1. Thanks a lot to ORCA47 for helping beta this chapter. I am sure it will be far better with that valuable advice. Also thanks to Ana-DaughterOfHades who helped me years ago on the initial version of this.

2. Any error here is mine and not from my reviewer.

3. Finally in Hogwarts. Nice, let's get this thing moving.

It was barmy business to be back at Hogwarts as a normal student. The walks through its wide halls felt more like a memory than anything else. Ron was anxious and sometimes even the laughs in the corridors made him wary. He feared that at any moment the world before his eyes would reveal itself as nothing more than someone else's sick joke.

That wasn't going to happen though, deep down he knew all of it was real. That mirror had somehow sent him twelve years into the past, to a world that wasn't his anymore. Harry's desperate yells, young Parker's lifeless body and that man's mismatched eyes were all out of his reach now.

Ron needed to return, that much was true. The problem was that he didn't have a blasting idea of how he was going to accomplish that. For all he knew, that time-travelling mirror didn't exist yet, and may still take a long arsed time before it was made. The young Hermione didn't have the knowledge to help him make a new one either. Ron was truly alone and there was no one to tell him what he should do now.

It was all a barking mess. Even if by some twisted turn of fate he found out how to return soon enough, how was he going to say goodbye to Fred? Meeting him again had been almost too much to handle.

The first morning after the sorting, Ron had practically dragged Harry to sit next to the twins. He couldn't have possibly waited any longer. For them, it had been a breakfast like any other; for Ron, it had been so much more.

"As your older brother, I have to say, you got us worried for a moment," George had told him then.

"We thought the hat was running out of options for you, Ronnie." Fred had added, shaking his head from side to side and pressing his lips in a fake sign of disapproval.

Ron had only shrugged at it, holding back a smile. He just couldn't be mad at them.

"It took a long time with me too," Harry had said.

"Well yeah, but you're Harry freakin' Potter, you must be interesting. Even for an old saggy hat."

"Bet its other head-wear friends are jealous right now."

The twins made Ron laugh whenever they joined them, which was something that helped him a ton, which did wonders to his mood considering how nervous he was about messing things up further.

Having Harry was great as well. Ron would have preferred a lively chat with his older self but the young Harry brought something familiar that he was in no place to refuse. The easily-amazed boy was his old friend, more insecure and secluded at times for sure, but still Harry. Just as last time, Ron got along with him effortlessly. However, it was still hard to look at him without thinking of everything that was yet to come.

As expected, whispers followed them from the moment they first left the dormitory. It was bewildering for Ron to be more used to them than Harry was now. His friend was annoyed about the gossiping and Ron felt sorry for him. He wished he could say that it wasn't going to last long, but he knew that was far from being the truth.

Ron soon realized that he was back at being that-redheaded-boy-next-to-Harry-Potter. He hadn't been so anonymous in years and, surprisingly enough, he found it refreshing. Ron had been a renown hero for some time and, even when fame had its advantages, he had come to understand perfectly well all of Harry's complaints.

At least we don't have to deal with Skeeter just yet.

All in all, it was a good thing that people weren't paying Ron too much attention. The very last thing he needed was to be noticed. He had to go back to his time and he had to do it soon, before he changed something or before someone could discover him.

Unfortunately, Ron made his first mistake as soon as the day after the sorting.

Without really thinking about it, he guided Harry through Hogwarts as if he knew the castle by heart. Which of course he did. Granted, there were a few details which Ron had forgotten about — such as the exact position of the ruddy fake steps at the staircases — but he remembered the important paths and secret passages well enough. Ron made sure they never got lost in going from one classroom to the other, and he was even careful enough to avoid Sir Cadogan's territory in doing so.

"My brothers have talked about the castle for ages, and I have been lucky guessing a few tricky shortcuts," Ron used to say to Harry those days. His friend was certainly surprised at how fast Ron could move them through the halls.

It didn't take long for Ron to wonder if he was altering things by moving them like that, but by then Harry had already learned his ways around the castle. They didn't go unnoticed by Fred and George either, who were impressed by how quickly they had found some secret passages.

"Not bad. Not bad at all, Ronnie. Still, I don't think you know it all."

"There are many secrets in this old castle. Some of them are only known by us," added Fred with a wink.

Ron truly doubted that.

Occasionally, he heard the twins complete each other's sentences again, something he had thought he would never witness again. Every one of those times, he thought of the future-George. His brother always had Fred in his thoughts and Ron wished he could be there too. Seeing the twins joking again was enough to erase all the bitterness from before. It made Ron forget about fighting and shifty men of mismatched eyes for a while.

