Ron Weasley had not been expecting to become unstuck in space-time.
In fact, what he had been expecting was to have a decent nights sleep, and then begin preparing for the war that was coming.
Ron's seer powers had completely emerged earlier the previous day, and he had given a warning of sorts to Harry, Hermione, Luna, Ginny and Neville, as well as Professor McGonagall. Of what they all needed to do, so that the war could be won against Voldemort.
He got gone to bed that evening, looking forward to a good rest.
The universe, however, did not intend that for him.
He must have fallen asleep at some point, because he dreamt of being surrounded by a rainbow of different colours lights, and the sensation of falling headfirst through some sort of… well, it was a tunnel made of the same lights.
Ron yelled in alarm. But no sound came out of his mouth. It was as if he was outside the realm of understanding. The lights began to burn against his retinas, and he frantically tried to shield his eyes. But it was no good. He fell through the tunnel faster and faster, the lights blurring together into one enormous blur, which continued to grow stronger.
The lights got brighter and brighter, until-
Ron sat up in bed.
Bloody hell, he thought, wiping the sweat off his brow with his pyjama sleeve, what was…
His thoughts trailed off. The pyjama top he was wearing was not the one he had gone to sleep in.
Ron's forehead wrinkled in confusion. What was this? Had Seamus and Dean done this as a prank? He needed to have a word with them about that; he was a prefect, after all.
Yawning, Ron reached over to pull aside the hangings of his four-poster.
He froze again.
The curtains were not the same colour. Granted, they were still red, but… the shade of red seemed to be different.
Wrenching the hanging apart, Ron clambered out of bed. It was then that he noticed that the pyjamas he was wearing were far too short on him. They seemed to have been bought for someone about half a foot shorter and with a much thicker chest.
'What the-'
The hangings of the four-poster nearby opened, and a dark-haired boy climbed.
'Morning, Ron,' yawned the boy, pulling on a pair of glasses. 'Did you get a good…'
The boy trailed off.
'You're not Ron!'
'And you're not Harry!'
And he wasn't. It was like looking at a version of Harry with obvious mistakes. For one thing, this boy wasn't skinny and was a good half a foot shorter than Harry. His hair didn't stick up in all directions. His eyes were blue. His scar didn't even face in the same direction.
'What do you mean, "not Harry"?' exclaimed not-Harry, looking affronted. 'I'm Harry Potter, but you're not Ron Weasley!'
'What are you-'
'You're about half a foot taller,' not-Harry continued, pointing at Ron. 'Your nose is too long, and you're too skinny!'
'I've always been this skinny!' Ron replied, hotly. 'Look, where am I? And why am I wearing these pyjamas?'
'You're in the Gryffindor boys dorm, and I don't bloody know why you're wearing those!'
Not-Harry grabbed his wand from his bedside table.
'What were the first words that Ron Weasley said upon meeting Sirius Black?'
'What are you-'
'Answer me!'
'"If… if you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too".'
The boy's wand wobbled.
'You… you did that too, then.'
'Yeah,' Ron said. He didn't need to even verbalise it; this Harry's Ron had done the exact same thing.
'What's… what's going on?'
The Harry looked so worried that Ron felt all remaining anger vanish.
'I… I don't know,' Ron said, sitting back down on the four poster that belonged to the other Ron. 'I dreamt I was flying through some kind of tunnel, with flashing lights everywhere. Like… like I was being sent somewhere. And then I woke up here.'
Harry nodded.
'And you really don't where Ron is?'
'Maybe he's where I was?'
'I… I think we need to talk to Professor Dumbledore.'
That was good! Dumbledore was one of the smartest people in Ron's world, so maybe this version was the same!
'Agreed.'
Harry covered his face in his hands, looking mentally exhausted.
'Don't worry,' Ron said, earnestly. He crossed the room, sat down to Harry on the bed, and put a supportive hand on his shoulder. 'We're gonna get your Ron back, don't you worry.'
Harry smiled.
'You're are lot like him.'
