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.

97. Chapter 97 - A Growing Weed

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Chapter 97 is here! Sorry for the week-long wait, but some stuff came up on my side. It's been dealt with, for now, and I'm back. Without further ado...

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 97 – A Growing Weed

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 28th November, 1993 (The Gala – Night)

"Madam Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic," the squat woman almost giggled, and then she put her right hand forward. Umbridge? Isn't that the woman that I apparently murdered? Bloody hell, it's good to finally put a face to the name. Speaking of which, didn't she create that Werewolf Legislation?

Ron took a step forward, took her right hand into his, and then he kissed her knuckles. Merlin, her perfume is so overwhelming. It's too sweet, and as a result, it smells vile.

"Weasley, Ronald Weasley," Ron introduced himself the proper way, making sure to put on a smile. Yeah, I'll vomit if I stay near her too long. That perfume is doing my head in.

"A pleasure to finally meet you," Umbridge 'smiled' at him, which served to make her look even more toad-like.

"Senior Undersecretary, you say?" Lord Fawley asked, and Umbridge puffed up a little. "You've been promoted."

"The Minister himself chose me, Lord Fawley," Umbridge said sweetly, though she looked a bit displeased at being interrupted. And yet, she interrupted our conversation with an obnoxious 'cough'. "I am to work directly under Cornelius himself." Did she just emphasize the man's name in order to show that she's 'friends' with him? I already don't like this woman. Something about her feels off to me.

"I see that your Legislation caught the Minister's attention," Arthur said, and Ron could tell that his father was putting up a kind demeanor.

"Cornelius rewards hard work, Arthur," Umbridge giggled, leaving the implication unspoken. This bitch… "Speaking of which…" she looked to Ron. "Do you have a moment to talk, Mr. Weasley?"

"I am actually having a conversation with Lord and Lady Fawley right now," Ron replied, deciding to not disrespect the Fawleys by walking away mid-conversation. "But I promise that I will come and find you right after."

"Then perhaps I can join your conversation?" Umbridge smiled even more widely, her tone slightly condescending.

"Of course," Lady Fawley said, while John cocked an eyebrow at Umbridge.

"Which Legislation did you enact, Madam Umbridge?" John asked, and she gave him an almost quizzical look. "It's just that I haven't heard your name before?"

"You clearly don't read the Daily Prophet, then," Umbridge giggled, sounding rather condescending once again. "Aren't children so sweet? They live such carefree lives, and don't even bother keeping up with the news." Well, I do, and I really don't like you from what I've read. You're stepping on people's throats in order to elevate yourself within the Ministry. "Is this your son, Lord Fawley?"

"Yes…" Lord Fawley replied, he didn't like this woman's tone one bit.

"Fawley, Johnathon Fawley," John introduced himself.

"Well, Johnathon, I enacted the Werewolf Legislation, which serves to protect wizards and witches from those horrible beasts," Umbridge told John, who nodded slowly. Horrible beasts?

Ron couldn't help but think of Remus, and judging by Molly and Arthur's annoyed features, they too had taken offence by her words. Yeah, I don't like this bitch. She'll need to be dealt with eventually, I can already tell.

"Werewolves are people, just like us," Arthur spoke up, unable to stomach the insult to his friend. "If anything, we should be helping them, not hunting them." He used to be scared of Werewolves, much like myself, until he met Remus, and now, he's fighting for all Werewolves. All it takes is the right push.

Umbridge blinked at Arthur, her smile trembling for a moment. Ron got the impression that she was trying to mask her disgust at Arthur's words with kindness, but she was failing miserably.

"But I am helping them," Umbridge said almost breathlessly, a confused chuckle escaping her mouth. "They are a danger to everyone around them, but I am taking the danger out of the equation altogether. Those who hire the Werewolves will also provide them with the Wolfsbane Potion, which benefits all parties involved."

"Except no shop-keeper can afford such an expensive Potion every month," Arthur countered, and his wife nudged him. He's getting a little too heated. This is still a party, dad.

"That is hardly my fault, now, is it?" Umbridge smiled at Arthur, who looked less than pleased with her tone. "Children, like John here, deserve to grow up in a danger-free World, and whether you like it or not, Werewolves are immensely dangerous. Don't you agree, Lord Fawley?" This is turning into a controversial conversation… I hope no one asks for my opinion on the matter, mostly because I don't want to make enemies.

"Well… They are quite dangerous," Lord Fawley admitted, and John nodded along. Wow. "I mean, many of them are vagabonds, are they not?" That's just a stereotype, one that the Daily Prophet spreads around.

"Exactly," Umbridge laughed sweetly, while the Weasleys exchanged looks. "The Ministry is trying its best to help them, but they are nothing but ungrateful. I would go as far as to blame this crime epidemic on them as well. Have you seen the streets, Lord and Lady Fawley?" Both Fawleys shook their heads. "Take my advice, and stay away from Diagon Alley. Beggars and thieves have taken to the corners, and they make running errands an absolute chore." Chore? These are people that you're talking about.

"Shouldn't the Ministry pay these shop-keepers enough to buy the Wolfsbane Potion?" John asked, and everyone looked to him. "This Legislation could help the Werewolves, but only if they are getting some securities from the Ministry." You're damn right, John, but the Ministry won't hand over a single Knut for the Werewolves. They are just keen on looking busy.

"That would be hugely expensive, son," Lord Fawley said, while Umbridge just smiled at John. "Not to mention that the Ministry is struggling right now-"

"The Ministry remains strong," Umbridge cut in, and even Ron found that to be extremely rude. "We are in control of everything, Johnathon, and you have nothing to worry about. You should enjoy your childhood, and not think too much on Legislations and such." You mean that he shouldn't question your idiocy just because you're an adult?

"Ronald, what do you think of the Werewolf Legislation?" Lady Fawley asked, and Ron hid his displeasure. I fucking knew it. Now I have to piss off one of these parties. If I give my genuine opinion, this Umbridge woman will be insulted, but if I lie to appease her, my parents will be shocked and angered. Not to mention that if I try and sit on the fence, I'll look weak and irresolute. Damn it.

"Personally, I don't find this Legislation to be helpful," Ron admitted, deciding to stay true to his beliefs. If she has a problem with how I see things, then she can fuck right off. I'm not going to lie to appease anyone, especially not someone who sees starving people as 'chores'. Plus, she called Remus a 'Horrible beast'.

Umbridge blinked at Ron repeatedly, while his parents smiled a little to themselves. As for the Fawleys, they were waiting for Ron to build upon his claim. In for a Knut, in for a Galleon, I suppose. Maybe I can help the Fawleys understand why the stigma against Werewolves is idiotic at best, and hostile at worst.

"Growing up, I was constantly told to be wary of Werewolves," Ron told the Fawleys. "And as such, I didn't really see them as people. But over the last two years, I've learnt to be more understanding of people's situations before judging them."

"Judging them?" Umbridge gasped. "No one is judging them here, Mr. Weasley." Really?

"You called them horrible beasts not five minutes ago," Ron reminded her, his tone becoming a little to firm.

Ron then looked back to the Fawleys.

"Werewolves are very much like us, Lord Fawley, I truly believe that," Ron told the man, who cocked an eyebrow at him. "Strategically speaking, this Legislation does not help the Ministry in the long run."

"Really? Is that so?" Umbridge asked with forced sweetness, something shifting behind her eyes. Yeah, she's pissed. Fuck it.

"It is no secret that the Werewolf Community feels abandoned by the Ministries," Ron started, making sure to keep his tone civil. "This Legislation makes it impossible for them to find work within the Magical World, unless they work directly under the rich, Pure-Blood Families, most of whom despise Werewolves on principle-"

"That has never been proven," Umbridge chuckled at the Fawleys, who were now listening to Ron.

"And yet, it's true," Ron shot her a quick look. "Let's not hide from the truth when it comes to sensitive matters, it only serves to stall the conversation." And don't interrupt me, you cunt. "This Legislation has put them all out of jobs, which in turn has led them to desperation. Tell me, Lord Fawley, if your Family was starving, and you had no means of putting food on the table, what would you do?"

"That is a hypothetical scenario created specifically to entice a certain kind of answer," Umbridge interrupted again, her bulging eyes were fixed on Ron.

"Is it hypothetical, though?" Ron asked her. "I mean, as you said, so many Werewolves are turning to crime, right?" She blinked at him again, while Ron looked to the Fawleys. "Lord Fawley?"

"I may turn to crime as well, I suppose…" Lord Fawley admitted slowly. "But only to help my Family."

"Which is a noble thing," Ron smiled at Lord Fawley. "But at the end of the day, people would call you a vagabond. They wouldn't even think about your intentions, or how you got to such a state. No… Instead, they would judge you harshly and then turn from you." Ron then drew in a deep breath. "Werewolves are people, just like us wizards and witches, but their lot in life is decided for them by people who don't even know them. This creates a divide between us, which is only made larger when a Legislation passed by the Wizarding Ministry throws the Werewolves out of their jobs."

"So, is it any wonder why they seem 'ungrateful'?" Ron looked to Umbridge, who had gone eerily quiet. "There is a good reason why we Wizards are hated by the other Magical Communities, and it's not because they're ungrateful, it's because we Wizards don't treat others with enough respect. We steal lands from the Centaurs, and then ship them off to zoo-like colonies. We constantly try to steal from the Goblins, who have hated us for centuries due to our subjugation of their race. And now, we are making it impossible for Werewolves to get jobs within the Magical World. Sooner or later, people get tired of being kicked around, and that results in rebellion."

"I had no idea that my son was so educated on the matter," Molly chuckled nervously, Ron was nearly unrecognizable right now. Not educated, I'm just not bias against people of different backgrounds. I mean, I'm a Weasley who's in Slytherin… People have judged me negatively for just that.

"This, of course, is just my opinion," Ron told everyone, his tone lighter now. "I think that we should first treat the Werewolves with respect, and then work with them to create Legislations that benefit both parties. The current Legislation has only benefited the Ministry, while the Werewolves have been left to fend for themselves."

"I never thought about it that way…" Lord Fawley said slowly. "Perhaps we can open a shelter for these people, love?"

"That would at least get them off the streets," Lady Fawley agreed, much to Ron's joy. See, Ron? People are good, and they just need the proper push. This proves that if my Quibbler reports on actual issues, then more people will help out.

"A shelter?" Umbridge giggled, making Ron almost shudder with how forced it sounded. "Forgive me for thinking this, but are you suggesting that we reward them for their unruly behavior? What sort of example does that set?"

"A proper one," Molly said, but Umbridge was only looking at Ron.

"I agree with my mother," Ron told Umbridge. "Someone has to put the right foot forward, and this Legislation has only served to make the Werewolf Community even more wary of the Ministry."

"Is that what you meant by this Legislation not working in the long run?" John asked, and Ron gave his first year a nod.

"Right now, this Legislation only serves the Ministry," Ron explained. "The people see it in the Daily Prophet, and decide that the Ministry is actually doing something… They don't think about the consequences of such a Law ten years from now. The more we ostracize a certain group of people, the more problems we create for the Future. These Werewolves are degrading their souls by committing petty crimes just to survive, and eventually, they'll rise against the Ministry."

"Rise against the Ministry?" Umbridge looked appalled. "Surely, and please correct me if I'm wrong, you are not suggesting that the Ministry is at fault for everything wrong in the World?"

"Don't twist my words," Ron said bluntly, something that Umbridge was hardly used to. "I am simply stating that your Legislation will not work to anyone's favor in the long run." Except for you, of course, but you already know that.

"If the Werewolves leave the Magical World in order to find work in the Muggle World, won't the chance of them being discovered increase exponentially?" John asked Ron. "I mean, them being discovered is bad for us all, isn't it?" He's definitely the clever Fawley, which is why he was put in Slytherin.

"Exactly," Ron patted John's back, who seemed quite pleased to add to the conversation. "We are creating problems for ourselves simply because we refuse to see Werewolves as living, breathing human beings, who, much like us, have responsibilities to their Families. Now… I won't say that all Werewolves are misunderstood people, because some of them have given into their bestial nature, but I will also point out that our own history is filled with bloody-minded people. A few bad apples shouldn't ruin the entire batch, right?"

"No," Lord Fawley agreed.

"Then we shouldn't label all Werewolves as vagabonds, not until we try our best to help our fellow man," Ron smiled at the man. "This shelter that you just proposed, Lord Fawley… I would love to report on it, free of charge."

"You'll advertise without asking for a fee?" Lord Fawley asked. I don't want money, I want you to help people.

"Consider it a favor between friends," Ron said, and Lord Fawley gave him a nod.

"The Ministry, of course, will provide you with aid, Lord Fawley," Umbridge said, her voice no longer sweet. Yeah, she's so pissed off right now. If I die tonight, put her in Azkaban. "Now… If you'll excuse me, I think I just saw Cornelius looking for me." Ha! Really? That's your best excuse?

With that, Umbridge turned around and left to find more fitting company.

"I don't think she likes you much," Lady Fawley smiled at Ron.

"I'm sure I'll live," Ron chuckled. "Her Legislation is idiotic, and it needed to be called out. I hope my views didn't offend you in any way."

"No, quite the opposite, really," Lord Fawley said, he sounded quite pleased. "It's refreshing to talk to such a passionate young man."

"Thank you," Ron smiled, and his parents mimicked him. "You should speak to Lady Longbottom about this shelter. She's an Eternal Friend of mine, and if you tell her that this idea came up in a conversation with me, she'll no doubt help you."

"Then we'd best go and find her," Lord Fawley smiled, he understood that the boy was now pushing to see this happen. "It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Weasley."

"Likewise, my Lord," Ron said.

"And thank you for helping John," Lady Fawley added.

"See you later, Ron," John gave him a parting nod, which Ron returned.

Once the Fawleys had left, Ron turned to face his astonished parents.

"Mum? Dad?" Ron eyed them. "Why are you staring at me?"

"We're just a little… surprised…" Molly replied, and Ron blinked at her.

"Surprised by what?" Ron asked them.

"You," Arthur admitted. "The way you just spoke then… And the Fawleys… They now plan to open up a shelter for the homeless…"

"Well, the Fawleys are quite the charitable lot," Ron said. "I mean, they just recently worked with Lady Longbottom, and the Shafiq Family, to open up a Dragon Reserve in Britain. Didn't Charlie tell you about that?"

"He did, but it's just…" Molly started, but then she stopped. "Ron, you just helped a great deal of people."

"And?" Ron asked, where were they going with this?

"And that doesn't sound like a big deal to you?" Arthur asked, since when was Ron so… tactical?

"It's why we're here, though," Ron gave them a confused look. "We're here to make a change…"

His parents seemed to be taken aback by his reply, which only confused Ron even more.

"What else would we be here for?" Ron asked them.

"To enjoy the Gala?" Molly suggested slowly.

"Enjoy the Gala?" Ron cocked both eyebrows. "Mum… We're here to make alliances, and to promote our own Political Views. It's why I even stopped to speak to the Fawleys… They share most of our beliefs, which makes us natural allies against the other Families."

"Pardon?" Arthur asked. "What other Families? Ron, we don't really take part in the whole 'Sacred Twenty-Eight' nonsense."

"We do now," Ron told his father. "The mere fact that we're here makes us targets. Families like the Fawleys, or the Longbottoms, will act as our shields against Families like the Rowles, or the Selwyns. Plus, this 'Sacred Twenty-Eight nonsense' is what you have to put up with if you want to make genuine change. These Families hold a majority of the country's wealth, and they are well-connected. It's them who run Magical Britain, not the Ministry."

"They bribe and corrupt the system, you mean," Arthur sighed out.

"The system is filled with corruptible people," Ron shrugged. "Just look at that Umbridge woman… She runs a vindictive Legislation through the Wizengamot, and most of them support her because they share her beliefs. Merlin, they even promoted her for her 'ingenuity' in regards to attacking an already disliked group of people. No one cares about the poor sods who are losing everything, certainly not the Ministry."

"So we're here to bring attention to such matters?" Molly asked, and Ron gave a slow nod.

"Sort of," Ron said. "We're here to find likeminded people, and then to ally ourselves with them. We don't have the wealth, but we have the Name. That's how we Weasleys can help improve this country, and to make it far more tolerant. And sure, we'll make some enemies along the way, but we'll also make new friends. Friends like the Greengrass Family, or the Davis Family."

"We did become friends with Sebastian and Mary because Ron was involved," Arthur reminded his wife, who just shook her head clear.

"Merlin, I'm regretting not listening to my mother's lectures now," Molly told them.

"Don't feel any pressure, mum," Ron rubbed her arm. "Just make new friends, and it'll be fine. I'll worry about the Alliances, and other such matters."

