Facing Reality
Ronald Weasley was tightly gripping the highly polished handle of his broomstick, a Whirlwind 250, the very latest in sprinting brooms. Known for quick acceleration and fast breaking, this broom was highly sought after by even the most professional Keepers in Quidditch. And yet, here was Ron, sitting on one of his very own. His poise was one of determination and focus. Leaning forward, he narrowed his blue eyes and tucked his legs behind him. He was alert and attentive; all senses tuned to the game unfolding before him—he would miss nothing.
Ron had a presence on his broom that could not be matched by any of his other teammates. Certainly, he had excellent balance, but there was something more. It was as if he had a connection with the broom. When he was flying it was almost as though he was one with the broom. At times, it even appeared as though Ron was the one holding up the broom instead of vice versa. But the biggest factor was that Ron had confidence. He knew he was excellent at flying and it was this supreme confidence that made his teammates envious.
As he darted between the three grand hoops wind rushed through his flaming red hair and his Quidditch robes flared out behind him in a menacing way, as though they were saying, 'Just try and get past me.' And nothing would. Currently, he was the best rookie Keeper the national Quidditch leagues had ever seen and he knew it. It wouldn't be long until he would finally get to step into the limelight he deserved.
The Quaffle was a red blur hurtling between the Chasers and Ron's gaze was locked on it. Occasionally, it hurtled toward him and he would dive and soar to stop it from passing through a golden hoop. Not once did it go through and the crowd roared at his impressive saves. Ron basked in this glory. Every time the crowd cheered for him, confidence surged through his veins.
The game was going well, and Ron's team was winning. Thanks to him. Nearly one hundred points into the game, however, Ron nearly lost his head to a Bludger, such was his focus on the red Quaffle. He ducked at the last moment and Fred zoomed up next to him, his bat held at bay in case the Bludger decided to make a second attack.
"Watch yourself, Ickle Ronniekins," Fred said with a characteristic grin, "Wouldn't want to lose your spotlight too soon, would you?"
"Wouldn't want to disappoint your fans," piped in George who was suddenly at Ron's side. Ron swiveled his head in confusion. Where had they come from? And why were they here? They weren't on his Quidditch team… were they? Wait… What?
"Or your girlfriend," finished Fred.
Girlfriend? What were they on about? Surely they didn't mean Lavender?
"Girlfriend?" Ron asked quizzically.
"'Girlfriend?' he asks!" Fred snorted, "Really, Ron, come on. Didn't you know?"
"You're more out of the loop than we thought," said George with a snicker. "Ha ha, 'Out of the loop' geddit, Fred?"
"I think he's got too much Quidditch on the brain," Fred said knowingly to his twin with a wink. He looked back at his youngest brother, "It's the latest news, Ron, you've got a girlfriend. About time, I'd say."
"What? What are you two on about? Wouldn't I know if I had a girlfriend? Is this some joke? If it is, it's not funny!"Ron nearly shouted.
"Ron, Ron, you have so much to learn," said George, shaking his head, tutting.
"Well then if I have a girlfriend who is it?" demanded Ron, who was now considerably red in the face.
"Her—," Fred was pointing into the crowd somewhere and Ron turned his head to follow Fred's finger just in time to see a red blur soar through one of the golden hoops. The crowd gasped audibly.
For several long moments, Ron stared in horror at the hoop in which the Quaffle had passed through. Finally, he whipped around to glare at his brothers, "Look at what you've done!!" he shouted. "I'll… I'll…I'll kill you!!" He hurtled at Fred and George, who deftly dove out of the way. Ron swiveled his head around to looking at Fred, then George (or was it George, then Fred?) trying to decide which to follow. That was always the problem. There were two of them. And they were identical.
They grinned.
There was another gasp from the crowd and Ron swung around to see a Quaffle pass through another hoop.
Oh yeah. The game.
Ron shot another death glare at Fred and George who covered their mouths and gasped in mock horror. Then they ducked their heads, sniggering.
