Updated: 5-5-04
Author's Note: Ok, here's the next chapter. It's a tad short, but hopefully you'll forgive me for that, yes? Once again, thank you to my reviewers. Hope you enjoy.
chapter 42: LASCERATION - an open wound
Dashing through the portrait hole, Harry nearly collided with Seamus, who was on his way out. "Sorry," he muttered, continuing on his way up to the dormitory. "Hey," he yelled, spinning around as he realized who it was he had almost plowed down. "Have you seen Ron?"
Seamus shrugged. "I don't think he's up yet."
"Thanks." Harry hurried up the stairs, his knuckles standing out white where he clutched his broom in one hand. His heart was thudding hard in his chest with a combination of nervous fear and adrenaline.
He'd been in shock most of the time since he'd run into Hermione. As soon as he'd seen all of that blood, the part of him that wanted to scream and freak-out was shut out, walling away all the distraction of emotions. He'd just gone into action mode, immediately assisting Hermione in getting Zabini down to the infirmary, and casting aside all matters of House politics. Once they'd gotten down there, Madame Pomfrey had required their assistance. The wounds had covered the boy's body so extensively, that it had been necessary to have someone keeping him stable, while another worked on the healing. That was, of course, without even taking the matter of Zabini's messed up gravity into account. Afterwards Harry had been sent to fetch Dumbledore, while Hermione had gone after McGonagal.
All of the action had kept Harry from thinking too closely about what was going on. As soon as it was over, though, certain doubts and worries had begun to creep up on him until now Harry was in a state of full-blown, panicked paranoia. He couldn't believe that what had happened to Zabini and what was going on with Ron and Malfoy weren't somehow related, and he was very, very afraid for his friend.
Up in the tower, Harry rushed over and pushed aside the curtains around Ron's bed. It was empty. The bed clothes were rumpled, but that didn't really say anything. Ron almost never made his bed. For a moment, panic overwhelmed Harry's senses and he stood frozen, not knowing what to do, but convinced that something horrible had happened to Ron. Finally, a reasonable part of his brain kicked in, made him take a deep breath, and then suggested that Ron might be in the showers. Doing his best to keep from running, Harry took another deep breath, and headed down.
As soon as he entered the showers, Harry felt relief crash over him in a wave. There was Ron, looking totally normal, standing across the room. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and his back was to Harry, but that distinctive red hair made him recognizable anywhere. "Hey, Ron!"
Ron turned, the serious expression on his face turning into a smile as soon as he saw Harry. "Hey, Harry."
Harry couldn't help but grin back, the relief he felt at seeing his friend safe was palpable. As he crossed the room over to Ron, though, something caught his attention that made his skin go cold. All along one side, dotting Ron's arm, shoulder and chest, were a multitude of misshapen wounds in various stages of healing. Harry couldn't believe how many there were, and suddenly he was reminded of the dream he had had, of watching Ron writhing in a pool of his own blood as more and more wounds blossomed over his skin. The parallels between the dream and what he had seen that morning with Zabini made Harry shudder. How much had Ron bled for Malfoy? And if a person were capable of scarring his friend so savagely, what else might they do? What kind of monster could they become? The smile died on Harry's lips, and fear once again washed into his heart.
Running all the way, Ron had made it back to Gryffindor tower and managed to shower in record time, and was pleased to assure himself that he would not be missing breakfast. He felt disappointed that he and Draco hadn't managed to find much the night before. In fact, there was a lot about that night that was disturbing, or else he wasn't sure what to think of it, so he was doing his best Not to think of it at the moment. Better just to think about how he really needed to try to pay attention in Potions, and what he would do about the fact that he hadn't written his Transfiguration essay yet.
He was just about to head up to the dorm for clean clothes, when he heard someone enter the room behind him. "Hey, Ron!"
Ron turned, smiling to see that it was Harry. Just being around Harry might cheer him up and help keep his mind off certain matters he wasn't prepared to think about. "Hey, Harry." Harry smiled and walked toward him.