Not everything was well though. There was something that he was still missing, something he couldn't live without. Hermione.

Ron's eyes followed the girl whenever she appeared. He missed her. Her older self. Even with Fred there he couldn't stop feeling like he wouldn't be complete until he had her in his life again. Hermione was his constant reminder that he had to return.

Although, that was easier said than done. Ron didn't know how in Merlin's baggy pants was he going to return yet, and he couldn't even go to the library to look for a solution. Harry was always with him and Ron didn't have any good excuses to ditch him. Their friendship was just starting after all, and leaving him alone would affect a lot. So, the best option Ron had for the time being was to continue things as normal. Hopefully, once Harry got into the Quidditch team, the practices would give Ron the perfect opportunity to find out what was going on.

In the meantime, Ron had to be a first year again. He had to deal with Peeves, and Filch, and Malfoy... and he had to attend classes on top of that. He soon discovered that the difficult part wasn't doing all those things, but keeping them as close to last time as possible. He didn't have a problem doing so in Herbology or History of Magic, where he could properly blend into the back of the classroom; however, once McGonagall's class arrived, he realized that he couldn't distract himself one bit.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," the old witch had said in her first class, "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

The beginning of the lesson, as well as most of the other classes, was plain boring. Ron knew all the things the professor was talking about, still, he couldn't just stand up and ask for a complex Transfiguration session. He pretended to read the basics in silence and, once the matches were out, he made lazy movements with his wand, trying not to turn it into a needle on the first go.

Ron spared a quick glance around. Hermione was entirely focused on her task, while Sally-Anne Perks and Alice Tolipan sat behind her. Ron imagined the girls were just too intimidated by Hermione's enthusiasm in class to attempt any kind of friendship with her for the time being. It made Ron wonder what would have happened if he and Harry hadn't befriended her first. Would Hermione have made friends with them? Or would she have stayed alone through all of her school years?

He shook that rubbish away. Ron didn't want to think about Hermione being alone. It was bad enough as it was, knowing how lonely she would be these first weeks and not being able to talk to her. He couldn't imagine Hermione getting close to Lavender or Parvati, but he wanted to believe that she would have approached Sally-Anne at least. Or maybe Hermione would have made friends with Neville sooner.

Casually, Ron moved his eyes to the other side of the classroom, where Neville was swinging his wand as it was some kind of beater's bat. Ron winced. If Neville went on like that, he had a better chance of turning his wand into a needle than the match on his desk.

Ron couldn't befriend Neville either, he realized.

"Does it look any different to you?" Harry asked at his side, pulling Ron's attention back. Harry was frowning at his match, trying to see any noticeable difference.

There was none.

"It looks like a match, mate. I reckon it looks even less metallic now than it was when you first got it," Ron said. He wasn't going to lie to the boy.

Harry snorted, making Ron feel like a prat.

"Don't worry about it. No one else has got it yet," Ron said in a gentler tone, remembering he was talking to a kid, "Maybe you need to focus a bit more, like thinking of the match transforming a little at a time. More security on the wand wouldn't hurt either, like this."

At those words, and without even thinking too much, Ron targeted his own match. His eyes sprung open, because suddenly he had a pretty solid and shiny needle in front of him. Harry was astounded as well. Only a few minutes had passed since McGonagall gave them the matches and not even Hermione was close to doing it.

"What do we have here?" the professor said, approaching Ron's desk. "I must say I'm impressed, Mr Weasley. I don't recall ever seeing a student doing this so quickly before."

Ron gulped. That was definitely not what happened last time.

As the professor raised the needle for everyone to admire, Ron shrunk down in his seat. He knew he had made a bleeding mistake. Not far away, Hermione frowned and continued working on her own match. The girl was able to transform it a bit by the end of the class but she still threw some strange looks at Ron.

Being the first of the class was important to Hermione, especially to first-year Hermione. Ron couldn't take that away from her. He walked out of Transfiguration looking as if he had done the crappiest of jobs.

Lavender and Parvati passed them on their way out. Seeing Lavender still scared Ron, but much less so than during the Sorting. He couldn't talk to her either. And even if he could, how could he apologize for something that hadn't happened yet?

Yeah, people thinking I'm mental is just the thing I need right now.

A few doors away, he stopped thinking of Lavender at once. Hermione was in the middle of the corridor, waiting for them. The girl was holding her book tightly against her chest, her eyes narrowed at Ron.

