"This is what?" inquired the man sitting on the chair, his voice gentle, calm and full of knowledge.
Ron remained silent for a few minutes, admiring the room. It was circular, the walls were made out of enormous boulders, nothing similar to the austere white paint that covered the university's walls. Perched on metal rings were various torches and candles of the most painteresque shapes and colours, all of them igniting with a comforting and calid flame. Covering the wall with a colourful ring were situated the pictures of various characters, some of which Ron recognized only mildly. The figures were as steady as they had ever been, silent like the oil portraits they were. Before him was a table, a very simple, wooden table, decorate profusely with the presence of the most unimaginable items. This items, once delighting the wonders of his curiosity by the impossible movements, were now still and steady like the pictures. And on one side, silent, almost depressively, was a bird perch, empty. And to his right, towering before him was a glass cupboard, containing also various items of unknown properties. A ragged old hat called his attention, and a pang of painful nostalgia and sadness filled him upon observing this too lacked the motion if once had.
"This is Hogwarts!" Ron murmured mostly to himself, reaffirming with a quiver of hope in his voice the possibility of such crazy affirmation.
"Exactly, young Weasley!" the man on the rolling chair turned around to face him.
He smiled broadly at the surprised boy, that grin of his that illuminated the darkest corners. His pale eyes glinted with a knowledge and mischief that only belonged to him. Basically, he was an old man, older than anyone can remember, with a long, silver beard to match his equally long, silver hair. Dressed on an intense purple, wizard robes, the old man gazed at the boy with the tender look of a father to a son.
"Professor Dumbledore!" gasped Ron utterly surprised at the presence of the old man…in his very own office.
"Hello to you too!" the man said with a broken chuckle, obvious sign of his old age.
"How…why, what am I doing here? I mean, I was far away at the university, and then…!" Ron began explaining in a rushed voice, accumulating more questions by the second, hushing abruptly when the respectable, old man raised his palm to silent him.
"You were seeking answers, and I brought you here with the last bits of Magick that remain in essence." Professor Dumbledore explained calmly, crossing his fingers and wincing slightly.
"In essence!" Ron was, if more, visibly shocked at the incoherent affirmation.
"Yes, in essence, all Wizards have magick latent inside themselves, but it's a very small amount. Magical creatures bear the greatest fountain of essential magick in the whole world, excluding, that is, our, now gone, spring of magick!" Dumbledore started again with his explanations.
"But the magical creatures are disappearing as well!" Ron snapped pointing out the terrible obvious.
"Ah, the fact that we can no longer hide them from humans doesn't mean they can't fend off by themselves!" the gentle, old man pointed out calmly, and wisely.
"I see, well, I came to get responses! Please, tell me everything I need to know about myself!" Ron snapped eagerly, pulling off the mask to show the fangs and humid, dark nose.
"Ah well, as for what you are, you are an Anthro!" Dumbledore finished his explanation clear and slowly, yet leaving Ron in the same oblivion he was before entering the room.
"Fine!" Ron snapped frustrated, now feeling a shower of questions bombarding his senses until he began feeling numb and confused, "how did I become this thing without magick? Why now?" the boy snapped again, vocalizing his questions as clearly as his shaky voice could.
"First, you did not become anything, you were already like that when you were born!" the professor finished clearly and calmly, speaking in the enigmatic way he was always used, leaving the expectation hanging in the air.
Ron stared at him blankly, all his inquiries vanished abruptly at the crazy remark he had received from the man. Dumbledore, upon seeing the look in his former pupil's eyes, went on.
"The vanishing of magick has a lot to do with it, indeed. I'll explain, the same as there are Methamorphmagus and Squibs, there are sometimes that a Wizard baby is born with animal traits, which is your case. Your specie is as scarce as the Methamorphmagus, or more, and most of the time you will not even get to see them in their true form." Dumbledore explained with a calm voice, letting all the new information sink in before going on.
"Your mother, like many Anthro's mothers, did what was best for you, she hid your animal traits under a powerful and effective charm, and planned on waiting until you were old enough to tell you about your gift!" Dumbledore finished his explanation with a respectful sigh.
"Gift? What gift? This is a curse, I am no human, I have a furry tail, furry ears and a leaky nose which mysteriously became black!" snapped the boy infuriated at the man's remark.
