A Glimpse of the Hidden
~I pledge my loyalty to Honor, Justice, and Hogwarts~
Part Six
Ron and Hermione were enjoying a rare moment of solitude in the Gryffindor common room. They just sat on the sofa in front of the fire in the pleasant silence of good company. Ron was actually beginning to forget. Forget about classes, forget about visions, and even forget about the marble that had been plaguing his thoughts.
Hermione sighed contentedly and snuggled closer to Ron. She was perfectly happy just sitting here with him with no one to interrupt. There wasn't a thing that could ruin her happiness.
Suddenly, she felt Ron tense next to her. Looking up worriedly, she saw his head had turned toward the window on their far left.
"Ron?" She asked tentatively. He didn't reply. "Ron?"
"What? Huh?" Ron seemed to come back to earth.
"Did you just have a vision?" Hermione asked interestedly.
"No. No vision," Ron replied. He tried to get comfortable again and ignore Draco, who was screaming at the top of his lungs.
"Weasley, get here out of here, I need to talk to you! Now!" Ron decidedly ignored Draco. He didn't want Hermione to get suspicious, especially since the marble wouldn't allow him to tell her that he was a necromancer. He wondered what would possibly be getting Draco so worked up. Curiosity got the better of him and he found himself listening closely to Draco's unceasing rant. He was soon rewarded for his efforts.
"Damn it, Weasley! I just witnessed your dear friend Potter kiss Ginny!"
"WHAT?!" Ron cried in the language of the dead, leaping to his feet. Ginny kissing...Harry? That was impossible! She's in love with Draco...WAS in love with Draco...
"RON!" Hermione cried, leaping to her feet in concern. He glanced over at her, wondering what to say. The words came of their own accord, some new evil of the marble, no doubt.
"Vision. This time I actually had a vision," Ron's mouth formed the words and Ron's mind nodded its approval. "I'll be right back, I need to...sort this out."
He turned and fled up the stairs. Hermione sighed and sat down on the couch, feeling very cold and alone all of a sudden.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Harry, on the other hand, had never felt more alive. Ginny was kissing him back, which was more than he had ever hoped for. He held her greedily, not wanting anyone to come near or around her except himself. At that moment she was HIS Ginny, in the sense that she didn't belong to Draco Malfoy.
At least, that's what he thought.
He was so shocked when she suddenly broke the kiss that he didn't react until she had ducked under his arms and flew through the doors into the castle, and he knew she was crying. Damn Malfoy! He knew, somehow, that it was he who caused her to fly. Why couldn't Ginny take his advice and accept Malfoy's death and MOVE ON?!
He bit his lip and looked away guiltily. He was being grossly unfair and he knew it. Malfoy had been, from what Harry now heard, a great person underneath all that smirk. And Ginny...Ginny had loved him. There was nothing he could do about it.
After several moments of inner battle, Harry turned to go back inside.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"What do you mean, Harry and Ginny?" Ron cried once he had slammed the door to the dormitory and spun around to face Draco. "Ginny loves...loved you!"
"Exactly," Draco replied, his first anger now starting to give way to despair. "LOVED me. The past tense."
"But...but Ginny would never-"
"You just don't get it, do you?!" Draco demanded, his anger surging again this time directed at Ron. "You just don't understand. She and Harry...they're MEANT for each other!"
Silence followed this. Ron was looking at Draco incredulously. He had never seen him in life or death look so resigned and melancholy. Ron couldn't find words for a few moments, and finally managed to sputter, "What?"
"I've known forever. Even before I died I knew she wasn't for me," Draco explained forlornly. "But I just..." He sighed. "Ever since I died and became this...this...whatever I am, I've known Ginny was Harry's. That's why I can't leave. I'm bound to her, I can't leave until I know she's safe. Safe with Harry."
"How can you do that?" Ron asked, with an entirely new respect for Draco. He was thinking of himself in Draco's place, with Hermione in Ginny's. He didn't think he could ever...EVER be able to stay on earth after death and make sure Hermione made it safely into another man's arms.