Without warning, Harry's smile died on his lips, and the color drained from his face. Worried, Ron put a hand out to Harry's shoulder. "Harry?" he asked, not knowing what had suddenly gone wrong. Then he saw the direction of Harry's gaze. Looking down, he realized what Harry had seen. They'd forgotten to put the glamour back. How could they have forgotten? How could his vigilance have slipped and let this happen? Standing there in front of Harry without the glamour, with this other part of himself exposed, Ron suddenly felt very naked.
Ron reached quickly for his robe, but he was stopped by Harry's hand on his wrist. "How can he DO this to you?" Harry's voice was harsh, and when Ron looked up he saw an ugly, hate filled expression clouding his face. His eyes, usually so bright and friendly, were now dark and angry, and Ron wished desperately that he could erase the image of that expression on Harry's face from his mind. "How can you LET him do this to you?!"
The words stabbed through Ron like a knife. Harry had no idea what he was asking, had no idea of the darkness that was attached to that question. Ron squeezed his eyes shut, feeling tears prick at his lashes, as the memory of a similar question echoed through his mind, as well as the bloody scene that had followed. Lucius Malfoy hadn't understood, either, and death had been the result.
Firming his resolve, Ron opened his eyes and stared directly back into Harry's angry eyes. "Never ask that question again, Harry."
Harry dropped his wrist in disgust, and Ron quickly snatched up his robes, flinging them around his shoulders. "Why? Because you're afraid to face what's happening? Because you're afraid to see him for the monster he truly is? You can't let this keep going on, Ron. You've got to do something."
"Monster? Harry, do you even know what you're saying?" Ron's voice was pleading but he was also starting to get very angry. "THIS isn't the problem," he said, gesturing towards the still exposed marks on his chest. "It's questions like that that are the problem, Harry. They only lead to darkness, and violence. Can't you understand?"
"Violence?" Harry snorted. "And what do you call that?" he shouted. "What I SEE is my best friend covered in scars. What I've SEEN is Zabini lying half dead in the infirmary, because some psychopathic MONSTER took a knife to him and practically cut him to ribbons!" Harry put his hands to his face. "There was so much blood, Ron. You wouldn't believe. There was just so much blood."
Ron stood frozen in place. What had she done? He had thought that they'd stopped her for at least a little bit last night. Now it sounded like there had been more than just him involved. "What happened, Harry?" All emotion had gone out of Ron's voice. He didn't dare let it show through. He was afraid it might overwhelm him.
Harry took his hands away from his head and looked up at Ron fiercely. "What happened?! What happened is Hermione found Blaise Zabini hung up on the wall outside the common room this morning, Ron. Hung up like some sick trophy. He was naked and covered in so many cuts we weren't able to count them. He was this close to being dead." Harry advanced on Ron and took him roughly by the shoulders. "You can't pretend he's not dangerous, Ron. You can't pretend that he's just some victim. He's not."
Ron pushed himself out of Harry's grasp and walked away a few paces. "Why do you assume it was Malfoy who did that, Harry? Why are you so convinced he's a villain?"
"And why are you so convinced he's innocent?" Harry flung his hands up in the air. "He's possessed by a demon, Ron! He's never had any morals, and now this! Who else would it be? He's capable of anything!"
Ron's eyes flashed dangerously. "Draco didn't do it, Harry."
Harry's eyes narrowed. "Why are you defending him?" He took a menacing step forward. "And how can you be sure? How do you know it wasn't him?"
"It wasn't him." Ron's voice was dark and firm, and he enunciated each word very clearly.
"How do you know?!" Harry shouted. He was now standing nose to nose with Ron and the two boys were glaring into each other's eyes.
Ron pressed his lips together in a tight line. He couldn't tell Harry why he knew that Malfoy didn't do it. Harry wouldn't believe him anyway. If he told him that they'd both been in the library all night, Harry would want to know why, and he would certainly never believe that Ginny had anything to do with it. Despite the fact that Ginny had been possessed once in their second year, Harry would never believe her guilty over Draco, or would say that Draco was using some sort of magic to force her to do those things. Either way, he would find ways to see his own way, no matter what Ron argued.
Ron hated fighting with his friend like this, but right now there was nothing he could do about it. "I'll see you in class, Harry," he said, then turned and walked out the door.
