*Reminder: The POV's are bias and there are background happenings that I don't include as the focus is the first years :)*
*Warning: This chapter ends on a cliffhanger*
Chapter: When the heart gets hurt...
When they finally made it back to their house dorm, Dean, Seamus, Parvati, and Lavender felt a little less tense. The trio, Neville and Percy continued towards the dorms, but they decided to remain in the common room.
"Does anyone else feel like today was just too crazy to be real?" Seamus questioned with a bewildered toss of his head. Parvati raised her hand while Lavender scoffed.
"Crazy? Try chaotic! It's as if we lived a day in one of Lucilla Grace's novels."
Parvati and Seamus hummed in agreement while Dean remained confused.
"Lucilla who?"
"Popular witch novelist. Mum loves her books." Parvati explained.
They were about to move their discussion over to the sofa's when the entrance swung open once more. The Weasley twins were quietly muttering to one another, but it was the dark and unpleasant expressions they wore that unnerved the first years. It was their first time seeing the twins without their usual mischievous smirks and grins; grins that quickly reappeared the second they noticed their audience.
"What's this? A welcoming committee?" George started.
"Where's Percy then? Hovering to give us a spook after tonight's crazy events?" Fred added.
"He's upstairs with the others, dealing with Potter," Parvati answered with a shake of her head.
The twins shared a glance before George asked her to elaborate. Their reluctance must have been obvious as Fred playfully tugged at Lavender's hair and charmingly prompted her to answer.
"Come on, it's only us," he cajoles.
Lavender looked to Dean, both considering if they should. On one hand, they were Ron's brothers and would eventually find out regardless. On the other, this was about Potter and… well… Harry, for all his dramatic ways, was quite private about his business. Dean and Lavender mutually made the silent decision not to say anything at all. If the twins wished to know more, they could talk to Ron, Percy, or Harry themselves.
"You won't be hearing anything from any of us," she announced decisively.
Behind her, Seamus, and Parvati nodded in agreement while Dean shrugged as if to say 'whelp, what can you do'. Fred and George blink with mild surprise, not expecting their refusal. Could whatever have happened really been that bad? Several stomping footsteps can be heard, and they all turn to see Hermione storm her way down with Ron and Neville following behind her. The bushy haired girl was lost in a furious rant about minor protection laws and the respect owed to those in mourning. Ron in contrast looked disturbingly absent in mind, reminiscent of a marble stoned statue.
"Psst, Nev, what happened?" Seamus whispered as the other first years crowded the plump boy.
Neville kept a wary eye on Hermione and her knife waving ranting as he replied.
"Percy sent us down so he could have a private chat with Harry."
Hermione gave a particularly loud cry of frustration and threw her dinner knife towards the floor. It struck the wood with a threatening thump and stuck upwards. Seamus muffled his yelp of shock while Parvati and Lavender jumped.
"Although, to be honest, I think he sent us out because Hermione was getting to be a bit much," Neville added with a wince.
"What about Ron?" Dean asked with a frown.
All of them looked towards the red-haired younger boy silently standing by the stairs. One of the twins was quietly speaking to him but Ron didn't appear to react to him at all.
"Is he okay?" Lavender questioned.
All of them stared as one of the twins spoke to the quiet younger boy. They hadn't realized how expressive Ron was until he suddenly wasn't expressing anything at all. It was wrong, seeing the usually grumpy boy completely blank without emotion.
Lavender noticed the short stare shared between the twins and was suddenly reminded of her mother's cautionary tales about the Prewett family. The Weasley's might have lost their respectability among the sacred 28 but Molly Weasley was a Prewett before her marriage. A family who had been notorious for Mother magic's favour in the form of twins. As George herded them into a group and started teasing Hermione down from her furious tantrum, Lavender watched Fred lead Ron towards the dorms. She wondered how many of her mother's tales were true.
~(*)\(*)/(*)~
They were floating, somewhere beyond gravity; weightless and transparent, a ghost anchored to a cage they could no longer sense.
Come back…
Someone was calling for them.
Ron, come back to me….
Ron? A name of importance to them.
Who could they be?
Why did this Ron sound so important?
Ronnie, I'm here… come back to me….
Ronnie? Is that- Are they this Ronnie?
They could feel pressure guiding and leading them towards somewhere, someplace. Step by step, drop by drop, they felt gravity's pull call to them once more. They remembered then, Ron- Ronnie was the name of their cage.
Go back.
A different voice spoke to them, somewhere from within.
You're making him worry. You need to go back.
Go back? How could they go back when they could not remember where and who they are?
You know who you are.
They do?
What is your name?
It was strange how suddenly they knew the answer. Ronald Billius Weasley. They-no HE is Ronald Billius Weasley.
Good. Who are you?
He is- He is Ron Weasley the sixth child of seven.
*ba-dump* *ba-dump* *ba-dump*
Again, what is your name?
Ronald Billius Weasley.
Who are you?
I am the youngest son of seven siblings.
*ba-dump* *ba-dump* *ba-dump* *ba-dump*
He was sinking, like an anchor dropped at sea, deeper and deeper into an ocean of memory. All around him was red, red, red. He hated the colour. Above him a sky of green, beneath him a ship of brown, around him a sea of red. The rumbling roar of thunder and lightning, a storm in the distance with a lone rock in the centre. A cage within a cage.
