Chapter 4. Ron Weasley.

How do you get used to the unexpected twists of fate? How do you not get frightened, when the smooth coasting of your life is suddenly caught in a waterfall that tumbles you, whirls you, pushes you under, drops you in a rushing stream, and pushes you back to the surface? How do you foresee and prepare for that?

Ron followed his daughter out of the fireplace – Rose looked back at him a little uncertainly. She had changed a lot – and he had a good idea why.

Theodick strode out his office, wiping his hands on a towel. Behind him, like a puppy, followed Bertie. It seemed that, any moment now, the girl would clutch at the healer's cloak. That's what a powerful character does…

Ron was about to grin, when his eyes met Theo's dark gaze, and he froze:

"Sarah?"

"We must wait," Theodick said calmly, taking a step toward Rose. "What happened?"

"Albus is gone," the girl sighed heavily, taking her mate's burn-covered hands into hers. Ron looked away and tried to smile at Bertie. She turned her face away, but then her lips trembled, she shuddered, and in a moment she ran into Ron's arms, as he knelt before her.

"Tell me that she isn't…?" Bertie whispered, sniffling.

"Of course, not," the man said indignantly, listening as Rose, quietly (to spare Bertie any more fright), told Theo of what they'd seen in James' house. "She will get better, especially now that Theo is treating her."

"He hardly speaks at all," the girl whispered, glancing back at the healer. "But he is so strong… And Al loves him. Did you find Al?"

"No," Ron shook his head, getting to his feet, his eyes on Rose and Theodick. "He… he is with his brother."

Rose smiled sadly, but didn't say anything.

"Let's go, Bertie, you ought to get some rest," Ron's daughter took the younger girl by the shoulders. "Your mum is asleep anyway; is something changes, we'll let you know at once."

"No…"

"Bertie, you have to sleep," calmly, as though they were back in their mountain home, said Ron, stroking Bertie's hair.

"You won't send me back to school, will you?" the girl asked pleadingly. "Not while Mum…"

"Of course, not," Ron said, looking at Rose. His daughter nodded and genly led Bertie to the stairs.

He and Theo were now alone - and tense silence enveloped them. The healer did not seem bothered by it at all.

"If you want to ask something – go ahead," Theodick said, sitting down in the chair and using his wand to light the fireplace.

"Will Sarah survive?" the words were getting out of his throat with difficulty.

"I don't know," the dark eyes did not and would not lie, nor would their owner. "A lot of time was lost."

Ron nodded – it was as though his soul was an ice rink, and sharp blades had started their sliding dance; Hermione used to love skating…

"Where is Hermione?" Ron asked, before he could catch himself.

"She and Mr. Potter went somewhere on Ministry's business," Theo's expression did not change, he seemed to overlook his interlocutor's discomfiture. "I am not sure when they are due back."

Ron nodded, turning away: this man made him feel like a stranger, and a dangerous one at that. Although, come to think of it, he was a stranger here. And he was a danger – to this world that has come together in the past four years.

"Have you learned to control your wolf self?"

Ron started and turned around – Theo was watching him intently. Ah, right, Rose had written him about her boyfriend's working closely with the werewolves after their ringleaders were destroyed. He helped them to tame the beast that was inside every new werewolf.

"Is that important?" Ron got his feelings under control and sank languidly into the chair opposite his future son-in-law.

"What did you feel when you entered James Potter's home?"

Ron looked in surprise at Theodick's unperturbed face, framed by dark hair. What was he getting at?

Theodick straightened in his chair, the corner of his well-defined lips twitched, as though teased by a smirk.

"Something strange is happening…"

Ron started when Rose appeared behind him. She was wrapped in a dark tartan. His daughter sat next to Theo and looked at her father.

She was noticeably worried, and Ron once again noted the changes in her. She became softer, more emotional. As though she now always felt a strong wall she could lean on. The man, next to whom she could show weakness… the way he and Hermione never gave her a chance to be.

"And you must sense it sharper than we can," Theo sat upright, putting his palms together in front of him. "I received a letter from St. Mungo's: they are looking for Xenia. And this," the young healer waved his wand, and a fresh issue of The Magic Tidings lay before Ron. "The new Seeker of the London Lacewings didn't show up for the game."

"And Al is nowhere to be found," Rose got up, clasping her hands, just like Hermione often did. "Merlin forbid, Mum and Uncle Harry find out!"

Ron looked away, down at his large, unmanicured hands.

"Where's Malfoy?" Theo turned his head toward the worried Rose, and she immediately ceased to flounce around the room, as though the healer's mere glance helped to calm her.

"Well, of course," she nodded, "Where there is Malfoy, there is Jim… But Xenia? And why didn't he come to the game?"

"Once we find Malfoy, we'll get all the answers," The said calmly. Rose nodded again, and rushed over to the desk for the quill, to write the note – the addressee was obvious even to Ron. He watched with a faint smile as she was writing the letter to the insufferable Slytherin – biting her lip, swiping her hair out of her eyes. His heart clenched with dull anquish, which he promptly suppressed.

