A/N: I hope everyone enjoys the update. Please take the time to tell me what you think when you finish! And let me just say to all the repeaters that I really, really appreciate your continued feedback. It can be really hard to think of new things to say sometimes but some of you just keep on writing. Reviews are what keep authors excited about writing; to know that people are actually reading your work is a wonderful thing. So thanks to all of you who have reviewed – you guys are the only reason I put my ideas down on paper. Otherwise they would remain forever in my head, never fully realized.
krysalys73: You, of course, are a dear, sweet uber-repeater. I very much appreciate the comment that the writing is "clear" and "vibrant". I know I've said it before but I feel that I've really improved from when I first started posting. Personally I've been very satisfied with the way this story is coming out.
Seraphim: Yeah… Ron needs more than a few hugs. You'll want to give him more after this chapter, too. Which brother… you can probably figure that out from this chapter, but it will all get spelled out in the next one.
J Black: Thank you! Mmm, I love the "wow" reviews. :-)
starsmiles: I hope this bleak future doesn't make you (and everyone else) think that I am too pessimistic. On the contrary – I believe in happy endings, so this story will definitely end with hope.
kungzuone: Thank you, and here you go!
LovinsomeElrond: Hey, nice to see you again! Thanks for reviewing. I'm really happy to hear that you've enjoyed reading the other things I wrote. Everyone wants to be one of those authors that people read and bookmark.
TheLordDragon: Thank you so much! Yeah, this story will probably get updated faster than Dark Uprising just because it's newer, fresher and a nice change for me. Darn plot bunnies won't leave me be.
soquester: That was a really insightful comment about readers learning about the world along with Ron. It just naturally happened as a consequence of writing from Ron's POV. I've been toying with the idea of eventually having some interludes of Harry and Hermione's POV but I don't know if that will happen. Enjoy your vacation!
Reviewer: It must really stink when authors quit in the middle of the story. I posted chapter 7 of Dark Uprising last Friday, by the way. School's out? Ah, I remember when I used to be off for the summer…
Skye0906: Hi there! I haven't forgotten who you are. You were one of the first people to really start reviewing in earnest for Guardians and then all of a sudden you vanished (kind of like Ron). :-) A lot of ink has been spilled since you last reviewed… by a lot of people, I imagine. Anyway, it's nice to hear from you again and I'm glad you like the story so far!
Chapter Three: The Test
Neville and Ron carefully picked their way across the broken pavement of the street, heading back the way Ron had come. They could no longer hear the sound of the singing wizards, but Neville was still as tense as a tightly coiled spring. He kept close to the buildings and made sure that Ron did the same.
They reached an intersection. Neville motioned for Ron to keep back before he carefully peered around the corner. He looked in every direction for a few long moments – left, right, straight ahead, even up and down. Finally he leaned back, seeming satisfied. Without a word he opened a small pouch at his side and pulled out what Ron recognized as a silvery invisibility cloak. So he was following me! thought Ron.
"You'd better wear this," Neville said softly. "Between your shirt and your hair, you stand out a mile."
Ron looked down at his red-and-gold striped shirt. The dust and dirt that coated him did dim the colors a bit, but they were conspicuous next to the browns and grays that Neville was sporting. Ron took the cloak from Neville's outstretched hand and swung it about his shoulders.
"This is very important," Neville continued in that same soft voice. "From now on you must be absolutely silent. This part of town is really no more dangerous than most others, but you don't know what you're up against and I haven't got another cloak. Don't say anything until I give you the go-ahead. If anything happens to me, find Twenty-Six Mulberry Street and knock three times. And whatever you do, stay away from St. Paul's."
Ron didn't entirely understand, but he merely nodded and pulled the cloak over his head.
Neville peeked around the corner again, took another look, and then ducked around it. Ron followed, feeling a slight tug on the invisibility cloak as he did so. Looking down he saw that Neville was gripping a small handful of the fabric in one hand. They moved as quickly as they could while still hugging the walls of the buildings.
Ron's mind was spinning dizzily from the things he'd just heard. He wanted to ask questions but he'd given Neville his word that he'd keep his mouth shut. As a result he was forced to simply think about what he had learned, and slowly the pieces began to fall together.
Neville said that Ron had disappeared from Harry's birthday party ten years ago. All Ron knew was that he had been at the party one moment and the next he'd been at a ruined version of his house. If he had indeed traveled forward in time, then it explained a lot. He wasn't in another universe – he was in the future, and obviously a lot had happened in the ten years he had missed. For him they had passed in the blink of an eye and he was no older than he'd been at the party.
