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.

112. Chapter 112 - Cracks

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Chapter 112 is finished, and delivered!

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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'The human mind... Fragile... Like a Robin's egg' - The Ancestor from Darkest Dungeon

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Fate

Chapter 112 - Cracks

Amelia Bones' POV

Saturday 26th December, 1993 (The Headmaster's Office – Night)

She all but yanked herself out of the Pensieve, a terrifying shudder passing throughout her body.

The Dark Lord was still alive, and he had returned.

Amelia had seen the battle that had resulted in the Albania Inferno, she had witnessed the capture and torture of Severus Snape, and she had watched Dumbledore's assault on Malfoy Manor. It had been a terrible experience, and in the hope of proving it to be a fabrication, she had studied the memories in great detail. But nothing was out of place… These memories were not forged, and if they were, then Dumbledore and Snape had gone through great effort to fool her. But why would they want to fool me? What could they hope to gain from it? Nothing.

Amelia looked to Severus Snape, who simply stared back with an icy look. His injuries are proof enough… These memories weren't forged. He has returned to power, which means that another war is coming. For the first time in a long time, Amelia felt the cold touch of fear. Her very soul felt shaken to its core, and memories of funerals and loss bombarded her all at once. Not again… Gods above, anything but this…

"Amelia, we must-" Dumbledore started.

"Why?" Amelia cut him off, her voice almost bitter. "You…"

She stared at the Headmaster of Hogwarts; her anger with him could not be put into words. He was behind the Albania Inferno… He, who birthed the Gaia Project, was the reason why it was needed in the first place.

"You destroyed hundreds of lives…" Amelia glared at the old wizard. "You selfish, foolish old man…"

Dumbledore said nothing, which only served to agitate her further.

"Albus has made mistakes, but we don't have the time to-" Snape started coldly, but Dumbledore stopped him by raising his hand.

"Let her say what she has to say, Severus," Dumbledore said calmly.

"No," Snape refused, and both Amelia and Dumbledore turned their attention towards him. No? "I do not have the strength, or the patience, to listen to her tantrum."

"Tantrum?" Amelia nearly reached for her wand.

"The Dark Lord has returned," Snape said bluntly, and Amelia felt jarred once again. Gods help us all. "Albus and I have both faced him, and although he is still weak, he is not to be underestimated. What happened in Albania was regrettable, but Albus is not the only one who deserves to be blamed for it. The Ministry refused to listen to him at the end of the last war, and they foolishly declared that the Dark Lord had been vanquished. Albus, unlike you, has remained vigilant. If not for him, you would still be living in the dark."

"Why bring me here?" Amelia demanded. "Why show me the truth? Why not Cornelius?"

"You know why, Amelia," Dumbledore said. "You know the company he keeps. You know who he favors above all others."

"The Old Families," Amelia knew all too well. "Cornelius Fudge is the Minster for Magic, and although he is… corrupt, he will do his duty."

"Will he?" Snape asked. "Are you completely sure of that?"

Amelia said nothing, because truth be told, she wasn't completely sure that Cornelius Fudge would alert the public. He calls himself the 'Minister of peace', but this will put an end to that. The public will blame him for this in an effort to find a scapegoat, and he'd never let that happen. He'd lose his job within a week if this gets out.

"Why me?" Amelia asked. "You still haven't explained why I'm here."

"The Ministry is in danger," Dumbledore replied. "Lord Voldemort will use the Ministry's lack of awareness to his advantage, just as he did in the last war. We need people within the Ministry holding back the tide, and I can think of no one better. You run the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, you are respected even by your rivals, you have the loyalty of the Aurors, and you are a talented politician."

It didn't Amelia long to figure out where Dumbledore was going with all of this, and truth be told, she didn't want any part in his schemes. As much as she respected the man, she was perhaps one of the few people in Britain who understood just how meddlesome Dumbledore was.

"You want me to act as your agent within the Ministry?" Amelia asked, her voice short and somewhat hostile. "I can't believe this… Rufus was right. You don't have any respect for the Ministry-"

"When the Ministry does something respect worthy, we'll give it its dues," Snape mimicked her cold tone. "As it stands, your institute is rotten down to its bedrock. The Old Families control the Minister himself, and these very same Families are loyal followers of the Dark Lord. You might not like the idea of working from the shadows, but I assure you, the moment you step into the light, you and your Family are dead. Do you really want what's left of your clan joining your dead relatives in the afterlife?" No. Never.

"Severus," Dumbledore said. "There is no need to disrespect the dead."

Amelia stared at what was left of Severus Snape, and she found herself somewhat surprised by his brutal honesty. He's not like Dumbledore. He doesn't want to pull strings, but at the same time, his idea of what's needed isn't very different from the Headmaster's. Is this why Dumbledore had him spared from his sentence? Is this why Severus Snape, a former Death-Eater, is allowed to teach at Hogwarts?

"Taking this to the public…" Amelia started, she was finally beginning to regain her composure. "It will incite panic."

"Not only panic," Dumbledore said. "Many will call you a liar, while others will move to put the blame on the Ministry. But none of this will compare to the backlash that the British Ministry will suffer at the hands of the other Ministries. They were all led to believe that Lord Voldemort was destroyed, and sadly, I could not convince them otherwise. No one wants the war to return, and should anyone attempt to herald its return, they will be in grave danger."

"We need you to gather your most trusted," Snape said, he was beginning to look tired. After what I saw him go through, it's a miracle that he's even walking around. He… He resisted the Dark Lord himself. "Show them the memories in the Pensieve. It is vital that at least some of the Aurors are made aware of the situation at hand."

"For what purpose?" Amelia looked between the two wizards. "Are we going to overthrow the Minister, is that it? This…" she shook her head. "This is treason. Your secrecy is going to get a lot of people killed-"

"People die in wars," Snape said icily. "Spare us your righteous speech, Madam Bones. You completely understand why this needs to remain a secret for now, and prolonging this conversation is beginning to grate on my nerves. We have given you the tools you need to prepare yourself, do with them as you please."

Snape then stood up on shaky legs, and Dumbledore quickly moved to support him.

"I can stand on my own, Albus…" Snape stopped the old wizard. "I just… I need to rest."

"Fawkes will take you back," Dumbledore said, and the Phoenix flew off of his perch and landed on Snape's shoulder.

With a loud shrill, the Phoenix burst into bright orange flames, and Severus Snape was no longer amongst them.

"Forgive his curt behavior," Dumbledore said a little sadly. "He is in immense pain these days, and yet, he continues to refuse Pain-Relief Potions."

"What do you really want from me, Dumbledore?" Amelia asked. "Tell me the complete truth, or I'll walk."

"Cornelius cannot be the one to lead the Ministry in the coming war," Dumbledore said far too calmly.

"A coup?" Amelia hissed, this stood against everything that she believed in. "I took a sacred oath when I accepted my position. That might not mean much to you, seeing as how you view yourself above the laws of men, but my word is my bond. I will not betray my Ministry by staging-"

"I want you to run for Minister," Dumbledore said. "There is no need for a coup."

"Running for Minister would mean me losing my position as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Amelia said.

"Which is why we must act immediately," Dumbledore said. "If you can install someone loyal to you as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, we can begin your campaign as soon as possible."

"I have not agreed to help you yet," Amelia reminded the old wizard.

"Every minute we delay, Lord Voldemort prepares to destroy everything that we hold dear," Dumbledore said with an unusually firm tone.

"Every minute we delay?" Amelia looked to the Pensieve. "You've known about his return for how long? I mean, you've had time to reform the Order. You've had time to stage an assault on Malfoy Manor." Amelia suddenly remembered seeing Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt within the Pensieve. "You've had time to approach my Aurors behind my back…"

"Do not take it personally, Amelia," Dumbledore said. "I have simply done whatever was in my power to fight against an enemy that you all chose to forget about. Nymphadora and Kingsley are loyal to you, but they also understand the gravity of the situation at hand. I did not force them to join me."