"H—Hermione?" Ron asked terrified, he couldn't remember this happening the last time. He took a step back and almost tripped over his robes.

"How did you do that?" the girl demanded.

"I— well, what do you mean?"

"The needle,"

"Oh, that. Er, it was in the book," Ron said, trying to not let his nervousness show.

"That was supposed to take us weeks, you did it during the first class," she insisted, "Have you been studying on your own? Did you look at a different book?"

Ron didn't know if she was angry or just curious. Next to him, Harry raised an eyebrow, he was looking at Ron too. "What? No, I only, I just followed the instructions, honestly," Ron mumbled.

Hermione didn't look convinced. "What of that thing you did on the train? You didn't say anything, no incantation whatsoever, nothing. You just did it."

The colour drained from Ron's face. He was supposed to look normal, he couldn't have Hermione suspecting him in the first week. What was he thinking doing stupid non-verbal spells?

"I said it quietly, my brothers use that spell all the time, I—"

"Well, I was close and didn't hear a thing."

Ron was helpless, he didn't know what to do. To his fortune, or misfortune, Harry came to his defence. "Can you knock it off already?" he asked quite annoyed, "He said that he did it, okay?"

The young Hermione appeared to be considering a reply, but instead, she huffed and walked away swiftly. Ron was worried, he didn't know if that had been a good or a bad thing but something was urging him to run after the girl. It would be easy to befriend her now, avoid her those lonely first weeks at school. However, the older Hermione would have told him to let the young girl go since he shouldn't be changing things.

Ron could almost hear his wife's voice, "It's not a big deal, truly. There are more important things. It'll be alright."

After watching her turn on the next hallway, Ron shut his eyes and forced himself to stay with Harry. And they continued their way.

"I don't know what's her problem. Is she mad because you did the needle thing first?" Harry asked moments later.

Ron shrugged. "I don't think so. She was just curious," he said awkwardly, earning an odd stare from his friend.

It was then that Ron remembered the older Harry. When they last headed into the Department of Mysteries, Ron had tried to tease his friend about Hermione being right after all. Harry had cut him off then, telling him that he knew that already.

The younger Hermione was right this time as well. Ron hadn't said a single word when he used the leg-locker spell back at the train. However, Harry refused to doubt Ron even at this stage. The boy's trust certainly helped, but it made Ron uneasy too.

Harry was a special case regarding trust. He considered it an offence to doubt a friend, but he wasn't very forgiving with treason either. Would he stop talking to Ron if he found out the truth? If he knew Ron had been lying to him ever since the train?

Ron didn't want to find out.

It was a troll-sized mess. He wanted to be able to talk to the younger Hermione, but, on the other hand, he couldn't afford to lose Harry's friendship. Maybe the best thing to do was wait for things to go back to the way they were before. If things worked out, they would be friends with Hermione by Halloween.

Ron should be back at his own time by then.

o0o0o

Defence Against Dark Art hadn't been pleasant. If they had a normal teacher Ron would have felt pretty much like in Transfiguration. He was an experienced Auror after all. Nevertheless, it's not every day that you go willingly into a class with Voldemort behind the teacher's desk.

Once, Ron had heard that bad people made good teachers, but whoever said that must have been thoroughly pissed, since they never learned shite from Quirrell. Being fair though, Ron doubted that Voldemort ever gave teaching an honest effort.

Seamus and Dean had been the first in mocking the professor's apparent nervousness, and soon the whole class seemed to be absorbed in grinning at the weirdness of the stuttering Professor Quirrell. Not Ron though. As absurd as the idea of Voldemort teaching was, the class had been anything but amusing to him. Ron could see right through Quirrell. He kept a straight face even on the goofiest or more pathetic behaviours of the professor. Behind the turban and the pesky garlic scent, Ron could see who he truly was. The prick was a pretty good actor, he had to give him that; at moments it was hard to imagine he could be so dangerous.

Even when the class was not practical at all, Ron didn't relax the grip on his wand. He wasn't supposed to change the past and that included Quirrell, but he had to be prepared either way. Hermione and Harry were there and Ron couldn't let them get harmed.

Before he knew it, Quirrell's class was over. Ron hurried to take Harry out of there and, once outside, he released a large breath. He followed Harry to their next class mostly in silence, his mind still baffled with questions about his situation. Also, he might have been sweating.

What if the worst had happened? He wasn't Harry. He could duel well enough but it would rain pigs before he could win a fight against Voldemort. Not to mention that being in his eleven-year-old body made dueling even harder. Ron had to keep his guard up though, as any of Quirrell's classes had the chance of going very bad, very quickly.

