I'm alive, apparently. And I can't believe I need to do this again but apparently another lengthy author's note is in order.
First off, I'd like to apologize again for the long delay in the updates for TBA (and my fanfic projects in general). I haven't been in a good place mentally and emotionally for a while now because of the pandemic and whatnot. Then, I've been second guessing myself quite a bit lately with the way the story is going, because of the feedback I've been getting that TBA is just recycling/forcing old plot lines from the books (like the troll and Norberta).
So I had to look deep into myself and what I'm writing, and to find the strength to commit to my work no matter the criticism I'll get in the future. Maybe someday I'll look back and think, "I can't believe I thought it would be a good idea to write this!" But for now this is the best I can do, and for the rest of TBA's run, I hope it will be enough for my readers. To those who have supported me, nudged me to become better, and who still want to stay with me until the end (and seven books is LONG!), you are amazing beyond words.
My utmost gratitude to my dear beta, ac nelli, for their hard work and their support. Thank you also to the kind words of my readers, especially general-thinks, PaintfullAMT23, Clarroxl, and BiiaCrvlh. Hippothestrowl, for lighting my arse with their reviews, thank you also. I hope you keep what I told you in mind. :)
And for London Knight's Brit-picking, because I said time and again, I'm not British, so I wouldn't know about cultural nuances no matter how much research I do. Because research doesn't beat experience. From my experience, school days would take a break on Christmas week (so that's December 20), and resume on the first week of January (the weekday after January 1). Just so you know.
Right, enough of that shite.
Happy Halloween!
Chapter 15:
Golden Eyes
Dear Ginny,
I'm sorry I haven't written to you in a while. Things have been a bit hectic here at Hogwarts, but you can always owl me whenever you feel like it. Errol, that lazy ball of feathers, needs the exercise, and it's always nice to hear from home. And I hope you're not too lonely without having other kids around to play with, since the Fawcetts and Lovegoods away and all.
Thanks for the new gloves you sent for my birthday present, by the way. Mum mentioned in her card that you helped knit those for me.
Percy, Fred and George planned a small party for me at the Tower, and I have to admit, they really surprised me! Almost all the Gryffindors were there, and the twins even managed to sneak this big chocolate cake into the Common Room! They still won't tell me how they did it. But between you and me, I don't think they have to. Remember our little secret?
Now here comes the hard part of this letter. I wish I could just write about the good things, Ginny. But if you're going to find out about this, I'd rather you hear it from me. See, your idiot brother botched up. Big time. We—Harry, Hermione and I—got caught out of bed past curfew two days ago, and boy did we get it! As if getting yelled at and detention weren't already bad enough, we also lost Gryffindor 50 points. Each. 150 points in one night. Makes my gut twist just writing that down.
Of course, everyone's right mad at us for it. Can't really blame them, after being so close to winning the House Cup this year. I don't know if Mum and Dad will find out about it, but I'm ready for that Howler just in case. What I want you to know is that I didn't do it for anything stupid. I didn't even do it for me. I wish I could tell you why I snuck out during curfew, but that's not my story to tell. Maybe someday, I'll be able to.
All I can do right now is try to win back all those points I've lost. I'm sure things will die down eventually, but hopefully putting Gryffindor back in the lead will help make the dust settle sooner.
Owl you soon, little spitfire. Don't let the gnomes bite too hard! See you this summer!
Love,
Ron
The Room of Requirement was an amazing place, even for someone born and raised surrounded by magic.
The spacious room was transformed into something closely resembling the Burrow living room, with a weathered wooden floor, a cozy stone and mortar fireplace roaring across a downy, old couch, a couple of beanbags and a few throw pillows on top of a patterned rectangular rug with red and green squares. There, Ron sat on the floor in one of the beanbag chairs, Second Chance open on the coffee table in front of him, his expression a cross between frustrated and pensive.
Three days have already passed since he, Harry and Hermione were caught by McGonagall, but he could still hear her furious tirade ringing in his ears, the memory of her anger still enough to make his gut churn painfully. The old witch's face was as red as a tomato, her entire frame so stiff and board-like it looked ready to shatter (or explode) at any moment. Ron was half-certain he could hear her magic crackling and sizzling at the sheer force of her fury as she gave them a thorough tongue lashing that left their House a hundred and fifty points shorter, Hermione quivering in tears, and Harry pale, flabbergasted and almost terrified.
"To think you three are such brilliant, promising students! Do you think that gives you the right to wander around without regard for the school rules? I never thought you would disappoint me to this extent, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger! Absolutely disappointed!"
McGonagall might as well have stabbed Hermione's heart with a rusty knife, Ron thought at the time. Out of all the Professors, it was McGonagall who Hermione always admired the most, and to hear from the woman herself how much Hermione disappointed her must feel devastating.
But no matter how Hermione or any of them felt at the time, none of them spoke of the real reason they were out during curfew, which Ron felt in hindsight they probably should have. As much as he cared about Hagrid, the half-giant really fucked them over with Norberta's situation, and it miffed Ron off that the man could get away with it while he and his friends had to suffer for his mistakes.
Much like in the old life, the Gryffindors reacted to the loss of House points with chilling scorn and disdain. Cold shoulders, dark stares, and pointed murmurs followed the trio wherever they went, with some even vocally ribbing them for costing their House their best chance to win the House Cup. Even their fellow First Year House mates, except for Neville, gave them a wide berth, though not really out of spite, and more of them not wanting to get caught in the crossfire.
He supposed he should be grateful that Harry didn't have to deal with tense dormmates because of this mess, since Seamus was pretty laidback about the whole thing and Dean found the whole cold shoulder treatment absolutely ridiculous.
Still, the event left Harry and Hermione quite traumatized, to the point that they just wanted to keep their heads down and survive the year without getting into any more trouble, including investigating the Stone. Ron understood, as he'd be lying if he said that he wasn't affected by all this. That Percy and the twins seemingly avoiding him bothered Ron much more than he was letting on…
Harry and Hermione must have hearts of saints, because, unlike them, Ron was far from forgiving Hagrid for forcing them into this situation. And while his anger towards Hagrid had cooled somewhat these past few days, he still kept his distance just in case he'll end up saying or doing something he'll regret.
But more so than with Hagrid, Ron was furious with himself.
His friends may have felt that they had done the best they could considering the circumstances, but bloody hell, they're just kids! He was supposed to be an adult despite being stuck in a scrawny twelve-year-old's body, not an actual tot who has no mind for tactics or strategy!