"Who else?" Amelia asked. "Who else in my Department secretly moonlights as an Order member?"

"Just Nymphadora and Kingsley," Dumbledore replied. "And Alastor, but he no longer works for the Aurors Department. He is the one who approached Nymphadora and Kingsley."

"And where is Nymphadora Tonks?" Amelia asked. "She asked for leave out of the blue, and no one has been able to contact her since."

"She is on Order business," Dumbledore replied, and Amelia frowned at him.

"Let me guess… I don't have the privilege of knowing about this 'Order business'," Amelia said.

"She is currently working to alert the British Werewolf communities of the coming threat," Dumbledore told her.

"What?"

"Lord Voldemort preys upon the weak," Dumbledore explained. "He already has many Vampires following him, and his gaze is no doubt turning towards the Werewolves. We must alert them before they fall under his lies."

Amelia was honestly left speechless. There was a war being fought behind the curtains, and she had no idea. Her own Aurors were involved, but she still had no idea.

"Amelia, you clearly need time to process all of this," Dumbledore said, and Amelia didn't disagree with him. "Find me once you come to a decision."

"And if I decide to warn the Minister?" Amelia asked.

"I will not force you to join us," Dumbledore told her plainly. "I am not Lord Voldemort, nor do I wish to practice his methods. If you go to Cornelius with this, then you will need to take responsibility for his actions."

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Sunday 27th December, 1993 (Amelia's Office – Early Morning)

She was conflicted.

No, she was at war with herself.

Getting drunk in her Office was nothing new, but dreading over a coming war definitely was. She had so much to think about, but all she could picture was Edgar and his Family. Her kin had been butchered without mercy during the last war, and she had done nothing to stop it at the time. She was too busy navigating the politics that come with war, and by the time she had learned of their deaths, the war was coming to a close. She had been completely useless to her brother and his Family. My Family.

But everything was different now. Now, she knew of what was coming, and she knew that her Family was in danger again. Susan… What do I do? Are my principles more important than her life? No. Nothing is more important than her. Amelia finished her eighth glass of Firewhiskey, and she felt her brain throb painfully. What was the right course of action here?

Telling the Minister was looking more and more dangerous, but at the same time, he held all the power. If he decided to honor his Office, the Dark Lord would be facing a prepared Ministry when he finally made his move. But if Cornelius chooses to ignore this threat… We'll all die. Amelia looked to the vial containing the silvery memories, and she came to a decision. He must know. The Ministry must stand united against this threat. Dumbledore might be the only wizard who can rival the Dark Lord's power, but he is only one man. This war will be fought in the streets, and we must do everything in our power to protect the people.

Amelia pocketed the silvery vial, and then she made her way out of her Office. The Aurors Office was still deserted, and she desperately wished that Rufus were here. He'd know what to do. He's the soldier. The Firewhiskey blurred her vision, but Amelia didn't let that stop her. She travelled straight to the Minister's Office, and once she spotted his secretary preparing for the day, Amelia straightened her robes and approached her.

"Madam Bones?" the young witch stood up with a surprised look. "You're here very early-"

"Is Cornelius coming in today?" Amelia asked, and the young witch's nose twitched. She can smell the Firewhiskey, can't she?

"It's Sunday, Madam," the witch replied slowly. "He never works on Sundays, but if you want, I can send a message to him."

"Tell him that I need to speak to him first thing Monday morning," Amelia said, and the witch looked at her calendar.

"Oh, I'm sorry…" the witch said, and Amelia cocked an eyebrow. "He is unavailable on Monday."

"Why?" Amelia asked. "Does he also take Mondays off?"

The young witch shrunk a little, and Amelia tried to calm herself down. The poor girl is only doing her job, Amelia. Don't take your stress out on her.

"He is going hunting on Monday," the witch said hesitantly. Hunting?

"With who?" Amelia asked.

"Lucius Malfoy," the witch replied, and Amelia felt rooted to her spot. Lucius Malfoy… He's back. "Lord Malfoy has returned from his time abroad, and the Minister wished to see him. They won't return from their trip until Wednesday, I'm afraid."

"I… I see," Amelia said.

All of a sudden, she regretted coming here at all. Cornelius Fudge lived in a mansion that Lucius Malfoy had bought for him. Cornelius Fudge hosted extravagant parties just for the Old Families in a sad bid to impress them. Cornelius Fudge wanted nothing more than to be a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Cornelius Fudge was their puppet, and they were the puppets of the Dark Lord.

"Forget that I was here," Amelia said. "I will wait until Cornelius returns from his hunting trip."

"If this is important, I can contact him, Madam Bones," the witch said.

"I just wished to update him on the Gaia Project," Amelia lied. "Good day."

Without another word, Amelia left for the elevator. She felt sick, and all she could hear was her own blood rushing into her skull. Rotten down to its bedrock… Severus Snape wasn't lying. Cornelius will not take this threat seriously. He will claim that the memories were forged in an effort to dismantle his leadership. His love for his Office, and the money of the Old Families, will blind him. He will lead us all into mutual destruction.

She eventually found herself standing in the Aurors Office, her vacant eyes surveying the cluttered desks. Who could she trust with this information? Rufus. Kingsley. Jane. Gawain. Nymphadora. Who else?

"You smell like a brewery," came Rufus' voice, and she quickly turned to face him.

"Rufus…" she was relieved to see her old friend. He's no doubt here to check everyone's work for errors.

"Is it done?" Rufus asked, his yellow eyes narrowing on her. "Can I stop sending my Aurors to Albania?"

"Yes…" Amelia muttered, and Rufus cocked an eyebrow.

"Amelia? What has happened?" he asked, a rare hint of concern in his voice.

"Do you trust every Auror who works for us?" Amelia asked him.

"Some more than others," Rufus replied, his eyes had become piercing. "Has one of them been caught taking bribes?"

"No," Amelia gathered her thoughts. "I need to show you something, Rufus, and it cannot get out."

Rufus gave a slow nod.

"Meet me in the Pensieve Room in twenty minutes," Amelia walked past him. "Make sure that you're not followed."

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Ronald Weasley's POV

Sunday 27th December, 1993 (Madam Roberts' Suitcase – Near Midday)

Ron sat cross-legged on the sand, his eyes closed as he concentrated on levitating two blocks of wood Wandlessly. As it turned out, his merging with the Entity had done nothing to strengthen his Magical Core. He was sorely disappointed, of course, but also very relieved. Despite his desire to become more powerful, he didn't want anything from the fuck-stain that had ruined his life.

Madam Roberts had been rather lenient with him today on account of his recent surgery, and he had to argue with his parents just to come here, but it was all worth it. For the last four hours, Ron hadn't found himself worrying over Pansy. If anything, he felt even more motivated to help her. The stronger I am, the safer they all are. That's my duty, isn't it? To protect others from what's coming.

"Your focus is improving," Madam Roberts said, and Ron opened his eyes.

She had a faint smile on her lips, and as Ron lowered the wooden blocks onto the sand, she gave him an approving nod.

"How long was that?" Ron asked.

"Twenty minutes," Madam Roberts said. Not good enough, Ron. Why wasn't it thirty minutes?

"My hands are starting to hurt," Ron said as he looked at his trembling hands. I still can't hold Cutis Terra for long… Not to mention that I can only use Wandless Magic for about an hour before I become exhausted. Why am I not improving?

"Let me see," she kneeled down and took his hands. "On a scale of one to ten; how much pain are your hands in?"

