon Alley. Obviously after he had left Draco showed up, and Harry had been rather jealous that Malfoy knew more about his best friend's life than he did.
Well, it was Harry's own fault. Draco and Ron spent all kinds of time together, along with the girls. Then again, Ron would realize when this thought crossed his mind, those three would understand if he just had to get up and leave like he had in Diagon Alley, while Harry would just get suspicious. No, it was better this way.
"I'm supposed to meet Rayven for dinner in three minutes." Ron answered with complete honesty. Well, almost complete honesty. He was also meeting Draco and Angel, but he wasn't about to tell them that...he got the feeling they would not be amused.
"I thought you didn't have to be there until seven," Hermione frowned. Ron sighed; all this interrogation was really quite a hindrance.
"Hermione, look at the time," Ron said, shaking his head. She did so, and gasped.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She cried. "I didn't mean to keep you!"
"It's fine," Ron replied, grinning at her. "I like being fashionably late. See you!" And with a wave he disapparated.
"I don't like it," Harry muttered.
"Hmm?" Hermione replied, looking up from the lemonade she had returned to.
"I don't like it. I don't like not knowing what's going on with him."
"Oh, Harry, he's a big boy now," Hermione rolled her eyes.
"It's not that, it's just..."
"What, do you think he's a Death Eater or something?" Hermione replied with a devilish grin.
"No! Of course not!" Harry replied in horror, his eyes widening. "Ron would never!"
"Exactly, so just calm down." Harry obeyed.
"So, where do you want to eat?" He asked.
"Where? Are you taking me out, Mr. Potter?" Hermione asked, grinning.
"Well, unless you want to cook..."
"Hell no!"
"Watch the profanity, Granger." Harry teased.
"Let's go to Le Tour Eiffel," She said jokingly.
"Do you want to?"
"Harry that place is ridiculously expensive." Hermione said, aghast.
"No place is too good for my girl." Harry said, offering his arm.
"Harry-"
"No, 'Mione, my treat."
"If you insist," Hermione sighed. Then she dropped the I'm-only-going-because-you-want-to and giggled childishly. "Let me go get dressed!" She sped upstairs, leaving Harry rather confused about the odd habits of women.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Where's Draco?" Rayven asked her friend, frowning.
"Business," Angel said in a final tone, which Rayven didn't question. "And Ron?"
"Um..."
"Hey!" They whipped around to see Ron, who was dusting his cloak.
"All righty then," Angel said, rubbing her hands together mischievously. "Where are we going again?"
"Le Tour Eiffel," Rayven replied promptly. "We're apparating to that little park outside the Ministry building, and hailing a cab."
"Sounds good to me." Ron replied. They disappeared, and then appeared again a park, and then (after much trial and error) got their cab. It dropped them off right in front of a rather expensive French restaurant. They went inside, and (by some miracle) only waited 10 minutes for their table. The three were very aware of the missing quarter of their little group.
"What IS this stuff?" Angel demanded, frowning at the menu, which consisted entirely of French dishes.
"Like I know. Poulet a l'orange?" Ron said, making a face. Rayven sniggered at his terrible pronunciation.
"Hey everyone, sorry to keep you waiting...not that you waited, I see," Draco said, sounding amused as he surveyed the three diners trying desperately to make sense of the French.
"Draco, do you know what 'Gat-oo oo from-age a la chocolate' means?" Angel asked.
"First of all, it's 'Gateau au fromage a la chocolat'. Draco said, speaking the language fluently, and snickering at the other three as he took his seat. "And it means chocolate cheesecake."
"Oh," Angel replied, blushing. Draco rolled his eyes.
"I suppose I'm going to have to tell you all what's edible and what's not?" Draco mused.
"Only if you want to keep your head where it is," Rayven replied sweetly.
"As you wish!" He cried dramatically, and proceeded to explain the menu. The waiter came by, and they all ordered, praying the Draco had been honest. You could never tell with the Malfoy smirk.
None of them noticed the handsome, dark-haired man and the beautiful brunette being lead to a table not far away by the maitre'd.
"This is delicious!" Rayven cried after one bite of her dinner. "Er...what is it again?"
"Spinach quiche," Draco replied, rolling his eyes.
"Right, right, I knew that." She blushed.
"Um, Rayven?" Angel said, looking up from her plate.
"Huh?" The other girl replied in between bites.
"Will you come to the bathroom with me?"
"Of course." The girls collected their purses and went off chattering. Draco and Ron exchanged looks.
"Women," Ron muttered, not for the first time since meeting Angel and Rayven.
"Why do they have to go to the bathroom in pairs?" Draco asked, making a face.
"There are some questions with no answers, Draco."
There was an awkward pause. Suddenly, it was brought into a painfully bright light that Ron and Draco were supposed to be enemies. They were supposed to hate each other, carrying on the generations of hatred. But, Ron suddenly realized, he could no longer hate Draco if he tried.
"Weasley, I think there's something you should know." Draco said. Ron raised an eyebrow.
"Yes?"
"You are the strangest person I know. You had this tight-knit family, and tight-knit friends, and basically a career as an auror laid at your feet. And you threw it all away for this. Only a Gryffindor would do something so stupid. And..." Draco looked rather embarrassed. "Only a Gryffindor would do something so brave."
Ron raised the other eyebrow. "Was that a compliment, Malfoy?"
"Of course not!" Draco exclaimed in mock horror. "I don't want to ruin my reputation!" The two boys laughed. Not the timid, awkward schoolgirl giggles or the cynical, cold Death Eater chuckles Ron had grown so accustomed to. It was the loud, hardy guffaws of two men having a good time. Something Ron had never shared with anyone outside his brothers and Harry...and Draco had never shared with anyone.
"Who is laughing so loud?" The black-haired man asked. The brunette frowned.
"It is rather annoying," Hermione muttered.
"Tell me about it." Harry rolled his eyes. Hermione was searching the place curiously. "Hermione, stop it. You look like my Aunt Petunia when you do that." He shuddered.
"I'm just curious, and besides-" She gasped. "Oh my God! Harry, look to the left. No, I mean your right, my left. Wait, not yet they'll see us!"
"Hermione, what in the hell are you talking about?" Harry demanded, starting to feel his temper rise.
"Wait, he'll see you! Oh my GOD!" Hermione was sounding frantic and shocked at the same time.
"What is going on?" He demanded.
"Okay, they're sitting almost right behind us, a little to your right..." She was muttering.
"WHO?!" Harry snapped.
"You'd never believe me, you'll have to look for yourself." Hermione said. "Wait, not yet!" But it was too late. Just to make Hermione mad more than anything else, Harry had very obviously turned his body so he could see the tables behind him. His eyes immediately caught what Hermione had been talking about.
Ron and Malfoy, sitting next to each other. Sitting next to each other and LAUGHING. As Harry watched, Malfoy poured them both a second glass of champagne. He quickly turned back around, fuming.
"What the Hell?" He muttered, as Hermione bit her lip and watched them from around her wine glass. "I thought he was going to dinner with Rayven, not Malfoy!" Harry hissed.
"What is going on...I thought he hated Malfoy." Hermione said.
"He does!" Harry snapped.
"He did." She corrected. "Obviously, something happened that we didn't know about."
"Well, what in the-" He suddenly stopped short.
"What?" She asked, now as annoyed as he had been just a few moments earlier.
"Look who's coming out of the girl's bathroom," Harry muttered. Hermione spun around (but much more inconspicuously than Harry had) to see two girls approaching them. One had short, curly, lighter brown hair. The other had longer, straight hair, which was almost auburn in color. Hermione immediately recognized the second as Rayven Michaels.
The two girls didn't seem to notice Harry and Hermione's eyes on them as they passed their table. They were giggling and talking, wrapped up in their own little world. Harry felt his eyes bulge as they took the two empty seats at Ron and Draco's table.
"This just keeps getting weirder and weirder..." He muttered.
"Tell me about it," Hermione replied. Meanwhile, Ron and Draco were demanding to know why the girls had been gone so long.
"Do you really want me to answer that question?" Angel asked. The two boys exchanged looks.
"No." They replied in unison.
"That's what we thought!" Rayven said. She went back to her food. "Hmm...needs salt." She muttered. "Where's the salt?" The other three all looked at each other questioningly. "We don't have any salt?" Rayven wailed. "Well, I suppose I'll just...there! There's an empty table with a salt shaker, I'll just go steal theirs."
"Have fun," Draco muttered, as if it were going to be the worst experience of her life. Rayven rolled her eyes and stood to go retrieve her salt. How convenient...the table she wanted was right next to Harry and Hermione's.
"Rayven!" Hermione said as the other girl went past.
"Hermione!" Rayven exclaimed. "And Harry too! Gracious, what are you guys doing here?"
"Eating, obviously." Harry said, gesturing to his food. Rayven rolled her eyes.
"Thank you, Mr. Stating-The-Obvious." She replied.
"So Rayven, who are you here with?" Hermione asked quickly, flashing her most charming smile.
"Ron, Draco, and Angel." Rayven replied. "I don't think you've met Angel. Maybe you should come over and meet her..."
"No, that's quite alright," Hermione said. "Don't want to bother you or anything." Rayven gave her a quizzical look.
"It would be no bother, I assure you-"
"Yes it would." She said firmly. Rayven suddenly remember the glares exchanged between Harry and Draco in Diagon Alley, and decided Hermione was probably right. "Anyway, I have a question for you." Hermione continued.
"Yes?" The other girl asked.
"Well...it's about Ron and Ma-Draco." Hermione said sweetly. "Would you consider them...friends?" She forced the last word out. Harry stared at Rayven intently.
"Friends? Heavens no!" Rayven said, laughing. Harry and Hermione let out identical breaths of relief. But Rayven, being Rayven, had to open her big mouth and go on. "More like brothers." Harry blanched, and Hermione froze.
"R...really?" Hermione said, struggling to maintain control of her voice. "What makes you say that?"
"Oh, the way they always fight like siblings, but are really close underneath." Rayven said, completely oblivious to their reactions. "You wouldn't even know how close they were if you didn't know them like I do. They act like enemies, but really, they're like this." She crossed her first two fingers. She opened her mouth to say more, but then she seemed to take notice of her gesture.
Rayven smiled, but it was not the same happy-go-lucky smile Hermione had seen just moments earlier. Her face was stone cold, and her smile was more like a sneer. She seemed to find more in those crossed fingers than she had first implied. "How ironic..." She muttered. Then, she snapped out of it. "Anyway, I just came for some salt," She said, trying to get back the happy person she had been a few minutes ago. It didn't work. She snatched the salt a little too quickly. "Uh...tootles!" And with that, she fled.