Who are you?
He is Ronald Weasley, a patient boy whose brother called him home.
~(*)\(*)/(*)~
Ron was groggily aware of the thumping beat beneath his ear and the muttered rambles in the other. The fog in his mind lingered but the weight of his exhaustion kept him from floating again. He groaned and fought to adjust to feeling his limbs once more. Whoever held him noticed his movement immediately and quickly held him tighter. With a little more concentrated effort, Ron easily recognised whose arms he was trapped in.
"…Eddy?" he groaned.
"Back with me Ronniekins?" Fred teased, but his words lacked its usual joking tone and was far too soft.
Ron immediately tried to push himself out of Fred's arms, but the older boy tightened his grip. The younger was tired, heavy with exhaustion, but continued to fight the older boy's capture.
"Fred, let me go," Ron grunted and huffed.
Fred chuckled and pulled at the longer strands of Ron's hair.
"What happened to Eddy?"
While his ears burned hotly with embarrassment, Fred's laughter grew louder.
"Now, now no need to be shy, your big brother's only teasing."
"I'm not shy!" Ron argued but his protest went ignored.
Resigned to his brother's antics, Ron relaxed into Fred's hug. It didn't take long for the feeling of safety and comfort to consume him and therefore make him drowsy. He was seconds away from falling asleep when Fred broke the comfortable silence between them.
"It's been awhile…."
Ron immediately tensed, his breath hitching with anxious dread. Fred was not George, and he was no Percy, Bill, or Charlie. Out of all his brothers, Ron could never evade Fred's casual questions or careless inquires. Telling Fred anything was dangerous, far more dangerous than telling any of his older brothers, but it was useless to hide anything from him too. Not when Fred knew his signs, symptoms, and moods. It is in this sense the twins were incredibly different. While George was the kind to think first then act, Fred was the opposite.
Ron and Fred were far too similar in the worst ways, which is why Ron knew he needed to be careful with how he responded.
"I was angry," he admitted, relaxing into Fred's hold once more.
"More than angry it would seem, you haven't been this angry in a long while. Do you know the trigger?"
The casualty of Fred's tone, the nonchalant way he continued to soothe Ron was the calm before the storm. Ron huffed and tucked his head further under Fred's neck. It was only a little awkward, as he wasn't as small as he used to be, but comfortable enough. Fred inwardly dreaded the day Ron outgrew him and he could no longer comfort his little brother this way.
Ron talks about his classes and the ridiculous fight between Lavender and Hermione.
"You know, there's seriously something wrong with Granger," Fred wryly commented.
Ron lightly socked Fred in the arm with a scowl, peering through his hair as he did.
"She's just awkward," he defended.
Fred quirked a dubious brow at Ron in obvious disagreement.
"Ronnie, she's a tantrum away from ending up in Azkaban."
Ron shrugged, neither denying nor agreeing with Fred's assessment. Fred sighed and rested his chin on top of Ron's head.
"I just don't understand how or why you got attached to the two weirdest possible first years to exist."
While he wasn't exactly saying as such, Ron knew Fred wasn't fond of Harry or Hermione. He supposed they would seem rather strange to the rest of Hogwarts, but that's because none of them understood them the way he did. Ron can't explain how or why he cared so much about Harry and Hermione, only that he did. It felt right, like missing pieces he'd subconsciously been missing had finally returned to him.
"They're my friends, Fred."
Ron's tone was final and for all Fred's mocking and stubbornness, he would never fight Ron over something he's clearly set on. With a sulky grunt, Fred changed the topic to the events of tonight.
"Do you think the troll might have added to your trigger?"
Ron reflected on the feast and knew that he'd felt off before Quirrell came in about the troll. It was the mess around Harry that pushed him over the edge. But he knew better than to tell Fred that, least he encourage his brother to think worse of his friends.
"Maybe…" he shrugged.
Fred sighed, recognizing Ron's reluctance with practiced ease. He knew he wouldn't be able to get anything else from Ron without upsetting him, which is the last thing he wanted to do. He pulled back and stared at Ron with Bill's 'I'm-being-completely-serious' face, ensuring there was no misreading of his intention.
"I don't want you letting it build up again, do you hear me, Ronald?"
There was no joking laughter in Fred's eyes or a hint of mischief on his face. Fred was being completely and utterly serious. Ron scowled and glared at the bed, avoiding Fred's gaze.
"Oi, look at me Ronnie."
Fred waited and when Ron finally lifted his head to meet Fred's eyes once again, the older boy repeated himself.
"I know you can handle yourself for the most part, but the moment you suspect it's getting out of hand, you find one of us."
Ron nodded but Fred wanted to hear him agree and stared intently until Ron gave it.
"Yeah, I get it okay," he growled.
Fred relaxed but didn't let go of Ron, instead he pulled him closer, wanting to cuddle his little brother a little while longer.
"I know you don't like making us worry, but that's what family does you little grump."
Ron huffed but relaxed into the hug. The two brothers' remained that way, enjoying each other's company without a care in the world. They discussed and brainstormed new ideas for the twins joke shop and Fred taught Ron what he knew about accounting and economics. While explaining the complexity of their latest product, Fred looked down and was surprised to find Ron had fallen asleep.