"Four?" Ron replied, though he sounded quite unsure. "Madam Roberts… I feel like I've hit a wall. I still can't hold Cutis Terra for more than thirty seconds, and even though I train my Wandless Magic every single day, I'm still struggling to cast most of the Spells I know."

"Several factors could be responsible for this 'wall', Ronald," Madam Roberts massaged his hands with hers. "I personally believe that your ever-changing body is struggling to keep up with your Magical Core."

"Ever-changing body?" Ron felt a jolt of panic.

"Puberty," Madam Roberts said blandly, and Ron nodded dumbly. Of course… I need to stop being so jumpy. "Right now, your Magical Core is being honed far too quickly for your body to keep up. Do you remember what I told you about our anatomy?"

"Our Magical Cores make us more endurable than Muggles," Ron replied. "The stronger the body, the more powerful the wizard."

"Exactly so," Madam Roberts said.

"So there's no way that I can jump over this wall?" Ron asked. "I just need to wait?"

"I suggest that you keep practicing," Madam Roberts replied. "Trust me, when your body begins to adapt with age, you will see a tremendous change in your output." I don't have time to wait, though. "I also believe that one of the reasons why you seem to excel in Wandless Magic is because of your healthy physique. I can't say that I've met any thirteen year olds besides you who can utilize Wandless Magic so adeptly." She's being very nice to me today… Why? Does she want something from me?

Madam Roberts suddenly stopped massaging his hands, her fingers lingering on the back of his fingers. She pressed her fingers down lightly, and when she felt odd calluses on the back of his fingers, she cocked an eyebrow. Shit! My other fingernails! Ron pulled his hands away from hers.

"Please don't squeeze my blisters," Ron quickly came up with a lie.

"Blisters? On the back of your fingers?" Madam Roberts asked, and Ron stood up abruptly.

"Can we please spar?" Ron asked, and Madam Roberts slowly stood up as well.

"Subtle…" she said dully. Yeah, I could've done better than that.

"Please?" Ron urged.

"Are you even up for it?" Madam Roberts asked, and Ron groaned. Will people ever just stop worrying over me? My siblings spent all of dinner staring at me as if I was going to burst into flames without warning. "I know that we've been taking things slow today, but you still did your circuit training and practiced your Wandless Magic for nearly an hour. I don't want you hurting yourself because you feel the need to prove something."

"I don't feel the need to prove anything," Ron said defensively.

"You're a talented young wizard… Of course you feel the need to prove something," Madam Roberts sighed. "But if you feel like you're up to it, then we can spar. Just don't complain if you end up getting hurt."

"How about you don't hurt me, then?" Ron asked as she put some distance between them. "No? Nothing?"

"Take up your position," Madam Roberts ignored his sass.

Ron got into his Dueling Stance, and he drew in a deep breath in order to focus. She followed his lead, and Ron couldn't help but notice that her stance seemed to be rather lax today. Her wand was facing the sand in front of her right foot, and Ron figured that she was going to throw a Non-Verbal stunner at him the moment the Duel started. Don't let her stance fool you, Ron. She's rung your head like a bell for smaller mistakes.

"Ready?" she asked.

"I'm ready," Ron gave a firm nod, his eyes focused on her wand.

"Begin!" Madam Roberts said.

Just as Ron had predicted, her wand slashed upwards, releasing a bright red stunner in the direction of his head. Ron moved his head out of the way, making sure to keep his footing as he launched his own Non-Verbal stunner. She parried his Spell easily, but in that time, Ron decided to launch a chained assault.

"Stupefy, Flipendo, Expelliarmus," Ron chanted, firing his Spells in quick succession.

"Predictable," Madam Roberts said as she dodged all of his Spells with little ease. "You might have improved your speed, Ronald, but you haven't built on the foundation I showed you."

"Oh, I've built on it," Ron smirked, and her lips twitched upwards.

"Show me," she ordered as she aimed her wand at him.

"Fumos," Ron drew in a deep breath, his lungs filling up with smoke. Now!

Ron began a barrage of Non-Verbal Spells, and although they weren't as powerful as her Non-Verbal Spells, she still dodged them without fail. Ron abruptly stopped his barrage in order release the miasma of dark smoke onto the battleground, effectively hiding himself from view. I'll use the Disillusionment Charm to hide myself-

"Impetus Tempestatis," came Madam Roberts' voice, and the smoke was blown away by a powerful blast of wind.

Ron had never seen such a Spell before, and he was forced to dig his heels into the ground as a powerful whirlwind poured out of the tip of Madam Roberts' wand. SHIT! What is that?! Sand flew past him, forcing Ron to cover his eyes with his spare arm in an effort to avoid being blinded. And then, Madam Roberts twisted her wand and summoned the flying sand back towards her. Ron's back was bombarded with wind and sand, and he tumbled face first through the sand still left on the ground.

"Bloody hell…" Ron coughed out, his body itchy from the sand inside his clothes.

Madam Roberts wasted no time in taking charge of the Duel. She buried her wand into the ground with a fierce cry, and a pillar of sand erupted from underneath Ron's chest, which sent the redhead flying sideways. His landing hurt far more than the pillar of sand, but Ron quickly shot up to his feet in an effort to regain his footing.

"You can take a beating, I'll give you that," Madam Roberts smirked, and Ron felt his temper flare. No, Ron… Calm down. Don't let her provoke you.

Ron wiped the sweat from his brow as he took his stance again, making sure to breathe deeply. Madam Roberts began walking towards his left, and Ron warily mimicked her.

"Not going to attack?" Madam Roberts asked. "Very well. I'll attack, then."

With a fluid motion, Madam Roberts spun in her spot as she twirled her wand at the ground beneath her. Sand began to blow around her, creating an odd dome-like shape. Fuck finding out what she's up to. Attack her.

"Bombarda," Ron fired the explosive Charm at his teacher, but the sand around her suddenly solidified into a wall.

The thundering explosion did nothing to damage said wall, and Ron was genuinely shocked at what he was seeing. Merlin, what sort of Spells is she using? Due to her body being hidden behind the thick wall of sand, Ron did not see her plant her feet firmly on the ground as she punched a massive chunk of hardened sand at Ron. Ron rolled out of the way, but his teacher was relentless. With a combination of strong jabs, Madam Roberts sent chunks of hardened sand at Ron, who barely managed to dodge them. Judging from their weight, Ron knew that if those 'boulders' hit him, he was going to end up with a few broken bones.

"Impedimenta," Madam Roberts tried to slow down her quickfooted pupil, but Ron summoned a Non-Verbal shield.

As soon as her Charm was blocked, Ron aimed his wand at her feet. She's using the damn arena against me, so I need to try and do the same.

"Herbivicus!" Ron summoned thick vines in an effort to entangle her feet.

"Good," Madam Roberts said as she avoided the green tendrils by leaping aside. "Change the battlefield if your opponent is taking advantage of the current one. Control your surroundings, Ronald. That is how a true wizard Duels."

With renewed fervor, Ron restarted his Spell Chain. Madame Roberts blocked and fired her own Spells, and they fell into a rally of sorts. She had experience and Spell-strength over him, but Ron was faster and far more agile. Sadly, however, he knew that she would overpower him if they kept trading Spells. I need to change up the pace. If I can get close to her, I can maybe catch her off-guard.

"Cutis Terra," Ron whispered under his breath, and he felt his muscles harden.

Madam Roberts suddenly uppercutted the air with her wand, and pillars of jagged stone barreled towards Ron from in front of her.

"Lumos Solem!" Ron felt the power of the sun course through his veins, and he unleashed the power through his mouth and eyes.

The approaching pillars of jagged stone were blown to smithereens by the golden light, but when Ron felt his head being pushed backwards, he realized that she had blocked his powerful Spell. Ron pushed his face forward, unleashing even more of the loud humming light from his face. He could feel her pushing him back, and his previous exhaustion began to catch up to him. Break it off and charge her!

