The last day of term, after the Leaving Feast but before the carriages arrived to transport the students to Hogsmeade station, Professor Dumbledore once again 'happened' to corner Ron alone in a hidden passageway as he headed to Gryffindor tower for some last-minute packing.
"I trust you've had time to fully consider your experiences by now," the Headmaster said, his eyes twinkling as he smiled fondly. "I would hope you feel able to relate your unexpected adventure with the Stone by now?"
Ron felt the command of his presence, the certainty that he couldn't refuse.
He could have resisted, perhaps, had he any reason to do so.
"Certainly, Professor," he said. "What more do you need to know? I'm sure Harry already told you about how we hid the Stone in the Griffin's secret room."
"Ah, now, there is a minor discrepancy there. The creature Harry described was no griffin."
Ron let out a snort of laughter. "I may not be taking Care of Magical Creatures, Professor, but I think I know a True Griffin when I see one. There was no mistaking it."
Professor Dumbledore regarded him gravely, his expression contrasting against his light tone. "Indeed? Then, please indulge me a moment. Describe the griffin for me?"
"It was huge," Ron began, his memory saturated fully with how big and how gold the griffin had been. "Taller than Hagrid by at least as much again. Gold fur and feathers, with a black mane and tail. Golden red wings, as wide as the Great Hall, easily."
"Indeed," Professor Dumbledore said, still smiling. "Would it surprise you to hear that young Mr. Potter described a creature much smaller to whom he gave the stone? A silver-feathered beast who he described as distinctly female?"
Ron stiffened, breathing in sharply. "So. . . we don't actually know who or what Harry gave the Stone to?"
Professor Dumbledore nodded. "That's the sum of it, yes. While I believe the Stone is probably safe, I really must be able to access it. My dear friend Nicholas rather depends upon it, you see."
Ron nodded, his mind racing. "Is the Gauntlet still there?" he asked, looking up hopefully. "I could go back in—"
But Professor Dumbledore was shaking his head. "It vanished during the Leaving Feast," he replied. "The trapdoor and all beneath it is gone, as though it never were. Fluffy has been removed to Hagrid's care outside of the castle, and by next term the Third Floor will be as it ever was."
Ron wished there were room to pace, but the passageway was already fairly tight. He could have taken about three steps toward or away from Professor Dumbledore, but it seemed rude to do so.
"Why are you telling me this?" Ron asked.
"You are in the unique position of having access to many things that ordinary students do not," Professor Dumbledore said. He waved a hand around them. "This passageway, for instance, has never before opened to admit a student. Yet now I've run into you here not only once, but twice. Hogwarts herself is shifting, around you. I do not know what it means, but it is clear to me that such a monumental occurrence ought not be ignored."
Ron remembered what the griffin had said, about ancient prophecies coming to their fulfillment. He shivered. Being the plaything of destiny didn't sound very comfortable.
"Thus," Professor Dumbledore continued. "I have determined that you ought to be informed of certain events which may prove important to your future. I believe that you are meant to act for all the Houses in some greater way, but to what end I cannot say."
He thought that he saw Professor Dumbledore's eyes wander to the belt of Gryffindor around Ron's waist, its gold-woven metal shining in the passageway's dim light.
"What do I need to know about?" Ron asked.
"Primarily, what I have just told you. And that should the occasion arise I would greatly appreciate the Stone being returned to my care. I shall, of course, be more careful in its hiding place in future. When the Mirror resisted my attempts, I should have seen at once that Hogwarts was warning me of my course. Instead, I pressed onward. I see now that was a mistake."
Ron felt a strange mixture of gratitude and pride. He'd always known Professor Dumbledore was a great man, but it was different at an impersonal distance. For him to take a personal interest in Ron, to go so far as to confide his own failings? It turned Albus Dumbledore from a distant legend to something else. And, Ron rather thought, something more.
"And, beyond that," Professor Dumbledore continued. "I wish to offer you my help should you ever need it. It is my responsibility as your teacher and headmaster to do my utmost to protect you. What you have faced so far, and what you have yet to face, is yours to confront. But that does not mean you need face it alone. If ever you need my help, ask."
