AUTHOR'S NOTES: Chapter 76 is here, and it's a big one! I felt that a proper chapter was deserved after the last one! I won't keep you all waiting:
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.
Fate
Chapter 77 - Tragedy
Ronald Weasley's POV
Sunday 20th September, 1993 (The Great Hall – Breakfast)
Today was the day! He was finally going to ask Daphne to be his official girlfriend, and in full honesty, he was horribly nervous. His jittery nerves didn't really make any sense to him, especially considering that last night the pair of them had spent over thirty minutes cuddling and kissing. I mean, we're already a couple, but I'm still so damn nervous. How do I even ask her? Do I just pull her aside and say 'Daphne, be my girlfriend'? No, that sounded too much like an order.
"Ron? Breakfast?" Pansy waved at him, and Ron broke out of his thoughts.
"Earth to Ron," Tracey said as she tapped his foot with hers.
"Sorry, I was just thinking," Ron said, his eyes darting towards Daphne for a moment. She was still smiling lightly, and had been ever since last night. She clearly enjoyed it a lot considering that she's smiling in public. "Theo, can you pass the jam?"
"Here," Theo said as he handed Ron the jar. "By the way, are you teaching your first years today?"
"I am," Ron replied. "Why?"
"I was wondering if I could tag along," Theo said, which earned him confused looks from everyone. "I just want some pointers, that's all. The first years bloody worship you, and it's only been three weeks since you became their caretaker. So, can I tag along? I think that it'll help me with the second years."
"Sure," Ron shrugged.
"Millie and I would like to tag along too then," Daphne said, and Ron gave her a smitten smile.
"Of course, Daph," Ron said, and whist she smiled back at him, the others simply exchanged looks. Look at that smile. It's bloody perfect.
"Right…" Blaise said slowly. "When are you going-"
"St. Mungo's burned down!" someone yelled, and every eye in the Great Hall darted towards the Hufflepuff fifth year. The boy was holding a copy of his freshly delivered Daily Prophet in his hands, a panicked look on his face.
"Mr. Murphy…" McGonagall blinked at him, but the boy began shouting what he was reading.
"They're saying that it was an accidental Magical Fire! Seventy nine people are already confirmed dead!" the boy announced, and the whole Hall went dead silent. "The Aurors are trying to figure out what happened!" The boy then looked to the stunned faces staring him, his hold on his paper tightening. "Did you hear me?! St. Mungo's burned down!"
"Is he… Is he serious?" Pansy muttered, her hands quickly covering her mouth. The Hall suddenly erupted into shouting, whilst the Professors just looked to each other with disbelieving looks.
"St. Mungo's," Ron whispered under his breath, whilst his friends began talking to each other loudly. "It burnt down?" His mind immediately drifted to the timing of this tragedy, which had occurred conveniently after the Dark Mark had been powered down. But then almost immediately after, his mind drifted towards the victims. Sweet Circe, did he say seventy nine people are confirmed dead already?
"Please, calm yourselves!" McGonagall shouted, but no one listened to her. Instead, they kept bombarding the Hufflepuff boy with questions. But when the owls suddenly flew into the Great Hall, everyone looked up to them. The yelling got even louder once the owls started delivering Daily Prophet copies to the other students, and when Theo's copy landed in his hands, his friends immediately looked to him.
"Merlin…" Theo breathed out, his eyes fixed on the photo of St. Mungo's Hospital reduced to a pile of smoking rubble. "He's telling the truth… It really did burn down…"
Neville Longbottom's POV
Sunday 20th September, 1993 (The Great Hall – Breakfast)
The yelling sounded so distant to him right now. All he could really focus on right now was the paper in his hands, his eyes were fixed on the photo of what was left of St. Mungo's Hospital. The photo showed the smoking ruins of the Muggle building which housed St. Mungo's, and Neville stared at the handful of Aurors running around as they controlled the grieving crowd. He already knew what this meant for his parents, who were permanent residents at St. Mungo's, but he couldn't feel a damn thing. All he could do was stare at the photo.
"Neville?" Hermione mumbled weakly from his left, and he slowly looked to her.
"Yes?" Neville asked, and his calm voice made her eyes tear up even more.
"Your… Your parents?" Hermione whispered, her bottom lip was starting to quiver. Neville swallowed thickly, and then he looked back to the photo. Hermione shot Harry a heartbroken look, whilst the Boy-Who-Lived simply stared at his best friend. Hermione slowly scooted closer to Neville, and then she hugged him from the side.
The shouting in the Great Hall was quickly turning into open wailing, with students from each House going into a panic over their Families. The Professors had started moving around the Great Hall, all of them doing their best to calm the students down. The only two staff members who weren't walking amongst the students were Snape and Madam Pomfrey. Snape was just sitting there, his black eyes fixed on his own copy. Whereas Madam Pomfrey was weeping into her copy, clearly mourning the possible deaths of most of her friends and colleagues.
"Neville, talk to us," Harry whispered from across him, but all Neville could manage was a dull stare in response. He felt so drained all of a sudden, like he hadn't slept in over a decade. Mum… Dad…
Sunday 20th September, 1993 (Gryffindor Tower – Before Lunch)
Most of the Gryffindors were sitting around in the common room, all of them staring at their copies of the Daily Prophet. The confirmed death-toll was increasing by the hour, and every time it went up, the students fell deeper into grief. Quite a few of the students were still crying, but not Neville. He hadn't said a word since this morning, mostly because he didn't know what to say. What could he possibly say? He knew that his parents had been killed in the Magical Fire, and his best friends knew it too. He had, of course, sent an owl to his Gran, but that was only because Harry and Hermione had begged him to.
"One hundred and four," Hermione suddenly sniffled, which was followed by pained voices emanating throughout the common room. That's twenty five more people now…
"How are they updating the Daily Prophet like that?" Ginny whispered to Hermione.
"The Protean Charm," Percy replied, the Weasleys were currently sitting with Neville and his friends. And no, they didn't know about Neville's parents. Only Harry and Hermione knew, and Neville wanted to keep it that way.
"Lunch is about to start soon," Harry said, his eyes fixed on Neville. "Nev, do you feel hungry?" Neville shook his head, and Harry shot a look towards Hermione.
"Are you sure?" Hermione croaked, and Neville nodded tiredly. I don't know what I'm supposed to do right now, so I'll just sit here. I'll just wait. The Weasleys exchanged quick looks, they were no doubt wondering why Neville was so distraught.
"Percy," came McGonagall's voice, and everyone looked to her. She looked quite sorrowful, her usually sharp gaze had been dulled considerably. Before people could start asking her questions, she raised her hand to silence them. "Percy, gather the prefects."
"Yes, Professor," Percy nodded firmly as he stood up.
"Bring them down to the Great Hall," McGonagall said, and just like that, she was gone. Percy quickly began to move around the common room, gathering the prefects or finding out about their whereabouts.
"What do you think that's about?" Fred asked, it was odd seeing the twins without a smile on their faces.
"Whatever it is, it affects this House," George replied. "Why else would all the prefects be called into action?"
"It's probably the same with every House right now," Hermione pointed out, and then she looked back to Neville. "Neville, do you really not feel hungry?" Neville simply shook his head, he just wanted to keep sitting here.
"Okay…" Hermione muttered, her eyes welling up again.
Thirty Minutes Later
Most of the Gryffindors had left to eat lunch, while a few of them weren't really in the mindset for eating lunch with their friends. Neville was one of these people, the people who knew for certain that they had lost someone in the St. Mungo's tragedy. The death-toll had increased to one hundred and eleven now, and would continue to increase as more people reported their lost ones. Neville couldn't help but wonder if his Gran had reported his parents' deaths to the Aurors, who were desperately trying to account for the losses, but were failing miserably because the fire had left behind nothing but ash.
Harry and Hermione had left for lunch, but he knew that they'd only left in order to bring him something to eat. Harry had been adamant about not leaving, but then Hermione had whispered something into his ear, which in turn had made Harry follow her down to the Great Hall. Neville had then left for his empty dorm, he couldn't bear to hear his fellow grievers for another second. And so now here he was, sitting on the floor by his trunk, his eyes fixed on the death-toll number.
He honestly didn't know why he wasn't grieving his heart out, something that was genuinely bothering him. His parents were dead, but he hadn't shed a single tear. He hadn't even opened his mouth since this morning. Instead, he was just… there. Why wasn't he crying like Fay, who was certain that her mother had been working the night-shift last night? Why hadn't he flown into a rage like his fellow grievers when the prefects had announced that dinner was compulsory, and that attendance would be checked off? Was he even a griever?
He was supposed to be, his parents were dead as of last night. Sure, he had never had the privilege of growing up with them. Sure, they didn't even know who he was. Sure, he somewhat hated visiting them and seeing them like that. Sure, the only things that he knew about them had come from the stories his Gran had told him. Sure, they were finally at peace now. There were so many reasons for him to not grieve, but he felt like he had to. They were his parents, despite the fact that they had died not knowing that.
Neville finally put the paper down at that, and then he slid over to his trunk. After unlocking it, he opened it and found the little wooden box that he had snuck into Hogwarts. His Gran hated this box, and she had forbidden him from carrying it around. But he could never bring himself to leave it behind. Neville took the box out and placed it next to the Daily Prophet, his fingers slowly undoing the tiny latches. The moment he opened the box, his breath hitched in his throat.
His mother's gum wrappers were staring back at him, and in that moment, he realized just what he had lost. He'd never hear his mother humming that strange tune to herself. He'd never be given another gum wrapper by her again. He'd never see that curious smile on her face again, the smile that had proved to him that she had been the kindest woman in the World. He'd never get to read his Herbology books to her again. Or just sit by her side for hours on end.
He'd never get to drone on about Hogwarts to his father. He'd never get to see that brief look of recognition that his father tended to give him whenever he'd read to his mother. He'd never get to hear stories of how amazing his father was again, not without his heart clenching painfully. He'd never get to tell his father that he planned to become an Auror one day, while he told his mother his true passion for Herbology. They were both dead and gone, and now he was truly alone.
His fingers slowly reached into the box, and he took out a handful of gum wrappers. The more he stared at them, the more his eyes stung. And then, he finally made a noise. He sounded like a wounded dog at first, but before he knew it, he was crying so hard that his chest hurt. They're dead… I'll never get to see them again… He grabbed more gum wrappers with his hands, and then he shoved his tear-soaked face into his hands.
He could smell the spearmint on the gum wrappers, a smell that his mother was extremely fond of. She never ate the chewing gums, she simply liked to keep the wrappers by her bedside because the smell brought some sort of comfort to her. Which is why he always collected them, even when his Gran told him to throw the wrappers away. Despite not knowing who he was, his mother was willing to share her comfort with him. These gum wrappers were the closest thing he had to his mother's love, and he'd never be given another one from her again. In his pain and grief, he didn't even hear his room door open.
"Neville, we got…" Hermione started, but she stopped mid-sentence when she saw the state of Neville. Hermione quickly ran up and crouched down beside him, while Harry put the plate of sandwiches on a nearby bedside table before planting himself on Neville's other side.
"Nev," Harry whispered as he put his arm around his best mate, who was weeping hysterically into a handful of gum wrappers. "I'm so sorry, Nev."
"Me too," Hermione whispered as she rubbed his back.
"They're dead…" Neville wept into his hands, and then he let out a sob that shook his entire body. "I'll… I'll never get to… see them again… I didn't get to… tell them that I loved them… one last time… They're gone… They're both gone…" His friends hugged him from his sides, and although they were whispering words of comfort to him, he couldn't hear them over the sound of his own pain. Frank and Alice Longbottom were gone, and their son was truly an orphan now.
Sunday 20th September, 1993 (The Great Hall – Dinner)
The Great Hall was dead silent, except for a few people who were still too panicked to stay quiet. The death-toll had risen to almost one hundred and fifty now, which had resulted in more and more students trying to contact their Families. Neville, on the other hand, had cried himself into a truly sorry state.
Both Harry and Hermione were trying to get him to say something, anything, but he just couldn't do it. He had spent the entire afternoon and evening mourning his parents, and now he was just too tired to do it. His entire face was blotchy and sore, and his eyes felt drier than a desert. All he wanted to do was to go to sleep, and hopefully, wake up to find out that this day had been a nightmare.
"Can I please have your attention?" Dumbledore spoke from the podium, and everyone looked to the Headmaster. He looked rather rugged, and his eyes weren't twinkling as they usually did. Instead, they looked heavy with exhaustion and sorrow. "Firstly, to all those who have been affected by this tragic occurrence, you have our combined condolences. This is truly a dark day… A dark day indeed. I have been told that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes are still investigating the fire that burned down St. Mungo's Hospital, and they have asked me to relay this message to you all. If you have any information regarding this incident, please send them an owl. This, of course, includes details of any persons that you suspect to have been at St. Mungo's last night."
"As of tomorrow morning, the school will be shutting down for two weeks," Dumbledore went on, and the students whispered and exchanged curious looks. "I know that many of you wish to be with your Families right now, which is why your respective Heads of Houses will take down your signatures tonight. If you wish to return to your homes tomorrow, please let your Heads of Houses know. Your Families will be contacted, and the Hogwarts Express will depart tomorrow after breakfast. Now please, continue with your meals." With that, Dumbledore walked back to his seat and sat down. The students went back to eating and whispering to each other, while Neville just stared at Dumbledore's tired expression. He himself isn't eating.
"Neville, are you going to sign up?" Hermione asked softly, and Neville looked back down at his empty plate.
"Yeah…" Neville croaked, his throat hurt from just speaking.
"Here," Hermione said as she handed him her glass of water. "Please drink something at least." Neville looked to her, and upon seeing her sorry expression, he took the glass and drank it down. The water felt heavenly as it slid down his dry throat, and Neville drank the whole thing in one go.
"We can both sign up together," Harry said, he was unsure on how to act right now. He wanted to give Neville a reassuring smile, but this was hardly the time to smile.
"You're signing up as well?" Hermione asked Harry, while Neville simply poured himself another glass of water. I'm so thirsty.
"I am," Harry sighed, and Hermione just stared at him for a few seconds. "What is it, Hermione?"
"Are you signing up simply because you want to see Sirius?" Hermione asked, and Harry drew in a deep breath. "Harry…"
"He was keeping Pettigrew alive for a reason, Hermione," Harry whispered, his suddenly guilty eyes darting towards Neville. I don't care. Do as you please. Neville drank down another glass, while his friends continued their conversation. "He is probably hurting right now, and I want to be there for him."
"I see," Hermione whispered back, and then she looked to Neville. "Do you want some soup, Neville?"
"No," Neville shook his head, at least his throat didn't hurt this time.
"You should eat something, mate," Harry said, but Neville simply shook his head again. I wonder how Gran is taking this. I bet that she's heartbroken. I need to be there for her. I need to go back home.
"What about some juice?" Hermione asked.
"I'm fine with water," Neville mumbled, his dead gaze fixed on his empty plate. "Please, I just feel like… I just want to go to sleep…"
"We can go up to Gryffindor Tower now," Hermione offered. "Some people are already leaving as well."
"What about the sign up?" Harry asked her.
"I'll sign it for him," Hermione said, and then she looked back to Neville. "Is that alright with you?"
"Thanks," Neville muttered, and she gave him a weak smile.
"Shall we go then?" Hermione asked, and Neville nodded weakly. All three of them stood up at that, and as they were walking past the Gryffindor table, they were joined by a fourth body.
"Neville, are you alright?" Ginny asked him, her eyes darting towards Harry and Hermione. She doesn't know about my parents.
"No," Neville replied as they exited the Great Hall. "My… My parents were at St. Mungo's…"
"Merlin," Ginny gasped, her eyes widening at him. "I… I had no idea, Neville… I'm so sorry…"
"Yeah," Neville sighed, he didn't know what else to say.
"Guys, wait up," came Ron's voice from behind them, and they all turned to see the red-haired Slytherin catching up to them. His eyes were fixed on Neville, and Neville couldn't help but remember Ron's conversation with his Gran. He knows about my parents, unlike the rest of his siblings. "Neville, mate… I'm so sorry about-" Ron's eyes darted towards Ginny, who was just staring at him.
"I just told her," Neville told him, and he nodded to himself.
"I'm really sorry about your parents," Ron said, his gloved hand giving Neville's left shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Are you signing up to go home tomorrow?"
"I am," Neville replied, his mind drifting towards his Gran.
"If I don't see you tomorrow, just know that I'm here for you," Ron said in a rather gentle voice. "Send my regards to your Grandmother."
"I will, Ron," Neville said tiredly, and Ron gave him a weak smile as he stepped back.
"We'll see you around, Ron," Harry said, and then he gently nudged Neville up the stairs. They parted ways with Ron at that, and as they were heading up the stairs, Ginny broke the silence.
"Your parents, Neville…" Ginny started, and he felt his gut tighten at the constant mentioning of them. "I'm really sorry. None of us had any idea… Us Weasleys, that is. I'm so sorry."
"Thanks," Neville sighed out, and he felt Harry put his arm around him, while Hermione grabbed his left hand. Gran's all alone at Longbottom Manor right now. I have to get back as soon as possible. She needs me to be by her side more than ever before.
Ronald Weasley's POV
Monday 21st September, 1993 (Boys' Dorm – Past Midnight)
While Blaise and Theo slept, Ron sat on his bed and stared at the Marauder's Map. The Heads of Houses were finally leaving Dumbledore's Office, all of them except for Snape, which didn't really surprise Ron. They were no doubt suspicious about the timing of recent events, much like Ron himself.
Ron swiftly moved off of his bed, and after he had cast the Disillusionment Charm on himself, he made his way out of the dorm. The moment he had seen Dumbledore back from Albania, he knew that he had to speak with him. St. Mungo's had been reduced to a smoldering ruin on the very day that the Dark Mark had been cut off, the very day that they had discussed the Dark Lord regathering his strength. If this was all a coincidence, then Ron would eat his favorite black suit.
