A/N: Well, I didn't get many reviews at all for the last chapter. Hmm. That's becoming fairly unusual, so I'm wondering if the chapter alerts didn't go out. I know at least one person got it, but I did get an error on the webpage after trying to post. Every time that happens I cringe, because it means that something goes wrong, usually with alerts. And you can't post twice… so here we are. Anyway, I hope you all got a chance to read the last chapter whether you reviewed or not!
athenakitty: You seem to want Fudge to die (you mentioned it twice). I guess you'll have to keep on reading to find out…
totallystellar: See, you got an author alert! It's too bad you don't like Ron, because this chapter is mostly about him. I like Ron.
chuckleseviltroll312: A lot of people seem unsure of what to think about Ron's talent. And about Platform 9 ¾… I didn't want to go through it all, so I got them back to school by other means. I never did specify how Fred, George, and Ginny got back. I may have to fix that.
captuniv: Bring it on? It's coming on! Next chapter!
Chapter 33: Ron's Decision
Ron was absent from classes for an entire week. They were difficult days for Harry, who found that a good deal of the fun had gone from Hogwarts without his friend. He knew the feeling from second year when Hermione had been petrified for a few months. Things just weren't the same with one of them gone; they had always been a threesome.
At breakfast on Friday, a letter finally arrived from Ron. Harry and Hermione both perked up instantly when Errol, the Weasley family's ancient owl, collapsed into a pitcher of pumpkin juice with a splash. Hermione had to fish the bird out to keep him from drowning. She was so thrilled about the letter that she barely seemed to notice that her white shirt was now splattered with orange. "Oh, poor Errol!" she cooed, stroking his feathers. "So brave of you, making such a long trip!"
Harry took the wet letter and hurriedly opened it.
Dear Harry and Hermione,
Good news! Healer Bigelow says I'm back to normal, so I'm coming back to school on Saturday. Actually I can't wait to get there – Mum has been driving me crazy. Sorry I haven't written sooner. I've had rather a lot on my mind, but I guess you know that. Well, I'm going to see you guys in a day or two anyway, so I'll stop here. Oh yeah, and I hope that Errol made it alive. I guess if you're reading the letter then it means that he did. Will someone go up to the Owlery and say hi to Pig for me? He gets depressed if he's left alone too long.
Ron
"Pig gets depressed?" said Harry.
"So for all Ron's bravado, he really does like Pig," said Hermione. "That's sweet."
A younger owl fluttered down next to Hermione's plate. It held out a small scroll of paper that Hermione unrolled and read eagerly. "It's from Professor McGonagall," she said. "She says that Ron will be in the entrance hall around lunchtime if we want to wait."
Harry did want to wait, and when noon rolled around on Saturday, he and Hermione were both sitting at the bottom of a stone staircase in the entrance hall. Harry sat with his back against the wall and The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 on his knees. Hermione was working on an essay that was already quite long; the parchment was curling around her feet. Fred, George, and Ginny were also waiting, though none of them were doing any homework.
There was a quiet pop, and Ron and Mr. Weasley appeared. "Ron!" Ginny squealed, leaping to her feet. She rushed over and wrapped Ron up in a crushing hug.
Ron's face turned bright red. "Er, hi, Ginny," he said.
"Ickle Ronniekins!" the twins said, rumpling their brother's hair and giving him quick, mannish hugs in their turn. Harry and Hermione hung back to let the siblings reunite, though Hermione looked as if she very much wanted to hug Ron herself.
"Welcome back to Hogwarts, Ronald," said Dumbledore's voice. Harry looked and saw the headmaster standing in the hallway.
"Thank you, sir," said Ron.
"Hello, Arthur," said Dumbledore. "I suppose you won't be staying long."
"No, thank you, Albus," said Mr. Weasley. "I need to be getting back to the Ministry." He gave his son a fond look. "Take care of yourself, son. Ginny, Harry, Hermione, keep him out of trouble, will you?"
"Daaad," said Ron.
