Fate

by TheTrueSpartan

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

90. Chapter 90 - Shadow and Mist

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Let me just start off with a massive apology... My Laptop's Hard-drive got knocked loose, and I kept getting the 'No Disk Found' error, which always turned off my computer. I lost a lot of progress on the Chapter, and I had to get the laptop fixed. Sorry, folks, it shouldn't happen again. Also, I wrote this out in like two days, and I didn't have a chance to read through it for errors. If you see anything immersion-breaking , let me know.

To all the people who emailed me, sorry that I was late on the replies.

Alright! Please Enjoy!

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

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

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Fate

Chapter 90 – Shadow and Mist

Ronald Weasley's POV

Tuesday 17th November, 1993 (The Great Hall – After Dinner)

"Professor Snape, can I please talk to you?" Ron approached the Potions Master, who merely cocked an eyebrow at him. "Please, read this letter." Snape took the letter, and his black eyes quickly scanned through it.

"I assume that I will not be seeing you in my Potions Club tomorrow," Snape said, and then he handed the letter back to Ron.

"No, Sir," Ron replied. "Is that alright?"

"This time… Yes," Snape said in his usual icy voice, and then he looked to Ron's friends. "You'd best be off, Ron."

"Actually… Can you escort us down?" Ron asked, and Snape just stared at him. "The Golden Trio plan to ambush me in the Entrance Hall, I just know it. Please, Sir? I've had a long day, and I don't want to argue and fight."

"If it annoys Potter, then I will play bodyguard," Snape smirked a little. Yes!

"Thank you," Ron said, and they both began walking towards the exit. Ron's friends quickly joined them, all of them making sure to stay behind Ron and Snape.

"Where was Mr. Malfoy tonight?" Snape asked.

"Um… He apparently disappeared," Ron replied, and Snape looked back to the others.

"We tried to find him, Sir," Theo spoke up.

"But he didn't want to be found," Pansy added.

"I see," Snape looked back ahead.

"I'll find him," Ron promised, and Snape didn't even react. Of course he wouldn't, he has an image to maintain. As they exited the Great Hall, Ron immediately spotted the Trio. "Any new Potions that you're working on, Sir?"

"Just the usual," Snape replied, he too had spotted Potter and his shadows. "Though I have received a peculiar order recently, which I will be showcasing in my Club tomorrow. It's a shame that you'll miss it."

"Peculiar, you say," Ron made conversation, while the Trio tried their best to step in. They wouldn't dare, not while Snape is talking to me. Tracey is a genius for suggesting this.

"Is it a Poison, Sir?" Blaise asked.

"It is indeed," Snape replied, and Blaise kept his features calm. His mother's Wedding Day was set, and now Snape had received an order for a Poison?

"What type of Poison?" Blaise couldn't help but ask.

"It's called the Hag's Tears," Snape replied. "It is not studied at Hogwarts, or any other school. One drop can cause permanent nerve damage, while two drops will send you into a coma."

"And a third drop?" Pansy shuddered.

"A painless death," Snape looked back with a dark glare, he was clearly enjoying frightening Pansy. They began their descent into the Dungeons, and Ron felt himself relax considerably. No more conflict tonight. I hope. The rest of the way was spent in silence, and once they reached the Dungeons, Snape left without uttering a single word.

"Good job, Tracey," Millie smiled at the slender girl, who gave a mock curtsy.

"Avoiding trouble is my forte," Tracey sniggered, and Ron couldn't help but chuckle. After such a harrowing day, it was nice to just laugh about something. The adults will handle Harry. I need to focus on the 'Greater Good', as Dumbledore says. They made their way towards the Slytherin entrance, and after Ron gave the password, they made their way inside.

"Are you going to go find Malfoy?" Daphne asked from Ron's right.

"Yeah," Ron took her left hand. Merlin, she has such little hands. "You have little hands."

"Pardon?" Daphne blinked, and then she checked her right hand. "My hands are normal, Ron. Your hands are abnormally large."

"It's because I have a massive-"

"Please spare me your vulgarity," Daphne clicked her tongue, and Ron sniggered to himself.

"I was going to say wand, Daph," Ron lied.

"Yes, I'm sure," Daphne said, and then she smiled at him. "You're handling your emotions really well, Ron. I just feel the need to tell you that. I half expected you to go after the Trio like you did last year."

"That wasn't very smart of me, was it?" Ron asked. Though the thought did cross my mind… Several times, in fact.

"No, but I'm glad that you learned from it," Daphne tightened her hold on his hand. As they neared the boy's room, they all spotted Clara waiting for them outside.

"Hello, Clara," Ron greeted, and she smiled at them.

"Hello, you seven," Clara greeted in her sweet voice, and they all greeted her back. "May I borrow your redhead for a moment?"

"We'll see you inside," Blaise said to Ron, and they all entered the room. Once they were gone, Clara gestured Ron to follow her. Oddly enough, they began heading further into the boys' dorms.

"Where are we going?" Ron asked, and she suddenly stopped them both.

"I heard that you didn't attend your classes today," Clara said, and Ron blinked at her. "And that yesterday, you were excused from Care of Magical Creatures because you were feeling unwell."

"Who tells you three these things?" Ron asked genuinely. "Do you have spies everywhere?"

"People like to run their mouths, and I like to listen," Clara replied, she looked more worried than seductive right now. I don't like it. I prefer banter over concern. "Carey and Samantha are worried too, Ron. I know that we don't always show it, but we do care about the students of this House. And we like you in particular, even after recent events." Ron felt a little guilty for making light of her concern, so he decided to help ease her mind.

"I've had a rough couple of days, but I'm on the mend," Ron assured her. "There is nothing to worry about, Clara. I won't drop dead on your watch, I promise." Clara stared at him for a few moments, and then she smiled at him.

"Good, it would look terrible on my record," Clara joked, her voice had returned to being sweet.

"Now I see her true face," Ron chuckled.

"And?" she asked.

"And it's very pretty," Ron replied, and she gave him a wink. "But not as pretty as Carey's…"

"You little shite," Clara laughed. "That was good, I'll give you that."

"Thanks," Ron said, his laughter dying down. "It feels nice to laugh… I didn't think that I was going to laugh today…"

"Have I made your day brighter?" Clara asked, she clearly wanted him to say yes.

"You, my friends, and a certain letter," Ron replied.

"A letter?" Clara asked, and Ron simply smiled.

"You'll hear about it in the news," he said, and she nodded slowly. "Anyway… I heard that the Triumvirate are planning a party for this weekend."

"We are," Clara lit up. "We have passed four hundred points, Ron! We're dominating the competition, and today, Gryffindor got butchered!"

"You're welcome," Ron grinned, and she blinked at him.

"That was you?" she asked slowly.

"Let's just say that three people crossed me, and I made them hurt," Ron replied. "Twenty House Points each, which in my opinion, wasn't enough."

"The Golden Trio…" Clara spoke to herself. "I heard that they were looking for you." Her expression suddenly became serious. "Are they coming after you?"

"No," Ron replied. "They just kept poking their noses into my business, and I found out." Ron then drew in a deep breath. "It doesn't matter… It's all out of my hands now, and I'm actually really glad about that. I'm already spread too thin, and I don't need any more problems."

"That's a shame because we wanted your help with the party," Clara sighed dramatically, and Ron's lips twitched upwards. I'm sure that many lads have fallen for that.

"I always have time for you three," Ron said, and she smirked immediately. "But… I don't think that I'll be much help."

"What? You've thrown really nice parties before," Clara said.

"Actually, I had a lot of help," Ron admitted. "I think that you should talk to Pansy Parkinson, she's quite brilliant when it comes to social events. She helped Daphne plan her birthday party, she helped me plan the parties in Slytherin, and she knows Pure-Blood customs better than I do."

"Pansy Parkinson," Clara said. "Samantha mentioned that her mother is quite good at throwing large parties for her friends."

"She probably taught Pansy everything," Ron said. "Seriously, get Pansy involved in this. I think she'll do great."

"You were right about Millicent Bulstrode," Clara noted. "Alright, I'll be stealing your friend for a bit then."

"Just return her unspoiled," Ron said as they began walking back.

"Unspoiled? I'm offended," Clara giggled.

"I'm serious," Ron chuckled. "Pansy sort of reminds me of you."

"How so?" Clara asked.

"Witch Weekly has really turned her into a menace over the last two years," Ron replied. "When we were at Hogsmeade, she modeled fishnet stockings for me out of the blue."

"Out of the blue?" Clara cocked an eyebrow.

"Yeah, it was bizarre," Ron said, while Clara smirked to herself.

"Did you like it?" Clara asked, and Ron swallowed thickly. You walked into a trap, Weasley.

"I… Of course, I'm a bloke," Ron said a little defensively.

"Then that's all that matters," Clara hummed, and then they stopped at the door. "Tell her to come to my room, we'll be waiting for her." With that, Clara left for the girls' dorms. Ron watched her leave, his eyes fixed on her swaying hips. Snap out of it. Ron shook his head clear, and then he entered the room.

"I have returned," Ron announced, and he found his friends playing a game of Wizard's Poker. We really need a new game.

"We started without you," Tracey smirked at him, and he feigned hurt.

"That's fine, I already told you that I intend to find Malfoy," Ron said, and then he looked to Pansy. "Pans, the Silver Triumvirate need your help."

"What?" Pansy blinked, while the others waited for Ron to go on.

"I volunteered you for the party planning," Ron started. "I told them that you were amazing at it, which you are, and that under your direction, this party will be one to remember."

"Seriously?" Pansy asked, and Ron blinked at her. What? This is good news.

"I think you built her up too much, mate," Theo laughed, while Pansy shot Theo a frown.

"I just have faith in her," Ron countered, and then he smiled at Pansy. "Just do your best, and I'm sure everything will work out. Oh… And don't let them walk all over you, alright? They may be older, but that doesn't mean that they're always right. If you have a good idea, then you make sure that they implement it. Oh… And make sure to keep us in the loop. We don't need nasty surprises."

"It's party planning, Ron," Daphne sighed. "Pansy's not going to war." I like to give speeches. It's my thing now.

"I guess I'll head out then," Pansy said, and then she gave all of her treats to Millie.

"Hey! Not fair…" Tracey grimaced.

"You're more than welcome to win them, Tracey," Millie smirked, while Pansy walked towards Ron.

"Wait outside for a moment," Ron said to Pansy, and then he walked over to his trunk. He pulled out the Marauder's Map, and then he hurried over to her.

"What's that?" Pansy asked, while the others tried to get a look at it.

"This is my secret weapon," Ron smirked, and then he hid the Map in his robes. "Let's go."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Blaise called.

"No, you lot enjoy yourselves," Ron said as he closed the door behind him.

"Did you really build me up like that to the Triumvirate?" Pansy asked as they began making their way towards the common room. "Ron, I don't want them to think the World of me…"

"I simply told them that you helped me plan my parties," Ron assured her, and then he put his arm around her. "Pansy, you'll do great. Daphne told me that without your help, her party wouldn't have been so successful. And I know for certain that mine would've failed without your guidance."

"Are you exaggerating to make me feel better?" Pansy smiled at him.

"Pansy, I didn't even know how to approach the then fourth years…" Ron reminded her.

"I guess I did help you, didn't I?" Pansy said, and then she drew in a sharp breath. "This is a great opportunity, and I should seize it."

"Exactly," Ron gave her a squeeze before letting go. "Have fun, Pans."

"Good luck on your search," Pansy said as they stepped into the common room, where they split up.

---

Ten Minutes Later

Finding Malfoy had been easy enough thanks to the Marauder's Map, the blonde wizard was hiding in an abandoned classroom in the North Wing. Ron stood at the door of said classroom, his mind coming up with a plan. It was obvious that something had bothered Malfoy during his session, and as a result, he had hidden himself away from the World. Ron understood how that felt… Sometimes, after my own sessions, I just want to be left alone.

Ron drew in a deep breath, and then he made his way inside. The classroom was dark, dusty, and overall uninviting. A perfect lair for Malfoy.

"Malfoy, I know you're in here," Ron called, the map had shown him that the Mafloy Heir was sitting in the far right corner. Ron pretended to look around, Malfoy was clearly using the Disillusionment Charm. "Really? You're just going to pretend like you're not here?" Ron then looked to the far right corner. "Malfoy, please just show yourself. I'm not in the mood for dramatics."

"Fuck off, Weasley," came Malfoy's voice, and Ron was rather taken aback. It had been a while since he had heard actual hatred in Malfoy's voice. "Just leave me alone…"

"What happened?" Ron asked as he began walking towards Malfoy's voice. "Was it Flint?"

"So now you want to talk to me?" Malfoy asked bitterly, and then his Disillusionment Charm fell apart. Ron was jarred at just how horrid Malfoy looked. The ponce who usually spent over thirty minutes each morning fixing up his appearance was now rugged and blotchy faced, and judging by his dirtied robes, he clearly hadn't bothered with finding a clean spot to sit down.

"Malfoy…" Ron stared at him, and then a thought occurred to him. "Did someone attack you? Tell me the truth, and I'll the fucker." I gave him my word, and someone still hurt him.

"No one attacked me…" Malfoy pulled his knees to his chest, his head hiding behind his thighs. "Just go away…" What happened in his session? He looks terrible. Ron slowly walked up to the blonde wizard, a small pang of pity coursing through him. "Didn't you hear me? I want to be left alone…"

"From what I'm seeing, you need company," Ron said gently, and then he kneeled in front of Malfoy. "Talk to me, Malfoy… What happened?" Malfoy said nothing. "What did you mean by 'So now you want to talk to me'? Are you upset with me for sending you away this morning?"

"Why would I be upset?" Malfoy spoke from behind his thighs, his voice was a little hoarse. He's been crying. Fuck, I shouldn't have been so harsh with him this morning. "You don't trust me with sensitive information about yourself, just like I don't trust you with information about me."

"It's not like that…" Ron sighed, and Malfoy slowly looked up. "Sorry… I don't know why I just lied. You're right, I don't trust you." Ron then moved over and sat down on Malfoy's left, both of their backs resting against the dusty wall. "I shouldn't have kicked you out of your own room like that… I'm sorry."

"Why are you here?" Malfoy all but whispered. "How did you even find me?"

"I'm here because I don't like the idea of you being alone at night," Ron admitted, and Malfoy looked to him with a tired expression. "I gave you my word, Malfoy. If you're out here alone, and Flint ends up finding you, then I'll become a liar. Plus, I don't want to see you end up in the Hospital Wing."

Malfoy went back to sulking at that, while Ron just sat there. As hard as it was to admit, Ron couldn't deny that he didn't mind Malfoy so much anymore. There were times when his dry wit was even funny, and unlike the others, Malfoy was vicious in his banter. Disturbingly enough, Ron enjoyed that sort of crude banter a lot more. Look at me… The Weasley who somehow enjoys a Malfoy's company. Mum and dad would be horrified if they saw me right now.

"No one is going to find me here," Malfoy finally broke the silence. "You can leave…"

"What if I told you that I still don't want to?" Ron asked.

"What is your deal, Weasley?" Malfoy sneered at him. "Why are you so fucking… so fucking annoying?!" Ron flinched a little due to Malfoy's sudden yell, while Malfoy shot up to his feet. "You think you're being noble right now?! Well, you're not! I don't want you near me! I don't want you talking to me! And I certainly don't need your pity!" With that, Malfoy began to march towards the exit. Where did that come from?

Ron quickly shot up to his feet, and before Malfoy could reach the door, Ron was standing in his way. Malfoy glared murder at Ron, who just frowned in response.

"I don't know what happened to you in your session, but don't take it out on me," Ron said firmly. "And I'm not trying to be noble, I just happen to give a shite about you."

