Disclaimer: Still don't own it… sigh. I don't think I ever will, because J.K Rowling isn't going to get rid off it that easily.
CHAPTER XV: RETELLING THE PAST
Ron didn't know how to react but to just wrap his arms around the person who gave him a huge hug. It seemed that the minute Hermione had helped him up; everyone seemed to have attacked him, hoping for a chance to give him a hug. Tears were flowing from everyone's eyes, while people kept shooting him with questions. But, he was too numb to respond; his mind wasn't working quite well at the moment.
All he was aware of, however, was that he refused to release his grip over Hermione's hand, and she wasn't showing any indications of wanting to let go of him. Thus, whenever a new person would come to greet him, he would hug them, while gripping tightly onto her hand. But, when Harry came to meet him, his face was streaked with tears, and the very sight of him brought such a strong feeling to Ron that he didn't want to let go of Harry, who was closely followed by an equally grief-stricken Ginny.
"It's good to see you, mate," Harry mumbled in his ear, while they embraced warmly.
"Same to you," Ron whispered back.
"Ron, would you like anything?" Dumbledore inquired politely. Ron looked at him dazed as if seeing him for the first time.
"No thank you, Professor Dumbledore. I really don't feel like drinking anything right now," Ron replied, while sinking into a chair and pulling Hermione into the chair next to him. She smiled at him reassuringly, causing shivers to run up his spine. It seemed like ages ago since he'd last kissed those full lips and he was eager to do it again.
But, there was something that had to be done before he could spend some time alone with her, for just then the supposed Minister of Magic declared, "Good, Mr. Weasley. If you are ready and fully recovered, the world, including myself would like to know where you and Mr. Potter have been for the past five years."
"Five years?" Ron echoed and glanced at Harry. "You didn't tell them what happened to us?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at him.
Harry shook his head. "I thought it would be best if you'd wake up and then we'd tell."
Ron smiled to himself. Typical Harry behavior! Leave the talking to Mr. Weasley. Well, in that case, there was no time to lose. Taking a deep breath, and squeezing Hermione's hand tightly, just to remember that she was at his side, Ron began his story.
~*~*~*~*
FIVE YEARS AGO…
Ron ducked expertly as Harry threw his spear at him, during battle training. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his own knife and started to lash at Harry with such determination and skill, it would be hard to believe that they were only 17-years-old, merely helping experienced wizards and fighters in defeating the Dark side. Harry didn't think twice. Grabbing his wrist, he twisted his arm and shoved him to the ground. Ron groaned as he fell, while the rest of the audience cheered at the magnificent display of fighting.
Harry grinned at him and offered him a hand. "You okay there, Ron?" he asked anxiously, yet with a hint of smugness.
Ron smirked back at him. He would get even with him all right. "Sure I am. Thanks for asking." Saying so, he accepted his offered hand and with all his force, pulled him down as well.
The crowd of young boys laughed, while their instructor, Warren clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "This isn't a time of playing around, boys. You should be worried about what'll happen if they do attack."
"Awww c'mon, Warren. Give us a break. We've been training for the past six weeks," Ron complained, as he stood up, wiping off the droplets of sweat forming on the back of his neck.
"Still," Warren replied firmly. "You need all the practice you can get. Now the both of you go clean up while I deal with the next pair. Thomas, Finnigan. You're up." Harry and Ron gathered their things and headed for the lake, where they would go to freshen up.
"Heard from Hermione lately?" Harry queried, splashing water on his face.
Ron nodded his head as he dove off a rock. His red hair gleaming, he surfaced to the top and began, "Hermione wrote to me a couple days ago. I'm expecting a letter any minute."
Harry grinned, as Ron sank back into the bottom. When he resurfaced, his broad chest gleaming in the sunlight, Harry continued, "How is she?"
Ron sighed dreamily and floated on his back. "She's fine. She was just telling me how she finished yet another book in the library. Honestly, she finds time to do everything." He sighed again and swam towards the bank. "I guess that's just one of the reasons I love her," he murmured as he lay down on the sand.
Harry smiled to himself as he joined him. "You must really love her," he remarked softly as he crossed his arms behind his head and lay down.
"Yea, I do." Ron rolled over and digging in his robes for at least an eternity, he pulled out the compass Hermione had given him before he'd left. He unclasped the lock and gazed at the lovely picture inside. God, how he loved that face…that simple yet wonderful face. He must have been looking at it for too long for Harry cleared his throat. "Ahem."
Ron looked at him, with a dazed expression on his face. "You've forgotten that I'm still here," he reminded him.
Ron's face cleared and gave a small laugh. "Don't worry mate. Just had to look at her face for some time."
They were quiet for a while, as everyone around them, remained absorbed in their own little activities. Warren was still busy practicing with the seventh-years, while on another side; Dumbledore was engaged with some professors from schools around the world. From far off, he could see some youngsters practicing different spells, which were useful in battle, on each other. Somehow by looking at all this brought a pang in Ron's heart.
Who would have thought that at such a young age that kids would be fighting alongside the greatest wizards in the world in destroying Voldemort? And yet, here he was along with Harry, his best friend and the Boy Who Lived, battling their way through survival. He suddenly realized that he was silent for too long, so he began, "Harry?"
"Hmm."
"What you thinking about?"
He sighed and pushed his glasses up. "Thinking about Ginny and how our life would be right now if I wasn't in this mess," he confessed lamely and ran his fingers through the smooth sand.
"Oh," Ron replied. So he wasn't the only one who thought about how life would be like if they weren't here right now. He suddenly found himself dozing off, while lazily fingering the compass, when all of sudden, someone gripped his shoulders tightly and starting shaking him awake.
"Go away" he grumbled, pushing the person away. "Let me rest."
"No, Ron. There isn't any time. It's an emergency," the voice answered urgently, as he continued to push him awake.
