Chapter 12: The Truth About Fairness
It was his third morning at home. That meant three breakfasts cooked by his mum, endless piles of bacon, banger, fried eggs on crispy toast and finally, homemade muffins. It meant three nights in his own bed, surrounded by his Chudley cannon posters and the sounds of the ghoul in the attic. It was amazing, and Ron hadn't realized how much he had missed all of it.
But there was still something, something wasn't the same, it was bothering him, constantly at the back of his mind. He could probably use a Remembrall if they weren't useless, and he wasn't sure what it was he was missing. He dug out his entire trunk, whirled through his room making such a mess that his mother thought Fred and George had done something up there. She'd lined all three of them up last night and asked if they'd been smuggling back Nifflers. The lack of answers meant a lack of desert, but the homemade puddings wasn't what Ron was missing.
It had taken three days to realize what it was, he was missing home, because the Burrow didn't completely feel like home anymore. It took him five seconds after that realization to understand why that was, his friends. Of course, he knew he missed them, but it took an owl flying in with letters, letters holding the recognizable scrawl of Harry on the address, and the perfect letters that were a mark of the care Hermione took with everything. The owl wasn't Hedwig, and completely unfamiliar. The parchments in front of him were the opposite, something he'd been missing from his day-to-day, something comfortable and safe.
It was what he'd been looking for since he'd been home, a sign of Harry and Hermione. A signal letting him know they were okay. He wished he could look across the table, and see Hermione engrossed in her book, having to be reminded to take a bite every once in a while. There were the rare cases he'd had to tell her to slow down with her eating, the days when Harry had joked they'd switched bodies because Hermione was shoveling food into her mouth so she could rush off to the library.
At least Hermione was at home with her family, who could remind her to do things like eat, sleep and take a break. Even with all her brains, Hermione hadn't learnt that people were useless to everyone else unless they took care of themselves. At first, Ron didn't understand it. It was natural to him that people needed to look after their own needs. He'd learnt that from a very early age, when Bill and Charlie were no longer around to help care for him, and his mum's attention was focused on Ginny. Ron had learnt to entertain himself, to keep himself from being the twin's target, and to remind his mother he needed her help when he couldn't do something for himself.
Being a Weasley meant looking after each other too. His siblings had always been there for him, even when his parents couldn't. He tried to do the same thing, to teach Ginny the important lessons in life as a kid. That all seemed silly now, but the most impactful moments and lessons had stayed on. Ron had been taught to take care of himself, but neither of his friends had been taught the same lessons. Hermione had always had someone to look after her, to remind her that she needed to look outside her books every once in a while.
Harry had the opposite problem. Even as the most famous person in the wizarding world, his best friend didn't think he mattered. He had always been taught that everything else was more than he was, like the stone, the house cup, quidditch, and his friends. Ron had to agree that Harry had some points when it came to those particular things, but otherwise, his friend had no good excuse for not taking care of himself. He just hoped that he'd been successful enough at drilling that into Harry's head.
That's why he was so excited to see these letters, to get some physical evidence that his friends were okay without him. Ron failed to notice the owl had a third letter in his excitement, instead ripping into the letters.
To his own surprise, it was Hermione's letter he read first.
Dear Ron,
I hope it's alright, but I sent my own letter along with Harry's. It's very strange to be home after our year at Hogwarts, isn't it? I miss everything about Hogwarts, but especially you and Harry. Between schoolwork and time with my parents, I can't stop thinking about what you both might be doing. I was very relieved to hear from Harry. I suppose you've already read his letter. I'm glad he's away from his awful relatives. I was about to write to ask if he would like to stay when the owl arrived. I think it's best he stays at Hogwarts for now, don't you? If anyone deserves to stay at the castle over the summer, it's Harry.
Ron stopped, and read it again, then again.He quickly put Hermione's letter down, to finish later, so he could read Harry's letter and find out what was happening with his best mate. Hermione might've misunderstood and Ron couldn't risk not knowing what Harry said himself. Until he was sure Harry was alright, he wouldn't be able to relax.
His eyes scanned Harry's letter hungrily.
Dear Ron,
There has been a lot happening the past few days since I saw you at King's Cross. I never went back to the Dursley's. Professor McGonagall used some potion to look like Aunt Petunia and took me back to Hogwarts. Apparently, my magic is doing something weird with my dreams and memories, so Dumbledore wants me close. No one was supposed to know about it, but Professor Dumbledore said it's alright to tell you and Hermione everything.
Ron reread that paragraph over and over. Harry was at Hogwarts, he'd never returned to those muggles. He thought back to his conversation with Dumbledore in the Hospital wing, perhaps he'd been able to make the Headmaster realize a few things. The old man couldn't possibly think that he'd be able to keep Ron and Hermione from finding out how Harry was doing.