"You… you missed another one! How? How could you? We're no longer one hundred points ahead of them! How dare you let that happen?!" Fred cried with a dramatic swing of an arm to his forehead. "I can't bear to watch…"
"Oh, sod off!" snarled Ron. With one last glare and a rude gesture, he flew back to his post as Keeper, thoroughly miffed.
"Oh, look! Roonil Wazlib is showing some very unprofessional behavior on the pitch… Interesting…" projected a familiar dreamy voice over the Quidditch stadium.
Roonil Wazlib? Where had he heard that before? It was vaguely familiar… Something to do with potions and a quill… or something… And why was Luna Lovegood commentating this very professional Quidditch match… and since when…?
"It seems he is coming down with a nasty case of spattergroit as well…"
Ron glanced down at his freckled arms. With the way this day was turning out, he half expected to actually see giant welts sprouting over his body, however, his arms looked perfectly normal. At least something was going right. Ron frowned. It occurred to him that this was not the first time his freckles had been confused with spattergroit. They didn't even look similar!
"JUST FOR THE RECORD," he shouted to no one in particular, "THEY'RE FRECKLES!"
In his distraction, Ron very nearly missed another Quaffle, but dove and saved the goal in just the nick of time.
"Roonil appears to be getting very flustered…"
"STOP CALLING ME ROONIL!" Ron roared at the commentator booth, shaking his anti-spattergroited fist, "AND I'M NOT FLUSTERED!"
Right. Well. Maybe just a little…
Another Quaffle soared through a hoop and a chorus of "Weasley is our King" erupted from somewhere in the crowd.
"SHUT UP!"
Quaffle after Quaffle soared past him. Just when Ron caught one, another one passed through another hoop on the opposite side of the goal. Wait. If he was holding a Quaffle in one hand, and another had just gone through that hoop… What was going on?? The moment he made this realization, he turned to face the open pitch and saw there were hundreds of Quaffles hurtling towards him. Too many. He attempted to block as many as he could, but the majority of the Quaffles were soaring through the hoops anyway.
"Bloody hell?" he shouted. "This isn't fair!"
The entire crowd was now chanting 'Weasley is our King' like a broken record that seemed to increase in volume until it was all Ron could hear, pulsing and deep and high all at the same time.
"Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He always lets the Quaffle in,
Weasley is our King."
The Quaffles were increasing in such numbers and speed that Ron gave up trying to stop them and put his arms over his head to stop from being pummeled to death.
"YYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!" he yelled.
The Quaffles knocked him from his broom and he felt himself plummeting to his demise…
"RON!" someone was shouting.
Well, at least they recognized his real name…
"RONALD WEASLEY! WAKE UP!"
There was suddenly a very real shooting pain in his arm and Ron thrashed and sat up with a start.
"WAZZAT?? Where am I? What's going on? Am I alive? Where'd Fred and George go? I'ma slaughter them…" his chest heaved with quickened breaths and he looked wildly around his cramped room in confusion only to find his younger sister standing over him with her hand balled into a fist, ready to punch him again if she needed to. "Oh… Ginny?" Ron said as realization began to dawn on him. He rubbed his arm where she had hit him. "That hurt…"
"Good. You were yelling and disrupting the peacefulness of the Weasley household…" Ginny snorted and folded her arms over her chest. "I could hear you all the way from the third floor. You ought to be more careful of that…if Mum caught you napping instead of cleaning…"
Ron looked at Ginny sheepishly. "How much was I yelling?"
"Loads," She said with a grin that could rival Fred or George's, "I was beginning to think you'd been attacked by the ghoul. You must have rather interesting dreams. Anyhow, come downstairs. We have a guest."
"Another guest?" Ron said, standing and attempting to flatten his sleep-tousled hair. "I didn't know we were expecting anyone. Why has our house suddenly become headquarters for everything? As if Mum isn't already having kittens…"
"We weren't expecting anyone," Ginny said, starting out the door. "But I don't think you'll complain," she added knowingly.
Ron followed Ginny down the many flights of stairs that indicated The Burrow was taller than it was wide. He was puzzled. Why had Ginny made that comment, as though she knew something he didn't? He chewed on this thought all the way down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he found his mother embracing a young person with a very familiar head of bushy brown hair…
"Hermione!"
