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.

108. Chapter 108 - Justice For Ron

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Chapter 108 is done! Here you are!

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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'Another life wasted... In the persuit of Glory' - The Ancestor from Darkest Dungeon

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Fate

Chapter 108 - Justice For Ron

Ronald Weasley's POV

Wednesday 23rd December, 1993 (Headmaster's Office – Night)

Albus Dumbledore was not in his Office, and so, Ron had decided to linger about until he returned. Ron's quick stop at the Ministry hadn't gone to plan either, mostly because Barty Crouch had 'left for France', which had only served to make Ron worry about being cut out of the loop. Was he upset about that? Of course. Had he seen that coming? Most definitely.

It was no secret to Ron, especially now, that he hadn't been the best International Diplomat out there. In a way, Ron had even found himself blaming his lack of oversight for Lady Abadie's betrayal as well. He had put far too much faith in the French, and yes, most of that trust had come from the fact that the Veela community was a minority. In Ron's eyes, they were simply hated for being born different, and so he had foolishly ignored the fact that people are generally selfish. Never again, Ron. Never again.

Perhaps this is what the Entity was trying to teach him? That people are selfish and should never be trusted? Or perhaps, the Entity wanted to hinder Ron simply because it hated him? Uncertainty gnawed at him once again, and like always, Ron found himself wishing that the Entity would simply cease to exist. It barely ever helped him, it took every chance it could to hurt him, and it was also clear to Ron that the Entity was hiding a lot of valuable information from him. Why it was doing this was beyond Ron at this point… The Entity didn't process things like humans did, and therefore, expecting it to act like a human being was foolish. The best I can do is to ignore that piece of shit, even if it means completing this Cycle on my own.

"Ronald?" came Dumbledore's voice, the old man had just entered his Office. "I thought I felt a foreign presence in my Office… What brings you here, my boy?"

"I wanted to speak with you, Headmaster," Ron replied, he was currently feeding Fawkes little yellow treats. Do Phoenix's have specific treats made for them?

"I see," Dumbledore smiled in his usual way. "Please, take a seat, and we can discuss what's on your mind."

Ron made his way over to his usual seat, while Dumbledore moved around the clawed desk in order to sit down across from Ron. Fawkes let out a weak shrill, and when Ron looked at him, the Phoenix flashed out of the Office. Huh?

"Don't mind him, he simply wants to fly around Hogwarts in order to make sure that we're safe," Dumbledore said, and Ron gave a slow nod. "What's brought you to me, Ronald?"

"The French are gone," Ron started, and Dumbledore gave an understanding nod. "I stopped by Barty Crouch's Office just before, and he wasn't there. His secretary told me that he had 'gone to France for the night', and I think that I'm being cut out of the loop."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Dumbledore said, and Ron stared into the old man's eyes.

"I'm not really sorry… I think he's right to cut me out," Ron admitted. "I didn't do a very good job, nor did I bother to seek him out. In hindsight, I can't help but think that I'm an idiot." I'll go back tomorrow, and I'll ask him to give me another chance. I can do better. I know it.

"Barty is… an acquired taste," Dumbledore said. "Don't let his cold shoulder treatment get you down, Ronald. He is like that with everyone."

"He saved the Ministry during the Great War," Ron said, and Dumbledore leaned back with a studying gaze. "He did terrible things, but without those terrible things, the Ministry would have fallen."

"Ronald, what is on your mind?" Dumbledore asked, the boy was acting off.

"Why weren't you at the Wizengamot?" Ron asked outright, and Dumbledore drew in a deep breath. "I know that I sound selfish when I say that 'you could've helped me', but that's not my intent… I just want to know why you don't do more with the power that has been given to you. Why do you not stop legislations like Umbridge's Werewolf Act? Why do you ignore the Wizengamot, Wizarding Britain's High Court, while people like Corban Yaxley openly corrupt the system? Why don't you do more?"

"As I have explained… Power has always been my weakness," Dumbledore said. Why does he never give a straight answer?

"Don't give me that garbage, and expect me to be satisfied with it," Ron said harshly, taking the old man by surprise. "I'm not one of your sycophants, Headmaster, and I expect a real answer. You owe me that much."

"You are angry," Dumbledore noted, and Ron let out an icy chuckle.

"Detective Dumbledore… Astute as always," Ron said. "Yes, I'm angry… Why wouldn't I be?"

"Ronald, you cannot let what the French did to you cloud your judgment," Dumbledore started, but Ron quickly corrected him.

"I'm not angry with the French," Ron said plainly. "What Lady Abadie, and her toadies, did is on them… Most of the French were loyal to me, and the Order, so I'm not angry with them. I'm angry at myself, because I hold myself accountable for my failures." Ron the showed Dumbledore the scars on his left arm, and the old man didn't even react. "When I first got these, I blamed you wholeheartedly… But now, I understand that I was foolish to go down into those chambers by myself. I hold myself accountable… Something that you don't seem to do."

"What makes you say that?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

"You tried to lure the Dark Lord out of hiding by placing an object that he desperately wanted inside a school full of children," Ron replied. "I get that Hogwarts is your domain, but what you did could've killed someone. You say that you regret doing that, but you clearly haven't learned that your actions have a lasting effect on the World. You're Albus Dumbledore! People live and die by what you say… Which is why they settle for your vague answers. Which is why they ignore your faults."

"I am only a man, Ronald," Dumbledore said. "I never asked for all of this power, it was given to me by those who didn't want it falling into the wrong hands."

"Well, those people fucked up, didn't they?" Ron covered up his arm. "Their worst fears came true anyway, despite them handing so much power to a man who they believed they could trust. You have openly ignored your responsibilities, and in doing so, you have empowered our enemies. Corban Yaxley bent me over the table, and no one could do a damn thing because he has so much 'influence'. Even the Minister panders to him, and others like him, while you hide in your ivory tower. Why not give up all this power if you're not going to use it?"

Dumbledore said nothing, but Ron already knew why the old man kept all the power.

"Is it because you don't want it falling into the hands of our enemies?" Ron asked. "Well, you've failed on that account. By ignoring your duties, you've already given them all the power they need. If anything, you being in charge instead of them actually helps them better hide in plain sight. They don't get questioned when they bribe, threaten, or steal, and all because the man who is meant to stop them is too busying playing Headmaster. Why not give all of your power to someone like Barty Crouch? Or Madam Bones? They would actually stand against corruption, instead of doing absolutely nothing."

Dumbledore maintained his silence, and Ron quickly began feeling irked. They just stared at each other, and the longer the silence persisted, the more Ron felt like Dumbledore was a stranger to him. I don't know anything about this man… All I know is that he helped save the World twice, and that no one has the balls to question him. Ron decided that he was going to stand his ground this time; he wasn't going to let Dumbledore's reputation stop him from holding the old sorcerer accountable. We can't afford mistakes, and the only way to stop mistakes from happening is to understand why they happen in the first place. Dumbledore has to understand that he can do more, even if it makes him angry with me.

"What do you need from me, Ronald?" Dumbledore suddenly asked.

"I need you to attend the Wizengamot meetings for a start," Ron replied. "I need you to help me weed out all of this corruption… I mean, what's the point in stopping the Dark Lord if others like him are still getting away with everything? At least he doesn't hide who he is from the World. People like Lucius Malfoy, Corban Yaxley, and all the other Death-Eater Families all but run our country, and no one does a bloody thing to stop them. You have the power to do that, to make their lives much harder, but you refuse to act. I need you to act, Headmaster. I can't do all of this by myself."

"I know," Dumbledore said, and Ron relaxed a little. Good. Help me, then. "I also know that men like me shouldn't be given power…" This tripe again?

"What do you mean by that?" Ron felt frustrated again. "Tell me."

"I would abuse my power," Dumbledore said, and Ron just stared at him. "It's not that I'd want to commit evil, but my past has proven to me that my good intentions often harm those around me. Those who I hold very close to my heart. People like you, Ronald."

"Are you referring to my scars?" Ron asked, deciding not to comment on Dumbledore's kind words.

"I never meant for you, or anyone, to get hurt," Dumbledore looked down at his desk. "I was a fool for underestimating my old enemy. In my arrogance, I forgot just how intelligent Lord Voldemort really is, and because of that, my plans came undone. If it weren't for you, and Harry, the Dark Lord would have won. Hundreds would be dead by now, and all because I failed."

"Is that what you're afraid of? Failing?" Ron asked. I'm afraid of that as well, but if we don't act, then failure is guaranteed. How does someone so brilliant not realize that?

"I am afraid of myself, and my inability to resist lofty titles…" Dumbledore admitted weakly. "I wish to be remembered as the Greatest Sorcerer of all time…"

"What?" Ron blinked.

"Did you know that the people of Wizarding Britain wanted me to be the Minister for Magic?" Dumbledore asked, and Ron gave a slow nod. "I refused, despite being in the lead without even entering the campaign. They kept asking, demanding even, that I take up the mantle. That I rule over Britain, but by some miracle, I managed to resist my ambitions."

"But you accepted the other posts?" Ron asked.

"I could not resist a second time," Dumbledore looked genuinely hurt, and Ron felt the urge to apologize and hug the man. Don't let guilt get in the way, Ron. Just listen to him. "Only after I had accepted my new titles did I realize that I had traded a good deed for power once again. I did not create the Order to put myself above others, I created it to make up for my lack of action against Grindelwald…" Gellert Grindelwald? "I wanted to do more this time, that's all."

"You defeated Grindelwald, though?" Ron was genuinely confused. "What do you mean by 'my lack of action'? You stopped him."

"I let him wage his war, and as you said before, I hid in my 'ivory tower'," Dumbledore replied. "At the time, my ivory tower was my classroom… I could not bring myself to face him, and thousands upon thousands died."

"I'm really lost here," Ron admitted. "Headmaster, you're not making any sense…"

Dumbledore looked towards Fawkes' empty perch, a hint of shame gleaming in his tired, old eyes. Dumbledore then looked to Ron, his eyes studying the boy before him. Ron felt a little uncomfortable because of Dumbledore's odd look, but he didn't say anything.

"Do you have time to listen to my story?" Dumbledore asked, and Ron nodded almost immediately. "No embellishments, no lies… Just the truth."

"Just the truth," Ron nodded again, his body leaning forward by itself. Is he really going to tell me more about the man behind the legend? Merlin, I'm a little nervous now.

Dumbledore gave a weak nod, and then he closed his eyes. Ron knew that the Headmaster was mentally preparing himself, which only made Ron more interested. What could have happened to the man in his life that still haunted him to this day? Dumbledore was over a century old, and yet, right now, he looked so unsure of himself. So vulnerable.

"Even in my youth, I displayed a proficiency with Magic that left both my mother and father in awe," Dumbledore started in a whisper. "Unlike the other children, I could control my developing Magical Core. I would levitate things around the house, and one time, I even levitated my father."

"How old were you when you started doing that?" Ron asked out of curiosity.

"I was seven," Dumbledore replied, and Ron was quite amazed by that. A seven-year-old Dumbledore was a stronger wizard than me… I still can't levitate people, and I've been at this for nearly a year. "Do not fret, Ronald, I was always the exception to the rule. I am ashamed to admit that this feat only inflated my growing ego, and by the time I had my wand, I had begun to look down my nose at the people around me. Even my Family…"

"My younger brother, Aberforth, was always the first one to call me out on my despicable behavior, but he had become otherwise occupied with our little sister," Dumbledore went on.

"You had a sister? And a brother?" Ron asked. Shouldn't that be basic knowledge?

"I did," Dumbledore didn't sound happy to admit that. "I was the eldest of three, but I never acted like it. You see, when my sister, Ariana, was six, she attempted to mimic my behavior in our garden. She willed her Magic to respond to her, and sadly, it did… What my sister didn't know was that a group of young Muggle boys were watching her through our hedge, and when they saw her performing the impossible, they confronted her." I already don't like where this is going. "She understood, as all Magical children do, that Magic was to be kept hidden from the Muggles, and so she feigned ignorance. Those boys… They grew angry with Ariana… They attacked her…"

"What?" Ron's face morphed to one of shock and sympathy.

"I imagine that they were scared of her, and in order to not feel scared, they lashed out," Dumbledore said. "They beat her with sticks, tore at her clothes, and left her bloody when they realized what they had done. My father found her, but it was already too late… My little sister, the sweet girl who claimed to be best friends with our goats, was never the same again…" Good Lord. How does no one know about this?

"I'm sorry," Ron heard himself say, but Dumbledore just shook his head with a sad smile.

"I tried being there for her at first, but I just couldn't do it," Dumbledore swallowed thickly. "Seeing her like that… Broken beyond repair… It was too much. My father felt the same way as I did, and in a drunken rage, he found the boys who had attacked her. He Cursed them, and I later learned that two of three boys died from whatever Curse my father inflicted upon them."

Ron was in genuine shock right now, Dumbledore's tale was something out of a nightmare.

"Your father killed two Muggle boys…" Ron muttered.

"And he was sent to Azkaban for it," Dumbledore told Ron. "He died in that prison… I never got the chance to see him again after his trial. My mother was heartbroken, but she had to be there for Ariana-"

"Did you tell the Ministry what had happened?" Ron asked. "Surely, they'd have done something to help Ariana."

"They would have locked her away," Dumbledore said, and Ron felt wretched. Poor girl. "What those boys did to her, it damaged her Magical Core. She began to suppress her Magic due to her trauma, which in turn created an Obscurus within her."

"A what?" Ron blinked.

"A Magical disorder," Dumbledore replied. "An Obscurus is a living, thriving parasite, one that resides deep within its host. It can never be extracted, and even to this day, there is no known way to cure it. It causes immense damage to the host's body, and eventually, it even kills them. Ariana couldn't get rid of her Magic, and so it turned inwards and drove her mad. Sometimes, she would be like her old self again, but as she got older, she became more and more unstable. She became strange and dangerous… Even cruel…"

"Don't misunderstand me," Dumbledore continued. "I loved her, but she frightened me. She even frightened our mother. The only one who wasn't frightened of Ariana was Aberforth, even during her darker moments."

"Darker moments?" Ron asked slowly.

"I simply don't know what she was thinking during said moments…" Dumbledore looked away. "She killed our Family's goats… Our mother found her in the backyard one day, a bloodied knife in her hands… When our mother confronted her, Ariana simply began laughing…" Bloody hell, that's really terrifying. "Fearing for Ariana's safety, and the safety of the neighboring children, my mother moved our Family to Godric's Hollow."

Dumbledore then looked like he was in genuine pain, and he released a shaky breath. Ron, who had never seen this side of the man, found himself shrinking in his seat. Who else knew about Dumbledore's terrible childhood? No one. I don't think that he's ever told a soul. Right now, Ron was also feeling quite pathetic. He often lamented on his siblings' mistreatment of him, or his parents' neglect, but compared to Dumbledore's childhood, Ron had gotten extremely lucky.

"I was so glad to leave it all behind," Dumbledore muttered. "I was so glad to leave her behind… I couldn't stand being in the same house as her…"

"Why?" Ron asked. "I get that she had her problems, but she wasn't to blame for her condition."

"As I said before, I was far too self-involved to care," Dumbledore looked truly ashamed. "I thought to myself… Why me? Why did I get stuck with this mess?" Dumbledore then shook his head weakly. "My only concern, Ronald, was that Ariana's condition, and my father's imprisonment, would result in gossip. I had plans for Hogwarts, and beyond, but those plans were already in jeopardy. Many believed that Ariana was a Squib, which at the time, was an even greater shame on one's Family Tree."

"In order to avoid being alienated," Dumbledore said. "I put my heart and soul into making a name for myself. By the end of my first year, many Professors had labeled me as the 'greatest student to ever grace the halls of Hogwarts', and my Family's dark past was quickly forgotten. 'Friends', all of who stroked my ego in order to benefit themselves, surrounded me, and I gladly welcomed the change. I avoided going home, and eventually, I even stopped writing to my lonely mother."

"Years went by, and just before I was about to graduate, I learned that my mother had passed," Dumbledore finally looked back at Ron. "Ariana lost control of her Magic, and when it burst out of her, my mother was caught in the blast. Do you want to know what my initial reaction was to this news?" I don't think I do.

"What was your reaction?" Ron asked, he was struggling to meet the old man's gaze.

"I was angry with my mother for getting herself killed," Dumbledore said bitterly, and Ron felt the urge to throttle the younger Albus Dumbledore. "I had plans with my good friend, Elphias Doge, but my mother's death meant that I now had to take care of Ariana."

"Ariana survived the blast?" Ron asked.

"Her Magic burst through her whenever her Obscurus felt threatened," Dumbledore replied. "Usually, it would result in a big mess, but this time, it was different. A part of me knew that Ariana's time was coming, but I couldn't look past my own self-interest. I was a brilliant young wizard. I wanted to escape mediocrity. I wanted to shine. I wanted glory. I wanted so many things, but in the end, all I was left with was a damaged sister and a wayward brother. When I returned to my home, I was angry and bitter. I thought that I was trapped, and that eventually, I'd drift into obscurity. My old 'friends' never bothered to return my letters, save for Elphias, but I stopped writing to him as well. I was jealous, you see, and that turned me into someone that I myself couldn't recognize."

"And then?" Ron decided to see this through.

"A young man came into my life," Dumbledore replied. "Gellert Grindelwald."

"He came to Godric's Hollow?" Ron was visibly surprised.