"Why?!" Malfoy yelled. "I don't want you to! Fuck off already!" Ron felt his temper flare up, but he quickly focused on his breathing. Snape better name me in his fucking will for this shite.

"You really hate me that much?" Ron asked, and Malfoy clenched his jaw. "No matter what I do, you just assume that I'm working some angle with you? What? You think I have nothing better to do than to get inside your head? Is that it?"

"I think that you enjoy acting like some saint!" Malfoy snapped. "Oh, look at Weasley! He's taken pity on his former enemy! Look how fucking saintly he is!"

"Are you done?" Ron asked, his tone turning cold.

"Yeah, I'm done," Malfoy spat out. "I'm done with your group, I'm done listening to you, and I'm done doubting myself." Malfoy stormed past Ron and exited the classroom, leaving Ron to glower in the dark. No, fuck that. Ron drew in a deep breath, and then he chased after Malfoy.

"So you're just going to go back to being Flint's bitch?" Ron caught up to Malfoy. "I promise you, without me there to protect you, he'll come straight for you." Malfoy stopped and turned around, an almost desperate look on his face. "You know what I think… I think you're scared."

"Scared?" Malfoy jeered. "Scared of what?"

"Of the fact that I'm not some evil Blood Traitor like you imagined," Ron said. "That you and I aren't so different!"

"We are nothing alike," Malfoy hissed as he grabbed Ron's collar. "You and I are not alike in any way, Weasley! So don't ever say that again!" Don't clock him, Ron, don't fucking give in.

"We are alike," Ron gave voice to his recent thoughts. "We both struggle to live up to our Family Names…"

"Shut up," Malfoy shoved Ron back.

"You can't even stand the mention of your Family, can you?" Ron asked. "Every time someone mentions them, you feel like you aren't good enough… Your mind just turns in on itself."

"Just shut up right now…" Malfoy warned, he was moments away from lashing out.

"I feel the same way about mine," Ron went on. "From the day that I was sorted, I feel like I've just been fighting every single day. I feel like I'm trying to live up to an impossible standard…" Before Ron could go on, Malfoy lunged forward and punched Ron in the jaw. The sudden impact, and the fact that Malfoy had thrown his entire body into it, dropped Ron onto his side. What just… happened?

Ron rolled onto his back, a dull ache spreading across his left cheek. Then it clicked in his head, Malfoy had fucking punched him across the face. Ron slowly sat up, only to see Malfoy springing to his feet. He really threw himself at me, didn't he?

"You… You actually hit me…" Ron stood up, his eyes narrowing on Malfoy.

"I'm nothing like you…" Malfoy croaked, his eyes had welled up. "I am the Heir of Lucius Malfoy…" Ron slowly walked up to Malfoy, and once he was looming over the shorter boy, Ron felt his blood boil.

"You are the Heir of a murderer…" Ron whispered coldly, while Malfoy shrunk a little.

"My father-"

"Is a Death-Eater," Ron interrupted. "You feel proud of that, Malfoy? You feel proud of the fact that your father has probably murdered scores of people?"

"Don't say a word against my father," Malfoy stood up straighter.

"Could you do it?" Ron asked, and Malfoy blinked at him. "Could you kill someone?"

"You're sick in the head, Weasley…" Malfoy swallowed thickly.

"You will never live up to him," Ron sneered. "Until you start killing those who are different from you, you will never be the son that he wanted." And if you do follow in his footsteps, I'll kill you as well."Is your father's approval worth your soul?"

"Stay away from me…" Malfoy muttered, and then he went to leave. Ron quickly grabbed his arm and yanked him back, his face inches from Malfoy's.

"We both know that eventually, the Dark Lord will return," Ron whispered, his eyes digging into Malfoy's. "After all, you and I have faced him before… Tell me, once he has returned, are you going to murder your schoolmates? Hermione Granger? Colin Creevey? Beth Wiltshire? Justin Finch-Fletchley? Are you going to hunt them down with your father?"

"What the fuck is the matter with you?" Malfoy blinked repeatedly. "Let go of my arm… You're hurting me…" I'm hurting him? Wait… Look at his face, he's almost crying. Ron just stared at Malfoy for a few seconds, and then he weakened his grip.

"You're no killer…" Ron said almost gently, his expression softening. "I just don't see it in you."

"My father is not a murderer…" Malfoy denied weakly, but he knew the truth. Deep down, Draco had always known what his father was. I need to reach out to him, and not just because I promised Snape. I don't want to see him die before he even turns seventeen.

"Don't leave the group," Ron whispered. "Don't run away because things are getting difficult."

"Why? None of you even want me there," Malfoy sniffled, why was he tearing up again?!

"I want you there," Ron admitted, though the words burned his throat.

"Why…?" I've seen the good that you can do.

"I… I enjoy our banter," Ron replied lamely. "When our beliefs aren't being brought up, I enjoy talking to you… Debating with you. Hell, I even find your humor refreshing." Ron then let go of Malfoy's arm. "We don't have to be our parents, Malfoy… We can be whoever we want to be."

"That's easy for you to say…" Malfoy straightened his robes, and then he cleared his eyes. "You don't know what it's like to doubt yourself… To doubt everything…"

"I've been doubting myself since the day I was sorted into Slytherin," Ron said. "When I first started Hogwarts, I utterly despised Blood-Supremacy and anyone associated with it."

"And yet, you remained friends with Theodore Nott," Malfoy remarked in a tired voice.

"I did, and I also began to doubt my 'black and white' outlook on things," Ron told him. "And no, I will never defend Blood-Supremacy… But I do understand where it comes from now. It was terrifying when my World view began to change, but I didn't run away. You also have that strength, Malfoy. You don't have to be Lucius Malfoy… You can be you, for better or worse."

"You sound just like my Godfather," Malfoy sighed out, and then he began to leave. Ron rubbed his sore jaw, and then he followed after Malfoy.

"Are you going to leave?" Ron asked, and Malfoy exhaled loudly. "I don't want you to leave."

"I'm never going to be your friend, Weasley," Malfoy all but whispered.

"Who knows what the Future holds," Ron responded, he was just glad that he had talked Malfoy out of leaving.

---

Sirius Black's POV

Tuesday 17th November, 1993 (Grimmauld Place – After Dinner)

"You were overpowered by a thirteen year old?" Moody snarled, while the others processed Sturgis and Emmeline's words. Sirius, on the other hand, could think of little else besides his Godson's actions. What had Harry been thinking? Why was he so determined to prove Ron false? Why can't there be a training manual for teenagers with severe childhood trauma?

"I'm sorry," Arthur said, his eyes fixed on Sturgis and Emmeline, both of whom were sitting together. "Especially to you, Sturgis… Ron is a very troubled young man. When I see him next, I'll make him apologize to you in person." Sirius broke out of his thoughts at that, and just in time to see Pandora frown while Molly adorned a defeated look.

"He didn't know who they were," Pandora spoke up, and then she looked to Sturgis. "I'm sorry that he hurt you, but in his defense, strangers had broken into his Family's house. Not to mention that we were all missing."

"He threatened to kill Sturgis in front of me," Emmeline said, while Sturgis just sat there. "Sturgis, say something."

"Forgive me, Miss. Vance, but this Pain Relief Potion is making my head spin," Sturgis finally spoke up. "Also, I'm still processing Ronald Weasley's unnatural strength… I feel like I was kicked by a Hippogriff. Twice."

"Most likely a Spell," Moody paced, and then he stopped behind Mundungus. "And where were you in all of this?"

"I was waitin' by the floo, as ordered by Mrs. Tonks," Mundungus said defensively. "Good thin' too, I reckon… I'd hate to run into that little blighter meself." Mundungus then looked to Arthur and Molly. "No offence, of course."

"Don't call my son a blighter," Molly puffed up.

"You said that he was troubled?" Nymphadora asked Arthur, she had arrived just in time to see her mother depart. Sirius looked to Arthur at that, while Arthur looked to his wife. "Oh… You don't have to tell me if it's private. I was just curious…"

"Nonsense," Moody said, his Magical Eye focused on the Weasleys. "What's wrong with him? Is he deranged in the head?"

"The only person who's deranged in the head is you," Sirius glared at the former Auror.

"Sirius… Don't talk to him like that," Nymphadora whispered. You're his protégé, not me. I can speak to him however I want.

"Are we about to fight again?" Xeno asked, and everyone looked to him. "I'll make us some tea. Pandora, can I get you anything in particular?"

"Tea is fine, love," Pandora smiled at her husband.

"I'll take a glass of Odgen's," Mundungus said, and Moody shot him a murderous look. "I'll have tea…" Xeno looked between the two men, and then he simply left for the Kitchen. Yeah, Moody seems to despise Mundungus.

"You'll have nothing," Moody told Mundungus. "You, Tonks, and I are heading to Knockturn Alley. Tonks has found us a lead."

"There are rumors that an Ancient Vampire has arrived in England," Tonks told everyone. "The Auror's Office is also looking into him, but he's an elusive bugger. He always manages to slip his tails, but I reckon Moody's eye will change that." Unless he Apparates.

"Do we have a reason to be suspicious of this Vampire?" Pandora asked.

"According to the Ministry's sources, he was seen speaking with Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy," Tonks replied, and everyone perked up. "This was just days before poor Elphias was murdered."

"You-Know-Who's recruiting Dark Creatures again," Emmeline shook her head. "Do you need my wand? I don't feel right just sitting here."

"Go home for the night," Moody ordered. "Dedalus is heading for Albania tomorrow, and since you're his partner, you'll be going with him."

"Albania?" Sturgis came back to reality. "Is that wise? If someone is targeting Order members, then we should all remain in England, right?"

"Mr. Diggle is part of the Gaia Project," Tonks replied. "He'll be surrounded by Ministry Officials."

"I see," Sturgis said, his eyes were becoming droopy.

"Sturgis… Mate… Why don't I help you to your room?" Sirius asked. "You've had a long day, and you need to rest up."

"Don't worry about me, Lord Black," Sturgis slowly stood up, and Emmeline quickly moved to help him. "My room isn't too far."

"I'll help you there before I floo away," Emmeline volunteered.

"Thank you," Sturgis smiled a little, and then they both left the Living Room.

"We should also head out," Tonks stood up, and Moody gave her a curt nod.

"Be careful, cousin," Sirius said.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Sirius," Tonks smiled, and then she looked to Molly and Arthur. "Sorry about asking such a private question before… I really didn't mean to overstep."

"It's alright, Tonks," Arthur smiled a little. "Please take care." Tonks gave them a nod, and then she flooed away to The Leaky Cauldron. Moody followed after her, while Mundungus dragged his feet before he too flooed away. This left Sirius with the Weasleys and Lovegoods, all of whom he felt the need to apologize to. I'll wait for Xeno to return.

Molly and Arthur began talking to each other about their days, while Pandora rested with her hands on her protruding belly. Eventually, Emmeline walked back into the Living Room. She bid them goodnight, and then flooed back to her home in Birmingham. After a few minutes, Xeno walked into the Living Room with multiple cups of tea floating behind him.

"Everyone left," Xeno blinked. "Do people not like my tea?" Sirius bit back a laugh, while the others felt no need hide their amusement.

"Your tea is marvelous, love," Pandora smiled in her usual aloof manner. "Come, sit down with me." Xeno seemingly forgot his troubles at his wife's call, and he quickly had his arm around her. Sirius's eyes watched the tea cups float onto the table, while his mind plucked up the courage to apologize on Harry's behalf. Just do it, Sirius. Harry is your responsibility.

"Arthur… Molly…" Sirius stood up, and both Weasleys looked to him. "I am sorry for what Harry did… Truly. I'll go to Hogwarts tomorrow and talk to him, and I'd like you to come along."

"Um… What's he on about?" Arthur asked, and Sirius realized that Arthur hadn't been told of Harry's actions yet. Molly was too busy explaining what happened to Sturgis.

"Harry looked through Ron's things when he was staying at the Burrow," Molly sighed out, and Arthur looked quite surprised.

"Harry? Are you sure?" Arthur asked.

"He learned of Ron's Brain-Damage," Pandora informed him, and his face fell. "He also told his friends. Ron was livid, but he came to us instead of taking action himself."

"Which shows maturity," Xeno quickly added.

"What Harry did was… shameful…" Sirius said, he didn't even know what to say. "I'll make him apologize to you both for abusing your hospitality…" When I couldn't even stop drinking, they stepped up to take care of him. And this is how he repays them…

"What made him do something like this?" Arthur couldn't help but ask.

"Ron mentioned that Harry feels neglected," Sirius sighed out. "He's never had any adult care for him, not until he reached Hogwarts… And now that he finally does, he feels like he's in second place because we all fret over Ron. Apparently, he even feels jealous of Ron's relationship with Dumbledore and the Professors." The adults exchanged sorry looks, they knew just how horrid Harry's life had been before Sirius.

"Ron told you this?" Arthur asked, and Sirius nodded.

"When?" Xeno asked.

"Around a month ago," Sirius replied. "He told me to start putting Harry first, and that I should never mention him near Harry again. He even advised me to buy Harry his Firebolt…"

"Why didn't you tell us this?" Molly asked immediately.

"Because it was a private conversation between Ron and me," Sirius replied. "I'm only telling you now because I need you to understand that Harry isn't a terrible kid… He did something terrible, and I'm not excusing that, but he's just… I don't know…" I don't want to call him 'troubled'. "Come with me tomorrow, and I'll make sure that Harry explains himself to you."

"I have work, but Molly will join you," Arthur gave Sirius a comforting smile. "Trust me, we know that children can be a handful, Sirius. Especially teenagers…"

---

Harry Potter's POV

Wednesday 18th November, 1993 (Transfiguration Classroom – Morning Classes)

He had ruined everything. Ron had somehow gotten into his room, stolen his trunk, and learned of his actions. Harry couldn't even bring himself to care about Ron's breaking and entering, after all, he had done the same thing not so long ago.

The worst part about all of this was the guilt that he felt over Neville being blamed for Harry's crimes. He felt bad for Hermione as well, but she had gone out of her way to involve herself in this. Neville, unlike his two best friends, was completely blameless. Though he blames himself for not doing enough. How could I do this to him?

And then there was the guilt that he felt for going after a sick person. Ron, for all of his faults, hadn't really done anything to warrant such an investigation. Harry understood that now. At the time, it had been so easy to aim his ill feelings on someone else. Ron had been the perfect scapegoat, mostly because he was the 'catalyst' of said feelings. But now that Harry understood why Ron was seen as a priority, he couldn't help but think of himself as a needy brat. Just like Dudley.

"Harry, you're not taking down notes," Hermione whispered, and Harry broke out of his thoughts. "Professor McGonagall's noticed it, and you know that she's angry-"

"Would you two prefer to give the lecture?" McGonagall suddenly glared at them, and Hermione let out a weak squeal. "Or are you done talking?" McGonagall had, of course, learned of why Harry and his friends lost Gryffindor sixty points yesterday, and she had not been pleased.

"Sorry, Professor," Hermione apologized immediately, while Harry ignored the sniggering students.

"I suggest that you two open your ears instead of your mouths," McGonagall said, and then she looked to the others. Everyone stopped sniggering immediately, and McGonagall went back to giving her lecture. Harry shot Hermione a quick look, and he noticed that her eyes were getting watery. Damn, I wish Neville was sitting next to her. He knows how to comfort her.

"I'm sorry that you got told of because-" Harry started.

"Shhh," Hermione shushed, and Harry bit his tongue. Why am I so bad at this? "Just take notes."

