Ron Weasley and the Armor of Gryffindor

by Gawaine

COMPLETE. A Year-Six epic fic. Ron will soon realize that he has a chance to be a hero in the fight against Voldemort, but will his new responsibility come with a cost?

3. Class in Session

Ronald Weasley and the Armor of Gryffindor

Chapter Three : Class In Session

blithwapping:
 Using anything BUT a hammer to hammer a
 nail into the wall, such as shoes, lamp bases,
 doorstops, etc.
	-- "Sniglets", Rich Hall & Friends

Dumbledore's speech was almost the same as the year before, which amazed Ron. It sounded like trips to Hogsmeade would still be considered, and there was the promise of more Quidditch games. The Forest was still forbidden, and old Filch was still a stick in the mud, and, oh yes, it was important that everyone pull together to stop a homicidal maniac from killing them all.

Dumbledore's introduction of the new faculty was short, and not too surprising, since they'd already met the year's Dark Arts teacher on the train. Most of the other changes were in some of the elective courses; Firenze would be teaching the NEWT level Divination classes, which Ron and Harry had decided they could do without. New electives were being offered to NEWT level students, based on their career interests. A new teacher, Ding Lin, would be teaching medical courses, while curse breaking was going to be taught by Fleur Delacour, when she wasn't on duty at Gringott's.

Ron's eyes grew wide when Fleur's name was announced. That hadn't come up in the Hogwarts letter or the Prefect's meeting. He was pretty sure that he would have noticed it, even as distracted as he was by some of the other items in the letter.

The thought of that -- this year's Hogwarts letter, and the news that it had held -- made his eyes mist over. He'd known that they would need a new Gryffindor Quidditch captain this year, but he had just assumed that it would be Harry. When he got the news that McGonagall had chosen him; well, he hadn't even felt able to tell anyone, because he couldn't believe that it would happen.

Ron could feel Hermione's eyes burning into him, and he realized that he was almost drooling. He turned to her to make conversation, but she folded her arms and ignored him, looking at the person on her other side. What had he done this time?

She ignored him on the way back to the dormitories, as they led the first year students there, and didn't say a word to him the rest of the night.

Ron waited for her in the common room the next morning, hoping to at least walk down to breakfast with her. Harry was sleeping through breakfast -- he hadn't slept well, as usual, and just asked them to make sure he was up for class and to save him a roll. When Lavender came down, and saw Ron there, she snickered. "Hermione's already gone, Weasley. Would you like to walk down with me?" She fluttered her eyelids, and Ron had to choke down a laugh. She was so transparent.

"No, that's okay," he said. "Do you know if Ginny's down yet?"

Lavender seemed annoyed at the question. "I don't know. I'm not in the same dormitory as her."

"I'm up!" Ginny called from upstairs. Ron wasn't sure how she'd heard him. She always had an uncanny knack to know when she was being discussed, probably a side effect of sharing a house with seven brothers.

He waited for her to run down the stairs. She looked around him. "Where's Harry?"

Ron hid his smirk. Apparently the Harry Potter Fan Club was alive and well. "He's not coming down for breakfast." Her face fell. "Would you like to come down with me?"

"Sure." A few beats later. "Where's Hermione?"

"Apparently she went down ahead of us."

"Ouch! What did you do this time?" Ginny's tone was playful, but it cut into Ron.

Normally he might have bantered back, but he hunched his shoulders forward, looking down. "I'm not sure. It must have been something awful, but I don't know what I did wrong."

"Oh, Ron. Do you want me to talk to her for you?"

Ginny hadn't offered before. Usually, Harry acted as go between. He was probably getting sick of it, though. He also wasn't the right person for this, Ron thought. "If you could. I'm sure I did something really dumb, but I can't think of what it was."

"Well, you're probably right. You probably did something dumb."

"Gee, thanks, Ginny. Could you find out why she's mad at me? I'd like to know if she'll be speaking to me by her birthday or not, so I can decide if I should get her something."

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. "Just get her something anyway. If she's not speaking to you, you can save it for Christmas."

Ron didn't answer. Now that he'd reached the Great Hall, he had more urgent things to worry about. He saw that Hermione was still at the table, and rushed to the empty seat next to her.

"'Morning, Hermione."