Knowing that Harry was safe made Ron feel as if he had been under petrificus totalus all this time, only to be freed of it by a quick finite incantantem. He reread it again, able to totally grasp it this time. Ron smiled a little as he started to read the next paragraph, knowing at least his friends missed him just as much.
I think I miss you both more because I'm still at Hogwarts. At least, I wouldn't be expecting to see you at the Dursley's but here, it's almost scary. It's been two days, but the dorm still seems unfamiliar and strange without everyone else around. It's all too big and empty. I keep expecting the twins to pop out at me, or Oliver to come lecture me about practice, or you to come and pull me to the dormitory. I'm all alone though, the only people still at school are at the Professors.
Professor Dumbledore keeps inviting me to come eat with them, but I haven't left the tower yet. He keeps trying to apologize and make up for leaving me at the Dursley's after my parents died. It'd be too strange, especially since now all the professors know about the cupboard.
Ron frowned thinking of the mention of the taboo cupboard. He had learnt of it a few weeks after the Halloween fiasco. After two and a half months of school, he could say that Harry was the best friend he ever had, another brother. Ron thought he knew his friend pretty well, but he'd only started to really think about how troubling some of the things he noticed really were. Like how terrified Harry was of all the adults besides Hagrid, the way he went silent and stiff when attention turned to him, or how surprised Harry was when anyone asked his opinion.
One of these quirks he hadn't given much thought to was the way Harry slept. Each night, he closed the bed curtains tightly around the bed. It wasn't strange to want privacy, but when Harry had a nightmare, Ron had opened the curtain to wake him up. The way Harry had reacted showed him how wrong the situation was.
"Close it behind you?" he'd asked. "I can't sleep in the open. I need it to be dark, and closed in, like my cupboard."
Ron had laid awake the entire night after that, trying to clarify what Harry had meant when he'd given the explanation for his sleeping habits. He'd known Harry's home life wasn't happy from the beginning, but he only realized the extent now. Ron hadn't known what to do, or what to say.
The next morning Harry thanked him for waking him up, and there was an acknowledgement of what had passed in the dark between the curtains. Ron and Harry hadn't spoken of it since, but that didn't mean Ron didn't think about it. The topic had resurfaced right before Christmas, when Hermione came to wake them and noticed how Harry piled pillows to make the bed smaller. It had been a near catastrophe, with Ron having to hold Hermione back from pulling too much attention to it. Harry didn't have enough privacy as it was.
Instead, he'd been able to convince her to help him handle it quietly. The discussions were rare, snuck when Harry fell asleep after prowling around with the cloak and while he was at quidditch practice. Together, they'd decided Hermione should ask if Harry could stay with her at the beginning of the summer. The Dursley's hated magic, and they'd be more likely to say yes to her muggle parents. Then both of his friends would come to the Burrow for the rest of their holiday.
Maybe sooner, Ron contemplated when reading the next part of Harry's letter. If Dumbledore couldn't be trusted to make Harry feel safe and happy, then Ron would go take him straight back to the Burrow. Maybe he could get Fred and George to help him fly the car Dad was tinkering with in the shed.
He was fighting with Professor McGonagall too, because he knew that the Dursleys hated magic, but sent me there anyway. McGonagall yelled at him, if I wasn't scared of being sent back to Privet Drive it might've been funny. They were going to send me back after a few weeks, once Dumbledore figured out my dreams. McGonagall swears that isn't going to happen though.
She comes to visit a lot, and Professor Dumbledore. She keeps trying to teach me Wizard's Chess, but I don't think it'll work since you haven't been able to do it. I spend most my time alone in the tower. I've been able to explore a little. No one takes things down from the notice board, and I found notes from my mum and dad up there.
The rest of Harry's letter rambled on about the other things he'd seen about the tower, before turning its focus to ask how Ron was doing. It wasn't hard to read between the lines. He couldn't imagine how Harry must feel. Being tower meant he had less attention focused on him, but it resulted in Harry feeling shut in, locked up as if he was in the cupboard again. And it was comforting to know that Harry missed Ron as much as the redhead missed Harry.
Now that he knew for sure Harry was safe, Ron picked Hermione's letter back up to read the rest of it. He was looking for where he had stopped when he heard his parents arguing. It wasn't unusual for his mum to be clucking and panicking like a hen chased away from it's eggs. The scary part was his father, Dad's usual smile, curious twinkle and laugh were gone, making his entire stance stiffer than Ron had ever seen him look.
Mum was sobbing into Dad's chest now. Ginny turned to Ron with the same alarmed look he must've been wearing. "What's happening?"
As she spoke, Dad turned to look at Ron. "Ron, do you think you can finish that letter later? I need to talk to you about something."
"Arthur, what are you—"
"Let's go to the shed, I could use your help. Ginny, why don't you go find the twins? Tell Percy he needs to take a break from whatever he's doing up there and to come help your mother."
Mum sniffed shaking her head as she pulled away from Dad. "No, I should go with you and Ronnie."
