Shutting the Proverbial Stable Door

"He killed you as well."

The words reverberated around the room and all eyes secured on Ron, he merely nodded in confirmation. Harry was the first to break contact. He clumsily stood and moved quietly to the back of the room, his head bowed. Hermione stilled at her words and covered her mouth with her hands as if to take back her utterance.

Dumbledore broke the heavy silence. "Are you sure of this Mr Weasley?" his voice was dull with defeat.

"Certain, sir. I think he took the map as well when he realised that Professor Lupin had seen Sirius' name," Ron answered. He looked at the ashen faces surrounding him, now motionless by shock, and felt annoyance at their unnerving lack of action. "Sir, I'm worried about how much information Wormtail has passed on to Voldemort's supporters. If he's had the run of the school unsupervised all this time then who knows what he's picked up," he pressed trying to stir them into movement.

Harry's head jerked slightly at Ron's words. It was the first time his friend had ever said You-Know-Who's name without stuttering. He wondered if Ron even realised.

Behind the unreadable Headmaster's eyes a battle was taking place. He too had noted Mr Weasley's changing attitude to the dark forces corrupting his school and it may have been that which turned his mind from the dark well of finality he had almost resigned himself to. Mr Weasley was correct in his thinking that such a spy would have been undermining the Order at every chance- indeed it explained a few inconsistencies. However, would this information make any difference now? Was it worth shutting the stable door after the horse had bolted?

Albus had realised a very long time ago that the key to defeating your enemy was to never let them know what you were thinking, to be unpredictable so that they could never trap you into your own patterns. He had failed with Hogwarts. His love of the school and its students had ensnared him in a way in which all others had failed. A battle against the walls could be defeated, a physical blow deflected. But an insidious attack could root the weed before its thistle was even noticed. In all honesty it was no longer a question of if the forces of darkness would overpower him, it was a question of when.

His unreadable face now not only concealed his thoughts from his enemies but from his allies as well. As long as no one realised how clearly he saw the end there would still be hope, though to those who really knew him the fatigue was clear. They would fight to the last man standing- that had never been in question- but a select few knew, and many more suspected, that this was a fight that would end with the final member of The Cause taking their last breath. The tide had turned and the answering sea was rough; this was the end of the world as they knew it.

Dumbledore's eyes glinted as they cast their critical eye over Ron again. The sight of a gangly, teenage boy was not an obvious sign of hope, but did not the fate of a fair few worlds rest in the hands of another young hero with unruly hair and a lightning shaped scar? Maybe this world could not be saved, the rot went too deep; but in Ron's world? Perhaps his world could be saved from such a fate with the knowledge gained by the experience that he was receiving here.

The Headmaster mentally scolded himself for allowing his disciplined mind to give in to Voldemort's chipping chisel of mistrust and hate. It was still possible for a miracle to occur and negative thinking was only going to cause events to rush towards their conclusion faster. Their fates were not written in the stars or sewn into a tapestry. The forces of truth, honesty and equality could still win this war.

He ignored the rules of probability, which stated that, in some worlds at least, the result must be darkness. Every decision could go one way or the other and he resisted the thought that in his world the decisions had already been made.

"There is a chance that all is not lost," Dumbledore spoke, "we need to work out exactly what Pettigrew knows and if we can capture him it would give us a great advantage."

"I don't think that he knows about Ron," Lupin finally spoke, his voice sounded dry and scratchy, "If he did then we would all be under much closer scrutiny."

Hermione thought for a moment. "Although we've used the word 'world' a couple of times and stressed the difference between the two Ron's I don't think enough information could have been overheard for curiosity to be raised."

"Sorry Hermione but that isn't true," broke in Harry quietly, still hiding at the back of the room, "If our conversations were overheard from today then questions will definitely be asked."

"Maybe not," Ron argued back, "jumping between worlds isn't the most common of things to happen, not even for wizards. Remember as well that this is Wormtail we're talking about; he's a rat in all senses of the word. He won't pass on any information he's not sure of in case it's wrong and backfires."

Harry's thoughts though hadn't truly left their dredge through the memories of the worst night of his life. "Why didn't he come back and try again?" he whispered rhetorically.

