A/N Hi everyone. Sorry for the delay in updating. I caught some nasty little flu bug and I haven't been up to writing really. I was also thinking about whether or not to write this chapter. Some people have asked me if I was going to have The Weasleys and Sirius address Ron's involvement in the grove issue. I thought that it might be important for me to, but I'm not sure it really belongs at this place in the story. It might be throwing the tempo off a bit. Let me know what you think. I may pull it out and make it a one shot.
Thanks as usual to all of my reviewers. I'm really bad about not responding to each review individually but I really do appreciate all of them and they make my day. Enjoy and please let me know what you want me to do with this chapter.
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Ron Weasley was squirming uncontrollably as he tried to get comfortable in the hard wooden chair across from Sirius' desk in the study. Although he had promised that he would be brave when facing the judgment of his best mate's godfather, his nerve's, rather shot after a week of a lot of unpleasantness, were frayed quite a bit. He repeatedly reminded himself that it had been his choice to be where he was at this minute. It was worth it, he had decided. What's more, knowing the trouble that his actions had caused his best friend, it was only fair.
Fidgeting, he craned his neck around at the hushed noises of Sirius' and Harry's voices in the hallway outside the study door. Harry had had a strange look on his face when Ron came through the floo. Ron was a bit worried that his best friend had not forgiven him after all. He was hoping, given the content of the letter that Harry had owled him yesterday, that his friend understood that he had never meant to get him into trouble. The letter didn't have any harsh words or bitterness contained within it. It had just sounded like any other letter that Harry had sent him over the years.
So why, after Ron had arrived at Celestial Court at the appointed time, did Harry look at him decidedly unhappy?
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"Aw, Bloody Hell!"
"Language, young man," Sirius scolded with a frown on his face. He turned a hard glare onto his godson who was reading the scroll of parchment that had just arrived by owl at the breakfast table. "Do I need to scourgify your mouth this early in the morning?"
Harry turned up his eyes and grimaced a little. "No, sir. Sorry." His cheeks flushed at the reprimand and he internally winced at the memory of Beezilbub's Soap.
Sirius' face relaxed and he gave his godson a sympathetic look. "What then, has you so upset that you felt the need to color our air before I have finished my first cup of coffee of the day?"
Harry dropped the parchment on the table and scowled. "Ron's parents won't let him come to the World Cup," he grumbled as he stabbed the sausage on his plate as if it had personally offended him.
Sirius put down the Prophet, his frown returning. "Why not?"
He asked the question, but even as he spoke the words he realized that he already knew the answer. Molly was no soft touch when it came to disciplining her children. While it had never occurred to Sirius, in the aftermath of the grove incident, to ban Harry from the eagerly anticipated match, he assumed that Ron's much more strict mother would have no compunction about withholding such a treat from her son after he had caused such a ruckus.
Harry was hacking his breakfast to bits with all the viciousness of a serial killer as he started to kick the table leg. His godfather reached over and put a firm hand on Harry's vindictive limb and the kicking came to an abrupt halt as his godson continued to scowl.
"I knew he was grounded for the rest of the summer," Harry said crossly, "but I didn't think that his Mum and Dad were this cruel! How could they make him miss the match? It's been ages since the World Cup was held in Britain." Harry's black eyebrows were knitted together fiercely and Sirius could see the onset of a full-on whinge in the making.
"Well, the table didn't ground Ron, so why don't you give it a break, okay?" Sirius watched in semi-amusement as Harry pushed back in his chair and crossed his arms.
Yep, full whinge on the way.
Sirius felt bad for both of the boys. He knew how much Ron had wanted to go to the Cup and, what was worse, he definitely knew that his godson's enjoyment of his birthday treat would be drastically altered if he couldn't share it with his best mate. He decided that he would have to try and intervene, although he knew that Molly would be hard pressed to reconsider. Arthur could always be counted on to be reasonable. Unfortunately, Molly was a bit more emotional in matters of her children in the good way and in the bad. She was a fierce lioness with her cubs and Merlin help anyone that tried to muck about with them. Unfortunately, Merlin help her cubs if they mucked about with her.
