Fate Chapter 83 - The Rising Flames, a harry potter fanfic

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Chapter 83 is done! I found the best music to listen to when I'm typing up Chapters, it's called Weightless by Macroni Union. Just helps me concentrate.

One more thing before you all start. A reader told me about this video on Youtube, and I really think Ron fans should watch it. It's called What went weird with Ron Weasley. Shout-out to Persian Guy, the video was really educational, mate!

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 83 – The Rising Flames

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 10th October, 1993 (The Entrance Hall – After Dinner)

"Ron, what are you doing?" Pansy asked, her eyes darting around them. Ron, however, paid her no mind. His eyes were fixed on the House Hourglasses. Slytherin has two hundred and ninety points, while Ravenclaw, which is in second place, only has eighty points. We're dominating the other Houses, and it's mostly because of my first years.

"Ron?" came Daphne's voice, and he felt someone tugging at his gloved hand. Ron turned to face his friends, all of whom were just staring at him.

"Care to share your thoughts?" Blaise asked.

"We're dominating the other Houses," Ron replied, and they all nodded.

"Not really a secret," Theo shrugged. "Even the Professors know that we're doing really well this year."

"And Gryffindor is on sixty five points," Ron stated, and they all nodded. In one month, we've taken such a huge lead.

"Weasley, are you only just realizing this?" Malfoy asked, and Ron simply turned back to the Hourglasses.

"Ron, people are already back in their common rooms," Tracey spoke up. "I don't like standing out here."

"Give me a minute," Ron said, a strategy was forming in his head. "I'm planning something."

"What are you planning?" Millie asked as she stepped up to his side, her eyes now fixed on the Hourglasses as well.

"Blaise, how many House Points are given to the winner of the Quidditch Cup?" Ron asked.

"It depends on their season," Blaise replied slowly. "From what I understand, it's all based on how many points a team scores per match. All in all, winning the Quidditch Cup can net a House around three hundred and fifty House Points." Hmmm…

"And yet, winning the Year-based Dueling Tournaments can potentially earn a House six hundred points," Ron said to himself.

"Expecting Slytherin to win in each section of the Year-based Tournament is idiotic at best," Malfoy said. "The Professors understand that each year is different, and that no single House will dominate the others. You might win the third year Tournament, Weasley, but the second years stand no chance."

"You're right," Ron agreed, and Malfoy was quite surprised by Ron's civil agreement. "But there's one thing that you fail to understand."

"And what is that?" Malfoy asked.

"I'm Ronald fucking Weasley, and I don't bloody lose," Ron replied, a strategy had made its nest in his mind. "Let's go, I have a plan to implement." And a would-be thug to put in his place. They all began following Ron, with Daphne quickly walking up to his side. She was about to say something, but a cheering crowd entered the Entrance Hall. Ron and his friends quickly turned to see that the Gryffindors were coming back into the castle, and Harry was at the head of the crowd. Back from testing his new broom, eh? You're welcome, by the way.

"Time to move, people," Theo said, and they all quickly began to make their way into the Dungeons. When they could no longer hear the Gryffindors singing, they all slowed down a bit.

"Potter is going to catch the Snitch in every single game, isn't he?" Millie said, and everyone but Malfoy nodded their agreement.

"I certainly hope so," Theo said. "If he doesn't, I'm going to lose a lot of Galleons."

"You're still placing bets on Potter?" Tracey asked, while Ron and Blaise sniggered. Ah, Theo… Always looking to benefit himself.

"Easy money," Theo shrugged.

"But you're already loaded," Tracey pointed out.

"You can always have more money, Trace," Theo gave her a wink.

"You're not worried about our House-mates stringing you up for betting on Potter?" Pansy asked, and Theo snorted.

"Half of them are doing the same thing," Blaise told Pansy.

"And I have Ron on my side," Theo smirked, and then he patted Ron's back. "You'll protect me, won't you?"

"Of course," Ron replied, an amused smile on his face.

"Wow…" Millie muttered as she grimaced at Theo, who simply grinned at her.

"Ron, what's your plan?" Daphne whispered.

"You'll see," Ron replied, he was still thinking of a way to present it. "I'm just refining it right now, Daph. Just make sure that you keep the others behind me. I don't want you all getting involved in a fight."

"Ron, don't fight him," Daphne whispered again. "Please?"

"I'm sorry, but if Flint raises his hands against me, then I will defend myself," Ron told her. "That's who I am. I'm not taking shite from someone who is used to bullying his way through Hogwarts. I don't get bullied, nor do I get looked down upon." Especially from those who are beneath me.

"Here we are," Pansy sighed as they neared the entrance. "Do we really have to go in there, Ron? Flint's lot are all in sixth and seventh year…"

"Blaise, you're in charge of keeping Pansy and Tracey safe," Ron ordered, and Blaise quickly pulled both girls behind himself. "Millie, you'll keep guard over Malfoy."

"I don't need-" Malfoy started, but a rough tug from Millie shut him up.

"Theo, you're with Daphne," Ron went on, and Theo gestured Daphne over to him. Once they were all in place, Ron put on a happy smile. Just be confident, and if anything happens, show Flint that you're far worse than him. "Are you all ready?"

"No," Pansy whined, while the others nodded.

"Dragon's Blood," Ron said to the wall, and it slid aside for him. Ron began making his way inside, and his friends slowly followed after him. As soon as they entered the common room, Ron's eyes darted towards their favorite spot. And there he is. Flint and his gang were once again occupying the couches, and Ron decided to shoot Flint a smile. I'm just being friendly, I'm not provoking him at all. As Flint's face twisted from rage, Ron began heading towards the boys' dorms. He only managed to get halfway through the common room before Flint cut him off, his gang circling Ron's friends.

"You've had your fun, Weasley," Flint spat out. "Hand Malfoy over right fucking now!" The whole common room went dead silent, with every eye fixed on the commotion.

"No," Ron replied bluntly.

"Listen here you little fuck," Flint hissed, his face getting right into Ron's. "Quidditch is about to start, and we need a fucking Seeker in order to compete."

"Then you should go find one," Ron replied, his tone suggesting that it was the most obvious thing in the World.

"I had one!" Flint roared, but Ron just stared at him. Flint then looked to Malfoy, only to find Millie blocking his view. "Malfoy, you're coming back to the Team, and that's final!"

"Don't you have a reserve Seeker?" Ron asked, and Flint turned his glare back to Ron. "I mean, Terence Higgs is still listed as the 'Reserve Seeker'…"

"Malfoy's better than him," Flint countered, and Ron shook his head.

"Malfoy doesn't want to play, and you already have someone in the Team who can play Seeker," Ron said, making sure that everyone heard him. "But despite that, you're still chasing after Malfoy. Why is that?"

"I'll fucking beat the shite out of you, Weasley," Flint warned, he was moments away from beating the redheaded tumor into another coma.

"I think you care more about having someone to torment over winning the Quidditch Cup," Ron said loudly, his ears peeled for whispers. "I think that you're just throwing a tantrum because I've taken your favorite toy away from you." C'mon, you twat. HIT ME!

"You've got a big mouth on you," Flint whispered dangerously, his eyes darting towards the whispering Slytherins. "Hand him over, and I'll leave you and yours alone. I'll even give you back your favorite spot."

"Favorite spot?" Ron blinked, and then a chuckle escaped his throat. Flint's face turned awfully cold, but Ron couldn't help but laugh at him. "You think I care about some couches? Are you really that daft?" What the fuck? This guy's brain never developed, did it?

"Flint, that's enough," came Carey's voice, and everyone looked to find the Triumvirate standing by the entrance of the girls' dorms. Ron also noticed that the Carrow twins were standing near them, and judging by their flushed faces, Ron figured that they had run off to find the Triumvirate. That's rather sweet of them. I guess that even they've taken to me.

"No, it isn't," Flint sneered at the three girls, who just cocked their eyebrows at him. Flint then looked to the other students in Slytherin, his cheeks getting heated. "Weasley is directly damaging this House's chances of winning the House Cup this year, and the 'Triumvirate' are constantly protecting him. He runs off to Merlin knows where, even abandons his duties, but they still defend him. How is that fair to the rest of us?!"

"We're not taking his side," Carey said, her eyes fixed on Flint. "We're just telling you, a seventh year, to stop harassing third years."

"Third years? Or just Weasley?" Graham Montague, a Slytherin Chaser, spoke up. "Flint's right, we're not going to win the Quidditch Cup without a Seeker! Weasley took our Seeker away, and then he went into hiding!"

"What about Terence Higgs?" Clara asked. "He was the Slytherin Seeker before Draco Malfoy, and he's still on the Team." Everyone looked to Higgs, who just shrunk in his spot. He's Flint's bitch, isn't he?

"Malfoy is better on a broom than Terence," Flint argued, his voice getting louder with each word. "These three favor Weasley, we all know it! If anyone else in this House had pulled the same stunt as Weasley, they'd have taken our side! But since it's their precious redhead who's behind this, they keep pretending like they're 'keeping the peace'!" Ron noticed some people nodding slowly, which annoyed him greatly. He's sparking rebellion, and all for the sake of keeping his chew toy. I need to put my plan forward.

"Slytherin is not going to win the Quidditch Cup this year!" Ron announced, and everyone went silent.

"What did you just say?" Flint asked, his face twisting from anger again.

"The Slytherin Quidditch Team is utter garbage compared to the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Team!" Ron went on, which earned him angry looks from pretty much everyone. "And now that Harry Potter has a Firebolt, our Team is royally fucked! Think about it! When was the last time our Team defeated the Gryffindor Team?!"

"You're a damn Gryffindor sympathizer, Weasley!" some random yelled, but Ron ignored him.

"Ravenclaw won the Quidditch Cup two years ago, and last year, we didn't have a single victory against the Gryffindor Team!" Ron continued. "Malfoy was the Seeker last year, and despite him having a better broom than Potter, he still lost! So you all tell me, why do you think that the outcome will be any different now that Potter has a damn Firebolt?! You're all in the House of the Cunning, right?! So you can all see my point here! The Quidditch Cup is already lost!"

"That's his excuse for taking our Seeker away?!" Flint roared up. "He thinks that we're not good enough, and so he can just do as he pleases?!"

"Yes, let's all listen to the guy who actually managed to fail all of his classes!" Ron laughed coldly, and Flint just went dead-quiet. He's going to hit me any minute now. "In Chess, when one of your pieces gets cornered, you don't throw the whole game in an attempt to save it! Let Gryffindor win one battle, while we win the war! I have come up with a plan that will secure the House Cup this year! And it doesn't involve us putting all of our efforts into the failing Quidditch Team that we're 'blessed' with!"

And that's when Flint's fist landed on Ron's face, which was followed by distorted shrieking. Ron landed on his back, he hadn't expected Flint's punch to have so much weight behind it. Ron's brain was genuinely rattled by the impact, and judging by the warm liquid he felt on his face, he either had a broken nose or a split lip. He could hear people yelling in outrage, but he couldn't care less. He had gotten what he wanted. Now I can end this.

"Ron?!" he heard Daphne call, and Ron sat back up. He could feel her fussing over him, all the while whispering words of comfort into his ear. But those words died when Ron smiled to himself, Flint was so fucked now.

"Nice punch," Ron said as he stood back up, while Daphne did her best to 'help him up'. "Great punch, actually." But nowhere near the Entity's level. I didn't even lose a single tooth from this one.

"Ron, are you alright?!" came Tori's scared voice, while Ron spat out the blood pooling in his mouth. I bit my own cheek?

"He hit a third year!" Sebastian yelled. "He's attacked his own House-mate!"

"Shut up!" Flint yelled at the first years, who all just glared at him defiantly.

"Go get Professor Snape," Carey ordered someone, but Ron raised up his left hand.

"It's alright!" Ron laughed, much to everyone's surprise. Ron then looked to a slightly startled Flint. "I tried being peaceful, but since you want to use violence, I'll show you violence. Incendio!" Ron's left hand felt like hot steam, and within a second, he grabbed onto Flint's right hand. The large boy let out a bloodcurdling scream, which was mimicked by most of the spectators. The smell of burning flesh filled Ron's nostrils, and he quickly let go of Flint's hand.

"FUCK!" the Quidditch Captain screamed as he fell onto his back, his burned hand curling into his stomach. "FUCK!"

"Someone get Professor-" Clara started, but Ron's yell cut her off.

"Shut the fuck up!" Ron ordered, his voice booming throughout the common room. Everyone flinched, but they did as they were told. The Triumvirate were just staring at Ron, their horror etched onto their faces. "No one will leave this common room, or I'll burn their fucking faces off!"

"Samantha, heal his hand!" Carey suddenly broke out of her stupor, though she couldn't look away from Ron. In all of her years at Hogwarts, she had never seen something like this before. Samantha quickly ran up to Flint's side, her wand already aimed at him.

"Do you lot still feel like fighting me?" Ron turned to glare at the Quidditch Team, who all stepped back with jarred looks. Ron noticed his friends just staring at Flint's writhing form in utter disbelief, while Daphne was staring at Ron with a quivering bottom lip. Ron turned his head and cracked his neck, and then he looked to Flint. The large boy was mewling like a baby, while Samantha was trying to numb his right hand.

"The next time one of you decides to speak out against me, you will remember this!" Ron told everyone, his eyes scanning every face in the room. Much to his delight, every single person looked completely terrified. Good. Fucking kneel before a God!

"Ron, stop…" Daphne whispered, but one look from him shut her up.

"Now, like I was saying before I got clocked by Flint!" Ron started, his eyes landing back on Carey and Clara. "I have come with a plan to secure the House Cup this year! You all want to win, right?!" No one said anything, much to Ron's annoyance. "You will answer me when I speak to you!"

"Yes…"

"Fuck me…"

"He's a monster…"

"Ron, enough," Carey managed, but Ron ignored her. She wanted me back… Well, I'm back!

"My friend Blaise tells me that the Quidditch Cup tends to net around three hundred and fifty House Points for the winning Team," Ron said, Flint had stopped making noise due to Samantha currently healing his hand. "We are not winning the Quidditch Cup this year, not with this idiot playing the role of Captain. So instead, we'll win the Dueling Club. Just by winning the Rank A Tournament, I'll secure five hundred points for this House. Think about that! If we win most of the Dueling Tournaments, we'll win in a land slide!"

"So here is my proposition!" Ron went on, he enjoyed the fact that no one was brave enough to interrupt him. "Those who are in Rank A will train those who are in Rank C, while I will personally train those who are in Rank D! Those who are in Rank B will practice their skills to perfection before the Dueling Club starts! Professor Snape has given us a Training Room, and we would be foolish to not fully utilize it! I don't expect us to win each and every section, but we will win the majority of them, and in doing so, secure most of the House Points in favor of Slytherin!" Ron then looked to Flint again, who was gritting his teeth with teary eyes. "How's his hand?"

"Second… Second degree burns," Samantha stammered, her eyes wouldn't look up at Ron. "I can heal this in ten minutes."

"Good," Ron said, and then he kicked Flint's side as hard as he could. Samantha jerked away from her 'patient', while Flint let out a sob. "Heal that too." Ron then looked back to his terrified House-mates. "If word of this ever gets out, I'll fucking find out who talked! Whatever happens in Slytherin, stays in Slytherin! And from now on, anyone who questions my loyalty to this House will answer directly to me! Now go to your rooms!" People quickly started moving out of the common room, not a single person wanted to be near Ron right now. "First years! You'll stay right where you are!" The first years stopped immediately, all of them looking at the departing Slytherins with frightened envy. Once the common room was all but vacant, Ron looked to his friends.

"Let's go," Blaise mumbled, his hands jerking Pansy and Tracey into action. Ron just watched them skulk away, especially a shaken Daphne, but he honestly couldn't bring himself to care about their fear right now. From now on, no one will ever speak out against them for fear of pissing me off. The only people left in the common room now were the Triumvirate, Ron's first years, and Flint.

"Flint," Ron said as he kneeled down beside him, and Flint tried to jerk away from him.

"Stop moving," Samantha said quickly. "Your hand will be just fine."

"Terence Higgs will play Seeker for you," Ron told Flint, and then Ron reached forward and placed his left palm on Flint's forehead. "You will never go after me again, and that includes Malfoy and my friends. Oh, and you'll give me back my favorite spot. Am I clear?"

"I'll tell Snape about this," Flint managed, his eyes bloodshot from tears. "I'll tell the whole fucking school…"

"No, you won't," Ron said slowly. "Because if you do, I'll make sure that everyone knows just how much you hurt Malfoy. How you beat him into pissing himself, or how you knocked him off of his broom with a Bludger. What do you think Lucius Malfoy will do to you once he finds out about your crimes against his only Heir?" Flint didn't say anything back, but Ron knew that he had gotten through to him. "Don't. Ever. Look. In. My. Direction. Again." With that, Ron stood up and looked to Samantha. "Once he's healed, come and join me in your room. We have plans to make. Oh, and make sure that Flint gets back to his room." Ron then walked over to his shaking first years, his tall frame looming over them.

"How many House Points did you make this week?" Ron asked them, and everyone looked to Mathew.