Ron's mind suddenly snapped open as he bolted up and glanced meaningfully at the disturber. "What is it?" he asked Harry.
Harry's voice was almost inaudible. "It's begun."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**************************~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
People were screaming incantations, people were dying after each curse struck, people were struggling to reach safety, but Ron didn't have any concern for them. He needed to find Harry. Fighting his way against the crowd that was heading in his direction as the Death Eaters continued to attack, Ron struggled to look for Harry or even Dumbledore for that matter.
When he'd got stuck up while trying to get rid of a herd of Dementors, he'd somehow lost contact with Harry. He quickened his pace and started to call out his name, but was met with no response. Night was falling and it was difficult to make out any figure. Muttering, "Lumos," his wand lit up, allowing him a clear look of his path.
He had been walking for quite some time before he finally found Harry and Dumbledore fighting side-by-side against…Voldemort. He took in a deep breath as he got his first glimpse of the Dark Lord. Harry had provided him with details, but he'd never actually formed a proper picture. But, now after seeing him for the first time, Ron suddenly realized how scared Harry must have felt at the age of 14, coming face-to-face with him. Ron wanted to stop in his tracks and turn back, but his feet had other plans. All he knew was that he was screaming, "Harry!"
Harry turned away from Voldemort, and their eyes met. "Ron, get back," he yelled, when taking opportunity of his diversion, Voldemort aimed a blow at him. Harry flew back at least five feet and landed in a heap at the ground, unconscious.
"Harry, no," Ron cried, rushing to his side. "You okay?" he asked anxiously as he helped a shaky Harry to his feet.
"Think so," he muttered. He still seemed to be in a state of shock, when he remembered, "Dumbledore," he gasped. Grabbing Ron's hand, he pulled him along towards Dumbledore and Voldemort, who were busy saying their final words to each other.
"Any last words, Albus?" Voldemort hissed, as Nagini wrapped herself around his shoulders. He held two wands in his hands, his and Dumbledore's.
"Oh no," Ron moaned.
"You won't get away with this, Tom," Dumbledore answered, almost coolly.
Voldemort smiled maliciously, his eyes gleaming with anger. "Oh yes I can, Albus. With you gone there will be no one who can stop me killing off Potter, here. Without you, the entire wizarding world is at a loss." He raised his wand. "Good bye, Albus Dumbledore."
"No," Ron screamed, but he wasn't the only one who yelled the next incantation. His voice blended with Harry's, as they both moved in front of Dumbledore and shielding him against Voldemort's curse, they yelled together, "Avada Kedavra." There was a bright flash of green light before Ron's eyes and everything went black.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**********************~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ron awoke with a start and groaned. His entire body was aching from the previous blows and curses he'd received during the war. Moaning again, he tried to get up, but it was met with no avail. Blackness was completely around him, even when he opened his eyes. He then realized what had happened; he was wearing a blindfold. He tried moving his arms but they were tied up as well. Cursing under his breath, he made himself sit up in an upright position and bumped into another breathing figure.
"Hey," he said, apparently shocked. "Who's there?"
"Ron, is that you?"
"Harry?"
Harry breathed a sigh of relief; upon knowing Ron was with him, as well. "Yes, it's me. Do you have any idea where we are?"
"Absolutely no clue. Are your eyes blindfolded as well?"
"Yes."
Ron groaned. He was tired, hungry, cold, blindfolded and apparently wandless. At this rate, they were two helpless blind boys, who had no clue where they were or any idea how long they had been tied up.
"Harry, how long have we been here?"
He was just about to reply, when there came the pounding of hurried footsteps, which increasingly became louder and louder until they came to a halt near them.
"Open the door," a cold voice instructed.
There was a sound of rustling of the keys and the door swung open. Ron held his breath as the newcomers entered the room.
"Take off their blindfolds," the deathly voice commanded. Ron felt the presence of an intruder near him, as he started to take off his blindfolds. He struggled against his reach, and was immediately received with a cuff on the ear. He sucked in his breath as the blindfold was removed from his eyes. Shielding against the uncustomary light, his sharp blue eyes quickly made out a short figure wearing a hood standing before them.
"Who are you and what are we doing here?" Ron demanded.
The hooded man smiled from underneath the hood, revealing a row of unusually white teeth. "The question, Mr. Weasley, is not what are you doing here. It is why you are here?"
"How did you know I'm a Weasley?" he questioned angrily. He didn't trust this man one bit.
"Judging from the color of your hair, I can strictly assume that you are one. Isn't that correct, Mr. Potter?"
Harry glared at him. He wanted to spit in his face, even though he had know idea what he had done wrong. And yet, the man seemed strangely familiar, but he couldn't make the connection quick enough, since his mind was in a haze. So he repeated Ron's question. "Who are you?"
"Funny, you should ask that," the man replied, turning away from them, causing his cloak to swish in their faces. "I would have thought you'd recognize me from the last time we'd met."
"Which would have been?"
"Three years ago," the man answered.
"Well, I don't know you, so would you please let us go," Ron pleaded anxiously.
The man, however, ignored his comments. "Maybe this will help you," he stated slowly, and much to their surprise, he lifted off his cloak from his head, so they could get a clear look at his face. With that, he also revealed to them his metallic arm.
"Pettigrew," Harry gasped.
Peter Pettigrew, servant to the Dark Lord, smiled at him. "Yes, Harry. It is I."
"What are you doing here?" Ron remarked, completely astonished.
"I would think that you would know the answer to that question," he replied, deathly calm.
"Why weren't you fighting with the rest of the Death Eaters and Dementors?" Ron queried.
"My master didn't think he needed me. I had much more important matters to deal with," he informed them.
"Yea, like staying out of trouble," Ron murmured out of the corner of his mouth, while Harry snorted.