So many questions flooded Ron's mind when he was given the chance to think about it: How did they get caught in the first place? Did someone other than Malfoy overhear them last Saturday? Why hadn't they been more forceful in convincing Hagrid to let Norberta go sooner? Why didn't they involve Hagrid in the actual escape plan since it had been his bloody fault they had to smuggle a dragon out in the first place? Why did Ron think that sneaking the dragon out on their own was a brilliant idea? He had time to think of a better plan, hadn't he?
Because I thought the cloak was the only reason the first time this happened went wrong. Because I thought I could handle it. Ron massaged his temples with a growl. Well, fantastic job, you dumb fuck! If you just went straight to Dumbledore, then maybe none of this shite would have happened!
It was in hindsight that the idea of going to Dumbledore came to him, and logically speaking, it would have been the best solution. Unlike with McGonagall, Ron was sure Dumbledore would do his best to send the dragon away while keeping Hagrid out of trouble, given how fond the latter was of the half-giant. And since Harry, Hermione and Neville were still at the point where they had complete faith that Dumbledore can pull miracles out of his arse, Ron knew he would have been able to convince them to follow that plan.
So why didn't he?
"I love solving puzzles." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in Ron's memory. "That's what makes you all the more interesting."
The redhead rested his head onto his hands. Fucking Dumbledore…
Since the incident with the mirror, Ron had been doing his best to avoid any interaction with the old wizard, which wasn't hard because Dumbledore is Headmaster and should have more to do than fascinate over the puzzle he perceived Ron was. However, in his bid to avoid the man, Ron had overlooked how easier and far more practical it would have been if they just told Dumbledore about Norberta. In his rashness, he let his fear and anxiety blind him from the better play.
And what kind of chess player does that?
A loser, that's who. Ron scowled, pressing his thumb between his eyebrows. "Chess is about intimidation as much as it is about strategy," grandpa used to say.
Septimus Weasley's lessons, seemingly from long ago, came rushing into his mind.
"The first one to fear for his King will be the one to lose."
"One piece, one move, can change the game to a mate or victory."
Ron clenched his fist before flipping Second Chance again.
I've been too lax.
He scratched his quil on the pages.
I let my foreknowledge get to my head. In my fear to change the future, I became too passive.
If we were back in the war, all of my friends would have been dead.
The image of Harry, lying face up with glasses askew, eyes blank to the heavens, flashed in Ron's mind. The boy crushed his quill in his hands.
I won't let that happen. No more thinking like a child, Ronald. Put that chess player brain of yours to good use.
There were a few more months before the end of the school year, and the inevitable confrontation with Quirrell. He hadn't been able to utilize Dumbledore's help with Norberta, but could he do so with Voldemort's puppet?
Easier said than done. Ron tapped his newly acquired replacement quill (thank you, Room of Requirement) on the encircled "Quirrell" on Second Chance. I can't just go to Dumbledore and tell him about Quirrell's possession. I could tell them to rip the turban off—it's all the proof I'll need—but that'll create more questions, like how did I find out about that in the first place? And is the attention I'll get after that worth it?
Ron slapped himself. Literally. To hell with that! No more worrying about getting even more noticed! If this is the best course of action, by Merlin, Ronald, you will see it through!
Because indeed it was. If Quirrell would somehow be found out before the end of the year, then Harry and his friends won't have to go through the traps guarding the Stone. What's the harm in not letting Harry meet Voldemort (or the waif of the bastard) this year as scheduled? The horror of facing the Basilisk and the Horcrux Riddle are to come in Second Year anyway.
Speaking of that motherfucking diary… Ron shook his head. I hate to admit it, but I'll have to worry about that some other time. Back to Quirrell, there has to be a way for me to give that information to Dumbledore without it seemingly coming out of nowhere. Let's see what else I can remember about that phoney. Acts cowardly but is actually a snake in the grass. Knows a bit of dark magic, too, I reckon. The one who killed and fed off those unicorns, the heartless arsehole. And what else? What else that I can use…?
A few seconds later, the telltale warmth in his pocket was back, and Ron's hand went for the Deluminator. Light and color bloomed quickly before his blue eyes.
..."Can you believe that the twins actually have been pelting snowballs on You-Know-Who this whole time? Bloody hell, just thinking about it makes my skin crawl!"
Eleven-year-old Hermione chewed her bottom lip. "Really frightening when you think about it. Who would have suspected Professor Quirrell having such a secret, after all. Possessed by You-Know-Who all this time. That must have required some terrible dark magic!"
"I reckon it's some forbidden life and death magic stuff, like the ones the Ancient Egyptians used to guard their tombs with. Bill told us a few stories back when he was still researching about Curse Breakers." Ron shuddered. "They can get really nasty, making you grow extra heads or your skin melt off."
"Disgusting!"
"The twins thought it was wicked."
"I'd expect." Hermione said dryly. "Although regarding Quirrell, now that I think about it, there were signs all around that he was actually possessed. Hindsight really is 20/20!"
"What's this about a 20?"
"Something to do with vision. I'll explain later." The bushy haired girl waved her hand dismissively. "Anyway, I mean, when you really think about it, the smell coming off of his turban was too strong to be just garlic. And didn't Harry mention he heard Quirrell talking to someone? Isn't it odd that he couldn't hear who it was, but he could hear Quirrell clearly? I reckon that's how Snape figured out there was something wrong with Quirrell in the first place!"
"Because he's gone looney, talking to himself all of a sudden?"
"Along with other small clues, yes," said Hermione. "Snape was most likely onto Quirrell when Harry saw them together after the match! Maybe even before then."
"Before then? You mean during Halloween?" Ron's eyes sharpened. "Maybe that's why he got bitten by Fluffy! He was trying to stop Quirrell! Bloody hell, now that I didn't see coming!"
"Neither did I. It's jus so easy to believe that Snape was the bad guy. He certainly didn't help to lessen the image."
Ron made a face. "Even after knowing all this, he's still a greasy, bitter bat to me."
"We're just speculating, Ron."
The red head shrugged. "Since most of the speculation came from you, chances are they're right. I mean, it's you, Hermione. You get stuff right, and you're bloody brilliant at it."
Hermione's face turned pink. "Th—thank you, Ron."
"...Why are you looking at me like that? Shite, don't tell me I have something on my nose again!"
… That was longer than expected. Ron thought after the memory ended. And I barely remember that even happened. This confirms it: this Deluminator can retrieve memories, but it's something connected whatever it is I'm really focused about. Then once it warms up, I only need to grab it to get the vision. Wicked! With this, I'll be able to remember things that can help me in the future! And that vision gave me a few ideas I'll need to write down…
Dear Ron,
We know it's rather late, but Happy Birthday!