"Ron, nothing is a curse unless you want it to be! You have more agility now, gained in speed, discovered your acute hearing and scent, and that could be a powerful weapon if the case reclaimed it!" Dumbledore pointed out, that glint in his pale eyes becoming more accused.
"Fine!" Ron muttered in a fowl mood, crossing his arms angrily.
"Well, why did your true form got revealed now is simple. When magick began to vanish, the spells conjured did as well!" Dumbledore pointed a significant, nostalgic gaze at the room engulfing them, "And so did your mother's spell, releasing you of the disguise!"
"Oh, just great! Just when I was finally achieving normality!" Ron snapped exasperated at his incoherent situation glaring sideways and clenching his fists tightly.
"As for the vision you saw!" began speaking the wise, old man, smiling at him through that glint of his pale eyes.
"What? How do you know?" inquired Ron, his anger flickered and died, floating away with the wind, his curious eyes looked up inquiringly.
"Ah, the mysteries of magick! Anyways, the thing is it was not just a vision. Likely when your body was changing back, your mind got connected with the world of spirits. Unfortunately, the white spirit you saw is a demon who has arrived to our physical world, and is about to create havoc." Explained Dumbledore, his calm features had suddenly turned grave and worried, his glinting eyes were covered by a murky veil of darkness.
"What? Why me? What am I to do?" snapped Ron, now frustrated at his situation, at the twist the things were taking in such a short lap of time.
"Calm Ron, you don't have to play the hero, however the spirit seems to have chosen you as his main focus, not literally, but will do all he can to hurt those you love!" Dumbledore explained again, more gravely than before and gazing at Ron with a seriousness that told him this man was stronger than he would ever be.
"There is little people left alive that he can hurt, you know?" commented Ron sombrely, looking down sideways, being flooded by the happy, smiling faces of those he once loved with all his might.
"Oh, but there is still someone, right Ronald?" pointed out the man with that mischievous glint of someone who knows much.
Ron gazed down. He knew who Dumbledore was speaking about. But it had been too long since they had any contact at all. They didn't fight or anything, but their enormous loss filled them with an unbearable grief, and they parted away, taking different paths. He thought many times they took the wrong paths, simply because he was the peasant, and she was the studious bookworm. Yes, he knew, and had hoped so many times she was happy and healthy wherever she was.
"Anyways!" continued the old man with a profound sigh, "when you linked with the world of spirits, and returned back to the real world, the connection between your spiritual self and your physical body left a gap in the frontier that divides both words. It was small, but the spirit escaped through it and emerged into our world!" Dumbledore finished, shaking his head lastimously.
"But how do you know all that?" snapped Ron, his ridiculous question in such an exaggeratedly exasperated voice was basically a cover to hide the truth that loomed in the corner of his mind.
"You will understand soon enough Ron, it's not good revealing all the fun on the first encounter, now is it?" commented the old man, smiling delighted and gazing at the young boy through noble eyes.
Ron simply gazed at him with disbelief. He could not understand why he was being held away from so many truths, after all, he was no longer a child, and was no longer frightened of darkness, not after all the terror he had seen.
"That means we will meet again?" commented Ron mostly due to the fact that he was at a loss for words.
"Ah, well, we have met again, and I'm sure you never thought you'd see me again, now did you?" explained the man hopefully, smiling at the boy through his intelligent eyes.
"No!" Ron admitted truthfully, hence lowering his head in shame.
"Now go!" Dumbledore urged the boy, looking at the magical door that had been conjured to permit the long interview.
Ron turned to look at the door, which had began to flicker dangerously, loosing its strength and magick. It would vanish in brief instants, leaving him trapped in Hogwarts. It would not have been a terrible situation, and deep inside him Ron had hoped Dumbledore would inst him to stay. Deceived slightly, that had not occurred, hence deduced the wise old man always did things with a good reason. With such personal argument Ron raced towards the door, and was about to cross it when he stopped, suddenly conditioned by a sharp question that attacked him on the last instant.
"Professor!" began the boy turning his head to face the man, "Who was the cloaked figure that helped me at the park?" Ron inquired deducing that this should be a fact that his professor knew.
"Who?" inquired Dumbledore arching his eyebrows bewildered.