Instantly, Ron's pulse raced at the sight of one of his best friends and he realized he was happier to see her than he would have expected. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his side as Ginny jabbed her elbow into his ribs. He quickly realized why. What he had originally thought to be a welcoming embrace by his mother turned out to be a much more intimate moment. Hermione was crying and his mother was comforting her. Mrs. Weasley shot her son a fierce gaze over Hermione's shaking shoulders.
"Er… sorry… we'll just… go in the other room…" Ron muttered, he and Ginny scuttling awkwardly out of the room.
"What do you suppose that was all about?" Ron asked as he plopped down on a worn but comfortable sofa in the sitting room.
Ginny shot her brother glare that rivaled her mother's. "Don't be such a git, Ron."
"Well how was I supposed to know she was crying? She had her back to me!"
Ginny gave her brother another disgusted look and didn't answer him.
Ron sat back with a huff and his arms crossed. He gazed around the room glumly. As far as he was concerned, girls were a complete mystery. He could never figure out what made them tick. So he'd made a mistake. How could anyone expect him to figure out that someone was crying when their back was turned to him? How had Ginny known? He made a mental note to perhaps ask her later, when she wasn't so miffed at him.
The room filled with a heavy silence and Ron's thoughts drifted to something else… the looming and ominous black cloud that hung over his head. Though it had been in the back of his mind ever since he had come home for the summer, seeing Hermione brought back the flooding and rather unwelcome memories of Horcruxes and killing You-Know-Who. He hadn't realized how much he had avoided thinking about it until now. With that, he also realized that he had not told anyone about their plans of not returning to Hogwarts. He swallowed. Mum would not approve…
But first, why was Hermione crying? Come to think of it, he had rarely seen Hermione cry. What would make Hermione cry? He wondered if it was because she wouldn't be going back to Hogwarts. At least, that had been the last plan he'd heard about. There was a doubt in the back of his mind though, that she wouldn't really do it. Was she really capable of skipping an entire year of school?
A tear stained Hermione entered the sitting room. She smiled weakly at Ron and Ginny.
"Hey," she said simply.
"Is everything alright, Hermione?" Ginny asked gently.
Hermione nodded, "Yes… I just… I don't know what came over me, I saw your Mum and I just lost it. She's such a sweet woman…"
"Why would seeing Mum make you cry?" Ron made a face. "I know she's frazzled with the wedding and all but I didn't think she looked that bad…"
"Ron!" Ginny cried but Hermione actually smiled and let out a little chuckle.
Hermione shook her head. "No, it's not that. It's just that…" she took a deep breath and continued, "I sent my parent's off to Australia today. I had to alter their memories and they don't even know they have a daughter named Hermione anymore. They don't even know their own names." Her voice cracked. "It's hard…" she whispered.
Ron and Ginny exchanged startled looks. "Why would you do that?" Ginny asked.
"Well… with Volde—,"
"Don't say the name!" barked Ron.
"Sorry, with You-Know-Who back, well, I wanted to keep them safe. You know, they're Muggles and all. They're in danger. At least, that's what I told your Mum."
"That's not why you sent them?" Ginny asked, shocked.
Hermione glanced nervously at Ron. "Well, no it's true, that's why I sent them away. I just got overwhelmed when I saw your Mum. I'm not sure why."
Ginny looked confused but didn't question Hermione any further. She was aware that the trio was up to something heroic. That much had been discussed with Harry last year. Ron knew all too well the other half of the story though.
Hermione was now gazing intently at Ron. He shifted his gaze nervously. Why was she looking at him like that?
"We should go upstairs, Ron," Hermione said, then turned to Ginny, "We'll talk later."
Ginny gave Hermione a toothy grin but Hermione shook her head quickly and Ginny dropped the grin from her face, looking rather disappointed.
"What…what do you mean?" Ron asked nervously. Had she missed him that much? He could feel heat rising in his cheeks.
"We have things to discuss," Hermione said, grabbing his hand and dragging Ron toward the stairs.
