Disclaimer: JK's. Not mine.
Author's notes: I won't lie. I don't like Ron in the books. Maybe its because I don't feel he's given enough growth...he just seems too flat. I have nothing to work from and nothing to make up. But I tried. I am not too fond of this chapter, though I really thought it was Ron's turn. It took me a long time because I was having so many problems getting in character with him. Um...I'm sorry about the delays with my chapters lately. Question: Ginny, Bill, Charlie, or someone else I haven't used? (Once I finish with everyone necessary, I'm going to start with the chars I already have used, reverse order.)
Btw...can you tell I have a fascination with twins yet?
"Brunhilda?!"
"Yes."
"For Rowena?" Harry considered a moment. I was giving him the deal of a lifetime, really. "Well," he considered.
His consideration was interrupted by twin cracks.
I glare at the twins. They aren't supposed to be doing that anyway, it didn't matter that they are completely invading my personal space...which may have been because they happened to have landed on me and the cards.
They give me apologetic looks and extract themselves carefully, trying to avoid any further damage.
"What do you want?" I grumble. But I should know better. I saw their apologetic looks, right? Since when have they ever apologized to me?
"Ron, it's Percy," Fred says, watching the door.
"There's something...off about him," George murmurs.
"Like he's the biggest prat ever? Hmph. I knew that."
Harry stares. "What do you mean?" He's always taken them a bit more seriously than I have. It doesn't matter how many times I've pestered him about taking things too seriously, he just doesn't seem to realize that a sense of humor would be good for him.
"We think he's after Remus."
"After him?" Harry and I question in unison.
"Yeah. Out to get him..."
"Knock him off..."
"Help him kick the bucket..."
"We get the idea," I growl. They're really grinding on my nerves.
"Sorry..." George mumbles.
I blink. There's something wrong. Very wrong. They must really be worried. "Why?"
"Because I am! Just appreciate you got a sorry...I tell you, Fred...You try to be nice, figuring that it'll--" George snarled defensively, albeit mockingly.
"I meant 'why do you think Percy is after Remus?'" I ask quietly.
"Because we saw him sneaking around."
"That's a bit unfair," Harry interrupts. We all turn to stare.
"He was carrying his wand and he kept mumbling something."
"Looked real nervous too."
"What were you two doing up?" I realise this hasn't been asked yet.
"George and I have important business to attend to!" Fred declares with a grin.
Harry and I exchange looks of exasperation.
"Fred and I wanted to know what Dad and Remus talked about," George admitted.
Fred stared. "You're acting strange."
George returned the stare. "I don't want Remus to die."
"Neither do I."
"Then act like it."
They return from their side conversation back to us. Sometimes I wonder if twins would ever need anyone beside their sibling. They seem less like individuals and more like parts of one another. But then, I know how different they are. I know George is usually more likely to follow along with what Fred says. I know George would rather make the products than come up with them. I know Fred is more likely to look at broom models, while George looks at art supplies...which I did catch him doing once...
"We're going to catch him."
"If necessary, take him down."
Harry and I turn back to one another, eyes wide. Did they say what we think we heard?
"Are you with us?"
"Or do we get to test out our latest product?" They grin maliciously. I know they will too.
"We're in," Harry says firmly. He didn't even see their looks, which were likely meant for me anyway.
Percy pushes his oatmeal from one end of the bowl to the other. The twins are at the end of the table, murmuring and frequently looking up at us. Harry seems to have lost it on the edge of the table, staring as if it were the most important thing in the world.
Me? I'm more interested in the lovely young woman who happened to sit next to me, with an equally loving look that I give her.
I hear Fred mumble, "That's positively disturbing."
George responds, "Really...ickle Ronniekins found someone before you did."
They're lost in a flurry of laughter and friendly punches.
I'm lost in her beautiful brown eyes, the halo of brown sugar hued twirling strands. "Mione..." I murmur. I know I meant to say 'good morning', but her name is far more beautiful? Don't you agree?
She giggles, pressing her lovely lips to my cheek, nearly waking me up from my entranced state. "Good morning, Ron."
I hum, embracing myself as I turn back to my breakfast. Gaze falls upon Percy. He's staring.
Don't look at me...You don't deserve to. Despite what Mum thinks, you aren't my brother.
He sighs and looks back to his oatmeal.
Was it then? Then that I realised his wand was lying next to his bowl? Is that what the twins were whispering about moments before the pseudo-fight broke out?
I reach under the table, grabbing Hermione's hand, foot breaks loose to kick Harry, and gaze is turned upon the twins, who have finally come to their senses and now sit, smirking.
Harry nearly falls out of his chair, just barely recovering with Percy's help, his eyes widen the moment he sees the wand. Hermione follows my stare first to the twins and then the wand. She narrowed her eyes.
Fred and George haven't noticed me staring. I clear my throat, calling out, "Oi...Fred, George...P-pass the butter." Why was my voice unusually hoarse?
The twins look up. I nod ever so slightly towards Percy's wand. They return the nod. Unfortunately, they forget about my request.
"I know you are both next to manner-less, but I believe Ron asked you for the butter," Percy sneers softly.
They look up. They have their wands out.
Harry is fingering his in his pocket. I can see it.
Even I hold mine, clutched to my palm tightly.
Percy's face goes white.
"Don't move..." George warns softly.
"If you do..." Fred continues.
"You're hippogriff bait," I complete. I see the twins acknowledge me with malicious grins. Apparently they approve of my wording.
Percy puts up his hands slowly, standing even slower.
"Why are you really here?" Harry asks quietly.
"F-father's been asking around the Regulations Bureau...Raised suspicions. H-he's...He's in the Final! He has to be...k-k-k..." Percy stares at the table too hard. His eyes are too glossy.
"Finish the Merlin-damned sentence, Perc."
Percy looks at me surprised. "He has to be p-put down."
"HE'S NOT AN ANIMAL!" Hermione screeches at the top of her lungs. Before I realize it, she's on her feet beside me, wand pointed and trembling. Tears are streaming down her cheeks, and I swear I see fire ablaze in her eyes.
"But..."
"What's the excuse now, Percy?" Fred growls.
"Is it procedure? The proper way to rid yourselves of lycanthropy sufferers? Is it, Perc? Well...?" George stands, knocking his chair back, looking far more maniacal than I ever wished to see any of my brothers look.
Someone opens the door, shrieking at the top of her lungs, "STUPEFY!" I can almost swear other voices echo the woman's, but hers stands out above all of them.
The world goes dark.