NOTE: When I upload Chapter 14 the Title of this story will be "The Chaneller". I'm sorry to change it, but the current title doesn't sit well with me and while the new one isn't fantastic, it's better then this.
Chapter 12
Ron had been abnormally subdued since he had returned from visiting his family the weekend before. Seeing as he had been late meeting them in Hogsmeade they had been annoyed at first, but after five minutes both Harry and Hermione had realized something was wrong. Issues with the family had been the words Ron muttered in excuse, but despite Harry's egging he hadn't added any further explanation. They both knew that to dig further at that point would have placed Ron on the defensive, and since none of them had time to deal with an argument they let it drop. Harry had cursed himself several times in the following week for leaving the matter alone, because Ron had clammed up tighter then an Order of the Phoenix meeting and had been studiously avoiding them (more so then usual) ever since.
To put it bluntly, Harry was really worried about Ron, and Ron wasn't helping matters at all by trying to force a distance between them. With exams on top of that, and Hermione being more stressed out then Harry had ever seen her, Harry was at a loss as to what to do. He had pulled Ginny aside a few mornings before, and was told how she and her brothers had confronted him about his behaviour on the weekend, and that Ron hadn't taken well to it at all. She hadn't given him details, saying that they were going to meet up with them after exams and get to the bottom of Ron's worries together, and Harry would know, along with the rest of them, what was wrong. Of course, Harry really didn't think that ganging up on Ron was the smartest approach to take, and he said so, which then had her telling him that he really had no clue how Weasley's reacted when being ganged up on, and that it would work. Well, Harry had seen Ron being ganged up on many times in the past, and despite how well the Weasley's thought they knew their sibling, Harry felt that he knew him better. They had been best friends for seven years now, after all. Ron was not going to react well.
Harry was now walking alongside his best mate on their way into Hogsmeade, and they were both trying their best to be happy about the end of exams, and they were both doing a lousy job of it. Harry was upset because the end of exams meant the end of Hogwarts for him, and while he was happy to be growing up (though he sometimes felt years beyond his physical age) leaving school for good signified the end of the life he loved. He was afraid he'd lose contact with all his friends, he was afraid he wouldn't be a good auror despite being 'the boy who lived,' and he was afraid of the responsibilities of being an adult entailed. Then, at the same time, he was so excited he could hardly sit still. However, the air of melancholy that he felt surrounding him and Ron didn't really have much to do with the fact that they were leaving Hogwarts; it had to do with Ron's reason for being so distraught.
They were fast approaching the town of Hogsmeade and he could see the wizards and witches moving about in throngs, only a short distance away. There were other sixth and seventh years who had finished their finals that morning mixed in with the normal crowd of magical folk. As they approached he noticed that they both slowed down their steps to the point where they were almost shuffling. Harry looked up at Ron and the red head grinned sheepishly at him.
"Deja-vu" he muttered and Harry grinned suddenly, despite the gloomy atmosphere that surrounded him.
"Yeah, but we have nothin to worry about, neither of us scheduled a battle with the Dark Lord today…unless there's something your not telling me?" He quirked his eyebrow and Ron laughed.
"The only thing I have scheduled is a drink with my best mate to toast the end of school."
"I'm with you there." They were heading up the cobblestone path towards the Three Broomsticks when a patch of bright red hair began bobbing in and out of sight within the crowd. Ginny hadn't been joking when she said they were going to get Ron after exams, but Harry had hoped they'd give them at least two hours first. He felt his gut clench in frustration and agitation, honestly, what did it take to have a quite drink with a friend? But apparently that was too much to ask this day and Harry sighed to himself.
"Ron, I figure you should know that your family is planning on cornering you soon."
"Yeah, I saw the twins lurking around the town entrance when we came over the hill."
"You okay for this, or do you want to head back to the school? Escape them a bit longer maybe." Harry suggested lightly, trying not to react to grimness that was settling on Ron's features. Honestly, you'd think the end of the world was just around the corner, and knowing that Ron was feeling this out of sorts was enough of a reason for Harry to step between him and his family if need be. The last thing he wanted was for Ron to get hurt any more than he was already acting. Harry watched his freckled face as he squinted into the crowd to pin point his third brother, seeing the sharp blue eyes dart around searchingly a moment, before they suddenly turned their full attention on him. For a moment Harry was embarrassed to have been caught assessing his friend so, but then the embarrassment fell away to anxiety. Ron was looking at him with an earnestness that he hadn't shown in a long time, and intermingled with this was a shadow of fear that couldn't be hidden.
