This chapter is dedicated to rosepetal13. Because she said so. And she makes good cookies.

Oh, warning so you won't be confused: I'm going to add a new perspective in this chapter. It will be separated, of course, but it's a new one.

Also, I just got my wisdom teeth pulled today! So hopefully I wasn't too terribly drugged when writing this.

The week sped by, much to Ron's utter confusion. Time usually didn't work that way, not with something like avenging the Bloody Baron with no evidence whatsoever on his mind. With that, the days should have dragged by as he waited for Percy to come up with some idea of what to do. Percy had always been the good student; if anyone would know where to look, it would be him. Perhaps it was that panic inherent in the mission. Perhaps it was the fact that they had been invited to Cornelia's death day party. And they were expected to go to Ginny. Every time something bad was coming up, it came quickly.

Whatever Percy had been in the middle of saying that night, he never continued it. Ron considered asking about it once or twice, but an appropriate opportunity never arose. Though, once he thought about it, when did he ever need an appropriate opportunity to do anything? But it wasn't as if either of them had to bring it up. So Percy had watched him die. So what? Maybe that Jamie McFly girl had, as well.

Harry, fortunately, had no visible issues from having everyone in his bedroom. He went through school, talking to Hermione or Neville or Dean or whomever, homework, and Quidditch. Percy never wanted to watch the practices, especially with the current state of the team. No one seemed to have much spirit left when it came to playing, so the one section of Harry's schedule that could have been remotely interesting was also ruined. Ron had never realized how boring life had been.

Harry didn't go on any dates that week, though he and Charity did have an awkward apology in the halls that was interrupted by Peeves dropping water balloons. Thank goodness it wasn't bugs.

"It would be scary," Percy had said then, "If Ginny and Peeves ever joined forces."

Ron had to agree. If Ginny ever had to sabotage another date.

If she would ever at least glance at Harry.

Ron was still very confused about the whole thing. It just might be easier to avenge a 700-year old death than work with a stubborn Ginny Weasley.

Then it was there, a windy Friday night and a thrown-together Deathday Party in one of the dungeons. Ron couldn't help but be grateful that Cornelia hadn't gone to the extravagance of Nearly-Headless Nick. There was only about a dozen guests, counting the girls, and some rusty chains strung over the ceiling like streamers. And, to Ron's impression, skull-shaped balloons. A radio had been tuned to old 40's songs, and Percy and Ron were sadly cornered in front of it.

"We didn't bother to bake a cake," Jillie said. "Or make the house-elves put one together for us. We can't exactly eat it, anyway."

"I hope you don't mind," Cornelia said. She looked exceptionally ashy that night. Ron almost felt inspired to give her a compliment.

Percy stared around the room, clearly not wanting to be there and somehow managing to speak without actually looking at Cornelia.

"Did you bring her a present?" Jillie giggled. She swooped behind Percy, poking at his robes.

He jerked away. "Quit it."

"Ah, Cornelia, I think he wants to give you a gift in secret. Isn't that what you want?"

Cornelia blushed and smacked at Jillie with her bag.

A deathday gift? Ron rolled his eyes. The sad thing was that Percy indeed had managed to bring her a gift. One that Ron himself had suggested.

Percy cleared his throat and threw a glance at Ron. Begging. Good. Ron smiled. All Percy had to do was keep a straight face and not back out of this. After all, he had been laughing just as much at the idea.

"I can do it here," he said, reaching into his pocket with his sleeve wrapped around his hand. "It's nothing much, but I thought it was kind of interesting. . ."

The phantom version of a Snitch jilted into the air.

It had not survived being swallowed by a thestral. But Cornelia or anyone didn't need to know that.

"A Snitch?" Cornelia's puzzlement was mixed with some delight. "These things take a while to get pounded into nothing!"

"You should have seen the real Snidgets," Jillie said. "Now those were fun to see die."

"You are so morbid." She jumped at the snitch just as her arm erupted into flame.