"No, we'll do our part," Molly assured him, which took him by surprise. "I won't tell you what to do anymore, Ron, but I will be there to watch over you no matter what. We'll share the load with you." Huh? Wait… I told dad that they 'hinder me' more than they 'help me', and he must've told her.

"Right," Ron said a little awkwardly, and then he patted his mother's arm. "Thank you. That helps me immensely." So they'll just help me now? Weird… And suspicious.

"Don't be so surprised, son," Arthur smiled a little.

"No, I'm not…" Ron started, but then he thought his words through. "I just expected some… resistance… I know that you two don't like this sort of behavior, so I'm just really glad that we're on the same page for once."

"We'll never stop worrying about you, Ron, but we are also capable of making mistakes," Arthur told him. "Our way didn't exactly work…" No, it most certainly did not.

"So we'll do things your way," Molly added, and Ron fought the urge to gape at her. "Just for now, that is. The moment you start putting your health at risk, we will-"

"Ahem," Arthur cleared his throat, and then he gave his wife an odd look. Was she about to go off on a tangent again?

"Well…" Ron looked between his parents, he didn't know what to say. "Right, then… Let's separate and mingle, shall we?" Is that why they agreed to keep Ginny subdued? Wait… Where is she?

"Oh, Sebastian was looking for you," Arthur reminded Ron. "He was also asking after his daughter." Oh, no… I haven't been by Daphne's side since Dumbledore took me away.

"I'll go find him soon," Ron told his father. First, I need to find Blaise. "By the way, where is Ginny?"

"She went home with Harry," Molly told him, and Ron nodded slowly. So she didn't even stay for the entire event… She won't see me get my new position. "She was feeling unwell." Don't lie on her behalf to make me feel better.

"Whatever," Ron shrugged off his hurt. "As long as she's not causing me trouble, I don't care where she is." Ron then spotted Madame Maxime approaching him from behind his parents, while his parents exchanged sorry looks. "Madame Maxime!"

"Ronald," Madame Maxime smiled at him.

Both Molly and Arthur turned to face the large woman, who was now towering over them.

"Merlin…" Molly stared up at Madame Maxime's face. Don't be rude.

"You must be Arthur and Molly Weasley, Ronald's parents," Madame Maxime greeted, she had clearly shrugged off Molly's reaction. "I am glad to have finally found you."

"Mum, dad, this is Madame Olympe Maxime," Ron introduced. "She is my friend and ally, and she has something to say to you both." Please just accept her apology.

"I wish to apologize for my actions during the last Junior League Chess Tournament," Madame Maxime apologized sincerely. "My actions hurt your son, and I have fully come to understand that. I am very sorry. Ronald and I have made-"

"His eyes were bleeding," Molly adorned a slightly angered look. "Was that not a clear enough sign of what your actions were doing to my son?" Mum… "A Subconjunctival Hemorrhage is what it took for you to realize your mistake?"

"Mum," Ron gave her a meaningful look, but Madame Maxime gestured him to stay quiet.

"She is right to be angry," Madame Maxime said, her head bowing a little. "I almost killed a young boy, and all for vanity. Please, Mrs. Weasley, continue." Fuck me… Can I leave then? My friend needs me.

"What would be the point?" Molly huffed, while Arthur just looked uncomfortable. Dad, control her. "We, as Ron's parents, can never forgive you for what you've done, but if Ron has befriended you, then Arthur and I expect you to pay off your dues. Even I understand that your partnership with Ron has benefited you far more than him, so I expect you to be loyal to my son."

"I can promise that," Madame Maxime said, and Molly gave her a curt nod.

"Arthur, let's go meet some new people," Molly said, and then she nearly dragged Arthur away. Yeesh, bye dad.

"Sorry about that…" Ron sighed out.

"No, it went better than I expected," Madame Maxime told him. "If I was a little shorter, your mother would've slapped me for certain. And I would deserve it."

"What's done is done," Ron said, he wasn't in the mood to listen to sad confessions. "All that matters now is our partnership, and the Future."

"Of course," Madame Maxime nodded, and then she shot quick looks around. What is it? "The French Families will be meeting the Order tomorrow."

"Where?" Ron leaned in.

"At the Order's Headquarters," Madame Maxime replied. "They are here to lend their aid, and so there won't be much to discuss. Albus, however, wanted me to inform you nonetheless."

"Really?" Ron asked.

"I met him a few minutes ago, and I spoke with him about our plans," Madame Maxime told Ron. "Once we were done, he asked me to inform you." He doesn't want me strolling into Grimmauld Place tomorrow. Fair enough, that would raise a lot of questions. "He also wanted me to tell you that he's waiting for you by the Gardens. He has a favor to ask."

"I understand," Ron nodded, now he couldn't go and find Blaise. I'll go over to Daphne, and tell her to take over. "I will go and find him. Goodbye for now, Madame Maxime."

"Take care, Ronald," Madame Maxime moved on, while Ron started walking over to Daphne.

He could see Pansy, Theo, and Millie speaking with the other guests nearby Daphne, but Blaise was nowhere to be seen. I get that he's upset, but running off is very unlike him. Along the way, Ron greeted passing guests, avoided running into excited children, and waved at a few Veela admirers. By the time he reached Daphne, she was shaking hands with Lady Donadieu.

"Le fléau de Vélane," Lady Donadieu smiled more widely at seeing him.

"Lady Donadieu, I see that you've met my girlfriend," Ron smiled at them, and Daphne turned to face him with her own smile. Oh, no. I know that smile. That's a fake smile! She's angry with me!

"I have indeed," Lady Donadieu chuckled merrily. "She is certainly beautiful."

"She is, and she's got her father's brain for business," Ron responded.

"I have noticed," Lady Donadieu shot Daphne a fond look, and then she bowed her head to Ron. "I must go and find my husband, please come and speak with us when you are free."

"I will," Ron promised, and Lady Donadieu left the children behind.

Once the French witch had disappeared into the crowd, Ron looked to Daphne with a sheepish smile.

"Where did you run off to, Ron?" Daphne huffed in indignation. "Father caught me lingering alone, and he gave me an earful."

"Sorry," Ron apologized. "I keep getting ambushed by people, Daph. I can't take five steps before someone corners me."

"I can understand that," Daphne huffed again, clearly still agitated with him. "But you and I are meant to be a team here, Ron. You can't just leave me behind like that." Well, I'm about to do it again.

"Right…" Ron said slowly, and Daphne blinked at him.

And then, she frowned deeply.

"You are planning to run off again, aren't you?" Daphne asked, and Ron grinned despite his feeling of guilt. "Fine… Go."

"Daph, don't be like that," Ron walked up to her side, his left hand rubbing her back gently.

"No, you can go and meet all the Veelas you want," Daphne said coldly, but Ron knew that she was just trying to mask her own jealousy. "Who am I to stop you?"

"Dumbledore wants to see me," Ron told her, and she rolled her eyes.

"Date him, then," Daphne huffed, and Ron had to hold back a snort. "I mean, he calls you over, and you abandon me without a moment's hesitation." Abandon is a strong word…

"We still have a lot of time together," Ron said softly, he didn't want to anger her right now by making jokes. "Once I've spoken to Dumbledore, I'll come and find you immediately. And I promise that I won't leave your side again."

"Promise?" Daphne shot him an icy look, and Ron leaned down pecked her lips. "Fine, Ron… But you better keep your word." She can't resist me.

"I also need your help," Ron smiled, and she cocked an eyebrow at him. "I saw Blaise run off before, and I've been trying to chase him down."

"Blaise ran off?" Daphne's anger vanished completely.

"His mother slept with Sirius, and then she left Blaise behind," Ron told Daphne, who just shook her head. "He looked quite bothered by her actions, and I'm not exactly sure why. I mean, he always acts like he doesn't care much about her."

"It's just one of his pet peeves," Daphne told Ron. "Trust me, this isn't the first time that she's pulled this stunt. She's been doing it since Blaise was a toddler."

"Can you look for him with the others?" Ron asked. "I need to see Dumbledore, not to mention that I can't roam around freely."

"Alright," Daphne looked to the others. "Come and find us when you're finished."

"Thank you," Ron gave her another kiss, and when her lips twitched upwards, Ron knew that she wasn't angry anymore. "I'll see you in a bit."

"If you find Blaise before us, tell him to come and find us," Daphne said as Ron began to leave for the Gardens, and he gave her a nod.

---

Ten Minutes Later

"Sorry for the delay, Headmaster," Ron approached the old man, who was looking over the Gardens from the marble veranda. "I've been talking to the other guests." More like getting ambushed.

"Think nothing of it," Dumbledore shot him a smile. "Come, join me."

Ron walked up to Dumbledore's right, and both of them gazed at the Gardens, which were now filled with wandering guests. I wonder where Emilia ran off to. I haven't seen her since our chat.

"Have you seen Harry?" Dumbledore finally broke the silence.

"He left," Ron replied, and Dumbledore looked to him for clarification. "Apparently, Ginny wasn't feeling too well, and they both went home. I'm guessing that Sirius is also gone."

"Did you see Sirius before he left?" Dumbledore asked.

"I did," Ron couldn't help but frown. "He left Harry alone in order to sleep with another guest."

"I see," Dumbledore all but whispered, his disappointment written on his face.

"He can be the biggest fucking moron when he wants," Ron said, and Dumbledore didn't disagree. "I mean, he left Harry in a Ballroom full of Death-Eaters, and he didn't even think of that."

"I will speak with him," Dumbledore assured Ron. "Sirius is undergoing a difficult change at the moment, so we must be patient."

"A difficult change?" Ron's ears perked up.

"Severus' sacrifice weighs heavily on Sirius," Dumbledore told Ron. "Sirius has always believed that those who walk a dark path should not be respected, but Severus, of all people, has challenged that. It just might be the push that Sirius needs in order to grow up."

"Right," Ron nodded, he hoped that Sirius would indeed grow up a little. "Madame Maxime told me that you had a favor to ask."

"I did, but seeing as Harry has left, I no longer need it," Dumbledore replied.

"What was the favor?" Ron asked out of curiosity.

"I wanted you to introduce Harry to the French Families," Dumbledore replied, and Ron blinked at him. "They have agreed to join the Order, as you know, and so I wanted them to get to know Harry a little."

"You mean you wanted them to swear fealty to the Boy-Who-Lived," Ron rolled his eyes, a pang of jealousy shooting up into his mind. "It's not like I brought them here…" I work my arse off, and Harry reaps the rewards. Just like with the Heir of Slytherin.

"Ronald," Dumbledore smiled at him. "Many of them are here to meet Harry, and you know that already." I know. Most of them asked me if Harry was in attendance tonight.

"Well, he's gone home," Ron said, making sure to keep his tone in check. "Harry isn't exactly a social person from what I've seen."

"He doesn't need to be," Dumbledore said. "Harry's name alone can inspire hope, which is why I wanted the French to meet him. His presence would have steeled their resolve, and made my job much easier."

"I'm sure you'll manage just fine tomorrow," Ron said, looking back to the Gardens. "Do you need anything else?" I should go look for Blaise now.

"No," Dumbledore replied, and Ron turned to leave. "Oh, I found a place for the Squib children, Ronald."

Ron stopped immediately, his eyes fixed on Dumbledore. Really?

"You did?" Ron asked. "That quickly?"

"The property is already in my name, but it is not being used," Dumbledore told Ron. "I will take you there after dinner tomorrow, and we can start planning on how it will function."

"Thank you, Headmaster," Ron gave a grateful nod. "Now I just need to convince Priscilla, and we can get them off the streets before Christmas."

"The sooner, the better," Dumbledore agreed. "Enjoy the rest of the Gala, Ronald."

"You too, Sir," Ron said, and then he left for the Ballroom.

As Ron neared the entrance, someone hissed at him in order to get his attention.

"Ronnie," came a whisper from his left, and Ron immediately frowned at the name.

He looked to his left, and he spotted Charlie and Kirsten standing behind a small hedge. What are they doing back there? Charlie gestured Ron to come over, and so Ron crossed over to their side.

"Charlie. Kirsten," Ron greeted, eyeing the two of them with a sharp gaze. "What are you two doing back here? The Gala is inside."

"Why were you just talking to Dumbledore?" Charlie asked, completely ignoring Ron's question.

"I wanted to compliment him on his robes," Ron drawled, and Kirsten smirked at him. "Now, why are you two sneaking around?"

"We're not sneaking around," Charlie snorted, and Ron just stared at them. Wait… Are they drunk? Kirsten's even swaying a little.

"Are you two drunk?" Ron asked.

"He caught us," Charlie grinned at Kirsten, who just giggled in response. "Sorry, little brother, but mum has been treating us like children. You know how she is… Anyway, Kirsten and I are just enjoying our night out."

"I've never been to a party like this one before," Kirsten told Ron. "Thank you for inviting me, Ron. You're a good lad."

"Think nothing of it," Ron said slowly, and then he looked to Charlie. "Just don't get caught by mum, or dad, and try to not embarrass the Weasley Name."

"See how he talks now?" Charlie laughed at Ron. "We will be on our best behavior, my Lord." Pardon?

"What did you just say?" Ron asked, his tone becoming less than friendly.

"Ignore him," Kirsten jumped in. "He's barely standing straight, and he's been talking nonsense for a while."

"You should enjoy the party, Ronnie," Charlie said, his face looked flushed. "Stop being so serious all the time."

"Again, please ignore him," Kirsten shot Charlie a frown, one that he completely missed due to his drunk state. "We won't get caught, I promise. I brought us here so we could hide out until Charlie is feeling more like himself again."

"Why did you get so drunk in the first place?" Ron asked her. "This is a Charity Event, not a tavern."

"Yeah… Things got out of hand," Kirsten gave a sorry smile. "We've been cooped up with your parents for too long, and we missed our freedom."

"We can't even have wine with dinner," Charlie scoffed to himself. "I'm a grown man, mum… I can have a glass of wine if I want." Wow.

"Just stay with him," Ron sighed, and then he turned to leave.

"Are you enjoying the Gala?" she asked, and Ron turned back around.

"In my own way," Ron replied, and she gave a slow nod.

"Well, if you get bored, you can always spend time with us," Kirsten offered.

"I'll keep that in mind," Ron said, though he had no intention of doing that. After Blaise is found, I need to meet some more Families.

"That means no," Charlie chuckled to himself, and Ron just stared at him. "What? I can't speak my mind?"

"Charlie, stop trying to start a fight," Kirsten glared at her boyfriend.

"Do you have something to say to me, Charlie?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, I do," Charlie suddenly got serious, though his eyes were still glazed over. "The twins… You really did set them up, didn't you?"

"This again…" Ron shook his head. "They've been tormenting me for years, but the first time I strike back, everyone is upset with me. Why is that?"

"Did you beat Fred up?" Charlie demanded.

"Charlie, now is not the time," Kirsten smacked his arm. "Leave your brother alone, he's clearly busy right now."

"Weasleys don't attack each other in front of the entire school," Charlie told Kirsten. "Ronnie clearly didn't get the memo."

"But it's alright for a 'grown man' to beat up his thirteen year old brother?" Ron asked icily, and Charlie blinked at him. "What? Did you think that I'd forget?"

"I apologized for that…" Charlie muttered. "And in my defense, you were being a cold-hearted bastard."

"Ron, you should just go," Kirsten advised. "Charlie becomes rather rude when he's drunk."

"I'm not being rude, I'm trying to talk to my brother," Charlie told her.

"No, Charlie, you're trying to start a confrontation," Kirsten sighed out. "Why don't you have this chat with Ron when you're not drunk?"

"Why did you attack Fred?" Charlie looked to Ron, deciding to ignore his girlfriend.

"He attacked me first," Ron replied. "Believe me, I let him off easy." Just ask Flint.

"See that?" Charlie looked to Kirsten. "See how he talks?! That's not Ronnie…"

"Just keep this idiot away from the other guests," Ron looked to Kirsten, and she gave him a nod.

"Idiot? Me?" Charlie scoffed. "You're the one who's pushing everyone away."

"Whatever," Ron decided to ignore Charlie's behavior. "Kirsten, please make sure that Charlie doesn't drink anymore."

"And now he's telling me what I can and can't do," Charlie chuckled in a scathing manner.

"I'll make sure of it, Ron," Kirsten promised, and Ron gave her a parting nod as he left for the Ballroom.

His run in with Charlie had left a bad taste in his mouth, but Ron was used to his Family finding faults with him. Plus, he was horribly drunk. It's best if I just ignore his behavior. I need to stay focused on the Gala, and finding Blaise.

"Mr. Weasley," Barnabas Cuffe stepped into his way as soon as he entered the Ballroom. FUCK! Just let me find my friend, you bastards.

"Mr. Cuffe," Ron put on a smile, and then he looked Barnabas over. Expensive looking silk Wizard Robes. "You look very stylish tonight. Did you just arrive?"

