A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews, it's what keeps me going. Also, thanks for everyone who spoke out against the flames I received, one nice word can erase a thousand bad ones. Thanks to Angel for beta-ing. On another note, I've also started posting this story at Lord And Lady Snape is you want to check out that site at any time. And Sleeping Dragons Die- Huge thank you for your 'mini-essay' : )
19. Giving In
"Though a powerful and occasionally lethal sedative, the Cariathelas Vine, at
its most concentrated stage, can often be administered as a healing agent in
several common draughts and ointments. Unknown to many wizards, Muggles have
also discovered its healing properties, though all non-magical. In the Muggle
world, the vine goes by the name-"
Ron's quill stopped. What did Muggles call it? He drummed the feather against
the parchment, thinking. Try as he might, his mind was refusing to locate the
elusive name. Eventually, he gave up.
"Sod it." The quill flew across the room and Ron pushed the roll of parchment
from his lap in annoyance. He hadn't even been to Herbology today, but Professor
Sprout had sent him the homework by owl. At first, he'd tossed it aside but
Harry had arrived soon after and he'd used it as an excuse to avoid the
Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Leave-Him-Alone. According to him, Hermione was 'concerned' and wanted to see him.
Sod Hermione. Sod her sodding concern, Ron thought furiously. If she cared so
much, then why hadn't she made an appearance up here yet? The fact that it was
the boys' dormitory hadn't ever stopped her before. Even after that unfortunate
incident when she'd walked in on Dean and an issue of PlayWizard.
Ron flopped backwards, his head landing with a soft thump on the thick,
comfortable pillows. He was rolling onto his side, eyes closed, when the
fluttering of wings caused him to sit up again. Pigwidgeon flew through the
tower windows and landed at the foot of the bed, hopping excitedly and hooting
impatiently. A scroll was tied to his foot. Tiredly, Ron took it and shooed the
tiny owl. It was sealed with the Hogwarts insignia. He tore it open.
Mr. Weasley,
It has come to my attention that your attendance at class and meals of late has
been less than satisfactory. I assure you, any concern on the part of your
family, friends and teachers is not false, and I would advise you not to push it
aside.
I expect to hear that you attended your Transfiguration class this afternoon and
I would like to see you in my office directly afterwards for a much-needed
discussion.
Professor Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster of Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Something seemed to be lodged in his throat, for Ron was lost for words.
Dumbledore never missed a thing and he obviously hadn't missed his lackluster
attempt at picking up from where he'd been before he found out about Charlie.
His mood significantly unsettled, Ron stood up and went to find his
Transfiguration book.
"Nancy Winters?"
"Yes, Professor," answered the Slytherin brunette from her place at the back of
the class.
McGonagall marked down something in her notebook and then surveyed the desk
where the Golden Trio usually sat.
"Mr. Weasley is absent again, I see?" she asked, her lips thinning.
Harry nodded from beside a silent Hermione. McGonagall paused before putting the
notebook down on the table.
"If you could all take out your homework and- Mr. Weasley?"
Half the class's heads spun round towards the door. Ron, his face set and
expressionless stood there with his bag.
"Sorry, I'm late Professor."
With great resolution on her face, the Transfiguration mistress managed to let
it pass.
"I do not want to see you so delayed again, Mr. Weasley. Understand?"
Ron seemed to ignore her and went straight to his seat beside Hermione. He made
no eye contact with anybody and proceeded to gaze sullenly ahead. After
regarding him for a few moments, McGonagall continued with the lesson.
"Once you have all given me your homework, I want you to practice turning your
fully grown cats into kittens, demonstrating proper aging decrease, and then
returning them to their usual state. I shall be inspecting you all- please do
not look so agitated at the fact Mr. Zabini, it doesn't fill me with the
greatest confidence- and I will be severely disappointed if anybody cannot
complete the task admirably. You may start."
Clusters of students came to the front desk to hand in their essays and to
collect one of the many yowling felines from a large cage. Harry winced as the
tabby he was struggling to keep hold of reached out with a particularly vicious
looking claw. Beside him (though he might as well have been on a different
planet for the attention he was paying him) Ron grabbed a tortoiseshell by the
scruff of the neck and took it dangling to his desk, hissing and spitting.
Hermione, who had passed the task weeks before, was duplicating tadpoles in a
small tank. As Ron dropped the cat onto the desk, she bit her lip reproachfully.
"You shouldn't really hold him like that…" Immediately, she wanted to tape her
mouth shut. For all conversation starters, this wasn't the one she should have
chosen.
Ron froze for a second, his brow furrowed. It appeared as though he was going to
answer, but instead, he took out his wand and began to try the spell. She raised
an eyebrow at Harry. The way he was going about it looked painful; jabbing his
wand absently at the cat who was trying to frantically pull away from his
restrictive hand.