Percy coughed, an obvious disguise for a laugh. "Glad you like it!"

"I love it!" She threw her arms around Percy. Unfortunately, she was still on fire.

"Oh?" came a familiar voice. "So she gets a gift? No one ever celebrates my deathday. They try to make it all right by inviting me. But that's because they all feel sorry for me."

A chubby girl descended through the ceiling, glasses askew and tear-stained.

Ron groaned. Moaning Myrtle.

Jillie shrugged apologetically. "It was Dream's idea," she mouthed.

Dream had been at the other side of the room, socializing with a Hufflepuff phantom with a quill stuck in her eye, but jumped over immediately.

Ron blinked. Girls could hear everything.

Moaning Myrtle sniffed and saved morosely at Dream. "She's nice. She bothered to invite me. Something the deathday girl wouldn't even do!"

It was Dream's turn to shrug apologetically.

"Myrtle, you're always invited, you know that," Cornelia said softly, turning away from an ash-covered and panicked Percy. "We even have boys this time?"

"Boys?" Some of the depression faded from Myrtle's voice. Her eyes skipped over the room.

Ron tried to shrink away. Myrtle had always ignored him somewhat in the face of Harry. . .

"Percy," she spat. "He doesn't count as a boy."

"Now that's why I invited her!" Dream exclaimed, high-fiving a rather surprise Myrtle.

"But Ron." Myrtle frowned. "Ronald Weasley. The mean one! You and that Hermione girl! Wow. I didn't even realize you were dead. But I'm sure you now know how it all feels!"

"I'm actually thinking of stealing your stall," he replied. Maybe that would make her go away. Or provoke her.

To his horror, she smiled. "Oh? You want my stall? You don't have to steal it. Not when we can share it."

Percy gave another coughing laugh. "Myrtle, that would be hardly appropriate."

Myrtle glared at him. "Oh? Prefects ruin everything."

"You do realize that Percy would have to join us?" Ron said.

Jillie doubled over with laughter.

Ron recognized this. He had just accidently thrown himself into friendly female banter. They were joking around him. Or something. Maybe they'd start fighting. It was so hard to tell.

"The problem, Myrtle," Dream said. "Is that Ron is to be coming with me. And I can put up with the Percy problem. Unless you'd like him."

The Snitch should have gone to Dream.

"You want Ron?" The morose depression returned. "How come you get everything? First off, the one that I like fails to die, and now when his best friend is available. . . "

"I'm sorry to say that I had first dibs on him." Dream's eyes were narrow slits.

"Oh, no," Percy muttered.

Ron slugged him. "You were the prefect and headboy. Do something!"

"You were also prefect!"

But it had always been the girl prefects who had stopped such fights.

"There are so few dead teenage boys at the school," Dream continued. "That I think I should have a fair pick."

Cornelia and Jillie picked chains to hover over, chair style. They were ready to view a fight.

Myrtle's lip quivered, and she carefully took off her glasses, folded them, and put them away.

"Afraid I'll break them?" Dream taunted. "I did not invite you to this party because I wanted you to steal the boy I love!"

"But I love him!"

Love? Love was too strong a word. And Dream and Myrtle were obviously nutters.

"Wow, Ron," Percy said, joining Cornelia and Jillie at the chains. "You're being fought over."

Immediately Ron's mood improved. Girls never had exactly chased after him. Who cared if this selection was less than desirous?

It was just best to stay at a safe distance from the fight, which soon had the attention of everyone in the room.

As it turned out, Myrtle was surprisingly better at fighting than Dream. It had to be the years of torture and taunting. It wasn't long before she had her hands knotting Dream's long hair and shoving her in and out of the stone wall while everyone cheered and booed around them.

"Stop, stop," Jillie finally said, throwing herself between the girls. "I think that's enough."

"It's not it would kill them," someone commented as Dream dizzily pulled herself out of the wall.

Jillie grabbed Myrtle's hand and held it up in a victorious pose. "Our winner is Myrtle! Congratulations, you have won Ronald Weasel."