"He had been expelled from Durmstrang, and so he had come to live with a relative," Dumbledore replied. "He was… brilliant. I felt drawn to him, and when we finally spoke, he found me equally intriguing. It wasn't long before we became inseparable, and that breathed life into me once again. I… I began to neglect Ariana… There were times when I'd forget to feed her, and she would wait for me until all hours of the night…"

Ron bit back his anger on behalf of the damaged girl. How could someone be so fucking selfish? He neglected his sister to the point of not feeding her? What would his followers say to that? I mean, I can be selfish sometimes, but this is just disgusting.

"Gellert, like myself, looked down at Muggles," Dumbledore finally confessed.

"Looked down at Muggles?" Ron blinked, his anger quickly forgotten. "You?"

"I was not a good brother to Ariana, but I did love her," Dumbledore looked haunted. "I blamed all Muggles for what had happened to my Family, and Gellert shared my thoughts. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, we were planning to topple the Statute of Secrecy." What?! "That's right, Ronald… Gellert's war started in Godric's Hollow, and it was planned by the both of us."

"Why?" Ron couldn't help but ask. "Why did you blame all Muggles for the actions of the few? Why did you neglect Ariana, while simultaneously seeking justice for her?"

"I was in love," Dumbledore looked so frail, and Ron just processed the man's words. In love? With Grindelwald? Wait… So that means… Oh.

Suddenly, it became quite clear to Ron as to why Dumbledore had never married. I know that a person's sexuality is a personal thing, but I'm still quite taken aback by this. Who'd have thought that Dumbledore was gay? Wait… Stop getting distracted by pointless things! Get back to listening to his story.

"What happened then?" Ron asked, and Dumbledore gave him an appreciative smile. "How did you end up becoming the savior of the Wizarding World?"

"Aberforth came home for the holidays, and when he saw the state of Ariana, he was beyond angry," Dumbledore's smile died on his face. "She had lost weight due to my neglect, and Aberforth accused Gellert of distracting me from my duties. They became hostile to each other, and much to my shame, I sided with Gellert. Deep down, I knew what he was, but I also believed him to be my last chance at making a name for myself. We were both so driven by our mutual ambition that I even looked past his threats towards Aberforth. I left my home behind in order to finish our plans, leaving my younger brother to care for Ariana by himself."

"Surely you felt somewhat guilty at the time? Right?" Ron asked, he didn't know why, but he really wanted Dumbledore to say yes.

"Slowly, but surely, I did indeed begin to realize that I was doing ill against my siblings," Dumbledore said. Good. "I confessed as much to Gellert, but he had a way of making me think about 'the Greater Good'. I waited far too long to reach out to Aberforth, and so he took it upon himself to discover why I had turned my back on him and Ariana. He learnt of my plans to wage war against the Muggles, and knowing about my brilliance all too well, he understood that I was more than capable of it."

"Did he confront you?" Ron asked.

"He did…" Dumbledore's hands tightened around his chair. "He demanded answers, and when I couldn't provide them, he accused me of being worse than the Muggles who had hurt our sister. Unlike those Muggle boys, I knew exactly what my sister was, and I still chose to hurt her. His words finally reached me, especially after he told me that Ariana was vomiting blood."

"Vomiting blood?" Ron paled a little.

"Her Obscurus was tearing her apart from the inside…" Dumbledore's eyes became teary. "She was dying, Ronald… And my poor brother, who was only sixteen, was trying his best to keep her alive… I was overwhelmed with shame. I promised to return home with Aberforth… To take my duty to Ariana seriously. We both knew that she wasn't long for this World, and we agreed to put our differences aside in order to make her last few months happy and peaceful."

Dumbledore then drew in a sharp breath, almost as if he was in physical pain.

"Gellert caught up to us as we neared our house, and Aberforth confronted him as well," Dumbledore removed his glasses with shaky hands, and then he pinched the tears away. "When Aberforth threatened to expose Gellert to the Ministry, they came to blows… I tried to stop them, but when Gellert unsheathed his wand, I was forced to Duel the man who I loved for the sake of my brother. Gellert would have killed him, but knowing Aberforth, I understood that I had to step in… The fight escalated, and Aberforth joined in… We all became increasingly more violent with our Spells, so none of us noticed that Ariana had come out of the house…"

"No…" Ron muttered. Please tell me that an errant Spell didn't hit her…

"I… I don't know how it happened…" Dumbledore looked down at his lap, his voice cracking in a way that tore at Ron's own heart. "It was the flashing lights… And the loud yelling… It scared her so much… She came running at us, but none of us saw her… And then, she was gone…"

"Grindelwald killed her?" Ron asked weakly.

"We don't know who did it…" Dumbledore confessed, and when he looked up, Ron didn't see the most powerful wizard in the World.

All he saw was a broken man, one who had lived a life so terrible that even Ron felt nothing but pain on his behalf.

"It was me, Ronald…" Dumbledore wept. "I killed her… I killed my sister…"

Ron got out of his chair without a second thought, and within a second, he had moved around the table in order to put his arm around the old man. He didn't know what to say to Dumbledore, nor could he fully understand the depth of his pain, but Ron knew that he had to do something. Even if it's just sitting with him while he mourns.

"I'm so sorry, Headmaster," Ron whispered as he squeezed a little too hard. "I'm so fucking sorry…"

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Ten Minutes Later

To say that Ron was still in shock would be an understatement… Ron was utterly floored by Dumbledore's story. The old man clearly hadn't meant to break down, or even go so far, but once the ball had started rolling, it had knocked down every single wall along the way. In a way, Ron felt that he had become the lightning rod for Albus Dumbledore's unspoken guilt and inner turmoil. By asking the old sorcerer to open up, Ron had ended up seeing far too much.

But despite all the emotions that Ron was going through right now, he couldn't help but admire his friend's strength of character. Any weaker man in Dumbledore's shoes would have made excuses like 'I was just young', but not Albus Dumbledore. The Headmaster of Hogwarts carried his mistakes to this day, and because of that, he had become truly humbled and loving. Dumbledore's past had helped him realize just what sort of person he was, and the man was strong enough to admit that he didn't like his reflection.

Ron now understood why Dumbledore had helped him with the Squibs when no one else would. Ron understood why Dumbledore had let Remus Lupin attend Hogwarts, and then later, even hired him to teach. Ron finally understood why Dumbledore was such a constant advocate for the power of 'Love'. The old man had lived a lonely life from the day he had played a role in Ariana's death, and he had done so because he blamed himself for not loving his Family enough. Not when it counted, anyway.

"Here," Ron handed Dumbledore the tea.

"Four spoons?" Dumbledore asked, he looked truly exhausted.

"Yes, four spoons," Ron smiled a little. So much sugar. "How are you feeling now, Headmaster?"

"Forgive me, my boy," Dumbledore apologized, he had finally managed to regain some composure. "I did not mean to burden-"

"It's alright," Ron assured him. "I don't see it as a burden. If anything, I feel like I respect you even more now."

Dumbledore blinked at that.

"You're human, just like the rest of us," Ron smiled more fully.

"I cannot deny that it is refreshing to feel so… open… for a change," Dumbledore said, and then he took a long sip of his tea. "I have not felt like this in a very long time." I figured.

"Maybe I should sell the Quibbler, and then put in the effort to become a Mind-Healer," Ron joked, and Dumbledore released a weak chuckle.

"I don't wish to be rude, but you'd make a poor Mind-Healer," Dumbledore said, he almost sounded like his usual, cheery self.

"Why?" Ron asked as he walked back to his seat.

"You are a man of action, Ronald," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling for a moment. "Mind-Healing requires patience and time. You tackle problems as soon as you see them, which is an admirable quality, of course, but not one suited for Mind-Healers."

"I can be patient," Ron said almost humorously. "Sometimes…"

"I suppose so," Dumbledore said from behind his teacup.

Ron took his seat, and for a few moments, they both enjoyed a peaceful silence. Ron had decided to not prod any further for now, mostly because Dumbledore didn't deserve to relive his pain just for the sake of sating Ron's curiosity. Merlin help him, Ron truly understood the need to keep bad memories hidden away from the light, but saying that, Ron still wanted to learn more about Dumbledore's war against Gellert Grindelwald. They were lovers… Merlin, that's bloody mental.

"Do you still want me to wield my power against our enemies?" Dumbledore finally broke the silence, and after looking into the man's eyes, Ron gave a nod.

"You're not the selfish young man that you used to be," Ron said, deciding to stay resolute. Being sentimental about this isn't worth it. "If you don't step up, Headmaster, then none of your struggles will have mattered in the end. The Dark Lord will undo everything. The Cycle would restart. We'll be doomed to repeat this forever. There is so much at stake, so we simply can't afford to take the easy way out."

"Things will change drastically once I start using my political power," Dumbledore said. "Many on the Wizengamot will be outraged… The Media will question my every decision… Men like Corban Yaxley will try to regain control. This war will reach the next stage sooner than I planned." So he does have some overall plan, then?

"We'll deal with that together," Ron said. "Whatever happens, Headmaster, you have me on your side. Even if all of this ends up for naught, we'll at least be able to say that we tried our best. That we fought back even when things were hopeless."

"A victory in it's own right," Dumbledore put his cup down, a slightly vacant look on his face. "I cannot promise you that I will always come through, Ronald. It has been too long since I played this game. I have grown accustomed to working from the shadows."

"I'm not exactly a winner myself," Ron stated. "I mean, I've spent the last couple of days in Corban Yaxley's woodshed. Not to mention that Lady Abadie managed to blindside me, despite my suspicions about her. Oh, and I'm a joke within the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

"Not for long, judging by your tone," Dumbledore said, and Ron quickly suppressed his anger. Control yourself, Ron. Now's not the time to turn bitter and angry. I'll let out my anger once I have those traitorous Veelas within my grasp.

"Like Madame Maxime said… Losing a battle doesn't mean that we lost the war," Ron said. "I'm going to fight back, and I'll keep fighting until I win."

"You are quite remarkable," Dumbledore said, and Ron just stared at him. I am? "Not many have the strength to move on from defeat so quickly."

"Unlike many, I don't have the time to mourn my losses," Ron shrugged, and Dumbledore gave him an odd look. Did he just remember that I'm dying? "It's alright, Headmaster, I've made my peace." What's the point of whining about it, eh? Everyone dies eventually… It's natural, which, by the way, only makes me hate the Dark Lord even more. He defies nature itself… There is nothing that he won't desecrate, is there?

"No thirteen year old should have to make their peace, dear boy," Dumbledore said weakly.

"It is what it is," Ron said, he genuinely couldn't care less about his upcoming demise at this point. If anything, I'm really looking forward to it. Can you imagine, Ron? No pain, no stress, no fighting… Just nothingness. I'll be gone, and my problems will go with me. I just need to win this war first, and then, I'll have my rest.

"Ronald?" Dumbledore called, and Ron broke out of his thoughts. "I know that look…"

"We have to win," Ron said firmly, and Dumbledore couldn't look away from the redhead. "We have to win before I run out of time. I know it's not fair that I'm dragging you out of your comfort zone, but I'm just one person… I can't hold the line by myself. I finally understand that now." I'm not you.

"I…" Dumbledore started, but he quickly stopped himself. "I will do whatever I can to aid you, Ronald. I swear it."

"Thank you," Ron, once again, felt no relief from his win. Another box ticked. "Speaking of help… I actually need an urgent favor from you."

"You do?" Dumbledore asked. "Please, I'm listening."

"You know that the Ministry gave me a free pass on using Magic outside of Hogwarts, right?" Ron asked, and Dumbledore gave a nod. "I need something similar for Hermione Granger."

"You do?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes fixed on Ron's.

"She saw me practicing Magic a couple of days ago, and she wouldn't leave me alone," Ron explained. "So, in order to get rid of her, I told her that I'd look into getting her a pass as well. Only once I had made the offer did I realize that it was the right thing to do. She's Harry Potter's best friend, and she's a Muggle-Born to boot. She'll have people come for her, and she needs to be ready."

"She needs to be ready," Dumbledore copied Ron, a weak smile creeping onto his face.

"Why are you repeating what I just said?" Ron asked.

"You find a lot of reasons to show that you don't care," Dumbledore replied, and Ron let out a long breath. Sagely Dumbledore is back… Yay… "I will have all ten passes sent to you before Christmas."

"Ten?" Ron asked. "What ten passes? I only need one…"

"Harry, Neville, Hermione, and your Slytherin friends," Dumbledore said, and Ron was a little taken aback. He can manage to get ten passes that quickly? Wait… He's Dumbledore. He no doubt has friends all over the Aurors Department.

"What about my siblings?" Ron shamelessly asked.

"I will need to speak to your parents first," Dumbledore replied. "I hear that the twins are under 'lock and key' these days."

"Oh, not anymore," Ron said. "I… I made that problem go away."

"You did, did you?" Dumbledore smiled a little more fully. "Good on you, Ronald."

"Well… They're my kin…" Ron said dismissively. "I shouldn't have gone that far with them in the first place…" All it did was make things worse for everyone involved.

"Careful, my boy, I'm not supposed to know that you set up your brothers and Lee," Dumbledore said.

"Something tells me that you already know," Ron said. "Anyway… Just send the passes over whenever you're ready. I just hope that they put them to good use."

"Once they learn the truth, I imagine that they'll have little choice," Dumbledore said, and then his expression became slightly hardened. "Your friends Theodore, Blaise, Millicent, and Pansy concern me, Ronald. They are not like Draco, Daphne, and Tracey… Their parents will no doubt try to turn them against you once the Dark Lord reveals himself."

"Which is why I'll be watching them very carefully," Ron replied, and Dumbledore nodded slowly. "They might be my friends, but I've been stabbed in the back before. I'll be careful, and in time, I'll bring them to our side."

"And if they refuse?" Dumbledore asked.

"Trust me, I won't be giving them a choice," Ron replied bluntly. "If they do refuse, I'll drag them to our side kicking and screaming. One day, they'll be grateful for it." When the Death-Eaters are all in shallow graves, they'll be more than grateful.

"Perhaps a more understanding approach should be implemented," Dumbledore suggested, he didn't like how quickly Ron had answered the question. "I'm certain that our enemies love their children, and if we play this right, we could take away valuable allies from Lord Voldemort."

"You think Clementine Zabini cares for her son?" Ron asked. "Millie and Theo are going to be hard to win over, but Blaise and Pansy already want to run away from their 'Families'." We are their true Family. They belong with Us.

"Theodore is staying at the Burrow, isn't he?" Dumbledore asked, and Ron gave a nod. "I wonder what Molly and Arthur plan to do about him when they come clean to all of you."

"You should ask them, and then let me know," Ron said. "My parents aren't exactly subtle, and I don't want Theo feeling cornered. I still need time to show him that his father is in league with a madman. I need to show him that if he chooses the Dark Lord, he'll be a servant for the rest of his life." Theo's a proud guy, so I need to use that against him. No matter how manipulative my tactics may be, they're all for his benefit. Serving the Dark Lord is a fucking death sentence, and I need to show Theo that.

"We have a lot of work to do," Dumbledore said, and then he looked to the golden clock hanging by Fawkes' perch. "But our work will have to wait… It is getting late, and your parents are no doubt worried about your absence."

"It's only half past nine," Ron said.

"Given what they know, they'll definitely be worried," Dumbledore said.

"Are you trying to send me away?" Ron teased, and Dumbledore managed a half-smile. I think that he's drained from our earlier chat, so I shouldn't linger about.

"Yes," Dumbledore replied, and Ron pretended to be hurt.

"Fine… I'll go," Ron said, and then he stood up to leave. "From here on out, Headmaster, we need to stay on top of everything. No more silly errors like lack of oversight. We can't afford to be careless."

"Agreed," Dumbledore gave a nod. "Goodnight, my boy."

"Goodnight," Ron said as he walked over to the fireplace.

"And Ronald…" Dumbledore called, and Ron looked back. "If you ever suspect that my power is warping my judgment, come to me immediately." He has that little faith in himself? Merlin, that genuinely frightens me.

"Count on it, Headmaster," Ron said, and then he began preparing the floo. If he's that worried, then I ought to take this very seriously. From now on, I'll also keep my eyes on him. If he starts acting like a tyrant, I'll speak with him immediately.

As the fire blazed green, Ron shot a quick look behind him. The old man had left for his quarters, no doubt ready to pass out, and Ron figured that he too should go to sleep early tonight. I need to be wide-awake tomorrow, especially when I go to the Ministry. I can't lose my job just yet. Being an International Diplomat will give me far too many opportunities to befriend powerful people.

Ron stepped through the fireplace, and as soon as he entered the Burrow's Living Room, he found a pack of concerned adults waiting for him.

"Where have you been, Ron?" Arthur asked immediately, while Ron looked around the room. Even Pandora looks slightly disappointed with my sudden disappearing act.

"I was taking care of some business," Ron replied.

"At this hour?" Molly asked. "Ron… It's nightfall."

"I know," Ron said calmly. "I'm sorry if I worried all of you, but I had to get this done as soon as possible. Next time, I'll let you know in advance."

His words reached his parents, both of who looked slightly disappointed in him while simultaneously looking relieved with his return. If I've learned one thing tonight, it's to not fight with Family. Maybe Dumbledore told me everything in an attempt to make me a better person? Knowing him, the possibility of doing some good for me didn't escape his attention.

"Where are the others?" Ron asked. "Are they in their rooms?"

"They're in the backyard," Pandora replied, she was just glad that Ron hadn't become defensive. "Luna and Astoria prepared star charts for everyone, and they're all waiting for midnight together."

"All of them?" Ron asked. "Even Draco?"

"Tracey all but dragged him along," Susana replied, and Ron smiled a little. She's really making my life easier these days. I should thank her properly.