"What took you so long?" Angel demanded as Rayven sat down, looking rather flustered.
"I ran into some people I knew." Rayven muttered.
"Who?" Draco demanded.
"Harry Potter and Hermione Granger." She replied, with a sidelong glance at Ron. His sharp blue eyes immediately caught their table. He cursed under his breath.
The wedding was going to be interesting, to say the least...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"We're going to be late!"
"Hold your horses!"
"What are you doing in there anyway?"
"Just adding some final touches to my hair."
"Oh my God..." Ron muttered, turning around and flopping onto the couch. He looked at his watch. Yep, they were going to be late. It was December 21, and the Rehearsal Dinner was due to start in thirty seconds, but Rayven still hadn't come out of her room. Women. He rolled his eyes.
"Well, how do I look?" A feminine voice asked. Ron leapt up and spun around. He was already to say 'fine, let's go', but he couldn't. He could only stare.
Rayven was beautiful, in simple terms. The dress was baby blue, reaching the floor and held up by spaghetti straps. Her deep brown hair was curled, and held back by butterfly pins. It occurred to Ron that he had never seen her in a dress before.
"You look...great." He muttered. Even though the words did her no justice, she could see the praise in his eyes and blushed.
"Thanks," She whispered. There was a moment of awkward silence, and Rayven was transported back to the sunrise when they had almost kissed. What if they had actually...
"We'd better go." Ron said suddenly, interrupting her thoughts. He held out his arm, which she took. In that moment before they apparated, anyone who had seen them would've said they looked like the perfect couple.
But no one saw them.
"There you are!" Hermione said, smiling at Rayven and Ron. Somehow, Ron had smoothed over the whole incident at 'Le Tour Eiffel', although he would never know how. In his opinion, his two best friends just wanted to believe he wasn't friends with Draco, so they did.
"Hermione, you look beautiful!" Rayven squealed. Hermione's creamy dress was simple compared to the one she would be wearing tomorrow.
"So do you." Hermione smiled. "Come, come." She led them into the dining room, taking her place on Harry' left and Ginny's right. The two seats to Harry's right were open for them. Everyone was looking at Ron expectantly, waiting for an introduction. He felt his ears redden...he hated speeches.
"Um, everyone, this is Rayven, a friend of mine," Ron said, gesturing to the girl next to him. She smiled charmingly. "Rayven this is-"
"No, allow me," Rayven interrupted, winking at Ron. She pointed to Mr. Weasley. "Arthur Weasley, your dad; Molly Weasley, your mum; Bill Weasley; your eldest brother, who works at Gringotts; Charlie Weasley, your second brother, who works with dragons; Percy Weasley, who works at the Ministry, another brother; then George and Fred, twin brothers who run the joke shop; then Harry and Hermione, the happy newlyweds-to-be; Ginny Weasley, you little sister, still in her final year at Hogwarts; Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, who was cleared two summers ago; then Neville, Seamus, and Dean, who shared a dorm with you and Harry back at school; a couple of aurors you don't know anyway; Albus Dumbledore, who...well, EVERYONE knows Dumbledore, and that's about it!" She finished this with a huge smile. Everyone stared.
"No, you're wrong." Ron said. "You're so wrong." He pointed at his twin brothers. "That's Fred and that's George."
"No, I assure you Ron, that's George, then Fred."
"They're my brothers, Rayven, I think I know which one's which."
"I'm telling you, it's George and Fred."
"No, it's Fred and George!"
"Ron look," Rayven said, pointing at the twins in question. "George's right ear is slightly higher than his left. Fred's are even."
"What are you talking about?" Ron demanded. "Okay, you two, which one's which?" He said, rounding on the twins.
"I'm George." The twin next to Percy said sheepishly. Ron turned in amazement to Rayven.
"Told you so!" She declared, skipping happily to her seat next to Fred. Ron, muttering under his breath, took his seat between Rayven and Harry.
"Okay, um...let there be food!" Harry declared, and food there was. Immediately, talk broke out, mixing pleasantly with the clatter of forks and knives. Rayven fit right in, much to Ron's relief. She could be very charming when she wanted to be. At the moment, she was in a debate with Percy about British involvement of Death Eater activity abroad. Right up their alley.
The meal continued pleasantly. And as the main dish threatened to give way to desert, Ron and Harry found themselves inevitably discussing Quidditch. Meanwhile, Rayven was trying to talk to Hermione and Ginny around the boys. As the pie came out, Harry and Rayven gave up and switched seats.
Ron was happy to be talking to his best friend again, there was no doubt about it. However, there was always a 'but' involved in any happiness in Ron's life these days, and today it was that there was something bothering Harry. He was hiding it rather well, and at first Ron thought he was imagining it. But as the meal went on, Ron knew something was up.
"Harry." Ron said very seriously, interrupting his friend's long spiel on Wronski feints.
"Hmm?" The other replied.
"What's up?"
"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, even though he already knew.
"There's something going on. Fess up." Ron commanded. Harry looked around nervously, and Ron rolled his eyes. It was like they were back in school talking about mindless gossip all over again.
"Ron, I got a wedding invitation today." Harry whispered, hardly audible. No one but Ron could here.
"And this is a bad thing?" Ron asked, confused.
"Yes. It was from my cousin, Dudley." He continued, sounding very serious.
"So your cousin's getting married." Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Big deal."
"There was a letter enclosed," Harry continued, as if he had never been interrupted. "I am not invited to the wedding at all. He sent the invitation because his bride-to-be made him. It was a rather nasty letter."
"Harry, it's just Dudley." Ron said, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. As much as Harry hated the Dursleys, they were his only family. Harry sighed.
"I know, but still...I just don't understand why they hate me so much!"
"Well, you didn't invite Dudley to your wedding." Ron pointed out.
"Yes I did." Harry countered bitterly.
"Well...just don't let it get to you, mate." Ron said, trying to smile and go back to his pie. Why did people like that stupid cousin of Harry's have it so good, while Harry's life was, while in the eyes of an onlooker enviable, in reality hellish? Sure, Ron had envied Harry at a younger age, but that was before becoming a Death Eater. Even Harry didn't even know half the horrible schemes on his life, because the Circle of the Two-Faced would stop it before it ever got that far.
"So, about the Cannons..." Harry said enthusiastically, trying to change the subject. Ron obliged, and desert continued happily. Soon, people were starting to file out.
"Well, I guess we should clean up." Hermione muttered.
"I'll help." Rayven volunteered, and Ginny also stayed along.
"Are you staying, Ron?" Harry asked, grinning at his friend. "You're not going to leave me here with the girls, are you?"
"Of course I'll stay." Ron said happily.
Famous last words.
At that moment, the familiar agony seized his left arm, and he had to grab a chair to steady himself. He was never ready for the summons. No one was.
"On second thought, maybe I should go home." Ron said through clenched teeth, trying to sound natural. "I don't want to be a bother."
"Bother?" Hermione snorted. "We want you to clean, duh."
"Well, I'm really bad at cleaning." Ron said. Dear Lord, he could swear that it was worse than it had ever been before.
"I don't think-"
"See you tomorrow!" Ron said, waving and disapparating before Hermione could finish her sentence.
The Dark Lord was outside, waiting for him. At his side, in the trademark black robes but without the mask, was Lucius. Ron sighed with relief, the pain leaving him. Then, his curiosity kicked in. What was Lucius, of all people doing here?
"I was beginning to get impatient." Voldemort hissed.
"My apologies, my Lord." Ron muttered, bowing. "I had to make excuses."
"To Potter?" The Dark Lord asked, amusement flitting across his features.
"Yes, my Lord." Ron said. There was really no point in lying.
"Very well." Voldemort said, after a moment of studying his young servant. "I am suspicious of an Unspeakable named Dennis Bode. Have you met him, Mr. Weasley?"
"I have heard of him, my Lord." Ron lied. He willed himself not to panic. He, Dennis, Bill, and the other Two-Faced were all pretty close. Did Voldemort want him to go and kill Dennis?
That would be a great Christmas present wouldn't it? Hey, Dennis old pal! Merry Christmas! Here, I brought you a fruit basket. Uh-oh, you touched the pineapple, tsk-tsk. You have to die now, because pineapples are Voldie's favorite. Haven't you ever heard? He kills people using Death-By-Pineapples.
Or not.
However, Ron needn't have worried about killing Dennis with pineapples. "To kill him directly would be too obvious." Voldemort hissed. "However, he has a Muggle niece. I want her and anyone in the house killed. We will give him time to take it in, and watch his every move carefully. Then we simply sabotage the funeral. Her house is protected by many spells, which is why Lucius will accompany you. Once you have the go, simply go in and kill them. They are Muggles, not a threat at all."
"Yes, my Lord." Ron muttered. This was definitely not good. Dennis was not going to take this well...he loved his niece like a daughter. "What are their names, my Lord?" Ron asked.
"Does it matter?" Voldemort replied, the beginnings of a smile playing at the corner of his lipless mouth. "They are only Muggles, Mr. Weasley." Ron, Harry Potter's best friend, would've shuddered. But Ron, Assassin for Voldemort, merely nodded, as if this were obvious.
"Of course, my Lord." And with that, he disapparated.
They were on a Muggle street that looked vaguely familiar to Ron. However, all Muggle streets look alike, so why shouldn't this one bring a tinge of déjà vu?
The house was at the corner of the street. Ron watched in disgust as Lucius lifted his wand and started chanting. Ron hated Lucius Malfoy. He hated Lucius perhaps even more than Voldemort himself.
Ron knew what Lucius Malfoy had done to his son.
However, Ron was stuck with him for the moment. He tapped his foot impatiently as Lucius continued to drone on. It was then that Ron realized something.
His fingers were itching to kill something.
That was it. He did have bloodlust. He was actually looking forward to the murder. He had grown so accustomed to killing, that it had actually become a part of him.
NO! Ron would not allow this to happen. However, as he watched Lucius, he found himself struggling not to tell him to go faster. Ron took a deep breath, trying to convince himself it was because of this mode his master put him in. It was something he could control.
Just not on Death Eater duty.
Before Ron could do anything to give away his conflicting thoughts, Lucius managed to finish. "Have fun, Ronald." Malfoy said, raising an eyebrow. Ron withheld the urge to punch him and merely nodded coldly. There was nothing unusual about that, the Death Eaters weren't exactly buddy-buddy.
The couple was asleep. Six months ago, Ron had still felt pity as he muttered the words, but now they had no meaning. They meant something to someone, he knew, the friends and family of those he was killing. But to Ron the words meant a flash of green light and a job well done.