As soon as Harry inked his quill, there was a knock at the door. McGonagall pursed her lips, and then she opened the door with a flick of her wand. Filch quickly made his way up to her, and they began talking in hushed whispers. Flint then aimed his finger at Harry, much to the boy's surprise. I bet he did that on purpose so that everyone will know that I'm in trouble. Wait… Am I in trouble?

"Mr. Potter, go to the Headmaster's Office," McGonagall instructed. "The entrance has been left open for you." Dumbledore wants to see me? Is this about Ron?

"I'll take your things to Gryffindor Tower if you're not back in time," Hermione whispered, and the look on her face told him that she'd question him later. Harry shot Neville a quick look, and then he left for the Headmaster's Office. As Harry made his way up, he noticed that Filch was following after him. I'm not going to run away… Where would I even go? Harry shot a subtle look back, and he saw that Filch had a cruel smirk planted on his face.

Filch followed Harry all the way up to the Stone Gargoyle, and only when Harry began to climb up the spiral steps did Filch back off. Harry stopped at the entrance in order to compose himself, and then he knocked on the door.

"Come in, Harry," came Dumbledore's voice, and Harry slowly made his way inside. As soon as he saw the Weasley matriarch, Harry froze in his spot. "Come and take a seat, please." Harry closed the door, and then he walked up to the clawed table. Sirius and Mrs. Weasley were clearly here because Dumbledore had told them everything. As Harry sat down, he shot a guilty look towards his Godfather. I can't read his expression, but he looks really disappointed.

"Before we start, I have to ask for myself," Sirius said, his eyes fixed on Harry. "Is it true? Did you really break into Ron's things?" Harry could only nod once, and when Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose, Harry wanted the Earth to swallow him.

"Harry, and the others, have promised Professor McGonagall, and myself, that they will never reveal Ronald's condition," Dumbledore said to Mrs. Weasley, who nodded slowly. Harry shrunk into his seat a little, what was he supposed to say to her?

"Harry, apologize to Molly right now," Sirius said, and Harry had never heard him sound so stern before.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley," Harry managed.

"Do it properly," Sirius said, his voice less stern this time.

"Sirius, it's alright," Mrs. Weasley spoke up, she was starting to look quite uncomfortable. "I accept his apology."

"Are you sure?" Sirius asked, and she gave him a quick nod. Her forgiving nature made Harry feel twice as worse, and he decided to just be scolded in silence. "Harry, you understand that you can't tell anyone, don't you?"

"I understand," Harry replied. "I won't tell anyone, I-" A sudden knock at the door stopped him, and Harry was smart enough to realize who was at the door.

"Come in, Ronald," Dumbledore said, and sixth Weasley son entered the Office.

"Sorry for tracking shite into your Office, Headmaster," Ron said as he made his way in, but when he realized that they weren't alone, he stopped immediately. Shite? He swore in front of the Headmaster…

"Ronald Weasley… Is that any way to speak to the Headmaster?" Mrs. Weasley gaped at her son, she was too shocked to be upset. Ron just stared at his mother with a slightly jarred look, he was clearly trying to think of an excuse.

"I… Yeah, I can't think of anything," Ron shrugged, and then he walked further into the Office. Harry sat up a little, but Ron was clearly ignoring his presence. He was in Herbology, judging by gloves and dirty robes. "Can I help you with anything, Headmaster?"

"Take a seat, Ronald," Dumbledore gestured to the only free seat available, which was to Harry's right. Ron looked at the seat, and then he looked back to Dumbledore.

"I'm fine right here," Ron said, and Harry felt himself deflate a little. I wouldn't sit with me either if I were him.

"Very well," Dumbledore said, and then he looked to Harry. Harry slowly looked to Ron, and then he drew in a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Ron," Harry apologized. "I didn't know that you were… sick…"

"So it would've been fine if I wasn't?" Ron asked, he sounded completely uninterested.

"No… I didn't mean to imply that," Harry shot a quick look towards Sirius.

"Spare me," Ron said dismissively, and then he looked to Dumbledore. "May I be excused?"

"Ron, Harry is trying to apologize to you," Mrs. Weasley said, a slightly stern look on her face.

"Pup, we can resolve this today," Sirius added. "Before it gets any more serious."

"Harry, Hermione, and Neville have promised to keep your condition to themselves," Dumbledore said.

"We won't tell anyone, I promise," Harry spoke up. "We also want to do anything that we can to help you, if you'll have us. I think Hermione's already planning to learn more about Brain Injuries." Ron just stared at Harry, who began to feel slightly uncomfortable.

"Ron?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "Say something."

"I don't need their help," Ron told his mother, and Harry wasn't really surprised. I think he really is done with us. Damn… I need to tell him that Neville had nothing to do with this. His Gran is already dealing with so much, she doesn't need to feel ashamed of Neville because of my actions as well. "All I want is for them to leave me alone, nothing more."

"Are you sure?" Dumbledore asked.

"For now, yes," Ron replied, a familiar look passing between the two. Sirius and Mrs. Weasley didn't look too pleased with that, but neither of them said anything.

"You may return to your class then," Dumbledore said, he didn't want to prolong this uncomfortable exchange. Neither boys needed it, at least not right now. Ron gave Dumbledore a nod, and then he left the Office.

"Professor Dumbledore, might I be excused?" Harry asked as soon as Ron closed the door behind himself.

"Certainly, but don't go too far," Dumbledore replied. "Sirius still wishes to speak with you." He does? Harry felt a bit anxious, but he decided to face the music nonetheless. Harry quickly made his way out of the Office, and once he was past the Stone Gargoyle, he spotted Ron heading for the Moving Staircase.

"Ron, wait!" Harry called as he chased after the redhead, who turned around with a frown.

"What part of leave me alone don't you understand?" Ron asked.

"I do understand," Harry stopped in front of the taller boy. "And I will stay away from you, if that's what you want. But Neville… He isn't to blame for this. This was all my doing…"

"So Neville didn't know that you were looking into me? You expect me to believe that tripe?" Ron asked.

"He didn't," Harry replied. "I swear it… He didn't know what I was up to until it was too late. I mean, I told him of my dislike of you…" Why did I say that? "Wait… I don't actually dislike you, I just thought I did. Look… Please don't blame Neville for my actions. This whole 'Family Eternal Friend' business is important to him, and he's been making sure to honor it. When he learned of what I was up to, he tried to stop me."

"He tried to stop you, did he?" Ron cocked an eyebrow. "Go on."

"I had already figured it out…" Harry told him. "I bought that book in Hogsmeade, and I learned about your…" he trailed off. I don't want to say it. It still feels surreal. Ron seemed to dislike Harry's reluctance in mentioning Brain Injuries.

"Tell me, do you even understand how wrong your actions were?" Ron asked, and Harry blinked at him. "No… I don't think you do. You crossed a fucking line, Harry, and this time, I'm not going to forgive you."

"I do understand."

"No, you don't," Ron said coldly. "I think you just feel sorry for me, and since you can't justify your misguided dislike of me to yourself anymore, you feel 'guilty'. Well… I don't care about how bad you feel. I just don't. Last year it was you three accusing me of being the Heir, and now this. It's a damn pattern with you three."

"Neville didn't do anything this time," Harry urged, he really didn't want Neville to pay for his mistake.

"Why just Neville?" Ron asked. "What about Hermione? Why aren't you claiming her innocence as well?"

"Hermione… What happened with her was different…" Harry replied slowly, and Ron waited for him to go on. "She knew of what I had done, and even though she reprimanded me, she still Cursed me in order to find out about your condition."

"What?"

"Um… When I found out, I planned to get rid of the book," Harry explained. "I was never going to mention anything to anyone… But then Hermione and Neville came into the room, and she saw the book… Her curiosity got the better of her, and she tried to read it. When I took it away from her, she cast the Full Body-Bind Curse on me."

"Are you serious?" Ron asked, he was a little surprised by that.

"Neville only found out because she told him what the book said," Harry replied. "He made us promise that we wouldn't tell your siblings, and that until you came forward, we'd never bring it up. Hermione decided to go through the book, just in case it had important information on how to help you… I swear, we never planned to say anything about it. Not until you told us yourself." Once Harry had finished, Ron just stared at him for a few moments. And then, he turned around and left for Herbology.

Harry wanted to say more, but it was obvious that Ron was done listening. Since there was nothing more that he could do, he began to head back to Dumbledore's Office. I just hope that Ron believes me about Neville. As for me and Hermione, we'll have to figure something out ourselves. As Harry neared the Office, he spotted Sirius waiting by the Stone Gargoyle. Harry's gut tensed, but he kept walking forward.

"Well?" Sirius asked. "Did he accept your words?"

"I'm not sure… I told him the whole truth, and explained that Neville had nothing to do with this," Harry sighed, and then he shifted in his spot.

"Harry, how could you do this?" Sirius asked, and Harry just stared down at his feet. "First this Heir business, and now this? Not to mention that you abused Arthur and Molly's kindness… They fed and housed you when I was too busy wallowing in grief."

"I know… I just… I didn't think of the consequences at the time," Harry spoke to the ground.

"No, you didn't," Sirius sighed, he wasn't even sure if had the right to scold James' son. "Harry… I just need you to understand that you crossed a line, and not just with Ron. His Family has been extremely kind to you, much like your dad's was to me. And if I'm being perfectly honest, both your mum and dad wouldn't be proud of you right now." Harry swallowed thickly at that, he now felt worse than ever.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He had nothing to say, nor did he feel right making excuses. The only thing that he could do now was to learn his lesson, and to never let jealousy cloud his judgement again.

"Does Remus know of what you did?" Sirius asked, and Harry shook his head. "You will tell him, and once you're done, you will ask him for detention. Tell him that it was my idea, and that you are to serve a month's worth of detention." A month?!

"What?" Harry blinked.

"I would ground you, but you're staying at Hogwarts," Sirius said, he didn't enjoy being a stern father figure. "So… Remus will ground you for me. He's as much your guardian as I am, and he's in a position to… punish you…" Sirius then rubbed his forehead, while Harry felt like a spanked toddler. "Go on, Harry… Go back to your class…"

Harry nodded weakly, and then he left with his head hanging low. I swear to God, I will never look into other people's lives again… Nothing good can come out of it.

---

Lord Voldemort's POV

Wednesday 18th November, 1993 (Moscow (Minister's Home) – Lunchbreak)

Word of Elphias Doge's death had reached Russia, and although the Russian people weren't even fazed by it, the Dark Lord was certainly pleased. Doge was Dumbledore's oldest friend, which only made this sweeter for the Dark Lord. The old man was no doubt grieving right now, and his accursed Order was likely doing the same. As for who had killed Doge, the Dark Lord already knew the answer to that. It had taken Gaspard less than a week to do what the Death-Eaters couldn't accomplish for years. I was wise to recruit him.

"Master, it is done," came Samara's voice, and then she entered the Living Room. More good news. "Russia will no longer aid the Gaia Project, which will slow it down considerably."

"Was there much resistance?" Lord Voldemort asked.

"Only two young men," Samara replied. "The older Officials understand that this Project is taxing our country considerably. We will tell Europe that we must put our own citizenry first, which will only serve to make Russian wizards happier."

"Well done, Samara," the Dark Lord smiled, and she quickly bowed her head. Unsurprisingly, Samara had sent little Alexie away to live with his tutor. Which works for me. I can't have her distracted by that little simpleton. "Have our old allies answered your call?"

"They have," Samara replied. "But this will take time, my Lord. The Russian Ministry has grown quite… tolerant… over the last few years. I have found a direct correlation between age, and sympathy for the Mud-Bloods. The younger Officials, who are rising in the ranks, are quite outspoken against 'bigotry'."

"That is… disturbing… to hear," the Dark Lord hissed. "You have surrounded yourself with weakness."

"I will change that, my Lord," Samara promised.

"For Alexie's sake, I hope you do," the Dark Lord whispered coldly. "Do you remember my promise?"

"I do, my Lord."

"Say it," Lord Voldemort slowly levitated out of the chair.

"You will cut off my eyelids, and then you'll make me watch as you skin my son alive," Samara said, her voice controlled due to her prowess in Occlumency.

"You have two years, Samara," the Dark Lord floated into the middle of the room. "In two years, I will return to Russia. Cut out your weaknesses, and bring Russia into my grasp." With that, the Dark Lord began to morph into shadow and mist. "Two years… Do not fail Lord Voldemort."

He reappeared on the outskirts of Moscow, he wished to see the city one last time before he left. In two years, Russia will serve as my main supply of trained soldiers. His plan was quite simple, but it would take time to come to fruition. Far too many people needed to be removed from places of power, or at least be put under the Imperius Curse. It was times like these in which the Dark Lord found himself missing Mulciber Jnr's services.

The Dark Lord took to the skies after his eyes had had their fill, while his body vanished from sight. It was time to return to England. So much needed to be done, and the Dark Lord could not rely on Lucius and Cornelius alone. He needed to find all of his former 'friends', and then bend them to his will. But not before removing Severus… He has no doubt convinced the others of his 'loyalty', and just like Lucius, they most likely believe him. I cannot let that traitor report my movements to Dumbledore. After all, I'm certain that he has counseled Dumbledore about my ways. He will pay with his life.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Wednesday 18th November, 1993 (The Dungeons – After Classes)

If what Harry had said was true, then Neville's only crime was ignorance, which in Ron's books, was hardly Neville's fault. However, Ron found himself doubting Harry's story. What if this was some ploy to keep at least one member of the Trio involved with him? No, that's just absurd. I know for a fact that the Trio don't think like that. They, like most Gryffindors, are forthright and direct. I shouldn't act on my feelings, but rather on my logic. Neville, and his Grandmother, are valuable allies. So… I'll speak with him soon. I'll get the truth.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall greeted him by Snape's door.

"Professor McGonagall," Ron greeted politely. "What brings you down here?"

"You do, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall replied, and Ron blinked at her. What did I do? "Albus tells me that you need to visit the Ministry today, I will be your escort."

"My escort?" Ron asked. "The Headmaster usually allows me to go about as I please."

"Times are becoming dangerous, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said. "Come, let's be on our way." Yeah… She won't give me a choice. Damnit. Ron and McGonagall entered Snape's Office, which was empty due to Snape being at the Potions Club.

"While we're out, do you mind if we stop by Gringotts as well?" Ron asked. "I have some important business to take care of there."

"We will floo there from the Ministry," McGonagall agreed, much to Ron's relief. Good, I can ask Gornuk to look into this Marietta Angel. Cuffe is a shady bastard, and I really don't trust his story. McGonagall prepared the floo to the Ministry, and once she was done, she gestured Ron to go through. Should I make a snarky comment? No… She'll give me the back of her hand. Ron stepped through the fire, which led him into the Ministry's Atrium. He quickly cleared the way for McGonagall, who stepped into the Ministry with a stern look.

"Have you made an appointment with Madam Bones?" McGonagall asked.

"The Headmaster told you who I'm visiting?" Ron asked, and she gave him a nod. Don't show your annoyance with that, Ron. "No, I have not made an appointment. I only learned yesterday that I needed to see her."

"I see," McGonagall said, and she didn't question him further. They made their way towards the elevators, and once they were inside, Ron clicked on the required button. The elevator jerked to life, as usual, and then it rushed down towards the second floor.

"We should get these in Hogwarts," Ron said to McGonagall. She's not very talkative. I wish Snape had come instead. Wait… Am I seriously wishing for Snape's company? Merlin… I've lost my marbles.

"Do you not enjoy using the Moving Staircase?" McGonagall asked.

"No one enjoys using the Moving Staircase," Ron pointed out. "Especially us Slytherins, who have to creep out of the Dungeons every day."

