Fate

by TheTrueSpartan

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

80. Chapter 80 - The Stormbringer

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Chapter 80 is here! Man, we're almost up to a 100 Chapters! Goddamn! With this Chapter done, we are quickly approaching 1.5 million words! Just three and a half million words left to go!

Ron may be bashed to death in this fandom, but we'll give our boy the longest character driven fic on this site! #GiveRonJustice! #SayNoToBashing!

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 80 – The Stormbringer

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 3rd October, 1993 (The Boys' Room – Early Morning)

"Blaise," Ron whispered, and then he shook the sleeping boy. "Blaise, wake up."

"Huh?" Blaise muttered, his eyes opening groggily. "Ron? What is it?"

"I'm about to head off to work, and I just wanted to give you a quick kiss," Ron replied, and Blaise blinked at him. Hehe.

"What… the fuck?" Blaise muttered, and then he sat up with an exhausted look on his face. "Let me go brush my teeth first…" What?

"This wasn't part of the plan," Ron took a step back, and Blaise shot him a smirk.

"What is it, Ron?" Blaise yawned. "Something wrong?"

"Kind of," Ron nodded. "I won't be at Hogwarts today… or tomorrow. Which means that you guys will need to keep Malfoy away from Flint's lot."

"Shite…" Blaise sighed as he rubbed his face. "I forgot about your weekend commitments."

"Take him to the Sanctuary," Ron said, and Blaise looked up at him with a surprised look. "I've thought this through, and it's the only way to keep Flint away from you guys. He knows that I work on Saturdays, so he no doubt plans to make his move then."

"But the Sanctuary…" Blaise said slowly. "What if Mafloy tells people?"

"Just remind him that the Sanctuary is the only place where he'll be safe during the weekends," Ron replied. "It's a sacrifice, I know… But we have to make it. We gave Malfoy our word."

"If you think that's best, then I'll get it done," Blaise nodded, and then he drew in a deep breath. "I'm sorry about all of this…"

"Don't, Blaise," Ron said calmly. "It is what it is… Plus, your words helped convince people that I'm 'noble'. You saved me by telling people about your debt, and for that, I'm really grateful." Ron then fixed his tie, and he shot Blaise a smile. "Take him up there, and teach him the Disillusionment Charm as well. Alright?"

"Right," Blaise nodded, and Ron turned to leave. "Your sister was dead wrong, Ron. You're the most 'noble' person that I've ever met." Ron stopped at that, and then he gave Blaise an awkward smile.

"You've been saying some really nice things lately," Ron pointed out, and Blaise rolled his eyes.

"Just go to work," Blaise said, sounding more like his aloof self. Ron chuckled lightly, and then he began heading for Snape's Office. He resented that he had to give up his Sanctuary for Malfoy's sake, but at the end of the day, he didn't want Blaise to feel even worse than he already did. So Ron had forced on a calm demeanor and just handed over the one place where he felt at peace. It was a sacrifice that had to be made.

"Mr. Weasley," Snape drawled as Ron neared the Potions Master's Office, the dark-robbed wizard was waiting for him at the door. "You're late."

"Not by much," Ron shrugged. "I had to take care of something first."

"I see," Snape nodded curtly, and then he gestured Ron to follow him inside. Ron did as he was told, and once he was inside, he headed straight for the fireplace. "Before you depart, there is something that Albus wishes for you to know."

"The Headmaster has a message for me?" Ron asked as he turned to face Snape.

"He spoke with the Davis and Greengrass Families yesterday, and they have accepted his invitation to join the Order," Snape replied, and a genuine smile broke out on Ron's face. This is fantastic!

"I won't lie, I was starting to get worried that he wouldn't approach the Slytherins," Ron admitted, and then he let out a relieved laugh. "And they accepted, which is great news."

"They had demands," Snape told him, and nodded in understanding. "Their children are to be kept in the dark for now."

"What?" Ron blinked.

"They don't want to scare their children," Snape went on. "It's a reasonable request, and Albus has promised to honor it. Make sure that you do nothing to jeopardize that."

"But if they know what's coming, they'll take their training more seriously," Ron pointed out.

"Ron, just do as you're told for once," Snape said coldly. "This alliance is the building block towards a more… tolerant… Order. Don't endanger that. When the time comes, they will be told of the war by their own parents. Understood?"

"Fine," Ron nodded, Snape did make a good point. I'm sure there are other Families that will want to join the Order as well. The Greengrass and Davis Families will definitely add credibility to the Order's 'inclusiveness'. "I'll be on my way then."

"Just one more thing," Snape said, and Ron waited for him to go on. "Marcus Flint has lodged an official complaint against you for 'disrupting the Quidditch Team's efforts'. How do you want me to handle it?"

"You should expel me," Ron said sarcastically, and Snape frowned at him. "Obliviously I want you to tell Flint to go fuck himself… It's your Godson that's causing me these issues." Ron turned around and grabbed a pinch of floo-powder. "Greengrass Manor." As Ron tossed the floo-powder into the fire, Snape put his hand on Ron's right shoulder.

"Don't bring up the Order with Greengrass," Snape said, and Ron gave him a nod. "I will see you at dinner."

"Goodbye, Sir," Ron said, and then he went through the fire.

---

Saturday 3rd October, 1993 (Greengrass Manor - Lunch)

"My Lord?" Ron called for the third time, and his Mentor suddenly broke out of his thoughts.

"Yes, Ron?" Lord Greengrass asked, and Ron gave him a curious look. He's been so zoned out today. Guess the Order invitation is the only real thing that he can focus on.

"Time for lunch?" Ron asked, and Lord Greengrass nodded.

"Of course," Lord Greengrass said as he stood up. "Come, let's get some food in you." Ron followed his Mentor out of the study, and in full honesty, he was quite hungry right now. "How are my daughters, Ron? Are they doing well?"

"They are, my Lord," Ron replied, his mind drifting towards Daphne. Merlin, I haven't kissed my own girlfriend since… Since the funeral. "Astoria is putting more effort into her education, while Daphne is… Daphne."

"Daphne is Daphne?" Lord Greengrass asked. "Have… Have you two started…?" Oh shite, what do I say?

"Not yet," Ron lied, and unsurprisingly, Lord Greengrass looked relieved. "We've both been really busy."

"With young Malfoy?" Lord Greengrass asked, and Ron blinked at him. "Your parents told me." Of course they did.

"So… Are you angry too?" Ron asked.

"I don't like that boy, I will not deny that," Lord Greengrass started. "But if he really did go after Blaise like that, I can understand why you've chosen this path." They told him about Blaise as well. "I must also confess that I did not think the Malfoy brat to be capable of such a move. He always came across as a cowardly imp to me."

"Desperate people do desperate things," Ron shrugged, and Lord Greengrass managed a weak smile.

"Well said, Ron," Lord Greengrass nodded in approval. "Just make sure that he stays away from my daughters. I want you to watch over them both, do you understand?" He's scared for them.

"I will, I promise," Ron said as they entered the Dining Room, and Ron's eyes immediately went towards the two heads of red hair. Mum? Dad? Ron and Lord Greengrass both cocked their eyes at the Weasleys, Lovegoods, and Sirius, who were all sitting on the table with Mary.

"We have guests, husband," Mary announced, while Ron and Lord Greengrass walked over to their usual seats.

"Hey, kid," Sirius smiled at Ron, but Ron didn't smile back. His fucking Godson is another headache that I need to deal with.

"Is everything alright?" Ron asked everyone, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable because of the sorry looks that he was getting from everyone. "Um… Why are you all looking at me like that?"

"Percy sent this…" Arthur spoke up, a slightly crumpled letter in his hands.

"And Ginny sent this," Molly added, she too had a letter.

"Great…" Ron rolled his eyes, and his parents blinked at him. "So? What did they say? Have I contaminated the Weasley Bloodline by simply being born?" It was hard to hide the bitterness in his voice, though he did try to for their sakes.

"Percy told us what happened," Arthur sighed out. "And Ginny told us what happened. The problem is that their letters are both telling us different stories…"

"Did Ginny really call you a traitor?" Molly asked, ignoring her son's previous comments.

"No," Ron shook his head, and she looked visibly relieved. "She called me a 'fucking traitor'."

"Ron, language!" Pandora and Mary scolded at the same time.

"It's what she said," Ron told them calmly, while his parents both rubbed their faces. "They've turned on me… Again."

"How could she say something like this, Arthur?" Molly muttered, while her husband was simply too disturbed to answer.

"Siblings have fights," Sirius said gently.

"I'm sure they do," Ron said. "But my siblings just need a bloody reason to start calling me a 'Snake', or a 'traitor'." Ron then looked to his parents. "I told you that this would happen. It always happens." And I just can't be bothered with that drama. I've got more important things to worry about than their 'feelings'.

"She says that your friend said some really-" Molly started, but Ron rolled his eyes.

"She deserved what she got," Ron said coldly, making Molly's mouth drop open. "People around the school stood up for me, they called me noble for helping my friend… But my own sister spat on my face. What Tracey did, she did for my honor. My friends are sick of my siblings treating me like dirt, and quite frankly, so am I."

"Have you tried talking to her?" Arthur asked with a tired voice. "You two have always been really close, Ronnie." Don't call me Ronnie. It's Ron, or Ronald.

"We were, until Harry Potter started turning her against me," Ron frowned at Sirius, who blinked at him.

"Harry?" Sirius asked slowly, his eyes darting towards the other confused adults.

"He has once again decided to betray me," Ron told Sirius. "He was spying on me during the Funeral Gathering."

"Shite…" Sirius sighed. You knew? "He mentioned that you locked him in a restroom… I thought that he was just confusing you with the twins."

"You locked Harry away in a restroom?" Molly asked. "At a funeral?!"

"He was following me around like some would-be spy, so I locked him away," Ron shrugged. "And no, I'm not sorry."

"Nor should you be," Mary frowned at Sirius. "Sirius, why is your Godson following Ron around?"

"I… I don't know…" Sirius admitted. "I'll talk to him about this, but I'll need to send an owl. He's on his way towards Hogwarts right now."

"Mr. Potter has an odd way of repaying his debts," Lord Greengrass noted, and Ron frowned a little.

"You'd think me saving his life would make him be a little grateful," Ron all but hissed. "But no… Instead, he's spying on me. And before that, he outright tried to kidnap one of my friends."

"Damn…" Sirius massaged his temples. "I don't know what to do with him sometimes… He's just so… angry all the time… When I didn't believe him about Ron locking him away, he all but yelled at me. Told me that 'no one wants to admit that Ron is'…" he trailed off.

"Is what?" Pandora asked, while Xeno just sat there. Is he holding something under the table?

"He thinks that Ron is 'bad news'… Or some nonsense like that…" Sirius shook his head, and then he looked to Ron. "I'm sorry about this, pup… I'll talk to him, I swear it." Teach your Godson some manners, or We will.

"Just tell him to stay away from Ginny," Ron frowned, and Sirius nodded weakly.

"How are things going with Mr. Malfoy?" Mary asked, she didn't like where this particular conversation was going.

"Horribly," Ron replied. "Every time he opens his mouth, I want to slap him. But at least he hasn't uttered a word about Blood-Supremacy, so that's progress."

"He is simply too weak to speak his mind," Lord Greengrass told Ron. "Don't let your guard down near him, Ron."

"I won't, my Lord," Ron nodded.

"What do you want us to do about Ginny?" Arthur asked, and Ron blinked at him. What does that mean?

"Am I the parent now?" Ron asked in return.

"Ron," Lord Greengrass said blandly, and Ron raised his hands in mock surrender.

"What would you do if I had called Ginny a traitor?" Ron asked his father, who simply looked down at the table with a tired expression. Ron then looked to his mother, who seemed to have already made up her mind.

"We'll write her a letter," Molly told her husband. "She has to apologize for this." Ron cocked his eyebrow at his mother, was she serious? Ginny is not apologizing just because she gets an angry letter.

"Ron, you seem very different today," Pandora noted, she couldn't help but notice his unfriendliness.

"I've just started noticing a pattern lately, that's all," Ron shrugged.

"A pattern?" Xeno asked.

"Nothing seems to go right for me," Ron replied, though he didn't sound very angry about it. And in a way, he wasn't angry. He was just fed up with it. "I try my best in everything, I think of others before I think of myself, and I even sacrificed my favorite place in Hogwarts today for a venomous prick who hates my guts. And yet, despite all of my efforts, people are just so damn… ungrateful…" The adults exchanged slow looks, and then they looked back to Ron, who was just staring at his empty plate. "It's as if people enjoy getting in my way… Or at least, they enjoy getting on my nerves."

"I'll talk to Harry, pup," Sirius reassured him. "Don't take this so personally, it'll only make things worse."

"It's difficult to not take it personally when this rubbish happens on a monthly basis," Ron gave Sirius a deadpan look. "I'm sure that once all of this blows over, Harry will find another reason to start acting like a twat."

"Ron, your language is out of control," Molly snapped. "Stop acting this way at once."

"And I rest my case," Ron turned his deadpan look towards his mother. "Do you people need anything else? Or can I finally continue on with my workday?" Molly stood up at that, a slightly disappointed look on her face.

"We won't keep you any longer then, Ronald," Molly said, and everyone but the Greengrasses stood up. Good, sod off then. Pandora and his father had sorry looks on their faces, while Sirius seemed to be rather upset with his own Godson's actions.

"Here," Xeno said as he handed Ron a black brochure, a weak smile on his face. "It came in the mail this morning." Ron stared the brochure, his eyes fixed on the gold lettering that spelled 'The Quibbler'. The advertisement campaign has started? I… I almost forgot about this. As Ron read the names of his benefactors on the back, the adults slowly left the room. The Longbottom Family. The Greengrass Family. The Zabini Family. The Nott Family. The Lovegood Family. Managed and owned by Ronald Bilius Weasley. Ron missed Mary jerking her head towards Ron, and he also missed his Mentor's gaze fixed on him. Guess Barnabas Cuffe knows now who 'stole' The Quibbler from him. Another fucking headache to deal with…

---

Saturday 3rd October, 1993 (Greengrass Manor – Near Dinnertime)

"I'll see you tomorrow, Lord Greengrass," Ron said as he handed in his conundrums sheet. "I have to admit, I'm really excited about continuing my training with Madam Roberts again."

"Actually…" Lord Greengrass started, an oddly sympathetic look on his face. "She sent me an owl yesterday. Ron, she's been called back to Albania… Something about a riot taking place near the excavation site."

"She…" Ron started, but then he quickly hid his disappointment. "I understand… I'll just wait another week…" The Universe once again fucks me over. I might actually kill someone if I don't catch a break soon.

"Ron, when was the last time you spoke with Madam Pomfrey?" Lord Greengrass asked as he stood up.

"It's been a couple of weeks," Ron replied. "What's Madam Pomfrey got to do with this? Wait… You think I'm getting depressed?"

"Your lack of enthusiasm is hard to miss," Lord Greengrass replied. "And Pandora was right, you have been acting very… different… today."

"It's been a rough month," Ron told his Mentor. "I'm just a bit tired, that's all."

"Don't lose heart, Ron," Lord Greengrass said in his soft voice. "True indifference can destroy a brilliant mind like yours. Just promise me that you'll start seeing Madam Pomfrey again, alright?"

"I… I promise," Ron said slowly, why was his Mentor acting so… compassionate? "I'll be on my way then."

"Very well," Lord Greengrass nodded, his eyes fixed on Ron's. Ron slowly turned around and left the study, only to be stopped by Mary at the fireplaces.

"Ron, do you have a minute?" Mary asked, and Ron gave her a nod.

"For you, always," Ron said, though his dead-tone diminished his charm greatly. "Is everything alright, Mary?"

"I was going to ask you that," Mary smiled at him. "How is school, Ron?" Stop with the pity already. I can't even feel tired without someone crawling into my arse.

"Still shut down," Ron replied, and then he drew in a deep breath. "I'm not depressed, alright? I'm just a bit run-down, that's all. It's been a long month, and my problems keep stacking up by the day. But I'll be fine."

"Alright," Mary nodded, and then she walked up and hugged Ron. Ron just stood there for a second, but when she started rubbing his back, he relaxed considerably. "Pandora was right, you do enjoy being petted."