Ron closed his mouth and eyes as he charged towards her, effectively cutting off the Wandless Spell. She was clearly surprised by his change in tactics, because when Ron reopened his eyes, he was nearly in front of her. He used his shoulder, and the strength provided by Cutis Terra, to break through her shield. For a moment, Ron thought that he had her, but she quickly adapted to his assault. She ducked under his reaching left hand, and with a well-planted kick, she swiped his legs out from under him. Ron was sent rolling through the sand, his concentration broken by his face smashing into the sand.

"Bold tactic…" Madam Roberts smirked as Ron spat out some sand. "If you wanted to eat dirt, that is."

"Shut up," Ron grit out, his mind becoming hazy from anger. Everything I try just fails! What the fuck?!

"Control your anger," Madam Roberts said calmly, which only pissed him off even more. "It's not going to help you beat me, Ronald." We'll see about that!

Ron charged her again, swiping wildly as he tried to punch her head off. She deflected his blows as she quickly distanced herself from him, deciding not to use her wand. And then, she suddenly sidestepped his right fist as she jabbed him in the throat. His breath was immediately lodged in his throat, and Ron bent forward and wheezed painfully. I can't breathe… His wand slipped out his hands, and his eyes burned painfully due to the lack of oxygen.

"Anger which is not tempered by discipline is a weakness," Madam Roberts said, and Ron looked up at her through teary eyes.

She was looking down at him with a calm look, and Ron lunged at her again. She deflected his punches with her hands, and when he tried to swipe her legs out from under her, she smashed her left elbow across his jaw. Once again, Ron found himself facedown in the sand. His head was ringing, and his jaw throbbed from the blow. For a brief moment, Ron lost the will to fight back. What was the point? She was his superior in every regard.

"Had enough?" she asked, but Ron felt his heart ignite once more.

He shot up to his feet again, and when he came at her, she blocked his angry fists with practiced ease. Ron was surprised by her hand-to-hand skills, but at the same time, he knew that she was well versed in all forms of self-defense. This knowledge, however, did nothing to stop him from trying to overpower her.

Her knee suddenly found his stomach, and Ron grunted in pain as the wind left his lungs. Madam Roberts shoved him back onto the dirt, and Ron groaned as his sweaty back stuck to the floor. Get up… Fight her… His vision was starting to blur, but he refused to just give up. I can still beat her… I'm not useless… Ron struggled to stand up on his feet, and although his legs were wobbling, he raised his fists nonetheless. For brief moment, he thought he saw pride on her face.

"Cutis… Terra…" Ron mumbled, but he felt nothing.

He swung at her again, and this time, she took a hold of his right arm and twisted it. Pain traveled from his wrist to his brain, and Ron didn't even realize that she had thrown him onto his arse again. He lay there for a moment, his vision darkening as his ears rung from the beating. Stand up… What are you doing? Ron rolled onto his stomach slowly, and he used his arms to try and lift himself up on his feet again. Madam Roberts did nothing to stop him from getting up, but the moment he was ready to go at her again, she dashed forward and smashed her fist into his nose.

He was out cold before his back hit the sand again.

---

Sunday 27th December, 1993 (Madam Roberts' Suitcase – Past Midday)

Ron woke up to the feeling of Madam Roberts healing his muscles, and it didn't take him long to realize that his face was extremely sore. Ow… What happened? Ron let out a meek groan, and Madam Roberts stopped treating his left bicep.

"Madam Roberts?" Ron rasped.

"I'm here, Ronald," she answered, and Ron looked to his left. "I'll heal your face in a bit. Right now, I just want to finish up on your body."

"Why not heal my face first?" Ron managed to ask, he was struggling to keep his eyes open.

"I thought that I'd take advantage of your unconsciousness," Madam Roberts replied.

"Huh?"

"I didn't want you thrusting in my face again," Madam Roberts said rather bluntly, and Ron felt his ears burn.

"I… I did that once…" Ron muttered. "My face hurts…"

"I've already fixed your broken nose, and I'll tend to the swelling in a bit," Madam Roberts said, and Ron closed his eyes again.

He felt utterly drained of his strength, and although he didn't want to discourage himself for losing to an Auror, a voice in his head mocked him for how pathetic he was. What was he thinking when he attacked her like a wild animal? I was thinking of her… I was thinking of how alone she is right now. I bet she's scared. I bet they have hurt her.

"I'm sorry…" Ron apologized.

"What for?" she asked as she tended to his arm.

"I was angry at something else… I ruined our sparring session," Ron replied.

"What were you angry at, Ronald?" she asked in an almost gentle voice.

"My friend… She's in trouble, and I miss her," Ron spoke without thinking. Who cares if I speak about her? Don't I deserve to show a little fear? Why do I have to be the one to hold it in? Theo, Tracey, and Daphne aren't here… If I can just talk about her a little, I'll be able to stay strong for them.

"Your friend is in trouble?" Madam Roberts asked.

"Her parents sent her to the Carrow Camp," Ron whimpered. "She's all alone."

"I see," Madam Roberts nodded to herself. "I'm sorry to hear about that."

"You know about the Carrow Camp?" Ron looked to his teacher.

"Let's just say that we Aurors tend to keep our eyes on certain individuals," Madam Roberts replied.

"She's not like them," Ron whispered, a pang of pain shooting across his face. "She tried to be like them, but it made her miserable."

"What's her name?" Madam Roberts asked.

"Pansy," Ron replied. "Pansy Parkinson."

His eyes closed by themselves, and he knew that he was going to pass out again. Although the beating had done a number on him, Ron knew that the real reason for his fatigue was the lack of sleep he had endured the night before. Worrying over something that he couldn't change had resulted in him tossing and turning all night long.

"Don't heal my face…" Ron said as he began to slip away. "This can be my lesson…"

"Lesson?" Madam Roberts stopped treating his arm. I should always think of my friends first, and I should never put my problems ahead of theirs. The pain in my face can be my reminder.

"Don't heal my face…" Ron repeated. "I want a reminder…"

---

Thirty Minutes Later

"Are you sure that you don't want me to heal your injuries?" Madam Roberts asked from the fireplace.

The right side of his jaw was swollen, and already bruising, and the same sort of swelling was beginning to appear under his eyes and around his nose. He also had a cut across his bottom lip, which tasted metallic due to the scabbing blood. At least the shower cleaned me up a little. I looked like a right mess before it.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" Ron changed the subject.

"I take Muggle self-defense lessons," Madam Roberts replied. "Muay Thai."

"Muay Thai?" Ron repeated slowly. What sort of word is that?

"Ron… Your friend will be all right," Madam Roberts said, and Ron's eyes darted to the ground. "The Carrows will send her home, and you will see her again."

"I know… But I still can't stop worrying," Ron said, and then he tapped his temple. "I'm insane, you know…"

Madam Roberts said nothing, but he could tell that she wasn't pleased with his comment.

"Could you teach me some of this 'Muay Thai'?" Ron asked.

"Let's stick with wands for now, Ron," Madam Roberts said. "If your face begins to hurt even more, just heal it. Understood?" No.

"I understand," Ron replied, and she stepped through the fire without another word.

Ron lingered in the Greengrass' grand Living Room for a bit, he genuinely didn't want to go home. It wasn't that he was unhappy with anyone back home, of course; it was mostly a personal thing. He felt like he wasn't doing anything of note at the Burrow. He spent most of his time practicing Chess, or practicing his Spellwork, but nothing of note… Nothing that made a difference, anyway. With the French dealt with, and Christmas being a resounding success, Ron was finding himself bored due to a lack of purpose.

Solving Pansy's situation was his next objective, but he knew that he had to wait for her to get back. His father had promised to take him to Albert Trope today, but Ron's intuition told him that this man was going to offer very limited aid. From what I've learned about the Old Families, they are damn near untouchable. There is no way that I'll be able to launch a case against them.