Ron complained about his bloody fate, and continued to do so for the rest of the week. Why did it have to be him? In his place, Harry would certainly be more prepared or would at least know how to improvise. Harry had the drive to get out of any hardship and land on his feet. If Hermione was in the past instead, she would be more cautious and would have found a perfect plan to return by lunch. What did Ron have instead? He couldn't use Quidditch knowledge to return to his own time, and was pretty certain his chess skills wouldn't help him to defeat Voldemort.

Oddly enough, he imagined playing a chess match against Voldemort. The noseless prick would be sitting calmly, taking his bright red eyes off the board only to instill fear on his opponent.. Ron reckoned the evil wizard's style would be paused and strong, sacrificing every other piece around as long as he ensured the mate with his queen. Ron knew how to play against that, with swift and unpredictable strikes from his knights. Even so, he knew his mental chess tactics were worth half a pigmy puff at the moment.

Ron spent the remainder of the week trying to answer all of Harry's questions about the Wizarding World and, to his own surprise, he was now helping him with his homework as well. Ron was a bit lazy about actually writing the essays but at least he knew most of the answers there.

"Locomotor Mortis," Harry tried one afternoon. Ron was teaching Harry the Leg-locker curse. The boy could pin his legs together but he still needed to work on the strength of the spell. Ron could get away from Harry's curse quite easily.

"You'll get it by next week."

Maybe teaching Harry that spell so soon was changing things as well, but he couldn't get away from it. Harry kept asking about the time he used it on Malfoy and Ron had promised to teach him after all. He needed to prove that it was an easy spell for a first-year to learn. He didn't want Harry suspecting him any more about the train scene.

At the moment, what really worried Ron was the whole Transfiguration incident. That could surely change things in a bigger way. Every first year was talking about his feat with the needle and he even got a few words of surprise from the twins when it reached their ears. Percy seemed ready to guide him on the arduous path of being a passionate student as well, which Fred and George found to be a thing worthy of a joke or two.

Another thing Ron had noticed was that Harry seemed a bit more annoyed towards Hermione than he was last time, and Ron had to find a way of solving that before leaving.

It had startled Ron when Hermione talked to them after Transfiguration, but even when it was quite a change Ron couldn't stop from hoping she would talk to them again. He didn't like seeing her alone all the time.

Ron got also used to the ghosts again. Both, the pearly-white ones and the ones who were going to die at some point in the following years. It still took him aback to find Roger Malone or Stephen Cornfoot behind the corner of one corridor, but at least it didn't scare the crap out of him anymore. Not as much, it didn't.

Halfway through the week, Ron saw Adrian Pucey for the first time, and an instinctive frown formed on his face. The Slytherin was a few feet away and he didn't even turn to look at them. Ron had been right about Pucey betraying them and, even when the boy hadn't done anything yet, he couldn't stop feeling the need to hex his stupid arse all the way to the floor.

The git deserved it, but unfortunately, Ron wasn't trying to change the future so he decided to let it go.

o0o0o

Eventually, Friday came and Ron knew perfectly well what that meant. More Slytherins he couldn't hex.

"What have we got today?" Harry asked at breakfast.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron sullenly.

"That's Professor Snape's class, isn't it?"

Ron nodded, not looking particularly enthusiastic, "Yeah, he's Head of Slytherin House and he always favours them, that's what Fred and George say anyways."

"I wish McGonagall favoured us," said Harry

It was weird how different their thoughts surely were at the moment. They both appeared to be focused on the Transfiguration homework but deep down Ron's worries were somewhere else. As unbelievable as it sounded, he was counting the days until he could start paying visits to the library. Ron needed to start looking for time travel books and, if he was lucky enough, he would be able to see Hermione there. He needed his older wife, but he also wanted to make sure her younger self was doing alright.

His musings were interrupted by a hundred owls streaming around the Great Hall and delivering all kinds of packages and letters, and for the first time that week, Hedwig landed next to Harry. It was Hagrid's note asking to meet him at his hut. Ron was at least happy that it wasn't a note about a certain dragon egg. He wondered how that would turn out now, though he was quick in pushing the thought away. He wanted to believe that nothing would change since his actions so far couldn't possibly have that much of an impact on the timeline. At least not yet. He had to move fast.

Soon they were off to the dungeons. Ron walked as slowly as he could all the way there. A few yards from the entrance his eyes popped open. He had an idea but he didn't know if he should dare.