Like this, Fred was reminded of when they were children.
While the memory was slightly fuzzy, Fred never forgot that he was Ron's first word. Not Bill or Charlie, or even their mum or dad, him. It was the one thing he could never share with George; one he was glad he didn't have to.
Ron was nearing his first birthday when it happened. It was a struggle for everyone in the house to get through a night without hearing him roar. The healers had said it was just a particularly bad case of colic and would go away eventually. They suggested silencing charms and monitors to help everyone get through the night. But none of the Weasley's felt right to basically mute their youngest.
Fred can't exactly remember why, but that night he'd gotten angry with Ron's crying. It might have been his mum's tears or his dad's exhaustion. Maybe it was Bill, Charlie and Percy's constant anxiety, stress, and worry? Whatever the reason, he'd had enough and had stormed towards Ron's crib to make him stop. George had been trying to stop him, but Fred was determined.
It was the first time the twins had been divided. While they'd argued, they'd not noticed Ron's roaring cries settle into whimpers. Not until Bill burst into the room with his eyes wide and frantic. Behind Bill came the rest of the family, all of them terrified. Fred was perhaps two seconds away from getting a spanking from his mum after he'd confessed his intentions, when the warbling whimper of a name was heard.
" Ed…gr…Eddy…*hic*…."
They'd all been shocked stupid, but eventually got their wits together to celebrate. But Ron continued to warble and cry, repeating himself until it became a roaring tantrum instead. They'd assumed he'd wanted his teddy bear, but he only grew louder whenever they tried to give it to him. Fred remembered growing angry again and stomped towards the crib once more to make him stop.
"EDDY!" Ron had cried, as his chubby arms reached for him.
From that day on, Fred became Ron's 'Eddy and spent many nights cuddling his baby brother till he would grow calm.
Fred snapped out of his reminiscent musing when George softly knocked and entered their dorm. The jealousy on his face had long lost its sincerity, the expression used more playfully now compared to before. George scoffed out a chuckle at seeing Ron's drool stain Fred's uniform, and lightly stroked the younger boys head.
"He's growing like a weed. You know one day you're going to try and cuddle him and he'll completely tower over you."
Fred shrugged, not worried in the slightest. It wouldn't matter if they were old men in wheelchairs. So long as he lived, he would never stop giving his baby brother cuddle hugs. George laughed again and annoyingly poked at his chin.
"The first years have all trooped off to bed. Best get this one to join the others or risk Granger and Potter going into another fit come morning."
Fred scoffed at the mention of Ron's friends, annoyed that the two have become so important to his baby brother he'd worried himself into an episode. George poked at his chin again, but with more pressure and a warning glare.
"Get over it, Fred."
But he couldn't. Not when Potter and Granger clearly didn't deserve his baby brother in the slightest. They didn't appreciate him at all, and he was doubtful they ever would. Granger and Potter were completely hopeless and if not for Ron's friendship with them, Fred's certain the two would have been ostracised by the rest of Hogwarts without care. Boy-who-lived or not, nobody cared if they couldn't get something in return. It's how wizards and witches were, greedy and self-absorbed, obsessed with their need to prove whose favoured more by Mother Magic.
"If all you're going to do is brood, I'm going to take our baby brother to bed," George sighed with a roll of his eyes.
As George lifted Ron, who was not at all as light as he used to be, he took his time walking. George knew that this year would not at all be like the previous years. The year had barely even started, and the Hogwarts Houses were caught up in a cold war, the first since the year 1938. Percy was stretching himself thin and George had a feeling he was going to need Oliver to intervene soon or risk Percy exhausting himself into the hospital wing. On top of that, Fred was clearly on the verge of a blood hunt, especially after tonight. As Ron grunted out a snore and shifted in his hold, George let out another tired sigh.
Then there was Ron and his terrible choice of friends.
He knew there was no chance of persuading their little Ronnie to ditch the weirdoes. Not after tonight. After tucking Ron into his bed, George checked all the first-year boys were in bed, his eyes lingered on Potter's sleeping self. No, he really couldn't see the appeal or understand what was so special about Potter, but Ron's mind was made.
George smirked, a dark menacing smirk that sat unpleasantly on his lips.
While they might not be able to change Ron's mind, they could certainly stress to Granger and Potter how precious they consider their little Ronnie to be. Granger and Potter needed to understand how lucky they were to have Ron in their lives, and George was eager to put them to the test.
George whistled as he returned to his dorm, his mind brimming with ideas and wicked schemes.
~(*)\(*)/(*)~
By Tuesday, Harry was still in a mood. One that was slowly getting to the rest of the first years. The boy-who-lived was too much of an off-putting downer and no one knew how to snap him out of it.
"That's it! I've had enough of his woe-is-me sulking!" Lavender exclaimed.
The first years were waiting to walk to lunch together. Professor McGonagall requested a word with Harry, so Neville and Ron decided to wait for him inside while the others hovered in the corridors. Hermione glared at Lavender and folded her arms, annoyed that for once she and Lavender agreed on something.
"He forgot his parent's death anniversary, Lavender," Parvati softly defended, but she too sounded tired of the depressive cloud Harry brought with him wherever he went.