"I can't," Draco replied sadly. "But I have to."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When Hermione sat down for dinner at the Gryffindor table that night she noticed several things out of sorts. Ginny was sitting at the far end of the table instead of her usual seat between the fifth and sixth years where she could talk to all her friends. Harry kept staring at her with a confused puppy look while she pretended not to see him.
When Harry DID condescend to join the living, he discovered a strange attitude from Ron. Hermione was (for, in her opinion, completely verified reasons) rather put out with her boyfriend, but she was mystified as to why HE would be upset with anyone, much less Harry. Then again, maybe Hermione was just confusing anger with Ron's new trademark: being distracted.
She was still pondering what to do when the doors to the Great Hall burst open. Whispers spread through the throughout the student body like wildfire. Hermione's heart rate quickened. Her eyes darted to the High Table. Luna and Sirius were both on their feet, their wands at the ready. Hermione was about to follow their example when a man entered the hall.
She had never seen a more harmless looking man in all her life. He was of medium height with dark red hair heavily streaked with silver. His black robes were dusty and travel-worn. Her eyes traveled back to Sirius, whose teeth were clenched and eyes narrowed, and Luna, whose jaw and eyes had both opened wide in shock. It wasn't until Ron spoke that she understood their reactions.
"Uncle Peter."
There was no way the man could've heard that hardly breathed statement over all the whispers in the Hall. Yet his eyes snapped to Ron immediately and he swept into the hall toward him. The man stopped and smiled down at Ron, who stared back defiantly.
"Hello, nephew," The man, Peter Weasley, smiled. Ron nodded in response, as if he had been expecting his long-lost uncle to come barging into the Great Hall.
"Just one damn minute!" Sirius cried, running from the High Table to where Peter stood. Peter only looked up at him serenely as Sirius continued in mounting fury, "You have NO right to be here, you treacherous, dirty, rotten, evil-"
"I should think you, of all people Sirius, would know not to judge people until you have seen all the evidence." Peter replied. Hermione shivered. His voice betrayed his underlying evil. It was cold and hard. "Prove that I am what you call me, and I will leave. In the mean time, I have come for a bit of a...a family reunion." He smiled down at Ron, and Hermione felt a surge of anger and fear rush through her veins. Ron looked almost as cool and collected as his uncle, but Hermione could easily see the fear in his eyes as Peter spoke again. "Come, Ronald."
"Ron," Sirius said, grabbing the his arm as he stood. Hermione's heart was pounding so hard she couldn't react.
"Don't worry, Sirius. I know what I'm doing," Ron said, removing Sirius's hand and following his uncle out of the hall. The students broke into babble and Hermione buried her head in her folded arms, ignoring Harry's attempts to invent an explanation. A few moments later, a summons fell onto her head.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
No, no! Ron's mind screamed. But it was useless, the marble had a firm grasp on his body and there was nothing his mind could do about it. He was following his crazy, Death Eater of an uncle, probably to his death. Draco flew after him, letting out a stream of fluent curse words, however Ron figured his basic meaning was "what are you doing, Ron?"
He followed his uncle to a wing of the castle he had only been in a few times. Peter approached a gargoyle statue and whispered in its ear. Immediately it sprang back, revealing a circular room which the two men (and the Intangible) entered.
"Speak freely," Peter said without preamble. "There is no need for fear."
"What do you mean 'speak freely'?" Ron demanded. "Are you suggesting I can't?"
In reality, Ron's thoughts were quite the opposite. How did Peter know that he no longer had control over his speech? That he could only speak freely in the language of the dead...
"Use it." Peter hissed, and Ron jumped.
"Use what?" He demanded. Peter sighed with exasperation and looked over at Draco.
"Tell him to use what powers he has," He snapped.
"Can you..." Draco stuttered. "Can you see me?"
"Obviously," Peter rolled his eyes. His gaze fell to his confused nephew and it softened. "Speak in the language of the dead, Ron. It is also the only way I can speak freely."
"You're a necromancer too," Ron said in wonder, speaking in the aforementioned tongue.
