On Punching Gods and Absentee Dads
Enigmaris
Chapter 22: Ron the Remarkable
Summary:
Back in Britain things are heating up and Ron is left alone to face the entire Order.
Notes:
Eyyy! Another update! This is the last one before school starts up again. Next week, your girl has classes again. Hopefully I should be able to keep the update schedule the same as what I had in the summer but who knows? I might need to change things up just make sure I don't go crazy. I'll let you all know.
Chapter Text
Ron sighed as he chased down yet another garden gnome. Degnoming the garden was only fun when there was someone else around to do it with him. But of course, Fred and George had run away to their new shop in Diagon Alley, Percy had caused that huge giant rift in the family and was currently living on his own as well. And Ginny? Ginny never had to degnome the garden. Forget Bill and Charlie, even if they were in town, which they weren't, then they'd have gotten out of doing the work too.
Aside from the phone calls he got from Harry and the owls he got from Hermione, Ron was mostly left alone. His parents were both busy with Order work and Ginny was spending a lot of her summer time with Luna. It had just ended up that Ron was mostly forgotten in all the commotion. It didn't bother Ron as much as it perhaps should have. He was used to being the last thing thought of at home.
It wasn't that his parents didn't love him. Ron, after meeting Harry's uncle and aunt, knew very well that his parents loved him. His mum always made him a sweater for Christmas and made sure he had enough to eat. She'd give him a hug anytime he wanted (and often enough when he didn't). His dad was always willing to help him with his homework or play chess with him. His dad gave excellent advice and did his best to make sure Ron knew that he was proud of him.
So yes. Ron's parents loved him. They understood him as best they could too. His mother knew what would annoy him and what wouldn't. She'd finally stopped making him maroon jumpers when she'd gotten the money to buy a different yarn. They knew his favorite foods and activities. They asked about his grades and his friends, although that was partially because he knew that his parents loved Harry and Hermione, but also because they loved him and cared about what he cared about.
But his parents also tended to forget about him. Ron wasn't the oldest boy, Bill, who'd done everything first and done it well. He wasn't the second oldest, who'd spent his time at Hogwarts outdoing everything Bill had done and then gone on to take a job that stressed his mum out so much that she still fretted thinking about it at times. Ron certainly wasn't Percy, who even before this whole family drama, had been the smartest and most studious. Percy managed to bring home the best grades every year and every year it allowed his parents to gush about him. Ron wasn't much like Fred and George either, the twins who'd taken one look at mischief and had never looked back.
Ron wasn't even like Ginny, the girl and the youngest.
Ron was just Ron.
Not particularly gifted in school. Not on the quidditch team. He didn't go out of his way to make trouble (although he did manage to get into quite a bit of it courtesy of Harry). Ron wasn't loud at home or all that noticeable. It was impossible to be. He'd been competing for his parents' attention for his whole life and he'd always come in dead last. It didn't mean his parents loved him any less, it just meant that Ron got less of them. Their love was constant but sporadically expressed.
The only thing that allowed Ron to stick out was his friendship with Harry and Hermione. Harry was world famous and drew attention to him wherever he went like he was cursed with an attention charm. Hermione was probably the smartest person in the whole world. (And the prettiest his mind reminded him). Even in his own friend group Ron was the least noticed, the most forgotten.
It bothered him. It had bothered him as an 11 year old when he'd looked into the Mirror of Erised, it bothered him when he was 13 and the attempt on his life by Sirius Black had been brushed over in favor of Harry, it had bothered him when Harry had his name come out of the goblet of fire. It bothered him now as he worked in the garden alone. Ron knew he shouldn't be bothered. In comparison to so many people his life was quite ideal. He had a loving family and while things had been tight money wise for most of his life he had never gone without things he needed.
Ron should be grateful.
And he was! And yet…
Ron picked up a gnome and flung it as hard as he could out of the garden. He heard the whooshing of the floo system and then the footsteps of his parents.
"I can't believe this!" His mother cried, her voice breaking and frantic.
"I'm sure it's going to be just fine." His dad tried to comfort. "They'll find him.
"RON!" His mother called. "RONALD WEASLEY GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW!"
"Coming!" Ron answered, his heart sinking as he correctly guessed what he was being called in for. It certainly wasn't his mother calling him in to thank him for taking care of the garden without being asked. He jumped up over the garden fence and then hopped up the steps. His parents were standing in the living room, a look of fear and stress in their eyes. He froze at the sight of Albus Dumbledore standing next to his parents.