"I've been here for nearly half an hour," Barnabas replied. "Imagine my surprise at seeing so many French citizens amongst us." He knows that it's my doing, doesn't he? "It's unheard of."

"I see nothing wrong with having even more beautiful women to look at," Ron shrugged, and Barnabas chuckled.

"I suppose that is true as well," Barnabas said, his eyes darting back to the other guests. "However…" he trailed off.

"However?" Ron looked to him.

"Not everyone shares our enthusiasm for beautiful women," Barnabas told him. "Most of the people that I've spoken to tonight have voiced their anger with you." Word is spreading, then. Good.

"And who have you spoken to?" Ron asked.

"Just the usual rabble," Barnabas replied, he wasn't one to give away names. "They suspect the French to be making a move against our country, and you're the one who invited them in."

"So I am part of a conspiracy now?" Ron couldn't help but scoff. "I'm aiding the 'French invasion'?"

"They are a superstitious lot," Barnabas smiled. "Change is a threat to their way of life, and you're bringing a lot of change."

"And that change doesn't bother you?" Ron asked, his eyes scanning Barnabas' face. What do you really want from me, Barnabas Cuffe? Why do you keep finding ways to enter my life?

"Change means very little to a man like me," Barnabas replied. "I work for whoever is paying. Be that the British, or the French."

"You pride yourself on being disloyal?" Ron asked, and Barnabas blinked at him. "Well?"

Barnabas looked Ron over, a subtle smile still on his face. Did I offend you? I'm so sorry. After a few silent, and tense, moments, Barnabas chuckled in a rather scathing manner. What is this?

"You think you are better than most people, don't you?" Barnabas finally broke the silence.

"Pardon?"

"It's the way you speak," Barnabas clicked his fingers, a musing look on his face. "And how you look down at people while you speak. It must be quite intimidating for many, but to a man like me, it's a clear sign of narcissism."

"Petty insults?" Ron cocked an eyebrow. "Where is our usual banter?" What do you want from me, cunt? Speak your mind and sod off.

"As much as I enjoy our 'usual banter', I don't have time for it right now," Barnabas replied. "My reporters are being let into the Manor as we speak, and I came to warn you."

"Warn me of what?" Ron asked.

"Many of the British Families will speak out against you," Barnabas told him, and Ron listened intently. "They will spread lies, and attempt to defame you. They will resist the French, and keep their eyes fixed on you. Tonight, you have made far too many enemies."

"And friends," Ron added, their eyes locking.

"Your friends comprise of mostly foreigners," Barnabas told him. "After tonight, they will be watched as well. You need British allies, Ronald. You need someone like me, and as you already know, I need someone like you."

"This again?" Ron asked. "You still expect me to believe that you care about the country?"

"I care," Barnabas said gently. "In my own way, I do care. Things cannot continue as they are, not after recent disasters. I will not, however, pretend to be sanctimonious. Yes, I have my own ambitions, and yes, I love my wealth, but I also understand that if this country goes to the dogs, men like me won't keep our wealth and status." Ah… Now I see.

"You're scared," Ron smiled. "You don't know which way the wind is blowing, so you're trying to jump onto any ship that might float. If you and I become friends, then you'll have to deal with these 'nobles'. But if you side with them, then you remain as you are. Just a quill for their propaganda."

"And eventually, they will replace me," Barnabas nodded, much to Ron's surprise.

"Finally, some honesty," Ron said, and Barnabas just stared at him. "Well, I think that you are putting far too much thought into my character. I have no intention of destabilizing the Ministry, nor am I a puppet for the French. I have brought them here for the sole purpose of helping us, and then, to better our relationship with each other. There is no grand scheme at play, Mr. Cuffe. Nothing of the sort." Just business for the Order.

"You say that, but you have made tidal waves with this move," Barnabas said. "Perhaps even you don't understand the gravity of your own decisions, and if so, then you are indeed just a child playing at being a Politician." Another insult? Wow, I must have hit too close to home.

"You know what your problem is?" Ron asked rather politely.

"Pray tell," Barnabas smiled at him.

"You are just as narcissistic as I am," Ron said, and Barnabas feigned interest. "You keep involving yourself into my life, and I can't figure out why. Could it be that losing to a thirteen year old has vexed you?"

"Losing?" Barnabas chuckled.

"The Quibbler," Ron replied calmly. "I secured it from under you, hid from you until I decided to be caught, and I overcame your little ploy with the advertisement agencies. I beat you, and you went running to the Minister."

Barnabas blinked at him, his smug smile sliding off of his face.

"Yes, I know all about your tantrum," Ron grinned. "You have become fixated on me, and since you can't figure out my intentions, you keep interrupting my life. You offer your right hand in alliance, while you hold a rock in your left." Ron then drew in a deep breath. "Don't pretend to be my friend, not when you are only interested in maximizing your own gain."

"And what of your gain?" Barnabas asked. "What do you gain from all of this?"

"There it is again," Ron shook his head. "You start prying into my business."

"You can't invite the French into Magical Britain without becoming a point of fixation, Mr. Weasley," Barnabas told him. "At least with me, you can still find an ally. But a man like Lucius Malfoy… He will destroy you."

"He can try," Ron said. "I have faced far worse." Far, far worse.

"More mystery?" Barnabas smirked. "You truly are so very fascinating. Now I know why Rufus Scrimgeour wishes to have you followed." Wait… What did he say?

"Rufus Scrimgeour wishes to have me followed?" Ron asked.

"I have my connections, Mr. Weasley," Barnabas responded casually. "Consider my warning a gift of good faith. Now… Please enjoy your evening, and know that our deal still stands." He won't defame me, or The Quibbler, in the Daily Prophet, but only as long as I repay him the same courtesy.

Barnabas Cuffe left with a smile on his face, while Ron slowly looked around the Ballroom. And that is when Ron saw Rufus Scrimgeour watching him from near the stage, the Head Auror's yellow eyes were fixed on Ron. He's been watching me all night? Ron's stomach tightened, but he didn't show any weakness. Instead, he smiled at the Head Auror, who cocked an eyebrow at him. No more shady dealings for tonight, I think.

---

Rufus Scrimgeour's POV

Saturday 28th November, 1993 (The Gala – Night)

"Head Auror, Sir," Dawlish stopped to his right, and Rufus looked away from the Weasley boy.

"John, what is your report?" Rufus asked.

"Daphne Greengrass has offered Emilia Travers a business deal," Dawlish reported. And Lady Travers accepted, didn't she? "Emilia Travers accepted the deal with very little negotiation on her part."

"Is that so?" Rufus asked.

"She looked shaken, Sir," Dawlish replied.

"Shaken?"

"There was sweat on her brow, and her hand was clamping down on the hilt of her sword," Dawlish explained. "She has been like that ever since her Garden stroll with Ronald Weasley."

"How odd," Rufus said to himself. "Anything else, John?"

"Daphne Greengrass has been making advances on all the French Families, but so far, only Emilia Travers has given her word," Dawlish told him. "The rest of the French Families are still considering her propositions."

"He brings them in, and she gives them a reason to stay," Rufus frowned to himself, he truly did despise Pure-Bloods. Schemers… Every last one of them. "Stay near Daphne Greengrass, and don't get spotted."

"Understood, Sir," Dawlish gave a firm nod, and then he disappeared into the crowd.

Rufus looked back towards Ronald Weasley, only to find out that the boy had slipped away from his gaze. He's onto me. Did Barnabas Cuffe warn him? I wouldn't be surprised if he did, he's always playing some angle. Rufus began looking around the Ballroom, his eyes moving rapidly as they searched for red hair. Arthur Weasley, Molly Weasley, William Weasley… Where is Ronald Weasley?

"Rufus," came Amelia's voice from his right, and he stopped his search. "Looking for someone?"

"Amelia," Rufus looked to her. "Shouldn't you be with the Minister?"

"I decided to walk around for a bit," Amelia looked to the crowd. "Dolores Umbridge is with him right now…"

"Ah," Rufus nodded in understanding.

"Disgusting woman," they both said together.

"Did she say anything about Ronald Weasley?" Rufus asked. I saw her talking to the boy, and she left with a scowl.

"She did, actually," Amelia studied Rufus' face. "She claimed that Mr. Weasley believes the Ministry to be incompetent. I just figured that she was prying for more power, as usual. But now… You know something, don't you?"

"He spoke with her, and she left the conversation angry," Rufus replied, he saw no need to hide his investigation.

"You've been watching him?" Amelia frowned a little. "Rufus, I told you to stop."

"Respectfully, Amelia, I don't plan to," Rufus looked into her eyes. "That boy is becoming more and more interesting by the day, and I want to know what his plans are."

"He's thirteen," Amelia shook her head. "What real change can he make?"

"The Dark Lord was thirteen once," Rufus said bluntly, and Amelia blinked at him.

"The Dark Lord?" Amelia gave him a puzzled look. "Rufus… Ronald Weasley is no Dark Lord in the making."

"I never said that," Rufus countered. "I am saying that a person's age shouldn't be a factor. You underestimate him, even after he forced you to make him an International Diplomat. His name keeps popping up everywhere, and he visits our Offices weekly. Not to mention that he has brought the French here, all of whom seem to worship him as some ancient Demon. He's growing more and more powerful, and no one is paying him any mind. Tell me something, Amelia… Did anyone see You-Know-Who coming?"

"No," Amelia sighed, she didn't want to have this conversation.

"Exactly," Rufus said. "One day, he just showed up, and the World was forever changed. He no doubt laid the groundwork for the Great War for decades, and no one paid him any mind."

"Rufus, we cannot put our own citizens under surveillance," Amelia said firmly. "Not without proper cause. And no, suspicion is not proper cause. Our resources are already limited, and I will not sanction such a job." I know. Our hands are tied, and these Pure-Bloods know it.

"I understand," Rufus said calmly, and Amelia eyed him. "Do you want to know what I've seen so far?"

Amelia let out a tired breath, and then she gave him a nod. She understood that Rufus was an extremely focused individual, and that once he caught scent of any form of wrongdoing, he did everything in his power to fix the situation. He had always been like that, which is why she had picked him to be her Head Auror.

"I first started watching him when John Dawlish told me that Emilia Travers and Ronald Weasley had left for the Gardens before the Gardens were even opened," Rufus started, and Amelia looked a bit taken aback.

"He spoke to Emilia Travers?" Amelia asked, the Auror's Office had heard disturbing rumors about this witch.

"He did," Rufus replied. "And not only that, but she has been visibly shaken ever since."

"Explain," Amelia suddenly felt her own curiosity rise.

"John told me that she's been sweating, and that she has had her hand on her Blade ever since her chat with Ronald Weasley," Rufus explained, while Amelia listened with a furrowed brow. "Isn't that odd? The rumors that we have heard about this witch are quite menacing, and yet, she is trembling after having a conversation with a thirteen year old."

"What else?"

"Emilia Travers has also made some sort of business deal with Daphne Greengrass, who happens to be Ronald Weasley's girlfriend," Rufus reported. "That girl has been making deals with the French all night."

"You suspect her to be involved in some plot?" Amelia asked. "Mr. Weasley brings the French in, and Miss. Greengrass gives them a reason to stay?"

"Maybe…" Rufus replied, he felt something else in his gut. "I think that Daphne Greengrass has no idea about what her boyfriend is up to. I think he is using her Family's wealth and influence to his advantage. I find it rather suspicious that he has latched onto the wealthiest Family in Europe, and he no doubt has a strong relationship with Sebastian Greengrass."

"A dangerous man, in his own right," Amelia gave a slow nod. "What else has Mr. Weasley been up to?"

"He spoke with Albus Dumbledore just now," Rufus replied. "I was inside, so I didn't hear them, but they seem to be… close… to each other. Definitely not just a student and Headmaster relationship."

"Friends?"

"Close to it," Rufus replied.

"Now why would the greatest sorcerer alive be friends with a thirteen year old boy?" Amelia couldn't help but ask.

"Now you see why I'm so interested in him," Rufus stated. "That boy is far too… involved… for someone his age. He seems to be everywhere, and there isn't a prominent Family that hasn't heard his name. He somehow withstood a mental assault from fifty Veelas, who he has befriended through Madame Maxime, another ambitious individual, and now they are all here. In Magical Britain." Rufus then fixed his sore leg into place. "I'm warning you, Amelia… That boy is up to something, and we would be wise to watch him."

"He might be watching us too," Amelia said, and Rufus looked to her. "He introduced his brother, Percy Weasley, to me. Percy wishes to work within our Department as my Personal Assistant."

"Say no," Rufus advised.

"I would, but I need the help," Amelia admitted. "Plus, I cannot deny a capable young wizard a job just because his brother is suspicious. Percy Weasley intends to work at the Ministry with, or without, my help. I think it's best if we keep him under our watch."

"Maybe he can tell us more about his younger brother?" Rufus suggested, he saw the sense in her words. The entire Department is backlogged because of how undermanned we are.

"Maybe," Amelia nodded, and then she drew in a deep breath. "I have always put my faith in you, my friend, and I will do so again. Watch Mr. Weasley, but don't use Department resources." An off-the-books investigation? "Keep me informed, and don't give yourself away. Mr. Weasley owns a magazine, and he can sully our already struggling reputation. Plus, the Pure-Bloods won't take lightly to one of their own being investigated, even if it is a Weasley."

"Pure-Bloods…" Rufus couldn't help but grimace. "We give too much power to these people."

"That was our deal, was it not?" Amelia gave a half-smile. "I'll deal with the bureaucrats, while you hunt down Dark Wizards." I remember. "Dealing with the Pure-Bloods is my job, so don't worry about them. Just do what you do best."

"I intend to."

---

Daphne Greengrass' POV

Saturday 28th November, 1993 (The Gala – Night)

Daphne had a smug smile on her face, and try as she might, she couldn't remove it. She had spoken to Emilia Travers, and within five or six sentences, made a profitable business deal with her. My first business deal! And I didn't need anyone's help! I did it all on my own! She couldn't wait to tell her father, but more importantly, she couldn't wait to tell Ron. He'll be so excited for me, and maybe, he'll even give me that 'Star smile' of his. The one he gives to people he's really proud of.

As it turned out, Emilia Travers already planned to bring some of her Milling Business over to Magical Britain. However, she didn't expect anyone to help her, so when Daphne had promised to find her a suitable location and warehouses, Emilia had jumped at the opportunity. Daphne would receive thirty percent of the profits made from the business within Magical Britain, and all she had to do was secure a few buildings. Plus, my Family Name helps give Lady Travers legitimacy. No one would dare cross the Greengrass Family.

"Daughter," her father suddenly stopped her, and Daphne was pulled back into reality. Damn, I don't have Ron with me.

"Father," Daphne smiled at Sebastian, who looked anything but amused. Where is mother? Has he been searching for me?

"Where is he?" Sebastian asked, and Daphne suddenly felt her excitement begin to leave her.

"He's… around…" Daphne answered lamely, and Sebastian frowned at her.

"You mean you don't know," Sebastian said curtly, and when Daphne went to explain herself, Sebastian raised his hand. "Spare me your excuses, Daphne, I have no use for them. Come, we will go and find him. The reporters are being let into the Ballroom, and I want you to be by his side when the photos are taken."

"Wait," Daphne stopped him. "I have something to tell you." Merlin, I hope he likes what he hears.

"What is it?" Sebastian asked, his eyes were scanning the Ballroom for Ron.

"I have been speaking to the French Families," Daphne started, and Sebastian looked back to her. "And I managed to make my first business deal."

"A business deal?" Sebastian asked. Be more charismatic, Daphne. What are you doing?

"With Emilia Travers," Daphne smiled and stood up straighter. "She wishes to expand her Milling Business into Magical Britain, and I offered to locate warehouses and an Office for her. She agreed, mostly because of our Family Name, and she has offered me thirty percent of the profits that her business will make in Britain."

"Thirty percent?" Sebastian blinked. "That's… generous…"

"I know, right?" Daphne suddenly felt too excited. Calm down, keep your composure. "Ahem… Yes, thirty percent. She and I will put a contract together soon, and build upon the business from there. She can't always be in Britain, so she needs a partner to oversee the British Branch from time to time."

With that said, Daphne waited patiently for her father's response. I can't really read him. He looks taken aback, but nothing more. Isn't… Isn't he happy? After a few more seconds, Daphne decided to speak up.

"Aren't you pleased, father?" Daphne asked, unable to hide the slight worry in her voice.

"Of course I am," Sebastian shook his head clear. "I was just thinking…"

"About Lady Travers' intentions?" Daphne asked, and he gave a nod. "I am thinking about them as well."

"Good," Sebastian smiled a little, his voice becoming much gentler. "Your very first business deal, and you are only thirteen." Sebastian then smiled more fully, much to Daphne's joy. He never smiles so openly in public! "Congratulations, daughter."