"I didn't even ask Pandora about her pregnancy," Ron realized, something that made him feel rather guilty.

"It's going well, Ron," Mary assured him, her hand still moving up and down his back. "Your mother is making sure that Pandora wants for nothing."

"That's good," Ron said as he put his arms around her. "I haven't asked Daphne yet…" I have, but honestly, it's like I haven't. We haven't even started talking about us yet. Everything has gone to shite because of Malfoy's presence.

"Take your time, my sweet," Mary said gently. "You two have plenty of time on your hands." No, we don't, and you know it. The war is at our fucking doorstep.

"I should head out," Ron whispered, and Mary slowly let go of him. Ron managed a weak smile for her sake, and then he walked over to the nearest fireplace. "Severus Snape's Office, Hogwarts," Ron called as he tossed the floo-powder into the flames, and when they blazed green, he stepped through them without looking back.

"Why this Blood-Traitor boy, Severus?" came a woman's voice as soon as he stepped into Snape's Office, and Ron looked to see that Snape had a guest. An angry guest, actually. The tall, slim, and beautiful witch turned her blue eyes towards Ron, and her beauty was instantly marred by a look of disgust. Hmmm. A sneering blonde… Must be a Malfoy. Ron, of course, recognized the woman from his vision of Malfoy's death.

"Ronald, this is Narcissa Malfoy. Draco Malfoy's mother," Snape introduced, and Ron gave her a polite bow. I might as well enjoy jarring her. I bet she thinks that I'm some uncouth savage.

"Are you sure, Professor?" Ron asked with a smile. "She looks far too young, and beautiful, to be anyone's mother." Snape's lips twitched upwards for a second, while Narcissa Malfoy's sneer was weakened by her shock. Ron then walked up to her and presented his gloved hand, his eyes fixed on hers. She was helping those children escape in my vision, so I'll give her the benefit of the doubt. She clearly isn't as insane as her husband.

"I would rather not sully my hands by touching you, boy," she suddenly sneered once again, and Ron lowered his hand. "Where is my son?"

"I have no earthly idea," Ron lied calmly. "I have only just returned from work."

"Draco, and your friends, have been missing all day," Snape said, his black eyes scanning Ron. "Where are they? Narcissa wishes to see her son." Is that so? Ron raised his gloved hand again, and the blonde witch blinked at him.

"I'll find your son for you, but not until you give me your hand," Ron said, his tone turning cold. Narcissa Malfoy looked towards Snape, who was just staring at Ron.

"Ronald-"

"If she wants my help, then she needs to show me some common courtesy first," Ron told Snape, who was slightly taken aback by the boy's harsh tone. Ron usually never displayed his colder side in the presence of other people.

"Give. Me. Your. Hand," Ron ordered. Narcissa Malfoy gave him a rather surprised look, and then she slowly put her hand in his. Ron leaned forward and kissed her knuckles, and then he bowed respectfully. The Malfoy matriarch had the decency to give him a tiny curtsy in return, and Ron let go of her ever-tensing hand. "I will go and find him for you." With that, Ron left the confused witch with Snape.

He had rather enjoyed jarring the arrogant witch, especially because he knew that she would no doubt tell her degenerate husband about this. I'll give her a chance to see the light, and if she spits on that chance, then I'll put her in the same shallow grave as her husband. The World would be better off without people like the Malfoys anyway. Ron cast the Disillusionment Charm on himself as he neared the Entrance Hall, and then he made his way up to the seventh floor.

He could hear that the castle was now much livelier, which meant that the students who had left for home were now back. He easily dodged the students moving about the seventh floor, most of them were heading towards the Great Hall for dinner. Once Ron was in front of his Sanctuary's entrance, he paced back and forth. The moment the door appeared, he stepped through it.

"Ron?" the girls called as he shut the door, and once it was closed, he broke his Disillusionment Charm. His friends and Malfoy were sitting in the chairs, and Ron frowned when he saw that Malfoy was sitting in his favorite chair. I'll get Marty to clean that out.

"Weasley, how did you find this place?" Malfoy asked, he almost sounded impressed.

"Your mother is here," Ron said, ignoring Malfoy's question. Malfoy blinked at his response, while the others smirked at Malfoy.

"This should be fun," Tracey said, her smirk turning into a cruel grin.

"Malfoy, you're coming with me," Ron said, and then he looked to his friends. "We'll join you in the Great Hall after Malfoy gets yelled at by his lovely mother." Everyone in the room seemed to be enjoying Malfoy's discomfort, and Ron couldn't blame them. We're all already tired of him hovering around us. They all then walked over to Ron, with Malfoy taking his time. "Did you teach him the Disillusionment Charm?"

"It's only been a day," Blaise replied, but Ron still frowned at Malfoy. "It's not an easy Charm to learn, Ron."

"I'll cast it on you then," Ron told Malfoy, who clenched his jaw at the ground. Feeling humiliated again, cunt? Good.

---

Severus Snape's POV

Saturday 3rd October, 1993 (Snape's Office – Dinnertime)

As soon as the door closed behind Ron, Narcissa turned to face Snape with a mixture of shock and disgust. I should have intervened during that. He's becoming more and more unstable by the day.

"Severus, what was that?" Narcissa asked, he could hear the confusion in her voice. "How is that boy in Draco's year? He's almost as tall as my husband."

"Ronald is… different…" Snape replied in his usual voice. "He is nothing like his Family, is he? Except for the red-hair, and the wild temperament."

"A Weasley in Slytherin," Narcissa grimaced. "I'm sorry that you have to put up with such filth, Severus." Much to his own surprise, he felt a little irritated by her comment.

"It is what it is," Snape drawled, making sure to mask his emotions. "Ronald is useful to the House, and for that, he is well-respected. The boy once earned seventy House Points in one day."

"Seventy?!" Narcissa went slightly wide-eyed.

"Indeed, and no, he is not favored like Potter and his ilk," Snape replied, and Narcissa gave a slow nod.

"Why is my son associating with this boy, Severus?" Narcissa asked. "Tell me the truth." Doing so would betray Draco.

"Draco wishes to dismantle Ronald's standing in the House," Snape replied. "He has already pitted Marcus Flint against Ronald, and will continue to cause disruptions within Ronald's life. And when the time is right, Draco will regain his desired standing within the House." I hope for Draco's sake that he isn't actually planning to go behind Ron's back like this. It will not end well for him.

"So Blaise Zabini was correct," Narcissa sighed. "My son has been usurped by a filthy Blood-Traitor."

"Your son was outmaneuvered, not usurped," Snape pointed out, and Narcissa frowned slightly.

"You don't need to play the role of an unbiased Professor near me, Severus," Narcissa assured him.

"There are ears everywhere," Snape whispered coldly, though he was telling her nothing but the truth. Love blinds people to the truth, just as it turns them into fools. "Since we are friends, I will give you this bit of advice. Do not make an enemy of that boy, he is nothing like his weak-willed father. And he does not forgive easily."

"You make him sound like a threat," Narcissa noticed. For people like you, he is a threat. One that no one has taken any notice of.

"He beat Harry Potter bloody in front of the entire school, and then used Greengrass to strong-arm the Headmaster," Snape told her, and she simply stared at him. "Your son did not tell you this?"

"No, he did not…" Narcissa replied slowly. "He defeated the Boy-Who-Lived?"

"Decimated is the more appropriate word," Snape replied, and Narcissa's eyes darted towards the door.

"And Draco is trying to go up against this… person?" Narcissa asked, her motherly concern coming through. "I thought that the Weasleys were allies of Potter, considering their unyielding love for Dumbledore."

"Like I said, he is not like his Family," Snape told her. He is unlike any human being on this planet. After all, who else can claim to be possessed by a God? I need to work harder on him during our Occlumency lessons.

"You will watch over Draco, won't you?" Narcissa asked, her head turning to face him. "Promise me, Severus."

"I swear it," Snape promised, but she didn't look relieved by his words.

"It's seems that my husband and I are criminally uninformed about the youngest Weasley son," Narcissa said.

"Are you informed on the other Weasley children then?" Snape cocked his eyebrow.

"They are not worth being informed on," Narcissa replied. "They are not in Slytherin, therefore, they are not worth knowing. Tell me, does this boy follow the Old Ways? I couldn't help but notice that he greeted me as a true Pure-Blood would." He did that to get under your skin.

"If you are asking me whether or not he shares our beliefs, I am sorry to inform you that he does not," Snape replied, and Narcissa immediately looked disappointed. "He is still a Weasley, despite his different outlook on things."

"What a waste," Narcissa drawled. "Imagine Arthur Weasley's horror if his youngest son turned out to be one of us."

"Us? I am not a Pure-Blood, Narcissa," Snape reminded her.

"You're as good as," Narcissa told him. Snape stared at her for a few seconds, and then he looked towards the door. How do I even begin to turn her Family against the Dark Lord? Lucius will never abandon his beliefs, while Draco and Narcissa will never abandon him. "Severus, what are you thinking about?"

"When will Lucius return from his trip?" Snape asked. "It's been too long since we shared a meal together."

"The moment he returns, I will send you an owl," Narcissa smiled at him, and he gave her a curt nod.

A sudden knock at the door stopped their conversation, and Snape noticed Narcissa suddenly composing herself.

"Professor Snape, it's me," came Ron's voice. "I found him."

"Come in," Snape said, and the door swung open. Oddly enough, no one was there. The Disillusionment Charm. It seems to be a favorite of his. Ron suddenly appeared in the middle of the Office, and then, so did Draco.

"My word," Narcissa blinked at the two boys. He has once again broken through her calm demeanor. He's doing this on purpose.

"Hello, mother," Draco said calmly, and Snape mentally approved of his tone.

"I will wait outside," Ron said, and just like that, he turned around and left the Office. The moment the door closed behind him, Narcissa walked up and hugged her son.

"My little Dragon," she whispered, her worries forgotten for a moment. "Let me look at you." Narcissa then looked Draco over, a smile appearing on her face. "Your hair looks much better now, Draco."

"Thank you," Draco managed a smile back, though it looked forced. "How are you, mother? And how is father?"

"I am well, and your father is still out of the country," Narcissa replied, her hand caressing the side of her son's face. "You are looking even more frail, my love." She then looked to Snape. "How much does he eat?"

"Mother…" Draco sighed, but she merely tutted him.

"He has been neglectful of proper nutrition," Snape replied truthfully, and Narcissa shot her son a disapproving look.

"You will take better care of yourself, Draco," Narcissa ordered. "Or I will inform your father. Understood?"

"Yes, mother," Draco gave a weak nod. "Can we talk about Weasley now? Dinner's already started, and I'm quite hungry."

"Severus has told me of your plan," Narcissa said, and Draco shot a quick look towards his Godfather. Snape gave him a subtle nod, and so Draco looked back to his mother.

"I will do to him what he did to me," Draco told his mother. "Once I'm done, I'll have the respect owed to the Malfoy name, and Weasley will be shunned by the House."

"This plan can work, Narcissa," Snape assured her, though he knew that it wouldn't. I can't let it. "Ronald is distracted by Marcus Flint, and Draco will have my help."

"I just hate the thought of you being near that Blood-Traitor," Narcissa told her son.

"You have to convince father for me, mother," Draco beseeched. "I can't have him interfering with my affairs, or my plan could fail."

"Interfering?" Narcissa blinked.

"Draco is trying to stand on his own," Snape cut in, and Narcissa looked to him. "He wishes to be himself, and not just his father's clone. You must let him do this alone, Narcissa." The blonde witch looked back to her son, and his firm expression took her by surprise.

"Very well," Narcissa couldn't help but smile, her son was growing up so quickly. "I will do what I can, my love."

---

Hermione Granger's POV

Saturday 3rd October, 1993 (The Great Hall – Dinnertime)

She kept thinking about her conversation with Ron, despite the fact that her two best friends had finally returned to Hogwarts. It was a jarring experience for her to be called out in such a manner, which is why it had left such an impression on her. Ron had told her some rather disturbing facts about her actions last year, and even though she didn't think highly of Ron's friends, the fact that she had hurt them didn't sit right with her.

How had she not realized that they may have hurt people with that explosion? Hermione knew of her own intelligence, and yet she hadn't figured out such a simple thing. At the time, none of them had even thought about the consequences of their actions. The Heir of Slytherin was rampaging through the school, and they had decided to put an end to it. The explosion was meant to be a distraction, and so none of them had really thought about the consequences. It was a means to an end, but now she was struggling with a heavy amount of guilt.

She had caused second degree burns on people… She, Harry, and Neville had hurt their fellow students horribly, and yet, none of them had thought of that. How many other stunts had they pulled over the last two years which had resulted in problems for other people? Hermione had made a short list of her worst sins so far, and surprisingly, she could see a pattern that disturbed her.

They had involved Ron in their Dragon business, and even though he offered to hand himself over, they had prioritized the Stone's protection over their friend. They had decided to go after the Stone themselves, which had ended with Ron being left in a coma. They had decided to investigate their own friend before even approaching him, which had strained their relationship with said friend ever since. They were guilty of labeling Ron as the Heir, especially Neville and Harry, which had caused Ron and his friends considerable issues. They had caused injuries to Ron's friends, and when he had lashed out in response, they had seen only his crimes whilst ignoring their own.

Ron was right to call her a 'self-righteous hypocrite', because right now, she definitely felt like one. Ron, of course, wasn't blameless either, but not everything was his fault. She was starting to see that, and judging by Neville's behavior this year, her friend had also come to see that. Was this the reason why Neville had become so tolerant of the Slytherins so suddenly? Hermione and Harry had figured that Neville was just a kindhearted individual, but maybe the real reason why he had become so tolerant was because he had come to understand something that Hermione and Harry had never even considered. That maybe, just maybe, they weren't the 'good guys'. Everyone was the protagonist of their own story, right?

It made sense to blame Ron's ever-changing behavior on Slytherin House, but maybe he was drifting closer to Slytherin because everyone else kept pushing him away. His friends, despite being obnoxious and rude, were clearly very loyal to him. Maybe they weren't really his 'lackeys', but rather a never faltering source of support and comfort. Which would also explain why he was so protective of them. After all, if anyone went after Harry or Neville, Hermione would make it her life's mission to go after the culprit.

After spending a day looking at herself objectively, she couldn't help but feel disappointed in herself. And it wasn't only because she had hurt people and never apologized for it, but also because she was acting no better than the bigots that she was so keen to prove wrong. She was, God help her, prejudiced against an entire House of people simply because a few of them had hurled hurtful slurs at her. She was behaving like the Muggle-Born version of Draco Malfoy, and that sickened her. She didn't even know anything about Ron's friends, and yet she disliked them. And now that she thought about it, it completely boggled her mind.

In a way, this realization had also helped explain her recent anger towards Harry. Some part of her, even if it was unknown to her at the time, couldn't condone what her friend was doing. Harry was deluding himself into believing that he alone had a deeper understanding of who Ron 'really was', and Hermione knew that his actions stemmed from an ugly emotion.

Harry was jealous of Ron's bond with Dumbledore and Sirius, and so he was acting like some territorial beast in response. She, of course, could understand her friend's hurt because he clearly felt neglected by two of the only three adults that he had ever looked up to, but now she was starting to realize that Ron wasn't to blame for this. Ron was just living his own life, and Harry was the one going after him.

Harry was the only one out of the 'Golden Trio' that hadn't begun to realize that they too were prejudiced. Harry's distaste when it came to Slytherin rivalled Hermione's own, and that distaste was evident in all the members of Gryffindor. That thought bothered her greatly, especially because it challenged her pride in her House. Ginny called Ron a traitor, while members of the other Houses respected Ron's decision to protect his friend. The only people who are angry with Ron are from Gryffindor, and they don't even know him. I… I was angry too…

"There, see," came Ginny's voice, and Hermione broke out of her thoughts. "He's now chums with Malfoy of all people…" Hermione looked up to see Harry staring at Ron and Malfoy, both of whom had just entered the Great Hall.

"Harry, I've told you why he's invited Malfoy into his group," Hermione spoke up, but Harry just kept staring at Ron and Malfoy. "He's looking out for his friend, something that we'd do ourselves." Hermione then looked towards Neville, who was just eating his food quietly.

"What if this story about Zabini's 'debt of gratitude' is a hoax?" Harry asked, his eyes landing on Hermione.