Mr. Weasley laughed. "I promised your mother I'd say it."
"I noticed you left us out," said George, feigning disappointment.
"Trouble is your middle name," said Mr. Weasley. "You wouldn't listen anyway." He looked up at Dumbledore. "If it wouldn't be too much bother, Albus, I think I will need a fireplace."
"Not at all," said Dumbledore. "You may use mine." Mr. Weasley accepted, and with a last farewell to his children, he left with the headmaster.
"Boy, have I got a lot to tell you guys," said Ron when they had gone.
"Harry and Hermione already know the big news," said Fred just as Ron's stomach rumbled loudly enough for everyone to hear.
"Had lunch yet?" George teased.
"No." Ron looked toward the Great Hall. The sound of students laughing and talking drifted down the corridor. He didn't look too thrilled about joining the crowd.
"Why don't we just take a walk outside?" said Hermione. "I'm sure Fred and George would be happy to nick you some food later on."
"Good idea," Ron said eagerly, and he pulled his cloak back over his shoulders.
They walked in silence for a few minutes. Ron seemed to be collecting his thoughts. Harry was eager to hear what he had to say, but he was willing to wait. After a whole week, a few minutes more wasn't much to stand.
"Hullo there!" called Hagrid. Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys looked round and saw the gamekeeper coming toward them.
"Hello, Hagrid," said Ron, grinning.
"Welcome back, Ron, welcome back," said the half-giant. "Would yeh be feelin' up ter a visit?"
"Oh. Um, we were just… talking," Ron stammered.
"Who says yeh've got ter stand outside in the cold? Come on, yeh can use my cabin."
Ron looked very uncomfortable. "Um, thanks, but I think I'd rather not."
"Oh, yeh don' have ter worry about me," said Hagrid. "S'all righ, I already know."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged nervous glances. "Know what?" said Harry.
Hagrid leaned down to look Harry in the eye. "About Professor Thornby. She was yer guardian."
The students gaped at him. "Why didn't you tell us that you knew?" exclaimed Hermione.
"Wasn't allowed," said Hagrid. "Dumbledore's orders. Besides, Harry, yeh don' think she was the only person lookin' out for yeh?"
"You're our friend," said Ron. "Why wouldn't Dumbledore let you tell us?"
Hagrid raised one busy eyebrow. "Now, I'm not goin' ter let yeh fool me into sayin' more than I ought. I think Dumbledore's plannin' on tellin' yeh some things soon, 'specially now that Professor Thornby's in Azkaban." He shuddered beneath his moleskin overcoat. "Terrible shame. Just terrible. I hate ter think of her in that awful place. So… what do yeh say? I've got some hot apple cider an' some nice cookies. Chocolate chip."
"Oh, let's!" said Ginny. Harry smiled to himself; she had obviously never tried Hagrid's cooking before.
"Well… okay," said Ron.
The cabin wasn't far off. When they entered Fang barked joyfully and jumped all over everyone. "Down, Fang!" Hagrid ordered. The dog obeyed, but he practically quivered with excitement where he sat. His huge tail wagged from side to side, thwacking loudly against a table leg.
The students settled themselves on the huge, hairy sofa while Hagrid ladled cider out of a pot above the fire. "Here," he said, passing mugs around. "An' try the cookies, too. I think yeh'll like 'em."
Everyone save Ginny exchanged dubious glances. She took a cookie from the plate Hagrid offered and opened her mouth to take a bite. Harry winced, expecting her to break at least one tooth, but he wasn't expecting what she said next.
"Oh, these are wonderful!" said Ginny around a mouthful of cookie. The others looked at each other in surprise.
"Here, pass that round," said Fred. Harry took a cookie when it came his way and bit in. Sure enough, the dough was soft and the taste of melted chocolate hit his tongue.
"Wow, Hagrid!" said Hermione. "These are really good!"
"Really good," said Ron, wolfing down the rest of his. "Pass that plate back."
Hagrid beamed down at them. "I've been practicin'," he said proudly. "Had a little help from the house-elves."