Please don't hug me, Ron suddenly thought.

She was coming toward him, smiling broadly and too flirtatiously. Dang, but she wasn't all that cute. Not at all. "This is so exciting! I've never won anything before! Usually because people cheat. . ."

"Do something," Ron muttered.

"Congratulations on winning," Percy said. "And as bonus you've also won me. Mostly because two ghosts of opposite genders can not stay in a bathroom together."

Myrtle rolled her eyes. "You're not coming."

"Actually. . . you can't stop me."

Ron laughed. Myrtle didn't know of the binding. He held up his wrist, displaying the rope. "Percy goes wherever I go."

Myrtle did not return the laugh. "That's not funny! That's just sick! So take those off!"

"It's not a trick," Cornelia said. "They're telling the truth."

It was Dream who told the story, at least as much as she had heard of it. She turned out to be the best one for the task, though the flattery on Ron's part became uncomfortably flowery after a time. Though it was nice to hear all blame go to Percy.

Amazing how he just took that kind of thing, Ron thought, glancing at his brother.

"Wow," said an older ghost Ron had never met before. "That's terrible."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" Myrtle cried once the story was over. Her eyes began to feel up with teas. "It's so unfair! That stupid Bloody Baron! He's so mean to me. He did this to me!" She gave a terrible wail and flung herself towards the floor.

Everyone stared.

"There has to be some way of finding out how the Baron died," Cornelia mused. "Especially if it was interesting and he was someone important at this school."

"Whoever cared died seven centuries ago," Percy said.

The excitement of the fight couldn't last long with this being brought up again.

"Seven centuries ago? Now that was a fun time!" A figure burst into the room. Professor Binns.

"Binnichan!" Jillie shrieked.

"Of course it's me!" Binnichan stuck a hand through one of the skeleton balloons and used his fingers to mimic a talking mouth. "I'm so sorry I'm late but it has been a crazy day. I found a new way to bore my living students."

"You missed a good fight," Dream said. "I lost, but. . ."

Another sob rose from the floor.

"A cat fight, eh?" Binnichan looked thoughtful. "You didn't try and get a whole series going? We could have had elimination matches."

"Binnichan," Percy suddenly whispered. Almost excited.

But Percy couldn't stand the teacher. Ron frowned. "Percy?"

Percy just shook his head and pushed Ron to the side. "Binnichan! Professor Binns is teaches History of Magic."

"Yes, Percy, I've slept through his classes regularly."

"No, I mean yes!" It wasn't natural. Percy was absolutely thrilled over something. "History! He knows the history of just about everything."

A flicker of understanding bit at Ron's brain. "He might know. . ." Of course! Ron shot past his brother and into the Hufflepuff quill girl. "Binnichan!"

"Ron!" Binnichan smiled and held out a hand. "So you were the subject of the fights and making poor Myrtle miserable, weren't you?"

"Miserable Myrtle!" Peeves appeared in the center of the room, arms full of cupcakes. "Moaning Myrtle had to actually be invited to this party, while I can just show up. Happy Birthday, Miss Cornelia. Peevsies has brought you cake!"

Cornelia screamed as Peeves tossed one of the cupcakes through her arm.

"Now that is a proper birthday scream," Peeves said. "Do it again. No, do it while I throw these at Myrtle. Though the cake can't be good for her pimples."

"Peeves!" Myrtle wailed. "I hate this party, and I hate you, Cornelia!" She dashed through the wall, Peeves right behind her.

For a moment the room was silent.

"That was random," Ron said.

"I actually told him to do that," Binnichan said. "Hope you don't mind, Cornelia."

She glanced at the smashed cupcake on the floor. "I really didn't want Myrtle to come. Was it mean of me?"

Not at all, Ron thought. But it wasn't the time for this.

Percy beat him to the point. "Professor Binns–"

The ghost teacher laughed. "No, Binnichan. Get it right. It's expressive of my fondness for the Japanese culture."