"Good," Ron said. "I'm off to bed-"

"Luna made you a chart," Xeno stated. "It'd mean a lot to her if you joined in."

Ron just stared at Xeno, he honestly didn't know what to say. A part of him did want to join the others, and that was partly due to Dumbledore's tale of neglect, but a bigger part of Ron understood that he had to get to work tomorrow. He needed to be completely alert if he planned to convince Barty Crouch to let him into the negotiations with the French.

"I need to speak with Barty Crouch tomorrow," Ron finally gave his answer. "I tried to contact him tonight, but I found out that he had left for France."

"He's cutting you out?" Lord Greengrass asked with a furrowed brow.

"I think so," Ron said. "I need to speak with him, which means that I need my sleep. Tell Luna that I'm sorry."

With that, Ron made his way towards the exit.

"Kid, wait…" Sirius called, and Ron turned back around. "I told the others about tonight's meeting… All of it." Fair enough. I already figured that you would.

"You really helped the Squibs?" Molly asked, and Ron noticed James and Susana perk up.

"I did," Ron replied, which earned him differing reactions.

"How much did you spend on this?" Mary asked.

"As much as I needed to," Ron deflected her question. She's a bit like her husband. She doesn't quite care about the 'lesser beings'. "Don't worry, I'm not in financial trouble. I have plenty left in my vaults." Thank you, Victor, you sleazy cunt. I hope you're burning in Hell right now.

"Daphne knows more about this, doesn't she?" Lord Greengrass asked, and Ron said nothing. "Ron… Is my daughter involved in this?"

Ron said absolutely nothing in response, Daphne clearly hadn't told her parents about her knowledge of Ron's plans.

"Do you think other prominent Families will do business with her if they learn about her association with Squibs?" Lord Greengrass asked bluntly, which earned him uncomfortable looks. "I know you don't want to hear this, but my daughter is trying to establish her roots right now, and as her father, I need to make sure that her future is secure."

"Then you should speak to her instead," Ron said, he couldn't care less about Lord Greengrass' dislike of Squibs.

"We tried, but she's tightlipped about it," Mary said, and then she looked to Molly and Arthur for help.

"Ron… They're her parents, and they need to know what she's getting herself into," Arthur said.

"No one knows about the Squibs," Ron told them. "None of you knew until tonight, and you only know because I decided to let Sirius know a little about my plans." The adults exchanged looks, and Ron noticed a hint of annoyance on Lord Greengrass' face. "If you don't tell anyone about the Squibs, then you all have nothing to worry about. May I leave now?"

"You want to abolish the Old Ways?" Lord Greengrass questioned further. I want people to stop killing each other for idiotic reasons, nothing more.

"Husband…" Mary sighed out. "Maybe now is not the right time for-"

"No, I want to know what he has planned," Lord Greengrass said firmly. "His plans clearly involve our children, and us, so we need to know where he's going with this."

"Just because you need something doesn't mean that you get to have it," Ron said a little too calmly. Who are you to question me? Your beliefs almost destroyed your own Family, and yet, you still hold onto them. So much for not influencing his daughters…

"Ron…" Pandora looked visibly surprised by his coldness, while Lord Greengrass looked unfazed.

"If you don't want to help me, then that's fine," Ron said. "It's your choice… But don't expect me to blindly trust my allies with my plans, not after what just happened to me. As for abolishing the Old Ways, I never said that. I plan to reform them, because like it or not, they must change with the times. A belief system created solely to exclude others is bound to cause problems, and judging from what I have seen, I'd say that the Old Ways do more harm than good. The World has no use for them as they are now, but with a few tweaks, everyone will benefit. Especially the Old Families."

"How so?" Lord Greengrass asked.

"Well, for one, people won't think that you're all bastards," Ron replied plainly.

"Ronald!" Molly looked scandalized.

"Secondly, the common people will finally be able to contribute to the Wizarding World, and as we all know, new ideas are essential for a society to progress," Ron went on. "Thirdly, innocent children won't have to sell their bodies for a living simply because the Old Families have convinced the World that Squibs are worth less than dirt. Even the Daily Prophet dehumanizes them, and it's all because respectable Families such as yours, Lord Greengrass, want the public to hate what you all can't understand. Shall I go on?"

"The Wizarding World is what it is today because of Families like mine," Lord Greengrass said. "And yours, Ronald." Ronald? Upset, are we?

"You sound proud of the garbage excuse for a society that we have now," Ron said, some of his anger seeping into his voice. "The Government is full of corruption, anyone who is different from a certain standard is treated as unequal, and pretty much all sentient beings despise our kind. And the saddest part about all of this is that they are right to do so. We wizards are a cancer on this World. That's what the Old Ways have turned us into. Your wealth doesn't make you better than the average person, Lord Greengrass, and if you think that it does, then you need to clear your vision. A person who grew up with a platinum spoon in his mouth has no right to judge a nine-year-old orphan girl who's never even slept in a proper bed before."

"You really built a home for the Squibs?" Molly muttered, she still couldn't believe this.

"I did, and it's location will never be shared," Ron said. "I promised them that I'd keep them safe, and that means that no wizard should know about their location. They've suffered enough at our hands, I think." Why am I even explaining myself? I know I did the right thing, and if they can't see that, then that's on them.

Ron left the Living Room without another word, he needed to get some sleep. Lord Greengrass won't let this go, but I won't be caught off-guard by my own allies again. I'll be watching all of them very carefully from now on, and if I detect even a hint of betrayal, I'll shut that shite down.

---

Corban Yaxley's POV

Wednesday 23rd December, 1993 (Nott Manor – Near Midnight)

Corban had waited until the very end to present his gift to the Dark Lord. Unlike his fellow Pure-Bloods, Corban knew that he already had the perfect poison to present to the Dark Lord. He also knew that once the Dark Lord saw Corban's offering, he'd be sorely disappointed in his other Death-Eaters for wasting his time. He will see that, just as it once was, I am his most reliable ally. Lucius is an arrogant fool, and Cornelius is an old man. Neither of them deserve the Dark Lord's favor.

"He'll see you now," Cornelius came out of the dining room, and Corban could see the suspicion within the old fool's eyes. "He is not pleased that you made him wait, Corban. Don't try to overreach as you always do." Afraid of losing your position? You should be.

"I will take your advice into consideration," Corban said almost pleasantly. Do us all a favor, and just die already. We don't need you, or your pathetic son.

Corban made his way into the empty dining room, and once he was all alone, he felt a familiar presence surround him. The exit slammed shut harshly, but Corban kept his composure in check. Relax. There is nothing to fear. The Dark Lord rewards merit above all. The shadows crept out of a corner, and Corban quickly kneeled with the box containing the Basilisk's Venom Sac held out.

"You are late, Corban…" the Dark Lord's voice came from the shadows, and Corban couldn't help but note that it sounded strained. "The others have all presented their offerings in a fashionable manner, but you come in the dead of night… Why?"

"What I wished to offer was difficult to secure," Corban began his embellished lie. "I had to travel far away from Britain in order to secure the best for you, my Lord." I must convince him that I went well and beyond for him. That will win me my favor back.

"Save me your pretty speech," the shadow hissed. "What have you brought me?"

"The Venom Sac of a Basilisk," Corban put the box down, and then, he carefully opened the box for the Dark Lord's inspection. "The most potent poison known to Wizarding Kind. Does my offering please you, my Lord?"

There was no response from the lingering shadows, and after a few seconds of the deafening silence, Corban began to feel a cold sweat under his armpits. Is something wrong? Why won't he speak? Corban thought about asking his question once again, but he knew better from the last war. Just relax, and be patient. Keep your Occlumency at the ready just in case. He will not dig too deep, not unless he wishes to damage my mind.

"Look at me," the shadow hissed, and Corban raised his head.

Almost immediately after he looked at the shadow, he felt a weak prodding sensation at the back of his skull. Corban let the Dark Lord peruse his memories, which he had carefully constructed over the span of the entire day. With his mind clear of any damning thoughts, Corban let the Dark Lord look around without hindering him in any way. Eventually, he felt the foreign presence leave his mind. He didn't dig deep enough to harm me… This bodes well for me.

"I understand now why you were so late," the shadow spoke, its voice less biting. "To travel all the way to the Amazon for my sake… Well done, Corban. This is indeed worth the wait." Excellent! "Tell me more of this merchant woman. How did she find a Basilisk carcass so deep within the Amazon?"

"She would not tell me, but she seemed to understand its value," Corban replied. "I have been in contact with her for a while, as I planned to add this item to my collection, but once you gave the order, I decided to expedite the sale. She charged me extra for my hurry, but it was well worth it."

"I am sorry that you had to spend a small fortune for my benefit," the voice said smoothly. "You will be rewarded for this, Corban, make no mistake about that. I accept your offering, and I embrace you as friend once again. Rise."

Corban stood up at that, his back and shoulders squared and his head held high.

"Think nothing of the price, my Lord," Corban said. "Our cause is, after all, priceless."

"That it is," the shadows said. "It is gratifying to know that at least one of my old friends can still be relied upon."

Corban fought the urge to smile with true pride, the Dark Lord's words were like a soothing balm on a wound that had festered for far too long. Lying to the Dark Lord didn't really sit well with him, but he knew that he had to win back his favor as quickly as possible. Being a Death-Eater meant that you had to constantly fight to keep your place, and Corban was now fighting for himself, his daughter, his wife, and Felix.

"I am your will, my Lord," Corban said, unable to hide some of his joy. "Allow me to serve the cause once again."

"You wish to stand side-by-side with Lucius and Cornelius," the Dark Lord figured, and Corban gave a resolute nod. "Your gift has pleased me greatly, and I could see your true loyalty within your memories. Very well, I will have Cornelius prepare a room for you. From today on, you will serve as my will."

"I will not fail you again, I swear it," Corban felt his heart swell. "And I will never target Ronald Weasley again."

"No, you most certainly will not," the Dark Lord whispered coldly, and Corban felt the hair on his neck stand up. "That being said, I understand why you did what you did. Ronald's Family has an ill reputation, and he is quickly rising in the World. You simply wished to preserve our way of life, and for that, I do commend you. But you must understand that Ronald is not our enemy, he is one of us." He is? I got the impression that he wanted to slash my throat during our exchange.

"I am not one to question you, Master, but why does this boy interest you?" Corban asked. "I have spoken with him, and he detests our cause."

"He is young, and his passion blinds him," the shadow said. "Dumbledore no doubt has been influencing him with his drivel, but once I approach Ronald, I am certain that he will see sense. After all, I can offer him eternity." What?! The Dark Lord would share his immortality with the boy?! Why?!

Before Corban could think another thought, the shadows began to recede.

"Leave your offering in Lucius' care, and inform Cornelius of my decision," the shadow hissed. "Welcome back, Corban."

"Thank you, my Lord," Corban bowed deeply, he could barely mask his shock. Why Ronald Weasley? The Dark Lord hasn't even met the boy, and yet, he'd offer him the one thing that he guards most carefully? I… I don't understand. Why is this Blood-Traitor so important to the Dark Lord?

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Thursday 24th December, 1993 (The Burrow – Early Morning)

Ron flipped through the copy of the Daily Prophet, and unsurprisingly, the phony news outlet was praising the newest legislation brought forth by Dolores Umbridge. In their most recent paper, the Daily Prophet claimed that Dolores Umbridge was looking out for smaller businesses that could potentially be threatened by foreign business companies. The Daily Prophet even went into great detail about Japanese Herbology Corporations making fortunes at the expense of Albania's current predicament, and that these foreign companies planned to extend their businesses into Britain.

Dolores Umbridge was being painted as a valiant knight who had singlehandedly foreseen the schemes of greedy corporations, and, like a 'brave champion', had stopped the storm before it could overwhelm the 'everyday business owner'. Ron was truly disgusted by the Daily Prophet's tripe, but he wasn't really surprised at this point. He wasn't even surprised to see Barnabas Cuffe's name under the byline. He really is a greedy little cunt, isn't he? He offers friendship with one hand, and stabs me in the back with the other.

Ron put the paper down before rubbing his forehead, completely ignoring the looks of concern on Xeno, Molly, and Pandora's faces. The Daily Prophet took a cheap shot at the Japanese Herbology Corporations just to make this legislation look like a preventive measure. That won't go over well for the International Diplomat to the Japanese. The worst part about this, however, is that people will eat this shit up. They'll believe the Daily Prophet as they always do, and many will hold the Japanese's 'greed' in contempt. The Old Families once again come out on top, and the people who they are oppressing will thank them for it.

"Ron, are you not hungry?" Pandora finally asked, they had all agreed to tread carefully around him.

"They're trying to convince the people of Britain that this legislation isn't Xenophobic, but rather, a preventive measure against greedy corporations," Ron said, though he was mostly speaking to himself. "They are pretending to be champions for the common people, all the while isolating our country so they can maintain their power."

"Once the Quibbler starts being published, we'll fight back, Ron," Xeno said, and Ron's head perked up because someone had finally said something useful. He's right… I'm letting this overwhelm me.

"You're right, Xeno," Ron smiled at the man. "You're absolutely right. Once we're ready, we'll fight back as hard as we can." Lamenting never changes a thing, only action brings about change.

"You'll need your strength, then," Xeno capitalized on Ron's mood swing. "Can't fight on an empty belly, right?"

"Right," Ron nodded to himself, and then he began eating his breakfast. The Old Families are used to controlling all of the Media, but soon, I'll have my own mouthpiece. When I put all the problems of this country under a microscope, people will notice. Marietta's articles shook even the Fawleys, which all but confirms that misinformation is the Old Families' greatest weapon. I just need to press forward, and as Dumbledore suggested, let my enemies think that I'm defeated. If they can blindside me, then I can blindside them.

"Is everything to your liking?" Molly asked, and Ron looked to her with a slightly confused look. Why does she sound so 'careful' right now?

"Mum, what is it?" Ron asked. "Actually, you're all acting a bit off this morning… Distant, but in a creepy sort of way."

"A creepy sort of way?" Xeno looked to his wife, who patted the man's arm gently.

"Yeah, creepy," Ron said. "You're not talking, but you keep staring at me like I'm a kicked puppy." It's quite off-putting. "What is it?"

"We just want to know if you're doing alright," Pandora said gently.

"You've been having a rough few days, and yesterday, you and Sebastian had a bit of a… clash…" Molly said, and Ron just stared at her.

"We had a difference of opinion, that's all," Ron told them. "It's known to happen…"

"Really? You clash with Sebastian?" Pandora looked quite surprised. Not often, but I'm not afraid to give my opinion to the man. Why are they being so weird about it?

"Guys, how did Lord Greengrass react after I left?" Ron asked them.

"Well… He was quiet," Xeno replied. "Actually, we all were… But he was extra quiet." What is 'extra quiet'?

"We're worried that the pressure is getting to you," Molly blurted out, and Pandora let out a sigh.

"Molly…" Pandora gave the Weasley matriarch a tired look.

"You have a stress disorder, love… We think that you should slow down," Molly went on. "At least enjoy Christmas… You're barely spending any time with your siblings, or your friends." Do they not realize that the most powerful people in this country are railroading me?

"Mum… I'm in the middle of being attacked by the most powerful people in Britain," Ron said, he was more confused than upset with their behavior. "Sure, I've been a little distant… But it's not out of spite. I'm genuinely trying to find my footing here. So much has gone wrong for me so quickly, so it's only natural that I'm a bit shaken." I need to be patient with them, or I'll just have another fight on my hands. Use your Occlumency, Ron, despite how shit it is.

"That's understandable," Pandora quickly jumped in. "But what Sirius told us yesterday was… shocking… to say the least. Ron, are you really trying to start some massive movement? Are you… ?" Pandora drew in a sharp breath before whispering. "Are you manipulating the children in your study group?"

"In a way, yes," Ron replied truthfully, and Pandora's mouth hung open in shock. "What? That surprises you?"

"Ronnie… Those children look up to you," Molly said, she looked genuinely disturbed. "I've spoken to some of them, remember? They think of you as their older sibling… Their mentor…"

"And I am good to them," Ron said, clearly there was some form of miscommunication here. "They have good grades, they have a mentor in me, and I protect them from bullying and other such issues… But at the same time, I want them to be more tolerant. Not just of each other, but of all types of people. Mum, Hogwarts is the perfect place to make change. If they learn to be better as children, they'll grow up to be better adults. That's just common sense."

"It just feels… cold," Molly said, though she did agree with some of Ron's points. "You're manipulating them… They trust you, Ron, and you're abusing that trust."

"Abusing their trust?" Ron couldn't believe this. "My study group has made great strides in ending House rivalry… I mean, most of my Slytherin first years are friends with even Gryffindors now. There's a reason why even Madam Pince is supportive of us… I'm trying to end all of this silly hatred."

"Then you should step out into the light, and make change that way," Pandora said. "This whole… Working from the shadows… Putting thoughts into people's heads… It's wrong." Wrong?

"You think if I just stand out in the Great Hall, and tell people to be more like me, they'll immediately jump at the chance to change?" Ron asked. "They would label me an arrogant tosser, and they'd be right to do so."

"Not all of them would listen, but some would," Pandora argued. "There is a right way, and a wrong way, to do things."

"You think I'm wrong, then," Ron just stared at her. "You think I didn't try to make people see the light the right way? Because I did… In my first year, I fought anyone who displayed cruelty for no apparent reason. I openly defended Muggle-Borns, I made friends with people from outside of Slytherin, and I even threw myself under the bus for my Gryffindor friends. Do you where that got me? Nowhere. My House-mates hated me, my Gryffindor friends stabbed me in the back at the first opportunity, and my own Family worked behind my back to undo my work. That's where the 'right way' got me. And so, I adapted, and now, I'm actually making a difference."