Confusion filled the boy upon analyzing the truthful features representing Dumbledore's real oblivion. There was something the old man ignored, and that would have him occupied for long moments. Ron, deceived by the response, turned around and vanished through the door, appearing back in his college.
The three horses were ready in just a few minutes, hence the skills and constant practice as caretaker of the beasts. Saletta was a beautiful andalusian, her high spirits beings demonstrated in the constant and nervous tossing of her head, and the eager stomping of the delicate, slender hooves. She was knowing in the stables as the Blue Doe, hence her elegant and slender figure, the thin, strong legs, and the incredible agility made her seem like a magnificent stag. Her coat glistened in the twilight in a deep, shady blue colour, splashed everywhere with drops of pale white or silver. Her appereance was of a horse who had been covered in ashes and was caught in the fresh, morning rain.
Balkan, on the other hand, was the contrary from the beautiful mare. He was not envious of her beauty, for he had one impressive structure and image that was far more stunning than the mare's. He was a Friesian, and wild horse from the celts. Larger in height and far thicker, his strong and fibrous muscles rippled under a thick coat of blazing, black fur. His enormous hooves were covered in threads of long, black hair that fell upon them like a cascade. The thick head was engraved with a pair of black, intelligent eyes which gazed at the forest with a defiant, valiant gaze as well as one filled of tremor and unease towards the darkness that lingered inside.
Bankara, Ginny's favourite, was a nervous pureblood. Her coat was a deep brown, hence it was cared and glossy, sparkling into a flaming colour under the fresh light, matching closely to Ginny's own igniting head. Being basically a colt, and the smallest in size, she was also the quickest of all three, having been born in a hippodrome from a mother who had been a champion brought to nothing. Her youth sparkled in the glitter that shone deep in her brown eyes, the same defiant gaze as the one sent by the powerful Balkan. However, this time her call was not of courage, instead she just wanted to prove to herself that she could outrun the evil germinating inside the woodlands.
"Take care of Whisper, heal his leg and leave him in his box, NO efforts! His ankle is in pretty bad conditions!" ordered Hermione severely, holding the reins tightly and leaping up the saddle with accustomed agility.
Neville lowered his head submissively, and nodded, giving Saletta an affective pat on the neck. The mare shook nervously upon feeling the weight, and neighed with a slight fear blooming within her instinctive senses. Hermione leaned forward lightly, holding the reins tightly with one hand, and patting the mare on the left side of the neck, attempting to calm her. She never knew why the horses always had such a reaction towards her, but every time she mounted even the tamest one for the first time, it would always try to throw her off its back.
"Lets go then!" Hermione bellowed at the other two girls.
The former witch pushed her right leg slightly further behind, while she lowered the right rein gently. In such position her feet pressed against the mare's sides tightly while she purred lightly to make her more uneasy. The animal stood on her hind legs for various seconds, then leapt forward into a wild gallop. Balkan mounted expertly by the hazy Luna followed with a much heavier step, agile and elegant still. Bankara galloped as soon as Saletta stood off, shaking Ginny on her chair and making her stumble lightly at the eagerness of the creature. The Weasley girl pulled on the right rein with short, dry touches, making the colt calm down slightly and easier to control. This was no race, and no fun on the woodlands, and by no means she wanted to pass Hermione and make the two riders have a hard time controlling their horses.
The three creatures crossed the meadow and penetrated the woodlands with the energy only this magnificent equines could posses. Neville watched the trio retreat, his heart was heavy and his mind was a whirlpool of contradictory thoughts. He wanted to be of help, but his gone youth and his experience in the terrible war had not seemed to make him much more skilful. He always observed Ginny and Luna with a hint of sane jealousy, wanting to encounter himself in the body of the red haired, or even into the passive skills of the loony being.
With a profound, nostalgic sigh, he turned his back towards the forest and walked off to the place where the white stallion had been found, wounded yet valiantly standing. He shook his head furiously, even a horse was far more useful than he was, being able to gallop all the way here, limp and immersed in a terrible pain. He had not had time to examine his hoof and ankle, but it was most probably broken and had a bad healing. It was not in them sacrificing horses because they had broken legs, but they knew this animal would never be able to be submitted to much effort any more.
Upon reaching the site, Neville gasped loudly. The horse was gone.
