AN: Wow, I suck. Like majorly. I would've update earlier but school is at the bottom pit of Hell at the moment and. Ugh. Life. But anyway! Here's chapter 2, I literally have no idea where I'm going with this, but uh… yeah go with the flow and all that jazz…. *cough*
It's nearly dusk when Ron stumbles into Privet Drive with a soft whoosh. He immediately yanks the Invisibility Cloak around him that he'd taken from underneath Harry's cold body buried somewhere in rubble of the Great Hall. Casting a Disillusionment Charm on himself, Ron moved smoothly from the shadow of one streetlight to another and into the well-kept bushes of Number 4 Privet Drive.
Crack!
A truly inhuman smile flits over his face, as he sees a bedraggled elf stumble into Privet Drive, and he jumps.
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"Aarrgghhh!"
Harry jerks up at the yell that comes through his open window.
From downstairs he hears Uncle Vernon give a forced laugh. "Hooligans. Don't know what the policemen do these days."
Heart pounding, Harry ran to the window and fumbles with the lock, throwing it open. He looks out into the empty street heart pounding frantically. A flash of red is illuminated by a lamp post but by the time Harry tries to track it, it's gone.
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Ron stares up at the open window of Harry's room wondering how in the world he's supposed to let Harry survive this summer alone. There's no way he's going to be able to get Harry out of the Dursley's house with a reasonable pretext. After all, last year he did nothing but try to avoid Harry, except when he knew he needed it. A sharp pain went through his chest; all last year, he'd been running on adrenaline trying to keep Harry from getting himself killed, and now, the summer. As if he didn't have enough to do. As hard as he tries, Ron fails to keep a fond expression from his face pondering how many more times he's going to have to break the original timeline to keep Harry breathing.
Wind whooshes over him as Albus Dumbledore apparates into view next to him.
"Mr. Weasley." He greets Ron quietly peering at him over his half-moon glasses.
"Hello, Professor." Ron doesn't turn to look at him, instead choosing to gaze at Vernon Dursley's well-kept hydrangea bushes.
"And what might you be doing here at this hour, Mr. Weasley?"
Ron rolls his eyes. "Don't patronize me, Professor." He says tiredly and honestly, he is. There hasn't been a single night since this entire fiasco that he has gotten a good night's sleep. "You've already figured it out."
"I had an inkling." Dumbledore shifts his feet as if nervous, but this is ridiculous. Ron has never seen Dumbledore nervous. "How do you propose to keep this charade up Mr. Weasley? Harry will need your support before long."
Ron glares at the hydrangea bush wishing he could set it on fire. "That's interesting Professor, as throughout last year, I was the one keeping Harry alive." He switches his glare to Dumbledore, ignoring the sudden ache in his chest.
Dumbledore gazes at him with watery blue eyes, which Ron studiously ignores. "You do yourself a great discredit Mr. Weasley." Ron snorts, he doesn't think so at all. No, he thinks, he's been in self-pity for quite a while now. Dumbledore continues undeterred. "I have no idea what you have been through, but it must have been something to make you come running back. Nevertheless, you must make a plan Mr. Weasley, if you do not want the future to repeat itself." Ron turns back to stare at the bush, hands shaking. "I suggest re-kindling your friendship with Mr. Potter."
"He might remem-"
"He will not. There is no possible way that your meeting would rekindle memories that have never existed in this reality." Dumbledore said clearly. "But I would suggest you keep a reasonable distance, no reason to make him suspicious."
Ron snorts again. "So you want me to be his best friend again, but not enough so that he doesn't suspect anything. How the bloody hell am I supposed to that?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Oh I'm sure you'll figure something out. After all, I am talking to the one wizard I know, who willingly reunited with his eleven-year old self to save his best friend."
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By the time September rolls around, Ron is paralyzed with guilt, and nerves, and fear. What if Harry recognizes him? What if something had happened to him over the summer, and Ron could have saved him? What if- oh bloody hell, he's going to lose his mind.
All the way to King's Cross, Ron nerves are stretched tight, and he's gripping his wand so tightly, sparks keep flying out of it.
"I don't know what's gotten into you Ronald Weasley!" Molly Weasley – Ron found it very hard to call her 'mum' after seeing her get killed right in front of him – snapped at him crossly, after his wand spat some sparks at her creating a nasty burn.
Ron mumbles something that he hopes can pass for an apology and immediately distances himself from his family and loses himself in the crowd.
It's almost pathetic, the amount of relief he feels in seeing Harry's jet black hair weaving through the crowd, his Muggle clothes standing almost painfully out, in the sea of black.
Harry catches sight of him, and the way his eyes widen almost send Ron into cardiac arrest, but all he does is frown at Ron, a little thoughtfully, and turn away. Ron follows at a safe distance, ducking into the crowd whenever he catches sight of his family, in no mood to put up with strange questions.