Pettigrew inhaled deeply and took such a sudden step towards them, that Ron backed away slightly. Lowering his body towards his face, he hissed, "Laugh now, Weasley, but when my master finds out that I've captured the famous Harry Potter and his sidekick, Ronald Weasley, then we'll see who'll laugh."
"What's the matter, Scabbers? Scared to say your own master's name. What's wrong with saying Voldemort? Too afraid of inflicting humiliation on the Dark Lord?" Ron shot back. He instantly regretted saying that, for at that moment, Pettigrew raised his metallic hand and slapped him across the face.
"Hey," Harry yelled angrily. Yelling at them was acceptable. Inflicting pain on his friend was totally inappropriate.
"And you, Potter. I suggest you behave around me or you're going to end up just like your father did," Peter said, spraying him with spit. He got up to his full height and glowered at his captives.
"When my master returns, he will be extremely pleased at what I've done."
"Your master's probably behind the bars an Azkaban prison cell right now. Dumbledore wouldn't have wasted any time in doing so," Harry remarked furiously. Ron was still seething after the blow he'd received and across his freckled cheek a huge bruise was forming.
Peter sighed. "True." He started to walk towards the door, closely followed by his companion, who'd remained hidden in the shadow. Once he reached the entrance, however, he stopped and turned towards them. "But let's just say, this is an Azkaban for you and this place won't get any better." With that, he flicked out his wand, mumbled a quick spell and they were free. Taking advantage of this opportunity, Ron lunged for him, but he'd already disappeared.
"That son of a-" Ron stopped mid-air in his curse, and sat back down.
"Cursing won't get us anywhere, Ron," Harry reminded him.
"Thanks for that little advice, Harry," Ron replied sarcastically.
Harry shrugged his shoulders. Ron was obviously in a bad mood, and his bruise wasn't helping either. He heard Ron say, "I wish I had my wand."
Startled at this sudden comment, Harry quickly shot his hands into his pockets, in sheer desperation of finding his wand. It was met with no avail. "Shit. Peter has our wands."
"Wow, Harry. Whoopee-do! Took you long enough to realize that we're apparently wandless."
"Shut up, Ron."
"Likewise."
The two boys grinned at each other. No matter what would happen, they would remain the best of friends.
"Did they take anything besides your wand?" Harry asked.
"No, I don't think-oh, bloody hell," Ron remarked. He hurriedly searched into his pockets.
"What're you looking for?"
"This," he replied and held up the compass Hermione had given him.
"Oh," Harry said slowly. He waited as Ron opened it and looked at the picture, lost in thought. He was happy his two friends were finally together, but he just wished he had a memory of Ginny to hold onto.
"Hey Ron."
"Yea."
"What do you think Dumbledore told Hermione and Ginny about our disappearance?"
He looked up from the photograph, a small smile creeping on his face. He seemed to be in thought, when he shrugged his shoulders. "No idea. I wonder how Hermione would react after we don't turn up."
Harry was about to state his own opinion about what Hermione would say, when the door to their room opened and a stooped figure came inside, carrying a small tray. Scrambling to their feet, Ron said in what he hoped to be a calm voice, "What do you want?"
The figure trembled; he wasn't much like his master. "I came to give you food." He gently placed the tray down, which had two pieces of meager-looking bread and a bowl of soup. As he was placing it down, Ron looked at Harry over his shoulders. Their eyes met and Harry knew what he was thinking. Without a second thought, Harry grabbed the weak man's shoulders and pushed him against the wall. Ron dug into the stranger's pockets, pulled out a small sharp knife and placed it against his throat.
The stranger's lower lip trembled. "Please don't hurt me. I'm merely obeying orders," he whimpered.
"We're not going to hurt you," Harry murmured in his ear, gripping his shoulders firmly. "We just want to ask you a few questions. You think you can answer them." The stranger nodded his head mutely.
"Good. Now how long have we been here?" Ron inquired.
"Three days."
"Where are we?"
"I'm afraid I can't tell you. My master would kill me if he found out I'd betrayed him."
"Look he won't find out. Now can you please tell us where we are?" Ron continued, as he threateningly dug the blade deeper into his skin. The stranger shut his eyes and shook his head.
Ron cursed slightly. "Damn you. If you don't tell, I swear I'll put this knife into your goddamn throat."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Mr. Weasley," a voice spoke up from behind him.
Harry released his hold over the stranger and stumbling away from Ron, he cowered behind Peter, who had brought with him many more people, whose faces were hidden beneath their hoods.
"You're back," Ron spat bitterly.
Peter smiled at him. "You're going to be seeing me for quite sometime. Might as well get used to it."
"You know people will start looking for us," Harry pointed out.
Peter continued to smile through his reply. "It has already been confirmed that both of you are dead. There has already been a funeral for the two of you at Hogwarts."
"What?" Harry shrieked, taking a step forward.
"You don't believe me. And I must say, you two have a remarkable taste in women."
"You stay the hell away from Hermione, or I'll-" Ron's face was a mixture of anger and fury.
"You'll do what, Mr. Weasley. Kill me?" Peter's pointed eyes were fixated upon the redhead's.
Ron took in a deep breath and stole a glance at Harry, who shook his head. He knew he shouldn't mess with Peter, so he murmured, "Nothing."
"Good," Peter clapped his hands. He turned to the people around him. "Get Mr. Potter and take him to the other wing."
"What?" Ron yelled, making a grab for Harry, but the hooded men had already gripped Harry's arms tightly.
"Where are you taking him?" he demanded.
"Away from you," the hooded figure stated coldly.
"Mr. Weasley, upon my master's orders, I have been told to keep you and Mr. Potter in separate rooms," Peter informed him, as they started to lead him away.
"No you can't take him. I'm supposed to protect him," Ron declared, both the door was already closed shut.
Ron started to pound his fists on the door, but was totally ignored. Once his fists were completely smeared with blood, he fell to the ground, sobbing. Who would have thought that his life would end up like this?" Leaning his head against the door, he cried himself to sleep.
