AUTHOR'S NOTES: "Mirror in the bathroom, please don't freak; the door is locked, just you and me..." I know what you're thinking..."My, Uncle BlackHawk, what an unusual and innapropriate line on which to open yor Author's Notes!" Hehehehe! Ah, young padawan (okay, I totally hated using that line just now...makes me look like a STAR WARS geek, and while I like the original films -- what you younger people might think of as movies 4, 5, and 6 -- I don't geek out for it...but dammit, it just sort of rolled off the tongue...err...fingertips as I was typing and...ah shit, I'm rambling...) *Ahem* Let's try this again... Ah, young padawan (grr!!) you couldn't be more wrong!!! Anyone who knows my writing (either from AFTERMATH, some of my one-shots, or from my blog...which, y'know, I really should show some love and update soon) knows how much I enjoy using song lyrics...wait for it...as a TITLE for my stories (anyone whose read my songfic, EVERY BLOODY THING SHE DOES IS MAGIC, will know my stand on song lyrics in a story).
Well, MIRROR, MIRROR is bound to be a long story, no surprise then that I should go back to using my chapter titling (y'know...that word needs an "e" in it, otherwise it looks a bit dirty) convention. Okay, so does ANYONE see where I'm going with this?! "Mirror in the Bathroom", which is the title of this chapter, is from a SONG!!! Yes!!! In fact, it's the title (okay, I'm starting to giggle every time I type the word "title" now...how immature am I???) of the song. "Mirror in the Bathroom" is a song by the English Beat (although inside the U.K., they're just called the Beat...not a joke...completely serious) and it's a really snappy tune (great, now I sound like Tom Hanks in "That Thing You Do"). Sounds a bit like Oingo Boingo (or Boingo as I think they call themselves now). Seriously, if you wanna check out the song, Google "Mirror in the Bathroom"...your top result is probably gonna be a YouTube link to the video of the song. Click on it! Don't be afraid! Uncle BlackHawk wouldn't steer you wrong!
I have to confess something here: I completely forgot that this was a posting week! I only remembered about an hour ago, as the thought "Am I posting this weekend" rang through my head. In my defense, it has been a rough week full of snowstorms, funerals, sleepless nights, and a burgeoning case of the flu. To be honest, I don't feel UP to posting. I just feel like crawling into bed, closing my eyes, and passing out until my headache, sore throat, runny nose, and stopped-up ear goes away. You guys will forgive me for not posting this week, right? A funny author's note is all you need to get you through the next two weeks, right?
Why do I suddenly have the feeling as though there's a red laser dot being projected onto the center of my forehead??????
If nothing else, Uncle BlackHawk is a trooper and he cares about his readers (people keep calling you guys my fans, but seriously...I don't have the kind of hubris in me to make that claim). So, here you go, people...Chapter 3. I know you guys are wonering why Dumbledore was waiting for Ron in the bathroom...now you will know!!! But first...Uncle BlackHawk needs to take care of a little business!
GRATUITOUS THANKS: It's reviewer shout-out time!! Yeehaw! If you reviewed, you know who you are; if you haven't, well let me enlighten you! CutewithAcapital-Q, ObsessedRHShipper, kareem33, TiffanyM, MaNdErS20100, Alquimista, zsdvnn, allanfrontrow, Rosiline, Pattox0111, Avanell, HopelessRomantic79, Cantletharrygo, omega13a, dreAmer399, Supernatural Goddess, Trude, skippyboo and Bluerain22 have taken the time to review, and that makes them elligible to join the exclusive BlackHawk Reviewers Elite Club, which includes discounts on all future BlackHawk stories and 10% off your first purchase at the BlackHawk gift shop!
OBSEQUIOUS COWTOWING: Time for me now to thank my awesome Beta Reader, CutewithAcapital-Q. This story has her stamp of approval, and that's good enough for me! Oh, and speaking of Her Cuteness, once your done reading this chapter, go on over to Cute's profile page (you can find her easily in the Favorite Author's section of MY profile page, if your too lazy to do much legwork) and check out her latest story Pork Chop. It's very funny...and definitely worth checking out...just like ALL her stories!!! Seriously...DO IT!!!