"Thank you, father," Daphne beamed, despite trying to control her excitement.

"Waiter," Sebastian called out, and a nearby waiter approached them.

Sebastian took two glasses of champagne, and once the waiter was gone, he offered one to Daphne, who took it with an almost awed look. No way…

"You want me to drink with you?" Daphne blinked at her glass. Isn't that our Family's coming of age tradition? Except, I'm not a boy.

"I do," her father replied, his left hand stroking her cheek. "I myself didn't make my first business deal until I was sixteen, so to see you do it at thirteen… Words cannot express my pride."

Daphne felt almost lightheaded at hearing such praise for Lord Sebastian Greengrass himself, but she did her best to stay on her feet. He's your father, Daphne. Don't be so dramatic.

"You are a young woman now, Daphne," Sebastian said almost sadly, and then they clinked their glasses together. "You will make the Greengrass Name shine one day, I have no doubts about that."

"I will do my best," Daphne promised, and then they both drank from their glasses.

As Daphne finished her glass, she felt her eyes sting from sheer joy. Don't cry! Your makeup will get ruined! Once they were both done, Daphne decided that she quite liked the taste of champagne. I'll never forget this moment. Daphne then noticed that her father was just staring at her with a smile on his face.

"What is it, father?" Daphne asked.

"I was just remembering when you were little," Sebastian all but whispered. "And now, you've grown up…"

"Does that make you sad?" Daphne couldn't help but ask.

"Sad, and happy," Sebastian admitted, and then he drew in a deep breath. "I must find your mother, and tell her the good news. She will be so happy to hear this."

"What about Ron?" Daphne asked.

"Oh, you'll find him, I'm sure," Sebastian said, much to Daphne's surprise. "And remember, if you need advice about running a business, you have me at your side. I won't, of course, interfere with your endeavors, but you can always rely on my help."

"I understand," Daphne gave a nod, and Sebastian gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head. Bloody hell! He must be over the moon!

"We will celebrate properly once you come home for the Break," Sebastian promised with a proud smile, and then he left to go find his wife.

Daphne stayed in her spot for a few seconds, making sure to take in her father's reaction completely. A young woman… That's what he said. He doesn't see me as a child anymore. Daphne felt the urge to pump her fist into the air, just as her boyfriend tended to do whenever he was excited. Maybe later, when I'm all alone. A smile creeped onto her face again, and once she had handed the empty glass to a passing waiter, she did her best to regain her composure.

As she turned to go find Ron, she spotted Blaise speaking to a Lord Yaxley. There he is! I finally found him. Daphne looked around for her other friends, who were also searching for Blaise, but she didn't find them. Without hesitation, Daphne began making her way towards Blaise. As she neared her wayward friend, she overheard Blaise's conversation.

"And your mother has gone home?" Lord Yaxley asked, his hard, blunt features twisted in a nasty looking smile. Ugh… He's always been so creepy.

"She has," Blaise replied calmly. "She made her donation, and I asked her to stay behind in order to enjoy the Gala." Smart move, Blaise.

"I see," Lord Yaxley gave a nod. "A real shame… I was hoping to meet her tonight. After all, she tells the most fascinating tales." That's gross. Isn't Lord Yaxley a married man?

"Yes, I'm sure," Blaise said indifferently, and Daphne decided to make herself known.

"Lord Yaxley," Daphne greeted politely, and both wizards looked to her. "How are you enjoying your evening?"

"I've had better," Lord Yaxley replied, his eyes scanning her. "You have grown quite a lot since I last saw you. Why is it that Sebastian no longer invites his fellow Pure-Bloods to his Manor?"

"My father has been very busy of late," Daphne replied. "Perhaps you should send him an invitation for a change?"

Lord Yaxley smirked a little, and then he looked back to Blaise.

"Send my regards to your mother, Blaise," Lord Yaxley said, and then he turned around and left. Creep. I didn't like him eyeballing me like that.

"You can send your regards to my cock," Blaise muttered under his breath, a frown marking his handsome features. "Bloody cheat. His wife is currently looking after his daughter, and he's trying to find my mother."

"I never did like that man," Daphne admitted, and then she gave Blaise a small smile. "I've been looking for you."

"You have?" Blaise cocked an eyebrow.

"Ron overheard your conversation with Lord Black, and he's been looking for you," Daphne told Blaise, who just let out a tired breath. "He told me to look for you, and I told the others. Where did you go, Blaise?"

"I roamed the Manor," Blaise shrugged. "I'm sorry that you wasted your time on me."

"Don't say that," Daphne took Blaise's arm. "We were worried about you."

"Sorry about that as well," Blaise said rather coldly, but Daphne knew that Blaise wasn't as cold as he sounded. Plus, he's distancing himself from everyone, which is what he does whenever his mother gets to him. "I am fine, Daphne, I promise."

"You can talk to me," Daphne assured him. "I've known you since we were children, Blaise. Tell me why you left."

Blaise stared at her for a few seconds, and then he looked forward with a slight frown.

"My mother got to me," Blaise all but whispered, and Daphne tightened her hold on his arm. "She came all the way to Britain just to cheat on her fiancé, and almost every man I've met tonight has asked me about her whereabouts. They all just see her as… As a cheap shag. That's what people think of us Zabinis."

"That's not true," Daphne said gently.

"But it is," Blaise shot her an angry scowl. "You know it is, so don't lie to me." He's not like Ron, he doesn't respond to kind words and a gentle voice. I should be honest with him, that's what Blaise responds to.

"Alright… I'm sorry," Daphne apologized. "Your mother has indeed tarnished your Family's Name with her… antics. But you are not her, Blaise. Don't throw yourself into the pot with her. Her actions will catch up to her eventually, and you should just leave her to her fate."

"She's my mother," Blaise sighed, he hated talking about this sort of tripe. "As her son, I am honor-bound-"

"That's what she wants you to think," Daphne told him bluntly. "Blaise, she only cares about herself, and you know that."

"So, what should I do?" Blaise asked her in an almost scathing tone. "Kick her to the curb, and then walk off into the sunset?"

"Why not?" Daphne asked, and Blaise blinked at her. "You have a Trust Fund, don't you?" He gave a slow nod. "Save up as much as you can, and when you get the chance, move into the Business World. You already have friends with powerful connections, and although it'll be hard at first, you can make a name for yourself. Your mother's reputation won't taint yours, but only if you just cut her off."

"You think I haven't thought of this?" Blaise asked her. "Believe me, I have… But I just can't do it. She was good to me… A long time ago…"

"She's Family, I understand that," Daphne nodded. "But aren't you one of the people who ask Ron to distance himself from his siblings? Or even his parents?"

Blaise said nothing to that, instead he just looked slightly subdued. I shouldn't push him any further. If he gets angry, he'll turn cold to everyone.

"How about we make a deal?" Daphne gave his cheek a kiss.

"A deal?" Blaise asked.

"Tonight, we just enjoy ourselves as much as we can," Daphne smirked. "But starting from tomorrow, we start taking more responsibility for our own lives."

"I see that Ron has infected you with his never-ending ambitions," Blaise smirked a little.

"We can either be jealous of his rising status, or we can learn from it and grow as people," Daphne said in a sagely voice, which earned a weak chuckle out of Blaise. "So… What do you think?"

"I think you need to stop spending so much time around Ron," Blaise joked, and Daphne smiled at him.

"I barely get to do that," Daphne feigned hurt. "He's an awful boyfriend." But he's also the best.

"Is that why you want him to go drinking with us?" Blaise asked. "Are you up to something?"

"Me?" Daphne giggled. "Never."

"Just go easy on him," Blaise smiled properly. "And… Thanks. I'll think about your words, I promise."

"Good," Daphne smiled back. "We should go and find the others, I think the dancing is supposed to start soon. Oh, and I expect you to dance with me tonight, Blaise." He's always been a good dancer.

"After Ron?" Blaise asked.

"After Ron."

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 28th November, 1993 (The Gala – Night)

"I'm bored," Pansy whined, and Ron shot her a grin. "Ron, entertain me."

After slipping out of the Head Auror's gaze, Ron had run into Pansy, who was also searching for Blaise. They had decided to move around together, and to collect any of their other friends if they saw them.

"What do you have in mind?" Ron asked.

"I can think of several things," Pansy shot him a wink, and Ron sniggered.

"Have you been drinking, Lady Parkinson?" Ron asked, and she gave him an innocent smile.

"I would never dare do that," Pansy giggled. "Now… Entertain me."

Ron gave her arse a light smack, and she let out a cute squeal.

"Do it again," Pansy laughed, and Ron couldn't help but laugh as well. "Please? I wasn't ready."

"Sorry, one arse-smack a month," Ron tutted. "Only Daphne gets unlimited arse-smacks."

"She's so greedy," Pansy huffed. "Friends share…"

"I am, sadly, not a chew toy," Ron reminded her, but she just waved a dismissive hand.

"Friends share, that's what I read in A Wizard's Desire," Pansy told him, and Ron stopped moving.

"You read?" Ron asked, and Pansy smirked in a rather smug manner.

"I'm cute, and I'm smart," Pansy praised herself.

"And slightly drunk," Ron added with a smile.

"It's the waiters' fault, Ron," Pansy defended herself. "They handed me the champagne."

"How much?"

"Five glasses," Pansy replied, and Ron held back a laugh. I can't let her run off drunk, it could hurt her reputation.

"You're not leaving my side now," Ron tangled their arms.

"Ohhh, I like this," Pansy gave him wet kiss on the cheek. "Hold me, hero!"

"Pansy, don't yell," Ron hushed, his eyes darting around them. Good, no one is staring at us.

"Where is Theo?" Pansy asked out of the blue, and Ron blinked at her. "He's supposed to be my date tonight."

"We'll find him," Ron promised. "Now… Tell me about this book that you read."

"Oh!" Pansy lit up. "Really?"

"Really," Ron replied.

"Well, it's an Erotica," Pansy said rather scandalously, which Ron found rather adorable. "It's about this Wizard, who has a great destiny, but he is shackled by circumstance, and he has all these adults telling him what to do. Eventually, he gets sick of being bossed around, and so he starts becoming more independent. He makes new friends, mostly with girls, all of whom become a part of his harem."

"Pardon?" Ron blinked.

"Oh, he has multiple love interests," Pansy giggled. "He sleeps with almost a dozen different girls in the story." Um… So he has no honor?

"And what relevance does that have to the plot?" Ron asked slowly, he knew he was going to regret asking this.

"Well… It's an Erotica, Ron," Pansy stared at him like he was an idiot.

"But what of his 'Great Destiny'?" Ron asked. "Does he accomplish his goals?"

"Oh, he accomplishes everything in the last few chapters with relative ease," Pansy said dismissively. "The real point is that he sleeps with a lot of girls."

"And you enjoyed reading this book?" Ron asked.

"Immensely," Pansy smiled widely. "It gave me a lot of ideas."

"I'm not even going to ask," Ron decided, and she pouted once again.

"Please? They're really good ideas," Pansy urged.

"Nope," Ron refused, a smile on his face. "I'm scared that if I look into your mind, I'll go crazy."

"This is why Hadrian is cuter than you," Pansy huffed.

"Who?" Ron asked.

"Hadrian… The main protagonist of A Wizard's Desire," Pansy clarified.

"Well, if he managed to sleep with dozens of girls, I'm inclined to believe you," Ron shrugged.

"You're supposed to be offended, Ron," Pansy gave him a deadpan look.

"Oh, did I ruin your fun?" Ron grinned. "I am so sorry."

"You're mean," Pansy looked forward. "Daphne can keep you."

"Alright," Ron chuckled. "I can live with that."

"No, Ron… You're supposed to fight for me," Pansy groaned.

"You're so weird, Pansy, and I love it," Ron sniggered, and then he spotted Millie. "Oh, look over there. I found Millie."

"Millie!" Pansy waved her over, nearly deafening Ron in the process. She blew my damn eardrums!

Milly turned out with a slightly startled look, while nearby guests frowned at Pansy and Ron. Ron began apologizing to them on Pansy's behalf, while she ran over and latched onto Millie.

"Just be more mindful of other people's presence," an older woman frowned at him.

"Sorry, we will do that," Ron assured her, and then he quickly made his way over to Pansy and Millie.

"Ron, you let her get drunk?" Millie asked him immediately, while Pansy clung to Millie's right arm.

"You smell so nice," Pansy smiled at Millie, who looked quite uncomfortable.

"I didn't do anything," Ron told Millie. "By the time I ran into her, she had already downed five glasses of champagne."

"Pansy…" Millie sighed. "You were meant to be looking for Blaise."

"But the waiter was really cute," Pansy defended herself. "He had a great smile, and he asked me if I wanted 'refreshments'. How could I refuse? Plus, I was looking for Blaise. I just never ran into him."

"Do you know where the others are?" Ron asked Millie.

"Just Theo," Millie replied. "He's speaking to the Longbottoms, of all people."

"He is?" Ron asked, while Pansy got excited at the prospect of spending more time with her date.

"Herbology," Millie grimaced, and Ron grimaced as well.

"Terrible subject," they said together.

"Let's go and collect him," Pansy said excitedly. "Then, we'll find Daphne and Blaise, and then, we can get alcohol!"

"Shhh," Ron and Millie shushed her, but Pansy just giggled to herself. She's going to get us caught.

"Let's just go," Millie started walking, and Pansy refused to let go of her.

"Millie was supposed to stay by my side all night," Pansy told Ron. "But she left me behind… I had to drink to drown my heartache…"

"Don't be so dramatic," Millie frowned, while Ron and Pansy started laughing. "I'm not letting you have another sip of alcohol tonight, Pansy. You're clearly not yourself already."

"But I am myself," Pansy challenged. "Ron, tell her."

"She's Pansy Parkinson, I can attest to that," Ron smirked, and Millie rolled her eyes.

"Pansy, you and I will wait here," Millie stopped walking. "Ron, you should go ahead and speak to the Longbottoms."

"Why? I want Theo," Pansy eyeballed Theo's back.

"Pansy, Lady Longbottom is a harsh woman," Millie said, and then she looked to Ron. "Bring Theo back here, please. I'll keep Pansy from embarrassing herself."

"Will do, and good luck," Ron said, and then he quickly made his way over to Theo.

Neville and Theo seemed to be discussing some rare type of plant, while Lady Longbottom listened to their conversation with a concentrated look. As Ron neared the three of them, Lady Longbottom was the first to spot him.

"Ah, Ronald," Lady Longbottom gave a half-smile, while Neville and Theo looked to him.

"Lady Longbottom," Ron smiled politely. "I am glad to see you again."

"Likewise," Lady Longbottom said.

"Hey, Ron," Neville greeted, and Ron gave him a nod. "Nott and I were just discussing poisons." What?

"Really?" Ron looked to Theo, who simply smirked at him.

"I'm planning your murder," Theo told him, and Ron nodded in understanding.

"That's fair enough," Ron chuckled. "Millie and Pansy want to talk to you, by the way. Neville, why don't you join Theo so I can speak to your Grandmother?"

Neville looked to his Gran, and she gave him a subtle nod.

"Alright, if you're sure," Neville looked to Ron.

"Theo, be nice to him," Ron said, and Theo patted Neville's back. "Tell the others."

"Will do," Theo gave a nod. "Let's go, Longbottom. I want you to teach my witless friends about the value of Herbology."

With that, Theo guided Neville off towards the girls.

"Bold of you to send my Grandson away like some servant," Lady Longbottom looked into Ron's eyes, her tone completely emotionless.

"He didn't look particularly happy," Ron shrugged. "Plus, I want him to get to know my friends. He's the Heir to the Longbottom Fortune, so he needs friends who are trained in such matters. Harry and Hermione are loyal friends, but they lack… cunning." Plus, I should keep Neville in my corner, he's actually tried to be a good friend to me. He made mistakes, and he learned from them. I can respect that.

"An answer for everything," Lady Longbottom smirked, and Ron relaxed a little. "That's what I like about you, Ronald. You don't back down easy."

"Some people don't find that trait very charming," Ron told her.

"Then those people are not worth your time," Lady Longbottom advised. "Never waste your time on fools, Ronald, especially if they can't help you further your own ends. Prominent Families have died out because no one had the spine to lose the dead weight."

"I'll keep that in mind," Ron promised. "How have you been, Lady Longbottom?"

"I am getting better," she replied. "My health suffered a little after…" she trailed off. "I am feeling more like myself every day, and that is all that matters."

"You have my support, should you need it," Ron offered, and she gave him a grateful nod.

"Let us move onto a lighter subject," Lady Longbottom said, and Ron decided that she was right. "I want to discuss the French…"

"Ah," Ron smiled slowly. "So you've heard about my actions."