Once they got to Ron's small attic room, Hermione shut the door and cast a Muffliato spell at it.
"I thought you didn't approve of that spell," Ron stated, for some reason feeling the need to be defiant.
Hermione did not reply and continued her work, surveying the room carefully. She scrutinized his trunk and eyed his things scattered about his room. Ron suspected she was about to be cross with him but he watched her, mesmerized by her movements. She turned to face him and he leaned toward her slightly but she moved to sit on his bed. Ron braced himself.
"You haven't told them yet, have you?" she demanded.
"Told them what?" Ron said dumbly.
"That you're not going back to Hogwarts."
"Are you really serious about that?"
"I asked you the question first." Hermione crossed her arms and set her jaw.
"Well, er… no… I haven't."
"I suppose you haven't thought about how you're going to convince everyone why you're not going back?"
"Er…"
"You haven't thought about this at all, have you?"
"Well…"
"Typical, Ronald Weasley," Hermione said crossly. "Are you going to help or are you not?"
"Yes!" Ron shouted, then lowered his voice. "Of course I'm going to. Harry's my best mate!" He thought a moment, "It just doesn't seem real is all. You're really serious, aren't you?"
Her eyes welled with tears. "I wouldn't have erased my parent's memories and sent them off to Australia if I wasn't, would I?"
Good point.
"Blimey, Hermione. That must have been hard."
"I just wanted to protect them," Hermione went on. "I'm… I'm a Muggleborn. He's targeting witches and wizards like me. He'll target our families too. And I'll be with Harry. We'll be with Harry," she corrected. "You understand that's going to make us that much more wanted, right? You understand they're going to hone in on our families to get to us, right?"
Ron was silent, turning these thoughts over in his mind. It was one thing to protect two Muggles by memory modification. It was quite another to protect a large family of witches and wizards.
"You're family is pure-blooded, Ron. They'll be safe," Hermione said, as though she had read his mind. How did she do that, anyway?
"They're blood-traitors, Hermione! That's barely a step above Muggleborn in his book!"
"I know…" Hermione whispered.
Ron crossed his arms and fell back against the wall with a thud. He slid down the wall and sat on the floor, his face twisted in thought. How could he protect his family, without hiding them all? The sudden disappearance of the entire Weasley family would be suspicious. And his father would lose his job at the Ministry. And Merlin knew whether Percy would actually oblige… Stupid git.
Hermione was staring at him again. It was unnerving.
"What?" he snapped.
"Do you have any ideas?"
"Well…" Ron said slowly, "I need a way to explain my absence and only my absence. Maybe I could get sent off to Durmstrung…" he shook his head, "No, our family could never afford that…"
"It'd be too easy to check, too," Hermione added.
"And it wouldn't explain why Ginny was still at Hogwarts."
"Maybe you can contract some sort of disease or something…"
"Like that would help. How am I supposed to go traipsing around with you and Harry, hunting Horcruxes if I've got Spattergroit or something…" Ron's eyes brightened, "SPATTERGROIT! Oh! I see what you're on about!"
Hermione looked up, startled that he seemed to know what Spattergroit was, "That's all well and good, Ron, but what if someone came here to make sure you were really sick. They're going to suspect you're with Harry if we don't come back to Hogwarts. They would know your family was lying…"
Hermione didn't finish her thought and Ron was grateful for it. He did not want to think what would happen to his family if they came to hunt him down and he wasn't here. Ron dropped his head in defeat. Hermione was right. As always. Why did she have to be so bloody smart?
"All I need is a long lost twin brother. That would solve everything," he said with a groan.
Hermione smiled grimly. "We'll work something out. Don't worry."
That night, Ron tossed and turned in his bed. He needed to tell his family he wouldn't be returning to Hogwarts, but he wanted to make sure that he had a plan before he did so. Either that, or he was just coming up with excuses to delay the inevitable. He realized it was more likely to be the second over the first.