The couple was dead in a matter of seconds. Ron walked downstairs slowly, musing on whom this house would belong to now that its occupants were dead. He went out into the street, and dawdled. Although he couldn't even bring himself to admit it, he wanted more. He wanted to kill again, right now. On accident, his eyes wandered to the street sign. Ron felt his eyes widen.
Privet Drive.
Well, how convenient. The Death Eater inside the red haired young man on the street suddenly burst out. The scared, lonely, desperate young man that was Ronald Weasley flickered, then died. Kill, blood; that was all that was on his mind. And look at this, he was on the street where Harry's cousin lived.
Ron turned and marched up the street to number four. He knew there was no magic here...the only magic anywhere near Privet Drive was Harry Potter. His hand took out the wand, and preformed the unlocking spell.
The shell of Ronald Weasley knew, somehow, which room was Dudley Dursley's. He walked in to see the young, large man snoring. He raised his wand and smiled.
"Avada Kedavra."
The words, again, had no meaning. They came as naturally as did silk from a spider. He watched with pleasure as Dudley's body jolted, and then died. He then turned and headed back outside.
Maybe it was the cold December air. Maybe it was the snow. Maybe it was the Christmas lights on the house next door, but something awoke Ronald Weasley, and pushed out whatever had taken over. He looked down at his wand, suddenly realizing what he had done.
He began to shake. He had stolen another's life for no reason. NO REASON! He had just had the desire to kill.
The desire to kill. Oh my God, I do have bloodlust, Ron realized, horror entering his eyes. Who had he killed? Dudley Dursley, Harry's cousin. Ron knew right then, without ever having to talk to him, that Harry would be upset. Even if they hated each other, the Dursleys were the only family Harry had.
He had just killed off one third of his best friend's family.
Well, that was a bummer! Harry could never know...he would never forgive Ron. Never. Maybe he would say he did, but he wouldn't really. Ron knew his best friend too well to think otherwise.
Not that Harry would ever forgive Ron for being a Death Eater in the first place.
Somehow, through all these frenzied thoughts, Ron remembered to send up the Dark Mark and go to the Ministry. Bill and Dennis were there, playing cards as usual. Ron froze. Dear God, that woman he killed was Dennis's beloved niece! The plan, the first murders! Ron, you idiot!
Guilt, perhaps stronger now than it had ever been, blinded him as he stumbled into the room. Bill leapt up to support him.
"You okay?" He asked. Ron nodded, blinking to help clear his vision. It helped... somewhat. "Rough night?"
"Like you wouldn't believe," Ron muttered. Bill chuckled, and let Ron ease into a chair. Dennis whipped out parchment and quill.
"All right, Ron, what happened?" He asked. Ron stared at him. This was the last time he would ever see Dennis without hatred in his eyes. He just...stared. "Hello, Ronnie...?" Dennis said waving his wand around. Ron blinked and shook his head.
"I killed two people...I don't know their names." Ron said.
"Well then, why did you kill them?" Dennis asked, frowning.
"Because he told me to."
"Why? Why would he tell you to kill someone you don't even know?"
"I do know who they are." Ron countered. "Just not their names."
"Well then, speak man!" Bill roared.
"Ron, don't be afraid. For Merlin's sake, we're not going to burn you at the stake." Dennis said, rolling his eyes.
"Yes you will," Ron muttered under his breath.
"C'mon, Ron, I don't have time for this." Dennis said, starting to get impatient. Ron sighed, rubbing his face with his hand.
"I killed your niece and her husband, Dennis." Ron said, looking away.
Silence.
"What?" The syllable came out as a rasping whisper; the desperate attempt of a man trying to tell himself what he had just heard wasn't true.
"You heard me." Ron said. "Don't make me repeat it."
"Anna?" He whispered, looking away and dropping his quill. "Anna? Why Anna?" His voice was hoarse. Not full of hatred or anger, but simply...shock. Shock and heartbreak.
"Because she is your niece, and Voldemort suspects you of being closely involved in the Light side of the war." Ron said, his guilt going from worse to unbearable as he watched the expression on Dennis's face. "I'm so sorry, Dennis..."
"She was like me daughter." His voice cracked with emotion, and his hands were shaking. "She was everything...and you killed her!" He rounded on Ron, a wild hatred in his eyes. Ron immediately started scooting backward. "You killed her, you bastard, and now I'll kill you!" He lunged at Ron, but Bill grabbed him. "Let me go, you moron, he killed Anna! He killed my niece! I'll rip him apart from limb to limb! I'll-"
"Good God, man!" Bill roared over Dennis's screams. "Settle down! Don't you see he had no choice?"
The gleam faded from Dennis's eyes. He stopped struggling, and sat back down in his seat, looking miserable once again. He looked up at Ron, his eyes now devoid of anything at all.
"I'm sorry, my boy." Dennis said. "I know you didn't have a choice. It's just...why? Why my Anna?"
"The funeral will be attacked." Ron said softly. "Of that I am sure. You cannot go, the whole thing was to set you up."
"He killed her because of me?" Dennis croaked. Bill looked between them sympathetically. He then grabbed his parchment and took down all the notes.
"Anything else?" He asked grimly. Ron opened his mouth to tell them about Dudley. He really did. He had every intention of telling them about what had happened, and begging for their understanding. He opened his mouth to tell them about Dudley, but...
"No, Bill. That's all."
"All right then," Bill said, finishing his writings with a flourish. "Go on home and get some rest, you have a big wedding tomorrow. I'll take care of things with Dennis." He added in an undertone. Ron nodded, turned, and disapparated.
Why hadn't he told them about Dudley? Ron felt miserable as he tumbled into bed, only bothering to take off his winter cloak. He tried to fall asleep, but a voice kept ringing through his mind.
"You killed Anna! You killed my niece! I'll tear him apart from limb to limb..."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Calm down, man!" Ron exclaimed, patting Harry on the back. "Everything will be fine."
"You hope." Harry said. He was not being his usual optimistic self. Ron sighed, he had never figured out this whole 'nervous about the wedding' syndrome. If Harry and Hermione weren't meant to be, then Ron wasn't a Death Eater!
Whoa, never thought he'd be using THAT analogy!
"Breathe in, breathe out," Sirius commanded, massaging Harry's shoulders. Sirius had been cleared the summer before sixth year. He had been Harry's guardian since then.
Ron smiled coldly. The summer before sixth year. That was the same summer he had become a spy/Death Eater/traitor/two-faced/turncoat...the list went on and on and on.
Anyway, Sirius had been cleared once Wormtail had been captured. Ron remembered clearly that day in August, because he had just come home from a particularly grueling Death Eater training session with MacNair. He had not been in the mood to celebrate even though he didn't have much choice. Because, you see, Ron already knew all about Wormtail's capture.
After all, it was Severus who did it.
But enough about Severus's heroic deeds and how much Harry and Sirius were indebted to him (even though they didn't know it). After all, it was Harry's wedding day! Ron had been looking forward to this as much as anyone else, because it would finally give him a chance to chill out and relax and pretend the whole Death Eater thing was a bad dream.
However, there was still the chance that he would be summoned.
That had been damn inconvenient when he was summoned last night! Harry had asked him about it, and Ron had miraculously managed to sidestep the question. Harry was far too nervous to keep pressing him about it. So even though he had been looking forward to it, Ron knew he had to be cautious. There were too many things that could go wrong.
He was glad Rayven would be there.
What? Where had that come from? Yes, he was glad Rayven would be there...for reassurance. To back him up if he did happen to be summoned....right? That's what he was thinking of, right?
Luckily, Ron's thoughts were interrupted when an owl came flying through the window. It dropped an envelope on one of the small tables in the room, then quickly turned and left. Ron picked it up curiously, and read the words 'Mr. Harry Potter'.
"Harry, you got some mail." Ron said.
"Just open and read it to me." Harry said nervously. "I don't think I could even hold it steady right now."
"Calm down, man!" Seamus, the third and final groomsman said. Sirius was massaging Harry's shoulders. Seamus and Harry were both becoming aurors, which is what lead Harry to make him a groomsman in the first place.
Ron shrugged and opened the letter. He opened it, and immediately began reading.
"Dear Mr. Potter,
We regret to inform you...."
Ron stopped abruptly, his eyes as wide as saucers. Holy shit, this was the kind of letter everyone didn't want to get. But that wasn't why Ron's eyes were wide and his hands were trembling.
"We regret to inform me of what?" Harry asked forcefully. He gulped and looked at Ron, who had gone pasty. Those words, Harry knew, meant someone had died. They always did. There had been a few of those for students whose parents had been victims of the Dark Lord.
Ron looked up at Harry, but was unable to keep eye contact. He swallowed, then read the letter in the monotonous, emotionless voice he had developed from being a Death Eater.
"Dear Mr. Potter,
We regret to inform you that your cousin, Dudley Dursley, was found dead in his home at number four, Privet Drive, under the Dark Mark. The cause of death was the killing curse, used at approximately 1:43 this morning. We send our sympathy.
Cornelius Fudge,
Minister of Magic."
Ron then folded the letter and slipped it back inside its envelope. He chanced a glance at Harry, but had to look away. Harry's eyes were wide, and his face was blank. Damn it, he had said he hated Dudley! Why the hell did he have that look, just to torture Ron?
But Ron knew it was entirely his fault. He had killed Dudley. For no real reason other than the fact that he wanted to kill someone. Why the hell had he done it?
"I...Dudley's dead?" Harry asked, sounding somewhat dazed. "But...but he never did anything. He was just a Muggle. They killed him because of me. They killed him because he's MY cousin..." Harry's voice was distant. Ron cringed. This was all his fault, he had ruined Harry's wedding.
"I'll just go tell the priest that we'll be a few minutes late, shall I?" Ron asked, anxious to leave this confined space. He suddenly felt very claustrophobic.
"No, no, I'll be fine. After all, it's just Dudley, right?" Harry asked, trying to force a smile. Sirius nodded behind Harry, and Ron turned and took off as fast as he could. He told the priest, then the all the people waiting patiently for the wedding to commence. (Including, Ron noted with disgust, Rita Skeeter.) He then proceeded to go tell Hermione and the other girls.
When Ron knocked, it was Ginny who answered the door. She was dressed in a light golden dress, with just enough frilly things to make it look like it belonged in a wedding. Ron wasn't one to think it, but other men his age would've described her as beautiful, especially with that cute little look of annoyance flitting across her face.
"What the hell do you want?" She snapped. Well, so much for cute.
"What's your problem?" Ron asked, somewhat taken aback by his baby sister's choice of words. Her face relaxed.