"Madame Maxime is a strong woman, so I trust her," Lady Longbottom said. "But these… half-breeds… Ronald, they have designs of their own. You must be careful around these creatures, they ensnare men as a pastime."

"Trust me, they're far more scared of me than I am of them," Ron said. "They think that I'm some Ancient Demon."

"Maybe the irrational ones do, but the clever ones know that you're just a man," Lady Longbottom told him. "They simply go along with your legend because it helps them save face."

"Save face?" Ron asked.

"Is it not easier to explain that a 'Demon' resisted them, rather than a young man?" Lady Longbottom asked, and Ron nodded slowly.

"They help paint me as some unnatural being, and in doing so, they get an excuse for their failure," Ron figured.

"I am sure that if it weren't for Madame Maxime, some of them would have found ways to eliminate you," Lady Longbottom said. "Their power comes from being irresistible to men, but you have proven that they are not irresistible. Many of these creatures have killed for less."

"I understand," Ron said, he had missed this old witch. "I will put my faith in Madame Maxime, rather than the Veelas."

"Just be careful, Ronald," Lady Longbottom advised. "You are quickly becoming a problem for many people."

"That means that I'm doing something right," Ron grinned.

"You are an odd boy," Lady Longbottom gave a half-smile. "Please look after Neville for the rest of the night. I want him to enjoy himself, not follow me around. I won't always be around to hold his hand." Is there something that I should know?

"I will take care of him," Ron promised her, and she decided to be on her way.

As Ron watched her leave, he couldn't help but notice that she looked quite frail now. The loss of her son and daughter-in-law have really taken a toll on her. I want to help her, but what can I do besides talk to her? Ron scratched the back of his head, maybe he could help her by helping Neville? Helping Neville… He doesn't need my help with much. He's got friends outside of Harry and Hermione, he's Theo's equal in Herbology, and even my friends don't mind him. Ron drew in a deep breath, and then he walked back to his friends.

"So he's joining us tonight?" Pansy was smiling at Neville, who was eyeing her with a reluctant gaze.

"He is," Theo chuckled, seemingly enjoying Neville's misery.

"Well, the more the merrier," Pansy looked Neville up and down.

"Stop that," Ron said as stepped up beside Neville. "Excuse Pansy, Neville, she is creepy even when she is sober."

"She's drunk?" Neville looked surprised. "But she's a minor…"

Ron held back his laugh, but the rest of his friends couldn't help themselves. Neville looked around with a confused look, and then he looked back to Ron.

"My innocent little lion," Ron grinned, and Neville frowned a little.

"Are you teasing me?" Neville asked.

"Yes," Ron patted his back with a calmer smile. "C'mon, let's look around for Daphne and Blaise.

---

Five Minutes Later

"Maybe I should go find my Gran again?" Neville whispered to Ron. "I don't like the thought of leaving her out there alone."

Ron looked ahead at Theo, Millie, and Pansy, all of whom were walking and talking quite excitedly.

"Your Gran is a tough old bird," Ron whispered to Neville. "And she asked me to take care of you tonight."

"She did?" Neville asked, his eyes narrowing. "Why would she do that? I can take care of myself."

"You are getting riled up for no reason," Ron said calmly. "She wants you to enjoy your night, Neville."

"Oh…" Neville looked ahead.

"Yeah, 'oh'…" Ron said.

"Well, I was enjoying my night," Neville said slowly, and Ron cocked an eyebrow at him. "Alright… I wasn't, but my Gran needs me."

"She needs to see you happy," Ron countered. "I get that you want to be there for her, but standing around her won't change anything. Just give this a try, and if it doesn't work, then you can blame me."

"Why do you want me here?" Neville asked, and Ron blinked at him. "Look, Ron… I know that you say one thing, but mean another. You play with words in order to get what you want, and I'm not really good at that. So just tell me plainly."

Ron studied Neville's serious expression, and then he gave a nod. Damn, I can't resist that kind of honesty.

"Your Grandmother is an important ally to me," Ron told Neville the truth. "If keeping you entertained keeps her happy, then that's what I'll do. In the next few months, I will be facing a lot of opposition, and I need powerful friends."

"See? Was that so hard?" Neville smiled a little.

"Incredibly so," Ron grinned. "In Slytherin, we just talk differently. When I first got Sorted, I had people constantly playing games with me."

"So if I was in Slytherin, I'd be more silver-tongued?" Neville asked.

"And far less truthful," Ron replied. "Personally, I prefer this version of you."

"Thanks, I guess," Neville smiled ahead. "So… You set up the twins?"

"Neville, let's stay on good grounds," Ron advised. "These kinds of questions lead to a difference in opinion, which then leads into confrontation. These questions are best avoided."

"I suppose," Neville agreed, though he had his answer now.

"Ron, they're over there," Theo pointed out, and Ron looked to see Daphne and Blaise approaching them arm-in-arm. Bastard stole my woman!

"Excuse me," Ron said to Neville, and then he made his way over to Daphne and Blaise. "Blaise, you alright?"

"I'm fine, you worry-wart," Blaise replied.

"I only worry because I care," Ron smiled at him, happy to see that Daphne had worked her Magic. "Now unhand my woman, please."

"Looks like this is the end of our affair, Blaise," Daphne chuckled, and then she took Ron's arm instead.

"It was horrible while it lasted," Blaise smirked. "You may keep her, Ron."

"How rude," Daphne tutted, while Ron pulled up her hand and kissed it. Mine!

"Blaise, you're safe!" Pansy walked up and hugged him, much to Blaise's annoyance. "Don't run off again, please!"

Blaise shot Ron a confused look, while Daphne just stared at Pansy.

"She found a waiter who was serving alcohol," Millie told them, and they both nodded slowly.

"Pansy, that's enough," Blaise tapped her back. "Please stop."

"Fine, we will hug later," Pansy let him go. "Oh, Longbottom's here, by the way."

"Hello," Neville waved at them from behind the others, and they cocked eyebrows.

"Be nice, I invited him," Ron told them all.

"Well, the dancing is going to start soon," Daphne told Ron. "And you've avoided me enough for tonight."

---

Twenty Minutes Later

Celestina Warbeck was singing 'You Charmed the Heart Right out of Me', and a group of Banshee's were accompanying her. Many of the guests were giving their first dances, and Ron was no different. His first dance was, of course, Daphne, who was considerably more fluid and graceful than him. He had already stepped on her toes twice, and although she told him that it was alright, Ron had vowed that he'd learn dancing from one of his mates for Daphne's sake. Or at least, for the sake of her toes.

"And she just agreed, Ron," Daphne finished telling him about Emilia. "I get to make so much money, and all I have to do is to use my Name to vouch for hers."

After giving it a little thought, Ron had decided to not tell her about his involvement. She's so proud of herself, and she looks genuinely happy. I think if I tell her that I talked Emilia into it, she'll question herself needlessly. So I'll just stay quiet.

"I'm really proud of you, Daph," Ron beamed down at her, and she looked far more pleased than before. "I'm dating a Businesswoman. Do I get any special benefits?"

"Hmm, I suppose you'll see at Christmas," Daphne giggled before planting her head against his chest. "It means a lot to me that you're proud."

"Really?" Ron asked.

"Of course," Daphne replied. "You've told me that you love it when I'm proud of you for something, and it's the same for me."

"I guess that's fair," Ron swayed from side to side.

And then, someone flashed a photo of him.

"Damn reporters," Ron frowned a little, his eyes were already adjusting back to normal.

"Don't frown," Daphne looked back up. "These photos will be in the Daily Prophet tomorrow, and I don't want you to look grouchy."

"Grouchy?" Ron looked down.

"Yes, Ron," Daphne smirked. "Grouchy… Like a bear, or a startled Hippogriff." Eh, at least those are cool creatures.

"I don't understand why they need to bring their big cameras in here?" Ron shook his head. "I mean, we're all trying to enjoy ourselves, and these pricks are blinding us constantly."

"They're only here because this sort of news makes the most money," Daphne shrugged. "Plus, it strokes people's egos."

"I miss the days when I was a simple Blood-Traitor," Ron sniggered. "I was uncultured, and I didn't give a damn."

"I didn't like that person very much," Daphne said, and Ron pulled a face.

"Please, you loved it," Ron scoffed, and Daphne's lips twitched upwards. "You had a crush on me back in first year, you said so yourself."

"Only after you got me that lovely, golden hair-pin," Daphne corrected him. "Wait… That makes me sound shallow." Ron snorted at that. "Let's say that I started my crush on you when you came back from your coma. That's much more romantic."

"You can't just change the truth, Daph," Ron kissed the top of her head.

"Why not?" Daphne asked. "The truth is often whatever other people believe."

"Everyone has their own truths, you mean?" Ron asked.

"Exactly," Daphne replied. "My truth is that I fell in love with a brave young man who fought, and survived, against the Dark Lord himself."

"Not so loud," Ron whispered. "And I didn't fight, Daph. I was obliterated." By my own fucking teammate.

"Again, no one has to know that," Daphne looked up. "The fact that you went there was enough. No one cares for a sad story, Ron. People want heroism, adventure, and most importantly, romance. Reality is often far less colorful."

"I'll take reality any day," Ron said. "People who believe in fairytales spend too much time in their own heads."

"Whereas your mind is always making reality whatever you want," Daphne smiled, and Ron shot her a wink. "You're very cynical, Ron, did you know that?"

"I have reason to be," Ron shrugged. After all, I'm surrounded by people who are driven only by the need to achieve their own ends. Actually, I'm like that myself. "Better to be a cynic than to be foolish."

"I think a bit of optimism is necessary," Daphne said. "Without optimism, everyone would be the same. We'd all be distrustful, and as a result, quite lonely."

"Do I make you feel lonely?" Ron asked genuinely.

"Sometimes," Daphne admitted, and Ron felt the urge to punch himself in the head. "But I know that's just who you are, and I love that about you. Why else would I be going out of my way to make business deals at thirteen?"

"You want to be more like me?" Ron asked. Please say no, even I don't like me.

"Is that such a bad thing?" Daphne asked. Yes, it is. "You go after what you want, no matter what it is. In a way, I'm like that too. I wanted you, so I kissed you when we were still in second year."

"But now your sights are a little higher?" Ron asked.

"I want to apply myself more," Daphne told him. "I have a good head for business, and waiting around only reduces my opportunities."

"So I've made you a cynic?" Ron asked.

"The same we've made you more levelheaded," Daphne replied, and Ron nodded slowly.

"I suppose my anger used to get the best of me," Ron admitted.

"Used?" Daphne giggled.

"Fine, but I control myself much better now," Ron said quickly. "I haven't yelled at any of you for at least a week." I think…

"And we thank you deeply," Daphne laughed, while Ron just smiled at her. "But then again, we haven't trained together for a while. We're always helping the second years, and then working in secret for our own Tournament."

"Speaking of which, how is your training going?" Ron asked.

"I learnt that trick from you, and I'm trying to be faster, but I just don't enjoy it," Daphne admitted. "I find it dull, and taxing." But it's necessary.

"It gets better," Ron urged softly. "I promise."

"It's just not me, Ron," Daphne said. "I see how happy you, and Millie, are when you two are sparring against those dummies. I just don't feel that, and neither does Pansy. Blaise and Theo seem to enjoy it, but only when they are learning Curses. As for Tracey, she just needs a reason to run around and be crazy."

"What about winning the Tournament?" Ron asked.

"We all know that you're going to win," Daphne replied. "I'll do my best, of course, but I won't let losing get to me. Not like last time. Now… If I hadn't managed to make a single deal tonight, then I'd be really upset. You'd find me crying somewhere in the Gardens." Yep, don't say a word, Ron.

"Well, I'm glad that you did it," Ron rested his chin on top of her head. "You crying would ruin my night."

"So selfish," Daphne chuckled into his chest. "What about me? I'm the one who would be in tears."

"Oh, you'd cheer up eventually," Ron replied casually.

"Rude," Daphne tutted. "No fondling for you tonight."

"Let's not be hasty," Ron said quickly.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Daphne smirked to herself.

Celestina finished her song with a booming voice, and when she went silent, people broke away from their partners and applauded her performance.

"You're too kind!" Celestina laughed loudly. "Should we start the second dance?!"

"Who's your second dance?" Daphne asked him.

"You?" Ron asked. "I mean, I want to dance with you."

Daphne smiled and stroked his left hand, and Ron felt his heart sink. Ugh… I don't want to find someone else.

"Later, Ron," Daphne promised. "It's tradition to find a new partner for the second dance."

"Fine…" Ron said in a childish manner. "I'll go find some random-"

"You should ask your mother," Daphne suggested, and Ron cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Mum?"

"I'm having my second dance with my father," Daphne told him. "Go on, Ron, she'd love that."

"You're right," Ron nodded, despite wanting to stay with Daphne. Don't be so clingy, Ron. Girls don't like that, I think.

They both separated at that, and Ron moved past a few excited guests until he finally saw his mother. She looked ready to dance with her husband again, and Ron couldn't help but admire the smiles on their faces. For a brief moment, he was rooted in his spot. They're safe, and enjoying a night of comfort and luxury. I don't know why that makes me so happy, but it just does. Ron drew in a deep breath, and then he walked over to them.

"Mum, dad," Ron greeted.

"Ron," his mother smiled at him, and then she looked around for Daphne. "Where is Daphne? The second dance is about to start."

"I know, but I want to dance with you," Ron smiled back.

"With me?" Molly blinked, and then she looked to Arthur.

"I think I saw Percy wandering about just before," Ron grinned at his father. "Enjoy."

"Guess that's my cue," Arthur chuckled, and then he bid his wife goodbye. "Take care of her, son."

"Well?" Ron put his gloved hand forward.

"I accept," Molly took his hand, and they moved into position.

"Full disclosure before we start, I'm probably going to break your toes," Ron admitted.

"Oh, you can't be that bad?" Molly laughed, she was just glad to have her youngest son as a partner.

"Oh, but I am," Ron replied. "You're all so little, it makes it hard to coordinate myself accordingly."

"You're not joking?" Molly looked up at him.

"Nope," Ron grinned widely.

"Merlin, poor Daphne," Molly sighed. "You're twice her size, Ronald. Did you really step on her toes?"

"Twice, and she winced in agony each time," Ron sniggered, this was fun.

"Tsk," Molly clicked her tongue. "I'll find her after this, and make sure that she's alright. Be more careful with her, Ron. Girls don't enjoy broken toes."

"And men do?" Ron asked.

"Well, I am not a man, so I won't presume to know," Molly countered.

"That was good, I can't think of what to say to that," Ron nodded in approval.

Celestina slowly started singing 'A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love', and Molly let out an excited squeal. What was that?! They began swaying side to side, and Ron made damn sure to keep track of his own two feet.

"I love this song," Molly told him excitedly. "Your father and I used to dance to it when we were young. He was such a daredevil, you wouldn't believe it, Ron."

"Daredevil?" Ron couldn't help but ask. "Dad? Mild-mannered dad, who squeals when he sees Muggle items?"

"Oh, he was a proper bad boy, then," Molly giggled to herself, while Ron cringed at her words.

"A bad boy? Ew," Ron grimaced. "I don't want to think about dad like that, mum." Plus, no one says that anymore.

"He'd make catcalls at us girls with his mates, and he used to flirt with me constantly," Molly went on, clearly enjoying Ron's discomfort.

"I don't believe it," Ron shook his head, making sure to hide his oncoming smile.

"Did I tell you about our favorite spot in the Library?" Molly asked Ron. "It was completely secluded, and no one ever caught-"

"Mum, I will vomit all over you," Ron promised her, but she just laughed it off. "You can't torture your children with such vile imagery."

"Well, it's where you came from," Molly said in a motherly voice.

"Ugh…" Ron pulled a face. "Please, stop."

"Fine," Molly giggled.

"So… Why is he not a 'bad boy' anymore?" Ron asked, tightening his hold on her hand. She's so small now. I used to look up at her in order to tug at her apron, and she'd crouch down to talk to me.

"People change," Molly replied, and Ron nodded slowly. "He realized that a war was brewing, and that he wanted to keep me by his side. We promised each other that we'd marry right after Graduation, and that we'd never leave each other's sights. Believe it, or not, but your Great-Aunt Muriel offered her home for the ceremony."

"Really?" Ron asked. "Doesn't she hate us Weasleys?"

"No, she's just… harsh…" Molly replied. "But she is reliable when she is needed. It's why your father and I tried to keep her in our lives, despite her constant rudeness. But that all ended when your brothers blew a Dung-Bomb under her seat."

"She cut them out of her will," Ron remembered.

"She was right to," Molly told Ron, who blinked at her. "The twins damaged her sense of smell… She can't smell anything anymore."

"What?" Ron was quite taken aback. "Why didn't she go to a Healer?"