"A little exercise has never killed anyone," McGonagall said dryly, and Ron couldn't think of anything to say to that. The lift came to an abrupt stop, and the floor was announced. Ron and McGonagall stepped out of the elevator, and then made their way towards the Auror Offices. The journey was made in silence, which was broken the moment they entered the Offices. Immediately, they were surrounded by loud chatter and the sound of papers being filed away.

"You certainly picked a busy day, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said, while Ron looked around himself. Is that Tonks? It is. Oh, and there's Madam Roberts!

"Professor McGonagall?" came a booming voice, and both Ron and McGonagall looked to see Kingsley Shacklebolt looking at them. "And Ronald Weasley…" Shacklebolt then walked up to them. "Might I inquire about your visit?"

"Ronald wishes to speak to Madam Bones about their partnership," McGonagall replied.

"Is she expecting you?" Shacklebolt asked Ron.

"No, but this is an emergency," Ron smiled at the man. "She and I have a deal in place, and something very important has come up."

"She is an extremely busy woman," Shacklebolt said. "And she doesn't see people unless they make an appointment. I can direct you to her secretary, if you want." Alright, fuck being subtle.

"Alright, but after that, you can tell her that you're the reason why five thousand and five hundred Galleons didn't make it to the restoration of St. Mungo's," Ron said, and Shacklebolt blinked at him. Even McGonagall's ears perked up at the sound of so much money. "Well? Where is this secretary?" Shacklebolt frowned at him, and then he gestured towards a few spare seats.

"Go and wait over there, while I inform Madam Bones of your presence," Shacklebolt said, and then he left for the large Office in the back. Ron and McGonagall took their seats, and Ron smiled to himself. That was quite easy, but then again, I am bringing a lot of money to the table. And since the Ministry is struggling, everyone is smart enough to understand the need for this project to work.

"There were more tactful ways of getting your way, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall stated. "Kingsley is a reasonable man, he would have understood your need for urgency."

"Maybe, but why take the risk?" Ron asked. "I dealt with him in a way that I'm familiar with. Plus, I really don't have time to waste. This deal that I'm putting together requires efficiency instead of soft words." McGonagall stared at him for a few seconds, and then she looked towards the back Office.

"You act very differently in class," she said suddenly.

"Well, to be fair, the only time that we talk is when I'm answering your questions," Ron shrugged.

"I suppose that is true," McGonagall said.

"Professor McGonagall?" came Tonks' voice, and Ron noticed the white haired witch nearly smash into another Auror. "Oops… Sorry, Gawain."

"Watch where you're going, Tonks," the Auror named Gawain frowned, while Tonks apologized again. As Gawain returned to his work, Tonks approached Ron and McGonagall.

"What brings you two here?" Tonks asked, her eyes lingering on Ron. After yesterday's events, she wasn't sure how she felt about Ron. Her mother was certain that Ron had felt no remorse for hurting Sturgis, not to mention what his own father had said about him.

"I'm here to see Madam Bones about something," Ron replied with a smile, he rather liked Sirius' cousin.

"Oh, is it something to do with your brochures?" Tonks asked, and Ron gave her a nod. "I'll be attending too, of course, but just as the security."

"Sirius is not taking you?" Ron asked.

"He hasn't even thought to ask my Family," Tonks rolled her eyes. "I mean, I would still have to attend as security, but my mother would've liked to attend. I told her to just ask him, but she doesn't want to impose on him." I saw her aiding Malfoy in his vision, alongside Narcissa Malfoy. They're sisters, right? Maybe Draco should meet his unbigoted Aunt? An idea formed in Ron's head, and he stored it away for later.

"Mr. Weasley, she'll see you now," came Shacklebolt's voice, and Ron stood up to leave.

"He might come around," Ron smiled at Tonks, and then he left the two witches to talk. As Ron neared Madam Bones' Office, he spotted Rufus Scrimgeour's yellow eyes in an adjacent Office. The Head Auror had a file open in front of him, but his eyes were fixed on Ron. He looks actually creepy. Ron turned his back on the man, and then he knocked on Madam Bones' door.

"Enter," she called, and Ron stepped into the Office. Ron was left slightly jarred at how packed it was, there were files and stacks of parchment everywhere. "Please, take a seat."

"Good Afternoon, Madam Bones," Ron fixed his expression, and then he took a seat in front of her.

"Kingsley tells me that you plan to donate 'five thousand and five hundred Galleons' to the cause," Madam Bones started. He misunderstood me, but then again, I didn't really tell him much. "I'm sorry to inform you that you can't. We have set a limit on each Family out of courtesy, and if you break that courtesy, then the other Old Families won't be too pleased. They'll feel pressured to give more, which will result in them getting offended."

"The Weasley Family will be paying five hundred Galleons," Ron assured her, and then he pulled out Madame Maxime's letter. "Here, please read this." Madam Bones took the letter with a curious look, and then she began reading it.

"Madame Olympe Maxime…" Madam Bones whispered to herself as she finished, and then she looked to Ron. "You went to her?"

"I did," Ron replied. "We both felt the same way about this charity event, and I asked her if she knew any likeminded people. This is the result of my idea. Eleven Old Families from France who all want to pay five hundred Galleons. Oh, and Madame Maxime will also donate five hundred. So the total is six thousand Galleons."

"You came up with this?" Madam Bones asked, and Ron nodded.

"We're partners in this, right?" Ron asked. "I'm just trying to help."

"I won't lie, this is impressive work," Madam Bones admitted. "How a thirteen year old pulled it together on such short notice is beyond belief, but that doesn't matter." Madam Bones looked back to the letter. "The Travers Family…"

"What about them?" Ron asked.

"You don't know their history?" Madam Bones asked, and Ron slowly shook his head. "You should do your research, Ronald. The Travers Family was forced out of England by the other Old Families not too long ago. You see, the Heir of the Travers Family sided with the Dark Lord." What? Why would Madame Maxime reach out to them then? "The rest of the Family rebelled and aided the Ministry, which fractured the Family as a whole. The Heir, Augustus Travers, held the Family Wealth due to the Birthright Laws of the Goblins of Gringotts. In a way, the Travers Family aided both sides of the war. So once it was all done and wrapped up, neither side wanted them around, so they relocated to France."

"Wait… They helped you, and you didn't stand up for them?" Ron asked. "It was just Augustus Travers who was the Death-Eater, right?"

"Hatred is a terrible force," Madam Bones replied. "They have been trying to return to England ever since, and now you've hung that thread of hope in front of them. This is their ticket back here." Hence why they're willing to pay a measly sum of five hundred Galleons… Does Madame Maxime know of their ploy? She would, right? "Personally, I don't hold any ill will against the Travers Family, but the other guests won't be too pleased."

"This event isn't about them, it's about St. Mungo's being restored," Ron cleared his head, he had to stay on task.

"The Old British Families are the reason why we even have a Ministry, Ronald," Madam Bones said. "This entire floor was funded by Tobias Malfoy when the Ministry was still being established. Displeasing the Old Families is never a wise decision."

"I get it," Ron said, Theo and Blaise had taught him quite a lot. "The Old Families pretty much built Wizarding Britain, and as such, they hold a lot of power and influence… But right now, people are suffering in the streets. The Ministry is failing this country, and soon enough, ordinary people are going to start realizing that. St. Mungo's is just the first step towards healing this country, and you can't fix anything without money. This 'alliance' will bring in a lot of money."

"Our donations are estimated to net us over fifteen thousand Galleons," Madam Bones countered. "St. Mungo's will be restored easily enough with that much."

"And what about your empty coffers?" Ron asked. "Why not stash away the extra money for the next project? I mean, the Gaia Project is still ongoing, right? And Minister Fudge is apparently spending more than any other Minister in Europe… He loves the good publicity. But what he doesn't seem to understand is that this country is getting taxed due to his 'generosity'. This extra money can help ease your burdens. Plus, it helps promote unity between our countries. I know for certain that our Ministry would like to improve relations with the French Ministry."

Madam Bones looked back to the letter, she could see the sense in his words. There were so many benefits coming from this deal, not to mention that Russia had pulled out of the Gaia Project this morning, which meant that all of Europe would be under even more pressure than before. While Madam Bones considered his proposal, Ron thought of anything else to add.

"The Ministry needs to serve its people, Madam Bones," Ron broke the silence. "All of its people, not just a select few. I know that the other Old Families give so much to the Community, but right now, you need extra help. You need my help." Madam Bones looked between him and the letter, her lips pursing in thought. "I might be thirteen, but my friends and allies are not. Don't underestimate my contributions because of my age."

"I will speak to the Minister, and convince him of this plan," Madam Bones conceded, after all, the original plan was to start bringing money into the Ministry's vaults. "You've done the British Ministry quite the service, Ronald." I know, and I expect repayment.

"I'm happy to help," Ron said, he was glad that she was so easily convinced. Beggars can't be choosers, eh? "Though this isn't exactly free help…"

"It isn't?" Madam Bones asked.

"No," Ron took on a more serious tone. "This deal was not easy to put together, for me or for Madame Maxime. Both of us would like some sort of acknowledgement at the Gala, just something that tells everyone present of our efforts."

"You want good press?" Madam Bones asked. "Don't you own a magazine?"

"I can't just sing my own praises now, can I?" Ron chuckled. "I want you, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, to sing my praises."

"You are a peculiar young man," Madam Bones said. "Very well, I will give you what you want. Anything else?"

"I want to act as the Ministry's Official Delegate to the French," Ron added, and Madam Bones looked genuinely surprised.

"Pardon?" she blinked. "We don't hire thirteen years old to act as International Diplomats, Ronald."

"Is there a rule against it?" Ron asked. There isn't.

"Well… No, but it is quite the absurd demand," Madam Bones said, her square jaw clenching. "And I don't have the authority to give you what you want."

"The Minister does, and you have his ear," Ron countered. "Madame Maxime and I wish to act as a bridge between our two countries, and if either of us don't get what we want, we'll take our ball and go home."

"So it's blackmail then, is it?" Madam Bones frowned.

"I'm negotiating," Ron corrected her. "I can help you fill your coffers, but not for free. I want what I just asked for, and if you don't give it to me, I won't help you. Oh, and Madame Maxime is on board with this. She's probably negotiating with her own Minister right now." Madam Bones put the letter on her desk, her eyes scanning Ron's face.

"And please tell me why the Headmistress of Beauxbatons has such fondness for a student of Hogwarts?" Madam Bones asked. I brought her into the Order, I forgave her for nearly killing me, and she's felt the Entity's presence.

"I'm efficient, I work harder than most, I have decent principles, I can be very shrewd sometimes, and I honor my debts," Ron listed. "She and I are kindred spirits who both want what's best for our respective countries. Not to mention that I forgave her for her Veela ploy. She has plenty of reasons to be fond of me." Ron then straightened his back. "You can send the invitations, but until we get what we want, none of those Old Families will RSVP. Except for maybe the Travers, but five hundred Galleons isn't really worth it. Especially because it will anger the Old British Families."

"I'm being strong-armed by a teenager," Madam Bones cocked an eyebrow at him. "What's stopping me from just throwing this letter away?"

"Nothing," Ron shrugged. "But if you do throw it away, I'll tell every single person in this country of what I brought to the table. And then, I'll tell those who are suffering in the streets that Madam Amelia Bones cares more for her ego than doing what's best for the masses. I do own a magazine, you know."

"This offer… You made it in order to trap me," Madam Bones realized.

"I know that you'll put the many over your own pride," Ron smiled at her. "But just in case you don't, I made a copy of that letter." Ron then stood up, he had more work to get done today. "I didn't want to strong-arm you, but it's obvious that you underestimate me because of my age. Take this offer to the Minister, and get him to sign off on it. Time is of the essence, and if you don't give me what I want by Sunday night, I'll tell Madame Maxime that the British Ministry doesn't need help."

"And then you'll ruin my reputation," Madam Bones just stared at him. No, I need you to be the next Minister.

"If you take this to the Minister, and try your best to get me what I want, I won't say a word about you in my magazine," Ron said. "But I will crucify Cornelius Fudge for being a shortsighted fool, while Madame Maxime tells everyone in France the same. Image is quite important to the man, so I think he'll bite." No matter what you do, I'll benefit.

"You are bold, I'll give you that," Madam Bones' left eye twitched.

"I will be waiting for your response, and for the contract of my new job," Ron said, and then he turned around and left. Merlin, that was kind of scary… But it had to be done. Once Madame Maxime and I take up our new positions, we'll work to unite France and Britain against the Dark Lord. And when the time comes, we'll be ready.

---

Wednesday 18th November, 1993 (Gringotts Wizarding Bank – Nearly Evening)

"Barnabas Cuffe is lying," Gornuk said, his beady eyes gleaming. "A man as materialistic as him doesn't care a lick about this country's current state. He's trying to weasel into The Quibbler."

"I suspect the same thing, but I still want to make sure," Ron said, he really didn't like this tiny Office. "Please tell me that you know some shady bastard who will look into this Marietta Angel."

"Oh, I know plenty of people who would," Gornuk grinned, his tiny, sharp teeth on full display. "The real question is, how much are you willing to pay?"

"You're my Logistics Officer, you tell me," Ron said. I have no earthly idea how much I should pay. It's not like I've hired a spy before.

"I know this Elf, his name is Tiny," Gornuk said.

"An Elf spy?" Ron asked, that sounded quite cool actually. Sort of like Marty.

"Their Magic is very different from Wizard-Kind's," Gornuk stated. "They can get into places without anyone being the wiser, and this particular Elf is quite talented at it. And the best part is, he'll only ask for a pittance. Elves are a foolish lot when it comes to money, nor do they have the spines to demand more."

"How much?" Ron asked.

"Five Galleons ought to do," Gornuk laughed, much to Ron's surprise. "Trust me, Mr. Weasley, within a week, you'll know everything about this woman."

"Give him twenty, and tell him to stick to her for the next two weeks," Ron said. "I don't want him working any other jobs, understand? He'll stick to this woman constantly."

"I'll get in touch with him," Gornuk nodded. "When he's ready to report back, I'll send you an owl."

"Take the money from the company vault, I need to save my own money just in case," Ron stood up. "Thank you, Gornuk. You keep delivering without fail."

"As long as the money keeps flowing, I'm your man," Gornuk said, a greedy look in his eyes.

"Have a pleasant night," Ron said as he left the Office, now he only had one last errand to run. As Ron made his way back towards McGonagall, he quickly drank his second dose of medicine. It tasted horrible, as always, but Ron needed the energy. Especially because McGonagall is putting me to sleep. Not only does she not speak, but she's slowing me down with her presence.

"All done?" McGonagall asked as Ron approached her.

"Just one more errand to go," Ron replied, and she just stared at him. "Sorry for wasting your time, but this is why I usually travel alone."

"It's quite alright," McGonagall said. "Where to next?"

"I need to speak to Sirius Black," Ron replied. "The Headmaster has already told me of his address." I know that you know it too, after all, you're an Order member just like me.

"Did he now?" McGonagall suddenly sounded very interested.

"You know about the Fidelius Charm too then?" Ron feigned ignorance. "He told me because Sirius and I are very close… Why do you know about it?" Turn this on her, Ron. Don't let her question your knowledge. McGonagall just stared at him, so he decided to stare back. C'mon, give me a good lie.

"I am to take any messages from Mr. Potter to Sirius," McGonagall said. Wow… That was lame. This is fun.

"But why is the Headmaster the Secret Keeper?" Ron asked. "Also, can't he just tell Harry?"

"Enough questions, let's just be on our way," McGonagall said, and then she left for the exit. Haha, she can't talk about the Order to me. Ron followed her outside, an amused smile on his face. Once they were outside, McGonagall offered him her arm. "We will Apparate there, so hold on."