How exactly had he gotten into the future, though? This puzzle took a bit more thought for Ron to sort out. It had something to do with the Death Eater. Ron had collided with him, and that's when time had sped up so drastically. It was almost as if the man's robes had been a portkey or something.
No, thought Ron. If there had been a portkey we'd have ended up in another place, not another time. Something else must have happened. The Death Eater hadn't cast a spell on him; he had been smack in the middle of Avada Kedavra. With some relief Ron realized that he must have succeeded in interrupting the curse. Neville was taking him to see Harry, so Harry was still alive. Had anyone else cast a spell? Ron tried hard to remember. The Death Eater had done something to fell Kingsley, then he had started to curse Harry, and that's when Ron had charged him.
That didn't seem quite right. Something else had happened between the time Ron had started running and when he'd hit the Death Eater. Ron screwed up his nose, thinking hard, and the sound of someone shouting "Impedimentia" came floating back to him. That's right; he remembered now. The Death Eater had been lucky. The spell had hit the thing around his neck and it had shattered. The pieces had flown right into Ron's face –
A time-turner. Suddenly everything made perfect sense. The pieces of the hourglass had touched both Ron and the Death Eater and they had been catapulted through time. From what Ron knew about time-turners, they could be very unpredictable if broken. He was fortunate not to have been sent back to the days of the dinosaurs. The fact that the time-turner had been malfunctioning could also explain the fact that the Death Eater hadn't arrived in the same time as Ron. Maybe he got sent back to the prehistoric era, thought Ron. With grim satisfaction he imagined the man appearing in a nest of hungry pterodactyls. Maybe he'd become dinosaur chow thousands of years ago.
With that mystery solved, Ron's thoughts turned to his family. What had their fate been? It looked as if the clock had stopped when the house was destroyed, forever preserving the motions of his siblings and parents at that moment. Some of the hands had been fixed on "Mortal Peril", but just as many had been stuck at "Traveling". Ron suspected that they had probably been at the Burrow when it was attacked. Some of them had been fleeing when the clock was destroyed, and the others had yet been inside. Silently Ron prayed that they were all still alive. But the Burrow had clearly burned down years ago, and everything he'd seen since arriving in this time was evidence that a war was going on. Muggles were prisoners and wizards were their jailors. London was in shambles, and here was Neville, armed for battle. If his family had escaped the destruction of the Burrow, they'd have had a lot to live through afterward, too.
Ron and Neville had been walking for half an hour when Neville suddenly hissed, "Hide!"
Ron followed his lead and ducked behind a pile of stones and twisted metal. "What –" he whispered, but Neville only made an angry shushing motion and Ron shut his mouth. Then he heard what Neville must have noticed before – the sound of talking. It slowly grew louder as the owners of the voices approached, and soon the clanking of chains was again audible. Ron thought he knew what was coming. The column of shuffling prisoners, walking bent with heavy burdens on their backs, did not surprise him, but the men following them did. They did not wear robes but rather denim trousers and black shirts with the letters "MCF" embroidered in white upon the right breast. Were these men wizards? Ron couldn't be sure; magical folk did sometimes wear Muggle clothing, but these men didn't seem to have wands.
The prisoners slowly moved out of sight. Neville waited for a full five minutes after Ron could no longer hear them before coming out from behind the rubble.
After a few more minutes of walking Neville whispered, "Very close now." They were heading down a street that looked just like all the others to Ron; torn pavement and fallen lampposts were no longer a shocking sight. Halfway down the street Neville stopped their progress. "Here," he said softly.
"Where?" Ron whispered back. All the buildings were half-destroyed.
Neville pulled a small piece of parchment from his robes, used his wand to scribble a few words upon it, and handed it to Ron. "Read this aloud," he said, "but do it quietly."
"The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at Twenty-Five Mulberry Street," Ron recited. He looked over at Neville in confusion. "But earlier you said it was number..." He cut off as a tall brownstone suddenly appeared between two of the ruined buildings, squeezing them outward. The building, whole and undamaged, looked very strange amid the surrounding desolation.
Neville hustled Ron up the steps to the new building. Ron barely had time to register a brass knocker shaped like a bird in flight before the door had opened and he had been pushed inside. The foyer with its hardwood floor, flowered wallpaper, and burning oil lamps looked cheerful and welcoming after everything else that Ron had seen.