He flipped over, facing the wall, and found his thoughts wandering to Hermione. It had only been a few weeks since he had last seen her. But he had missed her as though it had been a year. He longed to be in her presence and he wasn't really sure why. It was just Hermione after all. It wasn't like there was anything really special about her. She was just really smart, and maybe a little bit pretty. Just a little though. Besides, Harry would probably be better with Hermione than he would be. He was just Ron. Stupid pathetic Ron who couldn't do anything right and had nothing on him compared to his older brothers.
Ron kicked the wall.
The ghoul above him pounded back in reply.
Ron kicked the wall twice and the ghoul replied again with two bangs.
Bloody ghoul.
Wait.
Ron sat up with a jolt, nearly hitting his head on the slanted ceiling. He stumbled out of his bed and threw the door open, pounding down the stairs to Ginny's bedroom. Without thinking, he flung open her door. Ginny shrieked and Hermione lit her wand, her eyes wide in surprise and her hair sticking out at odd angles.
"RON! GET OUT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHAT IF WE WERE CHANGING?" Ginny cried, her face contorting in fearful rage.
Ron could feel heat rising fiercely in his cheeks and ears.
"Er…"
"What is it, Ron?" Hermione asked from her bed, her voice more pleasant and forgiving than Ginny's.
"The ghoul!"
"What?" Ginny asked, snorting with laughter. She doubled over in bed, cackling. "You mean to say… you're afraid of the… you're going to use that as an excuse to…"
"That's brilliant, Ron!" Hermione cried, ignoring Ginny. She whipped the covers off herself bolted toward Ron, wrapping him in a giant hug.
"What?" Ginny asked in puzzlement now.
"The ghoul!" Hermione paced the length of Ginny's room. "Why didn't we think of it before?"
"What are you two going on about?" Ginny demanded, standing now.
"We can do some transfiguration and make the ghoul look like it's got spattergroit! It'd be believable, because spattergroit can get rather nasty looking…" Hermione ran a hand through her hair, still pacing.
"Would someone fill me in here?" Ginny nearly shouted.
"What is going on in here?" demanded a voice from behind Ron.
Everyone turned to face Mrs. Weasley.
Bloody hell.
"Mum!" Ron said, backing up.
"What's all the shouting about?" she asked, looking rather peeved.
"Er…"
"Get to bed, Ronald Weasley!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, pointing her finger up the stairs. "And that goes for the two of you as well!" she said to Ginny and Hermione, but in a slightly gentler voice, Ron thought. "People are trying to sleep around here! It's the middle of the night! You've woken half the house!"
Ron grimaced. If half the house wasn't awake before, they were now after his mother had blown her steam. She was certainly on edge with this wedding coming up. That would not help when he told her he wasn't going back to Hogwarts…
Ron staggered back up the stairs to his room under his mother's intense glare. Flopping back on his bed, his mind raced with ideas of transforming the ghoul. He was positive Fred and George would be more than happy to help. Now all he had to do was tell his family the plan… He had a bad feeling that would be the hard part.
.x.X.x.X.x.X.x.X.x.X.x.
Author's Note: Hello all! First things first: So sorry for the long wait!! I realized that it has been nearly a month since I posted my last chapter. I sincerely apologize about that. School has been incredibly busy and I try really hard to get writing in but school has to come first. Hope you understand! Anyhow, I hope this chapter was worth the wait.
Secondly: Sorry about the sudden account switch. I was very pleasantly surprised at the number of people who updated their bookmarks and left reviews. It means a lot to me and shows that you really do want to follow my story. Very touching! To those of you who boosted my reviews, thank you so much!
Thirdly: I know I have been promising the 7 Potters part for the last two chapters. Apparently, I write sequences slower than I expected. (Wait, that's good right? Don't want to rush the plot…) But not good that I promise something and break it. Anyhow. This time I absolutely promise that the next chapter is going to be about the Seven Potters! (I've even started writing it! Whoa!)
Fourth(ly? Is that a word? Lol): Or I should say, Last but DEFINITELY not least: Thank you ChaoticVeins and DefierofReason (JuJu) who are le awesome betas! As always, they made amazing suggestions that only improved this chapter!
Oh yeah, wait, one last thing. :) Please leave reviews! They brighten my day. :)