Harry's written to us all about the party you've had in Gryffindor tower. I hope you had a splendid time with your friends. I remember how much fun the parties we used to throw in the Tower were. James and I would find a way to sneak in a bit of Butterbeer and Firewhiskey to make things livelier. Used to always drive Lily bonkers, the mess we made.
More because we had to clean up after the ungrateful berks—
Amazing times, really! I'll tell you all about them next time! Including that one when we spiked Remus' pumpkin juice—
Anyway, Ron—
And then he got so drunk he tried flirting with—
T=========
=I====s=======f=======w========
A==========
=o=====ie=======g==========ny====L======
=======J============R============
I'm sorry for the messy start, Ron. Don't worry, Sirius has foregone all writing privileges until he learns to behave himself. Where were we?
Sirius' rehabilitation is going really well. He's gained more weight and is able to walk around for longer periods. Soon, he'll only have to go to St. Mungo's once a month, something I'm not entirely sure whether the staff is happy or sad about. Sirius is a downright nightmare as a patient, I would know, but I think a few Mediwitches there would miss having him around. Sirius always had been the charmer.
We'll be going to Gringotts later this week on some business. More importantly, we'll finally get Sirius a new wand. Thank Merlin for that. He's been whining my ear off for weeks about getting him one.
Sorry, Sirius tried to steal the quill again. And yes, he was whining. Exponentially. No matter what he will write later insisting otherwise.
Although he's also worrying about something more than his wand. To be honest, I am too. In his more recent letters, Harry's tone changed. Back then we could practically feel his excitement leaping out of the parchment. But some days ago, he sounded off. We wrote to him asking if anything was wrong, but he insisted that he's fine.
Which Sirius and I can tell is not true.
Hullo, Ron, it's Sirius. Yes, Remus let me have the quill again. And no, I do not whine.
About Harry, well, Remus said that we should give him space and let him open up to us on his own. But we're just really worried. The shift in his letters was so bizarre we can't help it. Before, it was as if there wasn't enough parchment to write about Hogwarts and you lot, but now, everything is just so succinct? Short, I mean? He won't say anything, but we can tell he's upset somehow. And, it bothers us that we can't help him. We, I, haven't done anything for him for the last ten years, and I'm his Godfather for ==== Merlin's sake!
What Sirius is trying to say, Ron, is that if you need someone to talk, or write to, we're here. We know that we haven't known each other for very long, but if there is any way we can help, let us know. We're just an owl away.
Just let Harry know that Remus and I are here for him. For all of you.
Keep in touch, Ron. And thank you as always for your letters.
Take care!
Sirius and Remus
It was a little past seven in the evening when Ron ran into Harry, who had just come from the Owlery. It made Ron's gut clench to see his best friend's slumped shoulders and downcast, furtive glances, but the slight smile on Harry's face told Ron that the letter he was holding close to his chest was most likely from Sirius and Remus. It was the only thing that could make him smile lately.
"Ron?" Harry blinked in surprise upon seeing the red head. "You don't have any study clubs today?"
"Professor Durand dismissed us earlier. Gives us more time to work on our bloody charts." Ron waved some sheets of parchment. "What about you? Done with Quidditch practice?"
"Cancelled. Oliver had detention because he somehow ran into Snape while arguing with Flint about field bookings."
Ron mirrored Harry's grimace. "Rotten luck, that is." But despite Harry's short nod, the relief is his green eyes was so palpable Ron couldn't help but prompt. "The Quidditch team still giving you grief about what happened?"
Harry flushed with his eyes to the floor. "Err, it's not that bad. I've had it worse back at Privet Drive with Dudley's gang. At least they're not outright pranking or making fun of me. Although, Oliver's still miffed for thinking I ought to leave the team."
Ron exhaled noisily. "Give it a bit more time, Harry. This will blow over soon and everyone will be back to normal."
"I just wish that 'soon' would come faster." Harry fidgeted with the letter in his hands. "150 points gone in one night, and it's almost the end of the year! How can I make up for all those lost points in such a short time?"
"...We'll just do what we can, I reckon." Ron pointed out. "Besides, it's not like it's completely our fault it happened."
"That's...true." Harry frowned. "I just wish I knew how Professor McGonagall found out! I know it's been days, but I still can't figure it out! It's so frustrating! Just where did we go wrong?"
The two boys had talked about this topic in length ever since they got caught that terrible night. They could clearly tell that someone tipped McGonagall off with the way she had been in the right place at the right time, as if expecting them.
The reason they got caught last time was because of Ron leaving Charlie's letter in the book that Malfoy "borrowed" from him while Ron was sick in the hospital wing. Then he tried to tip off McGonagall on Harry and Hermione, only it backfired and got him detention instead. But this time around, Malfoy left their little group alone, and Neville never mentioned the blonde arse coming to pester him while he had been sick.
Still, I'm not surprised Malfoy wouldn't try to find some way to make our lives miserable after what happened last time. Too bad for him that he's not that good at being sneaky just still leaves the question of how he and McGonagall found out about our plan though. I reckon Malfoy did hear us talk about the dragon last week in the hallway, but from the way we got caught, I'm sure he didn't go to her this time. And since I'm also sure that we never talked about Norberta outside the Common Room other than that one time, that only leaves…
It was a troubling thought that Ron hadn't shared with Harry, and one he had hoped was off the mark. Not to say that he wanted Harry to continue seeing Gryffindors as these courageous knights who can do no wrong, but if Ron was right, finding out that one of their own actually got them into trouble, and had the audacity to slink into the shadows like a cowardly rat…
"If it isn't Potter and Weasley."
Two older students were right at Harry and Ron's path, one was tawny haired, long nosed and tall while the other, a bit shorter and thinner with thick, dark hair so fluffed up it resembled a Pygmy Puff. The way they stared at him and Harry made the hairs at the back of Ron's neck stand.
"You lot need something?" Ron asked, curtly.
The taller of the two older students sneered. "Curtis and I," He gestured at the shorter wizard next to him, "Just came from the Great Hall after supper. What about you two? Still looking to lose us more House points?"
Harry flinched while Ron growled. "I don't know what you berks were expecting, but we don't make a habit of losing House points. We were just on our way to supper."
"Right, of course you were," said Curtis in such a condescending tone, Ron was hard-pressed not to start throwing hexes.
"What the hell is your—? You know what, sod off." Ron nodded at Harry. "Come on, mate. There are a couple of treacle tarts in the Hall with our names on it."
Harry made to follow after a stiff nod when the tawny haired student spoke again. "You ought to choose your mates better, Potter. Hanging out with a troublemaker like Weasley, it's not going to do you any good in the end."
Ron really wanted to keep going but Harry for some reason decided to skid into a violent halt.
