By the time Snape returned from Hogwarts, Ron had familiarized himself with the ostentatious house, and was on good terms with Linky. Ron had even managed to read every book. But even though he knew the importance of the information, Ron still did not have a history of retaining information well, so as soon as he'd finished all the books, he made himself read them again.
Ron hadn't disobeyed any more of Snape's orders. As much as he wanted to go back into the room with the Pensieve and watch the memories again, Ron didn't want to give Snape any more reason to be mad at him. Ron also planned on confronting Snape about the memories as soon as he got home.
Snape returned while Ron was sleeping and woke him up immediately. The door to Ron's room banged open and startled him awake.
"I thought I made it clear that you were to venture nowhere except the places I explicitly told you," Snape hissed menacingly.
Ron said nothing. All he could do was stare at the potions master that had tormented him for six years. Dumbledore had said to trust Snape all along, and he had been right.
In a second, Ron could tell that Snape knew Ron's true allegiance. There was a minute when Snape's eyes met Ron's and something unsaid exchanged between the two wizards. They both knew that they were on the same side. But this moment of equality was gone in an instant and Snape's beady black eyes turned murderous.
"Do you realize the consequences of your actions?"
Still Ron said nothing, but Snape wasn't waiting for a response. Before Ron could react, Snape whipped out his wand and pointed it at Ron.
"Legilimens," Snape said.
Instantly, Ron was pulled into his own mind and was experiencing the Pensieve, and Snape's memories all over again. And after Ron saw Dumbledore finish telling Snape that Harry had to be killed by Voldemort again, the torture didn't end. Snape fished further into his mind, bringing up memories in the tent with Harry and Hermione–plans they were making, conversations about horcruxes and basilisk fangs….
From all Ron had read about blocking unfriendly forces and practicing Occlumency, nothing seemed helpful. It felt as if Snape was tearing apart his brain, Snape's fury and rage more powerful than anything Ron would attempt.
Finally, Snape retreated from Ron's mind, and Ron was back in Snape's house. Ron sat up and leaned again the bed, panting, his head felt like it had been filled with bricks. Snape grasped the collar on Ron's shirt so that Ron was forced to look Snape in the eye.
"That could have easily been the Dark Lord seeing into your mind."
Ron suddenly glared. His wonderment at Snape's innocence faded from his emotions, and an annoyance filled its place.
"If you didn't want me to see the memories, you shouldn't have put them in plain sight!" Ron seethed.
"If you had any brains, you would have been smart enough not to go through other people's things like you were told," Snape spat back. He released Ron's shirt and strode toward the bookshelf that now only contained half the books it had before. The other half lay on the ground, some open or other wise dog-eared.
"At least you did something right," Snape muttered sourly. He turned to Ron, still trying to catch his breath on the floor. "What is the key to shutting your mind?"
"Calm and controlled concentration," Ron recited perfectly. He'd remembered it because he'd laughed when he'd read it. Calmness, control, and concentration were three things he didn't have.
"As punishment for disobeying me, for the next two days, you will squeeze exactly twenty one drops of oil into a goblet of water. No more, no less. You will stir the oil with water and wait for it to separate again. Once it is separated, you will extract exactly twenty one drops of oil. Hopefully this will teach you the importance of concentration, and control.
"The Dark Lord has requested your presence at the end of the week, therefore we begin your training tonight. Every night you will practice Occlumency with me. I don't expect you to be any better than Potter, but I expect I don't need to remind you of the consequences if I don't see quick progress.
Without another word, Snape turned on his heel and strode from the room, his black robes billowing out behind him.
Ron slammed the door, not caring that Linky would most likely not make him breakfast because of it. For all he knew, Snape would leave the house as he did on multiple occasions. To where, Ron didn't know, but it wasn't likely to be Diagon Alley.
"Arse," Ron said under his breath. It didn't matter that Snape was good, he was and always had been unreasonable. What was the point in being punished? They had a war to win, not oil to separate!
Could he possibly escape Snape's house right now? Would Linky rat him out? All Ron had was his wand and the Deluminator Dumbledore had left him. He took it out and stared at it.
"Great use you've been," Ron muttered. Then he sighed. Although he knew Dumbledore was a manipulative bastard, it wasn't his fault that Ron left.
Ron clicked the Deluminator, and instantly the room was bathed in darkness. Ron wondered, as he'd done countless times, why Dumbledore had left this for him. What use did this have towards the horcrux mission?