"Longbottom!" said a man's voice. "You're very late. We were starting to think that something had happened to you." Ron looked around and jumped when he found himself looking at the very last person he wanted to see – Severus Snape. The ten years Ron had missed lay heavily on the Potions master; his face was lined as it had not been before and there were streaks of gray at his temples. His hair was longer than ever, and Snape had tied it behind his head in a long tail. His frame did not seem quite as slender as it once had, but Ron doubted that the extra bulk was fat. There was an aura of toughness about Snape that had not been there before, one that was only enhanced by the numerous scratches that were healing on his face and neck. He looked as if he had only just come from a fight.
"I was delayed," Neville said flatly. "We have a guest tonight." He reached forward and gave a tug on the invisibility cloak which slithered off Ron's shoulders and puddled around his feet.
One heartbeat later Snape's wand was pointing straight at Ron. His expression was one that someone might wear while looking at a coiled viper. "What is this illusion?" he hissed.
"It's no illusion," said Neville. "This is Ron."
"I doubt that," said Snape. His voice was every bit as hard as his eyes, cold and unforgiving. "I suppose you just found him wandering about outside our headquarters?"
"Some distance away, actually," said Neville. "I thought he was a duplicate myself until I asked him to tell me something personal. And he delivered."
"The Legions have tried to infiltrate us before," said Snape, not looking the least bit convinced. "If he is an imposter, then he's a very good one, and the Tyrant has sunk lower than I could have imagined. If he is not... then he has a story to tell." The look on his face told Ron very plainly which one Snape thought he was.
"Let him see Harry," said Neville. "Bring one of his siblings in, too. Between them they should be able to decide whether he's the real thing or not." Ron's heart leapt in his chest. At least some of his family was still alive!
"And if he is an assassin?" said Snape. "We will be taking him straight to the person he's been sent to kill!"
"Please," said Neville, "give him the benefit of the doubt, if only because I say so. Set a guard; take his wand; you'll see he's not tried to use it."
"He still has his -?" Snape's eyes flashed. "Convincing as he may be, even you know better than that!"
Neville flushed a deep red. "You are right," he said deferentially. "My apologies." It was more than obvious to Ron that whatever had happened to the rest of the world, Snape could yet instill fear in his former pupils.
Snape turned his piercing black eyes upon Ron. "Keep your hands where I can see them," he said curtly. Ron did the only thing he could think of to show that he wasn't hiding anything; he raised both hands before him palm up while Snape confiscated his wand. "I suppose Potter is the reason you're here?"
"Not really," Ron said nervously. "I came to London looking for my brothers. Neville found me in the street."
"Which brothers?" Snape asked impatiently.
"Bill and Fred and George," said Ron. "They've got flats here, or they used to, at least."
Snape and Neville looked at each other. Ron did not like the glance that passed between them as it was obviously full of meaning. "Very well," said Snape. "We will take you to see Potter. But know this: if you are an imposter, you and your master will both be very sorry. You will not leave this place alive and I will personally see to it that he does not long survive, either."
Ron swallowed hard and nodded.
"Lead on, Longbottom," said Snape. Neville took one last glance at Ron and started off down the hall. Ron felt a sharp prod in the back from Snape's wand and he followed.
It only took Ron a few moments to realize that the house had been magically expanded. The hall went on and on with other corridors branching off. Now and then they would pass another room. There were people inside some of those rooms, some of whom were dressed like Neville in brown and gray and wearing belts hung with knives. Others wore simple wizards' robes. One and all they watched curiously as Neville, Ron and Snape walked by. Some of them pointed at Ron and whispered to each other.
Occasionally Ron saw rooms that didn't contain conferring witches and wizards. One in particular caught Ron's eye as it seemed to be full of refugees. People in torn, dirty clothing sat listlessly together. Some of the women held children in their arms. They stared straight ahead at nothing with sad, defeated expressions while two people, clearly a witch and wizard, moved among them. The wizard, a black man with a friendly face, was distributing cups of water. The witch was slender and breathtakingly pretty; she had brown skin and darker eyes, and her long, black hair was plaited down her back.
The witch and wizard looked up as Ron and his guard passed by. Both their faces instantly froze in masks of utter amazement. Now that he had seen Neville, Ron understood what it meant when people looked familiar to him. They were his friends, now grown up.