"The acting like an innocent smartarse is not going to work on me, Weasley. Everyone's got you pegged for a teacher's pet, but we know better. Cut from the same cloth as those terror twins, you had to go and lose us our best chance at winning the Cup."
Now that made Ron spin around. "Is this what this is about? You don't have the balls to go after the twins, so you're going after me? Who the fu—bloody hell are you even?"
Curtis tutted. "A foul mouth phoney to boot. Really take after those two, eh, Towler?"
Towler? Ron frowned. Why does that name sound familiar?
"A bit of friendly advice from someone who has a few years ahead of you, Potter." Towler went on. "The sort like Weasley, they're the type to make you think they're all smart, funny and brilliant. But they're only like that to folks they like. Social climbers, attention seeking toerags. Just like a few folks I know."
That's it. The bastards could insult him all they wanted, but even if they could argue that the twins deserved it, no one can trash talk Ron's brothers to his face and think they can get away with it. Before Ron could move though, Harry's hand was on his wrist, clamping it down before the red head could draw his wand.
"Towler, Curtis, wasn't it?" The younger boy's tone was soft, but it had enough power to send chills down Ron's spine . "You two remind me of an unpleasant bloke I met on the train ride to Hogwarts. Said I can do better than have Ron as my friend. But I wasn't able to tell him what I really wanted to say at the time, so I'll tell you."
"What?"
"You can take your 'friendly advice' and shove it up your arse where it belongs." Harry's eyes glowed an Avada Kedavra green. "Because Ron's a better sort than you lot can ever be if you can't pick on someone your own size."
Curtis sputtered while Towler's pale face turned into an ugly shade of purplish red. "Weasley, a better sort? That idiot who dragged you around past curfew only to get caught and lose us loads of points? You're mental!"
"I was not dragged around like a bloody toy, Towler. You don't even know the whole story. You don't know anything!"
"Plenty enough to know that we're right all long." Curtis said heatedly. "Just you wait, Potter. You're going to regret being friends with that Weasley!"
It was Ron's turn to block Harry from grabbing his wand. "You know, now that you mention it, I wonder, how do you know that the reason we lost points was because of being out after curfew?"
That gave Towler pause. "Wha—? Isn't it obvious? What else could it be?"
"A load of other things. Things that could be just as likely as us staying out after curfew. But you sounded so sure a while ago." Ron's gaze sharpened. "As if you already knew."
Because be it the past or the present, while everyone knew about the lost points, no one actually knew why they had lost those points. Even years later, what all the other Lions had were mere theories. Some had been close to the truth, yes but none of them had ever spoke about their speculations with such confidence as if it were a fact.
That was, until now.
Ron heard Harry hiss, "It was you?" from over his shoulder, but he kept his gaze on Towler and Curtis, the latter looking flustered while the former, flat-faced save for his scorching brown eyes.
"Is that how you want to play it, Weasley?" Towler bit out scathingly. "Throwing accusations around because you're losing face? And wouldn't that be the right thing to do? If you really were out during curfew, it's only right that someone ought to teach you what you've done wrong."
"Right, because ratting us out to a teacher is the better way, instead of going to the Prefects first."
Curtis rolled his eyes. "The Gryffindor Prefect is your brother. We're not stupid enough to not see the bias."
Ron sneered. "But you're stupid enough to prove me right, you dumb fuck."
Curtis' face turned into a darker shade of red, and Towler's entire frame tensed, looking like a bull ready to charge. "Why, you pompous little gi—"
"What is going on here?"
Ron's eyes widened. ...Speak of the bloody devil.
Percy appeared from behind Curtis and Towler as if he apparated into view, his brows furrowed.
"W—Weasley? What are you doing here?"
"I was on my way back to the Tower, much like how you lot are supposed to." Percy eyed Ron. "Unless you haven't had your supper yet."
"No, we haven't." Ron answered Percy's unasked question. "Harry and I had our club, err, club and Quidditch, I mean. We were just on our way."
"...We were just talking." Towler answered stiffly, making Curtis nod frantically.
"Talking?" Percy raised a brow. "I did not realize that talking constituted standing in the middle of the hall, blocking the way of students barely half your size while no one else was around."
"W—We're not lying, Weasley—"
"That's Prefect Weasley to you, Thomas Curtis!"
"—Prefect Weasley. We're just...talking. It's not like we have our wands drawn or anything."
"Then from what I can tell, this...conversation is already over, correct?"
Curtis and Towler traded glances before nodding and turning away without a word. The two were a good distance away when Percy called again. "One more thing."
The pair paused but only Curtis turned around again.
"If you have a problem with Fred and George, then take it up to Fred and George." Percy clapped a hand on Ron's shoulder, his words cold enough to freeze Fiendfyre. "And not on our little brother or on any of his friends instead."
Ron felt his cheeks heat up, equally embarrassed and touched at Percy's unexpected gesture.
"...Are you threatening us, Prefect Weasley?"
"Of course not." Percy pushed his glasses up his nose. "Just friendly advice, is all."
Towler's jaw shut with an audible click before he and Curtis continued their walk back to Gryffindor Tower, and it was after they were out of earshot that Ron let himself relax. "Thanks, Percy."
Percy exhaled with an audible sigh. "Really, what is it with you getting into such troublesome situations? Are you trying to prove Charlie right?"
"Oi, we were minding our own business! They're the ones who suddenly went all up in our faces acting like massive gits!"
"Language, Ron." Percy sighed, looking tired. "And I'm not saying that it was your fault. Just that trouble seems to find you so easily."
"Sorry about that," said Harry. The Prefect shook his head in response. "It's only right for a Prefect to step in on such situations. Anyway, is it all right for me to talk with Ron for a bit? It won't take too long."
Ron raised a confused brow while Harry nodded. "I'll see you in the Great Hall then."
He watched Harry move a good distance away before turning to Percy. "If you're here to finally scold me after weeks of holding it in, can you not? I've already heard of how stupid I've been from everyone else so many times now."
Percy looked taken aback. "You thought I wanted to talk to you just because of that?"
"...You mean, you weren't going to?" Percy's expression morphed into something so blatantly hurt that it made Ron's gut twist. "S-Sorry, I didn't mean to—"
"Don't be. I suppose it's my fault you'd make that assumption, and to be honest, I had a half-mind to."
The hesitant pause in the end poked at Ron's curiosity. "Why didn't you?"
Percy removed his glasses to massage his nose bridge. "You're right, for one thing. I've seen you getting so much flak from not just the Gryffindors, but also the other Houses. Too much flak, if you ask me. I've come to realize that adding to that would be counterproductive. Also," he cleared his throat. "It's...I can understand the frustration, but taking it out on you is utterly ridiculous!"