Ron walked out of the office feeling perplexed and very confused. He had figured out half of his problem, but upon realizing what he was, a cascade of innumerable questions fell upon him with the strength of a landslide. He had suddenly activated inquiries he ignored he could have, being his nature always so passive and uninterested.
"That was before!" Ron argued with himself shaking his head sadly, almost frustrated, and feeling a knot in the pit of his stomach, "that was the old Ron, the one before all that miserable event!" his thoughts faded at this point, making him clench his hands into tight fists.
The boy felt a hand pulling something over his nose. He hadn't even realized it, but his mask had been pulled down upon entering the office, revealing his animal traits. His vision, although his chestnut eyes had been open, was gazing into the past, into a time long gone, and into the had been, and the what could had been. He focused his vision, blurry for brief seconds of time, and adjusted himself to the person before him by taking a step back in order to see the shorter creature clearly.
"Marietta!" he gasped, ignoring whether he was amazed, deceived or angered at the girl, or maybe all three at once.
"You better be more careful with that!" she pointed out in a low whisper, looking around at the empty corridor for passerbys and possible hearing ears.
"What are you doing here?" inquired the boy now deciding he was startled at her presence.
"I was looking for you, Ron, I wanted to explain everything!" she said in a dashed voice, as if the message was too urgent and too secret to be revealed later or close to anyone who could eavesdrop on them.
"What for?" Ron snapped harshly, letting his anger and his spirits emerge for some instants.
"Look!" Marietta began recoiling slightly at the hint of fury released by the boy, "I don't know what happened to you, but I believe it has something to do with what happened to Magic and all." She commented calmly, regaining her integrity.
"Oh, really? I would have never guessed!" Ron said sarcastically staring at the girl with mischievous eyes.
"I didn't back you up at the examination hall, and I wanted to apologize for my actions, and also explain why I did what I did." The girl began staring at the boy defiantly.
"Go on!" Ron said feeling suddenly very stupid and very guilty.
"What happened so many years ago was terrible for me, and for everyone in the world. I still relive those days in my nightmares, and wake up wet in cold sweat, seeking my want and ready to cast a curse at anyone who approaches me. I killed people, maybe they deserved it, but I was seventeen at the time, and my child hands were stained with blood." Marietta's voice broke into desperation, her sharp features emphasizing the terror and the pain that still pursued her.
"I know!" Ron said lowering his head, understanding her for this dreams, and the sticky sensation of being covered in the crimson fluid of enemies killed by his own hands also sneaked behind the shadows of his dreams.
"I really appreciate you Ron, you are one of the few remaining links I have with the Wizardring World, and I had wonderful times at Hogwarts. But Ron, all that is gone! My wand and yours is fading day after day, Hogwarts is abandoned, magic disappears and the survivors go on with their lives, with new lives. That is what I am trying to do, Ron, forge my own future as a muggle, and keep only the precious moments that marked my life for good." Marietta finished, her voice had broken, and her face glowed with the torrent of tears which flowed down his cheeks, staining his face with a glittering film.
"I…I know Marietta, I'm sorry!" Ron felt terrible for making this to the last remaints of his past, "I just needed help, I'm suddenly alone with some problem I can't understand fully, and I guess you were the only one I could rely on right now, the one who was closest to magic!" Ron apologized greatly, letting all his frustration pour.
"Ron, we can be good friends, and I will always talk with you. Remember the old times will be fine!" Marietta grinned at this remark, brightening her face lightly, "but Ron, always here, in this world, in the only world that exists now, ok? No more magic and no more tricks! I want to be normal to the eyes of people here, I want to lead a normal life!" Marietta finished, staring at the boy seriously, and making him understand her desires.
Ron nodded, but pronounced no word. He understood her desired due to the fact that he had also desired the same, and had lead her life, hence much more immersed in the anonymities. With that, Marietta retreated and vanished upon turning a corner. He allowed some time to pass since her departure, then walked away as well.
The three beings stomped on the ground, tearing it with their powerful hooves, lifting the soils and penetrating the moss with the sharp edges. They did nothing but destroy and renew the carpet of greens and mud, following the destruction of one of their mates. Hermione had followed one of the principal paths and had found nothing out of the ordinary, except several old prints. She deduced immediately that the girl had been careful and patient with the horse, keeping him always at a light pace. Soon however, she had found like a slight struggle, as if the animal or the rider was confused, and didn't know with way to go. It also seemed as if the decision had to be taken rapidly. Then the trail began.