In the end, he hadn't asked Daphne to be his significant other. Despite desperately wanting to, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. The whole school was in mourning, including a large amount of Slytherins. Daphne, Theo, and Millie had spent their day with the second years, one of whom was inconsolable because her father was a Healer at St. Mungo's. Ron thanked his lucky stars that none of his friends, or his first years, had lost anyone. But that could change at any moment because the death-toll was steadily increasing.
And then there was Ron's own mental state. He was constantly having stress moments because of the implications of this tragedy. The Dark Lord was connected to it somehow, he just bloody knew it. Not to mention just how insane it was that a Magical Hospital had been consumed by a fire started from their own Potions. Why hadn't anyone apparated out? Why hadn't anyone used the floo-network to escape? Why was it that in a building full of grown wizards and witches, not a single person could extinguish the flames?
These thoughts had turned Ron into a quiet, and rather jittery, individual. When he wasn't trying to be polite and considerate to his mourning House-mates, Ron was fidgeting with his hands and barely keeping his own panic at bay. Tracey and Pansy had been a Merlin-send during his day, mostly because they had seen his inability to control his stress. And instead of questioning him, they had simply comforted him in any way that they could. During their fifth hug, or kiss, Ron had realized that they too needed some comfort. All of the school was panicking about their Families, and the girls were no different. Until their parents wrote back, every student in the school was living in fear of losing someone that they loved dearly.
"Cherry Pops," Ron said to the Stone Gargoyle, and it slid aside for him. Ron quickly made his way up the spiral steps, and then he knocked on Dumbledore's door.
"Come in," came the Headmaster's voice, and Ron quickly stepped in and shut the door. "Ronald?"
"Hello," Ron greeted Dumbledore and Snape, his Disillusionment Charm shattering. "You came back early."
"I had to," Dumbledore sighed, while Ron walked up and took his seat.
"Please tell me that I'm not the only person who finds the timing of recent events awfully suspicious," Ron said, and both wizards nodded their agreement.
"It is no coincidence," Snape said firmly. "The Dark Lord often used fire as a way to mask his actions."
"Just take Albania's Forests as an example," Dumbledore added, the old man looked a century older than he was.
"But why would he burn down St. Mungo's Hospital of all places?" Ron asked.
"Tell him what you just told me, Albus," Snape said, and Ron noticed that the man was holding his left forearm with his right hand.
"When I fought him in Albania, he said something that stuck out to me," Dumbledore told Ron, who listened carefully. "He mentioned that he couldn't fully possess adults, he claimed that their matured minds and Magical Cores rejected him. But children were different… He could dominate their minds with much greater ease."
"Children?" Ron blinked, his stomach tightening from fear. "So when you fought him… He was possessing a child?"
"Yes," Dumbledore replied, and Ron's face paled.
"How… How old?" Ron managed. Does he really have no limits?
"Around eight," Dumbledore replied, his own face showing his… disappointment?
"Merlin," Snape massaged his forehead.
"Are you saying that he possessed a child at St. Mungo's?" Ron asked slowly.
"I did think that at first, but now I have a different theory," Dumbledore started. "Voldemort severing his connection with the Dark Mark is our greatest clue, and upon deliberating on it, I believe that his new host is an adult. One with a fully developed Magical Core. That is the only reason why he would need to sever his connection to the Dark Mark. He doesn't want people to know that he has regained much of his power."
"But he can't control his new host fully?" Ron asked, this whole possession business was horrifying. He fucking tried to possess me as well, but he didn't know that I was already possessed.
"I believe that he can," Dumbledore replied, and Ron swallowed thickly. Does that mean that he's back? "I believe that he found an adult with an empty mind at St. Mungo's, one that he didn't need to share his new body with. Only one person fits that description in my mind. Peter Pettigrew."
"Scabbers?" Ron asked, his eyes darting to Snape.
"It's possible that he found out about Pettigrew because of Rita Skeeter's article," Snape told him, and Ron nodded along dumbly. "And once he took control of the traitor's empty husk, his power grew considerably. Which is why he had to sever his connection to the Dark Mark, otherwise it would darken just like the old days. The Ministry would find out about his return because of the Death-Eaters in lockup, and he'd be facing a manhunt."
"So he's really back then?" Ron managed, and then he bent forward and breathed out heavily. Oh Merlin… It's happening… The war… It's really here… Ron's entire body tensed, and his mind immediately drifted to his friends and Family. I have to protect them. All of them.
"Ronald, breathe," Snape said, his hand patting Ron's back. "We knew that this day was coming. You knew that it was coming. This is not the time to panic."
"Severus is correct," Dumbledore said, his expression hardening. "Now is the time for action."
"Action?" Ron breathed out, his body moving back and sinking into his chair. "You mean it's time for war, don't you?"
"Voldemort took the Wizarding World by surprise during the last war," Dumbledore said, and Ron could do little but stare at the old wizard's changed demeanor. "That cannot happen again. We must be prepared this time." Dumbledore then matched the gazes of both Ron and Snape, his own gaze as hard as steel. "It's time to assemble the Old Guard."
"The Old Guard?" Ron asked, and then it hit him. "The Order of the Phoenix."
"Not just the Order," Dumbledore said. "We must gather all of our allies to us, and place them where we need them."
"And the Ministry?" Snape asked. "Albus, we cannot stand against him alone."
"I agree with that," Ron said quickly. "I've always advocated the decision to bring the Ministry in on this. They already have a massive workforce, and with their help, we can track that bastard down before he kills us all."
"We will bring the Ministry in on this, but only after we put Amelia Bones in power," Dumbledore told them. "Cornelius will never believe that the Dark Lord has returned, especially because it will mean the end of his career. People will blame him for the Dark Lord returning simply because he holds the title of Minister."
"Show him your memories then," Ron said. "From Albania, that is. You fought-"
"Memories can be altered with Magic," Snape informed Ron. "It's why they're not used in actual trials. Fudge will simply claim that Albus is 'making things up', or worse, trying to steal his job. This is a weak man, Ron. A truly weak man. Not to mention that Lucius has his ear, and will no doubt sabotage us along the way."
"Why is a damn 'former' Death-Eater even allowed into the Ministry?" Ron rubbed his face. "Wait… What are we going to do about Lucius Malfoy and Cornelius Nott? Those two are still searching for their Master, who is now back in action."
"For now, we can do nothing against them," Dumbledore replied, and Ron blinked at him. "Ronald… We cannot act without proof. And no, we can't just make two people 'disappear'. They are not only wealthy, but they hold a lot of sway within Wizarding Europe. People would go looking for them if they went missing, and now that Lord Voldemort is back, he'd figure out that we're taking down his old associates. Our knowledge about his new vessel is an advantage that we cannot afford to lose."
"I say that we tell the Order about his new body," Snape suggested. "We need people looking for him, and if they know 'who' to look for, that makes our jobs easier."
"There is no point in that just yet," Dumbledore shook his head. "You have forgotten about Voldemort's true power. His immortality."
"The Horcruxes," Ron sighed, he still needed to find this damn Locket.
"Until we destroy the Horcruxes, he himself cannot be destroyed," Dumbledore told them, and then he looked to Ron. "Ronald, I have come up with a plan. On Friday, I will invite the Old Guard here. While they are in my Office, you will use Severus' fireplace to floo into Grimmauld Place. Whilst Sirius is here, you will search his home for any clues relating to this Locket."
"What about his Elf?" Ron asked. "I've given it a lot of thought, and I'm not sure that I can take on an Elf. Their Magic works very differently from ours, and I've never faced one before."
"I can help you with that, just give me a few days," Snape said, and Ron nodded slowly. Just one more important thing.
"Um… About this Old Guard," Ron started, and both men looked to him. "Is it just the old members, or can anyone new join in?"
"Trust me, you're already a bona fide member of the Order," Snape told him, and Ron couldn't help but smile a little at that.
"Not me," Ron said, and then he looked to Dumbledore. "The Greengrasses…"
"I see," Dumbledore said, his hardened eyes fixed on Ron's. Merlin, he's actually quite intimidating.
"Lord Greengrass is the wealthiest man in Europe, and with his help, we'll be bloody well-funded," Ron told them. "And not just him, but also the Davis Family. Mr. Davis rejected the Dark Lord during the last war, and despite being imprisoned, he stayed faithful to his Muggle-Born wife."
"That is true," Snape confirmed. "I saw him spit on Rabastan Lestrange's face once."
"See," Ron smiled at Snape. "Headmaster, just give them a chance. Without your protection, a lot of people from Slytherin will be forced into servitude. Don't leave them out to dry like last time, I beg you."
"Severus?" Dumbledore looked to Snape, who nodded his agreement. "The risk of them spying on us for Lord Voldemort is quite high, you understand that right?"
"I'm not asking you to put the Slytherins in the inner circle, I'm just asking you to protect them," Ron said, he couldn't lose this debate. "We deserve a chance to be on the right side just as much as the other Houses. You keep telling me to do the right thing, and I'm telling you that this is the right thing. How many people were forced to join him last time? Don't give him any more soldiers simply because we are in the same House as he was."
"Give me time then, Ronald," Dumbledore agreed, and Ron smiled from sheer relief. "In the meantime, continue your work within Slytherin."
"My work?" Ron asked.
"Your study group is changing more things than even you seem to realize," Snape told him, and Ron just stared at him.
"I'm trying to help increase House Unity," Ron admitted, and Dumbledore smiled faintly. "With the war coming… No, with the war already here… We need to be united. Hogwarts was attacked in my very first vision, and if that happens again, I want us all standing together."
"Keep it up, my boy," Dumbledore smiled more fully, and Ron nodded firmly. I intend to.
"Do we have anything more to discuss?" Snape asked, and Ron couldn't really think of anything. "Then we should all retire for the night. I need to be awake at dawn in order to help with the Hogwarts Express, and you, Albus, look close to death."
"Sleep would be much appreciated," Dumbledore admitted, his tired eyes blinking slowly. "Let's just recount what we need to do. I need to contact the Old Guard, and somehow tell them about the Dark Lord's 'possible' return."
"And the new members?" Ron asked.
"I will get to them soon," Dumbledore assured Ron. "The old members will more readily believe my words, and I have complete faith in them. Please, give me time to contact the Greengrass and Davis Families. We need to vet them first."
"Fine," Ron agreed, at least they were still going to be invited.
"Severus, have you managed to contact Lucius yet?" Dumbledore asked, and the Potions Master shook his head.
"I managed to contact his wife, Narcissa," Snape replied. "Lucius and Cornelius are on the move, and they did not tell her about their latest adventure. For now, they are out of my reach."
"That is unfortunate," Dumbledore sighed, and then he looked to Ron. "Prepare yourself for Friday, dear boy. I will buy you as much time as I can."
"I won't fail us, I promise," Ron nodded firmly, and Dumbledore gave him a kind smile in return. "What about Amelia Bones?"
"Until she has dealt with this catastrophe, I cannot meet with her," Dumbledore replied. "She is already overworked due to the Albania situation, and with this added on top, she has no time for me. She will need to wait for now."
"Fair enough," Ron nodded. "I'll also make sure that The Quibbler is coming along."
"Very well," Dumbledore nodded, and both Snape and Ron stood up. "Goodnight, my friends."
"Goodnight, Headmaster," Ron said back, while Snape simply walked over to the fireplace. Ron quickly joined him, and they both flooed back to Snape's Office.
"Wait here for a moment," Snape told him, and then he walked over to his desk. Snape then pulled out three vials of his Calming Tonic, and he handed them to Ron.
"What are these for?" Ron asked him, and Snape stared into his eyes.
"There is no time for fear and panic now," Snape whispered in his cold voice, and Ron nodded slowly. "Do not abuse these, understood?"
"Yes, Sir," Ron replied, and then he began to leave. I'll save them for my venture into Grimmauld Place. Or in case I have a panic attack.
"Ronald, what you said about the Slytherins…" Snape said suddenly, and Ron turned to face him. "You did well." Ron blinked at the man, who was simply watching him with an expressionless face. Ron then simply nodded, and he left the Office in order to head back to his room. The school is shut down for the next two weeks, and I'm going to spend every single day working on my training. I need to be ready, now more than ever.
Harry Potter's POV
Monday 21st September, 1993 (Platform 9¾ - Evening)
Harry stepped off of the train first, and then he helped Neville pull out their luggage. Hedwig hooted loudly as her cage was rattled, and Harry shot his bird a sorry look. Once both boys were off of the train, they began to move towards the center of the Platform. All around them, their fellow students were rushing into their parents' arm, many of whom were visibly upset about St. Mungo's fate. Harry figured that all of them had lost someone in the accident, no matter how distant the relation. This in turn made him think of Sirius, who was no doubt mourning 'friend'.
"Neville, there's your Gran," Harry pointed out, and Neville's head perked up for the first time since yesterday. As soon as he saw her, Neville went straight for her.
"Gran!" Neville called, and she quickly spotted her grandson. Harry couldn't help but notice the poorly applied makeup, and the traces of running mascara on her face.
"Neville," Augusta managed, and then she was holding her grandson as tightly as she could.
"They're gone," Neville croaked over her shoulder, while she rubbed his back lovingly.
"Hush, my boy," Augusta comforted him, while Harry simply hovered in the background. "My brave boy… Everything will be alright…" Neville sniffled loudly as he clung to her, and Harry noticed that he was taller than her now. It was an odd observation to make, and Harry figured that he had made it simply because he felt out of place at the moment.
"I'll be on my way then," Harry piped up, and Augusta Longbottom looked to him from over Neville's shoulder. "Sirius is probably looking for me."
"Of course," August said. "Thank you for being by Neville's side today, Harry." Harry gave her a nod, and then he looked to Neville's back.
"I'll make sure to visit," Harry told Neville.
"Be certain that you do," Augusta replied for her grandson, who was crying all over her shoulder.
"Alright, take care," Harry said, and then he began searching for Sirius. It was difficult to concentrate because of the emotional state of everyone, and despite wanting to ignore it, Harry couldn't help but listen to the heartbroken cries of his school-mates and their parents. Roughly a third of the school was here, whilst the rest were staying behind until school recommenced.
"Harry! Over here!" came a familiar voice, and Harry turned to see Molly Weasley waving at him. What's she doing here? None of the Weasley siblings signed up to come home.
"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," Harry greeted her, and then he walked over to her. "Um… I don't think that any of your children signed up to come home."
"I know, I'm here to collect you," she told him, and Harry blinked at her.
"What about Sirius?" Harry asked.
"He's… He's very busy right now, so I volunteered to come pick you up," Molly told him, and Harry couldn't help but feel disappointed at that. "Come along, I'll take you to The Burrow."
"The Burrow?" Harry asked as he began following her.
"Sirius is staying with us for now," Molly informed him, and he nodded slowly. "My husband and I didn't feel right leaving him to… to grieve… by himself. Sirius accepted almost immediately, I don't think that he wants to be alone either."
"He won't be now that I'm here," Harry said, and Molly shot him a motherly smile.
"Good," she said as they reached the fireplaces. "You remember how to use the floo-network, don't you?"
"Yes, Mrs. Weasley," Harry replied, and she gestured him to go first. Harry took a pinch of floo powder, and then he stepped up to the fire. "The Burrow!" Harry called, and then he tossed the floo-powder into the fire. Once it blazed green, Harry stepped through with his luggage in tow. As soon as he stepped into the Burrow's Living Room, he was greeted by the sight of Sirius' body.
"Siri-" Harry started, but he stopped immediately. His Godfather was passed out on the couch, and judging from the open bottle of 'Fire Whiskey' on the coffee table, he was clearly in a drunken stupor. The fireplace suddenly roared from behind him, and Molly Weasley entered her Living Room.
"No…" she muttered under her breath, but Harry heard her clearly enough. He then turned to face her, and she looked extremely awkward for a second. And then, she adorned a motherly smile once again. "Harry dear, why don't we head into the Kitchen?"
"Sure," Harry nodded weakly, and as they were heading out of the Living Room, his eyes darted back towards Sirius.
"Mr. Potter," came Xenophilius Lovegood's voice, and Harry noticed that both Lovegoods were sitting at the Dining Table.
"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Lovegood," Harry greeted them, and they both smiled at him. "How are you?"
"We are well, Mr. Potter," Pandora Lovegood replied, and Harry couldn't help but notice how similar Luna was to her mother. "And please, you can just call us by our names."
"Alright," Harry nodded. "Then you can just call me Harry." The Lovegoods just smiled at him, and Harry wondered why all the Lovegoods were so… aloof.
"Harry, why don't you go up and have a quick shower?" Molly suggested. "I'll move your things into Ron's room, which is where you'll be staying until you head back to Hogwarts." Ron's room? Something clicked in his mind, and Harry nodded his agreement. "Go on then, dinner will be in a couple of hours. Just leave your things here, dear."
"Thanks," Harry smiled at her, and she patted his left cheek. Harry then made his way up the stairs, but he stopped once he was out of sight.
"I asked you to move him," he heard Molly Weasley's voice.
"I tried to, but he started snarling at me," came Xenophilius Lovegood's voice. "Molly, he took a swing at me…"
"Poor Harry…" Molly Weasley sighed out. "Seeing his Godfather in such a state…"
"I think he'll be fine," came Pandora Lovegood's airy voice. "Have you looked into his eyes? He's a strong young man."
The adults began whispering to each other, and Harry did his best to listen in. But sadly, he couldn't really make out their words from the top of the stairs. So instead of waiting around to get caught, he headed up towards the bathroom.
Monday 21st September, 1993 (The Burrow – Dinnertime)
"Here you are," Molly said as she put a plate filled with food in front of Sirius, who looked like hell. "Eat all of that, it'll help with your headache."
"Thanks," Sirius mumbled, while Molly quickly began making Harry a plate. Sirius looked towards the bottle of wine on the table, and then back at his food, and then back at the wine. Sirius then grabbed the bottle of wine and filled up his glass again, while the other adults just watched him quietly.