"Harry, you're trying to grasp at straws here," Hermione told him. His conspiracy theories never end. "I've asked some of the Pure-Blood Gryffindors, and they told me that no Pure-Blood would ever lie about such a debt. And no, don't say that Slytherins are natural born liars, Harry… That's just insane." Harry blinked at her, and then he looked back towards Ron.

"Hermione, what's gotten into you?" Ginny asked, she looked genuinely confused. "You've been acting so strange ever since yesterday. You told me that you didn't like Ron being friends with Malfoy, but now you're just ignoring it. What happened yesterday?" I looked in the mirror, that's what happened.

"I just don't feel like dismantling Ron's every decision anymore," Hermione replied. "Maybe you should just talk to him, Ginny."

"What's there to talk about?" Ginny frowned. "He clearly wants to befriend the enemy… He's even brought Malfoy into 'his' study group." Something clicked in Hermione head at that, and she immediately looked towards Ron. The study group… He invites everyone to join, no matter which House they're from. Is he really trying to promote House Unity? I mean, he comes from a very tolerant Family, and his experience in Slytherin might have shown him the prejudices faced by everyone. After all, he did show me how hypocritical I've been.

"Hermione? Are you there?" Harry asked, and Hermione blinked at him. "I know that look… What did you just figure out?"

"I'm rejoining the study group next week," Hermione said, and both Harry and Ginny gaped at her. I want to be part of the solution, not the problem. Hermione then looked to Neville with a soft smile, and he slowly looked up from his plate. "Do you want to come with me, Neville? I don't want to be alone there."

"Yeah, I'll come," Neville nodded weakly, and then he went back to his food. Unlike me, Neville identified and confronted his own bigotries all by himself. He didn't need anyone to point out his hypocrisy. Hermione's smile grew a little wider, she could feel her respect for her best friend growing. Neville had been bullied the most by the Slytherins, and yet he was the first to take on a more tolerant stance. That alone proved just how brave Neville really was. To think that I was angry with him for standing up for Ron's friends. Neville was being nothing but fair, and even kind.

"You can't be serious, Nev," Harry said, his eyes fixed on his best friend.

"I don't plan to talk to Malfoy, so what's the harm?" Neville shrugged tiredly. "I'll just study with Hermione."

"Or we could join the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs?" Hermione suggested, and even Neville looked slightly confused by her words. "We'd get more done with other people, right?" Why didn't I join the others back when this group first started? God… It was because I didn't want to be near Ron's friends. She wanted to yank her own hair out right now, how could she have never seen this? It's no wonder that Ron's been drifting away from us, we keep pushing him and his friends away.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Neville asked slowly. "You look quite… distraught…"

"I'm… I'm fine," Hermione muttered, though she felt like someone had dunked her in a tub filled with ice-cold water. Why was it so difficult for her to admit that she might have been wrong about something? "How are you doing, Neville? I never asked."

"I don't know," Neville all but whispered. "I'm just trying to manage… I'm actually looking forward to doing my homework tomorrow, isn't that weird?"

"There's nothing weird about wanting to be distracted," Hermione assured him, and Neville gave her the tiniest of smiles. "Let's study together, alright?"

"Sure," Neville nodded, and then he looked to Harry. "You should join us. We've still got homework from before the break."

"I can't," Harry said. "We have Gryffindor tryouts tomorrow. Oliver wants to get a head start on the other teams this year."

"But the break hasn't even ended yet," Hermione said. "Shouldn't he wait until…? Until everyone is better coping with everything that's happened?" I should think before I speak about the fire near Neville.

"That's what we all thought too, but he's really enthusiastic about Quidditch," Harry sighed, though he was looking forward to flying his broom again. "Ginny, are you going to try out? You're a second year now, so you're allowed to join the Gryffindor Team."

"I… I don't know about that," Ginny replied weakly.

"You practice all the time," Harry reminded her. "What's the harm in trying out?"

"You should do it," Hermione encouraged. Maybe it'll help her channel her anger in a positive way.

"I… Alright," Ginny nodded weakly, she suddenly looked quite unsure of herself. Hermione couldn't help but notice that Ginny's right hand was now frantically massaging her left forearm. Actually, I've noticed her doing that a lot. What an odd habit. Ginny's eyes darted towards the Slytherin table for a moment, and then she hid her left arm under the table. Yeah, that's definitely weird.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 3rd October, 1993 (The Great Hall – End of Dinner)

"I'm just saying," Theo went on as they began exiting the Great Hall. "If they wanted to keep us in Hogwarts, they could easily Conjure up a massive fence. But nooo… They had to put a bloody Forbidden Forest around a school full of children."

"At least you've never been forced to enter it," Malfoy said, and Theo frowned at him for talking. Ron, however, shot Malfoy a knowing look. The Dark Lord. That's when I first faced him.

"Maybe you should've stayed there," Millie said to Malfoy, who clearly bit back a savage retort. I wonder if Marty had time to fulfil my request from this morning. Probably. He's never once let me down.

"Ron, can I talk you?" came Hermione's voice, and Ron stopped near the steps leading to the Moving Staircase. What now? Ron turned to see Hermione and Neville looking at him, while Ginny and Harry hovered in the back with frowns aimed at Malfoy.

"What can I do for you?" Ron asked, ignoring the students walking past them all.

"I wanted to apologize," Hermione said, and then she looked at everyone but Malfoy. "To all of you, that is…" Huh?

"What?"

"Pardon?"

"Why?"

"Please, do grovel," Theo smirked, and Ron shot him a frown. "What?"

"Hermione, please go on," Ron said, he liked where this was going. I see a chance at peace between our groups. Ron's eyes darted towards Neville, who had originally brought up the idea of a 'peace talk'. Is this his doing?

"I'm sorry about the cauldron explosion last year," Hermione said, and Ron could hear that she was struggling. "Ron told me that you all got hurt, and I never thought about that. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry as well," Neville added on, and Ron's friends looked to Ron. He simply looked back at them, accepting Hermione and Neville's apology was their choice. Daphne suddenly drew in a deep breath, and then she looked to the Gryffindors.

"We accept your apology," Daphne said, and the two Gryffindors merely nodded. "Shall we go, Ron?"

"Right," Ron said, and he shot Neville and Hermione a weak smile. With that, the Slytherins departed for their common room.

"That was… odd…" Tracey noted, and the others nodded their agreement. "When did you talk to her, Ron?"

"Yesterday," Ron replied, he felt a little better because of their apology. Hopefully we can maintain this sort of behavior.

"Just yesterday?" Tracey asked, and Ron looked to her. "It's just… Well, she apologized the day after then. That's… That's quite responsible of her."

"How could she possibly not think that an explosion could have hurt people?" Theo asked.

"She probably didn't give it a second thought," Millie shrugged. "But now that she knows, she's apologized. We should just take it and put this Trio problem to bed. We already have enough problems to deal with as it is."

"I second that," Ron said, and the others simply nodded. But Harry is the real problem here. Hopefully his friends will help him move past spying on me. If I antagonize him now, Neville and Hermione might change their tunes again. And then, there's Ginny…

"Still… I never imagined that Hermione Granger of all people would ever apologize to me," Pansy said. "It felt nice."

"You just enjoyed the sight of her humbling herself," Blaise said, and Pansy gave him a wink.

"There's nothing wrong with enjoying someone apologizing to you," Pansy smirked, and then she looked to Ron. "Are we going to start being friends with them now?"

"If you want to be friends with them, then go ahead," Ron replied. "Just don't be hostile. Ever. I'm tired of the Trio finding reasons to get in our way."

"Ron, are you alright?" Daphne asked. "You seem a little cold today."

"That's what I've been told," Ron sighed out. "Don't worry, I'm fine."

"Blood," Theo said to the entrance, and it slid aside for them. "She's got a point, mate. You barely spoke during dinner."

"Had nothing to say," Ron shrugged, his eyes darting towards their spot. Flint and his gang were once again occupying it, and Ron couldn't even bring himself to frown. Is this seriously his way of 'getting under my skin'?

"There you are," Clara said as she suddenly walked up in front of them. "Come with me."

"Just me?" Ron asked, while his friends just stared at her.

"All of you," Clara replied, and then she looked to Malfoy. "Even you." Even Malfoy? What's this about? They all began following Clara towards the new Training Area, and once they were inside, they found Carey and Samantha waiting for them.

"Where have you all been today?" Carey asked them, her voice wasn't silky this time around.

"I was at work," Ron replied, and then he looked to Daphne.

"We were in the abandoned North Wing," Daphne lied, her entire demeanor as cold as ice. "May we ask what this is about?"

"The Group Tournament," Samantha replied. "We've picked the teams, and Professor Snape has signed off on them."

"So the Dueling Club is about to start?" Ron asked, he suddenly felt a little excited.

"It starts on the twenty-fifth of October," Carey replied, her eyes didn't show her usual fondness for him. They're cold. Whatever. "Professor Lupin has decided to hold the Year-Based Tournament first, and the second years will be the first to compete. After that, it'll be you lot. And so on. The first set of the Tournament will determine the quarter-finalists from each year, and the second set will determine the winners. Your year level will have twelve quarter-finalists."

"Once the Year-Based Tournament is completed, the Group Tournament will begin," Samantha told them. "And we've picked each year's teams. Your year's team will consist of Ronald, Theodore, Blaise, Millicent, and Malfoy." Malfoy?

"I didn't put my name down for the Group Tournament," Malfoy told them.

"That's weird," Clara giggled. "Your name was on the sheet when it was handed in. Isn't that odd?" Wow.

"You displayed decent skill in the ranked matches, Malfoy," Carey said coldly. "We are giving you a chance to fall back into our good graces. You ought to take it."

"He will," Ron told everyone, and then he looked to Malfoy. Please, you cunt, make my life a little easier.

"Fine," Malfoy frowned at Ron, who just looked back to the Triumvirate.

"That's all you need to know for now," Clara said, her usual smile on her face. "Goodnight." Ron and his friends, and Malfoy, turned to leave, but the Triumvirate had other plans.

"Not you, Ronald," Carey said, and Ron turned back to face them. "We need a word with you."

"Alright," Ron said, and then he shot Daphne a meaningful look. Don't go too far.

"We'll be right outside," Daphne said, and then she led the others outside. Mind-reader. Ron looked back to the Triumvirate, and he decided to wait until they spoke up.

"How confident are you in your ability to win the Rank A Grand Tournament?" Carey asked.

"Pretty confident," Ron replied, his eyes darting towards Samantha. "I was surprised to learn that only Selwyn made it into Rank A, I had all of you pegged for it."

"Selwyn?" Samantha cocked an eyebrow.

"You called me 'Weasley', remember?" Ron reminded her. "You want to act cold, I can act cold too."

"We deliberately lost a match each, and we held back," Carey told him, and Ron was a little surprised by that. "This way, Clara and I can work to secure three hundred points from Rank B, while you and Samantha work to win us five hundred points from Rank A."

"Divide and conquer," Ron said, a slight smile appearing on his face. "Smart. And if we end up going against each other?"

"Then let the better witch, or wizard, win," Clara replied, she looked as though she wanted to smile at him but was holding back.

"How are things with Malfoy?" Carey asked, and Ron blinked at her. She only cares about the Group Tournament, doesn't she?

"He'll be ready when the times comes, so don't worry about that," Ron said, and she nodded slowly. "Anything else?"

"No, Ronald," Carey said in barely a whisper. "Goodnight." Ron turned around and left at that, his mind set on winning all of his matches. And it's not for them. I'll help them when they decide to help me for a change.

"What did they want?" Tracey asked him as he came up the small steps.

"They have a plan, and I'm to play the good little soldier," Ron shrugged. "I'm tired, so I'm heading off for the night." Ron then looked to Malfoy. "That means you too, Malfoy."

"You're giving me a bedtime now?" Malfoy frowned.

"I'll give you a fucking broken jaw if you frown at me again, you little cunt," Ron suddenly snapped, something that made everyone take a step away from him. "Ungrateful fuck." With that, Ron started heading for his room. Constantly frowning at me while I'm getting treated like shite on his behalf. I can't even celebrate Daphne and me dating because of his mess. He could hear Theo, Blaise, and Malfoy walking behind him, and once he entered his room, he went straight for his bed.

"Goodnight, Ron," Theo said.

"Goodnight, Theo and Blaise," Ron said, and then he closed the curtains of poster-bed. Ron then sat down on his bed and massaged his forehead, he could feel a headache coming on. Let's see if Marty delivered it. Ron then reached under his pillow, and much to his joy, he felt a leather tome. Ron pulled it out, and he eyed it carefully. The tome on Curses that I bought from Victor. It is past time that I started learning from it. I mean, I did spend sixty Galleons on this.

"I bet this would satisfy Harry and Ginny," Ron whispered to himself, his left land feeling the black leather. "Ronald Weasley… Aspiring Dark Wizard… That's what they'd label me…" Ron's eyes blazed red for a moment, though he didn't realize it. "I'll show them all when I've saved them. I'll prove my loyalty a thousand times over. 'If you can't have their love, then you better have their respect'."

---

Sunday 4th October, 1993 (The Boys' Room – Midday)

"Ron, wake up," came Daphne's voice, and Ron grunted as he turned on his other side. "Seriously, Ron… It's midday. Wake up!" She began shaking him, and Ron frowned as soon as his eyes opened.

"What? What is it?" Ron mumbled as he leaned up on his elbows.

"It's midday, Ron," Daphne repeated, her blurry image slowly becoming clearer. Midday?

"I missed breakfast?" Ron yawned, and Daphne nodded. "Fuck…"

"Don't cuss so casually," Daphne scolded. "I really dislike it."

"Uh-huh," Ron nodded as he cleared his eyes with his right hand. No glove? Ron's eyes shot wide-open at that, and he looked to his bedside table in a hurry. Where is it?!

"Here," Daphne said, she was holding the glove in her hand. "The others aren't here, by the way. They're up at the Sanctuary."

"Right," Ron said as he took the glove, and then he put it on in a hurry. That's better. That's so much better.

"You know, I don't mind the scar…" Daphne whispered, and Ron blinked at her. The look on her face was a mixture of understanding and sympathy, but it only served to irritate him.

"I mind it," Ron said, and then he fully sat up. "You all went to breakfast without me?"

"Theo tried to wake you up, but apparently, you took a swing at him," Daphne replied, and Ron nodded slowly. "Don't worry, Flint would never be so bold as to come after us in public."

"He's an idiot," Ron reminded her. "Idiots do idiotic things."

"My boyfriend the philosopher," Daphne giggled, and despite feeling tired and grumpy, his lips jerked upwards. "That's better, Ron. You should smile when you wake up, it'll make your day much better."

"Do you wake up with a smile?" Ron asked.

"I usually wake up because Tracey starts singing in the morning," Daphne replied. "So no… I usually wake up with a pained expression." Ron snorted at that, his smile widening. Wait… I can't kiss her. I have morning breath. That'd be so gross for her.

"I'm gonna go freshen up," Ron said as he slid off of his bed, and Daphne was quite taken aback by his sudden actions. "I'll take a shower and get ready…" I was talking to her with morning breath! "I'll be right back!"

"What the…?" Daphne muttered, but Ron had already entered the bathroom.

---

Twenty Minutes Later

Ronald Bilius Weasley was a fool. No… He was the king of fools. A moronic twat that couldn't even think twenty minutes ahead. He had run away from Daphne because of his 'morning breath', but now he was standing in front of the bathroom mirror in his towel, with no fresh clothes in sight. He could, of course, wear his pajamas again, but he really didn't want to. He had just washed up, and wearing his sweaty pajamas again would defeat the purpose of showering.

"Marty," Ron called, and a soft popping sound emanated from behind him.

"Master called Marty?" Marty bowed deeply, and Ron turned to face him. Marty was kind enough to keep his eyes fixed on Ron's, the Elf clearly understood that Ron hated the scars marring his body.

"Marty, this is going to sound stupid, but I need you to get me something fresh to wear from my trunk," Ron said, and Marty beamed for some reason.

"Marty is happy to help!" Marty said a little too loudly.

"Ron?" came Daphne's voice from outside, and Ron's panicked eyes darted towards the door. "Is someone in there with you?"

"It is just Marty, Mistress!" Marty called out, and Ron slapped his own forehead. Merlin, why?