Percy made a face. "Binnichan, then. Would you happen to know how the Bloody Baron died?"

The room went silent again. One of the chains even snapped from the wall.

Binnichan no longer looked so happy. Or so it seemed. Somewhere beneath his wrinkled face of horror was a tiny smile. "The Baron of Slytherin? You wish to know how he died?"

"Story time," someone muttered.

"We've become very interested in people's deaths," Ron explained.

Binnichan gave a dry laugh and leaned back toward the wall. "The Bloody Baron is hardly a popular ghost here. And he has such an image problem, you might see. Ever since he began haunting it. Which was long before my time, I might add. Oh, goodness, maybe I shouldn't be telling you this." Another laugh.

This wasn't the reaction expected.

"I want you to imagine Hogwarts seven hundred years ago," he continued. "A very different place than now. These dungeons were actually put to use. It was also a time of great fun, both in the Muggle and wizarding worlds. Some of the Hogwarts alumni even copied the bards and acting troupes the Muggles were so found of. Unfortunately, the make-up director for this particular acting troupe was also in his first year of teaching potions. Well. . ." Binnichan couldn't even pretend his laugh was nothing that time. "A batch of snidget feed was accidently mixed into a case of stage blood. Hadeus McFly, I believe, was the moron's name. Anyway, when the stage blood was dumped over the body of the actor playing the part of an imprisoned nobleman and that night's play. . . So unfortunate a Quidditch game was going on at the time."

Cornelia gasped. "He was. . pecked to death?"

Someone screamed.

Binnichan shook his head, chuckling. "Oh, no. The sight of the Snidget zooming at him startled the poor actor so much that he tripped off the stage. Nasty fall. Sadly fatal. It looked worse than it was because of all the stage blood."

Percy cleared his throat. "Erm... are you telling us that the Bloody Baron is covered in stage blood?"

"The truth is so much less dramatic, isn't it? Mind you, this has only been mentioned in a single textbook. Most people that try to write this down are driven to insanity by hauntings."

"And so for years the Bloody Baron has been pretending he's had a much more tragic and mysterious death," Ron said. "Percy, this is even better than your death."

There was a small smile as Percy nodded. "I'm actually disappointed. So the man's name was McFly that messed this up?"

Ron's heart sank. The man still had to be dead already. But that name McFly. . .

Dream suddenly screamed. "The time!"

"My party isn't over yet," Cornelia said.

"No, the time!" Dream pointed at the grated window. Sunset was long past. "Ginny Weasley said she was going home this weekend!"

"That's right!" Jillie squealed, smiling at Percy and Ron. "You have work to do."

"But we can't leave Cornelia's party," Percy protested.

"Is there plotting go on without me?" Binnichan asked.

"They're helping us with something," Dream said. "It's necessary that Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley be set up."

"Aw, that's so sweet!" Binnichan grinned at Ron. "So you told these girls you would to this for them? How kind of you to help in their matchmaking. Especially that it's involving your sister."

Ron shuddered. They had promised, hadn't they? They had been foolish enough to promise.

Jillie pulled him aside. "You have to go. I know about Cornelia's Snitch. And I can get one a lot worse for you."

The Burrow had always been strange in the dark, the subject of a hundred ghost stories in the Muggle village. It had been worse in the rain that horrible night. And that had been the last time Ron had gone back.

Percy, for some reason, had insisted they arrive in the yard, where the old trees brushed each other in the wind and a few lawn gnomes scurried across the grass, one with a chicken after him. The windows revealed a few lights of people still up.

"I think Charlie's visiting, too," Percy said, pointing at a window. "You can hear him."

Silence. The excitement of the party, of finding out how the Baron had died, was gone. Why did it have to be back at the house? Why couldn't the girls work on Ginny if they cared so much about all of this? The past few weeks at the school had almost convinced Ron that this place didn't exist. But this house held even more memories than Hogwarts. "Why didn't we just go to Ginny's room? She might be asleep."