He couldn't do anything about it now, so he shoved the Deluminator into his pocket and sunk back onto the bed, trying to fall back asleep.
Ron spent that day and the next separating oil and water over and over. He didn't dare ask Snape–who sat and watched him do this–about the memories. As much as Ron needed to know, he did not want Snape to delay him from getting something meaningful done again, and there really wasn't much he could do about it yet. After all, he couldn't very well seek out Harry and tell him he was a horcrux; he had no idea where his friend was. And what was the point of telling Harry when they could do nothing about it now? Ron knew there was a time and a place when he would find out, and at this point, he trusted Snape wholeheartedly to know when and where that was.
Ron was surprised at how easily he'd come to trust Snape. It had only taken two minutes in the Pensieve for Ron to completely switch his feelings towards the torturous potions master he'd known for six years of his life.
The first night of Occlumency lessons, Snape brought Ron to a room Ron had never been in before. It was large but lacked furniture. The room reminded Ron of the Room of Requirement when the DA had used it as a practice room.
Snape told Ron to go to the far side of the room. Ron did so and Snape stayed where he was. Ron turned to face Snape.
"I want you to think of one thing and only that one thing. Do not let me see anything else. Do you understand?" Snape said pointing his wand at Ron.
Ron nodded. Snape obviously knew that Ron would never be able to completely clear his mind on the first try. At least he would be focusing on one thing.
Ron thought of the day in third year when Snape had taught in Lupin's place and taught them about werewolves. He didn't want the potions master to see any memory he hadn't already experienced.
"Legilimens," Snape said. Ron's mind blasted open, and he was reliving the memory all over again. Snape calling Hermione a know-it-all, Ron himself getting detention. Without Ron realizing it, his memory strayed to that detention. Ron tried to think of the Defense class again, but some force kept him at detention.
No matter, Ron could deal with this. He forced himself to think of only detention, and this time he sensed the change in memory and was able to direct it back to detention before it switched again.
After Ron had watched himself clean cauldrons for a few seconds, Ron felt Snape's presence leave his head. As soon as Ron found himself back in the empty room, he collapsed before he even realized how exhausted he was.
"Get up, Weasley," Snape drawled. Ron felt a hand on his arm and he stood up, still breathing heavily.
"I'll congratulate you this once, Weasley," Snape said. "That was not abysmal for a first try."
Ron looked up at Snape. Had he just praised Ron?
"Legilimens!"
Ron hadn't seen it coming and therefore he wasn't prepared.
He was standing in the Gryffindor common room. Harry and Hermione were sitting in the armchairs by the fire. Ron went over and sat down.
"It was still risky," Hermione said to Ron.
"Don't feel bad, it was necessary," Ron from the memory said. Ron winced as he remembered this memory. When Hermione had snuck into Snape's personal stores and stole ingredients for their Polyjuice potion. Even though it had happened years ago, Ron knew he couldn't show Snape.
"Either way, he deserved it!" Harry said, "oh come on Hermione, everyone hate's that old-"
"Yes but he's still a professor, even if he deserved it, I really shouldn't have done it," Hermione reasoned.
Ron tried to think of something else. Anything but this memory. What had Harry done? A shield charm? It was too late for that now, but Ron managed to find his voice and wand in Snape's house.
"Expelliarmus!" he shouted disarming Snape.
The memory fizzled out and Ron was back in Snape's office. He was holding his own wand in his right hand, and Snape's in his left. He was amazed at himself for managing to correctly execute a defensive charm while under the legilimens curse.
Snape seemed to be amazed as well because for a minute he just stood looking at Ron, his arm outstretched and his hand curved as if still holding a wand.
"I expect the Dark Lord will be suspicious let alone furious when you attack him while he's peering into your thoughts. Don't think what you have done is acceptable."
Snape walked past Ron, forcefully taking his wand as he passed.
"We are done for the evening."
And with that, Ron was left alone in the room, completely stunned at what he had just done, and only regretting it a little.
The end of the week came quicker than Ron expected and he hadn't gotten much farther in Occlumency than maintaining one memory, and he had no idea if he would be strong enough to defend himself against Voldemort. Nevertheless, on Sunday night, Ron was preparing himself to face Voldemort again.
Snape led Ron to a forest, where seven other Death Eaters stood ominously in a circle. Three spaces were vacant. One space was to the left of who Ron assumed to be Bellatrix based on the long curly hair, although he couldn't tell because everyone wore the same mask. Two more empty spaces were to her right, Ron and Snape's.