"Forty… five…" Mathew stammered, his eyes darting down to his feet. They've grown lax in my absence.

"You didn't meet your quota then," Ron said, much to their dread.

"Tori lost us twenty points on Friday," Mathew said quickly, and Ron looked to the frightened little Greengrass. "The Professors don't give us as many points anymore, and Tori got in trouble right after the study group…"

"Ron…" Tori muttered, her eyes were welling up already. Daphne had mentioned Ron's anger before, but Astoria had never imagined it to be so… malicious.

"Explain yourself," Ron said coldly, his face hovering down to catch her gaze. Enough is enough. She'll either learn to swim, or she can drown.

"Ron, that's enough," Carey said firmly, and Ron turned to face her. Her face was flushed, and her usual beauty was marred by an extremely wary look. "Stop it right now."

"You wanted me back, right?" Ron asked calmly. "Well, this is me coming back. Now let me do my job." Ron then looked back to the first years. "I will lower your quota to forty points a week, just so that it's more manageable. But from now on, I will be checking your grades personally. If any of you score lower than Exceeds Expectations in any subject, you will all be sorry. Do I make myself clear?" The first years quickly nodded. "Astoria?"

"Yes, Ron," Tori said meekly, and then she sniffled loudly.

"Your father is not here, but he has given me permission to keep you in line," Ron told her. "Your childish behavior will cease, or so help me, I'll make it my life's mission to make you grow up." Ron then drew in a deep breath, his eyes scanning the ever-shrinking first years. "I will be away tomorrow until the afternoon, so you will all study with each other until my return. Now go to your rooms." The first years all but ran out of the common room, with Astoria looking particularly frightened.

"Flint, let's go," came Samantha's voice, and Ron turned to face them. Samantha was helping Flint up, and Ron couldn't help but notice that the wizard's right hand looked as good as new. She's quite capable in Healing Magic. I will ask her to teach me some, it should come in handy during the war. The war… Why was he being forced to deal with these trivial confrontations when he had a fucking war to prepare for? No more clever ploys to keep my reputation unsullied. I'll drag them all into line if need be, and if they resist, I'll break their kneecaps.

"What was that?" Clara demanded, while Samantha dragged Flint into the boys' dorms.

"That was me reaching my limit with this House constantly questioning me," Ron replied, and Clara blinked at him. "Every third month, I have to prove myself to the people in this House. I'm done with it. From now on, anyone who questions me will leave with broken limbs. And that includes you three as well." Carey and Clara exchanged slow looks, while Ron walked right up to Clara.

"I thought about your words, Clara," Ron told her, and she just stared at his face with a slightly scared look. "Carey and Samantha are just waiting to embrace you again… At first, I really liked what I heard, but then I realized what it meant. 'Carey and Samantha are waiting for you to play the good little soldier again'… That's what you really meant, right? Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I don't blindly follow orders from people who are weaker than me. I enjoy winning, so I'll make sure that Slytherin wins this year. You can either help me, or you can step aside while I win this House another House Cup."

"We are not your enemies, Ron," Carey said, she was finally starting to regain her composure.

"No, but you don't own me either," Ron looked to her. "You want my help? This is what it looks like. I've just quashed a rebellion for you three, and you should thank me for it. If you three had your way, Flint would only get bolder and bolder. You can't expect him to understand your long-term plans, because he only understands violence. Some people just aren't worth bargaining with."

"You could be expelled for this," Clara told him, and Ron didn't miss the fact that she took a step back.

"I won't be," Ron replied, he knew that Dumbledore had his back. He can't afford to send me away. "I have powerful friends. Plus, Slytherins are infamously cowardly. No one will dare cross me again, I assure you."

"You're generalizing a lot of people," Carey said, never had she imagined that a third year would frighten her.

"I'm really not," Ron replied. "Mostly everyone in this House grew up in luxury, much like my own friends. They're all just used to things going their way, but you know what I've learned?"

"What?" Carey asked.

"Things never go your way," Ron replied. "You have to work every fucking day to keep what you have, you have to put countless hours into perfecting your skills, and you have to toil and suffer in order to gain more. That's what most of the Slytherins can't understand. They have no idea how hard I've worked to be where I am now, and so they have no clue about how far I'll go to keep what I have. But after what they just witnessed, they've got a vague idea. Always getting what they want has made them soft, which is why they'll never cross me."

"You can't behave this way, Ron," Clara spoke up. "There are rules… How are we going to explain this to the delegates of the higher years?"

"You're not going to explain a thing," Ron replied. "Who are they to question you?" Who are they to question me? I might let Ginny's lack of faith slide, but that's only because she's my Blood. I won't be questioned by these 'Noble-born' twats.

"That's not how things work," Carey said, but Ron simply shrugged.

"It is now," Ron said in response. "From today onwards, I'll be right by your side during these meetings."

"What?" both girls blinked.

"You wanted me to be your will, right?" Ron reminded them. "So from now on, I'll keep everyone in line for you. If anyone even thinks of rebelling, I'll put them in their place."

"And what do you want in return?" Carey asked, she seized the opportunity to negotiate.

"I want your respect," Ron replied, and both girls exchanged looks again. "I will no longer slave away for you just for a pittance. I want you to declare me as the person in charge when you three aren't around."

"You're a third year…" Clara started, but Ron clicked his tongue.

"I'm a third year with a lot of power and influence," Ron told her. "Do you want to know what The Quibbler is? It's a magazine that will start reporting weekly news. In a few months, I will control a portion of this country's media." Both girls went wide-eyed, and Ron knew that they had caught on. "My reach extends far out of Hogwarts now. And with people like Lord Greengrass by my side, I am a force to be reckoned with. You tell your delegates that before I start joining your meetings. That'll shut them right up."

"So from now on, you want to act as an unofficial fourth member of the Triumvirate?" came Samantha's voice, and everyone looked to find her standing by the entrance of the boys' dorms.

"If that's how you want to put it, then sure," Ron replied. "If taking charge of this House is what it takes for people to leave me and my friends alone, then that's what I'll do. You've all driven me to this."

"We've driven you to this?" Carey asked. "I told you that we've been helping you."

"Barely," Ron all but spat out, much to Carey's shock. "I've done a lot more for you than you've done for me. So don't try and guilt me into seeing your side of things, because it won't bloody work. At the end of the day, my interests are more important to me than your interests. But if we align our interests, then we all benefit. And no, I don't mean that you benefit while I buy myself another three months of peace and quiet. If you're looking for a hero who'll throw himself in front of you when things get out of control, then go to Gryffindor. This whole dance that's become a routine for me and my friends ends today. Now… What do you think about my plan?"

"We're already in favor of it," Samantha told him. "We already know that we won't be winning the Quidditch Cup this year."

"What do you think of the training idea?" Ron clarified.

"You can't expect the people in Rank A, who are mostly in sixth or seventh year, to just drop everything," Clara said.

"I'm not asking them to," Ron responded. "But if they can't bring themselves to spare an hour every three days, then they have no right to complain if we lose the House Cup. You either put in the fucking effort, or you bloody fail." If I can do it, then so can they.

"What about people with N.E. ?" Carey asked.

"Are you telling me that you're so swamped with your studies that you don't even have an hour to spare?" Ron asked in return, and Carey slowly shook her head. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Soft… And weak. That's what you all are, but don't worry, I'll help you shape up." And one by one, I'll drag you all to the side of the Order.

"You're going to train the people in Rank D all by yourself?" Samantha asked, and Ron gave her a nod.

"The second years need a firm hand, and since Rank D is filled with their numbers, I'll take charge of them," Ron replied. "You and the other Rank A students need to help the people in Rank C, while Carey and Clara will focus on those in Rank B. If we win all the Ranked Tournament sets, we'll make one thousand House Points. That's enough to trump the Quidditch Cup twice over. But it'll take effort on all of our parts."

"If this plan of yours backfires, we'll lose our seats," Carey told him.

"Then we better make sure that it doesn't fail," Ron responded. "Fear is a great motivator, especially for cowards. I'll take care of Rank D, just focus on doing your part." I bet they're wishing now that I stayed in hiding. Well, too late. I'm back, and now I'm never leaving. "Now, when's your next meeting with the other delegates?"

"Tomorrow," Clara replied, her eyes darting towards Carey and Samantha. "After lunch."

"Move it to after dinner," Ron ordered. "I want to be there for this one." All three girls looked like they had taken a swig from Ron's Nutrition Potion, but none of them argued. "You will introduce me to the delegates, and I'll make sure that they stay loyal to you. No more rebellions, no more tantrums, and no more self-entitled brats. Everyone will do as we say. Oh, and after the meeting, you'll announce me as your second in command to the entire House."

"Any more demands?" Carey frowned deeply.

"These are not demands," Ron corrected her. "This is the price for my loyalty. I can easily make everyone in this House my bitch, but I'm letting you three stay in charge. I'm even willing to help whenever you want, but not when people in this House have the gall to call me a 'Gryffindor Sympathizer'. I will be respected."

"This is not like you, Ron," Clara said softly, her hand touching his left shoulder. Oh, but it is. This is the side of me that I don't show you people.

"Didn't you once say that you find a 'dark side' sexy in a man?" Ron asked her, not even a hint of amusement on his face. "I am very fond of you three, which is why I haven't hurt you. But there are times when I just don't bother keeping my temper in check. If you don't give me what I want, then I'll take it myself."

"You'll get what you want tomorrow," Carey spoke up, which earned her a slightly annoyed look from Samantha. "It's not like you've left us a choice."

"You did this to yourself by not taking my side," Ron told her. "You made the wrong call, just like I did by not trusting you. So… Here we are. Goodnight." With that, Ron walked past them and into the boys' dorms. He could hear them talking, but he couldn't be bothered with their second guessing. They'll do as they're told if they know what's good for them. Once Ron reached the door to his room, he drew in a deep breath. And then, he walked into the room.

"Ron, what the fuck was that?" Daphne demanded immediately, they were all wondering the same thing.

"Mind your tone with me," Ron bit out, and she quickly closed her mouth. Tracey and Pansy just hid their gazes, while Millie seemed to be controlling herself quite well. As for Theo, Blaise, and Malfoy, Ron could see that they were smart enough to not ask any questions.

"What I just did, I did for us," Ron said, his voice much calmer now. "From today on, none of us will be looked down upon. We won't have to defend ourselves from our own House-mates, nor will we feel the need to go hide in the Sanctuary. Flint, the big bad bully, cried like a little bitch at my feet. People will remember that."

"And the Triumvirate?" Blaise asked, he for one, was already coming to terms with Ron's actions.

"They have agreed to make me their unofficial fourth member," Ron replied, much to the surprise of everyone in the room.

"What?" Daphne blinked.

"Are you serious, mate?" Theo asked.

"I am," Ron replied, his eyes landing on the wide-eyed Malfoy. Ron then walked up to Malfoy, it was time to take care of this would-be traitor. "I know all about your plan to turn the Triumvirate against me, Malfoy."

"What… What are you on about?" Malfoy stammered, but the look in his eyes gave him away.

"I am much smarter than you," Ron whispered coldly. "I've known for a while, but I've said nothing. I've sheltered you, I've defended you, and today, I took a punch to the face for you. Your plots and schemes against me end today, Malfoy. Flint will no longer come after you, nor will anyone else in this House. You have two choices before you now. You can leave us and go back to your isolated life, or, you can stay and start pulling your weight. Choose now."

Draco looked to the others, none of whom dared utter a word. This was it, wasn't it? His time with Weasley's group, his old friends, was at an end. And yet, Weasley had given him a choice nonetheless. Draco had no idea why Weasley had offered him said choice, but he didn't really care right now. It was either an uneasy alliance with Weasley's group, or complete isolation once again. If he chose isolation, he'd have no one to talk to and no one watching his back. But if he chose to stay on, then he'd be stuck under Weasley's rule. After a few moments, Draco had his answer. Under Weasley's protection, he'd actually have weight and voice in the House.

"I'll stay," Malfoy said, and Ron put his gloved hand forward.

"I'm offering you a hand in friendship… again," Ron said, his cold blue eyes digging into Malfoy's. "This is the last time that I will ever do that." Malfoy looked down at Ron's hand, and then he took a hold of it. Ron gave him a firm shake, a grin appearing on his face. "Welcome to Team Ron."

Sunday 11th October, 1993 (Greengrass Manor – After Breakfast)

"Who did that to you?" Lord Greengrass asked, a deep frown on his face. Ron had a split lip from Flint's punch, and despite Daphne's attempts to heal it, Ron had decided to keep the wound as a reminder to himself. A reminder of what he had done, and of what he still needed to do.

"Marcus Flint," Ron replied, and both Lord and Lady Greengrass waited for him to go on. "I took care of it though. Flint will never even look in my direction again, nor will he raise his hands against another student in Slytherin."

"What did you do?" Mary asked, they were all waiting for Madam Roberts in the Living Room.

"I gave him second degree burns," Ron replied calmly, much to Mary's shock.

"You did what?" Lord Greengrass frowned even more. "Ron… Are you insane?!"

"No, I'm not," Ron sighed out. "After teaching Flint a lesson, I was enlisted as the Triumvirate's unofficial fourth member."

"That's not possible," Mary said slowly. "You're a third year."

"I am, but I'm also the most powerful student in the school," Ron said. "Both in terms of Magic, and influence. I have a great deal of respect from the other Houses, and pretty much all the first year and second year students look up to me. And unlike Flint, I can actually use my brain. In a way, I took over Slytherin last night."

"And you're sharing your new found power with the current Triumvirate?" Lord Greengrass asked, he had gone from frowning to looking slightly astonished.

"They know how to run the House, while I don't," Ron admitted. "Plus, I'm busy enough as it is. This way, I get to keep on going with my own life, whilst also being a leader in the House. No one will dare go after my friends now."

"And this Flint boy struck you first?" Lord Greengrass asked, and when Ron nodded, his face turned cold. "Then you did the right thing. He needed to be reminded of his place. The Flints… A weak, diluted Family." Diluted? For a second, Ron felt his blood boil.

"What do you mean by diluted?" Ron asked, deciding that he wasn't going to let this slide. If he talks like that in the Order, they'll throw him and his wife out.

"Years of inbreeding has left them addled," Lord Greengrass replied, but Ron knew that he was just now thinking of that.

"Right," Ron said, his eyes fixed on his Mentor's. The fireplace suddenly roared to life, and Mary stood up to greet Madam Roberts. But Ron kept eye contact with his Mentor, who was now just staring back at him.

"Madam Roberts," Mary gave a polite curtsy, while the Hit-Wizard simply gave a curt nod.

"You're here on time," Madam Roberts said to Ron, who finally looked away from Lord Greengrass. Even after getting branded by the Dark Lord, he still hold his beliefs? Isn't he really close with Tracey's parents? Let me guess, Tracey's mother is exempt from his bigotry.

"Good morning, Madam Roberts," Ron stood up, while Madam Roberts put down her suitcase.

"Let's get started," Madam Roberts said curtly as she opened the suitcase, and Ron walked over to her. "We will see you around midday."

"Just ease him in," Lord Greengrass said, he was rather taken aback by Ron's earlier stare. Sebastian made a mental note of never giving into his old beliefs near the Weasleys again, they were all far too hotheaded to forgive such an outlook.

Thirty Minutes Later

"Are you warmed up?" Madam Roberts asked, and Ron gave her a nod. She had made him stretch and run around, just to get his blood flowing. "Good, start your Circuit Training. I want to see how much you've improved."

"Understood," Ron said, he planned to do whatever she said whenever she said it. I can't give her an excuse to leave. Ron stretched his back, and then he got down to start his pushups.

"How much do you remember from our previous lessons?" Madam Roberts asked, her eyes scanning his form for any errors.

"Pretty much everything," Ron grunted, his body moving up and down. Keep a steady pace, Ron. Don't overexert yourself.

"Then you remember me telling you that your Circuit Training is only half of what my Auror Recruits go through?" Madam Roberts asked, and Ron let out another grunt. "After today, you will be adding four new exercises into your Circuit Training. The jumping rope, bicep curls, chest presses, and shoulder presses. I have brought the necessary equipment with me, and from now on, it's yours."

"Thank you," Ron said as he finished up his pushups. Next one.

"These new exercises focus on strength building, and they mostly focus on your upper body," Madam Roberts went on. "We will also begin working on your form. As I said before, you're quite large for your age. The sooner we figure out a comfortable form for you, the sooner we can start training you in Dueling Techniques. Do you remember what I told you about the three styles of Dueling?"

"Aggressive, reactive, and opportunistic," Ron said mid-lunge.

"Very good," Madam Roberts gave a curt nod. "These three styles are just the basic templates, but each Duelist creates their own style from one of them. Have you given any thought to which one suits you best?"

"I prefer to be aggressive, but against some people, it's better to be opportunistic," Ron replied. "At the Dueling Club, I found that being aggressive is quite easy for me. But in my Duel against Harry, I chose to be defensive until he got close enough for me to strike. The Duel lasted for longer, but I caught him off-guard quite easily."