"Yes," Peter nodded. "All Divinator Hogwarts' Defenders are Necromancers. Little known fact. Actually, a forgotten fact. Only you and I remember."
"Only you and I..." Ron stammered. He then remembered something else. "You're a Death Eater!" He cried. He would've leapt to his feet, but the marble's hold on his limbs refused to let him.
"Yes," Peter nodded, his voice sad. "I am. If the marble commanded you to follow the Dark Lord, you would too."
"How do you know about...about..."
"You know that it was mine once. It was left at Hogwarts fifty years ago. Dumbledore always knew it was for true Divinators. He obviously doesn't know the marble's true power."
"Which would be....?" Draco asked, seeing as Ron was too confused to say much of anything.
"It was Tom Riddle's," Peter explained. "You've had visions of Tom and Kara, I know you have. Kara gave it to him, and he kept it for years. It was just an ordinary Muggle plaything until Tom was sixteen."
"Tom was sixteen..." Ron repeated. Things were beginning to fall together in his mind. "The year he wrote his diary..."
"Yes," Peter replied, giving him an odd look. "How did you know about that?"
"Ginny was possessed by the diary," Ron explained. "She opened the Chamber of Secrets." For a moment, Ron thought Peter was going to explode, or scream, or kill something. But he didn't do any of those things.
He laughed.
"It must be a family failing," Peter said, once he regained control of himself. "Don't you see it, Ron? There is a drop of ink in the marble. From his diary."
Ron's eyes widened. He pulled the marble from his pocket. It was so familiar to him by then that he didn't really have to look. There were the swirling colors around the unchanging droplet of black ink.
"His quill exploded," Peter said, still laughing. "His bloody QUILL EXPLODED!"
"Get a hold of yourself!" Draco cried in aggravation. He failed to see what was so amusing."
"But don't you see it?" Peter replied, looking from the angry Intangible to his confused nephew. "Ginny was possessed by Tom Riddle in the diary, but we are possessed by Tom Riddle in the marble."
"But...but..." Ron stammered. "Ginny broke out long enough to throw the diary away. Well...at Moaning Myrtle anyway. Couldn't I-"
"Don't you get it?" Peter asked, his mirth finally subsiding as he met his nephew's desperate eyes. "The diary was Tom Riddle's life force, keeping him the way he was. His PHYSICAL self. What we have...no, you don't understand. Allow me to explain.
"Kara Stein went to primary school with the children at the orphanage up the street. More specifically, with Tom Riddle. Tom had a young child's crush on her, and she on him. The last day before summer break when they were nine years old, Tom gave Kara a gift. It was a locket, a golden locket shaped like a heart. You've seen it? I had thought so. The locket is, in the long run, of much more importance than the marble. And much more dangerous as well.
"Kara wanted to give him something in return. So, she gave him her favorite marble. It represented...I don't know. I would say fidelity, but they were only children, after all. The two remained good friends for the next few years. They had a few innocent children's kisses, and despite the cruel orphanage and the war just beginning in Europe, life was looking up for Tom and Kara. Then Tom got his letter from Hogwarts.
"He obviously couldn't tell her he was a wizard. He waited, sure she would be a witch. However, Kara's eleventh birthday came and went with no letter. So he had to explain that he'd been accepted into a private school. They said their goodbyes and promised to be friends anyway. They were true to this promise for five years. They exchanged letters and spent their summers together with as much peace as two teenagers could find in the growing hatred of the war.
"Obviously, it wasn't that simple. Tom was already falling into the dark arts by age 12. But he was obsessed with Kara...I would say love if I dared to connect that sacred word with such an individual. She knew something was different, but she always thought it was the school. It wasn't until the summer before Tom's sixth year that he realized SHE was different. He came back to the orphanage and then went to the park he and Kara always met at after he returned from school. He found her there all right. With her boyfriend.
"Well, Tom was never quite the same after that. Kara tried to talk to him that summer, but he wouldn't respond. When he returned to school, he wouldn't respond to her letters, and eventually she gave up. It was the final blow to Tom Riddle. I should say fatal. It was that year that he first assumed the persona of Lord Voldemort and began to write his diary.
