Fate

by TheTrueSpartan

When Ron discovers that he can see the future, his entire fate is thrown off of its course. A story about adventure, friendship, growing up, and pushing forward through hardships. This story will get darker as it progresses, just like the original Harry Potter novels. It will cover all Seven Years of Hogwarts, but mostly from Ron's perspective. No Mary Sues, no Character bashing.

72. Chapter 72 - Unraveled

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Chapter 72 is done quite early! I sort of just got on a roll with this one, and once it was done, I didn't see a point of holding out on you guys!

Please Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, and I do not intend to make any money off of this. Harry Potter is the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling , and I take no credit of it whatsoever.

I was also inspired by Demon Eyes Laharl's: THE RED KNIGHT! and also from Random-Fruitcake04's: CHOICES! I hope you check them out as well because they are genuinely very good stories.

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Fate

Chapter 72 – Unraveled

Ronald Weasley's POV

Monday 7th September, 1993 (Dumbledore's Office – After Dinner)

"Did you really have to tell him, Headmaster?" Ron asked, he was genuinely worried about Hagrid knowing something so important about him. "What if he tells Harry, Hermione, and Neville?"

"I had to tell him, Ronald," Dumbledore replied, giving Ron an understanding look. "Hagrid is a Professor now, and you are taking his class. He has sworn an oath to this school, and I truly believe that he will not break his word. He has even volunteered to go through some training with Madam Pomfrey on how to handle any situations that may arise." I see. That's pretty nice of him, actually.

"That's really kind of him," Ron started, and Dumbledore nodded his agreement. "But Harry, Hermione, and Neville are extremely nosey people, Headmaster. You know that better than most-"

"I do indeed," Dumbledore chuckled, but Ron wasn't so amused.

"And they are friends with my sister," Ron went on. "And she is even nosier than they are. If Hagrid ever slips up about my conditions, my siblings will find out. And I'm… I'm not ready for that yet."

"Why is that, Ronald?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling brightly. They won't take it well, and I don't want their lives to be miserable on my behalf.

"I don't want them to go through this with me," Ron replied. "Mum and dad… They haven't taken it well. I could see that every single day during the Holidays. My mum's scared looks every time I did a chore. Or my dad running around the house whenever he hadn't seen me for more than twenty minutes. I don't want my siblings to turn into that."

"Children should stay children," Dumbledore said, and Ron nodded quickly. "Are you not a child then, Ronald?" Huh?

"I'm spilling my feelings here, and you're playing word games with me," Ron sighed, and Dumbledore chuckled heartily.

"Forgive me," Dumbledore smiled at him. "At my age, there are few things more entertaining than pretending to be wise."

"Whatever," Ron shook his head. "So if you told Hagrid, did you also tell Professor Babbling?"

"I did," Dumbledore replied.

"When?" Ron asked.

"Last Friday," Dumbledore replied. "I brought them both up here, and then I told them about your conditions. They will be keeping their eyes on you during their classes."

"Alright," Ron said, steeling himself to ask Dumbledore about Daphne. It's why I'm really here.

"I am sorry, but as the Headmaster of this school, I had very little choice," Dumbledore said, he had noticed that Ron was looking tense.

"I understand," Ron said. "And it's already done, so what's the point of worrying about it?"

"That's very mature of you, Ronald," Dumbledore smiled, he had expected more resistance.

"Madam Pomfrey and I worked through it already," Ron told the old wizard, whose eyes twinkled even more at the sound of that. "She and I also discussed another matter… A matter that I need to discuss with you."

"Does it affect our partnership?" Dumbledore asked. "Should I send for Severus?"

"Um…" Ron mumbled, he already knew what Snape would say. 'Dating is for weak fools', or something like that. "It might affect our partnership, and it might not. It all just depends on me, really… Professor Snape would say no, I already know that."

"Go on, Ronald," Dumbledore said, waiting patiently for the flushing boy.

"I have been thinking about the people in my year," Ron said, and Dumbledore listened intently. "Quite a few of them are… experimenting… with each other. And Madam Pomfrey said that that's only natural. I was hoping that maybe I could also… partake. May I?"

"Are you asking for my permission to date someone?" Dumbledore asked, his amusement evident in his voice. This is rather embarrassing for me, so could you not enjoy it so much?

"I am," Ron sighed, and Dumbledore began laughing. "Wow… Seriously? What's wrong with you? I'm baring my soul here-"

"I am sorry, my boy," Dumbledore chortled, covering his mouth with his right hand. "Your tone had me quite worried at first."

"I was… embarrassed," Ron admitted, he was more irritated than embarrassed now. Crazy old codger. "Can you please stop laughing? You're supposed to help your students, not laugh at their troubles."

"You are right," Dumbledore said, slowly calming down. "Ronald, if you wish to find yourself a significant other, then please do so. I will fully support you in this."

"You will?" Ron asked, and Dumbledore's eyes began twinkling once again.

"Most certainly," Dumbledore replied.

"Why?" Ron asked, some of his paranoia coming through. What does he want in return?

"Because there is nothing more powerful than love," Dumbledore replied, and Ron felt his ears burn.

"I'm just talking about dating here," Ron said quickly, he didn't feel comfortable discussing his feelings so openly. I mean, I do love Daphne. But not in that way… Not yet, at least. Wait… If you fancy someone, doesn't that mean that you love them? Why can't Hogwarts hold a class for this sort of shite?

"This is wonderful news, Ronald," Dumbledore said, ignoring Ron's comment. "Many beautiful romances have blossomed within this very castle. This is truly marvelous."

"Let's just ease up here," Ron chuckled nervously.

"Who has stolen your heart, Ronald?" Dumbledore asked, and Ron gaped at him. "Forgive me, my boy, but I have always been a hopeless romantic." Is he pulling my leg? No… He looks genuinely happy about this. "Is it the Heiress of the Greengrass Family?" FUCK!

"How did you know that?" Ron asked, but Dumbledore was just rubbing his own chin with a smile on his face.

"I have always sensed something between the two of you," Dumbledore said sagely, making Ron's face heat up. "She often stares at you during lunch and dinner. And yes, I have also noticed you staring at her."

"Pervert…" Ron muttered, and Dumbledore chuckled wholeheartedly.

"You most certainly have my permission, Ronald," Dumbledore told him. "Personally, I feel as though I should have no say in the matters involving your heart. But if my blessing will aid you, then so be it."

"Thanks," Ron sighed, this was harder than it should've been. "Now I just need her parents' blessing, and then I'll…" Ron trailed off.

"You will ask her to be your muse?" Dumbledore asked, his face full of mirth.

"I'm leaving," Ron said as he stood up, while Dumbledore smiled widely.

"I will tell Severus the good news," Dumbledore said, and Ron stopped moving. "He should know about this, Ronald. For it might affect our work someday."

"But you said-"

"I know what I said," Dumbledore cut in, his expression turning serious for a moment. "This is indeed wonderful news, and I am very happy for you, but our partnership requires trust and honesty. Severus has the right to know about this, just as you felt that I needed to know."

"What if he says no?" Ron asked.

"It will not matter," Dumbledore winked. "We have him outvoted on this, do we not?"

"I… I suppose we do," Ron said, his lips twitching upwards. "Thank you for your time, Headmaster."

"Goodnight, Ronald."

---

Tuesday 8th September, 1993 (Charms Class – Before Lunch)

"Mr. Weasley, could you stay behind for a moment?" Professor Flitwick asked, and Ron stopped packing his things.

"Of course, Professor," Ron said, shooting a look towards his friends.

"We'll be right outside," Millie told him, and he gave her a nod. Ron's friends then left the classroom alongside the Hufflepuffs, while Ron walked over to Flitwick.

"I'm sorry that this took so long," Flitwick said, he was reaching into his desk. Flitwick then pulled out a thin book, and he handed it to Ron.

"'A Look into Wandless Progenitor Spells'," Ron read the title, and then he immediately broke into a smile. "Professor, is this the book that you mentioned?" I completely forgot about this!

"The very same," Flitwick smiled. "I myself read this very book when I first began dabbling with Wandless Magic. I personally believe that this is a must read for all young wizards and witches. Once again, I am terribly sorry for the wait. I had completely forgotten where I stored it, and my memory isn't what it used to be. I hope it serves you as well as it served me, Mr. Weasley."

"I can keep it?" Ron asked, and Flitwick nodded. "Sir… Thank you for this. Truly! I'll get started on reading this immediately!" Ron had to fight the urge to hug the little Professor, but his face-splitting smile showed just how grateful he was for this gift.

"That's what I like to hear," Flitwick chuckled. "Off you go now, Mr. Weasley. I'm sure that your friends are waiting outside for you."

"Right!" Ron nodded, and then he quickly packed up his things. "Thank you for this, Sir! I really appreciate this!"

"You are welcome, Mr. Weasley," Professor Flitwick chuckled, watching Ron hurry towards the door.

"Bye, Sir!" Ron waved, and Flitwick waved back. Ron then hurried out of the classroom, his new book tucked safely in between his right armpit. I'm reading this at Lunch today. It's pretty thin, so I should be able to read through it in a couple of days.

"So, what was that about?" Blaise asked him, while his other friends waited for an answer.

"You won't believe it!" Ron laughed, and then he showed them his new book. Once I'm done with it, I'll hand it over to them. I reckon they should try their hand at Wandless Magic as well.

"What's a 'Progenitor Spell'?" Pansy asked, eyeing the jaded book with a curious look.

"Progenitor Spells are Spells that were used before the creation of wands," Ron replied. "People were forced to use Wandless Magic before wands, and the Spells that they created worked a bit differently than they do now."

"Why did they act differently?" Tracey asked.

"Wands replaced the body as the conduit" Theo replied for Ron, and Ron nodded with a smile. "Can we go down to the common room please? The Triumvirate are expecting Daphne and me."

"Right," Ron nodded, and they began making their way down. "And Theo's right, the body is very different-"

"What do the Triumvirate want with you two?" Tracey asked Theo, who gave her a tired groan in response. She just cut me off…

"They want a report on the second years," Daphne replied for Theo. "Theo and I have been keeping our eyes on them, and truth be told, they are a miserable lot. I have never seen so much pointless bickering amongst a group of people before."

"And here's the best part," Theo chuckled mirthlessly. "Malfoy, who is supposed to be our partner on this, hasn't contributed whatsoever."

"Is that really surprising?" Millie asked.

"It should be," Blaise jumped in, his expression not as aloof as usual. "Malfoy isn't the sort of person who shirks his responsibilities, especially responsibilities that should make him feel important."

"What do you mean by 'should'?" Tracey asked, she had seen Blaise shooting Malfoy a lot of looks lately.

"Does he look like his usual self?" Blaise asked in return.

"You mean spoiled and arrogant?" Tracey scoffed.

"Just hear him out," Pansy piped in, and everyone but Blaise blinked at her. Hear him out? Why did she say it like that?

"You two are unbelievable," Tracey frowned, looking between the two of them. "You've been discussing him behind our backs?"

"He's being attacked by Flint and his gang," Pansy told them. "Tori figured out that Flint was hounding him during Theo's party, and now, he can't hide from Flint. Have you seen him lately? He starts limping when he thinks that no one is looking, he barely eats a thing, and his eyes are always heavy because he clearly isn't sleeping."

"Why do you even care, Pansy?" Daphne asked. "You're one of us now, aren't you?" We should have stuck with my book. And is Pansy serious? I haven't seen any injuries on him, but then again, I don't pay him any attention anyway.

"I… I am," Pansy replied, shooting a worried look towards Ron. I didn't say anything. "I've… I've just noticed these things… And I thought that you should know…"

"And you?" Theo asked Blaise, giving the dark-skinned boy a confused look. "Why are you looking into Malfoy's life? Wasn't it your idea to ignore Malfoy this year?"

"It was," Tracey replied for Blaise, who simply shrugged. "It's obvious, isn't it? Blaise feels bad for his old friend."

"Mind what you say, Tracey," Blaise warned her, but she outright laughed at his warning.

"Or what?" Tracey asked him. Yeah, this is getting out of hand.

"Enough," Ron said firmly, effectively shutting them all up. "Either discuss things civilly, or don't discuss them at all. Blaise and Pansy, stop looking into Malfoy's life. Tracey, stop making condescending remarks. We all agreed to leave Malfoy alone, and in doing so, keep him away from us. Now, I don't know why you two are looking into him, but it ends right now. Understand?"

"I… I understand…" Pansy muttered, her eyes darting down to her feet.

"And you?" Ron asked Blaise, and Blaise gave him a curt nod in response. "Good… Malfoy has made his own bed, and whether he sleeps in it or not is none of our business." If Flint really is assaulting Malfoy, then I need to tell Snape. Malfoy may be a prick, but Flint is twice his size.

---

Tuesday 8th September, 1993 (Snape's Office – After Classes)

Ron knocked on the Snape' door, and he waited for a response. Why am I even involving myself in this? Why should I care about Malfoy being bullied? He certainly didn't care when he was bullying others during the last two years. I mean, he outright assaulted me in the boys' bathroom. Beat me into a bloody pulp with the help of his goons. Not to mention him targeting Muggle-Borns constantly. He's a piece of shite, and he deserves this.

"Ronald?" came Snape's voice, and Ron broke out of his thoughts. That's when Ron noticed that Snape had opened the door, and was now staring at him. "Ronald? Are you there?"

"Sorry," Ron apologized. "I was… zoned out."

"Come in," Snape said, moving back into the Office. Ron followed Snape inside, and after he closed the door, he took a seat across from the Potions Master. "What can I do for you?"

"Actually, I'm here your sake," Ron replied, and Snape cocked an eyebrow at him. "Malfoy, your Godson, is being assaulted by Flint and his gang."

"Is that so?" Snape asked, and Ron blinked at him. Is that so? That's what he has to say about that?

"Pansy and Blaise have been watching him," Ron went on, slightly unsettled by Snape's cold demeanor. "Pansy says that he limps when no one is looking, and judging by his appearance, I'd say that she's right. He looks… He looks like shite."

"And why are you, of all people, interested in my Godson's well-being?" Snape asked. "Your dislike of one another is well-known, not to mention the bad blood between your Families."

"I don't care about Malfoy's 'well-being'," Ron admitted. "I just thought that you should know. You know, because you're his Godfather and all."

"So you're here to help me?" Snape asked, and Ron just stared at him. What's his deal? Why is he acting like such a cold prick? Doesn't he care about the fact that someone is attacking his Godson?

"I'm here because I respect you enough to tell you about what your Godson is going through," Ron replied. "Don't you care that he's being bullied in such a manner? Flint is twice his size, Sir. That troll-faced thug is around my height, but he is built like a… Well, a Troll… Whereas Malfoy probably doesn't weigh more than seven stones."

"I am well aware of my Godson's ever decreasing weight," Snape said coldly, his face covered by a mask of indifference. "This doesn't involve you, Ronald. Stay out of it." Alright…

"You're right," Ron said, slowly standing back up. "It's none of my business. I just came here to tell you because we're partners. What you do with this information is your business, but something tells me that you won't do anything."

"And if I don't?" Snape asked.

"Then nothing," Ron replied. "I'm just here because I thought that you didn't know about this, but you clearly do. Goodbye, Sir." Ron then turned to leave, all the while wondering why Snape wasn't helping his own Godson. It's not your business, Ron. Don't get any more involved in it.

"He needs to learn that the World is a brutal and unforgiving place," Snape said, and Ron stopped at the door. "That it doesn't care about his entitlements, or his Family name. What's happening to him now is his lesson, one that he must learn if he is to become a better man than his father." Ron turned around to face Snape, who was watching Ron with a cold stare.

"Like I said, Sir," Ron said. "I don't care."

With that, Ron left the Office and headed for the common room. Malfoy's problems are just that. Malfoy's. I have no right, or reason, to get involved in them. You know what I need to do? I need to start reading that book that Professor Flitwick gave me. It had a bunch of simple Progenitor Spells in it, and the fact that my body is slowly getting used to acting as a conduit, I should be able to try a few of them.

"Dragon's Blood," Ron said to the entrance, and it slid aside for him. Ron made his way into the common room, his eyes traveling towards his friends, who were sitting in their usual spots. Ron could see that the tension from earlier on in the day was still there. Tracey was visibly not pleased with both Blaise and Pansy, while Daphne and Millie were both keeping their opinions to themselves. And Theo… Theo, of all people, was trying to be the peacekeeper.

As for Ron, he personally didn't want to do anything to help Malfoy. Why would he? Malfoy had done nothing but target him from the day that he had been sorted. Malfoy had all but spat on him, his Family, and his beliefs from the jump. The platinum haired git had taken every chance to turn the entire House against Ron, and if given the opportunity, he'd happily leave Ron to a lifetime of being an abused outsider. If the tables were turned, Malfoy would rather throw himself off of the Astronomy Tower than to help Ron.