It is a good thing that they are away…

"Someone was at James' house," Theo leaned back in his chair. "A stranger, given the unmistakable wolfish instinct. And a wolf is the same as a dog, in this case…"

Ron raised his eyebrows in surprise: what does a dog have to do with it?!

Rose looked up from her letter – she seemed to have a clearer idea.

"But that won't help us learn more, Theo," Ron's daughter was looking at her mate a tad frightened. "Who knows who that person was?"

"It was someone who left behind an aura of a threat," the healer reminded, turning toward Ron. The other man nodded, because he had definitely sensed something threatening in James Potter's home. "Even this information is useful."

"Let's wait for news from Malfoy," Rose suggested, before interrupting herself: "The time is against us now, isn't it? The scent…"

"Will dissolve," Ron nodded, knowing now what they wanted him to do. "But this is absurd…"

"What exactly?" Theo drew closer to him.

"Well, let's suppose that I shall transform into a wolf. Yes, I will sense many smells and all kinds of things, but it will all be for naught: I will be a wolf, an uncontrollable beast who knows and remembers nothing."

"Daddy, but this is where Theo comes in," Rose put her hand on Ron's shoulder.

"Excuse me?" he asked, confused.

"I can control your mind," the healer remarked laconically.

"You will be a wolf physically, but Theo can block the werewolf from entering your mind. You will be youself."

"Except for the ability to speak," Theo smirked, shrugging his shoulders.

"He has done it many times, Daddy," Rose said softly. An owl sat on her shoulder and the girl busied herself with tying the letter to the bird's leg and letting it out of the window.

"Is this possible?" Ron asked warily, remembering the horrid moments when he transformed, losing first his body, then his self-control, and finally, his mind. It was as though his thoughts were thin threads that broke, one by one, letting loose something scary, dangerous that always lurked in the back of his consciousness. The Wolfbane potion helped strengthen these threads, and he remained himself, but he was weak, inert, exhausted. Plus, the potion only worked during full moon, and could not accommodate random transformations.

"I can force you to transform," Theo said curtly, getting up and watching Rose returning to them. "I can help you retain your consciousness. Not for long. And you will feel pain.

"I am not afraid of the pain," Ron snorted and winked at his daughter: Rose was clearly against the idea. "But what if we are making a mole out of an anthill?"

"Have you ever been wrong about your premonitions in the last four years?" Theodick asked calmly, his arm around Rose's shoulders – the girl was frowning, looking from her father to her mate.

"No."

Theo shrugged his shoulders, as though punctuating an effective stop to further discussion.

"With any luck, this will help is figure out Albus' whereabouts before Uncle Harry gets winds of his disappearance," said Rose, with a hopeful glance at Theo.

"I want to look in on Sarah," Ron nodded at the door to Theo's exam room. The healer shrugged again (he clearly was not a man of many words), then glanced at his watch, as though to indicate that they were almost of out time. "I must see her…"

Ron walked into a sun-filled room that was Theodick's study and then on to a small chamber beyond, where the curtains were closed, to keep the sun from disturbing the patient.

Saral lay on her back, her arms stretched along her slender body. Her face was serene, without a trace of the fatigue and torment etched in it in the days leading to their trip. Ron sat on the edge of the bed, took her warm hand, and leaned down to kiss it, as he often had done back at their far-away mountain cottage.

"You will get well, I promise you, darling," he thrust a hand in his red hair that she was so fond of threading through her fingers. "You rescued me, and I shall do the same with you."

He didn't know if Sarah could hear him, but he dearly wanted her to.

"You know, I finally saw her… Rose," Ron said, stroking Sarah's fingers. "Do you remember how I dreamed of it? How I tried to imagine what she would be like? You know, she is not the way I imagined. She is different. No, she appears… Well, she seems to feel better next to the Snape kid. We never let her be soft, be a little vulnerable. And here, in this house, it is as though she was able to breathe fully, to allow herself to not be like… like Hermione."

He flinched at hearing himself say the name. Ron stood up, slowly laying Sarah's hand down, then leaned over to kiss her forehead.

"You can't imagine how right I was, saying that Potters are not likely to live peacefully, that they always must be in the thick of things. And here we are, at the next party for the anxious and uncertain…" Ron murmured with a sad smile. "I shall be back shortly."

Ron walked into the living room and froze. Theo turned around and put his finger to his lips: Rose was asleep in the chair.

"I put her to sleep; she is too tired," Theo said unapologetically, taking his cloak. "Plus, our little plan is not for her eyes."

Ron wanted to ask why, but Theo forestalled him with the answer:

"She has waited too long to see her father again, only to lose him by looking into the eyes of a werewolf."

They silently watched the sleeping girl. Yes, she oughtn't see him transform…

"If you are ready, we should hurry: Al has been gone too long already," Theo headed for the fireplace.

Ron nodded at the healer's back and thought for the umpteenth time that the river of his life was clearly heading toward a waterfall… or was upon it already. And he was not able to stop the current.