"Here you go, dear," Molly said as she planted his plate in front of him, and Harry swallowed thickly. That's enough food to feed an army. "None of that today, Harry. You look like a skeleton with skin… You eat all of that, understood?"
"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Harry managed to give her a smile, and she nodded firmly before taking her own seat by her husband's side.
"It's like they don't feed our children at Hogwarts," Molly Weasley huffed, and Harry couldn't help but appreciate her 'outrage'. He quite liked the Weasleys, and that included Ron. When he's not acting suspicious, that is. Which, incidentally, is always.
"How is school, Harry?" Arthur asked, he had only just returned from work.
"Um… It's quite boring to be honest," Harry replied, and Sirius let out an approving grunt.
"And Remus?" Arthur asked, and Harry's eyes darted towards Sirius involuntarily. His Godfather was just drinking his wine, and Harry couldn't help but notice just how awful Sirius smelled right now. "How is being a Professor treating him?"
"He's actually amazing at it," Harry replied, and the adults looked rather pleased to hear that. "Except he's sort of… shaken… lately…"
"Shaken?" Pandora asked, and Harry noticed Sirius' ears perking up.
"The Daily Prophet article called him a thug, and Hermione reckons that his confidence got hurt by it," Harry replied, and Sirius drank down his entire glass in one go. Maybe I shouldn't have said that. Sirius then reached for the bottle again, while Harry turned his attention to his own food. The air of awkwardness was filling up the Kitchen, and even Harry could tell that the other adults didn't approve of Sirius drinking himself to death at the dinner table.
"Rita Skeeter," Molly grimaced. "Disgusting shrew… She had no right to do that to Remus, or Sirius." Harry nodded his agreement, and they all settled into an awkward silence. After five or so minutes of awkwardly eating their food, and drinking in Sirius' case, Molly Weasley finally broke the silence.
"How are the other children at school?" Molly asked Harry, who looked up from his food. "I imagine that a lot of them are hurting right now. Poor souls…"
"A lot of them are," Harry confirmed, his mind drifting towards Neville. "Nev is in a lot of pain right now…"
"Of course," Arthur nodded, while Sirius rubbed his forehead.
"Alice and Frank," Sirius sighed out, and then he drank down his entire glass. "Completely forgot about them…"
"You were in the Order of the Phoenix together, right?" Harry asked Sirius, who blinked at him. But then he remembered that Skeeter had told the entire Wizarding World about his role in the Order.
"They were good friends of mine," Sirius managed, and then he reached for the bottle again.
"Sirius, maybe you should eat your food instead?" Arthur suggested, and Sirius let out a tired breath as he put his hands up in mock surrender.
"Sure, dad…" Sirius grumbled, while Harry felt rather tense because of the room's atmosphere. The other adults seemed to notice this, and they shot Harry weak smiles of comfort.
"You should spend as much time with Neville as you can," Xenophilius said suddenly, and Harry looked to him. "A friend with open ears can be the greatest healing salve in times of turmoil." Right.
"Invite him here whenever you want, Harry," Molly said, and Harry nodded.
"Thank you, but I reckon I'll just visit him," Harry said. "I don't think that he wants to leave his Gran by herself."
"Augusta Longbottom," Arthur sighed out. "Now there is a woman who's lost far too much."
"We should send her an invitation, Arthur," Molly suggested, and her husband slowly nodded. "Ronnie is an Eternal Friend of the Longbottom Family, isn't he? Then that makes our Families allies. Right, Sirius?"
"Yeah…" Sirius replied, and Molly was glad that she still had a grasp on the Old Ways. It had been far too long since she had even thought about them.
"Harry, could you please pass on our invitation to her?" Molly asked, and Harry nodded. But deep down, he really didn't want to. A part of him hated that Ron had this absurd claim to hold over Neville. Eternal Friends? What a load of rubbish. It's just a way for Ron to control Neville if he wants to, and judging by his mentality, it's only a matter of time before he starts abusing it.
"Have you seen Ron around the school lately?" Pandora asked, and everyone looked to Harry. What?
"I have," Harry replied slowly.
"How is he?" Pandora asked, while Molly seemed to lean forward in her seat. Shady. Condescending. Manipulative.
"He's doing alright," Harry replied, and they all waited for him to go on. "Um… I don't really see him that much. He's always with the Slytherins, you know…"
"What about Ginny?" Molly asked. "Is she really fighting with Ron?" Ugh…
"They seem to be at odds lately," Harry replied truthfully, and Molly Weasley exchanged a look with her husband. "It's something to do with Ron abusing the Dark Arts." The whole table went dead silent at that, and even Sirius looked up from his plate. Harry himself had no idea why he had said that, but for some reason, he felt that it was the right thing to do. Ron's kind and loving Family deserved to know that Ron wasn't like them, and that he was obliviously placed in Slytherin for a reason.
"Abusing the Dark Arts?" Sirius asked, and Harry felt his gut tighten from anger. He hasn't asked me a single thing all night, but the moment Ron is brought up, he starts talking.
"At the Dueling Club," Harry started. "Ron used the same Dark Spell against me that he did last year… The ghostly serpent Curse, or whatever it is. He used it to beat me in our Duel. Ginny was really angry about that, and it sparked a fight between them."
"And he wasn't disqualified for using the Dark Arts?" Arthur asked, he had lost the color in his face.
"From what I understand about actual Dueling Tournaments," Pandora started, she too looked quite put off by this news. "The only Curses that aren't allowed are the Unforgivables. Everything else is fair game."
"And all Curses are technically classified as the Dark Arts," Xeno added.
"That sounds like an excuse," Molly said, her shoulders slumping down in defeat. I think I stepped on a landmine here. "I'm sorry that Ronald did that to you, Harry. Again…"
"It's alright," Harry said quickly, he wasn't really that angry about losing to Ron. But that was mostly because he had come to terms with the fact that Ron was perfectly alright with abusing Dark Magic as long as it served his ambitions. Harry only wished that Ron's own Family could see that, it would save them a lot of disappointment and hurt.
"What about his other matches?" Sirius asked, and once again, Harry felt his blood boil. What about my other matches?! "Did he use the Dark Arts in them as well? Remus wouldn't have allowed that."
"No, he didn't use the Dark Arts in them," Harry replied coldly, and Sirius blinked at him. "Though he did break Seamus Finnegan's nose out of anger."
"Merlin…" Molly Weasley muttered, her head bowing down.
"It took both Pomfrey and Snape to fix up Seamus' face after Ron was done with him," Harry told them. "But in all honesty, I reckon Seamus deserved to be hit."
"Why do you say that?" Xeno asked.
"He broke the rules and threw an Explosive Curse at Ron," Harry replied, he had no intention of distorting the facts. "Ron barely managed to block it in time, but when Seamus wasn't disqualified for cheating, Ron took things into his own hands."
"Violence isn't what I taught him," Molly whispered, but everyone heard her. Speaking of violence…
"I don't know if you've heard," Harry started, and they looked back to him. "But Ron actually killed a Boggart in our D.A.D.A class."
"What?" they all asked, and then they looked to each other.
"He blew it into pieces right in front of everyone…" Harry said slowly, they really hadn't heard about that? "Remus didn't tell you?"
"Arthur…" Molly Weasley said weakly, completely ignoring Harry's question. "He's killed another living thing…"
"Harry, tell us what happened," Arthur said, he looked more anguished than anyone else on the table. Xeno and Pandora had just gone dead silent, while Sirius was probably wondering why Remus hadn't sent an owl about this.
"He used something called 'Occlumency' to do it," Harry explained, though he really didn't understand what Ron had been talking about when they had questioned him.
"Occlumency?" Pandora asked, her usually calm demeanor shattering. "Ron? An Occlumens? And one strong enough to destroy a Boggart with his mind alone?"
"I guess," Harry replied slowly, and all the adults looked utterly shocked. "Is Occlumency really that special? I don't really understand what it is. Hermione mentioned that it was Magic used to protect one's mind from outside influences."
"Occlumency is one the most difficult branches of Magic," Pandora replied, though she looked to be speaking to herself. "It takes years to fully master, and only truly powerful wizards can use it effectively. Are you sure that it was Occlumency?"
"That's what he said," Harry replied, he could see that they were just as impressed as they were horrified.
"I… I need… I need a moment," Molly Weasley croaked, and then she got up and walked over to her sink in order to wash her pans. Harry looked to the other adults, all of whom were still too shocked to say anything. Looks like Ron doesn't tell them much either. What's wrong with him? How could someone like him ever come from a Family like the Weasleys?
Tuesday 22nd September, 1993 (Ron's Room – Past Midnight)
Dinner had turned into a disaster after Harry had revealed the truth about Ron's activities at school, and despite feeling immense guilt for putting the Weasleys and Lovegoods in distress, Harry knew that he had done the right thing. They deserved to know these things about Ron, especially because they all seemed to put him on a golden pedestal.
For the life of him, he couldn't understand why Ron was so selfish. Ron was born into a loving Family, he had been blessed with amazing siblings, and he had parents who loved him unconditionally. Ron had been granted Harry's deepest desire without ever lifting a finger, and it angered Harry to no end whenever he saw Ron treat his Family as an afterthought.
It was clear to Harry that Ron's siblings feared angering him, all of them except for Ginny. Ginny was the only person in Ron's Family that refused to let Ron run rampant, and Harry couldn't help but respect her for it. People like Ron, people who lied and manipulated others, needed to be held accountable. What was really the difference between Ron and the other Slytherins? Most of them bullied members of the other Houses with petty insults, while some of them went as far as to hate people for simply being born. And although Ron clearly stood against the bigotry of 'Blood-Status', he seemed to enjoy his imagined power a bit too much. The fact that he had six lackeys following him around constantly was proof of that.
Truth be told, Harry was secretly glad that Hermione was starting to get sick of Ronald Weasley. A small part of him was just happy that Hermione was no longer comparing Neville and him against Ron, and then telling her own best friends to be better. He was glad that Hermione was no longer believing every word out of Ron's mouth, and that she was genuinely questioning his character. After his assault on Finnegan, Hermione had finally been pushed too far. She had realized, just as Harry had, that Ron was a cruel beast if he didn't get his way.
Harry still couldn't look past the fact that Ron had stolen Hermione's study group idea, and that he had the audacity to go around saying that it was 'his' study group. Everyone in the school, including the Professors, just loved that Ron was so 'inclusive'. But Harry knew the real truth. Ron enjoyed people dancing to his tune, so much so that he constantly lied and told people what they wanted to hear. Hermione was beginning to see that as well, and Harry couldn't be happier. She deserved better than him.
Harry just needed Neville to come around now, and then he could work together with his best friends to bring Ron's true character to light. Neville, being noble-hearted as he was, refused to act against Ron because of his Gran's actions. She had named Ron an 'Eternal Friend' to the Longbottom Family, and because of that, Neville couldn't move against Ron without dishonoring his Family. It was clear to Harry that this Pure-Blood nonsense was nothing but a hindrance, but he didn't want to fight with Neville about it again. Harry knew that, sooner or later, Neville would see Ron for what he really was all by himself. Just like he did last year.
Harry hopped out of Ron's bed, and then he turned on the room's light. He immediately frowned at the Emerald Green walls, which if Harry was being honest, were an eyesore when paired with the rest of the Burrow. They just didn't fit in with the Burrow's design, which was fair enough because Ron didn't fit in with his Family's image in Harry's mind. I'm not surprised that he's turned this room green, he clearly enjoys the extra attention.
Harry then began enacting his plan, which was to scour the room for any clues into why Ron was the way he was. He looked under the bed, the bedside table, the mattress, and then went through Ron's clothing drawer. He was surprised to find such worn-out clothes in there, mostly because he only ever saw Ron in expensive clothes. Except for first year, he used to dress like a normal person back then. Now he struts about in his insanely expensive suits, all the while wearing that weird glove on his hand.
Harry then looked inside the cupboard, and once he spotted an old looking trunk in there, something in his mind clicked. He had that back in first year. Harry quickly pulled the trunk out, and once it was resting by his feet, he undid the latches. Something had to be in here, some clue that would answer at least one of the millions of questions that he had about Ron. And much to his excitement, the contents of the trunk were extremely suspicious.
There were ruined clothes inside, and once Harry had moved them out of the way, he found himself staring at the destroyed belongings. His eyes settled on the burnt books first, and he slowly picked them up in order to inspect them. Some of these are… journals? Damn, this is all unsalvageable. Harry then picked up the largest book, and after squinting his eyes, he managed to make out one word on the cover. Curses? Harry put the book back quickly, this was clearly a book on the Dark Arts. Why are all of these burned? Did he burn them after using them? Maybe he was trying to cover his tracks. Studying the Dark Arts can get you expelled from Hogwarts, after all.
Harry then looked to the broken pen and the shattered Chess board, but what really caught his attention was the sliced up white sweater which had a large green 'R' in the center of it. A Weasley sweater. All of Ron's siblings have different colored ones, their mum knits them for Christmas. Why would Ron destroy his? No… No, I don't think that he would. But then again, he did have a massive falling out with his Family last year when they tried to Re-Sort him. That's what the twins told me, anyway. Maybe he destroyed his sweater in a fit of rage? Harry frowned at the contents of the trunk, now he had more questions than before.
He packed the trunk up and put it back inside the cupboard, and then he walked over to Ron's study table. Drawer by drawer, Harry made his way down to the one at the very bottom. Along the way, he found old toys and trinkets, and one Chudley Cannons Badge which Ron had kept in perfect condition. All of it was uninteresting, but when he opened the last drawer, Harry's eyes gleamed. There was a large white envelope inside, and it was labeled as 'Ronald Weasley's MRI Photos'. MRI photos? Isn't MRI that Muggle medical exam? No, that can't be it. Ron doesn't really know anything about Muggles, nor does his Family for that matter.
Harry opened the unsealed envelope, and then he pulled out multiple black and white photos. As he examined them, he realized that he had no bloody idea what he was looking at. One of the photos' white parts were extremely white, while the others didn't have that issue. The ones with the visible white parts were also too confusing to understand, just what the hell was he looking at here? What are those black spots inside the white parts? Is… Is this Ron's brain? The white parts looked like a brain, only it was hard to tell because the photos seemed to have been taken from the top down. I think that these are showing his brain, but I can't be sure. This is so weird.
Harry suddenly heard a floorboard creak from outside, and he immediately packed the photos back into the envelope. He then placed the envelope back inside the drawer before quickly running back to Ron's bed. As Harry looked around to make sure that everything was in order, which it was, the door swung open.
"Harry, why are you awake?" Sirius asked as he stepped into the room, and Harry felt his heart beating hard against his chest. That was too close.
"Couldn't sleep," Harry lied quickly, and Sirius nodded slowly. "I was um… I was thinking about Neville… Yeah…"
"I see," Sirius managed a weak smiled, and then he closed the door behind himself.
"Why are you awake?" Harry asked, and Sirius shrugged as he sat down to Harry's right. He smells better now, at least. I think he's had a shower, but I can still smell cigarette smoke on him.
"Couldn't sleep," Sirius copied Harry's words. "I just went out to have a smoke, and I noticed that your light was on. Seriously, how is Neville? And don't hold back."
"He… He's a mess," Harry sighed out, and Sirius looked down at the ground. "When he first found out, he didn't even say a damn word about it. He was just quiet… But then, he suddenly broke down. Sirius, he cried so much… He was in so much pain, and I couldn't do a thing to help him. He kept saying that he'd never get to see them again, and I just couldn't figure out what to say. Even Hermione was just… useless… We were both so useless…"
"As long as you two were there by his side, you weren't useless," Sirius said, his left arm wrapping around Harry. "That poor kid… His parents were always too far to reach, and now they're completely gone… And Augusta, she's lost them all over again."
"I'm going there tomorrow," Harry told him. "Why don't you come with?"
"I'd love to, Harry," Sirius said. "But I need to make arrangements for…" he trailed off.
"For Pettigrew?" Harry asked, and Sirius drew in a deep breath. "You want to give him a proper burial? Even after everything he did?"
"Does that make you angry?" Sirius asked, and Harry knew the answer to that.
"It does," Harry admitted. "But… He was your friend once… So I understand why you're doing this. I don't like it, but if it helps you move on, then I think you should do it. I didn't like seeing you drinking like that during dinner…" I just wish that I got to see Pettigrew at least once.
"Yeah, I didn't like it either," Sirius smiled weakly, and then he pulled Harry into his side. "When did you get so mature, huh?"
"Someone has to be mature between us," Harry chuckled weakly, and then he hugged Sirius' side. Harry couldn't even begin to describe how good it felt to hug Sirius like this, he imagined that hugging one's father felt the same.
"When I was your age, Harry," Sirius started, and Harry knew what was coming. "I was anything but mature. I had just learned that a pretty girl's kiss could wash away my troubles, and that if I played with my-"
"Please stop," Harry pleaded, and Sirius let out his first true laugh since the article.
"I'm only teasing you, kid," Sirius said, and then he kissed the top of Harry's head. "You didn't tell me how your Duels went. Mind sharing a few stories?" Harry beamed to himself, and then he nodded eagerly.
Draco Malfoy's POV
Tuesday 22nd September, 1993 (The Great Hall – Lunchtime)
"You should eat up, Malfoy," Crabbe growled at him, and he simply stared at his jailer. "We have Quidditch Practice right after this, and if you don't do as we say, we'll bash you." We? You mean Flint will bash me, while you get your cheap hits in when he allows you to. Draco looked back down at his food, and then he started eating. "That's what I thought." Shut up, you fat tosser.
Every day was the same now. He'd wake up, get treated like dog-shite by everyone who spoke to him, and then he'd occasionally cry himself to sleep. It was odd how quickly a person became used to their situations, and despite not wanting to, he wondered if he had made anyone feel like this. Draco was no fool, he could see the similarities between himself and Flint. He knew that he hadn't been a very 'friendly' individual, especially to the people that he disliked. But none of that mattered anymore.
