Happy Fourth of July, everyone! At least those of you who celebrate it. And if you're not in the U.S., heck, I hope it's a good day anyway. In celebration, I'll put shout outs first!
Amelia Glitter: I hope to make the spirit world intriguing.
cry missing: Yes, giggly teenage ghosts can do damage. And yes, Percy does have other things against Harry. Which shall be revealed in time.
Crystal Lightning: You're right about one thing, dearie, and partially right on the other.
Hi I'm Crazy: Glad you like the idea!
Hydrangea777: Glad to make you girls laugh. I'm so sad you ended your story, though!
Icy Dragon Claws: You're counting? Ee!
Just Curious: Don't worry, I live for happy endings. This will have one. Hopefully I'll get rid of the underlying tears by the end. Though it will always be sad that Ron is dead.
krenya-alenak: Thanks for reading this! No, Ron isn't the brightest crayon in the box. Poor boy is stressed. But he will appear to Hermione. Can't keep those two separate.
Lady Meriadoc: You know... you may have just inspired me! Thank-you!
Lady Peregrine: Yup, they set up Lily and James.
LJ Fan: I actually felt dirty writing that bit of H/Hr. Sorry again!
loonygrl90: No! They can't enjoy it! They can't!
meenyrocks: Yup. That was Lily and James.
Midnight Dove: Gasp! Puppy eyes! That just might make me give in soon!
pIPPENpIRATE: Gasp! Does he?!
Pline: I actually think Percy's making more of an attempt at being peaceful than Ron is.
Reeter Skeeter: Ron will appear to Hermione again, don't worry! As for that ship...=)
severus's bane: I'm glad you like Percy... he's kind of hard to do! He as a lot of issues, so... And it is partially his fault his family doesn't know he's dead. And he does know how to go visible, but really doesn't dare do it in Hogwarts.
Siriusly Disturbed: Dude! I would like to be a ghost! Well.. not any time soon... but... Anywho, thanks for your comments, and I'm really enjoying your fic!
Tru Lys: You know... that'd be convenient. But would Peeves really stoop to murder? I know Ron would but....
V-babe24: Haha! Oh, and sorry this is a day later than I told you!
Written in Stars; Thankyee!
On with the story! Also... I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, so please be honest and give advice if you can.
The more Ron thought about it, the more pathetically obvious Cornelia's suggestion about the spirit world became. Of course, he had considered it before, vaguely; it had been some point of conversation. But with the hypothetical council representative in this world and Percy flipping through book after book in an attempt to find council specifics, Ron had never really felt a need to seriously consider the spirit world. But now, now that it mattered, no one seemed to know a thing about it.
"I told you," Nearly Headless Nick repeated. "Most ghosts, most of them around Hogwarts, anyway, have never been to the spirit world. It just so happens to be a rare thing."
"But you're a House Ghost," Percy insisted. "I thought that might give you some knowledge. And you're the one who mentioned the council to us."
Nick gave a dramatic shrug, one that would have sent his head sprawling into the tables of the presently empty Great Hall where he drifted along with Ron and Percy, had it been properly detached. "My role pertains simply to ghosts of Gryffindor, and unless there's trouble going on I'm hardly more than a mascot there. As for the council. . . " He forced a cough, a strange sound coming from a ghost.
"Oh, no," Ron muttered.
Percy nearly collided with Peeves, who was rushing around the room taping toilet paper to the walls. "This council is more than just heresay, isn't it?" He was nearly pleading.
Nick blinked, taken back. "Of course it's real! At least, as far as I know, from what I've been told."
"What?"
"Haven't you even listened to anything I've said, Percy? I've never been to the spirit world. When one becomes a ghost. . . the spirit world just isn't much of an option. I'm not saying you can't go, but. . ."
Ron gazed lazily at the rather-decorative toilet paper streamer arrangement that was practically flying from Peeves' hands. Almost like that bloody rope around his wrist. If there was no way to get to the spirit world and end this. . . "I don't like the sound of that but, Nick."
"I'm just saying that very few ghosts ever bother to travel back and forth."
"Sounds like an excuse to me."
Percy sent Ron a withering look, than turned back to Nick. "So you've no idea how to ge there?"
"The curtain," Ron said without thinking.
The others turned to him, surprised.
"The curtain?" Percy echoed.
"In the Department of Mysteries." It had been two years ago and was rather hard to remember. But he could still see it in his mind. The room, the veil set on the platform in the middle. According to everyone, Sirius Black had fallen through it. And now he was considered dead. The idea had struck him several days earlier, when Cornelia had originally mentioned the spirit world, but as usual he paid no attention. "I think it's a gateway to the spirit world. Or something." He explained about Sirius.