Ron shook his head clear, which caused a jolt of pain to shoot across his face. Ow! Ron, you idiot! With a dark grimace on his face, Ron began preparing the floo. His Family and friends would no doubt question his injuries, and he planned to tell them the truth. A fistfight against an Auror is a damn stupid idea. They'll kick your arse without breaking a sweat. With the floo ready, Ron stepped through the green flames and entered the Burrow.

His siblings and friends were currently occupying the Living Room, with most of them playing a game of Gobstones. Daphne, Tracey, and Theo are sitting in the corner, no doubt discussing Pansy. Or me. I shouldn't have yelled at them like that. Both Daphne and Tracey have been avoiding me since.

"Ron? What happened to your face?" Charlie was suddenly right in front of him. "Merlin, who the fuck did this to you?"

"My Dueling instructor," Ron avoided Charlie's hands. "Don't touch my face, Charlie, its sore."

"Let me see," Bill walked around Charlie, and before long, Ron was backed up against the fireplace. Merlin, if they keep this up, I'll fall into the fireplace.

"I know some Healing Magic," Kirsten pulled out her wand, while the twins winced at the sight of his injuries. "This won't take long, Ron. Just hold still, all right?"

"I'm keeping the injuries," Ron told them. "Stop walking towards me… I'll fall into the damn fireplace if you keep this up."

"What do you mean you're keeping the injuries?" Percy frowned. "Don't be stupid, Ron, let Kirsten heal you."

"Can you lot step back?" Ron was starting to lose his patience.

Most of them did as he asked, but the looks on their faces told him that they didn't intend to leave him alone. Tracey and Theo looked rather concerned, but it was the look on Daphne's face that genuinely bothered him. She looks pissed off, but also scared to death. Ron decided to keep his injuries nonetheless; he deserved them.

"Get your wand out of my face," Ron batted Kirsten's wand away. "You'll poke my fucking eye out, Kirsten."

"She's trying to help you," Charlie said. "Just hold still."

"I said I'm keeping them, and that's final!" Ron snapped, making most people flinch. Ow! Shouting hurts like hell!

The others around his age went dead silent, while the adults just stepped back with frowns. Percy looked the most annoyed, but honestly, Ron couldn't care less. He had asked them to stop, but like always, they refused to listen.

"Why?" Bill all but demanded. "Look at you, Ron… You look like you're in a lot of pain."

"I am, but that's the point," Ron pushed past Charlie and Kirsten. "Leave me alone."

He made his way into the Kitchen, where he found the adults muttering under their breaths. They're not even a little subtle. I swear to Merlin, everyone in the house knows that something's bothering them.

"Dad," Ron said, which earned him all of their attention. "I'm going to change into-"

"Ron! Your face!" Molly Weasley stumbled past the others in order to get to him first. "My poor boy! Where's my wand?!"

She quickly yanked her wand out of her apron and pointed it at his face, but Ron clicked his tongue as he moved out of the way.

"Stop," Ron said. "Mum, you nearly jammed it into my nose."

"Did Roberts do this to you?" Lord Greengrass demanded.

"She did, but I deserved it," Ron said as he dodged his mother's wand.

"Deserved this?!" Molly's voice was nearly earsplitting.

"Yes, I deserved it," Ron said, and then he suddenly snatched his mother's wand out of her hand. "Stop pointing that wand in my face, for Merlin's sake."

"Let me see him," Pandora squeezed past Arthur and Xeno. "Gods, Ron… Look at the state of you! Give your mother her wand back this instant! We need to-"

"I'm keeping the injuries as a lesson, and I won't hear anything more on it," Ron said with a finality that shut everyone up.

Ron then handed the wand back to his mother before brushing past them in order to get to the stairs.

"A lesson?" Arthur asked. "Ron… What's the matter with you? Why did your tutor do this to you?"

"Because unlike you, she doesn't step on eggshells around me," Ron replied. "I made multiple mistakes in our sparring session, and this was the result. She offered to heal me, but I decided to keep the injuries as a lesson. Now, stop hounding me… I'm going to go change into something presentable, and then, we'll go to Albert Trope."

"You're not going anywhere with those injuries, Ronald," Molly put her foot down.

"I am going," Ron said. "Please, just leave me alone… I'm not in the mood to fight with any of you."

With that, Ron ignored the nonsense coming out of their mouths as he made his way up the the time Ron reached his room, he could hear someone following him. So, Ron decided to wait by his door in order to confront his stalker.

"Your tutor really did that to you?" Theo asked.

"She's not one to hold back on me," Ron replied, he was glad that it was Theo who had followed him up.

"You ought to fire her for this," Theo grimaced as he studied Ron's face. "Merlin… Did she break your nose, or something?"

"I should fire her because she gives me a hundred percent?" Ron asked as he entered his room, and Theo quickly followed him in.

"Fire her because she's hurting you," Theo shut the door.

"Theo… I don't mind getting roughed up a little," Ron sighed out. "I get that you're concerned, but you've seen me take worse beatings from the dummies within Sanctuary, haven't you? This is nothing new."

"Keeping your bruises is new," Theo frowned. "Does this have something to do with Pansy?"

"What?" Ron feigned ignorance. "No."

"This is very close to self-harm, Ron," Theo sounded rather peeved, but then, his expression softened. "Mate… This isn't healthy behavior. You're scaring people."

"I'm scaring people?" Ron felt a hint of annoyance. "Why is it that I have people crawling up my arse constantly?"

"Because you can't even blink properly," Theo said. "Look at yourself, Ron… The skin beneath your eyes is turning purple. You look like you fell from a broom, and then landed on concrete face first."

Now that Theo had pointed out his inability to blink properly, Ron realized that he was scrunching up his entire face whenever he did blink.

"It hurts, but that's the point," Ron tried to explain. "You remember when you kicked Millie in the head? She wanted to keep her bruise because it served as a reminder that she shouldn't underestimate others-"

"That was nothing more than a bump," Theo countered. "This is just fucked up."

"Well, I'm a fucked up individual," Ron said bluntly, making Theo massage his forehead. "I need to change clothes, so please wait outside."

"I'm not calling you fucked up, Ron…" Theo sighed as he shook his head. "But this… This is wrong. You're not keeping your bruises as a reminder, you're keeping them because they are helping you ignore a different sort of pain."

"You're a Mind-Healer now, are you?" Ron asked.

"No, but I know how much it hurts to lose someone dear to you," Theo said, and Ron could do little but stare at him. Has he…? No… He'd never do that to himself… Would he?

"Theo-"

"This doesn't help Pansy," Theo opened the door and stepped out. "As much as I hate to repeat this; the Carrows are not going to inflict permanent harm on her person. I don't know why you're this worried for her. I mean, we're worried, but you… You spent all night tossing and turning." He heard me? "It isn't healthy, and it's going to cause you serious problems."

"You know why I'm this worried," Ron said. "Don't tell me that you've forgotten our conversation already."

"Oh, I'll never forget it…" Theo muttered. "I want her to be safe as well, Ron, but hurting myself over it isn't going to help anyone. If Pansy saw you like this, how do you think she would react?" She'd probably burst into tears…

"Close the door," Ron turned towards his trunk. "I'll be down shortly, and then we can go see this Albert Trope."

Theo stared at Ron's back, and then, he shut the door without another word. He knew Ron well enough to know that Ron wasn't going to listen to him.