"I don't know the date. However, I do know that Tom was busy writing away one afternoon when it happened. The marble was on the table next to him. He was rarely without it, and it served as a sort of...inspiration, in a sick way. He looked up, and thought of Kara. Then he realized it was her birthday. His quill exploded.
"He managed to magically catch most of the ink before it soaked into anything. However, one drop got away, and wouldn't you know it, it landed on the marble. When Tom picked it up, he saw Kara as she was at that very moment, twirling in front of her mirror in a blue dress."
"I've seen her!" Ron exclaimed suddenly, remembering his dream. "I've seen Kara, and Tom looking in the marble."
"Yes, I had suspected as much," Peter nodded. "The marble caused Tom pain, and so he did what he always did with things that pained him, he got rid of it. For several years, he forgot about Kara Stein and her marble.
"Then, for reasons unknown to me, he began to search for her. He found her alright. Kara had married a man named Stephen Evans and had two daughters. I have no idea what miracle brought him to the house a night when both the children were out. Their elder daughter, Petunia, I believe her name is, was spending the night with a friend. The younger, Lily, was at Hogwarts. Voldemort killed Kara and Stephen that night. Lily, as I'm sure you already have guessed, married James Potter and was later murdered in the defense of her son Harry. I think that pretty much sums up the history of the marble, seeing as you already know it was given to me, and now it is in your possession."
"Yeah, but..." Ron stammered. "What does it all mean?"
"Ron, Ron, you just don't seem to understand," Peter said, looking up at his nephew and somehow seeming taller even though in reality he was nearly a head shorter. "The marble is not just a curse. It is a gift. You have a peek at what no one else knows. The hidden world and past of Lord Voldemort. This marble..." Peter's gaze traveled to Ron's hand, and he clutched the marble tighter as if he though Peter were going to steal it.
"I...I don't understand..." He stammered.
"This marble is a glimpse of the hidden," Peter whispered.
There was a moment of silence. Suddenly, it had all come together in Ron's mind. After a moment Draco swore again. It seemed to be becoming a favorite habit of his.
"So, what are you doing here?" He demanded. Peter's eyes rested for a moment on the Intangible. They flickered to Ron and back to Draco before he answered.
"I was called by the marble to train Ron," He answered. "I'm going to teach him how to use his powers of Necromancy."
"That's black magic," Draco snapped.
"Precisely."
Draco looked at Peter as if he were crazy. However, Ron somehow was beginning to understand his Uncle Peter.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"What the hell is going on?" Sirius demanded as he stomped into Luna's office. Luna herself, along with Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Harry and Cho, were already there, waiting for him.
"I don't know anything more than you do," Luna replied quietly. The Defenders remained silent. Ginny was shaking.
"He...he...the audacity! He comes storming in as if he owns the place and just takes Ron off to God knows where and-"
"Ron's not in danger, is he?" Hermione squeaked. She knew Peter Weasley was a killer, but she wanted reassurance. She didn't get it. Sirius looked at her, then looked away in guilt and continued his argument with Luna.
"Should we summon him?" Cho asked, looking worried.
"Tried," Luna replied shortly.
"So, we should try again!" Harry exclaimed.
"Try what?" A voice from the doorway interrupted. They all turned to see Ron, looking perfectly healthy and in one piece.
"Ron!" Several of them exclaimed. Hermione leapt up and gave him a hug. He kissed her cheek then pulled away, looking around the room in confusion.
"What are you guys so anxious about?"
"YOU!" Sirius yelled, causing everyone else to jump a bit. "What happened with that slimy insolent git?"
"Nothing, Sirius," Ron replied, looking rather worried for his sanity. "Nothing happened."
"Then WHY is he here?!" Luna demanded. Ron shrugged, taking his usual seat between Hermione and Harry.
"It's a Divinator thing," He replied. "Don't worry, Luna," He continued meeting his coach's eyes. "It's not like I'm possessed or anything."