Ron stood up at that, he was both hurt and surprised by their lack of understanding. They really have such little faith in me? Or is this simply because I don't think like they do? What? Since I'm not prattling on about love and peace, I'm the manipulative trust abuser? What the fuck? I love the kids in my study group, and I don't want them to get hurt in the hate-fueled war started by you adults. I want the fighting to end, or at least the fighting that comes from stupid things like Blood-Status.

"I'm going to go," Ron said, his head shaking in disbelief. "If I stay here, we'll just start fighting, because apparently, you've all already decided that I'm not doing things 'the right way'." What even makes you think that you have all the answers?

"Ronald, you can't just walk away from this," Molly said.

"But I can, and I am," Ron looked back. "I don't want to fight with you, especially because we're finally starting to recover our relationship… But I will not sit here and let all of you tell me what's right and wrong. None of you are in a position to tell me what's right and wrong." Ron then looked to Pandora. "Not a single one of you." She's an intelligent witch, but she clearly has doubts about my intentions. Pandora Lovegood doubts my intentions… What in the actual fuck? They all worship a man who literally treats this war as a fucking Chess game, and they're telling me what to do?

Ron was astounded by their arrogance, and he knew that if he sat there and listened to them, he was going to lose his temper. Good Lord… They literally worship a man who adheres to my methods, and yet, they're so blind, they actually think they have the right to question my 'cold' approach to the issue. I don't even know what to say to that.

---

One Hour Later

"Mr. Crouch will see you now," the secretary said as she popped her head into the waiting room. Finally! I've been sitting here for days!

"Thanks," Ron stood up, buttoned his coat, and then he followed the secretary towards Crouch's Office.

Surprisingly, Ron had found himself liking this Department's Offices far more than he liked the Aurors' Offices. Unlike the Aurors' Offices, Crouch's employees kept their Offices in perfect condition. There were no errant parchments, no excessive noise, the cubicles were clean and organized, and the workers here looked generally happy about the state of things. Some of them had even smiled and waved at Ron, no doubt because they had heard of his exploits. It was quite jarring to learn that a man like Bartemius Crouch Snr kept his employees happy and productive, while Madam Bones simply let her employees do as they pleased as long as they got results. When I do get Offices for the Quibbler, I'll definitely take a page out of Barty Crouch's book.

"Just a quick warning," the secretary said as she came to a halt. "He's under a lot of pressure right now, so please don't stress him any further." Huh?

"Is it because the Daily Prophet used the Japanese as a scapegoat in order to excuse Umbridge's new legislation?" Ron asked.

"You hit it with a needle," the secretary gave him a half-smile. "Please, go right in."

Ron did as he was told, and he entered the Office after giving a quick knock at the door.

"Mr. Weasley," Crouch 'greeted', his eyes fixed on the parchments on his desk. "Take a seat." This Office is immaculate! Nothing seems to be out of place.

Ron stepped further into the Office, his eyes scanning the clean room with a hint of envy. I should keep my workplace clean as well. It's… calming… in an odd sort of way. Ron took a seat opposite to Crouch, and after drawing in a deep breath, he made sure to keep his eyes fixed on the busy man.

"Well?" Crouch looked up. "What can I do for you?"

"I want to apologize for my past behavior," Ron started, and Crouch gave the boy his full attention. "I've thought about what you said, and you were dead right. I was lazy, entitled, and extremely unprofessional. I didn't treat my new job as a job, but rather, as a pastime. Just another notch in my belt. It wasn't fair to you, this Department, or the French, I see that now."

"And you are here to prove to me that you can change?" Crouch asked.

"I can change," Ron promised. "I want to learn, Sir, and I want to improve relations with the French. I want to be a part of your workforce."

Crouch just stared at Ron, and Ron made sure to maintain eye contact. I can't back down, because if I show even a hint of weakness, he'll toss me out of the Office. Just bear with the uncomfortable silence, Ron. Just power through.

"I heard that you dropped by last night," Crouch said, and Ron gave a nod. "Pamela told you that I was in France, yes?"

"She did," Ron replied. Pamela… So that's the secretary's name.

"Do you want to know why I was there, Mr. Weasley?" Crouch asked rather coldly, and Ron gave another nod. "I was saving your job." What?

"Pardon?" Ron blinked.

"You see, after the French left for their country, it wasn't long before they were all hauled into the French Ministry by my French counterpart, Roberta Berger," Crouch explained. "Roberta demanded answers from them, especially answers about Britain's latest legislation, and piece by piece, Roberta got the truth. Well, she got the truth that your 'allies' gave her."

Ron felt his stomach tighten painfully, something was definitely wrong here.

"In order to save face, they threw you under the bus," Crouch told Ron, who felt like the wind had been kicked out of his lungs. Madame Maxime wouldn't do that to me… "Now, not all the French stabbed you in the back… Madame Maxime, the Lenoirs, the Delacours, Emilia Travers, and the Heroux Family stood by you, and even defended you against any slander, which ended up saving your job, but all the other Families called you out to be 'distant', 'lacking in communication skills', and some even said that you were too young for your position."

"When I got there to put out the fire, I instead learned that the French Ministry was looking for someone to blame," Crouch went on, while Ron just listened with an aching heart. "They, of course, understand that the British Families are behind this mess, but since they can't go after such powerful people, they instead looked to blame one of their own. This resulted in your 'allies' throwing you to the wolves in order to save their own hides, and now, Roberta Berger is demanding that you be fired for incompetence. This way, she can tell her superiors that she's done something about this political shit-storm, and things can slowly begin to return to normal."

"I see…" Ron looked down at his lap, his mind reeling from yet another betrayal.

"I don't plan to fire you," Crouch said, and Ron looked back up. "In fact, I don't enjoy threats in general. Roberta has no right to call for your head, especially because Madame Maxime has been less than forthcoming with me. I told Roberta to keep her politics in her own Ministry."

"Thanks…" Ron managed, but Crouch just frowned at Ron's response.

"I don't want your gratitude, I want you to step up and prove your worth to me," Crouch said. "I won't deny that your stunt with Amelia was quite clever, and that you strong-armed the Ministry singlehandedly. It was impressive, so I'm certain that you have potential. But Mr. Weasley… You have been making mistake after mistake, and I'm quickly reaching my limit. I don't have time to keep dealing with the French, especially after what the Daily Prophet published this morning."

"The accusations against the Japanese," Ron said, and Crouch gave him a curt nod.

"I now have to leave for Japan in order to explain to them that the Ministry had nothing to do with what the Daily Prophet published, and I assure you, they won't believe me in the slightest," Crouch said. Probably because it's not true. "I need you to get the French situation under control, and I need you to stop fucking things up even more. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Sir," Ron tried his best to sound strong, despite being shaken by yet another blow. "No more fuck ups, I promise."

Deep down, Ron could feel his rage stirring. Enough was fucking enough! How many people were going to fuck him over before he learned his lesson?! This is where the 'right' way gets you… I put my faith in these people to do the right thing, and they fucked me over! Enough! No more half-measures! I'm shutting this entire thing down, and if anyone gets in my way, I'll take their fucking life!

"Good," Crouch said. "I need you to go to France… Today. I will arrange a Portkey for you, and said Portkey will take you to Beauxbatons. Get in touch with Madame Maxime, and find a way to fix this mess. If this situation keeps escalating, the French will pull out of our plans for the future, which will result in hostilities between our two countries for decades to come."

---

Tracey Davis' POV

Thursday 24th December, 1993 (The Burrow – Morning)

Tracey was sorely disappointed with herself. If she had only managed to wake up on time, she could have seen Ron return from his morning run. Sweaty. Panting. Hair in his face. Oh, and his tight clothes hugging his muscles. Hmm, it would've been great.

Tracey, of course, knew that Ron was off the table, and that Daphne would have her killed if she tried anything, but there was nothing wrong with fantasizing. After all, she had seen Ron's eyes linger on her before. And not just Ron, but Theo and Blaise also tend to eye us girls whenever we wear slightly revealing clothes. Maybe Pansy's right, and we ought to show off our 'assets' more often. Maybe that will be enough to drive Theo crazy! Hehe.

"Why are you smiling in such a lecherous way?" Daphne whispered, and Tracey quickly schooled her features.

"No reason," Tracey said, her eyes darting towards Theo. Look at him… Speaking to Longbottom about the Daily Prophet. I need to find a convincing reason to make him kiss me again. I bet Pansy will have some deliciously wonderful ideas for me.

"There it is again," Daphne whispered, her eyes following Tracey's gaze.

"I'm just in a good mood," Tracey said slyly. "That's all, Daph…"

"Right," Daphne went back to her breakfast, and Tracey turned her smile towards her best friend.

"Want to tell me why you're being so mopey?" Tracey asked.

"I'm not mopey…" Daphne drawled. "I'm just… frustrated… Why won't mother's Family return my letters?"

"You only sent them yesterday," Tracey cocked an eyebrow. "Daph, you're spiraling."

"And why is my father on my case now?" Daphne whined, completely ignoring Tracey. "If I want to help the Werewolves, then I'll bloody help the Werewolves." Ron, is that you in there? "Not to mention his intrusive questions about Ron's recent behavior… Merlin, they're so bloody annoying. Why can't they just leave him alone?"

"Because nitpicking him is their hobby," Tracey whispered, her eyes darting towards Ron's siblings.

It was no secret that Tracey hated how often Ron was portrayed as the villain by his own Family, and it pissed her off even more when she saw Ron's siblings get away with far worse behavior. The twins terrorize the school, and it's no big deal. Ginny acts like a tart, and it's just business as usual. Ron voices his opinion, and he is demon spawn birthed right from Satan's arsehole. Even Theo agrees that Ron's Family needs to calm the fuck down, and he's been trying to kiss everyone's arse from the moment he got here.

"Mrs. Weasley, your cooking skills are just awe-worthy," Theo said just as Tracey finished her thoughts, and Molly Weasley let out a bashful chuckle. "I really hope that one day soon, Hogwarts will hire you as their Head-Chef."

"Oh, you're so well-mannered, Theodore," Molly all but sang from the sink, while everyone on the dining table just gave Theo bland looks. He's so greedy… I love it.

"Is the Daily Prophet right about the Japanese companies?" Granger asked, she was clearly trying to be a part of Theo and Longbottom's discussion.

"No, not at all," Longbottom replied immediately, and with quite a bit of gusto. "These companies spend most of their time protecting nature, and this article is a direct insult to their cause." Wow, he's a passionate one.

"Longbottom's right," Theo added. "This is clearly just a game of passing the blame around. We all know why this legislation came into existence, after all."

"They wanted to sabotage Ron," Percy said, and that made the twins and Ginny listen in.

"Exactly," Theo said. "And, they got what they wanted. Most people who read this drivel will believe it, because let's be honest, the British don't know a damn thing about these companies, and they will side with their own Ministry."

"I still don't get why they would make such a legislation," Granger said. "I mean, is Ron really such a threat to the Pure-Bloods?"

"Not the Pure-Bloods, just certain Old Families," Daphne spoke up. "Stop generalizing people. Not all of us Pure-Bloods appreciate this business-murdering, idiotic legislation." Yeesh, she's in a mood this morning. But she's also right, Granger needs to stop putting every Pure-Blood in the same bracket.

Tracey waited for Ginny Weasley to say something stupid, but surprisingly, the girl kept her mouth closed. She's definitely behaving differently ever since her chat with Ron. Maybe he finally got through to her?

"Is Ron really a threat to certain Pure-Blood Families?" Granger corrected herself, though there was a hint of hostility in her voice. A fight? I should've brought popcorn.

"It's not just him," Theo shrugged, ignoring Granger's tone. "His ideas, and his allies, are bound to bring change, and the Old Families can't allow that. Think of it this way… What happens when a certain country implements an ideal that is envied by your country?"

"People would want that ideal implemented in their own country," Percy said, and Theo nodded.

"Basically, outside influence will cause destabilization, and because of said destabilization, the Old Families lose their power," Theo explained. "Ron is the person who opened the floodgates, and for that, he was quickly struck down."

"He's not done yet," Daphne said coldly, and then she just went back to her breakfast. Say what you will about her, but she is dead loyal to her boyfriend.

"So Ron is technically fighting against the bad guys?" Fred asked, and Tracey just gave him a bland stare. The bad guys? What the fuck does that even mean? Also, why does he sound so surprised? Where is the faith in your own kin, you prick?

"It's not that simple," Longbottom jumped in, his eyes darting towards the Slytherins. "What Ron is currently mixed up in is highly political, and both sides have good points on their sides." He's such a peacekeeper. You know, I actually quite like Longbottom. He was a prat during second year, but he's finally stopped being a blind sheep. Shame that Granger and Potter aren't learning a damn thing from him.

"What good points do the Pure-Bloods have?" Potter asked, a deadpan look on his face.

"Well, for one, we built this country," Draco finally spoke up. "Who do you think pays for its upkeep? It's certainly not the Veelas." Uh-oh, this won't sit over well. We're in a house full of Gryffindors, and seeing things from a logical point of view is considered a sin in this place. "As for concern stemming from outside influences, should I remind you that Ron's allies betrayed him in a bid for power? Corban Yaxley wasn't actually wrong about them, and this legislation stopped a war."

"Why am I not surprised to see you defending the likes of Corban Yaxley?" Fred said, while his twin just gave Draco a bored look.

"Enough political talk," Molly had heard enough. "Fred Weasley, I will not stand for such disrespect against our guests. Apologize."

"What? No," Fred looked appalled, while the others concentrated on their breakfasts.

"No?!" Molly Weasley turned around with a murderous glare, and Fred Weasley shrunk in his chair.

"Is everything alright in here?" Xenophilius Lovegood stepped into the Kitchen from the Living Room. Save yourself, handsome! "Molly?"

Molly Weasley just glared at her defiant son, who was now staring at his plate with a creeping grin. The silence was eerie, but in an odd sort of way, Tracey was enjoying it. She personally didn't like discussing politics, mostly because they bored the life out of her, but just this once, she was glad that people were discussing what was happening. Maybe Ron's siblings will follow their parents' lead, and just give Ron a fucking break.

Because of the silence, the sound of the fireplace blazing to life echoed throughout the lower levels of the house.

"Sirius is here," Potter looked visibly relieved.

But it wasn't Sirius Black who stepped into the Kitchen, it was Ron himself.

"Ronnie?" Molly looked quite surprised to see him back so soon, while Xeno moved further into the Kitchen.

"I have to go to France, and I won't be back until dinner," Ron told everyone. "Just thought that I'd give you a heads up."

"Why are you going to France?" Luna asked, and something flashed behind Ron's eyes.

"Because the French who didn't betray me… ended up betraying me as well," Ron said, and everyone just went dead quiet. God is really out to get him, isn't he? "They sold me out to save their own skins, and now, I have to go and fix this mess alone because Mr. Crouch is currently leaving for Japan." He's speaking really quickly, and the veins in his neck are popping… Merlin, he's really angry, isn't he?

"Love, I'm really sorry to hear that," Molly gave Ron a sorry look, but it was wasted on him.

"Oh, don't be sorry for me," Ron said, a deranged glint in his eyes. "I'm honestly not 'upset' anymore… I'm just really fucking angry." Ron then smiled in a cruel manner, something that made people extremely uncomfortable. "Daphne, do you want to come to France with me?" Huh?

"Um…" Daphne looked truly jarred.

"I will be visiting certain Families, and you can discuss your business plans with them while I deal with my mess," Ron said, and Daphne immediately stood up.

"I'll come along," Daphne gave a firm nod. Um, can we come along too? I want to see France.

"Great, let's go," Ron turned to leave.

"Ron, wait!" Molly called, and Ron turned around with his 'smile' still in place.

"Yes, mother dearest?" Ron asked, his voice shaking slightly. Fuck France, I'm not going anywhere with him when he's like this. "What is it now?"

"You can't just take Daphne abroad… She needs permission from her parents…" Molly muttered, Ron's crazed appearance was scaring the life out of her.

"Permission from her parents?" Ron laughed maniacally, and then he looked at Daphne. "Are you coming, or not? I only had ten minutes to spare, and I bolted down here for your sake."

"I'm coming," Daphne all but ran up to Ron. "Let's go."

Ron turned around, and just like that, he and Daphne were gone.

"What. Just. Happened?" George Weasley asked, while the others exchanged slow looks.

"You remember what I said about Ron losing his temper, Mrs. Weasley?" Theo asked, and she nodded dumbly. "Well, this is it."

"Did I miss something?" Pandora Lovegood asked as she came down the stairs, her sharp eyes examining the shaken, and confused, expressions on everyone's faces.

---

Daphne Greengrass' POV

Thursday 24th December, 1993 (Beauxbatons – Morning)

A small part of Daphne was extremely glad that Ron had come running to get her just so she could speak face to face with her potential business partners, but a bigger part of her was now starting to fear the repercussions of her flight from home. She knew that once she got back to Britain, her mother and father were going to tear her to pieces. Her father was already being moody about her 'keeping secrets' from him, and this would send the man over the edge.

Daphne looked over to Ron, who was swaying back and forth in his seat. He looked extremely agitated, and when her eyes landed on his jaw, she realized that he was gnashing his teeth. Merlin, I've seen him angry before… But this is something else. He looks murderous. The carriage ride to Beauxbatons had been spent in silence so far, but Daphne knew that she had to speak to him before they entered the school. It's now, or never, Daphne. Just do it!