"Harry, there's something…something I need to tell you." He took a steadying breath and continued in the same tone before Harry could interrupt him. "I don't know if I said this enough over the years but, I really- I really am glad that you were my best mate. It's been brilliant, all of it. Okay?" For a moment all Harry could do was stare back at him, absolutely flummoxed. Ron nodded at him and then quickly broke their locked gaze, turning away from him as though he had completed his mission and was preparing to jump off of Big Ben. What the hell had brought that confession on? It wasn't as though Harry didn't feel the same, he honestly couldn't have made it through the last seven years if it hadn't been for Ron at his side, but this was a bit of a desperate confession coming from Ron. Then the taller, completely baffling boy started to walk away from him, going to meet his brother who was pushing his way through the crowd. Well, there was no way Harry was going to let Ron walk away without knowing that Harry felt the same way.
"Ron!" He called, his friend was only a few meters away and he turned half way to look enquiringly at Harry, the fear still set in his eyes. Harry was about to continue when the fear suddenly warped into shock and panic. Ron was raising his arm sharply to point out something behind him and Harry began twisting just as a harsh, gravelly voice rang out.
"Avada-" he couldn't see who was about to curse him, and the only thing he had time to do was close his eyes and hope it would be painless. There wasn't even time for true fear "-Kadavra." His breath was suddenly ripped from him and he staggered as though he had been hit with a soft bludger. He waited a fraction of a second, realized that there was no pain lingering and opened his eyes. A man in a dark grey cloak was pointing his wand at Harry, not five feet from him, but not even a trickle of magic flowed from the weapons tip. The haggard man stood there his face frozen with a look of absolute shock, before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his knees buckled. He fell heavily to the floor and Harry knew he was dead before he hit the ground. Harry's own head began to feel extremely heavy as he stared in shock at the sudden turn of events. He didn't understand what was going on. Shouldn't he be dead?
There was a silence all around him, one of shock no doubt, and through it he heard his name uttered, pitifully, and he turned back to his friend. Ron…Ron looked terrified, and his arm was outstretched in Harry's direction, his face was a sickly pale and Harry couldn't see any of his freckles, though that might have something to do with his own blurring vision. He opened his mouth to tell Ron he was all right, that the curse hadn't worked, but he only managed a rather embarrassing gargling sound before his legs seemed to disappear from beneath him. He thought he heard a strangled scream, something that sounded like no, but the blackness was calling him, and he just didn't have the strength to resist.
0000
Something was…off. He felt…off, somehow. This was the first thing he noticed as he slowly came back to consciousness. The second thing he noticed was that he was warm, lying on something soft. Then the ache in his head introduced itself, and he almost jerked in response to the sharp pounding. Slowly the ache seemed to travel down his body, his shoulders were in knots, his arms were heavy, his stomach was cramping in an uncomfortable fashion, even his toes tensed slightly, as though he had stood on their tips longer than was smart. He took a deep breath, and tried to will the ache away, to release it into the mattress he was lying on. After what felt like an hour, though was only minutes at most, he finally felt his body relax and he sighed in relief. He felt ready to move his attentions elsewhere, and the first question he had was where the bloody heck am I?
He cracked open his eyes and squinted around, trying to clear his blurred vision. The infirmary? He coughed harshly and reached over to the bedside table, finding a small cup of water. It wasn't enough to quench his thirst, but he greedily drank it down, relieved as the dryness in his throat disappeared. He looked around the brightly lit area, the sun was traveling across the stone floor through several windows on the west side of hospital, causing each particle of dust traveling through it to glimmer. Thankfully there was nobody else in the beds, but he had to wonder, in his foggy state, why nobody was here waiting with him. Harry had never left him to wake up alone if he didn't have to, and Madame Pomfry certainly didn't leave her patients to wake up without reassurances that they would recover fully. Alarm flooded through him: Maybe he wasn't going to recover, and she didn't want to be the bearer of bad news.
He lurched up in his bed and had to lean against the bed board, bracing himself from the sudden dizziness. There was still an ache residing throughout his body, and the damn fizzbangs wouldn't stop exploding inside his head, but other then that he didn't feel like anything was wrong. He had all his limbs, far as he could see, and he had no new limbs so that was good. He relaxed against the cool surface, realizing that he was being stupid. Pomfry probably had somewhere to be, and Harry and Hermione, they were probably off doing…something. Then he noticed a muffled sound, much like cheering, filtering through the windows. What could that be coming from? He turned his head sharply then, looking at the window to his left though he couldn't see out of it properly from where he lay. The quidditch pitch was on the west side of Hogwarts, so that would mean that a game was going on…he blinked, frowning hard, and tried to remember if there was a game he should be playing in. That wouldn't be right though, seeing as exams were over. This must be the charity game then…he sucked in a harsh breath, a burning fear began to overlay the knot his stomach was already in and he tried to think back.