~I pledge my loyalty to Honor, Justice, and Hogwarts~
Part Six
Ron and Hermione were enjoying a rare moment of solitude in the Gryffindor common room. They just sat on the sofa in front of the fire in the pleasant silence of good company. Ron was actually beginning to forget. Forget about classes, forget about visions, and even forget about the marble that had been plaguing his thoughts.
Hermione sighed contentedly and snuggled closer to Ron. She was perfectly happy just sitting here with him with no one to interrupt. There wasn't a thing that could ruin her happiness.
Suddenly, she felt Ron tense next to her. Looking up worriedly, she saw his head had turned toward the window on their far left.
"Ron?" She asked tentatively. He didn't reply. "Ron?"
"What? Huh?" Ron seemed to come back to earth.
"Did you just have a vision?" Hermione asked interestedly.
"No. No vision," Ron replied. He tried to get comfortable again and ignore Draco, who was screaming at the top of his lungs.
"Weasley, get here out of here, I need to talk to you! Now!" Ron decidedly ignored Draco. He didn't want Hermione to get suspicious, especially since the marble wouldn't allow him to tell her that he was a necromancer. He wondered what would possibly be getting Draco so worked up. Curiosity got the better of him and he found himself listening closely to Draco's unceasing rant. He was soon rewarded for his efforts.
"Damn it, Weasley! I just witnessed your dear friend Potter kiss Ginny!"
"WHAT?!" Ron cried in the language of the dead, leaping to his feet. Ginny kissing...Harry? That was impossible! She's in love with Draco...WAS in love with Draco...
"RON!" Hermione cried, leaping to her feet in concern. He glanced over at her, wondering what to say. The words came of their own accord, some new evil of the marble, no doubt.
"Vision. This time I actually had a vision," Ron's mouth formed the words and Ron's mind nodded its approval. "I'll be right back, I need to...sort this out."
He turned and fled up the stairs. Hermione sighed and sat down on the couch, feeling very cold and alone all of a sudden.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Harry, on the other hand, had never felt more alive. Ginny was kissing him back, which was more than he had ever hoped for. He held her greedily, not wanting anyone to come near or around her except himself. At that moment she was HIS Ginny, in the sense that she didn't belong to Draco Malfoy.
At least, that's what he thought.
He was so shocked when she suddenly broke the kiss that he didn't react until she had ducked under his arms and flew through the doors into the castle, and he knew she was crying. Damn Malfoy! He knew, somehow, that it was he who caused her to fly. Why couldn't Ginny take his advice and accept Malfoy's death and MOVE ON?!
He bit his lip and looked away guiltily. He was being grossly unfair and he knew it. Malfoy had been, from what Harry now heard, a great person underneath all that smirk. And Ginny...Ginny had loved him. There was nothing he could do about it.
After several moments of inner battle, Harry turned to go back inside.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"What do you mean, Harry and Ginny?" Ron cried once he had slammed the door to the dormitory and spun around to face Draco. "Ginny loves...loved you!"
"Exactly," Draco replied, his first anger now starting to give way to despair. "LOVED me. The past tense."
"But...but Ginny would never-"
"You just don't get it, do you?!" Draco demanded, his anger surging again this time directed at Ron. "You just don't understand. She and Harry...they're MEANT for each other!"
Silence followed this. Ron was looking at Draco incredulously. He had never seen him in life or death look so resigned and melancholy. Ron couldn't find words for a few moments, and finally managed to sputter, "What?"
"I've known forever. Even before I died I knew she wasn't for me," Draco explained forlornly. "But I just..." He sighed. "Ever since I died and became this...this...whatever I am, I've known Ginny was Harry's. That's why I can't leave. I'm bound to her, I can't leave until I know she's safe. Safe with Harry."
"How can you do that?" Ron asked, with an entirely new respect for Draco. He was thinking of himself in Draco's place, with Hermione in Ginny's. He didn't think he could ever...EVER be able to stay on earth after death and make sure Hermione made it safely into another man's arms.