"Marty?!" Daphne called. "What are you doing in there?! Isn't Ron showering?!"

"Master has no fresh clothes to wear!" Marty called out, and Ron quickly shushed his Elf.

"Marty, don't tell her that," Ron whispered frantically, his face heating up.

"Oh… Apologies, Master," Marty whispered back. "Marty was lying Mistress! Master does have-"

"Marty, please stop," Ron begged, and Marty closed his mouth.

"Ron, I know that you didn't take any clothes with you," Daphne said, and Ron felt the need to dunk his own head in the toilet. I'll fucking drown myself. That'll save me from this moment.

"Marty, please get me some clothes," Ron groaned, and Marty disapparated immediately. Ron turned to stare at his reflection again, his slightly wet hair hanging just over his eyes. My sides and back are short enough, but the hair on top of my head is getting a little long. Maybe I should get another haircut from Pansy? Ron then looked to his chest, and much to his surprise, he noticed that the scar on his chest looked… agitated.

"What the fuck?" Ron whispered, his left hand tracing the long diagonal scar. The outskirts of the scarred tissue was red and slightly swollen, and when Ron pressed a little, he felt a jolt of pain spread throughout his chest. "Ow… What's wrong with it?" I'll show Pomfrey tomorrow when we have our session. "Bloody hell…" Marty suddenly popped into the bathroom, fresh clothes held in his hands.

"Marty has picked this out, Master," Marty bowed as he presented Ron with his clothes.

"Thanks, Marty," Ron said as he took the clothes. "It's perfect."

"Marty is happy to help, as always," Marty said, and then he shot a quick look towards the door. "Mistress saw Master's undergarments…"

"Huh?" Ron blinked, and Marty gave him a sheepish smile.

"Marty made a mistake," Marty whispered, and Ron sighed in defeat. Fantastic start to my morning. Wait… My midday?

"It's alright… Thanks for the save, Marty," Ron said, and Marty nodded fervently. "Enjoy the rest of your day, mate."

"You too, Master," Marty beamed at being called 'mate', and then he disapparated with a deafening crack. The noise… He gets so excited so quickly. Ron quickly dressed himself, and after brushing his teeth, he made his way outside. Daphne was sitting on his bed, her hands resting in her lap.

"You have pink underwear?" Daphne suddenly asked with a shocked look, and Ron blinked at her.

"No, I don't," Ron replied.

"I saw it, Ron," Daphne sighed dramatically. "I'm not judging you… To each their own, I say."

"Come off it," Ron shook his head, while she shot him a playful smirk. "Sorry about the wait, Daphne."

"It's alright," Daphne shrugged, and then she beckoned him towards her. Ron walked up and sat down to her left, and she quickly clung to his side. "Finally! I've been waiting for days to do that!"

"I get what you mean," Ron said, he immediately felt better because of her hug. "I'm sorry that we haven't had the chance to tell anyone."

"I hate it, but I understand," Daphne replied. "I personally don't believe that we should be making a big deal about it right now… Especially with Flint and the Triumvirate being unhappy with us."

"Yeah…" Ron muttered. "I just figured that you'd want to tell everyone." I want to.

"I do, but we need to focus on the problem at hand," Daphne replied, and then she let go of him. "By the way, something really fantastic happened this morning."

"Really?" Ron asked, his disappoint immeasurable at being let go of. I'm so clingy that it makes me sad.

"Owls flew into the Great Hall, and they dropped The Quibbler's brochures everywhere," Daphne smiled at him, and Ron let out a weak chuckle. "Everyone's talking about The Quibbler, and its new owner. Poor Luna was interviewed by half of the school right outside of the Great Hall, and your brother had to pretty much kidnap Luna to save her from her interrogators."

"Whoops," Ron smiled weakly. Wait… Just my brothers? "And… And Ginny?"

"She was helping Luna as well," Daphne said softly, and then she scooted over and planted herself in his lap. Ron quickly put his arms around her to steady her, the last thing he wanted was for her to fall over. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Ron asked, but he knew what she meant.

"About you being really sad ever since your fight with Ginny," Daphne replied, she knew that he was playing ignorant.

"I'm not sad," Ron quickly denied. "Why would I be sad? She's the one with the problem." I'm not sad whatsoever. I'm just not.

"So you don't want to talk about it?" Daphne asked, and Ron shook his head.

"No, I don't," Ron replied, and Daphne gave him a nod. "I'd much rather talk about us." Please let me change the subject.

"Really?" Daphne asked. "And what do you want to talk about?"

"Why don't we just tell our friends?" Ron asked, and Daphne blinked at him. "Who cares what Malfoy thinks? I don't like how things are going… I want to sit with you, and stuff…" Didn't stick the landing there, Ron.

"And stuff?" Daphne smirked, and Ron just nodded like a moron.

"You know… Hold hands, and stuff…" Ron muttered. Once again, nice landing…

"You're so cute," Daphne couldn't help but giggle, and Ron felt his ears burn. "You don't want to give me kisses in public?"

"Well, not in front of a crowd… But maybe just a peck when we see each other… Like the other couples at this school…" Ron replied with an embarrassed look. "Ugh… Forget it…"

"And how do we tell our friends?" Daphne asked, she hadn't teased him for too long. "I still like the idea of just snogging in front of them out of the blue."

"I'm trying to be serious here," Ron whispered. "I… I don't like that Ernie asked you out, Daph… That's two people now, and since you're… you, there will be a lot more in the Future…" Ronald Weasley, the woman in this relationship. I should start wearing a dress.

"Are you saying that I'm beautiful?" Daphne hummed, her playful smirk still in place.

"I don't really have to say it," Ron sighed out, and Daphne's smirk turned into a smile. "Everyone can see-" Ron tried to go on, but Daphne surprised him with a kiss. Oh. Well, that was nice.

"Want to snog?" Daphne asked, her smile almost predatory.

"Yes," Ron said immediately.

"Alright, we've got about ten minutes before people start looking for me," Daphne told him. "I told the group that I'd bring you straight up to the Sanctuary."

"How could you limit us like this?" Ron smirked.

"Shush, snogging time," Daphne shushed him, and then she planted her lips against his. After a few quick pecks, they both threw caution to the wind.

---

Twenty Minutes Later

Ron had regained some of his spirit, and although he was embarrassed to admit it, he knew that he wanted to spend the rest of the day with just Daphne. Sadly, they had both decided to keep their relationship a secret for a few more days. Just until they figured out how to tell people. Ron found it quite odd that he was pushing so hard for this, when at the beginning, he had been delaying it as much as possible. There was only one explanation for this. Daphne is using a Love Potion on me!

"Ron, why are you staring at me like that?" Daphne asked, they were both standing in front of the entrance to the Sanctuary. The Gryffindors had their Quidditch tryouts today, which meant that most of the Gryffindors had deserted the castle.

"I'm onto you," Ron narrowed his eyes on her, and she blinked at him. "I'm onto you…"

"You're so weird," Daphne giggled, and Ron's lips twitched upwards. Damn, her giggling is so infectious. "C'mon, let's go inside."

"Ugh!" Ron groaned loudly, and Daphne sighed.

"Ron, we can't spend the day hidden away from them," Daphne told him.

"I want to spend my day with you," Ron said miserably. "I don't want to see Malfoy's cunt face near me."

"Merlin, Ron… Language…" Daphne grimaced, no normal person spoke like this.

"I bet all vaginas resemble Malfoy's face…" Ron said in disgust, and Daphne had to hold back a gag.

"That's enough for me," Daphne said, and then she quickly made her way inside. Ron sulked for a few seconds, and then he followed her inside.

"Finally!" Pansy called, and Ron put on a smile. "We've been waiting for ages!"

"Ron wanted to take a shower," Daphne told them. "I'm pretty sure he fell asleep in the bathroom." Ron and Daphne then walked up to the sandpit, where everyone was. Malfoy was currently Dueling against a dummy, and Ron couldn't help but nod at his quick dodges. Need to teach him to not cast Shield Charms against Death-Eaters.

"He's not bad," Blaise pointed out.

"He never attacks though," Millie said, and then she looked to Malfoy. "Hurry up! The rest of us want a turn too!" Actually, I do want to try that Curse I read about last night. The Bone Shattering Curse: Rumpere.

"Stupefy!" Malfoy chanted as he ducked under a stinger, and his 'opponent' toppled onto its back.

"Try to counter attack after your dodges, Malfoy," Ron advised. "Trust me, I used to keep dodging as well, but it never ends well. Against an actual person, you won't only be dodging stingers." Malfoy didn't say anything, but he did give Ron a curt nod. It's progress, I suppose. Malfoy then walked over to the other side of the pit, making sure to stay away from the others.

"Who wants to go next?" Tracey asked, and Ron stepped forward.

"I want to try out a Spell," Ron said as he used his wand to lift the dummy onto its feet. Now, what was the wand movement again? Pull back, and then thrust forward. Aim for the 'ribcage' for maximum damage. The dummy fired a stinger at him, and Ron stepped to the left as he pulled his wand back. The dummy quickly fired another stinger at him, and this time, Ron stepped to his right as he thrust his wand forward.

"Rumpere," Ron chanted, and a violet jet of light flew out of his wand and struck the dummy's lower stomach. Damn, I missed the ribcage. The dummy's entire torso suddenly collapsed in on where the Curse had landed, and the sound of wood shattering echoed throughout the room. The dummy crumpled onto the ground, its torso twisted and mangled horribly. Merlin! I can't use this in the Dueling Club, it'll kill someone!

"Mother of fuck…" Tracey muttered, all of them were now just staring at the dummy's corpse. "What was that?!"

"Where did you learn that Curse?!" Theo asked, his face showing both his shock and awe.

"From around," Ron replied, his eyes fixed on the dummy's corpse.

"What did it do to the dummy?" Millie asked, she definitely needed to learn this one.

"Basically, the Curse enters the victim and creates a gravitational pull wherever it lands," Ron said, his mind going back to the tome. "And as you can all see… It shatters everything with how much force it uses. It's called the Bone Shattering Curse, or the Bone Crusher Curse, and it's used to mangle one's opponent."

"You can't use this on people, Ron!" Daphne protested. "Look at the dummy! The sides of its stomach are caved in!"

"Well, if I hit someone's leg, it'll be fine," Ron countered, and Daphne just stared at him in utter disbelief. "That was a joke. I won't be using it again." Except on Death-Eaters. Yes… On them, We will definitely use this Curse.

"I just lost my will to train, I think," Pansy muttered, her head slowly shaking. "Poor dummy…"

"Reparo," Ron chanted, and the dummy shook violently as its body started to repair itself. Chunks of wood flew back into their original places, and before everyone knew it, the dummy was standing upright again.

"Yay!" Pansy laughed, her face lighting up like a child. Ha, that was cute. "Can I destroy it next?"

"That's not healthy," Tracey averted her eyes from Pansy, who simply shot her a wink. Ron looked towards Malfoy, and he spotted the Malfoy Heir just staring at him.

"Go on, Pansy," Ron said, his eyes still fixed on Malfoy. "Remember to keep your dodges in check, jumping aside only hinders you. You can do this, Pans. Good luck." She learns best from encouragement and praise, I've got to keep that in mind. Pansy shot him a smile as she took her place, while Ron walked over to Malfoy.

"That Curse you just used," Malfoy started. "That was pure Dart Arts."

"Is that so?" Ron asked with a smirk, but Malfoy wasn't amused.

"I've seen that Curse before, Weasley," Malfoy told him, and Ron lost his smirk.

"Where? Did your father use it on some poor bastard?" Ron asked, a hint of venom in his voice. Malfoy just stared at him for a few seconds, Weasley was quite close to the truth. Draco had seen his father use the Bone Crusher Curse on a disrespectful Elf, and much to Draco's horror, he had seen the mess that was left behind. He had only been six at the time.

"Where did you learn it?" Malfoy asked in response. "There is no way that that old codger would let something this Dark be left in the Library." Old Codger?

"First of all, Malfoy," Ron frowned deeply. "You will speak of the Headmaster with nothing but respect, or there will be consequences. Secondly, why do you care where I learned it from?"

"I don't," Malfoy lied. "What do you want? Why are you talking to me?"

"Are you Malfoys naturally so ungrateful? Or did your parents sign you up for 'How to be a bastard' classes before Hogwarts?" Ron asked, and Malfoy frowned deeply. "Didn't I warn you about frowning at me last night?"

"What do you want, Weasley?" Malfoy asked, his frown disappearing.

"The Triumvirate has given you, and by extension, us, a chance to win back their favor," Ron started. "We need to win the Group Tournament and secure an extra one hundred points for Slytherin, because when we do, they might be willing to help us with Flint."

"I didn't take you for someone who seeks the help of other people," Malfoy baited.

"Which is why you became the House bitch, while I became the favored son," Ron smirked at him. "But, in a way, you're right. I'm fond of the Triumvirate, and their help with Flint would be handy, but if push comes to shove, I'll gladly teach them that their 'status' means nothing to me. Think about it, Malfoy. They're just students at the end of the day, no matter how special they might think themselves."

"My thoughts exactly," Malfoy admitted, and Ron gave him a subtle nod.

"This group's wellbeing is my only concern," Ron went on. "Which is why I'm willing to play by their rules. Having three more enemies doesn't help us, but having three allies does. So, for the group's benefit, you'll start training with us. None of this standing away and brooding in a corner shite, alright?"

"You give a lot of orders, don't you?" Malfoy said, and Ron just stared at him. "You say that the Triumvirate are just students, but you forget that you are one as well. So why do you expect me to listen to your orders, while you blatantly defy other people's authority?"

"Because unlike the Triumvirate, I am helping you," Ron reminded him. "The Triumvirate threw you to Flint, while I've stuck my neck out for you. The least you can do is contribute once in a while."

"You're doing this for Blaise, not me," Malfoy sneered. "I owe you nothing." I need to make him believe that I am, otherwise I'll never get to move on with my own life.

"You know what my first plan was when I heard about your stunt?" Ron asked him, and he waited for Ron to go on. "I planned to beat you bloody, and then leave you in the Forbidden Forest." Malfoy blinked at that. "It's true… Some filthy beast would fill its belly with your corpse, and I'd finally be rid of you. But since murdering people isn't my thing, I thought about scaring you away from Blaise. And believe me, I could do that. I'd tie Blaise to his bed in order to keep him safe, all the while terrorizing you in ways that would make Flint's skin crawl. But despite all of that, I accepted you into the Group. I was the one who convinced my friends to help you."

"You did no such-"

"Ask them," Ron cut him off. "Ask Blaise. It was my idea to bring you into the group."

"Why?" Malfoy glared at him.

"I don't like bullies," Ron shrugged, and Malfoy blinked repeatedly. "Sure, I can be a bully sometimes… But I don't go after people. I only defend myself, and my own, from people who cause me problems simply because they dislike me, or my Family, or my beliefs, or my House."

"You cut off my hair," Malfoy hissed. "You humiliated me, and you used Pansy to do it. She and I have been friends since we were babies."

"I cut off your hair because I dislike your father," Ron told him. "He has wronged me, and my Family. I cut off your hair because I knew that if I ever lost my temper, I'd fucking strangle if you came near me. As for Pansy, I chose her simply because she cuts my hair. I know that she's skilled at it, and I didn't want you to look like some degenerate. And let's not forget that you were quite happy to laugh at the people helping you, all the while hiding behind us like some coward. You might think that you've made some genius move to trap me, but you haven't. I could easily force you into giving Blaise his freedom."

"Then why don't you?" Malfoy demanded, his pale face was turning scarlet.

"You might be a bigoted, selfish, and pompous brat, but you don't deserve to be tortured by a legal adult," Ron replied, everyone knew that Flint had been held back a year. "Flint was taking things too far, and no one was doing anything about it."

"You're so noble," Malfoy scoffed, though his spirit was clearly weakening.

"No, I'm really not," Ron admitted, and Malfoy just stared at him with a slightly bewildered look. "There was a time when I wanted to be, but being noble doesn't get results… Being noble is for people like Harry Potter, who are seen as a symbol of some sort, even when they haven't done anything to earn the respect that they're shown. People who inspire blind loyalty from little girls who turn on their own kin for their hero's attention…" Get a grip, Ron.