He had barely spoken in weeks, and whenever he did, it was usually when Flint was tormenting him. Flint, who Draco had in his back pocket last year, was now controlling his entire life. Flint, who apparently didn't care about his own grades, was forcing Draco to practice nonstop. Flint, who was becoming increasingly more violent, was Draco's only real fear now. Every time Draco saw the Troll-faced seventh year, he began trembling with anxiety and fear.
In his misery, Draco had started thinking of a strategy to get himself away from Flint and his gang. First, he had begged his Godfather for help. All he had wanted was for his room to be changed, but Snape had denied him even that. Then, Draco had turned to the Triumvirate for help. He had shown them his bruises, and they hadn't even batted an eye. Instead, they had told Flint about it for their own amusement, and Draco was kicked around by Flint's entire gang while they had watched with smug smiles. According to the Triumvirate, he had disrespected them constantly last year, and this was his punishment.
That's when he had realized that he had no one on his side. Not his Godfather, not the Triumvirate, and not his old friends. He was truly alone, which meant that this would never stop. Not until he figured something out, not until he used his mind to outfox Flint. That's when he had started hiding in Hogwarts' North Wing in-between meal-times. That's when he had started practicing his Dueling skills, which by the way, had netted him four out of five wins and secured his position in Rank C. The only person he had lost to was Padma Patil, but from that defeat, he had learned the value of learning more Spells to boost his arsenal.
He had thought of turning to his old friends for help, of course, but he knew that that would never happen. They had all moved on from him, just like Crabbe and Goyle. They too had found a new leader, just like Crabbe and Goyle. Ronald Weasley, who in Draco's opinion, was a younger and smarter version of Flint. Weasley understood that his size and prowess were extremely intimidating, but he was also wise enough to understand that having friends was more beneficial than having lackeys. That was a method of thinking that Draco desperately wished that he had adhered to. Draco, like Flint, had depended far too much on fear and intimidation.
In a rather disturbing sort of way, Draco could even respect Weasley's ingenuity. He was a thug who was treated as a Boy-Wonder. He had the respect of the older students, the admiration of the younger ones, and the ears of the Professors. Weasley walked around the castle as if he was a king, and no one could claim that he hadn't earned that. Even Draco couldn't disagree anymore, not after some of his realizations about his own shortcomings. Draco should've just shaken Weasley's fucking hand back in first year, because if he had, then he wouldn't be stuck in this situation right now. Too little too late now… It's rather amusing how being miserable can make you realize just how powerless you really are.
"Marcus is leaving for the Pitch," Goyle suddenly said, his mouth full of pork and gravy. "Let's go, Malfoy."
"Get up," Crabbe sneered at him, and Malfoy slowly got out of his chair. He knew what was going to happen after this practice session. They're going to beat me like a dog for not being fast enough. Again. I just need to make sure that I protect my head this time. Pomfrey isn't here to heal my concussion like last time. And I rather doubt that a teacher won't question me after I tell them that I fell down that blasted Moving Staircase.
Wednesday 23rd September, 1993 (Northern Courtyard – Midday)
His back was on fire, but he knew that he couldn't go to Professor Sprout for help. She had taken over Madam Pomfrey's Hospital Wing because the Matron herself was currently helping the Ministry in identifying the missing people from the St. Mungo's incident. The death-toll was now just over two hundred and thirty people, which wasn't surprising because the Hospital was quite massive.
But Draco didn't care about some Hospital fire, he knew for a fact that both his parents were safe. Right now, his only problem was his back. He had failed to catch the Golden Snitch in time, again, but this time, Flint hadn't waited to assault him in the locker room. The Troll-faced bastard had smashed a Bludger into Draco's back mid-flight, which had resulted in Draco crashing rather painfully. Flint had realized that he had taken things too far, and in order to protect himself, he had forbidden Draco from talking to anyone about it. And although Draco hated himself for it, he was too afraid of Flint to defy him.
"So it's really true?" came a girl's voice, and Draco's head shot up. A tall Ravenclaw student was standing in front of him, and by the looks of her, she was either a sixth year or a seventh year. "I heard rumors that a snake had invaded the sacred garden, but I didn't really believe them."
"A snake invading the gardens?" Draco cocked his eyebrow as he put his book down, and she flashed him a smile.
"It's from the-"
"Christian Bible, I know," Draco said, Muggle religion was something that his father constantly spat upon. How Muggles believe that tripe is beyond me, but then again, they are an idiotic lot.
"A Pure-Blood who knows about Muggle religions," the Ravenclaw chuckled, her thick brown hair bobbing up and down. "They told me that you were the worst of the lot, but I'm actually quite impressed right now."
"They?" Draco sneered. "Wait… Let me guess… You're another Mud-Blood? If so, piss off. I don't speak to your ilk." Filthy thief.
"I'm a Half-Blood," the Ravenclaw told him, and Draco looked back up. "My mother was a Muggle, and once she learned that my father was a wizard, she ran out on us."
"Your father is a Pure-Blood?" Draco asked, and she nodded. "And he mated with a Muggle?"
"That's generally how marriage works," she giggled.
"Right…" Draco said slowly.
"Don't worry, we both despise Muggles now," the Ravenclaw assured him, and Draco gave her an approving nod. "They are a weak-minded lot, and betrayal is in their blood. My father has learned his lesson, and so have I."
"What's your name?" Draco asked her.
"Gertrude Swans," she introduced herself, and then she gave him a respectful curtsy. Draco stood up at that, and his face tightened as pain shot up his back.
"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," he introduced himself, and when she offered him her hand, he took it and kissed her knuckles.
"Are you feeling alright, Draco?" Gertrude asked him, and Malfoy blinked at her.
"I'm fine," he lied.
"Your expression just then would suggest otherwise," Gertrude said, her smile slowly dying. "Look… I don't want to play a game of cat and mouse with you…"
"Excuse me?" Draco asked, taking a step away from her.
"I started seeing Marcus Flint at the start of the year," she told him, and Draco's eyes widened. Oh no… Shite, I need to leave. Draco quickly picked up his book, and he began to leave. But Gertrude stepped in his way with a panicked look. "Please, just hear me out here."
"Leave me alone," Draco hissed, but she grabbed onto his left arm. She's going to tell him where I've been hiding. Merlin damn her!
"He told me that he was done being a thug," she said quickly, and Draco blinked at her. What did she say? "When he asked me out, he told me that he was done with his old ways. I accepted, and we started dating. And as far as I know, he's really stopped targeting people." She has no idea that the Triumvirate have him tied down, which is one of the reasons why they let him assault me. I'm his free pass.
"This has nothing to do with me," Draco said, but her hold simply tightened.
"But it does," she said quickly. "I've… I've heard that he's been hurting you…"
"Who told you something so stupid?" Draco demanded, his panic rising. He'll blame me for this. If she breaks up with him, he'll kill me!
"One of my girlfriends was at the Quidditch Pitch yesterday, and she saw what he did to you," Gertrude replied, and Draco's blood froze. "It's why you've been hiding out here, isn't it? He's hurting you, isn't he?" He could hear the anger in her voice, and judging by her expression, she looked ready to burst into tears. "Please, you have to tell me…"
"He isn't doing anything to me," Draco lied, and she shook her head. "Listen to me, I don't want to be involved in your bloody love life. Flint isn't hurting me, and you're starting to annoy me. Leave me alone." Gertrude nodded weakly, and then she let go of his arm. Draco fixed his robes into place, and then he went to leave again.
"We can help you," she told him, and he stopped. "The Ravenclaws… I'm a seventh year prefect, and if I ask my House-mates for help, then we can keep him away from you." Draco slowly turned back to face her, and he noticed that she was clearing her eyes. "You couldn't even stand up properly, so I know that he hurt you. My friend was right, I know it."
"I… I don't know what you're talking about," Draco managed, he starting to get tempted. I can be free of him. If she's telling the truth about her fellow Ravenclaws, then I can be free again. No! Don't be an idiot! The moment she dumps him because of me, he'll find me. "Please… Just stop it… I don't… I don't want to be involved in this…"
"You're scared," she stated, and all he could do was stare at her. "That's alright… It's alright to be scared. But if you let me, then I can help you."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because he lied to me," she replied, her anger showing on her face. "He's made a fool out of me… He tricked me into sleeping with him… He hasn't changed one bit, and you're living proof of that. Let me help you, and then, you can help me."
"Help you?" Draco whispered, his hold on his book tightening. He could feel hope rising in his chest, this was clearly his way out. I could outfox him, and then be out of his reach until he graduates.
"He's made a fool out of me, and I want to return the favor," she replied. "Draco, tell me the truth." He just stared at her for a few seconds, and then he swallowed thickly.
"I still have to sleep in my dorm," Draco told her. "How will your Ravenclaws help me then?"
"This entire Wing is unused," she replied, and Draco nodded slowly. "It's mostly used by the older students when they want privacy. We could order you a bed and set it up in one of the classrooms. I know Wards that can keep intruders out, and I'll teach you. He won't be able to lay a finger on you again." Snape would never approve, but then again, he's abandoned me completely. If he wants to complain, then that's his problem.
"He hasn't changed," Draco told her, and her eyes began to water. "He's just forbidden from losing Slytherin House Points, and so he target only me. He's been lying to you." She sniffled and nodded, and then she walked up to him.
"Show me," she whispered, and he blinked at her. She then unfastened his robes, while he just stood there with a creeping blush. And then, she pulled his robes over his head. "Take off your shirt… I know how to heal injuries…"
"You'll heal my back?" he managed, his voice cracking slightly.
"Yes," she nodded tiredly. "Take off your shirt, Draco." He dropped his book on the ground, and then he began undoing his shirt. He couldn't help but feel extremely embarrassed, he knew that he was far too skinny, but his back was killing him. Once his shirt was off, he turned his back to her. She drew in a sharp breath, no doubt seeing the massive bruise in-between his shoulder blades had jarred her. Draco suddenly felt her hand caress his back, and his face began to heat up. A girl is touching me without my shirt on. Don't show any weakness, Draco. You are a Malfoy.
"Are you ready?" she asked him, and he nodded firmly. And that's when she punched his bruise as hard as she could, and Draco screamed in agony as he fell forward. FUCK! Fucking fuck! It hurts! "I told you that he'd talk, Marcus!" Draco's pain was immediately forgotten, and he looked up to see Marcus and his gang come out of hiding. No… No, no, no, no… Please Merlin, help me! Draco tried to stand up, but Flint ran up and grabbed him by his head.
"Please… Please…" Draco started begging, but Flint slammed him back into the ground. Draco mewled pathetically, his entire back felt like it was on fire.
"Little bitch!" Flint spat out. "You sold us out! I just lost five Galleons because of you!"
"Pay up, love," Gertrude giggled, her smug smile fixed on her boyfriend. Flint reached into his pocket, and he handed her five Galleons. "Thank you." Flint gave her a nod, and then he reached down and grabbed Draco's long hair.
"You fucking cunt," Flint hissed, while Draco started crying his eyes out. Not again… It's just like with the Triumvirate… I'm so stupid… I'm so fucking stupid…
"Wow," Gertrude frowned down at him, and he met her gaze through his wet eyes.
"W… Why?" he managed, and she simply shrugged.
"Marcus was boasting about how he'd broken you, and I wagered that I could make you turn on him," she replied casually. "Stop crying, Malfoy… You're spoiling my victory here."
"You really have no fucking balls, do you?" Flint sneered, and then he pushed Draco's head into the grass.
"Please… My back… I think she really… I think she's hurt me…" Draco sobbed, he had never felt so much pain in his life before.
"Yeah?" Flint asked, and then the large boy kicked his bruise. Draco's mouth flew open to scream, but no sound came out.
"There, that's better," Gertrude smirked as she put her wand back into her robes. "Don't worry about hurting him too badly, I volunteer at the Hospital Wing. I'll make him right as rain once you're all through, I promise."
Thursday 24th September, 1993 (Abandoned Classroom on the Third Floor – Evening)
This was his last hope, his one last attempt at finding safety within Hogwarts. If this failed, then he was going to owl his parents and ask them to relocate him to Durmstrang. Personally, he knew that this strategy was probably going to fail, but he had to try it. He was a Malfoy, and he couldn't let that bastard and his whore cast him out of his Ancestral school. Mother and Father both studied here, as did my forefathers. I have to honor them, or I'll never be able to look Father in the eyes again. The door suddenly creaked open, and Draco stood up straight.
"Thanks for coming, Blaise," Draco managed a weak smile, but Blaise simply shut the door behind himself with a suspicious look.
"What do you want?" Blaise demanded. "You have one minute, Malfoy. After that, I'm gone."
"I need your help," Draco started, and Blaise cocked an eyebrow at him. "Flint… Marcus Flint, that is… He's been assaulting me all year. No one really knows-"
"We know," Blaise told him, and Draco blinked at his former best friend.
"Right…" Draco swallowed thickly. Of course they know, they're not stupid. Every single person in Slytherin knows by now. "Blaise… I need your help with him…"
"Piss off," Blaise sneered at him, and then he turned to leave. NO! No, please don't leave!
"Blaise, please!" Draco ran up and grabbed the other boy's arm, but Blaise shoved him away easily. "Please… Please, I'm begging you… I have no one left to turn to… His girlfriend, she's a skilled Healer… He doesn't have to hold back on me anymore… Please…"
"Stop it," Blaise snapped, and Draco barely managed to stop himself. His eyes were already beginning to leak, which didn't really surprise him. He was just so fucking scared… "Why should I help you, huh? You dumb bastard… I begged you all of first year to join us, and you spat in my bloody face. You threw Theo's dead mother in his… Go fuck yourself."
"You owe me!" Draco yelled out as Blaise was opening the door, and after Blaise heard him, he slowly shut the door again. "You… You owe me, Blaise…"
"What?" Blaise asked as he turned around, there was genuine hurt on his face now. "You-"
"I pulled you off of the streets, and I housed you," Draco said as he cleared his eyes, he had to be strong right now. "You owe me a debt, Blaise."
"You…" Blaise started, but then his mouth just hung open. Draco could see just how much damage he had done to Blaise with his words, but right now, his survival meant a lot more to him than Blaise's feelings. "You promised me that you'd never throw that in my face… That you would never use that against me."
"We were friends then," Draco pointed out, but Blaise scoffed in response. "We were!"
"You treated us like dirt," Blaise reminded him. "Millie, she barely ever spoke… The first time you met Tracey, you actually wiped your hand 'clean' after touching her by mistake. I mean, that was the first time that we'd all met her, and you brought her to tears by constantly targeting her 'pedigree'. And we all know that you were referring to her as a dog." I really did that?
"We were kids," Draco argued.
"Were you a 'kid' last year?" Blaise asked him. "You beat Ron into a bloody pulp, you started targeting us constantly, you strutted around the school when the Heir petrified Ron, and you called Daphne a whore… I could go on for hours."
"I've made mistakes, I know that," Draco said, but Blaise didn't believe him for a second. "I know that I've burned a lot of bridges, but Blaise… I can't change the past. I'm not a God-"
"No, you just think you are," Blaise grimaced.
"Please," Draco said, and then he drew in a deep breath. "You're my only chance of surviving this school year. Flint's gone mental, and I'm scared. You have to help me… You must. You owe me a debt, Blaise… And I'm calling it in."
"How the fuck am I supposed to help you?!" Blaise suddenly yelled, he knew where this was going. He knew that he was about to lose his own friends.
"I need someone to watch my back," Draco replied, and Blaise's face tightened from anger. "If you have any honor in your Family, then you'll pay me back."
"You… You fucking…" Blaise grit out, but then, all of a sudden, he gave Draco a pleading look. "Don't do this to me… Don't bloody do this, Draco…"
"I don't have a choice," Draco mumbled, and Blaise looked around the room in a panic. "It'll be alright. We'll figure something out together. I just… I need someone in the House to watch my back."
"You're just trying to drag me down with you," Blaise bit out as he massaged his temples. "Don't do this to me…"
"I… I don't a choice," Draco repeated, and Blaise could do little but stare at him. "I need your help, and you have to help me."
Albus Dumbledore's POV
Friday 25th September, 1993 (Dumbledore's Office – After Breakfast)
"The floo-network is open," Minerva said, and Albus gave her a grateful smile. "Albus… Why now?"
"We cannot be caught off-guard," Albus replied, and Minerva nodded slowly. "Not this time." Not in this Cycle.
"If you're bringing the Order back together," Filius started, while Pomona fed Fawkes. "Then that means that he's… That he's back." Albus gave them all a slow nod, and their faces paled considerably. "Not again…"
"What about the children of this school?" Pomona asked weakly, she didn't want to see anymore dead children.
"We will protect them," Albus told his three latest Order members, he knew that he had to invite them because of their knowledge on Horcruxes. "We will protect them all." The fireplace suddenly roared to life, and Albus stood up to greet his guests. Aberforth stepped through the fire, and Albus' chest tightened at the sight of him. "Hello, brother."
"Why did you call me here?" Aberforth demanded, and then he glared at Fawkes. "I told you that I didn't want your damn bird showing up at my tavern."
"Fawkes was just delivering letters to the Order members," Albus told his younger brother, who blinked at him.
"So your note wasn't a trick," Aberforth realized. "That must be new for you." Before Albus could reply, the fireplace roared to life and Sirius stepped through.
"Welcome-" Dumbledore started, but he stopped when the Weasleys and Lovegoods came through after Sirius. "I see that you decided to bring friends, Sirius."
"Dumbledore," all four of them greeted, and he gave them a welcoming nod.
"I figured that they deserved to be here," Sirius replied, and Dumbledore nodded his agreement. I was going to approach them myself, but it's good that they're here now. "Aberforth! You old goat!"
"Black," Aberforth frowned, and Sirius grinned at him.
"I'm surprised that you're still kicking around," Sirius chuckled.
"I could say the same about you," Aberforth shot back. "How was your vacation?" Why does he have to be like this?