DISCLAIMER: These are all JK Rowlings toys...I just need to remember to put them all back in her toybox when I'm done playing with 'em.
MIRROR, MIRROR
Chapter 3
"Mirror in the Bathroom"
Ron stopped dead in his tracks as he entered the bathroom and found Professor Dumbledore standing there with a slight smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eye, seeming almost as if he was waiting for Ron to arrive. Ron was overwhelmed by feelings of shock, confusion, and awkwardness.
"Professor Dumbledore, what're you…err…that is to say…I'm surprised to see you, sir," Ron said, stumbling over himself. He wasn't used to having much direct contact with the school's headmaster. That had always been Harry's specialty…and he certainly wasn't used to having contact with the old professor in the bathroom of all places.
"I must admit, I'm not quite as surprised to see you, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said as he looked down at Ron over the top of his half-moon spectacles, "Though I am pleased to see that you're looking much more upright than the last time I saw you."
"About that," Ron said, reminded of what Neville had told him, "I don't remember anything that happened between entering the portal at the train station and waking up in my dorm a short while ago. Neville said that I was sick and that I spent last night in the hospital wing."
"Mr. Longbottom only told you what was told to him," Dumbledore said cryptically, "But all things will be revealed to you in due time, Mr. Weasley. For now, though, perhaps we should discuss why we are here tonight."
"Yeah…well…err…I mean…this is the Prefects' Bathroom, Professor. Don't you have…I mean…aren't there…erm…facilities for the…err…teachers to use?" Ron was clearly intimidated by Dumbledore's presence, but then who expects to find the school headmaster waiting for them in the lavatory?
"There are, indeed, faculty facilities for the teachers and staff; you are absolutely correct, Ronald," Dumbledore nodded, giving him an appreciative sort of half-smile, "However, since I came to see you, and you are a prefect, this seemed like a good place to conduct our business, away from prying eyes."
"You came to see me…in the Prefects' Bathroom?" Ron was clearly having a hard time with all this. Despite all the strangeness he'd had to adjust to over the last couple of hours, Dumbledore waiting for him in the loo had to top the list.
"I know this is an unusual place to meet, Ronald," Dumbledore said, trying to be as comforting as possible, "But as we have unusual business to discuss, it seemed fitting."
"Unusual business?" Ron repeated, looking dumbfounded, "I don't understand, sir. What business could we possibly have to discuss? Is it about my prefect's badge? Because everyone reckons I'd gotten it by mistake."
"No, Ronald, you were indeed chosen to be a prefect, though I fear perhaps not for the sincerest of reasons," Dumbledore said, frowning slightly, "However, that is not the business that brings us here tonight."
"Then what…?" Ron's face was a mask of confusion.
"Nature abhors a vacuum, Ronald," the headmaster said, that familiar, knowing twinkle missing from his eyes, replaced by something else…something that reminded Ron of when Cedric Diggory was killed, "I suppose that is why there is no Nature in the vacuum of space; just vast amounts of emptiness."
"Reckon that's why they call it space," Ron quipped. He had muttered the comment, as if to himself, but nevertheless, Dumbledore appeared to have heard him loud and clear.
"Quite right, Mr. Weasley," the old professor said, smiling slightly as he clapped the young redhead on the shoulder, "Quite right."
Ron blushed, not having meant for his comment to have been overheard. He nervously ran his fingers through his disheveled red hair. "Err…you were saying…about Nature and a boring vacuum?"
Dumbledore gave Ron an appraising look and smiled fondly at him. "You truly do possess a singular wit, Mr. Weasley."
"Err…thank you?" Ron wasn't sure that was a compliment, but better safe than sorry.