She mumbled something back to him, and stood up, walking off. Ginny took the newly vacated seat. "You must have really done it this time, Ron."

He shrugged, and picked at his food. He didn't seem to have much of an appetite this morning.

Ginny didn't seem to have his problem. She was shoveling breakfast down like there was no lunch. After a few moments, though, she slowed. "Ron, are you alright?"

He shrugged again, and kept picking at the food. "I suppose. Nothing much to say."

"So, have you heard anything more about when we'll start Quidditch practices?" Ginny asked. "I haven't even heard who the new captain is." She had an innocent look on her face.

Ron flushed. "It'll be tough, with my detentions, but maybe we can start on Saturday morning? I'll try to get the patch booked."

"Shouldn't the captain take care of that?"

Ron nodded. He hadn't meant to let the news out piecemeal, but figured he might as well tell Ginny. After all, he didn't know when he'd get Harry and Hermione in the same room together, awake and talking.

"I was trying to keep it a secret," he started, but Ginny interrupted.

"I wondered when you were going to get around to telling me."

"You knew!"

She nodded. "I saw your Hogwarts letter. Sorry, I thought it was mine. I haven't told anyone yet, though."

Some people were starting to look interested in the conversation. Ron didn't want word to get back to Hermione or Harry without him telling them. "Not another word about it right now -- we can talk later."

She seemed to want to say more, but he just gathered up his things and hurried over to Madame Hooch's office to book the Quidditch patch.

As it happened, the patch was already booked for most of Saturday. Ron grumbled. Malfoy had beaten him to it -- there wasn't a Slytherin meeting scheduled for a single evening, but he'd managed to get every moment from dawn to dusk on Saturday.

Swearing, Ron penciled his team in before Malfoy's. If he was going to have to step into the shoes of Oliver and Angelica, he might as well start it out right. Practice at four in the bloody morning was certainly on the right track.

Turning from the book, he almost ran straight into Professor Kwikspell. She had a saccharine sweet smile on her face. The Professor's hair was layered and colored in different shades, from gold to red, and flipped up on both sides. He wondered just how much time she had to spend on it each day, but decided that wasn't his concern. Her robes were a simple black, but they were accented by black leather boots and matching gloves, which made the massive necklace that she wore that much more obvious.

"Professor Kwikspell?" he stuttered.

"Yes, Mister Weasley. I'm happy you remember me." She seemed to be waiting for something.

"Umm, see you in class?"

"Certainly. Don't forget detention tonight." Her smile seemed to grow even wider. Ron noticed that she had teeth that Hermione would envy, gleaming white and perfectly regular. He also noticed her face. He had seen statues with more blemishes. Those features might have added up to making someone attractive, but on her, they just made her seem unreal. The predatory smile might also have had something to do with it.

"Of course, Professor. See you later." He edged around her, and walked off. He had a feeling like she was staring through him, as if he had her complete attention. It was spooky. He felt like her eyes were still following him even when he entered the Great Hall again, and he almost forgot to go wake Harry.

The day's classes started with, of all things, double Potions with the Slytherins. Snape's ghastly smile greeted his students back. "Welcome, class, to my Advanced Potions class. Those of you who managed to complete your OWLs to my satisfaction last semester will probably be able to make it through this semester without any unpleasantness. However, those of you who merely managed an acceptable mark should probably consider a different elective." Ron could feel
Snape's gaze stop at him.

Ron wished he didn't have to take this course to be considered for Auror training. He couldn't see what good it was going to do him. It wasn't like he was likely to have time to brew anything in the field, so the excuse about needing to understand Antidotes just didn't seem realistic to him. He supposed it was just one of those things that schools did. At least Harry was here, for the same reason.

He didn't understand why Hermione was in the class. She hadn't said yet what she was going to do after Hogwarts, only that she wanted it to be something meaningful. Ron couldn't imagine taking Advanced Potions willingly. It was bad enough to take it while you had to, taking it when you could be doing something else didn't make any sense at all. He had thought that maybe she was just taking it to be near him and Harry, but she wasn't looking at either of them. Harry seemed oblivious to it, too involved in trying to work on today's difficult potion, but Ron couldn't keep from repeatedly glancing in her direction.