"Losing a hundred fifty points is ridiculous too."
"And treating you like a pariah is helping the situation,how exactly? Besides, all that talk about you being a troublemaker or a bighead is honestly getting on our nerves! You're a lot of things, Ronnie, but you're not the type to get into trouble just because!"
"...So you're not angry?"
"I'm troubled by the lost points and putting our chance of winning the House Cup in jeopardy, yes. But angry? Preposterous!" Percy put his glasses back on. "I'd rather spend my time winning whatever points I can before the finals instead of all but outright bullying three children who made a mistake!"
Ron couldn't deny the warm bubbling of hope stirring in his chest. "But you've been avoiding me all this time. You, Fred and George."
Percy's face twisted in disbelief. "Avoiding you? You're not around enough for us to even try to! Even the twins barely have an idea where you are, and they practically have eyes and ears all over the school, for some reason!"
Now that Ron thought about it, he had been keeping himself busy, leaving the Tower only to have meals, attend classes and study in the Library, Room of Requirement or the clubs until it was time to return and sleep, barely talking to anyone but his friends.
Instead of his brothers avoiding him, maybe it had been the other way around? Didn't Harry mention before that the twins were some of the few Gryffindors other than Neville who hadn't been giving him a hard time?
"Looks like I was worried for nothing." A shite eating grin glowed on Ron's face. "Thanks, Percy. I'll go look for the twins later."
"You'd better. Last I heard, those two were becoming desperate enough to plan an ambush just to get a hold of you."
I imagine they've been trying to look for me with the map. But since I've been in the Room of Requirement a lot, they wouldn't have been able to find me easily. Ron then remembered to ask. "You said something about Towler and Curtis having something against the twins earlier?"
Percy's slight smile fell. "Ah, that's...quite a story. Towler and Curtis are in the same year as Fred and George, and truth be told, they actually got on pretty well at first. But as time went on, they drifted apart, and the pranks the twins would pull—some of which involved Towler and Curtis, I'm sure—didn't help matters."
"Fred and George can go a bit too far with their jokes…"
"But I don't think it's just about that. I'd go as far as to wager that a huge part of it is because..." Percy adjusted his glasses again. "Anyway, whatever their reasons, that doesn't give them the right to take their anger out on you or your friends."
"I wish I knew what brought that on. I don't even know the bloke, let alone actually talked to him or anything." It was even stranger that in the past, Ron barely remembered Towler or Curtis, since they left him alone throughout his Hogwarts years. What caused that to change?
Fucking time travel and its fucking ripple effect bollocks.
"I shouldn't keep you any longer though, Ron. You still haven't had supper, right?"
Ron nodded. "You going up the Tower now?"
"After a quick trip to the library." Percy ruffled Ron's hair. "Don't let those lost points get you down so much. And let me know if those two try to stir trouble again."
"Only if you promise not to let the twins know about it." Ron rolled his eyes at Percy's disapproving look. "You said it yourself, they haven't been getting along for a while now. We don't need to make it worse. Or give the twins an excuse to."
"You know they'll be furious if they find out I didn't tell them about this."
Ron waved his hand. "Come off it. Besides, I can handle those two."
Percy sighed. "Fine. But you will tell me if they start bothering you again."
"...All right, all right. Merlin, you're starting to sound just like Mum!"
Dear Sirius and Remus,
Thanks for the birthday gifts. The coin purse was a treat enough, but the money for a new pet really took the cake for me! I'm not really looking into getting a new one at the moment, but I know how to put it to good use.
I'm glad Sirius' rehabilitation is going well, although I'm not surprised that Sirius is becoming known for both being a cranky patient andis charming the mediwitches. He comes off as the type. I mean it in a good way, though, Sirius.
You also mentioned that you noticed Harry coming off as odd in your recent letters from him. He's fine for the most part, but something happened that made us lose loads of house points and getting detention. I can't give you the details, but it's not because we were up to any mischief on purpose. I swear. It's a bit complicated, but it was for a good cause.
Problem is, besides getting caught, the other Gryffindors are frankly being arses about the whole thing. I get that winning the Cup is important, but just because we lost some points doesn't give them the right to treat us like shite, I reckon. Still, Harry's taking what's happened really to heart , but there's more to it than just us not getting the Cup.
Anyway, hope to hear from you soon! And hope Sirius' recovery goes smoothly.
Write to you soon!
Ron
PS: I don't know if it's right for me to tell you all that. It's just that I don't want to see Harry so down anymore. I don't think there's anything more I can do, but if anyone can help him through this, make him believe that it'll be OK, I'll bet all my money it'll be you two. I've seen how Harry was with you, and you're probably the closest thing to a real family he's ever had.
The hour of detention was nigh.
Ron stood waiting by the castle entrance with Harry, Hermione, Malfoy and a Filch, who was grinning from ear to ear, eyes glinting maliciously under the light of his rusty lamp.
"You kids are gonna get it now," sneered the vile caretaker. "Detention in the Forest. Gonna be a good night for you little ruffians. See if one night with the beasts doesn't scare the devil outta you."
Malfoy, who had been giving the group a wide berth since he arrived, paled noticeably. "B—beasts?!"
Filch laughed. "Wouldn't you naughty brats want to know?"
"You can't be serious! Why the—who in their right minds would send children in the Forbidden Forest! I'll make sure my Father hears all about this!"
Oh for fuck's sake. Ron rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation. Yes, the Forbidden Forest is a dangerous place, but how is freaking out like a cat in water supposed to help?
Not that he doesn't have a point. A group of children, serving detention in a forest full of classified dangerous creatures that could snap us in half? Is being caught after curfew so bad it's punishable by death?
"Hagrid?" Ron heard Harry call out in surprise when the half-giant came into view, Fang right next to him.
Filch snorted. "Don't get too comfortable, Potter. You're still in detention."
"Right enough o' that nonsense," rebuked Hagrid gruffly. "You kids follow me."
Malfoy sneered in distaste at the sight of Hagrid but followed the group into the forest, cutting through the thick fog with their lamps in silence until Hermione spoke.
"What do we need to do here, Hagrid?"
"A little bit o' investigatin'," answered the half-giant. "Somethin' been goin' after the unicorns. We gonna try ter find out what."
"Go after the unicorns?" Harry repeated. "As in hunting them?"
"And drainin' 'em dry. Suckin' out all the blood."
"Like a vampire?"