"Terrible," Sirius replied, his grin dying down a bit. "No room service…" The fireplace blazed to life again, and this time, five people stepped through. Alastor Moody, Emmeline Vance, Elphias Doge, Dedalus Diggle, and Sturgis Podmore.
"Albus," Elphias smiled at his old friend, and a genuine smile broke out on Albus' face as he walked down to shake his old friend's hand.
"Elphias, it is good to see you again," Albus said, and then he looked to the others. "Welcome, my old friends."
"Why are we here?" Alastor demanded as he limped to the closest corner, and then his Magical eye settled on the Lovegoods. "Why is there a pregnant woman here?"
"You must be 'Mad-eye' Moody," Pandora smiled at the grizzled man, while her husband looked quite nervous.
"And what if I am?" Alastor growled, while the older members of the Order simply shook their heads. He hasn't changed a bit. Good. I need the greatest Auror in History.
"That eye of yours is fascinating," Pandora hummed. "Mind if I have a look at it?"
"Yes," Alastor bit out, and then he frowned at Albus. "What's this about then?"
"So grouchy," Dedalus chuckled, and Alastor glared at him.
"You're still dressing like a damn moron, I see," Alastor said harshly, but Dedalus simply laughed it off.
"Purple has always been my color," Dedalus remarked, tipping his massive purple top-hat.
"It does match you, my old friend," Emmeline smiled, her usual green shawl wrapped around her. "It's been too long since we all got together like this, hasn't it?"
"That it has," Elphias nodded fervently.
"Sir, why are we here?" Sturgis asked, and then he looked around the room. "Are you really bringing the Order back?" Everyone looked to Albus at that, and he nodded firmly.
"It's time," Albus told them, and they all knew what this meant. But before they could say anything, the fireplace roared to life once again. Hagrid stepped through it in a rather odd manner, while everyone else moved away from the fireplace.
"Sorry, Headmas'er," Hagrid said, and then he stepped aside to reveal Arabella Figg. "I broke her door down by mistake…"
"You!" Sirius suddenly yelled, and Arabella jumped from fright. Sirius then glared at Albus, and Albus let out a tired sigh. "You told me that she was watching over Harry, right?" Sirius then glared at her, and she shrunk in size. "What the fuck were you doing when they were hurting my Godson?!"
"Sirius," Hagrid frowned as he moved in-between the two of them. "Have yeh no shame? Speakin' to an old woman, like that?" Hagrid then quickly apologized to her, and all she could do was to give a weak nod. "What's gotten into yeh?"
"She was supposed to watch over him," Sirius growled, his animalistic nature coming through. "They hurt him every single day, and she did NOTHING!"
"Sirius, old chap, calm yourself," Dedalus said, but Sirius began snarling at him.
"Stop growling you mutt, or I'll shut you up myself," Alastor warned him, and Sirius let out a cold laugh.
"You want to lose your other eye as well? Is that it?" Sirius challenged, and Alastor stood up to his full height.
"Sirius, enough of this," Arthur said as he stepped between the two wizards. "You're amongst friends here. Stop trying to start a fight with everyone."
"Mr. Black, that is enough," Minerva said in her scolding voice, and Sirius blinked at her. He then shot an angry glare in Arabella's direction, but he didn't make another sound. The door to Albus' Office suddenly opened, and both Remus and Severus stepped through.
"Oh…" Remus muttered, he looked incredibly weak. The full moon is nearly here. Albus then looked to Severus, who gave him a subtle nod. Good luck, Ronald. Please be safe.
"We are all here," Albus announced, and they all exchanged looks. "My friends-"
"What's he doing here?" Sirius asked, his eyes narrowing on Snape.
"I got lost," Snape drawled, and Sirius frowned at him.
"Sirius," Remus said, and Sirius gave his old companion a weakened look. "Headmaster, please continue."
"I have grave news," Albus told them, it was time to truly begin his plan. "The day that we all feared… It's finally here. Lord Voldemort has returned."
"Gods…" Arthur Weasley muttered, while his wife clung to his side. Albus could see the fear on everyone's face, except for Alastor and Severus, who were both just grimacing.
"How is this possible?" Emmeline asked. "There have been no signs whatsoever."
"I'd beg to differ, my Lady," Sturgis said in his usual polite manner. "This fire at St. Mungo's… Was that his doing?" Sharp as always.
"Is that why the Ministry hasn't made a statement yet?" Elphias asked Albus.
"Fudge is still in bloody Albania," Dedalus told them. "I saw him whilst I was volunteering there just two days ago. It's Amelia Bones who's spearheading the investigation right now, and I'm certain that Fudge has forbidden her from making a statement."
"Do you have proof?" Xeno asked Albus. "How do you know that he's back? Did you face him once again?" We both did.
"Severus," Albus called, and the Potions Master pulled his left sleeve back. Every eye was immediately fixed on his bare forearm, even Alastor had limped up to look over the man's shoulder.
"It's dead?" Alastor asked, his normal eye traveling to Albus while his Magical Eye stayed fixed on the faded Dark Mark. "There's no Magic coursing through it."
"He severed his connection to it on Saturday," Snape told everyone. "And that very night, St. Mungo's burned down."
"Why didn't you bloody tell anyone then?" Sirius glared at him in disgust.
"I told the Headmaster immediately," Snape sneered at him. "Just listen, convict… You'll love this next bit." Sirius blinked at that, and then he looked to Albus. I have to tell them about Peter Pettigrew, they need to know who to flee from.
"He has found himself a body in which to reside, that's how he's returned," Albus told them all, and over half of them paled. "I believe that this body had a perfectly developed Magical Core, but no soul to reject his possession. Peter Pettigrew."
"What?" Sirius went wide-eyed, while a majority of the room looked to him with seething rage. "I… I… It can't be…" Sirius had lost all the blood in his face, and his body had tensed horribly. Albus spotted Snape smirking cruelly at Sirius, and Albus couldn't help but feel disappointed with his right hand man.
"Peter… He's possessing Peter?" Remus asked, both Marauders exchanging disturbed looks.
"You bloody idiot," Aberforth glared at Sirius, and both Arthur and Remus pulled Sirius behind them.
"The enemy is not in here, he is out there," Albus said firmly, his expression hardening just like the old days. "Make no mistake, my friends. We stand on the edge of another Great War, and fighting amongst ourselves will only aid the enemy." Enough of this childish bickering.
"I knew that this fire made no sense," Sturgis breathed out. "Not one person managed to escape it, or stop it. Now it all makes sense…"
"The Dark Lord must've learned of Pettigrew's body because of Rita Skeeter's article," Elphias said, and mostly everyone nodded. "That hag has doomed us all!"
"The Ministry needs to be alerted, Albus," Emmeline said.
"What will they do about it?" Dedalus asked, his cheery demeanor gone. "Nothing. Fudge is a clown, one that will never believe us."
"I say that we kill his Death-Eaters in lockup," Alastor said, making sure that everyone heard him.
"Right, because murder charges are just what we bloody need," Aberforth scoffed.
"Killin' people in lockup," Hagrid shook his head at Alastor. "That's just plain murder, that is."
"No one is murdering anyone," Albus told them. "But we do need to start watching his old associates without arousing suspicion. Alastor, do you still have your contacts in the Aurors Department?"
"I do," Alastor nodded. "I can already name a handful of people that would be willing to join us at a moment's notice."
"Get in touch with these people," Albus ordered. "I want eyes on Azkaban Prison, Lord Voldemort cannot be allowed to free his Death-Eaters."
"What about the ones walking the streets?" Filius piped in. "People like the Malfoys, Nott Snr, the Greengrasses-"
"Sebastian Greengrass is not…" Arthur started fiercely, but he stopped when everyone looked to him. Arthur then looked to Albus, and for a moment, Albus thought that he was looking at Ronald. "I've spoken with Sebastian Greengrass, and he did not join the Dark Lord out of his free-will. He was forced into service when his wife was kidnapped by the Dark Lord's forces."
"I'm sure that's what he tells everyone," Alastor growled. "I saw him take down three Aurors before Scrimgeour brought him down. And trust me, he wasn't throwing out stunners."
"Three bloody Aurors?" Sirius whispered to Remus, but everyone heard him.
"His wife was the only reason why we were able to de-Petrify our students last year," Pomona told everyone. "She saved four children's lives."
"Please tell me that we're not talking about recruiting that degenerate," Alastor snapped, and everyone looked to Albus.
"Right now, we need to get our eyes and ears out there," Albus told them. But eventually, I intend to. His wealth is an asset that we cannot hand over to Tom.
"And Harry Potter?" Minerva asked, which earned her approving grunts and whispers. "Where does Mr. Potter fit into all of this? If He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is truly back, then Mr. Potter must be protected at all costs."
"He's with Augusta Longbottom right now," Sirius told everyone, he still looked utterly shaken from the knowledge about Peter Pettigrew.
"Good, then he's safe," Dedalus nodded in approval. "That old witch would eat You-Know-Who alive if he ever trespassed on her property."
"Speaking of properties," Pandora piped in. "Should we start using the Fidelius Charm on our homes from now on? I've read that that's what you all did during the Great War."
"I agree with her," Sturgis seconded her. "We all have people that we need to keep safe."
"Please, conjure up a seat," Albus told them all. "We'll be here for a while." I need to make sure of it.
Friday 25th September, 1993 (Dumbledore's Office – Mid Afternoon)
"Do any of you have any questions about your jobs?" Albus asked them, and none of them said anything. "Very well, then our meeting is adjourned." Alastor was the first to head out, and after saying his address with the Muffling Charm in place, he flooed away. Aberforth left after that, followed promptly by Emmeline, Sturgis, Elphias, Dedalus, Hagrid, and Arabella. This left behind Severus, the Weasleys, the Lovegoods, Sirius, Remus, Minerva, Filius, and Pomona.
"Dumbledore, might we have a few minutes of your time?" Arthur asked, and Albus nodded with his usual kind smile.
"Speak your mind, please," Albus replied, and Arthur looked to Remus.
"Harry mentioned that Ron killed a Boggart in your class… And we just want some more details about that," Arthur said to Remus, and both Remus and Albus tensed a bit. Not this again.
"Ronald did not kill the Boggart," Albus told them. "It destroyed itself in an effort to morph into Ronald's greatest fear. Remus told me that it kept morphing into different things frantically, and until eventually, it tore itself apart."
"Why didn't you send an owl, Remus?" Molly asked. "Why did Harry have to tell us about this?"
"Remus has to ask for my permission before discussing any student's school life with adults that are not hired by the school," Albus told them, and Remus nodded slowly. He didn't know that, did he? Why didn't he send an owl then? "Unless, of course, the student in question gives Remus permission themselves."
"Ron is truly an Occlumens then?" Pandora asked.
"He is learning to be one," Albus started, he had thought this through. "When I tested his defenses, I found them to be quite impressive for someone his age. But his will to resist… Now that is something that I have never witnessed before. Truly remarkable, that boy."
"Will to resist?" Xeno asked, while both Arthur and Molly were clearly trying to hide their pride.
"Willpower, in essence," Albus replied, and Pandora Lovegood seemed to have come to a realization.
"His wand," Pandora said, and everyone looked to her. "Its flexibility was Unyielding." Convenient, but very intriguing.
"As I just said, Ronald has an astounding amount of willpower," Albus told them, and they all nodded slowly. "I got past his shields, of course, but it was hard to see his memories because he refused to give up control."
"Giving up control is something that he really does struggle with," Molly said softly, a dejected look marking her features.
"There is a difference between giving up control and being controlled," Snape said suddenly, and everyone just stared at him. Now is not the time to make new enemies, Severus.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Molly asked the Potions Master. "You think that I'm trying to control my own son?"
"Mollywobbles, please," Arthur said pleadingly, while Sirius glared murder at Snape.
"The Dark Lord has returned," Snape said. "Are you planning on Re-Sorting my student once again?" Both Arthur and Molly exchanged looks, and then they looked to Albus.
"I don't feel comfortable with him being alone down there," Arthur started, and Snape rolled his eyes.
"Severus, stop it," Pomona scolded the man, and then she grabbed his arm. "Headmaster, we must really be on our way." With that, she dragged Snape out of the Office. Minerva and Filius followed after them, while Albus kept his focus on Ronald's Family.
"During the last war, Slytherin was a prime source of the Dark Lord's recruits," Arthur started.
"It won't be this time," Albus cut in. "This time, we will do better."
"But what if one of them decides to hurt Ronnie?" Molly asked desperately. "He's just a boy." Truth be told, I'm more afraid of him hurting 'them'.
"And he's been becoming more… aggressive… lately," Pandora pointed out. "He yelled in my husband's-"
"It was my own fault," Xeno said for the hundredth time. "I nearly cost him over ten thousand Galleons, not to mention that he had to go to France just to clean up my mess."
"That doesn't give him the right to yell at an adult," Molly said quickly. "He needs to act his age, and that's that." I beg to differ. Ronald is truly incapable of acting his own age, the monster inside his head has seen to that. "And now we find out that he shattered some poor boy's face over a Duel?"
"Things tend to get heated during these sorts of events," Remus replied weakly, and Sirius rubbed the man's back. They were both clearly still shaken from the news about their old friend.
"Remus, you look horrible," Sirius whispered, and Remus let out a weak chuckle. "I'm serious, you need to go lie down or something."
"I recommend that as well," Albus said, and Remus nodded weakly. "Sirius, please escort Remus to the Hospital Wing."
"Um… Gladly," Sirius muttered, he wanted to talk to Remus alone anyway. The two men then left the Office, while Albus mentally patted his own back for keeping Sirius out of Grimmauld Place for longer. I can think of little else but Ronald's mission right now.
"Is Ron still seeing Pomfrey?" Arthur asked.
"He is, but he couldn't this week," Albus replied. "Poppy is helping with the St. Mungo's catastrophe."
"Are his sessions going well?" Molly asked.
"I do not have the answer to that," Albus replied truthfully. "Ronald's anger is indeed worrying, but truth be told, Ronald tries to be the best he can be. That's what truly matters. Did you know that Ronald hosts a study group at the Library every Friday? It has become quite popular, and all the younger years attend it. Every House studying together with no in-fighting, or House Rivalry. He sits with the first years, all of the first years, and he teaches them. He is quite respected, and adored, by them."
"That does sooth my heart," Pandora admitted, she couldn't help but smile proudly at hearing that.
"Perhaps it's time that you all look to his better nature, instead of solely focusing on his shortcomings," Albus said, and they looked quite taken aback by his forwardness. "As you said, Molly… He is just a boy. Let him find his own way. As for his Housing situation, Severus will watch over him. I promise."
Ronald Weasley's POV
Friday 25th September, 1993 (Slytherin Common Room – After Breakfast)
"Right, I'm heading off then," Ron said to his friends, and all of them wished him well except for Blaise. What's the matter with him? He's barely said a word since yesterday. "Blaise, are you sure that you're alright?"
"Yeah…" Blaise all but whispered, his eyes fixed on his book. "Good luck with the Goblins…" Right. Ron looked to the rest of his friends, who were all eyeing Blaise with worry and confusion.
"Daph, can I have a word with you outside?" Ron asked, while he signaled Pansy to speak with Blaise. Pansy gave him a subtle nod, while Daphne began following him out. Once they were both out of the common room, Ron turned to face her. "Have you ever seen him like this? I know that he's the quiet sort, but he didn't even eat last night or this morning."
"Something's bothering him," Daphne agreed, and Ron drew in a deep breath. Fuck me, I'm so bloody nervous about today, and now something's clearly gotten to Blaise. Hopefully Pansy can figure it out before I come back. If I come back. "Ron, are you alright? You've been just as quiet as Blaise."
"Oh, I'm fine," Ron replied. "Just nervous about my advertisement campaign. You know, because of this whole St. Mungo's business…"
"It'll work out, Ron," Daphne smiled reassuringly, and Ron held out his gloved hand. She took it with both of hers, something that Ron rather liked.
"I'm sorry that I've been a bit withdrawn lately," Ron apologized, and she gave him a curious look. "We haven't really spent much time together since Saturday night, and it's because I'm always training up in the Sanctuary." Which, by the way, is really paying off, even if I can't get the Baubillious Charm to work Wandlessly. But at least I can now perform Incendio's Wandless variation now.
"You know what's funny?" Daphne asked with a genuine smile. "I was going to apologize to you for always being with the second years."
"You're finally getting through to them, so I understand completely," Ron smiled back.
"It's all thanks to Millie, if I'm being honest," Daphne hummed. "They're scared of her, and so they're turning to Theo and me. As long as they keep us happy, Millie doesn't give them her 'murderous stare'. I guess I won't be needing your services anymore, Ron."
"I still get paid though, right?" Ron joked, and Daphne shook her head with a smile. "Damn. Well, now that we've both apologized, I'd best be off. I'll see you soon."
"Good luck," Daphne said, but Ron kept holding her hands in his gloved one. "Planning to drag me to Gringotts with you?"
"Um… Can I get one of your good luck kisses?" Ron asked, and she let out a cute giggle. "Please?"
"Of course, bring your head down here," Daphne smiled, and once Ron had done as he was told, she gave him a rather long kiss. "There, now you'll definitely succeed."
"Thanks," Ron smiled, and then he realized something. "We just kissed right in front of the common room entrance… That was risky…"
"You're right," Daphne blinked, and then she shot quick looks around them. "I think we're getting a little too lax with our secret." Merlin, why haven't I asked her out yet? I should've just done it on Saturday night, before St. Mungo's burned down. Now we've barely spent a moment alone together, and everyone in the school is so depressed. And it just feels wrong to think about dating with so much going wrong at once. "Earth to Ron? Are you there?"
"Huh?" Ron blinked, and she gave him scolding smile.
"You'll do fine, Ron," Daphne said firmly, her smile still in place. "Don't stress too much please, not when you know that it doesn't help you."