Ron had to stop himself form flinging himself at the old man. A tide of rage washed through him and he wanted to punch Dumbledore. But he couldn't, not in front of his mum.
"What's wrong?" He asked.
"Oh it's terrible!" His mother said. "Harry's gone missing!"
"What?" Ron asked doing his best to look shocked and horrified. To be honest he was a little shocked, he hadn't thought anyone would bother to check up on his friend at all. Not like they'd done it in the past, checking up on Harry had always been Ron's job.
"The headmaster noticed a problem with the Blood Wards." His dad explained. "They're weakened to the point of being basically nothing. He went to Harry's home to investigate and discovered that Harry hadn't come home from the train station."
"Mr. Weasley." Dumbledore said his blue eyes twinkling in the way that Ron had previously thought was cool and not at all devious. "Please tell me if you've heard from Harry."
Ron had been careful not to take calls from Harry when his parents weren't around. He inwardly flailed a little before speaking.
"I…It's only been a few weeks, I figured he hadn't owled back because of the whole Sirius thing." Ron scrambled around trying to justify not having spoken to his best friend in that long. "Besides. I wasn't sure if I was allowed to talk to him much, after what you told me last summer and all…"
His parents' faces broke and Ron wanted to apologize, to tell them the truth. Even Dumbledore looked disappointed.
"He's not dead." He argued, sounding desperate. "If he was dead wouldn't the wards be totally broken?"
"You're right." His dad said trying to give him a comforting look. "But we don't know where he is."
"Nobody?" Ron asked. "Wouldn't Snape know if Harry got kidnapped?"
"Professor Snape" His mum corrected. "is certain that You-Know-Who hasn't taken Harry. But that doesn't mean that someone else hasn't! Oh he could be anywhere! Being tortured or starved."
Ron cringed at his mother's agony which his parents read as him cringing at the idea of Harry being in pain. Ron knew Harry was fine, better than fine. But he couldn't say that. He couldn't. Not when Dumbledore was here. Not when it was the headmaster's fault that his best friend had ever been anything less than fine.
"Molly. Would you and Arthur mind giving me some privacy? Perhaps I can help young Mr. Weasley here remember any important details about the last time he spoke with Harry."
"Of course!" His mother said. "We'll…we'll just get some tea together, you two come into the kitchen whenever you're ready."
And then his mother bustled off with his father in tow, neither of them even thinking for once that Ron would rather claw his own eyes out than be left alone in a room with Albus Dumbledore. Ron shifted a little awkwardly and coughed into his hand. The headmaster just looked at him.
"Let's take a seat." The headmaster suggested, motioning to the well loved couches Ron had spent his childhood crawling over. In that moment those golden memories of childhood seemed far away. When had he stopped seeing himself as a child? Ron sat down in one couch across from Dumbledore and did his best to suppress his anger, his hate, for the man in front of him.
"Would you indulge me in a game of chess? I so rarely get the chance to play." Dumbledore said motioning to the hand-me-down set his dad had gifted him on his eleventh birthday, the set he'd taught Harry and Hermione how to play on.
"Okay." Ron said. Dumbledore smiled and waved a hand, wandlessly conjuring a table between the two of them. Ron grabbed the box and carefully set up the game, focusing on the grumbling of his pieces instead of Dumbledore's piercing stare. "You're white."
He offered the opening salvo to the man before him. Ron didn't need the advantage. Dumbledore smiled and ordered the movement of a pawn. At first they didn't talk, just looked at the board and made their moves. Ron had never played against Dumbledore. The closest he had ever come to playing against someone like him was when he was eleven. Granted he had technically been playing against McGonagall at the time but he had a feeling Dumbledore had had a hand in that giant chess room.
Ron had won then and as frightened and angry as he was at the man in front him, he didn't doubt he couldn't win now.
"I know that you might be feeling frightened."
"What?"
"The attack on the ministry was frightening, you were hurt quite badly." The headmaster said motioning a little to the scars on Ron's arms he'd gotten from those freaky brain tentacle things in the Department of Mysteries.
"I guess." Ron shrugged choosing not to think about that.
"And poor Sirius was killed, when you and the others went through so much effort to save him. You're young and I can't imagine how difficult dealing with all of this must be."