"Thank you, Professor," Ron said sincerely, nearly overwhelmed by having been singled out so.
He'd always faintly dreaded going to Hogwarts, imagining himself struggling to stand in the shadow of all his older brothers, but this first year he'd found it quite the opposite. It was strangely freeing, the ability to be himself and be seen as himself.
People were far more interested in him as the 'four-house boy' than as 'Fred and George's little brother'. More likely to ask him for help with homework, than if he was going to be the next Charlie. And now the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore himself, was making a point of offering his personal help.
Ron didn't care what Harry said. Being famous was rather brilliant.
"Do you remember anything else from your journey beneath the Mirror?" Dumbledore's quiet voice cut through his thoughts, bringing him back to the present.
Ron described the hallway beneath the school, the stairs leading down to it, the little landing with the fountain, and the three doors. Somewhat out of order, but he got to them all eventually. The whole time he spoke, Professor Dumbledore nodded and regarded him solemnly, clearly paying careful attention to the whole account.
He glossed over much of the griffin's conversation with him, though; that felt a bit too private. He also neglected to explain where he'd gotten the belt, but Professor Dumbledore merely nodded without comment. If he noticed the evasions he was polite enough, and respectful enough of Ron's decision not to share the full story, not to ask.
"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Professor Dumbledore said, nodding in thanks. "You have made several things quite clear to me. Do not be surprised if you find similar opportunities during the coming years. Act with care, but remember what you learned here. Whatever your house of the day, you will always be a true Gryffindor."
Word of his imminent transfer to Hufflepuff had spread, and he'd had as many Gryffindors pleading with him to stay longer or wanting to shake his hand or get his signature before he went as he had Hufflepuffs suddenly wanting to get to know him before they all separated for the summer. With all the interruptions, it had taken him nearly an hour just to move halfway down the train to where his friends sat.
"He drank the wrong potion," Harry was whispering as Ron slid into the compartment. Everyone else leaned forward to hear. "Got completely addled. But then instead of trying to carefully figure out the rest from that, he just tried to brute-force the puzzle by drinking all of them, one by one."
"Who?" Ron asked, taking a seat beside Seamus.
"Professor Quirrell," Harry said. "That's why he's dead. He tried to do the tests like you did, but he failed."
Ron frowned. "The griffin said the tests wouldn't hurt anyone."
"She told me he proved himself completely unworthy," Harry said, shrugging. "And I got the feeling she didn't approve of him trying at all."
"I still can't believe we solved it," Hermione muttered to Ron, flipping through her notes. "It's practically impossible to solve."
Ron made a noncommital sound. It had been an intuitive leap, not anything that the riddle itself had made clear, but the solution felt correct the moment he thought it.
"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Seamus was asking Harry.
"I wasn't allowed to, dummy," Harry said, grinning. "Professor Dumbledore said I wasn't to tell anyone at school. Well, now we're not at school anymore, are we?"
Hermione gaped at him.
Ron patted his shoulder encouragingly. "That's the spirit, Harry!"
"No, Ron," hissed Hermione. "You shouldn't be encouraging him to break his word."
"I don't mind," Seamus said eagerly, leaning closer to Harry. "What else did Professor Dumbledore tell you?"
Harry shrugged a bit uncomfortably. "He didn't tell me exactly. Harmony told me more than he did. He just made me promise to keep it quiet at school." He looked a bit panicked for a moment. "So, none of you can tell anyone else, alright?" he said hastily, looking from Hermione to Neville to Ron to Seamus.
"I promise," Hermione said at once, looking sternly at the others.
Neville nodded solemnly.
"Sure," Ron said, though he wasn't entirely confident in his ability to keep that promise. His brothers had a habit of getting anything out of anyone.
"Of course," Seamus said, waving it away. "Who's Harmony?"
"She's the griffin in the Mirror," Harry said at once, smiling reminiscently. "She said she wasn't expecting me to come so soon, but promised to look after—" Harry broke off and glanced guiltily at Ron, as though unsure how much to say in front of Seamus. He hadn't really been part of their team, though he seemed quite friendly with Harry.