"Yeah, you're right," Ron nodded, and then he let go of her hands. "I'll see you when I come back."
"We'll be up in the Sanctuary," Daphne waved goodbye as they began parting ways, and while Daphne went back into the common room, Ron headed for Snape's Office. This is it. Time to find this Locket, or at least find clues that can lead me to it. Ron stopped in front of Snape's Office, and then he knocked on the door.
"Come in," came Snape's voice, and Ron quickly entered the room and shut the door behind himself. "Finally. The Order members are probably already here. What took you so long?" Ron went to answer, but Snape raised his hand to stop him. "Never mind, I don't care." Arsehole.
"Have you got something to help me with the Elf?" Ron asked, and Snape pulled a thick leather collar out of his desk drawer. "I knew you were into the dirty fetishes…"
"Silence," Snape hissed, while Ron sniggered to himself. "Take this seriously, Weasley. You will be in grave danger, and if you're not careful, you'll end up dead. You're hunting down a piece of the Dark Lord's very soul, do you understand?"
"Trust me, I do," Ron sighed out. "I am scared, believe me. Jokes just help me cope with my stress, that's all. Pomfrey told me to have a more… positive… outlook on my problems…"
"Right," Snape said coldly, and then he walked over to Ron. "This is a Slaver's Collar, which are used to nullify a House-Elf's Magic. All you have to do is to put it around the Elf's neck, and it will latch onto him. After that, the Elf won't be able to do anything."
"This is rather… grotesque, isn't it?" Ron asked as he took the collar, it was heavier than it looked. Ron then fit the collar into his inner coat pocket, while Snape walked over to the fireplace. "Do you have a connection open to Sirius' home?"
"No, but I do have one open to the Leaky Cauldron," Snape told him. "Go there first, and then floo to Grimmauld Place."
"Got it," Ron nodded, and then he took a pinch of floo-powder. As he was about to cast it into the fire, Snape put his hand on Ron's right shoulder. "Sir?"
"Be careful, Ron," Snape said, his voice completely emotionless. "If anything goes wrong, forget the Locket and come back immediately. Understand?"
"I understand," Ron managed a weak smile, and then he cast the powder into the fire. "The Leaky Cauldron." Once the fire blazed green, Ron stepped through it.
The smell and sight of the pub hit him immediately, and he looked around to find a lot of people drinking with dejected looks. People start drinking this early? Wait… Ron noticed that there was a number on top of the bar, and he recognized it immediately. Two hundred and three. That's how many people are confirmed dead since this morning. Just seeing that number disheartened him too, his thoughts drifting to all the innocent people who had done nothing to deserve their horrible ends. He'll pay. The Order will make him pay for each and every life that he's ever taken.
"Twelve Grimmauld Place," Ron said as he tossed floo-powder into the same fire place, and once it blazed green, Ron stepped through it. As he stepped into Grimmauld Place's Living Room, Ron absentmindedly checked to make sure that he had his wand on his person. Right, everything is set. "Sirius?! Harry?! Anybody home?!" C'mon, Kreacher… You repulsive little bastard. Show yourself.
When nothing happed, Ron began to make his way upstairs. Maybe he's out running errands? If so, I should investigate Regulus' room first. Ron made his way to the topmost floor of Grimmauld Place, where both Sirius and Regulus' rooms were. It wasn't hard to determine which room belonged to who, mostly because Regulus' room had a rather pretentious sign hanging off of it. Do Not Enter Without The Express Permission Of Regulus Arcturus Black. Wow… This is something that Percy would genuinely admire. Ron opened the door and made his way inside.
The room wasn't as big as he'd imagined it, but the Slytherin green and silver was there. The Black Family Crest hung over Regulus' old bed, and Ron eyed the old, yellow newspaper clippings stuck to the wall beneath the Crest. Ron walked up to them in order to study them, and much to his disgust, they were all about the Dark Lord. He made a fucking collage to the Dark Lord over his bed? Disgusting cunt. Ron read the newspaper clipping which detailed the burning down of several Muggle villages, and beneath it, Regulus had scribbled the word 'Powerful'.
"What a tosser," Ron shook his head, and then he began searching the clean room. Ron, of course, found it rather odd that this room was so clean, especially because its owner had been dead for over a decade. Sirius probably ordered Kreacher to keep this room clean. Or, Kreacher does it because he wants to. From what Snape told me, the Elf was clearly very loyal to Regulus. After ten minutes of searching every single corner, Ron let out a tired sigh.
"There's nothing in here…" Ron frowned to himself, and then he brandished his wand. "Accio Locket!" Nothing happened, and Ron put his wand back into his coat. "Yeah, it's never that easy… I need to find the Elf, he might be able to help me." Ron left the room in perfect condition, and once the door was closed behind him, he made his way downstairs. As he was nearing the stairs that would lead him down to the ground floor, an angry hiss came from behind him.
"Filthy Blood-Traitor!" Kreacher hissed, and Ron quickly turned to face him. "Trying to steal the Black Family's belongings?!"
"Ease up there," Ron frowned at the ugly old thing. "I just wanted to see Sirius and Harry, that's all."
"Liar!" Kreacher yelled in his bullfrog-like voice. "Kreacher knows a sneakthief-"
"I'm no thief," Ron frowned, his temper flaring. "And don't call me a Blood-Traitor again… slave." Kreacher blinked at him, no doubt remembering that Ron had smacked him senseless the last time he had fired insults at the tall boy. "Are Sirius and Harry here?" Kreacher glared at Ron for a few moments, while Ron just stared at him coldly.
"No," Kreacher finally croaked, and Ron nodded to himself.
"Then I'll be on my way," Ron lied. "Mind escorting me to the fireplace?"
"Gladly," Kreacher growled, and then he began making his way past Ron. As soon as Kreacher's back was facing Ron, Ron pulled out the Slaver's Collar and put it around Kreacher's neck. The Elf tried to jump away from Ron, but the Collar Magically sealed itself around his neck. Yes! Kreacher turned around with a wild look on his wrinkled face, and Ron flinched when the Elf snapped his fingers loudly. But nothing happened. "Kreacher does not-" Kreacher started, his eyes fixed on his Magicless fingers. "A Slaver's Collar…"
"Uh-oh," Ron smirked at the Elf, who suddenly let out angry scream at Ron.
"What is the meaning of this?! FILTHY BLOOD-TRAI-" Kreacher's yelling was cut off when Ron smashed his fist into Kreacher's face, and the old Elf landed on his arse with his limbs spread out.
"Come here, you little shite," Ron hissed as he walked up and grabbed Kreacher by the throat, and then he began dragging the Elf down the stairs. Kreacher tried to struggle against Ron's ever-tightening grip, but he was far too dazed to put up any real resistance. "Let's have ourselves a chat, eh? If you behave, I might even let you keep your teeth."
Five Minutes Later
Ron had gripped Kreacher's throat a little too tightly, and in doing so, knocked the Elf out. But instead of panicking over it, he had used Kreacher's current state to his advantage. By using the Incarcerous Spell, he had bound and gagged Kreacher to a chair in the Kitchen. It was time to wake the Elf up in order to begin the interrogation.
"Rennervate," Ron chanted, and after the bright red light had dimmed, he placed his wand on the table.
"MMM!" Kreacher moaned as soon as he woke up, but when his large, sunken eyes landed on Ron, he started glaring at the redhead.
"Good morning," Ron 'smiled' at the Elf, who simply kept glaring. "Sorry about punching you in the head, but in my defense, I did warn you to mind your tongue. I healed the bruise, by the way." Ron then sat down in a chair across from Kreacher, their eyes clashing.
"For the time being, I'll let you stay gagged," Ron told the Elf, whose face tightened from anger. "There's a few things that I want to say, and I know that if you interrupt me while I speak, I'll end up clocking you again. So to avoid unnecessary violence, just be patient and hear me out.
"Now… Let's start with this," Ron leaned forward. "I don't like you. As a matter of fact, no one really likes you. You're rude, lazy, and rather barmy. Not to mention that you hurl out slurs at anything that moves. The first time I had the displeasure of meeting you, you called my father a Blood-Traitor to his face. And don't think that I've forgotten what you call Hermione. I know for a fact that if you had your way, we'd all be dead by tomorrow."
"All of this means one thing," Ron went on. "If you don't help me, I'll kill you. I'll put an end to your miserable existence, and I won't lose a minute's worth of sleep over it. Am I clear?" Kreacher just glared at Ron, who stared back coldly. "Am. I. Clear?" Kreacher nodded slowly, and Ron drew in a deep breath. "Now I'm going to ungag you, so don't start screaming. Don't make me do something that you'll regret." Ron then reached forward and undid the rope binging Kreacher's mouth, and the Elf coughed loudly. "Do you need some water?"
"Not from a Blood-Trai-" Kreacher started, but he stopped when Ron pulled his fist back. Piece of shite.
"Don't," Ron warned him, and Kreacher shut his mouth.
"No water," Kreacher hissed as he shot Ron a murderous glare, and Ron lowered his fist. "Master Sirius will hear of this…"
"No, he won't," Ron scoffed. "By the end of this conversation, I'll make sure of that."
"Nasty brat plans to murder Kreacher?" Kreacher demanded, and Ron shook his head.
"Killing you is not part of my agenda," Ron replied truthfully. "But don't think for a second that I won't if you piss me off."
"Nasty brat is cruel…" Kreacher croaked in his guttural voice.
"That's rich coming from you," Ron shot back. "How many Muggles and Muggle-Borns have you tortured and killed?" Kreacher's eyes widened at that, and Ron smirked at him. "Yeah… I know what you are. I know what you've done. I know that Regulus Black had you do his dirty work because he himself was too weak to do it."
"Master Regulus was not weak!" Kreacher screamed as he began to squirm in his binds. "Never weak! Master Regulus was never weak!"
"Shut up!" Ron snapped, his brow furrowing. "I told you not to scream, didn't I?"
"Nasty brat spits on Master Regulus' name… Kreacher will destroy the nasty brat once this Collar is off!" Kreacher yelled, and Ron slapped him across the face.
"Yell again, and I'll clap you again," Ron told Kreacher, whose head was now wobbling from side to side. Shite, I need to watch my strength here. The last thing that I need is this bastard's scrawny neck snapping.
"Master Regulus was never weak…" Kreacher kept mumbling under his breath, his head bowing down.
"You're very loyal to a dead man," Ron pointed out, and Kreacher glared up at him through teary eyes. "Very loyal. Tell me, why are you so loyal to Regulus? Why do you treat Sirius so horribly in comparison?"
"Master Sirius broke my mistress' heart," Kreacher growled. "Master Regulus was a good boy… Kind, gentle, intelligent-"
"Kind, gentle, and intelligent?" Ron sneered, and Kreacher grit what few teeth he had left. "He joined a squad of mass-murdering psychopaths, who were led by a disgusting, deceitful lunatic. The 'Dark Lord'… Did you know that You-Know-Who was a Half-Blood?" Kreacher blinked at Ron, while Ron nodded at him. "That's right… My Blood is arguably less tainted than his in his own sick ideology. But you know what I think? I think he was just a spiteful beast, and he manipulated idiots like Regulus Black into serving him. The only thing that the Dark Lord cares about is himself, the only thing he serves is himself… There is no 'better World' in his vision for the Future. Only him."
"What does the nasty brat want?" Kreacher demanded. "What is the reason behind this?"
"I'm looking for something," Ron started, and Kreacher began to open his mouth. "I'm not a thief, and if you say that I am, I'll pull your fucking tongue out of your head." Ron then drew in a deep breath, and he looked into Kreacher's eyes. "I'm looking for a Locket that's linked to Regulus Black and the Dark Lord." Kreacher's entire body tensed as his eyes lit up, and Ron felt his own excitement grow. He knows about it! "You know something, don't you?"
"Kreacher knows nothing about this golden Locket," Kreacher lied quickly, doing his best to school his features.
"I never mentioned that it was gold," Ron pointed out, and Kreacher's eyes widened. "You know the exact Locket that I'm looking for, don't you? Talk."
"Rot, Blood-Traitor," Kreacher spat out, and then he actually spat at Ron's feet. Ron stared down at the phlegmy saliva, and then he turned his head and cracked his neck.
"I'm not leaving until you talk," Ron said coldly, and then he raised his left hand. "Incendio." Ron's entire left arm felt like it was on fire, and then, it felt like there was hot steam pouring out of his coat's sleeve. Kreacher swallowed thickly as Ron's left hand began to glow orange, his bones and veins becoming visible. "Either you start talking, or I'll pull the skin off of your skull like hot cheese."
"Do… Do your wo… worst…" Kreacher stammered, and Ron slowly stood up.
"Tell me about this Locket," Ron said, his searing hot palm hovering near Kreacher's face. "Kreacher, start talking… I won't ask you again."
"Kreacher will not betray Master Regulus…" Kreacher murmured, his head slowly shrinking away from the heat coming off of Ron's hand. Will not betray Master Regulus? Ron slowly undid the Spell on his hand, and Kreacher looked up at him.
"Why would telling me about this Locket betray your deceased Master?" Ron asked the Elf, who immediately averted his gaze.
"Rot, Blood-Traitor," Kreacher hissed, he would never hand over his Master's Locket." This again?! Ron felt his blood boil, and then something snapped in his head.
"WHERE IS IT?!" Ron shrieked, his hands lunging forward to grab Kreacher's skull. The Elf's eyes widened to a horrifying level, while his jaw dropped open at the sight of Ron's crimson, toad-like eyes. "WHERE IS THE LOCKET?! SPEAK! OR WE WILL TEAR YOU OPEN AND BITE OUT YOUR HEART!" Kreacher let out a horrified whimper, and then he passed out from sheer terror. Ron just stared at the Elf's dangling head in his hands, which he then pushed it away angrily. "Disgusting vermin…"
Ten Minutes Later
The Elf had pissed himself, and as disgusting as that was, Ron had used Scourgify to clean up the Elf's mess. Disturbingly enough, Ron remembered going full Entity on Kreacher, which was unlike all the previous times the Entity had shown its face. Ron remembered every second of it. For that brief period of time, Ron had felt an overwhelming sense of rage and bitterness. But he had also felt power. Absolute power.
And even though Ron wanted to keep feeling that power coursing through him, he had backed off. He had realized that the power he felt wasn't his own, and that if he gave into it, his Cycle would fail. The Entity itself had told Ron that it 'bleeding into his mind' wasn't a good thing. So after his moment of weakness, Ron had left Kreacher alone for a bit. He had drank one of Snape's Calming Tonics in order to regather his thoughts, and then he had begun planning.
Firstly, the Elf would need to be dealt with after this. Kreacher had seen the Entity, and since he hated Ron's insides, he would no doubt tell everyone about this in order to get Ron killed. Secondly, Kreacher definitely knew about the Locket. And not only that, but he was trying his hardest to not 'betray Master Regulus'. Clearly, Regulus was more connected to this Locket than Ron had previously suspected. Chances were that Kreacher probably knew where it was, and if that was the case, then Ron needed to convince the Elf to give it up. Luckily for Ron, Kreacher was definitely scared of him now.
"Rennervate," Ron chanted, and Kreacher woke up with a bloodcurdling scream.
"Demon! Hell-Spawn! Evil incarnate!" Kreacher howled, and when he spotted Ron, he began squirming wildly in his binds. Ron didn't really feel much from Kreacher's panicked state, the Calming Tonic was doing its job.
"Stop screaming," Ron said coldly, his eyes fixed on the Elf's. Kreacher nodded madly, his body shaking from fear. "I'm sorry that you saw that side of me, Kreacher. I usually try and keep it hidden." I have to own this for now, it might get him to start talking.
"What… Who are you?" Kreacher whimpered, he could still hear that terrifying voice echoing inside his head.
"I'm Ron," Ron shrugged, and Kreacher blinked at him. "Shall we continue our conversation?"
"Please… Kreacher knows nothing about this Locket," Kreacher lied.
"Yes, you do," Ron countered. "You said that you couldn't betray Master Regulus, not to mention that you know that it's gold. You know which Locket I'm asking about, I know it. Tell me where it is, Kreacher. Don't make me lose control like that again."
"Why? Why does the… Why does Master Ronald seek it?" Kreacher muttered, and Ron cocked an eyebrow at him. Master Ronald? Hmmm, what should I tell him?
"I plan to destroy it," Ron replied truthfully, there was a fifty percent chance that the Elf would not tell him now. Well, fifty percent until I start hurting him.
"Destroy it?" Kreacher asked slowly, something shifting behind his eyes. "Why?"
"My reasons are my own," Ron replied, and Kreacher looked down at the floor. "You're protecting it, and I-"
"Protecting it?" Kreacher repeated rather quickly, his head shooting back up. "Kreacher would never protect it… Never… Kreacher only…" he trailed off, his eyes darting around the room.
"Only what?" Ron asked as he sat back down. "Tell me about your connection to this Locket, and why handing it over to me would 'betray Master Regulus'." The Elf looked back down at the ground, he looked like he was struggling to get the words out.
"Why does Master Ronald seek to destroy it?" Kreacher muttered under his breath, but Ron heard him clearly because of how quiet the Kitchen was. I'll give him a little, it help him open up.
"It's connected to the Dark Lord, and I want to hurt him," Ron replied, and Kreacher looked back up. "I think that You-Know-Who killed your Master Regulus, Kreacher. Didn't you love Master Regulus? Don't you want to hurt the man who killed your beloved Master?"
"It… It cannot be destroyed," Kreacher whimpered, his eyes welling up. "Kreacher has tried for over ten years… It cannot be destroyed…" Huh? He's tried to destroy it? Ron pulled his seat closer to Kreacher's, who tried to shrink away from him.
"It's alright," Ron said gently, his gloved hand giving Kreacher's shoulder a soft squeeze. "Tell me what you know, Kreacher. It seems to me that we might have something in common here. Tell me about Master Regulus' connection to the Locket." Kreacher gave Ron a pathetic look, he was clearly struggling with confessing. C'mon, Elf, don't make me hurt you.