"The grounds are really beautiful, aren't they?" Daphne asked. That's what I started with?!

"Too bad they're occupied by Veela scum," Ron snarled, his eyes fixed on the window. Veela scum?

"So they really turned on you as well?" Daphne asked. "The ones who stuck with you at first, I mean." Do I really want to do business with people who did that to Ron? No, I don't.

"Not all of them," Ron replied. "The Delacours, Emilia Travers, the Heroux Family, and Madame Maxime defended me."

"Really?" Daphne perked up, but she immediately scolded herself for sounding so happy. So this is why Ron brought me. He knows that I still have a shot at winning over my business partners.

"Don't look sorry just because I got shafted," Ron shot her a quick look. "I'm glad that you still have a chance at fixing things on your end."

Daphne couldn't help but smile a little at that, and she slowly scooted right beside Ron. He thought of me even in this state? I don't think that I could've done that. Daphne took his right hand into hers, and much to her despair, she realized that Ron's hand was trembling horribly. Stress…

"Ron-" Daphne started.

"They fucked me over," Ron grit out. "Fucking cunts… I brought them to England to do some good. I did things the right and honest way, and this is what they do? They start plotting against our Ministry? They turn on each other for political gain? And now, they throw me under the bus so that the Veela community doesn't suffer a bad image?"

"A bad image?" Daphne asked for clarification.

"Think about it, Daph," Ron looked to her, the veins in his forehead were popping out. "When their own Ministry started questioning them, they realized that Lady Abadie's attempts at starting a war would reflect poorly on Veelas in general… Guilt by association, and all that… So, what do they do?"

"They protect their own, and since you're not French or Veela, they tossed you to the wolves," Daphne realized. "Merlin… This situation keeps getting worse everyday."

"It's my fault," Ron said coldly.

"What do you mean?" Daphne asked.

"I've been kind and understanding," Ron scoffed. "I was patient, I was trusting, and I truly believed that just this once, I'd see a decent side of people. But no… Instead, I've been taking a beating from all sides. Well, it stops now. I'll make damn sure of it."

His tone was starting to scare her, and she knew all too well what Ron was capable of in his anger. What he did to Flint still terrifies me… It terrifies all of us.

"You can't attack them, Ron," Daphne heard her own voice say. "This isn't Hogwarts, and these are powerful people. There will be consequences."

"Oh, I'm not going to attack them," Ron's lips twitched upwards, and Daphne's skin began to crawl. "I'm just going to put them under my heel. I'm not exactly defenseless myself, and in case you've forgotten, the Veela community attempted to assassinate me."

"What?" Daphne blinked. "They did?"

"During the Junior League Tournament," Ron said. "They attempted to murder the competition over a trophy… It was pure barbarity, and it proves that Veelas are not like the rest of us humans. They have no compassion, and they are ruled by their need to dominate those around them."

"Ron…" Daphne was shocked to hear him say such a thing.

"That's what I'll print in my magazine, anyway," Ron said, and Daphne realized what he was implying. He'll turn the entire World against them… What they fear most is exactly what Ron has the power to accomplish. "Sure, it'll result in mass persecution for the Veela community, but at this point, I don't give a fuck. They want to fuck with me? Well, I'll fuck right back."

"Ron… Um… If you do that, the Heroux Family…" Daphne stopped herself. What am I even saying? Ron is getting betrayed constantly, and I only care about my own business? Selfish.

"It's a bluff," Ron drawled. "Try and keep up, please. Merlin…" What? I'm so confused now. He's not making any damn sense in his current state.

"Don't speak to me like that," Daphne said firmly. "I'm on your side, you prat."

Ron seemed to wake up a little at that, and he looked back to her with a blank look on his face. Daphne frowned a little because, despite his current state, he had no right to take his anger out on her. But when his expression turned remorseful, Daphne's frown disappeared immediately.

"I… I'm sorry…" Ron apologized, his voice slightly strained. "I just realized how rude that was…" Oh, I can't stay angry with him right now. He's been through so much over the last three days.

"I'm on your side, Ron," Daphne said once again, and Ron nodded weakly. "You can't let your anger blind you like this."

Ron nodded again, and after he drew in a deep breath, he rested his head on her shoulder. Cuddles? Seriously, what is going through his head right now? Does… Does he want a hug, or something? Daphne decided to test her theory, and when she put her arms around his shoulders, he all but melted into her.

"I won't antagonize the Heroux Family," Ron promised. "Or anyone else who stayed loyal… I'm just really, really angry…"

"And hurt?" Daphne whispered into his hair, but Ron didn't answer her question. He'll never admit to that right now.

"I'll do whatever it takes to help your business plans," Ron whispered, sounding rather tired. "Just let me know if you need my help with anything, alright?"

"Right now, you should focus on fixing things with the French," Daphne subtly began to fix his hair into place. Can't have him looking like a deranged murderer. "What if your bluff doesn't work?"

"It'll work," Ron nuzzled his face into her neck. His breath tickles. "None of them want a scandal, which is why they're throwing me under the bus." Oh, that makes sense. "If I promise to raise hell for them, they'll meet my demands. Honestly, I'm better at this sort of negotiation than I am at appealing to the 'goodness' of others."

"I don't think that's completely true, Ron," Daphne wiped the sweat from his brow with her sleeve. "You convinced the Fawleys just last night that they needed to do right by the Werewolves… You also convinced me, by the way." I've never spared the Werewolf community a thought, and now, I can't stop thinking about them.

Ron looked up at that, his eyes meeting hers.

"Really?" Ron asked. "You want to help them?"

"I really do," Daphne replied truthfully. "You were right, Ron, they deserve better than what they have. Despite their condition, they're still human. I mean, most of them live away from people just so they can avoid biting people during the full moon. They tie themselves to trees, bury their children, and starve…" Daphne felt her throat tighten, those articles had all but traumatized her. "I just can't believe that people don't know about these things…"

"The Old Ways are to blame for that," Ron said. "It's easier to just pin the blame on someone else, especially when your power is in question. Oh, and don't mistake me, the whole World is guilty of that. I mean, the French have just done that to me, haven't they?"

"Then maybe, you can't always use kind words when speaking to your allies," Daphne said thoughtfully. Maybe you have to be terrible sometimes in order to keep the other terrible people in check.

"Well, I've tried being a team player with the French, and that blew up in my face," Ron said. "No more… I'll make them regret fucking with me."

"You know what? Just this once, I hope you make them hurt," Daphne said. It's clear that I'm no expert negotiator either. Maybe instead of changing Ron's methods, I could learn from his successes. Say what you will about him, but he gets things done. I want to get things done as well.

"Daph, are you there?" Ron whispered, and Daphne broke out of her thoughts.

"Sorry, Ron, I zoned out," Daphne said. "Did you say something?"

"I asked if you wanted to spend some time together after our business meetings," Ron said, and Daphne cocked an eyebrow. "You know, our date got ruined… There is no French Christmas party tomorrow, so I was thinking that we could spend some time in Paris."

"I don't have my Gringotts Pouch on me…" Daphne suddenly realized. Father will kill me tonight, I know it.

"What's mine is yours," Ron patted his suit pocket, which no doubt contained his Gringotts pouch. "We can try that… That coffee dessert you mentioned in Paris… What was it called again?"

"Café liégeois," Daphne smiled widely.

"And we can walk around the stores," Ron added. "I'd… I'd really like a break from all of this, Daph… It's doing my head in."

"I guess my parents can wait a little longer," Daphne agreed excitedly.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Thursday 24th December, 1993 (Beauxbatons – Morning)

"I can't apologize enough, Ronald," Madame Maxime sighed out, and Ron just stared at her.

The moment he had stepped out of the carriage, Ron had felt his anger return with a vengeance. When he had first come to Beauxbatons, it was to seek help for his business. Along the way, Ron had reached too far, and in doing so, created the mess before him. But saying that, Ron no longer blamed himself for the actions of others. Sure, Ron could've done more, but that didn't mean that he was responsible for Lady Abadie's greed. Or for the cowardice displayed by the other French Families. No, they were responsible for their own actions, and it was about time that they were held accountable.

"The Delacours, the Heroux Family, the Lenoirs, and Emilia Travers… I want to meet with them," Ron said, ignoring Madame Maxime's apologies. "Daphne Greengrass, who has accompanied me to France, would also like to speak with them. She had business plans with the Heroux and Travers Families, but the legislation has hurt those plans."

"I see," Madame Maxime tried to study his face, but all she saw was cold indifference. "Why do you wish to see them?"

"I want to thank them," Ron replied. "They had the common decency to not blame me for the actions of their countrymen."

"Ronald… It is all a little more complicated than that," Madame Maxime started, and Ron cocked an eyebrow. I don't like her condescending tone.

"They were looking out for the Veela community," Ron said, and Madame Maxime gave a nod.

"So you understand?" Madame Maxime asked with a weak smile. She wants me to take the hit, doesn't she? Why am I not surprised?

"I understand," Ron replied, and she relaxed a little. "I just don't give a fuck."

"Pardon?" Madame Maxime's eyes popped open.

"You heard me," Ron hissed. "I'm just supposed to lie down and take it because it helps the Veelas escape even more prejudice? Is that it? You know, I'm starting to see a pattern with the Veela community. They abuse their allures in order to get their way, and when that doesn't work, they act like harmless fairies that the World is out to get. People like us, the ones who want to build a better World, give in to their act, and we end up protecting them. And then, they simply repeat the cycle. Lady Abadie is no doubt scheming away somewhere in France, while those who initially opposed her are now protecting her. And why? Because they come from the same breed."

"Breed?" Madame Maxime's mouth dropped open.

"You know what I mean," Ron said harshly. "They're all Veelas, and they're all French. And since I'm not either, they want to pin the whole mess on me. You know that it's not right, but you still want me to throw myself under the bus. Am I wrong?"

"I… No," Madame Maxime sighed out. "No, you are right to be angry."

"I will not take the fall for this," Ron said. "It'll mean the end of my plans within my own Ministry, and I'll never let that happen. I plan to go to the French Ministry today, and by the time I leave, I'll have Roberta Berger on my side."

"How?" Madame Maxime asked.

"She wants to avoid a scandal, and yet, she picked a fight with someone who owns a magazine," Ron replied. "I'll make sure that she understands just how much damage I can do to her Ministry, and the Veela community, if she keeps trying to corner me."

"Not all the Veelas are to blame-"

"Stop using that as an excuse," Ron frowned deeply. "Fifty of them tried to kill me on your fucking orders, in case you've forgotten."

Madame Maxime went dead quiet, her eyes becoming distant.

"I don't care if I'm being harsh anymore," Ron told her. "You can either stand by me, or you can go up in flames along with the Veelas. Either way, I'm not going to lose. I'll treat the loyal ones with admiration and respect, but I'll fucking destroy the bastards who have made my life hell over the last few days. This shit ends today, do you understand?"

Madame Maxime said nothing, but after a few seconds, she gave a nod.

"Whose side are you on?" Ron asked.

---

Thirty Minutes Later

Ron waited in yet another waiting room, this time it was within the French Ministry. Daphne was currently accompanying Madame Maxime to Lenoir Abode, where they would try and collect all the loyal Families. Daphne would no doubt speak with them about her plans while she waited for Ron to finish up with Roberta Berger, and once he had joined her and thanked the loyal Families, they could both leave for their date. I can't wait for that. I'm so sick of this Ministry tripe.

"Monsieur Weasley?" a young looking witch entered the waiting room, and Ron stood up to greet her. "Apologies for the wait, but I was in a meeting. I am Roberta Berger. A pleasure to meet you."

Ron eyed the witch, completely ignoring her request for a handshake. She had a lean figure, long black hair, sharp features, and piercing blue eyes. Ron thought that she looked far too young to hold such a position of power, but when he suddenly felt a weak pang of pain in the back of his skull, he realized that she was part-Veela. Wait… Why does she have black hair?

"You're Veela," Ron stated, becoming even more wary. Sleep your way to the top, did you?

"My… So it's true," she looked quite amazed, her hand falling back to her side. "You can resist us completely. How… abnormal."

"You have black hair," Ron said, his eyebrow cocked.

"Hair dye," Berger said. "Silvery-blonde is so… basic." In what World?

"Or a clever ploy to hide your heritage," Ron stated, and she smiled at him. "No one would suspect a Veela to have black hair, and if she abused her allure, no one would be the wiser."

"That is a serious accusation, Monsieur Weasley," Berger's smile turned into a smirk. I see that she has that Veela arrogance flowing through her. Well, she's never met someone like me before.

"Why give yourself away?" Ron asked.

"We Veelas can't resist our… needs," Berger shrugged calmly. "When we see the untamable, we lose ourselves in our desire to discipline such a beast."

"You mean enslave, right?" Ron asked coldly.

"You are very hostile for a boy whose career is dancing in my palm," Berger walked over and took a seat. "People are already talking, and from what I've gathered, you make for a very poor Diplomat."

"You are quite misinformed," Ron held back his temper, though he felt the urge to slap the smug smile off of her face. "Yes, I didn't constantly bear down on the French during their stay in England, but I am not to blame for their… banishment."

"Is that so?" Berger lost her smile. "Tell me your side of the story, then. What happened in England? Why has your Wizengamot insulted us directly? Why were my countrymen thrown out of England?" Maybe she's not just a pretty face, after all.

"They were thrown out because they are conniving little bastards who got caught with their hands in the cookie jar," Ron said, and Berger looked less than amused. "Corban Yaxley is the one behind the legislation that targets foreign businesses, and the main reason why he enacted this legislation is because he caught onto the ploys of the French." I'm going to throw Abadie under the bus. The French Ministry can either protect her, and be slandered by me. Or, they can hunt her down while working alongside me.

"What ploys?" Berger asked.

"Lady Abadie has been in contact with the Veela tribes of the mountains," Ron put his plan into action.

"Is that so?" Berger looked less than convinced. "The Veela tribes of the mountains don't entertain outsiders… You'd know that if you had any clue about French politics-"

"Shut up and listen," Ron sneered down at her, and Berger looked a little taken aback by his open hostility. "Lady Abadie started an affair with Ludovic Bagman in the hopes of infiltrating the British Ministry, but she was careless, and Corban Yaxley had her investigated. He passed all the evidence over to the British Ministry, who were forced to carry out his will in order to avoid an International Incident. In a way, the British Ministry ended up protecting Lady Abadie, but that also meant that the other French Families were forced to pay for her sins. The legislation, the banishment, this whole fucking mess… It started with the greed of one woman. Poppy Abadie."

Berger looked quite serious now, and then suddenly, she gestured Ron to sit down. Ron decided to play along, and once he was sitting in front of her, he decided to push forward.

"The British still have the evidence," Ron went on. "If the French Ministry keeps pushing for 'justice', it'll blow up in their face. Your face."

"Why would the other Families lie to me?" Berger asked. "They told me that you didn't do a damn thing to stop this mess from escalating."

"You're a Veela, aren't you?" Ron asked. "You tell me why they would protect a traitor in their midst."

"If what are you are saying is even remotely true… The Veela community would come out looking dangerous," Berger said, and Ron gave a nod.

"Lady Abadie didn't act alone," Ron told Berger. "She had Christina Couture, the Beaumonts, the Ancars, and the Donadieus on her side."

"Christina Couture…" Berger looked thoughtful. "Her mother and father were quite vocal about your poor performance…"

"Makes sense," Ron scoffed. "Their daughter is part of a traitorous band of would-be usurpers, and if they tell the French Ministry the truth, they'll lose their daughter."

"So, in essence, you are being used as a scapegoat to protect the Veela community…" Berger said, and then, she gave him a cold look. "Sorry, Monsieur Weasley, but for someone like me, there is no choice in the matter. I cannot let the actions of Poppy Abadie damage the French Ministry and the Veela community. If you are telling the truth, that is."

"Yeah… I figured that you'd be on board with throwing me down the river," Ron smiled cruelly, and Berger cocked an eyebrow. "You want to avoid a massive scandal that makes you French look like cunts, eh? How admirable of you. Such loyalty to your cause." You fucking bitch.

"Are you trying to make a point?" Berger looked bored. "Or have you lost your mind?"

"Remember when I came to France to compete in the Junior League Tournament?" Ron asked, and she gave a slow nod. "Fifty Veelas bombarded me with their allures, an act that caused me immense pain and lasting damage."

"Lasting damage?" Berger asked slowly.

"Just listen," Ron kept smiling. "I was left permanently damaged by this outrageous assault, which was conducted under the orders of Madame Olympe Maxime and Minister Wallace. The Headmistress of Beauxbatons, the French Ministry, and the Veela community conspired to assassinate me."

"Assassinate?" Berger blinked.

"But I forgave them," Ron went on. "Instead of seeking revenge, I put my hand forward in friendship. Madame Maxime later helped me in bringing the French to England in the hopes of improving relations between our countries, but sadly, the French became greedy and attempted to take over the British Ministry. Everything fell apart because of the Veelas, and in the end, the French Ministry blamed me. Me! The person who forgave them for their attempt on my life. The person who genuinely wanted to make things better between the French and the English. The person who took all the blame for the actions of others."

"Tragic," Berger was quickly losing her interest.

"It is, isn't it?" Ron asked. "Well, that's what the people of England will think when I start publishing this story in my magazine."

"What?" Berger suddenly woke up.

"You morons," Ron started laughing, though his blood was boiling. "You want to avoid a scandal, and yet, you pick a fight with someone who owns a Media outlet? Are you fucking retarded?"

Berger's expression darkened, but Ron couldn't care less.