"No need to thank me," Dumbledore said, waving a hand dismissively at him, "Thank you for being able to find the humor in even the direst of situations. Now, as I was saying, Ronald, do you know anything about parallel dimensions?"
"Err…no," Ron didn't want to sound stupid, but he wasn't about to lie to Dumbledore. Dumbledore always seemed to know everything, so surely he'd know if Ron was lying.
"Of course…parallel dimensions aren't covered in Hogwarts' standard curriculum," Dumbledore said, frowning slightly, "Unfortunately, Ronald, I need for you to understand certain things, whether they are taught here at Hogwarts or not."
"A-and these parallel dimensions," Ron stammered nervously, "They have something to do with this vacuum business?"
Dumbledore clasped his hands behind his back and nodded sagely, "They do indeed, Mr. Weasley."
"Then what is a parallel dimension, Professor?" the young man asked, wanting to understand what exactly the aging headmaster was getting at and why it sounded like something from a Muggle gemometry course he'd heard Hermione talking about over the summer.
"Perhaps a bit of comfort before I explain, Mr. Weasley," the school-master replied as he conjured two squashy chairs, similar to the ones in the Gryffindor common room, and set them facing each other. He sat in one and offered the other to Ron, "Please sit, Ronald."
Ron sat, although it seemed more than a bit odd to be sitting in a comfortable chair in the middle of the Prefects' Bathroom; but, then, this whole conversation was more than a bit odd. He nervously thanked Professor Dumbledore and the headmaster continued on.
"Imagine if you will, Ronald, that this is the world on which we live," Dumbledore waved his hand and a blue-and-green orb about the size of a Bludger appeared and floated in front of them. Ron recognized it from a model of the solar system he'd seen in Astronomy class. It was the planet Earth.
Ron nodded in acceptance of Professor Dumbledore's premise that this floating ball was their world, "Alright."
"Now, imagine, Ronald, that separated by the merest veil of magic, there are worlds, universes, dimensions that are nearly identical to our own," Dumbledore waved his hand again, and a number of similar looking orbs appeared, lined up in a row, each one separated by a swirling mist of luminous purple energy, "These are parallel dimensions. Do you know how many parallel universes there are, Ronald?"
"I don't know," Ron said, shrugging. He looked at the line of planets in front of the old wizard, counting the worlds, "Five?"
"Not quite," Dumbledore, smiled. He waved his hand again, and the floating orbs multiplied, taking up more space between the headmaster and his pupil.
"Fifty-two?" Ron guessed again, randomly grabbing a number out of his head as he looked at the army of planets now floating in front of them.
Dumbledore waved his hand again, and the orbs multiplied once more, and the Prefects' Bathroom was nearly filled with floating Bludger-sized planet Earths (or should that be planets Earth?). "There are an infinite number of parallel dimensions, Mr. Weasley, and by that same token, an infinite number of Earths; all appear similar to our own, and indeed some of them are very similar. Some, however, are quite different."
"This one, perhaps," Dumbledore continued, pointing at one of the floating Earths randomly, "Might be a world where magic doesn't exist and everyone is a Muggle…a dreary world indeed. This one," he pointed at another of the orbs, "Might be in a universe where we are all a bunch of talking animals or hand-puppets or who knows what else. On this one," Dumbledore pointed at a third Earth, smiling up at Ron, "The Chudley Cannons have been Number One in the League for the past hundred years."
Ron started chuckling at the absurdity of the things Dumbledore was saying. A world where everyone was a Muggle? A planet where he, himself, Ron Weasley, was a talking animal…a weasel perhaps? Or a universe dominated by animate hand-puppets?! All these things were laughably absurd…but none so absurd as the final one the headmaster had mentioned; a world in which the Cannons were not in the basement of the Quidditch League standings, year-in, year-out. Yeah, right.
