Shadows

Chapter Twenty-One

Two Roads Diverged

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, just as fair. -Robert Frost

I was cold. My life was basically over and the only thing that I could think of was how cold I felt. Not even that numb like cold that people feel in shock…I was just that regular I need a blanket kind of cold.

Hermione was gone. Not gone because she had to leave out of danger, gone because she had wanted to leave. Wanted to get as far away from me as possible. It was my fault too; she would have stayed if I had asked her. She had come to see me, she had obviously wanted to tell me something important…and I treated her like some sort of whore that I was dismissing with ease.

I looked down at my arm, this was my life now. Hermione, nor anyone else, had any reason left to believe that I was a death eater for any other reasons than that of my own free will. Whom was I supposed to report to? Whom was I supposed to "spy" for? Mark was probably a bloody death eater as well…Dumbledore, well I hadn't even spoken to him. If Mark was who You-Know-Who claimed him to be then Dumbledore probably had no knowledge of my activities or whereabouts.

I was completely alone. Well, not completely…Melissa was still here. Not that I particularly wanted to speak to her. I had told her to leave, she hadn't. Something about how I shouldn't be alone.

Trudging out of my room I went downstairs with the intentions of forcing Melissa out. There was something about being in your house with someone else there who you weren't entertaining…it just felt awkward.

"Melissa," I called through the house, wincing at how pathetic and horse my own voice sounded. There was no answer so with a sigh I continued into the kitchen, she was probably in there eating my food. And why shouldn't she? After all, she had encouraged and coerced me into ruining my life; she might as well eat me out of house and home as well.

Opening the door to the kitchen my beliefs were confirmed, she was indeed in the kitchen. With Mark. How very…fitting for this day.

"Ron," they both stood, looking uncomfortable.

I closed my eyes for a moment. "This is a nightmare," I mumbled, "a horrible dream that will end shortly." I opened my eyes and promptly pinched my arm. It was real…damn; the dream theory seemed so nice. Except, maybe it was a dream, a dream where I could feel the pain of a pinch. Perhaps I was one of those people that inflict violence on themselves while they sleep, and that is why I felt the pinch. Or maybe-

"Ron," Mark was repeating.

I really wished that he would just sit there and allow me to reason my way into turning a bad situation into a delusion. Delusions and dreams are so lovely; they make you appreciate things when they are over. But no, he had to be there tromping all over my hopes.

"What," I said shortly, "are you all here to drag me on one of those muggle talk shows so that you can screw up my life some more? Maybe you found a third cousin of mine that is a transsexual and is in love with me? Only in a zany and unexpected twist said third cousin is already in a relationship with the dark lord and in his love for me he will start a worldwide war that only I can put an end to."

"Ron-"

"How many times are you going to say my name," I snapped in sarcastic irritation. "It's just bloody annoying you know, 'Ron, Ron, Ron' pick a new word!"

Mark looked downright pissed. He picked up a nearby plate just to throw it down. I opened my mouth to let him know that he was going to replace that plate, but he beat me to it. "Shut up," he said darkly, "and sit down. Now."

"You broke my plate," I mumbled uselessly as I slid onto a stool.

"Ron," Melissa said gently as she put her hand on my arm. I quickly jerked my arm away; there was no reason for her to be touching me. "I'm sorry that this is hurting you, Ron, but you have to understand that-"

"Oh, put a cork in it," Mark said looking angrier than before. "Leave the boy alone, Melissa, and just stay out of the conversation unless you have something productive to add to it."

"Typical," Melissa said, her attitude changing quickly from sympathetic to indigent, "that is so typical of you, Mark. You have to pick a fight with me now of all times. Don't you think that we have more important things to be discussing right now?"

"You mean like how you won't let me see my son? You're right, that is more important, why don't we discuss that?"

"Yeah," she responded sarcastically, "now is just a great time to open up that can of worms."

"Stop it," I interrupted as I allowed my head to fall onto the table in a mix of depression and sorrow. "I really don't care about your little family feud."

"We're not a family," they answered simultaneously.

Noticing that the point of my comment seemed to fly over both of their heads I reverted to the friend that will always be waiting in the wings for you: bluntness mixed with extreme annoyance. "This is the equivalent of banging my head against a brick wall. Here is an idea that will make everyone happy, how about the two of you leave and I will stay here? Brilliant, isn't it?"

"It has certain advantages," Mark agreed readily, "but no dice. We all need to talk, Ron. There are some things that you have been left out of the loop on…and maybe you shouldn't have."

"Out of the loop, no dice," I repeated lazily, "could you possibly use a few more clichéd lines?"

Melissa sighed and rested her head on her hand, "why must I be surrounded by idiots?"

"That's Mark's job, Melissa. He probably feels like it's his sworn duty to use clichéd, worn out phrases for all of us to enjoy and mock."

Mark opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, and then closed it again. "Humorous as this all is, we have something important to tell you, Ron."

"By all means then, tell me."

He looked towards Melissa and then looked back at me. "Well, we--that is I--wanted to tell you that…you began this job under false pretenses."

I gasped loudly, "you mean I'm not really working for Dumbledore?! That is…that is…something that I already knew. I'm not a complete moron you know, I figured that out all on my own."

"You already knew that?" Melissa questioned incredulously, "how?"

"I don't feel that I have to explain anything to you. I know because I'm smart enough to have skills of deduction. This isn't about me explaining things though; this is the two of you finally giving me some answers."

Mark stood up, "well that's all we wanted you to know."

