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.

92. Chapter 92 - Torn to Pieces

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Chapter 92 is here! It's a long, and emotional, one!

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 92 – Torn to Pieces

Daphne Greengrass' POV

Sunday 22nd November, 1993 (Common Room – Before Breakfast)

"It's Sunday, Daphne," Tracey said. "Ron's probably with his tutor right now."

"Maybe…" Daphne said, making sure to not sound distressed. He never came back from work, and I just have a bad feeling about his absence.

"Did he show up later in the night?" Pansy asked Blaise, who shook his head. See? Something is definitely wrong.

"I was up well past midnight, and he never showed up," Malfoy broke his silence, and the girls exchanged looks.

"He's fine," Theo waved a dismissive hand. "Just because we didn't see him yesterday doesn't mean that something is wrong. It just means that he was busy doing what he does."

"Doing what he does?" Millie asked, and Theo clicked his tongue.

"You know… Ron stuff," Theo shrugged.

"Ron stuff?" Daphne stared at the weedy boy.

"Scheming, running errands, training, brooding…" Blaise listed offhandedly. "Ron stuff." My boyfriend doesn't 'brood'. I mean, he does… But only I get to say that.

"Wow," Tracey scowled at the boys. "You two almost sound jealous."

"Jealous?" Theo scoffed immediately. "Why would we be jealous?"

"Keep blowing air out of your arse, Davis," Blaise rolled his eyes. Really? They're going to argue first thing in the morning? Daphne went to say something, but the school bell beat her.

"Let's just go to breakfast," Millie said, while Pansy stopped Tracey from escalating things.

"Jealous, she says," Theo smirked, and Daphne felt the urge to roll her eyes. We're all a bit jealous of Ron's increasing status. He's doing what we were raised to do, and he's had no formal training. It's kind of sad, really. What will our parents think of us at this Gala? Not to mention that I'm the only person who knows about his plans to become a diplomat. Everyone else is in for quite the surprise.

"You lot go on, I just need to grab something from my room," Daphne said, and then she left without another word. The others exchanged looks, and then they left for the Great Hall. Marty might know where Ron's been. Daphne quickly made her way to her room, and once she was inside, she called her boyfriend's Elf. Marty cracked into the room with a wide smile, and he bowed at the sight of her.

"Mistress called Marty?" Marty asked. Mistress again? Yay!

"Ahem," Daphne cleared her throat, she needed to behave. "Have you seen Ron, Marty? He never came back from work yesterday, and I'm starting to get a little worried."

"Master was not feeling well this morning," Marty told her. "Master told Marty to cancel his appointment with Madam Roberts as well." Now that's weird. Ron would never do that unless he was feeling really unwell.

"Do you know where he is? Is he at Hogwarts?" Daphne asked.

"Master is resting in his Sanctuary," Marty replied.

"I see," Daphne relaxed a little. "Thank you, Marty. You've been a great help."

"Marty lives to serve," Marty bowed deeply.

"Go back to your duties," Daphne ordered, and Marty cracked out of the room. So he's resting in the Sanctuary, eh? I wonder what's wrong with him. Daphne began making her way towards the Great Hall, she was actually quite hungry.

As she climbed up the stairs, she decided that she'd visit Ron after breakfast. I just want to make sure that he's alright, that's it. No shenanigans. Daphne smiled to herself. Maybe a few shenanigans. Ron loves cuddles, and I'm sure he'll feel better afterwards. Wait… What about the others? Daphne lost her smile immediately. They'll want to see him too. Ugh… I don't want to share. It's been ages since we got handsy with each other.

Daphne stepped into the Great Hall, her eyes immediately darting towards her friends. I should tell them about Ron's whereabouts, just so they don't worry. But after I do so, I'll convince them to let me go up there alone. I'll just make something up in order to scare them away. Daphne began making her way towards them, and she could see that Tracey and Theo were having a spat.

"What's going on here?" Daphne asked as she took her seat between Tracey and Pansy.

"Theo's being an insensitive jerk," Pansy frowned.

"Why? Because he's not walking around with a sorry look?" Blaise asked, while Tracey eyeballed a 'bored' Theo. She'll never get under his skin, he's too conniving to let that happen.

"He's not acknowledging that something might be wrong with his friend," Tracey countered. "And worse, he's patronizing us for doing so."

"Ron is fine," Theo said blandly. "Leave the bloke alone, will you? He can't even fart without you girls cornering him."

"Ron is up in Sanctuary right now," Daphne told them, she had no patience for bickering before breakfast.

"He didn't attend his lesson?" Millie asked.

"He's feeling unwell," Daphne told them.

"How did you divine this information, Greengrass?" Malfoy asked.

"I looked into my Crystal Ball," Daphne smirked at him. "A talent I picked up in Divinations." There's no need to tell him about Marty. "After breakfast, I'll go up and talk to him. Alone."

"Is he in one of his moods?" Millie asked slowly. I have no earthly idea.

"Yes," Daphne lied. "It's best that I go alone, otherwise you'll all spend the day recovering from his tongue lashings." There is no denying that whenever Ron is pissed, someone goes to sleep feeling savaged.

"Taking one for the team, are you?" Pansy whispered with a slight smirk, and Daphne gave her a cold stare. "Oh… He's really upset then?"

"You can go up if you want," Daphne said, and Pansy shook her head.

"No thanks," Pansy swallowed thickly. "The last time he was in one of his moods, he actually screamed in my face."

"In his defense, you kept messing around while he was trying to help you finish your homework," Millie pointed out.

"It was still mean," Pansy said haughtily.

"I don't remember you having this attitude back then," Theo chuckled.

"I don't remember you being such a tool," Pansy shot back.

"Ohhh, Pansy's got claws, Blaise," Theo whistled.

"Meow, bitch," Pansy smirked, while Theo and Blaise sniggered. Odd. The moment I mention Ron being in one of his moods, we're all on the same page again.

"So what's our plan for today?" Tracey asked. "I was thinking that we'd laze about, watch the fifth years' Duels, and then spend some time near the Black Lake."

"In this cold?" Blaise cocked an eyebrow. "No thanks, I'll hibernate in my room instead."

"I reckon that while Daphne deals with Ron, we should train the first and second years some more," Theo suggested. "I mean, think about it… The fifth years are going up today, which means that in three weeks' time, the second years will be having their Finals."

"That lines up, actually," Blaise nodded. "In three weeks, it'll be the thirteenth of December."

"And the term ends on the twentieth," Tracey added. "I think they're planning to have all the Finals on the thirteenth. Or at least, that's what I heard." Thirteenth? Daphne made sure to look completely calm, while she panicked internally at the prospect of losing to Granger. Ron still hasn't taught me that trick he mentioned. I know that he's really swamped right now, but I really don't want to lose to Granger again.

"I like Theo's plan," Millie piped in. "If the second years lose their Tournament, we'll all have egg on our face. Plus, I don't like the fact that they're all becoming lazy again. We need to crack down on them before it's too late."

"Just don't crack someone's skull, Millie," Daphne added. "No physical violence, alright? We need them to listen to us, not fear and hate us."

"What about you, Malfoy?" Blaise asked. "Will you be joining us?"

"The first years would certainly like that," Daphne looked to Malfoy, who was just eating quietly. "After all, you made quite the impression on them." Especially my foolish little sister.

"I have homework to get done," Malfoy said without looking up. Right… 'Homework'. Whatever, we're better off without him.

"May I have your attention?" came Dumbledore's voice, and everyone stopped their breakfasts. Daphne looked to the staff table, and much to her surprise, most of the Professors were missing. "I have an announcement to make, so listen well. Yesterday, Professor Snape was injured in a terrible Potioneering accident." What?

"Snape got hurt?" Theo whispered, while everyone in the Great Hall began whispering as well. While Dumbledore raised his hand for silence, Daphne spotted a look of genuine concern on Malfoy's face.

"His injuries were quite severe, I'm afraid," Dumbledore went on, his eyes darting towards the Slytherins. "He has been relocated to a Hospital in France, and will not be returning for the remainder of the term. As such, I will be taking over his classes." Excited chatter came from the Gryffindor table at that, and every single Slytherin looked to them. Are they excited to have Dumbledore teaching us? Or are they glad that Professor Snape got hurt? Probably both.

"Furthermore," Dumbledore went on. "Professor Snape's Potions Club will not be running anymore, at least not until he returns. His planned tests and exams are also cancelled, with the exception of the O. W. L and N. E. W. T students, who will be studying under me as they did with Professor Snape. As for the Dueling Club, Professors Lupin and Flitwick will be returning to Hogwarts shortly. They will run the Dueling Club for today. That is all, you may recommence your breakfasts." With that, Dumbledore sat back down in his chair.

"Bloody hell, is this why he wasn't around yesterday?" Theo asked, while Malfoy just stared at Dumbledore.

"An accident…" Pansy all but whispered. "They had to move him to France for treatment? It must've been a horrible-" Daphne elbowed Pansy in her side, and then she jerked her head towards Malfoy. "Oh…"

"I have to go," Malfoy stood up and left, and no one said a word. He's probably running off to send a letter to his Family. Everyone knows that Snape is quite close with the Malfoys.

"Damn… I'm going with him," Millie said, and everyone blinked at her. Pardon? "What? Ron's not here, and Flint is watching Malfoy leave."

"He really is," Theo frowned at the seventh year. "He still hasn't learned his lesson?"

"Stupid people do stupid things," Daphne reminded them. "Just be careful, Millie. People like Flint don't forget their enemies."

"Let's all go down," Blaise suggested. "One person isn't enough."

"What about breakfast?" Theo asked.

"Just get Marty to bring you food, but don't let Malfoy see him," Daphne instructed. "I'll go find Ron, he probably has no idea that Professor Snape was in an accident." He's not going to take this well. Despite their differences, I know that he looks up to Snape.

"What about the first and second years?" Tracey asked. "Are we still dragging them off to train after that announcement?"

"Snape might not be here, but that doesn't give them a free pass," Millie replied. "You heard the Headmaster, right? The Dueling Club is still happening, which means that our goals haven't changed. Ron would say the same, you know it." Millie is laying down the law. I like it.

"Alright, let's split up," Daphne said, and they all got out of their seats. Their fellow Slytherins eyed them as they left, but no one said anything about it. Daphne shot a subtle look towards the Gryffindor table, and much to her annoyance, she found quite a few of them grinning. Look at the twins… They seem far too pleased about Snape's accident.

As they entered the Entrance Hall, Carey Ductu caught up to them.

"Hold it right there," Carey called out, and they all stopped immediately. "Where are you six off to?"

"Malfoy left to owl his Family about Professor Snape's accident," Blaise stepped up. "We spotted Flint eyeing him, and so we decided to stick with him."

"Flint's acting up again?" Carey asked.

"We're not taking any chances, that's all," Daphne replied, and Carey gave her a curt nod.

"When Ron returns from his… business… tell him to come find me," Carey ordered. "Professor Snape's accident is going to have some ramifications for us all." Of that, I have no doubt.

"I'll let him know," Daphne said, and Carey left without another word.

"You don't think that the party is off, do you?" Pansy asked her friends.

"Yeah, it's not happening," Theo gave her a sorry look. "I'm sorry, Pansy, we all know how hard you worked on that." Pansy pouted miserably, and they all began making their way towards the Moving Staircase.

"I'll see you guys later," Daphne said as she broke away from the pack.

"Good luck," Tracey waved her off.

Daphne quickly made her way up towards the seventh floor, she didn't need any pesky Gryffindor spotting her. As she neared the Sanctuary, Daphne found herself at a loss. Telling Ron about Snape was definitely important, but she knew that once she did, her boyfriend would quickly lose his interest in her. Am I being clingy? Maybe… But for Merlin's sake, I barely see him as it is. A girl has her needs!

Daphne paced in front of the invisible door, and like always, it appeared out of thin air. Daphne quickly made her way inside, and once the door was sealed behind her, she looked around for Ron. He wasn't brooding in his favorite chair, nor was he destroying dummies in the sandpit. Which means…

Daphne crept towards the bed as stealthily as she could, and within seconds, she was staring down at a sleeping Ron. Aw! Look at him! He's so cute! Daphne smiled at Ron's peaceful features, he was sleeping on top of the blankets. He probably fell asleep as soon as he hit the bed. Should I wake him up? If he skipped his tutoring, it probably means that he's exhausted and needs his rest.

While Daphne pondered on what to do, her eyes scanned Ron's body. He was still wearing yesterday's clothes, which wasn't a good sign, and he had dark circles under his eyes, which meant that he hadn't slept well. The more she stared at him, the more she realized that she needed to leave. And yet, she just stood there. Don't do it, Daphne, don't bloody do it. Daphne slowly put one knee on the bed's edge, and when Ron didn't stir, she crawled up on the bed. Slowly, and carefully, she slithered closer to Ron. Daphne Greengrass, you're being extremely creepy. Just let him sleep.

Daphne cuddled his middle as she rested her head on his sternum, and Ron showed no signs of waking up. YAY! Daphne smiled like a mischievous toddler as she smelled in his scent, he always smelled so nice. She knew that it was wrong to disturb him while he slept, but the allure of cuddling her sleeping boyfriend was too strong. I bet mother would have a stroke if she saw me right now. How exciting! This is so much better than cuddling Ezekiel at night!

Daphne's mind was still debating her actions, but after a while, she simply closed her eyes and relaxed. Instead of focusing on how weird she was, Daphne found herself listening to his steady heartbeat. She concentrated on the rising and falling of his chest as he breathed, and she noticed that some of his breaths were longer than others. This is actually really nice. Daphne nuzzled her face into his chest, and he still showed no signs of waking up.

But then, he tried to turn in his sleep. Daphne's hold stopped him, and as a result, his eyes began to open. Oh, shite! Daphne found herself staring into his bloodshot eyes, and neither of them said a word. Tell him that it's a dream. Wait, that'll never work. C'mon, Daphne. Think.

"Um… Hello," Daphne broke the silence, while Ron just blinked tiredly.

"Daph?"

"This isn't what it looks like," Daphne whispered.

"It looks like you found me sleeping, and decided to fondle me," Ron groaned, and then his head dropped back on his pillow.

"Well, it's exactly what it looks like then," Daphne chuckled nervously. Caught red-handed… This is kind of embarrassing. "I'm sorry for waking you."

"It's alright…" Ron sighed out, his gloved hand moving to the back of her head. "What time is it?"

"Around nine 'o'clock," Daphne replied.

"Barely three hours then…" Ron mumbled, his eyes closing again. Pardon?

"You were up all night?" Daphne asked, and Ron merely nodded. Now I feel worse. "Um… Do you want me to leave?"

"No," Ron replied. "Come up here instead." Daphne blinked at him, and then she smiled widely. Woohoo! Daphne quickly moved up, and he adjusted his body to its side so that they were facing each other. He even moved the pillow so she could rest her head on it as well. However, much to Daphne's disappointment, he kept his eyes closed. He's going back to sleep?

"Do you want me to sleep next to you?" Daphne whispered, and Ron gave a slow nod.

"I'm too tired to do anything… Sorry," Ron apologized. Disappointing, but it is what it is. This is still pretty great. Daphne scooted closer to him, and he placed his left arm over her side. Their faces were inches apart, so Daphne placed her forehead against his. I was up quite late last night with the girls, so a nap wouldn't be so bad. Just ten minutes.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Sunday 22nd November, 1993 (Common Room – Nearly Midday)

The bright light of a camera flash woke him up, and he immediately heard Tracey curse herself. What the fuck? Ron opened his eyes, only to realize that he was basically attached to Daphne.

"Tracey?" Daphne groaned. "Is… Is that a camera?"

"Um… No," came Tracey's voice, and Ron suddenly felt his girlfriend shoot up. Ugh… These people… Ron sat up groggily, while Daphne fired out of the bed.

"You two!" Daphne snapped. "Give me that!"

"It's just a picture," Pansy jumped between Tracey and Daphne.

"This is not funny," Daphne fumed, her long blonde hair suffering from a severe case of bedhead. "Give it here right now!" Ron watched the three girls through blurry vision, a dull expression on his face.

"It's a really cute picture, Daphne," Tracey grinned, while Daphne grit her teeth. "Shame that you can't see Ron's face though."

"It was too busy snuggling into her neck," Pansy laughed. "We figured that Ron had killed you, but here you two are, sleeping in each other's embrace." They figured that I had killed her? Why would I do that? Ron cleared his agitated eyes with his palms, what was the time?

"What time is it?" Ron croaked, his throat incredibly dry.

"Around midday," Tracey replied, while Pansy kept Daphne at bay. "It's time to wake up, sleepyheads."