Sirius pursed his mouth in thought. Whatever he said to Molly had to be handled delicately. Without a doubt, she would be entirely unyielding if she thought her authority was going to be called into question. He pondered the brief idea of approaching Arthur quietly, but knew before he even formulated a game plan that that particular line of attack would stall before it even got into the air. No one questioned exactly who it was that wore the pants in the Weasley family.
Turning his attention back to his scowling little mess of a teenager, he smirked and then patted the boy on the knee. "I'll tell you what. I'll send Molly an owl and ask her if there isn't some way around this. Maybe she would be..wait, wait. Let me finish," he cautioned, as he held up a hand in restraint at the boy's growing enthusiasm. "Maybe she would be willing to consider some other restriction if I ask her nicely on your behalf."
Harry scooted his chair forward again as his green eyes flared with excitement. "She'll do it, if you ask her, I know it. She adores you, Sirius. Goes positively mental when you're around!" he gushed, enthusiastic about the chances of success now that his godfather was going to help.
Sirius rolled his eyes. Harry was giving him too much credit. While Molly could be flattered and dazzled, she was a formidable witch and an even more formidable mother. All the sparkling smiles in the world were not going to dissuade her if she felt strongly about her son's reprimand. He didn't want to get Harry's hopes up just yet.
"Pleeease, Sirius," Harry begged with his most pitiful look.
Rolling his eyes, Sirius ignored the obviously exaggerated distress and made the whinging fourteen year old wait several seconds before responding.
"I'll tell you what. If you promise to stop battering our furniture for crimes it did not commit, and also to eat your breakfast as opposed to torturing it, I will write to her this morning," he pledged.
Harry leaned forward and grabbed his fork. He shoveled a mound of eggs into his mouth and looked at his godfather expectantly. Sighing good naturedly, Sirius summoned parchment and ink and began the note that he hoped would not result in the wrath of Molly Weasley being visited upon himself.
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Ron had been hiding in his room since breakfast. After the past few horrible days, he found it safer to be out of sight than under his mother's irrated feet.
When his parents had first come to Celestial Court after Sirius' concerned summons, they had been frantic with worry. Taking their youngest son home crushed to his hysterical mother's breast, Molly had fussed and flustered over his every movement and word. When finally, later that afternoon, the frantic mother was assured of the boy's complete recovery, she dove into a screeching telling-off of epic proportions and of such shrill pitch that it would have made the merpeople wince in horror. Even the garden gnomes scurried in fear to another part of the Weasley property until it was well and truly over.
Poor Ron was thrust into a chair in the kitchen as his mother's face went the color of her hair as she described, in minute and painful detail, all of the ways he had erred and disgraced his family. While the hapless boy sat with slumped shoulders as his mother ranted and raved incessantly, he also had to endure the frequent pitying looks from Bill and Charlie, the disapproving condescension of Percy, the menacing and intimidating looks from Fred and George (who very clearly did not want their participation in the grove antics brought to the table) as well as the scowls and glares of little Ginny who seemed bound and determined to out do their mother.
The icing on the cake was a very red Howler from a still irate Hermione that chided him viciously for ruining their best mate's birthday weekend with such childish behavior. Molly paused her rant briefly to acknowledge the rebuke approvingly, commenting to no one in particular that Miss Granger would make some lucky boy an excellent wife some day.
After what seemed like hours of verbal and facial assaults, it was almost a mercy to the boy when his usually good natured father marched him out to the old barn that had been converted into a workshop of Muggle items. Bent over an old stained wooden table, ears still ringing, Arthur Weasley's youngest son was given a long and painful introduction to the worn leather belt that had been lurking in a bottom drawer of an old tool chest ever since the twins had tried to convince said boy into making an Unbreakable Vow as a small child.
While it was an experience that Ron had hoped never to have, he was slightly grateful to his dad for taking the reins in his punishment. The vision of his mother walloping him with her broomstick, as she had done to Fred some time ago, filled the redhead with fear that such a chastisement would lessen his enjoyment of Quidditch for good.
So complete was his disgrace that Ron was put on full restriction for the rest of the summer holidays. Ruefully, he watched his brothers and sister zoom about the fields engaged in pick up games of Quidditch or lope off to the shops in the nearby village of Ottery St. Catchpole, while he spent hours weeding the rather large garden or serving as his mother's sewing dummy while she stitched new togs for her large brood.
