Chapter Five: The Misconceptions of Betrayal

There had been a murder, the work of Keres apparently. At least, that's what the grand rumour mill of Hogwarts said. Ron was sceptical, at least at first. Until he saw it. He was outside when he saw the edge of the Forbidden Forest, covered with people adorning red robes, Aurors. But the sight of Aurors was not the thing to make Ronald Weasley's breath wound up tight in his chest. There, behind the pair of Aurors. Was a shiver, a small tuft of red hair. It was obscured by the pair, but he could see it. Coppery, fiery, dark red, red. Red hair. Whoever Keres had killed had had red hair.

At first, he tried to reassure himself. There were plenty of people besides his siblings who had red hair. Marietta Edgecombe, Lily Moon, Susan Bones, to name a few. It wasn't just Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Mum and Dad and Ginny. Just right then, in the midst of his rapid paced thoughts someone tapped on his shoulder. Whirling his head around he saw Professor McGonagall's lined face. Pinched with some type of feeling that Ron just recognized it was one of despair. He fixed his face and asked. "Yes?"

"Mister Weasley, if you would kindly join me in my office it would be much appreciated." Odd, Ron had never been invited to her office. Only if he had gotten himself in trouble or it was with Harry — he had never gotten invited into her office individually. Maybe Harry was already there, speaking of Harry, where was his mate? Once again having to shield himself from his thoughts he nodded.

The walk to his Transfiguration professor's office was long and dreadful. He wondered what he had done again, and tried to ignore the tiny voice in the back of his mind saying that the issue was a lot more serious than some stupid thing he and Harry had decided to do.

Professor McGonagall held the door open for Ron as he walked through, taking a silent gulp when he realised indeed. Harry Potter was not there, smirking at him in a chair adjacent to a desk. He took slow steps, sitting in the first chair.

"Would you like a biscuit of some sort, tea?" She asked, hurrying over to the chair behind her desk. And once more and Ron shook his head no in response, there was a faint feeling of relief that it was all just about some silly prank he and Harry had done and nothing more. It wasn't anything sinister at all. Just a prank, and the person with looks of red hair was involved. Maybe Marietta again, who had been hexed just last year with a permanent scar writing 'SNEAK' across her face. Just that again, wasn't it. McGonagall's suddenly ever more serious and lined face portraying sadness said otherwise to the boy.

"I deeply regret telling you this, Mr Weasley. But… Keres has struck again you see and…" McGonagall sniffed, grabbing a handkerchief from her desk and blowing harshly on it. The pit of dread and rage had already settled into his stomach, he was just in denial. "Your sister, Ginny Weasley was unfortunately caught up in the whole Keres mess. She didn't make it out alive — you see." No. That was it, he couldn't deny it anymore. No more excuses. It wasn't Marietta, Lily, Susan, Fred, George, Charlie, Percy, Bill, Mum and Dad. It was Ginny. What did his sister do to deserve this? She didn't do anything, she was just there. Ron had seen her, heard her, smelt her — a day ago. Happy, laughing, fiery and whole. Joking and messing around with her, both red cheeked and heaving and coughing from laughter. "My sister…" My sister, my sister, my sister, Ginny… my sister, Ginny. "Ginny… WHAT DID SHE DO TO DESERVE IT!" He sobbed, coughing and crying. As Professor McGonagall sat in a mournful silence, closing her eyes as though she was shielding herself from Ron's grief. "Do you want to see Mr Potter? He'll help you pack your bags so you can go home." For some reason, he didn't want to see Harry. His best mate, partner in crime. Harry could go jump off the Astronomy Tower for all Ron cared for. He felt as though it was Harry's fault. He was the Boy-Who-Lived, saviour, the icon and beacon of fortune and good faith to all of Wizarding Britain.

And he couldn't save Ron's little sister? A soft knock sounded on the door and McGonagall made a move to go and open it. Then Ron saw it, the person he had wished not to see. Harry Bloody Potter. His friend looked appropriately mournful as Harry bowed his head in respect when the Transfiguration Professor waved him in. Harry took a b-line straight to Ron and kneeled, patting and soothing his back. But Ron had a strange urge of disgust at his friend's actions as though the sympathy and respect was all an act. Then he had a sudden thought, just a thought, a speculation, a gut feeling. His friend, brother in all but blood, Harry Potter had been the one to murder Ronald Weasley's sister.

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Author's Note: I wrote grief wayyyy better than I did in the last one. And yasss I wrote this in class like I did chapter 6 that's coming soon.