"I'm sorry Ron, it's just that I've got a really bad feeling about something." She muttered. Ron raised an eyebrow. "It's like...oh, I don't know! Not the wedding of course, Harry and Hermione are perfect for each other, it's just that-"
"The wedding's being postponed for about ten minutes," Ron said. Ginny looked up in surprise.
"What?" She demanded.
"Confirm your suspicions, Gin," Ron said grimly. "Harry's cousin was killed last night."
"Oh my..." Ginny's eyes widened, and her hand flew to her heart. "Was it...?"
"Voldemort?" Ron asked, and watched his sister flinch. For some reason, Ron was no longer afraid of the name. It didn't really make much sense, as the only people who had more to fear from the Dark Lord than those against him were his followers. "Yes, Ginny. Death Eaters. The Dark Mark was in the sky and everything."
"I'll tell Hermione." Ginny whispered, gently shutting the door.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Harry was nervous. Incredibly nervous, and grieving at the same time. Not a good combination. However, you wouldn't know this last bit if you hadn't been told, he looked just like every other nervous groom. Sirius said he looked so much like his father it was frightening. Remus had to agree.
He jumped slightly as the familiar tune started up, and knew the wedding procession was making its way toward him. He heard the crowd 'ooo' and 'ahh', and could only assume that Hermione had approached. Harry started to turn, wanting to see her. In his opinion, Hermione was always beautiful, but just thinking of her in a wedding dress made him itch to see it.
Ron held him back, staring at Hermione himself. So this is why Harry fell in love with her! The dress was perfect, and she was blushing slightly. But that wasn't what made her look the way she did. She was glowing, absolutely glowing. Ron could see all her inner beauty shining through her hopeful eyes, radiating off her in tangible waves. And suddenly Ron knew what he wanted more than anything in the world.
He wanted someone to look at him like that.
It was clear that nothing could make Hermione happier than marrying Harry. She loved him. It was as clear as the freckles on Ron's face. She was so in love with him she really didn't know anything else that was going on. Ron wondered what it felt like to be in love.
His eyes traveled to Rayven.
What are you doing? He demanded of himself. Damn it, Ron, she doesn't love you, and she never will. She knows who you really are. She knows WHAT you really are. No one could love you.
And that is what he really believed. The problem was, although he was pretty good at convincing himself Rayven didn't love him, he somehow couldn't even try to tell himself he didn't love her. But it was like a sister, right? Oh, who the hell was he kidding? He loved her; that much was certain. Damn it!
Meanwhile, Hermione had reached Harry. Harry's breath left him when he saw Hermione's face. God, she was beautiful. All doubts left him as he took her hands. Mrs. Hermione Potter. Yeah, he liked the sound of that. He like the sound of that a lot.
The wedding flew by with Hermione and Harry wrapped up only in each other. When the priest said 'Kiss the Bride', the crowd was not prepared for it. Yes, Ron thought jealously, they were in love. True love, pure love, the kind of love a Death Eater can never have.
However, Ron's dark mood subsided as they went forward to the reception. Rayven sat next to him at the head table for dinner, along with the happy newlyweds, Sirius, Remus, Seamus, Hermione's parents, and Ginny. There were people of all shapes and sizes, all having a fabulous time. Bells rang constantly, demanding Harry and Hermione Potter to kiss. Not that they minded or anything. Hermione Potter...Ron tossed the words inside of his mind. They fit together, he thought with a smile. They were meant to be.
Ron watched as Harry and Hermione stood for their first dance, which Harry had been dreading. He still didn't dance well, but he looked so happy that no one noticed. The song was one Ron had never heard before, but he couldn't think of anything more appropriate.
"Did you ever know that you're my hero?
You're everything I wish I could be
And I can fly higher than an eagle
'Cause you are the wind beneath my wings"
Harry whispered in Hermione's ear, and Ron could see her blushing. They were so perfect together....so perfect. Ron, after all these years, still found it hard to believe. Yet there they were, fitting together just like a married couple should.
Married. Well, there's a word Ron was going to have to get used to. His two best friends were married, and to each other no less! Yes, this was going to take some time. Yet seeing them in love was nothing new, Ron had been watching it since he was eleven.
Soon the song was ending, and another starting. Now, Ron realized, the wedding party had to dance. No big deal, he was only dancing with his sister.
Yes, Ginny did look beautiful, even Ron couldn't deny it. He told her so, and she blushed.
"Not that your opinion means much," She teased. Ron rolled his eyes.
"Thanks Ginny, love you too." He said. "Anyway, what's my favorite little sister been up to lately?"
"I'm your only little sister." Ginny pointed out.
"So?"
"Yeah, good point." She sighed, letting her brother twirl her around. "Ron, I've been thinking about what to do after I graduate."
"And you're talking to me?" Ron joked. "I don't have a steady job, remember?"
"Yes, well..." She seemed to be on the verge of stuttering. "Ron, I want to...er..."
"To what?" Ron asked, frowning. She was worrying him.
"Work at the Ministry," She finished lamely. Ron's frowned deepened.
"That's not what you were going to say, is it?" He demanded.
"Well..." Ginny bit her lip, and allowed herself to be twirled once more, more to procrastinate than anything else. "Um, see, I...I want to be an Unspeakable." She squeaked. And for good reason. Ron's blue eyes flared.
"Ginny, don't be ridiculous." He hissed. "That is far too dangerous. Do you know how many Unspeakables die each year? Too damn many!"
"I knew you would get hysterical." Ginny sighed. "Look, it's just a thought. Nothing's in stone."
"Don't let it get in stone, Ginny. Always leave yourself a way out." Ron said wisely. 'Because I didn't' he thought bitterly. There was no way out of the Circle. You could never turn back.
"Yes, well, if not...I'm still going to be an auror." She said stubbornly. Ron sighed, stopping his steps as the dance ended.
"There's nothing I can do to stop you Ginny." Ron smiled, leading her back to the table. "You're too damn stubborn."
"Thanks," She said sarcastically, but smiled anyway. He handed her to Seamus, who politely asked for the next dance, and sat down next to Rayven. It didn't take them long to get into a conversation. In next to no time it Harry and Hermione were cutting the cake.
Hermione smashed her piece all over Harry's face. However, it seemed that he couldn't do the same. When Harry raised his cake to try and get his revenge it seemed to be repelled by Hermione.
"That's cheating!" Harry objected. "You used magic!"
"So?" She laughed.
"Well, that spell doesn't save your hair!" He cried.
"Okay, okay!" She cried, taking the spell off. Harry fed her the cake gently, only getting some frosting on the tip of her nose. Then, Ron stood for his best man speech.
"Harry and Hermione...what can I say about them?" Ron asked, raising his glass. "They have been my best friends for over eight years. They deserve no one but each other. Except that I don't know if Herm can put up with Harry's snoring." There was laughter from the crowd. "No, really, I was in his dorm, he snores!" Ron insisted, but he was grinning. "Well, I'm still trying to swallow the whole 'Hermione Potter' thing, but I know that they're in love, and I'm sure you all do too. Here's to Harry and Hermione Potter!" He lifted his drink and gulped it down through applause and clinging glasses.
The music started up again, and everyone was dancing. Ron watched quietly. He was aware of Rayven just a few seats down, but his eyes were traveling the dancers. God, how he wanted to be one of them, any one of them. One of those carefree, innocent, loving people. Not the murderer he was.
Harry and Hermione came back up to the high table for a drink, giggling and high on life. Ron watched them, torn between jealously and joy. They, however, did not seem to notice his odd mood.
"You going to sit there all night like a bump on a log?" Harry asked, grinning. Ron shrugged.
"Aw c'mon, go dance!" Hermione said.
"With whom, may I ask?" Ron said. Hermione looked down at Rayven and winked.
"Why with Miss Michaels, of course!" She said. Before either Ron or Rayven could object, the Potters had lifted them out of their seats and basically thrown them out to the dance floor.
"Might as well humor them." Ron sighed. "It's their wedding, after all."
"Yeah," Rayven replied. The song was fast and very upbeat. It wasn't until they were dancing that Ron realized how beautiful she looked.
Her dress was skin-tight until her waist, where it fell naturally to her ankles. It was creamy in color, and stopped at her collarbones, with no straps or sleeves to hold it there. Her auburn hair was swept up into a French twist, with a lonely stray tendril gracing her face.
"I can't dance!" She said, half shouting over the music, but laughing at the same time.
"Neither can I," Ron assured her. "But let's have a go at it anyway." And so they did, for about three songs straight. Rayven laughed as she and Ron tried desperately not to step on each other. Ron was having a fabulous time despite himself. Then, a slow song started in.
Before Ron knew what was happening he had Rayven in his arms. His breathing was becoming irregular. They hadn't been this close since that morning at the park...Ron tried to take his mind of the beautiful girl he was holding and focus on the music. The song wasn't as beautiful as she was, but it was pretty.
"Wherever you go, whatever you do
I will be right here waiting for you
Whatever you say, or how my heart breaks
I will be right here waiting for you"
Rayven pulled away from Ron slightly and he looked down at her. There eyes met, sapphire and gold. And in that moment of eternity, the music and reception and all of reality slipped away, and there was only her eyes. It was all so perfect, so right...
And he kissed her.
Ron felt something surge through his veins as he kissed her, trying to pour all his emotions into this one kiss. He found her kissing him back with equal force, both knowing this was impossible and neither caring. He felt her arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer, and Ron knew he never wanted to let her go.
"Harry," Hermione whispered, nudging her husband.
"Hmm?" He asked, smiling at her.
"Look," She whispered, pointing at Ron and Rayven, who were kissing passionately. Harry looked and lifted an eyebrow. He exchanged looks with his wife, and both turned back to the kissing couple with knowing smiles. There was no doubt about it.
Ronald Weasley and Rayven Michaels were desperately in love.
Okay, well, this chapter is the last chapter with Nickleback. If anyone can guess the next lyrics, major kudos to you! (Sierra, Star*dust, and other Hoosier peeps: you don't count) There are also lyrics in this chapter from the songs 'Wind Beneath my Wings' and 'Right Here Waiting for You'. Don't own them either.
Okay, onward!
Chapter Three:
The Potters
~It's not like you didn't know that
I said I love you and I swear I still do
And it must have been so bad
Cause livin' with me must have damn near killed you
And this is how you remind me of what I really am~
*Nickleback's "How You Remind Me"
"Thirsty?"
"Parched," Ron replied. He took the proffered lemonade from Hermione, and Harry did the same.
"God, you guys act like you've never been shopping before," Hermione said, rolling her eyes at her two male companions.
"It's not the shopping," Harry explained. "It's shopping with you."
"Oh thanks, Harry, love you too!" She snapped, but smiled anyway. Ron hid his glare behind the lemonade. They really didn't know how blessed they were to love and be loved.