"I see," Madam Roberts said. "Over the next month, we'll work to find a style that fits you best. But enough distractions, keep going with your Circuit Training. I will get the dumbbells and the jump rope." Right.

One Hour Later

"I must say, you've improved quite a lot," Madam Roberts smirked. "Not a single complaint so far."

"My legs hurt," Ron whined, and Madam Roberts lost her smirk. "What? That was funny."

"Very funny," Madam Roberts said blandly, and Ron shot her a grin.

"So what's next?" Ron asked excitedly. "Circuit Training is done, including the new additions."

"Now, you take a seat and open your ears," Madam Roberts replied, and Ron quickly sat down in the sand. "Over the next hour, we will work on your form. But before we start that, I want to talk to you about the Dueling Styles a bit more. When you and I Dueled, I found your style to be… wild. You used strategy early on, but as the Duel progressed, you gave into your temper and became wild. That cannot happen. Ever."

"Is it because I'm more liable to make mistakes when I'm angry?" Ron asked.

"Yes, and because you could seriously hurt someone," Madam Roberts replied. "Dueling Tournaments are a place to showcase skill and strategy, they are not a fight club. If you enter the arena in hopes of hurting someone, then you'll quickly find yourself banned from them. You must be disciplined, and clearheaded during a Duel. Magic is not something to take lightly, because all it takes is one mistake. I have exercises planned for you, and if you do them properly, they will help you stay clearheaded during your next Duel."

"What sorts of exercises?" Ron asked.

"Today, we'll be focusing on breathing," Madam Roberts replied, and Ron blinked at her. Breathing? "Breathing is, in my opinion, an incredibly important part of Dueling. For one, it keeps you from losing your breath while you're running about. Secondly, having air in your lungs is necessary for when you want to say incantations. Lastly, and most importantly, it gives you something to focus on."

"Focus on?" Ron asked for clarification.

"When you're actively paying attention to your breathing, you're completing a task," Madam Roberts told him. "You are concentrating on something other than your Duel, and because of that, you're less likely to become impatient and frustrated. Your focus on breathing will keep you out of your own head."

"But won't I be distracted?" Ron asked.

"At first, you will be," Madam Roberts replied. "But with practice, it will become a habit for you."

"Got it," Ron nodded.

"Now, let's go back to the Dueling Styles," Madam Roberts said. "Like I've said before, every person Duels in their own way. Some are aggressive, some hide behind shields, and some simply bide their time in hopes of finding their moment to strike. A good Duelist focuses on one of these styles, but a great Duelist incorporates elements of all three into their own Dueling style. Each Duelist is different, so you need to be versatile in your own Dueling style in order to come out on top. Before we start working on your Dueling style, we'll talk a little about each style."

"Aggressive Duelists are the easiest to spot," Madam Roberts went on. "As the name suggests, they are purely on the offensive. Now, there's nothing wrong with that. In some Duels, it is better to be aggressive than it is to be reactive. For example… If you know that your opponent is slow and easy to corner, then being aggressive is the perfect strategy. Not to mention that aggressive Duelists tend to win simply because they scare their opponents into making mistakes. Can you tell me what the disadvantages of being overly aggressive are?"

"You'd have poor defense," Ron replied, and Madam Roberts waited for him to go on. "You're also likely to get tired more quickly. You could potentially stop paying attention in your anger, which would lead to you getting stunned." What else? "Oh, and you'd probably excel in Curses rather than the other branches of Magic."

"Good," Madam Roberts gave a curt nod. "An aggressive Duelist can easily be defeated by a composed opportunistic Duelist. If a Duelist is more opportunistic than they are aggressive and reactive, they can usually be spotted by their conserved demeanor. Unlike the reactive Duelist, an opportunistic one will rely more on dodging and retaliation instead of just putting up shields. This method of Dueling is all about being adaptive, and those who are skilled at it tend to win more often than not. In order to defeat them, you have to make sure that they don't get a chance to adapt. If there are no weaknesses in your style for them to exploit, they'll make a mistake much sooner than you will."

"And this brings us to the last style; Reactive Duelists," Madam Roberts continued. "A reactive Duelist is the person who will put up a shield at the beginning of a Duel, and then, they'll just wait out the storm. We call them 'reactive', but the word 'defensive' is a far more accurate description. Now, there is absolutely nothing wrong with this kind of Dueling. Some people tend to call reactive Duelists cowards, but I am not one of them. A powerful reactive Duelist controls the tempo of the Duel. By being on the defensive, they let you burn through your own stamina and Magical Core, and when you're at your weakest, they end the fight."

"I've faced a reactive Duelist before," Ron told her, and curiosity flashed across her face. "Her name is Hermione Granger, and just like you said, she put up a shield at the start of the Duel. And this shield was damn near impenetrable, much stronger than my own. She won four out of five Duels simply by tiring her opponents out. Not to mention that she can disarm people Non-verbally."

"And you defeated her?" Madam Roberts asked.

"In about five seconds," Ron replied.

"Five seconds?" Madam Roberts repeated. "How?"

"Wingardium Leviosa," Ron chanted under his breath, and then with a flick of his left hand, he made some sand shoot up into the air. "I did that right under her, and her shield dropped because she got startled."

"The Levitation Charm," Madam Roberts nodded slowly. "It bypasses shields… I must admit myself impressed, Ronald. Very clever."

"Thanks," Ron smiled proudly.

"This Hermione Granger has a much stronger shield than you? And she can cast the Disarming Charm Non-verbally?" Madam Roberts asked, she was also quite impressed with this girl.

"Oh, Hermione's a genius," Ron replied. "She's doing every elective subject, and from what I know, she's pretty much dominating her classes. Except the ones that I'm in, of course. But truth be told, she answers most of the questions in them as well."

"And yet you defeated her in five seconds," Madam Roberts noted, and Ron simply shrugged. "Think, Ronald. What is the most glaring disadvantage of a reactive Duelist? Your friend Hermione is clearly a victim of it."

"They're not very good at being offensive?" Ron asked, and Madam Roberts slowly shook her head. Damn.

"Most reactive Duelists are far too… relaxed," Madam Roberts told him. "They fall into the trap of complacency, which in turn puts their minds at ease. So when someone does something out of the ordinary, or gets past their defenses, they panic. You should never fall into this sort of thinking, Ronald. It is a death sentence."

"Death sentence?" Ron blinked, and Madam Roberts' lips pursed.

"Auror Academy habits," Madam Roberts told him, and Ron nodded in understanding. "What I'm saying is that overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer. The reactive Duelists who tend to win tournaments never give into it."

"So you want me to be aggressive against weaker opponents, reactive towards stronger opponents, and opportunistic against opponents who are on my level?" Ron asked, and gave him a curt nod.

"Hit-Wizards employ their own type of Dueling style, and believe me, it works," Madam Roberts said. "We study the opponent, and then we adapt. In a way, it is more seeped in opportunistic Dueling, but I like to think that it's a completely different style. Depending on our opponent, and environment, we employ different methods to come out on top. From what you've told me about your Duel with Hermione Granger, you have a suitable mind for our style. Over the next month, we'll pinpoint which style is best for you." I like the sound of this Hit-Wizard style the most. Reactive is probably my least favorite, while being aggressive has far too many disadvantages. Especially for a short-tempered bloke like me.

"Stand up," Madam Roberts ordered, and Ron jumped to his feet. "Today, I want to focus on your form." Madam Roberts then walked up to him and turned his body side-ways, her eyes assessing his height. "Merlin, boy… Will you stop growing?"

"I can't really help that," Ron commented. "My dad's side of the Family are all massive."

"Only a blind person would fail to hit you," Madam Roberts frowned a little, her knuckles digging into his back. Ow! She's doing that again! "Back straight, Ronald. And bend your front knee a little." Ron did as he was told, his wand hand facing where the opponent would be. Madam Roberts then moved in front of him, her eyes scanning every part of him. "Good. Now you're a thinner target."

"I can't really move backwards in this position," Ron stated. "And my left hand is behind me… I use that hand to cast Wandless Magic."

"I see," Madam Roberts gave a curt nod. "Show me the stand that you used during the Dueling Club." I didn't really use one during the Dueling Club. I'll just show her my stand when I'm practicing against multiple dummies.

"Alright," Ron said, and then he got into position. His hands were slightly raised at his sides, and his knees were both bent so that he could dodge either way with relative ease. Madam Roberts circled him, an unreadable expression on her face.

"This form reminds me of how wrestlers in the Muggle World stand," Madam Roberts told him. "Your knees are too bent." Ron quickly fixed that, and he immediately felt taller. "Keep your wand hand ahead of your left one." Ron titled his body into position, his right hand and foot now ahead of his left hand and foot. "Back straight, Ron. You're not actually going to be wrestling." Ron straightened his back, and Madam Roberts gave him a nod. "How does this form feel?"

"It feels a lot more natural to me," Ron replied truthfully. "This way, I can use both of my hands, I can dodge more readily in either direction, and I feel more… grounded… Like I won't lost my footing."

"I see," Madam Roberts said. "Well, being a little lower to the ground does make you a smaller target, and if you feel comfortable with it, then that's what matters. Let's test this form out."

"Are we going to Duel?" Ron asked, his face lighting up.

"Yes, Ronald," Madam Roberts smirked. "And this time, I won't be underestimating you." Madam Roberts then walked twenty feet away from him, and when she turned to face him, he noticed just how serious she looked. "First, we bow."

"Right," Ron whispered to himself, and then he bowed just as she did.

"Get into position," Madam Roberts instructed, and they both took their stances. Her stance was an awful lot like what she had shown him, and Ron couldn't help but note that it was going to be more than difficult to hit her. She's not very tall, nor is she wide. I'll have to aim, which will buy her more time to get her own Spells out. "Are you ready?"

"I am," Ron nodded, and then he drew in a deep breath.

"Begin!" Madam Roberts announced, and Ron quickly fired a stunner at her. She dodged it with a simple step to her left, and Ron immediately fired a Disarming Charm at her. Much to his surprise, she shattered his Charm by stabbing it with the tip of her wand. What the fuck was that?

"Stupefy," Ron chanted once again, but just like with the Disarming Charm, she shattered his stunner with her wand.

"Stupefy," Madam Roberts muttered under her breath, and jet of red light barely missed Ron's head. By the time Ron recovered from his well-timed dodge, a scarlet light was already flying at him. Shite. Ron once again dodged to his right, but this time, a Knockback Jinx came straight at him. Ron was shocked by her speed in Spellcasting, but not shocked enough to just stand there. He kept dodging, his eyes fixed on her wand movements. How is she doing this? The moment she finishes firing a stunner, she twirls her wand and fires a Non-verbal Disarming Charm. As soon as I dodge that, she slashes her wand and fires a Knockback Jinx. It's fucking unrelenting!

"Protego!" Ron chanted, he couldn't keep dodging like her assault indefinitely. Madam Roberts continued her chain of Spells with a dead look on her face, and Ron felt his shield tremble because of her endless barrage of Spells. What do I do? I can't even fire a single fucking Spell. And she's too far away for me to push her back with my shield.

"Finite Incantatem," Madam Roberts chanted, and a sparkly red light fired out of wand. The moment it hit Ron's shield, it caused a minor explosion that completely shattered his shield. Oh fuck! And once again, Madam Roberts began her endless assault. Ron began dodging again, and he even managed to fire a couple of stunners in between, but she easily dodged them due to her thin frame. Before long, Ron was barely keeping up with her Spells.

"Protego!" Ron chanted again, and his shield was immediately bombarded with Disarming Charms, stunners, and Knockback Jinxes. Think, Ron! How do I take charge?! An idea occurred to him, and though it was risky, Ron figured that he might as well try it. He drew in a deep breath through his mouth, and once his lungs were full of air, he implemented his plan.

"Fumos," Ron said clearly, and then he began blowing air from his mouth. But instead of just air, thick black smoke poured out of his lungs. Madam Roberts' assault stopped just as Ron and his shield disappeared behind a veil of thick smoke, but instead of celebrating, Ron quickly ducked in order to dodge any incoming Spells. I did it! C'mon, what's next?

"More Wandless Magic," came Madam Roberts' voice, and she definitely sounded impressed. "I didn't know that the Smokescreen Spell could be cast in such a manner. Truly impressive."

"Expulso!" Ron chanted, while Madam Roberts banished the smoke with a Non-verbal Depulso. The moment she spotted the blue light heading for her feet, she used her wand to interrupt the Exploding Curse with a gust of sand. Damn, the Spell went off as soon as it touched something. Move, Ron! Ron quickly regained his footing and began his own barrage of Spells, which Madam Roberts dodged rather easily. Even to Ron, it was clear that he stood no chance at this distance.

"Incarcerous," Ron said, and as Madam Roberts blocked the oncoming ropes with a Shield Charm, Ron began closing the distance between them. Step by step, Spell after Spell, Ron made his way closer to her. Now!

"Brachium Colubrum," Ron chanted as he aimed his left palm at her, and an ethereal green serpent fired out of his sleeve. But much to his horror, Madam Roberts grabbed the serpent by its throat with her free hand, and then with a swift slash of her wand, cut the serpent's head clean off. The Spell disintegrated right before Ron's very eyes, and before he could even process what had just happened, a stunner sent him reeling through the air.

Ten Minutes Later

Ron woke up with a jerk, his nose filled with the aroma of burning wood.

"Easy, Ronald," came Madam Roberts' voice, and Ron's eyes slowly adjusted. I got hit… Ron relaxed back into the couch, a dreadful feeling filling his chest. I lost without even making her sweat.

"I got destroyed…" Ron muttered to himself. If she was a Death-Eater, my Cycle would be over by now.

"You did quite well," Madam Roberts assured him, though the look on her face suggested that she didn't care at all. "You adapted to my technique, and you even managed to catch me off-guard twice. Your use of Fumos was quite brilliant, as was your aimed Expulso. If you and I were the same age, I would have lost then and there."

"Right…" Ron sat up, he was truly disappointed with himself. I've gotten far too used to dummies, haven't I? She had me by the balls for the entire Duel. "I couldn't do anything against you…"

"Chin up, boy," Madam Roberts ordered. "Have enough strength to lose with some dignity." Ron flinched a bit because of her words, but he knew that she was right.

"Sorry," Ron apologized, and then he stretched his aching back. Ouch. "Did I land badly?"

"Quite so," Madam Roberts replied. "Relax, it's time I healed your muscles from today's exercise."

"Oh no," Ron sighed out, he had forgotten about the muscle treatment.

"Try to not thrust at me this time," Madam Roberts smirked, and Ron felt his whole face burn. If she asks me whether or not I've been keeping my pipe clean, I'll actually punch her in the head. "Now don't move too much, otherwise I might end up injuring you."

Ron stilled his movements, while Madam Roberts aimed her wand over his left foot. The moment he felt that familiar cool feeling wash over his foot, Ron bit down on his tongue. Don't fucking moan, cunt. Don't even make a sound. She was much slower this time, and by the time she had reached his left thigh, Ron felt the urge to break the silence.

"What was that technique that you used?" Ron asked with a shaky breath, his toes curling a bit. "You fired Spell after Spell, and I honestly couldn't find a chance to retaliate."

"It's called Chaining," Madam Roberts replied, her eyes fixed on her work. "You blend your wand movements into a never ending 'chain'. Stupefy's upwards slash turns into the Disarming Charm's twirl, which then leads to a slash for the Knockback Jinx. Rinse and repeat."

"Chaining…" Ron spoke to himself. "Bloody hell, Madam Roberts. I've never seen someone cast Spells so quickly. You were firing three Spells in three seconds."

"It is a difficult technique to master, but I will teach you," Madam Roberts promised, and Ron felt a little better. "You could have disrupted me if you knew how to parry Spells."

"Parry Spells?" Ron asked. "Wait… Is that what you did to my Spells at the start of the Duel?"

"Indeed," Madam Roberts replied, and then she started on his right foot. "How familiar are you with the Counter-Spell Charm?"

"Finite," Ron nodded to himself. "I know about it, and I noticed that you used a variation of that to dismantle my shield. Is that how you 'Parry'?"

"In essence, yes," Madam Roberts replied. "As soon as the Spell is about to strike the tip of your wand, you cast Finite to dismantle the Spell completely. This is a very advanced technique, and it takes years to perfect. If you are off by even a little bit, it won't work. It is perhaps the only way of 'blocking' the Killing Curse. Though I highly recommend that you just move out of the way when it comes to the Killing Curse."

"You undid my Spells," Ron said, and she gave him a curt nod. "Brilliant… Is that how you cut off my serpent's head?"

"Yes," Madam Roberts replied, and Ron released an awed sound. "Finite is a very handy Spell, so don't be fooled by its lack of panache. It has saved my life more times than I can count, and I will help you learn its many benefits. You are very adept with Wandless Magic, and so you should be able to cast it with your free hand."

"I could slap Spells out of existence?" Ron asked, his voice rising a little.

"Don't be foolish," Madam Roberts replied curtly, but Ron grinned to himself. I feel so much better now. Imagine me doing that at the Dueling Club! People would go wild! "Stop moving around, Ronald."