"Yeah, yeah…" Ron waved a dismissive hand, and then he yawned long and hard. As he began to move out of the bed, Ron remembered the past day's events. Snape… Ron immediately felt the strength leave his bones, while his mind drifted to the state of his friend. They took his hand, his eye, and he might never walk properly again. Righteous wrath stirred in his chest, but he was too spent to give it life. Instead, he just sat there and watched the girls fight over Tracey's camera.

"Ron! Tell her to give me her-" Daphne started, but she stopped when she saw his face. "Look at what you did, Tracey. He was asleep, and now look at him."

"He does look rather… ghastly," Pansy grimaced, and Ron rolled his bloodshot eyes.

"Thanks," Ron said in a bored manner. "Can you three fight somewhere else?"

"We're not fighting," Tracey denied. "This is just how we talk to each other."

"That's fucking healthy…" Ron drawled, and then he massaged his face. I'm up, so I might as well do something productive. Ron slid out of the bed, his legs feeling slightly wobbly.

"Ron, you look like shite," Tracey pointed out.

"Again… Thanks for the commentary," Ron said as he stretched his back. He then looked to Tracey's camera, which she quickly hid behind her back. "Mind explaining yourself?"

"Well… Daphne mentioned that you were up here, and she left to collect you," Pansy started, and then she looked to Daphne. "We waited for three hours, but she never came back. So Blaise sent us up here to see what was going on."

"And you just happened to have a camera on you?" Daphne questioned.

"No, we went back down to get it," Tracey said a little too proudly.

"You two looked really cute, and we figured that it would make a nice photo," Pansy said. "Trust me, when you see it, you'll love it."

"That photo will not see the light of day," Daphne hissed with narrowed eyes.

"I need a shower," Ron spoke to himself, and after he picked up his wand from the side table, he began making his way towards the exit.

"Hey! Wait up!" Tracey called as the girls caught up to him. "We need to tell you something important."

"What is it?" Ron asked as he reached the door.

"Daphne?" Pansy asked.

"Ron, the Headmaster made a troubling announcement this morning…" Daphne started, her eyes fixed on his.

"Was it about Snape's accident?" Ron asked, and Daphne just stared at him. "I already know." At least people are believing Dumbledore's story.

"How?" Tracey asked. "You weren't even there."

"I found out yesterday," Ron replied. "After I came back from work."

"Is that why you disappeared?" Pansy asked, and Ron simply turned around and opened the door.

"How did the school take it?" Ron asked, while Tracey closed the door behind them.

"The Slytherins are quite shocked by it," Pansy replied. "I mean, no one can believe that Professor Snape was careless enough to get caught up in such a terrible accident. But then again, why would the Headmaster lie? No one really knows what to say."

"And the rest of the school?" Ron asked, his every step feeling heavy.

"The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws are… Well, they don't really care much for Professor Snape," Tracey replied. "I saw a few of them looking rather concerned, but the majority were indifferent."

"Let's be realistic here," Daphne said. "Professor Snape has made quite the reputation for himself, so their indifference isn't unwarranted. However, what I do find annoying is that the Gryffindors seemed almost pleased about his injuries." Injuries? Dumbledore told them that much?

"What injuries?" Ron asked quickly.

"Actually, we don't know," Daphne replied. "We just know that he had to be moved to France for treatment."

"We really need St. Mungo's back," Pansy added.

"You said the Gryffindors were pleased?" Ron asked, something shifting behind his eyes.

"Your brothers… The twins, that is," Daphne said slowly. "I saw them laughing and making jokes." Fuckers. Ron grit his teeth, but he didn't say anything.

"They're competing today, by the way," Tracey added. The fifth years are Dueling today… I completely forgot.

"Though we're not watching them," Pansy said.

"Are you lot still training the first and second years?" Daphne asked, and Ron's ears perked up.

"Yeah, and it's going quite well," Pansy replied. "Turns out, they actually missed our lessons. Isn't that adorable?"

"They like the attention," Daphne noted as they entered the Dungeons. "This is good news. I was worried that we'd have to twist their arms a little."

"You lot decided to continue their training?" Ron asked, he rather liked the sound of that.

"It was Theo's idea," Tracey said, she almost sounded prideful. "He mentioned that the Finals are getting closer each day, and that we haven't been doing enough to secure the wins."

"Open," Ron hissed, and the entrance slid aside. The girls exchanged looks, but they didn't say anything. "I'll take a shower, and then join you lot."

"And I'll join you after I clean up a bit," Daphne added.

While Daphne went towards the girls' dorms, and Tracey and Pansy went towards the Training Area, Ron made his way to his room. I'll take a shower, help out with the training, and then prepare for my meeting with Fudge. I need him to accept my help, and to offer me the position that I want. It's past time that I made my way into the Ministry. Ron entered his room and shut the door, and immediately after, he spotted Malfoy sitting on his bed.

"I heard about Professor Snape," Ron said, and Malfoy spared him a quick look. He's holding together quite well, but then again, he doesn't know about the injuries yet. "I'm really sorry."

"Godfather would never make a mistake like that," Malfoy said almost angrily. "The old man is lying to everyone. There is a good reason why Godfather has no rival in the Art of Potion Making." Shite, it makes sense that he wouldn't buy the lie.

"What else could it be?" Ron asked.

"I don't know…" Malfoy looked back to his book. I guess that's the end of our conversation. I'll need to warn Dumbledore about him. The last thing we need is him snooping around for the truth. At least not yet.

---

Sunday 22nd November, 1993 (Common Room – Afternoon)

While the first and second years finished up their sandwiches, Ron was approached by Daphne on the steps.

"Mind if I sit next to you?" Daphne asked, but he knew that she already planned to.

"Please do," Ron replied, and Daphne sat down to his left.

"I noticed that you're just hanging back, while Blaise and Millie have taken over the training," Daphne said.

"I honestly can't be bothered," Ron admitted. "My presence is enough, I think."

"According to Theo, it's more than enough," Daphne said. "Apparently, before you showed up, they were all quite laidback."

"Which is why I'm still hovering around," Ron told her.

"Ron, are you sure that you're alright?" Daphne asked. "You're very quiet today."

"I'm just worried about Professor Snape," Ron replied, which was actually true. No matter how hard he tried to put it out of his mind, he kept thinking about the horrors inflicted upon his friend and mentor. Lucius Malfoy hurts the people I care about once again. I don't care when it happens, but he will die for his crimes.

"Me too," Daphne said. "I mean, we're not close or anything, but he's sort of like our Guardian here."

"He is, isn't he?" Ron smiled a little.

"A really mean, cold Guardian," Daphne said, and Ron lost his smile. "But still… I just hope that he's alright." He's not.

"Is there anything you need?" Ron asked, he didn't want to talk about Snape.

"I was just wondering if you were planning to teach them yourself," Daphne said. "Ron, some of them really want you to, but they're afraid to ask."

"I'm that intimidating, am I?" Ron said, not a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Your temper is well known, and right now, you look extremely uninviting," Daphne replied.

"Blaise and Millie are doing just fine, though your sister needs to stop interrupting them," Ron shot a look towards Tori.

"I'll let her know," Daphne sighed. "I swear, she just ignores my advice at this point. And yet somehow, she's able to keep her reputation."

"She's funny, and extremely friendly," Ron shrugged. "People tend to enjoy the company of individuals like her. Plus, her father is the richest man in Magical Britain." And he's also severely injured. Ron drew in a deep breath, maybe he needed a Calming Draught. No, that'll just make me cold. I need Fudge to like me, not throw me into Azkaban.

"Her antics will catch up to her, I promise," Daphne said. "Well… Since you're not keen on teaching the first and second years, why don't you show me that trick with shields?" What trick? Ron gave her a confused look, and she figured that he had forgotten about his promise. "You remember the promise you made me, right? You said that you'd teach me a method of taking down Granger's unbreakable shield." I did promise her that, and then I forgot.

"Shite, Daph… I'm really sorry," Ron grimaced. "I completely forgot about that."

"It's alright, you've been really busy," Daphne said, but Ron felt a strong pang of guilt. I shouldn't make promises, and then just forget about them.

"Let's go find a secluded spot," Ron stood up, and Daphne followed suit. They made their way to a corner, and once they were there, Ron and Daphne brandished their wands.

"This is exciting," Daphne smirked.

"Take a few steps back, and I'll show you the trick," Ron said, and Daphne did as she was told.

"This won't hurt, will it?" Daphne asked.

"Only if I do it wrong," Ron shrugged, and she gave him a deadpan look. "Right, put up a shield please."

"Protego!" Daphne chanted, and Ron noticed some eyes traveling towards them.

"Stupefy! Stupefy! Finite Incantatem! Expelliarmus!" Ron chanted back to back, making sure to be as precise, and quick, as he could be. Daphne's shield blocked the stunners, but the Anti-Magic Spell shattered her shield right before the Disarming Charm knocked her wand out of her hand.

"Woah! Did you see that?!" came Sebastian's voice, but Ron chose to ignore them. Instead, he picked up Daphne's wand and approached her.

"See? Quite simple, but effective," Ron smiled at her, making sure to have his back facing the others.

"Finite Incantatem, eh?" Daphne smirked as she took her wand back. Did she just say 'eh'? Weird, she doesn't usually talk like that. I talk like that. "We learnt it back in first year, and to be perfectly honest, I thought it was a useless Spell."

"I thought so too, but then Madam Roberts proved me wrong," Ron said. "I recommend that you bombard Hermione's shield with a few well-placed stunners, and when she's about to do that Non-verbal Disarming Charm of hers, you move aside and cast Finite Incantatem. Her shield will break, and she'll be in the middle of concentrating on her Non-verbal Spell. That's when you attack."

"And I'll be able to stun her in the face," Daphne hummed, making Ron cock an eyebrow. "Why stunners though?"

"The wand movement for a stunner is really simple," Ron replied. "It's about saving yourself time in-between Spells. If you cast complicated Spells, it'll give her time to put you on the defensive. Trust me, you don't want that. So use stunners as a way to get her shield up, and right after you cast the Anti-Magic Spell, twirl your wand and fire a Disarming Charm. Again, it's the fastest option because the wand movements Chain together."

"Chain?" Daphne asked.

"Um… They flow into each other really well," Ron explained. "You go from flicking your wand up to pointing it, and then you twirl it right after. Say the incantation at the right times, and you'll get her." Daphne nodded slowly, she honestly didn't think like that in Duels.

"Neat trick, Ron," Daphne said. "Now… Do you mind teaching me a trick against you?" Wow.

"Just pull your top up mid-Duel, and I'll go slack-jawed on the spot," Ron replied, and Daphne smacked his arm.

"Damn pervert," Daphne scolded, though her lips formed a rather cute smile. Ron leaned forward and kissed her, completely ignoring the first and second years' stares.

"I'm sorry for forgetting," Ron whispered, and Daphne just patted his cheek. "You should practice that against a dummy first, just to get the timing right. After that, you can try it on me."

"Thanks," Daphne said. "I'm actually really glad that this trick is so simple. I've got three weeks to master it."

"Three weeks?" Ron asked.

"Tracey heard that the Professors plan to have all the Finals on the thirteenth of December," Daphne replied.

"And where did she hear this?" Ron asked.

"I have no idea," Daphne replied. "Some Professor probably slipped up to a student, who then told others, until eventually, Tracey overheard someone talking about it." This school and its rumors. "I'm going to go find myself a dummy to practice on."

"Alright," Ron nodded. "Just find me if you need help."

"Will do," Daphne smirked, and then she left towards the others. Ron decided to return to the steps, mostly because he could keep his eyes on everyone from there.

"Break time is over," Ron said as he passed by the younger students. "C'mon, get back to work."

"Will you be teaching us?" Lysandra asked quickly, and Ron stopped walking.

"That trick was really neat, but we have no idea which Spells you were casting," Mathew said, while the others packed up their things. Ron looked towards his friends, all of whom waited for his decision. I really don't have it in me to tutor so many people right now.

"I will train you next time," Ron told them. "For now, I want you all to practice on your aiming skills. Most of you miss the simplest of Spells, and that can't happen during the Tournament Finals. Blaise and Theo will help you with that, while Millie and Tracey will teach you how to dodge effectively. No more jumping, understand?"

"We understand," Hestia said.

"And we'll remember your promise," Flora added.

"And I'll be watching," Ron told them all, his eyes scanning each person's face. "Now go on."

The younger years rejoined his friends to continue their training, while Ron walked over to the steps and sat down. As he fixed his sight of Astoria, who was looking more spent than her friends, Pansy approached him and sat down.

"Is there a reason why you're not helping them?" Pansy asked. "Most of them are only here because you're here, Ron."

"I'm not really in the mood, Pans," Ron shrugged. "I didn't sleep well last night, and I've got this meeting with Fudge coming up. I'm not in the right mental state to be teaching them." Ron then looked to her. "Is there a reason why you're sitting here and not helping?"

"I'm not a Duelist," Pansy mimicked his shrug. "They know that, so they don't take me very seriously. Plus, I just did my nails this morning, and I don't want to get them dirty." Nails? Really?

"Right," Ron said, and then he heard the common room entrance open. Loud chatter emanated from within the common room, and Ron figured that the Dueling Club was finished for the day.

"By the way, Carey Ductu mentioned that you should find her," Pansy said.

"Pardon?" Ron blinked at her.

"She wanted to speak with you," Pansy replied.

"Why didn't you mention this before?" Ron asked.

"I forgot," Pansy smirked. "Seeing you and Daphne cuddled up distracted me."

"Pans…" Ron sighed out, and then he stood up. "I'll see you later."

"Bye," Pansy waved him off, and Ron left for the common room. He managed only a few steps inside before Clara spotted him from near the entrance. No Carey and Samantha though. Clara waved him over, and Ron quickly made his way over to her.

"Clara," Ron greeted, while she gave him a bright smile. "I heard that Carey wanted to speak with me."

"We're having a meeting with the older delegates right now," Clara told him. "Come on, I came here to fetch you." With that, she began to leave the common room. Ron followed after her, he was quite pleased with the fact that they had gone out of their way to include him. The Triumvirate know better than to disregard me now. Good.

"What's this meeting about?" Ron asked. "Also, how did the fifth years do?"

"The meeting is about coming up with a strategy to optimize our House Point intake," Clara started. "And the fifth years…" She let out an exaggerated sigh. "Only one fifth year made it into the Quarter Finals."

"What?" Ron went wide-eyed. "What the fuck?"

"Martha Hopkirk is the only Slytherin who made the cut," Clara told him. "The rest tried their best, but they were beaten out by better students. As shocking as this is, Hufflepuff dominated today."

"Hufflepuff?" Ron frowned. I don't give a shite about their best, they fucking failed the House.

"Cedric Diggory and his friends," Clara clarified. "Your brother Fred lost to Diggory, while your brother George got disqualified for using his own variation of the Explosive Curse. He figured that he'd get away with it because he technically didn't break any rules, but Professor Lupin was in no mood for games today." Of course he wasn't, he fought in a battle last night.

"We only managed one…" Ron drew in a deep breath.

"Have you heard about Snape?" Clara asked, and Ron gave her a nod. "Everything that could go wrong is going wrong." As they neared the meeting room, which was an abandoned classroom, Clara stopped him. "Try not to yell at the fifth year delegates, alright? Not only are they sore from their losses, but they still don't like the fact that you're above them in the Hierarchy."

"I'll be epitome of kindness and understanding," Ron rolled his eyes, and then he entered the room.

"Good, you found him," Carey smiled at the sight of him, and he gave her a nod before taking his seat on the opposite end of the joined tables.

"Now that everyone is here, let's get started," Samantha said, while Clara took her seat by Carey's left. "The first order of business is Professor Snape's absence. With him gone, our House Points will take a hit."

"It's no secret that Professor Snape grants Slytherin quite a few House Points, while also making sure to deduct Points from the other Houses," Carey said. "Each Head of House, except Professor Sprout, openly favor their own House. With Professor Snape gone, we'll be earning Points at a declined rate."

"As it is, the first and second years are being given less Points due to Slytherin's massive lead," Clara said. "The Professors have figured out how Slytherin got so far ahead so quickly, so they're being careful in handing us House Points."

"Which is utterly unfair," Maria Cortez scoffed. "They're punishing us for taking the lead…"

"It is what it is," Ron said, and Maria frowned at him. "The Professors want a competition, not a massacre. If the other Houses feel dejected by Slytherin's massive lead, they won't work as hard in their classes. What we need to figure out is a new method of earning House Points. My first years have gotten us the lead, but they can no longer bring in vast amounts of Points."

"And with Snape gone, we're in deep shite," Atif added, and Ron gave him a nod. He's still honoring our deal and keeping the peace. I'll be sure to throw him a bone soon.

"What about the Quidditch Team?" Jack Hughes asked the Triumvirate.

"A lost cause," Carey replied. "They lost to Gryffindor in almost record time, and I doubt they'll beat Diggory and Ravenclaw's new Seeker."

