Ron collapsed onto a pavement ground and didn't get up. Physically, he felt like he had been run over by a tractor. All energy he might have had before was completely gone.
"Get up Weasley," Snape sneered behind him. Ron hastily stood, only to be clutched again by Snape, who dragged him a considerable distance down the road and then through a door. Once they were inside, Snape let go and Ron stumbled back, still unsteady on his feet.
They were in some sort of grand foyer with marble floor, even pillars. A spiral staircase led upstairs, and a door behind. Ron was surprised at the extravagance of it.
"Do you know how lucky you are?" Snape seethed in his face. Ron only glared. "Do you know the sacrifice I just had to make?"
When Ron didn't respond, Snape began pacing.
"Had I not been there, had the Dark Lord offered you up to us followers instead of having mercy, you would have been charred, you would have had to endure such torment and abuse you would have given anything to die, do you understand,"
Ron glared. Who did Snape think he was? Trying to come off as his savior?
"You sicken me," Snape turned back to the door.
"You're not pleasing to the eye either," Ron muttered under his breath.
"I should kill you right now. How could you possibly believe you could get the Dark Lord to believe you?" Snape roared turning back over. Ron had to fight the urge to curse Snape right then and there. He had to keep reminding himself that he was on Snape's side now.
"The Dark Lord chose to keep me alive, why would you question his actions," Ron retorted.
"Because I have seen you with Potter, you would never leave his side,"
"What about Wormtail? He betrayed the Potters without a second thought! What about Sirius, who spent twelve years in Azkaban because people believed he was doing the Dark Lord's bidding! People believed Sirius Black, James' best friend, had switched. How could I be any different from either of them?"
"Wormtail's a coward and will do whatever keeps him alive. Black's lineage was Dark, it was only a matter of time before he saw what was right. You have no excuse. You and your family are and will always be blood traitors,"
"NONE OF THAT MATTERS!" Ron shouted. An ornate pot burst next to him and he purposely stepped on the broken clay making it scatter on the floor. "Why should my blood matter? What matters is the way the wizarding world is headed, and unless it is run by the Dark Lord, nothing will be fair, nothing will be right,"
Snape didn't say anything. Ron was breathing heavily. Ron took Snape's silence as a good thing. Could Snape actually start to believe that this was what Ron really wanted? That Ron truly had switched sides? Ron hoped so. He knew that convincing the Death Eaters would be hard, but now that he was here, in the heat of the moment, absolutely yelling at his former professor that he had despised and not afraid of getting a detention, it wasn't as hard as he'd expected.
A sneer threatened to twitch on Snape's face, but he still held the icy glare on Ron's eyes. Ron held his own glare right back. He didn't look away, didn't waver.
Suddenly, Snape grabbed him by the arm and dragged him up the stairs. Three flights and a long hallway brought them to a small room with nothing but a bed, a fireplace, and surprisingly, a house elf. The elf squeaked something unintelligible and scurried out past them. Snape practically threw Ron into the room.
"You are not to leave this house, you are not to touch anything. I shall know if you try to escape, and when I get back, you will be in this room. Have I made myself clear."
"Yes," Ron spat. Snape's mouth twitched as if ready to scowl at Ron's tone. He turned toward the door and slammed it on his way out.
Ron waited a full minute after he heard the crack outside before he moved. He opened the door and looked down each hallway. Thankfully there was a bathroom across.
He only managed to get through the door before he had thrown up all over the floor. He dropped his wand and it rolled under an ornate bathtub. It had all been too much. He'd turned himself in, he had almost died, he'd given away Harry's secrets, put him at a disadvantage. His heart sank with dread. In the life threatening instance, he had given away information. The most crucial information he could possibly give, and now Voldemort was changing his plans because of it.
He couldn't believe it, any of it. He was working for Voldemort now. He would have to participate in raids, torture people, even go as far as murder. He couldn't turn back now though, he would be murdered, and that wouldn't help anything.
No, he couldn't think about leaving right now. There was a reason he'd become a Death Eater, a good one. There was a reason he'd left Harry and Hermione. They had been getting nowhere with only one Horcrux and with no way of destroying it. He was going to get information, if not from Voldemort himself, then from Snape, or Malfoy, whoever would slip up and mention something in front of him.
Ron clutched the side of the sink and splashed cold water on his face. He needed a plan, and if he was going to make a plan, he needed to stay focused. Needed to calm down.
He would play the Death Eater, he would convince them all. He would cease contact with anyone. He would seek out Wormtail. Yes, he could manipulate Wormtail. He would use memory charms, the Imperius curse, he would use Crucio if it came to it, if he had to. Death Eaters used Crucio. He would get information fro Wormtail, and go from there.
Ron retrieved his wand, vanished his sick and went back to the bedroom. He collapsed on the bed, a plan forming in his mind, and noticed that the sun was just starting to rise before he passed out from exhaustion.