"Sorry, sorry," Ron quickly apologized, though he was still grinning. "Hit-Wizards really are the best of the best, aren't they?"

"We have to be," Madam Roberts replied, she wasn't even fazed by his compliment.

"So when will you teach me these techniques?" Ron asked.

"Once we've worked on your discipline a bit more," Madam Roberts replied. "Did you remember to focus on your breathing?"

"Um… No," Ron admitted.

"Once you've learned the basics, then we'll proceed to the more advanced topics," Madam Roberts told him. "You also forgot about your form when I put you on the defensive. It showed me that you were getting frustrated, which only made me continue my assault. You cannot give yourself away like that, Ronald. You must show no signs of weakness, especially against an opponent of greater skill. Remember what I told you about minds during a Duel?"

"Yes," Ron replied. "Half of the battle is fought in the mind."

"We will work on you controlling your emotions over the next few months," Madam Roberts said, and then she moved onto his right hand. "Your muscles are horribly tense… How much stress are you under?" Ron didn't reply to that, mostly because he didn't know what to say. "You will answer me when I ask you a question, boy."

"I have Chronic Stress," Ron told her. "You know that… I just… I'm always stressing about something, alright? I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop…" For my unfortunate luck to Curse me even more.

"Merlin," Madam Roberts frowned at him. "Next week, I'm taking you to a massage specialist in Diagon Alley." She then squeezed the muscles above his right collar bone, and her frown deepened. "Knots everywhere… It's a damn miracle that you haven't torn something yet." She then stopped her work on him, much to his surprise. "I can't do anything about this. I don't have the training for it, and I could do more harm than good at this point. Until we get your muscles healed up by a professional, you will not attempt any form of exercise. Understand?"

"I can't train for a week?" Ron asked, his eyes widening.

"You can either give up a week, or you can tear something and be in bedrest for a month," Madam Roberts replied. "Go and take a cold shower, our day is at an end."

Tracey Davis' POV

Sunday 11th October, 1993 (Slytherin Common Room – After Lunch)

She was still shaken by what Ron had done last night. Every time she closed her eyes, she could hear Flint screaming his lungs out. Tracey, of course, didn't like Flint whatsoever, but that didn't mean that he deserved to suffer like that. The group was divided about Ron's recent actions, with Tracey and Daphne being the only ones who were against Ron's barbaric methods. Pansy and Millie were, as usual, Ron apologists through and through. Theo, Blaise, and Malfoy were in open support of Ron, which was hardly surprising because Ron's actions had elevated him in the House, and by extension, them as well.

Was Tracey glad that they no longer had to hide away? Yes. Was she happy about the fact that Flint had been keeping his distance from them all day? Of course. But try as she might, she couldn't bring herself to condone Ron's cruelty. She did love him, probably more than it was normal, but she also knew that her stalwart friend was mentally unwell. What was normal to Ron was not normal to ordinary people. And increasingly, she had been finding herself feeling scared of him at times. When he was angry, it was hard to even speak near him. That's the kind of fear he inspired, and she couldn't help but wonder if he enjoyed dominating others in such a manner.

Her father, a man who had let himself be imprisoned and tortured instead of betraying his morals, had raised Tracey to stand by what she believed in, but around Ron, she found it best to stay quiet whenever he lost control. This was so unlike her, because unlike the rest of her friends, she was more prone to giving into her emotions. She hadn't been raised to be a quiet Lady, and most of the time, she was proud of that, but when Ron was in a foul mood, her voice refused to leave her throat.

And when it came to Ron's recent barbarism, Tracey found herself ashamed of her friend. He had burned another person's hand, and judging by his speech afterwards, Ron clearly didn't even care about how far he had taken things. There was no regret, no empathy, and no guilt in him. Tracey was saddened to admit that Ron had even looked proud of himself, as if he had done the World a service by torturing another person.

She knew that she had to say something about this, because if she didn't, Ron would do something like this again. He had a lot of people who despised him out of jealousy alone, and if those people tried to get in his way, he'd hurt them. People like Potter didn't understand that they were playing with fire, so unless they all found a way to calm Ron down, he'd seriously hurt someone down the line. Tracey despised violence, she always had, and it hurt her to see her beautiful friend use it as a means to control others.

"He listens to you," Tracey said Daphne, who was just looking over to their friends. Tracey had dragged Daphne aside for a 'quick chat', but her real goal was to convince Daphne to talk Ron down. "You have to tell him that he can't do this again, Daphne."

"I know that," Daphne sighed out, her eyes still fixed on their friends. "But it's hard to talk to him sometimes… You know that."

"Daphne, he burnt a person's hand last night," Tracey said, her voice becoming urgent. "He kicked Flint like a dog, all the while threatening everyone in this House. He's never gone this far before."

"It got results, didn't it?" Daphne frowned at Tracey, while Tracey looked at Daphne as if she were an idiot. Is she serious?

"You don't mean that," Tracey shook her head. "Don't try to sound like Pansy and Millie, alright? You and I both felt disgusted by what he did."

"Then why don't you speak with him?" Daphne asked. "Why does it have to be me?"

"Because you're his girlfriend," Tracey replied. "And out of all of us, he only listens to you or Blaise. This time, Blaise is showing Ron his full support. So it has to be you, Daphne."

"I… I just started dating him," Daphne whispered to herself. "I'm not ruining that by taking Flint's side over his."

"Flint's side?" Tracey muttered. "Daph… No one is taking Flint's side. This is about Ron, and about what he did to another human being."

"He won't see it like that," Daphne told Tracey. "He'll see it as me chastising him, while he's doing his best to keep us all together. At the end of the day, he did what he did because he wants us to be here. In this common room. Not hiding away from the World." I know that, but that's not an excuse.

"He meant well, I get that," Tracey started. "But he physically assaulted a person. He could be sent to Azkaban for what he did."

"Have you looked around today?" Daphne asked Tracey. "People are moving out of our way. The second years stood to attention when Theo, Millie, and I spoke to them this morning. There were no arguments, no tantrums, nothing… Our seats were left vacated by people, and not one person has looked at us the wrong way since last night. No one in this House has the courage to cross Ron right now. Not even the Triumvirate. Merlin, Tracey… Ron's made us untouchable. We no longer have to deal with things like petty politics."

"It was wrong," Tracey said firmly. "Ron was wrong." At that, her eyes noticed someone walk into the common room. He's back. Tracey felt her gut tighten, especially when his eyes landed on her. For some reason, Tracey felt like he was staring at her rather than Daphne, which only served to scare her a little. And then, Ron's eyes landed on the first years, all of whom were studying on a nearby table. Ron smiled at that, which calmed Tracey down a little. He's not angry anymore.

"No more of this, alright?" Daphne said to Tracey. "Just don't push him, not when he's only looking out for us."

"Daphne, please don't stay quiet about this," Tracey pleaded, but Daphne simply walked over to greet Ron. Shite! She's putting her new relationship over Ron's wellbeing! Tracey just stared on as Daphne greeted Ron with a kiss, while everyone else in the common room seemed to tense at the sight of him. Not knowing what else to do, Tracey walked over to her friends and took a seat by the fire. After a few seconds, Theo joined her.

"What was that about?" Theo asked, and Tracey simply shrugged.

"Girl stuff."

"Girl stuff?" Theo repeated, and Tracey nodded. "You two looked like you were arguing about something."

"What do you want, Theo?" Tracey asked.

"So many things," Theo smirked, but Tracey wasn't in the mood for their usual banter. "Right… Something is definitely wrong with you."

"Do you really not feel bad for Flint?" Tracey couldn't help but ask, and Theo lost his smirk in favor of an understanding look.

"It was ugly, but what's done is done," Theo said, his eyes traveling to the fire.

"Why am I the only person who doesn't agree with Ron on this?" Tracey asked herself.

"Because you're the sort of person who starts screaming when her friends are under attack," Theo shrugged casually, and Tracey looked to him with a confused look. "You don't like injustice, which probably comes from the fact that you're in a House filled with people who would find fault with you simply due to your parentage."

"But Flint is a cruel beast," Tracey argued, even though she had no idea why she trying to justify Ron's actions. Maybe it's because we love him, and that love is blinding us to what Ron is capable of. "I hate Malfoy, that's no secret, but even I felt horrible for him when he told us of what Flint had put him through. Shouldn't I be glad that Ron gave Flint a taste of his own medicine?"

"I don't feel glad about it," Theo confessed. "If anything, I wanted to flee the room when it was happening…"

"But you're… But you're happy about the results, aren't you?" Tracey asked slowly, her eyes darting towards Ron, who was still talking to Daphne.

"Of course I am," Theo replied. "We're finally back, and so far, no one has dared to even look at us the wrong way. I mean, my second years practically jumped at their homework when I told them to study."

"That's from fear, Theo… Not respect," Tracey said, her eyes also traveling to the fire.

"I don't care about the second years enough to earn their respect," Theo said calmly. "I want them to play their part, and now, they're doing just that. And once Ron is announced to be the Triumvirate's second in command tonight, we'll have a real voice within this House. What I'm trying to say is that Ron did something terrible, but a lot of good came from it. We can either be grateful to him, or we can stand in his way. I don't know about you, but I'd rather be in Ron's good books."

"He could get into so much trouble…" Tracey sighed out. I don't want him to be expelled.

"Ron's a survivor," Theo looked to Tracey. "Fifty Veelas, exploding Boggarts, killing Trolls… He's not like us, Trace. Ron always finds a way to win."

"But what if he can't this time?" Tracey asked. "What if he gets taken away?"

"He's too stubborn for that to happen," Theo smiled. "Remember the Re-Sorting debacle? Ron will be just fine." Tracey looked towards Ron again, only to see him sitting down with his first years. They look terrified… God, they're just first years. Daphne walked back into the group, and once she sat down, she shot Tracey an ice cold look. She didn't speak to him, nor will she. Not when her first date is coming up.

One Hour Later

Tracey listened to the lyrics of 'Tainted Love' from Soft Cell on her Walkman, her eyes fixed on her friends, all of whom were playing Wizard's Poker. Pansy and Daphne had returned to normal, but Tracey knew that it was just an act. Millie, Blaise, and Theo were much harder to read, but she knew that they were still shaken by the burning of Flint's hand. The only person who seemed happy about Ron's actions was Malfoy, and currently, he was reading a book with a content smirk on his face. Why is he still around? Why didn't Ron toss him away? Tracey suddenly felt someone tap her shoulder, and she looked up to see Ron looking over her shoulder.

"Ron? What is it?" Tracey asked slowly, her earphones coming out of her ears. The others looked to Ron, but his focus was only on Tracey.

"Can I talk to you? In private?" Ron asked, and Tracey felt her mouth dry up. Alone? Why? Did Daphne tell him that I'm against his actions? "Trace?"

"Sure," Tracey replied, and then she slowly stood up. Her eyes landed on Daphne, who just looked back to her cards again. Tracey then followed Ron towards the boys' room, and with each step, she found herself growing increasingly worried. She didn't want Ron to feel like she was ungrateful, because she really wasn't, but at the same time, she wanted to make sure that Ron understood the consequences of his actions.

"This should be far enough," Ron said, and then he turned to face her. "I wanted to talk to you about something, Tracey. Please just hear me out."

"Okay," Tracey said slowly.

"Malfoy…" Ron said, and Tracey felt her entire body relax. He isn't upset with me. "I know that you really dislike him, I just caught you staring at him. I've decided to keep Malfoy around, and I didn't really consult any of you. I'm really sorry about that. It's just that I don't want him taking advantage of the current climate in the House."

"The current climate?" Tracey asked.

"You know… People are scared of me, and some of them want me gone," Ron replied, and that's when it hit Tracey. He knows everything already. He saw it coming. "If we let Malfoy go now, he'll just come back as a problem down the line. But if we integrate him into the group, his interests will be tied to ours. Do you get what I'm saying?"

"You're protecting the group from future attacks," Tracey replied, and Ron gave her an eager nod. Should I tell him about how I feel? That I don't want to see him do something so horrible again?

"Things will settle down soon, and with Malfoy not hindering us, we might actually take over the House next year," Ron whispered, and Tracey blinked at him.

"What about the next Triumvirate?" Tracey asked, what was Ron planning?

"I'm not going to wait around for them to become friends with me," Ron replied. "Everyone in this House is after their own goals, and I won't just sit around anymore. No… If we are to finally be free of the stigma attached to me, I have to take charge."

"The stigma attached to you?" Tracey couldn't help but ask, this conversation was nothing like she had imagined it to be.

"It's my fault that all of you are constantly treated like garbage in this House," Ron admitted, a slightly shameful look on his face. What? "I'm a Weasley, and my Family are proud 'Blood-Traitors'. And people like Flint and Malfoy use that to turn the other students against all of you. I won't let that happen anymore."

"Ron…" Tracey muttered, her eyes fixed on his. "What people like Flint and Malfoy do isn't your fault… How can you even think like that?"

"Because over the last two years, you've all had to endure their spite," Ron said softly. "They came after me time and time again, but you all suffered as well. While we were hiding away in the Sanctuary, I noticed how sad you looked." Tracey closed her eyes at that, she had indeed been miserable. We all were.

"Ron, that was Flint's fault," Tracey sighed out, but when she opened her eyes, she found Ron staring down at his own feet.

"It was my idea to invite Malfoy into the group, remember?" Ron asked weakly. "All my fault… But while I was standing in front of the Hourglasses, I realized that our House was winning because of the first years. My first years. And then I remembered that we found the Chamber last year… That we saved the school. Enough is enough. We can't let other people ruin our happiness just because their opinions differ from ours."

"I get that," Tracey nodded her agreement. "But Ron… People are scared of you. Doesn't that bother you?"

"They're scared of me, and me alone," Ron whispered, a tired smile on his face. "They're not scared of you guys, but they won't ever hinder you either. It's alright if they hate me…"

"What?" Tracey blinked, she couldn't believe this. He's throwing himself under the bus?

"What's their hatred compared to my own Blood's?" Ron asked, though he was clearly talking to himself. His own Blood? Ginny Weasley… Fuck me, that bitch has no idea just how much she's hurt him. Tracey felt her hands clench from anger, she wanted nothing more than to smack Ginny Weasley over the head. "Anyway… Please give Malfoy a chance… If he ever says something that hurts you, I'll kick him out of the group myself." Ron then began to leave, but Tracey grabbed his left forearm.

"Um…" Tracey managed, she had no idea what to say to him. Should I really tell him that I dislike what he did to Flint? Even though he clearly did it for us. He knows that people hate him now, but he's still pushing forward.

"Tracey, are you alright?" Ron asked, his gloved hand rubbing her upper arm. Tracey just stared at his worried face, and then she had her answer.

"I'm fine, Ron," Tracey gave him a smile. "And even if everyone in this House hates you, I still love you. We all do." Ron nodded slowly, a smile appearing on his face.

"I love you too," Ron said, his voice sounding much lighter now. I hope I don't regret this down the line.

Ronald Weasley's POV

Sunday 11th October, 1993 (Slytherin Common Room – After Dinner)

"Ronald, these are the delegates of fifth and sixth year," Carey introduced, they were having the meeting in one of the classrooms in the Dungeons. "The sixth year delegates are Jack Hughes, Atif Aslam, and Maria Cortez. And the fifth year delegates are Martha Hopkirk, Septimus Smith, and Arthur Belmont."

"Why is he here?" Maria Cortez asked, her amber eyes fixed on Ron. "He's a third year."

"A third year who can knock your teeth down your throat," Ron smiled at her, and everyone just exchanged slow look. "Carey, please continue."

"Ronald will now sit in these meetings," Carey told the others, and they all began bickering immediately. C'mon…

"That's enough!" Clara yelled over the others, and everyone piped down.

"Ronald is powerful, and he has a lot of influence," Samantha said, while Ron just stood by the door with a smile on his face. "Members of the other Houses respect him, and all the first and second years look up to him. He's right where he belongs."

"This is against our traditions," Atif Aslam shook his head, he was clearly quite upset about this. "He's… He's a third year… He has no place amongst us."

"Be careful, Atif," Carey whispered coldly. "You forget that the Triumvirate makes all the decisions. You are simply here because we allow you to be here."

"I've been a representative since third year," Atif frowned deeply.

"But without our consent, you'll never be a Triumvirate member," Clara said sweetly, and Atif frowned down at the table. "Ron, why don't you take a seat?"

"Thanks," Ron said, and then he sat down on the opposite end from the Triumvirate.

"And what's his role here?" Arthur Belmont asked.

"Ron will act as our second," Carey replied, and everyone but Ron and the Triumvirate looked scandalized. Here we go.

"You're giving him power over us?!" Maria Cortez shot out of her seat.

"You three do favor him!" Martha Hopkirk accused.

"I will not accept a third year having power over me!" Jack Hughes bellowed, and the other delegates nodded their agreements. Ron simply watched them all, his forearms resting the handles of his chair. They're going to storm out of here.