The three had finally done something together...the first they had done since school let out. Of course, they had had dinner back in July, but Ginny had been there. Hanging out with just Harry and Hermione had reminded him of the good old days.
The "Good Old Days". That sounded like a corny Muggle sitcom with really fake acting and sappy themes.
Well, the date for the wedding had been set: December 22, the Saturday after the last day of term for Hogwarts students. The threesome had been shopping for Harry's tux and, consequently, whatever Ron was going to wear as best man.
As Harry and Hermione were playfully fighting, Ron's eyes wandered absently around the living room of their flat. They landed on the quaint little clock on the mantle above the makeshift fireplace. He lazily gazed at it, but then suddenly sat straight up.
"What?" Harry and Hermione asked in unison.
"I've gotta go," Ron said, reaching for his cloak.
"Where?" Harry asked suspiciously. Ron smiled to himself while the other two couldn't see. Harry had been very curious about the going-ons of Ron's life since the incident in Diagon Alley. Obviously after he had left Draco showed up, and Harry had been rather jealous that Malfoy knew more about his best friend's life than he did.
Well, it was Harry's own fault. Draco and Ron spent all kinds of time together, along with the girls. Then again, Ron would realize when this thought crossed his mind, those three would understand if he just had to get up and leave like he had in Diagon Alley, while Harry would just get suspicious. No, it was better this way.
"I'm supposed to meet Rayven for dinner in three minutes." Ron answered with complete honesty. Well, almost complete honesty. He was also meeting Draco and Angel, but he wasn't about to tell them that...he got the feeling they would not be amused.
"I thought you didn't have to be there until seven," Hermione frowned. Ron sighed; all this interrogation was really quite a hindrance.
"Hermione, look at the time," Ron said, shaking his head. She did so, and gasped.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She cried. "I didn't mean to keep you!"
"It's fine," Ron replied, grinning at her. "I like being fashionably late. See you!" And with a wave he disapparated.
"I don't like it," Harry muttered.
"Hmm?" Hermione replied, looking up from the lemonade she had returned to.
"I don't like it. I don't like not knowing what's going on with him."
"Oh, Harry, he's a big boy now," Hermione rolled her eyes.
"It's not that, it's just..."
"What, do you think he's a Death Eater or something?" Hermione replied with a devilish grin.
"No! Of course not!" Harry replied in horror, his eyes widening. "Ron would never!"
"Exactly, so just calm down." Harry obeyed.
"So, where do you want to eat?" He asked.
"Where? Are you taking me out, Mr. Potter?" Hermione asked, grinning.
"Well, unless you want to cook..."
"Hell no!"
"Watch the profanity, Granger." Harry teased.
"Let's go to Le Tour Eiffel," She said jokingly.
"Do you want to?"
"Harry that place is ridiculously expensive." Hermione said, aghast.
"No place is too good for my girl." Harry said, offering his arm.
"Harry-"
"No, 'Mione, my treat."
"If you insist," Hermione sighed. Then she dropped the I'm-only-going-because-you-want-to and giggled childishly. "Let me go get dressed!" She sped upstairs, leaving Harry rather confused about the odd habits of women.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Where's Draco?" Rayven asked her friend, frowning.
"Business," Angel said in a final tone, which Rayven didn't question. "And Ron?"
"Um..."
"Hey!" They whipped around to see Ron, who was dusting his cloak.
"All righty then," Angel said, rubbing her hands together mischievously. "Where are we going again?"
"Le Tour Eiffel," Rayven replied promptly. "We're apparating to that little park outside the Ministry building, and hailing a cab."
"Sounds good to me." Ron replied. They disappeared, and then appeared again a park, and then (after much trial and error) got their cab. It dropped them off right in front of a rather expensive French restaurant. They went inside, and (by some miracle) only waited 10 minutes for their table. The three were very aware of the missing quarter of their little group.
"What IS this stuff?" Angel demanded, frowning at the menu, which consisted entirely of French dishes.
"Like I know. Poulet a l'orange?" Ron said, making a face. Rayven sniggered at his terrible pronunciation.
"Hey everyone, sorry to keep you waiting...not that you waited, I see," Draco said, sounding amused as he surveyed the three diners trying desperately to make sense of the French.
"Draco, do you know what 'Gat-oo oo from-age a la chocolate' means?" Angel asked.
"First of all, it's 'Gateau au fromage a la chocolat'. Draco said, speaking the language fluently, and snickering at the other three as he took his seat. "And it means chocolate cheesecake."
"Oh," Angel replied, blushing. Draco rolled his eyes.
"I suppose I'm going to have to tell you all what's edible and what's not?" Draco mused.
"Only if you want to keep your head where it is," Rayven replied sweetly.
"As you wish!" He cried dramatically, and proceeded to explain the menu. The waiter came by, and they all ordered, praying the Draco had been honest. You could never tell with the Malfoy smirk.
None of them noticed the handsome, dark-haired man and the beautiful brunette being lead to a table not far away by the maitre'd.
"This is delicious!" Rayven cried after one bite of her dinner. "Er...what is it again?"
"Spinach quiche," Draco replied, rolling his eyes.
"Right, right, I knew that." She blushed.
"Um, Rayven?" Angel said, looking up from her plate.
"Huh?" The other girl replied in between bites.
"Will you come to the bathroom with me?"
"Of course." The girls collected their purses and went off chattering. Draco and Ron exchanged looks.
"Women," Ron muttered, not for the first time since meeting Angel and Rayven.
"Why do they have to go to the bathroom in pairs?" Draco asked, making a face.
"There are some questions with no answers, Draco."
There was an awkward pause. Suddenly, it was brought into a painfully bright light that Ron and Draco were supposed to be enemies. They were supposed to hate each other, carrying on the generations of hatred. But, Ron suddenly realized, he could no longer hate Draco if he tried.
"Weasley, I think there's something you should know." Draco said. Ron raised an eyebrow.
"Yes?"
"You are the strangest person I know. You had this tight-knit family, and tight-knit friends, and basically a career as an auror laid at your feet. And you threw it all away for this. Only a Gryffindor would do something so stupid. And..." Draco looked rather embarrassed. "Only a Gryffindor would do something so brave."
Ron raised the other eyebrow. "Was that a compliment, Malfoy?"
"Of course not!" Draco exclaimed in mock horror. "I don't want to ruin my reputation!" The two boys laughed. Not the timid, awkward schoolgirl giggles or the cynical, cold Death Eater chuckles Ron had grown so accustomed to. It was the loud, hardy guffaws of two men having a good time. Something Ron had never shared with anyone outside his brothers and Harry...and Draco had never shared with anyone.
"Who is laughing so loud?" The black-haired man asked. The brunette frowned.
"It is rather annoying," Hermione muttered.
"Tell me about it." Harry rolled his eyes. Hermione was searching the place curiously. "Hermione, stop it. You look like my Aunt Petunia when you do that." He shuddered.
"I'm just curious, and besides-" She gasped. "Oh my God! Harry, look to the left. No, I mean your right, my left. Wait, not yet they'll see us!"
"Hermione, what in the hell are you talking about?" Harry demanded, starting to feel his temper rise.
"Wait, he'll see you! Oh my GOD!" Hermione was sounding frantic and shocked at the same time.
"What is going on?" He demanded.
"Okay, they're sitting almost right behind us, a little to your right..." She was muttering.
"WHO?!" Harry snapped.
"You'd never believe me, you'll have to look for yourself." Hermione said. "Wait, not yet!" But it was too late. Just to make Hermione mad more than anything else, Harry had very obviously turned his body so he could see the tables behind him. His eyes immediately caught what Hermione had been talking about.
Ron and Malfoy, sitting next to each other. Sitting next to each other and LAUGHING. As Harry watched, Malfoy poured them both a second glass of champagne. He quickly turned back around, fuming.
"What the Hell?" He muttered, as Hermione bit her lip and watched them from around her wine glass. "I thought he was going to dinner with Rayven, not Malfoy!" Harry hissed.
"What is going on...I thought he hated Malfoy." Hermione said.
"He does!" Harry snapped.
"He did." She corrected. "Obviously, something happened that we didn't know about."
"Well, what in the-" He suddenly stopped short.
"What?" She asked, now as annoyed as he had been just a few moments earlier.
"Look who's coming out of the girl's bathroom," Harry muttered. Hermione spun around (but much more inconspicuously than Harry had) to see two girls approaching them. One had short, curly, lighter brown hair. The other had longer, straight hair, which was almost auburn in color. Hermione immediately recognized the second as Rayven Michaels.
The two girls didn't seem to notice Harry and Hermione's eyes on them as they passed their table. They were giggling and talking, wrapped up in their own little world. Harry felt his eyes bulge as they took the two empty seats at Ron and Draco's table.
"This just keeps getting weirder and weirder..." He muttered.
"Tell me about it," Hermione replied. Meanwhile, Ron and Draco were demanding to know why the girls had been gone so long.
"Do you really want me to answer that question?" Angel asked. The two boys exchanged looks.
"No." They replied in unison.
"That's what we thought!" Rayven said. She went back to her food. "Hmm...needs salt." She muttered. "Where's the salt?" The other three all looked at each other questioningly. "We don't have any salt?" Rayven wailed. "Well, I suppose I'll just...there! There's an empty table with a salt shaker, I'll just go steal theirs."
"Have fun," Draco muttered, as if it were going to be the worst experience of her life. Rayven rolled her eyes and stood to go retrieve her salt. How convenient...the table she wanted was right next to Harry and Hermione's.
"Rayven!" Hermione said as the other girl went past.
"Hermione!" Rayven exclaimed. "And Harry too! Gracious, what are you guys doing here?"
"Eating, obviously." Harry said, gesturing to his food. Rayven rolled her eyes.
"Thank you, Mr. Stating-The-Obvious." She replied.
"So Rayven, who are you here with?" Hermione asked quickly, flashing her most charming smile.
"Ron, Draco, and Angel." Rayven replied. "I don't think you've met Angel. Maybe you should come over and meet her..."
"No, that's quite alright," Hermione said. "Don't want to bother you or anything." Rayven gave her a quizzical look.
"It would be no bother, I assure you-"
"Yes it would." She said firmly. Rayven suddenly remember the glares exchanged between Harry and Draco in Diagon Alley, and decided Hermione was probably right. "Anyway, I have a question for you." Hermione continued.
"Yes?" The other girl asked.
"Well...it's about Ron and Ma-Draco." Hermione said sweetly. "Would you consider them...friends?" She forced the last word out. Harry stared at Rayven intently.