"Master Regulus was kind to Kreacher… Ever since he was a boy…" Kreacher started, his voice cracking. "Master Regulus, unlike Master Sirius, always had proper pride. He knew what was owed to the name of Black, and he respected the dignity of his pure blood. For years he spoke of the Dark Lord, who was fighting to bring Wizarding-kind out of the shadows in order to rule over the Muggles and Mud-Bloods-"
"Don't use that word," Ron told him, and Kreacher looked down at his feet. "Continue talking."
"When Master Regulus was sixteen, he joined the Dark Lord," Kreacher sniffled. "He was so proud, so proud, so happy to serve… But things were different from what my poor Master had imagined them to be."
"The Dark Lord wasn't a hero?" Ron asked, and Kreacher sniffled loudly.
"The Dark Lord enjoyed inflicting terror, and he rewarded cruelty," Kreacher hiccupped. "Deep down, my Master was a kind and gentle soul… He could not understand why the Dark Lord was so evil, and so he became a shadow of his former self…"
"He was called 'the Dark Lord' for a reason," Ron pointed out. "Why would Master Regulus join such a man and expect something heroic?"
"The Ministry lies… That is no secret…" Kreacher said weakly, and Ron nodded. He thought that the title of 'Dark Lord' was a lie? "The Dark Lord wanted Master Regulus to do evil things, but Master Regulus couldn't do them… He could not hurt the defenseless, so Kreacher hurt them instead… Kreacher killed them to protect Master…" Ron felt an ounce of anger swell up in his chest, but the Calming Tonic quickly doused the flames. "Kreacher had no choice…"
"Yes, you did," Ron told him, and the Elf looked up with teary eyes. "Sirius was in the Order, and if you and Master Regulus had tried, he'd have accepted you both. But you didn't even try, did you?"
"We were afraid…" Kreacher croaked.
"So were the people you murdered," Ron pointed out, and Kreacher looked down at his feet. "Muggles who had no idea why they were being tortured and killed, Muggle-Borns who were being hunted down simply because they were born. You had a choice, Kreacher, and you chose the wrong one." Kreacher didn't say anything to that, so Ron lifted his head up by his chin. "You can make the right choice now though. I'm giving you that chance, Kreacher. Where does the Locket fit into the story?"
"One night, a year after he had joined, Master Regulus came to see Kreacher," Kreacher cried out, big tears falling down his leathery face. "Master Regulus said that the Dark Lord… that the Dark Lord required an Elf…"
"He needed an Elf?" Ron blinked, and Kreacher let out a painful sob.
"Yes, he did…" Kreacher cried as he shook his head. "Master Regulus had volunteered Kreacher for service… He told Kreacher that it was an honor, for him and for Kreacher, and that Kreacher had to do exactly as the Dark Lord commanded… And once the Dark Lord was done with him, Kreacher was to come straight home…"
"So Kreacher went to the Dark Lord, who did not tell Kreacher anything," Kreacher went on, his voice becoming more and more strained. "Instead, he took Kreacher to a cave by the sea… In the cave was a dark cavern, and within the dark cavern was a great lake… A lake with black water… Water that smelled of death and decay… Kreacher and the Dark Lord crossed it using a boat. There was an island in the middle of the lake, and on that island was a basin… A basin filled with Potion…"
"The Dark Lord ordered Kreacher to drink the Potion, and so he did," Kreacher croaked. "And as Kreacher drank it, he saw terrible things… Kreacher's insides burned, and so Kreacher begged the Dark Lord for mercy… But the Dark Lord simply laughed, and kept forcing more of the Potion down Kreacher's throat… Once the basin was empty, Kreacher saw the Dark Lord place the Locket in the basin… And then, he filled the basin with more Potion."
"The Dark Lord already had the Locket?" Ron asked, and Kreacher nodded slowly. Dumbledore theorized that the Locket was made after Regulus' death, but if not, then how did Regulus die? "Tell me more, please."
"Kreacher watched in agony as the Dark Lord sailed away without him," Kreacher sobbed out. "Kreacher called for Master Regulus to save him, for his mistress to find him… Kreacher was in so much pain, and so thirsty… So Kreacher drank from the black lake, but as he filled his mouth, hands reached out for him… Dead hands, which dragged Kreacher into the water… Until Kreacher escaped in order to return home…"
"Escaped?" Ron asked, his mind digesting all of this information.
"Master Regulus had ordered Kreacher to return home," the Elf wept. "Kreacher did as he was told…"
"But how did you escape?" Ron asked. "Didn't the 'dead hands' drag you into the water?"
"Kreacher disapparated…" Kreacher replied, his bloodshot eyes giving Ron a confused look.
"Elf Magic…" Ron nodded slowly, he knew that Marty could apparate almost anywhere. Even the Chamber of Secrets. "The Dark Lord underestimated you."
"The Dark Lord thought very little of House-Elves, including Kreacher," Kreacher looked down at his feet.
"Did you tell Master Regulus about this?" Ron asked, and Kreacher let out a pained cry.
"Kreacher was so foolish…" Kreacher began weeping. "Kreacher told him, and it broke Master Regulus' heart… Master Regulus ordered Kreacher to stay hidden, to never venture outside… And then, after a few weeks, Master Regulus returned home. He found Kreacher in his cupboard, and Kreacher could see that Master Regulus was… disturbed… in his mind. He asked Kreacher to take him to the cave, the cave that the Dark Lord had taken Kreacher to…"
"And Kreacher obeyed…" Kreacher cried guiltily. "Kreacher took Master Regulus to the cave, he showed Master Regulus the way inside the cavern… And then, Kreacher took the young Master across the black lake with the dead things…"
"You took him to the basin of poison?" Ron asked, and Kreacher let out a wail. Ron didn't tell him to stop, instead, he chose to wait it out. After a few minutes for self-berating and crying hysterically, Kreacher answered Ron's question.
"Kreacher had told Master Regulus of the Potion," Kreacher managed, massive tears pouring out of his gigantic eyes.
"Did he make you drink it?" Ron asked, and Kreacher sobbed once again.
"Kreacher offered to, but the young Master wouldn't let him," Kreacher sobbed out, and Ron came to a horrible realization. He drank the poison himself? He didn't want his Elf to suffer its effects again? "Master Regulus… He… He drank it all… Even as Kreacher begged him to stop… But the young Master kept drinking… And once the basin was empty, he had Kreacher swap the Dark Lord's Locket with a counterfeit… He ordered Kreacher to never tell his Family, not even his Mistress… And then… And then he ordered Kreacher to leave… To destroy the first Locket…"
"He asked you to leave him?" Ron asked, and Kreacher let out a loud wail.
"The dead things were trying to kill us!" Kreacher cried hysterically. "They were trying to pull us into the water! Master Regulus ordered Kreacher to leave him behind, and Kreacher was forced to obey! Kreacher watched the young Master, the kind Master, get dragged into the water!" Kreacher started crying with raspy sobs, his tiny body heaving violently. "Kreacher left Master Regulus to die alone!"
Ron leaned back in his seat as he watched the Elf howl as if he was in horrible pain, and despite the Calming Tonic numbing him, Ron felt some sympathy for the Elf. And for Regulus Black. He died saving his Family, I can respect nothing more. He gave his life for Kreacher, just as I'd give mine for Marty. Maybe Kreacher was right about Regulus being kind and gentle. Maybe the man's only fault was his naivety. Ron couldn't help but wonder if Sirius knew of his brother's final moments, and after thinking a bit on it, he figured that Sirius knew nothing. No one knew just what Regulus had done. He had died alone, with no one to remember his final moments except for Kreacher.
Was it possible that Regulus had learned about the Dark Lord's Horcruxes? It was certainly looking like it was. The Slytherin had ordered Kreacher to destroy the Locket, even in his last moments, Regulus had wanted Kreacher to destroy the thing that made the Dark Lord immortal. Regulus' allegiance had changed, but sadly, he had perished before anyone could learn of his heroic act.
Ron stood up and walked over to the dishcloths, and after taking the cleanest one, he returned to his seat. Kreacher was still sobbing from remembering how his Master had died, but after a few long minutes, his sobbing became weaker and more subdued. That's when Ron reached forward with the dishcloth in order to clean up the old Elf's face, something that the Elf didn't even react to. Once Kreacher was cleaned up into a better state, Ron tossed the snotty dishcloth onto the table.
"Kreacher, where is the Locket?" Ron asked, and Kreacher coughed out another sob. "I want to destroy it, just as Master Regulus did. Let me help you fulfil his final wish. Don't let his death be in vain."
"It cannot be destroyed," Kreacher told Ron, his face showing his heartbreak. "Kreacher spent years trying to honor his Master's final wish, but Kreacher has tasted nothing but failure… It cannot be destroyed…"
"Then let me try," Ron suggested, and Kreacher looked at him through weary, blood-shot eyes. "Please." Ron then undid the Elf's binds with his hands, while Kreacher watched him with a confused and saddened expression. Ron couldn't help but notice the rope burns on the Elf's arms, and so he quickly used his wand to heal the Elf's injuries.
"Why? Why does Master Ronald wish to destroy it?" Kreacher asked once again, it was as if he couldn't understand Ron's motives.
"Because the Dark Lord has to pay," Ron replied, and Kreacher blinked at him. "How many people have died because of one man's selfish desire for immortality? How many more will die in the Future? The Dark Lord still lives, I know that you know it." Kreacher looked down at his feet as he massaged his sore arms. "Your Master changed his outlook on things, Kreacher. He wanted the Dark Lord gone."
"Master Regulus never said that," Kreacher croaked.
"But he did want it, didn't he?" Ron asked, and Kreacher nodded weakly. "Where is the Locket, Kreacher?"
"Kreacher cannot trust anyone with it," Kreacher shook his head. "Kreacher cannot lose it… Not until Kreacher has fulfilled his Master's wish."
"Then how about this?" Ron started, and Kreacher looked back up. "Once I've destroyed it, I'll call you to me. You can hear my summons if you try, can't you?" Kreacher nodded weakly, and Ron gave him a resolute look. "I, Ronald Bilius Weasley, swear this to you, Kreacher. I will destroy the Locket in Master Regulus' name, and once the deed is done, I'll call you to me. I will show you the proof."
"And if Master Ronald cannot destroy it?" Kreacher asked slowly.
"You know that I can," Ron replied. "You've seen a side of me that no one really has." Kreacher swallowed thickly, he could suddenly hear that demonic voice again. "I promise that I will find a way to destroy it, and once I have, I'll show you the remains. Please, Kreacher, help me."
They both stared at each other for a few moments, and then Kreacher slowly hopped off of his seat, while Ron stood up from his. Kreacher then walked towards his cupboard in a subdued and frightened manner, and once he had opened the tiny door, he ruffled through his hoard of relics. Ron simply stared at the tiny cupboard with a light frown, how could the Elf sleep in that dank little spot? Kreacher then slowly stepped out of his cupboard, a polished wooden box in his hands.
"It's in there?" Ron asked, and Kreacher sniffled as he nodded. Kreacher then opened the box for Ron to see, and Ron's eyes were immediately fixed on the golden Locket. The Locket's bright green emeralds seemed to glow in Ron's eyes, and he felt a rather odd feeling. It was as if the Locket was trying to whisper something important to him.
"Close the lid," Ron ordered, and Kreacher did so immediately. It's his Locket, and I don't want to see it. I don't even want to have it near me. Ron pulled out his Warded pouch, and he gestured Kreacher to put the box inside it. "It's Enchanted. Go on."
"Kreacher has Master Ronald's word?" Kreacher asked, and Ron gave him a firm nod. Kreacher then nodded back, and he slowly slid the entire box inside the pouch. "Kreacher will wait then…"
"Clean up everything, Kreacher," Ron told the Elf. "No one can know that I was ever here, do you understand?"
"Kreacher understands," Kreacher nodded as Ron put the pouch inside his coat. After that, Ron leaned down and undid the Slaver's Collar around Kreacher's neck.
"I'm sorry that I used this on you, but I didn't know that we shared the same goal," Ron said, and Kreacher rubbed his neck as he stared down at his own feet. "I'll call you soon, I swear it. Master Regulus' death won't be in vain."
Friday 25th September, 1993 (The Sanctuary – Before Lunch)
"Ron, why are you being so quiet?" Daphne asked, and Ron looked up from Flitwick's book.
"Um… I'm reading?" Ron said slowly. That, and I have a piece of the Dark Lord's soul in my damn pocket. Merlin, if only my friends knew…
"Don't you want to practice with the others?" Daphne asked, her eyes darting towards their friends. Ron looked to them as well, and from what he could tell, they were all trying their best. All of them except for Blaise… He's sort of just standing around.
"I'm just trying to figure out this Baubillious Charm nonsense," Ron told Daphne, who nodded slowly.
"Are… Ron, are you on a Calming Draught?" Daphne asked slowly, and Ron blinked at her. Is she an expert on Ronald Weasley behaviors? Oh wait… She probably is.
"Why do you say that?" Ron asked, he could still feel the effects of Snape's Calming Tonic.
"You've just been very subdued since you got back, and when I asked you if you wanted to sneak off with me, you barely acknowledged me," Daphne whispered, and Ron could hear the slight hurt in her voice.
"Come here," Ron smiled as he scooted aside, and Daphne looked to their friends. "It's alright, this is a loveseat. They won't suspect anything." Daphne slowly got up and sat down by his side, and when she had settled into her seat, Ron scooted closer to her in order to put his right arm around her lower back.
"Ron, they're right there," Daphne whispered, now she was definitely suspicious.
"You see this Charm?" Ron showed her his book, and she read the description of the Baubillious Charm's Wandless variation.
"Lightning?" Daphne blinked at the page, and Ron hummed in response.
"I've been trying to master this Spell ever since I got this book, but no matter what I do, I can't manage anything but flashy sparks," Ron told her, and she turned her face to his. "I'm starting to get really frustrated with it, which is why I just keep rereading this same passage over and over again."
"Right…" Daphne whispered, her eyes darting towards their friends.
"What I'm trying to say is that I'm just a bit distracted," Ron told her. "I didn't mean to come across as cold. I'm sorry."
"It's alright," Daphne sighed. "But you didn't answer my question. Are you on a Calming Draught?"
"I had a bit of Calming Tonic," Ron replied, he didn't want to keep lying needlessly.
"Ron… Why?" Daphne asked, her voice showcasing her disapproval. "What happened? Is something wrong with your business?"
"No, I just gave into the pressure…" Ron told her, which was partly true. "I'm sorry… again. I know that you don't like it when I'm on this sort of stuff, but I promise, I didn't have enough to turn me into a 'zombie', as Tracey puts it. I was just scared that things could go wrong, and I didn't want to look weak by trembling."
"Okay," Daphne whispered, and Ron gave her a quick kiss. "Ron? Merlin, you're insane… They could have seen that." Daphne's eyes went to their friends again, and she breathed out in relief when she noticed that no one was even looking at them.
"You remember when you started teasing me in public?" Ron smirked at her. "Back when we first started doing this?"
"Teasing is one thing, but I've never kissed you near people," Daphne whispered, and Ron simply shrugged.
"You kissed me in the middle of the Library," Ron reminded her, and Daphne sighed in defeat.
"Please, just be more careful," Daphne told him, and Ron nodded his agreement.
"I don't want to sound rude here," Ron started, and Daphne looked into his eyes. "But why aren't you training as well?"
"You said that you would teach me," Daphne reminded him, and Ron smiled.
"Alright, let's go then," Ron said, and they both stood up.
Friday 25th September, 1993 (The Great Hall – Lunch)
"So he's just not hungry?" Ron asked the group, who all nodded.
"That's what he said, Ron," Tracey sighed out. "Is it just me, or is Blaise being really weird since last night?"
"He's not hungry, and he was tired from our training session," Theo pointed out. "Let the man nap in peace."
"Pansy, did you talk to him?" Ron asked, and she nodded slowly.
"I'm sorry, Ron," Pansy started with a sheepish smile. "But he didn't say anything of note. I did notice that he was more aloof than usual, but then again, his mother's sixth wedding is coming up soon."
"You're right," Millie nodded. "That's probably why he's so closed off all of a sudden."
"Should we do something for him?" Daphne asked the others. "Maybe get him a gift? Does he want anything in particular?" The girls looked to Theo and Ron for an answer, but neither of them really had anything to say to that.
"When Blaise wants something, he get it himself," Theo told them.
"He'd never ask us to buy him gifts," Ron added. "That's just not him."
"Boys," the girls frowned, and Ron and Theo gave them deadpan looks.
"Let's order him something foreign?" Daphne asked Pansy, who nodded slowly.
"What about foreign sweets?" Pansy asked the girls. "Blaise loves rice-cakes."
"What's a rice-cake?" Ron asked, but the girls just shushed him. Alright then…
"Ha," Theo whispered in his ear, and Ron shot him a frown.
"Has Blaise said anything to you?" Ron asked Theo, who shook his head.
"He's just being Blaise," Theo waved a dismissive hand. "I mean seriously, he acts a bit colder than usual for one day, and everyone is trying to get him to 'smile' again."
"Jealous?" Ron smirked, and Theo scoffed. Yeah, he's jealous. "For what it's worth, Theo. I'd be just as worried about you if you were acting off." Theo blinked at that, and then he looked down at his plate.
"You're being weird," Theo said to his plate, and Ron smiled at him. "Thanks, by the way…"
"It's no worries," Ron shrugged.
"Not about this," Theo told him, his eyes still on his plate. "For what you did in D.A.D.A… Thank you for stepping ahead of me like that… I mean it." Ron just stared at Theo for a few seconds, and then he patted his friend's back rather gently.
"Don't mention it," Ron smiled a bit more widely. Change the subject, Theo is clearly not feeling comfortable right now. "By the way, you're getting faster at reading the dummies' moves. You did some pretty fantastic dodges today." Theo looked to Ron with a slightly confused look, and then he smirked arrogantly. There's my mate.