And then there was Lucius Malfoy, a man that Ron truly hated. A man that had served as the Dark Lord's second in command during the Great War. A man who had no doubt killed dozens of innocent Muggles for no reason other than they were different from him. A man who openly preached his hatred for Muggles, Muggle-Borns, and Blood-Traitors. A man who had given an eleven year old girl a Cursed Object in the hopes of hurting her father. A man who wouldn't lose a second of sleep if said eleven year old girl had died in the process of opening the Chamber of Secrets. A man who was currently trying to bring the Dark Lord back, and in doing so, plunging the World into a war.

Ron understood that blaming Malfoy for his father's crimes was not fair, but he couldn't help but do it. Both father and son held the same beliefs, at least at the moment. Both of them were nothing more than hateful pricks who enjoyed putting their boots on people's throats. The only difference between them was that Ron had seen an ember of honor within Draco Malfoy. His vision of Malfoy was the only reason why he had backed off of Malfoy after the boy had nearly beaten him to death. A vision that probably wouldn't even come to pass because Ron had already seen it, and would no doubt end up changing it involuntarily.

"Bloody hell," Ron whispered to himself, rubbing his face with both of his hands. "What if it doesn't come to pass because Malfoy gets murdered by Flint? What if Flint's treatment of him turns him dark? Darker, that is… What am I supposed to do here?" Ron remembered Snape's words at that, and he resolved to do nothing. This was not his business, and involving himself in it was nothing short of stupid.

Ron began making his way towards his dorm, his new book was waiting for him on his bed. After I read through this one, I'll start reading the Tome that I purchased from Victor. Marty is still hiding it for me, and considering that I spent sixty Galleons on it, I should read through it. Ron's thoughts were disturbed by loud laughter coming from near his dorm, and upon closer attention, Ron realized that it was coming from Malfoy's room.

"What the…?" Ron muttered. Isn't he supposed to be miserable? No, Ron. Don't. This has nothing to do with you. Remember Ginny? Remember when you had Hermione spying on her? She was devastated, and she didn't talk to you for months. Just mind your own- Ron suddenly heard a heavy thud, and loud laughter erupted from the room. A creeping sense of dread crawled up his spine, and Ron slowly moved closer to Malfoy's room.

"Look at him," came a chortle, but Ron couldn't place the voice. Maybe a sixth year? Definitely an older student.

"C'mon, Malfoy," Flint laughed. "You can either juggle for us on one leg, or I'll have Vincent belt you again." Vincent? Crabbe? And then it all made sense. Crabbe and Goyle sniggering while Malfoy ate his breakfast quietly, Malfoy working on his Herbology tasks alone while Crabbe and Goyle loomed over him, Malfoy barely speaking in any class because Crabbe and Goyle were sitting near him. They've turned on him. They've completely betrayed him. He's not even safe in his own room. Does Snape know about this?

"Pick him up," Flint ordered someone, and Ron heard someone groan loudly.

"I… I don't know how to juggle," came Malfoy's whimpering voice, and Ron froze. He had only heard Malfoy speak like that once; when Ron had nearly crushed his forearms during his party.

"Vincent," Flint said, and Ron heard loud scuffling. And then, another thud. "Juggle, or I'll start throwing the punches myself." Malfoy would die if Flint seriously hit him. Ron's gloved hand reached for his wand, while his other hand slowly reached for the handle. "Don't make me teach you another lesson, Malfoy." Another lesson? Ron stopped moving, his left hand inches from the door handle. Snape wants to teach Malfoy about what the World is really like. And if I burst in there and stop them, I'll be betraying my partner. This has nothing to do with me.

Ron stepped away from the door, what was happening inside of Malfoy's room was none of his concern. Malfoy had clearly made this mess for himself, and he needed to deal with it by himself. The rest of us have to face the consequences of our actions, and as far as I'm concerned, so does he. Ron turned around and left for his room, mentally blocking any ounce of guilt that was in his system. The moment Ron entered his own room, he closed and locked the door behind him.

"Fuck me…" Ron muttered, lightly banging his head against the closed door.

"A bit forward, don't you think?" came a sweet voice from behind him, and Ron turned around in a flash, his wand aimed at Clara. Clara? What is she doing in here? And why is she sitting on my bed? "My, my," Clara giggled, a seductive smile on her face. "You really are all nerves, aren't you?"

"What are you doing in here?" Ron asked, slowly sheathing his wand.

"Waiting for you," Clara replied, curling her index finger in order to beckon him to approach her. Ron slowly walked over to her, wondering what her game was. "You look worried, Ron. Is everything alright? You're not in any trouble, are you?"

"No," Ron replied, and her smile widened.

"Sit with me," Clara ordered, and Ron went to sit by her side. "No, not like that."

"Pardon?" Ron blinked at her, but she simply moved further up his bed. And then, she patted the spot right in front of her. "You want me to sit in front of you?"

"I want to hold you from behind," Clara smiled, and Ron blinked once again. "Don't be shy, Ron. Sit." Right… Ron sat down at the edge of his bed, and she quickly had her arms wrapped around his chest. Her incredible bust was now pushing into his back, while her head rested on his left shoulder.

"Clara-"

"You smell really nice," Clara whispered, a mischievous smile on her face. "Most boys your age smell like wet dogs, but not you. You smell even better than the boys in my year. Why is that?"

"My clothes are laundered daily," Ron replied.

"An Elf, eh?" Clara giggled, and Ron tensed. Fucking idiot! Marty is meant to be a secret weapon, you dolt! "You are a clever one, aren't you? Tell me, does you Elf work within Hogwarts?"

"No."

"Liar," Clara clicked her tongue, her arms tightening around his chest. "You're so… mysterious, Ron. What kind of thirteen year old thinks about implementing such a ploy? I know that when I was your age, my only priority was finding myself a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. I was never really picky."

"That's… That's nice," Ron muttered, feeling hot around the collar. She said girlfriend. Is she bisexual? Ron couldn't help but picture her with Samantha and Carey, and that image elicited a raised heartbeat.

"Are you picturing something inappropriate, Ron?" Clara giggled. "I can feel your heartbeat, and I can see your blush."

"What did you want to talk about?" Ron asked, eager to change the subject.

"Not yet," Clara tutted. "First, you play my game. And then, we can talk business. Now tell me truthfully… Were you imagining something naughty?"

"I wasn't," Ron lied, and Clara sighed overdramatically.

"Lying is unattractive, Ron," Clara told him. "Wait, no… Lying poorly is unattractive. Now tell me about what you were imagining, and if I like your thought, I might tell you whether it happened or not." Ron tried to shift in his spot, but Clara simply tightened her hold on him. Her tits are literally melding with my back! Oh Merlin… How did I end up in this situation?

"I was thinking about you having a girlfriend," Ron whispered, his face feeling hot.

"Any girl in particular?" Clara purred, her head laying lazily on his left shoulder. Damn her, I really want to know.

"Carey and Samantha," Ron replied, keeping his eyes aimed in front of him.

"You naughty little pervert," Clara laughed, and Ron flushed even more.

"Sorry," Ron apologized, his mind feeling heavy because of her closeness.

"Carey and I have shared kisses," Clara replied, and Ron turned his face towards hers. "A lot of times, actually. It started off with light pecks, but by fifth year, we started kissing with tongue. We still do it, actually. And no, we're not an item. We simply love each other, and there's nothing wrong with friends sharing some intimacy."

"And… And Samantha…" Ron mumbled, his wide-eyes fixed on her lethargic ones. Clara smiled at his adolescent curiosity, and she slowly brought her face closer to his.

"I had my fingers in her twat just yesterday," Clara whispered, and Ron tensed in more than one area. "She's been so stressed because of her workload, and when I caught her stressing herself to death in the library, I 'helped her relax'. You wouldn't believe how loud her moans were. You wouldn't believe how wildly her hips bucked against my arm. And after we were finished, we just cuddled together in a quiet corner." Ron was now just staring at her, his breathing labored and his trousers tightening.

"So… So you two are…?" Ron whispered, and she shook her head. I was born too late! I want to be in their year!

"I love her and she loves me, but we're not a couple," Clara replied, utterly enjoying the effect that she was having on him. "Like I said, Ron. There is nothing wrong with friends sharing some intimacy. I've seen Carey and Samantha kissing as well, but they haven't gone as far as Samantha and me. Carey is strictly straight. She only makes an exception for Samantha and myself."

"I see…" Ron mumbled, looking forward once again. "Um… Why do you three do it?" Fuck business, tell me more stories.

"Because you can only rely on your friends," Clara replied, once again resting her head on his left shoulder. "We know everything about each other. The good, the bad, and the ugly. That's love, Ron. Pure love. So why shouldn't we show that love to each other? Why shouldn't I kiss Carey when she offers to do my homework for me when I'm sick? Why shouldn't I give Samantha an orgasm when she's on the verge of tears from sheer stress?"

"I can sort of understand that," Ron admitted. They clearly don't understand what boundaries are though. But hey, if it makes them happy, who am I to judge?

"Can you really?" Clara whispered, her right hand reaching up and turning his head. "Do you really understand, Ron?"

"I… I understand that you love each other," Ron replied, looking into her eyes. "And if showing that love in a more intimate way makes you three happy, then who am I to say otherwise. I have no right to judge you whatsoever."

"Good answer," Clara hummed, and then she planted a quick peck on his lips. She just… She bloody kissed me. Same as Carey. "I was jealous that Carey got to kiss you, and now I can claim the same. You have soft lips for a boy."

"Tha… Thanks…" Ron stammered, his eyes fixed on hers.

"I'll be sure to tell Samantha," Clara smiled. "She mentioned that she wanted to try and show you more affection from now on. She has trouble opening up to people. Well… People who aren't Carey and me."

"She wants to show me more affection?" Ron asked, trying his best to regain his composure. "Why?"

"Because we like you, silly," Clara chuckled, resting her head on his left shoulder. "And we appreciate you."

"Appreciate me?" Ron asked.

"It's only Tuesday, and the first years have already made fifty-four points" Clara told him, taking him by surprise. "That's why I'm here. I want to show you just how appreciated you are." Is it just me, or is it a million degrees in this room?!

"Who… Who made the most points out of them?" Ron asked, his head turning back forward without his will.

"Mathew Roberts," Clara replied, her hold on him tightening slowly. "Now enough about them, let's talk about you. What kind of reward do you want from me?"

"I get to choose?" Ron asked, looking back to her.

"I find that to be more fun," Clara smiled seductively. "So… What can I do for you, Ron?" Merlin, I can think of a million things!

"I… I want to…" Ron stammered, but then he stopped completely. "I want you to kiss Carey…"

"Really?" Clara giggled, and Ron nodded slowly. "And you want to watch?"

"I would prefer that, yes," Ron replied, his mind feeling murky. I'm not cheating on Daphne if I just watch. I can't do that to her. I would hate myself forever.

"Then come to the library tonight," Clara told him, her smile turning rather sly. "Half an hour before Dinner. Understand? Don't get spotted. Just give me a signal, and watch from behind a shelf." Clara let go of him at that, and then she hopped off of his bed. "I'll see you tonight, Ron. I have to make some arrangements." Once she had left his room, Ron bent over and breathed frantically. Oh fuck. This is… This is unbelievable. Is she really going to do it?

---

Tuesday 8th September, 1993 (The Library – Thirty Minutes Before Dinner)

It was rather difficult to find Carey and Clara, both girls were studying in a rather secluded corner of the Library. Ron was currently under the Disillusionment Charm, and he planned to stay under it no matter what. Mostly because I don't want my view obstructed by a damn bookshelf. Now… How do I signal Clara? Ron looked around the girls, but he couldn't really come up with something. Fuck it, I'll just throw a book. Ron slowly moved closer to them, far too careful to make a single sound. And then, he smacked one of their books off of the table.

"Clara, can you please get that?" Carey asked. "It slipped off of the edge."

"Alright," Clara said sweetly, getting up and moving over to the book. What? No! Forget the book, woman! Snog your friend! As Clara bent down to pick it up, she stopped completely. Clara then sniffed the air, and a smile creeped onto her face. What the fuck? Is she a blood-hound? Clara picked up the book and put it on the table, and then she walked over to Carey.

"Can I help you with something, Clara?" Carey asked, looking up from her work.

"I spoke with Ron for us," Clara replied, and Ron nearly passed out. She can't be serious?!

"How is he?" Carey asked, looking slightly concerned. "He's not looking unwell, is he?" She's actually worried about me?

"He's fine," Clara replied. "No visible signs of fatigue, or fever. You can stop worrying now. Anyway… He turned down my reward."

"He did?" Carey asked. I did?

"Guess he's not interested in cheating on his girlfriend," Clara sighed, and Ron gaped at her back. What the fuck is going on here? Where's the girl on girl action?

"His loyalty is to be admired," Carey smiled to herself. "Don't do anything to hurt either of them, Clara. I'm warning you."

"Ohhh…" Clara cooed, and then she slowly circled Carey's seat. "Will you punish me if I disobey you?"

"If necessary," Carey smirked, her voice as silky as always.

"And how will you punish me, Carey?" Clara asked, and then she quickly straddled herself on top of Carey's lap. YES! FUCK YES! Ron barely managed to keep himself from pumping his fist into the air, but his grin couldn't be stopped. "Uh-oh… I caught the Head Girl unawares."

"We have work to do, Clara," Carey smiled, not at all looking worried.

"I want a break," Clara shrugged, putting her arms around Carey's neck. "I want to kiss and cuddle."

"Then find Samantha," Carey said, her arms wrapping around Clara's back.

"She's at Runes Club," Clara whispered, and then she began planting quick kisses on Carey's lips. This is Heaven. I fucking died, and I was reborn in Heaven. Ron slowly moved to the side of the girls, hoping to get a better view. Their quick kisses quickly began to turn passionate, and before long, Carey was using her tongue to probe Clara's mouth. Clara was just as passionate, playfully moaning and grinding on Carey's lap.

Ron just stood there, his mind focused on two things. One, the absolute beauties in front of him. Two, his Disillusionment Charm. This is just… Bloody hell, I'm about to tear out of my trousers. I can't believe that she's letting me watch this. Carey slowly began grinding as well, her left hand traveling into Clara's hair. Clara deepened the kiss at that, and Ron heard Carey moan into Clara's mouth. Their kissing is so different from what Daphne and I do. They're both moaning because of how good they feel doing this.

Watching the two of them was really starting to rile him up, and he desperately wanted to go and find Daphne. He wanted to try this with her. He wanted her to grind on him like Clara was doing with Carey, and he wanted to hear her moan again. Like she moaned when I gave her a love bite. Yes… YES! We must have her! All of her! Body and soul!

"Stop," Carey breathed out, pulling her head back from Clara's.

"Why?" Clara asked, her signature smile on her face. "I know you're enjoying this. I can feel you getting wet."

"That's the point," Carey panted, quickly stealing another kiss. "I'm getting close to an orgasm just from this."

"Really?" Clara asked, her tone nothing but sweet. Really? Just from snogging? Is that possible?

"I haven't masturbated for a while, Clara," Carey panted, her beautiful features completely flushed. "I've been too busy with getting the House in order." Now there's a sentence that I never expected to hear come out of her mouth. Is the Charm still in effect? Ron looked down at himself, and much to his relief, it was.

"Then let me help you, my sweet," Clara hummed, her right hand slowly creeping down Carey's blouse.

"We've never gone that far," Carey whispered, her breathing slowly returning to normal. "Samantha's told me about what you two get up to, but I've never-"

"Do you want me to stop?" Clara asked, her hand stopping just over Carey's stomach. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"Just this once," Carey whispered, leaning forward and planting another kiss on Clara's lips.

"Just this once," Clara smiled wickedly. An exclusive event?! Fuck, should I give them their privacy? This wasn't part of the deal. I only expected to see some snogging. Clara slowly squeezed her hand into Carey's jeans, and Ron could barely see anything because she was still straddling Carey. No nudity? Oh well. This is still the greatest thing that I've ever witnessed.

"Fuck…" Carey moaned softly as Clara moved her hand about. What's happening down there? Let me see! "Just keep doing that… I'm already so close…" Clara's hand slowly started moving faster inside of Carey's jeans, an ever-wicked smile on her lips. Carey however, had her eyes closed and was licking her lips. And Ron… Ron was doing his absolute best to keep his mind focused on the Charm.

"Do you hear that?" Clara asked sweetly, and then she leaned forward and began kissing Carey's neck. Hear what? That's when he noticed a strange sound. It sounds like… splashing? "That's you, Carey. That's you reacting to my fingers."