"A veil that kills people?" Percy asked dubiously. "Ron, I don't know where you get that idea."
Nick actually dared laugh. "I believe I've already spoken to Harry Potter about this. I'm sorry, but while certain wizards in that department are rumored to study death, I highly doubt they've created a gateway."
"And what makes you so certain?"
The Grey Lady, long dress trailing wispily behind her, floated through the wall. She smiled, a look of kindness somehow startling, and nodded at Nick. "From what I know of you, Sir Nicolas, you've avoided this sort of discussion for centuries."
The laughter died from him as he fingered his severed neck. "Well, excuse me for being a bit sensitive about death, Rebeccah."
"I excuse you, but that doesn't give you the right to flat out lie to these young men."
Nick's mouth fell open. "I. . . Rebeccah, you're not actually saying. . . Some curtain. . ."
She waved a gloved hand, motioning him to silence. "I'm not saying anything; I doubt I know much more than you. But I do understand that Professor Binns---one of the more recently dead among us--has actually spoken on the matter. And probably visited the Ministry during his life. Still. . . if living wizards are studying such a phenomenon... "
"We can go through it?" Ron asked.
She smiled sadly at him and shook her head. "I wouldn't recommend it."
"But you just mentioned it," Percy said, floating closer to her. "You just gave us more help than Nick did, and surely the Ministry is capable of experimenting with such things."
"Oh, yes, the all-powerful Ministry," Ron muttered.
Peeves raced past, toilet paper still rolling endlessly and dropping right through Ron and Percy. "Icksy Minstry, icksy Minstry," he sang off-key. "Icksy Minstry and its Curtain o' Death! Sigh. And it would be so easy for a wee ghostie to go to that particular room. . . "
"Don't encourage them, Peeves!" the Grey Lady scolded.
All she received was a raspberry and an entire roll of toilet paper dropped through her.
She swore and glared at the poltergeist, her eyes going suddenly dark. "Just for that, I'm going to insist these young men go to the Ministry and see just how icky it is, Peeves!"
A choppy laugh had sprang from Ron's mouth before he caught himself. Seeing the illustrious Grey Lady of Ravenclaw acting so... childish. The dark glare immediately went to him, and he shut up.
"Er, Ma'am," Percy began nervously. "Are you really suggesting we go?"
"I. . ." With a silvery blush she forced her face back into utter calm. "I'm just. . ."
"Saying that they'll go!" Peeves scooped up the fallen paper and quickly created a web in a corner.
"They'll do no such thing!" Nick exclaimed. "They're in my house, and even if there is this veil. . . it might be dangerous."
"And what will it do?" Ron asked.
"You really don't want to be an experiment?"
"Percy could be an experiment."
The Grey Lady gave an amused laugh. "Fine. I meant no offense, Sir Nicholas. They are in your house, and you should have that authority over them. I'll give them no help. In fact, I suggest they not go."
A quick glance spoken plainly that Nick was getting flustered. "You just said you'd give no help."
"I'm just saying. . ."
"And I'm saying they should go!" The words were out before he realized what he had said. "I mean."
The Grey Lady shook her head, frowning. "I can't believe this. Such irresponsibility. Well, Nicholas, if you think they should go, they are in your house."
"I think we should," Ron said, glancing down at the rope around his wrist. One trip to the spirit world and it would be off. "Thanks, Nick!"
"You are sure, Sir Nick?" Percy asked. "Ron, I think he's confused."
But at that time the Grey Lady was scolding an extremely flustered Nearly Headless Nick, who kept glancing back at Ron and Percy, panic and a silent command to stay written clearly on his face.
It wasn't enough for Ron. Knowing Nick, he would definitely delay them, especially if he displayed his recent temper. "Let's just go," he urged. "It won't matter."
"To the Ministry?" Percy's eyes widened in. . . something. Fear?
"Yes, to the Ministry. That's where the Veil is."
"I'm not sure I believe you on this."
"And I thought you believed you knew everything about the Ministry." Much of the night was still so blurry, but he could still at least remember the halls of the Ministry; how many times had he visited his dad there? Hopefully the memory was clear enough to Vaporate.
It was. Slowly the Great Hall faded from sight, along with the still-arguing Percy who would probably be dragged along soon enough and something he couldn't be sure of. . . the Grey Lady smiling at him knowingly while Peeves flew around singing a rude song at the top of his lungs.
The Ministry was almost empty when Ron and Percy arrived, only a few wizards and witches strolling around with wands and stacks of parchment. Percy was still doubtful of what they were going to do.