"Er, do you know anything about Potions?" he asked, making up his mind. A little change won't hurt anyone. And, after Quirrell, he just needed something to make him feel as if he wasn't turning a blind eye to every bad thing in the world. "Have you gone through the book already?"

Harry looked terrified at Ron's question. The boy had been comfortable with the classes so far, since he had seen that even kids from wizarding families weren't that much ahead. Ron had accomplished the needle thing of course, but almost everybody else had seemed to be struggling as much as Harry with their needles. Nevertheless, the possibility of not being prepared for Potions brought a terrified look from Harry at once.

"Were we supposed to?"

"No, of course not, but, I wondered."

"I don't know a thing about Potions," admitted Harry.

"The same with me. I mean, I only know a few things. Like this bezoar... it's a stone that comes from a goat's stomach, I believe," Ron said, trying to sound casual as he looked at his friend from the corner of his eye, "Percy talks about school rubbish all the time, so there's that. It's supposed to cure most poisons."

Ron thought that was enough. It would be suspicious if Harry suddenly knew all the answers to Snape's questions, and to be honest that was the only one Ron could remember. He couldn't forget about that stone after all, it had saved his life once. It would be better if Harry kept that one in mind.

The dungeon was exactly the same, it still had its dozens of jars against the walls with dead animals inside. A charming decoration, by all means. To his surprise, Ron soon found himself missing Slughorn.

As Snape entered the classroom, Ron remembered Aster Prince. She must be a very far relative from Snape, as she didn't look anything like the greasy git in front of the class.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," Snape began in his usual drawling whisper, "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper on death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Ron could almost count the seconds, he knew what was coming.

"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Ron thought he knew the answer but he couldn't give Harry anything. Hermione did too as she was now raising her hand vigorously in the air.

"I don't know, sir," said Harry.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer, "Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything."

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Harry's eyes opened wide as he turned to his side. Ron pulled out the best shocked look he found.

"A goat's stomach?" Harry asked doubtfully.

Ron had to try awfully hard not to laugh at Snape's face.

"What did you just say?" the professor asked, looking very displeased at Harry's words. From his reaction, one might think that he had given him the wrong answer.

Ron nodded at Harry. "A goat's stomach, sir," Harry said a bit louder this time.

"And what is it used for?" the greasy git demanded.

"It—It cures a lot of poisons."

Snape seemed to be considering his answer for a bit, "Seems like you do know how to read a book after all. I'm afraid that it'll take more than that to get a good grade in my subject."

For a brief instant, Ron thought the Potions' teacher was going to leave it there, but apparently that was too good to be true, "Can you name two poisons that cannot be cured by the use of a bezoar, Potter?"

Harry looked as if all of his good luck had just ran out. After that, Snape asked two more questions that Harry got wrong of course. Harry's good answer made things worse since the man was now determined to make Harry look bad. Malfoy was sniggering in the back but Ron didn't even mind the ferret since during the next question he lost it.

"That's a second year question!" he shouted and his eyes popped open when he realized that he had said it out loud. The whole class went silent and Snape's dreadful eyes shifted to Harry's side. Even Hermione's attention moved to Ron.

"Excuse me, Mr…?"

"Weasley," he said, then added begrudgingly, "sir."

"So, Mr Weasley, do you have something to say? I must have forgotten the moment when I asked for your opinion."

Ron was tense, he had surely made a mess of it again but he wasn't willing to back out now. He frowned. "That's a second year potion, I think, professor," he said in a low voice. He couldn't recall the last time he got similar attention in a Potions class.

Snape's look was ice cold, "Is it now? So should I believe you know what I would get if I mix bat spleens, dried nettles, and puffer-fish eyes?"

"A swelling solution," Ron answered. Harry was confused, moving his eyes between Snape and Ron.

Snape didn't make a gesture of having heard Ron. The class was still silent, even Malfoy was waiting for Snape to say that Ron was wrong to start laughing. But Ron wasn't wrong.

For the barmiest of seconds, Ron wondered if he was going to get points from the professor, but when Snape spoke he knew the hope had been nothing more than a folly.

"Enough with the simple questions, we have to move forward with this class," Snape then moved his eyes full of hate to Ron. "A point will be taken from Gryffindor House for talking out of turn, Weasley," he continued and turned to Harry. "I would keep studying if I were you, Potter."

Malfoy's mocking laugh came of course.