"As you see, Ronald, the possibilities can be quite amusing. However," Dumbledore waved his hand and all but two of the orbs disappeared, "Let us speak of these two worlds. They are identical…to a point. On both worlds, magic exists. There are wizards and witches and yes, Muggles, as well. Both saw the rise and inadvertent defeat of Lord Voldemort at the miniscule hands of a one-year-old boy named Harry Potter. On both of these worlds, an eleven-year-old Harry Potter was befriended aboard the Hogwarts Express by a remarkable young lad who would never quite understand his own importance to the universe…a young boy named Ronald Weasley…"
Dumbledore gave Ron a pointed look as he said this. Ron's eyebrows rose quizzically as he listened. How could he possibly be important to the universe? He wasn't even important to his own family! Surely the old headmaster must have gone barmy!
"I assure you, Mr. Weasley, I'm quite sane," Dumbledore grinned, causing Ron to blanch visibly as he wondered how it was that Dumbledore always seemed to know what people were thinking, "On each of these two worlds you met young Harry Potter and became his very first friend. On this one, Harry was sorted into Gryffindor and the pair of you battled a troll to save Miss Granger's life, struggled your way through a series of puzzles to reach the Philosopher's Stone, entered the Chamber of Secrets to rescue your sister, Ginny, faced down a convicted mass-murderer who turned out to be Harry's godfather, and you watched as Harry won the Tri-Wizard Tournament only to see that victory tainted by the death of Cedric Diggory and the return of Voldemort."
Ron shuddered once again at the mention of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, and looked at the orb Dumbledore was indicating. That was certainly how events had played out. It was the abridged version, of course, but it was a fairly accurate summary of the last four years of Ron's life.
"However, on this world," Dumbledore said, pointing at the other floating globe, "Things played out a bit differently once you and young Mr. Potter reached Hogwarts. On this world, Mr. Potter was sorted into Slytherin."
"No!!" Ron exclaimed, unwilling to believe that his best friend…a person who exemplified the bravery of House Gryffindor…could ever be sorted into a House who valued cunning and self-preservation over everything else. Harry was Ron's best friend…loved by him as if he were a brother…and there was no way Ron could believe such a thing, "Harry's a Gryffindor! He became the youngest Seeker in a hundred years on the Gryffindor Quidditch team! He defeated Quirrell and Voldemort and saved the Philosopher's Stone! He destroyed Riddle's diary and the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets! He fought off about a hundred Dementors and saved Sirius Black! He fought You-Know-Who at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament! Harry's a hero, he wouldn't be a Slytherin!"
Ron had jumped up out of his chair during his impassioned rant, and the kindly old headmaster reached a wrinkled hand up to gently clasp his shoulder, "Please calm down, Mr. Weasley. As I said, there are many different worlds, and yes, on your world, that is exactly who Harry Potter is…a hero. In this universe, on this world, however…"
"Wait…what do you mean this world?" Ron looked a bit frightened as realization dawned and he started to understand what the old headmaster was actually saying.
"This world, Ronald," Dumbledore began explaining, trying to keep his voice soothing for the sake of the young man's nerves, "This very world you are standing on right now…is not your world."
"What…?"
"You have come from your world," Dumbledore said, pointing at the orb he had indicated while describing the familiar events to Ron a few moments earlier, "To this world," the headmaster now pointed at the second orb; the one in which he said Harry Potter was a Slytherin.
"How…?"
"How? By magic, of course, Ronald," Dumbledore said with the slightest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth, "There is very little that cannot be accomplished by magic, Mr. Weasley."
"Well…what am I doing here?" he asked, thoroughly confused now. How could he be in one of these parallel dimensions Dumbledore spoke of? That was positively mad!
"Ah, that brings us back to our discussion of Nature abhorring a vacuum," Dumbledore said, nodding, "As I said, there is very little that magic cannot accomplish. Returning the dead to a living state is one such thing that cannot be accomplished, not even by magic. You were brought here because this world needs Ronald Weasley…and this world's Ronald Weasley is, I am most saddened to say, dead."
