The exhausted youth breathes slowly, carefully, avoiding the sharp pains he felt in his chest every time air was taken in quickly. Black rimmed eyes drooped close as he snatched much needed sleep, rest he could never find in the night.
The hammer fell down upon the sword for the final time, completing its keen edge. Quickly, while the blade was still red hot, he ran his thumb down the edge, coating it in a thick red line of blood. Raising the artifact above his head, he chanted the final words to the spell.
"By thy hand I forged thee, by thy blood I bound thee, by thy name I call thee!"
To outward appearances , nothing happened, but he could feel the power surging through his body, into the sword. His senses had never been so acute. He could feel the power transferring from his hands to the hilt, feel the cut on his hand heal in an instant, feel the chill of cold steel...
The boy woke slowly, bewildered by his vision. He shifted slightly as he thought, mainly to relieve the ache in his arms. Ron moved his fingers to keep them from going numb - and froze.
There was something in his hand. Something cold. And hard. And suspiciously like the-
-Of course I am, boy! What did you expect, the Staff?-
"Wh-o? Wha-?"
-Don't talk out loud! Just Send your thought to me.-
-U-um, o-ok. Wh-what are you?-
-The Sword. What else?-
-The...Sword-
-Yes, yes. Now, you seem to be in a bit of a predicament. If you allow me, I can get you out of it.-
Ron lost all caution, so desperate was he to escape the hellhole.
-Yes! Yes, get me out of here!-
-It's going to hurt though. I came to you prematurely and you aren't ready for my full potential, but you need it right now, so I'll use it if you want me to. But it's going to hurt.-
-I don't care! If I stay here, I'm going to hurt more!-
-I doubt that, but at least you will be in good hands if I do. Well, here goes...-
Pain filled the youth instantly, total and searing. It was pain beyond Crucio, beyond even feeling. He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out. So much was his agony that he completely missed the Door opening in front of him.
* * *
Harry looked at his schedule and groaned.
"Potions, first class of the year. Damn. And Defense with the new professor after that. What was her name again, 'Mione?"
"Professor Hanrahan. And if you ask me, she looks familiar. Can't place my finger on it though."
"I don't think so. Unless its from a scholar to scholar point of view. That would account for...for why..."
He trailed off as the breakfast crowd abruptly went quiet. Hermione was staring with wide eyes at a spot behind him. So was everyone else, for that that matter.
The boy turned around slowly, his breath catching in his throat ashe caught sight of what had made everyone else speechless. There, where the door to the Great Hall should have been, was a window of sorts. Through it, an empty room could clearly be perceived. In the center of the room sat a figure outlined in gold, clearly in pain. His mouth was open in a silent scream, every muscle in his body was straining against bonds that held him to the chair, sweat was dripping from his red hair...
Red hair....
"RON!"
Harry leaped from his seat, dashing towards the scene. He wondered, hoped that it wasn't just a scene, but an actual opening...
-Of course it is, by Merlin's Ring! Haven't you ever seen a Door?!?!? Hurry it up, I can't hold it forever!-
The youth didn't stop to wonder at the voice in his head, he just moved. Grasping his wand in one hand, he yelled out the first spell that came to mind.
"Accio chair!"
The chair his companion was on flew towards him, taking Ron with it. As soon as he was past the threshold, the Door vanished, the Great Hall door reappearing. Harry ignored that though, shoving his way through the crowd towards his friend. Hermione was already there, fumbling at the knots that held an unconscious Ron to the seat. Wordlessly, Harry dug through his pockets to find the knife Sirius had given him the Christmas before and handed it to her. As soon as she slashed through the ropes, Ron slumped forward, revealing a heavily bruised chest and bloody wrists, along with various cuts on his torso. Despite the dried blood on his hands, he held a sword in his right hand, one he wouldn't let go even in his unconscious state. Professor Dumbledore appeared at that moment, conjuring the battered form onto a stretcher.
"Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley students, please accompany me to the Hospital Wing. All others resume normal activities."
With no further ado, he strode quickly away with Ron following him, the named studens following in his wake.