Hagrid shook his head. "'Ey're bloodthirsty, right foul gits, but even they won' drink unicorn blood. Doing that's gon' curse ye fer life, and vamps got a lo' o' years in 'em. You oughtta be stupid and desperate ter—" Hagrid held out a hand. "Hol' up."
A trail of luminous, silver liquid splashed before the group's feet.
"Unicorn blood." Hagrid said grimly. "Right, we're splitting ter two teams. Two of ye will be with me, other two will be with Fang. Any o' you see anythin' wrong, you send sparks up with yer wand ter let the other team know." Hagrid eyed each of them sharply. "So no funny business and no splittin' from yer group! And stick ter the path!"
"Then I want the dog!" Malfoy declared loudly. "You can have Granger! Lot of good she'll do!"
Hermione flinched, making Ron step in front of her. "Well if you want the scaredy dog so bad, have at it. Least he's got bigger balls than you, Malfoy."
Malfoy made a strangled cry of protest but Hagrid boomed over him. "Break it up, ye lot. Harry, Malfoy, you be with Fang. I'll take Hermione and Ron. Remember ta stick to the path, ye hear me?"
"We're not daft. You only said it a thousand times," answered Ron. "Let's just get this stupid detention over with."
Hagrid's face appeared troubled, but Ron could care less as he and Hermione followed him deeper into the forest. He fully expected the detention to be mostly uneventful on his end, after all. Once Harry had had his run-in with Quirrell and the centaurs, Ron was looking forward to going back to bed then proceed with his plans.
Then he caught sight of Hermione fidgeting with her scarf. He cleared his throat. "You all right, Hermione?"
Hermione's eyes widened in apparent surprise before attempting to smile. "Of course, Ron. Everything's fine."
"Really?" Ron studied her furrowed brows and crooked smile before raising a brow. "Want to run that by me again?"
Hermione's face fell. "Ah, it's not—it shouldn't be a big deal. Harry's getting the worst of it, I'm sure."
"Are the other Gryffindors still being dumbarses?"
"...It's not that bad."
If Ron had a knut for every time he heard that bull… "I'll be the judge of that."
Hermione bit her lip. "Everyone, well almost everyone's been avoiding me. No one, other than you, Harry and Neville want to sit next to me during classes and meals. And then there are others who'd talk behind my back, although I'm fairly certain they know I could hear them."
"Even the ones from your dorm?"
The bushy haired girl shook her head. "Oh no, they've actually been...all right? They just stay away from me when we're outside. It's a bit disappointing but I can understand." Hermione's lips trembled. "It's just so...frustrating, to think that our house mates could turn against us like this! Aren't they supposed to be our home away from home? Like a second family? Because as far as I know, families don't treat each other like shite!"
Is it a testament to how upset Hermione was that she was actually swearing right now? Or proof of Ron being a bad influence? The red head pushed the stray musing aside. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I wish I could say all the Lions have each other's backs, but frankly I've been getting more encouragement from people outside the Tower."
"Me too! Sue's been absolutely lovely! Joining the Arithmancy Study Club was the best decision I have made this year, thanks to you two!"
Ron expected that to be the case. While it was a stretch to say that all of the Study Club members had been understanding, the ones that mattered to Ron ranged from encouraging and sympathetic, like Sue, Penelope and Cedric, to neutral, like the Slytherins (though Greengrass did give him a number of disapproving quips, and Pucey openly expressed his disappointment in a way that made Ron feel like the worst scum of the earth).
"And that's it. I can't say that this will be the last time we could turn others against us, or that we'll have the other Gryffindors' support next time it happens. What I can promise is that you have us, Hermione. Me, Harry, Neville. Even when it feels like the whole House or even Hogwarts is against you."
Hermione locked eyes with him. "Do you mean that?"
"We trashed a troll together. Like it or not, you're stuck with me until the very end. So don't go taking on trolls by yourself." Before he could think the better of it, Ron pulled her into a one-armed hug. "No matter what, we're with you. All the bloody way."
"Oh I won't be going after any trolls ever again. You can count on that." Hermione let out a watery laugh despite her glittering eyes and flushed cheeks. "I don't know what you see in me, Ron, but I'm really lucky to have a friend like you."
It was Ron's turn to stare. "Really? So I'm more than just a six-foot-tall ginger idiot?"
"You're not six feet tall."
"Yet, but who knows?"
"You can still be a bit daft and a boy," Hermione rolled her eyes at the last word. "But you're much nicer and more sensitive than most." She raised a brow. "Has anyone ever told you, that you act mature for your age?"
Ron shrugged again. "Not that I remember."
"I find that hard to believe. Then again, you're always selling yourself short for some reason," said Hermione. "But still, I mean it. You're a really good friend, and I'm glad you're ours."
The way she smiled at him, showing a bit of her buck teeth, looking soft, shy and sure at the same time, warmed Ron's chest with the familiar touch of affection. He never understood why Hermione always said her teeth made her look so ugly. He always found it made her cute in a unique Hermione-like way, especially when she smiled.
But before he could say something else, his ears perked up.
A trill. High pitched. Melodic. Echoing.
"Wait!" Ron's sudden shout made his companions stop. "What was that?"
Hagrid and Hermione traded unsure glances. Hagrid shook his head. "Ye hear somethin'?"
"Don't you?" Ron turned around. "That sound. Over there somewhere. It's—it's like music!"
"Music?" Hermione echoed.
"Like a song. Like someone singing." Ron strained his ears to listen.
Trilling. Ringing. Echoing. Calling.
"Can't you hear it, really?" He furrowed his brows. "It sounds...familiar."
"...Ron, I don't think we…" But before Hermione could finish, Ron broke into a run. "Wha—? Ron! Ron, wait!"
"Ron, get back 'ere!"
But the boy ran forward, blocking out Hermione's and Hagrid's calls in favor of that song.
I swear to Merlin it's close. I can hear it clearer now. Whoever—whatever—it is, it's close. Where is it?
A song. A trill. A call. Echoing against his footfalls to the earth.
A voice. A child's voice. Bouncing around the tall, dark trees and swirling in the chilly, grass scented air.
"Ron!"
"Ron! Ron, come back—"
But he carried on running, guided only by his ears, as the melody grew louder and clearer.
It's getting closer. I can barely see with this old lamp, but I can feel it somehow. Maybe I should throw this away and use my wand…Ron clicked his tongue in dismissal. Bad idea. I need my wand free just in case something attacks me. But where is that sound coming from? What's making it? Where is it? Where are you?
"Hah!"
To the right? Ron's heels skidded to a halt, turning around.
Blue eyes met gold, and Ron blinked twice to be sure of what he was seeing, because it was honestly one of the most surreal things he had seen in this second life.