Percy shrugged. "I just wanted to see the whole thing, that's all." He drifted to the door, not even lifting his hand in some pretense of opening the handle.

Ron followed. The kitchen, clean and tidy with the last of the dinner dishes setting themselves away. Odd. They had rarely come to home to visit when there wasn't a holiday. But here it was, his mum and dad and the twins and Ginny and maybe even Charlie. Ron glanced at the clock, his mum's special one.

Mortal Danger, he thought. That's where his hand should have been pointing. Maybe it had been there for a second, that split second when Voldemort's spell had struck him.

But he didn't even have a hand there.

"Mum must have taken it down," Percy said. "The clock doesn't work when you're. . . dead. The Mortal Danger is the worse it will give."

Dad's had been there when he had been attacked by the snake.

"What about you?" Ron asked. "You don't have a hand up there, either. Mum and Dad. . . it must have taken awhile for you to choke to death. Wouldn't they have seen it here? And then what happens?"

Percy sniffed. "I don't know what it showed. Do you know what happened?"

To his surprise Ron didn't know. Percy's hand must have been taken off. But when? Maybe when he wasn't around. He could imagine it, though. His parents in a fight. His dad had always been so mad about Percy. Maybe he had taken it down.

He forced a laugh. "Don't think it would have helped much, anyway."

"I think you're right." He headed toward the stairs.

"Percy, you do remember that we can go through walls and ceilings." This whole situation could go so much faster. Talk to Ginny for a few minutes, than leave. They didn't need to be here.

Percy didn't reply, but floated up the stairs as if he were merely walking.

Ron sighed and followed him. Though it would be so much easier to go to Ginny on his own. Except for the stupid bindings. So he followed Percy up the staircase. It was so strange. How many times had everyone ran up and down those stairs until the whole house rang with footsteps?

Ginny's bedroom door was open. She wasn't in it.

She was on the next flight of stairs, hand on the rail and foot frozen above one step. She was already for bed. Maybe she had even been sleeping. "Mum?" she called. "Mum?" She listened for a moment and, receiving no reply, continued up the stairs. "Mum?"

She reached the floor where Ron's room was. That door was open, light flooding the dark hallway.

Ron felt himself go cold.

Ginny froze at the doorway. She couldn't go in. "Mum? What are you doing here?"

Their mother was in there, sitting on Ron's neatly made bed. A sweater was in her hands, an ugly maroon thing from a few Christmases before. She was crying.

Ron noticed that Percy looked away.

"Ginny." The sweater was quickly folded. "I thought you were in bed, dear."

Ginny shrugged. "I didn't hear you go to bed. I heard Dad go, and you in the kitchen, but you didn't go to you room."

Molly forced a tearful smile. "Amazing what you can hear in this house."

Ginny sat down on the bed next to her. "This is so weird. Ron never made his bed."

"I know. He'd hate this."

"I don't think he would. I don't think he minds."

Well, Ron had to admit the bed did look nicer with smooth covers.

Ginny looked at the family portrait on the dresser, then pressed her face into her mother's shoulder.

Ron wanted to leave. Ginny crying, his mum crying. . .

Molly pulled her daughter into a hug, trying herself not to cry any more. "Maybe you should be in bed. So should I. I know I should do something with all of things, get them organized, but I can't even open his school trunk."

Ginny sniffed and pulled away, her eyes red. "The worst part is that Percy doesn't even know. Of if he does, he hasn't contacted us. I was thinking about that today. He had to know. All the newspapers talked about it, so he had to know. So how could he not even care?"

That touched something on her mother, whose hands were suddenly over her mouth. "Ginny, you can't think that way. You can't assume that."

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "I'm sorry."

"I'm leaving," Percy whispered. It wasn't long before the fifty feet had been taken up. Ron didn't hear anymore.

"I think they're asleep now," Ron said an hour later. Percy had returned to the kitchen and had refused to move. Had refused to even talk, despite Ron's attempts that he eventually let slide away. Ron had spent the time wandering where he could, wishing so much he didn't have to be in that house. If he had to be, why couldn't his mum at least be happy over something? Not crying over some stupid sweater.