Ron took her arm, and he suddenly felt the World shift around him. His body was squeezed through a thin pipe, and before he knew it, he was standing in front of Twelve Grimmauld Place. Ugh… That was nasty. Ron shook his head clear, he was almost used to this.

"Just breathe, it will pass," McGonagall said, and Ron decided to not tell her that he had Apparated before. While Ron 'regained his composure', McGonagall walked up and knocked on the door.

"Let's hope that he's home," Ron stopped behind her, and then he heard someone on the other side of the door. Whoever was on the other side of the door clearly saw Ron and McGonagall through the eyehole, but they didn't open the door.

"Password?" came Sturgis' voice.

"Flaming feather," McGonagall replied, and Sturgis unlocked the door. Secret passwords? I like it.

"Come in, Professor McGonagall," Sturgis smiled at his old Transfiguration Professor, and then he looked to Ron. On your feet already? Healing Magic is a wonder.

"Hello," Ron greeted, and Sturgis gave him a nod before stepping aside. Ron and McGonagall made their way inside, and Sturgis quickly closed and locked the door.

"Lord Black and the others are in the Living Room," Sturgis said, his wand tracing the door's sides. "Please, make your way inside while I seal off the door." Ron followed after McGonagall, and an idea popped into his head. Hehe.

"What are all these security measures for, Professor?" Ron asked. "Is something wrong?"

"They are just precautions against the rising crime rate," McGonagall lied, and Ron nodded dumbly. I shouldn't put her on the spot, but it's just too much fun. They entered the Living Room, and Ron's eyes immediately darted towards the shady man in the far corner. Who is that? He was here yesterday too.

"Kid? Minerva?" Sirius looked to them, while Molly and the Lovegoods stopped mid-conversation to look at Ron.

"Ron? What are you doing here?" his mother asked.

"I'm here to talk to Sirius about something," Ron replied.

"Is it about Harry?" Sirius stood up. No.

"Yes," Ron lied, and Sirius shot a quick look to the others.

"We can talk in the Kitchen," Sirius said as he quickly walked past Ron and McGonagall.

"I'll be here when you wish to return," McGonagall said to Ron, and then she planted herself on an empty seat. Ron followed after Sirius, and once he entered the Kitchen, he closed the door behind himself.

"Well? Have you thought about Harry's apology?" Sirius asked. "Kid, he really is sorry."

"Yes, just like he was sorry last year," Ron rolled his eyes.

"He made a mistake," Sirius sighed out.

"A mistake?" Ron asked. "He went out of his way to find dirt on me… He had dozens of chances to stop, but he kept at it. That's not a mistake, it's a string of choices." Ron then drew in a deep breath. Don't get distracted. "Is he attending the Gala with you?"

"The Gala?" Sirius asked, where had that come from?

"Is he?"

"He is," Sirius replied slowly. "My entire Family was invited, and since I'm his Guardian, Harry got invited as well."

"Your entire Family?" Ron asked, pretending to be 'just curious'.

"All members of the Black Family," Sirius clarified. "But I'm the only Black left…"

"Oh… So you can't invite your cousin?" Ron asked. "I mean, she's still your Family, right? Shouldn't that qualify?"

"I… I didn't really think about that," Sirius admitted. "Technically, I could take Nymphadora with me…"

"You could take her parents too then," Ron said offhandedly. "Actually… That might cause some issues…"

"Issues?" Sirius asked.

"Well… The Gala will be filled with Pure-Bloods, and her husband is Muggle-Born," Ron explained, he knew Sirius well enough to know that he'd take Andromeda and Teddy just to piss off the other Pure-Bloods. "Not to mention Narcissa Malfoy… Andromeda is her sister, right?"

"She is," Sirius said to himself. "Andromeda was cast out of the Family for marrying Teddy… She hasn't spoken to Narcissa ever since."

"Yeah, ignore what I just said," Ron said. "Andromeda and Teddy being there would just stir the pot…" Sirius stared at Ron, and then his lips twitched upwards. Got him. "Anyway, back to my original reason for being here. I don't want Harry bothering me at the Gala, or any other Weasley. Please tell him to stay with Neville for the entire night."

"Ron… Are you serious?" Sirius lost his amusement.

"I am," Ron replied. "Sirius… This night is important to me, and I don't want to be distracted."

"Important?" Sirius asked.

"You'll see… Now, do I have your word?" Ron asked.

"I'll see what I can do," Sirius rubbed his forehead, he didn't want to make things worse.

"Alright, I'd best be off," Ron turned to leave.

"Already? You just got here," Sirius followed Ron back to the Living Room.

"I don't want to waste too much of Professor McGonagall's time," Ron replied, and then they entered the Living Room. "Professor McGonagall? I'm ready to leave." McGonagall gave Ron a nod, and then she handed Pandora a silver ring. Is that… a Protection Ring? I never wear mine now, not since Madam Roberts told me to lose it.

"These are superb, Pandora," McGonagall said, and then she stood up. "Let's be on our way then, Mr. Weasley."

"Wait… Ron just needs to do one thing," Molly said quickly, and then she looked to Sturgis. The straw-haired man blinked at her, and then they both looked to Ron. "Apologize to Mr. Podmore for yesterday, Ron. You really hurt him." Huh?

"Mrs. Weasley, there's no need for that," Sturgis said, but Molly just tutted him.

"Ron," Molly gave her son a meaningful look. I should apologize, but only because I need the Order to approve of me. In truth, he attacked me first.

"I'm sorry for attacking you," Ron apologized, and Molly nodded in approval. "By the way, how did you detect me?"

"The Human-Presence-Revealing Spell," Sturgis replied, and Ron nodded slowly. "The incantation is Homenum Revelio." It counters the Disillusionment Charm. That could be really useful to me.

"Homenum Revelio," Ron repeated, he was going to practice this Spell tomorrow. "What's the wand movement?"

"This sounds more like an interrogation than an apology," Sirius chuckled weakly, but Ron ignored him.

"Just point your wand, and say the magic words," Sturgis replied. "The Spell will make your eyes see any hidden humans." Neat.

"Thank you," Ron smiled at the man. "I'm sorry for hurting you, and for my threats against your life."

"You already apologized," Sturgis chuckled.

"I know, but this time, I mean it," Ron said, and everyone just blinked at him. "That was a joke." It wasn't. "Let's go, Professor. I've wasted enough of your time today." Ron made his way over to the fireplace, and he opened the floo to the Headmaster's Office.

"Oh, before I head off…" Ron looked to his mother. "Tell dad that I have the invitation to the Gala with me. I'll come down here and collect you both on the twenty-eighth. Please, wear your best." Ron then looked to the Lovegoods. "I'd invite you, but then you'd have to donate five hundred Galleons, which isn't smart because the baby is almost here."

"Oh," Pandora muttered, her right hand resting on her protruding belly. My Godchild will need that five hundred Galleons. Ron felt a little giddy at the prospect of finally meeting the little bugger.

"Why don't you send over the invitation to us?" Molly suggested. "Your father and I will keep it safe."

"That's not necessary," Ron assured her. "Plus, I'm donating the five hundred Galleons on behalf of the Weasley Family."

"You are?" Molly asked, when was that decided? "Ron, that's a lot of money. Your father and I decided that we'd donate what we could, and that's it." Um… Twenty Knuts isn't going to achieve a damn thing.

"The Weasley Family will pay five hundred Galleons, just like all the other Old Families," Ron said firmly. "Mum, do you really want to go there and only hand over a pittance? How will that make us look to the other Families?"

"The other Families?" Molly looked taken aback, and then she frowned. "Ronald Weasley, I've raised you to be proud of what we have."

"I bid you goodbye, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said. "Come through once you are done." And with that, McGonagall flooed away. For fuck's sake… Arguments at every turn.

"This has nothing to do with me 'not being proud'…" Ron sighed out, why couldn't people just listen to him? Instead, they start getting emotional. "It's about the Family Name, and our reputation. The World looks down on us, mum, and I'm not going to turn a blind eye to that. Old Families like the Longbottoms and Fawleys share our beliefs, but unlike us, they hold respect and influence within Britain, and even beyond. And why is that? It's because they use their wealth to benefit the country."

Molly looked to Pandora, then to Sirius, and then to Xeno, all of whom just stared at Ron.

"Sirius, how much are you donating?" Ron asked, why was his mother so thickheaded? Too much pride, and not enough sense.

"Five hundred…" Sirius said, his eyes darting towards Molly.

"And why are you donating that much?" Ron asked, his eyes fixed on his mother.

"It's the proper thing to do…" Sirius replied. "And it's expected…"

"See, mum," Ron jerked his head towards Sirius. "It's the proper thing to do, and it's expected. You're letting your 'pride in your Family' get in the way of changing things for the better." Ron then drew in a deep breath. "The Weasley Family will pay five hundred Galleons, and if you bring this up again, you and dad won't not be attending. Is that clear?"

"Clear?" Molly Weasley nearly shrieked. Poor choice of words, Ron. "You're giving me ultimatums now?!" I might burst a blood vessel… Ron just stared at his mother, harsh words on the tip of his tongue. Breathe… Don't give into your temper. Don't be a cunt.

"Mum… You're turning a good deed into a fight," Ron said almost gently. "Why do you always start with me? Why is it that, despite all the good I do, you always find the negative? Why must you always be a hindrance?" Molly blinked repeatedly. It's because you can't stand not being in charge, can you? "Enough is enough. I'm done with this dance, alright? You don't want to help? Fine… You don't have to help, but at least stop getting in the way." With that, Ron turned around and stepped through the floo.

---

Wednesday 18th November, 1993 (The Black Lake – Evening)

"Was it really wise to strong-arm Madam Bones like that?" Daphne asked, they were taking a walk along the shore.

"I had little choice," Ron shrugged. "She was starting to hang up on the fact that I'm just thirteen. I mean, I understand her reservations… But I really need this deal to work."

"So you can be an International Diplomat?" Daphne smirked. "My boyfriend, the International sensation." Ron chuckled at that, he loved that she was impressed with him. "Are you blushing?"

"No," Ron denied immediately, and then he snorted. "Stop it, Daph. This is serious business. And remember, you can't tell anyone. Not even the others." They know about the Old Families, but not much past that.

"I know," Daphne swung their hands back and forth. "You know, my father has this saying… What was it again? Oh, yeah! Influence breeds influence."

"Influence breeds influence, eh?" Ron repeated, he liked the sound of that.

"Think about it," Daphne hummed. "Once your new position is announced, everyone will be talking about you. They'll wonder how a thirteen year pulled this off."

"He met the right people," Ron stated.

"But they don't know that," Daphne gave him a wink. "To them, you must be something truly fascinating. They won't even think about the fact that you worked yourself to the bone to get this far, they'll only see your elevated status."

"And so they'll listen to me," Ron finished.

"Exactly," Daphne said. "It's not different at Hogwarts either. Every time someone accomplishes something, the whole school discusses it. But you know what they don't discuss?"

"How hard it must've been," Ron replied.

"The people who have worked as hard as you will know about your struggles, and they'll respect you for it," Daphne went on. "What I'm trying to say is that I'm proud of you."

"I… Thanks," Ron said a little bashfully, and then he cleared his throat. It's been a while since someone said that to me.

"By the way, I have that green strapless dress ready," Daphne told him. "It's the one that I bought at Hogsmeade. The one that you really liked for disgusting reasons."

"There is nothing disgusting about these!" Ron eyed her chest, and she rolled her eyes. "Don't listen to her, you two. She doesn't know anything."

"I know where to kick you if you keep at it," Daphne smirked at him, and Ron decided to relent. "So… Are you taking your entire Family?"

"Mum and dad are a given," Ron started. "Percy and Ginny are also okay in my opinion."

"And the twins?"

"Ugh…" Ron groaned. "I don't know about them. They're not made for this sort of stuff. First of all, they're troublemakers. Secondly, they are extremely attention hungry. And lastly, I know that they'll just embarrass the Family with their antics. This Gala, Daph… It's my chance at starting something special for my Family. The Weasley Name needs to be… cleaned up."

"Cleaned up?" Daphne asked.

"We're not exactly a prominent Family, despite how old we are," Ron sighed. "We're literally known for our poverty, and excessive children… I don't like that. I want us to be respected, like your Family is."

"My Family?" Daphne cocked an eyebrow. "Ron… We aren't respected by many."

"True, but when your father speaks, no one dares oppose him," Ron explained, and Daphne nodded slowly. "How many charities does your mother run?"

"Four, including a Creature Preservation Site," Daphne replied. "I get what you mean now. People might not like my Family, but they don't look down on us."

"Exactly," Ron smiled at her. "I've seen your father stare down Madame Maxime and the French Minister at the same time, Daph. No one in my Family could've done that. And sure, certain Families respect our values, and therefore, us by extension… But it's not enough. I want those who would oppose us to be wary of our prestige."

"You want respect and power for your Family," Daphne figured, and Ron nodded fervently. "I can understand that, I was raised to think the same way. We all were. 'The Family must always be furthered'."

"I know," Ron moved in front of her. "It's why I think about these things now. All of you have taught me to think like this."

"So we're to blame for this?" Daphne chuckled.

"The word 'Blame' implies that I'm wrong to think this way," Ron countered, and then he put his free hand on her waist. "Do you want to dance?"

"Out here?" Daphne asked.

"No one else is here, and the breeze is amazing," Ron replied, and she put her free hand on his shoulder.

"There will be dancing at this Gala, so I might as well teach you a little," Daphne smiled. "Just follow my lead, and don't step on my feet this time."

"Okay," Ron said, and then began swaying side to side.

"Should we expect a Weasley Minister eventually?" Daphne asked him, and Ron let out a laugh.

"No," Ron said with mirth. "Not for a while, at least." If Percy really does want to be Minister, then I should introduce him to Madam Bones. After all, if he learns under the next Minister, he'll be a shoe in for the job. Ron's smile turned coy, and Daphne clicked her tongue.

"Scheming, are you?" Daphne asked. "You shouldn't ignore your amazing girlfriend, Ron. Scheme in your own time."

"That's fair," Ron kissed her left cheek. "What about a Greengrass Minister?"

"Like that'll happen," Daphne giggled. "Plus, I don't want to work in an Office. I plan to work directly under my father once I graduate, and eventually, take over his businesses. Father can then retire and travel the World with mother, which has always been a dream of hers."

"And Tori?" Ron asked.

"I'll let her run some of the businesses, but I don't think she wants that," Daphne replied. "Her interests lie elsewhere." The twins' Joke Shop… If they're planning to open it eventually, they'll need investors. Another good plan, Ron. You're on fire today. "Earth to Ron."

"Sorry," Ron smiled sheepishly. "What if little Tori started her own business?"

"Go on," Daphne said.

"My brothers, the twins, plan to open up a shop like Zonko's eventually," Ron said, he knew that she wouldn't tell anyone. "What if we brought them together? I mean, Tori has more than enough in her savings to help the twins, and with their genius, all parties will benefit greatly. Plus, it might give Tori a push in the right direction."

"When did you become this conniving?" Daphne laughed. When I was eight… After all, I've been lying and hiding things since then.

"I've honed my craft, love," Ron sniggered, and then he twirled her before pulling her close again.

"And when do we implement this dastardly scheme?" Daphne asked.

"When the twins need money," Ron replied. "Trust me, I'll know when the time is right. While I bring in the twins, you can convince Tori to step up."

"I'll tell her that she'll make father proud," Daphne locked eyes with him. "She'll jump at the chance to be taken more seriously by him, especially due to his increasing annoyance with her antics."

"Look at us," Ron grinned from ear to ear. "Plotting and scheming together."