"Who is Ravenclaw's new Seeker?" Septimus asked.

"Cho Chang," Arthur Belmont replied. "Her friend, Marietta Edgecombe, told me. It's being kept secret for now, they plan to surprise Hufflepuff next Saturday. Apparently, she's quite good on her broom."

"Ravenclaw is the only House still in our league this year," Clara said. "Let's get the word out and ruin their surprise. Hufflepuff is at the bottom of the ladder, so their victory will do little to damage our own standing."

"I'll get on it," Arthur gave her a nod.

"I thought Gryffindor was the lowest House," Martha said.

"Check the Hourglasses," Ron said. "Their Quidditch winnings, plus some shady Points from McGonagall and the other Professors, have moved them back to third place."

"Fucking favoritism," Jack frowned deeply. "Why does the Headmaster keep handing them freebies?"

"Now you see our dilemma," Carey said smoothly. "With Professor Snape gone, we have lost the only Professor who favors us. I predict that by the end of this term, we'll only have made around one hundred Points outside of the Finals. And I'm being extremely generous here." Fuck me.

"The other Houses have a great chance at catching up to us now," Samantha said. "Winning the Dueling Tournaments is now vital to ensure our victory this year."

"Nice going, fifth years," Maria frowned at the fifth year delegates.

"None of that," Clara shut her down. "Concentrate on your own year-mates, Maria. Let us worry about the fifth years."

"Are the rumors true?" Ron asked. "Are all the Finals for the year-based Tournaments happening on the thirteenth of December?"

"What?" Atif gaped at Ron, while the others looked to the Triumvirate.

"It's true," Carey said, her eyes fixed on Ron. "I spoke with Professor Snape, and he told me as much. The Professors are even planning to make an event out of it. They're thinking of inviting parents, and using the Quidditch Pitch as the staging ground."

"We only have three weeks?" Martha rubbed her forehead.

"Each of you need to get your year-mates into the Training Area," Samantha ordered. "Why is it that I've only seen Ron and his charges training down there? What are the rest of you doing?"

"If I recall correctly, it was the job of the A-ranks to train the C-ranks," Jack replied. "You're in A-rank, aren't you, Samantha?" Isn't he also in Rank A?

"Weasley is doing his part with the D-ranks, so why aren't you?" Maria looked to Samantha. Again, she's in Rank A as well? They're just blaming Samantha for their own lack of action.

"We thought we had more time, but now that we know the situation, plans have been made to address the issue," Carey said. "The C-ranks will be training with the A-ranks over the next three weeks, while Clara and I work with the B-ranks."

"And before you pass on the blame, Jack," Clara started. "Just remember that you're in A-rank as well, and I haven't seen you lifting a finger." Ron rubbed his forehead, why was he surrounded by lazy incompetents?

"Hughes, Cortez, and Atif…" Ron said, his features turning cold. "You're all A-ranks as well, right?" They all gave a nod. "Were you waiting for Samantha to take the initiative, or were you three just too lazy to do anything yourselves? Stop blaming the person who is running the House, and take up the initiative yourselves."

"What's done is done," Carey sighed. "Fighting amongst ourselves won't achieve anything. I need you delegates to go around Slytherin, and bring me the class schedules of every student. We need to set compulsory training dates as soon as possible." Don't give them time to fuck around.

"Get it done by tonight," Ron ordered, his eyes scanning each delegate member. "Carey, you can borrow my friends to help you three. I mean, going through that many schedules will take time, so share the burden with them."

"Thank you, Ron," Carey gave him a nod. "Now, the next order of business. We need to optimize our House Point intake. Dueling Tournaments not counting, we are in dire need of a new strategy. The first years have run into a wall with the Professors, which means that their quotas will need to be lowered."

"We will also need to limit how many Points we lose from now on," Samantha added. "If we keep losing Points at our current rate, we'll lose more Points in the next month than we'll gain."

"Why do we lose so many House Points?" Ron asked, though he already knew the answer. Idiotic behavior like bullying, and not turning in homework on time.

"Right now, the fourth years lose the most amount of Points," Clara said. "We need to have a chat with them before they become worse than the second years were."

"We can do that," Atif volunteered. "Most of them are suffering from end of term fatigue, so giving them an incentive to do better will bring them around."

"Which reminds me," Hughes piped in. "What's happening with the party? I don't think that we should have it tonight, especially after what we just learned about Professor Snape. It'll be in poor taste. Instead, I recommend that we wait until the last Saturday before the Christmas Break."

"That could be our incentive," Martha said. "We can announce that if we meet a certain objective, then we can have this party."

"All in favor?" Carey asked, and everyone nodded. "Very well, that's what we'll do then. However, unfortunately, the food and alcohol were delivered this morning."

"The Elves were kind enough to store and preserve the food for us," Clara told them. "But we can't expect them to hide the alcohol as well. Elves, as we all know, can become addicted to alcohol." They can? "Plus, we can't have the other Professors find out that we're allowing minors to drink."

"We need a place to stash the alcohol where it won't be found," Carey said. "Any suggestions?" The Chamber of Secrets.

"I can take care of that," Ron volunteered.

"And where will you hide it?" Samantha asked.

"In a secret room that only I know about," Ron replied, and everyone gave him curious looks. "Trust me, it will never be found."

"Alright," Clara smiled at him. "We will place Preserving Charms on it to keep it fresh and cool, and you can take the three barrels from our room." Three barrels?! Are they trying to get all of Hogwarts drunk?

"How is he going to smuggle barrels of alcohol without being seen?" Arthur asked.

"Ron broke into Gryffindor Tower in the middle of the night, and no one even knows about it," Carey told them, and they all looked quite taken aback. "He can take care of it."

"You broke into Gryffindor Tower?" Cortez asked him, and Ron gave her a nod. "How?"

"Magic," Ron replied, and both Carey and Clara's lips twitched upwards. "Is there anything else that we need to discuss?"

"No, I think that's everything," Samantha said. "Everyone has jobs to do, so get to it. We need to put in our best over the next month, otherwise we'll damage our lead."

---

Sunday 22nd November, 1993 (Seventh Floor – Nearly Evening)

The Triumvirate had made their announcement, and then sworn everyone to secrecy over the rumors being true. The plan was to train everyone over the next three weeks, while the other Houses waited for confirmation from their own Heads of Houses. Despite the fifth years standing no chance of winning their year-based Tournament, Ron felt confident in the rest of the House.

"Ice Mice," Ron said to the Stone Gargoyle, and it slid aside for him. Ron made his way up the spiral staircase, and he knocked on the Headmaster's door.

"Come in," came Dumbledore's voice, and Ron made his way inside.

"Ron?" Remus looked back from his chair, while Ron closed the door. Remus? What's he doing here?

"Hello, Remus," Ron greeted, and then he stepped further into the Office.

"You look… sharp," Remus eyed Ron's tailored black suit.

"This is my best suit," Ron gave him a half-smile, and then he looked to the Headmaster. "I'm heading off for my evening plans, Headmaster."

"Evening plans?" Remus asked before Dumbledore could say anything. "Are you heading into Diagon Alley?"

"Um… Yes," Ron replied, and Remus looked to the Headmaster.

"He's going alone?" Remus asked, and Dumbledore gave a simple nod. "Headmaster… It's not safe. He needs supervision." Fuck, not this again.

"Ronald is only going to the Leaky Cauldron," Dumbledore told Remus. Plus, I'll be with the Minister.

"I'll be having tea with someone," Ron added. "I really don't need a Professor hovering over my shoulder." Should I tell him that I'm meeting with Minister Fudge? No, he'll tell my parents, and they'll just bother me with their shite. I'd rather get this done as efficiently, and as quickly, as possible.

"Headmaster, the streets are not safe," Remus said with a meaningful look, and Ron shared a quick glance with Dumbledore. I'm not supposed to know about Order business. This is… inconvenient. "I have nothing going on right now, so I'll accompany him." Ugh.

"Very well, Remus," Dumbledore said, and Ron shot the old man a frown. Dumbledore ignored it, while Remus got out of his chair. "Ronald, you are to do as Professor Lupin says."

"I understand," Ron fixed his features before Remus turned around. "Shall we head off, Professor?" Remus gave a slow nod, and then he looked between Ron and Dumbledore. Ron made his way over to the fireplace, and he took a pinch of floo powder. "The Leaky Cauldron." With that, Ron cast the powder into the flames. They roared to life, and Ron stepped through them and into the Leaky Cauldron.

"Mr. Weasley," a tough-looking wizard greeted, the man was literally standing in front of the fireplace. Ron eyed the man's short and wiry grey hair, while Remus entered the Leaky Cauldron from the fireplace behind Ron.

"Have we met before?" Ron asked the wizard.

"No," the man replied curtly. "My name is John Dawlish, I'm to escort you to the Minister."

"The Minister?" came Remus' voice, but Ron chose to ignore him for now.

"Can I see some proof of identity?" Ron asked 'John Dawlish', who quickly showed Ron his Auror's Badge. You can never be too careful, Ron. "Right… Please, lead the way."

Dawlish gave Ron a nod, and then he began heading for the stairs. Ron and Remus followed after him, and Ron could sense Remus creeping ever closer to his side.

"The Minister, Ron?" Remus whispered, and Ron gave a nod. "You're meeting with Minister Fudge?"

"Yes, Remus," Ron looked to the man, only to see a look of complete bewilderment. John Dawlish sped up a little, he was clearly giving them their privacy.

"I… Wait… What?" Remus blinked. "Why?"

"I'm making new friends," Ron smirked a little.

"Friends? With the Minister?" Remus asked. "What are you up to, Ron?"

"Slytherin stuff," Ron said as they made their way towards the upper floors.

"Ron, be serious here," Remus whispered. "Why is the Minister meeting with you? Is this about The Quibbler?"

"Maybe," Ron shrugged, he had no intention of revealing a thing. I didn't tell even Lord Greengrass about this, so why would I tell Remus? Plus, Remus will run straight to my parents, and I don't need that headache. "Remus, this meeting is meant to be a secret. No one can know about it, understand?"

"A secret meeting with the Minister…" Remus muttered under his breath, this was unbelievable. Wasn't Fudge supposed to be 'extremely busy'? Why was he meeting with Ron, a child, in the first place?

"The Minister is waiting inside," Dawlish gestured to a black door. "I'll be standing right outside, so don't try anything foolish."

"Professor, would you mind waiting with Mr. Dawlish?" Ron asked, though it didn't come out as a question. Remus simply gave a slow nod, his puzzled eyes fixed on Ron's. Ron walked up and knocked on the door, it was time to focus on his mission.

"Come in," came Fudge's voice, and Ron entered the room with a bright smile. "Ah, Mr. Weasley. We meet at last." Ron closed the door behind himself, his smile aimed at the portly little man with the grey rumpled hair.

"Minister Fudge, it's an honor to meet you," Ron walked into the room, and then he shook the Minister's hand firmly.

"An honor?" Fudge laughed, he had to lean back a little to look at Ron's face. "My word… Do all you Weasleys grow so tall? I remember the first time I met your father, I had to ask him to lean down a little!" Fudge laughed at his own joke, while Ron just smiled more widely. "Come, come… Take a seat, Mr. Weasley."

"Thank you, Minister," Ron said as they both sat down from across each other. "And please, just call me Ronald."

"Pea soup, Ronald?" Fudge offered, and Ron looked to the steaming hot dish of soup on the coffee table. "Tom's soup is a guilty pleasure of mine, he makes it fresh just for me."

"Thank you, I would love some," Ron accepted Fudge's polite offer. Fudge flicked his wand, and the ladle began to pour soup into two clean bowls. "I've eaten here before, and quite honestly, Tom's a great cook. Does he make all of his meals?"

"He does indeed," Fudge said as he handed Ron his bowl, and then he had some from his own. "Ah, perfect." Ron tasted the soup, and he had to admit, it was pretty good. But no meat, which is a shame. "Let's have a chat before we get down to business, Ronald. The truth is, I'm very interested in the tales that I've heard about you."

"Tales?" Ron asked, though he knew which tales Fudge was referring to.

"Resisting Fifty Veelas, buying The Quibbler out from under Barnabas Cuffe, slaying a Mountain Troll and saving Harry Potter's life in the process," Fudge listed, a hint of excitement on his face. The Quibbler? Why would he list that as an accomplishment?

"Did Mr. Cuffe tell you about The Quibbler?" Ron smiled.

"He did!" Fudge laughed once again. "He is an old friend of mine, and he rushed into my Office demanding that you be forced to hand over The Quibbler to him. He was in a right state, he was. But I told him no! After all, you broke no laws whatsoever. Barnabas was simply outmaneuvered by a clever young man who kept himself hidden until the right moment." Fucking Cuffe… He threw a tantrum to the Minister himself, and he expects me to believe his story?

"I'm sorry that I bothered your friend so much," Ron chuckled, and he mentally noted that Cuffe and Fudge were 'old friends'. They probably scratch each other's' backs often.

"Oh, forget him," Fudge said humorously. "He has always been a sore loser, and you certainly hit him where it hurt. Though I must say, I did not believe him when he first came to me. After all, what would a young man such as yourself need a magazine for?"

"I've always loved stories," Ron replied, and Fudge laughed once again. He is certainly … excitable. "The Quibbler is my ticket into the big leagues, Minister. I won't refute that."

"I figured as much," Fudge said. "The name 'Ronald Weasley' comes across my desk quite often now. The things I hear beggar belief, but I do enjoy hearing them. Oh! Could you sign this before you leave?" Fudge suddenly produced a Chess Weekly cutout from his robes, and Ron made sure to keep his composure. "It's for my secretary, you see… She only graduated from Hogwarts last year, and she's an avid fan of yours. I swear that she sneaks your brochures into my Office."

"Do you have a quill?" Ron asked. "I can sign it right now so that I don't forget."

"Certainly," Fudge smiled, and then with a flick of his wand, he summoned a quill and an inkpot. Ron took the cutout, and he signed his name on the blank white space under his exclusive picture. "Her name is Rebecca, by the way. Did you know her? She was in Hufflepuff, I think."

"I can't say that I did," Ron replied as he wrote down 'to Rebecca'. "Here you are, Minister."

"Thank you," Fudge took the cutout. "You can never keep your staff happy enough, Ronald." Staff? Or your secretary? It's obvious that she handed him the cutout personally, otherwise, this weird cunt carries around a picture of me wherever he goes.

"Do you have anything else for me to sign?" Ron smiled. "Perhaps a contract?"

"I see that you are keen to get started," Fudge said. "I was hoping to pick your brain a little more before we started discussing business."

"We'll have other opportunities, Minister," Ron said. "After all, neither of us are going anywhere. Not to mention that I have to be back at Hogwarts before dinner." I don't have to, but I want to. I think they're serving Shepard's Pie tonight.

"Very well, I won't keep you out of school longer than necessary," Fudge smiled, and then he set his bowl of soup down. Ron followed suit, while Fudge pulled out a long piece of parchment from his other pocket. Is that my contract?

"You have deep pockets, Minister," Ron joked, earning a chuckle from the older wizard.

"I have my suits lined with Expansion Charms," Fudge told him. "As Minister, I often have important documents on my person." Is that so? That's useful information, and I need to remember it. "Madam Bones was quite impressed with your work, as was I. Tell me, how did you convince the French Families to help you? They generally want nothing to do with Britain, or its problems."

"I convinced Madame Maxime, and she convinced the Families," Ron replied, he saw no need to lie. Plus, she deserves the credit for this. "She is quite loved in France, and the Older Families respect her greatly."

"And she is your friend," Fudge nodded slowly. "Well, on behalf of the British Ministry, I thank you. This Gala is shaping up to be an International sensation, and its success will benefit us all tremendously. But… I cannot give you what you want." Fuck. "Not exactly, that is."

"And why is that?" Ron asked, making sure to sound civil.

"I cannot justify making a thirteen year old into an International Diplomat, the public wouldn't understand," Fudge said apologetically. "Despite said thirteen year old's accomplishments." Once again the Universe rams its cock in my arse. "However, I have personally thought of a solution. Here, please read this." Ron took the piece of parchment, his eyes scanning the document.

"Special Diplomatic Consultant," Ron read, and then he looked to Fudge. It sounds respectable, at least.

"It's a new position, one that will have the same pay and benefits as the Officials working within the Department of International Magical Cooperation," Fudge said rather proudly. "You will serve as a 'consultant' in the negotiations with the French, while Madame Maxime will represent her own country as a Diplomat."

"So I'm to have a boss?" Ron asked, this wasn't good enough.

"Not at all," Fudge replied, much to Ron's confusion. "Ronald, you will get what you asked for, while we use your new title to justify your role within the Ministry. No sane adult will understand why a thirteen year old is being given such an important role, but with this position, we can you justify your new role within the Ministry. You will act as an International Diplomat, and we will skirt any bad press along the way." I see.