Ron looked from the plate of warm cookies to the pot of cider on the fire. "Is there any chance you did all this for me?" he said.
Hagrid smiled beneath his wiry mane of black hair. "Yeah. I thought yeh might not want ter go on up to yer room straight off," said the half-giant. "Besides, yeh haven't been down ter visit in a while. Thought maybe I could tempt yeh."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all donned guilty faces. "We're really sorry," said Harry.
Hagrid chuckled. "Don' worry about it. S'like I told yeh before – yeh got ter do well on yer O.W.L.s, and I'm sure yeh've all got loads on yer minds."
"So if you knew about what Professor Thornby was doing here, then you must have known what she was," said Ron. Hagrid nodded. Ron drew a deep breath. "So you know about me, too?"
"That I do, lad," Hagrid said gently.
"Have you made a decision?" asked George.
Ron stared down into his mug. "I have," he said. "My answer is no."
Harry and Hermione blinked in surprise while Ron's siblings simply looked uncertain. "You don't want to learn?" said Harry.
"I don't necessarily mean no forever, I just mean not now," said Ron uncomfortably. "There's lots of reasons. First of all, it's illegal."
"Ron," Hermione said reproachfully, but he cut her off.
"It is," he said. "I know it's a stupid law, but it's still the law. Second, I don't know how I'd get to practice. I guess Bellaton would teach me here at school, but I'd have to make sure that no one else knew what I was doing. That sounds way too complicated to me. And third… I just really don't want to right now."
"That's allowed, yeh know," said Hagrid.
"I'm not ready," Ron said, growing more agitated. "Every morning I wake up and remember what I am, and it scares me. I'm still having a hard time believing it."
"Don' let it define who yeh are," said Hagrid. "Jus' think of it as somethin' yeh can do. It's a talent, not yer entire bein'."
"But Bellaton and Professor Thornby always –"
"I know how they define themselves, but yer not ready for that," said Hagrid. "Give it time. Maybe someday yeh'll let Singin' into yer life, an' maybe it'll be big enough to change the way yeh think about yerself. Maybe it won't. Yeh'll just have ter wait an' see."
Ron frowned at his cider. "I knew this was coming. I just wish I could've been something else."
"Singers were once among the most respected of wizards," said Ginny.
"Yeah, but they're not now, are they?" said Ron. "What's the good of having a talent you can't use for fear you'll be arrested? How does that help anybody?"
"If Singers were respected once, they can be respected again," said Hagrid. "Look at yer professors. Two straighter arrows yeh couldn't find. Yes, people are afraid o' what they can do, but they've also seen Professor Thornby stand up against a known Death Eater! Read the Daily Prophet – some people are callin' for Fudge's head! Yer professors'll change people's minds about Singers, mark my words."
"Two people trying to change centuries of prejudice?" Ron said doubtfully.
"Aye, but they're special people," said Hagrid. "Give 'em a chance. They might surprise yeh."
"So... what do you guys think?" Harry said to the twins and Ginny.
"Dad, Bill, and Charlie seem excited," said Fred. "Mum and George and I… we're not so sure."
"Neither am I," said Ginny. "And now Mum and Dad are wondering if anyone else in the family is a Singer."
"What?" said Harry.
"Things like this tend to run in families," said Hermione.
"I thought this was just… fate, or something," said Harry. "The prophecy, you know."
"A prophecy won't preclude anyone else from havin' the talent," said Hagrid. "An' since there's so many of yeh Weasleys, the odds are a little better that there could be more'n one."
"Mum and Dad said that they wouldn't worry too much about it just yet," said Ron. "They're still getting used to me."
"Do you remember much of what happened?" Hermione asked quietly.
"Yeah," said Ron. "It hurt. A lot." He looked away, and it was plain that he wasn't going to say any more. Fred, George, and Ginny looked pained.
"At least yer safe," said Hagrid. "It was no small price to pay, but yer safe."
"What are they doing to get her out?" Ron asked sadly.