"Dead?!" Ron paled at the headmaster's words, and he felt his head start to spin. His knees gave out and Ron collapsed heavily into the chair behind him; he looked as if he was about to pass out, "I don't…I don't understand, Professor. I…I'm dead?"
"Listen to me, Ronald," Dumbledore said, trying to calm Ron down and get him to understand, "The Ron Weasley who lived on this world is dead…you, however, are still very much alive."
"I still don't quite understand," Ron admitted, taking deep breaths to calm himself down, "How did I…I mean…he…die?"
The twinkle left Dumbledore's eyes and his face took on a gravely serious expression. He gave a great heaving sigh before he spoke again. "Two days ago, there was an attack at the Weasley home."
"My family!" Ron yelled, moving to the edge of his seat, eyes wide with panic, "I mean…his…bloody Hell! Are they alright?!"
"Arthur, Bill, Charlie, and Percy Weasley were all at work during the attack," Dumbledore answered slowly, too slow for Ron's preference, "Molly and Ginny Weasley were shopping in Diagon Alley with the twins, Fred and George, no doubt picking up school supplies. The only one home…the only casualty…was Ron Weasley."
"Who…who did it?" Ron asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He was trembling as he silently thanked whatever Supreme Being was watching from On High that his…that the Weasley…family hadn't been hurt.
"We have our theories, of course," Dumbledore replied softly, "But none that can be spoken of at the moment. We do have people investigating, of course, but until such time as we have found enough evidence to prove out a particular theory, I do not wish to reveal the names of the possible culprits."
"Wh-what do you mean by 'we', Professor?" Ron asked, his faced screwed up in confusion. "Who's 'we'? You mean the Order?"
"I'm afraid, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore responded, looking a bit sorrowful, "That is another thing which cannot be revealed at this time. Although, if you do bear with me, all things will be revealed…in time."
"Let me see if I've got this straight," Ron said, his head swimming dizzily, "There are two worlds…"
"There are many more than two, Ronald, as I have showed you," Dumbledore said, interrupting, "But for our purposes here tonight, yes, we are only concerned with two worlds."
"Right, so two worlds," Ron repeated, "My world…and your world…"
"So far, you are following along admirably," the aged wizard said, nodding.
"Your Ron Weasley died, so you kidnapped me from my world and brought me here to your world," the redhead continued, running a nervous hand through his hair.
"I would take some offense at the notion that you were kidnapped, Mr. Weasley, but you are essentially barking up the right tree, as they say," Dumbledore assured him.
"So…how the bloody Hell do I get back home to my world?!" Ron demanded, forgetting momentarily who he was speaking to. Luckily, Dumbledore was very understanding, and didn't seem the least bit put-out by Ron's tone.
"I'm afraid, Ronald, before you can return to your world, you must perform a certain task on this world," Dumbledore replied, as vaguely as possible, much to Ron's dismay.
"What 'task'?" Ron asked, his temper starting to flare again. Dumbledore had just dropped a bombshell on him and now he was being required to jump through some sort of hoop to be allowed to go back home.
"I'm afraid I can't discuss the task with you just yet, Ronald," the headmaster replied, frowning, "But as I said…"
"All will be revealed in time," Ron repeated, scowling.
Dumbledore smiled brightly, "You do catch on quickly, despite what your instructors would have me believe."
"So, all that rubbish Neville was going on about," Ron said, his mind clearing momentarily as certain pieces of the puzzling night he'd had started to fall into place, "About Harry being a Slytherin, and about me and Hermione hating each other…"
"All true, I'm afraid," Dumbledore said, sadly, "Your relationship with Miss Granger and Mr. Potter is truly special; it is quite a shame that such a relationship did not develop on this world."
"You're telling me," Ron nodded, "Nothing like waking up to find your best friend is a Slytherin and the girl you…err…your other best friend hates your bloody guts."
"I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you, Mr. Weasley," the old wizard said compassionately.