"He didn't even know them," Seamus callously pointed out.
Dean was quick to knock the Irish boy on the head and give a stern glare towards Lavender.
"He's grieving Lavender, and you can mourn loved ones you never knew Seamus," he scolded with a scowl.
Seamus and Lavender huffed but said nothing else. Dean thought that would be the end of it, but Hermione surprised him by speaking up. She rarely ever spoke to any of them when Neville, Ron or Harry weren't around. But it spoke volumes of how exhausted everyone felt towards tiptoeing around Potter's moods.
"Hopefully stage five doesn't last any longer and he moves onto stage six soon enough," she grumbled.
Dean tried not to gape at the girl. When the others made various signs of agreement, Dean gaped at them with disappointment.
"What the bloody hell is wrong with you lot? Harry lost his parents, he never got to know them! They were murdered and rather than respecting their unwilling separation from their son, the wizarding world chose to celebrate him for being an orphan!"
He watched their faces twist with guilt and apology, but Dean couldn't help the disappointment he felt towards them. Yes, Potter was exhausting with his current gloom and doom outlook on life. Yes, Dean too felt like shaking the boy till he snapped out of his self-absorbed wallowing.
From what he'd come to understand about Harry, he had a habit of caring deeply about things he often couldn't change. Harry was passionate, if overly dramatic, because he cared; Forgetting the anniversary of his parents death was obviously tormenting him, because why? How could he forget something so important? Did it mean he didn't care about them at all?
As Dean' shared his thoughts with the others, their heads tilted lower with guilt and shame. Dean sighed and shook his head, letting the silence among them grow. It only broke when Hermione once again spoke.
"I-….We didn't mean it like that. It's just…He won't talk about it with any of us. It doesn't help that Ron keeps making excuses for him, either."
Dean frowned, for the first time he and Hermione were on the same thought train. Ron was another concern they all shared but were unwilling to openly discuss. Ron had been acting strange before the mess with Harry, but with two out of the three weirdoes becoming worrisome, Dean was suspicious something else was going on. Ron was well known, being a Weasley brother and all, he was also extremely friendly. He was often busy, always late to things or looking frazzled because he'd been helping one of his brother's friends with some matter or another.
But neither Percy, Fred nor George would ever allow him to be waylaid by their acquaintances as many times as he'd been claiming. Considering the House Politics, and the few arguments they'd overheard between the brothers, Ron was supposed to be far away from all that nonsense.
Dean wouldn't claim he knew Hermione enough to share silent meaningful conversations through expressions alone, but the girl obviously theorised something like his own suspicions. Before more could be said or brought to attention, Neville, Ron, and Harry joined them.
"Oh, you waited?" Neville exclaimed with visible surprise.
Before more could be said, Ron loudly groaned and guided Harry forward, conveniently shielding him from the others as he did.
"Bloody hell, I'm starved. Come on then, don't want to miss lunch. Wonder what they cooked up for today?"
As the group of Gryffindor first years made their way to the great hall, Dean couldn't ignore the uncomfortable gut feeling he had. The longer he listened and watched Ron casually speak and move, the more evidence he gained. A glance towards Hermione showed she too had already noticed and believed whatever theory she had to be true.
Ron was laughing as he bit into a bread roll and cajoled Harry into eating more than his soup.
Dean hated that Hermione Granger had a reputation for being right. For this matter, he desperately hoped she was wrong.
~(*)\(*)/(*)~
Upon later reflection, Ron would figure this is where he messed up.
He was aware that somehow the twins had a way of knowing exactly where he was and who he was with. A revelation he had sometime during his third week at Hogwarts. Besides being extremely annoying, it gave him severe paranoia. This wasn't something he wanted the twins discovering or suspecting in anyway. Only an idiot would directly ask how they managed it, and Ron was no idiot.
But it's been two months of careful movement and paranoid checking around corners. Ron was no Hermione and being constantly on edge while trying to be a good friend was exhausting. He'd known something would have to give, whether it be his tolerance, temper, or his guard.
If only it had been his temper, things would have been so much easier.
Ron had stayed behind after charms to discuss his recent essay with Professor Flitwick. Despite the others offer to wait, he urged them to go on when he realised it would take a while. He was tired, exhausted from another late night of chatting with Harry and their quick revision for Potions. So tired, he forgot he was sticking close to Harry for a reason other than comforting him about his parents.
"Goodness, I've seemed to have kept you for longer then I meant. Well, off you go then Mr Weasley, please keep in mind that my office is always open if you wish to further discuss your spell theory for the freezing charm. Not a lot of first years wonder about the finer details or logistical elements, nor the danger it poses when overpowered."
Ron gave a tight-lipped smile and quickly took his leave. Professor Flitwick had kept him back for nearly an hour and he knew Harry and the others would probably be wondering where he was. He relaxed his guard for a minute, only a minute, but a minute was all they needed.
"Petrificus Totalus"
He feels his entire body grow stiff from one second to the next. He tips forward but can't feel the knock of his head against the stairs, not when he's been cursed. He's trapped, unable to move any part of his body, bound stiff by magic. He is a ghost trapped in a flesh cage he can no longer feel.