~*~*~*~*
FOUR YEARS LATER…
"Never ever do that again," Conner yelled, slapping a blow across Harry's face. Harry winced as he received yet another blow, in an attempt to escape. After four years of torture and pain, he'd had enough. Conner, the guard to his prison cell, had been handing him his food, when he'd grabbed his arm and twisted it. Thus, a fight had ensued and he was positive he was forming a black eye. Once Conner left, he crawled to the side of the cell, and knocked tentatively on the wall.
"Ron, you there?" he whispered yet audible enough for him to hear.
"I'm here, all right," Ron replied, limping towards the wall and slumping against the wall. "You okay, Harry?"
"Not really. What day is it today?" Harry inquired through the barrier that prevented them from seeing each other.
Ron turned to face the wall that he'd covered with tallies that indicated what day it was. "It's a Thursday, Harry." He grinned to himself, remembering how he and Harry had found out that even though Pettigrew had told them they would be as far away as possible, they'd ended up directly next to each other.
"Oh." Harry seemed distracted, and was about to ask what was wrong when his door swung open. "Weasley, get up. You can join Potter now," Davies, his own guard announced.
Ron stood up awkwardly; his foot was aching since the devastating kick he'd received from Davies, when he'd refused to cooperate. Limping towards him, Davies wrapped the blindfold around his eyes and led him out. After a long walk, even though the room was right next-door, Ron was shoved into Harry's cell and locked up, while Conner stayed on guard.
"Wow," Ron gasped in amazement at Harry's black eye. "What happened?"
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Isn't it obvious?"
Ron smirked at him and joined him on the bench that was in his cell. "Conner again?"
"Who else?" Harry sighed and leaned his head against the wall. "How's your leg?"
"Bit better. Still have that terrible limp though." They started to talk to one another, occasionally bringing the past into their conversation. It had been four years since they'd seen anyone new and they would often make predictions to what profession each of their classmates would be doing once they'd graduated. But they would never bring up Hermione or Ginny's name; it was just too painful. Nonetheless, day became night and Ron was about to fall asleep, when Harry nudged his shoulder.
"Go away Harry," he mumbled and faced the wall.
"Ron, be quiet. Wake up quickly," Harry insisted.
Ron groaned and turned to face his disturber. Honestly, Harry was always disturbing his beauty sleep. "What is it, Harry?"
Harry gestured towards Conner, who was apparently fast asleep. "He's asleep," Ron whispered.
Harry rolled his eyes. "No surprise there, but look at his pockets." Ron's eyes left his face and traveled down to his bulging robe pockets. Out of his pockets was dangling…"My wand," he gasped.
"And mine," Harry added, leaning forward excitedly. He turned to the redhead, his emerald eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Think we can reach it?"
Ron stared at the boy who'd grown up to be a young man in front of his very eyes. In fact, both of them had matured greatly over the past four years, but they'd never really acknowledged the fact that they'd changed over the years. But now, taking advantage of his size, Ron replied, "Yep."
Very slowly, Ron approached the bar and stretched his arm through the bars. Harry cautiously joined him and watched as Ron's long arm very tentatively reached towards Conner's pockets. Ron grimaced slightly. He was sure that after he got the wands his arm would surely fall off. He slowly stood up on his tiptoes and leaned slightly further. His fingertips were groping empty space, when his fingers closed over the wands.
"Yes Ron," Harry whispered happily, pumping his fist in the air. Ron grinned in spite of the dangerous situation he was in and slowly started to reel in his arm. Conner snorted and mumbled to himself, causing him to stifle a snicker. He was going to have more to celebrate with as well. They had their wands.
"Finally," Harry cheered, gripping his wand tightly. "Oh, how I missed you."
Ron shook his head. His best friend was rather attached to his precious wand. But, there were more important things to do. "Let's get the hell out of here," he stated, fingering his wand.
Harry grinned at him. "Let's." Together they raised their wands and quietly chanted, "Alahomora." The prison cell door swung open and very carefully tiptoed past Conner and headed towards freedom.
But when they left Harry's room, however, they were met with an even bigger surprise.
"Harry, why does this place look strangely familiar?" Ron queried softly.
Harry looked around at his surroundings in shock. He hadn't been here in a long time. "Ron, it's the Shrieking Shack," he whispered.
"We've been so close to the wizarding world and we never knew it," Ron muttered, slapping his forehead in frustration.
"Well, let's not waste anytime. C'mon." They quickened their pace and started moving down the hallway, in search of an exit. But they didn't meet an exit. Instead, they came face-to-face with Peter Pettigrew.
"Going somewhere?" he asked maliciously.
Harry glared at him. "You've kept us for long enough, Peter and we're through from this place. You can't stop us now."
"Oh can't I?" Peter clapped his hands and from far above came a deep rumbling.
Ron smirked at him. "You've forgotten that we have our wands now." He held his up and dangled it in front of his face.
Peter's face paled slightly, but he quickly regained his composure and declared, "Well, in that case, there's only one thing left to do." Saying so, he pulled out his own wand. "Let's duel."
Pretty soon they were engaged in a deep battle against Peter. Despite the fact, that he was small, he was quite quick and knew more spells than the amount they knew together. Finally, exhausted, Ron felt himself giving up and received a huge blow, when Peter pointed his wand at him. He went flying and landed in a heap. Coughing, he stood up and brushed away the dirt in his eyes. He blearily made out Harry and Peter facing each other, both having the exact same expressions on their faces, to kill.
"Looks like it's just you and me, Potter," Wormtail hissed.
"I should have killed you when I had the chance," Harry replied stonily.
"Well, that won't happen, because I'm going to kill you first," Wormtail pointed his wand and was about to chant the unforgivable curse, when Ron intercepted and yelled the first spell he could think of, "Obliviate."
At that moment, Ron was hit with such a huge amount of force that he felt as though he was on fire. The next thing he knew, he was stumbling and then everything went black.
