Author's Note: Thanks to returning reviewers sew2100, Max LoneWolf, Occamy and Amerz,
and to newly-arrived sbys.
***
Ron sleepwalked through the next day. Classes had been canceled for the second day (tentatively, the entire week was likely to be written off), as most students were too deep in grief to concentrate on studies.
Ron had not seen many of his friends in days. Parvati and Lavender had not left their dorm, nor touched the food brought them by the house-elves at Dumbledore's bidding. Throughout the school, the students and teachers all seemed to be grieving in their own, private way.
There were, however, notable exceptions. The Slytherins all but celebrated the "Mudblood's" death as a second Christmas, incited by the bilious standard of Draco Malfoy. Their enthusiasm diminished quickly when a group of Gryffindors, led by no less a personage than Neville Longbottom, hurled so many Curses and hexes at Malfoy that his father took him out of school in fear for his life.
Ron was sitting at an otherwise deserted table in the Dining Hall, his plate of bangers scarcely touched, when an owl swept down and landed at his elbow. He read the note impassively for benefit of any onlookers, then unobtrusively incinerated it with his wand and scattered the ashes under the table. He stood up unhurriedly and exited the sepulchral Hall, his mind awash with an incongruous mixture of trepidation and resolve.
'No turning back now,' he thought as he made his way up to Gryffindor Tower. He passed through the half-filled common room, chilled by the grim silence and the despair weighing the young faces like a pall. He ascended to his dorm, carefully checked each bed for habitation. Satisfied that he was alone, he drew a folded bundle from under his pillow, all the while watching the doorway. Moving quickly, he shook out the Invisibility Cloak and covered himself.
Breathing easier now, Ron caught up his school bag and tucked it under his arm. He hastened down the stairs, barely dodging a morose Dean Thomas who was moving as in a fog. Summoning a patience not his by nature, Ron stood by the portrait hole and waited until it opened to admit a student. He slipped out soundlessly and exited the castle without incident.
Ron resisted the urge to run to Hogsmeade at full gallop, fearing that the Cloak would billow and reveal some part of him. But his long legs ate up the distance quickly, and soon he was approaching the caves where he, Harry and Hermione had visited the fugitive Sirius during fourth year. Ron saw no one -- but, of course, Fred and George would not be lurking about suspiciously in full view, would they? There being nothing else for it, Ron removed the Invisibility Cloak and strode toward the caves with the forced ease of one taking a simple constitutional.
"Ron!" a familiar voice hissed. "Over here!"
Ron sighed with relief as he saw Fred and George standing at the entrance of a small cave that was partly hidden by brush and scrub. They exchanged a brief greeting, whereupon Fred handed Ron a bag that bore the mark of the Potions Shop in Diagon Alley. Ron nodded his thanks to Fred, then turned to George.
George lifted his hand, revealing a small box tied with string.
"I didn't open it," George said as Ron took the box and stared at it as if he expected it to explode in his hand. "I was told to tell you it's very second-hand. Our 'friend' stakes his reputation that it'll work, but it might have only three or four uses left. He said you'd understand."
Ron nodded.
"How much?" he asked hesitantly.
"A bit," George chuckled. "But I talked him down. Gave him a deal on some merchandise. Did you know that Canary Creams are a Controlled Substance in the Republic of Ireland? Makes a bloke proud, doesn't it, Fred?"
Ron held the small package to his bosom with something akin to veneration.
"Thanks," he said almost breathlessly.
"You'll have to tell us what it's all about sometime, eh?" said Fred. "Bet it's quite a story."
His mouth was smiling, as was George's; but their eyes looked at Ron as if they thought they might never see their brother again.
Ron sleepwalked through the next day. Classes had been canceled for the second day (tentatively, the entire week was likely to be written off), as most students were too deep in grief to concentrate on studies.
Ron had not seen many of his friends in days. Parvati and Lavender had not left their dorm, nor touched the food brought them by the house-elves at Dumbledore's bidding. Throughout the school, the students and teachers all seemed to be grieving in their own, private way.
There were, however, notable exceptions. The Slytherins all but celebrated the "Mudblood's" death as a second Christmas, incited by the bilious standard of Draco Malfoy. Their enthusiasm diminished quickly when a group of Gryffindors, led by no less a personage than Neville Longbottom, hurled so many Curses and hexes at Malfoy that his father took him out of school in fear for his life.
Ron was sitting at an otherwise deserted table in the Dining Hall, his plate of bangers scarcely touched, when an owl swept down and landed at his elbow. He read the note impassively for benefit of any onlookers, then unobtrusively incinerated it with his wand and scattered the ashes under the table. He stood up unhurriedly and exited the sepulchral Hall, his mind awash with an incongruous mixture of trepidation and resolve.
'No turning back now,' he thought as he made his way up to Gryffindor Tower. He passed through the half-filled common room, chilled by the grim silence and the despair weighing the young faces like a pall. He ascended to his dorm, carefully checked each bed for habitation. Satisfied that he was alone, he drew a folded bundle from under his pillow, all the while watching the doorway. Moving quickly, he shook out the Invisibility Cloak and covered himself.
Breathing easier now, Ron caught up his school bag and tucked it under his arm. He hastened down the stairs, barely dodging a morose Dean Thomas who was moving as in a fog. Summoning a patience not his by nature, Ron stood by the portrait hole and waited until it opened to admit a student. He slipped out soundlessly and exited the castle without incident.
Ron resisted the urge to run to Hogsmeade at full gallop, fearing that the Cloak would billow and reveal some part of him. But his long legs ate up the distance quickly, and soon he was approaching the caves where he, Harry and Hermione had visited the fugitive Sirius during fourth year. Ron saw no one -- but, of course, Fred and George would not be lurking about suspiciously in full view, would they? There being nothing else for it, Ron removed the Invisibility Cloak and strode toward the caves with the forced ease of one taking a simple constitutional.
"Ron!" a familiar voice hissed. "Over here!"
Ron sighed with relief as he saw Fred and George standing at the entrance of a small cave that was partly hidden by brush and scrub. They exchanged a brief greeting, whereupon Fred handed Ron a bag that bore the mark of the Potions Shop in Diagon Alley. Ron nodded his thanks to Fred, then turned to George.
George lifted his hand, revealing a small box tied with string.
"I didn't open it," George said as Ron took the box and stared at it as if he expected it to explode in his hand. "I was told to tell you it's very second-hand. Our 'friend' stakes his reputation that it'll work, but it might have only three or four uses left. He said you'd understand."
Ron nodded.
"How much?" he asked hesitantly.
"A bit," George chuckled. "But I talked him down. Gave him a deal on some merchandise. Did you know that Canary Creams are a Controlled Substance in the Republic of Ireland? Makes a bloke proud, doesn't it, Fred?"
Ron held the small package to his bosom with something akin to veneration.
"Thanks," he said almost breathlessly.
"You'll have to tell us what it's all about sometime, eh?" said Fred. "Bet it's quite a story."
His mouth was smiling, as was George's; but their eyes looked at Ron as if they thought they might never see their brother again.