Then Ginny had to accuse Percy of not caring. Of being alive.

He glanced back at Percy, who was hovering in a corner, staring at the wall. He had been like that the entire time. "Percy, let's just get this done," he pleaded. "Just so we can leave."

Nothing.

"We can just say we talked to Ginny. They'll believe us. Let's just leave."

Again nothing.

Ron almost panicked. Percy could always be provoked to talking.

"Well, I'm leaving, then."

"Upstairs first."

"So you can speak."

"Ron. . ."

He froze, waiting for Percy to say more.

He didn't, just headed back up the stairs.

Ginny's door was closed this time. So she had gone to sleep. Ron pressed through the door. Even in the darkness he could still see several themes of pink. He rarely went into Ginny's room–none of them good, not without her screaming about some delusional rights to privacy. Should he be in here now? At least she wasn't protecting the place with a force field.

Pig's cage was at her bedside. It was empty and the window was slightly open. The little pest was out hunting. Hopefully another toad wouldn't attack him.

And there she was. Ginny, wrapped up under a number of blankets, breathing gently as she slept.

The only sister in the family. And now the subject of some obnoxious plot. Well, he had better get it over with.

Go visible, he commanded himself. Whatever he had done with Hermione. . . he felt pretty sure he could do it again.

"Just tell yourself to do it," Percy whispered. "Ginny. . ."

Ginny shifted slightly on her pillow.

"Ginny," Ron echoed. "I hate to do this to you, but you remember that crush you had on Harry? Well, some people think you still have it."

"When you shouldn't," Percy put in.

Ron elbowed him. "Ginny, you need to talk to Harry. Get him to ask you out. You want to. He wants to ask you out." Not necessarily, but there would be people working on that. "You used to be friends with him. Be friends again."

He suddenly heard himself. How pathetically stupid was this?

"Steal Harry's Quidditch things," he continued. "Then he'll have to notice you."

And then her eyes flickered open.

Ron swore. Just like Hermione.

She blinked slowly. "Quidditch?" Her unfocused eyes seemed to fix on. . . him.

"Ginny," he heard himself repeat.

She shook her head sleepily. "Ron? Why are you in my room?" Her head dropped back to her pillow. "Get out before I tell Mum." The last part was barey audible.

She thought she was dreaming. "Not until you talk to Harry."

"Okay,"she murmured again, reopening her eyes. "Why do you have that stupid rope on your wrist?"

If only she knew. So she could see him. Like Hermione could. She could see him and hear him. He could talk to her.

"Ginny, how are you doing?" he asked.

She was fast asleep again.

He watched her for a few more moments. She had seen him. Even if she thought she was dreaming.

"Percy," he whispered. "She saw me. Percy?"

He looked around the room. Percy was gone.

His parents' room wasn't so far from Ginny's. Just through the ceiling and a little bit over. And he had seen Ginny, he had done his part. Ron could finish up there. He had always been closer to Ginny, anyway. Not that they all hadn't just loved her. The wonderful role of being a big brother.

But there were other people Percy had to see.

No, hadn't wasn't the right word. He shouldn't even be there. He didn't deserve to be there. And yet in the year since he had died he had come, watching so much more than Ron could have guessed. They were still mad at him. Percy was aware of that. Sometimes he would come and find himself the topic of some nasty conversation. Not pleasant. But he deserved it. He more than deserved it and now he was paying the price.

Sometimes they wanted him to come back. But that's just what they said.

It was better this way. He had decided that long ago. He didn't doubt that they loved him; he had heard that and actually believed it. So that's why it was better. They could think that he was still alive and maybe one day would just waltz through the door and upset everything all over again. So it was better that they thought he was alive. Ron didn't understand that.

He couldn't do what he had done and have everything perfect again.

The stupidest thing he had ever done. . . Sometimes he was the idiot.