***
CHAPTER XV: RETELLING THE PAST
Ron didn't know how to react but to just wrap his arms around the person who gave him a huge hug. It seemed that the minute Hermione had helped him up; everyone seemed to have attacked him, hoping for a chance to give him a hug. Tears were flowing from everyone's eyes, while people kept shooting him with questions. But, he was too numb to respond; his mind wasn't working quite well at the moment.
All he was aware of, however, was that he refused to release his grip over Hermione's hand, and she wasn't showing any indications of wanting to let go of him. Thus, whenever a new person would come to greet him, he would hug them, while gripping tightly onto her hand. But, when Harry came to meet him, his face was streaked with tears, and the very sight of him brought such a strong feeling to Ron that he didn't want to let go of Harry, who was closely followed by an equally grief-stricken Ginny.
"It's good to see you, mate," Harry mumbled in his ear, while they embraced warmly.
"Same to you," Ron whispered back.
"Ron, would you like anything?" Dumbledore inquired politely. Ron looked at him dazed as if seeing him for the first time.
"No thank you, Professor Dumbledore. I really don't feel like drinking anything right now," Ron replied, while sinking into a chair and pulling Hermione into the chair next to him. She smiled at him reassuringly, causing shivers to run up his spine. It seemed like ages ago since he'd last kissed those full lips and he was eager to do it again.
But, there was something that had to be done before he could spend some time alone with her, for just then the supposed Minister of Magic declared, "Good, Mr. Weasley. If you are ready and fully recovered, the world, including myself would like to know where you and Mr. Potter have been for the past five years."
"Five years?" Ron echoed and glanced at Harry. "You didn't tell them what happened to us?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at him.
Harry shook his head. "I thought it would be best if you'd wake up and then we'd tell."
Ron smiled to himself. Typical Harry behavior! Leave the talking to Mr. Weasley. Well, in that case, there was no time to lose. Taking a deep breath, and squeezing Hermione's hand tightly, just to remember that she was at his side, Ron began his story.
~*~*~*~*
FIVE YEARS AGO…
Ron ducked expertly as Harry threw his spear at him, during battle training. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his own knife and started to lash at Harry with such determination and skill, it would be hard to believe that they were only 17-years-old, merely helping experienced wizards and fighters in defeating the Dark side. Harry didn't think twice. Grabbing his wrist, he twisted his arm and shoved him to the ground. Ron groaned as he fell, while the rest of the audience cheered at the magnificent display of fighting.
Harry grinned at him and offered him a hand. "You okay there, Ron?" he asked anxiously, yet with a hint of smugness.
Ron smirked back at him. He would get even with him all right. "Sure I am. Thanks for asking." Saying so, he accepted his offered hand and with all his force, pulled him down as well.
The crowd of young boys laughed, while their instructor, Warren clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "This isn't a time of playing around, boys. You should be worried about what'll happen if they do attack."
"Awww c'mon, Warren. Give us a break. We've been training for the past six weeks," Ron complained, as he stood up, wiping off the droplets of sweat forming on the back of his neck.
"Still," Warren replied firmly. "You need all the practice you can get. Now the both of you go clean up while I deal with the next pair. Thomas, Finnigan. You're up." Harry and Ron gathered their things and headed for the lake, where they would go to freshen up.
"Heard from Hermione lately?" Harry queried, splashing water on his face.
Ron nodded his head as he dove off a rock. His red hair gleaming, he surfaced to the top and began, "Hermione wrote to me a couple days ago. I'm expecting a letter any minute."
Harry grinned, as Ron sank back into the bottom. When he resurfaced, his broad chest gleaming in the sunlight, Harry continued, "How is she?"
Ron sighed dreamily and floated on his back. "She's fine. She was just telling me how she finished yet another book in the library. Honestly, she finds time to do everything." He sighed again and swam towards the bank. "I guess that's just one of the reasons I love her," he murmured as he lay down on the sand.
Harry smiled to himself as he joined him. "You must really love her," he remarked softly as he crossed his arms behind his head and lay down.
"Yea, I do." Ron rolled over and digging in his robes for at least an eternity, he pulled out the compass Hermione had given him before he'd left. He unclasped the lock and gazed at the lovely picture inside. God, how he loved that face…that simple yet wonderful face. He must have been looking at it for too long for Harry cleared his throat. "Ahem."
Ron looked at him, with a dazed expression on his face. "You've forgotten that I'm still here," he reminded him.
Ron's face cleared and gave a small laugh. "Don't worry mate. Just had to look at her face for some time."
They were quiet for a while, as everyone around them, remained absorbed in their own little activities. Warren was still busy practicing with the seventh-years, while on another side; Dumbledore was engaged with some professors from schools around the world. From far off, he could see some youngsters practicing different spells, which were useful in battle, on each other. Somehow by looking at all this brought a pang in Ron's heart.
Who would have thought that at such a young age that kids would be fighting alongside the greatest wizards in the world in destroying Voldemort? And yet, here he was along with Harry, his best friend and the Boy Who Lived, battling their way through survival. He suddenly realized that he was silent for too long, so he began, "Harry?"
"Hmm."
"What you thinking about?"
He sighed and pushed his glasses up. "Thinking about Ginny and how our life would be right now if I wasn't in this mess," he confessed lamely and ran his fingers through the smooth sand.
"Oh," Ron replied. So he wasn't the only one who thought about how life would be like if they weren't here right now. He suddenly found himself dozing off, while lazily fingering the compass, when all of sudden, someone gripped his shoulders tightly and starting shaking him awake.
"Go away" he grumbled, pushing the person away. "Let me rest."
"No, Ron. There isn't any time. It's an emergency," the voice answered urgently, as he continued to push him awake.
Ron's mind suddenly snapped open as he bolted up and glanced meaningfully at the disturber. "What is it?" he asked Harry.