"Dumbledore went back ter Azkaban today," said Hagrid. "Said he was bringin' our professor some readin' material. It helps ter have somethin' ter do… keeps yer mind off where yeh are. I don' know when the Wizengamot'll hear her case. I don' know much about legal stuff, but I think a lot has ter happen before yeh get to a full trial. Yeh'd have ter ask Dumbledore." He rubbed his hands together a few times and picked up his own mug of cider. "Enough about all that," he said. "Hand me a cookie an' tell me how yer classes are goin'."
An hour later, Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys left Hagrid's cabin and headed back to the castle. Ron was still shying away from the idea of returning to Gryffindor Tower, but the others assured him that he wouldn't be bothered too much. "Everyone's curious, but Dumbledore stood up at dinner last night and forbade the whole school from asking you questions," said Harry.
"I wish he could forbid the Daily Prophet from asking questions," Ron muttered. "Every day I was at home, reporters showed up wanting to interview me and my parents. Mum and Dad said no every time, but they just kept coming. After a while Dad wanted to run them off with a few hexes, but Mum wouldn't let him. She said it would only make things worse for Professor Thornby."
They climbed stairs until they reached the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady greeted them all and asked for the password. "Well, here goes," said Ron. "Malfoy Is A Slimy Git!" The portrait swung open.
Ron had barely taken three steps before he was mobbed by Gryffindors from every year coming up to say hello. No one asked him any questions, though, and Ron eventually lost his wary demeanor. "Right. Thanks," he said, trying to separate himself from all the students. "Got to get back to work. Lots to catch up on, you know."
Five minutes later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were on their way to the library. "There now. That wasn't so bad, was it?" said Hermione, sounding more than a little bit bossy.
"Not really," said Ron, but Harry thought his friend looked more than a little bit pleased at the welcome.
"Well, you did miss a lot this week," said Hermione. "Two new potions, an essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts, a ton of reading for Astronomy, charm work –"
"Hermione, do you think there's any way you could make me feel a little bit more overwhelmed?" said Ron. "Because I don't think I have enough on my plate as it is."
"The work's not going anywhere," Hermione said defensively. "The O.W.L.s will be here before you know it."
"No kidding," said Ron, rolling his eyes. "I'll bet you've got a countdown going." Hermione turned red, and Ron gaped. "You do? I was kidding!"
"How many days have we got?" said Harry with a grin.
"Eighty-four," said Hermione.
"Could you give that to us in hours?" snickered Harry.
"Figure it out yourself," Hermione said airily. "Eighty-four times twenty-four. Do it in your head."
"Sounds like plenty of time to me," said Ron. "You know, I don't really feel like doing work right now. What do you say to heading back to the common room for a game of Wizard Chess?"
"Ron!" Hermione cried.
Ron laughed. "Only joking. I knew you'd react like that."
"You big oaf," she retorted.
"Admit it, you're glad I'm back," Ron teased.
"I'll admit it," said Harry. "School wasn't any fun without you around."
"Come on, Hermione," said Ron. "If it weren't for me, you'd probably never leave the library."
"Oh, all right," Hermione grumped. "I'm very glad to see you, you know that. But you're really insufferable sometimes!"
"All the time, I hope," chuckled Ron.
Harry could see the entrance to the hallway up ahead. He stopped walking, and his friends stopped with him. "There's something we should tell you about," said Harry. "I didn't know if we should say it in front of Ginny and the twins or not."
"Oh, yes," said Hermione. "Bellaton told us about Professor Thornby's family."
"What about it?" said Ron. Harry and Hermione told him what they had learned. By the time they finished, Ron was shaking his head. "Blimey," he said. "And she never said anything."
"Would you want to go around advertising something like that?" said Harry. "To be fair, she did tell me that her family was killed by Voldemort's followers. She didn't lie, she just left some things out. I guess I'm not surprised, now that I know."
"Dumbledore sure has a lot of friends who've been through the wringer," said Ron.
"That's exactly what I said!" Hermione exclaimed, smiling over at him.