Seemingly unable to restrain herself, Hermione suddenly blurted out, "For
Merlin's sake, Ron, Stupefy it or you'll get your eyes scratched out."
"Then I wouldn't have to see your face again," snarled Ron nastily. Hermione
looked stunned. For a second, he felt a stab of guilt but pushed it away
quickly.
"There's no need to be so rude towards helpful advice, Mr. Weasley," came McGonagall's sharp voice from behind them.
Before he could stop himself, Ron muttered, "What do you know?"
McGonagall's lips pursed even more. "Mr. Weasley! One more comment like that and
you're out of my classroom!"
Ron didn't answer, but as she turned, everyone in the class clearly heard his
low, uncalled for "Do you really think I care, you old hag?"
McGonagall looked beyond furious, her cheeks pinched white and her eyes
straining their sockets in anger. Draco Malfoy was grinning like it was his
birthday. The rest of the class held their breaths. It was rare that somebody
crossed the Head of Gryffindor in such a way that it was akin to entertainment.
"Mr. Weasley! I will not tolerate such shocking impertinence in my class! Take
yourself outside until you can control yourself and your tongue!"
There was few still seconds of absolute silence. Then Ron released the cat and
picked up his bag.
"Gladly!" Pushing roughly past a shocked Hermione and Harry, Ron made his way to
the door and slammed it heavily behind him. The entire class sat wordlessly
until McGonagall rapped her wand sharply on her desk.
"Stop gawping! Back to work!"
Ron strode from the classroom fuming. What right did she have to tell him what
to do? How could she possibly know how he was feeling? After a few minutes of
pointless, angry steps, he slowed, his bag sliding lazily from his shoulder. He
did feel guilty for the way he'd treated Hermione, he wanted to apologise to her
and to McGonagall for acting like such a prat. He felt defeated, angry with
himself. Why hadn't he listened to his sister? Ron sighed and looked at his
watch. He was a little early, but he didn't think the Headmaster would mind.
"…and I have received word from Kingsley that the case will be settled within a
few days. There will be no compulsory attendance for Weasley or his family.
Charles will be accompanied by one of the Azkaban guards at all times, both to
and from the prison and they have been instructed to 'keep him in line' should
he overstep his boundaries."
Dumbledore nodded slowly to Snape's information. "Though I do not agree to the
use of force, I must concur that anything is better to the previous punishment."
"I don't necessarily agree, Headmaster. In some cases, the means to an end….is
just. But I believe Weasley has not made a biased decision."
"Arthur was always firmly set against the Dementors," remarked Dumbledore. "I
don't think he'd curse them on anyone, regardless whether they were family or
not."
Severus opened his mouth to answer, and then paused, frowning. Quickly, he
turned and pulled open the office door, causing a startled Ron Weasley to jump
backwards, one hand stationary in the air.
"Weasley. How did you get up here?"
"I-I guessed the password, sir, it's always the name of a sweet and I heard that
Dumbledore-"
"Professor Dumbledore," corrected Severus, examining the boy critically.
"Professor Dumbledore," continued Ron, with an edge in his voice, "liked those
new Tree-Hugger Truffles from Zonko's, so I just-"
"Made an accurate guess, obviously," finished Severus, raising an eyebrow. He
turned to Dumbledore, who was watching with a hint of a smile on his creased
face. "Really, Headmaster, these passwords are a tad inappropriate. Any student
could just waltz in whenever they liked."
"As is my intention, Severus," said Dumbledore. "And I do have an appointment
with Mr. Weasley…though he is incredibly punctual." He gave a questioning glance
to Ron.
"Professor, I…I was in Transfiguration…but I-"Ron looked awkwardly between the
Headmaster and the Potions teacher. Dumbledore held up a hand to stop him.
"I understand, Mr. Weasley. Severus, would you mind terribly if we discussed
this matter further at dinner?"
"There is nothing more to discuss, Headmaster. Besides, I will not be in the
castle this evening- I'd rather be back early in the morning, than the late
afternoon."
Dumbledore nodded. "Very well."
Severus let himself out of the office, leaving Ron standing uncomfortably before
the Headmaster.
"Take a seat, Mr. Weasley." Ron quickly went over to the chair in front of
Dumbledore's desk and sat down, facing the Headmaster's chair.
"I have addressed your sister two days, ago but I do believe it due time for you
and I to have a proper discussion relating to your brother. Do help yourself to
a sherbet lemon."
For the first time in his life, Ron accepted an offering of sweets from the
Headmaster, as a way of distraction from the impending conversation.