"Plotting and scheming are the same things," Daphne corrected. "But yes, I love it!"

"What else can we scheme about?" Ron mused.

"The Trio?" Daphne asked. "They do need to be dealt with, Ron. You can't let their actions go unpunished."

"I'm not," Ron assured her. "The adults are punishing them for me. Think about it… Harry has never had Family, and now his Godfather is extremely disappointed in him. How do you think that feels?"

"Like a hot knife," Daphne replied, she knew how horrible it was to disappoint a father figure. "Is that why you went to the adults?"

"Yes, and no," Ron shrugged. "I just don't feel the need to immerse myself in school drama. My attention needs to be on the bigger picture."

"On your growing influence, you mean," Daphne said, and Ron nodded gently.

"The 'Golden Trio' aren't even in my league, Daph," Ron said. "Why should I bother with them myself? It's pointless because they'll never learn if I scold them, they need to be set straight by their parent figures." But what about Neville? "Actually, there is something that we can discuss."

"More scheming?" Daphne smirked. "Yes, please."

"Neville…" Ron said, and Daphne waited for him to go on. "Harry told me that Neville had no clue about his activities. All Neville apparently knew was that Harry disliked me, and that's it."

"Seriously?" Daphne cocked an eyebrow. "Potter expects you to believe that?"

"I know, but he was so… persistent… about it," Ron said slowly. "It's just making me think, you know… Neville, and his Gran, are powerful allies to have. What if Harry is telling the truth, and I'm simply throwing away a great asset due to association?"

"That would be quite foolish," Daphne noted, she knew just how powerful Augusta Longbottom's word was. "Honestly, when I really think about it, Longbottom doesn't seem the type to pull off something like this. I know that last year he was horrible to you, but you told me that he apologized for his behavior. He's even stood up for the rest of us before, which I can't just ignore."

"So what do I do?" Ron asked for guidance.

"Talk to him," Daphne replied. "And do it before he owls his Grandmother, and ends up painting himself as guilty as Potter. Throw him a lifeline, and then get the truth from him. The full truth." Daphne's grip then tightened on his hand. "What about Granger?"

"What about her?" Ron asked, a sly smirk on his face.

"Don't tease me," she narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing about Granger? What did Potter say about her?"

"Harry planned to destroy the book," Ron started. "But Hermione saw it, and she let her curiosity get the best of her. She cast the Full Body-Bind Curse on him, and then she read the book. That's how Neville found out."

"Granger Cursed Potter?" Daphne asked, even she had a hard time believing that.

"People can do crazy things," Ron shrugged. "I'll listen to Neville's story, and if it lines up with Harry's, then she's just as guilty as the Boy-Who-Lived."

"What then?" Daphne asked.

"Then… nothing," Ron replied. "To me, she'll become nothing more than another face at Hogwarts. I'm done with people who keep getting in my way."

"She could tell people if you upset her," Daphne said.

"Which is why I'm so… disgusted… by this," Ron admitted. "They went out of their way to learn something so personal about me, and now they hold power over me. They probably won't use it, but it's still there."

"You'll overcome it," Daphne gave him a peck. "And what's the worst that can happen if they do use it? We'll turn the whole story into whatever we want, Ron. We'll tell the whole World that you are just a sick young man who's trying to get by, and the Trio will be vilified. 'You can turn your weaknesses into your armor, and then, they can never be used to hurt you'. Father taught me that when I was just a tiny little girl, and I've always remembered it."

"Is that where your Ice-Queen persona comes from?" Ron asked.

"It's my shield against those who would target me," Daphne replied. "Your scars and conditions immediately make you sympathetic, which isn't the same as being pitied. Plus, most people in this school like you. The first and seconds years worship you. The older students respect you. If the Trio do tell other people, and this information spreads, I'll make sure that everyone stands by you."

"You'll turn me into a tragic hero?" Ron asked, her words seemed to resonate with him.

"I'll create you impenetrable armor," Daphne smiled. "We're a team, aren't we?"

"Always, Daphne."

---

Wednesday 18th November, 1993 (The Courtyard – After Dinner)

Ron waited patiently for Derek to bring Neville over. His talk with Daphne had been… eye opening. Firstly, he still needed the Longbottoms, and if Neville was innocent as Harry claimed, then pinning the blame on him through association was quite unfair. After all, hadn't Ron been doubted due to association before?

Secondly, Neville was shareholder in The Quibbler, which meant that being on peaceful terms with him was just a necessity. If Ron cut off ties with the Longbottom Heir, then The Quibbler could potentially suffer unforeseen issues down the line. And lastly, Ron, and most his friends, actually liked Neville. Ron had always held some respect for Neville after he had confessed his jealousy and apologized for it, while Ron's friends had truly appreciated Neville standing up for them while Ron was incapacitated. If something could be salvaged from this mess, then it was Ron's duty to do so.

"Ron?" came Neville's voice, and Ron turned to face Neville and Derek.

"Thank you, Derek," Ron smiled at the chubby boy, who smiled back. "I'll see you in the common room."

"Alright, bye," Derek nodded, and then he quickly left to chase after his friends. Ron and Neville stared at each for a few moments, and Ron waited for the Gryffindor to start.

"I'm sorry about everything," Neville finally broke the silence, but Ron just stared at him. "Ron?"

"'I'm sorry about everything' ought to be your middle name," Ron said coldly, his ill feelings coming through for a moment. Breathe, and think properly. "Harry told me everything that happened, Neville."

"He did?" Neville blinked. "What… What did he say?" So Harry hasn't told him yet?

"I'll keep that to myself for now," Ron replied, and Neville shifted in his spot a little. "Tell me your side of things, and if your versions line up, we can talk. Oh, and if they don't, then you and I are also done. I'll send your Grandmother an owl right after as well." Neville swallowed thickly at that. "Start from the start, Neville."

"I… Um…" Neville muttered, he wasn't sure about what to say. He wanted to help his best friends, but at the same time, he didn't want to lie and make things worse. What had Harry told Ron? "I didn't know what Harry… what Harry, and Hermione, were up to. Not until a few days ago. I spoke to Hermione, and she promised to help me stop Harry… But then we found Harry with that book. Hermione… She just wanted to help you, but she went too far… That's how we all found out. Ron, we promise, we won't tell a soul." His story lines up with Harry's.

"You all keep saying that, but I see no reason to believe you," Ron walked up to Neville.

"I promised to keep your secrets," Neville said. "I convinced Harry and Hermione to keep what they learned to themselves."

"Harry told me that he wanted to forget what he read, and that he never meant for anyone to find out," Ron said. "Where does Hermione sit?" She's definitely my worst problem in this mess. She's socially inept as it is, and she tends to do radical things when she gets riled up.

"She… She wants to tell your sibling… She wants to help…" Neville confessed, and Ron drew in a deep breath. "But she won't, I promise."

"Fuck your promises," Ron hissed in Neville's face, who immediately went wide-eyed. "You think I'm just going to trust you three now? Why? Because you're 'sorry'? Well, I'm not the forgiving sort… You three crossed a line."

"We know…"

"Do you?" Ron asked. "Do you really understand how… how cruel… this was? What was my fucking crime, Neville? Being in Slytherin? Being on good standing with the Headmaster? What did I do to warrant this?"

"Nothing…" Neville looked down, he had said the same to Harry and Hermione.

"You Gryffindors are just as bad as us," Ron shook his head, and then he took a step back. "We can be conniving, self-serving, and some of us are bigoted idiots… But you Lions? You think you own this fucking school. You do as you please, you never face any real consequences because the Professors shelter you, and your self-righteous attitudes are mistaken for 'bravery'. House of the Chivalrous my arse…"

"So… We're done?" Neville looked up with a crestfallen look. Throw him a lifeline, just like Daphne advised.

"Your story lines up with Harry's," Ron said, and Neville seemed to relax a little. "As angry as I am, I can't blame you for your friends' actions. You were just there when they found out, which isn't a crime…" Ron then looked to the Entrance. "Where are Harry and Hermione now?"

"Probably in the Entrance Hall," Neville replied. "Hermione wanted to come and talk to you, but Harry forced her to stay back." Good, I only invited you.

"You and I can continue as normal, but tell the other two that I'm done with them," Ron said. "From today on, I will not approach them. I will not speak to them. I will not help them. They are also banned from my study group, whereas you can still attend."

"I…" Neville started, but then he stopped. He wanted to argue this, but he really had no leg to stand on. Ron was the wronged party, Neville really did understand that, but he also didn't want Harry and Hermione to be tossed out into the cold. "I understand…"

"Alright then," Ron gave a curt nod. "You can leave, and take your friends with you. I don't want to see their faces." Neville stared at him for a few moments, and then he turned around and left. As Neville disappeared into the castle, Ron found himself rubbing his forehead. A part of him wanted to make the Trio suffer for their sheer nerve, but at the same time, a part of him understood that escalating things would only cause problems. He had learned his lesson last year, and he wasn't planning on repeating past mistakes.

---

Thursday 19th November, 1993 (Defense Against Dark Arts Classroom – After Morning Classes)

"Ron, can you please stay behind?" Remus asked, and Ron stopped packing his things. The lesson on Grindylows had been quite pleasant, though their yellow toad-like eyes had jarred Ron a little too much.

"We'll be outside, mate," Blaise gave Ron's back a pat, and then he joined the vacating students. Once everyone was gone, Remus gave Ron a sorry look. Um… What?

"Ron, I'm really sorry about Harry," Remus apologized, his guilt extremely evident. "He told me everything, and I've given him a month's worth of detention. He'll be here every day after classes, I promise."

"Oh…" Ron said, and then he slid out of his seat.

"I'm sorry that he did that to you," Remus apologized again. "I… I know what it's like to want to keep a condition to yourself… Harry had no right to snoop through your things."

"Remus, it's alright," Ron gave the man a weak smile. "It's not your fault. Harry is his own person, and he made his own choices. I don't blame you for this, and I never will." Remus let out a sigh and gave a weak nod, he had been so shocked, and disappointed, to learn of Harry's terrible behavior.

"I just can't believe that he'd take things this far," Remus said, his eyes darting towards where Harry had been sitting. "Well done for not taking action yourself, by the way. It was very mature of you."

"Thanks," Ron said. "I really wanted to, but it didn't work out very nicely for me last year.

"You did the right thing by coming to us," Remus walked up and patted Ron's right shoulder. "I've made Harry promise to keep your conditions to himself, and I'm told that Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore have done the same."

"What about Hermione? Did he tell you how she found out?" Ron asked.

"Yes…" Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. "She also received talks from Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore, and as far as I know, she's taken their words to heart. She won't tell anyone, I'm sure of it."

"Right," Ron said, and then he drew in a deep breath. Relax, and don't get riled up. "It just feels… unfair… Last year it was the Polyjuice Potion, and this year, it's this… Both times, I didn't do anything to warrant their suspicions." That I know of. Remus stared at Ron, and then he gave him a comforting smile.

"Kids make mistakes," Remus started. "When I was a student here, I did some terrible things as well. At the time, they didn't feel wrong, but now I understand better. I was far too proud of my House, and far too timid to stop my friends. What I'm trying to say is that we can only learn from our mistakes. Harry, Hermione, and Neville will learn from this, we'll make sure of it."

"Alright," Ron nodded. "I leave it you adults then." Plus, you're saving me time and effort.

"Good," Remus smiled at him. "Now if I recall correctly, I offered you some private lessons at the start of the year." Oh, he did… I completely forgot about them.

"You did promise me that," Ron smiled more fully. "But then you forgot all about me… It's alright, I get it… You don't like me all that much."

"Get out of it," Remus chuckled. "When are you free?"

"Well…" Ron thought about it. "I've got my session with Pomfrey after classes today, I've got my study group tomorrow, and I have work on Saturday and then Dueling Training on Sunday-"

"Merlin," Remus laughed. "Are you always that busy?"

"Rest is for the weak," Ron smirked. "I'm free Sunday afternoon though."

"Alright, drop by my Office during the evening," Remus instructed. "I'll teach you some handy tricks that I've picked up over the years." Now that sounds like a plan.

---

Thursday 19th November, 1993 (Slytherin Training Area – After Lunch)

"Homenum Revelio," Ron chanted, and he felt the presence of everyone in the room. No one was under the Disillusionment Charm at the moment, of course, but Ron still knew that the Spell had worked. It was an odd sensation, to feel exactly where everyone in the room was without even looking. Wicked, and it's quite simple too. Just point and say the incantation.

"Did you lot feel that?" Theo asked the others, and both Blaise and Millie nodded.

"Felt what?" Ron looked to them, they were practicing their own Spellwork.

"It was like something swooped over me," Millie replied, and Theo clicked his fingers and nodded.

"Same," Theo said, while Blaise eyed Ron.

"What did you do?" Blaise asked, and Ron raised his hands in mock surrender. Don't tell them yet. You might be Dueling one of them at the Tournament, and this Spell could give you a huge advantage.

"I didn't do anything," Ron lied. "I'm just practicing the Bird-Summoning Charm." Which I still can't cast properly. How am I supposed to learn Conjuring Magic if I can't even summon some bloody birds?

Blaise went to say something, but he stopped when he spotted Malfoy enter the room. Ron followed his gaze, and he saw the Malfoy Heir skulk to a corner in order to practice his Magic by himself. He's been so… distant. I don't think I've heard him speak since our chat, but at least he didn't leave. The others went back to their Spellwork, but Ron kept his eyes on Malfoy. Why did he come here? He could just practice at the Sanctuary if he wants to be left alone.

"Fluctus Inpulsa," Millie chanted as she drove her wand downwards, and a bright blue light emanated from beneath her feet. Everyone looked to her in time to see her float into the air, and as she squealed, the Spell was undone. Millie landed with a dull thud, but instead of just laying there, she quickly sprang up to her feet. "That didn't work right… Ow…"

"Are you alright?" Theo asked. "Are you trying your father's 'Shockwave Charm'?"

"Trying being the operative word," Millie groaned, her free hand rubbing her lower back. "My tailbone…"

"Be more careful, please," Ron called.

"That's rich coming from you…" Millie mumbled, and then she walked over to a chair to sit down. Blaise and Theo smirked at her, and then they returned to their own training. Look at us… Hiding Spells from each other in order to win the Dueling Tournaments. I love it. Ron shot a look towards Malfoy, and against his better judgement, decided to join him.

"What are you working on?" Ron asked in an almost friendly voice.

"Nothing," Malfoy lied.

"Then you're in the wrong room," Ron teased, while Malfoy shot him an annoyed look. "C'mon, Malfoy… I'm trying to reach out here."

"For Merlin's sake…" Malfoy drew in a sharp breath. "I don't want to talk to you."

"Then why are you here?" Ron asked. "Why come here instead of seeking solitude at the Sanctuary?"

"I can go where I please, Weasley," Malfoy said abrasively. He doesn't want to be alone, but he doesn't want to talk to me either. Hmmm… I'll leave him be for now.

"Alright, I get it," Ron said, making sure to sound slightly hurt. "I'll leave you be…" With that, Ron turned around and left quietly. He didn't see regret cross Malfoy's face for a moment, but he already knew that the Malfoy Heir would regret choosing isolation. The others don't even look in his direction when I'm not around, so he'll come around eventually. Until then, I'll just make sure to keep my eyes on him. I don't want him getting caught up with Flint again, or falling back on his previous behavior.

As Ron neared his old spot, he decided to practice his Non-verbal Magic. It wasn't as hard as he imagined it to be, and as of right now, he could produce a rather weak stunner. Practice makes perfect, Ron. Just keep at it.