"And what about that flu I supposedly had?" he asked, still trying to piece everything together.
"A necessary lie," Dumbledore replied, "To cover up your absence from the Hogwarts Express, and to explain the unconscious state you were in when you arrived here. We had hoped you would remain sleeping until morning, at which point I was planning to pay you a visit. Alas, the best laid plans of mice and men…and even wizards…oft' times go awry."
"Isn't there anything you can tell me about this task you need me to perform?" Ron asked, desperate to do whatever Dumbledore needed him to do in order to get back home.
"All that I can say at this time is that we need you to be this world's Ronald Weasley," Dumbledore said, folding his hands in his lap, "You must go about your day as if you are from this world."
"But, Professor Dumbledore, you said, yourself, this world's Ron Weasley is dead…surely people know the truth…they'll know I'm not really…err…him."
"Only a select group of people know the truth, Ronald," the headmaster explained, "Myself and a group of my most trusted associates and, for obvious reasons, the Weasley family. To the rest of the world, you are this world's Ron Weasley."
"You left out the killer…or killers," Ron reminded him.
"Perhaps not, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore corrected him, "We believe that it's possible whoever is responsible for our Ron Weasley's murder may be fooled into thinking he's still alive by our little deception. If so, seeing you walking around hale and healthy may draw them out."
"So you want me to be bait, then, is that it?!" Ron was quickly losing all pretense of maintaining his temper.
"Ronald, please," the old schoolmaster sighed, leaning back in his seat, "Your safety is of the utmost importance to us. Even if there wasn't a threat from the person or persons who committed this horrible crime, we would still do everything in our power to keep you safe. For as long as you are here, you will be under the constant watchful eye of myself or one of my most trusted comrades. Nothing will happen to you."
"So I'm not only to be bait," Ron grumbled, "But I'm also to live in a fishbowl! Not only have you brought me to this barmy screwed up world of yours without asking me if I wanted to come, but now you're setting me out to be bait for people who have already killed one Ron Weasley, and to top it all off you're taking away my privacy!"
Ron's anger was at its peak now, and even though he was talking to one of the most powerful and well-respected men in the entire wizarding world, he didn't care. All of this being dropped on him at once was too much.
"I mean, why should I even trust you?!" he yelled standing up and throwing his arms into the air for emphasis, "I mean, yeah, on my world Dumbledore is this great man who everybody loves…but Harry and Hermione are also my best friends! If that's not the case on this shite-heap of a world, then how do I know you can be trusted like my Dumbledore?!"
"Perhaps if you knew some of your own Dumbledore's dirty little secrets, Ronald, you'd see he wasn't the great figure beyond reproach that you're painting him as," Dumbledore said, suddenly looking very tired.
"What do you mean?" Ron asked, suddenly looking worried. Had his Dumbledore gone along with this Dumbledore's plan to steal him away from home and put him in imminent danger?
"Ronald, I'd rather not…"
"You want me to trust you, yeah?" Ron said, narrowing his eyes. He folded his arms across his chest and took up a stance he'd normally adopt when about to begin a real ripper of a row with Hermione, "Give me a reason to trust you."
"You were chosen to be prefect because your world's Dumbledore felt Harry had too much on his plate this year."
The words hung in the air between the aging professor and the young hot-head as silence filled the room. Ron's eyes widened in shock; he reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out the gold and scarlet badge.
"Take it," he spat angrily, tossing the badge into the headmaster's lap, "I don't want it!"
"Ronald…"
"That's how you expect to get me to trust you?!" he snapped, "By proving to me that everyone was RIGHT?! That I DON'T deserve to be a fucking prefect?! That I really AM bloody WORTHLESS?!"
"Ronald, please sit," Dumbledore said, motioning towards the chair Ron had abandoned in his rage, "I did not wish to make you feel bad about yourself…but I did need to make a point to you."