Several feet away, against the shadow blanketed tree, right underneath the moonlight peeking past the swaying pine leaves, was what appeared to be a boy with the lightest blond hair Ron had ever seen, even brighter in comparison to the child's faded white and yellow robes. Ron couldn't see it clearly, but it looked like there were marks of light reds and purples littering the luminous pale skin.
But what is a boy doing here? Not a student, definitely. I can't tell what he's wearing exactly, but I'm sure they're not Hogwarts robes. Ron shook his head. Never mind that now!
"Oi! You!" Ron called out to the child, who had stiffened and pressed himself against the tree, seemingly holding his side. "Hey, easy. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help."
But the boy was starting to frantically attempt to crawl (drag) himself away, looking so awfully pathetic with the way he was holding his side, that Ron decided to slow his pace in an attempt to not scare the child further.
"Hey, hey, it's OK. I swear I'm not going to hurt you. Look, see," he held his hands up. "I'm not holding anything. I just want to help."
Those golden eyes pinned him for what felt like an eternity before the boy spoke. "Who...are you?"
"Ron." He tried to keep his voice as soothing as possible. "Ron Weasley. I'm a student here at Hogwarts."
"Hog...warts…" The boy blinked, expression pensive. "Hogwarts? Is this...the safe place?"
"...I don't...know what you mean about that. But Hogwarts is definitely safer than this forest." Ron held out his hand. "Come on. I have some other friends with me. We can help—"
But the boy's eyes widened. "LOOK OUT!"
"Wha—?" Wind rushed in his ears, and Ron instinctively jumped back in time to avoid something hard falling from above where his head was.
Good thing I didn't use my wand for that Lumos. Ron whipped it out while holding his lamp aloft, shining the light on long, hairy, jointed limbs...
"DEPULSO!" He roared with a sharp stab of his wand, sending a powerful blast of white straight onto the looming Acromantula dangerously close in front of him. Wicked! Having a wrist wand holster sure is handy! I need to remember to thank the Lovegoods properly when I see them again.
The huge spider let out a screech as the force of the spell sent it flying a few feet back. It was a disturbing sight that would have once turned him into a quaking mess, but not anymore.
"REDUCTO! DEPRIMO!" Ron flung spells at the monstrous spider, repeating through the offensive spells he knew while keeping an eye out for Hagrid and Hermione.
Come on, where are they? Did I really run too far away? What's taking them so long?
Another screech. The boy behind him let out a gasp. Ron's gaze hardened with determination.
"CONFRINGO! REDUCTO!" Thank Merlin Ron was able to make Charlie's old wand work again somewhat. With the continuous barrage of spells, the Acromantula was backing away steadily, shrieking all the while, until it finally lifted its huge body and scuttled away.
Should I have used Diffindo to cut the legs? No, I wouldn't be able to know for sure if my Diffindo is strong enough to. My spells looked like they hurt, but from the way that thing just got away, it looked like it didn't do much damage—
BOOM!
The sky lit up with red sparks a good distance away from Ron, making his gut clench.
Harry and Malfoy!
"RON!" The red head saw Hermione and Hagrid rushing up to him, the former breathing harshly and looking especially cross.
"RON! YOU ABSOLUTELY DAFT—! WHY DID YOU RUN OFF LIKE THAT?!" Hermione screamed so shrilly,Ron barely held himself back from covering his ears.
"S—Sorry, Hermione. But it was the right call! There was a boy there, hurt by the looks of it. We need to get him back to Hogwarts!"
"Boy?" Hermione's brows furrowed. "What boy?"
"That blond over—what?" Ron did a double take. When he turned to look for the boy again, there was no one else but him, Hermione and Hagrid. "Where did he go?"
"'o ye talkin' bout?" Hagrid scratched his head. "When we came 'ere, yer were all by yerself. But I saw you flingin' spells at somethin' earlier. What was it?"
"An ac—a huge spider thing. More of a monster really." Ron pretended to shudder. "But it's gone now."
"A spider, eh?" Hagrid cleared his throat, looking so painfully guilty that Ron looked away. "Err, anyway, since yer fine, reckon we go get Harry. Don' really like leavin' him 'lone with that Malfoy."
"But…" Ron let out a frustrated sigh. "Right, let's go."
I don't know what happened, but I know what I saw. Wherever that boy is, I hope he's OK.
Dear Ronnie,
That's sad news. I hope you, Harry and Hermione feel better soon. I can only imagine how dreadful things must be after losing that much points! Are your Housemates treating you better lately? Percy and the twins better not be giving you lot a hard time! I bet Fred and George lost loads more than you three have combined!
I don't think Mum and Dad know about what happened yet. Or at least, I haven't heard Mum try and send you a Howler. I'm surprised Percy hasn't written to her about it, but I reckon we ought to count our blessings.
It's rather boring being alone in the Burrow with just Mum and Errol. I can't believe I'm writing this, but I'm actually wishing for the Gnomes to show up more often, just so I have something more to do. Other than cooking and knitting, I mean. I like doing them as much as the next witch, but not all day! I'd rather fly, if Mum would let me, but it doesn't feel the same anymore when I'm by myself. I hope we get to fly again soon, and maybe someday, not have to do it behind Mum's back.
The Fawcetts will be gone all week, something about a trip to France. Maybe they're considering sending Flor and Fina to Beaubaxtons? I hope not. I'll miss having them around. Luna, probably more so, since she's closer to them than I am. It would be nice to have more friends in Hogwarts from the neighborhood, like you and Cedric. You might want to be careful, though. Our big brothers might think you're considering replacing one of them.
Don't let those lost House points bother you so much, Ronnie. I'm sure you will be able to get them back. I don't know why you thought of staying out during curfew, but I know you had a good reason for it. I just wish you'd be more careful. After what happened with that bad man who was Scabbers, I think Mum and Dad are still worried about you. I am too, so please take care, OK?
Hope you write back soon.
Love,
Ginny
This has been such a tiring week...
Ron took a deep breath of the fresh morning air after taking a break from his morning jog. It was finally the weekend, the second to the last one before the finals. And as much as Ron knew studying was important, he also wanted to take all the breaks he could. Especially since he hadn't been getting as much sleep as he used to for several reasons.
Aside from studying for the exams, there were Harry's nightmares, and Ron's own preoccupation with the boy he had met in the forest. After coming back from detention , Harry was plagued by dreams of what he had seen: a hooded Voldemort, hovering over a still unicorn, drinking its blood. Malfoy had shot the sparks in a panic before running off with Fang. Thank Merlin Firenze had come for Harry this time around too!