'Thanks. For what it's worth, you're a lot like my Harry too.'
Ron followed Harry down the staircase and into the Gryffindor common room. It looked vaguely similar to his own, but -again- with obvious mistakes. The chairs were the wrong shape and the curtains the wrong shade of red. It already felt weird to be wearing robes that didn't match the ones he was used to; these uniforms were basically a long robe over a jumper and dark trousers. Not the all-in-one robes that the students of his Hogwarts had to wear.
A girl walked up to them. She was roughly the same height as Harry, with shoulder-length straight hair, and perfect make-up. She looked a little like the girls whose posters Lavender Brown sometimes stuck up in the Common Room; no pimples, hair always immaculate, and what Hermione referred to as 'having too much time on their hands'. Basically, the sort of person who would never give Ron the time of day. Not that he was complaining; he was currently dating Luna Lovegood, after all.
Needless to say, this girl in question would not have got along with Luna, or Hermione, for that matter.
'Harry, who is this?'
Her voice was sharp, and her eyebrows seemed to move more than most peoples.
'Er….' Harry started, his eyes flicking worriedly between Ron and the girl.
'Harry, why is he wearing Ronald's robes?'
Ronald? Ron's eyes narrowed in confusion. No-one called him 'Ronald', except when they were angry at him. Did this girl dislike the Ron whose space he had taken?
'Because he…is Ron….?'
The girl's eyes narrowed, and her jaw set. The way she was glaring at Ron made him feel very uncomfortable.
'You don't look much like Ron.'
'Hermione, please-'
Hermione?
'Wait, you're Hermione?' Ron exclaimed, his eyes widening in shock. 'And you have the nerve to say that I don't look like Ron?!'
'What on earth are you blabbering about? Honestly!' Spat the girl, glaring at Ron like he was a wart on the end of her toe. 'I've got to get to breakfast; you can explain this to me later, Harry!'
And with that, she flounced away, her jaw still set angrily.
'Sorry about that.' Harry said, taking in Ron's horror-struck expression. 'She's a bit much at times.'
'Are you seriously telling me that this world's Hermione is…is…her?'
'Yep. Always has been. Why? Is the version in your world different?'
'Yes!' Ron exclaimed, running his hand through his hair. 'My world's Hermione is…is…'
Merlin, this was complicated, to say the least. Yes, he had once been in love with his own world's version of Hermione. But… well, things had changed a lot over the last year. Hermione had apologised for the birds, and they were sort-of friends again. That didn't mean he had entirely forgiven her for what she had done. And, even then, she herself had said that he was under no obligations to let her be closer to him than he felt comfortable with, given the circumstances.
'Oh, I see.' Harry said, comprehension dawning on his face. 'Complicated, eh? Well, I don't know how things are like where you're from, but here, my Ron's… '
He trailed off, giving a knowing look to Ron.
'Seriously? For her?'
'She was nicer last year. You should have seen the way she looked at him.'
'No offence, mate, but I find that very hard to believe.'
Harry smiled.
'C'mon; we best get to breakfast.'
Ron attracted some very confused stares from the other people sat at the Gryffindor table. He tried not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. All around him were people who felt like imposters of those he knew. Lavender Brown was white, Neville was skinnier and had brown hair, and even Dean Thomas looked far shorter than Ron knew him to be.
'Prank of Fred and George,' Harry explained to the other Gryffindors quickly. 'You know what they're like.'
The other Gryffindors nodded in understanding, before going back to their breakfasts. Ron wondered for a moment why they were all so willing to believe that their Fred and George would pull such a prank or why the other Gryffindors didn't seem concerned about this happening to their Ron, but decided that maybe he didn't want to know. Did so many in the universe really treat his counterpart so badly?
He would have liked to have seen what this reality's version of Ginny was like, but Harry explained that she had already left for her next class. That was a bit of shame; it would have been nice to see another Weasley here, even if it wasn't the sister he had grown up with.
Ron spotted not-Hermione further up the table. She glared at him, turning her nose up and stabbing her porridge with her spoon.