Exams: over. Walking to town with Harry to celebrate; seeing his brother's hair in the crowd and knowing that his secret would soon be out, that he would have to leave. The fear that had slowly been eating away at him the past few months and had been momentarily forgotten, came rushing back. Oh god! They were going to hate him! He knew it was the only reasonable reaction they could have, he knew he was dangerous. He had had a moment of pure panic, just before he had to meet his brothers and sister for what would be their last argument as his family (for they would have to disown him), and he had gushed out how he felt to Harry. It had been pathetic really, a last dive to harbour Harry's loyalty as a friend even though he knew it was a selfish thing to do. He supposed he wanted it noted that he didn't regret their friendship despite everything.
Then…he was walking away, because Harry didn't have anything to really say in return, which wasn't that unusual considering that they were eighteen year old boys and it wasn't really in their nature to gush their feelings. The memories were rushing back suddenly, as though it had happened only moments before. Harry called him, he turned, and he had seen the grey shrouded wizard pointing his wand at Harry's back. Black eyes, he had black eyes and they were wrathful and he had a smile on his face as he began to clearly utter the killing curse. Harry! There had been no time to do anything but react! It took the course of two seconds to use the curse, nobody knew anything was going on, and there was no chance of Ron getting his wand to stop the man, or even push his friend out of the way! He had raised his arm, pointing at the aggressor as Harry had started to turn. His green eyes had been so shocked, Ron remembered every detail of his friends face in that moment. Harry hadn't been afraid, he was shutting his eyes and Ron reacted in kind.
He remembered! He remembered! His breathing became laboured and he was beginning to sweat in his bed, his legs shifting restlessly as he thought back to the previous day. Harry! The Death Eater, and there was no doubt in Ron's mind that that was what the wizard was, began throwing his curse and Ron had panicked. He blindly summoned the beings energy in desperation and it was ripped, ruthlessly, from him. Ron had felt it enter his own body and then rush out into the ground through his feet as his body automatically purged the evil aura. The curse had been spoken, but the Death Eater's wand failed to produce, and people suddenly froze as the evil curse carried through the air…Harry staggered. Oh Merlin! Harry staggered, and Ron stared at him in horror; he had taken some of Harry's energy too! He felt it within him. The Death Eater collapsed, dead, but Ron hadn't been able to feel any remorse as Harry was looking back at him; his green eyes were glazed in confusion. Ron froze, no matter how much he had wanted to go to his friend he had been frozen to the spot. Harry had opened his mouth, a weak gurgle emerged, and then his eyes rolled back in his head, just like the dead wizard behind him, and he fell.
"No." He whimpered now in the suddenly cold hospital wing. He clutched his head in his hands, pulling at his hair. "No." Harry wasn't in the bed next to him, and Harry wasn't waiting for him to wake up…Harry's eyes had rolled into the back of his head and he…he had…Ron sobbed a deep breath in and felt the tears welling in his eyes. He tried to blink them back, calm his breathing, even as the overwhelming emotions flooded him. "No, no, nonono!" He threw his arms down and ripped the bed covers off, standing up urgently. Harry couldn't be dea…gone! He couldn't! Ron could not have killed him! He would have known if he had! He fell back on the bed as his legs refused to cooperate for a moment, and he pushed himself up, readying to try standing again. Then he looked around. The room was empty, completely deserted.
Pomfrey wasn't there to make sure he was okay, Harry…Hermione wasn't there, none of his brothers or sister was there, his parents…nobody was there at all to greet him, or yell at him, or disown him. Nobody was there, which meant that he must have killed Har…he must have taken too much of his friends energy along with the Death Eaters. The door to the hospital wing suddenly burst open and Ron wrenched around as Minister Fudge (because it wasn't only muggles that re-elected idiots), red faced and puffing as though out of breath, headed straight at Ron, fury in his eyes. Apparently he wasn't afraid of Ron yet, despite the fact that he was homicidal. Ron didn't flinch as the short man stopped right in front of him and glared down, his bowler hat pushed back on his forehead, before he pulled back his arm as if to slap Ron. He hesitated a moment and then dropped it, settling instead for pacing a furious two step path in front of him.