"Cool," said Ron. "Maybe some of your brains are starting to rub off on me."
"They're your own brains," said Hermione. "You just never knew you had them."
Ron grinned. "Come on, let's get to it. I've got enough Charms alone to keep me busy for a week."
**********
Eighty-four days did sound like a lot of time, but Harry soon realized that it really wasn't much. The professors piled work upon the fifth years like layers of winter clothing even as the days grew warmer and crocuses poked their way out of the earth. Harry and his friends spent many a cool spring day in the library with their classmates while the other students frolicked outside.
Harry found that he had no trouble concentrating on his work. He had both his friends to keep him on track and he was determined to get into the Auror corps, but it was his guardian's imprisonment that really spurred him on. Weeks passed and no word came from Dumbledore. Harry knew that the headmaster was doing whatever could be done, but he was growing frustrated and angry. The Daily Prophet had not forgotten about Professor Thornby, and it was Harry's only source of news on the subject. Apparently Dumbledore was having a hard time getting her case on the docket. The Wizengamot had suddenly been flooded with backlogged cases and unresolved matters, and while they slogged through Professor Thornby waited in Azkaban. It was all Fudge's doing, Harry was sure; the Minister was throwing up roadblocks to keep her case from being heard. Harry wasn't the only one who was outraged; the editorial pages were filled with angry letters from the Weasleys' friends calling for a hearing immediately. Yet the weeks went by and the Ministry ignored the outcry. Harry wondered why Fudge was allowing such a thing to dent his reputation. He thought that the Minister would have attempted some kind of damage control by now, but he seemed hell bent on dragging the process out for as long as possible.
The other professors were rallying behind Professor Thornby's cause as well. As Dumbledore's efforts continued to be thwarted, they could increasingly be heard muttering about what they'd like to do with Fudge given five minutes alone with him. Professor Sprout told Ron that she'd sent a potted purple crocus with Dumbledore on his last visit to Azkaban. Professor McGonagall stalked the halls in a foul temper, often conferring with Dumbledore or Bellaton. Even Professor Trelawney jumped into the fray, telling her classes that the planets' alignment was a portent of good fortune for the missing professor.
On one beautiful April morning Harry, Ron, and Hermione received the Daily Prophet as usual and divided it up to look for news. Harry, who had the front page, saw something that made his eyebrows rise, but Hermione spoke up before he could say anything.
"Look, Ron! There's a letter in here from your dad!"
"What?" said Ron.
"Here in the letters to the editor," Hermione said excitedly, pointing at the parchment. They all leaned over to read.
Dear Sir,
As I am sure you are aware, I have a unique interest in the outcome of Professor Thornby's case. I have been following the recent proceedings at the Wizengamot very carefully. After observing the court's inaction, I felt it was my duty to write and join the growing numbers of witches and wizards who are expressing their outrage at the gross miscarriage of justice being perpetrated by our very own government.
It has been six weeks since my son was saved from certain death by Celeste Thornby, who was arrested for doing so on the very same night. The circumstances of her arrest are deplorable. Our government used the premise of a brand new law that was kept secret from the populace to ensnare her. And what has she done, other than defend my son against the attack of a confirmed Death Eater? She exercised a talent that inspires fear in the hearts of many, but she used it to do good rather than harm. After the way she was rewarded for her efforts, I cannot blame her for keeping her ability a secret.
I, like so many others, am dumbfounded by the Ministry's refusal to bring her case to the forefront. To imprison someone for an innate ability is absurd. Good and evil lie in the choices that men make, not in their innate abilities. We have jailed a Singer because she has an advantage over other wizards. By the same token, all witches and wizards should be jailed because we have an advantage over Muggles. Why do we imprison her and let known Death Eaters walk free? Where is the manhunt for John Grayson? You would think that it was Miss Thornby who had cursed my son.
In writing this letter, I am fully aware that I will soon lose my job at the Ministry, but it doesn't concern me much. I am embarrassed to work for a government that seeks to subjugate its citizens. I call upon the Wizengamot to immediately hear Professor Thornby's case and restore dignity to the Ministry of Magic.