No Death Eater spoke or moved, but Ron could feel every set of eyes on his face underneath their masks. Ron was the only one without a mask, and he felt almost self conscious with his face emotions available for everyone to judge. He resorted to staring ahead.
In a matter of minutes, Voldemort appeared in the center of the circle. Another Death Eater was by his side and they stood in the vacant space next to Bellatrix.
Voldemort slowly turned and examined each of his followers, smiling when he reached Ron. Ron felt in his pocket for the Deluminator, his fingers closed around it. Voldemort turned to Snape.
"Severus," Voldemort began, "tell me: how are lessons at our favorite school advancing?"
"The students are being taught what is right," Snape answered evenly.
"And has our initiate progressed?" Voldemort passed by Ron in the circle. Ron didn't react as Voldemort's red eyes bore deep into his.
"Surprisingly, my Lord," Snape said to Ron's right.
"Good," Voldemort said, "good. I have plans, Weasley. Plans I never thought possible until you graced us with your presence."
Ron allowed his eyes to follow Voldemort as he left his field of vision. Voldemort was now in front of Snape, and he effortlessly removed Snape's mask with a flick of his wand. Snape's face was blank. He didn't flinch when his face became exposed like Ron's.
"I have plans for you as well, Severus."
"My Lord," Snape responded.
"As you all know, I am requiring a wand," Voldemort said. He turned away from Snape and walked across the circle to a Death Eater with white blonde hair. "Unfortunately, Lucius, your wand could not compete with my power."
Voldemort took something out of his robes and dropped it at Lucius's feet. Ron could see that it was two halves of a wand, broken at the middle. There were a number of hisses and gasps around the circle. Ron kept a strait face.
"No," Voldemort continued, "there is another wand I am requiring, a specific one."
Voldmort turned swiftly to face Snape again.
"I assume you know of this wand," he remarked.
"Yes, my Lord."
"And can you manage what I ask?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"Good, good. As for now, I shall require another…temporary wand."
Voldemort turned to the Death Eater next to Bellatrix and held out his hand.
"My Lord?" Ron recognized the voice as Wormtail.
"You've always been so loyal to me," Voldemort sneered, "why not prove it further?"
"It…" Wormtail stuttered, obviously unwilling to give up his wand, "it would be an honor, my Lord," he said shakily. He pulled his wand out of his robes and placed it in Voldemort's outstretched hand.
Voldemort was now facing Ron again and was smiling, his red eyes narrowing and lips curling up into more of a grimace. Ron forced himself not to react to the grotesque face that was staring him down.
"Weasley," Voldemort finally addressed Ron.
"My Lord," he said.
"Your arm."
Ron looked up at Voldemort surprised. Could Ron really not have to prove himself for him? Maybe he was so excited Ron was still on his side? Or maybe he trusted Snape more than Ron thought.
Voldemort seemed to take Ron's surprised hesitation as something else because he only smiled.
"Your arm, Weasley,"
This was it: Ron's last chance to turn back. But he knew he couldn't. He'd already come this far, and backing out now would destroy everything–not to mention the fact that Voldemort would most likely kill him. Ron heard Bellatrix laugh at his hesitation.
"Your arm, Weasley," Voldemort repeated. He wasn't angry though, his tone almost suggested that he was laughing at Ron, amused at the fact that he'd gotten one of Harry Potter's closest allies on his side. Or at least that he thought he had. Ron let that steer his decision. Voldemort could think whatever he wanted, but Ron knew he would never turn, his hatred for Voldemort would only become stronger.
Ron unclasped his fingers from the Deluminator and raised his arm holding it out for Voldemort. Voldemort smiled as he pushed the sleeve of Ron's robe out of the way. He touched the tip of Wormtail's wand to Ron's wrist. A hiss that Ron could only assume was parseltongue escaped Voldemort's lips, and the tip of Wormtail's wand turned green.
Ron fought the urge to scream as what felt like a knife slowly and painfully arched it's way down Ron's wrist, forever etching in the serpent-like design.
Ron could feel it, a coldness warping his thoughts slowly creep from his wrist throughout his body and freezing at his heart. Every immoral thing Ron had ever thought was suddenly rushing to his brain, every bad decision fighting for Ron's attention. He felt evil, and it sickened him. He squeezed his eyes shut knowing that he would never be able to rid himself of it.