---

Sunday 27th December, 1993 (Somerset (Watchet) – Afternoon)

Ron, Tracey, Daphne, Theo, and Arthur stood outside Albert Trope's house, and Ron couldn't help but look at the Muggle children who were eyeing them with curious looks. One of the little ones tapped his own face, as if trying to show Ron that Ron was bruised, and Ron gave the boy a grin. As it turned out, Albert Trope was a Muggle-Born, and he lived in a Muggle neighborhood. This, of course, served to put Ron at ease, mostly because he didn't want to deal with a Pure-Blood who would side with Pansy's parents.

"Mr. Weasley, please ring the bell," Tracey said, and Arthur blinked at her.

"The bell?" Arthur asked. "I don't see a bell."

Tracey gave a little chuckle, and then she reached forward and pressed a little button on the side of the door. A loud chime emanated from inside the house, and both Ron and Arthur looked more than impressed. The power of Muggle technology... It's quite impressive.

"What is making that sound?" Theo asked Tracey.

"I have no idea if I'm being honest," Tracey shrugged. "I don't really know how circuits and speakers connect to make a doorbell."

"Circuits and speakers?" Arthur asked. "You mean to tell me that Muggles can combine their technology to make something completely new?"

"Yes…" Tracey replied slowly. "Mr. Weasley, don't you work with Muggle Artifacts all day long?"

"He has no idea what any of this stuff really is," Ron explained. "He just pokes and observes whatever items that he scavenges from people's bins."

"That's not true," Arthur said, but Ron gave him a bland look. "All right… That's a little true…" Seriously, why even tinker with this stuff if you don't want to learn how it actually works?

The door opened, and a middle-aged woman greeted them with a warm smile. She looked at each of their faces, but when she saw Ron, her smile slowly died. That ugly, am I?

"Good afternoon," Ron greeted her.

"Are you… Are you all wizards?" the woman whispered. Aren't you a witch?

"We are," Arthur beamed. "Is Albert home?"

"He is," she replied as she moved back. "Please, come in quickly."

"Are you a Muggle?" Arthur asked her excitedly, and she nodded as she sealed the door shut behind them. "Look at this place, Ron… It's so Muggle! I had no idea that Albert lived in such a wonderful place!"

"Dad, please behave," Ron felt a little embarrassed when he saw how uncomfortable she looked. "We're sorry for barging into your house out of the blue, but we really need to speak to your husband."

"Is this about his work with your government?" the woman asked.

"It is," Ron replied. "Are you his wife?"

"I am," Mrs. Trope replied.

"So you're Elizabeth," Arthur smiled widely, and she gave a nod. Why does she look so uncomfortable around us? Surely she's met wizards before. "Albert told me a little about you. I'm Arthur Weasley." Arthur then patted Ron's back. "Ronald here is my son, and these are his friends; Theo, Tracey, and Daphne."

"Elizabeth?!" came a man's voice from further inside the house. "Who was at the door?!"

"Some wizards are here to discuss your work, love!" she replied, and they heard quick footsteps approaching them.

Albert Trope, who was a balding, middle-aged man, walked into view as he came through a door that slid open from the middle. What an odd design for a door. Do all Muggle homes have such doors?

"Arthur?" Albert eyed Ron's father, and then he looked to the children. "My word, boy… What happened to your face?"

"That's a rather dull story," Ron replied, he wasn't keen on opening up to strangers. "Do you have some time to spare, Mr. Trope? We could use your help on a certain matter."

"This really is urgent, Albert," Arthur said. "We wouldn't have come unannounced, otherwise."

"I… Of course," Albert quickly gathered himself. "Please, come in."

---

Thirty Minutes Later

"This is a very complex situation," Albert shifted in his seat. "I don't know what you've heard about my Office, but we're relatively new, and we haven't actually dealt with a situation like this before."

"Really?" Daphne asked. "Not even once?"

"No," Albert told the truth. "Our main job is to work with Muggle-Borns who have parents that refuse to let them be who they are."

"Wait… There are Muggles out there that don't want their children to be Magical?" Arthur asked, he sounded rather surprised.

"Wizards and witches are… Well, we are all quite bizarre, are we not?" Albert asked, making the others exchange looks. Bizarre? How so? "What I'm trying to say is that not all Muggles can get their heads around Magic. Sometimes, Muggle parents refuse to let their children become a part of the Magical World."

"And you help protect these children?" Ron asked.

"As best we can, yes," Albert replied. "Now, your friend's situation, despite being rather upsetting, isn't all that unusual. We know about this camp, and we know that many Pure-Blood children are sent there. We just don't do anything about it."

"Why not?" Tracey asked. "Aren't you Muggle-Born? Don't you disagree with this sort of thing?"

"I do," Albert replied. "But let's be honest… These 'Old Families' pretty much run the Wizarding World. We don't get involved with them, and they leave us be. I can't, in good conscience, bring this case to my Office. We will be shut down by our higher ups."

"Isn't there anything that you can do?" Ron tried to grasp at straws. "Even advice would be welcome."

"My advice would be to speak with your friend," Albert said, his eyes focusing on Ron. "You mentioned emancipation, and I can help you with that."

"Please, go on," Ron leaned forward. I wish I brought a notebook, or something.

"Well, your friend can file for emancipation, but she will need to prove that she is not being influenced by outside Magic," Albert started. "This is the easy part, of course… The hard part is tackling the parents. I have heard a lot about the Parkinson Family, and they won't give up their heir without a fight. For one, they will cut away her funding, which will leave her without a Knut to her name."

"What about her Trust Account?" Tracey looked to Theo and Daphne. "You all have one, right? Can't she just use that to survive?"

"That depends on what kind of account she has," Albert replied.

"Her account isn't like ours," Theo told them. "Both Blaise and Pansy's accounts are connected to their parents', which means that until they turn seventeen, the accounts belong to the Head of the Family." Damn.

"This will make emancipation rather difficult," Albert said. "If the Wizengamot learns about this, which they will, they will not allow a young witch to become desolate. Her request will be denied."

"What if I open an account for her?" Ron asked.

"Ron…" Arthur started, but Ron stopped him by waving his hand.

"You'd need to put enough money in there to prove to the Wizengamot that she won't go hungry," Albert replied slowly. "This is… unorthodox… but it might work. She would also need to prove that she has a roof over her head during her school Breaks."

"My father will happily give her a home if I ask him," Daphne said. Which will no doubt make him a target for the Parkinsons.

"So a roof, and an account," Ron stored the information in his head. "What else do we need?"

"You will need her consent," Albert replied. "From what I'm seeing, you all want her to leave her Family, but in my experience, that is not an easy thing to do. Whatever disagreements she might have with them, they are still her parents. Once again, I would advise you to speak to her. This has to be her decision."

"Could you owl me the papers needed for emancipation?" Ron asked. "I'd like to at least show them to her before she makes a decision." And I'll do my best to convince her to sign them.

"I'll have them sent over first thing tomorrow morning," Albert replied.

"Thank you," Ron gave a grateful nod.

"Oh, and there is one more thing," Albert clicked his fingers. "Even if she proves to the Wizengamot that she doesn't need her parents to survive, they still have the right to deny her request."

"What? Why?" Tracey asked.

"Wizarding Law is very different from Muggle Law," Albert explained. "The Office for Youth Services isn't even six years old yet… Most wizards don't know that it even exists, and as far as I know, it only exists within the British Ministry. The concept of 'Youth Services' is quite foreign to wizards, who quite frankly, are still living in the dark ages when it comes to matters like these." Are we really that backwards? "And since the Wizengamot is filled with members who are either Half-Blood, or Pure-Blood, our Office isn't taken very seriously."

"This girl is the heir of a very prominent Family," Albert went on. "I hate to say this, but her request will most likely be denied."

Ron drew in a deep breath as he massaged his forehead. Fucking roadblocks at every turn. What's the point of convincing her to leave her Family behind if she's going to be denied emancipation anyway? If anything, her life will be much harder due to my meddling. Even though he desperately wanted to help her, he also didn't want to make things worse for her.