"You! You!" He spluttered, at a loss for what to say, but Ron was already tuning him out with long practiced ease as his body began to shake and his headache came back and all he could think about was how Harry's eyes had rolled back into his head and he had fallen like a potato sac to the cobbled path. Ron had screamed, he remembered suddenly losing control and screaming for Harry, wanting him to wake up so desperately that he wasn't even aware of what he was doing. He had meant to go to him, but he had fallen, tripping over his own feet, scraping his hands bloody on the ground before passing out in oblivion. He looked at his hands, they were fine now, even normal he supposed, for a killer.
"You should be appalled! Hiding something of this magnitude from us for so long!"
"Appalled isn't quite the word I would use." He heard himself saying, stopping Fudge's rant abruptly. He couldn't stop looking at his hands, but he could see the minister only a foot away in his peripheral vision. He had to find out what really happened to Harry. "Harry?" He had wanted to say something more intelligent, but his throat seized on him suddenly, just saying his friends name had been hard enough.
"How dare you ask about him!" Fudge was furious and Ron flinched back at his hiss, feeling the numbness of shock beginning to run through him. How dare indeed. Ron had his answer, he had killed his best friend, the one person in his life that meant as much to him as his closest brother, only they had been closer. He had killed the man he had sworn to protect. He had accomplished what Voldemort hadn't, despite the fact that he hadn't done it intentionally. That was cold comfort.
"…should go to Azkaban!" Ron instantly tuned back into Fudge's fury, not catching the entire sentence. "Something so serious can not be forgiven, though I suppose there are ways around it." The ministers beady brown eyes focused on him sharply and Ron stared back, breaking out of his painful stupor. Azkaban, he deserved to go there, he knew he did…but he couldn't. Fudge was looking at him with a hungry glint in his eyes and he stared back, not fully understanding what the minister was saying. Azkaban…
"I can't go to Azkaban." He replied, weakly, and Fudge looked like he had to strain to hear him even in the silent room. Cheers erupted on the quidditch field and he felt anger blossom within. How dare they celebrate that stupid game at a time like this! Harry was dead! Didn't they know what that meant!
"What? You will do whatever I decide!" Fudge fumed, eyes glinting in a way that Ron would have thought predatory if he wasn't so lost in his emotions. No, he couldn't go to Azkaban, and he couldn't let the ministry have him. He deserved it, Merlin he knew he did, but to be locked up in there! They would have complete control over him, and if they had that kind of control over him…this power they could have…he wasn't so far gone in grief that he didn't know exactly how dangerous that was. He had been thinking about this for a long time now, after all. They would be able to fake his death all too easily, make him disappear for their own purposes. He shuddered; he couldn't let that happen.
"No." His voice still wavered, but he held firm. "I will not put myself in a position that would allow the Ministry, or others, power over me." The minister went to speak again but Ron ignored him as he turned to look at his bedside table. His wand was there, sitting beside the cup that he had drank from a lifetime ago. He reached over and picked it up, but the minister didn't seem to notice this rather drastic action, being too furious with Ron to pay proper attention. Ron prayed to all that was magical that he would one day be forgiven for his actions of the last twenty four hours.
"You are not in a position to ever demand such rights! You are a chaneller, and need to be controlled!" Fudge yelled, and Ron pointed his wand at the man.
"Petrificus totalus." He commanded, and the red faced man toppled forward onto the bed, his arms and legs pulling tightly to him. Ron jumped up and quickly pulled the covers off, then used his not inconsiderable strength to roll the minister on to the mattress, covering him with the blanket. Ron was certain he was going to be sent to live with Dementors and Tom Riddle in his afterlife. He looked at his hand still clutching his wand, his knuckles were white around the grip and his entire arm seemed to be shaking. It was a wonder he had pulled off the charm successfully.
He stared at the wand, unable to help himself as the polished wood shone so warmly. He wouldn't keep it; he didn't have the right to be armed with it after what he had done. He had lived with magic for so long now that suddenly not having his wand would be handicapping him in a way he had never known before. Breathing was becoming difficult for him as he stared. Harry wouldn't be using his wand anymore, so Ron shouldn't have his own. But, before he snapped it…he pointed it at himself.
"Na recados." The blue light sparkled around him, turned black, and disappeared. He had cast a spell that would hide him from magical seekers, such as owls. If messages could reach him, then the ministry could find him. Sirius had told him about that charm one late evening at Grimauld Place, but had said he'd never used it because then Harry and the Order wouldn't have been able to contact him if they needed to. Funny that he had remembered this charm so easily when he usually had trouble with some of the simplest spells. He gripped his wand tightly in both hands and, with minimal hesitation, snapped the well polished wood in half, noting off handed that the unicorn hair kept the pieces uselessly attached. He stared at it, numb, snapping ones own wand…he dropped it to the ground, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw white and took deep calming breaths. He had made a choice now, and he had to stick to it. He dropped his hands, waited for his vision to clear, and then headed for the hospital door. There was no one outside, and he began to jog to Gryffindor tower. He passed two Ravenclaws, who jumped out of his way and stared at him in confusion when he didn't return their happy greetings. He didn't have time for them, he had to get out of Hogwarts before somebody realized what he had done.