But since exams were drawing closer, their little group had to shift their attention to last minute readings, rushing through the last of their homework and earning whatever points they can for the Gryffindors. Ron, however, had more to do than just studying and counting the days until summer.
Only another week left before the finals, and by the end of that, Quirrell will make his move since Dumbledore was supposedly summoned by the Minister. Although, I wouldn't be surprised if that was set up by Quirrell too, thought Ron. So, if I want to stop Harry, Hermione and Neville from going through the traps, I can cut right to the chase and point to Quirrell as Voldemort's pawn.
Ron had come to that decision by the time he had returned to the forest, the encounter with Firenze having encouraged him that the plan he had in mind was as good as it sounded in his head. It was a bit unnerving since he had never talked much with them before, but Firenze, despite being a bit of an oddball, was one of the kinder centaurs.
Also his cryptic words left a cold feeling in his gut, and not just because of their ambiguousness.
"Well met, ye favored by Death and blessed by the storm."
"What?" A chilled sweat dripped down Ron's spine, causing him to glance around to check if anyone was listening. After seeing that everyone was distracted by Harry's safe return, he sent a furtive glance at the calm Firenze. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"I know who you are. To be precise, what you are," said Firenze. "Your coming to this world has been mapped in our stars. The duality of your magic, your very soul, bright yet fleeting as a shooting star. And the burden of the destiny you must bear."
It bothered Ron a lot, the mystified way Firenze mentioned his coming to the world, as if he was some sort of hero or chosen one. That's Harry's job, not his! But at least Firenze's parting words gave Ron some confidence in his plan. Now he just had to find the right timing.
But when should he…?
Tweet. Tweet. Tweet.
"Wha—?" Hearing birdcalls wasn't unusual during his early morning run, but there was something about this one that made Ron stop. The cry was unusually loud, obviously very close to where he stood.
And it sounds...hurt. The red head cautiously made its way to what was seemingly the source, a thick, gnarled dark tree, the biggest of the trees overlooking the lake. Peering over the edge of the thick trunk, Ron raised a perplexed brow. "A bird?"
Not an ordinary bird, Ron could immediately tell. It was as big as one of Hagrid's roosters but with a matted, dirty white and gold plumage flecked with mud and blood. It was curled up in such a pathetic way, its tittering resembling a whine, that it made Ron think of a sick, crying child.
Is this one of Hagrid's pets? Maybe not. I'd definitely remember seeing something like this if he had. Maybe it came from the Forest? Ron tried to approach the creature, but had to step back when the bird's eyes—golden enough to rival the sun—flew open as it let out a shriek. "Oi, easy there. I'm not going to hurt you. You look beaten up enough already." Ron raised his hands. "I'm just here to help, see? No wands."
He was prepared for the bird to remain defensive, but for some reason, the creature's tense frame relaxed, dropping its head back on the grass with a soft croon.
"Err, does that mean it's OK for me to come closer? You want me to help you?"
The bird let out a few trills, sounding more tired with each one it made.
O...k. Maybe it's because it's that out of energy to fight back. Ron surmised with a grim frown. And that's not a good thing. How hurt is it?
"I'll just check you over, all right? Just relax." He grimaced. "As much as you can, anyway."
Since Ron wasn't confident that he could do the diagnostic spell right even after Hermione all but drilled it into his and Harry's heads during the Horcrux hunt (and he wasn't sure if it would work on animals anyway), the boy did a visual inspection from what he could remember from the Care of Magical Creatures lessons with Hagrid.
Some nicks and bruises here and there, but the real problem are the wounds on its side. It even looks like there's something wrong with its wing. Ron's frown deepened. This wasn't something he could treat on his own with his limited magical creature knowledge. "OK, it looks like you're hurt really bad. I'll get you to someone who can help you out."
To Ron's shock, the bird had seemingly awakened with renewed vigor and squawked indignantly, flapping its weak wings like there was no tomorrow.
"Ow! What the bloody—? Oi, stop it! You're already badly hurt! What's gotten into you?!"
The bird however just kept squawking and screeching to the point of hurting Ron's eardrums as he tried to figure out if he did something wrong. The bird was actually pretty docile while he was handling it, so it couldn't be because he touched something bad or made the pain worse...
"...Wait, are you mad because I mentioned I'll bring you to someone else?" Ron couldn't help but standing there in amazement when the creature actually stopped and glared as if saying, "Yes, finally, you get it you dimwit.."
Holy shite, I know I was talking to it earlier, but I didn't think…! There's no way it could actually… "You can...understand me?"
Was it him or did the bird actually roll its eyes? Could birds really do that?! This just keeps getting stranger and stranger!
Ron had to slap himself to get his focus back. "Look, I really want to help you, but...I'm no Magizoologist or an animal healer. I have a friend who might be able to do something about these injuries, but I have to take you to…"
There was an angry squawk again, and this time Ron definitely felt that it said "I don't care, I said NO!"
"Even if you could die if I don't take you to him?"
Another angry noise made Ron exhale noisily. Oh Merlin, and I thought Harry was stubborn!
"All right, all right, I won't take you to him. But I need to take you somewhere! And we need to get these wounds treated too!" Ron held his hands out. "Can you at least trust me?"
The bird's eyes looked as if it were staring into the very depths of his soul, but Ron held his ground until the creature crooned again while seemingly tilting its head at him.
"Well, if you don't want anyone else to see you, you have to let me take you somewhere quickly before the rest of the school wakes up." Ron felt his tense body loosen when the injured creature drooped its head and allowed the wizard to pick him up.
"Since you want to be stuck with me for some reason, I guess I have to make sure you've trusted the right wizard, at least." Ron didn't know for sure if he made the right decision, but anything was better than letting it die. What was with him running into folks in need of help lately?
First, that boy, and now this...whatever this is. I wasn't able to do anything about that child, but at least I'll be able to help this one. But where can I bring this bird if it doesn't want to go to Hagrid's? Come on, Ron, think! What does it need? A quiet place where it can rest and heal up. Would be nice if there were healing stuff I can use to wrap these injuries, and whatever else I could...need…
"I think I know just where to take you."
Well, that was pretty long, wasn't it? Is it a fair trade considering how long you had tow wait for this?
Getting closer to the homestretch now. And more OCs! What joy!
If you liked the chapter, please leave a kudo/review/follow/favorite, and hoping for your patience as I work on the next chapter.
Stay safe!
UP NEXT:
Ron's picked up a new friend(?) in the middle of finalizing his plans with Quirrell. But what is the plan exactly? Will it really stop Harry from going through the trials and meeting Voldie?
Have you ever heard of the term, "fixed points in time?"
(Wait, did I just spoil the next chapter? Chuchi bad! XD)