'You okay, Ron?'
Ron turned to Harry, who was looking at him in concern.
'I'm stuck in a universe where my counterpart's crush treats him like a petulant child, and everyone thinks he's an idiot. Yes, of course I'm fine.'
'Oh…' Harry said, patting him on the shoulder. 'Well, there's one thing that might cheer you up; Quidditch!'
'Oh, yeah!' Ron said, brightening up. 'I just hope that I live up to my title.'
Harry looked confused.
'Title?'
'Yeah. You know; "Weasley is our king".'
Harry blinked, still looking baffled.
'Er… what's that?'
Ron's shoulders slumped.
Seriously, was every good thing he had ever done just non-existent here?
After breakfast, Ron followed Harry back to Gryffindor Tower. They had Transfiguration first, apparently.
'You best take his bag,' Harry said, indicating the bag by the side of Ron's counterpart's bed. 'We'll go to Dumbledore during our free period later.'
Ron nodded.
After reaching the classroom (and ignoring the strange looks that Ron received from every student along the way), Harry and Ron took their seats near the front. Not-Hermione was sat nearby; she gave Ron a suspicious look and promptly ignored him.
Harry frowned at her, but couldn't say anything, as Professor McGonagall had just walked through the door and approached the teachers desk. McGonagall did actually look similar to how she did in Ron's reality, although her robes were not in the tartan patterns that her counterpart wore.
'Mr Potter, why does Mr Weasley look like that?'
'Er… Fred and George sent him a prank, professor,' Harry said. 'We'll explain later.'
McGonagall clearly did not believe him, but she nodded, called the class to order, and set them to their work for the lesson. The class quickly started to bustle around them. Feeling awkward in these too-long robes, Ron slid the thing onto the back of the chair, and began to absentmindedly roll back his sleeves up to the elbow.
There was a collective gasp.
Ron looked up from his parchment to see Harry and not-Hermione, as well as the rest of the class, staring at him in shock. McGonagall's eyes had widened in apparent horror. All of them were staring at Ron's arms.
'What?'
Harry leaned forward.
'Er, care to explain where you got those scars?'
Ron looked down. Of course, his scars from the ministry hadn't faded yet. But that would mean…
'Does…' he leaned forward so only Harry could hear him. Not-Hermione looked suspiciously between them. 'Does the other Ron not have these?'
'I think we would have noticed if he did,' Harry replied, in a whisper. 'What the hell happened?'
'Department of Mysteries,' Ron explained. 'Me, Ginny and Luna got separated from the others. Ginny could barely walk, so I was defending them both while Luna helped her along. I got hit by a spell; went a big funny. Brains were involved.'
Harry's mouth had fallen open.
Ron could immediately tell what was on Harry's mind.
'That didn't happen here, did it…'
'No...' Harry said, quietly. 'Was it supposed to?'
Ron sighed, pulling his sleeves back up over his forearms as he heard Harry quickly imply to everyone around them that the scars were also part of Fred and George's "prank". He was starting to see a pattern in this reality.
The lesson passed quickly, or at least it did to Ron. He found himself putting a lot of effort into what McGonagall had asked, possibly as a way to take it mind off his current situation. Although he found it difficult to do so when not-Hermione kept shooting him suspicious glances. As soon as McGonagall signalled the end of class, Ron and Harry hurried out of the door.
However, not-Hermione was right behind them.
'Are you going to explain what's happening? Or am I going to have to ask you both to act like adults for once?'
'I find that insulting people's intelligence is not a good way of them trusting you enough to tell you something,' Ron replied, stopping and turning to stare down at her. 'Either you stop treating me and Harry like toddlers, or I keep mum about what's happening.'
Not-Hermione glowered at him.
'Harry, I don't trust this boy,' she said, looking round Ron. 'He seems rather spiky.'
'Can't imagine why,' Harry muttered, rolling his eyes. 'Look, we'll meet you back in the common room later.'
'Fine, be that way!' Not-Hermione snapped. She turned on her heel and sauntered away, her nose held high in the air. 'Honestly!'