"Nicker neclace!" He gasped and the fat lady swung her portrait door open.
"Dear! Why aren't you at the game? Everyone who…" Her voice trailed off as he disappeared into the stairwell and rushed up to his room. Bursting inside he headed straight for his bed. Everything he had was neatly packed up, waiting to be taken home after the game was through. He stared at his trunk blankly a moment, and a hollowness engulfed his chest, aching in misery. He looked over at Harry's bed, staring. Harry's firebolt was lying carefully across his blankets, just where he'd left it after their last exam. Ron turned away sharply and angrily wiped at the tear that had escaped. He would cry later.
He pulled open his trunk and grabbed his empty book bag, stuffing it with another set of pants, the maroon sweater his mum had knit him at Christmas, and a few other items. He dug around until he found his money bag, hidden beneath his dirty underwear (it had been a good idea at the time), and he threw it into his sac. There were a few chocolates in there that he grabbed as well, but he left everything else. He had enough money saved from his venture with the twins, that he would be okay for a week, maybe two. He would work something out, wherever he was at that time. He changed from his hospital garb to whatever he pulled from his trunk, threw his robe on hastily, and secured his bag over his back. He ran to the door and locked it as he heard heavy footsteps thundering up from the common room, knowing that that wouldn't hold them out. He twirled around, panicked, and saw his clean sweep lying on the floor beside his trunk.
"Up!" He commanded and it flew into his hand even though he was a good three meters away. He didn't notice this as there was a sudden banging on his door.
"Ron! Ron open up!" Don't open, don't open, don't open Ron silently pleaded as he hurried to the thin window. How the heck was he going to do this?
"Alohamora!" He heard Lupin yell at the door, and there was no doubt that it was Lupin. The door didn't budge. Ron looked at the window, it would be a tight squeeze, and there was a bloody good reason none of them had ever tried taking joyrides past curfew during their entire stay at Hogwarts. If you didn't manage to get on the broom, you would be scraped off the ground from ten stories below with one of Hagrid's giant shovels.
"Alohomora! Ron! Don't do anything stupid!" Ron looked at the window. He could do this, no problem. He could hear two more people running up the stairs of Gryffindor tower.
"I'm sorry!" He muttered as he smashed the glass with his broom handle and put his right arm through the now open window, holding his broom. He followed with his right leg, sliding through.
"Ron! What was that? Ron!" The other two had joined the werewolf. "Alohomora!" The door burst open under the three wizards strength and Ron threw himself out the window, somehow managing to sit on his broom and push off before they could grab him. It was a windy day, and Ron didn't look back to see the hate and anger on Lupin's face as he took off in the direction of the forbidden forest, flying as fast as his broom would carry him. After a moment of flying through the warm air he risked a glance over his shoulder and saw that two people were trying to catch up to him, but he couldn't see who.
"Come on, move!" He urged the broom to move faster, he was over Hagrid's hut now. A few hundred more meters and he would be able to apparate. He looked behind him, to see Madame Hooch and Professor McGonagall closing in, McGonagall looked livid as she raced to get him. He forced his feelings down and bent forward more, he was almost there now…just a little further…he felt the subtle shift in the atmosphere (one he had never noticed before this last year) as he left the ward of Hogwarts school and, without wasting another second, he apparated.
TBC
Sooo….want to know what happens next? I'm going away for three weeks so you're going to have to wait.
No, I'm kidding. I wouldn't do that to all you terrific people who have been reviewing. It is really encouraging to know that people are reading and enjoying the story! Honestly! You have no idea how much I smile when I read your comments. It makes the effort that much more worth it!
Greenpuff, I hope you have a great vacation! Kamonkey, I would like to answer your question, but that would take away some of the anticipation wouldn't it:P
I will say this however: get ready for some more drama! I like that, action/adventure, angst, emotional turmoil…my friends have informed me that my mind works strangely
NOTE: When I upload Chapter 14 the Title of this story will be "The Chaneller". I'm sorry to change it, but the current title doesn't sit well with me and while the new one isn't fantastic, it's better then this.
Next update: August 12, 2005 -yes, as some of you have noticed I am sort of following a pattern. I need the time to read through the chapter and make sure it still makes sense :)