"What if we just keep her away from her parents?" Tracey asked.

"That's not a good idea, Trace," Daphne replied quickly. "She is their daughter, and according to the Old Ways, she is their… property… until she's of age."

"Property?" Tracey looked disgusted, while Ron's head spun. We really are living in the dark ages, aren't we?

"She can't oppose her parents," Theo looked a little uncomfortable. "And if we steal her away, we'll all be facing charges."

"I wish I could do more to help you, but as I said, this is a very complex situation," Albert said. "Morally speaking, you are all very right to be worried for your friend. But according to Wizarding Law, you cannot cut her off from her parents. Not only are they extremely influential figures, their wealth also makes them untouchable. Even if you convince her to sign the emancipation papers, this will most likely not even reach the Wizengamot."

"So basically… Our hands are tied," Ron said.

"I'm very sorry," Albert apologized. "I want to say that you can help her, but I also don't want to give you false hope."

"Um… Right…" Ron nodded to himself, he was starting feel rather hopeless. "Thank you, Mr. Trope. Your advice has helped greatly."

Ron stood up at that, and the others followed suit.

"I'll still send those papers over," Albert said, and Ron shook his hand.

"Please do."

---

Sunday 27th December, 1993 (The Burrow – Dinner)

Ron hadn't spoken a word since they had returned from Albert Trope's house.

His friends had taken Albert's words in stride, but Ron wasn't quite like them. He didn't have Daphne's composure, he didn't have Theo's ability to become detached, and he didn't have Tracey's 'Gameboy' to distract him. No, Ron was still fixated on Pansy, which he knew wasn't exactly healthy because he couldn't really do anything to help her right now.

The parents were acting off, and by now, everyone had caught onto it. Ron's siblings had asked if everything was all right, but their concerns were met with fake smiles. Ron knew that the adults planned to talk about the war after dinner, but he couldn't bring himself to care much for it. He already knew about the war, and without anyone being the wiser, Ron had been a part of it since he was eight. To him, this was just another day.

But saying that, Ron also understood that he had to be careful. He had brought up the war in the past in an effort to motivate his friends, and now that his ramblings were about to be confirmed, Ron understood that his friends would have questions. Theo will have the most questions due to our chat yesterday. As long as I don't give the Entity away, I think I'll be safe. I mean, I've literally run into the Dark Lord before, so it's not too hard to believe that I'd start preparing for him. If anything, me preparing for the worst makes perfect sense.

"Ronnie? Are you coming?" came his mother's voice, and Ron looked up from his untouched bowl of soup.

The parents were heading into the Living Room, and much to Ron's surprise, the table was devoid of any children. They all left, and I didn't even notice. Ron stood up and followed after the adults without uttering a word. I'll stay in a quiet corner and just listen. It's probably for the best if I don't talk much. The Living Room was packed, and after squeezing past the other occupants, Ron found himself leaning against the wall in the far left corner. Daphne, Tracey, and Theo weren't too far from him, but they were too busy studying the adults to pay him any attention.

"Dad, what's going on?" Fred was the first to speak. "Why are all of you acting so bloody weird?"

"Is this about Ron?" Percy asked, and Ron ignored the looks being sent his way.

The adults looked to Arthur, who let out a long sigh before stepping forward.

"You've clearly noticed that something has been off about this entire Christmas," Arthur started, and his words were met with resounding agreement.

"Let him speak," Lord Greengrass said, and unsurprisingly, people quickly closed their mouths. Ha! Even the twins stopped talking. Is he really that intimidating?

"Thank you, Sebastian," Arthur said, and then he cleared his throat. "The reason why everything has been so hectic is because we wanted all of you together for this… announcement… Something terrible has happened, and you all need to know about it."

Once again, eyes darted towards Ron, who once again ignored the sorry looks being sent his way. Will you lot just listen to him? Dad, stop beating around the bush. Just tell them already so I can go take a nap.

"What's happened, father?" Percy asked, though his eyes traveled towards Bill and Charlie. "Why have Bill and Charlie been watching over us for the last two days?"

"Do they know what's gone wrong?" George asked.

"Just listen to your father, eh?" Sirius spoke up. "Arthur, just tell them already."

With one last look at the other adults, Arthur summoned his courage and opened his mouth.

"Everyone in this room knows that You-Know-Who is still alive," Arthur started, and a deafening silence engulfed the room. "His body was destroyed at the end of the last Great War, but he managed to survive-"

"Monster," Molly shook her head in disgust.

"Over the last year, he's gathered his strength, and now, he has returned to England," Arthur went on.

Ron studied the room silently, his eyes lingering on his slack-jawed friends. Even Daphne, who was always in control of her expressions, was staring ahead with a jarred look. For some petty reason, Ron felt vindicated. All the times that they had ignored his advice, or called him mental, meant nothing now. He had been right. He had always been right.

As Arthur went on about the Dark Lord's return, Ron simply gauged everyone's reactions. Harry, unlike the rest, didn't seem frightened whatsoever. If anything, he looked ready to have a go at You-Know-Know. Brave, but foolish. The Dark Lord would annihilate Harry within a heartbeat. Ron's siblings had lost any mirth that they had, and truth be told, he didn't blame them. They had all heard the stories, and they were all smart enough to understand that the Wizarding World was in terrible danger.

As Ron looked back to his friends, his eyes clashed against Theo's. The weedy Slytherin was just staring at Ron, his expression a mixture of fear and realization. I'd give a hundred Galleons to look inside his mind right now. Without breaking his silence, Ron gestured Theo to come stand by his side. Theo didn't move at first, but then, very slowly, he slithered back next to Ron.

"What is this?" Theo whispered, his voice almost shaky.

Ron gestured him to stay quiet, mostly because he didn't want people looking in Theo's direction. We Slytherins might be getting the cold shoulder very soon. It's best if we keep out of sight for a bit.

"Wait…" George interrupted Arthur. "You said that his body was destroyed at the end of the last Great War… Are… Are you saying that there is going to be another Great War?"

Everyone looked to Arthur, who gave a grave nod.

"Even as we speak, he is no doubt gathering his followers to him," Lord Greengrass said. "The Werewolves, the Vampires, the Giants… All manner of Dark Creatures."

"We have to warn the Ministry," Percy said. "We should go and tell the Minister everything."

"Percy, the Ministry can't be trusted," Sirius said, and Percy looked bewildered.

"The Ministry can't be trusted?" Percy looked around for support, but he found none. "I'll admit that the Ministry isn't exactly free from corruption, but it's their duty to protect the masses. If we don't warn them, they could be compromised."

"Certain people within the Ministry have been warned," Arthur said. "People that we can trust."

"What about the Minister?" Percy asked. As smart as he is, he puts way too much faith in people who have authority. It's almost idiotic.

"The Minister is Lucius Malfoy's tool," Lord Greengrass said bluntly. "Grow up, boy. This blind faith in the Ministry is beneath someone of your intellect." Ouch. "Take it from someone who has bought many politicians, the moment you go to the Ministry, the Dark Lord will learn of your actions."

"So he's already working with the Pure-Bloods?" Harry asked with a furrowed brow. "Which ones? The Malfoys? The old Death-Eaters?"

Ron felt Theo shrink, and so he moved forward a little in order to hide Theo from the others. Theo noticed this, and he wasted no time in shrinking out of sight. He's smart enough to understand that his father is most likely already involved.

"Why was Malfoy here, then?" Hermione asked, her eyes darting towards Ron.

"That is a long story," Arthur replied.

"We deserve to know," Harry said.

"Harry," Sirius said sternly. "Just listen instead of interrupting. You'll get your answers."

"Dumbledore has reformed the Order," Xeno told them.