"Weasley… What are you on about?" Malfoy asked slowly, his eyes darting towards the others. They were shooting 'subtle' looks towards Ron and Malfoy, and when Malfoy looked to them, they turned their attention towards Tracey's Duel.

"I'm saying that I'm not looking for your 'love' and 'devotion', but I will have your respect," Ron replied, his eyes fixed on Malfoy. "I am helping you, and if you don't start contributing to this group, that help will cease to exist. Whether you like us or not, you are a part of this group now. So… Contribute." Malfoy went to say something, but then he closed his mouth. After a few seconds, Malfoy gave him a curt nod.

---

Sunday 4th October, 1993 (The Sanctuary – Late Evening)

He was moments away from an apocalyptic rage, and everyone knew it. His friends were, of course, used to seeing Ron's outburst of pure frustrated frenzy when he couldn't get something right even after a hundred tries. The last time this had happened was when he was attempting to perfect the Wandless version of Incendio, and in his rage, Ron had start flinging furniture at the walls.

Right now though, he had half a mind to set fire to the Sanctuary. The Wandless Baubillious Charm was giving him more trouble than any Spell before it. He had been trying for weeks to get this damn Spell to work, but all he could manage was white hot sparks that barely traveled further than three meters. Was the increasing distance of the sparks a good sign? Probably. Did Ron give a fuck about having sparky fingers? No! He wanted lightning! He was promised lightning by that accursed book, and he wasn't going to stop until he got it.

"Ron, just give it a rest," Theo said in a calming manner, while Ron just glared at his own left hand. WHY WON'T YOU WORK?! CUNT!

"We've spent the whole day in here," Pansy said, her hair disheveled. "We could all use a break."

"You've been taking a break for the last hour!" Ron yelled at her, and she quickly pretended like she hadn't said anything. "I'm not leaving until this motherfucking Spell works!" Ron then glared back at the dummy, and the blank look on its carved face boiled Ron's blood. Fuck you, you bitch! His friends just looked to each other and shrugged, while Malfoy was genuinely shocked by the fact that they were so used to this sort of behavior.

"We'll be resting on the couches," Millie said, her face marred by grime. As his friends, and Malfoy, left to relax on the couches, Ron once again aimed his left fingers at the dummy.

"Baubillious!" Ron chanted, and his entire left arm felt jittery. And then, the dummy was showered with white hot sparks. "Fuck! Fucking fuck cunt arse fucking bastard bitch boy! FUUUCK! WORK, YOU CUNT!" Ron then let out a throaty roar at the dummy, while his friends held back their laughter at the sheer level of his temper. Sure, they were terrified that he might take it out on them, but when it came to perfecting Spells, Ron's anger was usually reserved solely for the dummies.

"What am I doing wrong?!" Ron yelled at his left hand, the veins in his head popping to the surface. That fucking useless book doesn't even explain how to do it properly! FUCK FLITWICK FOR EVER HANDING IT OVER TO ME! MIDGET CUNT! Ron hurled his wand aside, and then he began pacing side-to-side like some crazed animal. Never in his life had he been so frustrated before.

The scar on his chest had started hurting sometime in the afternoon, and from the moment that dull ache had started, everything was just setting him off. His friends were clearly amused by his lack of progress, and Ron was starting think terrible things. He wanted to put Theo's smirking face in front of him and fire the Reductor Curse at it. He wanted the Entity to show its fucking face to his amused friends, and scare them shitless. He wanted this fucking Spell to just work already!

Ron glared back down at his left hand, and he felt the irrational need to break his own bloody fingers. I fucking deserve it! I've been trying to get this right all day! Weeks wasted on a single fucking Spell that just refuses to work! The pain in his chest suddenly spiked for a moment, and Ron irritably punched his own chest, which only served to cause him even more pain. I'm getting this Spell right this time! Or so help me Merlin, I'll set this fucking room on fire!

"BAUBILLIOUS!" Ron screamed at the top of his lungs, his left hand thrusting forward like a blade. He suddenly felt as if he had a pulsating Sun inside of his chest, and within a flash, he felt all of this Sun's power pass through his left arm. The sound of thunder boomed throughout the Sanctuary, nearly deafening everyone inside, while Ron was hurled back by a searing hot shockwave. By the time Ron stopped rolling through the sand, his ears were ringing so loudly that he couldn't even process a thought.

He then heard muffled yells from all around him, and so he sat up with a dazed expression. He could feel… wind? Yeah, that was definitely wind. Ron looked around the room, but all he could see was darkness. Darkness and muffled screams… That was his entire World right now. Why can't I see anything? Ron blinked repeatedly, his head bobbing back and forth due to his inability to balance it. That's when he suddenly felt someone's hands on him, accompanied by the sound of people screaming something at him.

"I can't see anything…" Ron muttered, his head falling back. "My ears are ringing so loudly…" Whoever was shaking him clearly wanted him to be panicking, but Ron couldn't even think straight. It was as if his brain had been left in a barrel of Lord Greengrass' Apple Brandy for a few years. Ron tried to push his attacker away with his left hand, but it wouldn't move. So Ron tried again. And again. And again. "I can't move my left arm… I… I can't even feel it…"

---

Harry Potter's POV

Sunday 4th October, 1993 (The Quidditch Pitch – Late Evening)

Something wasn't right with him today, and everyone knew it. Harry had woken up to a dull headache, and upon closer inspection, he had found out that his scar was the cause. The skin around it was agitated, and whenever he touched it, it sent a jolt of pain throughout his skull. He knew that his scar was somehow connected to Voldemort, and that whenever it hurt, it meant that the Dark Lord was near.

So Harry had gone to Dumbledore in order to alert him of the possible danger, but Dumbledore had simply assured him that Hogwarts was safe. Harry had believed him, of course. The old wizard had shown Harry nothing but kindness, and in a way, Harry saw him as the Grandfather that he never had. If Voldemort showed his face near Hogwarts again, then Dumbledore would defeat him. Harry was sure of it.

But despite Dumbledore's assurances, the pain in his scar had only gotten worse as the day had progressed. He felt agitated by everything, and everyone. He didn't even understand where his anger was coming from, but it was constantly eating away at him. Hermione's overexcitement about Ron's 'Quibbler' had sent wild waves of annoyance through him, and the fact that Neville had known about it all along made Harry extremely upset. Why wouldn't Neville tell him about this? They were supposed to be best friends! Harry told Neville everything, even when he really didn't want to. He knew that Neville would be hurt if Harry kept things from him, so why couldn't Neville understand that himself?

By the time he had taken to the Pitch for the tryouts, his face was marred by a permanent frown. McLaggen was also there, and he was trying out for Keeper. Keeper! The git wanted to steal Oliver's position, and when Oliver had beaten him in the amounts of goals saved, McLaggen had tried out for Seeker. Harry had easily bested him, but then McLaggen had tried to take the position of Chaser. People kept telling him that he could only tryout for one position, but McLaggen refused to listen. In the end, McLaggen had been made the reserve Chaser simply because he was bigger and stronger than Ginny.

Ginny was obliviously embarrassed, mostly because it fed into her previous insecurity of not being good enough. The twins and Harry had spent the rest of the tryouts glaring at McLaggen, who was trying to be chummy with an annoyed Alicia Spinnet. Harry had even fired some angry glares at Oliver, who had allowed McLaggen to do as he pleased simply because Oliver wanted nothing more than to win the Quidditch Cup. Ginny would have definitely qualified as a reserve Chaser if McLaggen hadn't stolen her spot after failing to secure his own.

"There's always next year, Gin," George patted her back, but that didn't help the miserable look on her face. Her shoulders were slumped forward, her cheeks were hot with embarrassment, and she kept fiddling with her left forearm. I've noticed that she does that quite a lot. They were all walking back towards the Courtyard currently, the weather had turned sour rather quickly.

"I shouldn't have tried out…" Ginny muttered. "What was I thinking?" Harry went to say something, but McLaggen's loud laugh made him grit his teeth. He turned to see McLaggen talking animatedly at Oliver, who was looking quite annoyed with McLaggen's never-ending 'advice'. What a damn tosser. Harry felt his blood boil, but he quickly tried to calm himself down. What's wrong with me? I… I just want to punch something!

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Angelina Johnson piped in. "I thought that you were quite brilliant."

"You've got a solid arm for someone your age," Katie Bell added.

"McLaggen only got it because he has more experience," Fred gave her a comforting smile. "Trust me, you'll definitely get it next year."

"I don't I'm going to try again," Ginny told them. "I'll wait until I'm a little older…"

"Sure, Gin," George nodded, and then he shot a look towards McLaggen. "That damn-" George was cut off by the deafening sound of heavy rocks shattering apart, followed by a thunderous noise which bellowed throughout the school grounds. The entire Gryffindor Team looked towards the seventh floor, their eyes widening in horror as white hot lightning cut through the grey sky like a sharp knife. Large debris collapsed down on top of the castle's balconies, while smaller pieces rained down upon the Courtyard, pelting the screaming students underneath.

Harry had only a moment to quickly shield Ginny, who was right next to him, out of sheer instinct before he felt a rock hit his left shoulder blade. A scream tore out of his throat as his entire back burned from the pain, the rocks were as hot as burning coal. Harry then felt two hands grab him and drag him towards the nearest covered area, while Fred bolted past him with Ginny secured in his arms.

"Harry?! You alright?!" George yelled, and Harry nodded frantically. What just happened?! Harry looked around wildly, his eyes skimming over dozens of panicking students. Most of them were just scared, but some, like Angelina, were clearly hurt.

"George… What was that?" Harry managed as he looked towards the red-haired boy, but the moment he saw George's face, Harry's blood froze. There was trickles of blood sliding down the right side of George's face, something that George himself hadn't even noticed. "George! You're hurt!"

"I got grazed by a rock," George grimaced, and then he shook his head clear. "Fred? Is Ginny alright?"

"What the bloody fuck was that?!" Fred yelled in response, Ginny still hanging from his long arms. She looks fine, just terrified. The shouting was getting louder, with some people slowly taking peaks up at the castle. Harry, unable to resist his curiosity, quickly joined them. Good God… There was a hole on the side of the castle, and the area around the hole was scorched black. That's the seventh floor… Gryffindor territory… Neville and Hermione?!

"Everyone get inside," Harry heard Oliver's voice, but unlike the others, Harry had already started running towards the entrance. He didn't even realize that he had left his broom outside, and right now, he couldn't care less. The moment he entered the Entrance Hall, he found himself rooted in his spot. There were scared students everywhere, all of them shouting over one another.

"Move! Get in the Great Hall!" he heard Percy yelling, while the prefects helped him guide people into Great Hall. The Gryffindor Quidditch Team, and the other students who had been outside, caught up with Harry.

"What's going on?!" Oliver yelled out at Percy, who looked towards the newest arrivals.

"Don't know!" Percy yelled back. "Help me get people inside!" Oliver, Angelina, Alicia, Katie, the twins, and McLaggen started helping people through, while Harry pulled Ginny towards the side so that she wouldn't get trampled.

"I'm going up!" Harry told her, and her eyes widened from shock.

"You can't do that!" Ginny yelled over the crowd. "The school's under attack!"

"Neville and Hermione could be up there!" Harry yelled back, and then he started carving his way through the crowd. He got shoved, pulled, and smacked along the way, but eventually, he was standing on the steps of the Entrance Hall.

"Wait!" Ginny called, and Harry turned to see her stuck between a pair of large boys. Harry quickly took a hold of her hand and pulled her out, much to her relief. "Alright, let's go!" Ginny exclaimed, and Harry gave her a nod before he turned around and began bolting up the steps. There were a few stragglers on the higher levels, but Harry and Ginny didn't get that far. As they were running past the first floor, Ginny suddenly stopped by digging her heels into the ground.

"What is it?" Harry quickly turned to face her, but her eyes were fixed on the Hallway leading towards the Hospital Wing.

"Ronnie?!" Ginny suddenly screamed, and then she bolted into the Hallway. What? Ron? Harry jumped down the steps and looked into the Hallway, his eyes landing on Ron's group. Ginny was catching up to them, and Harry immediately spotted Ron dangling from Bulstrode and Blaise's shoulders. He got hit with debris?! Harry quickly ran towards the group, and he caught up to them just as Ginny did.

"What happened to him?!" Ginny demanded, and Ron's friends shot her startled looks.

"Not now!" Greengrass snapped, her face was the picture of fear and panic. Where's Nott? And Malfoy?

"Did he get hit by the debris?" Harry asked, his eyes scanning Ron's dazed expression. The tall redhead was just staring blankly at the ground under his feet, and he didn't even respond to Ginny or Harry's voices. But none of that mattered because both Harry and Ginny quickly went into a panic when they saw that Ron's ears were bleeding, and that he had some very odd marks running up the left side of his face. They look like… red lightning?

"What happened to him?" Ginny asked again, her voice sounded more like a pained cry this time. "Ron, are you alright? Can you hear me?"

"An accident happened," Bulstrode grit out, she and Zabini were clearly struggling with carrying the tall boy. "Potter, run ahead and find Theo and Malfoy! They went to get Pomfrey!"

"Right…" Harry nodded, and then without another thought, he bolted towards the Hospital Wing. His feelings on Ron were completely forgotten right now. All that mattered was that someone was hurt, and they needed medical attention as soon as possible. As he turned the corner, he saw two red faced boys running towards him, and behind them was Madam Pomfrey, who was also running as fast as she could.

"He's just around the corner!" Harry called to them as he waved them over. "Over here!" Harry then turned around and ran back towards Ron's group. "She's coming!" Harry told them as he approached them. He couldn't help but notice the terrified looks on the faces of Ron's friends, except for Bulstrode and Zabini, both of whom looked hell-bent on carrying Ron all the way to Hospital Wing.

"Set him down!" Madam Pomfrey called as she spotted them, and both Zabini and Bulstrode quickly eased Ron down. "What happened?!"

"A Spell backfired on him!" Davis blurted out, her teary eyes fixed on Ron's dazed expression.

"You have to do something!" Parkinson begged, while Madam Pomfrey ripped out her wand.

"Locomotor," Madam Pomfrey chanted, her wand aimed at Ron. The tall redhead began floating up into the air, something which startled him greatly.

"What in the… fuck…?" Ron mumbled, his head wobbling from side-to-side. "Put me down, you bloody arseholes…"

"He can't see anything!" Greengrass quickly told everyone. "He can't even hear us!"

"He's blind and deaf?!" Ginny shrieked, her face going even paler.

"Was anyone else hurt?" Pomfrey asked as Ron floated to her side. "Was anyone else hit with this 'Spell'?"

"We don't know…" Bulstrode panted.

"A hole got blown into the side of the castle," Harry told Pomfrey, whose eyes widened to an absurd level. "Debris hit people in the Courtyard."

"Alright, I'll take Mr. Weasley to the Hospital Wing," Pomfrey started, her expression suddenly becoming stern. "The rest of you need to go and find everyone who got injured, and bring them to the Hospital Wing. Understood?"

"We can't come with you?" Greengrass sniffled. "Please…"

"I'll go get the wounded," Harry volunteered, his eyes darting towards a frantic Ginny.

"We'll go with him," Nott panted, his face red and blotchy from sprinting around. Malfoy and Zabini simply nodded their agreement, which surprised Harry a little. I can't think about this right now. I need to go and find the others who got hurt. And then I need to find Neville and Hermione. A jolt of pain shot through his scar, but Harry quickly ignored it. Find the people who got hurt, and then find Neville and Hermione. That's all that matters. With those thoughts, Harry bolted towards the Great Hall with three Slytherin boys hot on his tail.

---

Albus Dumbledore's POV

Sunday 4th October, 1993 (The Library – Late Evening)

A familiar sense of melancholy had taken a hold over his mind, especially after the Longbottoms' funeral. War was coming to Magical Britain once again, and with it would come death and destruction. Albus' gut tightened every time he saw his students going through their regular routines, and he couldn't help but ask himself the same question every time. How many of them would be dead by the end of the war?

Harry had come to him this very morning in order to tell him that his scar was burning, which meant that Lord Voldemort was near. Albus, despite his concern, had assured Harry that the school was safe. Once Harry had left for his Quidditch tryouts, Albus had quickly started thinking about Harry's scar. It had an odd connection to Lord Voldemort, one that Albus truly wanted to understand. Harry and Tom were linked in ways that just seemed surreal. There was the Prophecy, the fact that Harry and Tom shared Wand Cores from Fawkes himself, their similar backgrounds, their Blood-Status, and now the scar. What kind of scar alerted a person that their mortal enemy was nearby?