"The only thing that I'm not getting is the status of an International Diplomat," Ron summarized, and Fudge nodded.

"You will be paid a salary of three hundred Galleons a year, which is less than the average adult, but it's fair considering that you will only be helping with the French," Fudge explained. "You will also be granted the same privileges and benefits that come from being an International Diplomat."

"Could you please elaborate on these benefits?" Ron asked.

"Of course," Fudge said. "Let's say that you want a Portkey… Now normally, you'd be put on a waiting list, but since you work for the Department of International Magical Cooperation, you'll be given your Portkey on the spot. If you want information on someone, we have entire records at your disposal. If you want to holiday overseas, the Ministry will pay for your trip. You will also be given access to the Ministry's resources should you need to put together an International Gala." Bloody hell, this all sounds rather useful.

"You're making me an International Diplomat without giving me the title," Ron said. "Instead, I'll be a Special Diplomatic Consultant. I have to admit, you are beginning to convince me."

"Beginning?" Fudge asked, he had been certain that the boy would be pleased.

"Yes, beginning," Ron adorned a more serious expression. "You see, it's the title that I wanted. I wanted the World to know of my new position, and how I had managed to procure it."

"I understand that," Fudge said. "You want your efforts to be recognized."

"I do," Ron replied. "I took the initiative, did the work, and now I'm not being given what I deserve. Tell me, which other Diplomat is bringing aid to our country?"

"There are a few-"

"There are none," Ron said firmly, and Fudge blinked at Ron's changed demeanor. "We're the ones who are helping someone else's country, so no Diplomat is focusing on Britain. Now I, a 'thirteen year old', am bringing thousands of Galleons into your depleted coffers, whilst also strengthening the bond between the French and the British. A bond which has yet to recover from the Great War." Ron then drew in a deep breath, he needed to remain calm.

"Minister Fudge, how would you feel if the Albanian Minister refused to properly acknowledge your contributions?" Ron asked.

"I would say that that's his prerogative," Fudge lied.

"There are no cameras in here, just us," Ron's eyes dug into Fudge's. "I'm being honest with you, so please pay me the same respect."

"I would not be pleased," Fudge admitted, making sure to keep eye contact.

"I want what I asked for, not this made up position that no one will respect," Ron handed the contract back.

"The public will have my hide, Mr. Weasley," Fudge sighed. "How do I explain hiring you as an International Diplomat without you having any prior experience in the field?"

"We tell them the truth," Ron replied. "I own a magazine, Minister. And right now, we're in the middle of sending brochures and adverts everywhere. I can easily print the whole story on these brochures, which will find their way into people's homes. I already have quite the reputation all over Europe, and this will only spread it further. Now… You can either be known as the man who gave into non-existent peer pressure. Or, you can be known as the Minister who rewards hard work no matter a person's background. Which one do you want?" Ron then stood up.

"You have until Tuesday to write up a new contract for me," Ron fixed his suit. "I know that you need my help, and I want to give it to you… But not for free. Just like you, I want my efforts to be recognized."

"I will be leaving for Albania tomorrow, and I won't be back until Friday night," Fudge told him.

"Then have Madam Bones take over," Ron suggested. "She and I know each other, and if she has your permission, she can make this happen. Just think of our mutual success, Minister Fudge. We could save this country from economic collapse if this Gala accomplishes its goals. Plus, the people need some good news. Otherwise, they'll start rioting in the streets."

Fudge stared up at Ron for a few moments, and then he let out a long breath.

"Go to her Office on Tuesday after your classes end," Fudge conceded, and Ron held back his grin. "She will have a contract ready for you."

"I'll also take the same salary and benefits that you were willing to offer," Ron said. "Thank you for your time, Minister. I will see you at the Gala."

"Indeed you shall, young man," Fudge stood up, and after they shook hands, Ron exited the room with a victorious smile. The moment I brought up mutual success, he changed his mind. In the end, everyone just wants to further themselves.

"Goodnight, Mr. Dawlish," Ron said as he closed the door behind him, and the Auror gave him a curt nod. "Professor, let's get going." With that, Ron began to make his way back down to the fireplace. Remus quickly caught up to him, his brow furrowed.

"You're not going to explain this meeting to me?" Remus asked, his voice slightly stern.

"Pardon?" Ron shot a quick look back. Since when do I answer to you?

"Ron, you just met with the Minister for Magic, and you are acting like it's not a big deal," Remus said.

"Because to me, it isn't," Ron told him. "Remus, I'm friends with powerful people, and I've gotten used to meeting people like Fudge. Trust me, they're nothing special."

"Do your parents know about this meeting?" Remus asked. And there it is.

"No, they don't," Ron replied. "And you're not going to tell them either."

"Ron…" Remus sighed. "Why are you pushing them away like this?"

"I'm pushing them away?" Ron frowned, why did people always blame him? "Have you seriously forgotten all the shite they've pulled over the last two years?"

"No," Remus said tiredly. "But Ron, they're your parents-"

"Spare me your emotional tripe, I have no use for it," Ron said harshly, much to Remus' shock. "You are a Professor of Hogwarts right now, and not my parents' spy. If you tell them about my personal affairs, there will be consequences." Remus looked utterly jarred, and he stopped walking immediately. Ron shot another look back, but he decided not to stop. He can catch up when he wants.

Ron flooed back to the Headmaster's Office alone, an annoyed look on his face. Dumbledore looked at him from behind his clawed desk, and when he didn't see Remus, his eyes became fixed on Ron.

"Will I be needing a new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Ronald?" Dumbledore asked, while Ron walked up and took a seat.

"No, he'll be here soon enough," Ron replied, his expression softening. Was I too harsh? Fuck me, I need to get my shite together. "Pull out your chessboard, Headmaster. I need to talk to you about something."

"Very well," Dumbledore said, and then he reached into his desk and produced a chessboard. Ron began placing the pieces on the board, and he heard the fireplace roar to life from behind him. "Remus, all is well?"

"Yes, Headmaster," Remus replied, his eyes lingering on Ron's back. "I will be in my Office should you need me." With that, Remus left the Office quietly.

"Ronald, what happened?" Dumbledore asked once Remus was truly gone.

"I might have been a little… cruel," Ron sighed out, the pieces falling out of his hands. Dumbledore watched quietly as Ron leaned back in his chair, his red hair falling over his face.

"Severus is on your mind," Dumbledore stated, his voice sagely.

"Constantly," Ron admitted. "I just want to see him for myself, that's all."

"He has not woken up yet," Dumbledore told him. "When he does, Fawkes will return to me immediately."

"I'll still have to wait though, right?" Ron asked.

"Yes," Dumbledore replied, his features softening. "Be patient, dear boy. Severus will return to us in time, and once he does, we'll be there for him." Dumbledore then leaned back in his own chair. "What else troubles you?"

"Draco Malfoy knows that you were lying," Ron replied, and Dumbledore didn't even looked surprised. "None of the Slytherins really believe you. We all know just how skilled Professor Snape is, and getting caught in an accident is far too unlike him."

"And yet, they'll have to settle for my words," Dumbledore said, and Ron gave a slow nod. "As for Draco Malfoy…" Dumbledore pulled out a letter from his robes. "He was trying to send this to his father."

"You stole his mail?" Ron blinked.

"I used the Confundus Charm on his Owl," Dumbledore replied. "A terrible breach of privacy, I know, but we must be vigilant in these times. Do you wish to read it?" Not really.

"Just give me a summary," Ron said, his eyes lingering on the letter.

"He does not believe me, as you said, and he wishes to visit Severus in France," Dumbledore started. "He has also included a small report about you in this letter."

"What?" Ron frowned deeply. I'm not even surprised, actually. His father no doubt put him up to it.

"He planned to alert Lucius of your meeting with Cornelius Fudge, and of your plans to control Slytherin from the shadows," Dumbledore went on. "He mentioned something called the Silver Triumvirate…" Shite.

"It's a Slytherin thing, please ignore it," Ron said quickly. "And yes, I am indeed controlling Slytherin, but not from the shadows. After all, we have plans for the House of the Cunning." I can't let them follow their parents into a life of death and evil, especially the younger ones. They deserve a chance to find their own identities, just as I have. "What do you plan to do with that letter?"

"I will Magically remove everything about you from it, and then hand it over to Narcissa Malfoy," Dumbledore replied.

"It's a shame that her husband escaped," Ron said, and Dumbledore nodded his agreement. "Has she given into our threats? Is Malfoy to stay with her?"

"Give her time, Ronald," Dumbledore said. "It hasn't even been a full day yet."

"The sooner she decides to keep her son to herself, the sooner I can work on him," Ron said. "A person's surroundings help shape them, and if he begins living with people who despise the Dark Lord, he'll see that bastard for what he truly is."

"You are going well out of your way to help Draco Malfoy," Dumbledore smiled a little, while Ron just shrugged.

"It's the right thing to do," Ron said, his eyes moving down to his own lap. "Malfoy is a prick, but I just don't see him as a murderous lunatic. And… He's had it rough lately. The next few months will be even worse for him, but at least he'll be far away from You-Know-Who."

"That alone is worth all the risk," Dumbledore stated. "The less people that Tom can corrupt, the better." Dumbledore then looked to the Chess pieces. "We have some time before dinner, shall we play a game?"

"Sure."

---

William Weasley's POV

Monday 23rd November, 1993 (Ministry of Magic – Early Morning)

The hustle and bustle of the Ministry didn't sit well with him, he genuinely preferred breaking Curses placed on the damp, dark dungeons of Ancient Wizards. His mother and father had not easily accepted his passion for Dungeon diving, but now that he was sitting here, he was truly glad that he had chosen his own path. I'd hate to become a paper pusher… Seriously, how do these people not get bored of their jobs?

"There he is," came Charlie's voice, and Bill's face lit up. "My long lost brother."

"Charlie," Bill smiled from ear to ear as he stood up, his muscular younger brother had just entered the waiting area. Behind Charlie was a smiling witch, one with short black hair and deep brown eyes. The brothers embraced each other, and Bill felt a feeling of bliss wash over him. It's been too long.

"I've fucking missed you," Charlie whispered, and Bill tightened his hold.

"I've missed you too," Bill breathed in his brother's scent. He smells like the outdoors, as always. After a few seconds, the brothers broke apart with content smiles.

"Bill, this is Kirsten Domitor," Charlie introduced, and the black haired witch stepped forward.

"A pleasure to finally meet you," Bill smiled at her, and she shook his hand. Oh, she's got quite the grip. Bill wasn't really surprised by the fact that Kirsten was quite muscular, after all, she and Charlie tussled with Dragons for a living. "Charlie has told me so much about you through his letters."

"Is that so?" Kirsten shot a teasing smile at her boyfriend, who just grinned in response. "Well, he's told me quite a lot about his 'cool' big brother."

"Cool?" Bill chuckled, he already liked this witch.

"I never once said the word 'cool'," Charlie denied immediately. Uh-huh.

"Don't listen to him," Kirsten giggled. "Whenever he speaks of you, his entire face lights up."

"Are you done?" Charlie groaned, while Bill let out a genuine laugh. He did always love following me around, even at Hogwarts he found any excuse to approach me. "Bill, where are your things?"

"In my pocket," Bill replied, and Charlie cocked an eyebrow at him. "Shrinking Charm, Charlie. All of us Curse-Breakers modify our trunks. You never know when you'll need to spend weeks inside a Dungeon."

"Fair enough," Charlie laughed as he shook his head. "Let's get out of here, eh? Just being inside this building is giving me anxiety." Me too.

"Actually, let's drop by and see dad first," Bill suggested. "It's Monday, so he should be in his Office." Charlie and Kirsten exchanged quick looks, and Charlie adorned a more serious expression. "Do mum and dad not know about her yet?"

"No, they don't," Kirsten replied a little haughtily. Bloody hell, Charlie… How long are you going to put this off?

"Let's go meet dad," Charlie said. "All of us."

"Are you sure?" Kirsten asked, adorning a softer voice.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Charlie nodded, and they all began to head towards the elevators. Bill moved to Charlie's right, his eyes lingering on Charlie and Kirsten's trunks. Those are quite large, which can only mean one thing.

"You two planning on staying for long?" Bill asked.

"Yeah," Charlie replied. "At least until New Year's Eve." That's great!

"How did you two manage to get so much time off?" Bill asked.

"We didn't," Kirsten replied. "Augusta Longbottom has partnered with the Fawley and Shafiq Families in order to open up a Dragon Reserve here in Britain. Our Reserve asked for volunteers, and we both signed up immediately."

"So you'll still be working," Bill nodded to himself.

"Hardly," Charlie smirked. "We're just helping set up things, and maybe training the British Dragonologists a bit. I mean, Britain has never had a Dragon Reserve before, so they only know theory."

They entered the elevator, and Bill clicked the second floor button. The elevator jerked to life, and it began descending down to the second floor.

"So, where are you two planning to stay?" Bill asked, and the couple exchanged unsure looks.

"The Leaky Cauldron," Kirsten replied.

"The Burrow," Charlie replied at the same time.

"Charlie…" Kirsten sighed. "I don't mind staying at the Leaky Cauldron again."

"It's not safe, and you know that," Charlie countered, and Bill blinked at his brother. Has he told her of the Order? "I'll convince mum, trust me. And we'll only stay there for a few days, just to appease mum. After that, we can stay at the Leaky Cauldron together."

"Right," Bill smirked. "Good luck with that, little brother."

The elevator jerked to a halt, and they all stepped out.

"Now if I remember correctly, dad's Office is that way," Bill pointed, and they began heading towards the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office.

"Where are you staying, Bill?" Charlie asked.

"With mum and dad, at least until I can get my own apartment," Bill replied.

"Ha! You didn't find a place before coming back?" Charlie laughed. "Rookie mistake, brother." Yeah, I know, but things have been really hectic, and the Goblins weren't happy about my transfer.

"You both sound like you don't want to stay at the Burrow," Kirsten noted, and both brothers exchanged knowing looks.

"We love our parents, and our childhood home," Bill started.

"But the Burrow can get overcrowded," Charlie added.

"Plus, we're too used to living by ourselves," Bill piled on.

"Mum and dad will just mollycoddle us, not to mention the lack of any freedom," Charlie finished. "I've already told you everything, love. We won't be allowed to drink, or sleep in the same bed, or share a smoke, or stay up late doing our own thing. Trust me, it can get to a person's head rather quickly. Which is why I was hoping that Bill had found an apartment."

"I tried, but the Goblins left me out to dry," Bill sighed. "They weren't pleased with my request to transfer here." Ah, there's dad's workplace. "I'll tell you guys later."

They entered the tiny Offices, and just as Bill remembered, barely anyone was working in here. They made their way towards Arthur's Office, and once they entered it, Bill was shocked to find towering pieces of parchment. Bloody hell, what happened in here?

"Dad?" Bill called, and Arthur Weasley's head popped up from behind a man-sized stack of dusty papers.

"Bill?" Arthur's eyes widened, and then he looked to Charlie. "Charlie?"

"Surprise!" Charlie said loudly, a wide grin on his face. Their father let out a happy laugh as he rushed to them from behind his work, and before they knew it, both of them were being pulled into a loving embrace.

"My sons," Arthur laughed happily. "When did you get here? Why didn't you send any word of your arrival?"

"Charlie and I wanted to surprise you and mum," Bill replied, he was just a bit shorter than his father.

"Consider me surprised," Arthur kissed their heads, and while Charlie tried to move away from his father's love, Bill was just content to be near the man again. I've missed him terribly. "And who is this?"

"Dad, this is Kirsten Domitor," Charlie introduced as he took a step back. "She's my girlfriend."

"Oh, nice to meet you!" Arthur's eyes flashed with excitement, while Bill grinned at Charlie and Kirsten. Here it comes! "I like your hair, can't say that I've met many witches who wear their hair so short."

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Kirsten smiled and shook the man's hand. "Short hair is a must against Dragon Fire, a lesson that I learnt the hard way."

"Of course," Arthur's smile grew wider. "Now that you mention it, it makes complete sense. I assume you two met at the Reserve."

"We did," Charlie replied, this was going well. "Kirsten is actually a couple of years older than me, and she's the leader of our team."

"She certainly looks… formidable," Arthur joked, though there was a hint of bemusement in his voice. In all of his life, he had never seen such a muscled witch. Don't laugh at them, just enjoy Charlie feeling uncomfortable. Charlie shot a look towards Bill for help, but Bill just shot him a wink.

"She is quite formidable, but also very gentle and kind," Charlie said, clearly trying to talk up his girlfriend.

"And how long have you two been dating?" Arthur asked Kirsten.