"Ron?" the witch whispered, seeming to have forgotten the child she was bandaging.
"It can't be," said the wizard.
Snape had moved Ron past the room so that he had to look back over his shoulder at them. "Parvati?" he said, sounding just as stunned as they looked. "Dean?"
"Ron!" Dean shouted, starting to follow.
"Keep your distance!" Snape snarled, turning to face Dean and Parvati. "He could be an impostor."
Parvati had pressed both hands to her mouth. Her eyes were brimming with tears. "No," she said, her voice muffled behind her hands. "It is him –"
"Stop," Snape commanded, and Ron obeyed, turning to watch him. "You may both wish to throw caution to the winds, just like Longbottom," said Snape in his most dangerous tone, "but I will not believe that this is Weasley on sight alone! If you wish to come with us then you will do so silently. Is that clear?"
Dean and Parvati merely looked at Snape, not bothering to answer.
"Good," Snape said dryly, taking their silence for acquiescence. "Continue, Longbottom." They started forward again and Dean and Parvati followed but not before Parvati had quickly found someone to watch over her charges.
In no time at all Ron had generated quite a following of people in the hallway. More and more people seemed to recognize him as he went on; he heard whispers as he passed open doorways and crisscrossing corridors. His name was repeated over and over, spreading like wildfire until it seemed that the people in front of them knew he was coming. Other witches and wizards fell in behind Dean and Parvati, a few of whom Ron thought he recognized. That woman with the long braids looked like Angelina. The two men that looked like short, blonde twins might be the Creevey brothers. Another redheaded woman off to the side looked like Susan Bones of Hufflepuff. And was that Cho Chang back in the rear with the long, shining black hair that rippled like water in the lamplight?
When they finally stopped at a heavy, oaken door, the murmurs and whispers behind Snape had grown to a loud buzz of anticipation. Snape rounded on them all and snapped at them to be silent before directing Neville to open the door.
Ron's heart fluttered wildly in his chest and his breath seemed to be coming short. Neville pushed the door and it swung open with a loud creak.
"Inside," Snape said curtly.
Ron stepped into the room. It was brightly lit by pinpoints of light that hovered near the ceiling, so small and bright that they looked almost like tiny stars come down to earth. The people inside were standing around a long table, pointing at a huge map that lay stretched upon its length. They were speaking animatedly as Neville walked through the door but upon seeing who he brought with them their chatter was cut off as if by a knife. They stared at Ron while his entourage, now numbering in the dozens, poured through the door behind him, crowding in as closely as they could.
Some of the people around the table Ron knew. Tiny Professor Flitwick stood upon a chair, now looking even more white-haired than ever. Remus Lupin's hair was now completely gray; his arms looked more muscular than Ron remembered. Professor Sprout, short and squat, goggled at Ron from one side. Nymphadora Tonks stood out with her petite frame and bright pink locks. And there in the back stood three people with red hair exactly the same shade as Ron's.
Bill looked almost the same as Ron remembered – tall and handsome with a long ponytail and a dragon fang earring in one ear. The only difference was the appearance of tiny lines around his eyes. Ginny was lovely, a woman in full bloom, and Ron knew her face well though the rest of her had changed from the fifteen-year-old girl he had last seen. Mr. Weasley's head was now mostly gray. The lines around his eyes and mouth were pronounced, but he looked to be just as much in shape as Bill.
The three Weasleys looked at their lost brother and son with white faces and fearful eyes. The room was absolutely still; one could have heard a pin drop as everyone stood frozen in shock. Suddenly Ginny made an odd gasping noise and crumpled to the floor, knocking over a glass pitcher as she fell. It shattered on the wooden floor and the spell was broken. Everyone at the table snapped out of their reveries and hurried to help Ginny. Everyone, that was, save one person.
The adult Harry Potter remained standing where he was while his fellows bent down toward the floor. Time had washed away the last vestige of childish looks and left a rather handsome man behind though his hair was as black and untidy as always. The lightning bolt scar had not faded with the last decade. Green eyes bored into Ron's own with an unnerving intensity. Ron knew that Harry must be surprised to see him – everyone else was – but there was a definite lack of emotion on Harry's face as he stared. Ron sensed that same aura of toughness that he had felt around Snape, but it was stronger here. Harry seemed as hard as stone.
"Is Ginny all right?" Harry suddenly asked, never taking his eyes off Ron.