"No matter how you look at this story, one thing is always clear," Ron said. "You Veelas are a conniving, and extremely dangerous, lot. The World will see you all for what you are, and they'll call for justice. 'Justice for Ron'. Ah, that sounds very nice. It'll make for a lovely headline."

"Are you threatening me?" Berger asked coldly.

"This is not a threat, it's a bloody promise," Ron lost his own sick humor. "I can do a lot more damage to you than you can do to me. If anything, I can just use my age to explain away my 'blunders'. But what about you? What the fuck are you going to say? What are the Veelas going to say when people the World over spit on them? Huh?"

"This… This is a drastic action," Berger realized that she was slightly trapped. "You will lose your job at the Ministry-"

"What do you think will happen if I let you blame me for this?" Ron asked. "You are one entitled bitch, aren't you? I'm starting to think that all Veelas are just cunts through and through… But then again, when you're used to getting whatever you want whenever you want it, entitlement is to be expected. Tell me, how did someone as young as you get this job?"

Berger said nothing, but Ron could read her like a book.

"Fucking disgusting…" Ron sneered with genuine disgust. "The rest of us work our arses off, but you just have to bat your eyelashes… You know what? I'll also publish articles on 'Veela infiltrations'."

"Veela infiltrations?" Berger asked slowly, this boy was not right in the head.

"I'll tell the entire World just how often the Veela community abuses their power to get whatever they want," Ron replied. "My first example will be you, Roberta… I'm sure a lot of people would love to know how you got your job."

"We can use the Daily Prophet-"

"Oh, please," Ron rolled his eyes at her stupidity. "The people who own the Daily Prophet hate your kind, and if you go to them, they'll go out of their way to defame the Veelas alongside me. You realize that I was on your side, right? The people who you think will help you genuinely despise you, but I was loyal to the French. Hell, I even wanted to help fight for Veela rights, but you bastards… You just ruined everything. You've made me just as bad you…"

"Monsieur Weasley, this conversation has taken a wrong turn-" Berger started, her voice almost calming.

"Don't try that shit with me," Ron cut her off. "Don't try and calm me down now that you've come to realize that I hold all the cards. You were so quick to trust your own, but the truth is that they are lying pieces of shit, and they've fucked you over. They want to protect the Veelas, just like you, but unlike you, they're filthy rich. They'll be protected. You, however, will have to face the music. The French Ministry, the Veela community, and even some of the Old French Families will learn just how bad things can get. You'll be a joke the World over, and no other country will want to deal with conniving serpents like you."

Ron stood up at that, although he had no intention to leave. She looks desperate. Good. Time to push her further.

"Good day," Ron said as he headed for the door.

"Wait," Berger called, and Ron stopped walking. "What do you want?"

"What do I want?" Ron turned to face her.

"If you really wanted to cause a massive scandal, you wouldn't show me your cards," Berger said. "You want something from me." Alright, maybe she's not completely useless.

"Firstly, I want you to stop coming for my head," Ron walked back to her, his tall figure looming over her. "Secondly, I want to teach these French Families a lesson, and you will help me with that."

"A lesson?" Berger asked.

"The Abadies, the Ancars, the Donadieus, the Beaumonts, and Christina Couture," Ron started. "I want them arrested by the French Ministry."

"What?"

"You heard me," Ron said coldly. "I understand that they are prominent Families, and that, just like Britain, they control a vast amount of the country, but saying that, I currently have you by the short hairs. All their power won't do a damn thing to stop the damage that I can inflict on France."

"You are insane," Berger looked shocked.

"No… I'm the only person around who isn't insane," Ron leaned down a little, his face hovering over hers. She's squirming because of my closeness. "I have listed four prominent families, and a spoiled brat… Their loss will hurt France, but it won't break France. You'll still have over a dozen prominent Families to rely on."

"And what are we arresting them for?" Berger muttered.

"I don't know," Ron chuckled. "Arrest them for being traitors, or something."

"This… How are we…? Just listen," Berger spluttered. "What you are suggesting… It will cause severe damage to us… These Families are respected the World over… There will be questions."

'There will be questions when I start publishing articles!" Ron snapped, making her flinch. "You can either protect these four Families, or you can watch the entire Veela community be labeled as monsters! You can watch as the other Ministries cut their ties from the French Ministry in order to avoid getting caught up in your mess! You think I won't do it?! Trust me, I fucking will! I am beyond caring about your political agendas! You'll do as I command, or there will be hell to pay!"

Ron took a step back at that, and Berger leaned forward before rubbing her face with her hands.

"The Minister… I have to speak to him…" Berger muttered.

"We'll speak with him, you mean," Ron said, and Berger looked up at him. "I'm not letting you fuck me over again. Come on, let's go right now."

---

One Hour Later

"And you say that the British still have evidence against Poppy…" Minister Wallace said, his eyes hadn't left Berger for the last twenty minutes. He calls her Poppy? Wow. She probably fucked him as well in order to garner his favor.

"They do," Berger said, her eyes darting towards Head-Auror Paul Durand.

"I believe Mr. Weasley," Durand said, and Ron was quite taken aback by this support. His accent… It's just like Madam Roberts'. Is he from the States? "It is no secret that certain Veela Families are… ambitious, and he would not spin such a tale if he could not back it up. This will turn into a disaster for us."

"Monsieur Weasley, is there any way that I can convince you to keep your silence?" Minister Wallace asked. "Perhaps another 'gift' from the French Ministry?"

"I'm not for sale," Ron refused. "I came here to put an end to this mess, and that's what I intend to do."

"We are willing to let all of this go," Minister Wallace said quickly. "You will not be blamed, nor will we blame the British Ministry. We can simply return to how things were before this debacle." That… works. But no, I'm not letting Poppy Abadie get away so easily.

"And what about Lady Abadie?" Ron asked. "She's still planning to convince the Veela tribes of the mountains to infiltrate Britain."

"We will take care of Poppy," Minister Wallace assured him.

"You mean you'll slap her wrist, and then take a bribe from her?" Ron asked bluntly, and he noticed the Head-Auror smirk a little. "Tell you what? Let's settle for a compromise instead." I shouldn't reach too far, I've learnt that already.

"Yes, of course," Minister Wallace agreed quickly.

"I want Christina Couture to be returned to her mother and father," Ron started listing his revised demands. "I'll even forget about the Ancars, the Beaumonts, and the Donadieus… But Poppy Abadie and her husband will be arrested."

Minister Wallace let out a sigh as he rubbed his forehead.

"One Family instead of four is… very manageable," Durand said slowly. "And the Coutures will be grateful to have their errant daughter returned to them."

"Minister, Lady Abadie has made her choice," Ron spoke up. "She clearly doesn't respect you, or this Ministry, because if she did, she wouldn't try to pull this stunt. She even had the gall to say that if she snapped her fingers, you'd come running to her side like a trained dog."

"Pardon?" Minister Wallace looked up.

"She clearly thinks of you as a servant, and personally, I don't blame her," Ron said. "She is beyond arrogant, and she is only this way because none of you have stood up to her before. Her allure is quite powerful, isn't it? She tried it on me, and although it didn't work, I felt its power nonetheless. She is used to getting her way, and that makes her weak. She won't expect this, especially if it's done today."

"I can charge the Abadies with Conspiracy," Durand said, and Ron decided that he liked this man. "They are also guilty of Corruption, Bribing Ministry Officials, and Treason."

"This will be all over the papers…" Minister Wallace looked a hundred years older. Just like Fudge… He only cares about the damn headlines. Fuck I hate politicians.

"You can have this over the papers, or you can have my stories over the papers," Ron reminded the Minister. "Despite my anger with the French, I don't want to cause the Veela community any lasting damage. Believe it or not, I don't hate them… But I also can't let you people frame me for a crime that I didn't commit. You've made your bed, and now you have to sleep in it."

"Minister, I heartily advise you to listen to Mr. Weasley," Durand said. Who are you? And why are you so keen to help me?

"Minister…" Berger started weakly. "The Tournament will fall through… We'll be blamed for it…"

"Are you referring to the Triwizard Tournament?" Ron asked them, and they all looked shocked by his knowledge. "Despite what your countrymen told you, I'm not an incompetent idiot. I know of the Tournament, and I even know that it's being held at Hogwarts. Don't worry, I haven't told a soul about it. It is, after all, sensitive information."

The Minister stared at Ron with an exhausted look, and then he shook his head to himself.

"Paul, gather your Aurors…" Minister Wallace all but whispered.

---

Twenty Minutes Later

Ron walked into the Lenoirs' Living Room, a happy smile on his face. Their house was quite modest, and because of that, he easily spotted Daphne having a pleasant conversation with Ron's loyal allies. Madame Maxime, the Lenoirs, the Heroux Family, and Emilia. They're all here.

"Hello," Ron greeted them as he stepped further into the room, and every eye darted towards him.

"Ronald, how did it go?" Madame Maxime asked quickly.

"Oh, it went great," Ron smiled at her. "Even as we speak, Poppy Abadie and her bitch of a husband are being arrested by the French Aurors."

Madame Maxime's face dropped, what had he done?

"Really?" Emilia smirked, while Daphne and others were visibly shocked.

"What have you done?" Madame Maxime muttered. "Why did you not discuss this with me?"

"Did you bother to alert me when your countrymen threw me to the wolves?" Ron asked in return. We are not equals in this partnership, not anymore. I won't be shafted by Frenchmen again.

"Ron…" Daphne shot a look towards the French Families.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Ron turned his 'smile' in their direction. "I'm just a little… upset… about everything that's transpired. I want to personally thank you all for… Well, for doing the right thing. For staying loyal to Madame Maxime and I, and for not trying to take the easy way out. I won't forget this, I promise."

"Monsieur Weasley, what did you mean when you said that Poppy is being arrested?" Lady Lenoir asked.

"I told the French Ministry everything," Ron replied, and Madame Maxime paled. "And then, I used my Media outlet to strong-arm them into submission."

"The Veela community-" Madame Maxime started.

"Will be just fine," Ron finished for her. "I don't plan to let Lady Abadie's greed ruin things for everyone. Instead, she will pay for her actions, and I'll let this go. The French Ministry doesn't want a scandal of this scale on their hands, and I will help them look competent and fair."

"What about her allies?" Emilia asked. "Are they being arrested as well?"

"No," Ron replied, and Emilia clicked her tongue. She doesn't approve. "It would've have been too much if I asked the French Ministry to arrest four prominent Families instead of one. Paul Durand, the French Head-Auror, still plans to bring them in for questioning, and he'll no doubt get a confession out of them. With their testimony, Lady Abadie and her husband will be in deep shit. Even if they don't see the inside of a prison cell just yet, they'll be facing the wrath of the Veela tribes of the mountains for getting them involved in this." At least that's what Roberta Berger told me. Either way, Poppy is fucked.

"May I speak with you?" Madame Maxime looked almost angry. "In private?"

"Sure," Ron replied, and then he looked to Lord and Lady Lenoir. "Can you please contact all of our old friends? Tell them what's happened, and then tell them to come here. I want to speak to them."

"Speak to them about what?" Lord Heroux asked, his eyes darting towards a shrinking Daphne.

"About how things will work from now on," Ron said before he left the Living Room. They can either support me, or they can help explain their actions to the rest of the World. I'm done playing nice with these pricks.

"What have you done, Ronald?" Madame Maxime demanded once they stepped out of the Living Room.

"I did what I had to do," Ron replied calmly. You think I'll be intimidated by your size? Bitch, I've had the Entity knock all of my teeth out… You'll never frighten me. "You, and our 'allies', let me no choice. You might have defended me, but that doesn't change the fact that the rest of them sold me out. It doesn't change the fact that you wanted me to take the fall."

"The French Ministry is looking for reasons to monitor the Veela community," Madame Maxime said. "You've given them the excuse they need, Ronald."

"That's a French problem," Ron said. "It has nothing to do with me, but truth be told, I think the Veela community should be monitored. From what I've seen of it so far, it is clearly out of control. I mean, I just met Barty Crouch's French counterpart, and she is at least thirty years younger than him. How do you think she got her position?"

"That is not the point," Madame Maxime argued.

"Yeah, it is," Ron said defiantly. "Corban Yaxley wasn't wrong to fear the Veela community, because logically speaking, they have a track record of abusing their power over others. I mean, I can't even step into Beauxbatons without the younger Veelas trying to turn my brain into mush."

"They can't help that," Madame Maxime frowned.

"So what? We're just supposed to let them do whatever they want?" Ron asked. "You are asking everyone to excuse their behavior, but at the same time, you're doing nothing to keep them in check. That is not how equality works. I want to help the Veela community, but I won't let them run rampant on others. I very recently learned what happens when you let your beliefs blind you, and I don't plan to repeat that mistake. Don't forget why I brought the French to England. You will help the Order, and you'll stay the fuck away from our politics. This is not a democracy anymore. If you have a problem with that, take it up with Dumbledore, but I assure you, he'll agree with me."

Ron then fixed his tied into place, and he drew in a deep breath in order to calm himself down.

"What's more important to you, Madame Maxime? Defeating the Dark Lord, or making sure that your Veela friends hold you in high regard?" Ron asked.

Madame Maxime said nothing, and after a few moments of silence, she walked back into the Living Room with a deep frown. Yeah, fuck you too. Veela this, Veela that… Honestly, I think she just wants to have her cake, and eat it too. Ron followed her inside, and then he took a seat next to Daphne. Lord and Lady Lenoir were no longer in the Living Room, and Ron figured that they had left to collect their old allies.

"Has Daphne discussed her business plans with all of you?" Ron asked pleasantly, but all he got were stares. What? You didn't expect me to fight back?

"She has," Emilia broke the silence, her day was certainly more entertaining than she had originally planned. "Personally, I'm already on board. She has agreed to take care of the paperwork, which saves me a lot of hassle, and my business gets to expand." I need to ask her for that favor soon. I can't let the Abadies talk about the Order while they're incarcerated. Emilia will need to figure out a way to get rid of them while they're trapped in the Ministry dungeons.

"We are also hoping that her Family in Germany reaches out to her soon," Lady Heroux said, her eyes fixed on Ron.

Ron shot a look at Daphne, and he noticed a hint of pride flash across her face. Good on you, Daph. You didn't even need me here.

"The Lenoirs have also expressed interest in letting her expand their business," Lord Heroux added. "Though I will warn you, Lady Greengrass, a lot of work will go into this."

"I'm willing, and able," Daphne said confidently. "I am only asking for a chance, my Lord."

"We'd be fools to refuse…" Lord Heroux said with a smile, though his eyes darted nervously towards Ron. What the fuck are you looking at, bitch?

---

Thirty Minutes Later

"What of our daughter?!" Eretria Couture bellowed, her face contorting in rage.

Ron, and his allies, were currently discussing what Ron had just done, but truth be told, Ron just wanted to leave for Paris with Daphne already. I feel rather guilty for sending her out while we discussed our business, but it was clear that the French don't fully trust her. I mean, they don't even know her, so it's to be expected, but still… I wish she was in here with me.

"Your daughter will be brought here shortly," Ron said calmly, and Eretria Couture lost some of her outrage. "I spoke with Head-Auror Paul Durand, and he agreed to have his men drop her off once they locate her. Currently, she could be hiding in one of your many homes, so it's taking a little time."

"And she won't be charged with anything?" Lord Couture asked, he looked more desperate than angry.

"Not a single thing," Ron promised. "You two stood by me while Lady Abadie sprung her plot, and for that, I am truly grateful. You will find that I reward loyalty, which is why Christina, a traitor, is being pardoned of all of her crimes. She'll be in your care before long, and I suggest that you teach her some manners. Oh, and remind her that just because she's used to getting whatever she wants doesn't mean that she is untouchable. You make sure that you explain to her that she got lucky this time."

Lord and Lady Couture exchanged slow looks, and then, they both sat back down. Ron turned his attention to his other 'allies', making sure to put on a mask of civility.

"I know that many of you decided to turn me over as the culprit," Ron started, and they looked less than pleased with their actions. "But despite your betrayal, I understand your actions… You wanted to protect yourselves, and others like you, from persecution. Lady Abadie's greed was threatening to poison the well, and I am nothing more than a foreigner to you." Ron then looked to Madame Maxime. "I hope that you all remember this day from now on. I could've done all you a lot of harm, but instead, I protected you once again."

"What of the Ancars?" Lord Bisset asked. "The Donadieus? The Beaumonts?"

"Will they be imprisoned?" Madam Delacour asked, she and her husband had been away on vacation before this meeting.

"No, but they will be questioned," Ron replied. "They'll be offered some sort of deal, I assume, and once they testify against Lady Abadie and her husband, they'll be set free."

"What happens to them after that?" Lord Beaufort asked his fellow countrymen. "We can't just let them get away with this."

"You will," Ron cut in. "We will invite them back with open arms, and we'll forgive them." And we'll watch them very carefully.

"What?" Emilia asked with a deadpan look. "I'm not in the habit of working with backstabbers." Those backstabbers know about the Order, and unless you can kill them all, I suggest that you deal with it.

"You will do as I say," Ron lost the last shred of pleasantness in his voice. "You will all do as I say. Don't forget that I can still ruin all of you very easily."

"Ronald…" Madame Maxime started, but Ron just gave her a bored look.

"Don't expect me to be pleasant, not after what just happened," Ron said. "I have decided to look past their actions, but that doesn't mean that I'll forget them." Ron then looked back to the Families. "I brought you all to England to do some good, and many of you agreed because you are clearly good people. But then, when things got rough, most of you decided to turn your backs on me. You've shown me that I can't completely trust you, so don't take offence from my tone. Not after all the pardons I've handed out today."