Harry's voice was almost inaudible. "It's begun."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**************************~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
People were screaming incantations, people were dying after each curse struck, people were struggling to reach safety, but Ron didn't have any concern for them. He needed to find Harry. Fighting his way against the crowd that was heading in his direction as the Death Eaters continued to attack, Ron struggled to look for Harry or even Dumbledore for that matter.
When he'd got stuck up while trying to get rid of a herd of Dementors, he'd somehow lost contact with Harry. He quickened his pace and started to call out his name, but was met with no response. Night was falling and it was difficult to make out any figure. Muttering, "Lumos," his wand lit up, allowing him a clear look of his path.
He had been walking for quite some time before he finally found Harry and Dumbledore fighting side-by-side against…Voldemort. He took in a deep breath as he got his first glimpse of the Dark Lord. Harry had provided him with details, but he'd never actually formed a proper picture. But, now after seeing him for the first time, Ron suddenly realized how scared Harry must have felt at the age of 14, coming face-to-face with him. Ron wanted to stop in his tracks and turn back, but his feet had other plans. All he knew was that he was screaming, "Harry!"
Harry turned away from Voldemort, and their eyes met. "Ron, get back," he yelled, when taking opportunity of his diversion, Voldemort aimed a blow at him. Harry flew back at least five feet and landed in a heap at the ground, unconscious.
"Harry, no," Ron cried, rushing to his side. "You okay?" he asked anxiously as he helped a shaky Harry to his feet.
"Think so," he muttered. He still seemed to be in a state of shock, when he remembered, "Dumbledore," he gasped. Grabbing Ron's hand, he pulled him along towards Dumbledore and Voldemort, who were busy saying their final words to each other.
"Any last words, Albus?" Voldemort hissed, as Nagini wrapped herself around his shoulders. He held two wands in his hands, his and Dumbledore's.
"Oh no," Ron moaned.
"You won't get away with this, Tom," Dumbledore answered, almost coolly.
Voldemort smiled maliciously, his eyes gleaming with anger. "Oh yes I can, Albus. With you gone there will be no one who can stop me killing off Potter, here. Without you, the entire wizarding world is at a loss." He raised his wand. "Good bye, Albus Dumbledore."
"No," Ron screamed, but he wasn't the only one who yelled the next incantation. His voice blended with Harry's, as they both moved in front of Dumbledore and shielding him against Voldemort's curse, they yelled together, "Avada Kedavra." There was a bright flash of green light before Ron's eyes and everything went black.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**********************~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ron awoke with a start and groaned. His entire body was aching from the previous blows and curses he'd received during the war. Moaning again, he tried to get up, but it was met with no avail. Blackness was completely around him, even when he opened his eyes. He then realized what had happened; he was wearing a blindfold. He tried moving his arms but they were tied up as well. Cursing under his breath, he made himself sit up in an upright position and bumped into another breathing figure.
"Hey," he said, apparently shocked. "Who's there?"
"Ron, is that you?"
"Harry?"
Harry breathed a sigh of relief; upon knowing Ron was with him, as well. "Yes, it's me. Do you have any idea where we are?"
"Absolutely no clue. Are your eyes blindfolded as well?"
"Yes."
Ron groaned. He was tired, hungry, cold, blindfolded and apparently wandless. At this rate, they were two helpless blind boys, who had no clue where they were or any idea how long they had been tied up.
"Harry, how long have we been here?"
He was just about to reply, when there came the pounding of hurried footsteps, which increasingly became louder and louder until they came to a halt near them.
"Open the door," a cold voice instructed.
There was a sound of rustling of the keys and the door swung open. Ron held his breath as the newcomers entered the room.
"Take off their blindfolds," the deathly voice commanded. Ron felt the presence of an intruder near him, as he started to take off his blindfolds. He struggled against his reach, and was immediately received with a cuff on the ear. He sucked in his breath as the blindfold was removed from his eyes. Shielding against the uncustomary light, his sharp blue eyes quickly made out a short figure wearing a hood standing before them.
"Who are you and what are we doing here?" Ron demanded.
The hooded man smiled from underneath the hood, revealing a row of unusually white teeth. "The question, Mr. Weasley, is not what are you doing here. It is why you are here?"
"How did you know I'm a Weasley?" he questioned angrily. He didn't trust this man one bit.
"Judging from the color of your hair, I can strictly assume that you are one. Isn't that correct, Mr. Potter?"
Harry glared at him. He wanted to spit in his face, even though he had know idea what he had done wrong. And yet, the man seemed strangely familiar, but he couldn't make the connection quick enough, since his mind was in a haze. So he repeated Ron's question. "Who are you?"
"Funny, you should ask that," the man replied, turning away from them, causing his cloak to swish in their faces. "I would have thought you'd recognize me from the last time we'd met."
"Which would have been?"
"Three years ago," the man answered.
"Well, I don't know you, so would you please let us go," Ron pleaded anxiously.
The man, however, ignored his comments. "Maybe this will help you," he stated slowly, and much to their surprise, he lifted off his cloak from his head, so they could get a clear look at his face. With that, he also revealed to them his metallic arm.
"Pettigrew," Harry gasped.
Peter Pettigrew, servant to the Dark Lord, smiled at him. "Yes, Harry. It is I."
"What are you doing here?" Ron remarked, completely astonished.
"I would think that you would know the answer to that question," he replied, deathly calm.
"Why weren't you fighting with the rest of the Death Eaters and Dementors?" Ron queried.
"My master didn't think he needed me. I had much more important matters to deal with," he informed them.
"Yea, like staying out of trouble," Ron murmured out of the corner of his mouth, while Harry snorted.
Pettigrew inhaled deeply and took such a sudden step towards them, that Ron backed away slightly. Lowering his body towards his face, he hissed, "Laugh now, Weasley, but when my master finds out that I've captured the famous Harry Potter and his sidekick, Ronald Weasley, then we'll see who'll laugh."