"You're a sneaky one, but everyone needs a moment to rest…." His attacker grumbles.
Ron can't make sense of their voice and knows they are disguising themselves. Whoever they are must have been watching him for far longer than he assumed. They move him, carefully covering his eyes with a dark cloak. Ron can't see anything and what he hears is muffled breathing, light footsteps but nothing else.
They had to have used a disillusion spell or something similar so they wouldn't be noticed. Why else would no one find whoever it is suspicious as they cart him away. Ron's mind works quickly, focussed on memorising what little he can about his situation. It was a better alternative than giving in to the panic attack attempting to drown him.
There's a click of a lock, a creak of a door, before he's placed down on the ground once more. They say something else, but Ron's no longer in control. The door creaks once more and he hears the click of the lock and the muffled mumble of a few more spells.
They leave Ron alone, locked away and trapped.
~(*)\(*)/(*)~
The sky is green, the sea around him is red, red, red. The raging storm in the distance grows closer and he is sinking. There is a hole in his ship, the damaged wood fills slowly with red. He should be frightened, terrified of sinking deeper into the red ocean beneath him. He knows he will drown, that swimming in this ocean of memory will kill him.
But he does not care.
The rumbling roar of lightning and thunder call him home and Ron smiles with bliss.
He will rest on the lone rock in the middle of the storm.
He will wait.
For he is Merciful and Patient.
~(*)\(*)/(*)~
Up in Gryffindor tower, the first years sit restlessly. None more than Harry who paces the floor back and forth, his face twisted with anxiety and slow growing anger. Hermione hasn't flipped a page of her book for the past thirty minutes, her eyes trained on the entrance. The others are scattered across the common room, fidgeting in their own ways, nervously glancing between the entrance and the boy-who-lived.
"Right! That's it, I'm going to look for him," Harry declares, his lips are pursed tightly, and his wand gripped tightly in hand.
"Lee said for us to stay here!" Seamus protested and for once, he didn't cower under Harry's poison green glare.
"Ron said he'd be back three hours ago! We don't even know why Lee told us to stay. I'm not going to sit here when Ron could be who knows where!" Harry snapped.
"What if another troll has been let loose in the castle?" Parvati reasoned with a shake of her head.
Harry didn't hesitate to answer her with a stubborn look on his face.
"I don't care. I'm going to find Ron. Something's happened! Ron wouldn't tell us one thing and then not do it. It's not like him!"
The first years share a look, unaware of the silent conversation being exchanged between Hermione and Dean. Harry shakes his head, unwilling to waste any more time debating about staying or leaving.
"I'm going to find Ron, the rest of you can wait here if you're that worried about Lee."
His tone sounds accusing, and it riles up the others within seconds. If not for Dean's interference Lavender or Seamus might have already jumped to clobber Harry in the face.
"If we're going, we need to split up. Lavender, Seamus, and Parvati can stay here just in case Ron turns up or Lee or the Weasley brothers comes to check on us. They can fill them in on where we went."
The three readily nod, but their irritation is still visibly clear. Dean turns his stern glare towards Harry and firmly continues to give instructions.
"The rest of us will start searching from the Charms classroom and we'll meet back here thirty minutes before curfew."
Agreeing to Dean's plan, the first years quickly split ways and begin their search for Ron.
"Dean, what if there is a troll?" Neville anxiously whispered as they made their way to the staircase.
Dean kept a wary eye on Harry and Hermione quietly talking a few ways ahead of them. The bushy haired girl and spectacles wearing boy seemed to be arguing. Dean had a terrible feeling that when they did find Ron, things would only get worse before they'd get better.
"Honestly, Neville, I'd rather face a troll than the Weasley brothers if Ron's not found soon. Wouldn't you?"
Neville swallowed after visibly paling before the two boys ran to begin their search.
~(*)\(*)/(*)~
The thing about the Full body-bind curse, is that it's only meant to be temporary. If he hadn't liked being cursed from behind, he sure as hell hated the slow fading of its effects. Nobody has ever described or listed how it feels when the spell wears off naturally. All his joints feel swollen, his muscles ache from being forced into a stiff position for so long. Trying to stretch his joints is painful, it's as if he's on fire from within.
He can't move anything except for his eyes. The worst is how hard his lungs struggle to inflate because his chest is bound stiff and barely allowing him movement.
It hurts, but Ron endures the pain because it keeps him awake.
An hour later, his shoulders can move. The chest pains are agonising, and it takes all he has not to cry out every time he moves. He would call for help, but whoever did this to him was smart. He bet his life savings they'd put some sort of silencing charm on the door.
It's been two hours and Ron can finally move but his entire body burns. The worst is his joints that ache and crack with the slightest twitch. He can feel how wet and puffy his eyes have become. It's the worst case of growing pains he's ever had, and he is dizzy from the excessive exposure.
Three hours later and every step he takes feels like walking on pins and daggers.
It's torture and every second he spends trapped in what looks to be a broom closet, the hotter his blood boils.
As he slumps against the door, he's panting with exhaustion.
Taking a deep breath, Ron lets himself sink into the boiling heat of his temper.
Around him, his magic swirls and answers the wants of his emotions.
*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*
Ron opens his eyes and all he sees is red.
