A week later, the lanky form limped slowly through the portrait filled halls. Despite the benign smiles the paintings were giving him, he couldn't help but feel resentment at the lack of his companionship. The day Madam Pomfrey finally released him from her care and not even his friends showed up to see him back to the tower. Great. Just great.

He walked slowly, carefully, mindful not to jar his ribs too hard. They were still a bit sensitive because they had to heal the normal way. When he'd asked the nurse why, she'd gone into a long, technical explanation, but Ron managed to sort out that they had been cracked for so long that they had begun to heal on their own, thus preventing magic from affecting it. Why it mattered, he still couldn't figure out, but that was why he wasn't planning on going into the magical medical field.

The youth had been relieved to get into his own clothes again, ones that were clean and untorn, though patched here and there. The ones he'd arrived in were completely ruined by rips and bloodstains, and even if they hadn't been, he wasn't sure if he really would want to wear them again. Bad association and all that.

A new addition to his wardrobe hung by his side. Frankly, he wasn't sure if he really wanted the sword of Gryffindor, but as soon as the Headmaster had given him a plain leather sheath, he'd seen that there was no choice in the matter.

-Damn right there's no choice. You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not-

-Why me? Why not Harry? He's certainly had everything fall into his lap, why not this too?-

-Because Harry's not you!-

Well, you can see why Ron wasn't particularly enthusiastic about his new....er....companion.

Finally, the student reached the Fat Lady, mumbling the password Dumbledore had given him. She swung open and he shuffled in, running a hand through his hair (good lord, he needed a hair cut) as he entered the common room - and froze.

A huge sign displaying the words 'WELCOME HOME, RON!' flashed red and gold, a painting of himself in his Weasley sweater grinning and waving at him. It was obviously Dean's work, but that wasn't the only thing that astounded him. The room was FULL of people grinning at him, cheering for him, clapping for him. For him. He gaped, jaw slack, eyes wide with surprise.

Something hurtled into him and he broke from his daze to look down at Ginny. Hermione wasn't far behind and Harry came over too, slinging an arm across his shoulder. Pointing to a corner of the room where the twins were waiting, he yelled loud enough for Ron to hear him over the clamor.

"Fred and George er....made a cake for you! I'd be careful before you eat it though - you might turn into a frog!"

"Either that or a toad, right Harry?!?"

The two companions grinned at each other and the sword-bearer disentagled himself from his sibling's attentions so the four could adjourn to the food. A very enjoyable party followed, and Ron was able to get to sleep that night with a grin on his face.

* * *

The next day signaled a return to normal ways for Harry. He could now walk down the corridors with both of his best friends beside him, laughing and talking without having to worry if one of them was going to die soon. In fact, the only thing that marred his good mood was the fact that it was Monday, which meant their first session of Potions and a second helping of Hanrahan.

Snape was in his usual foul mood.

"Some of us went on about our lives last Monday. Some of us were present for the demonstration of the effects of drovel on various fungi. Those who were here may now continue to experiment - cautiously," He glanced sharply at Neville. "on our own. Those of you who were not here- I expect a 3 foot scroll on those previously mentioned effects on my desk by tommorrow afternoon."

Harry was about to protest, but Hermione elbowed him sharply and he acquiesed grudginly. When the bell rang, he's only completed about an inch of the scroll from the information in the text book and it didn't look like Ron or Hermione had done any better.

At lunch, Ron ate what seemed like a meal for eight, but Harry only picked at his food, nervous about their next class for no apparent reason.

"Harry, I just don't understand how the Professor can make you so nervous! She's alright, she really is, even if she does have some odd grudge against you. Besides, she's obviously not another Quirrell or Lockhart," Hermione told him.

"How do you kn-," Harry began.

"Oh look, there's the Daily Prophet!" Hermione interrupted. Swiftly, she unrolled the paper and started. "Ron there's something here about you!"

"What? Where?"