"Molly, let me handle this. Please. You're scaring the children," Dad's voice lowered at the last part, but Ron heard it anyway. His mom turned white, as the blood left her face, around the same shade as Dad's knuckles, pale against her red cloak he'd been gripping the entire time in an attempt to keep her anchored. He let go a second later, and turned back to Ron.
"Don't worry. Everything's fine," Ron promised Ginny as he stood up. "I think I know what this is about."
"What? Ron, you have to tell me!" Ginny called after him as he walked up to Dad's side.
Dad looked down at him when he came up, and together they walked out the back to the shed. "You got a letter from your friends. Harry and Hermione?"
"Yeah. Was yours from Hogwarts?"
"Dumbledore," agreed Dad. "Professor McGonagall seems to have written parts of it too."
Ron stopped and looked up at Dad. "They told you about Harry. That's why Mum's crying. Because of what happened with Harry."
Dad sighed and straightened up a little. He nodded again and continued forward, leading Ron toward the shed. Instead of going inside the crooked building, he cleared off one of the work benches outside and sat down. He patted the seat beside him and looked back at Ron. "Sit."
Ron didn't wait to sit before asking his Dad the question. "What did the letter say?"
"I think you already know most of it, which makes my job easier in some ways." There was another shake of the head as Dad started again. "Ron, why didn't you tell anyone if you knew something about Harry?"
"He didn't want me to," Ron shrugged. "Harry trusts me, and Harry barely trusts anyone. Especially not grown-ups. If I said something he wouldn't let me help him at all. Hermione and I had a plan."
"Oh?" Dad listened quietly as Ron explained his and Hermione's discussions and entire plans. At the end he smiled, though his eyes were still wet. "I'm proud of you, Ron. You've been a good friend, the best I've ever seen. Harry and Hermione are very lucky to have you. But there are somethings you three can't handle alone. You're just children."
Ron scowled. He picked up a piece of rope, and started to tie it, again and again. The rope was a knotted mess within seconds. Ron focused on finding ways to slip his fingers in between the knots, to undo it. Dad covered his hands and the rope with his own palm. "Ron, I won't pretend to know everything that happened while you were at Hogwarts, but your first year wasn't normal. I understand if it's hard for you to trust me, to trust us, with everything that happened. That's one of the reasons I asked your mother to stay inside. Sometimes, her worrying can make things worse. I think now you're old enough to understand that even we're not perfect parents or people. Still, I hope we've been good enough so that you feel safe enough to tell me if something is wrong or if you need help."
"I'm okay. I was just worried about Harry, but he's at Hogwarts. He's okay now." Ron pressed his lips together. He looked across the backyard, at the scurrying gnomes, and up at the Burrow. He could hear laughter from Ginny inside, loud voices and shouting from Percy. The twins were probably doing something that annoyed him. Ron had always thought he was unlucky. His family was poor, he was the sixth boy and the youngest. He still wasn't sure he was anything special, but he'd been safe and loved.
Ron turned back to look at Dad. "How could they do that to him, Dad? He was just a baby when he went to live there. Dumbledore knew something was wrong. Harry said some muggles definitely knew about how the Dursleys treated him. Why didn't anyone do anything to stop it?"
Dad put his hand on Ron's and squeezed. "That's not an easy question you've asked me, Ron. It's those questions I asked myself when we got that letter a few minutes ago, and everyday during the war. It's something I hoped my children would never have to learn, but the world hasn't changed that much since You-Know-Who disappeared.
"People in power will do anything to stay in power. They'll threaten friends and families. Everyone wants to feel strong, to think they're unstoppable. Other people don't act because they're scared of what will happen to them if they do. It's easy, even safer, to ignore the bad things happening around you and pretend it doesn't affect you.
"I can't say for sure why the Dursley's did what they did. The most likely answer is that they were scared. Harry's a wizard, his parents were killed by the most powerful Dark Lord this century, and the same night he was sent to live with muggles. How do you think they felt?"
Ron spluttered. "But he's their family. Even if You-Know-Who was still able to come after him, they should have taken care of him!"
"They should have," agreed Dad putting his hand on Ron's shoulder. "But like I said the Dursleys were scared. I don't know if it was of Harry, magic, or You-Know-Who, but they felt trapped. Perhaps that's the only way they felt safe. Making sure Harry feared them."
"That's just stupid. Harry wouldn't hurt anyone! Not if he had a choice!"
"And I believe you. Harry should have been shown love instead, but he wasn't. The Dursleys took all their bad feelings, their fear, and doubts about themselves and blamed it on the easiest target, Harry."
"It's not fair," Ron said snottily. He reached up a hand to wipe the snot and tears from under his nose. He hadn't realized until that moment he'd been crying. Dad pushed a handkerchief into his hand, and waited for Ron to blow his nose. "It's not!"
"No. No, it isn't." Dad pulled Ron into a hug, letting him cry against his shoulder.