~(*)\(*)/(*)~
Dean would like to think he has a lot of patience for a boy his age. Many have often described him as polite and kind. But as he listens to Granger and Potter argue and snipe at one another, the headache he feels worsens.
Neville, bless his soul is doing his best to interrupt and mediate between the two. Against Harry and Hermione's aggressive nature, Neville's quieter personality was overwhelmed and easily ignored.
They'd just finished searching the second floor and were about to climb the stairs when Dean had enough.
"OH MY GOD! WILL THE BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!"
Neville jumps at his unexpected outburst, but Granger and Potter just turn to him with their deadly stares. Dean is so done with their arguing it has zero to none effect on him.
"God! How the bloody hell does Ron put up with you two?"
Harry sneers and Hermione growls but Dean does the same right back.
"Do you two even hear yourselves right now? Your friend is missing and all you can do is argue over who knows him best! You know what? Here's the bloody facts."
He points an accusing finger at Hermione and glares at her darkly.
"You might be a genius Granger but give Ron some bloody credit. He's not stupid enough to fall for a trap or scheme like that. He's not a bloody dog who gets tempted with treats! He's a human being! And you!"
Dean turns his finger towards Harry and shakes his finger to further emphasize his point.
"Ron isn't a bloody toy you can write your name on and not share with anyone! I'm not claiming to know what you're life is like, being famous and all, but he's his own person with a brain of his own. He doesn't need to tell you shit about himself and you don't need to know everything about him!"
The silence among the four is deafening, but Harry steps forward and Dean's not afraid of the boy-who-lived.
"You can hate me all you want, Thomas, but don't you ever imply I don't give a damn about Ron."
Harry's tone is dark and menacing, his green eyes bright with anger. Behind him Neville feels his magic curl around him almost protectively as the air bristles with wild magic. Dean doesn't falter, despite the tremble in the air and the obvious anger in Harry's eyes. He's a Gryffindor too, and Harry is practically asking him to keep talking. So, he does.
"Then do a better job at showing it, Potter. As far as I've seen, Ron's been doing so much for you, he bloody tucks you in some nights, for god's sake! All I ever hear and see is Ron doing all kinds of things for your sake. But what about you? Huh? What the hell have you ever done for Ron?"
Harry looks furious and opens his mouth to respond but pauses. He scrunches his nose in hard thought and slowly, the anger on his face fades. Bit by bit, Harry's temper fades until distraught shock is all that remains.
"I- That-"
Dean takes pity on the speechless boy and stops pressing.
"Look. I know you care a lot about Ron but caring about things isn't always enough. You need to show it too. Don't take this the wrong way, but you and Granger rely on Ron way too much and that's not healthy. People need to grow on their own sometimes to become better, greater and who their meant to be."
Harry has nothing to say to that. The quiet that grows between the two boys is heavy and a little tense but no longer as aggressive. Neville lets out a heavy breath of relief and tries not to sag to the floor. The chubby boy wasn't sure what he would have done if the two had started throwing fists at each other.
Dean takes a deep breath, a little wary now that he's said all that he thought out loud. He's still not sure if Harry's going to punch him or not, so he warily speaks once again.
"Are we good?"
Harry studies him quietly, before closing his eyes and nodding reluctantly.
"We're good."
They share a brief nod and look awkwardly elsewhere. Both boys can't help but think, that if the other didn't hate them before, they most certainly do now.
"Ahem…" Neville coughs.
Dean and Harry turn to the awkwardly shuffling boy, who points further down the corridor.
"I um, wasn't sure when I could interrupt the two of you, b-because you obviously had a lot to say. But uh, Hermione took off that way a while ago while you were arguing. I would've chased after her but um… Considering where we are, I wasn't sure if I should."
Dean and Harry were confused at first, but then they heard loud voices and turned to each other with dread.
"Oh no," the three boys groaned with dread before they ran towards the sound.
~(*)\(*)/(*)~
Oliver wasn't exactly thinking straight when he came across the wandering first years. He was certain Lee had explicitly told the first years to stay in Gryffindor tower. This was the last thing they needed, rampant and vulnerable first years wandering the castle amidst all the chaos. So, no, he did not have the patience to deal with Granger's stubborn refusal to go back to the tower.
"This isn't up for discussion, the four of you will march right back up to Gryffindor tower now," Oliver ordered with a stern glare.
Thomas and Longbottom knew without a doubt he was being utterly serious. The same could be said for Potter. Oliver didn't often let his temper get the best of him, but when he was serious, he was serious. He didn't make Quidditch captain or survive the deadly hazing trials of Charlie Weasley to be undermined by a couple of stubborn first years.
Perhaps Longbottom could sense it, or maybe the plump boy was simply attempting to avoid more conflict. If it were the latter, he should have expected the opposite, considering the news he decided to share.
"It's Ron! We can't find him. He got held back talking with Professor Flitwick and was supposed to meet us back in the common room ages ago!"
Oliver spits out a curse and the atmosphere around them shifts accordingly. The air trembles with barely restrained magic that sings with his panic. It's a split second of lack of concentration on Oliver's part, but he reigns it in quickly before it could affect the first years who stare up at him. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to focus on the situation at hand.
"Ok, how long has it been since you've last seen him?"