His misery became complete when his mother sought him out to inform him that his restriction included a ban on participation in the group outing to the World Quidditch Cup. After much pleading and sniffing, Ron knew when to accept defeat and sent a very cheerless owl to his best mate.
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After breakfast, Sirius had given Harry his Thursday morning Potions lesson. He was pleased to see that, when not being hovered over and scowled at, Harry was a fair potions maker. Certainly in the last couple of weeks, the boy had improved his knowledge and technique quite nicely.
After lunch, during which Harry resumed his incessant inquiries into any response to the owl his godfather had sent to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Sirius, growing weary of the endless fussing, marched Harry into the library and set him with the task of writing thank you letters for all of his birthday gifts.
It wasn't as if Harry was not grateful for all of the thought and effort of his presents, it was just that it was such a lovely day outside and he really would have preferred to go out and walk through the woods. Carefully judging his godfather's frown at the first inkling of displeasure, Harry quickly reminded himself that not only was he grounded, but Sirius was trying to do him and Ron a big favor. With that in mind, he took up residence at his lesson table and began to fill the large stacks of parchment with appreciative comments.
He was almost a third of the way through when he noticed the Weasley family owl Errol come flying near the house. Jumping up quickly, he threw open one of the large library windows as he remembered that Errol was not the most coordinated of beasts. Flapping tiredly, the ancient bird soared through the opening and made his way to Sirius in the study. He dropped the folded up parchment on the desk in front of the tall man and practically collapsed on the floor in front of him as Harry entered the study.
"Harry, could you help Errol out with some water and treats, please?" he asked absently as he broke the wax seal on the letter and began to peruse the contents.
Nodding, the boy picked up the battered messenger and brought him upstairs to Hedwig's cage. She was out hunting, but would not have minded sharing her perch temporarily. After years of correspondence, Hedwig and Errol were well acquainted and the snowy owl had a fair measure of respect for the elder one.
Sirius pondered for a few moments before scratching out a reply in his well heeled copperplate handwriting. He called for his own owl and bid him all due haste in carrying the message back. Sure, a fire call would have been much more convenient, but Sirius, like all well bred wizards, still firmly believed that nothing compared to the thoughtful handwritten word in matters that were both serious and delicate.
Hearing Harry pound back down the stairs with all the grace of a herd of buffalo, Sirius was not surprised to see the messy haired boy plow back into the study, a very inquiring look on his bespectacled face.
"Well?"
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Molly was in the kitchen drying herbs when she saw the unmistakable profile of Sirius' black horned owl fly towards her open window. Regal and graceful like his master, Xerxes glided into the hobnob room and landed flawlessly on the counter next to the intended recipient. With great dignity, he held out his leg and waited patiently as Molly retrieved her correspondence.
Scanning the contents approvingly, she scrawled a one word reply before reattaching it and giving Xerxes a chunk of buttery bread from the cutting board. He hooted distinguishably and then returned to the skies.
The correspondence of this morning had put her into a better mood than she had been in days. She had been absolutely livid at her son's behavior. Especially as she had taken such pains to investigate the qualifications of Sirius' guardianship over Harry. Here she had barely been willing to give the man an inch as a parent and then, when it was most important, it is her own son that is the ringleader of dangerous behavior.
Assuring herself that her son was being appropriately punished, she honestly had felt bad when she and Arthur had informed Ron that he would not be allowed to go to the Cup. She knew how much he had been looking forward to it and, quite frankly, with the special box that Sirius had acquired for the whole group, it was likely to be an experience that Ron would never get another chance at. However, Molly still felt that her son needed to understand how grave his actions were. If Harry and Hermione had not been looking for him and if Sirius and Remus had not gotten there as quickly as they did......well. Molly shivered at the potential outcome of her musings. She knew that Sirius and Harry had both warned Ron against going into the grove. She and Arthur had as well, so there had really been nothing to excuse his behavior.