"I can hear it," Carey moaned, her hips moving with the rhythm of Clara's fingers. "I'm so close…"

"Let go," Clara whispered, planting kisses on her friend's jaw.

"Clara…" Carey moaned, and Clara quickly planted her lips onto Carey's. The blonde Head Girl began to jerk and moan into Clara's mouth, while her busty friend was just relentless. Carey's hips bucked upwards, nearly lifting Clara into the air. And then, Carey lost all the strength in her muscles. She just… Oh Merlin. I just saw… I have to get out of here… My cock is starting to hurt… Ugh, I hate that word so much. Ron slowly began to move away, and he could hear them whispering to each other. But he didn't care about their conversation. Not right now, at least.

---

Ten Minutes Later

Ron stepped out of the toilet stall, eager to wash his hands and face. I will never be the same again. Never.

"Hello, handsome," came Clara's voice, and Ron nearly jumped out of his skin. She was standing by the sinks, her lips curled up in a devious smile.

"Clara?" Ron asked, and then he looked around the boys' bathroom. "You can't be in here… This is the boys' bathroom…" Wait… How did she know that I was here? "Did you follow me here?"

"I didn't have to," Clara giggled. "This is the closest male restroom from the Library, and after the show that I just gave you, I know that you made a beeline for this place. So… How was it?" How was what? My me-time?

"The best I've had," Ron admitted, walking over to a sink. I owe her that much at least.

"Good to know," Clara laughed. "But I was talking about the show, Ron." Oh…

"Right…" Ron mumbled, staring at his gloved hand. Fuck, I can't take it off here. Do I really need to wash it? Actually, yes I do. My hand feels really sweaty in there.

"Not going to wash your hands?" Clara asked, and Ron looked to her. She was smiling wickedly at him, clearly pleased with herself.

"Um…" Ron muttered, his gloved hand clenching and unclenching.

"After what I just let you watch, don't you think that you can show me a little?" Clara asked, and Ron just stared at her. "Everyone always talks about your hand, you know. Most people think that it's a ploy for attention, but I don't think so. I think that you're not the sort of person who needs to employ such petty tactics."

"Do you really want to see it?" Ron asked, and she nodded. Fine. Fair is fair. Ron took off his glove, and then he showed her his scarred hand. Clara's smile died immediately, as did her playful demeanor. "Ugly, isn't it? I myself can't bear to look at it for more than a few seconds." Ron then washed his hands quickly, and once he had dried them, he put the glove back on.

"How did it happen?" Clara asked, her voice no longer sweet.

"Magical mishap," Ron lied. "If you saw my other scars, you'd run away screaming."

"Other scars?" Clara's eyes widened, and Ron simply shrugged. "I… I had no idea… I'm very sorry, Ron." Save your pity for someone who needs it.

"It is what it is," Ron said, giving her a fake smile. "Please don't tell anyone about this, not even Samantha and Carey."

"You have my word," Clara said firmly, he could see the pity in her eyes. It turned his stomach. Change the topic, Ron. Give her control of the conversation.

"I only expected to see some snogging, but what you did… It was just amazing," Ron said, and she blinked at him. He was trying to change the topic, and she quickly seized that opportunity.

"That will have to be our little secret," Clara told him, her demeanor slowly reverting to a more playful one. "Carey has never let me take things that far, and I couldn't resist the allure of it."

"The allure of it?" Ron asked, and her wicked smile creeped back onto her face. And she's back.

"You watching us," Clara told him, and Ron could only stare in response. "It gave me a certain thrill that I don't get often. Did you see her, Ron? Did you see how she was putty in my hands?"

"Oh, I saw it alright," Ron chuckled, he could still see it. "Seeing her like that… I'll probably never forget it."

"Thank you, Ron," Clara chuckled.

"Wait… If you're here, then where is she?" Ron asked.

"She limped down to the common room," Clara hummed. "She needs her rest after such an intense orgasm. I was scared that she'd break my finger when she contracted."

"Contracted?" Ron asked, he had no clue about what that meant.

"Boys," Clara sighed. "None of you know how a woman's body works, do you?"

"Can't say anything for the other boys, but I myself don't know anything about the female body's inner workings," Ron admitted. "I'll probably buy a book on it someday."

"A book?" Clara asked, giving Ron a curious look. "Ah… For your girlfriend."

"She is not my…" Ron trailed off. Not yet, at least.

"Stop being such a prude, Ron," Clara giggled, clearly teasing him. "She is gorgeous, and one day, she'll turn a lot of heads. You should be smart and lay your claim now. Otherwise, some other boy will."

"I'd like to see them try," Ron all but snarled, and Clara let out a laugh.

"Possessive," Clara cooed. "I like it. A man should keep what's his to himself." Why did she make it sound like Daphne's a toy? "Here's some advice, Ron. Pleasing a woman is not nearly as simple as pleasing a man. You would do well to learn about it." Clara turned to leave at that, but Ron quickly moved into her way. An insane idea was brewing in his head, one that he quickly began to implement.

"You know how to please women," Ron blurted out, and she blinked at him. "Carey… Intelligent, cold, and ruthless Carey was putty in your hands. I've never seen any woman look like that before… You know what you're doing."

"Well… I am a woman," Clara chuckled. "So of course I know how to please one. I've had a lot of practice… with myself." Ignore that comment, and that smile. Stay on task.

"You could teach me," Ron said, and Clara cocked her head. "You'd be the perfect tutor in this particular topic."

"And why would I teach you?" Clara asked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Tell me, Ron… Why do you want to learn about this?"

"You know why," Ron replied, but she tutted him.

"Say it, and I will consider it," Clara hummed. "What's your goal?" Is she serious? She wants me to say that I want to make Daphne feel like that when we're dating? "Ron, if you don't say it, then I'll walk away."

"I… I want to make Daphne… happy… someday…" Ron grit out.

"That must've been hard for you," Clara giggled, and Ron nodded slowly. "Hmmm, I wonder. Tell you what, Ron. Since I like you so much, I'll help you out."

"Really? Thanks, Clara-"

"But only if the first years keep earning us a lot of House Points," Clara added, and Ron blinked at her. "Nothing in this World is free, handsome. We already planned to reward you for your continued successes, and I've decided that this will be your reward. You keep the first years in line, and I'll teach you how to keep your girlfriend… happy."

"I see," Ron said, this was more than fair.

"Or… I could make you feel 'happy' instead," Clara said sweetly as she walked up to him, but he refused to budge. "You saw Carey, didn't you? I could do the same for you."

"No, thanks" Ron said quickly, doing his best to keep his composure.

"Most boys your age would take this opportunity," Clara whispered in his right ear. "She doesn't have to know…"

"I'll know," Ron said, taking a step back. I don't betray the people that are dear to me.

"Good answer," Clara smiled genuinely, and Ron blinked at her. "She's a lucky girl, I hope she knows that. Sadly, loyalty is a rare trait in our House. Keep working with the first years, and whenever it's time for your reward, I'll give you a lesson. Is that fair?"

"That's fair," Ron agreed. She gave him a saucy wink, and then she was gone.

---

Wednesday 9th September, 1993 (Outside Study of Ancient Runes Class – After Classes)

Professor Babbling was at least more subtle than Hagrid, but not by much. Ron had repeatedly caught her throwing sad looks towards him, which was just weird because he had only been her student for a week. Not to mention that she was constantly picking him out to answer her questions, and then rewarding him an unfair amount of points for his efforts. If Ron got something right, he would make ten points. If anyone else got something right, they'd make only five point. So it was no wonder that he was getting odd looks by the end of class, even from Blaise.

"Did you do something to earn her favor?" Blaise asked him, and Ron shook his head.

"She knows about my conditions," Ron whispered, and Blaise gave him a deadpan look.

"That makes sense," Blaise said aloofly. "She is giving you extra points because you're a wounded puppy."

"That's just mean," Ron sighed, but he knew that Blaise wasn't wrong.

"Hey, you made forty House Points by just answering four questions," Blaise nudged him. "Look at the silver lining, mate. The Triumvirate will be pleased by this." The Triumvirate… Bloody hell, I could barely sleep last night because of what I saw.

"Do you know how Theo and Daphne's report-"

"Hi, Ron," Hermione greeted him, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Do you want to walk down to the Potions Classroom with me? We've both got Potions Club now." I am aware of that.

"We were having a conversation, Granger," Blaise frowned at her, but she outright ignored him. "It's no wonder-"

"Blaise, stop it," Ron said, giving his friend a meaningful look. "And yes, let's walk down…" Ron began making his way down towards the Dungeons at that, a deep pit slowly forming in his stomach.

"Isn't this exciting?" Hermione asked him as both she and Blaise caught up to him. "I'm positively ecstatic! Can you tell me what it's like?"

"You'll see soon enough…" Ron replied, keeping his eyes forward. He missed Hermione's smile faltering for a moment, but Blaise didn't. If he pairs me up with her, I don't know if I'll be able to keep my shite together. Seeing her just reminds of that awful night.

"Does he reward House Points?" Hermione asked, the silence not sitting right with her. "You know, if we get things right."

"Not to my knowledge," Ron replied.

"You didn't see him give out House Points last week?" Hermione asked.

"No," Ron replied, his pace quickening without his knowledge.

"All the other clubs reward House Points," Hermione pointed out, and Ron nodded absentmindedly. In the back of Ron's mind, he could hear himself muttering like a madman as he tried to strangle the life out of her. "I'm actually thinking of joining the Dueling Club as well. I wasn't too keen on it at first, mostly because it will cause even more segregation between the Houses. But Harry and Neville convinced me otherwise. Are you joining the Dueling Club, Ron?"

"We all are," Blaise replied for him, his eyes studying his friend's blank stare.

"There's a rumor going around that the Professors finally have all the details down, and that they're going to let us in on them tonight," Hermione told Ron, once again ignoring Blaise. After her run-in with him last week, she knew that he wasn't worth her time and attention. "I heard something about teams… So I was thinking that maybe if we're allowed to make teams with people from the other Houses, you should join ours. I think that it'll-"

"Why would he do that?" Blaise asked her.

"I think that it'll be fun to spend more time together," Hermione continued, her attention focused on Ron. "Harry and Neville would definitely agree to us four being a team."

"And I ask again," Blaise stared at her coldly. "Why would he do that?"

"I'll just stick to Slytherin," Ron stated, he had barely heard anything that Hermione had said. Are we even going the right way? They're following me, but I'm just walking forward. Ron then paid closer attention to where he was going, and much to his relief, they were getting close to the Dungeons.

"Why don't we discuss that more?" Hermione smiled at him, while Blaise fought the urge to scoff at how pathetic she was being. "You know, the Gryffindors would definitely take a liking to you now."

"Now?" Blaise repeated. "Oh right… They're not blaming him for being the Heir now. Thanks for stopping your propaganda against him, by the way. We really appreciate it."

"What's your problem, Zabini?" Hermione demanded, she had finally gotten fed up with him. Are they fighting? Fuck, I zoned out completely.

"Your voice is annoying me," Blaise shrugged, and Hermione clenched her jaw at him.

"At least I don't talk like a robot," Hermione countered, but Blaise just blinked at her.

"What's a 'robot'?" Blaise asked.

"Of course you don't know," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Is it too much to ask for you lot to educate yourselves?"

"You lot?" Blaise asked, and then he looked to Ron. "You're fine with that?"

"No, I'm not," Ron sighed, and then he looked to Hermione. "Don't say that again."

"Why? He definitely-"

"Don't argue, just do as you're told," Ron ordered, and she blinked at him. "Blaise, I'll see you after Potions Club."

"Right," Blaise nodded. "Don't let your company ruin your work, Ron." With that, Blaise separated from them. Ron watched his friend leave with a new sense of dread. He didn't want to be alone with the girl that he had attempted to murder. How selfish can I get? She's the victim, but I'm the one who is having trouble being near her.

"Just do as I'm told?" Hermione asked haughtily, and Ron looked back to her. "Don't speak to me like that, Ron. I'm not one of your lackeys."

"My lackeys?" Ron asked as he began walking again.

"You know who I'm talking about," Hermione replied coldly.

"I really don't," Ron lied, he knew what she was getting at.

"Whatever," Hermione rolled her eyes. "People usually speak to each other with respect."

"Do they?" Ron asked, not really interested in her opinions. "Tell me, do they also say things like 'you lot'? What did you mean by that? Were you referring to Blaise as some Blood-Supremacist?"

"Only because he is one," Hermione replied, and Ron stopped once again.

"He is my friend, and he is not like that," Ron told her, but she simply rolled her eyes. Why is rolling her eyes like that? I'm making a genuine point.

"I'm sure that's what he tells you," Hermione argued. "Have you seen how he speaks to me? How he looks down his nose at everyone? He's definitely-"

"You don't know him," Ron said firmly. "You've never spoken to each other besides throwing petty insults at one another. He can be an arse, but you assuming something like this about him makes you no better."

"Are you calling me an arse?" Hermione asked, utterly shocked by his rudeness. "What's the matter with you, Ron? You don't speak to people like this."

"What's the matter with you?" Ron asked back, and she blinked at him. "What makes you the leading authority on who's a Blood-Supremacist? Huh? Answer me."

"I… I just… I can see it…" Hermione stammered, why was he speaking to her like that?

"You can just see it?" Ron repeated. "You can just 'see' people for who they really are then? Is that it? You have some gift that the rest of us don't possess? Tell me, what do you see when you look at me?" A failed murderer.

"Right now…" Hermione said, her voice going up an octave. "A massive jerk!" Hermione then ran past him, clearly too upset to continue this conversation.

"Great…" Ron sighed. "Why is she so damn sensitive? All the intelligence in the World, but she has the mental fortitude of a toddler."

---

Five Minutes Later

"A client of mine has lost his vision due to his son's misfired Conjunctivitis Curse," Snape told them, his eyes darting between Hermione and Ron. Both of them were on opposite sides of the room, which could only mean teenage drama. "Which Potion will allow him to go hunting with his friends this weekend?"

"The Oculus Potion, Professor," Hermione answered in a heartbeat, beating everyone in the room.

"Correct, Ms. Granger" Snape nodded, and she blinked at him for using a title before her name. "Mr. Weasley will assist you in making this Potion. You have two hours." Does he mean me, or Percy? Snape's eyes turned towards him, and Ron bit back a frown. He's doing this because of some ulterior reason. No way is he that cruel. He knows how I feel about being near her right now. Ron walked over to the storeroom, and Hermione joined him.

"We'll need-"

"I know the ingredients, Hermione," Ron said, slowly pulling them out.

"I'll prepare a station then," Hermione huffed, and then she left for a station at the back of the room. As Ron collected the ingredients, he heard Snape drawl on about his other clients. Before long, Ron was carefully placing the ingredients on his shared workstation.

"You can start crushing the Unicorn Horn, while I prepare the Wormwood Solution," Hermione ordered, quickly heating up the Cauldron. "Make sure that you ground-"

"I know," Ron told her. "I'm not Neville, Hermione. I know what I'm doing."

"Neville knows what he's doing," Hermione quickly defended her friend, but Ron just cocked an eyebrow at her. "Sometimes… It's not his fault, alright? It's Professor Snape's. He's always breathing down poor Neville's neck."

"Neville has blown up nine cauldrons in two years," Ron reminded her, and she frowned at him. "He nearly melted his workstation in his first class. Did Professor Snape cause that?"

"Well… No," Hermione replied. "But he certainly didn't help Neville."

"It's not that hard to follow instructions on a page," Ron said, and then he started crushing the Unicorn Horn. "The rest of us can do it, so why can't he?"

"Did I do something to upset you?" Hermione asked, she couldn't take his attitude anymore.

"No," Ron replied, smashing the Unicorn Horn harder than necessary. "Please start the Potion. We only have two hours."

"You're not acting like yourself, Ron," Hermione told him as she began adding water into the cauldron. "You've never spoken to me like this before. What's your problem?"

"I don't have one," Ron lied, deciding to focus on his work. I feel like I ate lead for lunch. And I think I might vomit. Why is Snape doing this?

"You clearly do," Hermione scoffed, throwing the Wormwood into the water. "I know that you've been ignoring me, and I have the right to know why. So go on… Tell me. What did I do to you?"

"Nothing," Ron replied. "Just focus on the Potion, alright? Snape will skin our hides if we don't get this right."

"I don't get things wrongs," Hermione said. "Are you done with the Horn yet? How long does it take for-"

"It's done," Ron cut her off, and then he handed her the mortar. "I'll get started on stewing the Mandrake."

"Whatever, Ron," Hermione waved him away.

---

Wednesday 9th September, 1993 (Potions Club – Nearly Dinnertime)

"Acceptable," Snape drawled as he peered into their cauldron, they were the last pair in the lab.