About half way through the lesson, the door opened. Snape grimaced, and interrupted the class' concentration by loudly clearing his throat. Ron barely got his dried newt powder in the caldron in time to prevent a disaster, and threw some into Harry's, as well, since his friend didn't seem likely to catch it in time.

"If I may have your attention, please, class," Snape spoke loudly, his nasal voice filling the room. "I would like you all to meet a special guest." The corners of his mouth moved up, and it might have looked like a smile if the rest of his face had followed suit. The rest of his face, though, kept the same dark, sour expression that, if it could be bottled, might be sold as Essence of Snape.

In through the open door walked a very large man. He wasn't tall, at least compared to Ron, but he was both well muscled and stout. He didn't smile, but that made his face look more genuine for it.

Professor Snape cleared his throat again. "It is my pleasure to introduce Mr. Valentin Vrag of Bulgaria, here on behalf of his Ministry to help with an exchange of teaching methods."

Valentin held up a hand. "Please, continue," he spoke, his deep baritone voice echoing in the hall behind him. "I am only here to observe."

Without another word, Snape turned back to the class and continued with the lesson. He seemed to be standing straighter, though, and speaking more clearly. Ron actually managed to make it through the whole class without losing any House Points, and Neville's customary caldron explosion only earned him a grimace.

Ron and Harry left the class feeling happier than they had in a long time, but Hermione pushed her way past them, brushing up against Ron's arm in the process. Ron reached out and tried to hold her arm, but she flinched away, and kept walking.

Harry looked at Ron in astonishment. "What did you do now, chum?"

Ron shrugged. "Beats me. I can't remember doing anything worse than I've done before, though."

"Well, she'll probably forgive you eventually," Harry said confidently. "She always has before."

"Lets just hope it doesn't take tackling a troll this time," Ron said glumly.

"Where to next?" Harry asked, pulling out his schedule.

Ron's mood didn't improve. "Dark Arts."

Harry didn't seem to share Ron's lack of enthusiasm. "Great!"

"Harry, remember what I said about meeting the Professor? Somehow, I don't think this will be as fun as you're hoping."

"Ron, we've just got out of the best Potions class ever. Don't spoil the day."

"Harry, we just got out of the best Potions class ever," Ron mimicked. "Can you honestly expect the rest of the day to go better?"

Harry just laughed, but he didn't talk more about how well he expected the class to go.

When they got to the class, Hermione had already taken up a seat next to Dean Thomas. It looked like Dean was trying to strike up a conversation, but not succeeding very well. Hermione's bushy hair made her look like a medusa, conveying anger that Ron really didn't want directed at him.

"Good morning, class!" Professor Kwikspell said with a cheerful emphasis. Ron felt a bit of deja vu, and he and the rest of the class belted out a response in sing-songy harmony, the legacy of classes with Dorothy Umbridge.

"Good morning, Professor!"

He saw Kwikspell frown slightly, but she didn't respond directly. "Class, my understanding is that you have all spent the last year of Dark Arts mostly reading books. Is that correct?"

The harmony repeated. "Yes, Professor." Her frown deepened.

"Well, then," she exhaled strongly. "I think we should start with something practical, if you feel that you can handle it." She looked highly dubious. "If you'll all turn to page 15 in your text, A Kwikspell Guide to Curse Protection, we'll be covering some basic protection charms today. We will work through the five protection charms listed there."

They all turned as one to the page referenced, and read silently. As they finished, each sat there, waiting.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Form up into pairs." She seemed to be getting upset. Apparently, she didn't have the same expectations that Dorothy Umbridge had.

They formed up, and Ron noticed with satisfaction that those that had been part of Dumbledore's Army last year weren't having any problems with either their curses or their protection spells. That wasn't many of them, though, and a number of the Gryffindors still hadn't caught up. The Slytherins seemed to be doing fairly well with their curses, if not their protection charms, but the practicing seemed to be doing everyone some good.

Everyone seemed to be loosening up. "Looks like we won't need to have private lessons this time, eh, mate?" Ron called over to Harry.

Professor Kwikspell had heard, and she walked brusquely over to him. "Private lessons?"

Ron knew that he wasn't supposed to admit that they had ever actually had those lessons, so he hedged his answer. "Well, last year, we spent the whole semester in Dark Arts just reading in our seats. No practical at all. So we talked about having private lessons, but nothing came of it. We couldn't get approval for them."