Ron then drew in a calming breath, and then he gave them all a meaningful look.

"Going forward, I want to see some loyalty from the people in this room," Ron said. "I want to help the Veela community, because if I didn't, I'd have sold you all out like you did me. Together, we can actually do a lot of good for France and Britain, but only if we're united."

"What of Corban Yaxley?" Lord Heroux asked.

"He thinks that he's won," Ron replied. "And sure, his legislation isolates Magical Britain from the rest of the World, but we can still work together. We'll just have to stay hidden for a while, just until we can go head to head with the likes of Corban Yaxley once again. Right now, the French and British Ministries are working together on a big project, and once they reveal said project, Madame Maxime and I will need your support. Can we count on you?"

Before anyone could answer, the sound of scandalized yelling interrupted their discussion. It was coming from outside, and Ron's first thought was to run outside to check up on Daphne. But before he could move, the door to the Living Room burst open, and two strong women dragged an outraged Christina Couture inside.

"Libérez-moi, vous les chiens," Christina screamed, her beautiful face was as red as a tomato. Well, hello there.

"Christina!" Lady Couture all but ran to her daughter, and her husband quickly followed.

"Where did you find her?" Ron asked the Aurors, while Christina's rage was overtaken by genuine confusion.

"In Paris," one of the Aurors replied before tossing Christina to her parents, and then, they both left without another word. Friendly bunch, eh?

Lord and Lady Couture quickly held onto their daughter, clearly afraid that she'd disappear if they let go of her. Christina, however, was trying to shove them away from her, but when her eyes landed on Ron, her outrage returned in force.

"YOU!" Christina shrieked, her features becoming bird-like.

With monstrous strength, she shoved her parents away harshly before charging at Ron. Ron went to step back, but Emilia rushed past him with her hands on the hilt of her sword. Christina all but ran into the blunt end of Emilia's Blade, the wind being knocked out of her rather unceremoniously. Bloody hell! Why is Emilia Travers so fucking fast?! Christina keeled over as she coughed violently, her beauty returning slowly.

"Don't hurt her, you brigand!" Lord Couture threw himself in-between Emilia and his daughter, while Lady Couture dragged herself to her daughter's side.

"She'll be fine," Emilia said coldly. "I only winded her." Should've let her come to me, I was going to punch her in the head with Cutis Terra in effect. That probably would have killed her, though.

"You two ought to take your daughter back home," Ron said. "Keep your eyes on her, or I'll do it for you."

"She's young, that's all," Lady Couture fixed Christina's hair into place, all the while holding her wheezing form. "She was tricked…" Wow, now I know why she's such a bitch. You've spoiled her ever since she was born, haven't you?

"I… was… not… tricked…" Christina coughed, and then she looked at Ron through teary eyes. "Foreign filth!"

"Foolish tart," Ron grinned widely, and then he looked to Lord Couture. "Take her, and don't forget my act of kindness. I won't be so forgiving the next time she does something like this."

"Of course," Lord Couture quickly gathered up his wife and daughter.

"He's not one of us!" Christina screamed, her eyes fixed on Ron. "You're all traitors! We women could rule the Wizarding World!"

"Stop it," Lord Couture urged as he dragged Christina away.

"Don't touch me!" Christina screamed petulantly. "Lady Abadie will end you for this, Weasley! You disgusting piece of filth! Go back to your flea-ridden country!"

"You should've hit her harder," Ron whispered to Emilia, and she nodded her agreement. "I need to speak with you alone before I leave."

"Understood," Emilia whispered, everyone was just staring at Christina being dragged away. Now, where was I?

---

Emilia Travers' POV

Thursday 24th December, 1993 (Lenoir Abode – Midday)

She could barely hold back her smirk; it felt good to see the Veelas so rattled. It was no secret that they were beyond arrogant, and despite being a woman, Emilia understood why. Every Veela she had seen was beyond beautiful. But with that beauty came arrogance and greed, and no Veela was immune from it. Even the best of them often used their beauty as a weapon, and although there was nothing wrong with that, the fact that they enjoyed dominating others annoyed Emilia. They can never have enough, can they? It's not in their nature.

"There you are," came Ron's voice, and Emilia turned to face him. "Why are you standing outside?"

"Too many people inside," Emilia shrugged. "Did anyone see you come outside?"

"Nope," Ron walked up to her side, his eyes examining the grounds. "I told them that I needed to use the loo, and once I got away from them, I used the Disillusionment Charm to sneak out." That's a N. E. W. T. Spell. Very nice.

"Well, what did you want to discuss with me?" Emilia asked him.

"I understand that you have 'shady' friends," Ron whispered, and Emilia cocked an eyebrow. "I need you to kill Lord and Lady Abadie while they're in the French Ministry dungeons."

"What?" Emilia blinked, she hadn't seen that coming.

"They know about the Order, and something tells me that they'll run their mouths if they see no way out," Ron replied, and Emilia found herself agreeing with him.

"It won't be easy," Emilia said. "Those dungeons are guarded well."

"But not as well as the French prison," Ron said. "Do the French have a prison?"

"La Fosse," Emilia replied. "It's a pit, and no one knows where it is. Only the Ministry, and a special unit from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement know of its location."

"That's pretty awesome," Ron looked awed, and Emilia rolled her eyes. He might be a demon, but he's a thirteen-year-old demon. "Anyway… If they get sent to 'La Fosse', we'll lose the chance to silence them. I need you to do whatever it takes to off them."

"You realize how cold you sound, don't you?" Emilia asked, and Ron gave her a confused look. "I know that I'm not exactly a mentally stable individual, but even I don't talk about murder like its afternoon tea."

"Trust me, you have no idea how cold I can be," Ron's expression darkened, and Emilia quickly felt wary. Please don't use that voice, I need my sleep. "Just kill them, alright? Use poison, Imperius some poor bastard, do whatever it takes. I want them dead as quickly as possible."

"Consider it done," Emilia gave a curt nod; she too wanted the Abadies gone. "We should also kill their son."

"Son?" Ron cocked an eyebrow.

"He's eighteen, and he's currently traveling around Australia," Emilia said. "I've been collecting information on the traitors, you see."

"Does this son know of his parents' crimes?" Ron asked.

"Probably not," Emilia replied. "He hasn't been home since he graduated from Beauxbatons."

"Then he doesn't deserve to die," Ron said, and Emilia frowned a little. "He's innocent, Emilia, so don't lay a finger on him."

"You think he'll let you murder his parents and get away with it?" Emilia asked. "Don't be a fool."

"But I didn't murder them," Ron said innocently. "They were silenced by their own Ministry… Or, just maybe, the Veela tribes of the mountains killed the Abadies for involving them in a failed bid for power. Or maybe, some angered lover of Lady Abadie had them killed. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

"They have a lot of enemies," Emilia said.

"Exactly," Ron smiled widely. "Who knows what really happened?"

"You've thought this through, I see," Emilia stated. "Good, I hate working with idiots. I'll start organizing this as soon as I get home. It might take a couple of days, but I can arrange for someone to poison their meals."

"Please don't get caught," Ron said, and then he left just as quickly.

Emilia looked back to the grounds, she couldn't deny that she was impressed by her ally's efficiency. In just one day, he had thrown the rulebook out of the window and ruined whatever scheme Lady Abadie had been cooking. And now, she'll be dead before long. The French will no doubt suspect Ron, but there won't be any proof tying him to her murder. She, after all, spent her entire life making enemies because of her need to put herself above others. You live by the sword, and you die by the sword. If only the Abadies understood that… Oh, well, I won't mourn their loss. Two less greed-ridden dogs to put down.

---

Molly Weasley's POV

Thursday 24th December, 1993 (The Burrow – Past Midday)

Ron had outdone himself this time. Even after two years of defiant behavior, he had still managed to surprise her. Only this time, he had dragged poor Daphne into his maniacal need to ignore the wishes of his elders.

"I'm going to France," Sebastian kept pacing.

"And do what?" Sirius asked. "They could be anywhere right now."

"I don't care," Sebastian came to an abrupt stop. "They're children! Why didn't you stop them?" Is he talking to me?

Molly realized that she could say very little right now, especially because Sebastian was right. She should've stopped them, but Ron's deranged appearance had startled her into uselessness.

"He was in a rush, and we couldn't even figure out what to do," Xeno spoke for Molly. "Sebastian… He was gone just as quickly as he arrived."

"And Daphne willingly went with him?" Mary asked, and when Xeno gave her a nod, she rubbed her face tiredly. "Merlin… What's gotten into her lately? First she fights with her father, and then she runs off."

"It's his influence," Sebastian began pacing again, and Molly cringed a bit. "He's convinced her that doing whatever you please gets you results."

"Don't just pin the blame on the kid," Sirius frowned. "From what I've heard, he didn't twist her arm. He gave her a choice, and she made it."

"That's true…" Molly spoke up. "He didn't force her to join him…"

"Sebastian, just take a seat," James said. "You're taking this a little too personally."

"Is your daughter currently missing in France?" Sebastian frowned deeply.

"No, but if he had offered her the same choice, she would've joined him," James shrugged.

"And that is a point of pride for you?" Sebastian asked.

"They're kids," James argued. "I remember doing some really stupid shit when I was their age."

"Just wait for them to come back, and then scold them," Susana said. "Tell them why they were wrong to leave." I don't think Ron will care much for anyone's opinions.

"Have you actually spoken to Ronald Weasley?" Mary asked them, and they shook their heads. "He's not one to listen to others, especially people that disagree with him."

"He's fired the next time I see him," Sebastian hissed.

"Husband, calm down," Mary said. "You're not helping anyone."

The fireplace roared to life, and Molly immediately stood up. Ron? Sadly for her, it was only Kirsten and Charlie. They had returned from their day at the British Dragon Reserve, and judging by their happy faces, they'd had a good day.

"Oh, hello," Kirsten greeted the adults, while Charlie looked for Molly.

"Mum, there you are," Charlie's smile widened. "Are you ready to head out for your massage?"

"Pardon?" Molly blinked.

"The massage," Charlie said slowly. "You know, the one Ron set up for you? We talked about it this morning, and I promised to take you with me. The streets really aren't safe these days." Oh, that massage. The one Ronnie bribed a person for. My son bribes people… What happened, Molly? When did you fail at being a mother?

Molly sat back down with a distant look, much to Charlie and Kirsten's confusion.

"Mrs. Weasley?" Kirsten began reading the room.

"I'm not going to a massage… I'll just wait here for Ron to come home," Molly said, and Sebastian began pacing again.

---

Daphne Greengrass' POV

Thursday 24th December, 1993 (Magical Paris – Afternoon)

"It's sweeter than I thought it would be," Ron said, they were currently sharing a Café Liégeois.

"You don't like it?" Daphne asked, though she knew that he did. I mean he ate most of it, not that I'm bothered.

"I love it," Ron smiled in a smitten manner, and Daphne felt her stomach float. He's so damn cute! I just want to pinch his face! "Though, this is a secret between us. Madam Roberts can never find out."

"My lips are sealed," Daphne giggled. "What do you want to do next?"

"I leave that up to you," Ron finished up the dessert. "I mean, you're the fancy Lady who can speak French."

"Ordering in French wasn't that weird, Ron," Daphne quickly defended herself, but he just sniggered to himself. "Hmph… Whatever. I want to go look at clothes."

"Uh-oh," Ron lost his amusement, and Daphne smirked.

"It'll be fun, Ron," Daphne turned the tables. "I mean, I don't plan to buy anything, but I can always remember if I like something. Plus, you get to have a show."

"I know what that show entails now…" Ron gave a deadpan look. "A lot of waiting."

"It'll give us time to talk," Daphne shrugged.

"How? You'll be changing clothes," Ron said.

"Before we get there, genius," Daphne said, and Ron eyed her with suspicion. "Let's just go!"

"Fine…" Ron rolled his eyes, though there was a smile on his face. He's enjoying himself, even if it just means waiting around for me.

They made their way out of the Café, and once Daphne had his gloved hand in her, she began leading him towards the clothing stores. The heart of Magical Paris was quite similar to Diagon Alley, with the only major difference being that there was no 'Rape Alley' attached to the heart of Magical Paris. Tracey says the grossest things, sometimes.

"Look, Daph!" Ron pointed. "Jugglers!"

Daphne followed his gaze, and she saw a group of men juggling balls made up of blue, white, and red flames. Wow, how are they not getting burned?

"This was a good idea," Daphne beamed, and Ron kissed her cheek. "Thanks for getting me before you left, Ron. It really did save me a lot of trouble."

"Don't worry about it," Ron shrugged with a smile. "I'm glad you sorted out everything, and I'm proud that you managed to rope in the Lenoirs as well."

"I was pretty great, wasn't I?!" Daphne squealed, her excitement taking over her common sense for a moment. Relax! Don't show him how excited you are!

"What was that?" Ron laughed, and Daphne looked dead ahead.

"Nothing," Daphne composed herself.

"It was pretty cute," Ron teased, and then he poked her side. That tickles!

"Ron, don't poke me! I just ate!" Daphne felt a little flustered, and Ron gave her a confused look. Ugh… Boys! Can't he tell that my stomach isn't flat right now?

"Weird thing to say, but whatever," Ron chuckled. "But like I was saying, good on you, Daph. I'm sure your parents will be blown away by this."

Daphne's stomach dropped immediately, and she stopped walking.

"My parents are going to kill me," Daphne remembered, and Ron just stared at her. "Ron, what are we going to do?!"

"We have a fun date, and then, we go home," Ron shrugged. "Can't change what's already happened, so what's the point in worrying about it?"

"My father will be there, Ron," Daphne said. "You're not scared of his reaction to my rebellious actions?"

"Do I look like I'm scared of your father?" Ron asked, a hint of coldness seeping into his voice.

Daphne let go of his hand, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Ron, you can't fight him," Daphne frowned a little. "He's my father."

"Who said anything about fighting?" Ron lost his coldness. Great, now he looks confused. "I'll simply take the blame for this, that's all. He can yell his heart out at me, and you can save yourself."

"I can't let you do that," Daphne didn't like that idea one bit. "I chose to come, Ron, so it's not fair for you to take the hit."

"Okay…" Ron said slowly.

"I'll take equal blame," Daphne decided, and Ron blinked. "Yeah, that's what I'll do. I'm my own person!"

Resolve flowed through her veins, and she puffed up her chest. I'm Daphne Greengrass! And I'm not a little girl anymore! I just fixed my business deals, and I got an extra one to boot! I can take care of myself!

"Girls…" Ron muttered under his breath, but Daphne was too busy hyping herself up to hear him. "Daphne? Is anyone home?"

"I'm not scared of my father," Daphne told herself, and Ron began laughing.

"Giving yourself a pep-talk?" Ron asked, and Daphne gave a firm nod. They let Astoria get away with worse! At least I rebelled in order to further our Family Name in the World! "Let me know when you finish, yeah?"

"I'm done," Daphne drew in a deep breath, copying Ron's calming technique. "I'm not scared of them, and I did what I did because I had to. I had to fix this on my own."

"Fix this on your own?" Ron asked. "Daph, did your father try to take over once everything went sour?"

"Yes," Daphne huffed in indignation. "The moment he learned about the legislation, he turned into a control freak. Non-stop orders masked as 'advice', and he even told me that he'd talk to my business partners himself! Can you believe that?!"

"He probably got a little too riled up," Ron said.

"He has no right to cut me out of my own deals," Daphne told Ron, and herself. "Caring about my success is one thing, but not listening to me is something else entirely."

"Exactly," Ron nodded his agreement. "You won't learn until you try, right?"

"Right," Daphne said, and then she took his gloved hand. "Wow… I feel better…"

"The pep-talk worked?" Ron sniggered.

"It did," Daphne gave him a light shove. "Don't make fun of me, or I won't kiss you."

"Sorry," Ron replied immediately, his voice dead serious.

"That's what I thought," Daphne smirked; the ball in her stomach was lighter now. "By the way… Do you really think that your plan worked?"

"Oh, it worked," Ron grinned. "I aired all the dirty laundry, and the French knew that they had shat their undergarments."

"Colorful as always, handsome," Daphne grimaced.

"You should've seen the look on Minister Wallace's face," Ron laughed. "The man aged a hundred years on the spot. Oh, and his Head-Auror, Paul Durand, clearly doesn't like the Veela community much. I intend to find out why, of course, but for now, I'm happy that I met someone who wanted to stick it to the Veelas. He all but jumped at the chance to arrest Lord and Lady Abadie."

"They did return that Christina Couture girl," Daphne nodded to herself. "She was vile. The things she was saying… Disgusting."

"Oh, you heard her?" Ron asked, and Daphne gave him a nod. I wanted to slap her so bad. Talk about giving the rest of us women a bad name… "Well, I had half a mind to have her sent to prison, but then I decided against it. The French were struggling to come to terms with my original demands, so I had to improvise. Plus, this way, the Coutures get their daughter back. Such as she is."

"Returning her was the right call," Daphne said. "They'll remember that, despite their actions, you didn't stoop to their level. You could've easily turned the whole thing on them, but you gave them another chance." Personally, I would've waited until the Quibbler was up, and then, exposed the Veela community out of the blue.

"Stooping to their level was never a choice, truth be told," Ron admitted. "As angry as I was, I couldn't bring myself to blame all Veelas for the actions of the few. It just didn't sit right with me." Then you're a better person than me. I would've made them pay with everything. "Though I won't lie, it did feel good to scare the shit out of everyone."

"The Quibbler keeps paying off," Daphne smiled at him.