Albus had ordered the Heads of Houses, Remus, and Hagrid to scour the grounds and Hogsmeade for any signs of Lord Voldemort. None of them had returned so far, which was only making Albus more and more worried. Something was wrong, he could just feel it. As he himself began patrolling the school, he had quickly found himself in the Library.

"Just add the Moonstone powder, and then stir clockwise," came the voice of Hermione Granger. Miss. Granger? Always in the library. Albus smiled to himself, she was a good influence on Harry and Neville. He then walked around the shelf, and found himself observing Hermione tutoring Neville. The boy looked less than happy, but that was understandable.

"Studying Potions?" Albus asked them, and they both looked up at him immediately.

"Headmaster?" Hermione blinked, while Neville nodded. "I was just helping Neville with his homework… But I was only giving him hints… We weren't cheating…"

"It sounded like you were, Miss. Granger," Albus said, deciding to amuse himself a little. Hermione's face fell, while Neville just stared at Albus.

"I… I… I wouldn't…" Hermione stammered, and Albus smiled as his eyes twinkled.

"Forgive me, Miss. Granger," Albus chuckled, taking both students by surprise. "I was only… How do you young ones say it? Ah, yes… I was simply pulling your leg." Hermione just blinked at him, her shock written on her face. Neville at least tried to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. Poor boy. "How are you, Mr. Longbottom? Are you settling back into Hogwarts?"

"I am," Neville replied, and then he looked towards Hermione. "Hermione was just helping me catch up with my homework."

"What of Mr. Potter?" Albus asked them. "Does he not have homework to catch up on?" He wouldn't choose Quidditch over his grades, would he? He is already, without a doubt, Oliver Wood's choice for Seeker this year.

"He's at the Quidditch tryouts, Headmaster," Hermione replied, a slight frown on her face. "But yes, he does. I've been telling him to just do it, but he never listens." First he skips his lessons with Remus over some fight, and now he is neglecting his studies for Quidditch. A part of Albus felt slightly bothered by this, but a stronger part of him forgave Harry immediately. The boy had suffered for eleven years, surely he deserved to enjoy his schooling life.

"I'm sure Mr. Potter will get it done before it's due," Albus nodded to himself, while Hermione subtly shook her head. "How are you subjects treating you, Miss. Granger?"

"I am keeping on top of them, Headmaster," Hermione perked up, her frown turning into a smile immediately. "All of them." Good, the Time-Turner is serving her well then.

"Don't let this old man keep you any further," Albus smiled at them, and then he turned to leave. And that's when he heard sound of thunder reverberate throughout the Library, followed by the sound of heavy debris slamming down just outside the Library. What in Merlin's name is going on out there?! Every student in the Library looked around frantically, while Albus tackled with a worrying prospect. Was the school under attack? Harry's warning, and the fact that his Professors still hadn't returned from their mission, propelled Albus into action.

"Madam Pince, keep the students safe inside the Library," Albus ordered as spotted her head pop out from behind a shelf.

"Yes, Headmaster," she quickly responded, her wand already brandished. "Children, follow me at once!" Albus heard Hermione and Neville quickly get out of their seats, but he didn't bother looking back. He had to get out there and find out what was happening, and if his school was under attack, then he needed to protect his students. With his wand at his side, Albus quickly made his way towards the Moving Staircase. As he made his way out of the first floor, he came upon a large body of panicking students.

"SILENCE!" Albus bellowed, his voice amplified by his wand. The students all froze in their spots, and then they looked to him. Every single face showed immediate relief at the sight of him, while he searched for the faces of his prefects. "Percy! Come here, my boy!"

"Yes, Headmaster?" Percy asked as he ran up to him. "What do you need me to do?"

"Gather every prefect you can find, and then get these students into the Great Hall," Albus ordered. "Lock the door behind you, understand?" The young Weasley looked so full of questions, but he simply gave Albus a firm nod before turning towards the crowd.

"Gertrude! Martha! You're both with me!" Percy ordered, and his prefects nodded quickly. "The rest of you… Follow me into the Great Hall! Samantha, go and find Carey! Tell her to get every Slytherin from the Dungeons into the Great Hall!"

While Percy controlled the terrified students, Albus began making his way up the Moving Staircase. He could feel that Hogwarts was damaged on the seventh floor, where the entrance to Gryffindor Tower was located. He had to make sure that Harry wasn't up there. As he made his way up, he couldn't help but wonder who could get past his Wards. All the Heads of Houses, and Albus himself, had placed copious amounts of Wards around Hogwarts, and yet not one of them had signaled this attack? Whoever the culprit is, they are already inside the castle. I must act quickly!

Albus made his way onto the seventh floor, and he felt as if a presence moved past him. Before he could cast the Human-Presence-Revealing Charm, dozens of Gryffindors flooded the Hallway. All of them were shouting, shoving, and causing mayhem in their panic.

"Silence!" Albus shouted once again, and just like before, everyone froze in their spots. "All of you will make your way towards the Great Hall in an orderly fashion! Older students will each grab onto a younger student, and they will be in charge of said student! Is that clear?!" The students nodded, and once they had found their partners, all of them rushed past Albus. I don't see Harry, or any of the Gryffindor Quidditch players. Good. Albus made his way past the students, all the while using his Mastery over Hogwarts to pinpoint where it was injured.

"Headmaster!" came the voice of Helena Ravenclaw, and Albus looked up to see her floating down from the ceiling. The Bloody Baron and Peeves flew down after her, and Albus couldn't help but notice the grin on Peeves' face. He's feeding off of this chaos.

"Hogwarts is besieged, Headmaster!" the Baron roared. "We must defend her in her hour of need!"

"Baron's gone Barmy!" Peeves laughed madly, which earned him a quick smack from the angry Baron.

"Be silent, jester!" the Baron boomed, and then he looked to Helena. "Beloved, stay by my side!"

"Be gone, Baron," Helena said coldly, but the Baron ignored her spite. "Headmaster, there was lightning. I saw it from my Tower. It cracked through the sky, and much to my horror, it came from inside the castle."

"Show me," Albus ordered, and she began floating in the direction of the left corridor. Albus, the Baron, and Peeves followed after her, and eventually she led them to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Much to his surprise, he noticed that there was a small door opposite the tapestry. When did that get there? That's when he remembered the room full of chamber pots, a room that he had never found since.

"It had to be from around here," Helena guessed. "My Tower faces this side of the castle."

"Your intelligence is truly your most beautiful trait, my love," the Baron said proudly, and Helena shot him a hateful glare in response. It simply didn't register to the Baron that she hated him. Albus moved towards the door, and once his wand was at the ready, he pushed the door open. He was slightly stunned to find a broom closet behind the door, but his real surprise came from the hole on the back wall.

"Who would do such a thing?!" the Baron demanded, his hand gripping the hilt of his ghostly blade. Albus just examined the hole, his eyes fixed on the scorch marks. Lightning? From inside the castle?

"Did you manage to see the culprit?" Albus asked Helena, and she quickly shook her head. "What did the lightning look like?" Some Spells simply look like lightning.

"It was like ordinary lightning," Helena replied. "Bluish-white, and so bright that I had to look away. The lightning was even accompanied by thunder."

"I shall hunt down this 'Stormbringer', and bring them to justice!" the Baron vowed, and then he looked to Peeves. "Jester, come! We have a hunt to conduct!" Peeves laughed madly, and then they both flew through the ground.

"Dear Lady, find Sir Nicholas and the Friar," Albus requested politely. "Ask them to rally the ghosts. We must search this entire castle at once."

"I will find them, Headmaster," the Grey Lady said, and after giving Albus a curtsy, she flew towards Gryffindor Tower.

"Fawkes," Albus summoned his Phoenix, and Fawkes flashed into existence. "Find the Professors searching the school grounds and Hogsmeade, and bring them back to the school. Leave no stone unturned." Fawkes let out a shriek, and then he disappeared in a vortex of flames. Albus quickly began making his way back down to the Great Hall, he had to stay near the students if he was to protect them.

"Headmaster!" came the voice of Filius, and Albus looked down to see the Charms Master on the fourth floor staircase.

"Filius!" Albus called down. "Where are the others?!"

"Pomona is inside the Great Hall!" Filius called back, while Albus began making his way down. "We were near the Owlery when we saw the lightning! Are we under attack?!"

"The Spell came from inside the castle," Albus told the Charms Master as he walked down to the steps. "Someone on the seventh floor fired the lightning, and it's left a hole on the side of the castle. I detect no foreign presence within the castle, but someone skilled could easily hide themselves from me. There is far too much Magic within the school for me to pinpoint a single intruder." Albus then spotted Pomona leading students towards the Hospital Wing below, and his eyes quickly darted towards Harry Potter, who was running up towards Gryffindor Tower.

"Mr. Potter!" Filius called, and the Boy-Who-Lived stopped immediately. "Where are you going?! Join the other students at once!"

"My friends might be-" Harry started, but Albus quickly cut in.

"Your friends are safe in the Library," Albus said, and Harry blinked at him. "Go and join the other students, Harry. This is not the time to be exploring the castle alone." Harry gave him a quick nod, and then he began running back down the steps.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry suddenly stopped, and Albus looked back up to him. "Ron was hurt really badly. He's in the Hospital Wing… I think that he caused the explosion when a Spell backfired on him." Ronald?

"A third year couldn't possibly summon such a powerful lightning strike," Filius muttered to himself.

"This is not just some third year," Albus sighed out, and then he began making his way down towards the Hospital Wing. Filius followed after him, while Harry came back down from the other side.

"Ron had these red marks on him…" Harry started as he joined the two Professors. "They looked like lightning. And his ears were bleeding as well… Greengrass told us that he was left both blind and deaf after the accident. Madam Pomfrey has taken him to the Hospital Wing." Red Marks? Lichtenberg scars?

"If he cast such a powerful lightning strike in a closed space, it would make sense for his eardrums to burst," Filius noted. "As for his blindness… I've seen flash-blindness occur as a result of bright Spells before."

"He'll be fine though, right?" Harry asked.

"Madam Pomfrey has healed worse," Albus assured Harry, though his mind was fixed on Ronald's actions. When did he learn such a powerful Spell? And why did he cast it inside the school? Lightning like that can't be cast with a wand. This was genuine lightning, powerful enough to destroy a chunk out of Hogwarts.

"Why was Ron on the seventh floor?" Harry asked. "Slytherins don't ever go up there, and since his friends were with him, it's obvious that they were all up there together."

"The only person who can answer that is Ronald himself," Albus said.

"Or his friends," Harry suggested. "We can question them about this as well."

"Harry, you need to get your back looked at," Albus said gently, he had noticed that the back of Harry's uniform was slightly torn. "Leave the questioning to the Professors."

"Is that from a Quidditch injury?" Filius asked, while Harry looked quite surprised by Albus' words.

"I was hit with a rock," Harry replied slowly, his eyes fixed on Albus' back. "Professor Dumbledore-"

"Harry, your back needs attention," Albus said calmly. "Filius and I will get to the bottom of this." They then entered the Hospital Wing, and Albus observed the crowd with keen eyes. The students were more scared than they were harmed, and the injured were being tended to by Pomona, Cedric Diggory, Max McDean, Gertrude Swans, Percy Weasley, and Carey Ductu. Where is Ronald? "Harry, go and get treatment."

"Yes, Professor," Harry sighed out, and then he walked over to Pomona. Albus and Filius made their way towards Ronald's friends, who stood up at the sight of the Headmaster.

"Where is Ronald?" Albus asked them.

"He's behind there," Daphne Greengrass replied, her finger pointing towards a curtained bed. Albus and Filius made their way past the curtain, and they found Ronald unconscious on the bed with Poppy tending to him. Filius made sure to close the curtain behind, making sure that no one saw Ronald without his clothes on.

"Poppy, what's his condition?" Albus asked calmly, his eyes observing the Lichtenberg scars all over the left side of Ronald's body.

"Not good at all," Poppy frowned at the unconscious boy. "He has flash-blindness and burst eardrums, which I can heal easily enough. But what's really bothering me is the left side of his body. See these scars? They were caused by lightning coursing through his body. Albus, quite a lot of his flesh has been… cooked." Oh, Ronald. What am I to do with you?

"Merlin…" Filius sighed out. "Can you heal this?"

"I can, but it will take me a few hours," Poppy told them. "However, I need a Spell-Burn Potion… A Potion that I don't have in my inventory."

"I'll go find Severus," Filius said with a resolute look, and then he quickly left to find the Potions Master.

"Albus, what caused this?" Poppy asked, her wand healing Ron's right ear. "I heard thunder… Did lightning really strike him?"

"Quite the opposite," Albus replied, and Poppy shot him a curious look. "Ronald fired the lightning, and judging from the left side of his body, he cast it Wandlessly."

"Wandlessly?" Poppy repeated, her shock evident.

"Ronald is right handed," Albus explained. "And yet the left side of his body is damaged. If he had used his wand, there would be no damage whatsoever. However, with a wand, the Spell would be considerably weaker due to relying on an outside conduit. Judging by his scars, Ron used his own body as the conduit for this Spell. And since his body is not used to so much power coursing through it, the Spell pretty much hit him as well."

"This boy… He'll be the death of me…" Pomfrey sighed out, her face a mixture of concern and paternal anger. "Where did he learn such a Spell?"

"That is a question that only he can answer," Albus replied, and then his lips twitched upwards. "He actually managed to blow a hole through Hogwarts."

"You sound far too proud of that, Headmaster," Poppy frowned at him, while Albus' eyes twinkled at Ronald. I am proud. Especially now that I know that no one will have lasting injuries.

"Take your time with him, Poppy," Albus said, and then he turned to leave. "I will tend to the other students myself."

---

Lord Voldemort's POV

Sunday 4th October, 1993 (Hungarian Wilderness – Near Midnight)

He wanted to murder Lucius Malfoy right now, and then he wanted to travel to Magical Britain and end the Malfoy line once and for all. Lucius, the fool that he was, had handed Lord Voldemort's Diary to an eleven year old girl… Lord Voldemort had given Lucius the Diary in the hopes that he would somehow smuggle it into Hogwarts one day, and in doing so, help the Heir of Slytherin complete his destiny. But the petty fool had given it to a little girl in the hopes of hurting her Muggle loving father. Lucius, of course, didn't know what the Diary really was, but he had still failed his Master over such a petty reason.

Lucius also had no idea what became of the Diary, or so he claimed anyway, but Lord Voldemort knew. His Horcrux had been destroyed by the Professors of Hogwarts. Cornelius' son had told him that the Professors had found the Chamber, and then destroyed the Basilisk within. If that was the case, then his Horcrux was destroyed as well. Lord Voldemort also feared that Dumbledore may have figured out what the Diary really was, but that was unlikely. The old fool was too righteous to delve into the Dark Arts, and Horcruxes were the pinnacle of the Dark Arts.

Lord Voldemort now only had five Horcruxes left, excluding what was left within his current body. The Locket was safe in the Cave, the Cup rested within the Lestrange Family vault at Gringotts, his Family Ring was stashed underneath the Gaunt Shack, the Diadem was hidden within the Room of Hidden Things, and Ronald was currently being watched over by Albus Dumbledore himself. Lord Voldemort's plan to exist in Seven parts was now ruined, as his soul could only exist in six.

He knew that he could not create another Horcrux, his soul was far too unstable to survive the process, which left him powerless in the matter. Lucius had made him powerless. Lord Voldemort's rage was bubbling just beneath the surface, and because of that, he was having trouble keeping his mind closed off from Ronald. Lord Voldemort had to get his emotions under control, or he would risk opening a connection to the monster that rested within Ronald's mind.

But despite trying to douse his rage, it felt as if the Universe itself was trying to make him snap. Lucius had suggested that they find Fenrir Greyback, who had broken out of his confinement within the Ministry's Dungeons once again. Tracking the dog down wasn't difficult, one only needed to follow the missing children reports. Fenrir was still turning children and stealing them from their homes, his absurd belief that he would overpower Wizarding-kind with his army of flea infested mutts was still running strong.

