Where Our Loyalties Lie
"Bloody hell! What did I get myself into?"
Ron Weasley surveyed the contents of the library at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, his eyes widening as he began to comprehend the enormity of the task set before him.
The room, which he was almost certain wasn't this big the last time he had chanced to enter it, was covered with bookcases that seemed to be groaning under the sheer weight of the books jammed onto their shelves. He ran his hand through his hair in frustration, trying to figure out just where in Merlin's name he was to start his search, and just how exactly he got roped into this particular job in the first place.
Ron was not a fan of books. This of course was common knowledge to everyone, especially his girlfriend, Hermione, who fought a tireless rearguard action of trying to make him a tad more studious. What most people didn't realize was that Ron really harbored no ill will towards books. In fact, he was a big fan of certain types of literature. No one tore into a new Quidditch magazine with greater fervor and tenacity than the youngest Weasley male. Even less widely known was that Ron was also a connoisseur of the excellent material showcased in Playwizard magazine, which he, of course, read solely for the highly insightful articles.
The dusty tomes of wizard lore were a totally different matter. Ron could never muster up the motivation to even feign interest in these books, no matter how much he tried or Hermione cajoled. It was because of this that he found himself currently at an impasse, franticly trying to determine why he was doing research of all things. Hermione was so much better at this. But she had her hands full with her own studies and research.
Hermione. Just thinking about her now made a smile cross his freckled face. No matter how hard he pondered, he still couldn't figure out what was so special about him that Hermione would want to be his girl. She was everything that any guy could ever want: smart, funny, caring, and beautiful beyond measure. To be honest, Ron felt like the buxom blondes of Playwizard didn't hold a candle to his Hermione, especially whenever she got riled up from an argument that he had started with her. The way she set her hips and pursed her lips as she yelled at him was, Ron had to admit, sexy as hell. Just the thought of her in full row mode caused him to flush slightly. Ron might not have been the sharpest of the Golden Trio, but he knew one thing for sure, he had a good thing going and he wasn't going to do something to jeopardize it.
The smile fell from Ron's face as he remembered just how close he came to losing the best thing in his life. Never before had he felt so sick, so dead inside, as that night in Malfoy Manor when he was subjected to the most horrible torture ever. It wasn't torture against his person. No, he would have been more than able to stand strong against that. It was the sounds of Hermione in the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange what nearly caused him to give up the fight. The memories of her screams as she was hit again and again by the Cruciatus, his futile attempts to escape and rescue her from harm, throat raw and bleeding from shouting her name over and over, the pain in her eyes as he finally found her writhing on the floor, consumed by the aftereffects of the curse, it all came back to him in the darkness of his worst nightmares. And with each time that he would awake from that horrible place in his mind, he reaffirmed the vow he had made that fateful day. He would die before allowing that to happen to anyone he cared about ever again.
That day had marked a turning point in Ron's life. It was then that Ron realized that his feelings for Hermione Granger went far beyond that of a simple school crush. He loved that bossy bushy-haired witch, just as much as he loved his family and Harry.
This was something else that caught Ron by surprise when he had finally stopped to think about it. Like every normal bloke, he felt somewhat leery about expressing feeling towards other guys, but he had to face facts, he loved Harry Potter like a brother. They had been through so much together, so many amazing and terrible ordeals that they had transcended mere friendship. Harry would do anything for Ron and Ron felt likewise.
It was with a sense of shame that Ron remembered back to the few times that he had abandoned Harry in his time of need. Ron had let his own insecurity and jealousness get in the way of their friendship back during the Tri-wizard Tournament, stupidly believing that Harry had put his name in the Goblet of Fire so that he might compete and increase his fame and glory. At a time when Harry needed friendship and understanding, Ron had offered him neither.
More recently, Ron remembered how he had abandoned both Harry and Hermione during their self-imposed Horcrux hunt. All it took was a little bit of hardship and a few missed meals, and Ron had automatically begun to feel sorry for himself, losing enthusiasm and lashing out at his best friends. Then he bolted, leaving both the friend and girl that he loved more than life itself to struggle to complete the most important task in the world by themselves. Sure he had returned, but he would never forget the pain that he had caused Harry and Hermione by his actions.
Ron sighed as he forced those memories back into the depths of his mind. He remembered now why he was here searching the full to capacity library of Grimmauld Place. He would never let down those he cared for ever again. He might not be able to do much, but he would tackle whatever task given if it meant that it might ease the burden of those who needed him. From the way Ginny had described it, Harry was in one of those dire situations now, and required all the help he cold get. Ron would be more than happy to oblige.