Professor Kwikspell nodded her head, as if he'd told her something important. "And, the students who couldn't have these private lessons, would they include yourself, Mister Potter, and Miss Granger?"

Ron nodded. "And a few others, but not all in Gryffindor."

"So, in mentioning those lessons, were you thinking that you could get permission this time?"

"No," Ron shook his head. "I was just saying how good it was to have a Professor that let us do something practical. No disrespect to the old bat, I mean Professor, that we had last year, of course."

Professor Kwikspell seemed amused, rather than offended by his slip. "Carry on, then."

Harry and Ron kept up their combat until it was time to go, and then they hurried to lunch. Ron wasn't surprised to see Hermione keeping her distance. He was glad that Harry was still hanging around with him, though.

Harry leaned in as they walked. "So, Ron, you think she's still ticked at you? Over the train, I mean? She seemed pretty nice in there."

It took Ron a moment to realize that he was talking about Professor Kwikspell rather than Hermione. He guessed he still had Hermione on the brain. "I don't know," he shrugged. "Didn't seem like it. She just seemed to be paying attention to me, and that's probably not a good thing."

Harry thought for a minute, and then nodded. "So, did you catch what Ginny's schedule was for today?"

Ron looked annoyed. "No, why would I? I'm not keeping track of her or anything."

Harry stared at his feet. "Well, I just thought you might know, since I missed her at breakfast."

Ron peered at him. "Why are you so curious about Ginny all of a sudden, anyway?"

Harry was still looking down. "No reason."

Ron yanked Harry's arm, pulling him to the side, out of the stream of students. He glared at a few that seemed interested in what they were up to, ignoring Harry's protests until they had passed them.

"What is your problem?" Harry asked.

"I just want to know what you want with Ginny."

Harry shrugged. "She's just a friend, that's all."

"Well, you're not acting like that's all there is. You're acting like..."

"Like what?"

"Like it's something else."

"Ron, bug off."

"I'm not going to bug off. Tell me what's going on between the two of you."

"Well, you tell me what's going on with you and Hermione."

"What are you talking about?"

"Always going off with her, studying with her. I never see either of you anymore."

"Where did that come from? I asked you a question."

"And I told you to bug off." Harry turned, taking the stairs two at a time. Ron just stared at him as he went. What had just happened?

By the time Ron got to the Hall, he'd lost track of Harry. He started walking back and forth along the long table, looking for his friend. He was so caught up in his search that he ran smack into a Hufflepuff. Terry Boot was in his year, although that was about all they had in common. Terry didn't seem offended for having fallen victim to Ron's distractedness, though. In fact, he looked almost pleased. "Weasley! I was hoping I'd run into you. Care to make a small wager about this year's Quidditch Cup?" Terry was talking in a normal voice, which was far too loud for Ron, on this subject, anyway.

"I think I'll have enough trouble without starting the year wagering," Ron replied. "We all know who'll win anyway, so there's no fun in it."

"You're saying you couldn't use a couple of extra Galleons?"

There was an intake of breath from the nearby Gryffindors. That was uncomfortably close to the kind of jab that never failed to get a rise out of him, and Ron could tell that everyone around him knew it. Only the feel of a bony, but strong, hand on his shoulder managed to keep him under control.

"Mister Boot," the nasal voice of the school Potions Master echoed from behind him. "If you will excuse us, I need to have a discussion with Mister Weasley. Oh, and ten points from Hufflepuff for gambling."

Terry stammered out a response, and backed away.

Ron turned. "Thanks, Professor Snape."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "No need for thanks, Mister Weasley. I did, indeed, have an errand that concerned you. If you will follow me?"

Ron nodded, nervous, and followed the Professor into a hallway, and into an empty classroom. "Mister Weasley, your father informed me of the content of your discussion with him. My understanding, based on the discussion, was that you were to be looking out for Mister Potter's safety. That you were, in fact, to ensure that he did not go off and do anything half-cocked. Would that be a fair understanding?"

Ron nodded his head. He was already wincing, to save time for what he knew would come next.

"So, can you explain to me exactly how you intend to do that, when you've managed to drive a wedge between the two of you on your first day back? Is this some kind of subtle Gryffindor plan that I should be aware of?"