"She did, but she's very old," Molly replied. "And the treatment was needlessly expensive at the time. She decided that there was nothing worth smelling anyway, and that she didn't need her nose to be the Head of the Prewett Family."

"I had no idea," Ron said slowly. "She's here tonight, isn't she?"

"She is," Molly replied. "I saw her briefly, and she asked if the papers were telling the truth about you. When I confirmed the stories, she still refused to believe me."

"Why?" Ron asked.

"She said that 'You didn't have it in you'," Molly shrugged. "Your father and I didn't like that very much, so we made an excuse and left. She's even more bitter than the last time I saw her."

"Maybe I should avoid her," Ron suggested.

"If you see her, I expect you to greet her," Molly said, and Ron gave a nod. Fair enough, she is Family. "Though she might have left already, I haven't seen her since our chat." Molly then looked up at him. "Merlin, you're really tall."

"Good of you to notice," Ron sniggered. "If I look straight ahead, I can't see your head."

"You've grown up so much," Molly hugged him, and Ron tensed a little.

"Mum… Are you sad?" Ron asked slowly.

"A little," Molly replied. "I miss the days when you were tiny, or when you used to run around naked." That never happened! I am not a pervert! "Every morning, I'd open your door, and you'd rush past me naked. We'd all chase you into a corner, and then your brothers would hold you down while I put on your trousers. You would scream and resist, but I think you really enjoyed our little games of cat and mouse."

"If you want, I can do that over the Break," Ron chuckled. "You can chase me down once again."

"If you ran around the Burrow naked now, I'd chase you down with my wand instead of your trousers," Molly laughed.

They danced quietly for the last few seconds of the song, and when it finished, Molly pulled back and dabbed the corners of her eyes. She's still smiling, so I don't think that she's completely sad. She's just… nostalgic.

"That was fun, right?" Ron decided to ask.

"It was, and you didn't step on my toes even once," Molly smiled and patted his cheeks.

"I was being very careful," Ron patted his own back.

"The ladies and I need a breather!" Celestine's voice boomed. "We'll be right back after a short five minute recess!"

"Let's go find dad?" Ron offered his arm, and Molly took it.

They began making their way around the dancefloor, and it didn't take long for Ron to spot his father standing with Bill, Charlie, and Kirsten. Who was his partner? I bet it was Bill.

"I've brought her back, safe and sound," Ron greeted his father, and Molly walked up and took Arthur's hand.

"So? How was he?" Arthur asked.

"Not as bad as he claimed," Molly smiled at Ron.

"Really?" Charlie asked. "I swear I saw Daphne limping just before." What?

"Did you really?" Ron asked quickly. "She limped?" Ron, you dumb cunt.

"Relax, it wasn't that bad," Charlie said calmingly. "I think her toes were just a little sore."

"Great…" Ron muttered, a pang of guilt bludgeoning his brain. And I was making jokes about it…

"He really is smitten, isn't he?" Bill laughed, and then he patted Ron's back.

"I told you," Charlie grinned at Bill.

"I'm not smitten," Ron frowned a little. "Now if you will excuse me, I need to go find Daphne and apologize."

With that, Ron quickly started searching for his girlfriend. He even ignored his brothers sniggering to themselves, and his mother having a chuckle alongside his father. Just find Lord Greengrass, and she'll be with him. Ron moved past a few guests, waved at a couple of Veelas, and then found himself standing behind Mary.

"Mary," Ron tapped her shoulder, and she turned around with a smile.

"Ron, I haven't spoken to you all night," Mary said, her face was slightly flushed. The adults are having too much fun here. "How has your evening been?"

"Productive," Ron smiled back.

"Just productive?" Mary asked in a teasing voice. "You didn't slink away in order to try some alcohol?"

"No…" Ron replied. "Why would I do that?"

"Yes, why would you?" Mary couldn't help but laugh. "I commend your responsible behavior, despite how boring it sounds." Boring? "Now, what can I do for you?"

"I was looking for Daphne," Ron replied. "She and I danced together, and I… stepped on her toes… I think she's hurt."

"Ron, I just saw her, and she was quite alright," Mary assured him.

"Are you sure?" Ron asked.

"Yes, you worry too much," Mary replied. "You'll go bald before you're even thirty at this rate." I'll be dead before I'm even twenty at this rate.

"I could pull off being bald," Ron said, and Mary looked him over.

"Oh, love, no…" she shook her head. "I can imagine you being bald right now, and it's very creepy."

"Yay, she hurt my feelings," Ron sniggered.

"I only tease," she pinched his cheek, and then she spotted her husband not too far behind Ron. "There they are, let's go."

Mary took his arm, and she all but dragged him over to Lord Greengrass and Daphne. Does alcohol give people more strength? If so, I should get drunk before the Tournament.

"Husband, daughter," Mary waved them over, and Ron spotted Tori and Luna talking to Blaise and Millie not too far away. They look like they're having fun.

"Ron, did you dance with your mother?" Daphne asked, and Ron gave her a nod.

And then, Ron scanned her feet. Her dress is hiding them away.

"What are you doing?" Lord Greengrass asked him, while Daphne shot a quick look to her amused mother.

"Ron thinks that he hurt her feet while they were dancing," Mary told them. "He's been fretting about it."

"I don't fret," Ron denied, and all three Greengrasses cocked eyebrows at him. "This whole Family is trying to hurt my feelings, I just know it."

"My feet are fine, Ron," Daphne smiled at him.

"But you should learn to dance," Lord Greengrass added, which earned him scowls from his wife and daughter. "What? It's true."

"Let's go over there, Ron," Daphne walked up and took Ron's arm, much to Mary's amusement.

The pair of them quickly moved away from Lord and Lady Greengrass, and once they were out of earshot, Daphne stopped and turned to face him.

"Ignore my father," Daphne said rather gently. "My feet are fine, Ron. It just takes practice."

"Right," Ron made a mental note.

"I was thinking that I could teach you," Daphne volunteered.

"To dance?" Ron asked.

"To dance, and to speak French," Daphne replied.

"French as well?"

"Ron, you can't be an International Diplomat to the French, and not speak their language," Daphne said. "They'd plot things right in front of you, wouldn't they?"

"But learning French will take time," Ron said. "I mean, I love the idea, but…" But I don't have time to spare.

"We'll figure it out," Daphne took a step towards him. "Now, I want you to dance with Luna for the next dance, while I dance with Tori."

"You can dance with Tori?" Ron asked.

"It's acceptable because of our age," Daphne replied. "Not to mention that we're sisters. Don't tell Tori this, but I think she loves dancing with me."

"Well, I just saw them over there," Ron pointed them out.

---

Saturday 28th November, 1993 (The Gala – Late Night)

Once the dancing had come to an end, Minister Fudge and Madam Bones had taken the stage, while the guests waited to be addressed. Ron had decided to stick with his friends, most of whom had no idea that Ron was about to be made an International Diplomat. As they all waited together, Ron took the time to look around himself to gauge everyone's current mood.

Most of them looked rather happy, and Ron figured that the alcohol had helped with that. The only ones who look sour are former Death-Eaters. They really do despise the Veela Community, don't they? Ron looked back to the stage, and he noticed a blonde haired woman with a strong jaw waiting by the foot of the stage. Behind her was a floating, acid-green quill, which seemed to be ready to take notes on a floating notepad.

"Daphne, who is that woman?" Ron nudged his head in her direction.

"That's Rita Skeeter," Daphne replied, and Ron's expression turned cold.

"The one who wrote that article about Sirius," Ron remembered.

"At least she backed off after one article," Daphne said.

"St. Mungo's fire was the story to report on," Ron figured. "She doesn't strike me as a person who has limits." The things she wrote about Sirius were just cruel, and she turned a victim into some deranged psychopath in the eyes of the public. And for what? Just because she could.

"Don't brood, we're in public," Theo nudged him, and Ron fixed his expression.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Fudge spoke loudly, and Ron spotted Umbridge standing behind him. "My fellow wizards and witches, I hope you have enjoyed your night thus far! We won't stall the Gala for long, but some important words must be said!"

Fudge then looked to Madam Bones, who took the center of the stage.

"Firstly, the Ministry would like to thank all of you fine humanitarians for answering the summons," Madam Bones started. "With your help tonight, we will begin charting a course for a better tomorrow. We expect St. Mungo's to be restored by the end of the year." That fast? "We have many contractors who are eager to get started, and none of this would be possible without you. Your Ministry thanks you for your devotion, and all of you will be rewarded in due time."

"The British Ministry would also like to thank our French guests tonight for their generous donations," Madam Bones said, and Ron stood up straighter. "It has been a long time since we all stood under the same roof, and no Curses were fired. It gladdens me to know that in times of strife, we can look past each other's differences, and come together as the Children of Magic."

The French gave nods, while a few British looked rather disgusted.

"And lastly, we would like address those who made this union of countries possible," Madam Bones said, and Ron drew in a deep breath. "Mr. Ronald Bilius Weasley, and Madame Olympe Maxime."

A light was showered on Ron and Madame Maxime, and he could hear the reporters taking photos from the sidelines. Daphne had linked their arms during the speech, and Ron had no doubt that she'd appear right next to him in tomorrow's Daily Prophet. As it should be.

"Mr. Weasley and Madame Maxime took it upon themselves to do more for this country in its hour of need," Madam Bones went on. "As such, the French and British Ministries have seen fit to reward these two individuals for their endeavors. They are both to be made International Diplomats in regards to our two countries, and may their friendship serve as an example to the rest of us. We have all been divided for far too long."

The guests broke into loud chatter, with a majority of them shooting Ron and Madame Maxime surprised looks. Rita Skeeter was looking quite scandalized, while her quill was furiously taking down notes. Camera flashes rang throughout the Ballroom, and Ron made sure to smile. But more importantly, he made sure to look like he was calm. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the surprised looks on his friends' faces, and Ron decided that it was best to ignore that for now. I'll explain later.

"Let us make our donations now, shall we?!" Fudge said loudly, once again taking the center of the stage. He sounds like he's in a hurry now. "Bond-Collectors, please start collecting!"

The chatter was still ongoing, and Ron noticed that Madam Dolores Umbridge was staring at him with a venomous smile. Don't do it, Ron. Ron smiled and waved at her, and her face twitched as she looked away from him. Hehe. That's for Remus, you bitch. The Bond-Collectors moved through the guests with large boxes, and once they got to Ron, he slipped the Weasley Bond inside the box. Done.

"An International Diplomat?" Theo whispered, and Ron looked to see an almost envious look on Theo's face. "Why didn't you tell any of us, mate?"

"It was all very hush-hush," Ron told them, a smile breaking out on his face when he saw Luna looking rather happy with him. "Only a handful of people knew about it, and even I wasn't sure that they'd give me the position."

"Wait… You got them to make you an International Diplomat?" Millie asked.

"How?" Blaise asked right after.

"I told them that if they didn't give me what I want, I'd tell the French to stay home," Ron shrugged. "The Ministry needed the money, and I had the means to provide said money. Madame Maxime and I have been working together over the last two weeks to make this happen."

"You'll be so famous in Slytherin now!" Tori beamed. "I can already see people paying me tribute!" You? What about me?

"Tori, Ron's new job isn't yours to exploit," Daphne warned. "Don't make things any harder on him, understand?"

"You knew about this?" Pansy asked Daphne, who gave a nod. "Aw… He didn't tell us…"

"Ron told me because he was stressed out of his mind," Daphne assured them. "I tried my best to help him, but he did everything by himself."

"Figures," Millie smirked. "Congratulations, Ron. We're really happy for you."

"Congratulations," they all said, and Ron gave them grateful nods. Theo and Blaise look slightly bothered. I'll talk to them later.

"An International Diplomat now?" came the cold voice of Lucius Malfoy, and Ron felt his smile die away. Wretch.

Ron turned to see Lucius Malfoy 'smiling' down at him as he was taller than Ron, which only served to anger Ron even more. Murderer.

"Your influence continues to grow, Mr. Weasley," Lucius looked him over, while his friends, save for Daphne, stepped away slightly. "Like a disease, of course."

"There is no need for such coldness, Lord Malfoy," Daphne spoke up, she had felt Ron's entire demeanor change. "This is a Charity Event, after all. We are all here to help."

"You sound quite like your father," Lucius looked to Daphne, a cold look on his face. "Attempting to imitate him won't earn you his favor, girl." Lucius then looked to Ron. "A mute International Diplomat?"

"We have no words to exchange," Ron said coldly, his eyes fixed on Lucius'. We'll tear out your ribcage, and wear it as a hat. "Leave."

"How very Weasley of you," Lucius smirked at him.

"Leave, I won't warn you again," Ron all but whispered.

"Ron…" Daphne whispered.

"Listen to the girl, Mr. Weasley," Lucius scoffed, he had expected more from this boy. "Polite conversation is-"

"I will break your son's fingers tonight," Ron said bluntly, meaning every single word.

Lucius stopped mid-sentence, while Ron's friends all went dead quiet themselves.

"Leave, or I swear on my Magic, I will break his fingers," Ron told Lucius, who blinked at Ron with a slightly wary look.

"And risk expulsion?" Lucius challenged, his icy mask returning. "Or incarceration?"

"Try me," Ron let go of Daphne's arm as he stepped into Lucius' face. "You wretched woman."

The two of them stared at each other, and Ron felt the urge to grab Lucius by his throat. I should kill him, just like he tried to kill Ginny.

"If you touch Draco-" Lucius started.

"If you leave right now, I won't harm him," Ron cut him off. "Turn around, and walk away. I am not my father, Lucius. I'll make you bleed for sneering down at me."

Lucius looked over to Ron's friends, all of whom avoided eye-contact with the man. And then, Lucius turned around and walked off with a dark look on his face. Ron turned his head and cracked his neck, a feeling of cool relief washing over him. Fucking Death-Eater scum. Ron's friends exchanged looks, and they all decided to stay quiet for now. It was usually best to not bother Ron when his mood was darkened.

---

Twenty Minutes Later

It had taken twenty minutes of Daphne speaking to him gently for him to finally start returning to normal. Deep down, Ron was still angry at seeing the man who was responsible for so much of Ginny's pain, but at the same time, Ron was beginning to feel regret as well. He shouldn't have threatened Draco Malfoy's safety, not after everything Draco had been through.

Unlike the rest of his friends, Ron went out of his way to make Malfoy feel welcome in the group. It wasn't easy, as they both had so much bad blood between them, but Ron knew how terrible isolation was. And so, Ron kept trying to reach out to him, even if Malfoy himself constantly shoved Ron away. Or punch me away. He throws a decent right hook, I'll give him that. Ron couldn't deny that he had an odd form of friendship with the platinum-blonde wizard, and if he was being completely honest, he liked this odd friendship. We 'hate' each other, but we're also… companions.

"Ron, everything is set," Daphne nudged him, and Ron broke out of his thoughts. "Theo and Blaise have set out on their mission, so we should talk to the reporters now."

"What about our parents?" Ron asked her, they were still standing on the dance floor.

"Father said that it's best if they don't take part in this," Daphne told him. "Having adults at your side will… diminish… your new image."

"You mean it'll make me look less in control?" Ron asked slowly, and Daphne nodded. Fair enough.

"He did ask me to remind you about our Family Alliance," Daphne said, and Ron smirked a little. Of course he did. "Do you feel better? Not as angry?"

"I'm more ashamed than angry," Ron whispered, and Daphne waited for him to go on. "Threatening Malfoy was wrong… I just got so angry at seeing Lucius Malfoy… I shouldn't say such things." Especially about someone who is mourning his Family's separation.

"No, you shouldn't," Daphne agreed. "But I know that you said them out of anger, Ron. You wouldn't hurt Malfoy, not after working so hard to keep him around. Now… I won't pretend to know why you keep him around, but I'm sure that you have a valid reason."

"I do," Ron said quickly.

"Then learn from this," Daphne smiled at him. "Otherwise, Malfoy will run off." And then, he'll get himself killed. "Want to talk to the reporters now? The sooner we finish up with them, the sooner we can sneak off to get drunk."

"Tipsy, you mean," Ron said, and Daphne pouted at him. "Daph… I have training tomorrow. I can't show up in a sorry state, Madam Roberts will have my hide."

"Fine, we'll get really tipsy instead of drunk," Daphne decided, and Ron gave a reluctant nod. Getting drunk sounds like a waste of time. I could spend the night sharpening my Non-Verbal Magic instead. "Let's go?"

Ron took Daphne's arm, and they began making their way towards the sidelines. Ron spotted his Family speaking with the Greengrasses not too far away, and Bill shot him a wink when their eyes met. Ron smiled a little, happy to see that Bill wasn't looking worried on his behalf. I wonder where he ran off to tonight. I barely saw him.

"Mr. Weasley! Over here!" a reporter shouted, and camera flashes started going off.