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said quickly, while Ron cleaned up the station.

"You are excused, Ms. Granger," Snape said, and Hermione grabbed her things and left. The moment the door closed behind her, Ron ran over to the nearest bin and vomited. Fuck… I had to swallow it three times…

"Are you alright?" Snape asked, looking around the empty Potions Lab.

"No…" Ron shook his head, his head still in the bin. "I nearly had a panic attack…"

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with Granger," Snape drawled, eyeing Ron with a cold look. "I thought you two were friends."

"I… I don't know anymore," Ron admitted, and then he vomited some more. "Ugh… There goes all the food I ate today…"

"And your Nutrition Potion?" Snape asked.

"I didn't get a chance to drink it…" Ron stood back up, cleaning mouth with a nearby rag. "Blaise was with me, and then Hermione… Why did you pair me with her?"

"Appearances need to be maintained," Snape replied. "And Albus asked me to."

"He did?" Ron asked, slowly falling into the nearest chair. I feel so lightheaded now.

"He wants you to stay friends with Potter's gang," Snape replied. "He clearly has a plan for them, and he wants you involved in it."

"He couldn't tell me that?" Ron asked, his head dropping down to his lap.

"Why are you fighting with Granger?" Snape asked, and Ron looked over to him.

"I'm not fighting with her," Ron replied. "I nearly killed her, in case you forgot."

"But you didn't," Snape drawled. "Move on."

"You know what? No," Ron said. "I've tried to 'move on', but I just can't… Seeing her just reminds me of what I went through… What I did… It's only been a damn week, so just cut me some slack." And she's constantly showing up everywhere lately.

"Not so easy, is it?" Snape asked, and Ron blinked at him.

"What's not easy?" Ron asked.

"To kill…" Snape whispered coldly. "You have this list in your head, but look at you right now. You haven't even killed anyone yet, but you're already unraveling. All you did was give her a concussion. Tell me, how will you react once you actually take a life? What will you do when you truly go through with your threats?"

"Worried about your friend?" Ron asked, but Snape just stared at him.

"Word is cheap, boy," Snape drawled. "Anyone can run their mouth."

"So you are pissed," Ron nodded to himself, and then he stood back up. "Why do you care about someone like Lucius Malfoy?"

"I care about his Family," Snape corrected him. "You plan to destroy that Family."

"No, I plan to get rid of a degenerate," Ron walked over to his things. "A murderer who should be in Azkaban… Attacking Hermione is nothing like my plans for him. She may have a rod of self-righteousness jammed up her arse, but she's not a killer."

"And you're not 'self-righteous', is that it?" Snape asked coldly, his eyes digging into Ron's. "You have the authority to decide who lives and dies?"

"I'm not claiming to be some moral authority, I just don't think that murderers should walk free," Ron replied. "I know that what I plan to do is fucked up, but I refuse to leave loose-ends. It's not the Death-Eaters in Azkaban who are trying to bring the Dark Lord back, it's the ones who got away with murdering hundreds of innocent people. Tell me, what gives them the right to go out and hunt Muggle-Borns and Muggles?" Snape didn't reply to that. "Yeah… I've read about the 'Hunts'. Fucking disgusting. Setting hunting dogs on people, making trophies out of them, raping and pillaging villages… Letting Werewolves infect children? You didn't see anything wrong with choosing a side like that?"

"I had my reasons," Snape whispered, his expression unreadable.

"I'm sure you did," Ron scoffed. "I'm sure you had plenty of reasons to do what you did. How many people have you killed? You told me that your first kill was a Muggle, right? Some alcoholic abuser? And what did you say about him? Oh yeah… 'He deserved it'. Tell me, did your other victims deserve it too?"

"Careful, Weasley," Snape hissed, but Ron merely cocked his eyebrow at him.

"Hiss all you want, but you know that I'm right," Ron said. "You had no problem with killing some abusive alcoholic, but now that someone wants to bring your murdering associate to justice, you're getting emotional. Well, guess what? Lucius Malfoy deserves to die. He deserves it. He spent his young years torturing and killing people because he hated their heritage, and now he's trying to assassinate little girls to get at their fathers. If you try to protect this man, I'll put you in a grave right next to his. Count on it."

Snape just stood there frozen, and Ron walked right past him and left the classroom. As he made his way towards the common room, he felt the sudden urge to crack his neck. And so Ron turned his head and cracked his neck loudly, a shudder born from relief passing through him. Where does he get off telling me about what's right and wrong? He literally became a murderer right out of Hogwarts.

---

Wednesday 9th September, 1993 (The Great Hall – Dinnertime)

"What did she say to you, Ron?" Tracey asked, and Ron let out a tired sigh.

"Hermione didn't do anything to me," Ron told them for the hundredth time.

"Then why you are in such a sour mood?" Daphne asked him.

"And why are the Trio clearly discussing you?" Theo pointed out, his eyes fixed on the Trio. Ron looked to where he was looking, and he saw them talking fervently. Occasionally, Neville would shoot him a look of disbelief, while Harry just stared with a furrowed brow. And then there was Ginny, who was clearly listening in and glaring at Ron. A dull headache began to torment him at the sight of his sister glaring at him, and Ron looked back down at his food.

"What's your sister's deal?" Blaise asked. "They're not even talking to her."

"I think that's the problem," Ron groaned, rubbing his forehead with his left hand. "She wants to be their friend, but they-"

"But they want you over her," Millie finished for him, and he nodded weakly.

"It looks to be that way," Ron said.

"That's pretty pathetic," Pansy noted, and Ron shot her a weak frown.

"Don't talk about her that way," Ron muttered. "She's… She's been through a lot…" Damn this headache.

"Here, drink this," Blaise said, pouring some cold pumpkin juice into Ron's glass. Ron picked up the glass, and he put it against his forehead.

"Merlin…" Ron sighed, the cold glass felt heavenly against his skin.

"I reckon you should go to sleep right after dinner, Ron," Tracey advised, and Ron nodded.

"We'll have to bolt out of here," Daphne told them. "The Trio and Ginny will try to corner him, I just know it."

"Then we bar their way," Theo shrugged. "Ron runs off to safety, while we do our best to run interference."

"I like that idea," Millie agreed. "They won't speak to us, so after he's clear, they'll probably leave for their common room."

"You should eat a bit more," Daphne suggested, and Ron once again nodded. That's when they heard an owl screeching overhead, and everyone in the Great Hall looked up to see a golden brown owl heading straight for Ron. An owl delivery? At night? The owl landed right in front of Ron rather gracefully, and it jerked its right leg forward.

"A letter?" Theo asked, and the owl hooted. "At this hour?" The owl hooted once more, and Ron slowly took the letter from its leg. The owl began to eye Theo's plate, and Theo chuckled. "Hungry, are you? Well, come on then. Uncle Theo will feed you."

"Uncle Theo?" Tracey and Pansy laughed, but Theo simply shrugged as he began to feed the owl from his plate. Ron quickly opened the letter once he saw the Gringotts Emblem on it, this had to be from Gornuk.

Mr. Weasley,

I hope this letter reaches you this very day. I have sent our fastest owl. There is a massive issue that has suddenly reared its head, and it affects your business in particular. Please come to Gringotts at your earliest convenience. This conversation cannot take place over letters.

Gornuk.

Ron reread the letter multiple times, his headache completely forgotten. What massive issue? What's happened?

"What did it say?" Daphne asked, reading Ron's worried expression. Ron simply handed her the letter, and while she read it, he frantically tried to think of what this issue was. Did one of the investors back out? No, that's not possible. Did someone break into my vault? No, that would be in the news. He said that it affects my business in particular. What does that mean? Shite. I have to go there tomorrow and find out what's happened.

"Bad news?" Millie asked.

"Looks like it," Daphne replied for Ron, and then she handed him the letter back.

"Something bad has happened," Ron told his friends. "Something to do with my business. My Logistics Officer wants me to come down to Gringotts as soon as possible."

"But you're at school," Pansy said. "You should go to the Headmaster about this. Get his permission to leave, you know."

"Pansy's right," Theo agreed. "Isn't you advertisement campaign supposed to start at the beginning of October?"

"It is," Ron replied. "Yeah, I'll talk to the Headmaster about this. I have two free periods after lunch tomorrow, I can use them to visit Gringotts."

"You sure that he'll give you leave?" Blaise asked.

"Why wouldn't he?" Tracey asked.

"Because no teacher is free to take Ron to Gringotts," Blaise replied, and Ron groaned. "He's a student, and so he needs to have a teacher with him if he leaves the premises."

"Take the Headmaster then," Theo suggested.

"Yeah, I'll just convince the busiest man alive to spare me his afternoon," Ron frowned at him.

"Yeah… That was a bad suggestion," Theo nodded to himself. "I was on a roll, and I got too arrogant. Should've pulled back."

"What the hell are you on about?" Millie asked Theo, and then she looked to Ron. "You can always go after classes, Ron."

"I have a session with Pomfrey," Ron said, and then he bit his tongue. They didn't know that.

"A session with Pomfrey?" Daphne asked. "On a Thursday?"

"You just had one two days ago," Pansy said, looking a bit concerned. "Is everything alright, Ron?"

"Yeah…" Ron lied. "I'm fine. Everything is fine." No new brain-damage here.

"Sure," Tracey cocked her eyebrow at him. "You've been the picture of health these past few days."

"Tracey, don't bring this up here," Blaise said.

"He's clearly going through something," Tracey said, and everyone shifted in their seats. "Ron… You can talk to us about it. We'll listen, and we'll do everything we can to help."

"Can we please not bring up my health issues on the dinner table?" Ron asked, and Tracey deflated. "There are people around us for Merlin's sake. As for this," Ron waved the letter, "it's my only concern right now."

"The Headmaster is leaving," Theo pointed out, and they all looked to see Dumbledore getting out of his seat.

"Where's he going?" Pansy asked. "Dinner isn't over yet." Dumbledore began heading towards the giant door, smiling and waving at the students as he went.

"Ron, go," Blaise nudged. "You might not get to see him tomorrow." He's right. Damnit. Ron quickly got out of his seat and followed after Dumbledore, he could feel multiple eyes on him.

"Ronald," Dumbledore smiled at him as he stepped into the Headmaster's way. "Important letter?"

"Huh?" Ron blinked, and then he nodded. "Yes, yes it is. Can I please speak to you in your Office?"

"Certainly," the old wizard chuckled, gesturing Ron towards the door.

---

Ten Minutes Later

"Ronald, I can't let you leave without supervision," Dumbledore said as he handfed Fawkes.

"Headmaster, please," Ron pleaded. "The letter told me to come by urgently, and I only have spare periods after lunch."

"What about after classes end?" Dumbledore asked him. "I can send Severus with you."

"I have a session with Madam Pomfrey," Ron replied. "Headmaster, please. This letter is not good news for me, I can feel it. If it's something to do with The Quibbler, then we'll both affected by it."

"Our plan to put Amelia Bones in power," Dumbledore said, and Ron nodded to himself. "Are you sure that you can't wait until this Saturday?"

"He wants me there as soon as possible," Ron replied. "I'll be fine, Headmaster. You know I will."

"As your Headmaster, I can't let you leave without supervision," Dumbledore sighed, turning to face Ron. "And I myself cannot come with you."

"Why?" Ron asked, and then the school bell went off. Dinner's over.

"I am leaving for Albania tomorrow morning," Dumbledore replied, and Ron blinked at him. "Nothing to worry about, Ronald. The Gaia Project is also facing some issues at the moment."

"Issues?" Ron asked.

"We underestimated the costs," Dumbledore replied.

"Do the Muggles know about that?" Ron asked, and Dumbledore shook his head. Thank Merlin, the last thing that we need is a Muggle-Wizard war.

"I plan to keep it that way," Dumbledore told him. "But the issue remains… We don't have the funds to complete our project. But enough about this. You have your own troubles right now, and you don't need to shoulder mine. You may go to Gringotts tomorrow."

"Really?" Ron asked. "Thank you, Headmaster. Truly!"

"I am putting my faith in you to be responsible, Ronald," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "Do not disappoint me."

"I will be nothing short of a saint," Ron grinned, and Dumbledore chuckled.

"I can already see myself regretting this decision," Dumbledore said, turning back to Fawkes.

"Seeing the Future is my gimmick," Ron quipped. "Thank you, Headmaster. I won't let you down."

"I know, dear boy," Dumbledore said. "You should head down to your common room. Severus might already be down there by now."

"Professor Snape?" Ron asked.

"Run along, Ronald," Dumbledore waved him away, and Ron bowed respectfully and made to leave. He quickly descended the spiral steps and made his way past the stone gargoyle, and that's when his path was blocked by a bunch of Gryffindors. Harry, Neville, Hermione, Ginny, the twins, and Percy had been lying in wait to ambush him, and he could do little but stare at them. What's this about?

"It can't be Ronnie?" Fred sniggered.

"The red hair would suggest that it is," George added, sniggering just like Fred.

"Hello," Ron greeted them all, his eyes lingering on Ginny's narrowed eyes.

"Is everything alright, Ron?" Percy asked. "You looked really rushed and worried."

"Oh… That," Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "Just some trouble with Gringotts. Nothing to worry about."

"Gringotts?" Percy asked, looking even more worried now.

"Did you get caught evading taxes?" Fred asked.

"I'm not old enough to pay taxes," Ron replied, but the twins tutted him. "I have to be seventeen-"

"Our own brother," they both sighed. "A tax fraud."

"Stop it, you two," Percy snapped at them. "This could be serious."

"I assure you, it is not," Ron lied. "Please don't worry about me, Perce. You have N.E. to prepare for."

"Why did you need to see Dumbledore?" Harry asked, and Ron blinked at him.

"I needed his permission to leave Hogwarts after lunch," Ron replied.

"Which teacher is accompanying you?" Hermione asked in a rather snappy tone, one that made Percy give her a confused for.

"None," Ron replied, and even the twins looked surprised. I can't lie about this. It's way too easy to get caught with something like this.

"None?!" the twins asked.

"Ron, that's not possible," Percy said quickly, while Hermione was genuinely gaping at him.

"He trusts me to be responsible," Ron told them. "Please… Relax. Everything is fine. I'll be back within an hour. Maybe two…" Or maybe three. It depends on the crisis.

"This is against all protocols," Percy shook his head.

"Do you mind dropping by a certain joke shop?" Fred asked.

"We need stink pellets," George said, and Percy frowned at them.

"Please stop your pranks," Percy requested with a grim tone. "I need to be studying, not cleaning up after you two."

"It's the second week, Prefect Percy," Fred chuckled.

"You need to enjoy life a little," George patted Percy's back.

"Um… Can I go?" Ron asked. "Professor Snape wants to speak with me as well."

"Aren't you busy?" Ginny asked, crossing her arms.

"Is that angst we smell?" the twins laughed, and then they sniffed the air dramatically.

"She's at that age," Ron said, giving her a deadpan look.

"Right," Percy said slowly, looking between Ron and Ginny. And then Percy looked to the Trio with narrowed eyes. Yeah, she wants to be their friend. So she's treating me like I'm not her brother anymore.

"Neville, can I talk to you?" Ron asked suddenly, a plan forming in his head.

"Me?" Neville blinked.

"Yeah, mate," Ron replied, and Neville looked towards a suspicious Harry. "Alone, please."

"Why alone?" Harry asked.

"It's private," Ron replied, getting annoyed with this pathetic excuse for an interrogation. Ron then looked to Neville with a dead serious look. "Neville, we are allies, are we not?"

"We are," Neville replied, and then he gestured Ron to follow him.

"Nev!" Harry called, staring at Neville in disbelief. Ron fought the urge to smirk at Harry's gobsmacked expression, and he followed after Neville.

"Thanks about this-" Ron started, but Harry, Hermione, and Ginny quickly followed after them.

"Neville, what are you doing?" Hermione asked. "We were supposed to talk to Ron together." So they did plan to ambush me. Sorry, but I don't have time for your whining. I have work to do.

"I'm in a hurry, Neville," Ron sighed. "I just need a word with you before I run off." Neville looked between Ron and his other friends, and this time, he chose to do right by his Family's name.

"Yeah, Ron," Neville nodded, and then they both left Harry, Hermione, and Ginny behind. "I'm going to be in so much trouble…"

"For what?" Ron asked. "I'm your friend too, mate. Your eternal friend, remember? And I really do need to ask you a few things." He might know about this crisis that Gornuk alluded to.

"What kinds of things?" Neville asked, shooting a sorry look behind them.

"Your Gran told you about my business, right?" Ron asked, and Neville nodded slowly.

"She told me right before I left for Hogwarts, and then she told me to not tell a soul," Neville replied. I love that woman. "Is your business in trouble?"