"Friends? Heavens no!" Rayven said, laughing. Harry and Hermione let out identical breaths of relief. But Rayven, being Rayven, had to open her big mouth and go on. "More like brothers." Harry blanched, and Hermione froze.
"R...really?" Hermione said, struggling to maintain control of her voice. "What makes you say that?"
"Oh, the way they always fight like siblings, but are really close underneath." Rayven said, completely oblivious to their reactions. "You wouldn't even know how close they were if you didn't know them like I do. They act like enemies, but really, they're like this." She crossed her first two fingers. She opened her mouth to say more, but then she seemed to take notice of her gesture.
Rayven smiled, but it was not the same happy-go-lucky smile Hermione had seen just moments earlier. Her face was stone cold, and her smile was more like a sneer. She seemed to find more in those crossed fingers than she had first implied. "How ironic..." She muttered. Then, she snapped out of it. "Anyway, I just came for some salt," She said, trying to get back the happy person she had been a few minutes ago. It didn't work. She snatched the salt a little too quickly. "Uh...tootles!" And with that, she fled.
"What took you so long?" Angel demanded as Rayven sat down, looking rather flustered.
"I ran into some people I knew." Rayven muttered.
"Who?" Draco demanded.
"Harry Potter and Hermione Granger." She replied, with a sidelong glance at Ron. His sharp blue eyes immediately caught their table. He cursed under his breath.
The wedding was going to be interesting, to say the least...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"We're going to be late!"
"Hold your horses!"
"What are you doing in there anyway?"
"Just adding some final touches to my hair."
"Oh my God..." Ron muttered, turning around and flopping onto the couch. He looked at his watch. Yep, they were going to be late. It was December 21, and the Rehearsal Dinner was due to start in thirty seconds, but Rayven still hadn't come out of her room. Women. He rolled his eyes.
"Well, how do I look?" A feminine voice asked. Ron leapt up and spun around. He was already to say 'fine, let's go', but he couldn't. He could only stare.
Rayven was beautiful, in simple terms. The dress was baby blue, reaching the floor and held up by spaghetti straps. Her deep brown hair was curled, and held back by butterfly pins. It occurred to Ron that he had never seen her in a dress before.
"You look...great." He muttered. Even though the words did her no justice, she could see the praise in his eyes and blushed.
"Thanks," She whispered. There was a moment of awkward silence, and Rayven was transported back to the sunrise when they had almost kissed. What if they had actually...
"We'd better go." Ron said suddenly, interrupting her thoughts. He held out his arm, which she took. In that moment before they apparated, anyone who had seen them would've said they looked like the perfect couple.
But no one saw them.
"There you are!" Hermione said, smiling at Rayven and Ron. Somehow, Ron had smoothed over the whole incident at 'Le Tour Eiffel', although he would never know how. In his opinion, his two best friends just wanted to believe he wasn't friends with Draco, so they did.
"Hermione, you look beautiful!" Rayven squealed. Hermione's creamy dress was simple compared to the one she would be wearing tomorrow.
"So do you." Hermione smiled. "Come, come." She led them into the dining room, taking her place on Harry' left and Ginny's right. The two seats to Harry's right were open for them. Everyone was looking at Ron expectantly, waiting for an introduction. He felt his ears redden...he hated speeches.
"Um, everyone, this is Rayven, a friend of mine," Ron said, gesturing to the girl next to him. She smiled charmingly. "Rayven this is-"
"No, allow me," Rayven interrupted, winking at Ron. She pointed to Mr. Weasley. "Arthur Weasley, your dad; Molly Weasley, your mum; Bill Weasley; your eldest brother, who works at Gringotts; Charlie Weasley, your second brother, who works with dragons; Percy Weasley, who works at the Ministry, another brother; then George and Fred, twin brothers who run the joke shop; then Harry and Hermione, the happy newlyweds-to-be; Ginny Weasley, you little sister, still in her final year at Hogwarts; Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, who was cleared two summers ago; then Neville, Seamus, and Dean, who shared a dorm with you and Harry back at school; a couple of aurors you don't know anyway; Albus Dumbledore, who...well, EVERYONE knows Dumbledore, and that's about it!" She finished this with a huge smile. Everyone stared.
"No, you're wrong." Ron said. "You're so wrong." He pointed at his twin brothers. "That's Fred and that's George."
"No, I assure you Ron, that's George, then Fred."
"They're my brothers, Rayven, I think I know which one's which."
"I'm telling you, it's George and Fred."
"No, it's Fred and George!"
"Ron look," Rayven said, pointing at the twins in question. "George's right ear is slightly higher than his left. Fred's are even."
"What are you talking about?" Ron demanded. "Okay, you two, which one's which?" He said, rounding on the twins.
"I'm George." The twin next to Percy said sheepishly. Ron turned in amazement to Rayven.
"Told you so!" She declared, skipping happily to her seat next to Fred. Ron, muttering under his breath, took his seat between Rayven and Harry.
"Okay, um...let there be food!" Harry declared, and food there was. Immediately, talk broke out, mixing pleasantly with the clatter of forks and knives. Rayven fit right in, much to Ron's relief. She could be very charming when she wanted to be. At the moment, she was in a debate with Percy about British involvement of Death Eater activity abroad. Right up their alley.
The meal continued pleasantly. And as the main dish threatened to give way to desert, Ron and Harry found themselves inevitably discussing Quidditch. Meanwhile, Rayven was trying to talk to Hermione and Ginny around the boys. As the pie came out, Harry and Rayven gave up and switched seats.
Ron was happy to be talking to his best friend again, there was no doubt about it. However, there was always a 'but' involved in any happiness in Ron's life these days, and today it was that there was something bothering Harry. He was hiding it rather well, and at first Ron thought he was imagining it. But as the meal went on, Ron knew something was up.
"Harry." Ron said very seriously, interrupting his friend's long spiel on Wronski feints.
"Hmm?" The other replied.
"What's up?"
"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, even though he already knew.
"There's something going on. Fess up." Ron commanded. Harry looked around nervously, and Ron rolled his eyes. It was like they were back in school talking about mindless gossip all over again.
"Ron, I got a wedding invitation today." Harry whispered, hardly audible. No one but Ron could here.
"And this is a bad thing?" Ron asked, confused.
"Yes. It was from my cousin, Dudley." He continued, sounding very serious.
"So your cousin's getting married." Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Big deal."
"There was a letter enclosed," Harry continued, as if he had never been interrupted. "I am not invited to the wedding at all. He sent the invitation because his bride-to-be made him. It was a rather nasty letter."
"Harry, it's just Dudley." Ron said, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. As much as Harry hated the Dursleys, they were his only family. Harry sighed.
"I know, but still...I just don't understand why they hate me so much!"
"Well, you didn't invite Dudley to your wedding." Ron pointed out.
"Yes I did." Harry countered bitterly.
"Well...just don't let it get to you, mate." Ron said, trying to smile and go back to his pie. Why did people like that stupid cousin of Harry's have it so good, while Harry's life was, while in the eyes of an onlooker enviable, in reality hellish? Sure, Ron had envied Harry at a younger age, but that was before becoming a Death Eater. Even Harry didn't even know half the horrible schemes on his life, because the Circle of the Two-Faced would stop it before it ever got that far.
"So, about the Cannons..." Harry said enthusiastically, trying to change the subject. Ron obliged, and desert continued happily. Soon, people were starting to file out.
"Well, I guess we should clean up." Hermione muttered.
"I'll help." Rayven volunteered, and Ginny also stayed along.
"Are you staying, Ron?" Harry asked, grinning at his friend. "You're not going to leave me here with the girls, are you?"
"Of course I'll stay." Ron said happily.
Famous last words.
At that moment, the familiar agony seized his left arm, and he had to grab a chair to steady himself. He was never ready for the summons. No one was.
"On second thought, maybe I should go home." Ron said through clenched teeth, trying to sound natural. "I don't want to be a bother."
"Bother?" Hermione snorted. "We want you to clean, duh."
"Well, I'm really bad at cleaning." Ron said. Dear Lord, he could swear that it was worse than it had ever been before.
"I don't think-"
"See you tomorrow!" Ron said, waving and disapparating before Hermione could finish her sentence.
The Dark Lord was outside, waiting for him. At his side, in the trademark black robes but without the mask, was Lucius. Ron sighed with relief, the pain leaving him. Then, his curiosity kicked in. What was Lucius, of all people doing here?
"I was beginning to get impatient." Voldemort hissed.
"My apologies, my Lord." Ron muttered, bowing. "I had to make excuses."
"To Potter?" The Dark Lord asked, amusement flitting across his features.
"Yes, my Lord." Ron said. There was really no point in lying.
"Very well." Voldemort said, after a moment of studying his young servant. "I am suspicious of an Unspeakable named Dennis Bode. Have you met him, Mr. Weasley?"
"I have heard of him, my Lord." Ron lied. He willed himself not to panic. He, Dennis, Bill, and the other Two-Faced were all pretty close. Did Voldemort want him to go and kill Dennis?
That would be a great Christmas present wouldn't it? Hey, Dennis old pal! Merry Christmas! Here, I brought you a fruit basket. Uh-oh, you touched the pineapple, tsk-tsk. You have to die now, because pineapples are Voldie's favorite. Haven't you ever heard? He kills people using Death-By-Pineapples.
Or not.
However, Ron needn't have worried about killing Dennis with pineapples. "To kill him directly would be too obvious." Voldemort hissed. "However, he has a Muggle niece. I want her and anyone in the house killed. We will give him time to take it in, and watch his every move carefully. Then we simply sabotage the funeral. Her house is protected by many spells, which is why Lucius will accompany you. Once you have the go, simply go in and kill them. They are Muggles, not a threat at all."
"Yes, my Lord." Ron muttered. This was definitely not good. Dennis was not going to take this well...he loved his niece like a daughter. "What are their names, my Lord?" Ron asked.
"Does it matter?" Voldemort replied, the beginnings of a smile playing at the corner of his lipless mouth. "They are only Muggles, Mr. Weasley." Ron, Harry Potter's best friend, would've shuddered. But Ron, Assassin for Voldemort, merely nodded, as if this were obvious.
"Of course, my Lord." And with that, he disapparated.
They were on a Muggle street that looked vaguely familiar to Ron. However, all Muggle streets look alike, so why shouldn't this one bring a tinge of déjà vu?
The house was at the corner of the street. Ron watched in disgust as Lucius lifted his wand and started chanting. Ron hated Lucius Malfoy. He hated Lucius perhaps even more than Voldemort himself.
Ron knew what Lucius Malfoy had done to his son.
However, Ron was stuck with him for the moment. He tapped his foot impatiently as Lucius continued to drone on. It was then that Ron realized something.