"Please, one at a time," Ron said, he couldn't make sense of their shouting.

"Did you know that you were going to be named the youngest International Diplomat in British History tonight?" a reporter asked.

"I was in the talks with the Minister Fudge and Madam Bones," Ron replied. "We all came to an agreement prior to the Gala."

"And were Madame Maxime and the French Minister involved in these talks?" a reporter asked.

"Madame Maxime and I were in contact throughout the process," Ron replied. "I approached her with the idea of bringing the Old French Families to Britain for this Gala, and together, we managed to accomplish our goal."

"Do you think it's wise to bring the French here?" Rita Skeeter asked, she had shoved one of the reporters out of her way. "Our countries have been at odds for over a decade, so surely, many of them will have plans against our country."

"I think that someone has to take the first step," Ron replied, making sure to keep his nerves in check. "For over a decade, we have been divided, and as a result of that, hatred has festered between us. I believe that by taking the first step, Madame Maxime and I have begun the healing process. It will be a long, and difficult journey, but I believe that together, she and I can make a positive change."

"And what of the British Families?" Rita asked right after. "Many of them have voiced their displeasure with you tonight, and after your appointment, I saw quite a lot of angry faces."

"As I said, the road ahead is long and difficult," Ron replied. "Many of the British Families are scared of change, and I won't say that they shouldn't be. I can only hope that they will see the overwhelming benefits of our countries working together, and learn to let go of old vendettas."

"Just one last question, Mr. Weasley!" Rita yelled over the other reporters, all of whom looked rather pissed with her. "Have you put your Chess Career behind you in favor of becoming a Ministry Official?"

"Not at all," Ron replied, making sure to tighten his hold on Daphne's arm. My fucking arms are shaking because of how nervous I am. "I am still Lord Greengrass' apprentice, and I plan to continue my Chess Career until I earn the title of Chess Master."

"Do you really have the time now?" a reporter asked. "Being an International Diplomat is a demanding job, and you have other responsibilities such as school."

"I will only serve as an International Diplomat to the French," Ron told them. "This means that I won't be as busy as my fellow Ministry Officials, which will give me time to stay focused on Chess and Hogwarts."

"Are you two dating?!" a chubby reporter asked, he was wearing a badge representing Witch Weekly.

"We are," Daphne decided to speak up, she could feel Ron's arm trembling.

"And how long has that been going on?" the reporter asked excitedly.

"We became a couple at the start of November," Daphne smiled at Ron. "But we have been close friends ever since we started Hogwarts."

"How did you two meet?" the chubby reporter asked, and the other reporters frowned at him for wasting questions.

"We met right after Ron's Sorting," Daphne laughed, hoping that her happy mood would make Ron less tense. "Within a week, we had all become fast friends." Lies!

"Mr. Weasley, what does Lord Greengrass have to say about your new job?" a reporter from the Daily Prophet cut off the chubby reporter.

"He has been nothing but supportive," Ron replied. "Lord and Lady Greengrass are very experienced people, and I am proud to count them amongst my friends and advisors."

"Will you be working with your own father at the Ministry?" a reporter asked.

"We will be working in different Departments, but I plan to drop by his Office for lunch as often as I can," Ron replied. "Maybe, if Fate wills it, we might work together on a project."

"Just a couple more questions, please," Daphne announced, and the reporters began yelling over each other.

"Mr. Weasley, I'm from Chess Weekly!" a man called out, and Ron's ears perked up.

"Yes?" Ron looked to him, while the other reporters looked rather vexed.

"Are you planning to compete in any Tournaments soon?" the reporter asked. "Your fans would love a heads up." My fans? I can't believe I have fans.

"I will be taking part in the Tournament being held at Flourish and Blotts on the fifth of December," Ron replied.

"And what are your chances of winning this Tournament?" the reporter asked. "It's hard to bet against you after your legendary win in France."

"I don't know my competition, so I can't honestly answer that question with full certainty," Ron replied. "All I can say is that Lord Greengrass and I have been hard at work, and we have high expectations for a win."

More reporters tried to ask questions, but Daphne told them that they had said enough. Dozens of photos were taken, and Ron and Daphne both began to head back towards the dancefloor. On the way, Ron spotted Madame Maxime speaking a bunch of reporters, and Rita Skeeter was one of them. Wow, she moves fast.

"Are you alright?" Daphne whispered. "Ron, you're shaking."

"Nerves," Ron admitted. "I didn't want to say anything stupid… Do you think I did alright?"

"I think you did just fine," Daphne smiled at him. "It gets easier, I promise."

"You remember what you said about Dueling?" Ron asked. "Well, I've decided that I don't like speaking to reporters. It puts me on edge."

"You did well, Ron," Daphne tightened her hold on his arm. "Let's get out of here, and then finally enjoy ourselves."

"Sure," Ron agreed, maybe relaxing a little would help his nerves.

As they turned to leave, Ron spotted Victor Burke in the crowd. The former Slytherin was watching Ron with an easy smile on his face, and when their eyes met, Victor subtly nudged his head towards the restrooms. He wants to talk? I have people watching me.

"Daph, I'll meet you in the Gardens," Ron said, and Daphne blinked at him. "I need to use the loo."

"Oh," Daphne nodded. "Alright, do you know where to meet us?"

"On the outskirts," Ron replied, and she let go of his arm.

"Don't take too long," Daphne said, and then she quietly slipped past the other guests.

Ron began making his way over to the restrooms, and along the way, he smiled and shook hands with passing congratulators. Certain Families have taken my new appointment well, but a majority of them aren't pleased. Not to mention that the Aurors are watching me now. Why aren't they watching men like Lucius Malfoy? Damn morons.

Ron slipped into the men's room, and he immediately saw Victor waiting for him.

"The conquering hero," Victor smiled his disturbing smile. "I was hoping to run into you tonight."

"Are we alone?" Ron looked around.

"We are," Victor replied. "Is someone watching you, Ronald?"

Ron didn't say anything, instead, he walked over to the mirror in order to check his appearance.

"The Aurors," Victor nodded slowly. "I noticed a certain Head Auror staring at you while you spoke to the reporters. You've made yourself far too easy to see."

"Speaking from experience?" Ron looked to Victor. Why am I even talking to him?

"They have Aurors stationed outside my shop," Victor told Ron. "They're good at concealing themselves, but the residents of Knockturn Alley have a certain charm to them that the Aurors can't mimic. They're easy enough to spot."

"Did you give them a reason to watch you?" Ron asked.

"Yes," Victor chuckled. "But they'll get nothing. They are wasting their time with me, while other key players are making moves."

"Key players?" Ron asked.

"That information will cost you, Ronald," Victor tutted.

"Of course it will," Ron frowned a little. I need to know what's happening in Knockturn Alley. "What do you want?"

"I want your word that you'll owe me a favor," Victor replied. "Since we are old friends, I won't ask anything dishonorable of you."

"We have different definitions of the word 'dishonorable'," Ron pointed out.

"I suppose," Victor smiled. "Well? Do I have your word?"

Ron stared at Victor for a few moments, and for the life of him, he couldn't read the handsome young man.

"Find someone else," Ron turned to leave. I'm not risking myself for a bit of information.

"How about I tell you what my favor will be, and then you can decide if it's worth it?" Victor suggested, and Ron stopped.

"Go on," Ron turned around.

"I have a… dangerous… artefact in my wares," Victor told Ron. "I am looking for a buyer, but with the Aurors breathing down my neck, I can't move around freely. I need someone who is well-connected to find me a buyer for this artefact."

"What is this artefact?" Ron asked. "I need to know, Victor."

"It's a Cursed Orb," Victor replied. "One that is Charmed to release a deadly poison into the air should it be opened."

"A weapon, you mean?" Ron frowned.

"You could call it that," Victor shrugged. "It's clearly a creation of the Wizards of Old, so it'll make me a fortune. Plus, your buyer will most likely be a rich Pure-Blood who will store it away in his collection."

"Or open it in the middle of a street," Ron shook his head. "Sorry, I don't want any part of this."

"You can keep twenty-five percent of the profits," Victor told him.

"Twenty-five?" Ron was a little taken aback. "You really want this item gone, don't you?"

"Yes," Victor replied. "Twenty-five percent, and information. That's a good deal, Ronald. You ought to at least consider it."

Ron narrowed his eyes on Victor, his mind trying to come up with plans. Gornuk will no doubt know about potential buyers, so I should at least talk to him. I need the money, but at the same time, this weapon sounds dangerous. Wait… Maybe I can speak to Emilia about this. If she does join me, then we could use this weapon on the Dark Lord's forces.

"How much money will this item sell for?" Ron asked.

"Five thousand Galleons, easily," Victor replied. "This artefact is Ancient, and therefore, quite the gem."

"What's stopping me from turning you in?" Ron asked.

"You're not stupid," Victor replied.

"I'll… think about it," Ron said.

"That is all I ask for," Victor smiled. "I will see you again when the time is right."

Ron gave a parting nod, and then he left the men's room. Merlin, he gives me the creeps. Ron quickly made his way towards the back of the Ballroom, his eyes scanning for Rufus Scrimgeour, or any other Aurors. I don't see anyone, but that means nothing. It took him well over ten minutes to make it outside, mostly because people kept getting in his way. The French were congratulating him, while the British were eyeballing as if he were some traitor.

As Ron stepped out into the cool night, he saw the Carrow twins arguing in a shadowy corner. What's that about? Ron felt the urge to be on his way, but he decided to speak with his first years anyway.

"Hestia, Flora," Ron greeted, and they quickly turned to face him. Did Hestia just hide something behind her back?

"Hello, Ron," they greeted together.

"Congratulations on your new job," Hestia said, not a hint of expression on her face.

"When the House hears about this, you will be elevated further," Flora said, a small smile on her face.

"Thank you," Ron smiled at them. "I didn't get a chance to meet your parents tonight."

"Good," Hestia said, and Ron blinked at her. "They're very much against you, we fear. It would've made things terribly awkward for us."

"If you do see them, please avoid them," Flora requested.

"Alright," Ron agreed, and then he looked to Hestia.

"Yes, Ron?" Hestia asked.

"Really?" Ron sniggered. "Don't make me turn you around, young Lady."

"You're so stupid, Hestia," Flora frowned at her sister.

"You're the one who picked such a big bottle," Hestia frowned back.

"Bottle?" Ron asked. "Alright, show me."

Hestia slowly showed him a bottle of unopened wine, while Flora averted her gaze.

"You two…" Ron felt his temper flare. "You plan to drink all of this by yourselves? What happens when you two get caught drunk at the age of eleven?"

"Actually, we plan to share it," Hestia told him. What?

"Hestia, don't tell him that," Flora groaned. "You're so stupid!"

"You're stupid!" Hestia snapped back.

"You're both stupid," Ron towered over them, and they went dead silent. "Now tell me who you plan to share this with? Is it Astoria? Did she put you up to this?" I fucking know she did. Hestia and Flora don't behave this way.

"Well, not really," Hestia replied. "We all decided to try some."

"Who?" Ron asked.

"John, Astoria, Lysandra, Luna-"

"Luna?" Ron blinked. "Luna Lovegood?"

"Astoria wants us to be nice to your sister," Flora tried to appease him. "So we invited her to join us."

"You think I'm going to commend you for involving my sister into this?" Ron asked her, and Flora blinked at him.

"Smooth, Flora," Hestia smirked.

"Shut up," Flora frowned at her sister. Why are they being so hostile to each other?

"Ron, we're just trying to enjoy ourselves," Hestia looked to him. "We won't get drunk, we're not stupid."

"Please?" Flora poked his side weakly. "We promised the others that we'd find something, and if we come back empty handed, they'll make fun of us."

"Give me the bottle," Ron said, their words meant nothing to him.

"Ron, just let them have it," came Samantha's voice from behind him, and Ron turned to see Samantha smiling at them. Nice!

"They're eleven…" Ron said.

"So what?" Samantha shrugged. "It's just something that kids do at that age. You yourself threw parties with plenty of alcohol being passed around, remember?"

"That was different," Ron looked back to the twins. "The parties I threw were inside the Slytherin common room, not in the middle of the Minister's Manor."

"They won't get caught," Samantha assured him. "And even if they do, no one will care. People will just say that they're kids being kids."

Ron looked back to Samantha, and she gave him a meaningful look.

"Fine…" Ron decided to relent, he didn't want the first years to feel angry with him. "But if they get in trouble, it's on you."

"Thank you," the twins smiled at Samantha, and then they quickly slipped away before Ron could change his mind.

"You're far too serious," Samantha walked up to him. "But I suppose that your seriousness is your strength as well. Congratulations, Ron, you have stolen the night."

"Thank you," Ron relaxed a little.

"An International Diplomat," Samantha smiled at him, her eyes looking him over. "You certainly shut my parents up tonight."

"Your parents?" Ron asked.

"They're wretched people, really," Samantha said, her smile still in place. "They were 'disgusted' to see the Weasley Family here tonight, and they kept making jokes about your Family's financial troubles." Two more dead bodies, then.

"They didn't take my new appointment well, I assume," Ron smirked.

"No, they did not," Samantha chuckled. "My father had half a mind to pull his donation back."

"Wow," Ron shook his head. "How would that help him?"

"It wouldn't, but he's an idiot of the highest order," Samantha replied. "Luckily, I was nearby and I talked some sense into him. They both left in protest, by the way, and not a single person followed them out. Quite embarrassing."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ron said. "How does someone like you come from parents like that?"

"The Universe is a cruel beast," Samantha smiled at his words. "I will be rid of them very soon, I promise."

"What are your plans?" Ron asked.

"Are you going to help me?" Samantha placed her finger under his chin. Yes.

"I help all my friends," Ron smiled at her, she smelled quite nice. "I know powerful people, Samantha, and I won't ask for anything in return."

"You won't?" Samantha asked, her smile faltering for a moment. Did I say something wrong?

"I swear on my Magic," Ron raised his gloved hand. "If you need my help, just come and ask."

"I'll remember that," Samantha pulled her finger back, her smile becoming warmer. "I'd give you a kiss, but there are too many eyes here."

"A kiss?" Ron blinked.

"Carey and Clara have done it, so why shouldn't I?" Samantha smirked, she liked that he was easily flustered when it came to sexuality. "They both mentioned that you have very soft lips."

"Which are reserved for my girlfriend," Ron said, he could feel his 'mind shield' moving to his forehead.

"It won't be scandalous, of course," Samantha promised. "Just a sign of my affection for you."

With that, Samantha turned around to leave.

"I'm heading home for the night," Samantha told him. "Try and relax a little, Ron. Find your friends, and enjoy their company."

And just like that, she was walking away from him. Ron's eyes moved to her hips on instinct, and judging by her walk, she knew that he was staring. Bloody hell, she has a nice figure. I guess I never really noticed because of Clara's bust. Ron quickly found himself thinking of Future Daphne, and a smile broke out on his face. I can't wait!

Ron began making his way down the marble veranda, and just as he was about to enter the Gardens, he spotted Great-Aunt Muriel speaking to a few older guests. Oh, fuck! Run, Ron! Before Ron could turn around, Muriel's red-rimmed, blood-shot eyes found him. She still had a beak-like nose, was extremely bony, and her sneer was exactly as Ron remembered.

"Ah… The boy wonder himself," Muriel said, and her friends looked to Ron. "This here is my Great-Nephew."

"Great-Aunt Muriel," Ron put on a smile, while he screamed internally. "You look well."

"Excuse me, I will return shortly," Muriel told her friends, and then she walked over to Ron. "Let me have a look at you, boy." Boy?

Ron stood still, while she circled him with critical eyes.

"Merlin, you Weasleys grow almost as fast as you breed," she sneered. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that were some uncatalogued type of creature. Do you steal food from other people's plates, boy? How could you possibly look like this?"

"I don't please you?" Ron asked.

"It's not natural for a thirteen year old to look like this," Muriel stopped in front of him.

"Right," Ron said, his expression becoming slightly cold. Should I really let her walk all over me?

"What? Did I offend you?" she asked. "You Weasleys are too easily bothered… And here I started to believe that you were indeed some Prodigy."

"Is it fun to be so cruel to others?" Ron asked her, and she blinked at him.

"What are you on about?" Muriel asked.

"We just met after years, and you didn't even bother to greet me properly," Ron replied. "Let's start over." Ron then smiled at her. "It is good to see you again, Aunt Muriel. How have you been?"

"A little backbone in you, at least…" Aunt Muriel scoffed. "And you'd know how I've been if you ever bothered to send a letter."

"You didn't send any to me," Ron shrugged. "I figured that you didn't want anything to do with us after the twins played that prank on you."