"Almost a year now, but we were seeing each other on and off ever since Charlie arrived at the Reserve," Kirsten replied truthfully, while Charlie just closed his eyes. Arthur Weasley clearly understood what 'on and off' meant, and he shot Bill a quick look. Yes, dad, they were having casual sex.

"Well…" Arthur smiled awkwardly. "You're practically a Weasley already then, eh?" Bill let out a strangled laugh, while Charlie smacked his own forehead. "What?"

"Dad… Really?" Charlie sighed out, while his girlfriend looked thoroughly amused.

"I'm really happy to finally meet you, Mr. Weasley," Kirsten smiled at the man. "Charlie has told me such amazing, and funny, stories about you. Is it true that you tricked the Ministry into letting you keep a flying Ford Anglia?"

"I did indeed," Arthur chuckled. "I'll show you when you stay at the Burrow with us. You are staying with us, aren't you?"

"She is," Charlie said quickly, he had recovered in time to seize the opportunity. "But only for a little bit. We're actually going to be working at a Reserve here in Britain, so we'll be away from home a lot." Liar. He wants to stay at the Leaky Cauldron with his girlfriend, but also save face with mum.

"How long are you two staying for?" Arthur asked.

"Until New Year's Eve," Charlie replied. "After that, we have to go back to Romania."

"Can't you get a transfer here like Bill?" Arthur asked, he already looked upset over the thought of Charlie leaving.

"Not really," Charlie looked to Bill again, and this time, Bill decided to step in.

"Dad, remember what I told you about the Goblins?" Bill asked.

"They weren't happy with you," Arthur nodded slowly.

"Getting a transfer is no simple task, especially on such short notice," Bill explained. "Charlie's entire life is in Romania right now, so he can't just pack his bags and leave."

"But you pulled it off," Arthur said.

"Gringotts is a massive business all over the World," Bill said. "Dragon Reserves are rare enough as it is, and there's only one in all of Britain."

"Which is extremely new, and not hiring," Charlie added.

"Arthur! You in here?!" came a voice from outside, and Arthur quickly popped his head out of the door.

"What is it, Jordan?!" Arthur called out.

"Gaia Project team needs extra hands again," the wizard named Josh replied. "We drew the short straw. Again." Gaia Project? Dad is helping with that? That's not even his Department.

"I'll be right there!" Arthur called out, and then he looked back to Charlie. "We'll talk about this tonight, alright?"

"Right," Charlie sighed out, he knew that he was in for a 'work at the Ministry' talk.

"It was nice to meet you," Arthur smiled at Kirsten, and then he looked to Bill. "Bill, come outside for a second. I need to talk to you before I head off." Bill gave a nod, and he followed his father outside. Once Bill had closed the door behind himself, he joined his father near an empty cubicle.

"What is it, dad?" Bill asked.

"We're not staying at the Burrow at the moment," Arthur replied, and Bill blinked at him.

"Why? What's happened?"

"A lot," Arthur replied with a distant look. "One of the Order's members, Elphias Doge, was murdered in the streets. The war is here, son, and we can't afford to be careless."

"Right," Bill gave a firm nod. "Where are we staying then?"

"I can't tell you," Arthur replied.

"The Fidelius Charm?" Bill asked, and Arthur gave his bright son a proud smile.

"Go to the Headmaster's Office in Hogwarts," Arthur instructed. "He'll send you to where your mother and I are staying currently. Now… One last thing. Does Charlie's girlfriend know about the Order?"

"I'm not sure," Bill replied. "But knowing him, probably."

"Take her with you then," Arthur said. "She shouldn't be left alone, especially in Diagon Alley."

"Is Diagon Alley not safe as well?" Bill asked, he dearly wished that he knew more about the Order's movements and plans. Now that I'm back, I'll be right by dad's side for everything.

"No place is safe, son," Arthur replied. "Especially for us Weasleys, and our loved ones. You take care of them both, Bill, do you understand? I'm leaving them in your care."

"You can count on me, dad," Bill smiled, and Arthur patted his right cheek.

"I know, son," Arthur said proudly. "Welcome home."

---

Twenty Minutes Later

"This is a terrible idea," Bill stated, they were waiting in line to grab three pints.

"Don't be such a girl," Charlie smirked. "It's just one pint each."

"We're going home to mum, Charlie," Bill reminded him. "How do you think she'll react when she finds out that we stopped for a pint before coming home?" She'll tear us new ones.

"Here's a thought," Charlie pretended to think. "Let's not tell her."

"She'll smell it," Bill said blandly, he had been caught by his mother before. "She's like a bloodhound, and you know it. Not to mention that it's so early in the day… I haven't even eaten breakfast yet."

"Merlin, do you have a twat between your legs?" Charlie asked. "We have one pint, talk a little, and then we can go home."

"Fine," Bill sighed. When we do get caught, I'll get blamed for this. Bill shot a look back to see Kirsten securing a free table for them. "Charlie, have you told her about the Order?"

"Um… Yeah," Charlie replied offhandedly.

"Bloody hell, Charlie… What were you thinking?" Bill frowned at his little brother. "You've put her in danger by telling her about the war."

"She's agreed to join," Charlie told him. "Look, I really love this witch, Bill, and I don't want to lie to her. And she's stronger than you think. When I brought it up, she agreed to fight by my side immediately. Plus, Dumbledore ordered me to recruit potential members, and that's what I've done."

"Charlie, people are going to get killed out there," Bill said gently.

"I work at a Dragon Reserve," Charlie rolled his eyes. "Our lives are constantly in danger, and trust me, I've seen idiots get burned down." Really?

"Alright," Bill relented. "I'm sorry, little brother. I just don't want you to regret telling her when things get really hairy."

"She's the one who agreed to join, and I'll always respect that," Charlie said, much to Bill's surprise. He's grown up. Bill smiled a little to himself, he was truly glad to be home once again. "There is one thing though…" Huh?

"What?" Bill asked slowly.

"I might have mentioned Ronnie's run in with You-Know-Who…" Charlie all but whispered, and Bill immediately lost his smile. That was meant to be a secret.

"You bloody moron-"

"It just came out," Charlie interrupted. "And then I… blathered on… about Ronnie's other issues." Oh, for fuck's sake.

"Merlin, Charlie," Bill felt the urge to smack his brother.

"We were both drunk, and I needed proof of the Dark Lord still being alive," Charlie said quickly. "As for the rest, I just needed to talk to someone about it…"

"You just told me that she agreed immediately," Bill said in a scolding tone. "So which one is it?"

"She did… After I told her everything," Charlie swallowed thickly. "You can't tell anyone, Bill. Dad will have my hide if he finds out, and I don't even want to think about what Ronnie will do."

"What? You're scared of Ron?" Bill frowned. "Honestly, I have half a mind to smack you right now. You spilled Family secrets to some… Some girl that none of us even know."

"Careful," Charlie frowned immediately. "If things keep going the way they are, she'll be a Weasley someday soon." Bill was a bit taken aback, but he didn't lose his frown.

"So she knows everything about Ron?" Bill asked. "His conditions? His scars?"

"Yeah…" Charlie deflated. "She's promised not to say a word about it, but I don't think Ron will care much about that. He's not the forgiving sort."

"Honestly, why do you all make him sound like such a terror?" Bill asked. For the last two years, every time someone sent him a letter about Ron, it was riddled with negative things. Especially Ginny's letters. Honestly, what the hell happened to those two? They were always so close. "He's got problems, I can understand that, but none of us are perfect either."

"Trust me, you haven't met him since he left for Hogwarts," Charlie moved up in the line. "Three pints of whatever is cheapest."

"Here you are," Tom the Bartender poured the beers. "Six Knuts."

Bill paid the man, while Charlie took two pints. Bill took his own, and they began walking towards Kirsten. Bill felt the urge to question Charlie more about Ron, but he decided to hold off on his interrogation.

"Here you go, love," Charlie said as he handed Kirsten her pint. "Enjoy cheap British beer."

"If it's anything like cheap Romanian beer, I'll love it," Kirsten smirked, and then she took a massive sip. "Perfect. It tastes just like piss." Bill couldn't help but smile, he quite liked this witch. She's literally a female version of Charlie.

"I told Bill," Charlie said as they both sat down, and Kirsten gave a slow nod.

"Is that why he was scolding you?" Kirsten asked Charlie, who just took a sip from his beer. Kirsten looked to Bill, a resolute look on her face. "I didn't come here to teach the British on how to handle Dragons. I'm here to fight for what I believe in. I'm glad that Charlie told me everything, it gives me the chance to stand up against the coming darkness. And, with me watching his back, your brother might not die doing something stupid."

"Yeah, no one has the power to stop that from happening," Bill said, his features softening. "I'm glad that you're fighting with us, Kirsten. But Charlie had no right to spill Ron's personal issues to you. Not even our siblings know about them, and we're forbidden from mentioning them."

"I understand that," Kirsten said. "Your little brother has had a rough go of things, and you're clearly very protective of him. I won't say a word to anyone, but if you ever need my help, you can count on it." Bill gave her a nod, there was no point in arguing about this. What's done is done. All we can do now is keep moving forward.

"We'll tell the Family that you're here to fight the Dark Lord," Bill said. "We won't mention you knowing anything about Ron, alright?"

"We understand," Charlie gave a nod. "So… Where do you think mum and dad are staying?"

"Probably in an Order safe-house," Bill figured. "We'll find out soon enough."

They drank their beers and talked more about each other's jobs. Bill told them about the latest tomb that he had explored, and about the Ancient Seals used by the wizards of old to hide their Arcane Knowledge. He even told them about the mysterious tablet that they had found hidden within the treasure, and about the Dark Beings that were described on said tablet.

Once they were done with their beverages, they made their way to the fireplace.

"Just tell Dumbledore that you're on board, and he'll accept you," Charlie advised his girlfriend. "He's a bit loony, but there isn't a wizard alive who can compare to him."

"Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts," Bill said clearly, and then he tossed the floo powder into the fireplace. It blazed to life, and Bill stepped through first. He immediately found himself back in Hogwarts, which brought a nostalgic smile on his face. Charlie and Kirsten stepped into the Office, while Bill looked around for the Headmaster.

"He's not here?" Charlie asked. "Headmaster Dumbledore!"

"Don't yell," Bill clicked his tongue.

"Yes, please don't yell," came Dumbledore's voice, and he stepped into view from the back of the Office. Both Weasleys smiled at their old Headmaster, while Kirsten eyed the old man with awe. "William and Charlie Weasley, it is good to see you both again."

"Likewise, Headmaster," Bill gave a polite nod.

"You're looking younger these days," Charlie joked, earning a chuckle from Dumbledore.

"I certainly don't feel like it," Dumbledore smiled his kind smile, and then he looked to Kirsten. "I know your presence. You helped smuggle a certain Creature out of Hogwarts once." Kirsten's eyes widened, and she shot a panicked look towards Charlie. "I owe you a debt of gratitude for that. Hogwarts is no place for a Dragon. After all, they live happier lives with their own kin." He hasn't changed a bit. "I am Albus Dumbledore."

"Kir… Kirsten," she introduced herself. "Kirsten Domitor. I studied at Durmstrang, and I'm here to join the Order." Bill and Charlie bit back their chuckles, she looked quite flustered and intimidated. "If you'll have me, Sir."

"There is always a place for the brave in our ranks," Dumbledore said soothingly. "I look forward to fighting alongside you." Kirsten gave a quick nod, while Dumbledore looked to Bill. "Twelve Grimmauld Place is your destination, William. Your mother, and the others, are all there. We are using it as our Headquarters." I swear, he reads people's minds.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Bill said. "Who else knows about 'Twelve Grimmauld Place'?"

"Just the Order," Dumbledore replied. "Oh, and your brother Ronald." Really?

"Ron knows about the Order's Headquarters?" Bill asked, while Charlie cocked an eyebrow.

"I told him about it due to his frequent departures from Hogwarts," Dumbledore told them. "As for the Order, Ronald has not been informed on such matters." Good, he's just a kid.

"Grimmauld Place," Charlie suddenly spoke up. "That's Sirius' home. Bloody hell, I completely forgot about it."

"The Fidelius Charm is an extremely powerful Spell," Bill told his brother. "And the Headmaster is the Secret-Keeper. Only he can divulge the whereabouts of the Order's Headquarters."

"And what happens if he is killed in action?" Kirsten asked.

"Then everyone he's told become the Secret-Keepers," Bill replied, while Dumbledore just smiled at him. "Do we have any other safe-houses? What about the Burrow?"

"For now, we only have one," Dumbledore replied. "But our new allies are quickly securing more. You will meet them soon, I imagine. Now, be on your way. Someone is coming towards my Office." Bill shot a look towards the door, while Charlie prepared the fireplace. I always suspected that the old man could 'sense' presences, and this confirms it. Is it because he's the Master of Hogwarts? It must a Line-of-Succession Charm, or at least a variant. Whoever is the Master of Hogwarts can sense the castle's-

"Bill, let's go," Charlie called, and Bill broke out of his thoughts. Right.

Bill gave Dumbledore a parting nod, and then he followed Charlie and Kirsten through the green flames.

"So this is where Sirius Black lives," Bill said as he entered the empty Living Room. "It's nice." I only met him briefly while Ron was in his coma. He seems like a decent enough bloke.

"Trust me, brother, Sirius is great," Charlie smiled widely. "He's an adult, but he's more like us than them."

"We're adults too," Bill pointed out.

"True, but we don't have rods up our arses," Charlie chuckled. They heard footsteps coming towards them, and then, Xenophilius Lovegood and Molly Weasley entered the Living Room.

"Charlie? Bill?" Molly blinked at them, and then she burst into a wide smile. "You're finally home!" She quickly embraced Charlie, who let out a grunt due to his mother's bone crushing hug. "Why didn't you send word?!"

"We figured that we'd surprise you," Bill replied, while Charlie hugged their mother.

"You two…" Molly hummed, and then she broke away from Charlie in order to pull in Bill. Ow! My back! "Bill?! You're nothing but bones!"

"Mum, that's not-"

"Clearly they feed Charlie at the Reserve, while those nasty Goblins starve you," Molly tutted, and Bill shot a frown at a smirking Charlie. Clearly he eats other people's meals. Fat bastard. "Why do you both smell like a tavern?" Oh, shite.

"Tavern, mum?" Charlie laughed. "It's not even Midday yet."

"Don't you two lie to me," Molly huffed, and then she pulled away from Bill. "And your hair… Bill, what do they say at work?"

"That I'm incredibly handsome," Bill grinned, and Molly eyed his fang earing.

"And you still have that ungodly thing hanging from your ear," Molly shook her head. That's when she spotted Kirsten, who was just waiting to be acknowledged. "And who are you, dear?"

"I'm Kirsten Domitor," Kirsten smiled at the smaller witch. "I'm Charlie's better half."

"Really?" Molly's eyes twinkled. "Let me have a look at you… You're certainly pretty, but why the short hair?"

"Dragon Fire," Kirsten laughed. "My hair caught fire once, and I've kept it short ever since."

"You two met at the Reserve then," Molly figured, a motherly smile on her face. "Let's get you all settled, and then we can get to know each other better."

"Where's your trunk?" Xenophilius asked Bill, who patted his front pocket. "The Shrinking Charm. I also use it when I travel, it's quite handy."

"That it is," Bill shook the man's hand. "It's good to see you again, Mr. Lovegood. Oh, and congratulations about Mrs. Lovegood. Dad told me about the good news a few weeks back."

"Please, call me Xeno," Xenophilius smiled aloofly. "And thank you."

"Mum, where's Sirius?" Charlie asked as they began heading into the Kitchen.

"It's still morning," Molly replied. "You won't be seeing him any time soon."

"He's a heavy sleeper," Xeno added.

"Kreacher," Molly called, and a sudden crack emanated from behind them.

"Lady Weasley called Kreacher?" came a croaky voice, and Bill turned to see an old, rather ugly, House-Elf. The Elf eyed the new residents, and then bowed deeply. He had bandages on his boney fingers, and his right ear was missing a large chunk. Bloody hell, how old is this Elf?

"I did," Molly smiled at him. "We have more guests, can you please find them spare rooms?"

"Kreacher will take their luggage," Kreacher croaked, and then he walked up to their trunks. Once he had his bandaged hands on them, he Disapparated.

"Lady Weasley?" Charlie looked to their mother, a confused look on his face. "Last time I was here, that thing was nothing short of cruel."

"He's changed," Molly told Charlie. "And over the weekend, he has won me over. Did you know that he has hundreds of recipes locked away in his head? I don't care what anyone says, Kreacher is a good soul." Charlie gaped at his mother, while Bill and Kirsten had no idea what was going on.

"What did you mean by cruel, Charlie?" Bill asked.

"He's a bigoted little twat," Charlie frowned, which earned him a light smack on the arm from Molly.