---

Pansy Parkinson's POV

Thursday 19th November, 1993 (The Triumvirate's Room – After Classes)

How did Ron deal with these three? They were so damn demanding, and they were never satisfied. Sure, they gave her a voice, and if her ideas were good, the Triumvirate implemented them immediately, but it was just so taxing to treat party planning as a job.

Of the three older witches, Pansy liked Clara the most. Clara was approachable, spoke with a kind voice, and she also preferred making jokes rather than dishing out orders. It was a wonder that these three were even friends. Samantha was extremely cold, and she never minced her words, much to Pansy's dislike. And Carey… Carey was the perfect blend of Samantha and Clara. She had Clara's approachable demeanor, but Samantha's coldness if she didn't approve of something.

Working under them had made Pansy appreciate Ron's efforts even more, mostly because she knew that she wasn't cut out for such grunt work. Actually, none of them were. Theo was too self-serving, Blaise was too indifferent, Daphne was too proud to be an underling, Tracey would turn this into a joke, and Millie hated things like party planning. So how did Ron deal with these three so often? He does the grunt work, while we reap the rewards. We've all thought that before, but now I've got a clearer picture than before.

"Pansy," Samantha clicked her fingers in Pansy's face. "Wake up, we're not done yet."

"Sorry," Pansy apologized to the raven-haired witch, she was oddly frightened of displeasing Samantha. "I missed what you were saying."

"We were asking after the punch that Ron served at his party," Clara smiled at her.

"The apricot one?" Pansy asked.

"That's the one," Carey nodded to herself, her voice was so smooth on the ears. "We should serve it at our party. After all, it was a favorite."

"Actually, I think that we should serve something new," Pansy said. "Serving the same punch as Ron doesn't give a very good message to the people in this House."

"They'll think that we're stealing from him," Samantha figured, and Pansy nodded.

"This party is being hosted by you three-" Pansy started.

"And you, Pansy," Carey interrupted. "Don't sell yourself short, we certainly won't." Pansy didn't know why, but her cheeks burned due to the compliment from the beautiful witch. Control yourself, woman!

"Thanks," Pansy all but whispered, a bashful smile on her face. Carey stared at her for a couple of seconds, and then she gave Pansy a warm smile. I think I'm definitely into girls as well…

"Please, go on," Carey said smoothly.

"Ahem," Pansy cleared her throat. "This party is being hosted by the Silver Triumvirate, so we can't copy anything from Ron's parties. Everything has to be different, especially the refreshments. I personally suggest Strawberry Storm, a cocktail made by the White Wyvern Pub in Knockturn Alley."

"Knockturn Alley?" Clara blinked.

"Trust me, it's just amazing," Pansy assured them. "My mother served it in one of our parties, and not a single adult left the Manor sober. They make the cocktail away from Knockturn Alley, and they only sell it in bulk."

"Which saves us money," Samantha looked to Carey and Clara. "We're already burning through our meager budget on the food and decorations." Snape is a little cheap, isn't he? But then again, he probably doesn't care much for parties.

"Pansy, order the Strawberry Storm," Carey looked between Clara and Samantha, while Pansy wondered about their silent conversations. They communicate by just looking at each other… It's quite unnerving. "We three will reimburse you from our own pockets, so make sure to order a lot."

"Planning to get someone drunk, Carey?" Clara giggled. "Should I be jealous?"

"Just because we're throwing a party doesn't mean that I can't use it to my advantage," Carey smirked. "Don't forget that I've seen you pounce a few drunk boys."

"And girls," Samantha added with a knowing smile, while Clara shot her a wink. Girls? So she's… She's like me?

"I'll go order that punch now," Pansy spoke up, and Carey gave her a nod.

"We'll finish up the rest," Samantha told Pansy. "You can go about your day after you've ordered the punch." Pansy gave her a nod, and then she left the room a little too quickly. As she began making her way to her room, a certain busty witch quickly caught up to her.

"Don't move so fast, Pansy," Clara hummed as she tangled her arm with Pansy's. "Some people might take offence at your hurry to leave their presence." What?

"No, it's not like that," Pansy said quickly, while Clara just smiled at her. "I was… I just wanted to order that punch…" Salazar just rolled in his grave because of how lame that lie was.

"It's that good, is it?" Clara chuckled.

"Um… I don't know what to say…" Pansy admitted, her face heating up.

"Then say nothing, and listen," Clara hummed.

"Listen?" Pansy asked as they neared Pansy's room.

"I couldn't help but notice your long looks at Carey," Clara teased, and Pansy's mouth dropped open.

"I…"

"Shhh, it's alright," Clara assured her quickly. "I think she's gorgeous as well." Clara then pushed open the door, and they both entered together. Both girls realized that the room was empty, which meant that Pansy's roommates were with the boys. "Do you have a brochure?"

"Pardon?" Pansy blinked, her arm still tangled with Clara's.

"For the punch, Pansy," Clara said, and Pansy nodded quickly. "You're quite adorable."

"Adorable?" Pansy blinked.

"When you first came to Slytherin, I wrote you off as just another Pure-Blood brat, but I was wrong," Clara went on, while Pansy just stared at her. "You are much more interesting than that."

"I am?" Pansy mumbled, she was thoroughly confused.

"Certainly," Clara replied, and then she moved them to Tracey's bed. They sat down on the edge of the bed, their arms still tangled.

"Why do you think that I'm 'interesting'?" Pansy asked slowly.

"Why wouldn't I?" Clara smiled sweetly. "I see much of myself in you, after all." Huh? "Oh, don't look so shocked, it's not an impossible thing. Like you, I too felt… different."

"I don't feel different…" Pansy said, but deep down, Pansy knew that she was different. She didn't care about House standing, or her grades, or about making Pure-Blood children. She used to, but her friends had changed her outlook on things. Now she simply wanted to embrace herself and live in the moment, nothing more. Which is easier said than done.

"Don't you?" Clara asked. "Don't you ever feel out of place? Don't you ever feel like you're holding back? Don't you ever feel like you're not being you in order to satisfy someone else?"

"Um…" Pansy swallowed thickly. "What is this?"

"It's just a friendly chat," Clara hummed. "As a member of the Triumvirate, I have to make sure that all of Slytherin's students feel safe and comfortable." Clara then smiled like a Cheshire cat. "Do you prefer girls over boys, Pansy?"

"Pardon?" Pansy was visibly taken aback.

"Well?"

"I… I prefer boys…" Pansy replied awkwardly. "But…" she trailed off.

"You also find girls attractive?" Clara asked, her smile becoming warmer. Pansy didn't say anything, which only gave her away. "Me too."

"I got that," Pansy muttered under her breath.

"See? We are alike," Clara squeezed her arm. "Let me just tell you that there's nothing wrong with that, and if a pretty girl strikes your fancy, then you should take the leap."

"I haven't even taken any 'leaps' with boys yet," Pansy said lamely.

"Really?" Clara asked, and Pansy nodded weakly. "Not even a kiss?"

"I… I gave my friend Ron a peck on the lips once…" Pansy admitted, and something gleamed behind Clara's eyes. "But that was mostly because he had done something really selfless, and I really wanted to show him that I love him. I wasn't making a move on him." Even Daphne understands that. "Honestly, I'm not sure that he liked it…"

"Did he tell you that he didn't?" Clara asked, and Pansy shook her head. "Then trust me, he didn't mind it at all."

"I read that in some cultures, friends kiss all the time," Pansy said. "I just thought that I'd try it."

"What a coincidence, I read a similar thing when I was your age," Clara told her. "And one day, I plucked up the courage to kiss Samantha. Not as a lover would, but more as a greeting."

"Really?" Pansy whispered, she sounded almost scandalized. Why did I get so excited just now?

"After I did so, she asked me why I had kissed her," Clara remembered. "I told her everything, and she understood that I just wanted to be closer to her. And now, it's just something that we do without thinking twice." Pansy felt her heartbeat increase a bit, her old plan was now at the forefront of her mind. I remember that Tracey was on board, but I never brought it up to the boys.

"And Carey?" Pansy swallowed thickly.

"She also plays along," Clara replied.

"So all three of you…" Pansy started, but then she stopped herself.

"You should express your love the way you want, not how others expect you to," Clara advised. "If your friends don't mind, then what does it matter what others say? People will always find reasons to criticize you, but if you ignore them and just be yourself, you'll be too happy to care." Clara stood up at that, her arm untangling from Pansy's. "Hogwarts will end for you in five years, so enjoy it as much as you can. Create friendships that will last a lifetime, and live each day as you want. And if anyone tells you to live differently, then cut them out of your life. Don't let someone else decide what your life ought to be."

With that, Clara shot Pansy a wink and left the room. Pansy just sat there, her mind working faster than it ever had. Five years, and then I won't see my friends every day. Instead, I'll be living with my Family… The thought made her gut twist a little, she really didn't want that to happen. Pansy stood up and patted her cheeks, Clara was dead right.

"I'm Pansy Parkinson," Pansy hyped herself up. "I am Pansy, and I'll do whatever I want!" At this party, when we've all had some alcohol, I'll bring up my old idea. They'll all agree, and we'll be closer than ever. Pansy smiled like a Cheshire cat, now she couldn't wait for this party.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Friday 20th November, 1993 (The Great Hall – Breakfast)

Ron munched on his toast, all the while listening to Tracey's rant on the banning of certain joke items. All of them were listening to her impassioned speech, and none of them knew enough about joke items to start a discussion.

"And now, the Ministry wants to ban Magical Fireworks too?" Tracey scoffed. "It's just so stupid… We have bigger problems in this country than people potentially breaking the Statute of Secrecy by mistake."

"Plus, we can always Obliviate Muggles," Theo added, and Tracey nodded fervently.

"Exactly!" Tracey exclaimed, making everyone flinch a bit. "They have a team at the Ministry who are literally called 'The Obliviaters'. I swear, they just want to suck the fun out of being Magical. They want us all to work under them, slaving away so they can keep getting richer."

"So… You won't work at the Ministry once you graduate?" Pansy asked.

"Never," Tracey replied, it sounded like a promise. "I plan to take over my father's business, and then spread it to the rest of the World. And when I'm loaded, I'll use my money to fight these ludicrous bans and regulations."

"That's money well spent," Blaise said sarcastically, he had zoned out for the whole speech.

"If that makes her happy, then she should do it," Pansy said, and Tracey smiled at her. "We should all do whatever makes us happiest, right?" Ron and Daphne exchanged looks, why was Pansy constantly reinforcing the idea of 'happiness' to them? I swear, it only just started yesterday.

"What do you think, Malfoy?" Ron looked to his left, and the Malfoy Heir kept his eyes on his plate.

"He asked you a question, Malfoy," Theo said, but Malfoy ignored him as well. His quietness was starting to piss the others off, mostly because it was now bordering on being creepy.

"It's alright," Ron said calmly, while the others frowned at Malfoy. "If not talking makes him happiest, then he ought to do it. Right, Pansy?"

"Exactly," Pansy nodded, but then she blinked at him. "Wait… What? No…"

"Oh, too late," Ron sniggered. "I got you!"

"You…" Pansy frowned at him, while the other chuckled at her expense. "Arse."

"Bitch," Ron grinned, and her lips twitched upwards.

"There's an owl coming at us," Blaise pointed out, and Ron looked up to see a brown owl flying straight for him. Ron spotted a letter being carried in its talons, which the owl dropped before flying back out. Ron caught the letter, and then he stared at the owl as it flew out of the Great Hall.

"Wow… It didn't even bother landing," Daphne cocked an eyebrow. "I don't think that was an ordinary owl."

"Who is it from?" Blaise asked, he was suddenly interested in chatting. Ron looked the letter over, and once he saw the Ministry's Seal on it, he quickly opened it.

Mr. Ronald Weasley,

Madam Bones has come to me with your proposal, and I must admit, it has caught me off-guard. It sounds too good to be true, especially considering how young you are.

The French and British Ministries have too much bad blood between them, so I am taking this proposal very seriously. If you have indeed convinced Madame Olympe Maxime of Beauxbatons to stand by you, then I must take your request into serious consideration. As Minister, I must put the betterment of our Ministry ahead of precedent. (The betterment of our Ministry? So not our people, eh?)

I have recently returned from Albania in order to attend the upcoming St. Mungo's Charity Gala, and I'd like to meet you. We can discuss your role in further negotiations with the French over some tea. Meet me at The Leaky Cauldron on Sunday evening, and we will negotiate terms and conditions.

Best Regards,

Your Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge.

Ron pocketed the letter with a smile on his face, his plan was coming to fruition. I must inform Madame Maxime that things are looking good on my end.

"Ron? Who was that letter from?" Theo asked. "It had the Ministry Seal on it."

"Was it Madam Bones?" Millie asked.

"It was the Minister," Ron told them, much to their disbelief. "I am to have tea with the man on Sunday evening."

"Really?" Tracey blinked at him, while Daphne made sure to hold back her smile.

"Why does the Minister want to meet you?" Malfoy asked, and Ron smirked at him.

"Now he talks…" Pansy shot Malfoy a quick look. "But seriously, why does he want to meet you?"

"Are they really taking your proposal that seriously?" Blaise asked, and Ron blinked at him. "What? I just didn't think that they would… Ron, you're thirteen years old, and these people are extremely proud. I can't see them letting you run rampant."

"I'm sure they don't want to," Ron shrugged. "But beggars can't be choosers, Blaise. The Ministry is hurting, and I happen to have bandages. They can either take me seriously, or they can bleed out." Wait… Sunday evening… I'll have to cancel with Remus. Damn. Ron stood up and backed out of his seat, while the others just stared at him. "I have things to take care of, so I'll see you lot in class."

"Don't be late, or Snape will have your hide," Daphne bid him farewell, a hint of pride in her voice. Ron leaned down and gave her a peck, and then he left for the staff table. I'll just tell Remus that I'm not feeling well enough to push myself too much. I can't have him telling my parents about my meeting with Fudge, they'll only get in my way again. After that, I'll send Helios to France with a message for Madame Maxime. I need to know if her Minister has given into our demands.

---

Friday 20th November, 1993 (Dumbledore's Office – Before Dinner)

"This is quite the opportunity, Ronald," Dumbledore said as he finished reading the letter, Ron had told Snape and Dumbledore everything. Dumbledore then handed the letter back to Ron, who pocketed it quickly.

"It is an opportunity for Fudge as well," Snape pointed out. "If he becomes known as the Minister who helped settle the bad blood between the French and the British, removing him from Office will become difficult. I'm sure that he knows this, which is why he's even considering it."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Ron feigned hurt, and when Snape frowned at him, Ron grinned from ear-to-ear.

"Fudge might be a fool, but even a blind bird finds a worm occasionally," Snape said coldly. "Don't underestimate him, or you will hinder our plans for Amelia Bones."

"The people will understand that it was Amelia's mind that gave birth to this Gala, not Fudge's," Dumbledore said, his hand rubbing his chin. "All we have to do is speak to the right people, and they'll spread the word. While Ronald brings Madame Maxime, and her allies, into Britain, you and I must work to credit Amelia, Severus. Cornelius' involvement will be evident to all, but we must make sure that the people know who's really behind this event."

"I can bribe a few speakers in Knockturn Alley," Snape said, and Dumbledore gave him a nod. "They'll get the word out, and by the time the event's success hits the papers, everyone in Knockturn Alley will know who to thank."

"I will speak to the proper British Families attending the Gala then, while Ronald speaks to the French Families," Dumbledore looked to Ron, who gave him a nod. "We must, however, be extremely cautious. Cornelius cannot know of our… treason."

"It's not treason to dethrone a fool," Snape said.

"Incompetence should not be met with blind loyalty," Ron added. "Plus, I didn't vote in this attention hungry twat."