"Brachium Colubrum," Ron chanted softly, and two ethereal serpents slithered out of his sleeves. The left one slid onto the table, hissing angrily as it passed by the now frightened delegates. The right one wrapped itself around Ron's upper body, its green glow lighting up Ron's cold face. "Sit. Back. Down."

The delegates all exchanged panicked looks, but they did as they were told. Ron turned his head and cracked his neck, much to their bewilderment. Ron then crossed his legs, his glowing face scanning everyone in the room. His ethereal serpents continued to hiss in an intimidating manner, which kept even the Triumvirate quiet.

"I am here because I'm the most powerful student in Slytherin," Ron told everyone. "Not only am I more powerful than all of you, but I also hold more influence than you. The Triumvirate understand that, and they have decided that they wish to value results over 'traditions'. I secured us the House Cup in my first year, and if you help me, we can do it again." Ron's left serpent raised its head, its ethereal eyes glowing at Martha Hopkirk.

"Ron's first years have given us a huge lead in just one month," Clara spoke up, and everyone looked to her. "Sure, it was our plan to involve them, but without Ron, it wouldn't have worked. He has never failed us, which is more than we can say for the rest of you."

"The fifth years haven't met a single quota so far," Samantha frowned at the fifth year delegates. "Failure will no longer be rewarded with power and position. Not while we're the Triumvirate. From now on, your results will speak for you."

"This… This is unheard of," Jack Hughes piped up, but Ron's left serpent shot across the table in order to hiss into the frightened boy's face. Easy. Don't hurt anyone, just scare them.

"You were saying, Jack?" Carey asked, and Jack Hughes hid his gaze from the ghostly serpent.

"We have been far too lenient with all of you," Samantha frowned at the delegates. "That ends today. If you want to win the House Cup this year, then you will respect our decisions. You will obey, as is tradition. No more talk of rebellion, no more half-measures, and no more excuses."

"Are we understood?" Carey asked, and the delegates nodded slowly. "You need us far more than we need you, just remember that. One word from us, and you'll all be washing pots in the Kitchens." They're turning my inclusion to their advantage. They're acting like this was all their idea. I guess that's good for me. If the Triumvirate are openly declaring for me, no one can really question my new position.

"Now, let's talk business," Clara smiled at the delegates, much to Ron's amusement. "Ron, I understand that you have a plan to put forward."

"I do," Ron said, his right serpent rubbing its head against Ron's temple.

Twenty Minutes Later

As soon as the delegates left the room, Ron cancelled his Spell. Damn… Finally. He had to admit that he had barely managed to keep his Spell going, especially near the end of the meeting. Ron had told them all of his plan again, and this time, the delegates had paid complete attention. They had even agreed to implement it, despite the fact that they clearly didn't want Ron around.

"That went well," Ron said to the Triumvirate, who all just stared at him in response. "What?"

"You got what you wanted," Carey said coldly. "Leave." Ron blinked at her, and then he looked to the others. Samantha was giving him the same cold stare as Carey, while Clara was looking towards the door with a slightly saddened look.

"Not yet," Ron stayed in his seat. "You have to announce me to the rest of the House."

"What's happened to you?" Clara asked him. "You aren't like this, Ron…"

"Clara, don't," Samantha said firmly, and then she looked back to Ron. "We will announce you once we return to the common room."

"Why are you so upset?" Ron asked them, he couldn't help but feel annoyed with their stares. "Is it because you don't like someone else giving the orders? Or is it because you had me pegged as a simple minded moron who would let you get away with everything just because you're attractive?"

"We underestimated your ambition," Carey replied. "We won't make that mistake again."

"Ambition?" Ron cocked an eyebrow. "You think I'm doing this because I want people kissing my feet? No… I'm doing this because I'm tired of being an outsider. I'm a Slytherin, just as much as you. I'm tired of forcing my friends into exile every time some other Slytherin decides that I'm not 'good enough'. And sure, you may have talked some Slytherins down from coming after me, but that's not good enough. Not when I bend over backwards to help you three." Ron then stood up. "I want to be announced now. Get up."

The Triumvirate stared at him for a few seconds, and then they did as they were told. They all made their way back to Slytherin in silence, and Ron did his best to ignore the disheartened look on Clara's face. At the end of the day, Ron's friends were more important to him than her feelings. He liked Clara, but he didn't love her. As soon as they entered the common room, every eye was fixed on them.

"Listen up," Carey said firmly, and the chatter died away immediately. "From today onwards, Ronald Weasley will act as our second!" People burst into chatter again, but Carey silenced them by raising her right hand. "His words are our words, and you will all show him the same respect that you show us. He is our will, our plans are his plans, and whenever we can't be reached, you will go to him for direction."

"You can all return to your days now," Samantha said, and people slowly began talking about Ron in hushed whispers.

"Thank you," Ron said, but the Triumvirate left without saying anything back. Clara shot him a quick look, and when Ron met her eyes, he felt a strong pang of guilt. It is what it is… Think about your actual friends, Ron…

Ron began making his way towards his smiling friends, his eyes surveying the entire room. Most of the students either gave him nods or averted their gazes, while the rest of them didn't look surprised at all. Flint, and his gang, didn't even have the balls to meet his gaze, and for that, Ron was grateful. The last thing he needed right now was another fight. I'm tired, and I just want to sleep. It's been a long weekend.

"Congratulations, Ron," Daphne smiled at him, and he managed a weak smile back as he sat down beside her. She squeezed herself into his side, something that greatly pleased Pansy.

"So… You're officially a leader in this House now," Malfoy said, and Ron could see the jealousy on his face. "What now?"

"Now… Nothing," Ron replied, and everyone waited for him to go on. "Millie, Theo, and Daphne will keep working with the second years, while the rest of you will make sure to impress the Rank A students during your training. Oh, and don't abuse my new position too much. The older delegates aren't completely on board yet, and I don't want them to find an excuse to come after us." Ron then looked to Malfoy. "Keep away from Flint's gang, they still might try something stupid."

"Sure, King Weasley," Malfoy said, and then he returned to his book.

"Fucking prick," Tracey hissed, but Malfoy ignored her.

"Ignore him, he's just jealous of Ron's new standing in the House," Millie said, and then she shot Ron a smile. "Congratulations, Ron. You've done really well." Then why do I feel like shite?

"Thanks," Ron said, and then he closed his eyes. I'll just sleep off my guilt. Clara, Carey, and Samantha will come around in time. You can't please everyone, that's what Snape said.

Lucius Malfoy's POV

Monday 12th October, 1993 (Hungarian Forests – Late Afternoon)

Merlin, he missed his wife. For the last few days, all he could think about was Narcissa. Narcissa, and Draco. He hadn't heard a single word about his son in what felt like forever. Was he eating properly now? Was he still troubled by whatever had gotten under his skin during the Holidays? Had he finally gotten himself a haircut?

Lucius had been living inside of his own head ever since the Dark Lord had found him. As much he feared to think it, Lucius couldn't help but feel great regret over finding the Dark Lord alive and well. War was coming, and this time, Lucius knew that if they lost, he wouldn't live to see the end of it. The Dark Lord seemed so much more vicious now, and judging by his startling stares at Lucius, the Dark Lord was displeased with him. Lucius feared for his own life, but more importantly, he feared for the lives of his wife and son, both of whom were no doubt going to meet the Dark Lord soon.

They had been camped with the Werewolves for the last eight days, much to Lucius' displeasure. The Dark Lord had completely taken over the horde, but kept insisting that Alexander was the new Alpha. The boy was foolish and power hungry enough to believe the Dark Lord's words. After taking over the camp, Alexander had riled up his fellow dogs to the point of savagery. Women were raped, naysayers were murdered, and once the camp had pinned under the Dark Lord's heel, Alexander was sent away with his best hunters to search for Fenrir Greyback.

"Lucius, why do you look so disheartened?" came Cornelius' voice, and Lucius turned to see the older wizard walking up to him. Lucius looked back towards the woods, he just wanted to bathe with his wife in his arms.

"I am not disheartened, my friend," Lucius replied. "I am simply waiting for Alexander's return. I grow tired of living with these animals."

"You and I both," Cornelius chuckled, much to Lucius' irritation. He's been so chipper ever since we got enslaved again. "I must admit that I miss my cellar, and the other comforts of my Manor. But we are doing good work here, Lucius. Take pride in that." Good work? We're teaching savages how to act as people.

"Where is the Dark Lord?" Lucius asked.

"Meditating," Cornelius replied.

"He's still meditating? It's been two days," Lucius pointed out.

"The Dark Lord plans our next venture," Cornelius shrugged. "We are to travel to Romania in order to make contact with the Blood Lord-"

"This is not a wise move," Lucius interrupted, and Cornelius blinked at him. "A Blood Lord, Cornelius… We cannot associate ourselves with a monster like that. Those things… If even half the rumors of their power is true, then we are making a big mistake by involving him."

"Are you questioning our Lord, Lucius?" Cornelius asked dangerously.

"I am questioning you, Cornelius," Lucius turned to face the older wizard. "If the man we met in Romania was indeed a Blood Lord, then you should be glad that he let us leave the tavern alive."

"We have the Dark Lord by our side now," Cornelius waved a dismissive hand. "With his power, that Vampire will be put in his place." I can't help but doubt that. I can't afford to show my doubts, not ever. I must change the topic.

"Is your son still friends with the Blood Traitor boy?" Lucius asked, and Cornelius blinked at him. "Have you told the Dark Lord yet?"

"Theodore will do as I say," Cornelius said promptly. "His days of associating with Blood Traitors are now over."

"For your sake, I hope so," Lucius smirked, while Cornelius just stared at him.

"Excuse me," came a meek voice from behind Cornelius, and they both looked to see a young boy waving them over. "He wants to speak with you." With that, the boy quickly scurried away. He was afraid of us. Good. Filthy beast.

"Come, Cornelius," Lucius said as he began making his way towards the Dark Lord's tent. "I believe that our time here is coming to an end." They both made their way through the camp, and Lucius couldn't help but notice how the beasts shrunk at the mere sight of them. It pleased him greatly. As Lucius entered the tent, he spotted the Dark Lord sitting on his throne like seat, his blazing red eyes fixed on his Death Eaters.

"Welcome, my friends," the Dark Lord hissed coldly, a terrifying smile on his face. Lucius quickly strengthened his Occlumency in order to hide his doubts from his Master, he knew the price of doubting the Dark Lord.

"My Lord," they both said as they kneeled before the Dark Lord.

"You may rise," the Dark Lord said, and they both stood back up. "Our time in this… fleapit… is coming to an end. I have sensed Fenrir through my Wards, Alexander bring him to me as we speak."

"Might I inquire about your plans for Greyback, my Lord?" Lucius asked, and Lord Voldemort gave him a regal nod.

"Fenrir will unite the disheartened Werewolves of Hungary under him, they are particularly vulnerable due to all of Europe enacting a Legislation against them," Lord Voldemort replied. "Once he has done that, he will bring his horde to Great Britain."

"Can he be trusted, my Lord?" Cornelius asked. "His plans for a World ruled by Werewolves is well-known."

"Fenrir is a dog, one that can't plan something as ambitious as 'World Domination'," the Dark Lord replied. "Let him keep his dreams… Once he has played his part in our plans, we will get rid of him." Both Lucius and Cornelius nodded their agreement. "As for you two… You will return home for now."

"Home, my Lord?" Lucius blinked, while Cornelius looked genuinely hurt.

"I have a task for your sons," the Dark Lord replied, and both men immediately tensed up. "Theodore and Draco… I have need of them." No… No, no, no, no… Not my son! He's just a boy! "Lucius, do you have something to say to me?" Lucius felt his stomach turn to lead, and he quickly kneeled before his Master.

"Draco is only thirteen, my Lord," Lucius said, his voice shaking slightly. Control, Lucius. "He is too young to take the Mark…"

"As is Theodore, my Lord," Cornelius spoke up, he too was kneeling now.

"I will not give them the Mark," the Dark Lord said, and both men relaxed immensely. "I need them to befriend someone… Someone very important."

"Who, my Lord?" Lucius asked.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley," the Dark Lord replied, and both men looked up with genuinely confused expressions. The Blood Traitor? Why? Wait… The Dark Lord thinks the Weasley boy important?

"My… My son is already friends with Ronald Weasley, my Lord," Cornelius spoke up, though he sounded a little scared to admit that. The Dark Lord's eyes blazed to life, and a small smile creeped onto his lipless face.

"And how close is your son to Ronald?" the Dark Lord asked, while both Cornelius and Lucius couldn't help but notice that the Dark Lord was referring to Weasley by his first name.

"Quite close, my Lord," Cornelius replied. "Theodore counts Ronald Weasley amongst his closest friends and allies."

"And does Ronald share that sentiment?" the Dark Lord asked.

"I believe so, my Lord," Cornelius replied. What's happening here? Why does the Dark Lord care about some Blood Traitor's spawn?

"What of Draco?" the Dark Lord looked to Lucius.

"Draco and Weasley are not friends," Lucius replied, his gut tightening once again. He didn't know why, but right now, he really wished that the Dark Lord wouldn't refer to Draco by his given name.

"By the time I return to Britain, I expect them to be," the Dark Lord said coldly, and Lucius could do little but nod. "Your sons will aid Ronald in whatever he sets his mind to, and if they don't, then I will hold you two responsible. They will protect Ronald from harm. That is my command."

"Yes, my Lord," both men said, their confused eyes darting towards each other. They heard footsteps from outside the tent at that, and so they both stood up and moved to the Dark Lord's side. Lucius was still thinking of Ronald Weasley's importance to the Dark Lord when Fenrir Greyback entered the tent, his towering body taking up a large amount of space.

"Kneel, Fenrir," the Dark Lord said, and the musclebound Werewolf sniffed the air.

"It is you," Fenrir said, his voice as animalistic as ever. As the Werewolf kneeled, Lucius couldn't help but take notice of his clothing. He's wearing animal hides… Disgusting creature. Fenrir looked quite different from what Lucius remembered. His teeth were now sharper, especially his canines, his grey hair was overgrown and wild, his nails resembled yellow claws, and his eyes were rather wolf-like. He looks more like a beast than a man.

"You have given into the wolf, Fenrir," the Dark Lord commented.

"He and I are the same, my Lord," Fenrir grinned, his sharp, yellow teeth on full display. "I had thought you dead all these years."

"Death has no hold over Lord Voldemort," the Dark Lord said, his eyes blazing red. Fenrir lost his grin and bowed his head, which seemed to appease the Dark Lord. "I have work for you, Fenrir."

"War?" Fenrir looked up, and the Dark Lord gave him a nod. "And our deal still stands?"

"You may turn the impure children," the Dark Lord said dismissively. "But you will not lay a hand on those who are Pure."

"And Half-Bloods?" Fenrir asked.

"No," the Dark Lord replied, and Fenrir bowed his head again. "You will also take Alexander under your wing. He is capable, and if pushed in the right direction, he can be quite useful."

"That little mutt?" Fenrir snarled.

"Mind your tone, dog," Cornelius brandished his wand, but the Dark Lord stopped him by raising his hand.

"You will take this camp, and merge it with your own," Lord Voldemort ordered. "After that, you will build a sizable force, which you will then smuggle into Britain."

"Britain is quite far away, my Lord," Fenrir said. "Smuggling an army through that much land will be difficult."

"But you will get it done," the Dark Lord told him. "Feel free to recruit other Werewolves along the way, but if you are discovered, then you will suffer at Lord Voldemort's hands."

"I understand," Fenrir said, even when kneeling down he made for an intimidating figure.

"Time is of the essence," the Dark Lord said. "Go. You have work to do." Fenrir stood up at that, and then he barged out of the tent. "You will both return to Britain for now, while I travel to Romania. Remember my orders."

"Yes, my Lord," they both said together, and then they walked out of the tent. Ronald Weasley… What's so special about Ronald Weasley?

Monday 12th October, 1993 (Malfoy Manor – Evening)

Lucius watched the grime pool around his feet, the hot water from the shower washing away the memories of his dreadful trip. In a bizarre sort of way, Lucius was glad that his trips with Cornelius were at an end. The Dark Lord had found them, and very soon, he would be in Britain. A part of Lucius was glad for the chance to Purify the Wizarding population of England, but another part of him dreaded losing his Family in the war to come.

The Elves had told Lucius that his wife was out shopping once again, and that during his absence, she had begun renovating the guest living quarters. This was a particularly odd habit of Narcissa's. Whenever she grew restless, she'd redecorate the Manor. He knew that once she was back, she'd show him her work with her usual excitement. But that excitement would die the moment he told her about his trip.

The Dark Lord was back, and he already had a task for Draco. Narcissa was not going to take this well, Lucius was certain of it. He himself was quite shaken by the fact that Draco would be serving the Dark Lord at the young age of thirteen, but what could he do about it? If he refused the Dark Lord, his Family was as good as dead. The Dark Lord was merciless, and right now, he was displeased with Lucius.

"Love, you're back!" came Narcissa's voice, and Lucius steeled his resolve.

"I'm in here, Cissy," Lucius said, and he immediately heard the bathroom door open. His wife had a bright smile on her face, and upon seeing him, it widened even more.