Harry was fuming, but fortunately, he didn't say a thing. Deep down, Ron knew Snape was on their side, but the git kept making it incredibly hard not to hate him.

Ron didn't raise his voice during the rest of the class but that didn't mean he didn't have the opportunity. After Ron's moment with the questions, Hermione seemed more eager to get noticed. She raised her hand throughout the class with more insistence than before. When Snape told her to sit down with a rude remark, Ron almost shouted again.

The class continued as Ron expected. As an old scene lost in memory. It was surreal to see Seamus' cauldron throw weird fumes as Malfoy lashed silently at Goyle in the back. The girl Ron thought was Tracy Davies was entirely focused on her potion nearby, just in front of Neville's table. As expected, Neville was having a hard time with his potion and Ron knew that whether they helped him or not they would be scolded, so Ron helped him either way once he was finished. Unconventionally, all Ron got from Snape was a nasty glare, which meant that his potion was acceptable.

Now that was a first.

Ron was amazed at himself, he couldn't remember a single time when he had finished so quickly and got Snape's approval. On the other hand, he couldn't forget he was an auror in a first year class either.

He could almost imagine the mocking words his Auror training examiner would give him.

"Look at you, Weasley," old Hugh Rabnott would say with his cackling laugh, "You aced that rookie potion all by yourself. I'll have to tell the Head Auror to keep an eye on you, eh?"

A sneer brought Ron back to that rotten dungeon. Throughout the class, Snape continued being a git towards Harry, but he also sent cautious looks at Ron from time to time. A couple of times Harry tried to answer back at Snape, but Ron kicked him under the table and stopped him.

"Don't push it," Ron muttered.

Neville still messed up his potion, but not as bad as he could have. At least he didn't need to go to the infirmary. Ron knew Neville was actually pretty good at Potions, he only needed a little help. After all, an expert herbologist was ought to be good at potions and, in Ron's time, Professor Sprout had already taken Neville as an assistant.

All in all, the class turned from dreadful to boring, and soon enough they were dismissed.

o0o0o

"Oh forget about the ugly bat already," Ron told Harry once they made their way out of Potions.

Harry was frowning. "I just don't get it! You had the right answer, and I didn't do anything before, but he was still out to get me."

Ron gave his friend a half-smile. It was a shame that he couldn't talk to him about his father's and Snape's problems. "Er, mind if I join you at Hagrid's?"

Hagrid's Hut was a nice change from the dungeons and Ron was even glad to see Fang again, the old coward.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Ron and started licking his ears.

"Ehm, This is Ron," said Harry, as the half-giant prepared his infamous rock cakes. Ron paled, he had almost forgotten about the bloody rock cakes.

"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."

Ron smiled, if there was something good about this whole thing, it was seeing the twins together again. He imagined that if he stayed long enough he would eventually start getting annoyed by them taking the mickey on him, but that time wasn't close yet. Besides, Ron couldn't stay long enough to find out.

Before Ron knew, Hagrid put some rock cakes in front of them. Ron showed a twisted smile even before his first bite. It was then that Ron remembered the cake he had promised to Penelope, right about the time they were being ambushed at the Ministry's Atrium. Penelope was a fighter, and one of the good ones. Ron had been lucky to have her then, as lucky as Penelope should feel that it was him and not Hagrid who owed her a cake. Thankfully, Ron had never cooked anything half as dreadful as those rock cakes yet.

Harry was soon telling Hagrid about their lessons and he mentioned Snape of course. The huge man was impressed about Ron having answered a second year question, at which Ron smiled nervously. He didn't know for how much longer the 'I heard it from my brothers' excuse was going to cut it.

The conversation moved to Charlie and then Ron told Hagrid that he was convinced his brother would marry a dragon if he could. The half-giant burst into laughter.

"Hagrid!" Harry's voice got Ron's and Hagrid's attention, "That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"

Ron turned away, he knew what was going on in his friend's mind at the moment. At least he hadn't messed with that part. The whole Philosopher's Stone events started just like last time.

As they headed back to the castle, Ron threw a few glimpses back at his young friend. Many things were awaiting Harry and a minor change could cause a lot of damage, that was what Hermione would say.

Ron felt heavier, and it had nothing to do with having his pockets filled with rock cakes. He had been carrying a big burden ever since he left his house the night of the attack. He never had such a big responsibility lying solely only on his shoulders before. He was afraid of not being up for the task.

It was still uncertain if the events of Transfiguration and Potions were just little forgettable moments or if those would affect something bigger.

One mistake, that was all it would take. One mistake and everything could be lost.