When the train pulls away from the station and is trundling steadily down the country side, Ron finally manages to relax and is gladder than ever that he managed to get the elf to stay away from Harry. It had taken all of his amazing persuasion.
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Harry is glad that at least this year things seem to be going normal. He sees the strange red-haired boy a few times, over the course of the school year, despite the fact that they're in same the year, there's no sign of him. Except, of course, for Defense Against the Dark Arts, where he does nothing but glare relentlessly at Lockhart. Harry wants to laugh every time he sees him, slumped over his desk looking as if he's trying send daggers into Lockhart with his eyes.
"Right then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" Harry jerked back to attention just to see him open the cage door containing… blue insects?
"Pixies." Harry jerks again as the boy says in his ear with a look of pure amusement.
"You think this is funny?" Harry asks incredulously gesturing to chaos in the room; Lockhart is struggling to yank his wand from two screeching pixies, Neville is hanging from the chandelier by his robes, there's ink pouring off walls, and books are being torn out of their bindings.
The boy shrugs, blue eyes lighting up, making Harry feel oddly reminiscent about something. "What's not to like? It's hilarious." He grins at Harry running a hand through his red hair, smile fading when he notices Harry staring at him. "Don't have a sense of humor, do you mate?"
"I'm not your mate." Harry snaps, and instantly feels bad for it when the boy flinches. "Sorry, I-"
"No, it's fine." The boy grins at him, but it looks so faked that Harry feels even worse.
"I'm really sorry-" Harry tries again but the boy waves his hand.
"It's fine." With a quelling look at him, the boy waves his wand in a long sweeping motion, and instantly all the pixies freeze. With another sweep of his wand, they're deposited back into the cage, and he's gone; Harry left standing in the empty classroom feeling as if he'd missed a step going up a staircase.
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Harry and Hermione are sitting in the common room, Harry trying to copy Hermione's work without her noticing and Hermione is, as usual, reading a rather large book entitled The Magical Herbs Of Southern Asia, when the portrait door slams open everyone freezes, startled by the loud sound.
The red-haired boy stumbles through, a nasty gash on his cheek and a split lip. Harry and Hermione watch curiously as he trips on his way up the boys dorm gaining unkind laughs from two 6th year boys seated by the window. Harry follows his retreat and hurries after him instantly ignoring Hermione's shocked look as he tosses his book to the ground. The boy is sitting by the windows stroking Hedwig gently, a napkin held to face. It's already red.
"That looks nasty," Harry observes, and jumps when the boy snaps his wand out, eyes fierce.
"Oh," the boy falters and sticks the wand back to- wherever it came from- and settles back down, coaxing Hedwig back from where she had flown away. "It's you."
"Look," Harry begins awkwardly, "I'm sorry-"
"You don't have to apologize-" the boy begins, already shaking his head.
"No," Harry insists, "I'm sorry, you've done nothing but help me, and if it weren't for you.." He trails off.
The boy looks at him strangely. "Doubt the pixies would've hurt that badly mat-." He cuts himself off, and Harry feels even worse.
"I meant last year. Thank you for that." Harry clarifies moving closer noting how the boy tenses hand wandering to his pocket again.
"It was nothing," the boy mutters shoving both his hands into his pockets and staring out the window. And for Harry, sitting there in the moonlight quietly, it feels like something forgotten.
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It's his second Quidditch match of the season when Harry spots the Bludger heading for him, and only him. He grits his teeth and manages to pull off a dangerous swerve that nearly sends him into one of the goal posts.
-It's agonizing pain when the Bludger hits him, and he's lying on the sand, as the Bludger explodes around him, and he sees the strange red-haired boy shoving his wand back into his pocket and walking away with a murderous look on his face.
So that's where he keeps it; Is Harry's last thought before everything fades to black.
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Harry is so used to seeing the red-haired boy everywhere now, - in the halls, the dorm, showing up at the Halloween debacle- that he doesn't even care when he shows up panting at Hermione's bedside, cheeks redder than his hair, and eyes like stone. He's fixed on Hermione's still form and when looks up, Harry feels ice down his back at his expression.
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It's only after the whole incident with Tom Riddle and Dumbledore's office, and an elf- Merlin's beard, that Harry sees him. He's strolling down the side of the lake, flicking pieces of toast to the giant squid in the lake, with a serene expression, and then looks directly up at Harry, and gives him a nod, before turning back to the squid. The encounter leaves Harry more confused than ever.
And I got this DONE! Ugh, this chapter was a witch to write- and I apologize for the extreme crappiness of this, but I'm sleep-deprived and have ton of work left to be done- so - off to sleep!
I don't know when I'll next update, but seriously guys, thank you so, so much for sticking with this, you're the best. Reviews make me very happy, and make me write more!
-DarkPrincessFangirl