Percy stood at the edge of the bed, gazing at his sleeping parents. They were good people, they really were. And they had always been so proud of everything that he had done.

Especially his dad. He had always wanted someone to follow him into the Ministry.

Percy had always wanted to make him proud. To show him just what their family was capable of. How could he have been so dumb?

He still remembered that awful fight on the night he had left. He had never apologized for it. Not out loud, for all the imagined ones.

Ron would come looking for him soon.

His dad gave a snore and rolled over.

Percy loved them so much. Maybe that's why he come back to the house so often. He was visible still, from talking to Ginny. They could hear him. Not that it mattered.

But he heard himself say it anyway. "I'm sorry."

"Percy?"

He gave a small cry and whirled around.

Ron stood a few feet away, ghastly silver in the faint moonlight from the window.

"What?"

"I'm done with Ginny." He shrugged.

Ginny. Of course. Percy nodded. Did Ron want him to say something more?

"So. . . I guess we're done?"

"Yes, we're done. Time to find work on this McFly case. "What other point was there to stay here?

SHOUT OUTS!

ArcherofDarkness: Ooh... it would be fun to have Hermione and Harry get in a fight!

Avalon Estel: Ron was asking to die. Not really. Actually, Percy was my original ghost, and I picked Ron to die to hang out with him. Then it became a Ron story. Oh well.

CharliesMommy: Craziness is good!

Crystal Lightning: Heck, I'm waiting for Rowling to send Harry and Ginny on a date!

db: there was a little angst in this chapter, and I promise to get you more.

Dr. Huff-Puff: Welcome. Hey, I finally got around to ordering 10th Kingdom on DVD, but it is so taking its sweet time getting here. Grr.

duj: Nice to see another person who feels somewhat bad for Percy. I mean, could you imagine watching your brother die like that? As for Snape... you shall see. There actually was a reason for the office, as you so wisely guessed.

EternallyLost: Yeah, Percy just hangs around being mean while Ron does all the work. Percy had better help on this task.

HiddenFlame42: No, Snape didn't see the Baron. The Baron was also invisible. And now I know the 12 reference!

hydraspit: Yeah, the girls did interrupt. Percy and Ron may never get a chance to bond. Stupid girls.

Just Curious: I've always liked Percy. I feel he needs to be redeemed. But I also want him to suffer during the process. Because he was naughty. Glad you approve.

Krenya-Alenak: Well, this story takes place during the 7th book, and I like to imagine that there would have been enough problems after Book 5 that some people did have to learn the Forbidden Curses. Though Ron apparently couldn't do a good enough job of the Crucio curse. Anywho, that was my logic.

Lady Kazaana: Now that you know how the man died, do you understand why he didn't give more detail?

Lady Meriadoc: Glad you like Dream! She's kind of fun to write. She's obnoxious, but she's fun.

Lahar: Yes, poor Percy. I mean, would you want to watch your sibling get killed?

meenyrocks: This is actually the quickest I've given a death explanation.

PhoenixLupin: Lol! The girls were characters my cousins came up with. They're almost an inside joke. But they are terribly obnoxious.

Pline: Dream's annoyingness is exactly why Ron shys away. Wouldn't you? )

rosepetal13: You hate Percy? I've always loved him! No!!! But I completely agree with you. He so went off my favorite character list when I read the 5th book.

Satine-cm: Your review made me so happy. Thanks! Glad you're enjoying this. As for the Grey Lady's trinket, it's important, but more for symbolism than any plot device. I think it's cool, anyway.

Tabitha78: Nope, Harry probably would not have succeeded. Ron's death gave him just the motive to put everything he had into defeating Voldy.

Tru Lys: Or I could just reveal the death in this chapter. Neener neener.

v-babe24: Thank-you! Let's do the rod 'n reel!

x-koko-x: Wow! Thanks for all the reviews! They were so great to read! And it's great to find someone else who has read Angels Don't Knock!

xXNaziHaloXx: Thanks! You always make my day.