"He's proven himself to us all, and I'll hear none of that language, Charles," Molly scolded. "Now take a seat at the table, you three. I'll fix you something healthy." They all sat down together, while Molly began searching for ingredients.

"Kreacher was instrumental in our success during a recent mission," Xeno told them, and Molly quickly shot a look towards Kirsten.

"Xeno-"

"She already knows, Molly," Xeno smiled at Kirsten. "Why else would Dumbledore send her here?"

"If this is about the Order, then Mr. Lovegood is right," Kirsten told Molly. "I'm here to fight by Charlie's side, and to help you all in any way that I can." Molly blinked at her, and then she gave Charlie's girlfriend an approving smile. I'm not surprised, Kirsten seems like a perfect fit for Charlie.

"Xeno, why don't you catch us up on everything?" Bill asked. "I want to become useful as quickly as possible." Now that I'm here, I'll keep this Family safe.

---

Hermione Granger's POV

Monday 23rd November, 1993 (Behind the Owlery – After Classes)

Hermione slashed her wand upwards, and in doing so, unleashed a Non-verbal stunner. It was bright red, and much larger than before. Yes! She did it again, and again, and each time, her stunners came out stronger. After three days of practicing, she had finally managed to master Non-verbal Stunning Charms. And although mastering Non-verbal Magic of any type was difficult, that's just who she was.

Hermione Granger was the smartest witch in her year, and probably the other years as well. Unlike her fellow witches, she valued knowledge and hard work over makeup and impressing boys. Somewhere down the line, she had lost sight of who she was, and it had ruined her friendship with Ron. Hermione had become exactly like the girls that she frowned upon, and that needed to change. She needed to change.

Neville was dead right, she and Harry were the cause of their current problems. Harry's insatiable need for the truth, and her obsession with knowledge, had driven Ron away from them. And in complete honesty, Hermione couldn't even bring herself to blame him. Ron was extremely sick, and they had invaded his privacy. And although Harry was the instigator, Hermione too had given into temptation when the time had come. Only Neville resisted, but he paid for our sins nonetheless.

She wasn't angry over being cast out of her own study group, nor was she upset with Ron's cold demeanor. She was mature enough to understand that she had crossed a line, despite her good intentions. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but she accepted it without hesitation. Did she still want to help Ron? Of course, he was her first friend. But I won't. Not until he asks for help. I should listen to Neville more often, he's not the same anxious boy who I helped on the Hogwarts Express.

And then there was the matter of Ron's friends, all of whom, according to Neville, knew of Ron's illness. It had been hard to accept that Ron relied on them instead of her and her friends, but it was also understandable. Neville had shown her how mental her thinking had been, and in hindsight, she was surprised at herself for not realizing sooner that Ron's friends were obliviously closer to him than she could ever be. Honestly, what was I thinking? How could I be so stupid?

Hermione sheathed her wand and drew in a deep breath, emotions had a way of negating logic, and Hermione detested that. She was an academic, and she had never been good with people. I'm still not, actually. After all, I only have two friends, both of whom are boys. Hermione drew her wand and fired a Non-verbal stunner, she was getting quicker each time.

With her match against Greengrass on the horizon, Hermione had turned her focus on her Dueling Skills. She knew her weaknesses, and she planned to work on each of them. She wouldn't panic if she got caught off-guard, she wouldn't rely on her shields as much, and she'd actually run around a little. She had seen Blaise Zabini destroy a shield with Aguamenti and Glacius, which had made her realize that her peers were surpassing her. It was one thing to lose to Ron, but she'd be damned if she lost to someone else.

Hermione already had a massive arsenal of Spells stored away in her mind, and if she tried hard enough, she could come up with creative ways of displaying said Spells. Her reliance on her shields, which she stubbornly clung to because Davis had out-answered her in class, was a mistake. It had resulted in her being ranked in Rank C, whereas she deserved at least Rank B. Learn from your mistakes, Hermione, and come out stronger.

She moved swiftly, her mind focused on her wand movements. She fired Non-verbal stunners and Disarming Charms, all the while making sure that she didn't trip over her own two feet. She was not an athlete, she knew that better than most, but she did have decent stamina. Logically speaking, using simple Spells, which required less wand movements, and running about, would yield the best results. She needed to be quick, but precise. Showing off would get her stunned, or worse, injured.

After she was done with her routine, she sheathed her wand and drew in another deep breath. Again. I need to keep at this until I see no mistakes. Hermione drew her wand, and restarted her routine. Stunners and Disarming Charms flew out of her wand, while she moved from side to side as if she were dodging Spells. Her hair got in her face, but that didn't stop her. I'll be sure to put it into a ponytail next time.

"There you are!" came Ginny's voice, and Hermione stopped mid-Spell. Ginny? Hermione turned around to see Ginny hovering above her, she was wearing her Quidditch gear. Ginny flew down and landed rather gracefully, her features were wind beaten, but she was clearly happy. "So this is where you disappear off to."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Hermione said, her wand going into her pocket.

"C'mon, Hermione," Ginny smirked. "Over the last few days, you've barely been around in the common room. Everyone figured that you were in the Library, but I knew better."

"Is that so?" Hermione's lips twitched upwards. I was wrong. I have three friends, and one of them is a girl.

"It is," Ginny winked. "If you were going to the Library, you'd drag Harry and Neville with you."

"I would not," Hermione denied.

"Yeah, you would," Ginny snorted. She's looking so much happier nowadays. Luna was smart to invite Ginny into her group of friends. "What are you doing back here? Are you training?"

"I am, but you can't tell anyone," Hermione replied. "I want to win, and in order to do that, I need to keep my stratagems hidden."

"Stratagems?" Ginny laughed. "Hidden?"

"Ahem," Hermione cleared her throat. "Don't Quidditch Teams do the same?"

"That's a good point," Ginny tapped her chin, while Hermione smirked.

"Are you flying around with your brothers?" Hermione asked.

"No, I'm flying with my friends," Ginny replied. "I convinced Professor McGonagall to let me steal some brooms from the Shed, and I'm giving them free lessons. Luna's terrible on a broom, but I'll make a Quidditch Star out of her yet." Professor McGonagall… Is it just me, or does she look like she's in pain? "Hey! Why don't you join us?!"

"No thanks," Hermione refused immediately. "Flying is terrifying, and flying on a broom is just nightmare fuel. I'd rather stay on the solid ground."

"Suit yourself," Ginny sighed dramatically.

"You're looking quite happy today," Hermione pointed out.

"Of course I am," Ginny beamed. "I had a Potions Essay due, and since Snape is not around to collect, I got away with it!"

"It's Professor Snape," Hermione corrected her. "And Ginny, you're not pleased about his accident, are you?"

"Um… Everyone is," Ginny said casually.

"I'm not," Hermione stated, which earned her an eye roll. "Ginny, he must be really hurt if they sent him all the way to France for treatment."

"Good, he's a mean git," Ginny said. "He has always been nasty to us, and no one is going to miss him. Hermione, you're the only one who isn't celebrating."

"The Slytherins aren't celebrating," Hermione huffed.

"Of course they're not," Ginny said. "Their Head Snake isn't around to favor them anymore, which means that we'll catch up to those cheaters in House Points. Hermione, why aren't you pleased about that?"

"Because a man got hurt," Hermione replied, her brow furrowed. Ginny sighed and adorned a guilty expression.

"Don't be upset with me," Ginny said softly. "I'm not trying to sound callous-"

"Could've fooled me," Hermione said haughtily. "Professor Snape might be… harsh… but he's a great Professor. He's only in his thirties, and he has earned the title of Potions Master. Do you know how brilliant that is?" Why am I defending him? He's made me cry multiple times.

"Yeesh," Ginny grimaced. "You won't be happy tomorrow morning then…" What was that?

"What does that mean?" Hermione questioned, her curiosity piqued.

"Um…" Ginny mumbled, her eyes widening. "Nothing… I have to go…"

"Ginevra Weasley, if you mount your broom, I'll Hex you," Hermione said quickly. "Tell me what you meant by 'I won't be happy tomorrow morning'?"

"It's nothing…" Ginny lied terribly.

"Ginny, talk," Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"It's the twins…" Ginny shrugged weakly. "They're planning something big for tomorrow morning. You haven't been around the common room much, so you haven't seen them scheming and giggling to each other. Without Snape around, they can target the Slytherins all they want. They plan to start tomorrow morning with their 'best prank yet'." Those two… Why can't they be like Percy?

"They told you this?" Hermione asked.

"They told Harry, but I was around," Ginny replied. Harry James Potter, I will have words with you soon.

"Ginny, you need to tell the Professors," Hermione said, and Ginny let out a scathing laugh.

"And end up on their list myself?" Ginny asked. "No thanks."

"Fine, I'll do it!" Hermione declared.

"Hermione, don't," Ginny warned. "The twins are not to be antagonized, everyone knows that."

"The Slytherins are probably worried about their Head of House, and the twins are taking advantage of that," Hermione frowned. "Imagine if Professor McGonagall was hurt, and the Slytherins started coming after us."

"Which they totally would," Ginny pointed out.

"You don't know that," Hermione said in a frustrated manner. "Ginny, I get that our Houses are rivals, but this is pathetic behavior." It's almost as bad as mine. "I'm going to put a stop to it before it turns ugly."

She knew that she was partly trying to redeem herself to herself, but this felt like the right thing to do. Right now, the Slytherins were in a corner, and Hermione wanted her House-mates to be better than vultures. If the twins find out that it was me who ratted them out, they'll come for me instead. But you know what? I'm not scared of their foolish behavior. Hermione began marching towards the castle, and Ginny caught up to her.

"Hermione, why do you always ruin people's fun?" Ginny asked frantically. "It's just some minor jokes-"

"Fun? It's fun to target other students now?" Hermione asked in return. "Ginny, someone has to put the right foot forward, and I want it to be us. I mean honestly, did you see how happy our House-mates were when the Headmaster announced Professor Snape's accident? It was disgusting. Even Harry and Neville seemed happy about it, which actually turned my stomach."

"Are you sure that you're not just upset about this Potions Club being shut down?" Ginny asked.

"Of course I am," Hermione said haughtily. "The fact that Professor Snape picked me, despite his hatred of me, proves that he's not without some virtue. And truth be told, he's very different at the Potions Club. He never yells at people, except for Ron, and he never berates me. He's even complimented my skill at prepping ingredients."

"Bloody hell, she's smitten with Snape," Ginny 'gagged', and Hermione shot her a frown. "Look, I'll help, but only because I don't want you becoming the twins' next victim. Telling the Professors might seem like the right idea, but it's not. They'll just haul the twins off to detention, which will only solidify their resolve. We need to warn the Slytherins, and as it happens, we both know a Slytherin who will listen to us."

---

Almost One Hour Later

"I'm boooooreeeed!" Ginny groaned loudly, and Hermione felt the same way. He doesn't want to see me, but I can't tell Ginny why. "Honestly, where is that oaf?"

"Don't say that," Hermione said without thinking. "He's still your brother."

"Pfft," Ginny blew raspberries. "He's turned into a pompous git, and you know it. I mean seriously, look at us. We've been sitting in this classroom for an hour, and he's still not here. No one has the right to summon Lord Weasley."

"Ginny, just stop it," Hermione rubbed her forehead. She's becoming increasingly bitter towards him, and he hasn't done a thing to earn her spite.

"Whatever," Ginny rolled her eyes. "Look, let's just go already. I doubt that chubby snake went looking for Ron as we asked."

"Why do you keep calling them snakes?" Hermione asked. "You sound just like the twins, and all the snobby brats in our House."

"Everyone knows that Slytherin is filled with the worst sort of people in this school, and even you can't deny that," Ginny pointed out. "I mean, how many other people come after you for your Blood-Status?"

"None," Hermione sighed, she couldn't argue that. "Let's go, he's not coming…"

As she stood up to leave, a small part of her felt extremely sad and hurt. She had selfishly agreed to Ginny's plan to involve Ron, but only because she saw that as her way of approaching him. Despite her guilt and regret, she still wanted to fix things with him. That's just who she was. If she saw something broken, she began fixing it without thought. Just as they neared the door, it was pushed open. Ron stepped into the room, his face cold and expressionless. He's here? He's here!

"Finally," Ginny frowned at him, but he just cocked an eyebrow.

"Sorry for the wait, but I had other engagements," Ron said coldly, his eyes fixed on Hermione. She swallowed thickly, and then she forced herself to calm down.

"We need to tell you something, so please close the door," Hermione said, her voice cracking a little. Don't get intimidated by him, Hermione. You made a mistake, but you're trying to fix things now. Ron shut the door, and then he waited for them to talk.

"Well?" Ron asked after a couple of seconds. "What is it?"

"The twins are planning to target the Slytherins," Hermione replied quickly, and Ron blinked at her. "Ginny told me, and I decided to do something about it." Ginny shot a look at Hermione's back, did she seriously just take the credit for this idea? "I wanted to go to the Professors, but Ginny convinced me to tell you instead. They're planning something big for tomorrow morning, and it won't stop there."

"The twins are planning to target us?" Ron spoke to himself, and then he frowned. "Of course they are… Damn vultures can't help but target people who are defenseless. I should've seen this coming."

"Oi!" Ginny scowled at him. "Don't talk about them like that! They're your Blood!"

"That's rich coming from you," Ron said, his tone completely indifferent. "And don't raise your voice at me again, or I'll slap the taste out of your mouth." Hermione shot a quick look towards Ginny, who looked gobsmacked. With that, Ron turned around and left the room.

"Wait here," Hermione whispered quickly, while Ginny just stood rooted to her spot. Hermione followed Ron outside, and she shut the door behind her. "Ron, stop for a second."

"What is it?" Ron asked without turning around.

"I'm sorry," Hermione apologized, and Ron stopped walking. "I'm sorry about everything." Just saying the words was enough to clog her throat, but she wasn't one to back down easily. "I should've done better… I let my need to help you cloud my judgement, and I understand why you're upset. You have every right to be-"

"I do, do I?" Ron turned around, his eyes digging into hers. And then, he walked up to her slowly. Hermione felt tiny as he loomed over her, and when he put his hands on her cheeks, Hermione's body seized up. "You ever do something like this again, and I'll crack your skull like a walnut."

Hermione just stood there, her entire body felt like it was being crushed from shock and fear. She knew that he was angry, but this was something completely different.

"You and Harry need to stay away from me," Ron pulled his hands back. "After everything I've done for you two, you keep coming after me. And no, I don't care about your inquisitive natures. I'm not the sort of person that you fuck with. Remember that, Hermione. For your own sake, remember that." Hermione nodded shakily, and Ron turned around and left.

Hermione just stood there for a few seconds, and she broke out of her stupor when Ginny burst out of the room.

"Where is he?!" Ginny fumed. "Slap me?! I'll show him!"

"He's gone, Ginny," Hermione released a shaky breath. "Let it go…" I feel like my heart is about to explode… That was really scary…

"When I tell mum…" Ginny grit out. "Fucking snake… We should've let the twins go after them!"

"He's angry, and neither of us have been very good to him," Hermione admitted, despite not wanting to.

"Why do you always defend him?" Ginny glared at her.

"I don't," Hermione replied. "Ginny, just stop it, alright? One of these days, you'll regret how you treat him." Just like I do. "Let's just go…"

"One of these days, my 'Lord Brother' is going to realize that he's an egomaniac," Ginny spat out, and both girls began heading for Gryffindor Tower. "Slap me? I should slap him. Maybe then, he'll finally become normal again." I don't think he'll ever be normal, not according to the books I've read. Merlin, how long has he been sick for? Is that why he's become so… cold?

Hermione pushed all thoughts of Ron out of her mind, she had learned her lesson. She'd be patient, and when he was ready to forgive her, she'd be waiting. Forcing myself into his affairs got me here, and if I don't learn from that, then I really am an idiot. From now on, my focus will be on my studies. And my friends.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Monday 23rd November, 1993 (Slytherin Common Room – Evening)

"Did you really have to say those things?" Daphne sighed out, they were both sitting together in a dark corner.

"I just had my session, and I wasn't in the mood to be yelled at," Ron rubbed his forehead, his meeting with Hermione and Ginny had left him with a sour taste in his mouth. Not to mention the twins and their schemes.

"Ron… Are you going to tell me what's bothering you?" Daphne asked. "It can't just be Professor Snape, you two aren't that close to each other." You'd be surprised. "Is it the pressure of this Gala?"

"Both," Ron scooted into her side. "Maybe I did take things too far…"

"You definitely did," Daphne said firmly. "There is a time to be cold and ruthless, Ron, and this wasn't it. You need to apologize to Ginny."

"Piss on that," Ron frowned. "Why do I always have to apologize? She still hasn't shown an ounce of regret over her words. If anything, she's become increasingly bitter towards me." Clearly Harry wasn't pushing her into it. She's doing this all by herself. The thought actually hurt Ron, but he refused to show it.