A being groaned in the depths of the forest, feeling weak, feeling battered as of someone had decided to beat it up into a bloody pulp. The body was, however, in perfect conditions, completely nude however. Every single inch ached as if numerous needles of fire were going through the pale skin, always coming in and out, moving back and forth inside the milky veil, releasing a sharper and more unbearable pain. It heard the sound of horses approaching and retreated under the cover and protection of some thick bushes. It had thorns but under such terrible suffering, it mattered little to the creature. The three animals passed by, ignoring the presence, but the life hiding could see the three riders properly.
"Ginny!" it gasped in a hoarse, broken and tired voice.
Hermione sat back on her saddle, then pulled on the reins several times with strong and dry pulls. Saletta came to a full halt and neighed rather wildly, as if disagreeing with the decision her rider had taken. The other two horses also stopped close to the leading mare. All three riders hopped off with natural and expert ability. The horses, released from the comforting weight that supposed their confidence, tossed their heads and snorted nervously. They scented something foul, something dangerous, it was rancid and metallic, it was the fearsome scent of blood.
"Stay with the horses Luna, keep them calm, we don't want to be thrown here in the middle of nowhere!" Hermione told her, she tried to be strong and calm, but she was shaky and nervous.
Said that, and receiving the affirmative nod of the woman, Hermione walked forward, followed closely by Ginny. Her legs were wobbly like jelly, her face drained of all colour, pale like a ghost, and her mind a mantra desiring only the best that could be decided in those cases. Hermione and Ginny leapt over a log to encounter the terrible vision, basically nothing they could have expected, and definitely nothing like they had ever seen, which had been much unfortunately. Ginny, upon seeing the state of the girl, attempted to emit some sort of yelp hence her voice had been stolen, faded from her throat at the terrible shock.
Lavender was face to ground, or so they thought since it was hard to determine whether that was her face or the back of her head. She had been literally massacred. Her body was stained in the largest amount of blood Hermione had ever seen. It had marks of claws, and bites of enormous fangs, and it seemed as if the being that had caught sight of her decided to release all the contained fury over her.
"This was not an animal!" Ginny said finally upon finding her voice.
"What?" gasped Hermione snapping out of her ecstasy by the familiar voice reaching her through the tense silence of the forest.
"No animal would ever attack with such cruelty, with such vice! Only humans do such things!" Ginny exclaimed with the anger and fury of the Weasleys igniting within her heart and blood.
"Let's cover her with the quilt, we will take her to the castle and give her the funeral she deserves!" Hermione was not to enter in an argument about their friend being attacked by a predator or a human, and let Ginny know by the dry tone of her voice.
Said that, Ginny gave in to the sadness and broke into tears. Lavender had grown to be solitary, always in the company of her beloved horse, but they had maintained long, refreshing conversations about nothing at all, only delighting themselves in each other's company. They soon became good friends, and soon became the pillar of the other to keep standing, to get through the pain of their catastrophe more easily. Hermione saw her, and would have embraced her, but her very own doubts, her sadness and the shadows of her mind paralyzed her. She patted Ginny's shoulder, and proceeded to do the work by herself, not wanting to give Ginny more suffering. Sure, she also had her own deal of pain, but had grown to the strong, protective type, more than weeping over the terrors that attacked her nightmares.
Ron opened the door of his small apartment and entered. He sighed with relief and got rid of the coat, the hat and the mask as if he had bees inside them. He was boiling, the coat was black and absorbed the heat, and they were nearly in summer. It was a relief to let the air cool his tan skin and his furry tail, hence his delight was not to last long. There, in his very own house, was the most unlike vision he would have ever expected.
To Be Continued…
AN: Ok, very LONG chappy, and took me longer to finish cuz I've been a week at Edimburgh. Anyways, I like the way it is turning, and I have a surprise for the end, a surprise for the middle, and a surprise for the middle end. Can you find out what has Ron found in his apartment? Try to guess, and find out the answer in the next chapter. Please, review, makes me happy to see what people think.