"Nick's right, Ron," he kept saying. "You don't know anything about this curtain of yours. I've never even heard of it."
"Well. . . someone supposedly fell through it, and was considered dead." It didn't seem right to bring up Sirius Black to Percy.
"So? It's probably one of those silly rumors you like so much." Percy swore under his breath and stared dismally down from the corner where they waited at the passing workers. "Why am I trusting you on this?"
Ron followed his gaze down to where a witch at a desk was picking her nose. "You don't seem to be trusting me. And you were the one mad because I wouldn't search through your stupid books with you."
"One of those books might have actually said something about this council!"
"That's not what you said earlier."
"I. . ." A small, sheepish grin slid onto his face. "It was worth a shot."
"Not really."
The grin vanished. "So what if there is no veil?"
A tiny spark lit off inside of Ron. "You were practically begging me to help you!"
"Yes, but when you finally come up with something, it's has to be some supposed Ministry conspiracy."
"You're just jealous because they never told you about it." It had been so long since he had really taunted Percy-almost four days since --and it felt good. "And you were so up there in the Minstry or whatever."
He sniffed. "I'd prefer not to discuss that."
"Why not? You were always so eager to before. That is, before you died and sadly they wouldn't employ a ghost."
"The Ministry had a handle on things."
"On what?" The spark grew hotter. "Are you saying that they were controlling things so well that they were suddenly more important than everyone else and could suddenly control the entire wizarding world?"
Percy's eyes flashed. "You're not trying to bring up what I did to Mum and Dad again, are you?"
Ron stared back at him. The desire to taunt was gone. But. . . no, it was pointless. "You just brought it up," he said, forcing his voice not to rise. "But you said you'd prefer not to discuss it." Against his conscious will the taunting returned.
Percy shook his head, face like stone, and turned to watch the workers, who were slowly beginning to leave. "That's right, I'd prefer not to discuss it. And I also think we should just leave."
"Why? Don't you like the Ministry? I thought you missed it?"
"I also prefer not to discuss that."
Yes, the taunting desire was back. "I thought you wanted to be with your precious Fudge."
"Ron, shut up."
"I bet you were haunting the Ministry before you were forced back to Hogwarts. I bet that's why you appeared to Fudge. Because you missed him so much. And wanted to work for him."
"I'm serious, just shut up."
He laughed and shook his head. "Oh, Mr. Cornelius," he sang. "I want to be your devoted slave for eternity. . ."
With a single quick motion Percy shoved him into and through a wall.
"What was that for?!" Ron shouted, springing back out.
"I prefer not to discuss Fudge, either."
"That's amazing." Yes, it really was amazing. Now that Ron thought about it, Percy had been eerily silent about Fudge and the Ministry. He wasn't quite sure what that meant, but. . . "You prefer not to discuss many things, don't you?"
Percy nodded, not meeting Ron's gaze. "That's right. You're getting smarter."
"Like your death?"
"Exactly."
Percy's mysterious death. . . he hadn't seriously meant to bring it up, but. . . "So how did you die?"
He was met by a questioning stare. "I just said. . ."
"Well, I think you should discuss it. Even if just to him." Ron pointed at a random wizard yawning as he tried to lock up a door.
"I'm not telling some stranger how I died!"
"I'm your brother." Though it hardly felt that way. "You could tell me, then."
"No!" Percy bit his lip and drifted down a ways.
Ron inched along. "Tell me."
"No!"
"You know you want to."
"It's none of your business!" More a snarl than anything else.
The ferocity was sudden, and Ron drew back. "Huh? How is it not my business?" Another stupid question. "How come Mum and Dad don't know?"
"Because it's not their business, either." His voice refused to soften.
"So just because you won't speak to them means. . ."
"Exactly."
Ron stared at Percy, a silver huddle in his cloak against the dimming Ministry hall. Percy was serious about not discussing this, and Ron had clearly touched on something. And yet. . . it made him all the more curious. Well, it could wait, perhaps. He waited, wondering how to bring the topic up. But nothing that wouldn't send Percy into another tantrum came to mind. "I can't believe we're just sitting here," he finally said. "We're ghosts, we can head in there any time we want."
Percy didn't look at him. " And that's assuming that there is such a room."
"Of course there is."
He almost seemed ready to argue, but instead shook his head and continued staring down into the hall.
Ron held up his right hand. Perhaps it was his imagination, but the rope glowed almost more brightly. "Let's go find it." It would be a search; that night had been such a haze that he really didn't remember anything. So he decided to just aim through random floors and walls and hope for the best. He awaited the resisting tug from Percy, but nothing came.