'What a smug little twerp,' Ron muttered, glaring after her.
'Dunno why she's got such a bee in her bonnet over you,' Harry said. 'C'mon; Dumbledore's office is this way.'
Ron followed Harry off down the corridor. After walking for about fifteen minutes up staircases and through secret passageways, they eventually reached the Griffin statue that signalled the entrance to Dumbledore's office.
'You know the password?' Ron asked, turning to Harry. 'Where I'm from, he changes it all the time.'
'Oh,' Harry said. 'That's a good point. I haven't used the password in a while.'
'I know the password, Mr Potter.'
They both turned. McGonagall was walking towards them.
'Acid pops.'
There was a loud clang from behind the statue, and the Griffin turned on a sort of mechanical screw, revealing a spiral staircase that rose upwards with the statue. It reminded Ron somewhat of the muggle escalators he had seen on the London Underground.
The two boys followed McGonagall up the spiral staircase. She knocked on the door.
'Enter.'
Ron followed McGonagall through the door, and his eyes widened as he saw the figure sat behind the desk. Dumbledore did not look like Dumbledore at all. He was shorter, with a far more nervous energy, and his hair was dark grey as opposed to white.
Dumbledore regarded Ron with a quizzical look, before nodding slowly.
'So, you are not from this reality, Mr Weasley?'
Ron shook his head.
'I woke up in this reality this morning,' he replied. 'I… I dunno why I'm here.'
Dumbledore stared at him, as if sizing up whether he was trustworthy. Presumably, he was, because -after a few seconds- Dumbledore nodded. He continued to listen intently as Harry and Ron explained the finer details of what had occurred, and what they were still unsure of.
'I do wonder,' Dumbledore said, after they had both finished, 'whether the introduction of a different Ron Weasley to this reality was not done simply to cause confusion.'
'Wait,' Harry said. 'You think Ron was sent here for a reason?'
'Indeed,' the old wizard replied, turning to look at Ron again. 'Since we have no way of contacting your reality, it is entirely possible that once you have accomplished some sort of task, you and your counterpart will be moved back to their respective realities.'
Ron swallowed.
'Hopefully, this… task should make itself clear soon.'
'I hope so too. Although…'
Dumbledore trailed off. Harry and Ron shared a worried glance.
'What?'
Dumbledore leaned forward and looked at Ron over steepled fingers.
'If I were you, Mr Weasley, I would not disclose too many details to those around you. Mr Potter will be safe to speak to, but…'
A horrible thought appeared in Ron's brain.
'You think whoever switched me and your Ron could still be around. A Death Eater?'
'Possibly,' Dumbledore said. 'Although I doubt that Voldemort would have access to that power and not use to it to, say, remove myself or Mr Potter from this reality.'
'For the time being,' McGonagall said. 'I believe that we keep up the façade of Mr Weasley's change in appearance being due to a prank of his twin brothers, so as not to arouse suspicion.'
Dumbledore nodded.
'Good thinking, Minerva. Now, Mr Weasley, I suggest you and Mr Potter return to Gryffindor Tower before your presences are missed.'
McGonagall and Harry turned to leave. Ron moved to follow them.
'Tread carefully, Mr Weasley,' Dumbledore said, and Ron turned back to him, hand on the doorhandle. 'Something is… amiss in this reality, it seems.'
Harry and Ron headed back to Gryffindor Tower, but found not-Hermione walking down to meet them. Ron found his mood instantly lowering.
'So, are you going to finally explain what's happening?'
'Sorry,' Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck. 'Dumbledore says it's all hush-hush.'
'Very well.'
Not-Hermione stared at Ron strangely.
'Maybe I was too harsh with you earlier. I'm sorry, Ronald.'
Maybe it was the "Ronald" that did it, but Ron suddenly felt very wary. Like he was getting pulled into something sinister, despite her words.
'Eh, right,' he said. Something felt wrong. Was he sweating? His forehead felt clammy. And why did his hands feel so achy.