"Yeah," Ron nodded. "When I first bought it, I really didn't know just how useful it would be. But thanks to the Daily Prophet's monopoly on Media, the Quibbler is my most useful asset." Ron then beamed at something. "I see a clothes store right over there!" Which one?!

"Oh! The Fairy's Island!" Daphne felt her face split into a smile. "They have amazing clothes! C'mon, Ron!"

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Thursday 24th December, 1993 (Magical Paris – Late Afternoon)

Merlin, he felt so relaxed right now. It was as if the entire World's weight had been removed from his shoulders. All the stress and anger he had felt over the last few days was beginning to leave him, and Ron couldn't be happier. I'm no doubt going to be swarmed once I get home, but you know what? I don't care. Moping around at home wasn't helping me, and being blamed by everyone wasn't helping me either.

"Do you want that one?" Ron asked Daphne, who was currently eyeballing a red dress.

"I'm just trying to remember the order number," Daphne told him. "I'll order it once I'm home."

"Think of this as my Christmas gift to you," Ron said as he picked up the dress.

"Ron, I was still looking," Daphne pouted, and then, she realized what he had said. "Don't buy it for me."

"Why?" Ron asked. "It's only fifty-six Galleons, and I can afford that."

"But we promised each other that we wouldn't get Christmas presents," Daphne reminded him.

"Really? So you didn't get me anything?" Ron asked, and Daphne shook her head. "Really?"

"No," Daphne lied.

"Lies," Ron whispered.

"Fine! But I'm not facing financial issues," Daphne confessed, and Ron clicked his tongue.

"Neither am I," Ron told her. "You realize that your father pays me, right? I can afford to buy one gift. Plus, all my needs are met at Hogwarts. C'mon, Daph… You really like this dress, and it looks great on you. Let me get it for you."

Daphne looked at the dress, she was clearly thinking about his offer. One more push.

"You can wear it tomorrow," Ron shook the dress playfully. "I can put on a nice suit with a red tie, and we can dance. Maybe find ourselves under some mistletoe?"

"Oh…" Daphne's face pinched, and then she let out a sigh. "Okay… You're being sweet, and I'm thinking about numbers…"

"Yes, and you shouldn't talk about money when happiness is in question," Ron began to walk over to the counter.

"I know… Money doesn't buy happiness…" Daphne followed him.

"What?" Ron shot a look back. "Money buys happiness, Daph, and whoever says that it doesn't clearly hasn't been poor. What I meant was that you ought to let your amazing boyfriend buy you a Christmas present."

"Okay," Daphne began to smile. "Thank you, my amazing boyfriend."

"You're welcome," Ron smiled back, and then he walked over to the counter.

"You two are very cute," the old witch behind the counter giggled. Eavesdropper!

"You speak English really well," Ron noticed.

"I ought to, I'm from Britain," the old witch said. "Now, pass that dress over, and I'll pack it for you."

Ron handed the dress over, and while the witch was packing it away, Ron pulled out his Gringotts pouch. Once the payment had been made, the witch handed Ron the box.

"Hope you two enjoy your Christmas together," the witch waved them off.

"Same to you," Daphne waved back, and they both left the shop. "Thank you, Ron. I'll definitely wear it tomorrow."

"No worries," Ron kissed her cheek. So soft! And she smells great! "So… You got me a present, eh?"

Daphne averted her gaze quickly, and pretended like he wasn't there.

"What did you get me?" Ron pestered. "Tell me. Tell me. Tell me. Tell moi!"

"You can't just use a French word after using an English one," Daphne said in a surprised voice.

"Sure I can," Ron said. "I don't know the word for 'tell' yet, and it's because my tutor is really bad at her job."

"How dare you?" Daphne puffed up. "I'm bad? How utterly absurd."

"Don't act so upset," Ron sniggered. "It won't distract me. I know you're trying to change the topic."

Daphne tensed, and then she let out a whine.

"I can't tell you, Ron," Daphne all but pleaded. "The others would be so annoyed with me."

"The others?" Ron grinned. "A gift that everyone pitched in for? Really?"

"No!" Daphne blocked her mouth.

"Fine… I'll leave you be," Ron decided to stop teasing her. "Be grateful for my mercy, woman." Seriously though, what did they get me? Also, why did they all have to pitch in? I'm so curious now.

"Yes, thank you," Daphne hung her head, how could she spill half the secret?

"Want to head back to the French Ministry?" Ron asked. "I'd rather bring you home before dark."

"I suppose," Daphne 'sighed' dramatically.

"C'mon, we've had our fun," Ron took her hand, and she smiled widely.

"It was indeed fun, Ron," she said. "Really fun. Thank you for planning a date, even during all of this. It was really thoughtful of you. I love you."

"I figured that we could both use a break," Ron shrugged, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. Why did she have to sound so sappy just then? Teasing is more fun.

"You won't say it back?" Daphne feigned hurt.

"I… I love you…" Ron muttered, his eyes darting around them. If anyone heard that… Mind your own fucking business, mate!

"Still so cute," Daphne began giggling.

"I'm not cute…" Ron eyeballed her. "I'm handsome, but in a rugged, tragedy-ridden hero sort of way."

"Uh-huh," Daphne nodded along.

"Don't 'Uh-huh' me," Ron huffed. "Say that I'm a handsomely tragic hero!"

"Sure, you are," Daphne started laughing. Betrayed…

---

Ten Minutes Later

"We got them both," Paul Durand said, he had been waiting for Ron at the French Ministry.

"You did?" Ron smiled widely. "Great news."

"Oh, it is," Durand smirked. "Lord Abadie resisted arrest, and one of my Aurors gave him a bloody lip. Fantastic news." Okay, then…

"Isn't that Auror brutality?" Daphne cocked an eyebrow.

"It is," Durand shrugged calmly. "But if he didn't want a bloodied lip, he shouldn't have resisted."

"You don't like Veelas very much, do you?" Ron asked. "I mean, you've been a bit too helpful to me…"

"I was just doing my job," Durand said. "That's all." Horse-shite! You had one of your men punch Lord Abadie, I know it.

"May I see Lady Abadie?" Ron asked, and Durand just stared at him.

"Ron, is that wise?" Daphne whispered. "This woman has history with you, and it could ruin the case against her."

"I'm the Diplomat to the French, so I would only be dropping by just to make sure that she doesn't plan to do more damage," Ron said to Durand. "Nothing illegal about that, right?"

"I suppose," Durand said, and then he gestured them to follow. "They're in our interrogation rooms right now, and neither of them are talking." Good, I need them to stay quiet until Emilia can get rid of them.

"Where did you find them?" Ron asked.

"In their Manor," Durand replied. "Some of their Elves tried to warn them off, but we had sealed away all the exits by then. Trust me, when I told them of what they were being charged with, they looked truly ignorant of their crimes. These two know how to act innocent."

"What's your history with them?" Daphne asked. "I mean, you sound very… biased… against them. Not trying to pry, of course, just curious."

"Let's just say that I bled, and lost friends, throughout an entire war, and at the end of it, they gave my promised job to a woman who was half my age," Durand replied. "In the French Ministry, it's not about what you're capable of, it's about your heritage. Or rather, your gender… Either way, I was the Head-Auror who led the war effort, and a girl with no experience became my boss at the end of it. She's currently in Albania, being completely useless to the Gaia Project." Yeesh. This Ministry is just as bad as our own, if not worse.

Once they reached the interrogation rooms, Durand signaled his Aurors to take a break. Ron decided that he only needed to speak with Lady Abadie, just to see her one last time. I'll be nothing but supportive, and understanding. That ought to piss her off.

"She's in room one, and he's in room three," Durand said. "You have five minutes. I'm going to go get Roberta, and once she's here, she'll take you to your Portkey."

Durand left at that, and Ron handed Daphne her dress box.

"Be careful," Daphne said, though she wished that Ron wouldn't speak to Lady Abadie.

"I'll be right back," Ron gave her a comforting smile, and then he entered room one.

The interrogation room was quite tiny, and black. Very black. Even the chairs are bloody black.

"You?" Lady Abadie blinked at him, and Ron smiled warmly.

"Lady Abadie," Ron took a seat in front of her. "They haven't mistreated you, have they? I heard they punched your husband in the face."

"What?" Lady Abadie snarled.

"He's fine," Ron held back a laugh. Don't push her, Ron. Behave. "They've healed him up."

"What is this?" Lady Abadie glared at him. "What have you done, boy?"

"Nothing," Ron lied. "I simply did my job."

"Your job?!" Lady Abadie snapped. "They tore me away from my bed!" Hahahaha!

Ron grinned for a second, but he quickly fixed up his face.

"I'm sorry… to hear that…" Ron drew in a wheeze. "Sorry. I'll be serious from now on. Ahem! Okay, I'm good. Please, go on."

"You little bastard…" Lady Abadie shook with rage. "I don't know what you did, but you'll pay for it dearly."

"I told the French Ministry the truth," Ron said. "As was my duty. You, after all, threatened my Ministry, didn't you? What choice did I have?"

"And they're dancing to your tune?" Lady Abadie looked a little jarred. "How? Why?!"

"Because I have something that you don't," Ron whispered. "I have a news magazine."

Lady Abadie blinked at him, and then she frowned deeply.

"That Quibbler nonsense?" she scoffed. "That's your leverage?"

"Not leverage," Ron looked around innocently. "There's no leverage here… Just people doing their jobs."

"Stop playing games!" Lady Abadie ordered. "Answer me!"

"You left before we all had a chat with Corban Yaxley…" Ron pulled a face. "Turns out, he was having you followed… Does Ludo Bagman ring a bell?"

"Ludovic?" Lady Abadie lost some of her rage.

"Yeah, the Pure-Bloods had so much dirt on you," Ron tutted. "They used said dirt to obliterate me, because let's face it, you left us in a really terrible position. Anyway, I decided that the French deserved to know what their own were plotting. So, in an act of public service, I aired everyone's dirty laundry. That, and my magazine, is more than enough to do the French Ministry a lot of damage."

"You are… really pathetic, aren't you?" Lady Abadie sneered, and Ron 'sniffled'. "You're using your enemy's weapon? That's how weak you are?"

"Yeah, it isn't really… honorable, but I don't care," Ron shrugged calmly. "I'm a Slytherin, and we value logic and rationale over sentimental tripe. Especially when the stakes are really high. You left us all no choice."

"You think this will work? Huh?" Lady Abadie hissed. "I have powerful friends! The Minister himself is my thrall!"

"You really are an idiot, aren't you?" Ron blinked. "You're sitting in an interrogation cell, and you're calling the French Minister a thrall? I mean, why are you so arrogant? What goes through your head?"

"Arrogant… A word used by those who are beneath me," Lady Abadie scoffed. "I've dealt with it all my life, and I always come out on top. Do you know why?"

"Because you're Veela?" Ron asked. "Yeah… That won't work with me, remember?"

"You're a man, and men are all fools," Lady Abadie looked disgusted.

"Your husband must be the World's biggest cuckold," Ron chuckled under his breath. "You're done, Lady Abadie. The French don't want the mess that you're bringing over to their table, and once they speak to the Veela tribes of the mountains, they'll also wash their hands of you."

"We'll see about that," Lady Abadie smirked coldly. No, we won't. I have a murderous bint on my side, and she plans to off you very soon. "I'll be out of here by the end of the week, boy. My friends-"

"Are also being questioned," Ron told her, and her mouth closed shut. "I even had Christina Couture handed over to her parents. So… Yeah… Don't count on them. I mean, the French Ministry isn't putting them away. They only want you. Just one prominent Family. I have done to you what you did to me, Lady Abadie. I've taken away your choices out of the blue, and it was all for the sake of the Veela community."

"This will not stand," she still maintained an air of arrogance. "I have friends outside of France, and they will cause disruptions on a national scale. I won't even be held for a trial." No, you really won't.

"Goodbye, Lady Abadie," Ron stood up, and then he left the room without another word. Rot in hell, bitch.

As Ron stepped out of the room, he came face-to-face with Durand and Berger. Um… Where is Daphne?

"Well?" Berger asked. "Did she give you anything?"

"She was rude, and that's about it," Ron replied.

"Her trial is going to be a nightmare," Durand told them. "She still has powerful friends, and they'll want her out of here as soon as word gets out."

"Some reporters have already been alerted by her House-Elves," Berger sighed out. "They're all outside even as we speak."

"You ought to tell the public of her crimes, and then take credit for stopping her," Ron said. "Get out in front of this before people make up their minds by themselves."

"The Minister has prepared a statement, and he'll be presenting it shortly," Berger told him. "Now, it's time for you to return home. We've done as you asked, and we expect you to keep your word."

"And I will," Ron promised. "But I won't be going home alone. You're coming with me, Miss. Berger."

"What?" Berger blinked, while Durand held back a laugh.

"You and I will speak with Mr. Crouch about what happened here," Ron said. "I don't fully know about the steps your Ministry took, and you will fill him in for me. Oh, and you'll tell him that I did spectacular job down here."

"You weren't exactly a Diplomat," Durand smirked.

"I tried to be, but people like Lady Abadie kept throwing hurdles in my way," Ron shrugged. "Trust me, all the stress they caused me has taken at least a year off of my life." And that isn't even a joke. "But now that everything is back to normal, we can start building on this."

"This?" Berger asked.

"Say what you will, but we make a good team," Ron stated. "It took us a day to ruin that woman's schemes."

"She's not down yet, slugger," Durand said. What the hell is a slugger?

"What is a 'slugger'?" Berger asked Durand.

"It's… Never mind," Durand waved a dismissive hand. "Let's get you to your Portkey, Mr. Weasley. Your girlfriend is becoming impatient."

---

One Hour Later

"And she's being held at the French Ministry?" Crouch asked, he was awfully stoic about the whole thing.

"Yes," Berger replied. "Her husband is also being held by the Aurors. Their son will be contacted as soon as we can determine his location, and hopefully, this will all be behind us before the Triwizard Tournament."

Crouch frowned deeply at Berger, and then he looked to Ron. Oh, I know already.

"I'm already aware about the Tournament, Sir," Ron said, and Crouch looked ready to slam his own head on the table.

"Of course," Crouch shook his head, and then he stared at Berger. "Thank you, Miss. Berger. I appreciate you coming down here personally. It's not often that a person in our position takes their job seriously." What?! I fucking told her to come down here! Praise me!

"I felt it necessary, Mr. Crouch," Berger said respectfully, and Ron fought the urge to gape at her. "And again, I am sorry for my finger-pointing."

"All is well, so there is nothing to apologize for," Crouch stood up, and Berger followed suit.

They shook hands firmly, and Berger left the Office with a smirk. This bitch… She got me good. Oh, well.

"Good work, Mr. Weasley," Crouch sat back down, his eyes fixed on Ron's. "A little too… showy… for my tastes, but it clearly worked. Even if Lord and Lady Abadie win their case, the French Ministry will have turned the public against them by then. Just one thing, though… Why didn't you tell me about Lady Abadie's bid to conquer our Ministry?" Oh, fuck… "Or about the Veela tribes of the mountains?"

"Well… I didn't want to make things worse for myself," Ron all but whispered, and Crouch just stared through him. "I still hadn't learned my lesson, but I have now, Sir. It's why I asked Roberta Berger to come here. I wanted her to tell you everything personally. Plus, when you were questioning me, Corban Yaxley was still trying to start something. If I had confessed, things would have spiraled out of control."

"I figured as much," Crouch looked to the door. "Why else would she waste her time coming down to do her damn job?" He's so damn bitter; he makes my Nutrition Potion look sweet. "Well, good job, Mr. Weasley. You have earned the right to keep your position. For now."

"Thank you," Ron said gratefully. "And I promise to work with you from now on."

"Work for me," Crouch corrected.

"That's what I said," Ron lied, and Crouch drew in a deep breath. Don't piss him off, Ron. Behave.

"Who told you about the Tournament?" Crouch asked.

"Madame Maxime," Ron replied. "I've known about it for a while, but I haven't told anyone. She said that it was sensitive information."

"It is," Crouch said. "It's good that you already know about it, actually."

"It is?"

"Of course," Crouch said. "The French will be competing, won't they? And since you're our Diplomat to them, you'll be helping me plan the thing." Oh…

---

Ten Minutes Later

"Finally," Daphne smiled at him as he approached. "I was starting to get worried, Ron."

"Did you miss me that much?" Ron smirked, and then he got serious. "Why didn't you go home, Daph? I was in that Office for ages."

"I'm not going back alone," Daphne looked at him like he was an idiot. "Ron, we ran away together, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Ron grimaced. "Your father is no doubt waiting by the fireplace."

"You're going through first," Daphne said bluntly.

"I thought you weren't scared of your father," Ron said. "Remember your pep-talk?"

"That was then, but right now, I'm starting to panic," Daphne told him. "He's going to be furious with me, Ron."

"I'll go first, then," Ron sighed. My parents will also be waiting for me. Time to deal with that headache.

---

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I hope that was good for you guys!

My life has turned into a dumpster fire, and I'm literally going to lose my apartment at this rate. Life sucks. It is a trap created by God for his own amusement. Abandon all hope.

Now that I got that out of my system, I am aware that I have been late by a day or two for a while now. Truth be told, writing these chapters is not an easy task. It takes a toll. I'm basically writing a Thesis every five days, and I've been doing it for over a year now.

So, I won't be announcing the date for the next one. It'll be out when it's finished. I'm sorry if that bothers some people, but please... I'm only human, and I'm really struggling with things in my life. So, yeah... Favorite the story, and you'll get an alert when I update. Or just check back every week or so to see if I've updated.

Take care.