"Want pointers?" Theo asked as he straightened his back, and Ron sniggered.
"Prick," Ron said as he went back to his meal, while Theo took in a proud sniff. As Ron began eating, he decided to look around the Great Hall in order to see if the Professors had returned. Damn. All the Heads of Houses, Dumbledore, and Hagrid are still missing. I know that I left a note in Snape's drawer, but I just want to get rid of this fucking thing in my pocket. Nightfall can't come soon enough.
Ron then looked towards Luna, and he noticed her talking to Padma about something. That's when he saw an older girl say something as she waved at Luna, and while Luna smiled and waved back, Padma frowned deeply and pulled Luna's attention back to herself. That girl… Is she this Gertrude Swans? Ron eyed the brown haired Ravenclaw, who was surrounded by her sniggering friends. They were all clearly watching Luna, and judging by Padma's ever growing displeasure, they were making fun of Ron's sister. I can't intervene now. Not when I have this damn Locket in my pocket.
Ron then looked towards Ginny, and just like the previous five days, she was sitting with Hermione. Both girls were engrossed in a passionate conversation about something, and Ron figured that they were talking about clothes or something. Being friends with only two boys must get tedious for Hermione. At least she has a girlfriend now. Ron had only spoken to Ginny briefly during this week, she seemed to be quite concerned for Hermione being left alone at Hogwarts while Harry and Neville returned home. So in a way, Ron was proud that his sister was trying to keep Hermione company. The frizzy haired witch didn't really have any other friends beside Harry and Neville, and she was still keeping her distance from Ron. That fucking quill didn't do anything to appease her. Maybe she just needs time, just like I did after what happened that night.
Ron's eyes then drifted towards his own table, and unsurprisingly, he spotted Tori firing her food from her spoon at Mathew. That girl… Mathew just frowned at her, and then he went back to his book. Tori pouted angrily, and Ron figured that she was trying to get a rise out of the boy. The other first years were listening to Sebastian's tall tales, and judging by how he was moving his hand around, Ron figured that he was telling them about his latest session on Ron's Nimbus 2001. And that's when Ron looked to Crabbe and Goyle, who were just smashing down their food. No Malfoy? Is he 'hiding' again? Hmmm, no Malfoy… and no Blaise… Something began whispering about devious schemes in his mind, but Ron ignored it. No way. Blaise would never go to Malfoy, despite feeling bad for him.
Friday 25th September, 1993 (Dumbledore's Office – Near Midnight)
"If what you're saying is indeed true, then I regret never reaching out to Regulus," Dumbledore sighed, his eyes fixed on the box. "To think that Harry has been living in the same house as Lord Voldemort's soul. Or at least, a fragment of it."
"I believe Kreacher," Ron said firmly. "If you had been there, you would've believe him too. And he did give me the Locket, didn't he?"
"Even I must admit that Regulus has surprised me," Snape said, he looked more distant than usual. "I never thought that he had it in him. Not to mention that he uncovered the Dark Lord's secret all by himself."
"I think we should let Kreacher tell Sirius about this," Ron said, and both wizards shook their heads. "Sirius probably believes that his brother died a coward… Regulus deserves more respect than that."
"Word of this cannot spread, Ronald," Dumbledore told him. "Sirius would have questions for Kreacher, questions which would endanger our own plans. I am still convinced that we should Obliviate Kreacher after destroying this Horcrux."
"No," Ron argued. "Kreacher's probably as bitter as he is because he's been failing to honor his Master's final wish. If you wipe his mind after this, he'll go back to being a miserable little shite."
"And if you do wipe his mind, you'll have to wipe and alter a decade's worth of memories," Snape pointed out. "It would destroy the Elf's mind completely. Which in turn would raise a lot more questions."
"Merlin," Ron blinked at Snape, and then he gave Dumbledore a firm look. "We are not doing that. I gave him my word that I'd help him complete Regulus' will. Kreacher's done terrible things, but even I can see that he was forced into it because Regulus was a moron in his earlier years."
"Very well," Dumbledore agreed, his eyes fixed on Ron's. "You'll have to bind him to secrecy then. The Dark Lord cannot be allowed to even suspect that we know of his secret. If he finds out, we'll all die." Trust me, Kreacher won't betray my trust. He's too afraid of me to do that. Ron hadn't told Snape and Dumbledore about his little 'Entity moment', mostly because he knew that they'd off the Elf in order to keep Ron's secret safe. No, I'll keep Kreacher around for my own use. If I help him complete Regulus' will, it'll win me the loyalty of another Elf.
"So… How do we destroy that?" Ron asked, his eyes darting towards the closed box.
"I have a theory," Dumbledore said, and then he drew out the sword of Gryffindor from beneath his desk.
"Woah!" Ron said, both he and Snape were relatively surprised to see the old man just whip out a sword. "You keep that hidden in your robes or something?"
"Where else would I keep it?" Dumbledore asked, and both Ron and Snape exchanged looks. "I am, of course, pulling your legs, you two."
"Uh-uh," Ron blinked. Liar! He definitely walks around the school with a fucking sword hilt clenched in-between his cheeks.
"Why the sword of Gryffindor?" Snape asked. "Is it because of Ron's vision?"
"I believe that the snake that killed Ronald in one of his previous lives was indeed a Horcrux," Dumbledore nodded. "Why else would Harry ask that Ronald to specifically use a sword? Why else would that Ronald not use his Magic against the beast?"
"So the sword of Gryffindor can undo the Heir of Slytherin's Magic?" Ron asked, and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.
"Step back, my friends," Dumbledore said as he reached to open the box, but Snape quickly stopped him.
"Perhaps touching such a Dark Artefact is not the wisest of policies?" Snape asked, and Ron nodded slowly. "Remember Miss. Weasley's experience?"
"Yeah, what if it possess you?" Ron asked, and Dumbledore let out a sigh. "You're holding a damn sword, Headmaster. I don't plan to get stabbed through the face tonight."
"Someone has to touch it, it's protected against all types of normal Magic," Dumbledore told them.
"Then let me," Snape said as he opened the box.
"Severus, don't-" Dumbledore started, but Snape had already pulled the golden Locket out of the box.
"Merlin, he bloody touched it," Ron said as he took another step back.
"You two are more valuable than me in the war to come," Snape told them, and then he placed the Horcrux on the table. Bloody madman. "That was… uneventful…"
"Don't do something like that again," Dumbledore scolded, his expression hardening. Ron simply averted his gaze, while Snape stepped back like a scolded schoolboy. Dumbledore then planted the sword on top of the Locket, and then he drew it over his head.
And then, Dumbledore brought the sword down with all of his might. As soon as the blade touched the Horcrux, a shockwave of Magic blasted all three of them off of their feet. Ron was sent reeling down the steps and into one of Dumbledore's contraptions, while Snape bounced off of the pillar behind him before smashing into of the chairs. As for Dumbledore, the old man was sent flying over his chair before landing flat on his back. Ron just lay under the contraption for a few seconds, his ears ringing as Fawkes shrieked wildly.
"My head…" Ron grit out, he could feel his hair getting wet with a warm liquid. Ron pushed the contraption off of himself, and then he stood up on shaky legs. It took a moment before his vision became clear once again, and he felt his blood trickle down his face. I hit my forehead on that fucking toy! Fuck! Ron limped back up the stairs, his eyes landing on the unscathed Horcrux. "You tough little cunt…" Ron then moved past the table in order to find Dumbledore, who was just lying on the ground with a stunned expression. "Headmaster? Are you hurt?"
"I… I am still breathing, my boy," Dumbledore wheezed out, while Ron kneeled down beside him. "Ronald… Your forehead…"
"A scratch…" Ron mumbled, his head was still spinning a little.
"No, it really isn't…" Dumbledore coughed out. "The sword?" The sword? Ron looked around, and he spotted the sword impaled through a wall.
"That's a sharp blade," Ron noted, and then he shook his head clear. "Let me help you, Headmaster…"
"Thank you, dear boy," Dumbledore managed, and then he groaned loudly as Ron helped him to his feet.
"Albus? Ronald?" came Snape's voice, and they looked to see Snape leaning against the pillar he had bounced off of.
"Severus, are you unharmed?" Dumbledore asked as Ron helped him to the table, while Snape just grunted out his response. Ron then picked up the Headmaster's heavy chair, and he placed it behind the old man.
"Headmaster, please sit," Ron breathed out, and as Dumbledore sat down, Ron limped towards his own toppled chair.
"Merlin…" Snape groaned, his eyes landing on the smudge of blood on the pillar. Snape then felt the back of his own head, and when his fingers came out of his greasy hair, they were slick with blood.
"Now you have to wash your hair," Ron laughed weakly, and Snape shot him a murderous glare.
"Your forehead…" Snape muttered, his glare dying immediately.
"Heal him, please…" Dumbledore managed, he was still completely winded. Snape took out his wand, but Ron gestured him to stop.
"Wait… Wait…" Ron mumbled. "Let it stay there for now…"
"Are you mad?" Snape hissed. "Come here, Weasley…"
"I promised to call Kreacher after 'I' destroyed the Horcrux," Ron told them. "He'll be even more loyal to me if he thinks that I got hurt in the process… Which, by the way, I did."
"Did you not just see what just happened?" Snape asked, and then he pointed to the unharmed Locket. "It didn't work… Now come here…"
"It doesn't even hurt," Ron waved a tired hand.
"It's called shock, you imbecile," Snape frowned, and then he began healing his own head.
"Why don't you just destroy that thing like you did the Diary?" Ron asked Dumbledore, who was clenching his teeth as he felt up his ribs.
"Cursed Fire?" Snape muttered, and Ron clapped his hands.
"That… Use that…" Ron said, and then he sunk into his chair. "Fucking hell, my head…"
"Albus, let me attend to you at least," Snape said, but Dumbledore raised his hand to stop the Potions Master.
"I am alright, I assure you," Dumbledore said, and Snape rolled his eyes.
"Fine, you two can rot for all I care," Snape glowered, and then he glared at the Locket. "So much for Godric's famed blade… A useless relic of the past…"
"On that, I agree with you," Ron said, and then he used his left hand to clear the blood around his eyes. Fuck, that's starting to hurt.
"Fawkes, come to me," Albus said as he stood up, and the worried Phoenix flew over and landed on Dumbledore's right shoulder. "Severus, grab the Locket. We're leaving Hogwarts for this… Ronald, come stand by me." Snape did as he was told, while Ron got up and walked up to Dumbledore. The old man then grabbed onto them both, and Fawkes burst into hot flames. Ron felt searing hotness wash over his skin, and when he opened his eyes, they were standing on a barren hillside.
"That was awesome!" Ron laughed, and then his legs wobbled a bit. Fawkes let out a proud shrill, and then he took off to enjoy the cool night's breeze.
"Ronald, stay here please," Dumbledore ordered. "Severus, you know what to do." Snape nodded in understanding, and then he tossed the Locket away from them.
"What are you doing?" Ron asked them.
"Observe, this is important for you to learn," Dumbledore ordered, and Ron nodded quickly.
"Finite!" Snape chanted, and then he planted his wand into the Earth. A light blue shield began to engulf the area around the discarded Locket, while Dumbledore walked forward before aiming his own wand at the Locket.
Dumbledore chanted something under his breath, and then a torrent of bright orange flames burst out of his wand. Ron watched with wide-eyes as the shield opened to allow the flames in, and once it reclosed, Dumbledore cut off the Cursed Flames before planting his own wand into the Earth. Ron could hear the flames roaring wildly as they scorched everything within the shield, and judging by Snape and Dumbledore's strained expressions, they were struggling to keep it held in place. And then, there was a loud explosion from within the barrier, and the flames went completely out of control.
"Hold your ground, Severus!" Dumbledore yelled, while Snape let out a struggling yell of his own. Ron took a few panicked steps back as the flames morphed into a skeletal face, and when he heard the Dark Lord's screams emanate from the flames, Ron felt his entire body clench up. Good fucking Lord…
"Fucking hell," Ron muttered, he felt so tiny whilst he witnessed the Cursed Flames reach up towards the sky. Dumbledore and Snape kept the shield in place, somehow, and eventually, the Flames began to die due to a lack of air to burn. Once the flames were completely extinguished, Dumbledore and Snape pulled their wands out of the Earth. The shield slowly began to dissipate, while both wizards panted loudly.
"I think I got off watching that," Ron muttered, and Snape shot him a disgusted grimace. "You've got to teach me that… I'm begging you…"
"In time, my boy," Dumbledore stood up fully, his chest heaving in and out. "All in good time…" Dumbledore then fell to one knee, and Ron quickly ran up to help him.
"Headmaster?" Ron asked, while Dumbledore gritted his teeth.
"I might have a broken rib or two…" Dumbledore coughed out, and Ron looked to see Snape walk up to them. "Call Kreacher here once Severus and I leave… I'll send Fawkes back for you…"
"Did you seriously not get healed because you wanted to help me with my plan with Kreacher?" Ron asked, but Dumbledore merely smiled at him.
"It's a wise move, my boy," Dumbledore managed, and then Snape helped him to his feet. Fawkes flew down and perched himself on Snape's left shoulder, while Dumbledore kept his eyes on Ron. "Show him the Locket, and swear him to secrecy… Do you still have the pouch?"
"I do," Ron nodded.
"Don't let him keep the remains," Dumbledore said, and Ron nodded once again. "No one can know about this… No one…"
"Fawkes, take us back to the Headmaster's Office," Snape said, and Ron quickly stepped back as Fawkes burst into a vortex of bright flames. And then, he was all alone. Sweet Merlin, we just destroyed a Horcrux… It felt surreal, but at the same time, Ron's face was starting to split into a smile. Entity, can you hear me? We fucking dealt a heavy blow to the Lord of Serpents tonight.
Ron then made his way towards the Locket, the smell of smoke burning his nostrils and eyes. Ron then took out his wand, and using the Banishing Charm, he blasted the smoke away from him. The Locket lay in the center of the scorched ground, its golden form mangled and twisted. A relieved laugh broke out of Ron's throat at the sight of it, and before he knew it, he was laughing and cheering as loudly as he could. His voice echoed throughout the barren hill, and once he had finally stopped, he let the cool breeze wash over him. We did it! We fucking took out one more Horcrux! Two down, Merlin knows how many to go. We're coming for you, you fucking prick!
"Kreacher! Hear me!" Ron yelled out, another laugh breaking out of his mouth. For a few moments, nothing happened. But then, there was a loud crack from behind him. Ron turned to face Kreacher, who was looking around the barren hill with a frightened look. "Come to me, Kreacher!" Ron laughed, and the Elf blinked at him.
"The Locket…" Kreacher croaked. "Kreacher can no longer feel it binding him to Master Regulus' final wish…"
"Come here and see then," Ron gestured, and the Elf slowly walked up to Ron's side.
"Master Ronald… You are hurt…" Kreacher's eyes widened, there was a deep gash on the left side of Ron's forehead. His face was rather bloody, and the left side of his hair was slick with blood.
"Look," Ron smiled widely as he pointed to the mangled Locket, and Kreacher's eyes widened at the sight of it.
"It's… It's done…" Kreacher whimpered, his old face twitching from relief and sorrow. "Master Regulus' will is finally done…" Kreacher then looked at the scorched Earth around them, and then he looked to a smiling Ron with complete awe. "Master Weasley is as powerful as the Dark Lord himself…" Huh?
"Um… Not quite," Ron chuckled nervously, but Kreacher just shook his head.
"Master Ronald undid the Dark Lord's work…" Kreacher muttered, and then he threw himself Ron's feet.
"Hey, stop that," Ron said quickly as he crouched down, while Kreacher began wailing like a toddler.
"Kreacher is free… Master Regulus can rest in peace now…" Kreacher wailed. "Thank you… Thank you…"
"If you truly want to thank me, Kreacher," Ron started, and Kreacher looked up with a really odd expression. He's laughing and crying at the same time. "No one can ever know about this. Promise me that, please."
"Kreacher swears it!" Kreacher laughed/cried, his hands grabbing at Ron's ankles. "Kreacher will never speak of this, Kreacher swears it! Thank you!"
"And no more of those bigoted slurs," Ron added, and Kreacher just nodded madly as he planted his head on Ron's left foot. "Treat everyone with respect, Kreacher. Especially those that the Dark Lord persecutes. Master Regulus gave his life for yours, so honor him by defying the ideals of the man who as good as murdered him."
"Yes, Master Ronald," Kreacher sniffled loudly. "Thank you…"
"Please, stand up…" Ron sighed, and then he helped the old Elf to his feet. Not a fan of people worshiping my feet like that. "Go back home now, Kreacher. And remember… No one can know…"
"No one will know," Kreacher sobbed, and then he gave Ron a gummy smile. Ron gave him a weak smile in return, and after looking at the mangled Locket one more time, Kreacher disapparated. Ron then turned his attention to the Locket's remains, and he slowly reached for it.
"Wait… Glacius!" Ron chanted, and the muscles in his left hand tightened. Ron picked up the Locket with his left hand, and its hot surface sizzled upon Ron's touch. Ron didn't really feel anything, and before he could, he quickly tossed the Locket inside the Warded pouch. A feeling of pure relief settled into his chest, and he let out another joyous laugh. Ron then held his arms out to his sides, tilted his head back, and as the cool breeze washed over him, Ron felt an incredible sense of power flood his veins.
"AAAAGHHH!" Ron roared, and lightning cracked through the sky above him. Birds from almost a thousand yards away began shrieking as they fled their nests, while all the other animals scurried towards their holes.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Boom! I hope you guys enjoyed that! The good guys landed a devastating blow to the Dark Lord in this Chapter, and no, he didn't feel it. That whole 'sensing the Horcrox's death' was a Movie thing. That's two Horcruxes down, a bunch to go!
More from Harry, Neville, Draco, and others, during the next chapter!
See you guys on Thursday!