Ron wanted to ask Dumbledore where his compassionate voice had been when he'd told Harry the prophecy. Ron didn't want his compassion, he didn't need it. And now neither did Harry.
"I'm alright." Ron said instead. "'M worried about Harry."
"Of course you are." He said before ordering a knight to move. Ron looked down at the board his eyebrows furrowed before he guessed at the man's potential strategy. He made his own move, sending a bishop forward just a bit. "Which is why I'm sure you'd tell me if you knew anything."
"I don't." Ron lied not looking the man in the eye, suddenly very aware that the headmaster knew legilimency.
"What did you and Harry last talk about?"
"His dad." Ron said truthfully. "and his mum too I guess."
Something flashed in the headmaster's visage a little and Ron swallowed.
"I mean." Ron continued. "He was just sad that he didn't know them and it was about Sirius too, he just keeps losing people."
Dumbledore's face cleared up immediately and Ron inwardly sighed in relief. A few more moves passed in a tense silence before Dumbledore tried again.
"So his parents. Was there anything else? Anything at all, it doesn't matter how silly you think it is."
"Well we talked about the prophecy a bit." Ron said shifting in his seat. "But you already know about that."
"He told you?"
"Me and Hermione, he was scared." Ron hoped Harry would forgive him for revealing that little tidbit to Dumbledore. "Me and 'Mione promised to be with him till the very end, no matter what."
"That's very good of you, Ron." Dumbledore said. "Truly, you are a credit to your family."
Ron flushed a little, feeling awkward at the compliment that he knew he shouldn't want because of the source.
"I'm being honest, dear boy." Dumbledore pushed. "I've noticed how loyal you are to your friends, I'm sure your parents are proud of you. I know I am."
"Thanks headmaster." Ron said right before having another one of his pieces move. The game was progressing as Ron expected. Now that he knew what sort of man Dumbledore was, it was a lot easier to see the sorts of plans he'd make on a chess board. Ron knew what sort of things Dumbledore would do to a pawn now.
"I know this doesn't have much to do with the topic at hand but I can't help myself." He said happily. "You know I had a conversation with Minerva recently about how well you did as a prefect last year."
"What?"
"She was very impressed with you." He confided. "And so am I. You're a loyal, level headed young man. We both think you'd make a good Head Boy, of course that's years away now but I've been doing this job for quite a long time and I'm good at predicting these sorts of things."
Looking back at last summer Ron could remember how happy the prefect badge had made him. How it had made him glow and his chest puff out with pride. He'd gotten new robes, new everything from his parents to celebrate. For awhile things had been about him and how well he was doing. It had been brilliant. His mind flashed to the vision he'd seen in the Mirror of Erised.
I'm the head boy! And the quidditch captain!
"Do you mean it?" Ron asked trying to inject that same excitement he'd felt five years ago at the idea. Dumbledore beamed and Ron knew he'd managed it.
"I can't think of any young man in your year who could do it better. Not even Harry, the poor boy isn't much of a leader, not like you."
"Harry's a great leader." Ron said, only slightly snappish.
"Part of being a good leader is being willing to listen to others, to follow orders." Dumbledore said. "I'm not being cruel, no one loves Harry more than I, but I think you're a far better fit for a position like Head Boy."
"Thanks." Ron said trying not to feel awkward or anything. Wasn't this conversation the sort of thing he'd always wanted? To be noticed? To stand out from anyone else in his life?
"Of course." Dumbledore said. "Now don't go telling anyone, this is just between you and I for now. We're not supposed to be making decisions about Head Boy and Girl until much later."
"Right. I won't tell, not even Harry."
"Good boy."
Dumbledore made another move. The game was progressing quite quickly. Normally Ron would take his time, drag a game out because it was fun, but it had only been 15 minutes of playing and Ron just wanted to put the man in front of him into check. Ron could hear his father and mother talking, comforting each other over their worry for Harry. He glanced over at the hallway that led to the kitchen and Dumbledore followed his eyes.
"I know you must be feeling quite forgotten these past few weeks."
"Huh?"
"Your parents have been ever so busy with the Order and your brothers have all left The Burrow. And Harry's been ignoring you too." Dumbledore told him. "I imagine it must be very lonely."
"It's fine." Ron said. "It's all important stuff you know? I can handle myself."
"Of course, you can. I just want you to know that I notice you, I know how talented you are, how loyal." Dumbledore told him. "You'll be a great asset to the Order when you're of age. You practically already are! I trust you implicitly dear boy."