Sincerely,
Arthur Weasley
Ron whistled. "He's already been fired, I'm sure."
"Wow," said Hermione. "It's even more powerful coming from your own family, Ron. This letter could really make a difference."
Harry didn't say anything because he had nothing to say. He was incredibly grateful for Mr. Weasley's statement of support, especially knowing what it might have cost him. Then again, if Mr. Weasley was as disgusted with the Ministry as he said he was, the pill might not have been quite so bitter.
Ginny came walking up followed by the twins. "I see you've read the editorial," she said.
"Yeah," said Ron.
"Well, Dad was right – he's been fired," said Ginny. She held up a small parchment. "We got a note from Mum."
"Are they okay?" Hermione said worriedly.
"They'll be fine," Fred said stoutly. "Mum's behind Dad on this."
"I'm so proud to be a Weasley right now," said George. "He did the right thing."
"I'm proud of him too, but…" Ron dropped his voice to a whisper. "That's one less ally Dumbledore's got inside the Ministry."
"Mum says Dumbledore gave it his blessing," said Ginny. "Dad was willing to stay if he had to, but he really wanted to write the letter."
"Not that I want to change the subject or anything, but I saw something on the front page and breakfast is almost over," said Harry. "Mr. Malfoy is claiming that he's found a rare artifact that can control Singers."
"What?" everyone said in unison.
"It's called a Constrictor," said Harry, scanning through the article. "Apparently the wizard who controls it decides when the wearer will speak."
"The wearer?" said Fred.
Harry scanned the article further and recoiled in disgust. "Ugh, it's a collar!"
"They wouldn't," said Ginny, looking horrified.
"They would," George said darkly.
"I guess they can't deny her the right to speak in her own defense, so they'll use this to keep her from Singing," said Harry.
"That's so degrading!" said Hermione.
"Good morning," said a voice behind them. Everyone turned to see Professor McGonagall standing there with her usual firm expression.
"Good morning, Professor," they chorused.
"Potter, Weasley, I need to speak to you for a moment," she said. Harry and Ron looked at the others, but the only response was a few shrugged shoulders. They followed their Head of House out of the Great Hall and into the Transfiguration classroom where she shut the door behind her.
"Tomorrow morning you will dress in your neatest, cleanest school robes and shoes and accompany me to the Ministry of Magic," said Professor McGonagall. "You will be excused from your classes."
Harry and Ron stared at her in confusion. "Why?" said Ron.
"The headmaster has decided that it is time for action. Tomorrow we will bring Professor Thornby before the Wizengamot. This won't be a trial," she said, "but it will be a beginning."
"Why am I going?" said Harry.
"You were nearly the victim yourself, so the matter concerns you as well," said Professor McGonagall. "More than that, though – you are a symbol of opposition to Minister Fudge."
"A symbol?" said Harry in disbelief.
"You heard me," said Professor McGonagall. "The headmaster cannot be with us tomorrow, and we want to remind the Wizengamot of who they're opposing. You will be representing him."
Harry laughed nervously. "You're joking. They're not opposing me, they're opposing Dumbledore."
"You underestimate your importance," Professor McGonagall said gravely. "No matter what lies have been printed about you in the past, you are still the Boy Who Lived. Your public allegiance with Dumbledore is a great asset to him. Don't you realize that? You are a person of great worth and renown, Potter!"
"But –"
"Seven thirty sharp," said Professor McGonagall. "And for heaven's sake, make sure you both fix your hair! Now, off to class with you."
"Well, aren't you special?" Ron jested as they left the Transfiguration classroom.
Harry was suddenly very nervous. He was relieved that Professor Thornby's case was finally going to move forward, but to be Dumbledore's stand-in… It was an honor, of course, but he didn't feel smart or old enough to be put in this position. It sounded like he was going to be stuck there whether he wanted it or not, so now all he could do was hope that he didn't let anyone down.