There was something else that amazed Ron. He had never given much thought to his sister, other than maintaining the responsibilities of protective older brother. However, he couldn't help but notice the relationship between Ginny and his best mate. Ron would be the first to tell you that Harry had always been a shy bloke, extremely modest and at times, what Ron called "broody." But for the short time that Harry and Ginny were officially together, all that seemed to change. Granted, Harry remained quiet and modest in public, but when he was with Ginny, she seemed make him smile and laugh a great deal more. When discussing this change at one point with Hermione, he had mentioned that Ginny seemed to "suck the depressing out of him." This had earned him an eye roll from Hermione, but she had been forced to admit that he had a point. The truth of the matter was that, no matter how Ron looked at it, Harry and his sister were made for each other. Ginny had overcome her early childhood crush and now loved Harry to distraction, and Ron had a feeling that Harry might feel the same.
When Harry had disappeared after the Final Battle, Ginny had been beside herself in anguish. Ron didn't want to kill Harry exactly, but he did want to throttle him a bit, not just for upsetting his sister, but also for being so noble that he couldn't allow himself a little bit of happiness as well. Now he had gone and gotten himself into some major trouble of some sort, and it was up to the rest of them to save him.
"Well, Harry, I guess it's up to us to figure out how to get you out of this one," Ron muttered. "But once we do, I feel that it's my duty to give you a bit of a thrashing… a light one, mind you, but still a thrashing." Taking in the room one more time, Ron shook his head. "Well, you can't finish something unless you start." Heaving an epic sigh, Ron trudged over to the nearest bookcase and began pulling various volumes off the shelves, scanning through them slowly.
Much later, Ron flopped into one of the library's reading chairs in exasperation. He had been at this nonstop for over four and a half hours, and had barely made it halfway through the first bookcase. The enormity of his task fell upon him again as he struggled to find the willpower to continue the search. His mind began to wander back to the day before and the frequent stops he and Hermione had made on their way to Professor Flitwick's office. They had taken time to do a little bit of empty classroom exploration before moving on to other business. With a twinge of annoyance, Ron thought that if he could only find some book, any book, on that stupid necklace, he might very well have the opportunity to engage in more explorations with Hermione that very evening. However, looking at the almost insignificant amount of progress that he had made thus far, those pleasant thoughts seemed to be slipping right through his calloused fingers.
"If only there was some way to make this stupid search go faster!" he ranted out loud as he fiddled with his wand in impatience. "Why can't I just say some spell like Accio Emerald of Empathy book and have it come to me?"
Without warning, something smacked Ron in the head, knocking him to the floor in surprise.
"What the bloody hell was that?!"
Ron scanned the room with his wand ready, looking for an uninvited assailant who was ready to fight. Much to his chagrin, he remained the room's sole occupant. Seeing that the room was clear, he made to get up, noticing at the last moment that a thin and somewhat tattered book was lying at his feet. His eyes widened in shock as he read the title.
Demystifying the Myth:
Findings Concerning a Study of the Emerald of Empathy
By:
Jankas Pegason
"I don't believe it! The bloody spell actually worked!" Ron began a rather grotesque jig of glee, pumping his fist in the air all the while. "Just wait until Hermione hears what happened, she's going to go mental!"
Ron grabbed his stuff and made for the door. When he got to the doorway, he stopped for a second and turned around. With a moment's thought, he crossed back over to one of the nearest bookcases. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, he reached out and patted the bookcase somewhat hesitantly.
"Thanks for the help, Padfoot. You're a life saver. Oh, and, um… if you would kind of keep the whole book hitting me in the head thing secret, I'd really appreciate it."
With a last look around, Ron nodded to himself and then sped from the room, intent on showing that he could pull his weight after all.
It was dark and dank, this place. The lack of light was not a real problem. He didn't need much light to navigate his way around. The smell was uncomfortable however, even for him. It reeked of death, decay, and despair. This was not a good place, oh no, far from it. But if he knew one thing, it was duty, and his duty required that he be here. He was needed, and he was more than willing to serve. It was quiet here for the most part, at least until night-time, when the screams began. Then it took all his fortitude to keep from fleeing in terror. He had witnessed many horrible things, but they all seemed to shrink in comparison to what he seen each and every night. He was powerless to stop it, although he wanted to so very badly. Instead, he found himself waiting for daybreak and the slight respite it provided. Only then could he do his duty, only then could he tend to things.
He had no idea how he had ended up where he was, nor where exactly that place could be. But here he would stay forever, or until things were made right. It mattered not which came first.
As he watched the sun fade slowly below the horizon, he steeled himself for what was fast approaching. Sure enough, as the last vestiges of light disappeared, he felt the surge that shook him to his very core, accompanied by torturous screams that seemed to echo from everywhere around him. With a sad sigh, he began to move towards the origin of the horrifying cries. A faint whisper, his only utterance, was instantly lost amidst the hellish shrieks.
"My poor Master…"