A year ago, hell even a month ago, Ron would have jumped at the chance to be spoken to like this. Dumbledore was looking at him like he mattered, like he was important and useful, just because of who he was, not because of his brothers or because of Harry. He'd be squirming in his seat to do anything the headmaster asked him to do. It was that same devotion that had kept Ron from writing to Harry last summer. It was the devotion that had died the moment Harry had called him and told him the truth.
Now all Dumbledore's words did was leave a rotten taste in his mouth.
Ron looked down and ordered another move. The chess board was already littered with the stone bodies of crushed pieces, both his and the headmaster'ss. From an outside perspective it was clear that Ron had lost more pieces, in fact it looked as if Dumbledore would be putting him into check within three moves. Ron knew better.
"I'm sorry headmaster." Ron said. "I wish I could help you find Harry but I don't know. He didn't say he wasn't going home. On the train we just talked about how scary it all was and how much he missed Sirius and his parents."
Dumbledore barely hid his frown as he ordered another move, he moved his queen exactly where Ron suspected he would. Ron held back a grin.
"Are you certain dear boy? There's nothing at all you can tell me?"
Ron ordered his knight forward. The little horse riding soldier galloped forward across the board and stopped right in front of the king. The king looked around at the board, removed his sword and knelt down in surrender.
"No sir." Ron said firmly before holding out his hand. "Good game though."
Dumbledore took his hand and shook it, a brittle smile on his face.
"Yes. Good game." He agreed, letting go of Ron's hand and standing up. "I must be going, I need to start the search for young Harry as quickly as possible. Do apologize to your parents for my leaving without having some tea."
"Course." Ron said. Dumbledore disappeared from Ron's living room with a crack. Almost immediately Ron fell back into the couch, his face pale and his limbs shaking. "Blimey. That was bad."
That evening Ron's parents left right after dinner for another Order meeting. Ron was only grateful his mum had charmed the dishes to do themselves. He considered calling his friend to tell him what had happened now that he was alone but he decided against it. He had no idea if he was being watched or spied on now. He had to be very, very careful on how he contacted his friends.
The next two days were stressful around The Burrow. His parents came back from that meeting suspicious and strained. They were worried sick about Harry and Ron had no doubt that Dumbledore had talked to his parents personally about him. Suddenly he seemed to have his parents' full attention. No longer was his mum spending her free evenings bemoaning Percy's betrayal or the twins' silliness. His dad didn't spend his time tinkering in the garage.
Both of them were watching him now, focused as hard as they could, to see if Ron would give up the game. His mum asked frequently if he'd heard from Harry and his dad told him that no matter what they'd always forgive him.
"You're our son and I know you always do what you think is right. You can trust us, son."
But could he? Could he truly? Were his parents more loyal to Dumbledore or to Harry? His parents never let Harry stay with them at the Burrow as much as they should have because of Dumbledore. His parents knew that the Dursleys were mean to Harry, that they didn't feed him enough, that they locked him up and they supported Dumbledore leaving Harry there anyway. His mum had known about the prophecy, had known it was about Harry, even if she didn't know the wording, and decided to follow Dumbledore's edict on secrecy instead of trusting Harry.
Ron had never wondered if he could trust his parents. The doubt, the fear, ate at him. At night he'd lay in his bed and wonder if he was really choosing his family, the people who had raised him, clothed him, and loved him from birth, for Harry. The tattoo he'd kept hidden on his wrist itched and reminded him that Harry was just as much his family as any other Weasley. But if they were both family how could he possibly choose one over the other?
His parents weren't bad people! They were doing what they thought was right! They'd joined the Order, risked their lives and everything else to stop You-Know-Who! His parents had defied hundreds of years of Pureblood tradition to stand for muggle and squib rights. They'd been labeled blood traitors and ostracized for it. Ron knew his parents were good people and he loved them.
But Harry? Harry was his best mate. A brother unlike the five he actually had. Even with the fights and disagreements they'd had over the years, there was no one Ron trusted more. And in the end that meant that Ron couldn't ever betray Harry. Not when he knew Harry was happy with his dad, that he was finally getting to eat as much as he needed every day. Not when Harry was finally getting the hugs and support that Ron had taken for granted his entire life.
Being firm in his choice of loyalty didn't mean he still didn't feel guilt. As the days passed his family grew more worried and frantic. The entire Order was being run amok trying to find a single hint as to where Harry Potter was. There were plenty Order members who came by to ask Ron if he had any ideas, any clues. Ron denied them all.