She should have realized that Ron would send word to Harry as soon as possible, so she had not been too surprised when Xerxes had arrived mid morning with a concerned missive from Sirius. Sirius had been almost shameful with the way he had played on her attachment to Harry. Speaking fluent parent, he had both complimented her parenting skills and worry as he skillfully waxed poetic about how morose Harry had become upon hearing of Ron's intended absence. He may have even hinted about the possibility that Harry was considering passing on the match himself over the guilt of attending when his best mate would not be allowed to.
Now, Molly Weasley was not one to go back on a punishment once it had been imposed, but she had to admit that it was hard looking into her youngest son's devastated blue eyes when they had informed him. She also felt horrendously guilty that Ron's actions had led to Harry being punished when he tried to help her son. Sirius' inquiry as to whether or not she and Arthur could impose some other restriction in place of the ban on the match got her thinking and, after a fashion, she thought she had come up with an appropriate solution. She just didn't know if Sirius would be willing to do it.
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"Well?" Harry repeated, concerned about the frown on his godfather's face.
"Well," Sirius began, "Molly says that Ron can come with us," he paused as Harry pumped his fist in the air and whooped, "if I agree to punish him for disobeying me instead of them banning him from the trip."
Harry's face fell at this most unexpected of news. "You aren't going to really do that, are you?" he asked a little incredulous at such a suggestion.
Sirius shrugged and raked his fingers through his hair. "I am if you two want him to be able to come. Isn't that what you told me you wanted this morning?"
Harry's eyes grew wide as he realized that his godfather was really going to follow through on the ludicrous suggestion.
"Isn't there another way? I mean..," he stammered, grasping for ideas.
Sirius gazed at him thoughtfully. "Harry, I'm not so sure that this is a bad idea. After all, Ron was in my care when this happened. I gave him plenty of warning when he arrived and he still disobeyed me."
Harry's mouth dropped open. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "But..but he's not your son. How can you even think about doing this to him?"
His godfather let out a small huff as he knitted his eyebrows.
"Well, I wasn't your grandfather's son either, but he still punished me when I needed it. Quite frankly, as I assume Ron is going to be spending a fair amount of time at our home as years go on, I don't think that it is necessarily a bad idea for him to understand that actions have consequences for him here as well. And," he said sternly as he looked pointedly at the boy, "you should be aware that, during the course of our correspondence this morning, I have decided to give Arthur and Molly the authority to punish you as well if you act up while in their house.
Harry blanched as he took in the implication of that statement. After hearing about how badly Ron caught it when he got home, he wasn't so sure that he would be interested in visiting the Burrow any time in the near future. Just in case. Harry grimaced at the thought. Scrunching up his forehead, he dared a glance at his godfather.
"Well, what...what are you going to do to him?" he asked, a little concerned for his mate. Not that he thought Sirius would be overly harsh, but he was worried just the same.
"That is between Ron and myself. If he wants you to know, he can tell you. Otherwise, it really isn't any of your business. No more than it is Ron's business as to how I punished you." Sirius didn't want to set any bad precedents if they were to go through with this new arrangement. Both boys were entitled to their privacy after all. It would not be up to him to inform one of them as to the details of the chastisement of the other.
Harry scowled briefly, but a stern look from his guardian nipped his rising temper in the bud. There would be no leeway on this issue, but Harry was still concerned. Wanting to avoid further conflict, Sirius sent him back to the library to work. Grudgingly, Harry obeyed. His fit of pique was quieted a bit by the unexpected arrival of a bottle of butterbeer and a plate of his favorite biscuits. A peace offering from his godfather who had severly limited his sugar intake since the move.
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Gulping, red faced and embarrassed, Ron sat uncomfortably in one of the stuffed chairs in Sirius' study as he held the steaming mug in his hands.
He had not known what to expect when he arrived at Celestial Court. His parents had merely informed him that he was to make a sincere apology to Sirius for taking advantage of his hospitality and to submit to whatever punishment Harry's godfather saw fit to dole out. In Ron's mind, he still didn't know Sirius all that well and almost a full year of fearing the man, even though it later turned out to be all unnecessary, had an effect on what Ron perceived to be the man's darker nature.
So, it had been quite a surprise when Sirius had behaved so unexpectedly that it completely unnerved the boy in a way he could not even fathom.
Ron had heard Sirius and Harry talking in heated voices outside the study. Just before the man had entered, enough of the conversation could be heard to determine that his mate was being scolded and sent into the library, with a clear warning to stay there.