"Sort of," Ron sighed, and Neville gave him a sympathetic look. "Look, I just want to know if you mentioned it to anyone."

"On my Gran's life, I didn't," Neville swore. "Not even Harry and Hermione." Wow.

"I appreciate that, Neville," Ron said truthfully. "Has she sent you any letters referring to it?"

"No," Neville shook his head. "Gran's too paranoid to do that. And she really does want to do right by you for what you've done for her Family."

"Alright," Ron nodded. "Thank her for me, please. And don't mention the business to anyone. I need to sort this out quickly and quietly."

"Does your Family know?" Neville asked, and Ron stopped moving. Ginny. "They do, don't they?"

"Yes," Ron replied, he really didn't want to believe that Ginny would tell Harry and Hermione.

"Your sister might…" Neville started, but then he trailed off.

"I'll just have to hurry then, won't I?" Ron said, looking back towards his frowning sister. She wouldn't. Would she? Fuck, she totally would.

"Why don't you just ask her to keep this quiet until you sort it out?" Neville asked. "Or if you want, I can do it for you."

"Really?" Ron asked, looking back to Neville.

"I mean… I can try," Neville said uncomfortably.

"No, don't do that," Ron exhaled, he didn't want Neville getting in any more trouble with his friends. "I'll take care of this by myself. Thanks for helping me out here." So Neville and his Gran haven't done anything to cause this issue.

"Wait, before you go…" Neville said, stopping Ron from leaving. "Hermione mentioned that you two had a fight of sorts… Actually, she made it sound like you were defending Zabini's prejudiced views."

"Blaise is not a Blood-Supremacist," Ron said, resisting the urge to frown. "Mate, he helped you with the Chamber last year. Remember? I told him about my plan to involve you and Harry, and after I was out of the picture, he fulfilled my wishes. He's a good guy, and I know for a fact that he doesn't care about Blood-Supremacy. He's just… He's quite aloof sometimes. That's all. Merlin, Neville… He didn't even accept any credit for his part in the Chamber's discovery. None of us did."

"I… You make a good point," Neville groaned, looking thoroughly exhausted. "I just want this fighting to stop, you know. I mean, why can't we just sit down and talk? All of us?"

"My friends can be… difficult," Ron admitted.

"Then they already have something in common with mine," Neville joked, and Ron chuckled genuinely. "I'll talk to Hermione, mate. See if I can't sort this mess out."

"Just for the record, she literally thinks that my friends are Blood-Purists because of their House and Families," Ron said. "That's not fair, nor is it morally right. My friends have been there for me in ways that I can't even tell you."

"Hermione is bit… complicated… sometimes," Neville said slowly. "Some of the older Slytherin boys have been…" he trailed off.

"Have been what?" Ron asked.

"You know," Neville shrugged. "They target all the Muggle-Borns." Flint and his gang? Probably. No one else would be stupid enough to go against the Triumvirate's wishes. I need to tell them about this. "And then there was the person who upset her last Wednesday." Blaise.

"Right," Ron rubbed the back of his head. "I'd best be off, mate. Snape will be expecting me."

"Then you'd better go," Neville said, and Ron turned and left for the Dungeons. He could already hear raised voices from behind him, but he ignored them.

---

Five Minutes Later

"Finally," Snape drawled, eyeing Ron as soon as he entered the common room. The entire House was apparently waiting for him, and Ron smiled sheepishly at them. "Go and join your year-mates, Mr. Weasley."

"Sorry everyone," Ron said, giving people sorry nods as he went to his friends.

"So?" Daphne whispered.

"I got permission," Ron whispered back. Now what's this?

"Now that Mr. Weasley has finally decided to grace us with his presence, we can continue," Snape said icily, and everyone listened intently. "The Dueling Club's details have been worked out, and upon the Headmaster's insistence, we are to begin the Dueling Club on the twentieth of September. It will take place on every Sunday after that."

"Now, first things first," Snape said, his eyes traveling towards the first years. "First years are not permitted to join, but they can watch."

"What?" Tori gaped at the Potions Master.

"Why?" Mathew called out, and multiple people, including Ron, shushed them.

"Because you have barely owned your wands for more than two weeks," Snape said harshly. "Your lack of experience with your wands is a liability for the time being. All the Heads of Houses have agreed on this, and that is that." I suppose that's fair. They could really hurt one another if they aren't careful.

"What time does the Dueling Club open up on Sundays?" Flint asked, looking far too eager. This cunt's going to hurt someone. I don't need the Entity's help to see that.

"After Lunch," Snape replied. "All the tables will be cleared in the Great Hall, and an arena will be conjured up. The Dueling Club will work as an extended Tournament of sorts, so listen carefully. Each year-level will have its own Tournament Set, which means that you'll be competing against all the people in your respective year-levels. There will only be one winner from each year by the end of the Tournament Set's run, and that winner will be awarded one-hundred House Points." We can potentially make six hundred then, but that's unlikely.

"Furthermore," Snape went on. "There is also a Group Set, which will involve each House putting forward a team of five people from each year-level. These teams will face off against the other teams from their respective year-levels, and once it's all said and done, only one team from each year-level will be declared the winners. This team will earn their House one-hundred House Points." Again, we can only make six hundred if each year's winners are from Slytherin. Again, unlikely.

"And lastly," Snape continued. "There is the Grand Tournament. This Tournament will have four ranks; A, B, C, D. Rank D is the lowest, and rank A is the highest. Each person willing to participate in this Tournament will be ranked according to their skill level, and only four winners will be determined by the end of it. The winner from Rank D will win fifty House Points. The winner from rank C will win one-hundred and fifty House Points. The winner from rank B will win three-hundred House Points. And the winner from rank A will earn five-hundred House Points." Someone whistled loudly at that, making people snigger.

"Thank you, Mr. Bletchley," Snape frowned slightly. "The sign-up sheet will be up tonight, so make sure to sign it immediately if you wish to join any of the three Tournaments. You are not limited to one. For those who wish to join the Group Set, simply write down your names, and the Triumvirate will be in touch with you. Now, one more announcement."

"Since the Headmaster is rushing us," Snape drawled, keeping his irritation with Albus' persistence hidden. "Tomorrow, after classes end, we will be holding the Grand Tournament's ranking matches for the second years. On Friday, after classes end, we will be doing the same for the third years. And on Saturday, the rest of the year-levels will be sorted. Any questions?"

"What if we're not available on Saturday?" Flint asked.

"Then your rank will be determined by your grades," Snape replied.

"Enjoy rank D then, Flint," some fourth year called, and people burst into sniggers. Ha! Got him! Flint glared around the room, but people kept sniggering.

"This Dueling Club can net us the House-Cup," Snape said, and everyone stopped sniggering. "You. Will. Take. It. Seriously. I expect excellence from each of you. Do not disappoint me." With that, Snape billowed out of the common room.

"We're all signing up for all three, right?" Ron asked, his eyes going towards Daphne and Pansy.

"I'm in," Daphne smiled at him. That's my witch.

"Ugh… fine," Pansy flicked her hair back. "I'll lend you my skills…"

"Friday is going to be so much fun, isn't it?" Theo smirked, looking right at Ron. "You better forfeit if we get matched up. I don't want to embarrass you too much by smacking you around the arena."

"You're so kind," Ron sniggered. Friday, eh? That's fine. I'll go to Gringotts tomorrow. And then I'll destroy everyone in my year-level on Friday. No holding back. The Weasley name is on the line here.

---

Thursday 10th September, 1993 (D.A.D.A Classroom – Morning Classes)

The Dueling Club was already riling up the students, most of whom were either discussing it excitedly or shooting members of different Houses death-glares. Ron wasn't really surprised by this, especially because of how many House Points were on the line. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to fully invest in the competitive energy that was going around. His mind kept travelling towards Gornuk's letter, and the implications that it had alluded to.

He was truly starting to stress about this now, so much so that he had barely slept last night. Instead, he had spent his night reading Flitwick's book on Progenitor Spells in the hopes of it boring him to sleep. It had the opposite effect on him, and he had quickly flown through the first few chapters. As it turned out, people in the older days were a lot more 'hands on' than the wizards nowadays. Pretty much every Spell in that book required physical contact to be made with an object or person, which in turn made these Spells rather redundant.

Not to mention that most of the Spells that he had read about were rather useless, but there were a couple of gems in there. Gems like Glacius, Incendio, Baubillious, Flagellum Inferos, Lumos Solem, Fumos, and Cutis Terra. Gems that could be used both offensively and defensively. The only problem was that Ron couldn't cast a single one last night besides Glacius. He had tried over and over again, but other than a couple of sparks and extremely warm fingertips, none of the Spells had worked properly. He had decided to at least successfully cast these Spells before reading new ones because what was the point of learning Spells that you couldn't even cast.

"I have a great lesson planned for us today," Remus beamed at them, his eyes lingering on Ron for a moment. Ron smiled at him, glad to finally see Remus in action. Professor Lupin had quickly become a favorite of the students, mostly because he actually taught them Defense Against the Dark Arts. "But before we get into it, who can tell me what a Boggart is?" Ron quickly raised his hand to answer, driven by some childish need to please the rugged Professor.

"A Boggart is a shapeshifter, Sir," Hermione blurted out eagerly. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most." Ron slowly put his hand down, resisting the urge to frown. I should've called it out. Damn.

"Excellent, Hermione," Remus smiled at her, and she glowed from being praised. "Who can tell me what a Boggart looks like?" Ron once again raised his hand, but Hermione was way too fast.

"No one knows, Sir," Hermione answered, and Theo sniggered at Ron. "There is literally no record of a Boggart being seen in its true form. It can read the mind of its target from a mile away, and because they like to live in dark caves, no one has ever seen one without it turning into their worst fear."

"Correct again," Remus nodded, his eyes darting over Ron and the Slytherins. "A Boggart can be turned into a thousand wisps of black smoke, and many scholars have deemed this to be its true form. However, there is still an ongoing debate about its 'true' appearance. Now, who can tell me what can finish off a Boggart? The Slytherins this time." Hermione blinked at him, the correct answer was already on the tip of her tongue. Ron raised his hand again, and Remus nodded at him.

"Laughter can finish off a Boggart, Sir," Ron answered, and Remus shot him a smile.

"Correct, Ron," Remus said, and Ron felt Theo pat his back.

"How can we laugh at our worst fears, Professor?" Lavender asked, and Remus snapped his fingers.

"Excellent question, Lavender," Remus praised her, and she smiled widely. "The Charm that repels a Boggart is simple, but it requires force of mind. We will practice this Charm without wands first. Now, repeat after me… Riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus!" the class mimicked Remus, and he nodded firmly.

"Good, very good," Remus said. "But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. Since laughter is a Boggart's only weakness, the incantation alone is not enough. You must picture something truly humorous for this Charm to work. So I want you all to think hard on what you fear most, and then picture it as something comical. I will be right back." Remus left for his Office at that, which was located up the stairs behind the blackboard.

The whole room went dead silent, and Ron noticed that a lot of people had gone pale with worry. My greatest fear? Spiders sprang to mind, but they were quickly replaced by a dagger-sharp grin and toad-like eyes. The Entity… A shudder passed through Ron, and his hands clenched tightly. Oh no. Where did Remus go?

"I'll skip this lesson, I reckon," Theo whispered, and Ron broke out of his thoughts.

"Really?" Ron whispered, looking to his blank faced friend. Woah. He's lost his humor completely.

"Yeah…" Theo mumbled, and Ron nodded slowly. His greatest fear? Probably his mother's last moments. He saw her die, didn't he?

"I'll join you," Ron nudged him, giving Theo a weak smile. Theo blinked at him, and then a weak smile crossed his features. He doesn't know that I know.

"Pull the brain-damage card, mate," Theo whispered, and Ron smiled more widely.

"I can already feel a headache coming on," Ron joked, and Theo gave a weak chuckle. They all suddenly heard Remus come back out of his Office, a trembling chest floating behind him. Remus effortlessly placed the trunk at the front of the class, and then he turned to his students.

"Pack your books, please," Remus said. "Today, we will be having a practical class." If there's a Boggart in that chest, then I need to leave. Merlin knows what'll happen when it looks into my twisted mind.

---

Five Minutes Later

The chairs and tables had all been moved to the corners, and now the whole class stood in the middle of the room with Remus standing between them and the shaking chest. Ron was starting to panic about what was to come, the last thing he wanted was for that Boggart to turn into the Entity. For one, that would definitely out his secret. Secondly, and more importantly, Ron didn't want to endanger the lives of his classmates. If the Boggart mimicked the Entity even a little bit, then they would all be dead within seconds. Can it even look into my mind? Won't it run into the Entity? Shite, the Hat told me that my surface thoughts were no longer safe. I need to excuse myself somehow.

"I'm sure that you all know what's in the chest behind me," Remus said, and everyone eyed the chest warily. "Harry, can you tell what advantage we have over this particular Boggart?"

"Um…" Harry started, while Hermione bobbed up and down with her hand in the air next to him. "There's a whole bunch of us, so it won't know what to turn into?" Oh, he's right. Didn't think of that.

"Precisely," Remus beamed, while Hermione looked both surprised and disappointed. "It's always a smart move to confront a Boggart with company. That confuses it, and in its confused state, it is extremely vulnerable. Don't ever underestimate Boggarts, for if given the chance, they can become a real problem for their victims. What strengthens a Boggart?"

"Fear, Sir," Hermione answered, and Remus nodded. "A Boggart feeds on the fear of its victims, which in turn strengthens it."

"Exactly," Remus said. "The more fear that a Boggart consumes, the more powerful it becomes. The Screaming Bogey of Strathtully was a Boggart in Scotland that consumed so much fear from the local Muggles in the area that it morphed into a massive shadow with burning white eyes. It took several Ministry Officials to contain it, and after a long encounter, one of them successfully trapped it inside a matchbox."

"Who trapped it, Sir?" Finnegan asked.

"Lyall Lupin," Remus replied, and the class exchanged looks. Lupin?

"Any relation to you, Sir?" Fay asked.

"He was my father," Remus replied, and the class looked quite impressed. Lyall Lupin, eh? That's pretty neat. I didn't know that Remus' father worked in the Ministry.

"Good on your dad, Sir," Thomas said, and the class nodded in agreement.

"Thank you, Dean," Remus chucked. "I hope you've all given your worst fears some thought-"

"Are we really going to face a Boggart?" Parvati piped up, shooting her classmates a worried look.

"You have nothing to fear, Parvati," Remus assured her, but she simply trembled out of fear. "The Boggart is a cowardly Creature, and it can't hurt you. It will merely attempt to frighten you in order to feed, but with a simple Charm, you can rise above your fear."

"Okay…" Parvati muttered, while Lavender rubbed her back. I need to get the fuck out of this class. Should I fake a headache? Or maybe a heart attack?

"Now, please form a line," Remus instructed, and Ron quickly moved to the back of the class. He wasn't at all surprised when his friends joined him, none of them were too keen to show any kind of weakness to the Gryffindors. Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy squeezed themselves in between Ron's friends and the Gryffindors, and Ron saw both Crabbe and Goyle shoving the people in front of them. Pricks.

"Neville, you're up first it seems," Remus smiled at him, but Neville didn't look too pleased. "There's nothing to worry about, I promise. I will be right here. Now, since you're up first, why don't you help me with the demonstration?"

"Demonstration, Sir?" Neville gulped.

"Why don't you tell us what you fear most?" Remus asked, his voice soft and pleasant. Neville shot a look behind himself, and then he slowly looked back to Remus.

"Professor Snape…" Neville whispered.

"What was that?" Remus asked.

"Professor Snape…" Neville said a bit more loudly, and the class burst into laughter. Even Ron couldn't help but chuckle, Snape was indeed frightening. Well, to them at least. None of them know that he's the Order's secret weapon.

"Ah, Professor Snape," Remus nodded in understanding, his voice was still soft and pleasant. "He is a frightening figure, is he not?" Neville nodded at that. "Tell me, Neville. You live with your Grandmother, yes?"

"I do," Neville nodded slowly. "But I don't want that Boggart to turn into her either." The class began sniggering again, and the chest started shaking violently. Neville's Gran is probably scarier than Snape.

"I want you to picture her clothes in your mind, Neville," Remus told him. "And once 'Professor Snape' comes out of that chest, I want you to cast Riddikulus on him with her clothes clear in your mind. Do you understand?"

"I do," Neville nodded, thinking about his Gran's extreme sense of fashion.

"Alright…" Remus said, slowly walking up to the chest. And then, Remus opened it and quickly stepped to the side. The whole class saw Severus Snape slowly rise out of the chest, his black eyes flashing at Neville. Snape then stepped out of the chest, his trademark sneer in place, and Neville took a wary step backwards. "You can do this, Neville," Remus said, and Neville quickly brandished his wand.