His fingers were itching to kill something.
That was it. He did have bloodlust. He was actually looking forward to the murder. He had grown so accustomed to killing, that it had actually become a part of him.
NO! Ron would not allow this to happen. However, as he watched Lucius, he found himself struggling not to tell him to go faster. Ron took a deep breath, trying to convince himself it was because of this mode his master put him in. It was something he could control.
Just not on Death Eater duty.
Before Ron could do anything to give away his conflicting thoughts, Lucius managed to finish. "Have fun, Ronald." Malfoy said, raising an eyebrow. Ron withheld the urge to punch him and merely nodded coldly. There was nothing unusual about that, the Death Eaters weren't exactly buddy-buddy.
The couple was asleep. Six months ago, Ron had still felt pity as he muttered the words, but now they had no meaning. They meant something to someone, he knew, the friends and family of those he was killing. But to Ron the words meant a flash of green light and a job well done.
The couple was dead in a matter of seconds. Ron walked downstairs slowly, musing on whom this house would belong to now that its occupants were dead. He went out into the street, and dawdled. Although he couldn't even bring himself to admit it, he wanted more. He wanted to kill again, right now. On accident, his eyes wandered to the street sign. Ron felt his eyes widen.
Privet Drive.
Well, how convenient. The Death Eater inside the red haired young man on the street suddenly burst out. The scared, lonely, desperate young man that was Ronald Weasley flickered, then died. Kill, blood; that was all that was on his mind. And look at this, he was on the street where Harry's cousin lived.
Ron turned and marched up the street to number four. He knew there was no magic here...the only magic anywhere near Privet Drive was Harry Potter. His hand took out the wand, and preformed the unlocking spell.
The shell of Ronald Weasley knew, somehow, which room was Dudley Dursley's. He walked in to see the young, large man snoring. He raised his wand and smiled.
"Avada Kedavra."
The words, again, had no meaning. They came as naturally as did silk from a spider. He watched with pleasure as Dudley's body jolted, and then died. He then turned and headed back outside.
Maybe it was the cold December air. Maybe it was the snow. Maybe it was the Christmas lights on the house next door, but something awoke Ronald Weasley, and pushed out whatever had taken over. He looked down at his wand, suddenly realizing what he had done.
He began to shake. He had stolen another's life for no reason. NO REASON! He had just had the desire to kill.
The desire to kill. Oh my God, I do have bloodlust, Ron realized, horror entering his eyes. Who had he killed? Dudley Dursley, Harry's cousin. Ron knew right then, without ever having to talk to him, that Harry would be upset. Even if they hated each other, the Dursleys were the only family Harry had.
He had just killed off one third of his best friend's family.
Well, that was a bummer! Harry could never know...he would never forgive Ron. Never. Maybe he would say he did, but he wouldn't really. Ron knew his best friend too well to think otherwise.
Not that Harry would ever forgive Ron for being a Death Eater in the first place.
Somehow, through all these frenzied thoughts, Ron remembered to send up the Dark Mark and go to the Ministry. Bill and Dennis were there, playing cards as usual. Ron froze. Dear God, that woman he killed was Dennis's beloved niece! The plan, the first murders! Ron, you idiot!
Guilt, perhaps stronger now than it had ever been, blinded him as he stumbled into the room. Bill leapt up to support him.
"You okay?" He asked. Ron nodded, blinking to help clear his vision. It helped... somewhat. "Rough night?"
"Like you wouldn't believe," Ron muttered. Bill chuckled, and let Ron ease into a chair. Dennis whipped out parchment and quill.
"All right, Ron, what happened?" He asked. Ron stared at him. This was the last time he would ever see Dennis without hatred in his eyes. He just...stared. "Hello, Ronnie...?" Dennis said waving his wand around. Ron blinked and shook his head.
"I killed two people...I don't know their names." Ron said.
"Well then, why did you kill them?" Dennis asked, frowning.
"Because he told me to."
"Why? Why would he tell you to kill someone you don't even know?"
"I do know who they are." Ron countered. "Just not their names."
"Well then, speak man!" Bill roared.
"Ron, don't be afraid. For Merlin's sake, we're not going to burn you at the stake." Dennis said, rolling his eyes.
"Yes you will," Ron muttered under his breath.
"C'mon, Ron, I don't have time for this." Dennis said, starting to get impatient. Ron sighed, rubbing his face with his hand.
"I killed your niece and her husband, Dennis." Ron said, looking away.
Silence.
"What?" The syllable came out as a rasping whisper; the desperate attempt of a man trying to tell himself what he had just heard wasn't true.
"You heard me." Ron said. "Don't make me repeat it."
"Anna?" He whispered, looking away and dropping his quill. "Anna? Why Anna?" His voice was hoarse. Not full of hatred or anger, but simply...shock. Shock and heartbreak.
"Because she is your niece, and Voldemort suspects you of being closely involved in the Light side of the war." Ron said, his guilt going from worse to unbearable as he watched the expression on Dennis's face. "I'm so sorry, Dennis..."
"She was like me daughter." His voice cracked with emotion, and his hands were shaking. "She was everything...and you killed her!" He rounded on Ron, a wild hatred in his eyes. Ron immediately started scooting backward. "You killed her, you bastard, and now I'll kill you!" He lunged at Ron, but Bill grabbed him. "Let me go, you moron, he killed Anna! He killed my niece! I'll rip him apart from limb to limb! I'll-"
"Good God, man!" Bill roared over Dennis's screams. "Settle down! Don't you see he had no choice?"
The gleam faded from Dennis's eyes. He stopped struggling, and sat back down in his seat, looking miserable once again. He looked up at Ron, his eyes now devoid of anything at all.
"I'm sorry, my boy." Dennis said. "I know you didn't have a choice. It's just...why? Why my Anna?"
"The funeral will be attacked." Ron said softly. "Of that I am sure. You cannot go, the whole thing was to set you up."
"He killed her because of me?" Dennis croaked. Bill looked between them sympathetically. He then grabbed his parchment and took down all the notes.
"Anything else?" He asked grimly. Ron opened his mouth to tell them about Dudley. He really did. He had every intention of telling them about what had happened, and begging for their understanding. He opened his mouth to tell them about Dudley, but...
"No, Bill. That's all."
"All right then," Bill said, finishing his writings with a flourish. "Go on home and get some rest, you have a big wedding tomorrow. I'll take care of things with Dennis." He added in an undertone. Ron nodded, turned, and disapparated.
Why hadn't he told them about Dudley? Ron felt miserable as he tumbled into bed, only bothering to take off his winter cloak. He tried to fall asleep, but a voice kept ringing through his mind.
"You killed Anna! You killed my niece! I'll tear him apart from limb to limb..."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Calm down, man!" Ron exclaimed, patting Harry on the back. "Everything will be fine."
"You hope." Harry said. He was not being his usual optimistic self. Ron sighed, he had never figured out this whole 'nervous about the wedding' syndrome. If Harry and Hermione weren't meant to be, then Ron wasn't a Death Eater!
Whoa, never thought he'd be using THAT analogy!
"Breathe in, breathe out," Sirius commanded, massaging Harry's shoulders. Sirius had been cleared the summer before sixth year. He had been Harry's guardian since then.
Ron smiled coldly. The summer before sixth year. That was the same summer he had become a spy/Death Eater/traitor/two-faced/turncoat...the list went on and on and on.
Anyway, Sirius had been cleared once Wormtail had been captured. Ron remembered clearly that day in August, because he had just come home from a particularly grueling Death Eater training session with MacNair. He had not been in the mood to celebrate even though he didn't have much choice. Because, you see, Ron already knew all about Wormtail's capture.
After all, it was Severus who did it.
But enough about Severus's heroic deeds and how much Harry and Sirius were indebted to him (even though they didn't know it). After all, it was Harry's wedding day! Ron had been looking forward to this as much as anyone else, because it would finally give him a chance to chill out and relax and pretend the whole Death Eater thing was a bad dream.
However, there was still the chance that he would be summoned.
That had been damn inconvenient when he was summoned last night! Harry had asked him about it, and Ron had miraculously managed to sidestep the question. Harry was far too nervous to keep pressing him about it. So even though he had been looking forward to it, Ron knew he had to be cautious. There were too many things that could go wrong.
He was glad Rayven would be there.
What? Where had that come from? Yes, he was glad Rayven would be there...for reassurance. To back him up if he did happen to be summoned....right? That's what he was thinking of, right?
Luckily, Ron's thoughts were interrupted when an owl came flying through the window. It dropped an envelope on one of the small tables in the room, then quickly turned and left. Ron picked it up curiously, and read the words 'Mr. Harry Potter'.
"Harry, you got some mail." Ron said.
"Just open and read it to me." Harry said nervously. "I don't think I could even hold it steady right now."
"Calm down, man!" Seamus, the third and final groomsman said. Sirius was massaging Harry's shoulders. Seamus and Harry were both becoming aurors, which is what lead Harry to make him a groomsman in the first place.
Ron shrugged and opened the letter. He opened it, and immediately began reading.
"Dear Mr. Potter,
We regret to inform you...."
Ron stopped abruptly, his eyes as wide as saucers. Holy shit, this was the kind of letter everyone didn't want to get. But that wasn't why Ron's eyes were wide and his hands were trembling.
"We regret to inform me of what?" Harry asked forcefully. He gulped and looked at Ron, who had gone pasty. Those words, Harry knew, meant someone had died. They always did. There had been a few of those for students whose parents had been victims of the Dark Lord.
Ron looked up at Harry, but was unable to keep eye contact. He swallowed, then read the letter in the monotonous, emotionless voice he had developed from being a Death Eater.
"Dear Mr. Potter,
We regret to inform you that your cousin, Dudley Dursley, was found dead in his home at number four, Privet Drive, under the Dark Mark. The cause of death was the killing curse, used at approximately 1:43 this morning. We send our sympathy.
Cornelius Fudge,
Minister of Magic."
Ron then folded the letter and slipped it back inside its envelope. He chanced a glance at Harry, but had to look away. Harry's eyes were wide, and his face was blank. Damn it, he had said he hated Dudley! Why the hell did he have that look, just to torture Ron?
But Ron knew it was entirely his fault. He had killed Dudley. For no real reason other than the fact that he wanted to kill someone. Why the hell had he done it?
"I...Dudley's dead?" Harry asked, sounding somewhat dazed. "But...but he never did anything. He was just a Muggle. They killed him because of me. They killed him because he's MY cousin..." Harry's voice was distant. Ron cringed. This was all his fault, he had ruined Harry's wedding.
"I'll just go tell the priest that we'll be a few minutes late, shall I?" Ron asked, anxious to leave this confined space. He suddenly felt very claustrophobic.