"She's coming around," said Bill, who was fanning his sister with a bit of paper.
Ginny groaned a bit and her eyes fluttered open. Bill and Mr. Weasley carefully helped her to sit up while Tonks proffered a glass of water. Ginny, however, had caught sight of Ron again and burst into passionate tears. She clutched at her father while he smoothed her hair and whispered in her ear, trying to soothe her.
"How has this happened?" Harry said quietly.
"I found him on Warwick," said Neville. "He was watching a group of Legion soldiers pass by. He looked as if he had never seen their like before."
"And you knew him?" asked Harry.
"No," said Neville. "I threatened his life until he claimed to be Ron; after that he had to convince me that he was no fake."
"I take it that he did," said Harry, and Neville nodded.
"I am not so easily convinced," said Snape in his sneering voice.
"We'll get to that," said Harry, and to Ron's amazement, Snape closed his mouth.
Harry crossed his arms. "You disappeared from your house almost ten years ago," he said to Ron. "Can you tell us what has happened to you since then?"
Ron swallowed before answering. His mouth felt very dry. "I ran into the Death Eater," he said. "I felt some stuff hit my face. We fell but I didn't hit the ground right away. Everything got blurry and there was a wind. The Death Eater vanished and a few seconds later it was over. I… I was lying next to a house that had burned down. I didn't know it was my house until I found the clock inside." Ginny gave another audible sob.
"What clock?" said Harry.
"Th-the one that has all our names on it and shows where we are," Ron said haltingly, wondering how he was doing. "It had stopped."
Harry nodded. "Then what did you do?"
"I figured I'd come to London," said Ron. "Some of my brothers… lived here."
"How did you get here?" said Harry with a frown.
"I flew," said Ron, and the low buzz of voices filled the room.
"On a broomstick?" said Harry.
"Yes," said Ron, looking around nervously. "On mine. It was in the cellar with the other ones." The buzz grew louder. The people behind Ron were definitely excited by this news.
"The cellar wasn't destroyed with the rest of the house?" said Harry.
"It's not attached to the house," Bill volunteered. "The door is hidden and you need a password."
"Have you got his broom, Neville?" asked Harry.
"Right here," said Neville, thrusting it forward.
"Excellent," said Harry. "We'll need to send someone to retrieve the others." He nodded to Ron. "Please continue."
"Well, there's nothing much after that," said Ron. "I got here and saw that everything was ruined. I didn't know what I was going to do next. That's when I saw the three wizards and some people all chained together, and after they were gone Neville grabbed me from behind."
There was a pause. Harry seemed to be thinking. "Do you know how you got here?" he finally asked.
"Well, I didn't really understand until Neville told me that ten years had passed and I was supposed to be dead," said Ron. "When I realized I'd come forward in time I figured that the thing the Death Eater was wearing was a time-turner. Everything got screwed up when it broke."
"This is all public knowledge," Snape said coldly. "Everyone knows how Weasley was lost; the Tyrant could easily have fed him this information."
Harry glanced from Ron to Snape and back again. "The Death Eater was Darius Montague, apparently on a mission to prove himself to Voldemort by killing me." Ron shivered as Harry said the name, and most of the others in the room did the same. "He was indeed wearing a time-turner. He flickered in and out of sight as you fell. We seized Montague and pulled him out of the time warp but you had disappeared permanently. Why he had the time-turner in the first place we never learned; he died shortly after, apparently of the shock of whatever he experienced." Harry paused for a moment while he looked Ron up and down. "You certainly look like Ron," he said. "You sound like him and your story makes sense. But Severus is right; we must be certain that it is indeed you. The Legions have gotten very clever in the past few months."
"Ask me anything," Ron said thickly, feeling shocked anew by Harry's use of Snape's first name. "Whoever these Legions and Tyrants are, they couldn't possibly stuff an imposter's head with everything I know."
Harry smiled a ghost of a smile. "Severus?"
"What mark did I give you on your first attempt at the Essence of Courage during your O.W.L. year?" Snape said shortly.
Ron felt his face flush bright red. Trust Snape to come up with a question that had an embarrassing answer. "Dreadful," said Ron, and a few people behind him laughed softly. "You said it would take a miracle for me to scrape even an Acceptable if I continued to throw any old thing into my cauldron without regard for the instructions."
A few more people laughed and Snape's eyes narrowed. "True," he said.
"What did your mother and I give you for your eleventh birthday?" Mr. Weasley said quietly.