Well he denied them all up until Fred and George knocked on his bedroom door.
Ron had been writing out a letter to Hermione, one he knew he wouldn't send, when the twins rushed up the stairs. Ron frantically shoved the letter under his pillow and managed to get it hidden right as George burst in, Fred not a moment behind.
"Well if it isn't Ickle Ronnikins!"
"Our Ittle Baby Brother seems to be growing up!"
"What do you two want?"
"We've heard on the grape vine."
"Or perhaps it's a birdy we heard it from."
"That you dear brother."
"Have been causing some trouble."
Ron scowled at the two brothers and folded his arms over chest.
"Never thought I'd see the day."
"Truly. Almost started to think you were a lost cause."
"What with that prefect thing."
"And all the studying you do."
"But no! You proved us wrong!"
"You got that right! Our Little Ron is finally coming into his own."
"What are you two on about?" Ron demanded. "Because if you're here to be annoying then go away."
"Oh, don't be like that." Fred said sitting down on the foot of Ron's bed.
"Really, we're happy for you." George added sitting down on Ron's chair.
"Mum came by the shop! Actually, stepped foot inside the doors."
"Thought it'd take her at least a decade to even look at the place, if I'm honest."
"She came in to talk to us of all things!"
"Not to nag us, or beg us to change our minds about our NEWTS."
"Nope! She wanted to talk about you."
"Apparently she thinks you're lying, up to no good."
"Keeping secrets even!"
"Dangerous things secrets."
"Will you two just get to the point?" Ron interrupted. He didn't want to deal with their nonsense right then. He was tired and hungry and feeling more alone than he'd ever felt in his life. His tone made the twins pause. Carefully they looked at him and then at each other.
"You okay Ron?"
"My best friend is…is missing. What do you think?"
"Don't try and lie to us." George said. "Remember the last time you tried that? When you tried to take dad's car on your own to go save Harry?"
"We saw through it."
"I'm not lying."
"Ron." Ron closed his eyes against that tone. He was leaning up against the wall, his legs splayed out on the bed. Above them the ghoul rattled, perhaps in sympathy.
"I can't tell you."
"Harry could be in trouble, we'll go save him with you. Just like we did last time." Fred promised. "Just tell us."
"No." Ron said.
"Oh come on. Don't make us bring out the spiders."
"Go ahead! I don't care. I'm not telling."
That made the twins seriously pause to consider things. Never before had the threat of conjuring spiders not made Ron cave and tell them whatever it was that was bothering him. It was a foolproof method of getting Ron to open up. But not this time. No. Ron wouldn't betray Harry for anything. The twins were starting to look concerned and Ron swallowed.
"We rescued him." Ron said. "And we found him locked up and hungry and dirty and…it was awful!"
"Yeah, yeah it was."
"And they just sent him back again! And again! Even though we told them it was bad."
"I know. We hate it too." George said.
"I'm not letting him go back." Ron said stubbornly. "Never. If I tell then Dumbledore will find out and…It's just not happening."
"So you do know where he is?"
Ron hardened his jaw and looked away. He didn't want to cry. To admit that keeping this from his parents, making his family worry themselves sick, had been eating him alive. Fred carefully reached out and placed a hand on Ron's knee. Ron sniffed and ran his arm over his eyes, rubbing them clear.
"Just go away."
"He's our friend too you know." George said. "We don't want him to go back to the Dursleys either, not if he's found someplace better."
"Yeah." Fred agreed seriously. "I know we joke a lot Ron but we're not messing with you. We won't tell a soul, not even mum and dad if that's what it takes to keep Harry safe."
"You'd choose Harry over mum and dad?" Ron asked his voice shaking.
"Course." George said easily.
"The way we see it?"
"Harry needs us way more than mum does."
Ron's will wavered, he looked at his brothers, their brown eyes sincere in a way they rarely were. He swallowed the knot that had formed in his throat and spoke.
"He's in New York City."
"That's pretty far away." Fred said.
"Why'd he go there?"
Before Ron could answer the question he heard a rock being flung against his window. Ron yelped and jumped up, his brothers not far behind. His brothers gasped in shock at the sight of Loki, god of mischief, standing in their backyard with a grin on his face, Harry right next to him.
"Uhm." Ron said. "That's why."