Molly Weasley was livid.
Over ten years ago she had lost her youngest son, Ronald. There had been complications at birth, and she had never even had the chance to hold her young son; she had given birth to a stillborn child. In the hours that followed she had been inconsolable, unwilling to entertain been her husband in her grief.
That was when the Ashari had come. Mari had been her name, and she had made Molly an offer; a child to replace the one she had lost. A child they could not keep, a child that needed a home and a loving family. These things she could provide.
And she had agreed.
The child had been nearly indistinguishable from her own family, and Arthur had taken the baby in without a second thought. The children had never questioned it, and if little Ron perhaps looked too old for a newborn ... Well, Bill and Charlie had little enough experience with babies as it was, how were they to tell the difference? Fred and George had certainly been too young to even remember the birth of their younger brother, and Percy had remained uninterested in the addition to the family, already wrapped up in his picture books – a love of reading that would follow him throughout his life.
So it had been their secret. Select nurses obliviated, and Arthur's job at the ministry had allowed him to falsify records with an alarming ease.
And that had been that. Ron was hers, whether she had given birth to hi or not. She had never expected to see the Ashari again, had fought long and hard to forget that she had ever come into contact with these secretive people in the first place. She had never WANTED to see the again.
But here he was, this enigmatic young man with his narrow features and pale skin, pure white hair falling softly around his face. He was handsome, there was no denying that fact. But he was also cold as ice, staring at her with those bright blue eyes that reminded her so much of her where Ron was warmth and light, this man was cold and without feeling, without remorse of empathy.
"You can't do this." Molly's voice was desperate as she spoke, a desperation only a mother can understand. A mother who could do nothing to protect her youngest son from what she knew was coming.
The man merely raised one pale eyebrow, a sort of dark humor twisting his lips into a semblance of a smile. "He is not yours to keep, Molly." He spoke her name as though he had any right of familiarity, and it grated on her nerves - as though he had any right to be here at all.
"You gave him up!" The man had spoken not a word, but Molly continued anyway. "You didn't want him!"
"The laws of my people are neither your concern, nor your privelage to know. You have done as we asked, but now it is time for him to return home."
So cold, so without emotion, or remorse, or empathy. Would they teach Ron to be just like him? Molly shivered at the coldness int he man's eyes, her mind whirling as she desperately sought some way to convince him, some way to make him understand.
..
Eladrin stared at the woman before him, a small smile twisting his lips as he reached out, seeking the touch of another Ashari. The boy that she had named Ron was only part Ashari, but that was enough. He was here, surrounded by other children, happy. His siblings? Those he thought of as his siblings, at any rate.
Eladrin focused on the woman before him for a moment, considering his next words. In the end, he decided on silence as he caught hold of the essence of the one he believed to be his cousin, giving a sharp pull with his magical core. In a blink, a tall red-headed boy was there, stumbling a little as he stared dazedly around him. "Wha-"
"Ron!" Molly gave a sharp cry, taking a step forward only to be stopped when Eladrin moved between her and Ron, one hand held up in warning even as he turned his attention to the youth.
"You are alright. I brought you here." Eladrin's voice was soft, his earlier coldness gone as he sought to soothe his younger cousin. A gentle hand on the back of a red head, and Ron, who had been about to make a move backward, fell limply into his arms. Eladrin easily lifted the tall, lanky form into his arms, turned toward Molly as he did so. He simply rose one eyebrow, both he and the form of Ron Weasley disappeared from sight, leaving Molly Weasley to collapse to the ground, one hand covering her mouth in a vain attempt to hold back the sobs she knew would come regardless.