"That's her problem," Daphne countered. "Ron, think of the Gala. You are about to take this entire thing by storm, and you need your Blood standing beside you. A Family has to show unity, otherwise, it won't be respected." Damn, she's right. Ron drew in a deep breath, and he imagined himself on Stoatshead Hill. Peace washed over him for a moment, and Ron felt his focus realign. Think of the bigger picture, Ron. Listen to wise counsel, and then make your moves.

"What should I do?" Ron asked gently, how did she always get through to him? Daphne smiled at him for putting his anger aside, and she took a hold of his gloved hand.

"Buy her a nice dress for this Gala, and tell her that you didn't mean what you said," Daphne advised. "Tell her that you are under a lot of pressure, and her raising her voice got to you. There's no need to make a huge declaration, but just say enough to get your point across. If she still keeps behaving like an ape, then at least you'll know that you did your best."

"Can you order this dress?" Ron asked. "I don't know much about these things."

"I'll order it tonight, and it'll be here within a day," Daphne promised.

"I'll pay you back," Ron said, and then he kissed her cheek. "Thank you."

"You can thank me by taking me on another date," Daphne smiled smugly, and Ron blinked at her. "What? We had so much fun on the last one, and I want more."

"I'll get right on it," Ron couldn't help but smile, and he pulled her closer. She's so soft and warm.

"You better," Daphne huffed, though she looked quite pleased.

"At this Gala… Can you be there with me?" Ron asked. "I know you have to be with the Greengrass Family, but just for a bit?"

"We'll sneak away," Daphne giggled. "And I have my own plans for the French Families who will be attending."

"You do?" Ron asked.

"Do you remember our Holiday House in Paris?" Daphne asked, and Ron gave a nod. "Father wanted one in Magical Paris, but he was refused because the French still blame us for the Great War. I want to expand our businesses in France, and these Families are my ticket."

"Wow," Ron chuckled. "Your father would be quite proud of that, I imagine."

"I'm doing this for me," Daphne told him. "You're thirteen, and you're not letting your age stop you from accomplishing great things. I won't lie, it kind of makes me jealous."

"Why?" Ron blinked.

"Because I want to be successful too," Daphne replied. "We all do, Ron. Look at Millie, she's been working her arse off for this Tournament, and it's not because she wants to impress the Slytherins. She wants to achieve something, and so she's giving it her all. I'm not a Duelist, or an academic, but I'm clever and I have a head for business. I want to prove that to father, and then make a name for myself. I want to be Daphne, not just Daphne Greengrass."

"Well, if that's how you feel, then you should go for it," Ron smiled.

"You'd better introduce me to Madame Maxime," Daphne said quickly. "She can make all the difference for my plans."

"I'll be sure to do that," Ron promised her, and they both relaxed into each other's sides.

Ron rested his head on her hair, while his mind traveled to the Future. Once I'm in the Ministry, I'll start implementing meaningful changes. First order of business is to make myself invaluable, and then, I can start working on Madam Bones' promotion. I also need to make sure that she's not angry with me after our last meeting. I was harsh with her, but only because I needed to be.

"Ron, there's Samantha," Daphne whispered suddenly, and Ron broke out of his thoughts.

"I need to tell her about the twins," Ron said, and then he let go of Daphne. "I'll see you after, alright?"

"I'll be with the others," Daphne stood up, and they parted ways after a quick peck. Ron followed after Samantha, who was heading towards the Training Area.

"Samantha!" Ron called, and she stopped and turned around.

"Ron? What is it?" Samantha asked, her face expressionless as usual. "I'm just about to help Clara and Carey with the B-ranks."

"Something urgent has come up," Ron said as he gently guided her aside.

"What is it?" Samantha asked, he had her full attention.

"My brothers, the twins, are planning something," Ron started. "A couple of Gryffindors told me that they have some scheme cooking up for us Slytherins. Without Professor Snape here to shield us, they're planning to come after us all. Apparently, they have a massive prank lined up for tomorrow morning."

"Shite," Samantha frowned. "Honestly, Ron… What is the matter with your brothers?"

"They've always been like this," Ron admitted, he now understood why he was their favorite target. The strong like to prey on the weak, and I was the weakest creature in sight. "They know that they can get away with coming after us, and that's incentive enough for them. Seriously, these two murdered my pet once without an ounce of regret. At least not until my older brothers belted them."

"Merlin, your Family is terrifying," Samantha just stared at him, and Ron blinked at her. "Are you all that ruthless, or is it just you and the twins?"

"We all have… tempers…" Ron looked around awkwardly. And unlike me, my siblings are brilliant enough to really fuck shite up.

"You Weasleys…" Samantha drew in a deep breath, and then she caressed his left cheekbone with her thumb. "I'll tell Carey and Clara, while you talk to your brothers. Ron, we don't need this right now. If the twins start a fight, we'll be the ones who lose. We have to do everything we can to keep the House Points that we have, and your brothers are a danger to that. Get them to back off, and if you can't, then we need to go to the Headmaster."

"That won't paint us in the best light," Ron told her. "The twins are extremely popular, and if we turn them in, every other House will see us as rats."

"Good luck," Samantha gave him a rare smile, and then she left for the Training Area. I'll need more than luck on this. How do I convince them to back off without turning into their target?

---

Monday 23rd November, 1993 (Courtyard – After Dinner)

"Ronnie!" Fred smiled as they approached him.

"Ickle Ronnikins!" George smiled as well. "You could've just approached us yourself, there's no need to send your peons." Ron went to say something but Fred cut him off.

"Of course he had to send his peons, brother mine," Fred said. "Lord Weasley must exercise his power once in a while, or he'll go barmy."

"Barmier than usual, that is," George snapped his fingers. Merlin, give me the strength to not smack one of them.

"I sent my first year because you two were sitting near Percy," Ron stated. "If I went myself, he'd follow us out here. Is that what you want?"

"No," they both said together.

"I love it when you act so clever," Fred grinned. "Gives me goosebumps, little brother."

"Now, why are we here?" George asked. "It's cold, and we have things to do."

"Things?" Ron asked. "Are you planning your massive prank for tomorrow morning?" The twins just stared at him, and then they adorned innocent looks.

"What prank?" they asked together.

"Look, I know what you're up to," Ron said. "And I'm here to ask you not to follow through. Please, we don't need this right now. Our House is going through a lot, and you-"

"Going through a lot?" Fred smirked.

"Are you all missing King Snake?" George smirked as well. King Snake? Ron just stared at them, and then his face changed.

"Don't talk about Professor Snape like that," Ron took a step forward, his shoulders broadening.

"Easy there, Ronnie," Fred chuckled. "No need to look so fucking grim, alright?"

"We're just joking around," George said. "Don't take it so personally."

"Why are you planning to target us?" Ron asked them. "As far as I know, we haven't done anything to warrant your attention."

"True, but we work in mysterious ways," George grinned. "Plus, it's been a while since we pulled one on you lot."

"Fred… George… As your brother, I'm asking you to not do this," Ron said calmly. "Right now, a lot of us are worried about our Head of House, and you could start something really ugly if you come after us."

"Is that a promise?" Fred asked.

"Please, this is not a joke," Ron said, he was getting annoyed with their lack of moral fiber.

"Bloody hell, why are you such a killjoy now?" George groaned, while Fred clicked his tongue. "Fred, have you noticed that about him as well? All he does is complain." Complain? When do I fucking complain?

"Everyone has noticed," Fred pointed out. "Do you mind explaining yourself, Grandpa?"

"I'm trying to stop you two from starting a massive fight between our Houses," Ron started, but then he stopped. Wait… The twins aren't idiots.

"Go on, Ronnie," Fred smiled at him.

"Tell us what's on your mind," George leaned forward.

"You two are unbelievable," Ron shook his head. "You want to start a fight, don't you? Let me guess, you want us to retaliate."

"We know you will," Fred grinned. "House of the Cunning, my freckled arse."

"Snape might have boosted you cheats into the lead, but without him here to help you, it's open season on snakes," George sniggered. They're just arrogant enough to admit their motives.

"You're that desperate, are you?" Ron asked them, his jaw clenching.

"What? Only you deserve to win?" Fred frowned a little. "Classic Slytherin mentality."

"We thought you better than that, Ronnikins," George added. "And you know what? You have no authority over us. We have been playing pranks long before you showed up, and we intend to keep at it."

"Everyone else might dance to your tune, little brother, but we know you better than them," Fred said. "This person in front of us… That's not you."

"Lord Weasley is just your ego," George shrugged. "Now, please excuse us. We have things to do."

"Oh, and if you tattle on us, then we'll teach you just what we're capable of," Fred warned. "Instead, I reckon you should just brush that chip off of your shoulder, and laugh once in a while." With that, the twins turned around and sauntered off. Ron just stared at their backs, a part of him wanted to catch up to them and beat them bloody. Lord Weasley… Fucking degenerate cunts.

Ron rubbed his face harshly, what the fuck was he supposed to do now?

---

Ten Minutes Later

It was disturbing how quickly Ron had come up with a strategy, but then again, his mind had become his greatest asset of late. He had his size, and his Dueling prowess, but it was his mind that had helped him rise up the ranks. Ron understood strategy, and he knew the twins, that was his greatest strength right now.

"Excuse me," Ron said, and the Elves stopped working immediately. "Might I speak with Head Chef Flippy? I'll only take up a few short moments, I promise."

"Marty, take over please," Flippy said, and then he ran up to Ron. "Yes, Sir?" Ron's gaze lingered on his Elf, who was pretending to not know him personally.

"Please, just call me Ron," Ron smiled at the Elf. "I have a request to make of you, and it's a bit unorthodox."

"Flippy will help however he can, Sir," Flippy assured him. So no Ron, then?

"I was wondering if you could send food to the Slytherin common room from today on," Ron started. "As you know, Professor Snape's accident has changed much in the school, and we don't feel comfortable being inside the Great Hall without him there."

"Flippy understands that," Flippy nodded.

"The Weasley twins, my brothers, plan to target us with their terrible pranks," Ron went on, Marty had mentioned that the Elves weren't fond of the twins' jokes. "They know that without Professor Snape, we have no one left to stand up for us. I would really appreciate it if you could help us out."

"Flippy doesn't have permission to do such a thing, Sir," Flippy said slowly. "All students must dine in the Great Hall, those are Flippy's instructions."

"I know," Ron sighed, and then he knelt down. "Please, Flippy… I am begging you for help. My House is hurting, and the twins want to take advantage of that. I went to them to sort this out, but they refused to back off. I can't turn them in, as that will only anger them. I have no one to turn to right now, no one except you and your workers."

Flippy made a sorry face, and then he shot a look backwards.

"Flippy will arrange something," Flippy promised slowly, and then he gave Ron a toothy smile. I fucking love Elves.

"Thank you," Ron smiled in return. "I don't forget my debts, friend. If you ever need anything, I'm your man." Flippy gave a nod, and then he ran back to his dishes. Ron stood up, and with one final grateful nod, he left the Kitchens. Now I just need to convince the House, which is another beast entirely.

Ron began making his way towards the Dungeons, his mind coming up with a speech. He needed to be firm, but at the same time, he needed to be persuasive. Pride was Slytherin's greatest sin, and his House was infected with it. If Ron told them to tuck tail and run, they'd only lash out at him and his brothers. He needed to show them that it was the cunning thing to do, despite how cowardly it was. I know the twins, and we don't stand a fucking chance against them at their own game. We have to sacrifice a few pieces in order to win the game.

As Ron entered the Dungeons, a sudden fatigue gripped him. For a moment, Ron's head spun terribly and he felt his stomach tighten. What the fuck? Ron massaged his forehead, and oddly enough, there was no pain. He simply felt… drained. Don't be a bitch, Ron. You have work to do. Ron shook his head clear, stood up tall once again, and kept moving forward. His lightheadedness persisted, but by the time he reached the common room, he felt more like himself again.

He made his way over to the Triumvirate, who were working on some homework together near a book shelf.

"Ron," Samantha looked up first. "Come, take a seat." Ron sat down across from them, a slightly grim look on his face.

"The twins won't be backing off," Ron told them, and Carey let out a tired breath. "Shite, Carey… When was the last time you slept?"

"I could ask the same of you," Carey said in response. "Go on, Ron. Tell us about the twins' plans."

"Our House Points," Ron started. "That's what they're after. They plan to rile us up with pranks and mean jokes, and when we retaliate, which we will, our Hourglass will get butchered. Professor Snape isn't here to keep them in check, and the other staff members don't particularly like us."

"He's right about that," Clara said, her usual sweetness nowhere to be found. "The twins are well-loved, despite their behavior. When they start pulling pranks, it'll be cute and funny. But when we do the same, we'll be painted as vile and vindictive."

"Great," Carey frowned. "That's just great…"

"I've thought of a strategy, and it might help us," Ron said. "I've spoken with Flippy, the Head Chef of Hogwarts, and he's agreed to send food down to the common room."

"Wait… You plan to hide from them?" Samantha asked. "Ron, no one in this House will tuck tail and run, especially from the twins, who have been a thorn in our sides for years."

"Listen to me," Ron leaned forward. "My brothers are far better at this than we are. There is no scenario in which we outfox them, or out-prank them. The school loves them, while they don't particularly like us. If we Slytherins go to war against the twins, we'll be the bad guys. We will lose all the goodwill that I've built up with my study group, not to mention our lead. Do you really think that Flint will just prank people? Or anyone in this House for that matter? So yeah… We hide from them, and we avoid trouble."

"Damn them both," Carey grit out. "It's like Professor Snape was the wall that kept all the sewage out, and without him, we're just fucked." Ron grimaced a little, he didn't like here cursing like this. She's clearly burning the midnight oil. "There's shite everywhere, and we're drowning in it."

"Ron is right," Clara said gently, her hand rubbing Carey's back. "The twins are unbeatable in their game, so it's best that we not play at all."

"How do we convince the others to hide within the common room for a damn month?" Samantha asked. "The Quidditch Team needs to practice, people have to study for midterms, and the younger ones want to enjoy the snow season."

"Winning takes sacrifice," Ron said, and once again, his head felt weightless. He swayed back and forth, while his eyes blinked repeatedly. Black spots appeared in his vision, and they refused to leave.

"Ron?" Clara called, and Ron shook his head clear. Fuck me, I need to wake the fuck up.

"Sorry," Ron apologized. "Like I was saying, we need to preserve our lead. We're not that far ahead, and if the twins have figured out such a strategy, I promise you, someone else has as well." Ron then drew in a deep breath. "Look, we lose a lot more House Points than we earn, and it's our own fault. We have bigoted cunts who throw disgusting slurs out daily, which constantly hurts our Hourglass. Now Professor Snape kept us even, while also deducting Points from the other Houses. He's not here right now, which makes us the Head of Slytherin. Right now, we need to show strength. Be decisive, and leave the scheming for another day."

"I'm with Ron," Clara voted. "I'm sorry to admit it, but he's dead right about our House-mates. Our own actions have left us in such a pitiful state, and right now, mistakes can't be made. The Professors aren't giving the younger years enough Points, and we're choking to death."

"People won't be happy about this," Carey said. "Ron, your brothers' actions will put you on blast. They'll all blame you for this." I know. Everyone blames me for everything… And you know what? Maybe they're right to.

"I can take it," Ron smiled weakly. "I'll give the speech, while you three keep the peace."

"Ron-" Samantha started, but Ron stood up.

"I'm the unofficial member," Ron told them. "You three are running this House. They need you, not me. So for now, I'll take the blame."

"Go on," Carey gave him a sorry look, while Clara slammed her book shut. Ron made his way to the front of the common room, his eyes darting towards his friends. Tracey smiled and waved at him, while the others gave him curious looks.

"Everyone!" Ron called, and people gave him curious looks. "Can I have your attention please?!" More people looked to him, and Ron drew in a deep breath. "From today onwards, we will be dining within the common room!"

"What?" some random scoffed. "What are you on about?"

"Be quiet, and listen," Samantha ordered, and then she gave Ron a nod.

"My brothers, the twins, have us all in their sights!" Ron announced, and people frowned at him. "They wish to goad us into engaging them, which will result in a lot of damage for us! Besides their terrifying capacity to cause damage, they're clever enough to know that, right now, they have a free pass on us! Without Professor Snape here to protect us, we're going to be their targets!"

"Are you joking?" Jack Hughes stood up. "Your brothers want to start shite, and your response is to run away?"

"My response is to protect the House," Ron countered. "You will not beat them, or outsmart them, or even get near them. I know my Blood, and those two are beyond us in this game. They have the advantage, and if we don't respect that, we'll get fucked."

"Why don't we just prank them in return?" Astoria spoke up, and people shot her annoyed looks. "You know, make a fun-"

"First years don't get to have a voice," Maria Cortez told her. "Be quiet."