"Riddikulus!" Neville chanted, and there was a loud noise like a whip-crack. Snape's black robes were transformed into a long, lace-trimmed dress, and he now wore a towering hat topped with a moth eaten vulture and a bright red purse dangled from his hand. The whole class exploded with laughter, with the exception of Malfoy. The paler than usual boy was just glaring at everyone for disrespecting his Godfather, a frown slowly forming on his face.

"Snape's not going to like this," Blaise whispered, a chuckle escaping his mouth.

"Definitely not," Tracey laughed, her whole face was lit up. The Boggart looked around the room, its expression showing its confusion.

"Seamus!" Remus called, and Finnegan moved up. Neville quickly made his way to the back of the line, a proud smile on his face.

"Good job, mate," Ron whispered as Neville passed him, and Neville gave him a thankful nod. That was brilliant. 'Snape' looked to Finnegan, and then it transformed into a woman with floor length black hair and a skeletal, green-tinged face. Is that a Banshee? The Banshee immediately began to wail, and everyone covered their ears because of the bone-chilling noise coming out of her mouth.

"Riddikulus!" Finnegan chanted, and the Banshee's voice stopped. She grabbed at her throat, and then she looked around as everyone started laughing at her.

"Fay!" Remus called, a massive smile on his face. Fay Dunbar quickly moved up, and the Banshee turned her attention towards the brown haired girl. The Banshee then morphed into a giant wild dog, snarling and barking at her as it bared its sharp teeth.

"Riddikulus!" Fay chanted, and the wild dog turned into a poodle with a rather high-pitched bark. The poodle suddenly yelped, and everyone started cooing or laughing at it.

"Brilliant!" Remus laughed. "Dean!" This line is moving fast. Fuck me, what do I do? As Dean Thomas faced down a disembodied living hand, Ron found himself shooting panicked looks towards Remus. What if the Boggart turned into something other than the Entity? That could work, right? But what else do I fear? And he knew… The answer came to him immediately. He feared failing his Cycle. He feared being knee deep in the blood of the people that he would fail if he wasn't successful in completing his Cycle.

"Parvati!" came Remus' voice, and Ron broke out of his dreadful thoughts. Parvati stepped up to the disembodied living hand which was trapped in a mouse-trap, her face showing her resolve. The hand morphed into a mummy which was poorly covered by bloodstained bandages.

"Riddikulus!" Parvati all but yelled, and the mummy's feet became tangled in its own bandages. It fell forward on its face with a loud thud, and everyone laughed wildly. But Ron didn't laugh, he was too busy being frozen with actual fear. Fear of discovery. Fear of what he might see. Fear of his Cycle being damaged by this moment.

"Hermione!" Remus called, and Hermione quickly stepped up. The mummy slowly stood back up, and it eyed Hermione critically. And then, it transformed into Professor McGonagall. The whole class gaped at Hermione's worst fear, while Hermione's bottom lip began to quiver.

"A failure," McGonagall spat out, a look of disdain upon her face. "I have never seen such a pathetic excuse for a witch in my life." The class stopped gaping, all of them shooting Hermione confused looks.

"Riddikulus!" Hermione chanted in a high-pitched voice, and McGonagall's frown turned upside down.

"Another perfect score, Ms. Granger," McGonagall beamed at her, and Hermione slowly smiled back. "You never cease to amaze me."

"Well done," Remus nodded, shooting Hermione a proud smile. "Harry!" Hermione quickly walked over towards the back of the class, and her eyes landed on Ron's fearful look for a moment. It took her by surprise, but she didn't stop to say anything. Harry stepped up, and McGonagall quickly transformed into a wisp of black smoke. What the…? The whole class shot confused looks towards Remus, who himself was just staring at the black mist.

"Harry… Potter…" came a cold hiss from the smoke, and everyone in the class froze. Oh no. Oh fuck! Everyone knew what this was… Who this was… "The Boy-who-lived… Come to die?" The mist suddenly turned into a face with blazing red eyes, and You-Know-Who's spirit hissed madly as it charged at a frozen Harry. Remus leaped in-between the Boggart and Harry without a second thought, his usually calm demeanor completely gone. The Boggart stopped dead in its tracks, and then it morphed into a floating silver crystal ball.

"Riddikulus!" Remus chanted, turning the silvery orb into a tiny cockroach. Remus then flicked his wand and sent the cockroach flying into the chest, which sealed itself with a loud clank. No one really gave Remus' worst fear any thought, mostly because they were all just staring at Harry. The bespectacled boy was just standing there, still frozen from seeing Lord Voldemort's spirit. Bloody hell, Harry's fear should've been obvious. Is that what the Dark Lord sounds like?

"Right, um…" Remus turned to the class, his eyes darting towards Harry. "That's enough for today's class everyone… How about we cut it early today, eh? You're all dismissed to your common rooms for the remainder of the lesson. We'll do the others next week… Harry, could you stay behind a moment?"

The class exchanged looks, and then slowly began to shift out of the room with their books. Neville and Hermione lingered behind, but soon enough, they too exited the classroom. Everyone was quite startled by what had just happened, including the Slytherins. Well, all of them except for Crabbe and Goyle, both of whom had a look of reverence on their fat faces. Lavender, Parvati, and Fay were in tears, while Thomas, Finnegan, and Neville were failing to comfort them. As for Ron's friends, they had gone eerily quiet.

"We should head back to the common room," Pansy whispered, her eyes darting towards the door frantically. "Please? I don't want to stay here."

"You guys go on," Ron said, absentmindedly rubbing Pansy's back. "I'm going to wait with the Gryffindors for Harry. Just to make sure that he's alright, you know."

"Right," Theo nodded weakly. "See you in a bit then."

"Yeah," Ron whispered, and his friends slowly left for the Dungeons. Ron looked around and noticed that he was the only Slytherin here, which meant that Malfoy and his bullies had already legged it down to the Dungeons. Bloody You-Know-Who springing up in the middle of class… Glad to see that this school is still a deathtrap. Ron spotted Hermione looking over at him, and after shooting a look at the other girls, Hermione walked over to him.

"Hi," Hermione greeted with a quiet voice.

"Hello," Ron greeted back, matching her voice. "How are you holding up?"

"Just a bit shaken, that's all," Hermione replied as she moved over to his right side. "You?"

"Same as you," Ron replied.

"You sure?" Hermione asked, and Ron looked to her. "That's what he looked like that night… Down in the chambers that were protecting the Stone. He attacked you in that form…" He did, didn't he? I almost forgot about that. Ron checked to make sure that his arms were covered by instinct, and luckily, Hermione didn't notice his actions.

"I'm fine, Hermione," Ron assured her. "I'm just worried about Harry. You know, in hindsight, putting Harry up there was probably not wise."

"You're not wrong," Hermione said softly. "But he deserves the chance to learn just as much as we do. Professor Lupin was probably already alert… Did you see how fast he moved in-between Harry and the Boggart?"

"I did," Ron replied, shooting her another look. The pit in his stomach was coming back, but he did his best to remain calm.

"Your friends left?" Hermione asked, and Ron nodded.

"They were quite shaken," Ron replied, and she nodded slowly. "Pansy… She didn't want to be near the classroom. So yeah… They left."

"Right…" Hermione muttered, and an awkward silence engulfed them. Ron just stood there with his eyes fixed on the door, while Hermione shifted her feet and shot looks towards Neville. "About last night, Ron… We didn't mean to come across as 'ambushers'."

"Pardon?" Ron looked to her, slightly bewildered by her change of topic.

"Neville said that we came across as overly aggressive," Hermione said, and Ron blinked at her. "We weren't trying to do that. Your sister was just really angry about you defending Zabini…"

"Of course she was," Ron sighed, he couldn't help but shake his head.

"Neville brought up the business with the Chamber, and that seemed to help Harry and Ginny calm down a bit," Hermione told him.

"And you?" Ron asked. "Are you still angry with me for defending my friend?"

"I'm your friend too," Hermione said meekly. "But you've been ignoring me…" Fuck, she's too smart to not have noticed my distance. "Did I do something? I've tried to think about what I could've done, but I just can't find a reason for you acting so distant with me." I nearly killed you. And I'm not strong enough to deal with what could've happened.

"It's nothing to do with you, Hermione," Ron sighed, and she waited for him to go on. "I've been… distant… with everyone lately. I'm just… I'm going through a lot of stuff right now, and I'm a bit scrambled."

"I see," Hermione said slowly. "Stuff like that letter?"

"Yeah, like that letter," Ron replied. "That fucking letter…" Calm down, Ron. You don't know what's gone wrong yet.

"I thought you said that it was nothing to worry about," Hermione said, slightly taken aback by how agitated Ron's voice had become.

"I don't want my siblings worrying over me," Ron replied honestly. "My problems shouldn't become their problems. Percy has N.E. , the twins have O. , and Ginny is still recovering from the Chamber business. She's trying to act tough, but I know my sister better than anyone. She's not doing well. So the last thing I want to do is to drop my problems at their feet."

"So I didn't do anything?" Hermione asked, and Ron shook his head. It was me. Just me.

"I only got upset with you yesterday because you were unfairly judging Blaise," Ron said. "He isn't like that. I know that he can be a bit cold, and sometimes, he can even be a prick. But he did right by Harry and Neville last year. He made sure that my wishes were fulfilled. My other friends were against the idea of involving them, especially after the stunt you three tried to pull, but Blaise put my wishes ahead of his own opinion of you three. And if it wasn't for my friends, Harry and Neville wouldn't have figured anything out."

"I didn't know about that," Hermione said, shooting an awkward look towards Neville, who was still talking to Fay. "I mean, I knew that Harry and Neville worked with your friends… But I didn't know that Zabini did that."

"Yeah…" Ron said tiredly. "You missed a lot last year." At that, the door of the D.A.D.A classroom swung open, and Harry stepped out with a bar of chocolate in his left hand. Hermione immediately left to check up by him, while Ron chose to linger in the back.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"I'm fine," Harry said rather coldly, his expression a mixture of anger and indifference.

"You sure?" Neville asked gently, slowly taking Harry's books into his own hands.

"Was that really You-Know-Who?" Finnegan asked.

"Shut up, Seamus," Lavender hissed, smacking him over the arm.

"Who else could it be?" Thomas asked, a shudder passing through him.

"Do you need anything, Harry?" Parvati asked, and both Fay and Runcorn nodded their support.

"He needs some space," Hermione said haughtily, frowning at the girls for circling Harry.

"I have some lemon cakes in my room," Lavender said. "We can have them now with some tea. Doesn't that sound nice, Harry?"

"Sure," Harry replied, his slightly haunted eyes landing on Ron. Ron gave him a nod, and Harry gave him one in return. He's just shocked. A bit of food and sleep will fix him right up. Ron turned and left at that, feeling a bit better now that he knew that Harry was alright. As he turned the corner, he ran into a particular blonde witch.

"Daph?" Ron asked, stopping just in time. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just waiting for you," Daphne replied, and then she began heading towards the Dungeons. Waiting for me? Ron quickly caught up with her, his eyes reading her face. "Is he alright?"

"Yeah, he's just a bit shaken up," Ron replied.

"Are you alright?" Daphne asked, shooting him a worried look.

"Me? Yeah… Why wouldn't I be?" Ron asked.

"I saw the look on your face, Ron," Daphne replied, and Ron blinked at her. "I've never seen you look so… frightened… before." Well, I was pretty fucking scared.

"Oh, that," Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "I was just panicking a bit."

"Panicking?" Daphne asked.

"I couldn't think of what I fear most," Ron replied, which was partly true. "I didn't want to embarrass myself, that's all."

"I see," Daphne said, her attractive features softening a bit. "Did you at least have an idea of what your Boggart would be?" Trust me, you don't want to know.

"Sort of," Ron admitted, and Daphne waited for him to go on. "Um…"

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Ron," Daphne said quickly. "I was just worried." Ron stopped walking at that, and Daphne did the same.

"Do you really want to know what I was worried about seeing?" Ron asked slowly, and Daphne nodded slowly. "Come here…"

"What was it?" Daphne whispered, stepping right up to Ron. "I won't tell a soul, I promise."

"It was you…" Ron whispered, and Daphne blinked at him.

"Me?" Daphne asked. "As in me being hurt?"

"Yeah," Ron replied, and she looked genuinely touched. "If I stepped up to that Boggart, it would have turned into you… And then… Its tits would slowly start shrinking until it was flat-chested." Ha! Got her! Daphne's expression morphed into a cold, unfeeling deadpan look.

"Rot in hell, Weasley," Daphne hissed, and then she turned around and began marching down towards the Dungeons.

"No! Wait!" Ron laughed, quickly running after her. "Daph… I'm serious… I was so-"

"Shut up," Daphne snapped. "Damn idiot…" Ron laughed loudly at that, and she shot him an angry glare. "You don't speak to a Lady like that, Weasley. Learn some bloody manners already."

"Are Ladies allowed to say 'bloody'?" Ron asked, and Daphne quickened her pace. "Uh-oh… I'm starting to influence your vocabulary."

"I'm not talking to you until you apologize," Daphne huffed in indignation.

"Sorry," Ron apologized with a grin. "There you go." Daphne didn't reply to that, and Ron skipped around her. "Do I really have to mean it? C'mon, talk to meeeee…"

---

Thursday 10th September, 1993 (Boys' Dorm – Before Lunch)

"Master looks very professional," Marty beamed, fervently nodding his head in approval. "Yes, very professional. And powerful."

"Thank you, Marty," Ron couldn't help but chuckle. He had asked his Elf to help him pick out an appropriate set of clothes for this meeting, and Marty had literally gone through every single suit combination. In the end, they had both settled on a slim-fit three piece suit. The pants, jacket, vest, and shirt were pitch black, and to add a bit of color, Marty had picked out a silver tie. Ron was honest enough to admit that he looked quite good, especially because of his clean hair-cut.

"Master should buy more clothes like this," Marty said as he packed up Ron's trunk. "Marty would be honored to create more combinations for Master."

"I'll keep that in mind," Ron smiled at Marty, his eyes scanning Marty's pillow-case… dress. "Marty… I was wondering-"

"Yes, Master?" Marty smiled a toothy smile.

"If I got you a Uniform, would that set you free?" Ron asked, and Marty's big eyes blinked repeatedly.

"Marty… does not know…" Marty replied after a few seconds. "Marty has never been given clothes to wear."

"Not even by Lord Greengrass?" Ron asked, and Marty shook his head. "I see. I was just thinking that I'd like you to wear something that matched your importance. You know, like a uniform that fully covers your body."

"Would that please Master?" Marty asked, and Ron blinked at him.

"Marty, I want you to be pleased," Ron replied. "I mean, if you're happy as is, then that's fine too… What I'm trying to say is that I want you to be happy."

"Marty is happy!" Marty quickly told Ron, a smile breaking out on his face.

"And if something was bothering you, you'd come to me right?" Ron asked, and Marty nodded fervently. Ron kneeled down on one knee in order to look Marty in the eyes.

"Master, your suit!" Marty exclaimed, shooting a panicked look towards Ron's right knee.

"Look at me, Marty," Ron ordered, and Marty looked into his eyes. "I want you to understand that I'm here for you just like you're here for me. If anything is ever bothering you, I want to know about it. Alright?"

"Marty… understands," Marty said slowly, his big eyes getting wetter. "Master is too kind to Marty…" I am?

"Yeah, I think you've got that the wrong way around mate," Ron chuckled. "Now c'mon, give me a hug." Marty quickly clung to Ron, his thin arms wrapping around Ron's neck. Ron smiled as he gently hugged Marty back, making sure to not squeeze too hard. After a few seconds, Marty let go of Ron.

"Marty is happy as is, Master," Marty said truthfully. "Promise."

"Alright," Ron nodded as he stood up, and Marty quickly snapped his fingers to clean the bit of dust on Ron's knee.

"Does Master require Marty's help in anything?" Marty asked eagerly.

"Actually, yes I do," Ron nodded as he took out his Gringotts pouch. Ron then took out two Galleons, and he handed them to Marty. "Go to a joke shop and buy as many stink pellets as you can with that. You should be able to buy around a hundred because they don't cost much."

"Is Master planning to play some jolly pranks?" Marty asked. Not really, but my brothers are.

"My brother, Fred and George, asked me for some," Ron replied. "Drop off the pellets in their room, but don't get spotted."

"Certainly," Marty bowed deeply, and then he was gone with a loud crack. Ron couldn't help but notice that he could still feel Marty, and then he remembered that he was bound to Marty. In a way, we're always together. Ron liked that thought, and he hoped that Marty could feel him as well. With all of that done, Ron made his way out of the room and towards the common room. As he stepped into the common room, he spotted his friends sitting by the fire.