Author's Note: Ok, here's the next chapter. It's a tad short, but hopefully you'll forgive me for that, yes? Once again, thank you to my reviewers. Hope you enjoy.
chapter 42: LASCERATION - an open wound
Dashing through the portrait hole, Harry nearly collided with Seamus, who was on his way out. "Sorry," he muttered, continuing on his way up to the dormitory. "Hey," he yelled, spinning around as he realized who it was he had almost plowed down. "Have you seen Ron?"
Seamus shrugged. "I don't think he's up yet."
"Thanks." Harry hurried up the stairs, his knuckles standing out white where he clutched his broom in one hand. His heart was thudding hard in his chest with a combination of nervous fear and adrenaline.
He'd been in shock most of the time since he'd run into Hermione. As soon as he'd seen all of that blood, the part of him that wanted to scream and freak-out was shut out, walling away all the distraction of emotions. He'd just gone into action mode, immediately assisting Hermione in getting Zabini down to the infirmary, and casting aside all matters of House politics. Once they'd gotten down there, Madame Pomfrey had required their assistance. The wounds had covered the boy's body so extensively, that it had been necessary to have someone keeping him stable, while another worked on the healing. That was, of course, without even taking the matter of Zabini's messed up gravity into account. Afterwards Harry had been sent to fetch Dumbledore, while Hermione had gone after McGonagal.
All of the action had kept Harry from thinking too closely about what was going on. As soon as it was over, though, certain doubts and worries had begun to creep up on him until now Harry was in a state of full-blown, panicked paranoia. He couldn't believe that what had happened to Zabini and what was going on with Ron and Malfoy weren't somehow related, and he was very, very afraid for his friend.
Up in the tower, Harry rushed over and pushed aside the curtains around Ron's bed. It was empty. The bed clothes were rumpled, but that didn't really say anything. Ron almost never made his bed. For a moment, panic overwhelmed Harry's senses and he stood frozen, not knowing what to do, but convinced that something horrible had happened to Ron. Finally, a reasonable part of his brain kicked in, made him take a deep breath, and then suggested that Ron might be in the showers. Doing his best to keep from running, Harry took another deep breath, and headed down.
As soon as he entered the showers, Harry felt relief crash over him in a wave. There was Ron, looking totally normal, standing across the room. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and his back was to Harry, but that distinctive red hair made him recognizable anywhere. "Hey, Ron!"
Ron turned, the serious expression on his face turning into a smile as soon as he saw Harry. "Hey, Harry."
Harry couldn't help but grin back, the relief he felt at seeing his friend safe was palpable. As he crossed the room over to Ron, though, something caught his attention that made his skin go cold. All along one side, dotting Ron's arm, shoulder and chest, were a multitude of misshapen wounds in various stages of healing. Harry couldn't believe how many there were, and suddenly he was reminded of the dream he had had, of watching Ron writhing in a pool of his own blood as more and more wounds blossomed over his skin. The parallels between the dream and what he had seen that morning with Zabini made Harry shudder. How much had Ron bled for Malfoy? And if a person were capable of scarring his friend so savagely, what else might they do? What kind of monster could they become? The smile died on Harry's lips, and fear once again washed into his heart.
Running all the way, Ron had made it back to Gryffindor tower and managed to shower in record time, and was pleased to assure himself that he would not be missing breakfast. He felt disappointed that he and Draco hadn't managed to find much the night before. In fact, there was a lot about that night that was disturbing, or else he wasn't sure what to think of it, so he was doing his best Not to think of it at the moment. Better just to think about how he really needed to try to pay attention in Potions, and what he would do about the fact that he hadn't written his Transfiguration essay yet.
He was just about to head up to the dorm for clean clothes, when he heard someone enter the room behind him. "Hey, Ron!"
Ron turned, smiling to see that it was Harry. Just being around Harry might cheer him up and help keep his mind off certain matters he wasn't prepared to think about. "Hey, Harry." Harry smiled and walked toward him.