Thomas fills him in, and Oliver does his best to match Ron's last known locations with his older brother's whereabouts during the day. The conclusion he's coming to makes his stomach cramp and twist with nervous worry. Not for himself, or Ron, but the rest of Hogwarts should anything long lasting happen to the youngest Weasley.
The last time a Weasley brother went 'missing' for a few hours, Bill Weasley sent an entire dorm year to the hospital wing.
He'd been too deep in his thoughts to notice Granger and Potter muttering to themselves. A mistake as when he tuned back in, the two were looking certain of whatever they'd decided.
"No," he immediately orders but Potter and Granger glare up with him.
"Yes! Why else wouldn't we be able to find him if he's somewhere no one's supposed to go!" Granger argues.
Oliver growls and scrubs at his hair, absently aware that Thomas and Longbottom have moved to stay behind him. He found himself facing off with Granger and Potter, who stared up him with absolute certainty.
"NO! We'll find Ron but the four of you are going back to the dorms to wait until we return. There's a bloody reason Lee ordered you first years to stay in the tower," he snapped.
"What was the reason?" Thomas asked, but Oliver's priority was keeping Granger and Potter from doing something reckless.
Before anymore could be said, there was a loud explosive 'bang' from one of the upper levels. Enough to make the walls tremble. Granger and Potter looked to each other, nodded, and sprinted towards the stairs. Oliver called for them to stop but the two ignored him. Before he could chase after him, Thomas pulled on his robes.
"Oliver, wait! Look somebody dropped their wand."
Oliver turns and finds Thomas to be right. Tucked in the corner behind one of the armoured statues is a wand. Once again, Oliver's stomach twists with dread. A witch and wizard's wand was equivalent to their life. No one would voluntarily or carelessly forget or abandon their wand so carelessly. The dread in his stomach became resigned grief as he realised, he knew the owner of the wand.
"It's Ron's isn't it…." Longbottom whispered.
Oliver took a deep breath and knew he needed to be prepared for the worse. There would be no avoiding the fallout of whatever had been done. Percy and the twins we're going to go on a rampage and there would be no stopping it.
"We need to get Granger and Potter; no doubt the Professor's will be checking the floors after that explosion."
Oliver's simply thinking out loud, formulating his game plan without expecting the first years to help. But he is grateful and immensely relieved when Longbottom volunteers to chase after Granger and Potter.
"The three of you can meet us back at Gryffindor Tower. Tell them we found Ron and he's back there if you need to. Just get them back to the tower," Thomas adds.
Oliver gives his approval and then it is him and Thomas alone on the second floor.
"He's here isn't he. He's somewhere nearby," Thomas observes.
Oliver nods and knows whoever was responsible for this mess had done more than simply make Ron 'disappear'. They wanted to make sure he couldn't be tracked or found easily. Oliver pockets Ron's wand and takes a deep breath.
"Stay behind me and stay close," he instructs.
Thomas obeys without question and he's so relieved the boy doesn't question him further. What he's about to do isn't something that comes naturally for him. It was a theory Percy had rambled about while half asleep during one of his late-night benders. One Oliver had secretly been testing, and it involved a lot of self-awareness, concentration, and fine magic tuning.
Oliver closes his eyes and seeks his inner magical core. He inhales deeply, focusing on the tingling zap of magic in the air and turns it inward. The hair on his arms stand on end and his wand hand rides the waves of the magic in the air. There's no incantation to accompany the movements his wand makes; his mind is clear, and his focus trained on the buzzing of his core.
He's vaguely aware that he's walking, but with his eyes closed he's unsure of where to. They don't walk too far or for too long. Hogwarts magic answers his wants and leads him to a quiet section of the second floor. Oliver opens his eyes and inhales deeply, sending the crackling ozone scent buzzing through his senses.
"There's nothing there…" Thomas points out with a frown.
But Oliver can sense the out of sync pattern of the cobblestones magical signature and the castle's displeasure.
"That's what they want you to think," He mutters.
Oliver can still feel his core buzzing like a hummingbird, he's overwhelmed by the influence of the Castle's magic. It makes his skin itch until it's too painful to withstand. He needs to release the excess magic he's absorbed and channel it outwards. He glares at the wall before him and points his wand, with a flourished swish, he casts his spell.
"Finite Incantatem"
~(*)\(*)/(*)~
Perhaps it was the build up of magic in Oliver's core, or Hogwarts' own wish to be rid of the unwanted hidden cove that resulted in the blast? Maybe it was the desperation of a trapped and vulnerable first year?
Regardless, Dean Thomas will never forget the shock or terror he felt.
He had already developed a bit of hero worship for Oliver Wood as the Quidditch Captain for Gryffindor and cool older student. But it was in this moment, Dean decided Oliver Wood would be his role model. It was probably due to his many years of quidditch practice and training, but his quick and wordless manifestation of a shield charm was jaw dropping.
All around them splinters of wood and debris littered the corridor, but they themselves remained untouched. Dean knew, thanks to one of Granger's loud reading sessions, that even seasoned Aurors' struggled to produce a stable enough shield when on active duty. Yet here stood Oliver Wood, successfully accomplishing it without the use of a spell.
Dean snapped out of his marvelled shock when Oliver rushed forward.