"And what's that?" Ron asked sullenly, his face a mask of hurt and sadness. He had turned his back to the headmaster, not wanting him to see just how much the truth had hurt him.
"That even a man you revere so greatly, as your own world's Dumbledore, can do the right thing for the wrong reason."
Ron turned slightly, looking up at the schoolmaster for some sort of clarification of what he was talking about. Dumbledore once more motioned towards the chair and Ron reluctantly shuffled over and sat down. Once he was seated, Dumbledore patted him affectionately on the knee.
"You deserved to be made prefect, Ronald," the headmaster continued when it was obvious Ron had nothing to say and was quite done yelling, "Not because Harry Potter was overwhelmed with the things he'd have to deal with this year…but because of who you are…based on your own virtues. You have demonstrated year-after-year, a sense of bravery and loyalty in the face of danger that is second-to-none."
Dumbledore reached up and touched the lapel of Ron's robes, and before he knew what the headmaster was up to, Ron's prefect badge was pinned to him and shining brightly.
"You are many times the man that this world's Ron Weasley was, Ronald," Dumbledore said softly, clapping Ron on the shoulder, "And if he deserved to be prefect, then you most certainly do."
"Thanks," Ron mumbled, looking down at his shoes. He couldn't help feeling that the things Dumbledore was saying were done so out of pity instead of any sort of fact.
"I regret hurting your feelings, Ronald, I truly do," Dumbledore continued speaking in a soft, sympathetic tone, "I know that I have most likely failed to gain your trust…"
"Professor," Ron cut across Dumbledore, but even so he tried to be as respectful as possible despite the obvious distress he felt due to his current situation, "I don't know how, but you always seem to know everything…on either world…"
"I do find it beneficial to keep myself apprised of various goings-on," Dumbledore nodded, agreeing. He smiled as it seemed that Ron was coming around and accepting his current predicament.
"You said our worlds stopped being identical at the Sorting Ceremony during First Year," the redhead continued.
"That is a fact, Mr. Weasley," the aging headmaster replied, folding his hands in his lap.
"Would you be able to tell me what happened here for the last four years?" Ron asked, doing his best not to look overwhelmed while asking the question.
"I suppose if you are going to masquerade as this world's Ronald Weasley, you will need rather detailed information," Dumbledore agreed, reaching up to stroke his bearded chin in a pensive manner.
Ron nodded in defeat. There was nothing else for him to do; for him to get home, he had to do whatever it was that this Dumbledore wanted. Ron was forced to resign himself to the fact that if he ever wanted to see the people he loved, he'd have to play along, doing as he was told until such time as he'd done whatever the Hell he needed to do.
"The question," Dumbledore continued, "Is how to go about giving you that detailed information."
"…" Ron said nothing, still looking dejected-yet-expectant at the headmaster.
"Fret not, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said with a smile, "That question was rhetorical."
"Oh…good…" Ron mumbled.
"Aha! Yes, of course!" Dumbledore called out with a broad grin as he brought out his wand, "I need you to clear your mind, Ronald…"
"…" Ron looked at Dumbledore blankly.
"Is your mind cleared of everything?" the wizened old wizard asked expectantly.
"Err…yes…?"
"Good," Dumbledore nodded, moving his wand up to Ron's head, "Now, prepare yourself, Ronald…this may tingle slightly."
Ron nodded and gritted his teeth, setting his jaw. The elderly headmaster briskly tapped Ron atop his head with his wand and suddenly Ron's head began to swim with a cacophony of kaleidoscopic colors. Ron felt as though he were trying to swim through an ocean of treacle, his vision began to go fuzzy and then everything for Ronald Weasley went completely and utterly black.
--End Chapter 3 --
AUTHOR'S END NOTES: Okay, so there ya' go...Chapter 3. I hope everyone managed to understand Dumbledore's explanation of everything. Any questions, feel free to ask me.
Next chapter, we'll see what happened during Mirror!Ron's first year at Hogwarts! See for yourself in two weeks!!!