It felt rather good, he decided. Himself leading the way, Percy following along-bitterly, but still following along. But as they passed rooms and corridors with no sign of the circle of doors that was one of the few things he could distinctly remember, the situation became awkward.
Finally, Percy spoke.
To complain, Ron thought, grimacing.
"It was a few months after the Ministry announced You-Know-Who was back," Percy said softly, almost weakly. "At first, Fudge was trying to work with Dumbledore, but. . . I guess he was still afraid that he'd lose control. He was afraid of even the possibility of a civil war, I don't know. But after awhile. . . well, I suppose you know how corrupted the Ministry became."
Percy admitting the Ministry of Magic was corrupted?
"Fudge kept us all close, using us in the upper offices of the Ministry to work against You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters. And he became a bit fanatical about it. I. . ." Percy stopped, and Ron felt a slight tug at his rest for a moment before Percy continued forward. "Well, first Fudge stopped working with Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix. I don't know if you can believe this, but it was actually getting scary in the Ministry. So I. . . I sent some things to the Order."
This time Ron stopped, and whirled around to stare at his brother. Not Percy. . . "What are you saying?"
His question was ignored, and Percy kept talking. "It was anonymous, of course. Well. . . Fudge found out. And I wasn't the only one. Other people were doing things like that. Fudge considered it betrayal, considered us traitors. So. . . one night he invited me to dinner with some other officials. I was already suspicious. And apparently he's not that good at poisons, because it was pretty obvious in taste. Especially on the steamed broccoli. I put it in my mouth, and I could really taste the poison, but. . . I guess I panicked. . ." He sighed, and met Ron's eyes.
Ron's mind spun. It couldn't be. "You choked to death?"
Percy frowned, blushing silver. "Well. . . ."
"You choked on a piece of broccoli?"
"I'm sure the poison might have done something," he said defensively.
Ron couldn't keep back his laughter. "But you said you panicked, which suggests that you choked. . ." It was too much. "So that's how you died?"
"See why I preferred not to discuss it?" Percy's expression was almost hurt.
"I can see why." It was perhaps the most wonderful thing Ron had heard that day. "So Fudge murdered you. No, he didn't. He tried to poison you, but apparently that didn't do it, so. . . Wow, my death was so much better than yours."
"So now we're comparing deaths?"
"Well, not that I know yours. . . " Still laughing, he slipped through a wall, Percy grumbling behind him. "Wait."
The wall exited into a large room, circular and lined with doors.
Percy appeared behind Ron and gasped. "I've never been down here. . .the Department of Ministries." He was suddenly reverent, for someone who had choked on broccoli."
"Now do you believe me?"
The reverence turned into a scowl. "I still see no room with a veil."
Which door had it been? Ron thought hard, then popped through one. No such luck. It was actually a closet. The next room was no help, either. At least the uselessness of doors sped things up.
"I'm not impressed," Percy said dryly, waiting patiently in the circle's center in a pointed attempt at not helping.
"Oh, go choke on broccoli," Ron shot back, entering the next room. "Unless, of course. . ." His voice trailed off.
The deep pit, circled with seats. The raised platform in the room's center. And on it. . . the Veil, black material waving gently in the still air.
"Ron, if you say one more word-" Percy's threat was never made. He appeared in the room, and his eyes fell immediately on the Veil. "Oh."
"That's it? That's all you can say?"
"What do you want me to say?"
Ron glanced back at the Veil, then at Percy. Such satisfaction. If only he could be allowed to roll in it. "I don't know. How about 'Oh, Ron, I'm so sorry I didn't believe you'. That'd be great."
Ignoring him, Percy soared down to the platform. "This has been here? How long?"
As if Ron would know. He joined Percy at the platform.
"And it leads to the spirit world? Are you sure?"
Harry had explained it to Ron. Once. But from all he had heard. . . no matter what, he didn't want to fail in front of Percy. "Yes."
Percy held a hand tentatively toward the material, though not actually touching it. "Why does it move?"
"That's the Ghost Fairy flapping her wings, Percy."
"Very funny. So. . . we just go through it?" Frowning, he circled the Veil. "This can't be safe."
Safe? Ron laughed again. "What's it going to do to us?"
Percy shot another you're-an-idiot look. "Ron, this is death we're discussing. If wizards are actually studying it, then it's in research mode, and it can't be safe."
"But. . . you're dead! You already suffered through vegetables. What will a curtain do?"
"You just can't. . ."
But his own words had just hit him. He was a ghost. He was dead, and nothing else could be able to kill him. And the same went for Percy. The Veil. . .that had only been fatal to the living Sirius Black. But now, it really was just a curtain that couldn't hurt either of them. He hoped. Smirking, he shoved Percy into it.