"No, no, I'll be fine. After all, it's just Dudley, right?" Harry asked, trying to force a smile. Sirius nodded behind Harry, and Ron turned and took off as fast as he could. He told the priest, then the all the people waiting patiently for the wedding to commence. (Including, Ron noted with disgust, Rita Skeeter.) He then proceeded to go tell Hermione and the other girls.
When Ron knocked, it was Ginny who answered the door. She was dressed in a light golden dress, with just enough frilly things to make it look like it belonged in a wedding. Ron wasn't one to think it, but other men his age would've described her as beautiful, especially with that cute little look of annoyance flitting across her face.
"What the hell do you want?" She snapped. Well, so much for cute.
"What's your problem?" Ron asked, somewhat taken aback by his baby sister's choice of words. Her face relaxed.
"I'm sorry Ron, it's just that I've got a really bad feeling about something." She muttered. Ron raised an eyebrow. "It's like...oh, I don't know! Not the wedding of course, Harry and Hermione are perfect for each other, it's just that-"
"The wedding's being postponed for about ten minutes," Ron said. Ginny looked up in surprise.
"What?" She demanded.
"Confirm your suspicions, Gin," Ron said grimly. "Harry's cousin was killed last night."
"Oh my..." Ginny's eyes widened, and her hand flew to her heart. "Was it...?"
"Voldemort?" Ron asked, and watched his sister flinch. For some reason, Ron was no longer afraid of the name. It didn't really make much sense, as the only people who had more to fear from the Dark Lord than those against him were his followers. "Yes, Ginny. Death Eaters. The Dark Mark was in the sky and everything."
"I'll tell Hermione." Ginny whispered, gently shutting the door.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Harry was nervous. Incredibly nervous, and grieving at the same time. Not a good combination. However, you wouldn't know this last bit if you hadn't been told, he looked just like every other nervous groom. Sirius said he looked so much like his father it was frightening. Remus had to agree.
He jumped slightly as the familiar tune started up, and knew the wedding procession was making its way toward him. He heard the crowd 'ooo' and 'ahh', and could only assume that Hermione had approached. Harry started to turn, wanting to see her. In his opinion, Hermione was always beautiful, but just thinking of her in a wedding dress made him itch to see it.
Ron held him back, staring at Hermione himself. So this is why Harry fell in love with her! The dress was perfect, and she was blushing slightly. But that wasn't what made her look the way she did. She was glowing, absolutely glowing. Ron could see all her inner beauty shining through her hopeful eyes, radiating off her in tangible waves. And suddenly Ron knew what he wanted more than anything in the world.
He wanted someone to look at him like that.
It was clear that nothing could make Hermione happier than marrying Harry. She loved him. It was as clear as the freckles on Ron's face. She was so in love with him she really didn't know anything else that was going on. Ron wondered what it felt like to be in love.
His eyes traveled to Rayven.
What are you doing? He demanded of himself. Damn it, Ron, she doesn't love you, and she never will. She knows who you really are. She knows WHAT you really are. No one could love you.
And that is what he really believed. The problem was, although he was pretty good at convincing himself Rayven didn't love him, he somehow couldn't even try to tell himself he didn't love her. But it was like a sister, right? Oh, who the hell was he kidding? He loved her; that much was certain. Damn it!
Meanwhile, Hermione had reached Harry. Harry's breath left him when he saw Hermione's face. God, she was beautiful. All doubts left him as he took her hands. Mrs. Hermione Potter. Yeah, he liked the sound of that. He like the sound of that a lot.
The wedding flew by with Hermione and Harry wrapped up only in each other. When the priest said 'Kiss the Bride', the crowd was not prepared for it. Yes, Ron thought jealously, they were in love. True love, pure love, the kind of love a Death Eater can never have.
However, Ron's dark mood subsided as they went forward to the reception. Rayven sat next to him at the head table for dinner, along with the happy newlyweds, Sirius, Remus, Seamus, Hermione's parents, and Ginny. There were people of all shapes and sizes, all having a fabulous time. Bells rang constantly, demanding Harry and Hermione Potter to kiss. Not that they minded or anything. Hermione Potter...Ron tossed the words inside of his mind. They fit together, he thought with a smile. They were meant to be.
Ron watched as Harry and Hermione stood for their first dance, which Harry had been dreading. He still didn't dance well, but he looked so happy that no one noticed. The song was one Ron had never heard before, but he couldn't think of anything more appropriate.
"Did you ever know that you're my hero?
You're everything I wish I could be
And I can fly higher than an eagle
'Cause you are the wind beneath my wings"
Harry whispered in Hermione's ear, and Ron could see her blushing. They were so perfect together....so perfect. Ron, after all these years, still found it hard to believe. Yet there they were, fitting together just like a married couple should.
Married. Well, there's a word Ron was going to have to get used to. His two best friends were married, and to each other no less! Yes, this was going to take some time. Yet seeing them in love was nothing new, Ron had been watching it since he was eleven.
Soon the song was ending, and another starting. Now, Ron realized, the wedding party had to dance. No big deal, he was only dancing with his sister.
Yes, Ginny did look beautiful, even Ron couldn't deny it. He told her so, and she blushed.
"Not that your opinion means much," She teased. Ron rolled his eyes.
"Thanks Ginny, love you too." He said. "Anyway, what's my favorite little sister been up to lately?"
"I'm your only little sister." Ginny pointed out.
"So?"
"Yeah, good point." She sighed, letting her brother twirl her around. "Ron, I've been thinking about what to do after I graduate."
"And you're talking to me?" Ron joked. "I don't have a steady job, remember?"
"Yes, well..." She seemed to be on the verge of stuttering. "Ron, I want to...er..."
"To what?" Ron asked, frowning. She was worrying him.
"Work at the Ministry," She finished lamely. Ron's frowned deepened.
"That's not what you were going to say, is it?" He demanded.
"Well..." Ginny bit her lip, and allowed herself to be twirled once more, more to procrastinate than anything else. "Um, see, I...I want to be an Unspeakable." She squeaked. And for good reason. Ron's blue eyes flared.
"Ginny, don't be ridiculous." He hissed. "That is far too dangerous. Do you know how many Unspeakables die each year? Too damn many!"
"I knew you would get hysterical." Ginny sighed. "Look, it's just a thought. Nothing's in stone."
"Don't let it get in stone, Ginny. Always leave yourself a way out." Ron said wisely. 'Because I didn't' he thought bitterly. There was no way out of the Circle. You could never turn back.
"Yes, well, if not...I'm still going to be an auror." She said stubbornly. Ron sighed, stopping his steps as the dance ended.
"There's nothing I can do to stop you Ginny." Ron smiled, leading her back to the table. "You're too damn stubborn."
"Thanks," She said sarcastically, but smiled anyway. He handed her to Seamus, who politely asked for the next dance, and sat down next to Rayven. It didn't take them long to get into a conversation. In next to no time it Harry and Hermione were cutting the cake.
Hermione smashed her piece all over Harry's face. However, it seemed that he couldn't do the same. When Harry raised his cake to try and get his revenge it seemed to be repelled by Hermione.
"That's cheating!" Harry objected. "You used magic!"
"So?" She laughed.
"Well, that spell doesn't save your hair!" He cried.
"Okay, okay!" She cried, taking the spell off. Harry fed her the cake gently, only getting some frosting on the tip of her nose. Then, Ron stood for his best man speech.
"Harry and Hermione...what can I say about them?" Ron asked, raising his glass. "They have been my best friends for over eight years. They deserve no one but each other. Except that I don't know if Herm can put up with Harry's snoring." There was laughter from the crowd. "No, really, I was in his dorm, he snores!" Ron insisted, but he was grinning. "Well, I'm still trying to swallow the whole 'Hermione Potter' thing, but I know that they're in love, and I'm sure you all do too. Here's to Harry and Hermione Potter!" He lifted his drink and gulped it down through applause and clinging glasses.
The music started up again, and everyone was dancing. Ron watched quietly. He was aware of Rayven just a few seats down, but his eyes were traveling the dancers. God, how he wanted to be one of them, any one of them. One of those carefree, innocent, loving people. Not the murderer he was.
Harry and Hermione came back up to the high table for a drink, giggling and high on life. Ron watched them, torn between jealously and joy. They, however, did not seem to notice his odd mood.
"You going to sit there all night like a bump on a log?" Harry asked, grinning. Ron shrugged.
"Aw c'mon, go dance!" Hermione said.
"With whom, may I ask?" Ron said. Hermione looked down at Rayven and winked.
"Why with Miss Michaels, of course!" She said. Before either Ron or Rayven could object, the Potters had lifted them out of their seats and basically thrown them out to the dance floor.
"Might as well humor them." Ron sighed. "It's their wedding, after all."
"Yeah," Rayven replied. The song was fast and very upbeat. It wasn't until they were dancing that Ron realized how beautiful she looked.
Her dress was skin-tight until her waist, where it fell naturally to her ankles. It was creamy in color, and stopped at her collarbones, with no straps or sleeves to hold it there. Her auburn hair was swept up into a French twist, with a lonely stray tendril gracing her face.
"I can't dance!" She said, half shouting over the music, but laughing at the same time.
"Neither can I," Ron assured her. "But let's have a go at it anyway." And so they did, for about three songs straight. Rayven laughed as she and Ron tried desperately not to step on each other. Ron was having a fabulous time despite himself. Then, a slow song started in.
Before Ron knew what was happening he had Rayven in his arms. His breathing was becoming irregular. They hadn't been this close since that morning at the park...Ron tried to take his mind of the beautiful girl he was holding and focus on the music. The song wasn't as beautiful as she was, but it was pretty.
"Wherever you go, whatever you do
I will be right here waiting for you
Whatever you say, or how my heart breaks
I will be right here waiting for you"
Rayven pulled away from Ron slightly and he looked down at her. There eyes met, sapphire and gold. And in that moment of eternity, the music and reception and all of reality slipped away, and there was only her eyes. It was all so perfect, so right...
And he kissed her.
Ron felt something surge through his veins as he kissed her, trying to pour all his emotions into this one kiss. He found her kissing him back with equal force, both knowing this was impossible and neither caring. He felt her arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer, and Ron knew he never wanted to let her go.
"Harry," Hermione whispered, nudging her husband.
"Hmm?" He asked, smiling at her.
"Look," She whispered, pointing at Ron and Rayven, who were kissing passionately. Harry looked and lifted an eyebrow. He exchanged looks with his wife, and both turned back to the kissing couple with knowing smiles. There was no doubt about it.
Ronald Weasley and Rayven Michaels were desperately in love.