Ron hadn't told anyone except Hermione about their trip to save the Philosopher's Stone. He wasn't sure if Harry had, but from the looks of it he hadn't and was trying very hard to think of a way to evade the truth.
"Yeah," Ron said, saving Harry from having to decide. "I don't feel like I need looking after, but I certainly won't say no to a Griffin. They're very powerful and very rare, so who am I to complain?"
Harry smiled gratefully. "So Harmony promised to look after us and said she was looking forward to seeing me again someday. That was when she told me about Professor Quirrell. She said he, unlike me or Ron, was not worthy to enter the Trials, and that he had performed quite poorly for someone from the Roc's house."
Ron was, despite himself, quite impressed. "And you kept that quiet this whole time?" he asked.
Harry grinned sheepishly. "Well, I wasn't going to go against Professor Dumbledore in his own school."
Ron imagined Professor Dumbledore, his perpetual calm, the confidently sedate way he walked, and how he exuded an aura of complete control. That old, thin, almost frail-looking frame concealed the greatest magical power of any living wizard in Europe. Even when he was doing something mischievous or mad, he did so with such an air of conviction that some people never even recognized his humor for what it was.
Ron nodded. "Wise decision."
Albus Dumbledore stood by his window, Fawkes trilling gently behind him. The phoenix song soothed him, helped relieve some portion of the weight that he carried, but it was not enough to prevent his thoughts racing around each other relentlessly.
These days, destiny seemed to be running in pairs.
Two potential prophesied children, eleven years ago. And now two potential Heirs, attending at the same time. And long before that, two potential lords of magic, his memory unhelpfully supplied.
His face wrinkled in a brief frown, as his thoughts drifted for a moment to another old man, alone in his own tower room, but in very different circumstances. And how much more different those circumstances could have been, if either of them had made different choices.
He forced his thoughts away from the past, bent his mind again toward the present and future. He had learned much this year, and suspected more.
Quirinus had fallen victim to a trap never meant for him, his Ravenclaw curiosity driving him to do foolish things. Why, Albus wondered, hadn't he been smart enough to simply flee? He had never been even slightly Gryffindor in temperament, and especially since his return he'd been more afraid than ever. Why had he chosen to test himself against the Gryffindor gauntlet?
And how was it that he had fallen to the sole Ravenclaw test within it?
Albus dearly wished that he could have returned, himself. So much could be answered if he could simply speak to the Griffin himself.
But though as Headmaster of Hogwarts he could order the Mirror to show itself to him, no amount of coaxing or threatening could convince it to allow him passage through it. He had already undertaken his own Trials, and the Mirror would not forget.
He closed his eyes a long moment, listening to the phoenix song, and thought it sounded somewhat like a lament. But the more he concentrated on it, the more it seemed to be building up in intensity. Subtly, the rhythm behind the notes rising and increasing, but so slowly that if he hadn't been listening so intently he would have never noticed.
Not a lament, he realized. A warning.
But a warning of what?
Author's Notes:
So, turns out this project wasn't quite ready to be put on the back burner. Have an interlude. :)
If I may ask one great favour of y'all? If you happen to know your Hogwarts house, could you be so kind as to leave a comment (or PM) with what you consider your house's most important or best attributes/ability/etc? Or how they would react in a crisis, or ways they interact with others? Especially Hufflepuff at present, since that's the Year Two focus, but any would be useful!
I stuck with mostly canon type stuff for Gryffindor, since they have the largest representation, but for the others it would be incredibly helpful to see how other houses perceive themselves in reality. Don't be afraid to stray from the canon definitions if it helps, I'm looking for honest detailed assessments. Since I'll need to be writing content for the less-developed houses, the more the better.
Second question: I've been sort of planning Voldemort to be a low-key kinda side thing that happens more or less off-screen, with Harry off having his own adventures while the focus stays mostly on Ron. Will it feel weird as an HP fic if the main POV protag has very little to do with taking out Voldemort? I still have plenty of time to change the plan, such as it is, if needed.
As always, thanks for reading!