"I'm about to head off," Ron said as he approached them, and Tracey whistled at him.

"Hello there, sexy," Tracey winked at him, and Ron sniggered.

"Nice suit, mate," Theo said, and Blaise nodded in agreement.

"But don't snigger," Blaise told him.

"Yeah, it takes away from the suit," Millie nodded, eyeing Ron approvingly.

"Wait," Pansy said as she shot out of her chair. She then walked over to Ron and began centering his tie and fixing his collar, and Ron noticed Daphne blinking at her friend's back. Let me guess, she wanted to do that. But she's still not talking to me. Hehe! A flat-chested Daphne is way scarier than the Entity, and I stand by that wholeheartedly. "Right, you look perfect!" Pansy beamed, and then she leaned up and kissed his left cheek.

"Thanks," Ron chuckled, and then he kissed her right cheek in return. "I'll be back by end of classes… I hope."

"Good luck, Ron," Millie said, and Ron gave her a nod.

"Don't let that Goblin trick you!" Tracey called out as Ron walked towards the exit.

"I won't," Ron said as he waved his hand over his shoulder, and then he exited the common room. I'll go to Snape's Office and wait for the bell. Once he's heading out for lunch, I'll ask his permission to use his floo. As Ron was walking through the Dungeons, a quick pair of footsteps quickly caught up to him. Ron turned around to see Daphne approaching him, and he smiled at her. Couldn't keep away, could you?

"Hello there, gorgeous," Ron greeted her, enjoying pulling her tail once again. "Are you still not talking to me?"

"Your suit jacket is done up wrong," Daphne pointed out, and Ron blinked at her.

"Sorry?" Ron asked, looking down at his black coat. "What's wrong with it?"

"It has three buttons, and you've done them all up," Daphne walked right up to him, and she unfastened the bottom button. "When your suit jacket has three buttons, you don't fasten the bottom one. The rule for the buttons from top to bottom is; sometimes, always, never."

"I… I'm not following you," Ron admitted.

"My father taught me," Daphne said, and then she reached up and began 'fixing' his tie. She can't be serious? Ron couldn't help but smile widely at her, she looked adorable as she tried to act nonchalant. Once she was done, she tried to step back, but Ron quickly put his arms around her. She was clearly taken off guard, judging by her entire body tensing.

"Tell me why this 'suit rule' exists," Ron said smoothly, and Daphne relaxed in his arms.

"It's just tradition," Daphne told him, and Ron nodded slowly. "If your suit jacket has two buttons, you only fasten the top one. If you're going to wear clothes like this, then you have to do it properly. Your appearance is a powerful tool, one that can help amplify your presence." She sounds just like Lord Greengrass right now, with a bit of Mary mixed in.

"And what's your opinion of my appearance right now?" Ron asked in a teasing manner.

"You look handsome," Daphne replied with little to no issue. "As long you keep that foul language of yours in check, I can see you catching the eyes of a lot of witches. Maybe even some wizards."

"I don't want their eyes on me," Ron told her, his hold tightening slightly.

"You shouldn't call my breasts 'tits'," Daphne said in a rather subdued voice. "It makes me feel… uncomfortable." Noted.

"Alright, I won't do that again," Ron promised. I guess I can understand why she'd be made uncomfortable by that. She's grown up in high society, and even a normal girl might have taken offence to that. "I'm sorry about being a little too vulgar."

"Thank you," Daphne smiled slightly. "Do… Do you really like… Never mind…"

"Do I like your bust?" Ron asked, and she averted her eyes. "You might be the only person who doesn't like them, trust me. The amount of times I've caught Theo shooting quick looks at your chest…"

"What?" Daphne looked up, and Ron shrugged.

"It's true," Ron told her, and she looked genuinely shocked. "Even Blaise does it sometimes. Actually, I caught Theo admiring Tracey's legs this morning at breakfast. She should really wear leggings, and a slightly longer skirt. Not that I'm complaining of course, she does have nice legs."

"You three spy on us?" Daphne asked.

"Not 'spy', we admire," Ron grinned, and Daphne drew in a deep breath. "Give us a break… We're at that age, aren't we? I've seen you staring at my bum more than once. And Pansy… She's constantly trying to undress me with her eyes."

"We're all turning into immoral fiends," Daphne realized, and Ron laughed loudly.

"I don't think that it's such a bad thing," Ron admitted. "Actually, it's helped me a lot with you."

"Really? How?" Daphne asked.

"We're standing in the middle of the Dungeons, and I have my arms wrapped around you," Ron pointed out, and Daphne blinked at him. "I bet you think nothing of this now, right?"

"You're… right," Daphne said. "Weird, huh?"

"We're all just becoming more… familiar… with each other," Ron said, and Daphne nodded her agreement.

"We're becoming a little too familiar," Daphne smirked, and Ron gave her a wink. "You do look really handsome right now…"

"Oh no," Ron said quickly. "Daphne, I'm in a hurry right now."

"I just want to wish you good luck," Daphne whispered, and then she leaned up and began planting soft kisses on his face. Sweet Merlin, those feel so nice. "And here's one for a bit of extra luck," Daphne said before planting a long kiss on his lips, one that ended too early for Ron's liking.

"Right," Ron mumbled, his head spinning slightly.

"Good luck… gorgeous," Daphne winked at him, and Ron chuckled as he let go of her. They then parted ways, and while Daphne went back to the common room, Ron headed for Snape's Office. The school bell rang just as Ron reached the Office, and he waited outside the Office patiently.

---

Five Minutes Later

"Mr. Weasley," Snape greeted him as he opened the door to his Office, and Ron followed him inside. "I take it that you are leaving before lunch?"

"I am," Ron replied. "This whole business with The Quibbler being in trouble is getting to me, and I want to get it fixed as soon as possible."

"You are welcome to use the floo," Snape said as he walked into his personal storeroom. Right. Ron moved to the fireplace, but before he flooed out, he decided to have a quick chat with Snape. "Sir, can I speak to you about something?"

"Out with it," Snape said coldly as he came back out of his storeroom. I should apologize to him for yesterday. Our conversation became too heated, and I lost control over my emotions.

"I'm sorry for yesterday," Ron said, and Snape cocked his eyebrow as he sat down. "I went too far… I… I shouldn't threaten you. And I shouldn't throw your past in your face. I was-"

"Childish, cruel, and completely out of line," Snape said icily, and Ron nodded in agreement. "The Entity spoke through you at the end, Mr. Weasley. Your eyes… They once again became crimson and toad-like." What?

"Really?" Ron asked, and Snape gave a curt nod. "Bloody hell…"

"I don't know what's going on with you and the Entity, but I know for a fact that it's not good," Snape said. "There was genuine hatred in your voice last night, Mr. Weasley. And this whole thing with Granger is unraveling you."

"I know," Ron whispered to himself.

"Despite your behavior, I can understand your reaction," Snape admitted, and Ron waited for him to go on. "You were clearly troubled, and I forced a conversation that you were not ready to have at the time. For that, I am sorry. Let's move past it."

"Alright," Ron agreed. Should I tell him about Crabbe and Goyle? "Sir, Crabbe and Goyle have-"

"I know," Snape interrupted him.

"He's… He's in a lot of trouble, Sir," Ron said, unsure of why he even cared. "His own room isn't even safe for him anymore."

"I know," Snape repeated, his expressionless features bothered Ron slightly. "He asked to be transferred yesterday, and I refused."

"Why?" Ron asked. "Why are you doing this to him? Isn't this going a bit too far for just a lesson? They're hurting him, Sir."

"Tell me, would you be who you are if you hadn't faced hardship at every turn?" Snape asked, and Ron shook his head. "You and Draco started in completely opposite directions of life. He was born into wealth and privilege, while you were born in a Family with neither. His childhood gave him an entitled view on life, and he completely gave into it. I plan to tear him out of that. I will not face my own Godson in the war to come. I want him by my side where I can keep my eye on him. Do you, of all people, not understand that?"

"He's your Family," Ron sighed, and Snape gave a curt nod.

"You take care of your Family, Mr. Weasley, and I will take care of mine," Snape said as he stood up. "Now be off, I am hungry."

"Wait… One more thing," Ron said quickly, and Snape waited for him to go on. "Today in D.A.D.A, we faced a Boggart." Snape's eyes widened slightly. "No, I didn't face it. But Neville did…"

"Longbottom?" Snape scowled slightly, the mere mention of that oaf hurt his brain.

"His Boggart was you," Ron said, and Snape's lips curled upwards. Of course he's proud of that. "When he cast Riddikulus on 'you', he dressed you in his Grandmother's clothes. So… Yeah…"

"What?" Snape hissed, his eyes flashing with fury. Neville is a dead man.

"I just thought that I should warn you," Ron said quickly. "People might… You know…"

"Leave," Snape drawled in an icy whisper, something shifting behind his eyes. Yeah, I better get out of his way.

"Right," Ron nodded, and then he grabbed a pinch of floo-powder. "The Leaky Cauldron." Ron then tossed the powder into the flames, and when they blazed green, Ron quickly stepped through them.

---

Thursday 10th September, 1993 (Gringotts Bank – Late Afternoon)

Ron sat quietly in the waiting area, patiently awaiting his turn. Part of him wanted to have his meeting with Gornuk already, but another part of him was dreading it. So he just sat there, his eyes fixed on the busy Goblins who were working tirelessly through the rush hour. Gornuk was literally dealing with three wizards at the same time, all the while putting up with a nasty witch that was calling him foul names for 'not seeing her immediately'. In all honesty, Ron didn't want to burden Gornuk any further. The last thing he needed was for this particular Goblin to throw a tantrum.

"Mr. Weasley?" came a witch's voice, and Ron looked to his left. A cute young witch was smiling down at him, and a little boy was shooting Ron nervous looks from behind her leg.

"Hello," Ron greeted the stranger with a smile. "Can I help you with something?"

"My little brother, Damien, is a fan of yours," the witch replied, she looked to be around nineteen or twenty. "He spotted you while we were waiting, and he wanted to know if you could sign something for him." Oh…

"I don't mind at all," Ron smiled more widely, and then he looked to Damien. "Hello, little man. What would you like me to sign?" Damien slowly stepped into view, and he showed Ron his copy of Wizard's Chess Weekly magazine. It had a picture of Ron on the front cover, and Ron remembered that his own mother had this exact same issue framed in the Living Room.

"Here's a pen," the witch said, handing Ron a fountain pen. Muggle-Borns? No, her brother wouldn't be here otherwise. Half-Bloods. Or maybe really progressive Pure-Bloods. Ron took the pen, and Damien handed him the magazine.

"Where do you want my signature?" Ron smiled at Damien, and Damien pointed on the white background. "Any particular message?"

"Anything is fine," Damien piped up. Shite, the pressure is on.

"Alright," Ron said. "Do you play Chess?"

"He does," the sister replied. "He's part of a Club of young kids who want to be Professional Chess players. Our father is the president, and he often talks about you." Wow. That's nice.

"To Damien, hope to you play against you someday soon," Ron said as he wrote down his message, and then he signed his name under the message.

"Thanks!" Damien beamed, taking the magazine from Ron. "Sis, look at it!"

"It's very nice, Damien," the witch smiled at her brother, and then she smiled at Ron.

"Here," Ron said, handing her the pen back.

"Thank you," the witch said as she took the pen back. "He'll probably show it off to everyone that he knows."

"Nu-uh," Damien denied, but his grin betrayed his lie.

"Damien, why don't you wait for me back at our seats?" the witch asked, and Damien nodded quickly.

"Thanks again!" Damien smiled at Ron, and then he ran off.

"Is there anything that you wanted to talk about?" Ron asked, trying to hide his growing suspicions. What does she want?

"A Goblin gave me a Galleon to deliver this to you," the witch whispered, and then she plucked out a note from her robes. "Here." Ron took the note from her, and she smiled pleasantly.

"A Goblin?" Ron asked.

"Thanks for signing the magazine for him," the witch said, and then she turned around and left. Ron quickly opened the note and read it to himself.

"Come to my Office, don't get seen by the vultures around my desk," Ron read in a whisper. Gornuk? Ron looked to his desk, and he noticed that there was a long line of people in front of an empty desk. Lunch break? Sneak bugger. Ron quickly walked around a bunch of desks, and then giant pillars, and then he snuck into the corridor that led to Gornuk's Office. Once he got to Office's door, Ron knocked on it twice.

"Come in," came Gornuk's voice, and Ron quickly entered the Office and shut the door behind himself. "Thank the Mine it's you…" The Mine? Like the Gold Mine under Gringotts? "Those people wouldn't stop pestering me."

"Aren't they your clients?" Ron asked as he took a seat, and Gornuk scoffed.

"They barely pay me anything," Gornuk said with a disgusted voice. "Wizard-kind is far too entitled. The higher paying clients reserve the right to be seen first, why is that so hard to understand?"

"I won't argue that," Ron said, and Gornuk nodded firmly. "Now, your letter… It sounded urgent." Just give it to me straight. I can handle bad news.

"Urgent? It's a catastrophe, Mr. Weasley," Gornuk frowned deeply, and Ron's stomach dropped. "One of your investors couldn't keep their mouth shut, and now Barnabas Cuffe is onto us."

"The Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Prophet?" Ron asked, his mind racing already. "Wait… Who talked? The investor's agreement explicitly said that they couldn't say a word about the business until the launch of the advertisement campaign."

"I don't have the identity of the loud mouth, but someone spoke," Gornuk sighed tiredly. "And Barnabas Cuffe has launched an investigation into the person who bought The Quibbler out from under him."

"So he doesn't know that it's me?" Ron asked.

"Not that I'm aware of," Gornuk replied. "But that isn't our problem right now, Mr. Weasley. Mr. Cuffe is a cunning man, and he has crippled us with one swift move." Crippled us?

"Explain," Ron said quickly, his stomach had tightened painfully.

"He has a lot of influence in the marketing scene, and he has pulled in quite a few favors," Gornuk started. "He understands that the people who purchased The Quibbler will need to promote it, and so he has barred all the advertising firms within Europe from dealing with us."

"He can do that?" Ron asked.

"All of these people are old friends, Mr. Weasley," Gornuk replied. "I managed to get word of this catastrophe before meeting with our advertising firm, and thankfully, I managed to keep your name hidden from them. But if we go to any firm within Europe now, Barnabas Cuffe will know who stole The Quibbler from him."

"Fuck!" Ron snapped, his face twisting from anger. Gornuk immediately seized up, he hadn't forgotten the boy's blazing red eyes. He knew that he didn't want to cross this boy no matter what. "Who talked?"

"I… I don't know, Mr. Weasley," Gornuk replied. "It had to be one of the investors. We told no one else." I told my parents, my friends, and my investors. Who would talk about this though?

"I'll look into this," Ron hissed, and then he took in a deep breath. Someone is going to get hurt for this. Badly hurt. "Then we need to go to an advertising firm outside of Europe. Right?"

"That is our only option, but it's not possible yet," Gornuk said, and Ron blinked at him. "Mr. Weasley, going to a firm outside of Europe is not going to be easy, most of them will refuse us simply because we are foreigners. Others will refuse us because we're Europeans asking a foreign country's advertising firm to advertise within Europe… That comes across as extremely suspicious."

"There has to be someone, Gornuk," Ron said. "The campaign is supposed to launch in October. I… I don't want to keep waiting around. And I doubt that Barnabas Cuffe will lose his patience any time soon."

"I am looking, but in doing so, I've run into another issue," Gornuk said. "Going to a foreign advertising firm will cost more… A lot more."

"How much?" Ron asked slowly, his face going slightly pale. Merlin, please help me.

"Around three thousand Galleons extra," Gornuk replied, and Ron hid his face with his hands. Good lord. Merlin's wrinkly bunghole… I'm so fucked.

"Why so much?" Ron mumbled through his hands.

"These people are not stupid, and they will take advantage of our situation," Gornuk replied. "Mr. Weasley, you don't have the funds for this."

"What about my vault? The Quibbler Vault, that is," Ron asked, his hands falling down in his lap.

"That money is reserved for the costs, and if you dip into it, you'll only hurt your own business," Gornuk replied. "Those seven thousand Galleons already have a purpose. Two thousand for the campaign, and five thousand for the cost of publishing and hiring. Journalists… Good journalists have sources, and they'll figure out that you lack the funds to pay them. If you dip into your Quibbler Vault, the advertising campaign won't matter."

"Oh no…" Ron shook his head, the base of his skull was starting to hurt. "My other Vault?"

"Doesn't have the required funds," Gornuk replied, and Ron chuckled mirthlessly. I'm done for. "As far as I can tell, you have three options now. One, you ask Gringotts for a loan. Personally, I don't recommend this."