Ron turned hopeful eyes upon his father. "You took me to a Chudley Cannons match." Mr. Weasley smiled joyfully.
"What did you say to me after my name came out of the Goblet of Fire?" Harry said suddenly.
The room grew quiet. Ron thought he understood why Harry had asked this question; the bitter confrontation between them had been very personal and Ron had only ever discussed his feelings with Hermione. Where was she, anyway?
"I accused you of being a glory hog," said Ron, feeling ashamed as he recalled the nasty things he'd said to Harry. "I thought you had figured out a way to get your name in and you hadn't shared it with me because you didn't want any competition. I barely spoke to you until after the first task. After I saw the dragons I figured that someone really was trying to do you in."
There was a long pause while Harry stared at Ron. Everyone in the room seemed to be holding their breath. Clearly they were all waiting for Harry to pass judgment.
Harry's face finally broke into a real smile. "We've missed you, Ron," he said, and everyone suddenly began cheering. Bill strode away from the table and enveloped Ron in a crushing hug. Mr. Weasley and a wobbly Ginny followed suit, all of them trying to hold onto Ron at the same time. All three of them trembled violently; Ron could feel Bill's shoulders shaking as he sobbed into Ron's hair.
Ron's family did not seem to want to let go of him, and Ron was only too happy to let them remain as they were. With them here he felt as if he had gained an anchor in an uncertain world. They were different people now, but they were still his brother, sister and father. No amount of time could alter those bonds. All Ron wanted now to make his happiness complete was to know where his mother, the rest of his siblings and Hermione were.
When Bill, Ginny and Mr. Weasley finally let go of Ron, the room had emptied of everyone else but Harry who was sitting quietly in a nearby chair. Mr. Weasley turned to Harry with a smile and beckoned him over. Harry wrapped Ron up in another bone-crushing hug, holding on for several seconds before letting go. "It's good to see you again," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You don't know just how good."
"I don't know about that," said Ron with a shaky laugh. "I think maybe I do. After the Burrow and London…"
"That must have been awful for you," Ginny said softly.
Ron nodded. "I was so afraid," he admitted. "I didn't know what was going on. I fell asleep on top of one of Fred's old sweaters."
"We haven't been back there since the attack," said Bill, wiping his eyes. "We just couldn't bring ourselves to it. If anything survived, we left it."
Ron suddenly remembered the items in his pocket. "I found something besides the cellar," he said brightly, feeling around for his mother's jewelry. "I was looking for some Floo powder – the fireplace was still standing, you know – and I dug these up." He pulled his hand from his pocket and opened it, revealing the brooch, earrings and broken strand of pearls. "I expect Mum will be happy to see these."
"Grandma's pin," Ginny said softly.
Mr. Weasley reached out and took the brooch almost reverently. "I never thought I'd see this again," he said softly. "It was so precious to Molly."
Something in his father's voice sent a spike of anxiety into Ron's stomach. "Where is Mum?" he said. "And Fred and George and Charlie and Percy?"
"Fred is out on patrol just now," Harry said quietly, "and Percy… is still around." Ron noticed that Harry's face darkened as he spoke of Percy.
There was a pause. Ron looked between his family and Harry, waiting for the whereabouts of the others. "And?" he prompted.
The Weasleys were staring at the floor. Cold fear flooded through Ron. "Where are they?" he asked again, although deep down he already knew the answer. It was written in his family's faces.
"Your mother," said Harry, his voice strained, "and Charlie and George are gone, Ron."
Gone. Dead. Ron felt instantly numb. His heart seemed to have stopped beating; his lungs took in no air. "No," he said stubbornly.
"I'm so sorry, Ron," Harry said, and he truly sounded it.
"No," Ron repeated.
"It's true, son," said Mr. Weasley softly.
"No!" Ron shouted, his voice breaking. "It's not right! It's not right!" He felt his father's arms enfold him. Somewhere to his right he could hear Ginny crying again. Ron pounded his fist against his father's chest, which was much firmer than he remembered. "It's not right!" he shouted over and over until sobs finally overtook him.
Ron cried and cried while his father murmured into his ear, carefully rocking him as if he were a very small child. Ron felt no shame at this. He felt nothing but sorrow beyond knowing and the wrongness of the situation. This world he was in shouldn't be; he wanted to go home. He wanted to go back.
Ron did not notice when Harry got up and left, leaving the family alone with their grief.