"You're safe," Narcissa whispered to herself, while Lucius turned off the shower.

"I am," Lucius said as he wrapped a towel around his waist. The moment he stepped out of the shower, his wife clung to his chest. "Narcissa… Your dress… I am still wet…"

"I have been going mad without you," Narcissa spoke into his chest, and he slowly put his arms around her.

"I have missed you too, beloved," Lucius kissed the top of her head.

"How was your trip?" Narcissa asked, and Lucius struggled to even reply to her. Just tell her.

"He's back…" Lucius managed, and he felt his wife tense up immediately.

"He is?" Narcissa looked up, her face showing her dread. "You… You found him?"

"He found us," Lucius replied, he had to be strong for her. "He's back, Cissy… We have a chance to cull the Bloodlines once again."

"You mean war?" Narcissa asked as she took a step back, and Lucius gave her a nod. "Merlin…"

"Cissy, we cannot show any doubt," Lucius said firmly. "Do you understand? The Dark Lord has changed… He's far more deadly now. Years of isolation have driven him mad with rage, and I believe that he'll kill us all if we resist him."

"I don't want my son growing up in a war, Lucius," Narcissa said weakly. "Our son." Lucius closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, he had to tell her.

"Think of what we could accomplish, Cissy," Lucius started. "A World without Mud-Bloods and Blood Traitors… If we serve him well, we'll be royalty in the World that he creates. Even the Dark Lord cannot hope to control the entire World by himself, he will need people like us. Pure wizards and witches… Draco could be a king someday."

"I have to tell you something, Lucius," Narcissa said, and her tone made Lucius stop.

"Is he hurt? What's happened?" Lucius blurted out. Narcissa simply gave him a sorry smile, which made his heart skip a beat.

"He's allied himself with Ronald Weasley," Narcissa said, and Lucius just stared at her. He has? "He plans to use the boy, Lucius, nothing more. Once he's done with him, Draco will turn the House against that little Blood Traitor."

"No," Lucius interrupted, and Narcissa looked quite taken aback. "If he betrays Weasley, we'll all be dead within a week."

"What?" Narcissa muttered, he had never seen her so confused before. "Love, what are you…? I don't understand…"

"The Dark Lord… He has an interest in Weasley," Lucius told his wife.

"An interest?"

"I don't understand it either, Narcissa," Lucius replied, he really didn't. "But the Dark Lord… He commanded me to make sure that Draco befriends Weasley. That he protects Weasley's interests." Narcissa looked like she had been slapped, and when Lucius tried to reach out to her, she recoiled away from him.

"Thirteen…" Narcissa whimpered. "He's thirteen…"

"I could not refuse him, Cissy," Lucius said gently. "It is a very simple task… Draco is in no danger."

"That Weasley boy is dangerous," Narcissa said frantically, and Lucius was the one who was taken aback now.

"Explain," Lucius said slowly, his brow furrowed.

"There's something not right with that boy," Narcissa told him. "I met him by chance, and just being near him made my skin crawl… That boy is not normal, Lucius… He's nothing like his Family, I could see it."

"Tell me everything," Lucius said, he had clearly missed a lot whilst he was in Hungary.

Ginny Weasley's POV

Wednesday 14th October, 1993 (Gryffindor Common Room – After Classes)

Ginny sat in her little corner, her book on Herbology open in her lap. This corner had become her safe haven as of late. It was in the far right corner of the common room, and from here, she could watch all the Gryffindors quite easily.

Right now, she could see her brothers arguing with each other, the twins had once again blown something up. Harry and Neville sat by the fire, their books forgotten as they played a game of Exploding Snap. Without Hermione there to keep an eye on them, they both tended to just relax and play games. If Hermione saw them right now, she'd no doubt scold them for not working hard enough. Oddly enough, Hermione was the person that Ginny missed most out of the Trio.

She liked Neville, and she was infatuated with Harry, but it was Hermione that Ginny missed most. Ginny couldn't help but note how weird that was, especially when she had disliked Hermione all of last year. The bushy haired witch was bossy, nosy, and a complete know-it-all, but she was also kind and understanding. Right now, Ginny really needed some understanding.

Ever since her fight with Ron, things had gradually gotten worse for her. Ron wouldn't even look at her anymore, his friends sneered at her whenever they saw her, and even her mother had lashed out at her. Luna had her own friends now, which Ginny didn't want to interfere with. Luna looked happy with her new friends, and despite wanting to talk to her, Ginny couldn't bring herself to ruin Luna's happiness with her own problems.

As for her own 'friends', Ginny had quickly learned that they preferred her famous brother over her. The only person in her year who even spoke to her now was Colin, but lately, the other girls were pressuring him to stop associating with her. Ginny, for all of her faults, didn't want Colin to become a pariah like her, so she simply left him with the other second years, all of whom worshiped Ron.

As for the Trio, she couldn't stand being near them right now. Harry brought up Ron constantly, and every time he did, his words were laced with mistrust and suspicion. Ginny could see that Harry wanted to discuss Ron with her, but she couldn't bring herself to think about Ron without feeling crippling guilt. Davis' words rang through her head constantly. Ginny had, in essence, let Ron take the blame for her actions last year, something that she had never really considered before. Suffice it to say that whenever Harry mentioned Ron, Ginny's eyes welled up and she was forced excuse herself.

Neville and Hermione, on the other hand, wanted her to talk to Ron. They genuinely believed that Ron would just forgive her if she spoke to him, but they didn't understand her brother like she did. Ron was extremely emotional, much more than the rest of his siblings. He was angry with her, she could see it. And she, despite being a Gryffindor, was too cowardly to speak to him. What if he never wanted to speak to her again? What if he was done with her?

She herself didn't even know why she had said those words to him. All she knew was that Ron was no longer 'Ronnie', and that killed her. The brother who used to chase after her was now surrounded by people who constantly chased after him. Ron had respect, power, money, and even titles. Ginny had nothing. She was jealous of him, and yet, she wanted him to spend time with her. She wanted to go back to the days where she and Ron played around in the Burrow. She just wanted to go back to a time before the Diary.

"What are you reading?" came Fred's voice, and Ginny broke out of her miserable thoughts.

"Herbology," Ginny replied, and then she noticed that the twins were holding their brooms. "Quidditch practice?"

"Not really," George replied. "We were bored, and since Percy is upset with us, we figured that we'd fly around a bit."

"Care to join us?" Fred asked, and Ginny looked down at her book.

"I don't feel like it," Ginny replied.

"Why not?" George asked, and Ginny looked back up at him. Because Ron gave me my broom. Looking at it makes my heart sink.

"I have homework," Ginny lied.

"Nice excuse," Fred sniggered, much to Ginny's confusion. "Hear that, George. Little Ginevra has homework."

"You don't have to make excuses with us, Gin-Gin," George sniggered, much to Ginny's annoyance. Go away.

"Why would I make excuses?" Ginny frowned at them.

"Because you know that we're better on a broom than you," Fred shrugged, a smirk on his face.

"That's never been proven," Ginny hissed, her book closing loudly. "I'm younger than you, so you've just had more practice."

"Sure," George nodded in a patronizing manner. "Whatever you say, little sis."

"What's your problem, huh?" Ginny shot out of her seat, her temper flaring.

"Do we have a problem, George?" Fred asked, and George shook his head. "See, no problem. Let's go, brother mine. Ginny has homework to do." I'll show you homework!

"First person to score five goals wins," Ginny challenged, and the twins shot her smirks.

"We're Beaters," George told her, and this time, she smirked at him.

"Scared?" Ginny crossed her arms defiantly, and the twins snorted.

"You're on," the twins said together, and Ginny marched past them to get her broom. I'll show them who's 'little'!

Wednesday 14th October, 1993 (The Great Hall – Dinner)

"You got lucky, Gin-Gin," George rolled his eyes, but that didn't put a damper on Ginny's smug smile.

"Sure," Ginny nodded in a patronizing manner, much to the twins' amusement. "Just admit it, I'm the better Chaser amongst us three."

"We're beaters," the twins repeated, but Ginny just kept smiling at them.

"Fine," Fred sighed. "You are the better Chaser."

"And don't you forget it," Ginny chuckled. She had beaten the twins with a score of two to five, much to her delight. All that practice has really paid off. I should keep at it, and maybe next year, I can be on the Team as well. The thought of winning the Quidditch Cup with her brothers made her giddy.

"You guys played Quidditch?" came Harry's voice, he was sitting a few seats away from the Weasleys.

"I beat the twins," Ginny shrugged casually. "It was no big deal." I finally got a win.

"Has she always been so arrogant, Fred?" George asked.

"Clearly," Fred sniggered, and then he looked to the Trio. "Why don't you three join us?"

"Sure," Harry said, and Ginny immediately tensed up. They'll bring up Ron again. The Trio moved down the table, with Hermione sitting down besides Ginny with a smile.

"How are you, Ginny?" Hermione asked.

"I'm doing well," Ginny lied. "I just beat the twins at Quidditch, even though they believed that I couldn't."

"It was first to five," George waved a dismissive hand. "We're Beaters, not Chasers."

"A loss is a loss," Harry chuckled, and Ginny couldn't help but poke her tongue out at the twins. "Good on you, Ginny. I still think that you would make a great Chaser for Gryffindor." Despite it being a compliment, Ginny felt a little disheartened at being reminded that Cormac McLaggen had taken her position. "What? Did I say something wrong?"

"Ignore him, Ginny," Hermione shot Harry a frown, who looked even more confused now. "He's lost most of his brain cells because of Quidditch."

"It's alright," Ginny put on a smile. "There's always next year, right?" I beat the twins today. If I keep practicing, I'll be in the Team for certain next year. "How was Potions Club, Hermione?"

"Oh!" Hermione perked up, making everyone flinch from surprise. "We got to make a Draught of Living Death today! It's a sixth year Potion, and it was so difficult!"

"And yet, you are clearly quite happy about it," Fred smiled at her.

"Of course I am," Hermione laughed, while everyone else just exchanged looks. She's mental. "Professor Snape himself helped us throughout it!"

"Snape…" Harry and the twins pulled a face, while Ginny and Neville just shook their heads. Snape is the worst person in this school. Not even Professor, just the worst person.

"He was a little cold, as usual, but he didn't discourage me at all," Hermione said sharply. "Though he did yell at Ron for five minutes straight…"

"Ronnie got yelled at?" George laughed, and Hermione nodded. Ginny just sat there quietly, Ron had become the focus of the conversation. Again. It's alright. Maybe Hermione can tell me how he's been doing.

"He kept insisting that he could smell something burning," Hermione noted, and then her brow furrowed. "Actually… He was quite off today. It was like he couldn't pay attention for some reason. He kept looking around as if someone was talking to him."

"He's finally lost it," Fred sniggered, and Ginny shot a look towards Ron. Please don't be looking at me. She saw Ron talking to his friends, and as usual, they were all laughing while Ron was telling them some story. His hands were making dramatic gestures, and even Malfoy was laughing for a change. So he's really friends with Malfoy now… For some odd reason, she felt upset at the fact that Ron was no longer upset. I'm insane.

"In the end, Professor Snape pretty much made the Potion for us, but we got to watch," Hermione shrugged. "So to answer your question, Ginny, Potions Club was great!"

"Right…" Harry said slowly, and then he looked to the twins. "Can I join you guys next time?"

"For Quidditch?" Fred asked, and Harry nodded.

"I need to practice on the Firebolt," Harry replied. "I'm not used to its speed, and it turns a lot faster than my Nimbus 2001."

"We see no harm in it," George smiled, and then he looked to Ginny.

"Of course you can join, Harry," Ginny said softly, and Harry gave her a smile. Just please stop bringing up Ronnie…

"Actually," Fred started. "Why don't you come out too, Neville?"

"Me?" Neville blinked, and the twins nodded. "Um… No thanks… The last time I tried to fly a broom, I nearly died."

"We'll teach you," Ginny offered, and Neville gave her a wary look. "It's not so hard, I promise. You can try it on my Comet, it's not as ferocious as the other brooms. Perfect for practicing."

"Then it's settled," the twins grinned.

"We'll teach Hermione and Neville how to fly," Fred said, and Hermione gaped at him.

"No," Hermione refused curtly.

"Yes," the twins nodded.

"No," Hermione refused again.

"Yes," the twins nodded again.

"I'm scared of heights," Hermione admitted, there was a little shame in her voice. "I don't like brooms, nor do I like flying. So my answer is no."

"Hermione, please?" Ginny prodded Hermione's side. "Don't leave me with just boys…" Hermione blinked at Ginny, and then her face scrunched up a little.

"Alright…" Hermione sighed dramatically, and the twins laughed loudly.

"Well played, little sis," Fred commented.

"Very clever," George added.

"I was being serious," Ginny frowned at her brothers, and then she looked to Hermione. "Thanks, Hermione. We can talk while they teach Neville… It's been a while…"

"I'd like that," Hermione smiled at Ginny, she too had missed her red-haired friend. Ginny couldn't help but feel a little optimistic at that. She had beaten the twins, she had finished her homework, and now Hermione had agreed to talk to her away from Neville and Harry. It's been a good day.

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 17th October, 1993 (Empty Classroom – Near Lunchtime)

The smell of burning wood was still lodged in his nose, and it seemed to be psychosomatic. Or at least that's what Pomfrey had told him. Ron, however, had come to a different conclusion. This smell was related to his visions, there was no other explanation. That, or I'm literally losing my mind.

"Where are they?" Ron groaned as he began pacing, he hated staying in one spot for too long. Lord Greengrass had cancelled his work day due to a business crisis in America, which Ron understood to be Order business. Ron knew that right at this very moment, the Order was holding a meeting in Dumbledore's Office.

"Sorry about being late," came Fred's voice, and Ron turned to see the twins, Percy, and Luna enter the room.

"About time," Ron said, his eyes darting down to his Rolex. "I have plans today, you lot… Be a little more punctual next time."

"Ronnie sure is a busy man," George smirked, and Fred nodded in agreement.

"You need to relax a little, Ronnikins," Fred said, and Ron frowned at them.

"What plans?" Percy asked. "You said that your work had been canceled."

"Barnabas Cuffe has asked me to meet with him today," Ron replied. I have thirty minutes to spare, and then, I'll finally meet this fucker.

"Is that why you're wearing a brand new suit?" Luna asked, her head cocking to the side. "It's very nice, Ron. It makes you look older."

"Thank you," Ron gave Luna a wink, and she smiled at him. "And it's not new, I just haven't used it yet."

"That makes it new," Luna hummed.

"She's right, you know," Percy said.

"Please tell me that you're not about to recite the meaning of 'new' to us," Fred said, while George pretended to snore.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Percy said blandly. "I know that you two only have a finite amount of space left in those melons that you call heads."

"Melons," Luna giggled, and the twins gasped in 'shock'.

"Traitor," they said together, but Luna simply shrugged.

"Great banter," Ron said. "Now can we talk about Ginny? I really am in a rush here." Ron then looked to the twins. "Did you let her win?"

"We did," the twins said together.

"It wasn't too difficult either," Fred said. "She's quite skilled, our sister."

"Easily better than McLaggen," George added.

"She has been in a good mood lately," Percy noted. "I even saw her talking to Colin again."

"Luna?" Ron looked to her.

"I spoke to my friends, and they're quite happy with her joining us," Luna replied airily. "I've told them to not bring you up, and that Ginny is really amazing once you get to know her. They're on board."

"Well done," Ron gave her a smile.

"I'd just like to point out that Ronnie is giving us all orders," Fred said, an amused smirk on his face.

"He knows Ginny best," Percy said, while Ron checked his watch again. "So far, she's reacted exactly as he predicted." Percy then looked to Ron. "I'm getting busier with my N.E. , so I won't be around as much for the Family meetings. Try to keep the twins from ruining everything."

"Ahem," George cleared his throat. "You haven't even done anything so far."

"He's kept himself from telling Ginny off," Fred corrected his twin. "For Percy, that's the hardest thing to accomplish."

"Luna, just find a suitable moment to approach Ginny," Ron said, and Luna gave him a nod.

"Are you alright, Ron? You look tired," Luna said, her eyes fixed on the bags under his eyes.

"I didn't sleep well last night," Ron shrugged, the smell of fire kept waking him up last night. "Is that everything?"

"Harry is also joining us for our weekly Quidditch games," George said, and Ron pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Are you serious?" Ron asked.

"What?" the twins asked together.

"What part of don't let Harry near Ginny didn't you two understand?" Ron asked scathingly.

"Ron, he's not a Demon from Hell," Fred rolled his eyes. I'll show you a Demon from Hell if this backfires!

"Plus, he was right there," George added. "He asked us if he could join us, and if we said no to him, that would've been awfully rude."

"Now they care about being polite," Ron said to Percy, who just shook his head. Ron then looked back to the twins, and he drew in a deep breath. "Don't let him talk to Ginny about me, alright? He'll fill her head with nonsense, and our plan will fail."

"Understood, my Lord," Fred saluted, while George began laughing.

"These two are going to give me a bloody ulcer," Ron told Percy, who smacked George over the arm. That's when Ron heard someone screaming his name, and his eyes darted towards the door.