He didn't gasp with shock or anything so dramatic, but for a very brief second, Dean honestly thought Ron was dead.
"Ronald, come on little Ronnie, wake up…." Oliver muttered as he checked the young red head over.
Ron looked unnaturally pale, sickly, and shiny with sweat. It wasn't until Oliver was checking over his head that they realised the red-head was bleeding.
"Shit! Dean, run ahead to the Hospital wing and tell Madame Pomfrey to expect us and ready a bed."
Dean ran to do as he was ordered while Oliver gathered Ron into his arms and began to carry him.
By the time he reached the Hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey was already busy tending to several students bed-bound and bandaged.
"Merlin, what now!?" She snapped looking rather distressed.
Dean swallowed and quickly spat out his words.
"A-A student, he's unconscious and bleeding from his head. Oliver Woods is bringing him!" he managed to say.
Madame Pomfrey waved her wand and a bed readied itself in preparations, just in time for Oliver to burst into the infirmary with Ron cradled in his arms. The sudden silence of the room was a telling sign of something Dean didn't understand. Not even the groaning bed bound patients made a noise at what they were seeing.
"Oh dear… Someone will need to ensure word reaches Minerva and Albus as soon as possible," she says solemnly before quickly working on Ron.
Dean hovers, unsure of what to make of the strange atmosphere of the room. He watches Oliver and Madame Pomfrey quietly argue with each other as she checks over Ron with her wand. He doesn't relax until Oliver slumps into his chair with relief.
He then hears one of the patients let out a groan of relief.
"Oh, thank merlin. He's fine just magical exhaustion and a concussion," they share.
Another scoffs and shakes their head with disagreement.
"As if that matters! You remember what Bill Weasley did the last time one of his brother's ended up in this place? What do you think nutters like Percy and the twins will do?"
"Dumbledore and McGonagall will get them under control."
But the uneasy silence that followed their statement wasn't exactly encouraging. Dean tuned the rest of their chatter out in favour of watching Ron. It was weird how everybody seemed to be wary of the Weasley brothers despite their popularity and less than favourable reputation among purebloods. The way Hogwarts tended to speak about the Weasley brothers was curious, always with a tone of caution and warning.
Dean wondered if he too should feel some form of fear towards the red-haired brothers like the rest of Hogwarts.
~(*)\(*)/(*)~
McGonagall appears in the infirmary as soon as she's told one of her lion cubs was there. She arrives to the sight of a pale Ronald Weasley unconscious in bed with Oliver Wood watching over him.
"How is he?" she questions doing her best to control the overprotective rage that she feels.
"He needs rest. The poor child's core was near depleted, any longer and I'm afraid he might have been found too late." Madame Pomfrey gently informed.
Minerva staggers back, trying not to let herself fall into the terror she feels at the thought. She looks to Oliver who has yet to look away from the boy in the bed.
"How did you find him?" she questions.
She'd already been told Dean Thomas's version of events but there are things the first year wouldn't recognise that the fifth year would.
"Sensory magic. I've been testing a theory on magical signatures."
Both Madame Pomfrey and Minerva raise their brows, impressed by the boy's initiative and curious mind. But it is a marvel for later praise. Oliver explains that his magic led him to a section of the second floor that had been charmed with a disillusion charm, confundus, and silencing charm. If not for Thomas spotting Ron's wand, they would have taken longer to find him.
"Mr Weasley was highly distressed and as you are aware, his condition is not suitable for such high stressed environments. In reaction to his situation, Mr Weasley's magic turned inward and began accumulating in response to his emotional stress."
Minerva did not like what the healer was implying, and she was certain Dumbledore would be furious as well. As the mediwitch continued to list the inflictions Ron had been under, Minerva's temper cooled from a fiery rage to a cold want for justice. "Thank you, Poppy, I'm certain he will be well tended to under you're care."
Madame Pomfrey scoffed and shook her head.
"I'd warned you, earlier didn't I? This House war will grow far worse the longer it's allowed to continue. Do not let your pride blind you to the safety of your students, Minerva."
The transfiguration professor said nothing in response, instead she seemed rather mulish. After instructing Oliver to return to the dorms and look after the rest of the first years, she made her way to Dumbledore's office.
Standing outside of his door, she inhaled deeply and momentarily thought, perhaps Poppy was right.
Maybe a truce should be proposed or risk a repeat of today's chaotic events.
But deep down, Minerva knew this would not be something for her to decide. She had long graduated and the political war among the houses was a student affair, one professor's weren't always able to influence.
When she was bid entry, she tried not to let her gaze linger too long on the three red haired boys standing in attention across from the other house heads and Dumbledore himself.
"I'm afraid I have upsetting news to share."
She braves a glance towards the brothers. A few years before, Bill Weasley stood in that very same spot, unremorseful and mildly satisfied about the chaos he wrecked. Following him a year or so after, was Charlie Weasley's careless shrug and amused grin at having tricked a first year into roaming the Forbidden forest. They'd been naïve to think Percy would be the break in the pattern.
Truly, Molly Weasley's boys felt no remorse for their overprotective ways and their excessive method of making a point.
"Ronald Weasley has been brought to the infirmary."
The anarchic explosion that followed her words made Chaos cackle and dance like a madman on meth.