Snape's sneer made it clear what he thought of the possibility of a Gryffindor planning anything.

Ron shook his head. "I wasn't thinking."

"That was abundantly clear!" Snape spat back at him. "Do you even know where Potter is right now?"

Ron turned white. Would Harry have been fool enough to do something stupid already? He shook his head, whispering, "No."

"Fortunately," came Albus' voice from the door, "I do. He is on his way to my office, at my request. I can take this from here, Professor Snape. I believe I overheard Mister Boot approaching some of the Slytherin Quidditch team about a wager. I'm sure that you would like to make your feelings on the matter known."

Snape seemed torn between tormenting Ron and catching Terry Boot again, but he didn't argue with the Headmaster. He swept from the room, his black robes trailing behind him. Whatever else he might say about the man, at least he had style.

"I'll be brief, Mister Weasley. Lemon drop?" The headmaster held out a sweet from his robe, but Ron shook his head. The headmaster continued, "I overheard the last of what the Professor had to say, and although it may surprise you, I must agree. There is a story that I heard once, from my brother Aberforth, which may come in handy. Would you like to hear it?"

Ron knew that the correct response was yes, although he could have done without one of Dumbledore's stories right now. He nodded, and the headmaster continued.

"You may perhaps have heard this one before. My apologies if that is so. I assume you are familiar with a Muggle tool called a hammer?"

Ron nodded his assent again. Hammers weren't exclusively Muggle tools, although Ron had been surprised to learn that Muggles had to use them by hand.

"Once, it seems, there was a Muggle in need of a hammer. This Muggle was noble and strong-minded, but he was forever being denied things that he needed. Tools, food, even broomsticks were always beyond his reach, until he began to think that no one would ever give him what he needed if he simply asked out of friendship."

"And so, now that he needed a hammer, he was stuck. He knew that there was a neighbor that had a hammer, but he was afraid that the neighbor would not agree. As he walked to his neighbor's cottage, he found himself arguing in his own head, thinking about all of the appeals that he might use. Finally, he reached the cottage. He knocked angrily on the door. When the neighbor opened, he spat angrily at him. Do you know what he said?"

Ron, who was having trouble staying awake for this, shook his head.

"His reply ## was simply this. 'I do not need your hammer, you may keep it.' Then, he returned to his own cottage. Are you sure you don't need a lemon drop?"

Ron shook his head. The Headmaster turned to go, and Ron called after him, against his better judgment. "Headmaster! What's the point?"

The Headmaster turned to give his response before leaving. "If you want a hammer, Ron, you must ask, and ask politely, no matter how much it may be against your nature. Otherwise, if you always believe you will be refused, you will be doomed to spend your days blithwapping alone."

Once he was alone, Ron stood bewildered. He shook his head. "Simply mental," he murmured to himself, before pulling out his schedule to look at what he had to worry about next.

It looked like the rest of the afternoon was mostly a free period for his year, which was a real blessing. He only had History of Magic in the late afternoon, just in time for a good afternoon nap before dinner and detention.

Ron felt a little at a loss without either the Professors or his friends to keep him on track. He walked back to the Hall, and got what he could of what was left of lunch. He was sitting alone, he saw. No one said much to him, probably worried that he'd still be riled up over Terry Boot's insults.

He stuffed himself, not really tasting the food, but neither of his friends had materialized, and neither had his sister. He felt incredibly alone, even though students surrounded him.

Ron walked over and checked the schedule at Madame Hooch's again, but the patch was already booked right now. No chance for some extra practice at the moment, even if it wasn't pointless for a Keeper to practice by himself. No help for it, then, he might as well just start studying. Ron walked down to the library and yanked out his books, and forced himself to start digesting the day's reading.

He actually lost himself in reading. It wasn't due to interest, just due to the fact that if he stopped, he'd remember that he was studying alone. He was interrupted from a soft voice behind him, which reminded him that he had class to look forward to. Lavender Brown's soft voice whispered almost in his ear. "Ron, are you coming down to History of Magic? Would you mind sitting together?"

He stood up, facing her. She was batting her eyelashes at him again.