The dog's trail had led them to Hungary, and eventually, into the Hungarian wilderness. A beast like Fenrir could never hope to exist within the civilized parts of Hungary, much to the Dark Lord's annoyance. They had spent the last day trekking through the muddy forest, and Lord Voldemort was already tired of his 'companions' constantly slowing him down. Cornelius was the same age as Lord Voldemort, both of them had attended Hogwarts together, so the Dark Lord could at least understand that hiking wasn't Cornelius' strength. But Lucius had no excuse. He was far too used to his comfortable lifestyle, which he had enjoyed while Lord Voldemort had suffered. He will pay for his abandonment soon. I need him for now, but when his usefulness comes to an end…

"My Lord, there is a camp not far from us," Lucius said as he returned from his scouting, his perfectly blonde hair disheveled.

"Describe this camp to me, Lucius," Lord Voldemort hissed, his temper flaring at the sight of the cur.

"I believe that it's a Werewolf camp," Lucius replied quickly, his gut tightening from fear. "Most of the residents, including the children, had facial scars. And they seemed to smell my presence, despite my Disillusionment Charm."

"Is it Greyback's horde?" Cornelius asked, his feet were killing him. The Dark Lord had not allowed them rest, or food, for the last two days.

"I did not see him," Lucius replied. "But if he is indeed in Hungary, those mutts will know where. Their kind enjoy running through the forests together."

"Come, let us introduce ourselves," Lord Voldemort ordered, his eyes gleaming red.

---

Thirty Minutes Later

None of them had any wands, but the Dark Lord could sense Magic amongst them. Some of them had been actual wizards and witches before they were turned, which only served to disgust the Dark Lord. Werewolves were a plague on this World. They infected every person that they bit during the Full moon, which in turn had resulted in Worldwide hatred against their kind, and in Lord Voldemort's opinion, they deserved to be hated. They were less than human, and they only lived to drag others down with them.

"We do not hide our faces here, traveler," an older man spoke up as the Dark Lord approached the center of the camp. He was a weathered man in his mid-thirties, yet he looked to be nearing his fifties. The camp leader, I suppose. "Remove your hood, my friend. None here will judge your appearance, I swear it."

"How kind of you," the Dark Lord spoke, his voice slow and smooth. The Dark Lord then pulled his hood back, and every person in the camp went wide-eyed at the sight of his pale, translucent skin. And when they saw his blazing red eyes, they all took a step back.

"Who… Who are you, traveler?" the camp leader asked, and the Dark Lord gave him a curled smile.

"I have many names," Lord Voldemort said smoothly, he could feel Lucius and Cornelius tensing behind him. Is it fear, or excitement? Probably both. "My companions and I are searching the Hungarian wilderness for a Werewolf by the name of Fenrir Greyback." The men burst into whispers at that, while the women ushered their children into the tents.

"And what is your goal, 'traveler'?" a young woman asked, and Lord Voldemort looked to his left. The young woman had short blonde hair, and the fierce look on her face displeased him. Another 'brave' fool. Too young to understand that her tongue can get her killed.

"Vexxa, go join the other children," the camp leader ordered, but the young woman stomped over to the camp leader's side.

"No, father," Vexxa refused, and her father let out a tired sigh.

"Forgive my daughter's boldness, she has her mother's spirit," the camp leader spoke, and his daughter shot him a haughty look. "My name is Abraham, traveler. Might I know yours?"

"Cornelius," the Dark Lord lied. If I speak my true name, they'll all flee. That thought put a smile on his face again, no wizard had ever commanded fear and respect like Lord Voldemort.

"Well, Cornelius," Abraham started, while his daughter eyed the Dark Lord suspiciously. Barely fifteen, and yet she is tempting Death. "Fenrir Greyback is not here, nor do we want him to be. He has given into the beast, and therefore, he has no place amongst us."

"But you know where he is?" Lord Voldemort asked.

"Why do you want to find him?" Vexxa demanded, and the Dark Lord felt Cornelius' Magic spike. Be at ease, my Knight.

"Vexxa, be silent," Abraham ordered. "This man's business is not ours. Remember my teachings. We do not interfere with the outside World, and so it does not interfere with us."

"Father, this man-"

"Enough!" Abraham scolded, and Vexxa shot the Dark Lord an angry glare. Brave, and self-righteous. A Gryffindor through and through. "Fenrir Greyback approached our camp before the Full Moon… He wanted us to attack a nearby village with his pack. We refused, and our packs quarreled. We won, and he ran off into the nearby mountains. We have not seen, nor smelled, him since."

"I see," Lord Voldemort 'smiled'. These Werewolves are useless to me then. No… Perhaps I can turn some of them. "You all choose to hide yourselves away from the World?" Abraham blinked at him, while some of the younger men looked a bit annoyed.

"We are a danger to people, so we have no choice," Vexxa replied, what was this stranger playing at?

"But are you not also human?" Lord Voldemort asked, making sure that everyone heard him. "Don't you deserve to live ordinary lives? Why let your condition hinder you in such a way? Why not find a different way to exist? Why not strive for a World where you would be treated as equals?"

"We have all asked ourselves those questions, Cornelius," Abraham said firmly, his eyes darting towards the 'new-borns'. "But such a World does not exist… At least, not yet."

"Then help me build it," Lord Voldemort suggested, and people started exchanging looks. Lord Voldemort then looked to a young man who had barely any scars on him, and when their eyes met, Lord Voldemort saw the desperation within him. He was recently turned, wasn't he? He doesn't want this life. Lord Voldemort gazed into the young man's mind, and he felt his fear and loneliness. "What is your name, boy?"

"Kurt," the young man replied slowly. "Kurt Varga."

"It's just Kurt," Vexxa frowned at Kurt, who quickly looked down at his feet. "We have no last names in this camp. We are one pack!"

"Vexxa, we do not speak like that to our own," Abraham frowned at her.

"Tell me, Vexxa," Lord Voldemort spoke in a gentle voice. "Were you born with your affliction?"

"I was," Vexxa replied defiantly. "I've lived with it my whole life, and I understand that we are dangerous. Your words will not sway me, stranger." Her father sighed once again, no doubt struggling with his daughter's haughty behavior. Children… Disgusting creatures…

"So you would rather just hide in the woods?" Lord Voldemort asked. "Instead of being part of the solution, you would isolate yourself, and others like you, to a lonely existence?" Lord Voldemort then looked to Kurt. "You don't have to hide, Kurt. If you come with me, I will help you secure a place within this World. A place where you will be loved, accepted, and appreciated."

"Why would you help us?" some other young man called out.

"Because like you, I too have been shunned by the World," Lord Voldemort looked to him, and he noticed that this young man had a gang of teenagers behind him. "I was thrown away… Forgotten… Left to die alone… The World will never change, not unless we force it to."

"You speak of war?" Abraham asked, his frown now fixed on Lord Voldemort.

"I speak of rebellion," Lord Voldemort replied. "Rebellion against those who spit on you. Rebellion against those who hunt you down like animals. Rebellion against loneliness and misery. Rebellion against Death." Lord Voldemort then looked back to Kurt, who was already in awe of the Dark Lord's words. "If Fate has dealt you a poor hand, then you should throw that hand away. Don't lose the-"

"Leave!" Vexxa suddenly yelled, and then her eyes darted towards her camp members. "Father, this man is trying to turn the others against you! Can't you see that?!"

"You don't speak for all of us," Kurt managed, but an angry glare from the Alpha's daughter made him look back down.

"Kurt's right," the other young man spoke up, he had more fire in his voice. "Why do you always think that you know best, Vexxa?"

"Being Abraham's daughter gives you no authority over us!" one of the teenage girls spoke up.

"Silence!" Abraham shouted, which only angered the riled up teenagers.

"I'm sick of living in these fucking forests!" the young man yelled, and his gang nodded their agreement. "We barely survive each month-"

"Then why did you join, Alexander?!" Vexxa demanded.

"Because I had nowhere to go!" Alexander yelled back. "I had no one to turn to! And this old bastard convinced me to become a hermit for other people's benefit!"

"Leave then!" Vexxa shouted, her face turning red. Foolish girl. She is ruled by her heart.

"Vexxa, be silent!" Abraham ordered, but it was too late. Alexander, and his gang, had begun to walk up towards the Dark Lord.

"Kurt… Join us, brother," Alexander called, and Kurt looked to Abraham with a conflicted expression.

"All of you, go back inside your tents," Abraham said, his eyes fixed on Lord Voldemort. "This… devil… is trying to use you."

"I am offering them hope, something that everyone deserves to have," Lord Voldemort countered, and then he looked to Kurt. "I am offering you hope, Kurt Varga. Stand by my side, and help me help others like you. There must be hundreds of people in your position right now, and they have no one to turn to. You can be the person who saves them."

"I… I…" Kurt stammered, his eyes darting between Abraham and Lord Voldemort.

"Kurt, just grow a pair," one of the girls snapped. "We're all sick of this, aren't we? I've spent more than half of my life living in caves and bushes… I'm done with it, and I know that you are too."

"Why are you searching for Fenrir Greyback?!" Vexxa yelled at the Dark Lord. "He is a monster! Can't you all see that this… thing… is trying to recruit you just like Fenrir?!"

"Some of us agreed with Fenrir," Alexander frowned. "But the old man refused to listen to us, and then he made us fight against another pack. We lost friends because of him!"

"I am the Alpha of this pack, and you will heed me when I speak!" Abraham roared, making Alexander's group flinch. "And you! Leave this camp, or I will-" Lord Voldemort used a Non-verbal, Wandless Summoning Charm to yank the 'Alpha' Werewolf's entrails out, he had reached the end of his patience. Screams tore throughout the camp as the Alpha bellowed in agony, his form rolling frantically through the dried leaves.

"Father!" Vexxa screamed, while the others could only watch in horror as their Alpha's squealed like a pig. Vexxa was on her knees within a flash, doing her best to hold down her father.

"She is now the Alpha, is she not?" Lord Voldemort looked to a startled Alexander, and the young man gave a terrified nod. "Kill her. Become the Alpha of this pack, and then join in me in my war against those who wish to oppress you."

"You… killed him…" one of the girls whimpered. Not quite, but he will die soon enough.

"Just as he killed your friends by turning you against your own," Lord Voldemort said calmly, and then he looked back to Alexander. "War is not without casualties, Alexander. You have strength in you, I can see it. You should be the Alpha of this pack."

"Here, boy," Lucius said, and then he handed Alexander a heavy rock. "Use this." Alexander took the rock with shaking hands, and then he looked towards Vexxa, who was screaming and crying over her father's dying form.

"Show them strength, Alexander," Lord Voldemort hissed, and the boy nodded in a panicked manner. And then, he began making his way towards Vexxa. Lord Voldemort made sure to keep his smile hidden, this particular dog would prove useful.

"What are you all doing?!" Vexxa yelled at everyone, her teary eyes darting towards everyone. "Help me! He's dying!" No, he's already dead. As Alexander near Vexxa, her eyes widened at him. "Alexander… What are you doing…? Get away… Get away from me!" Vexxa tried to stand up and run, but Alexander grabbed her by the hair in a panic. "NO! PLEASE! DON'T DO-"

"AGH!" Alexander screamed as he brought the rock down onto her skull, and the sound of bone cracking echoed throughout the camp. The girl collapsed down onto the ground with a dull thud, her extremities twitching as she began to gurgle.

Alexander kept screaming as he smashed the rock down onto Vexxa's skull over and over again, and after a few seconds, the young man's own body was covered in gore. Lord Voldemort simply watched the execution, his ears listening to the gasps and cries in content. Once I've joined this pack with Fenrir's, I will have him grow his numbers while I search for other allies. Didn't Cornelius mention meeting a Blood Lord within Romania? To think that one of them even exists in this day and age. I must secure his allegiance.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Monday 5th October, 1993 (The Hospital Wing – Breakfast)

Ron eyed his reflection with a bemused expression, a majority of his body was covered in foul smelling bandages. The bandages completely covered his left arm, his left leg, his torso, and the left side of his face. Even his left eye was patched and bandaged. He wasn't really bothered by it, mostly because Pomfrey had left him a note which informed him that the bandages were soaked in a Potion that would heal his 'lighting scars' by the end of the day. He apparently had nothing to worry about as his injuries were mostly healed already.

Ron had fired lightning! He had blown a hole through Hogwarts! Judging by how empty the Hospital Wing was, no one had gotten seriously injured because of his actions, and so he could feel nothing but pride. He wouldn't be using that Spell indoors again, but he was still really proud of himself. Hours of hard work had finally paid off, and even though his body wasn't capable of handling that Spell yet, he knew that he'd keep working to strengthen his body. The fact that he had managed to get actual results reinvigorated his spirit, and Ron couldn't wait to try out the other Spells from Flitwick's book.

"Marty!" Ron called, and a sudden crack made him turn around.

"Master called?" Marty bowed deeply, but when he looked up at Ron, his smile died on his face. "Master…?"

"Hello," Ron smiled at his Elf, who just stared at him. And then, Marty's lips began to quiver as his eyes welled up. Oh no…

"Master!" Marty wailed, and before Ron knew it, his Elf was clinging to his right leg. Ron had to balance himself before he tripped over, his Hospital gown constricting his movements. "Master!"

"Easy, Marty," Ron said as he leaned on his left leg, and pain immediately shot throughout it. OW! Motherfucker! "Marty, I'm falling over…"

"A thousand apologies, Master," Marty leaped back, and Ron quickly regained his balance. "Master was hurt by the lightning strike! And Marty was too busy with his Kitchen chores to help Master!"

"It's alright, Marty," Ron said gently, and then he sat down on his bed. "Come, sit with me." Marty sniffled and wiped his eyes, and then he sat down to Ron's right, his head bowed in shame. "Hey… Don't be sad… I'm not angry at all."

"Marty failed… failed Master…" Marty hiccupped, and Ron quickly put his right arm around the little Elf.

"None of that," Ron whispered as he pulled Marty into his side. "You didn't do anything wrong, Marty. How could you even know that I was hurt? I never called you. C'mon, don't cry please. Shhh." Marty coughed out a heartbreaking sob, and then he clung to Ron's side. "I'm alright, Marty. The left side of my body hurts, but I'm mostly healed up."

"Master has lost… his eye…" Marty trembled, and Ron quickly rubbed his little back.

"I haven't," Ron assured him. "It's just patched and bandaged because I had 'lightning scars' on the left side of my face. My eyes are fine, Marty."

"Marty will kill this 'Stormbringer'… Marty swears it…" Marty sobbed, while Ron blinked repeatedly. Stormbringer? Who the fuck is that?

"The Stormbringer? Who's that?" Ron asked as gently as he could.

"He is the one who summoned the lightning… The Blood Baron has told everyone of him," Marty replied. "The Bloody Baron was so angry at first, but now he is boasting about the Stormbringer's prowess… The Elves are all so confused…" I summoned the lightning though.

"Marty, tell me everything," Ron said, his hold easing up.

---

Twenty Minutes Later

"Just… Just keep holding that up…" Ron groaned, and then he slid his left arm through his white collar shirt. Merlin… That hurt so much. As it turned out, Ron was now known as 'Stormbringer' by the Elves and Ghosts of Hogwarts. The Bloody Baron had been boasting about his House, and about Ron, to anything with ears.

"Marty will do up the buttons, Master Stormbringer," Marty beamed, and Ron gave him a nod. As soon as Ron had confessed that he was the one who had summoned the lightning, Marty had gone from crying to beaming with pride instantly.

"Stormbringer…" Ron whispered as Marty stood on Ron's bed in order to do up his Master's shirt buttons.

"It is a fitting name, Master," Marty nodded happily. "It commands respect, does it not?"

"It certainly is… grand," Ron nodded his agreement. "So the Elves and the Professors fixed up the entire castle?"

"They did indeed," Marty nodded. "The Come-and-Go room is also fixed, thanks to us Elves."

"The what?" Ron blinked.

"The Sanctuary, Master," Marty clarified, and Ron breathed out a breath of relief. "Done. Marty will get the sling."

"Thank you," Ron said, the left side of his body aching slightly. "Why did you call the Sanctuary the Come-and-Go room?"