Without warning, Harry's smile died on his lips, and the color drained from his face. Worried, Ron put a hand out to Harry's shoulder. "Harry?" he asked, not knowing what had suddenly gone wrong. Then he saw the direction of Harry's gaze. Looking down, he realized what Harry had seen. They'd forgotten to put the glamour back. How could they have forgotten? How could his vigilance have slipped and let this happen? Standing there in front of Harry without the glamour, with this other part of himself exposed, Ron suddenly felt very naked.
Ron reached quickly for his robe, but he was stopped by Harry's hand on his wrist. "How can he DO this to you?" Harry's voice was harsh, and when Ron looked up he saw an ugly, hate filled expression clouding his face. His eyes, usually so bright and friendly, were now dark and angry, and Ron wished desperately that he could erase the image of that expression on Harry's face from his mind. "How can you LET him do this to you?!"
The words stabbed through Ron like a knife. Harry had no idea what he was asking, had no idea of the darkness that was attached to that question. Ron squeezed his eyes shut, feeling tears prick at his lashes, as the memory of a similar question echoed through his mind, as well as the bloody scene that had followed. Lucius Malfoy hadn't understood, either, and death had been the result.
Firming his resolve, Ron opened his eyes and stared directly back into Harry's angry eyes. "Never ask that question again, Harry."
Harry dropped his wrist in disgust, and Ron quickly snatched up his robes, flinging them around his shoulders. "Why? Because you're afraid to face what's happening? Because you're afraid to see him for the monster he truly is? You can't let this keep going on, Ron. You've got to do something."
"Monster? Harry, do you even know what you're saying?" Ron's voice was pleading but he was also starting to get very angry. "THIS isn't the problem," he said, gesturing towards the still exposed marks on his chest. "It's questions like that that are the problem, Harry. They only lead to darkness, and violence. Can't you understand?"
"Violence?" Harry snorted. "And what do you call that?" he shouted. "What I SEE is my best friend covered in scars. What I've SEEN is Zabini lying half dead in the infirmary, because some psychopathic MONSTER took a knife to him and practically cut him to ribbons!" Harry put his hands to his face. "There was so much blood, Ron. You wouldn't believe. There was just so much blood."
Ron stood frozen in place. What had she done? He had thought that they'd stopped her for at least a little bit last night. Now it sounded like there had been more than just him involved. "What happened, Harry?" All emotion had gone out of Ron's voice. He didn't dare let it show through. He was afraid it might overwhelm him.
Harry took his hands away from his head and looked up at Ron fiercely. "What happened?! What happened is Hermione found Blaise Zabini hung up on the wall outside the common room this morning, Ron. Hung up like some sick trophy. He was naked and covered in so many cuts we weren't able to count them. He was this close to being dead." Harry advanced on Ron and took him roughly by the shoulders. "You can't pretend he's not dangerous, Ron. You can't pretend that he's just some victim. He's not."
Ron pushed himself out of Harry's grasp and walked away a few paces. "Why do you assume it was Malfoy who did that, Harry? Why are you so convinced he's a villain?"
"And why are you so convinced he's innocent?" Harry flung his hands up in the air. "He's possessed by a demon, Ron! He's never had any morals, and now this! Who else would it be? He's capable of anything!"
Ron's eyes flashed dangerously. "Draco didn't do it, Harry."
Harry's eyes narrowed. "Why are you defending him?" He took a menacing step forward. "And how can you be sure? How do you know it wasn't him?"
"It wasn't him." Ron's voice was dark and firm, and he enunciated each word very clearly.
"How do you know?!" Harry shouted. He was now standing nose to nose with Ron and the two boys were glaring into each other's eyes.
Ron pressed his lips together in a tight line. He couldn't tell Harry why he knew that Malfoy didn't do it. Harry wouldn't believe him anyway. If he told him that they'd both been in the library all night, Harry would want to know why, and he would certainly never believe that Ginny had anything to do with it. Despite the fact that Ginny had been possessed once in their second year, Harry would never believe her guilty over Draco, or would say that Draco was using some sort of magic to force her to do those things. Either way, he would find ways to see his own way, no matter what Ron argued.
Ron hated fighting with his friend like this, but right now there was nothing he could do about it. "I'll see you in class, Harry," he said, then turned and walked out the door.