"Cornelius was elected due to happenstance," Dumbledore told Ron. "Many wanted me to take the position of Minister, but I refused it. They then looked to Barty Crouch Snr, who was shamed soon after due to his son's actions. Cornelius was then elected, and he's always had a chip on his shoulder ever since. This is where his need for approval comes from, and it has festered for too long. If he even suspects that we are after his Office, he will retaliate."

"Won't he take action if everyone is crediting Madam Bones?" Ron asked.

"Her reputation in the Ministry rivals his own, and her strength of character is well known," Dumbledore replied. "He will not risk attacking his own employee for doing her job."

"And if he does, then that only makes our job easier," Snape stated, and then he looked to Ron. "How far along is your magazine?"

"Not very," Ron sighed out. "I still haven't started looking for a staff, I don't have a location for the Offices, and Barnabas Cuffe is trying to crawl into my arse."

"He wants to use your magazine to promote himself?" Dumbledore asked.

"Worse, I think he wants to control all the Media in Magical Britain," Ron replied. "Honestly, every single person in this country has some scheme going, and it's starting to vex me."

"Cuffe has deals with the Ministry," Snape spoke to himself. "He has deals with Fudge…"

"Which is why I just don't trust him," Ron said. "He gave me some sympathetic tripe about wanting to do the right thing, but he genuinely came across as arrogant."

"Arrogant?" Snape cocked an eyebrow.

"He thinks that he can use my inexperience to tug on my heartstrings," Ron rolled his eyes. "Dumb bastard has no idea that I have my own plans to implement." Ron then drew in a deep breath. "He told me that he has eyes everywhere in order to intimidate me, but I've taken it as a lesson. My movements are limited in Diagon Alley, and possibly even Knockturn Alley, so I can't just do as I please anymore."

"Severus and I don't have Barnabas' attention," Dumbledore said. "If certain things can't be done by you, we'll take over your duties. You need to stay focused on getting The Quibbler prepared, it is vital to our Future endeavors."

"I understand," Ron said.

"Your brochures have done a marvelous job of highlighting Amelia's efforts," Dumbledore went on. "But the people of Knockturn Alley need to be told of who is trying to help them the most. Severus, can you find these speakers tomorrow?"

"I can," Snape gave a curt nod. "The Gala is next Saturday, and by then, everyone in Knockturn Alley will know the truth. I'll even tell the speakers to discredit Fudge for wasting so many resources on a foreign country's problems."

"What if someone recognizes you?" Ron asked.

"I am a Potions Master, Ron," Snape drawled, a deadpan look on his face. "I have Polyjuice Potion on hand."

"Oh… Forget what I said then," Ron said.

"I often do," Snape remarked, and Ron let out a snigger.

"The Potions Master? More like the 'Cheek Master'," Ron grinned at Dumbledore, while Snape used his Occlumency to control his anger.

"That's five points from Slytherin," Snape scowled a little, while Ron just sniggered to himself.

"Ronald, stop bullying Severus," Dumbledore chuckled, this was the first time that he had managed a proper smile since Elphias' murder, but as soon as that thought hit him, his smile withered away.

"Are we done?" Snape asked curtly.

"Just one last thing," Ron spoke up. "Headmaster, are you still planning to attend Elphias Doge's funeral alone?" It's happening tomorrow, isn't it?

"I am," Dumbledore replied, his voice completely controlled. "There will be other attendees, of course, but no one from the Order will attend. We cannot take such risks anymore. As Alastor always says, we must be ever vigilant."

"Who else is attending?" Ron asked.

"Members of the Wizengamot," Dumbledore replied. "Cornelius is also attending, and so are Amelia and Augusta."

"Augusta Longbottom?" Snape asked. "I thought that you said that no Order members will be there."

"She is not exactly a member," Dumbledore replied. "She wants to help, and she believes my claims about Lord Voldemort, but she is no soldier. She will aid us in her own way."

"Money and influence, you mean," Ron said, and Dumbledore nodded. "Our financial situation is looking great, by the way. Lord Greengrass, Mr. Davis, and now Augusta Longbottom… Not to mention Madame Maxime and the French Families who believe her. At this rate, we could buy an army."

"We are certainly better prepared than last time," Dumbledore smiled a little. "Thank you, Ronald." What? Ron blinked at the old man, what was he being thanked for?

"Um… You're welcome?" Ron looked towards Snape, who just looked bored now.

"You two should get some rest," Dumbledore advised. "This next week will be quite long, I imagine." Right…

---

Lord Voldemort's POV

Friday 20th November, 1993 (Malfoy Manor – Near Midnight)

He was impressed with the Wards that were protecting Malfoy Manor, but in the end, he had undone them within thirty minutes. Lucius relied far too much on the Dark Lord's own teachings, which only served to aid his Master. Once the Wards were deactivated, and no one was alerted, Lord Voldemort's shadowy form hovered over the Manor.

"Essentia Revelio," the Dark Lord hissed, and his eyes blazed red. He could now see every single lifeform within the Manor through its walls, and he found Lucius sitting in his library alone. The Dark Lord's body morphed into shadow and mist, and he found himself rematerializing right behind an unaware Lucius.

"Lucius…" the Dark Lord whispered, and Lucius Malfoy jerked out of his chair. The Death-Eater turned around and kneeled immediately, much to the Dark Lord's pleasure.

"My Lord," Lucius spoke to the ground. "You have returned from Russia." He knows about Russia?

"And how do you know of where I've been?" Lord Voldemort asked.

"The Blood Lord… He came to me," Lucius replied, while Lord Voldemort circled his follower.

"Go on," the Dark Lord whispered.

"He wanted to know the names of Order members, but I could only tell him of Elphias Doge, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Alastor Moody," Lucius said. "The others are… unknown."

"Elphias Doge," the Dark Lord's lipless mouth curled upwards. "Dumbledore's 'oldest friend'… His death has pleased Lord Voldemort. Well done, Lucius."

"I live to serve, my Lord," Lucius said, a hint of pride coming through. Do you, wretch? Lord Voldemort maintained his composure, Lucius would suffer for his mistakes eventually. But right now, I need his wealth and influence.

"You live to serve," the Dark Lord ran his fingers through the back of Lucius' long hair, and he felt his follower tense immediately. "There is one other who claims the same… Severus Snape."

"Severus?" Lucius all but whispered. "My Lord, he is your loyal follower. He has deceived even Dumbledore for you, and he-"

"Spare me of your fondness for that filthy traitor, Lucius," the Dark Lord hissed, and Lucius ceased his chatter. "He was the only one who knew of my presence in Albania, and he handed that information over to the old fool! He has been disloyal since the day I planned to attack the Potters!"

"The Potters?" Lucius muttered.

"His love for that Mud-Blood was revolting enough, but his betrayal is his true crime," Lord Voldemort's eyes blazed with murderous intent. "We must get rid of him, Lucius. He is a cancer that will undo our work." Lord Voldemort's work.

"You… You wish to kill him," Lucius seemed to deflate a little.

"Call him here," the Dark Lord instructed. "Bring him to me."

"I… My Lord, please reconsider-"

"Crucio!" Lord Voldemort shrieked, and Lucius let out a startled scream as he began thrashing about like a fish out of water. The Dark Lord held the Curse for a moment, but just as he was about to undo it, his former protégé let out a meek sob. Not even ten seconds?! "CRUCIO!" Lucius began thrashing about with renewed vigor, though he was trying his best to take the Curse without giving in. However, after five more seconds of the Dark Lord's amplified Torture Curse, Lucius' will failed him.

"My Lord! Please!" Lucius screamed, and the Dark Lord cut off the Curse. Weak fool! Lucius was struggling to even breathe, but when he heard his wife's hurried footsteps, he grit his teeth and tried to stand up.

"LOVE?!" Narcissa Malfoy burst into the room, only to freeze in her spot when she saw the Dark Lord. Lord Voldemort acted without hesitation, and with a flick of his wand, he yanked the witch into the room and pinned her up on the ceiling.

"My Lord… I'll call him… I'll call him right now, please don't harm her…" Lucius whimpered, much to the Dark Lord's disgust. To think that I held him in such high regard once. How was I so blind to his weakness? The Dark Lord's time in isolation had taught him that he was far too lenient with the fools that surrounded him, and that he put too much faith in worms like Severus and Lucius. Bellatrix should've been my second, not this coward. She was loyal even when they locked her away in Azkaban, whereas Lucius and Severus both turned traitor.

"Bring him to me…" the Dark Lord ordered, and then he sent Lucius flying towards the door with a wave of his hand. "You have twenty minutes, Lucius. I'll paint the ceiling with your wife's blood if you fail me."

"I understand… I understand," Lucius mumbled as he willed himself to his feet, his hysterical eyes traveling up to his terrified wife.

"She can't even open her mouth, Lucius," the Dark Lord looked up at the teary eyed witch. "My Spell is crushing her even as we speak. Go…" Lucius all but ran out of the Library at that.

---

Severus Snape's POV

Friday 20th November, 1993 (Snape's Office – Near Midnight)

Snape finished bottling up Lupin's Wolfsbane Potion, the Full Moon would be upon them soon. Personally, he wanted Remus Lupin gone from Hogwarts, but Albus had insisted that Hogwarts needed Lupin's skills. Lupin's skills… He picked a filthy mongrel over me. Under me, the students of this school could actually learn something that will save their lives. As Snape finished putting Lupin's Potion away, his fireplace blazed to life.

"Severus, are you here?" came Lucius' voice, and Snape stepped out of his store.

"Lucius? What brings you here?" Snape asked, and then he noticed his guest's state. Lucius looked composed enough, but his hair and clothes were disheveled. When is he not immaculate? Something is wrong. "What's happened?"

"Narcissa… She's become ill," Lucius rasped, and then he cleared his throat. "My Elves can't do anything for her, so I've come to you."

"What were her symptoms?" Snape frowned at the man, he didn't like the idea of Narcissa falling ill.

"She didn't have any," Lucius replied. "She was perfectly fine one moment, and then she collapsed."

"Might be something she ate," Snape guessed, and then he collected the appropriate Potions from his store. "Take me to her."

"Come, she's in my library," Lucius said as he walked through the fire, and Snape followed after him.

"Does she have a fever?" Snape inquired, and Lucius nodded. A fever, and she collapsed without any symptoms… Poison? No, but it must be some sort of reaction to what she ate. "Did she have pale greenish skin?"

"I… I don't know," Lucius sped up a little, which Snape thought was completely out of character. I didn't feel the Anti-Apparation Wards… Why is that? Lucius never removes those. Snape studied the man ahead of him, and he noticed that Lucius' left hand had a tremor. Odd… Is he that worried over a fever? Snape kept following his old ally, but eventually, he could no longer deny that something was off.

"Lucius, what's really going on?" Snape stopped, and Lucius quickly turned to face him.

"Pardon?" Lucius asked, his left hand moving behind him.

"We're nearly at the Library, but I don't hear anything," Snape said. "And your left hand is trembling. What's going on here?"

Lucius went to say something, but then his eyes widened at something behind Snape, who felt a rush of air flow past him. Snape turned around with a curious look, only to spot blazing red eyes staring back at him from the shadows. Is that-

Snape's thoughts died the moment something seized his blood, and he howled in pain as he was sent flying into the ceiling. He hovered in the air for a moment, his mind reeling from the impact, only to be slammed back down into the hardwood floor. From his ringing ears, he heard Lucius rush off towards the Library.

"Severus…" the shadows hissed, and then the Dark Lord emerged. Snape managed to look up through blurry vision, and his heart skipped a beat. There stood the Dark Lord, his long black robes spawning shadows all over the hallway. "My traitorous pupil…"

"My… My Lord…" Snape managed to kneel up, he had to act right now.

"Silence!" the Dark Lord ordered, and Snape's throat all but closed up. The Silencing Charm? He cast it with mere thought? "Spare me your false tales of loyalty, Severus. Your betrayals will not be forgotten, nor forgiven."

Snape barely managed a thought before he was sent flying through a nearby door, chips of thick wood scratching his side to pieces. He's trying to kill me… Some primal instinct awoke in Snape, and he completely ignored the pain as he stood up and bolted for the safest exit. After a few turns and twists, Snape ended up in the currently unlit Ballroom. He secured himself behind a thick column, his wand at the ready. That's when he felt the Anti-Apparation Jinx go up, and Snape cursed his own foolishness.

"Severus…" the Dark Lord hissed in his mind. "I know you can hear me. Come out, traitor, and Lord Voldemort will be merciful. Come out, and death will find you swiftly."

Snape undid the Silencing Charm placed on him, and then he thought to bargain with the Dark Lord. I have to convince him of my loyalty. If I don't, we will lose a major advantage in the war.

"I know that you are false," Lord Voldemort spoke into his mind, and Snape felt the urge to cover his hears. "Quirrell told only you of Albania, so imagine my surprise when Dumbledore came to kill me. You told him, didn't you? You handed Pettigrew, a valuable ally, over to the Ministry without a second thought. You've become Dumbledore's man, Lord Voldemort knows."

A part of Snape knew that he needed to appeal to the Dark Lord, but something about this set up told him that he was never leaving this Manor alive. Fawkes! Snape went to call out to the Phoenix, but then he stopped himself. Lucius has Wards against Phoenix's, even he knows of Fawkes. Then there was only one option… He had to sneak out of the Manor, and then run past the Wards. Snape knew that if he faced the Dark Lord in combat, death was all but guaranteed. My ribs are at least fractured, and I can barely stand up straight.

Snape cast the Human-Presence-Revealing Spell Non-verbally, and he felt that a presence was above him. What? Snape looked up at the ceiling, and he saw two bright red eyes staring down at him from the darkness. Both wizards fired Curses at each other, escape was no longer possible.

He felt something extremely hot barely miss his right shoulder, while the Dark Lord's mist-like form began flying around the Ballroom. Snape rushed towards the door, his eyes peeled for Curses, which came by the dozens. Snape blocked and dodged the onslaught as he ran towards the door, but a Blasting Curse collapsed the ceiling down, effectively blocking off Snape's exit.

Snape turned around quickly, and the red light of the Torture Curse flew past his left ear. Snape was quickly put on the defensive, he could not keep up with the Dark Lord's ferocity.

"My Lord, I am loyal!" Snape tried, but a Killing Curse was his response. Snape ducked the Curse instead of attempting a Parry Maneuver, he couldn't take any risks. He's not listening… It's over for me… As Snape realized that this was his end, he decided to fight back with everything that he had. If he was going to die, he'd at least hurt Lily's murderer.

Snape fired a Non-verbal Killing Curse at his old Master, who dodged it with inhuman speed. The two traded several Curses, but neither of them hit their marks. Snape knew that the Dark Lord was holding back, which only made Snape speed up. He had to injure this thing before it grew tired of playing with its food.

"Sectumsempra!" Snape chanted, and the Dark Lord batted away the thin white light. And then, with a twirl of his wand, the Dark Lord transfigured the rubble behind Snape into a large serpent. Snape barely had any time to react before the monstrous serpent seized his legs, which Snape tried to free with a slash of his wand. But as he raised up his hand, warm blood splattered on Snape's face. He heard his sliced wand hit the floor, and then he felt his fingers detach from his right hand.

A scream tore its way out of his throat as he realized that the Dark Lord had sliced off three of his fingers, and his wand, before he could bring his hand down. Snape fell to one knee, and he clamped his mouth shut. The pain was excruciating, but he wouldn't give the Dark Lord the satisfaction. Albus… Ron… I've failed…

"Crucio!"

---

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I know it's dickish to leave on a Cliffhanger, especially after the delay. But, I'm doing it anyway.

See you guys on Friday! (hopefully)