"Fire!" came a man's yell, and Ron realized that he was hearing things again.

"Crabbe's set the whole bloody corridor on fire!" he heard his own voice scream, followed by the screams of dozens of people. Ron's ears began to ring from all the screaming, and he felt extremely lightheaded. I'm going to faint…

"Ron?" he heard Fred call, and that's when he realized that Fred was holding him up. "Ron, are you alright?!" Ron's lightheadedness got worse, and suddenly, he was somewhere else entirely.

Ron found himself standing in store of some sort, a store filled with black and white toys and gags. I'm… I'm having a vision? Merlin! My visions are back! Ron let out a laugh at that, he was no longer operating in the darkness. I can see again! Ron quickly began looking around the store, his eyes marveling the many gags on the shelves. Demon Dung, Thor's Thunder Cracker, U-No-Poo! What is all of this?! Ron then found himself staring at a calendar, and he quickly jotted the date down in his mind. April 26th, 1997.

"Where am I?" Ron asked himself, and then he stuck his head through the nearest wall. "Diagon Alley? Near the Upper District." Ron pulled his head back into the store, and then he began looking around again. Where's Fred? This vision is about him, right? After climbing some stairs, and laughing at a tiny wooden Snape balancing himself on a monocycle, Ron found himself on the second floor.

"This place is massive," Ron chuckled, he was beginning to catch onto what his vision was showing. "Fred and George own this, don't they? Fucking brilliant!" Ron stopped in front of a product labeled as 'George's Compendium Box of Pyrotechtrix', and that confirmed his suspicions.

"They really went ahead and opened a bloody Joke Shop!" Ron couldn't help but laugh once again. "I bet mum was furious at first, but judging by the size of this place, they've done well for themselves. This is great!"

Ron then began making his way around the second floor, his eyes scanning all the wonderful gadgets and gimmicks that his brothers had made. Luna's Loop Luminators? They named fireworks after her? Ron smiled even more brightly at that, all the while wondering if anything in this shop was named after him. Probably not, but I can hope. As Ron turned the corner, he saw two feet sticking out from behind a shelf. His smile died immediately, and he felt all of his happiness simply drain away.

"Oh…" Ron muttered, his now blank face fixed on the brown dress shoes. "I see… Fred's dead."

Ron just stood there for what felt like hours, his unblinking eyes staring at Fred's shoes. And then, he finally decided to walk over to the body. I might as well figure out what happened, eh? As Ron turned the corner, he spotted a girl quivering in a corner. Who's that? She looked wild, and utterly lost as to where she was. She had a wand in her left hand, and Ron couldn't help but notice that she was wearing a uniform of some sort.

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," Ron read the tag on her crumpled shirt. Ron then looked down at Fred, who was just laying there with his eyes wide-open. There was no blood, no signs of struggle, and not even a scratch on Fred's magenta suit.

"She killed you?" Ron asked his dead brother, and then he looked to the whimpering witch. "She doesn't look like a killer to me. April 26th, 1997… I need to remember this date." Ron looked down at Fred again, and then without hesitation, he began to look around the shop once again. "Clues… That's what I need. Maybe a copy of the Daily Prophet?"

Ron made his way back downstairs, and he stepped behind the serving counter. C'mon. They don't even have a single copy of- Ron's eyes landed on a copy of the Prophet, it was stashed away between two folders. Ron quickly reached for it, but his hand passed through the folders. Fuck my arse! Ron let out a tired groan, and he sat down on the floor.

"Fred died early…" Ron whispered to himself, his dead-eyes fixed on the folders holding the copy of the Prophet hostage. "Great job, Ron… Great job. With a brother like you, he was always doomed to die…" Ron felt his eyes sting at that, but he quickly cleared them. Fuck crying! Ron stood back up, there had to be another copy of the Daily Prophet somewhere.

Ron made his way through the wall behind him, and once he found himself standing in the streets, he couldn't help but note how empty they were. Where is everyone? I've never seen Diagon Alley so deserted before. Stop getting distracted! Ron began looking around for a stand selling the Daily Prophet, and eventually, he found one. The young boy who was selling the copies looked awfully down, and Ron decided to pay him no mind.

"The Hunt for the Magic-Stealers Continues…" Ron read the title. "What's a fucking Magic-Stealer?" Ron then read the article quickly, and by the time he had finished the first paragraph, he felt bile rise at the back of his throat. This is not from the Ministry… Muggle-Borns being labelled as Magic-Stealers? No… It was all dawning on him now. He won, didn't he? He destroyed everything, and everyone, who stood in his way.

"We lost," Ron said to himself, his eyes still scanning the Daily Prophet for clues. It's 1993 right now, and by 1997, he won. In nearly four years, everything ends. Much to his own horror, a laugh escaped his throat. And within seconds, Ron's back was on the ground as he laughed hysterically. "We fucking lost, Dumbledore! He fucked us up! Four fucking years!" Ron then grabbed his hair and let out a scream, one that carved up his throat due to the intensity of it. "HE KILLED FRED! AGAIN!"

Saturday 17th October, 1993 (Empty Classroom – Near Lunchtime)

"Ron?" came Fred's voice, and Ron just blinked at him. I'm back… Ron looked around the room, only to find his siblings hovering around him.

"Are you okay?" Luna asked gently, a worried look on her face. No… Ron looked back to Fred, and the alive look on his brother's face calmed Ron down immensely. The Future's changed, Ron. You saw it, and now it'll be different.

"I'm fine," Ron lied with an embarrassed smile. "Just really tired, that's all."

"Maybe you ought to skip this meeting with Barnabas Cuffe?" Percy suggested, and Ron shook his head.

"I can't refuse him again," Ron said, and then he fixed the buttons of his suit. "I have work to do. I'll see you all at dinner." With that, Ron just walked right past them and exited the room. Once again, the smell of burning wood overwhelmed his senses, and Ron rubbed his face rather harshly. I'll go talk to Cuffe, and then I'll come back and sleep.

"Ron, wait up!" came Percy's voice from behind him, and Ron turned to see his older brother catching up to him. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Ron asked, and Percy shot him a frown.

"You nearly fainted, Ron," Percy said a little harshly. "And then, you just walked off like it was nothing. What's the matter with you?" I have to think about what I just saw, mate.

"I told you, Percy," Ron said in a calming manner. "I'm just tired. I didn't get much sleep last night, and I'm also pretty busy with my own studies. It was just a little lightheadedness, that's all. It happens to me all the time."

"What?" Percy's eyes widened, and Ron the urge to smack himself. I'm an idiot. "Is… Is it because of your Chronic Stress?"

"Yes," Ron replied, his eyes darting behind Percy.

"I sent them away," Percy said quickly, and then he looked at Ron's face with worried look. "You do look really tired, Ron… You really should just stay at Hogwarts today."

"I'll be gone for thirty minutes at best," Ron assured Percy. "After that, I'll come right back."

"Ron, I'm just worried about you," Percy said, his hand landing on Ron's right shoulder. "You've just been so… distant… lately."

"Well, our common rooms are quite far apart," Ron joked.

"Don't be like that," Percy clicked his tongue. "I'm being serious, Ron. How have you been lately?"

"I've been fine," Ron replied. "Things in Slytherin are going well, my classes are going well, and my business is being advertised daily. Oh, and I have a girlfriend! One that is arguably the most beautiful girl in my year, the Patil twins not counting. I'm doing just fine."

"And your condition?" Percy asked, and Ron could hear the hesitation in Percy's voice.

"I'm managing it," Ron replied. "Anything else, Perce? I really do need to get going here."

"Just… Just say hello once in a while, alright?" Percy asked, and Ron gave him a nod.

"Hello," Ron said dryly, and Percy's lips twitched upwards.

"You're an arse," Percy managed a weak chuckle, while Ron just smiled at him.

"I'll see you tonight, Perce," Ron said, and then he turned around and left.

Saturday 17th October, 1993 (Rosa Lee Teabag – Lunchtime)

Ron entered the teashop, and he immediately noticed Barnabas Cuffe stand up to greet him. So that's him, eh? Ron walked up to the older gentleman, who was dressed in brown Wizarding robes topped off with a bowler hat. The man looked much younger than Ron had expected, and judging by his well-kept appearance, Ron figured that the man was in his early forties at best. Very nice moustache too. Nice and thick.

"Mr. Cuffe," Ron greeted with a smile, there was no need to be hostile towards the older wizard. Yet.

"Mr. Weasley," Barnabas greeted back, and they both shook each other's hands. "A firm handshake, I like that."

"Thank you," Ron said pleasantly, and then he breathed in the shop's exotic aroma. I can't smell burning wood? Weird.

"I must say, you dress quite sharply for someone your age," Barnabas smiled at him. "Please, take a seat." Ron did as he was told, and Barnabas sat down in front of him. "Do you like tea?"

"I do, but I'm no expert on the matter," Ron replied. "I will get whatever you're getting."

"Then I must order my favorite," Barnabas chuckled, while Ron just smiled at him. He seems quite different from what I imagined. I need to be careful here.

"Please order three cups," Ron said, and Barnabas nodded slowly.

"Mr. Lovegood is coming to join us?" Barnabas asked, and Ron gave him a nod. "Very well. Rosa!"

"Yes, Barnabas?" the woman named Rosa called back.

"Three cups of Masala Chai, please," Barnabas ordered, and Rosa left for the back of the store. "Do you know what Masala Chai is, Mr. Weasley?"

"I do not," Ron admitted.

"It is a tea brewed with a mixture of Indian Spices and Herbs," Barnabas told him. "It is an extraordinary creation of the Muggles, one that I can't find anywhere but here."

"In some ways, we can learn a lot from the Muggles," Ron said calmly, a soft smile fixed on his face.

"On that, we agree," Barnabas chuckled again, his graying moustache catching Ron's eye again. So luxurious. "When will Mr. Lovegood be joining us?"

"Xenophilius isn't a punctual man," Ron replied. "Some people would even say that he has no grasp over time."

"He is an eccentric fellow, no doubt," Barnabas nodded his agreement. "You are… different… from what I imagined. I hope you take no offense to that."

"I don't," Ron admitted. "You too are different from what I imagined."

"And what did you imagine me to be like?" Barnabas asked, he was clearly enjoying their conversation.

"I expected an older gentleman, one who would yell at me for outmaneuvering him," Ron replied. "One that would use my age and inexperience to bully me into handing The Quibbler over."

"You describe a nasty person, Mr. Weasley," Barnabas replied, his black eyes fixed on Ron's. "I expected to find a young brat with too much money on his hands. One that would happily sell out Mr. Lovegood if he was offered a higher sum than The Quibbler's worth."

"Then we are both pleasantly surprised, aren't we?" Ron smiled a little more widely.

"Indeed," Barnabas smiled back. "When you rejected my offer for a meeting arranged by the Headmaster, I knew that I was dealing with a different sort of animal altogether. You are nothing like Mr. Lovegood, are you, Mr. Weasley?"

"I'm not like anyone you've ever met, Mr. Cuffe," Ron replied.

"You certainly aren't," Barnabas said. "Your feats are… historic. If we weren't here to discuss business, I'd ask you for an exclusive."

"Maybe we'll have time for that after," Ron said, and Barnabas simply smiled at him. They both heard the shop door open at that, and they looked to see Xenophilius step inside. Bright yellow robes? Merlin, Xeno… Both Ron and Barnabas stood up, while Xeno walked over to them with a sorry smile.

"Apologies," Xeno said. "I got lost on the way here."

"No worries, my good man," Barnabas shook Xeno's hand, and when his eyes darted down to their joined hands, Ron knew that he wasn't pleased by Xeno's soft handshake. Xeno is a gentle person, that's his greatest quality.

"Ron," Xeno smiled at him, and Ron smiled back.

"How are you, Xeno?" Ron asked as they took their seats.

"Quite well, and you?" Xeno asked.

"I'm doing great," Ron lied, it was disturbing just how easy it was for him to lie now. He no longer felt any guilt over it, nor did he hesitate for even a split second.

"How is your wife, Mr. Lovegood?" Barnabas asked, his eyes darting towards three floating cups. They all made space on the table, and the cups floated down onto the table.

"Pandora is coming along nicely," Xeno smiled to himself. "All of her exams show that the baby is in excellent condition."

"Congratulations," Barnabas smiled at the man. "Shall we commence?"

"Certainly," Ron sat up straighter. I can't give him an inch.

"Mr. Lovegood and I had a deal," Barnabas said, all of his pleasantness replaced by professionalism.

"Which wasn't written down, and therefore, was a plot at best," Ron countered, while Xeno just blinked at the sudden change in atmosphere.

"It was a verbal agreement," Barnabas said firmly. "Your actions caused me a lot of money, Mr. Weasley."

"You repaid that kindness, Mr. Cuffe," Ron said, his tone turning slightly bitter. "We have both damaged each other's businesses, but unlike you, I didn't try and sink your business."

"I may have acted rashly, but it was only because I wished to find out who Mr. Lovegood's benefactor was," Barnabas said, while Xeno took a sip of his tea. "Mr. Lovegood had no right to tell you of our deal."

"Did you make him sign a contract which forbid him from doing so?" Ron asked.

"He didn't," Xeno spoke up.

"Well, there you go," Ron said bluntly. "You made a mistake, and I took the opportunity presented to me."

"I am willing to offer you five thousand Galleons for The Quibbler," Barnabas said, and Xeno went wide-eyed.

"Why?" Ron asked, and Barnabas Cuffe just stared at him. "Oh, I know… It's because in the long run, five thousand Galleons is a small price to pay for taking out your only competitor. Witch Weekly, Seeker Weekly, and Chess Weekly… None of these magazines report the news, but The Quibbler does. It siphons readers from your paper, and the sooner you get rid of it, the sooner you get more subscribers."

"This is how business works, Mr. Weasley," Barnabas told him. "I have no ill will against you, or Mr. Lovegood."

"I know, which is why I will never sell you The Quibbler," Ron said, his eyes digging into Barnabas'.

"I don't follow," Barnabas admitted.

"The Quibbler isn't just a business to me and Xeno," Ron clarified. "The Quibbler is Xenophilius' life's work. He built it from the ground up, and he loves it dearly."

"And you?" Barnabas asked.

"I believe that news shouldn't be considered a business," Ron replied. "I believe that matters of importance should be reported on, rather than them being pushed under the rug."

"So you are an altruistic soul?" Barnabas asked, perhaps Ronald Weasley was just a boy after all.

"No… Quite the opposite," Ron replied, much to Barnabas' intrigue. "But I have principals that I wish to stay true to. I understand that just by coexisting, our businesses will clash. But despite that, I'm willing to stick through with my decisions. The Quibbler is not for sale, nor will it be in the Future. What I can promise is that I won't actively besmirch, or hinder, your product, but only if you agree to extend that courtesy to me as well."

"I see," Barnabas nodded slowly, and then he smiled at Ron. "A different animal… Very well, Mr. Weasley. Shall we shake on it?"

"We may," Ron stood up and put his gloved hand forward, and Barnabas followed his lead. "I will have some papers sent over for you to sign… Just to bind us in this agreement."

"I understand," Barnabas said, his eyes fixed on Ron's. I'm not Xeno, and that trick won't work on me. If I don't bind him to his words, he'll fucking shaft me again.

"Thanks for the tea," Ron said, even though neither of them had had a sip of it.

"I'll be seeing you around, Mr. Weasley," Barnabas promised, and Ron gave him a nod before heading for the exit. I'll make sure to word the document so that no one from the Daily Prophet, or anyone associated with it, can come after my business. Leave no weaknesses, Ron. Being paranoid is better than being dead.

"Ron, wait up," came Xeno's voice, and Ron stopped just outside the shop. "You didn't even drink the tea. Also… Was that it?"

"Pretty much," Ron said, and then they began heading for the Leaky Cauldron. Wait… Shouldn't he be at the Order meeting? "As for the tea, he didn't drink it either. He made me spend a lot of money, Xeno. Consider this my petty revenge."

"You Slytherins…" Xeno shook his head.

"Slytherins?" Ron asked.

"Mr. Cuffe was in Slytherin when he was younger," Xeno told Ron, who nodded slowly. "He's quite proud of that fact. Always favors up-and-coming Slytherins like yourself."

"That's good to know," Ron smiled at Xeno. "We won't be favoring anyone with The Quibbler. Just pure, honest news."

"That's great to hear," Xeno patted Ron's back. "By the way, the advertising campaign is still commemorating the victims of the St. Mungo's fire."

"They'll be doing that until November," Ron told Xeno. "I've been told that people are taking well to our gesture of respect. By November, we'll be returning to the original advertising plan."

"And hiring?" Xeno asked.

"Hiring won't start until January, I think," Ron replied. "Gornuk, our Logistics Officer, is already looking into skilled and unbiased journalists, but apparently, this is a very difficult task. I've asked Lady Longbottom for help, and she too is getting in touch with her contacts. We don't necessarily have to hire from just Britain. I was thinking of going to France eventually, Madame Maxime is a very powerful witch within France. She'd know who's looking for a job within the Media section, and whether or not they can be trusted."