"It's what we Elves call it, Master," Marty replied, and then he put the sling around Ron's head. Ron fixed his left arm inside it, and once it was lodged in, Ron relaxed his left arm completely. That's so much better.

"An odd name," Ron commentated, and then he made sure to check the bandages on the left side of his face. Still there. Good.

"Is it wise for Master to be out of bed?" Marty asked, and Ron shrugged in response.

"I'm hungry, and I don't like the idea of my group being alone today," Ron replied. I'll just pretend like I didn't read Pomfrey's note. "Marty, do you mind apparating me near the Great Hall? I don't want to walk down there."

"Marty is proud to serve, Master," Marty beamed, and then he held out his hand. Ron took it with his gloved one, and Marty apparated them both. As soon as Ron came out of the teleport, he leaned forward and released a shaky breath.

"Ugh… How do you stand doing that all the time?" Ron asked, and Marty released a childish giggle.

"Master will get used to it," Marty promised. "Does Master require anything else?"

"Well, you've dressed me and helped me get down here," Ron chuckled. "I reckon I've asked enough from you today. I'll see you soon, Marty."

"Goodbye, Master," Marty smiled a toothy smile, and then he was gone with a crack. Right… Let's limp into the Great Hall. Breakfast is almost over, and I just know that Flint will try something stupid because I'm not around. Ron limped towards the doors leading into the Great Hall, his left leg already starting to ache. Why is this damn door closed? Fuck.

"Depulso," Ron chanted lightly, and the large doors slid open. Ron sheathed his wand, and then he limped into the Great Hall. His eye immediately landed on his group, and much to his anger, Flint was standing right behind Malfoy, who was frowning down at his plate. What the fuck? Right in the middle of the Great Hall? Are the Triumvirate seriously letting this slide?

"It's Weasley!" some lad called, and every head turned towards him. Most of the students gaped at his appearance, while others looked outright awed at the sight of him. Ron, however, kept his right eye fixed on Flint, who too was just staring at him now. Damn moron is going after my group right in front of the whole school. So much for keeping Slytherin business in Slytherin. Ron began limping towards his seat, his face tightening a little because of the pain in his leg. The whispers grew louder and louder, but Ron simply ignored them.

"Hello, Flint," Ron frowned at the seventh year. "Mind fucking off? My right foot is still working, you see… And I'll happily ram it into your arse." Tracey let out a wheezing laugh, while the other girls smiled at Ron's arrival.

"What a shame," Flint sneered at him. "Rumor had it that-"

"Shut the fuck up," Ron frowned, and Flint's lips curled up from anger. "I don't care about whatever cunt words come pouring out of your cunt mouth. Piss off." Flint swallowed his rage, and then he stormed off towards his own group. That's what I thought, bitch.

"Nice timing, mate," Theo grinned at him as he sat down, while the others just looked relieved to see him walking around.

"What's that smell?" Pansy asked, her nose scrunching up.

"My bandages are soaked in some Potion," Ron replied, and then he grabbed some toast. "Sorry about the smell." Wait… I can't put anything on this toast. My left arm is useless. "Theo, can you please spread some butter on this?"

"Of course," Theo said as he took Ron's toast, while Ron looked to Malfoy.

"What was he saying?" Ron asked, but Malfoy just stared at him as if he was a ghost. "Malfoy? Anyone in there?"

"He's still shaken by what he saw yesterday," Daphne smirked, and Ron gave her a slow nod. "Ron, should you really be walking around? You look like a mummy…"

"I figured that Flint was going to try something since I wasn't around, and I was right," Ron shrugged. "A little pain is nothing."

"You're in pain?" Millie asked, her smile turning into concern.

"That explains why Pomfrey is glaring at you from the staff table," Tracey whispered, and Ron made sure to not look at Pomfrey. She's going to be so pissed off in our session today. "She told us that you were going to be just fine, but it would take a couple of days."

"Here's your buttered toast, Stormbringer," Theo smirked, and Ron let out a chuckle. The Troll-Slaying Stormbringer… They can put that on my gravestone.

"Thanks, Lightning Feet," Ron said as he took the toast, and Theo patted his back. A jolt of pain shot through Ron's back, and Ron let out a wince. Ow… I'm so sore…

"Sorry," Theo quickly apologized, while the girls bombarded him with cusses.

"It's okay…" Ron sighed out, and then he looked to Blaise. "Mate, what was Flint saying to you guys."

"He was mostly just threatening Malfoy," Blaise replied, he too was just staring at Ron with awe. "Ron… You blew a hole through the Sanctuary…" Not my finest moment, but I'm still very proud of it. "Every single person in this school has been talking about you as if you're some…" Blaise trailed off.

"As if you're some God," Malfoy finally spoke up, his eyes still fixed on Ron. He's never really seen me pull shite like this off before. "How did you learn such a powerful Spell, Weasley?"

"Didn't you see me training all of yesterday?" Ron asked in return. "Believe me, I've been trying to get this Spell right for weeks now." Ron then moved his left arm around in his sling, it was really starting to ache.

"Ron, you shouldn't have come down here," Daphne sighed out. "You look terrible."

"Thanks," Ron feigned hurt, and Daphne frowned because she knew what was coming. "Goodbye what little self-esteem I had left."

"Ha, that was good," Tracey giggled, and Ron shot her a wink. Tracey just gets my humor, mostly because we have a very similar sense of humor.

"Why did you come down here?" Malfoy asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. Weasley was clearly in pain, and instead of resting in a hospital bed, he had limped all the way down here.

"To keep Flint away from this group," Ron replied, his right eye meeting Malfoy's. Malfoy just stared at him with a blank expression, and then he looked down at his plate. Right…

"The Gryffindors want a word with you, by the way," Blaise informed him, and Ron waited for him to go on. "You blew a hole in their territory, and they want to know what we were all doing up there."

"Do they now?" Ron smirked. "Well, I don't plan on giving them an answer. I'll just ignore them."

"Your siblings too?" Pansy asked, and Ron nodded.

"I'm a traitor, remember?" Ron reminded them, his voice turning slightly bitter. "I'm not beholden to tell them shite." Plus, I'm not talking to Ginny until she apologizes. Either she can swallow her pride, or she can spend the rest of her life without hearing a word from me. I'll do my duty to her and keep her safe, but I won't be pushed around by a brat who never bothered to learn her manners. "Forget the Lions, we have Snakes to worry about right now. The Sanctuary has been fixed by the Elves, and all of you need to go up there after classes end. Pomfrey won't let me out of her sight until I'm fully healed up, especially after this."

"That's great news," Tracey beamed. "I meant the Sanctuary, not Pomfrey being angry with you. Wait… Pomfrey being angry with you is kind of funny." Ron went to respond, but the school bell suddenly signaled the end of breakfast. I didn't even eat anything!

"Quick, make me a bunch of sandwiches!" Ron ordered, making everyone jump a little. "Pomfrey's going to feed me that tasteless paste that she calls food!" Everyone but Malfoy quickly started making sandwiches, while Ron shot a quick looks towards Pomfrey. She was glaring daggers at him, and Ron gave her an innocent smile. I have to convince her that I didn't read her note.

"Let's go," Daphne said, three buttered toasts in her hands. They all got up at that, and as they made their way towards the exit, people kept trying to catch Ron's eye. But since Ron's limp was slowing him down considerably, pretty much everyone was forced to pass him by.

"Here you are," Blaise said as he handed Ron a piece of toast with strawberry jam on it, and Ron quickly devoured it. "Merlin… Fucking animal."

"Next, please," Ron grinned, his limp making him look like a crazy person. Blaise handed him another piece of toast, and Ron scarfed that down as well. So damn hungry.

"Careful, or he might eat your fingers as well," Millie chuckled, she was just glad to see Ron up and about. As Ron was eating the toast that Theo just handed him, he spotted over a dozen Gryffindors waiting for him by the exit. UGH! Fuck off, you twats. I'm actually in a lot of pain right now.

"Brace for impact," Tracey whispered.

"Ron, can we talk to you?" Percy asked, the twins grimacing at Ron's appearance from behind Percy.

"No," Ron replied flatly, making his older brother blink. Ha! "Sorry, that was a joke… I'm kind of in pain here."

"You shouldn't be walking around, Ron," Hermione scolded, and Ron nodded to himself.

"Here," Pansy said, handing him another piece of toast. Ron began munching on it immediately, while the Gryffindors just stared at him. She put way too much marmalade on this. Still tastes good though.

"Are you just going to stare at him?" Blaise asked the Gryffindors. "Or do you have something to say?"

"Mr. Weasley," came Pomfrey's voice, and Ron turned around slowly. The Matron's nostrils were flaring, and she was clearly staring into Ron's soul.

"Madam Pomfrey," Ron mumbled, his mouth full of toast. "How are you this-"

"Be quiet," she hissed, and then she glared at the Gryffindors. "Stop hovering over my patient. Don't you all have classes to go to? Go!" The Gryffindors quickly began to depart, but Ron's siblings lingered. Ron's siblings, and the Golden Trio… "Did I stutter?"

"Let's go, you two," Hermione said quickly, and then she dragged Neville and Harry out with her. Harry's eyeing me again… Great.

"We just want to see if he's alright," Percy told the Matron, whose expression softened a little.

"He just needs some rest, that's all," Pomfrey assured them all.

"He hasn't lost his eye?" Luna asked, her hands tugging at the side of his shirt.

"I haven't," Ron gave her a smile. "Don't worry so much, little sis. I've had worse injuries."

"Which is nothing to be proud of," Pomfrey frowned at him.

"I'm a little proud," Ron mumbled, something that made Tracey and the twins snigger.

"Ronald," came Dumbledore's voice, and everyone looked to see him approaching the group. "I need to have a word with you. In my Office."

"Headmaster, your Office is on the seventh floor," Pomfrey pointed out. "Does he look like he can go up seven floors?" She's actually going to murder me during our session today, isn't she?

"We can talk in the Courtyard," Ron suggested, and Dumbledore gave him a nod. "Can I bring my breakfast?" Dumbledore waved his hand, and Ron's breakfast floated out of his friends' hands.

"Brilliant," Theo said, his eyes fixed on the floating pieces of toast.

"Thank you, Theodore," Dumbledore chuckled, and Theo was left amazed by the fact that the Headmaster had called him by his first name. "Now off to class, all of you." Ron's group, and his siblings, slowly left the Great Hall. Ginny lingered behind as much as she could, but when Ron refused to even look at her, she skulked away with her head hanging low.

"Come straight to the Hospital Wing after you are done, Mr. Weasley," Pomfrey ordered, and then she looked to Dumbledore. "I will hold you accountable, Headmaster." With that, she stormed out of the Great Hall.

"Why must you anger others, Ronald?" Dumbledore sighed dramatically.

"If I knew the answer to that, I'd have a much happier life, Headmaster," Ron sighed as well. "Shall we go?"

"Certainly," Dumbledore said, and then they both made their way out. As Ron limped out into the Courtyard, he noticed a ghost flying overhead.

"Lightning Lord," the ghost greeted, and Ron blinked at him. What? The ghost simply flew into the castle without another word, and so Ron looked to Dumbledore.

"Lightning Lord? Stormbringer?" Ron asked, and Dumbledore let out an amused chuckle.

"The Bloody Baron has been gloating to all the other ghosts about you," Dumbledore told him. "He is quite fond of giving powerful titles to his students. He even named himself, by the way." The Bloody Baron is an intimidating name.

"First 'Troll-Slayer', and now this," Ron said, his limp getting worse. "Headmaster, can we please stop? My leg is starting to really hurt."

"Of course," Dumbledore smiled at him. "Would like some of your toast?"

"Yes, please," Ron replied, and then he reached for the nearest one. But as soon as Ron reached for it, it floated out of his reach. Ron shot Dumbledore a frown, only to notice the old man smiling at him. Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling with amusement, much to Ron's annoyance. "Stop that."

"Stop what, Ronald?" Dumbledore chuckled heartily.

"This is why Professor McGonagall doesn't return your love letters," Ron bit out, and Dumbledore let out a roar of laughter.

"Temper, temper…" Dumbledore laughed, a proper smile on his face. Ron quickly grabbed one of the pieces of toasts while Dumbledore was distracted, and then he shot Dumbledore a victorious grin.

"I win," Ron gloated, but Dumbledore simply kept laughing to himself. Ron's own lips twitched upwards, it was nice to see the old wizard laugh so openly. "What did you want to talk about, Headmaster? Also, where was Professor Snape? I didn't see him this morning."

"He is most likely in his lab already," Dumbledore replied, his laughter dying down slowly. "You should thank him when you see him next. He worked around the clock to make the Potion that your bandages were soaked in." Oh.

"I'll be sure to do that," Ron promised, and then he took a bite out of his toast.

"You see that area up there?" Dumbledore asked, his finger pointing up at the top of the castle.

"Yeah," Ron nodded, his mouth full of toast. I bet Daphne made this one. It tastes the best so far.

"That's where you blew a hole into my castle," Dumbledore told him, and Ron shot him a sorry grin. "Students down in the Courtyard were pelted with debris, your brothers and sister included. I healed the gash on George Weasley's head myself." Oops. I should probably apologize to him for that.

"Sorry," Ron apologized.

"Ronald… What were you thinking?" Dumbledore asked, his amusement gone. "You could have died, my boy."

"I didn't think that it would be so… powerful," Ron said softly, the mood had shifted far too quickly for his liking. "And I was just so angry… The Spell kept refusing to bloody work…"

"Where did you learn the Wandless variation of Baubillious?" Dumbledore asked. I'm not even surprised that he figured that out. "It is far too rare for most people to know just how dangerous the Wandless variation of that Charm is. Who gave you this knowledge?"

"Professor Flitwick gave me a book on Wandless Magic," Ron replied truthfully, and Dumbledore nodded to himself. "I've just been practicing some Spells in there, that's all."

"Ronald, Wandless Magic is highly unstable," Dumbledore said gently. "You must be more than just careful if you wish to practice it. Certain Wandless Spells are dangerous to the castor himself if his body isn't powerful enough to act as a suitable conduit. A majority of your left arm was cooked, dear boy… It took us hours to heal it."

"Sorry," Ron apologized again. "It's just that… How am I supposed to know when my body is strong enough?"

"If a certain Wandless Spell refuses to work properly for a long time, it generally means that your body isn't able to output the power needed for it," Dumbledore told him, and Ron nodded slowly. Need to remember that. "Don't force Magic, Ronald… It does not bend to the will of any individual. It must be respected as the gift that it is."

"I understand," Ron replied, he had forgotten all about his breakfast. "You know, if I had a teacher who had told me about the dangers of forcing Magic, I wouldn't have blown a hole in the castle."

"And what are my staff, Ronald?" Dumbledore asked.

"I want to learn things from you though," Ron replied shamelessly. "Don't think that I've forgotten your promise to me about Conjuration Magic."

"Do you ever turn off?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling once again.

"We can't afford to slow down, Headmaster," Ron replied, and Dumbledore nodded his agreement.

"That we can't, dear boy," Dumbledore said softly. "Come by my Office on Friday, and I will uphold my promise to you."

"Yes!" Ron grinned, while Dumbledore let out a soft chuckle.

"Would you prefer to finish your breakfast out here, or in the Hospital Wing?" Dumbledore asked.

"Out here," Ron replied immediately. "I think Madam Pomfrey wants to hurt me."

"Probably," Dumbledore nodded. "But I assure you, she will heal you right after."

"On which World is that a good thing?" Ron gave Dumbledore a deadpan look, and then he began eating the toast in his hand. Dumbledore reached up and took one of the sandwiches, and then he happily bit into it. "Wow… Stealing food from a cripple…"

"Sharing is a virtue, Ronald," Dumbledore chuckled, clearly amused by his own actions.

"And thievery is a crime," Ron frowned, though he wasn't really upset. They both proceeded to eat up the pieces of toast together, and when they were done, Dumbledore helped Ron back into the castle.

---

Author's Notes: Another one! I hope you guys enjoyed that! Sorry that it took five days instead of the usual four, but life is pretty busy for me right now. I'll try and get the next Chapter out by Thursday, but it might be delayed until Friday. It just depends on my volunteering work because we're sort of really busy right now.

#GiveRonJustice!

I just started using this # thing because a friend of mine is always saying it, and it's just lodged in my head.

See you guys on Thursday (maybe Friday)!