"Trust me, I didn't," Muriel replied. "But then I heard that you were making allies with the proper Families, and I was quite shocked. I figured that you'd send one to me, but lo and behold, not a single letter. Do you not have Prewett Blood in you, boy? Are we not Family?" Wait… Is she upset because I didn't come to her when I first started out?

"Oh…" Ron muttered, and she sneered at him.

"I'll be expecting a formal letter, then?" Muriel spoke in a tone that suggested that Ron was an imbecile. Another ally.

"I'll have one sent by Monday morning," Ron agreed.

"And don't send it with one of those Hogwarts Owls, they shit wherever they land," Muriel ordered. "Ask one of your rich friends for theirs."

With that, Muriel turned around and walked back to her friends, leaving a confused Ron behind. What just happened? Ron slowly began to walk towards the outskirts, he still didn't like Great-Aunt Muriel.

---

Pansy Parkinson's POV

Saturday 28th November, 1993 (The Gala – Late Night)

She was still a little tipsy, but she was doing her best to act normal because her friends wouldn't let her drink any more in her current state.

"There he is," Millie pointed, and they all looked to see Ron approaching them. He'll look for Longbottom first, just to make sure that his 'plan' is still in motion.

Ron's eyes scanned for Longbottom, and when he saw the Gryffindor, his eyes became relaxed. He's so cute! I wonder why Longbottom is here though.

"Neville," Ron smiled, and Longbottom waved at him. "I'm glad you're here." I bet you are.

"Greengrass invited me," Longbottom told Ron. "But I'm not going to drink."

"What?" Ron laughed.

"C'mon, Longbottom, show us that Gryffindor courage," Theo smirked. "Just a couple of sips."

"I… Just a couple," Longbottom agreed reluctantly.

"So what are we drinking?" Ron asked.

"This," Theo presented the bottle of Odgen's Finest. "I nicked it from the cellars."

"You stole from the Minister?" Longbottom looked horrified.

"One of my greatest moments," Theo grinned, and Pansy couldn't help but giggle. No, Pansy. Act sober. "I'll open it, take a sip, and pass it around."

Theo took a sip, and then he handed the bottle to Pansy with a deep grimace.

"Fuck… That burns…" Theo coughed out.

"Is it bitter?" Millie asked.

"No, it just burns," Theo cleared his throat. "Go on, Pansy." Don't mind if I do!

---

Thirty Minutes Later

"I feel sick," Longbottom mumbled from the grass.

The bottle was finished, and Pansy's entire World was swirling.

"This was strong stuff," Blaise nodded, he was sitting up with his back against a bench. "Now what?"

"You want to play some sort of game?" Theo asked.

"Game?" Ron asked.

"Oh, we usually do something after we drink," Millie told him. "Run around, play tag, or arm wrestle."

"It's more fun when you're drunk," Pansy smiled lazily. My face is tired.

"So you really did this often?" Ron asked, and they all shrugged. It was Malfoy's idea, I think.

"Let's play tag," Daphne suggested, she was clinging to Ron's torso.

"I like tag," Pansy agreed, she wanted to run around and be unladylike. Mother can sod off.

"Can I sit this out?" Longbottom asked.

"No," they all said together. He's kind of cute. Not chubby at all, and growing.

"Ron's it," Blaise elected, and Ron grinned at him.

"I'll count to ten," Ron said. "No one is allowed to leave for the other parts of the Gardens. We stay in the outskirts. It's open space, so no one can hide. We keep running. Fair?"

"Fair," they agreed.

"Alright, go on," Ron said.

Pansy quickly shot up to her feet, and she ran as far from Ron as she could. After a minute of running, Pansy looked back to see where Ron was. She smiled widely when she saw Ron chasing Theo, who was squealing, down with a massive grin. I'm not on his radar yet! I can totally win this!

---

Twenty Minutes Later

Blaise had won.

Shortly after getting Theo, Ron had spotted her smiling at him. The chase hadn't lasted long, and before she could even catch her breath, Ron had run off to chase Longbottom down. Unlimited stamina, and really long legs.

"That was fun," Longbottom admitted, he was slightly sweaty.

"He's finally on board," Millie patted Longbottom's back. "Now what?"

"Why doesn't Longbottom tell us about Gryffindor Tower?" Theo asked, and Longbottom blinked at him.

"What? I can't do that," Longbottom refused.

"Oh, we'll tell you about the Slytherin Dungeons," Theo offered. "A fair trade, right?"

"We should tell him about our common room first," Pansy decided. There's more of us, so he can't trust us to keep our word. He looks like the sort who will keep his.

"Well, it's cold, damp, and green," Blaise described.

"You should write a book," Daphne giggled, and the other sniggered at Blaise. "Theo, describe the common room."

"Well, our windows look out into the Black Lake," Theo told Longbottom. "Which is why our common room has an emerald green aura to it. We have large chandeliers of silver hanging from the stone ceiling, and together with a large fireplace, they illuminate the entire common room. Oh, and we have black leather couches and sofas, and polished study desks all throughout the Dungeon."

"It sounds… nice," Longbottom said.

"It's kind of unwelcoming, but it grows on you," Ron said, and Longbottom gave a nod. "Now, your turn."

"Well," Longbottom swallowed thickly. "It's very comfortable… There is a large fireplace, golden chandeliers, the windows let the sun in, and it's got red walls. The seats are a bit weathered, but in a nice, eased-in sort of way." What?

"They feel nice because they're so used?" Pansy asked.

"Um… I don't know how to describe it," Longbottom told her, he was swaying from side to side. "They just feel comfortable, which is great because people often fall asleep because of how peaceful it is in the tower. Comforting, you know. It feels safe." Oh, that does sound nice. "I'm sure Ron's siblings have told him all about it."

Ron and the others sniggered at that.

"They would never do that, mate," Ron assured Neville, an amused smile on his face. "I mean, I'd never tell them about Slytherin either. We take this House business very seriously."

"Well, now you know," Longbottom shrugged. "Don't tell them that I told you."

"He's becoming secretive," Pansy smiled at Longbottom. "We're a bad influence."

"They're just common rooms," Longbottom shrugged again. "I don't really like this House Rivalry business."

"Why?" Blaise asked. "Is it because Gryffindor is losing?"

"Blaise," Millie smacked his arm.

"Sorry," Blaise apologized aloofly.

"No, it's because it divides the students up into groups," Longbottom told them. "It makes them compete, which always turns people nasty. House Rivalry is to blame for all the fighting at Hogwarts, I'm sure of it."

"So it's not just us Slytherins?" Daphne asked.

"No, it's everyone," Longbottom replied. "I've seen arrogant Gryffindors, rude Ravenclaws, excluding Hufflepuffs, and fanatical Slytherins. Each House has bad apples, but because of the House system, we always defend our nasty Housemates from the other Houses, even if our own people are starting the fights. It just creates conflict, is what I'm trying to say."

"I agree," Ron spoke up. "We should just exclude all the nasty people from the Houses. Give them their own House."

"You'd keep the House system, though?" Millie asked.

"I would, but only because it brings likeminded people together," Ron replied. "If all first years were forced to stay together, there'd be so much conflict. But because of the House system, people with similar habits and values are put together."

"That's neat," Theo lied down. "My head is spinning…"

"Are you okay?" Pansy nudged him, and he smiled up at her.

"Just drunk," Theo closed his eyes. He should smile more, he looks more handsome when he smiles.

"Should we start heading back?" Millie asked the others. What? Already? "Theo and Longbottom are falling asleep, and I'm pretty spent myself." Aw…

"Let's go, then," Ron stood up, and then he helped Daphne to her feet. "Remember, we have to act sober."

"Then you should stopping swaying from side to side," Pansy laughed, and Ron shot her a grin.

"Mistakes were made," Ron laughed. No, we had fun together, and that's all that matters. Who cares what other people think? We should just do whatever makes us happiest.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 28th November, 1993 (The Gala – Near Midnight)

"Daphne," Ron rubbed her back, and her eyes fluttered open.

"I'm awake," she slurred. "I'm totally awake…" How is she walking whilst asleep?

"Want me to carry you?" Ron offered.

"We're nearly inside," Daphne shook her head clear. "I can act sober." We're so fucked.

Ron knew that he himself looked out of sorts, and he had tripped over his own two feet twice already. It's because I'm trying to match their slow speed. I'm not drunk at all. Ron shot a look back at Neville, who was only walking straight because Blaise had his hand on Neville's shoulder. His Gran is going to murder me.

"Theo," Ron whispered, and Theo shot a look back. "Why did you get something so strong?"

"I don't even know," Theo shrugged, and then he looked back ahead. His eyes were fluttering as well. Good lord, everyone is going to know that we're drunk. And what about my first years? Merlin, it's over.

"Are you alright?" Pansy nudged him, and Ron shot her a panicked look.

"I think I'm spiraling," Ron told her. "We're going to get caught, I just know it."

"Relax," Pansy giggled. "Daphne, Ron is spiraling."

"Ron, don't do that," Daphne said with closed eyes. Woman! Wake up! We're almost inside!

As they made their way inside, Ron drew in a deep breath, and he felt himself standing on Stoatshead Hill. The feeling calmed him a little, and when he saw that most of the Ballroom was empty, he let out a held breath. We'll be fine. That's when Ron spotted Dumbledore looking over at them, and when their eyes met, he smiled at Ron. He knows! It's over, Ron! As they neared the exit, they all split up in order to find their Families.

"Ron, there you are," Molly let out a relieved breath when she saw him. "Where did you go? We all went looking for you."

"I was… around," Ron said nonchalantly. "Just with my mates." And I was not drinking.

"Are you drunk?" Molly whispered with wide-eyes, and Ron saw his father, Kirsten, and his brothers, except for Percy, grin at him.

"What? No," Ron lied. "Mum… I'd never do that."

"I can smell it on your breath, young man," Molly frowned, and Ron nodded slowly. Walk away, Ron. Just walk away. They can't question you if you're not here.

Ron looked to the exit, and he began walking off. He heard Charlie, Bill, and Kirsten burst into loud laughter, and he could also hear his mother scolding his amused father. That worked out well. Ron walked up to a free fireplace, and he spotted Blaise and Pansy walking up to him hand-in-hand. Oh, what's this?

"Our Families went home without us," Pansy told Ron, but she was smiling. "Blaise offered to escort me home. Isn't that sweet?"

"It is," Ron smiled at Blaise, who just had a distant look on his face. "Blaise?"

"Sorry, brother, but I am about to pass out, I think," Blaise mumbled.

Ron quickly prepared the floo for the Headmaster's Office, and once it was ready, he sent Pansy and Blaise through. I'll wait for the others.

"Fun night?" Madam Roberts tapped his shoulder, and Ron's blood froze. Universe?! Why?!

"Madam Borets," Ron turned around with a smile.

"Roberts, you halfwit," Madam Roberts frowned. Oh, whoops. "I came over to congratulate you on your latest position. It is very impressive, and you did a good thing by bringing the French here. We need all the help that we can get, Politics be damned."

"Oh, thanks," Ron smiled genuinely as he shuffled his feet. "Thank you, Madam Roberts, that means a lot to me coming from you."

Madam Roberts nodded slowly, and then she gave Ron a hint of a smile.

"Get home safe, and I'll see you tomorrow morning," she instructed, and Ron gave her a firm nod.

"Good night, Madam Roberts," Ron said, and she left with a parting nod. She didn't scold me? Could I be that lucky?"

"Ronald, stay right there," his mother's voice came. Apparently not.

"Mum," Ron looked to her, and he saw that Luna was with her. "Luna!"

"Take your sister to her common room," Molly said, and Luna smiled at Ron. "She too got her hands on alcohol." Damn you, Samantha Selwyn. "Merlin, you children…"

"Don't tell mum," Luna tugged at Molly's dress. "Please, Mrs. Weasley?"

Molly looked at Luna, and her features softened immediately.

"Oh, I won't, love," Molly promised. "Just a happy accident, right?"

"Thank you," Luna kissed Molly's cheek, and then she walked up to Ron's side.

"And you, young man," Molly tutted him. "You were very irresponsible, as were your friends. You make sure they all get back to your common room, or I'll be very upset."

"I promise," Ron smiled widely, his eyes drooping. She didn't get too angry, so it's fine.

"Did you have fun tonight?" Ron looked to Luna once Molly was gone.

"I did," Luna nodded. "Thanks for bringing me, Ron. And for the dress. And congratulations on being… I forget."

"An International Diplomat," Ron provided, his arm wrapping around her.

"Yeah, that," she hugged his side. "I'll tell everyone tomorrow."

"You do that," Ron chuckled, and then he hugged her properly. She so little, and huggable.

"Ron?" came Luna's muffled voice.

"I just want to hug you," Ron told her. "Is that alright?"

Luna tightened the hug as her reply, and Ron suddenly felt extremely lightheaded. He felt as though he were floating through the air, and he realized what that meant.

---

Ron found himself standing by the Rookery, which looked much larger than ever. A vision? About Luna? Ron quickly looked around the black-and-white World, his eyes peeled for any color. Nothing. Ron made his way around to the back of the Rookery, and what he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.

A slightly older Luna sat on a stool with a bright smile on her face, and in her lap, was a young boy. Ron knew that this boy was his Godson at first sight, and he found himself smiling widely. He's perfect! Ron quickly moved closer, and he crouched in order to study the boy's face.

"Look at you," Ron beamed. "I'm your Godfather. I know you can't see me, but I'm really glad to see you."

"Luna?! Are you outside?!" came Pandora's voice.

"I'm with Lysander, Mum!" Luna called back, and Ron let out a happy chuckle. Lysander? That's a good name.

"Can you bring him in?!" Pandora asked. "Lunch is ready!"

"Alright!" Luna stood up, and she began walking towards the entrance.

Ron followed after her excitedly, doing his best to catch glimpses of Lysander. Once they were inside, and Lysander was planted in a chair, Ron just stood by his side with a wide smile. The boy was clearly no older than two, and he was doing his best to swat the air around him. He had puffy cheeks, a tiny little body, and a happy smile on his face. So damn adorable.

Ron shook his head clear, and then he found a nearby calendar. I used this calendar to save Pandora's life. It feels so long ago now. What's the date? 20th August, 1995. Almost two years from now. As Ron was gazing at the calendar, he suddenly began hearing a whistling noise. What's that? It sounds like a kettle. Ron looked to the Lovegoods, who were all looking around in confusion.

And then, Pandora's face twisted from horror.

"LUNA!" Pandora screamed, startling even Ron. "SHIELD YOUR BROTH-"

A loud explosion cut her off, and Ron let out a panicked scream as fire and stone passed through him violently. By the time his senses returned, grey fire was burning the entire building around him. Ron stood rooted in his spot for a few moments, his eyes scanning the ruins for clues as to what had just happened. When he finally saw that fiery rubble had taken the Lovegoods' place, Ron began to realize what had transpired. An Explosive Curse… They're dead…

Ron blinked repeatedly, he was too shocked to even feel any pain. Who fired the Spell? Ron felt blood rush to his head, and he broke into a sprint. As he leaped out of the fire, and landed on the porch, he saw mist and shadow flying overhead. What the fuck is that?! It was too far for him to tell, but whatever it was, it was responsible for this.

Ron slowly looked back to the burning Rookery, and he just felt… hollowed-out. They died. They just… died. Out of the blue… He knew that he couldn't do anything about the vision, but seeing the Rookery in flames was almost too much to stomach. Ron looked back to the sky, and he tried to make sense of what the Entity was trying to show him. Attacks from the sky? Maybe that flying shadow is a weapon of the Dark Lord? And the Entity wants me to know about it? Ron then remembered the date. 20th August, 1995. Just before my fifth year starts.

Ron suddenly felt the ground quake, and his mind began to drift away.

---

"Ron?" Luna shook him, and Ron blinked down at her. I'm back. "Are you alright? You just became very tense." I need to tell Dumbledore about this before I forget.

"I'm fine," Ron lied. "Can you find your way to your Tower on your own?"

"Oh… I guess…" Luna said slowly.

"Go on," Ron let her go, he was still dazed from his vision. It was so… abrupt. They were alive one second, and the next, they were all dead.

Ron's stomach turned, and he shuddered visibly. Lysander died… A little baby… And where was Xeno?

"Ron?"

"I'm fine, Luna," Ron lied again, doing his best to smile. "You go on ahead…"

Luna looked quite taken aback, but she didn't argue. Instead, she slowly left through the fireplace, her concerned face watching Ron until she disappeared. As for Ron, he just stood there. He didn't know if it was the alcohol, or the fear of what he saw, or both, that had frozen him in time, but try as he might, he just stood there. What was that flying shadow?

---

AUTHOR'S NOTES: And there it is! I'm back, and things will hopefully not be so rocky anymore. I want to get chapter 100 out before 6th January , which is when I started this story. One year, one hundred chapters. That's the goal!

See you guys on Tuesday!