Ron was torn. He was mainly amused at the idea of spending more time with Lavender. She wasn't unattractive, but anyone that looked up to Professor Trelawney was someone he'd forever have trouble respecting. He wasn't interested in being alone, though.

He nodded, trying to look enthusiastic. It seemed to be enough. She ran up, grabbing hold of his arm, and chattering excitedly while he loaded his bag for class.

Harry and Hermione were sitting at opposite sides of the room. He supposed that Hermione had probably assumed that Harry was on his side. Ron hoped that Ginny talked to Hermione before Harry got to either of them and got her mad at him too.

Lavender seemed oblivious about the apparent rift between the trio, blindly accepting her luck at sitting next to Ron. She wrote cute little notes all through History of Magic, full of smiley-faces and exclamation points.

Ron couldn't figure out what he was supposed to do at this point. He kept thinking about the Headmaster's advice, trying to figure out if it meant anything. Hermione could probably explain it to him, if she didn't bite his head off first. Ron walked into dinner with Lavender still chatting to him. She didn't seem to care that he wasn't saying much back, or that he kept looking at Hermione and Harry.

Ron wondered why she was so alone right now. Pavarti wasn't paying any attention to Lavender, which wasn't normal. The two were normally thick as thieves, especially during meals, but they were sitting opposite each other. At some point, he wondered if he should ask her about it, but another bony hand interrupted him. "Come, Mr. Weasley, I believe it is time for your detention."

Ron hastily said his good-bye to Lavender. She looked shaken by his sudden departure, and somehow very alone. He felt awful for the way it seemed to make her feel. He asked quickly, against his better judgment, "Breakfast tomorrow?"

She nodded, and he ran after Professor Kwikspell. She said nothing to him until they reached her office, and then gave him only very terse instructions before moving on. He was to work through the books that she'd brought with her - the complete Kwikspell catalogue - finding every mention of dark magic, defense, and useful charms, especially those already addressed in the Hogwarts curriculum. He offered to polish caldrons or awards instead, but Professor Kwikspell only shook her head and left him alone to finish his work.

He was totally alone again, and he wondered if that would be the norm this year.

~.~.~

Ron was exhausted by the time he was done with his detention. He never knew that Kwikspell had so many different helpful guides for learning magic, and he had never really wanted to know, either. Cross-referencing wasn't his forte - that was one of the many things that Hermione did better than him.

Thinking of Hermione... he seemed to be doing that a lot recently. He hoped he'd have a chance to actually talk to her soon. He really didn't want her to hear about him being captain from someone else -- she'd think it meant something, and he really didn't want that.

He mumbled the password to the Fat Lady, and stumbled into the common room. He saw her there, sitting on a couch by the fire. She was talking in a low voice to Ginny, who seemed to be mostly listening. Ron tried to come up with a speech, but he was too tired. He decided to try something novel -- he'd just tell her what was on his mind. Ron tried to remember he was a Gryffindor, and walked straight for them.

Ginny saw him first. "Ron, I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow, okay?"

Ron nodded. "Alright, if you have to go to bed, I understand. Could we talk, Hermione?"

She looked taken aback by his approach, but still looked mad. "Actually, I should be going, too. I've got loads of work to do." She stood up and started to walk past him.

Ron stood in her way. "Me, too. I just got back from detention, so I haven't had a chance to start, yet. I just wanted to tell you something. It's not really important, but I figured if you heard it from someone else, you'd think I hadn't told you on purpose."

"Is it about Fleur?"

"Fleur? What does she have to do with anything?" Ron sputtered. "No, it's not that. It's just that McGonagall named me Quidditch Captain."

"She did!" Hermione sounded almost as surprised as she had when he was made Prefect. "That's wonderful." She didn't move any closer to him, though.

"Well, I'm sorry to hold you up. I'm sure you've got loads to do. Don't tell Harry, will you? I hadn't gotten a chance to tell him yet."

"You didn't tell him?" Now, Hermione looked less angry. There was something soft in her eyes. "Why did you tell me first?"

Ron shrugged. "Not sure. He's not speaking to me either right now, but I figured you'd take it worse if I didn't tell you. Well, good night then." He turned around and headed towards bed, leaving her almost dumbfounded.

-------------------------------

A/N: Thanks as always to my beta reader, Kianna

Updated to fix HTML bug - Apologies for the missing pre tag.