"What's the matter, Scabbers? Scared to say your own master's name. What's wrong with saying Voldemort? Too afraid of inflicting humiliation on the Dark Lord?" Ron shot back. He instantly regretted saying that, for at that moment, Pettigrew raised his metallic hand and slapped him across the face.
"Hey," Harry yelled angrily. Yelling at them was acceptable. Inflicting pain on his friend was totally inappropriate.
"And you, Potter. I suggest you behave around me or you're going to end up just like your father did," Peter said, spraying him with spit. He got up to his full height and glowered at his captives.
"When my master returns, he will be extremely pleased at what I've done."
"Your master's probably behind the bars an Azkaban prison cell right now. Dumbledore wouldn't have wasted any time in doing so," Harry remarked furiously. Ron was still seething after the blow he'd received and across his freckled cheek a huge bruise was forming.
Peter sighed. "True." He started to walk towards the door, closely followed by his companion, who'd remained hidden in the shadow. Once he reached the entrance, however, he stopped and turned towards them. "But let's just say, this is an Azkaban for you and this place won't get any better." With that, he flicked out his wand, mumbled a quick spell and they were free. Taking advantage of this opportunity, Ron lunged for him, but he'd already disappeared.
"That son of a-" Ron stopped mid-air in his curse, and sat back down.
"Cursing won't get us anywhere, Ron," Harry reminded him.
"Thanks for that little advice, Harry," Ron replied sarcastically.
Harry shrugged his shoulders. Ron was obviously in a bad mood, and his bruise wasn't helping either. He heard Ron say, "I wish I had my wand."
Startled at this sudden comment, Harry quickly shot his hands into his pockets, in sheer desperation of finding his wand. It was met with no avail. "Shit. Peter has our wands."
"Wow, Harry. Whoopee-do! Took you long enough to realize that we're apparently wandless."
"Shut up, Ron."
"Likewise."
The two boys grinned at each other. No matter what would happen, they would remain the best of friends.
"Did they take anything besides your wand?" Harry asked.
"No, I don't think-oh, bloody hell," Ron remarked. He hurriedly searched into his pockets.
"What're you looking for?"
"This," he replied and held up the compass Hermione had given him.
"Oh," Harry said slowly. He waited as Ron opened it and looked at the picture, lost in thought. He was happy his two friends were finally together, but he just wished he had a memory of Ginny to hold onto.
"Hey Ron."
"Yea."
"What do you think Dumbledore told Hermione and Ginny about our disappearance?"
He looked up from the photograph, a small smile creeping on his face. He seemed to be in thought, when he shrugged his shoulders. "No idea. I wonder how Hermione would react after we don't turn up."
Harry was about to state his own opinion about what Hermione would say, when the door to their room opened and a stooped figure came inside, carrying a small tray. Scrambling to their feet, Ron said in what he hoped to be a calm voice, "What do you want?"
The figure trembled; he wasn't much like his master. "I came to give you food." He gently placed the tray down, which had two pieces of meager-looking bread and a bowl of soup. As he was placing it down, Ron looked at Harry over his shoulders. Their eyes met and Harry knew what he was thinking. Without a second thought, Harry grabbed the weak man's shoulders and pushed him against the wall. Ron dug into the stranger's pockets, pulled out a small sharp knife and placed it against his throat.
The stranger's lower lip trembled. "Please don't hurt me. I'm merely obeying orders," he whimpered.
"We're not going to hurt you," Harry murmured in his ear, gripping his shoulders firmly. "We just want to ask you a few questions. You think you can answer them." The stranger nodded his head mutely.
"Good. Now how long have we been here?" Ron inquired.
"Three days."
"Where are we?"
"I'm afraid I can't tell you. My master would kill me if he found out I'd betrayed him."
"Look he won't find out. Now can you please tell us where we are?" Ron continued, as he threateningly dug the blade deeper into his skin. The stranger shut his eyes and shook his head.
Ron cursed slightly. "Damn you. If you don't tell, I swear I'll put this knife into your goddamn throat."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Mr. Weasley," a voice spoke up from behind him.
Harry released his hold over the stranger and stumbling away from Ron, he cowered behind Peter, who had brought with him many more people, whose faces were hidden beneath their hoods.
"You're back," Ron spat bitterly.
Peter smiled at him. "You're going to be seeing me for quite sometime. Might as well get used to it."
"You know people will start looking for us," Harry pointed out.
Peter continued to smile through his reply. "It has already been confirmed that both of you are dead. There has already been a funeral for the two of you at Hogwarts."
"What?" Harry shrieked, taking a step forward.
"You don't believe me. And I must say, you two have a remarkable taste in women."
"You stay the hell away from Hermione, or I'll-" Ron's face was a mixture of anger and fury.
"You'll do what, Mr. Weasley. Kill me?" Peter's pointed eyes were fixated upon the redhead's.
Ron took in a deep breath and stole a glance at Harry, who shook his head. He knew he shouldn't mess with Peter, so he murmured, "Nothing."
"Good," Peter clapped his hands. He turned to the people around him. "Get Mr. Potter and take him to the other wing."
"What?" Ron yelled, making a grab for Harry, but the hooded men had already gripped Harry's arms tightly.
"Where are you taking him?" he demanded.
"Away from you," the hooded figure stated coldly.
"Mr. Weasley, upon my master's orders, I have been told to keep you and Mr. Potter in separate rooms," Peter informed him, as they started to lead him away.
"No you can't take him. I'm supposed to protect him," Ron declared, both the door was already closed shut.
Ron started to pound his fists on the door, but was totally ignored. Once his fists were completely smeared with blood, he fell to the ground, sobbing. Who would have thought that his life would end up like this?" Leaning his head against the door, he cried himself to sleep.