"I can't," Draco replied sadly. "But I have to."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When Hermione sat down for dinner at the Gryffindor table that night she noticed several things out of sorts. Ginny was sitting at the far end of the table instead of her usual seat between the fifth and sixth years where she could talk to all her friends. Harry kept staring at her with a confused puppy look while she pretended not to see him.
When Harry DID condescend to join the living, he discovered a strange attitude from Ron. Hermione was (for, in her opinion, completely verified reasons) rather put out with her boyfriend, but she was mystified as to why HE would be upset with anyone, much less Harry. Then again, maybe Hermione was just confusing anger with Ron's new trademark: being distracted.
She was still pondering what to do when the doors to the Great Hall burst open. Whispers spread through the throughout the student body like wildfire. Hermione's heart rate quickened. Her eyes darted to the High Table. Luna and Sirius were both on their feet, their wands at the ready. Hermione was about to follow their example when a man entered the hall.
She had never seen a more harmless looking man in all her life. He was of medium height with dark red hair heavily streaked with silver. His black robes were dusty and travel-worn. Her eyes traveled back to Sirius, whose teeth were clenched and eyes narrowed, and Luna, whose jaw and eyes had both opened wide in shock. It wasn't until Ron spoke that she understood their reactions.
"Uncle Peter."
There was no way the man could've heard that hardly breathed statement over all the whispers in the Hall. Yet his eyes snapped to Ron immediately and he swept into the hall toward him. The man stopped and smiled down at Ron, who stared back defiantly.
"Hello, nephew," The man, Peter Weasley, smiled. Ron nodded in response, as if he had been expecting his long-lost uncle to come barging into the Great Hall.
"Just one damn minute!" Sirius cried, running from the High Table to where Peter stood. Peter only looked up at him serenely as Sirius continued in mounting fury, "You have NO right to be here, you treacherous, dirty, rotten, evil-"
"I should think you, of all people Sirius, would know not to judge people until you have seen all the evidence." Peter replied. Hermione shivered. His voice betrayed his underlying evil. It was cold and hard. "Prove that I am what you call me, and I will leave. In the mean time, I have come for a bit of a...a family reunion." He smiled down at Ron, and Hermione felt a surge of anger and fear rush through her veins. Ron looked almost as cool and collected as his uncle, but Hermione could easily see the fear in his eyes as Peter spoke again. "Come, Ronald."
"Ron," Sirius said, grabbing the his arm as he stood. Hermione's heart was pounding so hard she couldn't react.
"Don't worry, Sirius. I know what I'm doing," Ron said, removing Sirius's hand and following his uncle out of the hall. The students broke into babble and Hermione buried her head in her folded arms, ignoring Harry's attempts to invent an explanation. A few moments later, a summons fell onto her head.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
No, no! Ron's mind screamed. But it was useless, the marble had a firm grasp on his body and there was nothing his mind could do about it. He was following his crazy, Death Eater of an uncle, probably to his death. Draco flew after him, letting out a stream of fluent curse words, however Ron figured his basic meaning was "what are you doing, Ron?"
He followed his uncle to a wing of the castle he had only been in a few times. Peter approached a gargoyle statue and whispered in its ear. Immediately it sprang back, revealing a circular room which the two men (and the Intangible) entered.
"Speak freely," Peter said without preamble. "There is no need for fear."
"What do you mean 'speak freely'?" Ron demanded. "Are you suggesting I can't?"
In reality, Ron's thoughts were quite the opposite. How did Peter know that he no longer had control over his speech? That he could only speak freely in the language of the dead...
"Use it." Peter hissed, and Ron jumped.
"Use what?" He demanded. Peter sighed with exasperation and looked over at Draco.
"Tell him to use what powers he has," He snapped.
"Can you..." Draco stuttered. "Can you see me?"
"Obviously," Peter rolled his eyes. His gaze fell to his confused nephew and it softened. "Speak in the language of the dead, Ron. It is also the only way I can speak freely."
"You're a necromancer too," Ron said in wonder, speaking in the aforementioned tongue.