"Why?" Ron asked, looking up at Gornuk.

"I am your Logistics Officer, and I know just how my kin will trap you into a web of debt," Gornuk replied. "Your second option is to ask for help from your investors. Lords Black and Greengrass are extremely wealthy, while Lady Longbottom also holds a sizable estate."

"You want to me to beg them?" Ron asked, his temper flaring up. "Do I look like a beggar to you, Goblin?"

"No, Mr. Weasley," Gornuk replied quickly. "It was only a suggestion."

"I'm not begging for money," Ron hissed. Priscilla… I can't help her now. Ron's heart sank at that, and his brain began to turn off. I failed her, didn't I? What about other people like her? No…

"Mr. Weasley?" Gornuk called, and Ron blinked at him. Ron's head was starting to spin, and his hands were trembling. A panic attack was coming, he could feel it. "Your final option is to sell The Quibbler in order to save yourself from going into debt."

"Sell?" Ron mumbled, and Gornuk nodded slowly. "What about Priscilla?"

"Who?" Gornuk asked, looking rather taken aback.

"Never mind…" Ron sighed, rubbing his forehead with his gloved hand. "Can I have a week to sort this out?"

"I advise haste, but yes, Mr. Weasley," Gornuk said. "Take some time to weigh your options. I will continue to look for a potential advertising firm that won't attempt to bankrupt you."

---

Ten Minutes Later

Ron found himself standing at the entrance of Knockturn Alley, but his feet refused to move any further. There were so many emotions holding him back, but the main one was guilt. Ever since he had stepped out of Gringotts, an unbearable amount of guilt had begun to crash down upon him. He knew just how fucked he was, just how much money he had lost, just how disappointed everyone would be with him, just how much Xeno's Family would suffer for his failure. It was far too much for him, but somehow, he had stopped himself from having a panic attack.

Someone had talked, and Ron needed to figure out who it was. But not today. I'm so tired right now because I barely slept last night. Ron turned back around and began making his way down Diagon Alley. The people and the shops that he passed looked like blurs to him because his mind was focused on the faraway sign of The Leaky Cauldron. I need to get to Hogwarts. One step at a time.

---

Twenty Minutes Later

Ron stood in front of Pomfrey's closed door, his eyes fixed on the sign that was hanging against the glass panel. At the Dueling Club for emergency purposes. Won't be back until right before dinner. Ron stared at the sign for a few minutes, and then he turned to leave for the Great Hall. As he was making his way towards the Moving Staircase, his legs stopped moving again. He could feel the heat rising in his stomach, and he knew that if he took another step forward, he was going vomit. His head was still spinning, and a mild headache had begun to plague him.

"What do I do?" Ron whispered to himself, but his mind couldn't think of anything. "I… I'll have to ask for money… For charity…" A sense of shame enveloped him, and his eyes began to sting. He had been so sure that he was going to pull this off. He had been so sure of himself that he had convinced Xeno to hand his life over to him. He had taken money out of people's pockets and promised them so much. He had wanted to help people like Priscilla so much.

"You are a failure, always have been," the Entity hissed in the back of his mind, and Ron immediately struck his own head.

"Shut up…" Ron said to himself. "Leave me alone…" But he knew that those words held merit. He was the epitome of a fuck-up. A brain-damaged, angry cripple. One that constantly causes problems for other people. Ron sniffled loudly, and then like a wounded animal, he scurried towards his Sanctuary.

---

Daphne Greengrass' POV

Thursday 10th September, 1993 (The Great Hall – Dinnertime)

The Great Hall was abuzz with loud chatter, and most of it was in regards to the second years' Duels. Truth be told, most of them were incredibly incompetent. But Daphne understood why. Professor Lupin was the first real D.A.D.A Professor that they'd ever had, and the second years had spent their first year learning under Gilderoy Lockhart. So it wasn't surprising that they didn't really know what they were doing.

But despite the majority of them being terrible at Dueling, some of them had actual talent. The Ravenclaws, being the academics that they were, knew a wide variety of Jinxes and Hexes. And therefore, they had dominated the other Houses rather easily. The Gryffindors had a couple of strong players on the field, those players being Ginny Weasley and Colin Creevey. The Hufflepuffs had tried their best to take part in the matches, but they weren't really into hurting other people. As for the Slytherins… Well, they hadn't won a single match.

Slytherin was currently the laughing stock of the entire school, and Daphne constantly spotted this Gryffindor or that Ravenclaw laughing at her House. Snape was glaring down at his students with utter disgust and contempt, while the Triumvirate looked anything but amused. As for the second year Slytherins, they kept shooting Theo and Daphne pitiful looks. Daphne figured that they wanted someone to help them avoid the consequences of their pathetic display, but she didn't give a damn about them. Her mind was solely focused on her boyfriend's absence, which did not bode well considering why he had left for Gringotts.

"He has to be in the Sanctuary," Blaise said, unable to hide the worry from his voice.

"What if he got kidnapped?" Pansy asked, looking rather jittery. Kidnapped?

"Who would kidnap Ron?" Theo asked.

"I don't know," Pansy mumbled. "Someone who wants money?"

"What money?" Theo asked. "Who would pay for his ransom? His Family?" My Family would. I'd pay in a heartbeat.

"Theo, stop being an arse to her," Tracey snapped. "She's just worried, that's all."

"He's fine, Pansy," Millie assured her friend. "He's probably either in his dorm, or he's in the Sanctuary. We'll check both after dinner ends, alright?"

"What if he isn't there?" Pansy asked.

"Then we need to alert Snape," Blaise replied, shooting a quick look at the Potions Master. "Bloody hell, he looks so pissed off. Someone is going to die tonight, I can feel it."

"I don't blame him," Theo chuckled mirthlessly. "First he gets turned into a schoolwide joke by Longbottom, and then the second years literally take a shit on Salazar's good name. Just look at how pleased the Gryffindors look. Smug twats."

"We'd do the same in their shoes," Daphne said without thinking, and everyone blinked at her. "What? It's true."

"You've been spending too much time with Ron," Theo shook his head. Not half as much time as I want. Where are you, Ron?

"If he was in the castle, then why wouldn't he watch his sisters' matches?" Pansy asked, still fixated on Ron's absence. "He'd never miss those."

"He probably got really bad news," Blaise pointed out. "He might be… You know… Having his 'moments'." Daphne gut twisted at the sound of that. I have his Calming Draughts! Damn! What if he's in real trouble right now?! Daphne shot a look towards the clock, and she grit her teeth. C'mon already! When is that bell going to ring?

---

Twenty Minutes Later

"He's not in there," Theo told them, he had just come back from the boys' room.

"Then we need to go to the-" Blaise started, but Snape suddenly burst into the common room.

"Second years!" Snape snapped, and everyone jumped out of his way. Snape looked murderous, his eyes flashing in a terrifying manner. This is bad. Really bad.

"Oh no," Millie whispered. "What do we do now?"

"I'm going up there," Daphne said firmly, no Professor was going to stop her from finding Ron.

"Are you mad?" Tracey whispered. "He'll kill you if he sees you leave the common room."

"And he's not leaving anytime soon," Theo grimaced, watching Snape roughly round up the second years. Daphne quickly stood up and walked into a dark corner, and when she was certain that no one was looking at her, she cast the Disillusionment Charm on herself.

"Brilliant," Pansy whispered. "Let's all-"

"No," Daphne whispered quickly. "Only me. If he notices us all missing, he will definitely start hunting us down."

"She's right," Blaise sighed, unsure of Daphne's real motives for wanting to go alone. "We'll stay here just in case someone comes looking for you two, and we'll make sure to convince them that you're both asleep already."

"We should go to our dorms then," Tracey whispered. "Bring him back if he's up there."

"I will," Daphne whispered, and then she slowly began to creep towards the exit. Snape was yelling at the whimpering second years, all the while hurling abuse at the Triumvirate as well. It was an ugly sight, but it gave her the perfect cover. Once she got to the entrance, she quickly slid through the small gap that Snape had left open in his haste.

Once she was in the Dungeons, she threw caution to the wind and began running for the seventh floor. Her Charm fortunately held, but every time she heard voices, she slowed down to a crawl. After five long minutes of sneaking about, she found herself on the seventh floor. Damnit! A few of the Gryffindors were still roaming the seventh floor, most of them still laughing at the Slytherins for getting decimated at the Dueling Club.

She ignored them as she slowly made her way towards the Sanctuary, making sure to stop her movements whenever someone was near her. It took her nearly ten minutes to reach the wall where the door was concealed, and after shooting multiple looks around the corridors, she paced back and forth for the door to appear. The moment it showed itself, she rushed inside and shut the door behind her. Merlin, that was really hard.

"Ron, are you-" Daphne started as she turned around, but her voice hitched when she saw the state of the room. Everything was in pieces… The dummies were shattered, the walls had scorch marks on them, the couches were thrown all over the place, and the coffee table was smashed down the middle. And then there was Ron, who was sitting in a corner with his head tucked into his knees. What the fuck?

"Ron?" Daphne called, and his head slowly came out from behind his knees. He looked paler than usual, there was a bruise on his right cheek bone, and his eyes were bloodshot. Daphne heart sank into her stomach, and despite the alarm bells going off in her head, she quickly rushed over to him. "Ron? What happened? Did… Did you do this?"

"I did," Ron replied, his voice was rather hoarse. He's been crying. Daphne's chest tightened, and she slowly sat down in front of him.

"Why?" Daphne asked softly.

"I had a panic attack," Ron replied, and then his head sunk back between his knees. "I couldn't control myself… So I broke everything…"

"Are you still…?" Daphne started, but trailed off.

"I'm too tired to even move properly," Ron croaked.

"What caused the panic attack, Ron?" Daphne asked slowly. "Did something bad happen at Gringotts? And… And how did you get that bruise?"

"I think I hit myself," Ron whispered, and Daphne's blood froze. He hurt himself? Why?! Daphne felt both horror and anger because of his confession, but she didn't show it. She had to calm him down right now. "As for Gringotts… My business is going to fail, and I'm going to go into debt."

"What? Why?" Daphne asked.

"Barnabas Cuffe turned all the advertising firms in Europe against me," Ron sniffled. "One of my investors talked about my business to the wrong person, and now Cuffe is trying to find out who I am. My only viable options are to beg for money, or to sell The Quibbler." Beg for money? He'll never do that. He's too proud to do that. Which means that he has to sell The Quibbler.

"What about the Bank?" Daphne asked. "You could get a loan."

"They'll just tie me up in debt," Ron told her, and she nodded in understanding. At that, his face twisted horribly and he started crying. Daphne immediately felt a lump in her own throat, and she quickly scurried to his side.

"No… No, Ron… Please don't cry," Daphne whispered in soothing voice as she put her right arm around him. His shoulders were a bit too broad, but she managed to shift some of his weight onto herself. "Shhh, it's okay."

"No, it's not," Ron cried, and then a heart-shattering sob tore its way out of his throat. "I failed everyone… Xeno and his Family… My investors…" He let out another sob at that, and his body began to tremble. "Priscilla…" The girl he met in Knockturn Alley? He still has her in his thoughts? "My mum was right to be skeptical… I'm so fucking stupid, Daphne…"

"No, you're not," Daphne whispered as she hugged him more tightly, her own eyes were starting to water at seeing him like this.

"I wasted thousands of Galleons on this," Ron wept. "I… I convinced Xeno to give his dream to me… His Family's Future… And then I ruined everything… I convinced them all… I'm so fucking stupid…"

"Stop saying that," Daphne sniffled.

"I fuck up everything I do," Ron sobbed. "Just look at my disgusting scars if you need evidence… Fuck, fuck, fuck… What am I supposed to do? How do… How do I tell Xeno about this? He'll hate me… Pandora will hate me…"

"No one will hate you," Daphne said firmly, finding every last bit of emotional strength in herself. She then used her left hand to pull his head over her chest, and Ron quickly clung to her and started crying loudly into her robes. "Just let it out, Ron. We'll figure out your next move after this. It's alright. I'm right here." Ron shook horribly, and Daphne just swayed back and forth as she ran her left hand through his hair.

"Don't… Don't leave…" Ron managed in between his sobs.

"Never," Daphne whispered, and then she kissed the top of his head. "I'm not going anywhere."

---

Thirty Minutes Later

In between his hysterical crying and self-berating, Ron had managed to tire himself out to the point of passing out. Daphne had then, with great difficult, adjusted Ron's body so that she could sit upright against the wall. Ron had curled up like a massive cat by her side, and now his head lay in her lap as he slept peacefully. Daphne absentmindedly played with his hair as she studied his blotchy, tear-stained face, and truth be told, she had barely managed to control her own waterworks. Seeing him like that was something that she never wanted to go through again.

"Let's get this off," Daphne whispered to herself as she pulled her dirtied robes over her head, and then she tossed them away unceremoniously. "I'll have to get them washed in the morning, which means no robes for me tomorrow." Daphne then began playing with his hair again, a weak smile creeping onto her face as he hummed a bit in his sleep. "Do you like that, Ron? I bet you do." The Sanctuary door opened suddenly, and Daphne looked up with a panicked look. Who's that?

"Merlin…" Theo muttered as he stepped into the Sanctuary, his wide-eyes eyes traveling around the room. "What the fuck happened in here?"

"Shhh," Daphne shushed as quietly as she could, and Theo looked to her. The rest of the group slowly came in after Theo, and he quickly told them to be quiet. They all looked around the room with genuinely shocked looks, and then they looked to her.

"Is he alright?" Pansy asked as she quickly ran up to them, and then she dropped down on her knees by Ron's side.

"He's asleep," Daphne whispered. "Keep the noise at a minimum please." I don't want him to wake up until I've thought of a way to help him.

"Did he do this?" Blaise asked, looking around the savaged room with a wary look.

"His knuckles are bloodied," Millie whispered. They are? I didn't even notice that. Bloody hell, Ron.

"Daph, what happened?" Tracey asked as they all sat down around Daphne and Ron. "Was he… Was he crying? And who bruised his face?"

"He was indeed crying, and he did that to himself," Daphne whispered, and Tracey looked utterly crestfallen. Pansy scooted closer to Ron's face, and then she took out a handkerchief from her robes. "Pans, don't… You'll wake him."

"I'll be gentle," Pansy promised, and then she slowly began cleaning Ron's face. Ron snorted when she tried to clean his nose, and then he smacked Pansy's hand away.

"Fuck off, Theo," Ron growled in his sleep, and then he turned his body around and dug his face into Daphne's stomach. "Damn prick…"

"What the fuck?" Theo gave Ron's back a deadpan look, while everyone else barely held back their laughs. Ron sunk his face deeper into her stomach as he cuddled up to her, and Daphne couldn't help but feel warm under the collar. His face is really warm, and I can feel it through my shirt.

"He's like a big cat," Tracey smiled a little, and then she ran her hand through his hair. "Daphne, what happened?"

"His business is in trouble," Daphne whispered, and the all nodded slowly.

"Is someone targeting it?" Blaise asked, and Daphne nodded.

"They went after the advertising firms, I think," Daphne whispered.

"You think?" Theo asked.

"He was hysterical," Daphne whispered, and Theo gave Ron a rather sad look. "From what I gathered, he doesn't have the money to advertise his business anymore. Which means that he can either sell it, or ask for money from my father."

"He'll cut out his own tongue before he does that," Blaise said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"He won't sell either," Millie whispered. "Isn't the Lovegood Family's Future earnings tied to his business."

"What do we do?" Pansy whispered as she rubbed Ron's back gently.

"We come up with a plan," Tracey whispered, her face becoming dead-serious. "We help Ron find another way."

"I'm open to suggestions," Daphne whispered. "There has to be something that he can do about this."

"Can't he just publish issues without advertising The Quibbler?" Pansy asked.

"The costs are too high," Theo whispered. "He has a very specific vision for The Quibbler, and without a proper reader-base, his plans won't work."

"He'll have to butcher his business to keep it alive," Blaise whispered.

"I want us to have a solution for him by the time he wakes up," Daphne whispered, and they all nodded.

"We'd better start devising a decent strategy then," Theo whispered.

"What have you come up with so far?" Blaise whispered.

"Nothing at all," Daphne whispered back. "He only fell asleep ten minutes ago."

"This is going to be a long night," Tracey sighed, and they all nodded in agreement.

---

Author's Notes: I hope that was an enjoyable read! Much happened in this chapter, including our first smut-like scene ever! Sadly, Ron's a little too young to be participating in such acts, but hey, at least he got to watch some action.

Next Chapter should be up by the upcoming Monday. As I'm sure you know, some intense stuff will be in it.

See you guys soon!