"Too bad. I am sick and tired of being your damn puppet; you are going to start answering my questions. The two of you can take your share of my recently suicide invoking life changes, so now you are going to sit here and answer all of my questions. And when I'm finished you are both going to leave my house and not contact me again."

"Actually," Mark interjected, "it would be my house…being that I bought it and all."

Melissa glared at him darkly, "Mark, be quiet and let Ron ask his questions."

Now that I had their attention…I wasn't entirely sure what I wanted to ask. It's one thing to be angry and demand answers, but it's an entirely different thing to have someone offer to answer them for you. "So," I stalled for a moment. "How about you tell me the real deal between the two of you?"

"The 'real deal'" Mark sneered, "between Melissa and myself? That is what you want to know, is this gossip hour or did you really want to find answers about your life and why Voldemort is after you?"

"Maybe he should know," Melissa said quietly. "It is somewhat relevant."

"It is not relevant in the least. I am not going to sit here and rehash a history that no one cares about."

Melissa stood up and walked to the door leading out of the kitchen. "I'm going outside to get some air," she called behind her back as she left.

I looked pointedly at Mark. "I'd really love to hear this history," I said with a smile that I didn't feel. "Sounds downright fascinating."

He glared at me, but his glare turned into something else as he stared at the door where Melissa had been a minute before. "Do you think she's alright? Maybe I should go talk to her…"

"I thought you didn't care. You know, I really thought Hermione and I had the award for strangest relationship wrapped up, but you two are the dark horse of this imaginary competition."

Not hearing me, he walked out of the kitchen, "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Well," I said to no one at all, "glad that so much was explained to me here." I hopped off the counter and creped over to the front door; I wasn't above a little eavesdropping now and then.

I took out my wand and remembered a useful spell that Fred and George had taught me that made it very convenient and comfortable to spy on others. "Medwella," I muttered lowly. A bubble-like shape appeared in front of me with Mark and Melissa in the center of it. I lead the bubble over to the sofa with me and watched the figures as the volume rose from inside the bubble on my command.

"Mark," Melissa said with a sigh, "I just can't do this."

"Do what," he responded, "be outside?"

"Be serious for once…I can't be here with you. You hate me, and you are not exactly my favorite person anymore. You cannot just appear and act like nothing has changed. You cannot sit and joke with me and then turn back into bastard mode. You made your choice, and you didn't choose me…which is regrettable to be sure, but I'll survive. I always do."

"Bullshit," he said angrily, "I had no choice! Would you rather had me sacrifice Perseus or our relationship? I don't know what you want of me, Melissa; I have done everything that I can. I risk my life everyday-"

"I never asked you to do that! All I ever wanted you to be was someone who could be with me, but you've never been able to do that. First, you were working for Dumbledore, and then you were so consumed by your hatred and thirst for revenge that you couldn't see straight. Maybe you didn't have a choice, but if you did, you would have never chosen me."

Mark looked away, and for the first time he appeared to be defeated. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I'm not enough…I've never been able to measure up to anyone's standards, least of all my own. I know that I've failed you-"

"Stop it," she said, her voice rising, "I don't want to hear this self-pity from you. Jesus, Mark, the only person you have ever failed is you." She rubbed her eyes to keep from crying, "like I said, I can't do this with you right now. We better get back to Ron."

He still looked dejected. "What do you think of Ron?"

Melissa smiled briefly, "I think he'll do."

"Me too."

I saw them turn towards the house and quickly got rid of the bubble. They entered the front door together as I was attempting to piece together everything that I had heard. Obviously, there was more between them than I had originally thought. Shaking it off I decided that I would have to wait and think about it later.

"So," I greeted, "how about you all tell me the nice story about how the dark lord came to the decision to mark rape me."

They sat down in separate chairs. "Well," Melissa began, "he's always known about you. Not you specifically, of course, just the idea of you. He has always searched for the true seer that he knew would be born during his reign. While he was searching though, he became obsessed with the idea and power behind a true seer; he put countless people on the task of researching past seers and finding out the extent of their gifts. I guarantee that he knows far more about your abilities than you do."

"Obviously," I responded dryly, "all he would have to know to know more than me on the subject would be one thing above nothing."

"Anyway," Mark took over. "So he put a large group of his best people on the task of finding the true seer. Melissa and I were included in that group. It was I who found you, in your sixth year at Hogwarts."

"My sixth year? How?"

"We have ways, that's not important though. He could never get to you because you were constantly under the protection of Dumbledore. Even when you weren't at school, you still had his protection. Therefore, when Dumbledore attempted to recruit you, I knew exactly where he would send you. There is a man who is one of the most powerful seers of the times, Dumbledore wanted to send you to him for training. He used the whole 'spy' gig as a cover-up, obviously didn't feel you were psychologically able to deal with your abilities. I intercepted and took you into a trainer/trainee situation."

"Oh." I responded dumbly, that was a lot of information to have to process at once. The whole thing didn't seem nearly as interesting now that I knew. The only thing I felt though was that of being snubbed that Dumbledore wanted to turn me into seer boy rather than a secret agent. How rude of him.

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A/N- btw, I actually did write this chapter…lol, just in case anyone was wondering. Thanks again to RonandHerm4eva for writing the last chapter, which was completely awesome. Sorry it took me so long to get back to this story, I've had some side projects going on. But I'm still into this story, and hopefully I'm not alone in that, lol. Hope that you enjoyed it and the some action will finally be starting up soon!