"Listen to this: While the kidnapped Ronald Weasley has been recovered and is apparently alright, details of his captors are not yet clear. The boy claims that it was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named who held him, but it was obvious he was delirious and in no position to judge who he was imprisoned by. Authorities are looking into the case, as well as how he escaped their grasp."

"What!?!?! I may have been in pain, but I was not delirious! I may not know why they kidnapped me, but I most certainly know who!"

"There's more: "'There is no indication that You-Know-Who has returned, and indeed, the possibility is incredibly remote. The Weasley boy must have been suffering from delusions - after all, it was quite obvious that he had been tortured,' states Cornelius Fudge after asked about the situation.

Ronald Weasley could not be reached for statements."

The two boys stared at utter disbelief at the picture of Fudge blinking gravely on the front page.

"I cannot believe him! How much more evidence can he possibly need?!?" Harry's outburst was heard several tables down and a few people stopped eating to stare at him, but he ignored their looks.

"Calm down, Harry. We all know Fudge is off his rocker for denying Voldemort's return," Ron paused at the other two's disbelieving stares and then went on, a bit annoyed. "What, you think that I'm still hesitant to say his name? Come on, the fact that I've been tortured, by the guy makes me a bit less willing to give him any edge over me."

"That's good th-," Harry started.

"OH MY GOSH, we are going to be late!" exclaimed Hermione.

The three dashed through the halls, Harry shooting an annoyed look at Hermione at being interrupted yet again. Nevertheless, she was right. They were almost late, but managed to slip into their desks a moment before the Professor entered.

"Today I will be evaluating you on your previous education. I expect to see you successfully complete a Shrinking Potion, a Summoning Charm, a Banishment, and to tell the difference between a sprout of Wolfsbane and Dragonella. We will not finish everyone today, but we will complete everyone next time. Don't forget, your research on magical groups is due two weeks from today. We will begin from the end of the alphabet. Blaise Zabini."

As the Slytherin did his evaluation, the trio conferred on the project.

"What project? What do we have to do?" Ron questioned Hermione, slightly panicked.

As Hermione explained the research paper to him, Harry let his mind wander. Ron still had the sword belted to his waist, he noticed. He wasn't sure why, but his friend moved as if were a part of him, unconsciously resting his hand on the hilt when he wasn't thinking.

-That's because he was born to it-

Harry bit his tongue, he was so surprised. This was the voice that had spoken to him last week, that had told him about the...er...Door.

-So startled? Better get used to it-

"Ron Weasley!"

-Uh oh. This is not going to be good-

-Wh-why?-

Whoever - or whatever - didn't deign to give a reply to Harry. He watched as Ron's brow furrowed and as his hand tightened around the hilt, but he sat down in front of Professor Hanrahan with little trepidation. It was obvious she was giving him no allowances for his previous adventures, though. He was given the ingredients for the potion with the same brisk efficiency that the teacher had offered them to Zabini. If he seemed a bit preoccupied while concocting the potion, well, it came out alright, which was what was needed.

Harry continued watching as Hanrahan motioned for him to perform a Summoning Charm. His friend pulled his wand from his sleeve while shooting a frown at the blade hanging at his side. Performing the neccessary movement, Ron muttered the incantation - then yelled and collapsed to hands and knees.

* * *


-Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it! You're not Healed yet!-

-What are you talking about?!? Of course I'm Healed!-

-You CANNOT do this, you're not ready!-

-I learned all of this last year, and third and econd and first year! Of COURSE I'm ready! I'm doing it, and that it THAT!-

Shutting the blade out of his mind, Ron brewed the potion successfully. Smug in his victory, he reached for his wand.

-DON'T DO IT!-

Frowning at the sword, he ignored i'ts so-called advice. Sweep and aim and-

"Accio chair!"

Pain, pain burning, through his brain, through his blood through his veins! White-hot fire scorching, searing, tearing him apart, rending him, incinerating him- With a yell of shock, the youth dropped to hands and knees. Pain, gods, the pain- and then it was gone

-I told you so-