Ron steeled himself against the wrath of his mate's godfather. He was taken aback by Sirius' casual nature as he strode over to where Ron was sitting across from the large desk. Turning, Sirius had leaned against it as he crossed his arms. His expression was not angry, just a little sad. Ron had been expecting another rather vocal telling off, at least to start with. But Sirius just stood there, looking at Ron as if they had all the day in the world. He had not noticed Sirius cast a silencing charm on the room as he entered.
Finally working up the courage, Ron had swallowed three or four lumps in his throat and had somehow managed to croak out his very sincere apology. Sirius didn't yell or lecture. He just stood placidly, his eyes kind, as he expressed his appreciation of the words of remorse. Somehow, for some reason, a dam of emotions broke forth from Ron's chest as a result of the patient easy going manner of the taller man.
Without realizing what he was doing, or why, Ron found himself unburdening himself of a flood of repressed resentment and anger and fear. He found himself confessing that the whole trouble started as a result of being bored when he had not had anyone willing or able to spend time with him. He spoke at length of his frustration of being a member of a large family that sometimes didn't have the time or resources to address all of the children's needs equally. He spoke of his embarrassment as the target of cruel taunts by the Slytherin's over his family's financial state and of his own burning guilt over feeling ashamed of the parents who were so loving and kind to him. He even admitted to being jealous of Harry from time to time and his distress over feeling that way about his best mate who had been deprived of so much that Ron just took for granted. Finally, he described the events that led up to his foray into the grove, his ears going a horrible shade of red as he described the shell and how special it had been to him.
During this entire emotional out pour, Sirius had just stood and listened attentively. He didn't know where it all was coming from until he realized that Ron was carrying around a large burden of emotions and he had needed the catharsis of release to be found in discussion with a impartial third party. Finally, as it seemed to be winding down, Sirius had put a comforting arm around the redhead that he was rapidly becoming fond of and let the boy sob a bit as his tension was released.
Sirius had led Ron over to a more comfortable chair as he called for a mug of hot chocolate for both of them. The warm sweet liquid felt good against Ron's raw parched throat. While he waited for the boy to recover somewhat, Sirius returned the gesture of trust as he shared some of his family stories, assuring Ron that all families and friends have their ups and downs. Without excusing Ron's behavior, he also spoke of the gripping lure that the grove had had on Regulus, explaining that some people were just more affected than others. Seeing Ron's shock and remorse at this news, he very sincerely told the boy that he would always find a sympathetic ear in Sirius if he ever just needed to talk and assured him of confidentiality.
Getting back to the matter at hand, Ron repeated his apologies after the cocoa was drained, a little bit of fear returning. Without saying another word, Sirius had gently bent him over the desk and delivered five fast swats across the backside before giving him a comforting embrace. It was all that was needed.
Sirius had let Ron visit with Harry briefly in the library, reminding both boys that they were on restriction before accompanying Ron home to the Burrow. Assuring Molly that everything was in hand, he received confirmation that Ron would be among the Weasley contingent next week for the match. She also extended an invitation to dinner on Sunday night for Harry and himself to celebrate a promotion for Arthur at work.
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When Sirius returned home, he nodded approvingly at the progress Harry had made with his letters and allowed his godson to walking in the woods for a bit before tea. He made his way into parlor and placed a fire call to Remus.
Harry had still been a bit apprehensive regarding the unknown events in the study that day. Before being sent to bed at at the unfairly early hour of eight o'clock, he had tried to get his godfather to tell him what had happened, only to be gently rebuffed. Sirius reminded him that Ron could now go to the Cup and Harry, finally realizing that that should be comfort enough, gave his godfather a tight hug and gratefully thanked him, dropping the subject.
At the lovely dinner that Molly served Sunday night, Sirius waited until everyone was distracted before placing a small object in Ron's hand. Ron's face broke out into a large heart warming smile at the site of the pretty little seashell sitting once more on his palm. Wordlessly, he nodded his thanks. Sirius gave his shoulder a warm squeeze briefly before making his way back across the room to rescue his godson from suffocating under another one of Molly's mother hugs.
Sometimes, there were just things a godfather had to do.