Ron looked down and-
The light! It was barely perceptible, but the light that signalled a vision was beginning to glow from the skin of both his hands.
Thinking fast, Ron shoved his hands into the pockets of his robes, and pushed past Harry and not-Hermione.
'I'll meet you two back here; toilet…'
Ignoring their confused looks, Ron headed for the nearest boys toilets, keeping his head down. His head didn't seem to be glowing, but he needed to get out of the sight of passing students.
Ron pushed the door open and stumbled through. Like most boys toilets, this one stunk of deodorant and urine. But Ron barely noticed as he shut himself up in a cubicle. He had barely turned the lock when the light began to brighten, and he felt his eyes glaze over as the vision began.
A dark room.
Chains. Cages. Bars.
Ron stared around him. He could barely make out any features of the room that surrounded him. There were weird echoes around him, as if rats and mice were scurrying across the floor. It reminded him of the Chamber of Secrets.
Putting that unpleasant memory aside, Ron found himself drawn over to the side of the room, where the cages were. A huge stack of them, all piled on top of each other. They ranged in size, from small enough to carry owls, or… large enough to contain a human.
Ron scowled. Something was happening here. But he couldn't even place where this one. It was definitely underground, the dankness of the room around him made that very clear. But where?
His vision narrowed onto one of the cages. With a jolt, Ron realised that there was a figure crouched inside. Ron stumbled forwards, and peered in. The figure was short, and was wearing a jumper and jeans.
And had bushy hair.
Hermione Granger was inside the cage, her eyes wide and scared.
'R-Ron?' She asked, scrambling forward. 'Are… are you Ron? Another Ron?'
Ron dashed forward, putting his hands around the bars.
'Hermione?' He gasped, horrified. 'What's going on? Are you… Wait, another Ron?'
'Thank merlin!' Hermione exclaimed, tears trickling down her face. 'I'd almost given up hope!'
'What happened? Who did this to you?'
'You're from another reality, aren't you?' The bushy-haired witch said. Ron stared; she must be another version of Hermione. 'Of course; that would explain how he-'
Ron felt the vision shudder. His eyes darted around; already, he could see the edges of the vision fading into blackness again.
'Who's behind this? Why aren't you at Hogwarts? Please, I don't have much time!'
'Someone from another reality,' Hermione said, quickly. 'He kidnapped me, kept me here. Something… something about making this reality the correct one, he seemed half-mad.'
'Who? Who?'
'I don't know!' Hermione exclaimed. She reached through the bars of the cage and grasped Ron's hand. 'Ron, I'm scared, I don't know what to do!'
'I'll find you!' Ron gasped, already feeling the walls of the vision closing in on him fast. He could see parts of Hermione's bushy hair fading. 'Me and the Harry of this world, we'll find you!'
'Be careful!' Hermione cried. The vision was almost completely faded. Ron could only make out her face and the hand clasped around his. 'This person is dangerous; they want us all altered and changed forever, Ron! Please-'
'We'll stop them! Don't worry, I'll get you, I'll-'
The vision faded, and Ron collapsed onto the toilet seat. His forehead was coated in sweat, and his heart was hammering like he'd just run a mile.
His mind raced, as the memory of the vision swirled through his brain. What on earth was going on?
'Ron?'
Harry. His voice sounded like he was standing by the door of the boys toilets.
'Be… be out in a mo.'
Checking to make sure that light had completely faded from his skin, Ron unlocked the cubicle and walked over to the sink. He washed his face quickly, savouring the cool feeling of the water against his skin.
He then headed out of the toilets, meeting Harry and not-Hermione outside.
'You okay, Ron?'
'Er, yeah,' Ron said, noticing the suspicious look that not-Hermione was flashing in his direction. 'Just… it's a lot to acclimatise to.'
Dumbledore had been right. Something was definitely amiss in this reality. And he had to find out what it was quickly.
Thanks for reading, everyone! Hope you liked the first chapter of the continuing saga of seer!Ron. Just a reminder that if you leave a guest review, I can't respond to any questions you might have asked in the review.