~*~*~*~*
FOUR YEARS LATER…
"Never ever do that again," Conner yelled, slapping a blow across Harry's face. Harry winced as he received yet another blow, in an attempt to escape. After four years of torture and pain, he'd had enough. Conner, the guard to his prison cell, had been handing him his food, when he'd grabbed his arm and twisted it. Thus, a fight had ensued and he was positive he was forming a black eye. Once Conner left, he crawled to the side of the cell, and knocked tentatively on the wall.
"Ron, you there?" he whispered yet audible enough for him to hear.
"I'm here, all right," Ron replied, limping towards the wall and slumping against the wall. "You okay, Harry?"
"Not really. What day is it today?" Harry inquired through the barrier that prevented them from seeing each other.
Ron turned to face the wall that he'd covered with tallies that indicated what day it was. "It's a Thursday, Harry." He grinned to himself, remembering how he and Harry had found out that even though Pettigrew had told them they would be as far away as possible, they'd ended up directly next to each other.
"Oh." Harry seemed distracted, and was about to ask what was wrong when his door swung open. "Weasley, get up. You can join Potter now," Davies, his own guard announced.
Ron stood up awkwardly; his foot was aching since the devastating kick he'd received from Davies, when he'd refused to cooperate. Limping towards him, Davies wrapped the blindfold around his eyes and led him out. After a long walk, even though the room was right next-door, Ron was shoved into Harry's cell and locked up, while Conner stayed on guard.
"Wow," Ron gasped in amazement at Harry's black eye. "What happened?"
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Isn't it obvious?"
Ron smirked at him and joined him on the bench that was in his cell. "Conner again?"
"Who else?" Harry sighed and leaned his head against the wall. "How's your leg?"
"Bit better. Still have that terrible limp though." They started to talk to one another, occasionally bringing the past into their conversation. It had been four years since they'd seen anyone new and they would often make predictions to what profession each of their classmates would be doing once they'd graduated. But they would never bring up Hermione or Ginny's name; it was just too painful. Nonetheless, day became night and Ron was about to fall asleep, when Harry nudged his shoulder.
"Go away Harry," he mumbled and faced the wall.
"Ron, be quiet. Wake up quickly," Harry insisted.
Ron groaned and turned to face his disturber. Honestly, Harry was always disturbing his beauty sleep. "What is it, Harry?"
Harry gestured towards Conner, who was apparently fast asleep. "He's asleep," Ron whispered.
Harry rolled his eyes. "No surprise there, but look at his pockets." Ron's eyes left his face and traveled down to his bulging robe pockets. Out of his pockets was dangling…"My wand," he gasped.
"And mine," Harry added, leaning forward excitedly. He turned to the redhead, his emerald eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Think we can reach it?"
Ron stared at the boy who'd grown up to be a young man in front of his very eyes. In fact, both of them had matured greatly over the past four years, but they'd never really acknowledged the fact that they'd changed over the years. But now, taking advantage of his size, Ron replied, "Yep."
Very slowly, Ron approached the bar and stretched his arm through the bars. Harry cautiously joined him and watched as Ron's long arm very tentatively reached towards Conner's pockets. Ron grimaced slightly. He was sure that after he got the wands his arm would surely fall off. He slowly stood up on his tiptoes and leaned slightly further. His fingertips were groping empty space, when his fingers closed over the wands.
"Yes Ron," Harry whispered happily, pumping his fist in the air. Ron grinned in spite of the dangerous situation he was in and slowly started to reel in his arm. Conner snorted and mumbled to himself, causing him to stifle a snicker. He was going to have more to celebrate with as well. They had their wands.
"Finally," Harry cheered, gripping his wand tightly. "Oh, how I missed you."
Ron shook his head. His best friend was rather attached to his precious wand. But, there were more important things to do. "Let's get the hell out of here," he stated, fingering his wand.
Harry grinned at him. "Let's." Together they raised their wands and quietly chanted, "Alahomora." The prison cell door swung open and very carefully tiptoed past Conner and headed towards freedom.
But when they left Harry's room, however, they were met with an even bigger surprise.
"Harry, why does this place look strangely familiar?" Ron queried softly.
Harry looked around at his surroundings in shock. He hadn't been here in a long time. "Ron, it's the Shrieking Shack," he whispered.
"We've been so close to the wizarding world and we never knew it," Ron muttered, slapping his forehead in frustration.
"Well, let's not waste anytime. C'mon." They quickened their pace and started moving down the hallway, in search of an exit. But they didn't meet an exit. Instead, they came face-to-face with Peter Pettigrew.
"Going somewhere?" he asked maliciously.
Harry glared at him. "You've kept us for long enough, Peter and we're through from this place. You can't stop us now."
"Oh can't I?" Peter clapped his hands and from far above came a deep rumbling.
Ron smirked at him. "You've forgotten that we have our wands now." He held his up and dangled it in front of his face.
Peter's face paled slightly, but he quickly regained his composure and declared, "Well, in that case, there's only one thing left to do." Saying so, he pulled out his own wand. "Let's duel."
Pretty soon they were engaged in a deep battle against Peter. Despite the fact, that he was small, he was quite quick and knew more spells than the amount they knew together. Finally, exhausted, Ron felt himself giving up and received a huge blow, when Peter pointed his wand at him. He went flying and landed in a heap. Coughing, he stood up and brushed away the dirt in his eyes. He blearily made out Harry and Peter facing each other, both having the exact same expressions on their faces, to kill.
"Looks like it's just you and me, Potter," Wormtail hissed.
"I should have killed you when I had the chance," Harry replied stonily.
"Well, that won't happen, because I'm going to kill you first," Wormtail pointed his wand and was about to chant the unforgivable curse, when Ron intercepted and yelled the first spell he could think of, "Obliviate."
At that moment, Ron was hit with such a huge amount of force that he felt as though he was on fire. The next thing he knew, he was stumbling and then everything went black.
***