"Don't you dare disrespect my first years," Ron glared at her. "They're the reason why we're winning. If she wants to speak, you will shut the fuck up and listen." Cortez gaped at him, while Clara shot her a warning glare. "Tori, we can't prank them for various reasons."

"Why?" Tori asked a little timidly, she wasn't sure if she should speak now.

"For one, we have a terrible reputation in this school," Ron explained, though his eyes traveled all over the room. "If we prank them, we'll be vilified. The twins are adored by everyone, while most people just barely tolerate us. Secondly, the twins can't be beaten at their own game. These two have been at this since they could walk, and they managed to secure Rank A simply because they have created so many Jinxes and Hexes. And lastly, we can't afford to lose any House Points. We are in a terrible bind, and the only way to win is to persevere."

"He's just trying to protect his own brothers," Flint stood up. "Weasley has a soft spot for the Gryffindors, we all know that. They plan to come after us, and like a coward, he wants to hide."

"You certainly are bold now, Flint," Ron cracked his neck. "Come here and say that, if you have the fucking balls." Flint nearly took a step forward, but when Ron's left hand began emitting a faint orange glow, he stopped immediately. "Do you all want to win?! I know you do! We Slytherins crave excellence, that's just who we are! But sometimes, you have to lose a little in order to win big!"

"We have midterms coming up," a fifth year spoke up. "We need the damn Library, Weasley!"

"I know," Ron said, his voice dying down a little. "Which is why you will borrow your books, and then come straight back here. The twins will catch onto us quite quickly, and if you give them the chance, they will make you a laughing stock."

"What about the snow?" Lysandra asked, and Ron gave her a sorry look.

"No snow, Lysandra," Ron said almost gently, and she pouted miserably. "I am sorry about my brothers, but like us, they want to win. And they're-"

"Fuck your fake apologies," Cassius Warrington glared at him. "I have O. W. Ls this year, and I can't fuck around in here! My damn Future is worth more to me than some Cup!"

"You can borrow your books," Ron started, but more and more people began glaring at him.

"Why don't you put them in their place?" Graham Montague asked. "I mean, you had no problem burning Flint's hand, so why not them?"

"They're his siblings, you dolt," Daphne gave him an icy look.

"So it is his fault," Graham scoffed. "Weasley would rather hurt us than his precious Gryffindors! He has no problem terrorizing this House, but when push comes to shove, he wants to hide in here like a bitch!"

"Have you even spoken to them?" a fourth year asked.

"I have, and they won't relent," Ron replied. "I'm not their keeper, and I can't force them to stop. These two don't take well to threats, and if I piss them off, you'll all pay the price."

"Fuck off, Weasley," some annoyed sixth year said. "We're not going to hide in here for your benefit."

"It's for our benefit," Samantha said firmly. "And you will do as you are told. Do you want to be targeted? Fine, go right ahead. I promise you, the twins won't care about your age or gender. They don't see things that way. Either we stay united and win, or we fall apart and lose."

"Professor Snape would want us to win," Carey followed up. "He might not be here, but his lessons are with us! We don't rely on brute strength, we use cunning and tactics!"

"And the best tactic right now is to avoid trouble," Ron said firmly.

"Trouble that your siblings want to start!" Flint said loudly. "What about the Quidditch Team?! Do we just stop practicing because you said so?!" People began speaking to each other loudly, while also shooting frowns in his direction. Ron listened to their increasingly louder voices, he watched their angry glares, and something snapped in his head.

"Enough!" Ron yelled, and a nearby bookshelf all but exploded. The entire room went dead silent, and Ron's eyes moved between each member. "You are all so fucking stupid! You want to win, but none of you want to put in the effort! All you do is complain, and then boast when people like me earn you the win! You all want to hate me?! Fine! Fucking despise me all you want! But you will do as I say, and if you don't, I will show you terror!"

Something warm began to trickle out of Ron's nose, and people gasped loudly. Even Ron's friends had gone wide-eyed, while the Triumvirate seemed to be holding their breaths. Ron adorned an almost feral look, he genuinely wanted to hurt these morons right now.

"You…" Ron's head spun. "You will obey… Ssstay…" His vision blurred again, and those pesky black spots returned to taunt him. "Winning is hard… Put some effort…" Ron leaned against the wall to his right. I can't feel my legs…

He felt his friends circling him, with Blaise and Theo trying to help him stand.

"Ron?" Theo whispered in a panicked voice, but Ron just looked around with a furrowed brow.

"Hospital Wing…" came Blaise's distorted voice, and Ron suddenly felt life rush into him again. Not yet, Ron. You have to finish what you started. He stopped them from pulling him along, and as he raised his head, he towered over his worried friends.

"He really is sick," someone said, but Ron ignored them.

"The rumors are true…"

Ron wiped the blood off of his upper lip with his left hand, and he gave his House-mates a resolute look.

"The next month is going to be harder than we expected, but we will push on," Ron said, his breathing was still erratic. "We will win the House Cup, and we will offer it to Professor Snape." To my friend… "Are you with me, or against me?" No one said anything, they were clearly too jarred by his outburst. "You can blame me for the twins… You can throw insults at me… You can sneer and hiss in my direction… But I will not lose. I don't lose! Tomorrow morning, breakfast will be served in the common room. If you're not here, then you can fend for yourself."

With that, Ron began to head for the exit, he clearly needed Pomfrey. His friends followed after him, including Malfoy. Ron managed five steps outside before he started swaying again, but his mates steadied him. Both Blaise and Theo had firm grips on him, while the girls trailed after them.

"Ron?" Daphne moved in front of him, her eyes scanning his face. "Ron? Talk to me. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine…" Ron mumbled. "Just fine…"

"He needs Pomfrey," Malfoy said, he was worried despite his dislike of Weasley.

"Stop," Ron said. "Let me down…"

Blaise and Theo helped him down onto the steps, but they didn't let go of his arms. Ron just stared at his own lap, his brain had convinced him that the World was changing forms around him.

"Is he alright?" Clara rushed out of nowhere. "And why aren't you taking him up to Pomfrey?"

"Just give us a second," Blaise frowned at her, and then he kneeled down by Ron's side. "Ron… Talk to me, brother. Why are we sitting here?"

"My head is spinning," Ron whispered. "Just stop…. Stop moving, and stop talking…" While Ron tried to steady his breathing, the others exchanged scared looks.

"Clara, go back to the common room," Pansy broke the silence. "Help your friends convince the House." Clara just stared at Ron, he had never seen her look so worried. "Please, Clara. We can take care of him." Clara gave Pansy a quick look, and then she left for the common room.

"Enough sitting around," Millie said. "Let's just take him up there."

"He'll vomit if we move him too much," Tracey said. "Wait… Use the Locomotor Charm. C'mon, let's go."

---

Twenty Minutes Later

Ron could hear them outside. He lay in his hospital bed, his mind was muddled and his body had lost its strength. Pomfrey had made him drink some foul concoction, and Ron's mind had become dull because of it. As it turned out, Ron's brain was inflamed due to severe stress and exhaustion, and truth be told, he should've seen this coming. He was working himself to death, and unsurprisingly, Death had noticed.

"I'm sorry, but you can't disturb him," came Pomfrey's voice. "He just needs his rest. He will rejoin you all tomorrow."

"But his nose was bleeding," Daphne said, and Ron turned his head towards his curtains. "Please, can't I see him for a moment?"

"His nose was bleeding due to Hypertension," Pomfrey told them. "High Blood Pressure, that is. You may see him tomorrow, when he is fully rested. Now, all of you need to leave. It is past curfew, and I need to make sure that he sleeps."

He heard his friends whispered, but then they all began to shuffle out. Pomfrey entered through the curtains, a frown on her face.

"Still awake?" Pomfrey shook her head, and Ron just stared at her. "Ronald… Never in my life have I met a patient who can't seem to grasp common sense. Even the mentally insane understand self-preservation, but you… You are intent on killing yourself."

Ron didn't say anything, instead, he just looked away from her. She stood there for a few moments, and then after letting out a tired sigh, she left him alone. She'll never understand… I can't turn off. I've forgotten how to stop. Ron closed his eyes, his mind wandering towards Snape. Why hasn't he woken up yet? Is he in a coma? The thought tightened his heart, and Ron felt his eyes burn.

Despite the man's coldness, and his harsh insults, Ron found himself missing the Potions Master terribly. The fact that the entire House was crumbling without his presence proved just how important Snape was to them all, and to someone like Ron, Snape was more than just important. Even in his coldness, Snape had been there for him. The man wasted every Tuesday teaching Ron, a thickheaded moron, the art of Occlumency. And I'm finally getting somewhere with it. He's the only reason why.

"You must truly love these beds, Ronald," came Dumbledore's voice, and Ron looked back to the curtains. The Headmaster was smiling at him, though it wasn't a happy smile.

"You must truly love creeping up on young boys," Ron stated, and Dumbledore held back a laugh. "Why are you here, Headmaster?"

"I came for a Sleeping Draught," Dumbledore admitted. "But then, I sensed your presence."

"My presence?" Ron cocked a wobbly eyebrow.

"The smell of rotten eggs, to be exact," Dumbledore teased, and then he walked up and sat down by Ron's side. "Quite a putrid smell, if I'm being honest."

"Careful," Ron smirked. "I'll stick Madam Pomfrey on you."

"Now that would be a shame," Dumbledore smiled his kind smile. "I can't imagine that there are many Headmasters who have been murdered by their Hospital Matrons."

"Another record for you to break," Ron smiled weakly. "You need a Sleeping Draught?"

"Severus usually provided me with one," Dumbledore replied.

"So you're just like us…" Ron chuckled mirthlessly. "You depended on him, and now that he's gone, everything's turned to shite." Dumbledore stared at Ron for a few moments, and then he moved himself to the edge of Ron's bed.

"What's brought you here, my boy?" Dumbledore asked gently, his palm resting on Ron's forehead. "You're burning."

"Brain Inflammation," Ron replied, and Dumbledore pulled his hand back. "I'm being torn apart, Headmaster…" Piece by piece, I'm just dying.

"And what is tearing you apart?" Dumbledore asked.

"Me," Ron replied, his eyes turning droopy. "I can't stop… I can't stop…" My head… What did she give me?

"I see," Dumbledore all but whispered. "May I tell you a secret?"

"Go right ahead," Ron stared at him.

"I fear that my insomnia has returned," Dumbledore sighed. "Foul images invade my dreams, and sleep has become my enemy."

"I'm not surprised," Ron admitted. "You have heavy bags under your eyes. You look even older than usual."

"Not one to mince your words, are you?" Dumbledore smiled a little. "I respect that about you, Ronald. You no longer allow norms to hold you back."

"Yes, I'm to be envied…" Ron's head dropped back onto his pillow. "Lord Ronald Weasley… A piece of shite who is hated by his entire Family…" Dumbledore's expression softened, and he took Ron's left hand. "I wish I was never born… I wish that I would just cease to exist… I wish my friend was still here…"

His vision darkened, and the last thing he saw was Dumbledore's sorry expression.

---

Lucius Malfoy's POV

Monday 23rd November, 1993 (Malfoy Manor – Night)

He moved through his destroyed Ancestral Home, his eyes lingering on the charred and bloody corpses. Everything that his forefathers had built was in ruins, and despite being a grown man, his heart ached at the sight of this destruction.

His Elves had taken him to Nott Manor, even though he had screamed and resisted in a mad attempt to save Narcissa. His love had been taken by Kreacher, the Black Family's House-Elf, and Lucius had been powerless to stop it. The Elves had chosen to save their Master over their Mistress, and Lucius wanted nothing more than to trade places. She deserved better than to be a hostage, and every moment without her felt like a lifetime.

He wanted the Dark Lord gone, he could no longer deny it. Peace had softened him, but he didn't care. He wasn't a young man anymore, and although he despised the lesser beings, he valued his Family's safety more than his beliefs. He shuddered to think of his son's predicament, and although he'd never admit it, he wanted Draco far away from his Master.

Unfortunately, Gaspard had saved the Dark Lord from certain destruction, and both of them were currently seeking refuge in Nott Manor. Gaspard's children had returned to their father, and Lucius suspected that he was connected to them telepathically. That monster was full of surprises, but for now, he was out of the fight. His children had told them that Gaspard had gone into a 'slumber', and that he would not awaken for weeks. The last Lucius had seen of him, he was tied up to several blood bags, his body skinless and crippled by his transformation. It had been a disgusting sight, and neither Lucius nor Cornelius could stomach it.

As for the Dark Lord, he had killed Lucius' Elves in a fit of rage. After that, he had forbidden Lucius from giving them away. Lucius' only job now was to fix up his estate, and then offer it back to the Dark Lord. Lucius had, of course, agreed to his Master's demands, despite the Dark Lord's weakened state. From what Lucius had gathered, the Dark Lord's vessel was rotting from the inside out. Dumbledore had done a number on the Dark Lord's 'invincibility', and Lucius was glad for it. He despised the old wizard, but it felt good to see the Dark Lord suffer. Just as Severus suffered.

Lucius found himself standing in his son's destroyed room, his eyes scanning the clutter. They stopped on a Dragon plushy, a toy that Draco used to cuddle as he slept. He was so small back then. Lucius leaned down and picked up the slightly charred toy, he didn't know that Draco had kept his old toy. He told me that he threw it away. It was days after I scolded him for sleeping with it. His grip tightened on the toy, and he pulled it into his chest. Why did I do that to him? He was only five.

Lucius sat down on his son's damaged bed, the toy still close to his heart. This attack felt so… different. Dumbledore was not one for such bold actions, the old wizard was subtle in his manipulations. The Dark Lord is right. Someone else's hand was behind this. This destruction comes from someone far more dangerous than Dumbledore. But who? Who would push Dumbledore to such action? Mad-Eye? No… They are all followers. Someone else has appeared, and this is the result.

In truth, Lucius was glad that he had been banished to his ruined home. He wanted to be away from his crazed Master. Let Cornelius beg at that madman's feet, I want nothing to do with him. Despite Severus' clear betrayal, Lucius had still fought for his young friend. And now, he didn't even know if the man was alive. Draco will be devastated, he adores Severus.

What was he supposed to do without his wife and son? A part of him wanted to surrender to the Order, just so they would throw him in the same cell as Narcissa. At least then, I'll be by her side, which is where I belong. And yet, he knew that would never happen. Instead, they'd be kept apart, and Lucius would lose the opportunity to get her back. Since when does Dumbledore take prisoners? None of this makes any sense! Who is whispering into the old loon's ears?!

Lucius buried his face into his son's toy, and he breathed in the burnt smell. There were still hints of Draco's scent, and that made the burning sensation in his nostrils worth it. Where will he go? What am I supposed to tell him? Who will he blame for this ruin? Lucius knew the answer to the last question. He will blame me, and I would deserve it. My past has destroyed everything that I've built, and now she's gone too. Once again, he was tempted to surrender himself to the Order.

"You sought war, Lucius," he whispered to himself. "Here is your prize."

At that, he stood up. He would meet Dumbledore at this Gala, and demand that his wife be returned. And failing that, he'd demand that Draco be sent to her. He will not have my son as well. Draco will not die because of my past.

---

Severus Snape's POV

In the Dead of Night

He woke up slowly, and pain seized him immediately. It was everywhere, and the darkness seemed to be smothering him. Snape gasped for air, his right eye burning due to panic and desperation. He couldn't die yet. His promise was unfulfilled, and there was a war to win.

"Help…" Snape managed, his voice was torn to pieces. "Help… me…"

He tried to move his body, but it refused to respond to his will. That's when he felt a fabric covering half of his face, and he reached to move it away. Instead of a hand, a stub landed on his face. For a moment, he was bewildered, but then his memories flooded his mind. His hand was gone, wasn't it? His hand, his wand, his eye, his legs… Snape had died in that Dungeon, and only his corpse had been rescued.

A painful sound, which was akin to a child being born, escaped his throat. He was now as ugly as his soul, and there was nothing to be done about it. No misguided hope for redemption, and no shield to hide behind. The World would see him for what he truly was. A monster.

And then, light flooded the room. His right eye burned with pain, and he shut it as tightly as he could.

"Get Madam Pomfrey, Sirius!" came a woman's voice. "Go! Tell her that he's awake!" Snape heard heavy footsteps running away, and not long after, a soft hand caressing his scarred face. "You're safe, Severus. You're safe. No one will harm you anymore."

He didn't believe those words, but for now, he would cling to them as if they were gospel.

---

AUTHOR'S NOTES: And there it is! Snape is back (Partly), Ron is spent, and Dumbledore needs a nap. The True Triumvirate is wearier than ever, and the week just started.

Next Chapter will have the Gala, I promise.

See you on Wednesday!