"Yes," Peter nodded. "All Divinator Hogwarts' Defenders are Necromancers. Little known fact. Actually, a forgotten fact. Only you and I remember."
"Only you and I..." Ron stammered. He then remembered something else. "You're a Death Eater!" He cried. He would've leapt to his feet, but the marble's hold on his limbs refused to let him.
"Yes," Peter nodded, his voice sad. "I am. If the marble commanded you to follow the Dark Lord, you would too."
"How do you know about...about..."
"You know that it was mine once. It was left at Hogwarts fifty years ago. Dumbledore always knew it was for true Divinators. He obviously doesn't know the marble's true power."
"Which would be....?" Draco asked, seeing as Ron was too confused to say much of anything.
"It was Tom Riddle's," Peter explained. "You've had visions of Tom and Kara, I know you have. Kara gave it to him, and he kept it for years. It was just an ordinary Muggle plaything until Tom was sixteen."
"Tom was sixteen..." Ron repeated. Things were beginning to fall together in his mind. "The year he wrote his diary..."
"Yes," Peter replied, giving him an odd look. "How did you know about that?"
"Ginny was possessed by the diary," Ron explained. "She opened the Chamber of Secrets." For a moment, Ron thought Peter was going to explode, or scream, or kill something. But he didn't do any of those things.
He laughed.
"It must be a family failing," Peter said, once he regained control of himself. "Don't you see it, Ron? There is a drop of ink in the marble. From his diary."
Ron's eyes widened. He pulled the marble from his pocket. It was so familiar to him by then that he didn't really have to look. There were the swirling colors around the unchanging droplet of black ink.
"His quill exploded," Peter said, still laughing. "His bloody QUILL EXPLODED!"
"Get a hold of yourself!" Draco cried in aggravation. He failed to see what was so amusing."
"But don't you see it?" Peter replied, looking from the angry Intangible to his confused nephew. "Ginny was possessed by Tom Riddle in the diary, but we are possessed by Tom Riddle in the marble."
"But...but..." Ron stammered. "Ginny broke out long enough to throw the diary away. Well...at Moaning Myrtle anyway. Couldn't I-"
"Don't you get it?" Peter asked, his mirth finally subsiding as he met his nephew's desperate eyes. "The diary was Tom Riddle's life force, keeping him the way he was. His PHYSICAL self. What we have...no, you don't understand. Allow me to explain.
"Kara Stein went to primary school with the children at the orphanage up the street. More specifically, with Tom Riddle. Tom had a young child's crush on her, and she on him. The last day before summer break when they were nine years old, Tom gave Kara a gift. It was a locket, a golden locket shaped like a heart. You've seen it? I had thought so. The locket is, in the long run, of much more importance than the marble. And much more dangerous as well.
"Kara wanted to give him something in return. So, she gave him her favorite marble. It represented...I don't know. I would say fidelity, but they were only children, after all. The two remained good friends for the next few years. They had a few innocent children's kisses, and despite the cruel orphanage and the war just beginning in Europe, life was looking up for Tom and Kara. Then Tom got his letter from Hogwarts.
"He obviously couldn't tell her he was a wizard. He waited, sure she would be a witch. However, Kara's eleventh birthday came and went with no letter. So he had to explain that he'd been accepted into a private school. They said their goodbyes and promised to be friends anyway. They were true to this promise for five years. They exchanged letters and spent their summers together with as much peace as two teenagers could find in the growing hatred of the war.
"Obviously, it wasn't that simple. Tom was already falling into the dark arts by age 12. But he was obsessed with Kara...I would say love if I dared to connect that sacred word with such an individual. She knew something was different, but she always thought it was the school. It wasn't until the summer before Tom's sixth year that he realized SHE was different. He came back to the orphanage and then went to the park he and Kara always met at after he returned from school. He found her there all right. With her boyfriend.
"Well, Tom was never quite the same after that. Kara tried to talk to him that summer, but he wouldn't respond. When he returned to school, he wouldn't respond to her letters, and eventually she gave up. It was the final blow to Tom Riddle. I should say fatal. It was that year that he first assumed the persona of Lord Voldemort and began to write his diary.