Ron's forehead crinkled in confusion but Hermione understood as her thoughts had been travelling in the same direction as Harry's. She rose from her seat and walked slowly towards her vulnerable friend, as if he were an trapped animal ready to bolt.

"Harry," she whispered gently, "It wasn't your fault, okay?" She placed her hands on either side of his stooped head and gently forced eye contact. "Listen to me. You did not kill Ron. The man, if he deserves the description, that did is a coward who ran as soon as it was obvious that he couldn't complete his task."

"Why didn't he try again? Why not some other night?" He broke away from her grip, "Damn it Hermione! Why did it have to be Ron?" He calmed down slightly and stared at the floor, his back to everyone, "And why my Godfather? Isn't that my fault as well?"

Ron stirred suddenly from his stupor of watching his best friend disintegrate before his eyes. Swiftly he ran over to Harry and grabbed his shoulders. The limp body in his hands turned easily. "Harry," he breathed, desperately trying to find the words, "Sirius was a strong, brave man who loved you very, very much. He would not blame you for what happened."

Harry's eyes were watery but Ron could see a tiny glimmer of hope behind a barrier of guilt, "How do you know he cared about me here? This isn't your world, I never even spoke to him once."

Ron thought quickly back to third year and smiled slightly. "Do you remember the Grim at the quidditch match?" Harry nodded. "That was him. He wanted to see you fly- dead impressed he was. You reminded him of your father. And your Firebolt? That was him too, said it was for all of those birthdays he missed. He came back to Hogwarts to save you. He went after Wormtail to avenge you. He loved you and never, ever blamed you for anything."

Ron felt odd saying those sentimental words, they went against his blunt nature, but he could see that they were what Harry needed to hear.

"Of course he was slightly hypocritical by asking you to stay out of trouble when he deliberately went looking for it. And fleas Harry- Merlin, that dog form should have carried its own health warning. Oh yeah, not forgetting the fact that he actually liked Crookshanks!"

Harry gave chocked laugh at Hermione's humph of indignation. "Well we can't all be perfect," he sighed.

Ron smiled as his friend walked back from the precipice. Glancing at Hermione she saw her look at him approvingly and he felt a strong feeling of accomplishment.

"We will have to be more careful around the school," Lupin spoke bringing the attention of the group back to the decisions that Dumbledore needed to make.

The Headmaster bowed his head slightly in deliberation. "None of us are to talk of Mr Weasley's origins in any type of unencoded manner again, no matter how safe the area seems." The others nodded in acquiescence. "I will talk to those few members of staff that share our knowledge. Everyone must also remain vigilant in case Pettigrew makes anymore unwanted visits."

He cast his gaze over Ron once more, "I will ensure that back up plans are in place should the worst happen Mr Weasley. Do not worry. You will go home."

Ron stepped forwards towards the Headmaster, "Sir, I'm willing to do anything I can to help."

"That isn't necessary Mr Weasley."

"But I should have realised who Peter was earlier. I'm sorry," he muttered to the floor.

Dumbledore stood and looked down on the boy kindly, "I think that I too would have been slow to connect a killer to a harmless family pet of twelve years. Do not think badly of yourself, we know now and that is what matters." He turned to the rest of the room, "Come now, time passes and we are all missed."

Professor Lupin left first after making sure that the corridor was clear with Harry and Hermione close behind. Harry was still very quiet and introspective but Hermione guided him out sensing that Ron wasn't quite finished.

Dumbledore also noticed his hesitancy, "Yes Mr Weasley?"

"I want to see my sister, sir."

Ron's voice was uncompromising and, though Dumbledore would have preferred to resist such a request during such times, he answered quickly. "It will take some arranging but I will see what I can do," he agreed.

Ron grimly turned up the corners of his mouth and exited quickly. The table of untouched food promptly disappeared and the room became swallowed by darkness with only the Dumbledore's thoughts to feed from.


AN: Thank you all for your reviews- they really are wonderful, and of course to nattieb.

I have a confesion to make- I am very worried about this chapter. It's a little shorter than I'd like,a little less action packed than I'd prefer and I delved into Dumbledore's mind, which is always a risky thing to do. In conclusion the next one will hopefully bebetter. Get ready for atrip to St Mungo's.