"Merlin, you've really thought this through," Xeno couldn't help but say, and Ron gave him a wink.

"It's my job now, isn't it?" Ron said, and Xeno just smiled at him.

"I've been writing pieces in my spare time, just to be ready for when the time comes," Xeno told Ron. "They're shorter than what I'm used to, but that's fine because we'll be releasing four issues a month instead of just one. In a way, I'm still doing the exact same amount of work."

"I'd love to read them whenever they're ready," Ron said, and then he stopped walking.

"What is it?" Xeno asked, his gaze following Ron's towards Flourish and Blotts.

"They have all sorts of books in there, right?" Ron asked, an idea forming in his head.

"Pretty much," Xeno nodded.

"Do you mind if we take a little detour?" Ron asked, and Xeno shook his head.

"What are you looking for?" Xeno asked as they began to make their way inside. "Ugh… You smell that, Ron? Nargles have made their nests in here… Probably in the older books… They love the smell of fresh new minds coming and going."

"Fair enough," Ron said, mostly because he had no idea what else to say. Ron then walked up to the counter, where a young man was cataloguing books. "Excuse me, Sir."

"Oh, welcome," the young man beamed at Ron, much to Ron's surprise. His face just became half gum and half teeth. "We don't see many youngsters come in during the school year. Shouldn't you be at Hogwarts?"

"I'm actually eighteen," Ron lied. "I just have very young features…"

"Sorry, Sir…" the young man blinked, his smile falling because of embarrassment. He believed that? I guess Luna was right about the suit making me look older.

"Do you have any books on dating?" Ron asked, making sure to keep his voice leveled. Please just say yes. Don't ask me any questions.

"Dating?" Xeno and the young man asked together, and Ron nodded. He could already feel his ears burning, but he decided to suffer through this anyway. Without Clara helping me, I need to research proper dating behaviors myself. Ugh… Why don't they teach these things at Hogwarts?

"We do," the young man said slowly. "They're just in the back there…" Why are you blushing, cunt?!

"Thank you," Ron said, and then he walked over to where the young man had gestured.

"Dating, Ron?" Xeno chuckled, and Ron gave him an annoyed look. "Molly's been going on and on about Daphne Greengrass. Did you receive her cookies?"

"She sent cookies?" Ron asked.

"Just yesterday," Xeno nodded, and Ron let out a groan.

"They'll be here by dinner then," Ron muttered. "What's the matter with her? So fucking embarrassing…"

"She's just glad that you're growing up," Xeno said, his eyes surveying the many books before him.

"Growing up, or growing up normal?" Ron asked, and Xeno gave him a sheepish smile. "Whatever… If she wants to help me, then she should teach me how to treat Daphne on our first date. It's been causing chaos within my brain."

"Just be yourself," Xeno said. "I did that with Pandora, and she loved it."

"What was your first date like?" Ron asked.

"I took her to the Black Lake after midnight," Xeno replied, and Ron didn't want to hear anymore.

"Please don't," Ron grimaced, and Xeno let out a laugh.

"We behaved ourselves, Ron," Xeno assured Ron. "I wanted to show her the Merpeople. They come out at midnight to bask in the moonlight. Pandora said that it was best night of her life. The Merpeople even gave her a wreath made from seaweed. They were quite fond of me." Daphne would never wear a wreath made from seaweed.

"Why can't I think of romantic gestures like this?" Ron sighed out, and then he pulled out a book that caught his eye. "Dating for Teenagers: How to Treat your Partner." This might be it.

"A bit short, that book," Xeno commented, while Ron shuffled through the pages.

"It has instructions for the first date," Ron said. "Pull her chair back for her? Why? Are her arms broken?"

"Merlin," Xeno laughed. "Ron, you have to put in the effort. It may seem embarrassing, but since everyone does it, it's completely alright."

"Right," Ron said, and then he began heading for the counter. "I'll take this one, and no, I'm not eighteen. That was a lie."

"Um… Okay…" the young man blinked. "That'll be two sickles."

"Here," Ron said as he handed the clerk two sickles from his Gringotts pouch. Ron and Xeno then left the shop, and once they were in Diagon Alley again, they began making their way towards the Leaky Cauldron.

"When's your first date?" Xeno asked, and surprisingly, there was no teasing undertone.

"Hogsmeade Weekend," Ron replied. "First weekend after Halloween. You know what's funny? I have the Dueling Club on before my first date… I just hope that I don't get matched up against Daphne."

"Scared that you'll lose?" Xeno chuckled.

"Scared that she'll take the loss really hard," Ron replied. "She's really competitive, and if she loses, she tends to take it out on the victor."

"A sore loser, eh?"

"A harsh way to put it, but yes," Ron nodded.

"Well, if that does happen, don't be a sore winner," Xeno told Ron. "Everyone hates a sore winner, Ron."

"Really?" Ron asked sarcastically. "I was thinking that after I beat her, I'd put up signs all over Hogwarts celebrating my victory."

"Please don't do that," Xeno said seriously, and Ron blinked at him. I was being sarcastic.

Severus Snape's POV

Saturday 17th October, 1993 (Headmaster's Office – Lunchtime)

"This is a mistake, Albus," Moody grit out, his Magical eye fixed on the Greengrasses. "These two cannot be trusted!"

"Moody, just back off," Black argued, he had taken it upon himself to defend the Greengrasses. It's just like him to want to be the 'hero'. Foolish Gryffindor.

"Enough of this," Minerva snapped. "You two are both wasting time."

"Sirius, old dog, why don't you calm down?" Diggle said, and Black shot him a frown.

"Alastor, let them make their case at least," Vance said pleasingly, and then looked to Sebastian and Mary. "Please, speak up. You are amongst friends now."

"And I don't need to make my case?" James Davis asked, which made Snape smirk from his corner. Unlike Sebastian, James was always headstrong.

"Your story is well-known amongst us, Sir," Podmore replied. "You stood against the Dark Lord even after he tortured you. Lord Greengrass, however, aided our enemy."

"To protect his wife," Arthur Weasley spoke up.

"Sebastian, Mary… Why are you both so quiet?" Albus asked, and Sebastian cocked an eyebrow at the old man.

"I see no need to 'make my case'," Sebastian replied, much to Moody's annoyance. "You invited us here, and so here we are."

"I see," Albus smiled at the pair, while Moody grumbled to himself.

"We have begun investing in properties throughout Europe, just as you asked," Sebastian went on. "The Order will have its safe-houses by the end of the month, and all of them will be filled with rations. None of you will go hungry this time around."

"We've also made sure that these safe-houses will be fitted with the Fidelius Charm, as well as other protective Wards," James added.

"Thank you," Albus smiled at them, and then he looked to Moody. "Alastor, we must be better prepared this time."

"I still don't trust them," Moody growled, and then he limped off towards the nearest corner.

"Did you find your recruits, Alastor?" Lupin asked.

"I found two," Moody said sourly. "Hestia Jones, and Nymphadora Tonks. Andromeda Tonks and Edward Tonks have also agreed to help the Order, but they don't want to fight on the frontlines."

"Why aren't they here?" Filius asked.

"Nymphadora is in Albania, while Hestia is hiding away her parents in the States," Moody replied. "As for the two older Tonks, they don't want to be involved in our plans. The last war is still haunting them." Moody then looked to Doge. "Did you find Mundungus?"

"No, he's quite crafty," Doge replied. "He's gone into hiding since the call-to-arms was sent out."

"I'll find him," Podmore volunteered. "Mr. Doge, please don't trouble yourself with a man like him. I'll go to Knockturn Alley on your behalf."

"Thank you, my boy," Doge smiled gratefully, he was too old to visit that place.

"Alastor, I may have a recruit for you," Arthur Weasley said. "Kingsley Shacklebolt. I've worked with him at the Ministry, and he holds a great deal of respect for Dumbledore."

"I know him," Moody nodded curtly. "A bit too straight for my liking, but I'll look into it."

"I've sent my sons Bill and Charlie letters, just like you asked," Molly Weasley said. "Bill is asking for a transfer to Gringotts as we speak, while Charlie has agreed to stay on in Romania as your liaison."

"Thank you, Molly," Albus said, his smile turning slightly sad. "Forgive me for asking after your sons, but we are in dire need of more allies." Allies? Or foot soldiers? Ronald will not be pleased about this.

"They want to fight," Molly said proudly.

"What are we doing about Harry Potter?" Aberforth asked. "I understand that Hogsmeade Weekend is coming. He shouldn't be allowed to wander around anymore, not with Lord Voldemort prowling the shadows again."

"We can't just lock him away," Lupin said quickly. "Harry is just a boy. He deserves the chance-"

"Spare us your speech, Lupin," Snape finally spoke up, he could no longer stomach this same speech. "Potter now has a target on his back, and the Dark Lord is not to be underestimated."

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" Black spat out, and Snape felt his annoyance spike. "Tell us, have you bent over for him yet?"

"Sirius, that is enough," Albus spoke up, but Black just shot Snape a look of utter contempt. You'll get what's coming to you, Black. Just you wait. "Severus has earned my trust, and you will both put this rivalry to bed."

"He earnt your trust by betraying his fellow Death Eaters," Black said. "What's to stop him from betraying us?"

"Sirius, enough," Lupin said, and everyone just stared at Black.

"What if we visit Hogsmeade as well?" Vance suggested, and everyone now looked to her. "If a few of us were at Hogsmeade, Mr. Potter could enjoy the day with his friends."

"I'll volunteer for that," Diggle nodded, a happy smile on his face.

"I would also like to volunteer, Headmaster," Podmore said politely, and Black shot Snape a smirk. As if they could stop the Dark Lord. Whatever.

"Do not make contact with him," Albus ordered, and the volunteers nodded. "Harry must not be thrust into the war, not yet."

"Poor boy," Molly Weasley shook her head, while the others shared her sentiment. The Greengrasses, James Davis, Aberforth, Moody, and Snape did not share the sentiment. Once again, they all act like only Potter will suffer through the war. I wonder how Molly Weasley would feel if she knew that her youngest son has been in this war since he was eight.

"There is one more order of business that we need to discuss," Albus said. "I've heard whispers of Werewolf activity being on the rise in Hungary. Apparently, a ferocious leader has risen within their community, one that is merging packs at an unprecedented rate. In the last five days, several Alpha's have been brutality murdered by this new Pack Master. Murdered, and eaten…"

"Eaten?" Lupin asked, his eyes widening.

"This new Pack Master is a cannibal," Albus replied, and everyone exchanged slow looks. Fenrir Greyback. It has to be him. I once saw him take a bite out a young witch whilst he was in human form. "I believe that this Pack Master is Fenrir Greyback, who was last sighted within Hungary itself. As you all know, he is an associate of Lord Voldemort from the first war, and time has not made him any softer."

"He's rebuilding his army," Moody said, and Albus nodded. "Then we need to do the same."

"I can hire mercenaries to take care of Greyback," Sebastian spoke up.

"Mercenaries? You mean assassins," Vance frowned a little.

"I still have contacts from the First War," Sebastian told her. "One word from me, and Greyback will be taken care of." And the Dark Lord would lose one of his lieutenants. Not a bad strategy at all. Greyback was the primary source of the Dark Lord's Werewolves, and without him, the Dark Lord's army will be severely weakened.

"We don't operate in this manner," Doge shook his head. "Albus, tell this man that he is no longer working for the Dark Lord."

"Assassinations…" Hagrid frowned deeply. "Killin' is killin', yeh can't just pretend otherwise."

"It was only a suggestion," Mary said rather calmly. "My husband and I are unfamiliar with your esteemed organization, but we are eager to learn." Nice save, but I agree with Sebastian.

"Sorry I'm late!" Xenophilius Lovegood said as he burst through the fireplace. Lovegood then looked around the room for his wife, who was not in attendance.

"She was feeling a bit sick," Molly told him, and Lovegood nodded slowly.

"Please, take a seat," Albus said, and Lovegood quickly sat down with the Weasleys. "Sebastian, see if you can report Fenrir Greyback to the Hungarian Ministry anonymously. They are quite harsh on their Werewolf denizens, and would no doubt look into it." Sebastian merely gave Albus a nod, he clearly didn't think that this plan was going to work. Snape just looked at Albus' face, and he knew then and there that Albus was on board with Sebastian's plan. Can't break the illusion, can we?

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 17th October, 1993 (The Black Lake – After Lunchtime)

Ron stood in front of the Black Lake, his eyes fixed on the water. He could smell fire once again, which had resulted in him thinking about his vision about Fred. He had to tell Dumbledore and Snape about what he saw, especially that the Dark Lord would bring down the Ministry by April 1997. Now that he thought about it, it was a rather harrowing vision. The girl who had killed Fred clearly wasn't sane, or at least, she'd been forced to do it.

And the fact that Diagon Alley was all but deserted didn't sit well with Ron. The Dark Lord had clearly broken everyone's spirits by then. Four years. Ron looked down at the book that was supposed to help him with his dating life, and he suddenly felt his blood boil. Fuck this book! Ron tossed the book into the lake with all of his strength, what the fuck was he doing? He had no right to waste his time on dating, not while everyone was in so much danger.

"Selfish…" Ron hissed, his fists clenching. "Self fucking prick…" Ron suddenly struck his own head, which he immediately regretted. "What am I doing? I need to be getting ready for what's to come." Ron put his hands over his face, and he closed his eyes. Think, Ron. What else can you do right now?

He knew that he to go train the Rank D students very soon, but right now, he just couldn't bring himself to leave the Black Lake. It was quiet here, and he could just think. Four years… I won't have even graduated by then. How could he win so quickly? Did our efforts change nothing? Can he even be beaten? Ron suddenly heard a loud scream from behind him, and he quickly turned around with his wand at the ready. What he saw froze his blood, and his wand slipped out of his gloved hand. By the Gods…

The whole Forest around him was on fire, and off in the distance, Hogwarts was burning. The smell of fire and smoke burned his nostrils, and Ron's jaw dropped open. Hogwarts… Ron could do little but stare at the collapsing castle, its corpse engulfed in large yellow flames.

"I'M HALF-BLOOD!" a girl screamed, and Ron slowly looked to his left. Five burly men were dragging a young girl behind them, her Ravenclaw robes torn to shreds. "PLEASE! I'M FOURTEEN! PLEASE STOP! HELP ME! PROFESSOR FLITWICK!"

"It's just a vision, Ron," Ron spoke to himself, but his gut still twisted painfully. The men were laughing as they kicked and dragged her around, while a couple of them were giving her lecherous looks.

The girl kept screaming, even when one of the men pinned her down. Ron looked away at that, but as soon as his eyes landed on the lake, he wished that he had looked elsewhere. Dozens of boats were capsized, and around them were the bodies of drowned students. All of them just floating as if they were as light as leaves, their cold blue faces made Ron's face twist from horror. And the girl kept screaming, while the men grunted loudly and cheered.

Ron just stared at the water, his hands covering his ears. No… Please stop. I can't take this anymore. Ron's eyes landed on the floating body of Johnathan Fawley, and his eyes began to burn. John? They got him too? Ron knew that this was a vision of one of his past lives, but mixed in with what he saw in Fred's vision, he knew that this was his own Future too.

"Failure…" the Entity hissed in the back of Ron's mind, and Ron sniffled.

"Shut up," Ron managed, but his throat was closing up.

"Kill, or be killed," the Entity continued. "Burn them all, Champion. Kill those who wish to wrong you."

"Stop it," Ron begged, his eyes darting towards the Ravenclaw girl. She had stopped screaming, and was now just being defiled with a vacant look on her face.

"She is your sister, your mother, your Daphne," the Entity growled. "She is every person that you will fail." Ron lost the strength in his legs, and he fell down onto his knees. His eyes were just fixed on the girl, and when he noticed how proud the men looked with what they were doing, he released a pathetic sob.

"Stop…" Ron pleaded. "Just stop it…"

"Kill. Them. All." Ron picked up his wand, and he aimed it at the smug rapists.

"Confringo!" Ron yelled, his face marred by rage and sorrow. The explosion was deafeningly loud, and when Ron reopened his eyes, everything had returned to normal. Ron quickly stood up and looked around, and much to his relief, his vision had ended.

"Entity?" Ron called, but there was no answer. Ron then looked to the scorched land not too far from him, and his gut twisted again. Who was she? Ron wiped the tears from his face, and then he looked back to the lake. No dead bodies…

"Oi! You there!" came a loud yell, and Ron turned to see a seventh year Gryffindor student frowning down at him. "What do you think you're bloody doing?! Setting off explosions like that!" Ron just looked back to the lake, his head swimming from his visions. This is not my Future. Hogwarts won't burn… But my enemies will. They will all burn.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: And there it is! I hope you guys enjoyed that, and I'll leave you all to speculate on where the story is going! It gets a little crazy because of how many plots are happening at once, and mixing them all together is quite fun.

Next Chapter will be out on Sunday! Until then, enjoy your week!

Also, CHOICES is back! WOHOO! If you enjoyed that story, get back onto the hype train!