"I don't know the date. However, I do know that Tom was busy writing away one afternoon when it happened. The marble was on the table next to him. He was rarely without it, and it served as a sort of...inspiration, in a sick way. He looked up, and thought of Kara. Then he realized it was her birthday. His quill exploded.
"He managed to magically catch most of the ink before it soaked into anything. However, one drop got away, and wouldn't you know it, it landed on the marble. When Tom picked it up, he saw Kara as she was at that very moment, twirling in front of her mirror in a blue dress."
"I've seen her!" Ron exclaimed suddenly, remembering his dream. "I've seen Kara, and Tom looking in the marble."
"Yes, I had suspected as much," Peter nodded. "The marble caused Tom pain, and so he did what he always did with things that pained him, he got rid of it. For several years, he forgot about Kara Stein and her marble.
"Then, for reasons unknown to me, he began to search for her. He found her alright. Kara had married a man named Stephen Evans and had two daughters. I have no idea what miracle brought him to the house a night when both the children were out. Their elder daughter, Petunia, I believe her name is, was spending the night with a friend. The younger, Lily, was at Hogwarts. Voldemort killed Kara and Stephen that night. Lily, as I'm sure you already have guessed, married James Potter and was later murdered in the defense of her son Harry. I think that pretty much sums up the history of the marble, seeing as you already know it was given to me, and now it is in your possession."
"Yeah, but..." Ron stammered. "What does it all mean?"
"Ron, Ron, you just don't seem to understand," Peter said, looking up at his nephew and somehow seeming taller even though in reality he was nearly a head shorter. "The marble is not just a curse. It is a gift. You have a peek at what no one else knows. The hidden world and past of Lord Voldemort. This marble..." Peter's gaze traveled to Ron's hand, and he clutched the marble tighter as if he though Peter were going to steal it.
"I...I don't understand..." He stammered.
"This marble is a glimpse of the hidden," Peter whispered.
There was a moment of silence. Suddenly, it had all come together in Ron's mind. After a moment Draco swore again. It seemed to be becoming a favorite habit of his.
"So, what are you doing here?" He demanded. Peter's eyes rested for a moment on the Intangible. They flickered to Ron and back to Draco before he answered.
"I was called by the marble to train Ron," He answered. "I'm going to teach him how to use his powers of Necromancy."
"That's black magic," Draco snapped.
"Precisely."
Draco looked at Peter as if he were crazy. However, Ron somehow was beginning to understand his Uncle Peter.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"What the hell is going on?" Sirius demanded as he stomped into Luna's office. Luna herself, along with Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Harry and Cho, were already there, waiting for him.
"I don't know anything more than you do," Luna replied quietly. The Defenders remained silent. Ginny was shaking.
"He...he...the audacity! He comes storming in as if he owns the place and just takes Ron off to God knows where and-"
"Ron's not in danger, is he?" Hermione squeaked. She knew Peter Weasley was a killer, but she wanted reassurance. She didn't get it. Sirius looked at her, then looked away in guilt and continued his argument with Luna.
"Should we summon him?" Cho asked, looking worried.
"Tried," Luna replied shortly.
"So, we should try again!" Harry exclaimed.
"Try what?" A voice from the doorway interrupted. They all turned to see Ron, looking perfectly healthy and in one piece.
"Ron!" Several of them exclaimed. Hermione leapt up and gave him a hug. He kissed her cheek then pulled away, looking around the room in confusion.
"What are you guys so anxious about?"
"YOU!" Sirius yelled, causing everyone else to jump a bit. "What happened with that slimy insolent git?"
"Nothing, Sirius," Ron replied, looking rather worried for his sanity. "Nothing happened."
"Then WHY is he here?!" Luna demanded. Ron shrugged, taking his usual seat between Hermione and Harry.
"It's a Divinator thing," He replied. "Don't worry, Luna," He continued meeting his coach's eyes. "It's not like I'm possessed or anything."