"Are you a part of it?" Luna asked, she was surprisingly calm right now. No, she's not… She's just not interested. Weird. I mean, look at Tori… She's holding Pandora's hand because of how frightened she is, but Luna doesn't even look bothered.

Ron turned his gaze towards Ginny, and he found her staring down at the ground as she massaged her left forearm. Why does she keep doing that? Anytime I see her, she's fiddling with her forearm.

"We all are," Sirius answered Luna's question. He shouldn't have said that. The Order could be put in danger if anyone in this room runs their mouth.

"Sirius," Arthur said, and Sirius raised his hands.

"Who else is in the Order?" Harry asked.

"We can't tell you that, Harry," Arthur said, and Harry frowned deeply.

"Why not?" Harry asked.

"Because certain wizards can look into your minds," Mary explained. "If we tell all of you too much, we are putting ourselves in danger. I'm sure that none of you have practiced Occlumency before."

Tracey and Daphne looked towards Ron, who pretended to not notice their staring. My Occlumency is garbage; so don't look at me like I'm some expert. That whole Boggart mess was the Entity's doing, not mine. I actually feel sorry for that poor bastard.

"Then you ought to teach us," Harry countered.

"And we will," Sirius said. "But until then, we can't put our fellow Order members at risk."

"Harry, calm down," Neville whispered.

"Why are you telling us this at all?" Fred couldn't help but ask. "Do you want us to join the Order?"

Ron frowned a little because of that question. The last thing he wanted to see was Fred on the front lines. I still remember my vision about Harry's little group… I have to do everything in my power to stop that group from existing. He'll lead them all to their deaths. Training and preparing each other is a grand idea, but making a militia group is pure idiocy. At the end of the day, they don't stand a fucking chance against actual Death-Eaters. Hell, I probably don't either.

"No," Molly shut down Fred's idea immediately. Good job, mum. We have to make sure that every kid in this room stays well away from the Order. Not counting me, of course.

"We are telling you because we want you all to be safe," Pandora said. "We want you to stay away from all of this because you are all still very young. You shouldn't be forced to fight in a war."

"What about me?" Harry asked. "I'm the one who Lord Voldemort wants." He said the damn name! Again!

Most people cringed at Harry's liberal use of the Dark Lord's name, while Ron found himself disagreeing with Harry's comment. Sure, the Dark Lord wants Harry gone, but this war isn't just about Harry. It's about everyone who is going to get caught up in one man's mad bid to become immortal. Not to mention the involvement of the Old Families, most of who want to cut Muggle-Borns out of the Wizarding World. No, this war isn't about Harry. It's about everyone.

"This war isn't about you," Lord Greengrass told Harry. "You're just another name on the Dark Lord's list. Nothing more." I'm sure Harry is at the top of the Dark Lord's list.

"Oi," Sirius frowned at Lord Greengrass. "Don't speak to him like that."

"Then talk some sense into him," Lord Greengrass said, and then he looked to Harry. "You are just a boy, and from what I've seen, the legends about your prowess are nothing more than fiction. Stay quiet, and listen." That was sort of uncalled for, but he does make a valid point. Harry needs to stop getting so riled up.

The Trio glared at Lord Greengrass, who looked less than impressed with their behavior.

"What if we want to join the Order?" Harry asked almost defiantly. "What if we want to fight?!"

Pretty much every Gryffindor looked ready to agree with Harry, which genuinely served to piss Ron off. He's riling everyone up with his 'bravery'. Merlin, I remember when I was that stupid. Ron rubbed the scar on his chest, and he felt the dull ache of his bruises. Most of them can't even Duel me, so what hope do they have against someone like Antonin Dolohov? He even defeated Madam Roberts, and considering what she did to me, I'd wager that he'd obliterate me in a fight.

"You want to fight Death-Eaters?" Ron finally broke his silence, which earned him everyone's attention. "Take a look at my face, Harry… This is what happens when you go up against a trained witch or wizard. The Dark Lord has been perfecting his Magic since before your parents were born. Stop thinking with your heart, and use your brain for a change."

Ron then looked at his siblings.

"Let the adults handle this," Ron said. "You lot just need to focus on preparing yourselves for what's coming."

"Ron's right," Arthur said, while the other adults exchanged looks. Am I too calm right now? Damn, I should've stayed quiet. "Most of you aren't even close to finishing your educations, and that should be your priority."

"We're informing you because we want you to be prepared," James repeated Pandora's message. "Right now, everything is under control, but pretty soon, there will be chaos. Hogwarts is the safest place for all of you."

"You're not going to fight, are you?" Tracey asked her father. "Dad? Mum?"

"Your mother won't be fighting, but I have decided to-" James started.

"You can't!" Tracey looked panicked. "Not after what happened to you!"

"Tracey, please," Susana said gently.

"Father, you are not a soldier," Daphne joined in.

"I have more experience than most," Lord Greengrass said calmly. "We will speak later. For now, pay attention to us." Are you a living statue? Can't you see that she's worried?

Ron held his tongue; he knew that speaking out of turn right now would only cause more uproar. Despite his disagreements with the adults in the past, Ron knew that their goals were currently aligned. Both Ron and the parents wanted to keep the children out of the war as much as possible, which meant that he had to play the role of the obedient child. Most of the work I do is done away from prying eyes, so I might as well take advantage of that. Professor Snape was right; working from the shadows helps me keep everything under my control.

The outburst from Daphne and Tracey had attracted the attention of everyone, and Ron realized that his siblings and the Trio were all looking at Theo. Uh-oh.

"Maybe I should leave…" Theo whispered.

"You'll do no such thing," Ron whispered back.

"If everything is so hush-hush," Fred started.

"Then why is he here?" George asked. Merlin, please give me the strength needed to not beat the shit out of these two. "Isn't his father-?"

"He's here because he's just like the rest of us," Ron said, while Molly and Arthur looked quite annoyed with the twins. "This war is out of his control, and he deserves the chance to hear about it."

"Why are you so calm about all of this?" Percy couldn't help but ask. "Look at him… He doesn't look bothered whatsoever."

"Yes, Ron… Why are you so calm?" Pandora asked, her sharp gaze fixed on him.

"You forget that I faced the Dark Lord back in my first year," Ron replied bluntly, not caring at all that his reply made people uncomfortable. "Ever since my coma, I've been preparing for this day. It's just that simple."

"Preparing for this day?" Bill asked.

"I spend hours every day studying and honing my Magic," Ron shrugged. This is all common knowledge, so it won't raise any suspicion. If anything, it might inspire some of the people in this room to get their acts together. "I didn't think that he'd return this soon, but I always knew that he would return eventually."

"Right…" Arthur gave Ron an odd look. What's he thinking? Did I say too much? No, I barely said anything at all.

Ron shot a quick glance at Tracey and Daphne, both of who were just staring at him. Yeah, I'm not so crazy now, am I? A part of him was glad that they were taking this so seriously, but another part of him was relatively annoyed with them. He had spent over a year begging them to listen to him, and in that time, only Millie had taken his lessons seriously. And even she didn't believe me about the war to come. She only worked to better herself for herself, which is a lot better than the attitudes that the rest of them showed me. I mean, Daphne refuses to hone her Magic because it bores her… What kind of garbage excuse is that?

"Arthur," Molly whispered to her husband. "Go on, Arthur. Tell them what they need to do."

"Ahem," Arthur cleared his throat, though his eyes lingered on Ron. "Starting from today, we need all of you to look out for each other at Hogwarts. You-Know-Who's return is still a secret, but you can never be too careful. At no point are any of you to discuss his return with anyone who isn't inside this room. If you do need to talk about it, go to Dumbledore. Do you all understand?"

"What about our friends?" Fred asked.

"Yeah, what about Lee?" George asked. "His mum is a Muggle-Born." I really do need to talk to the Headmaster about that. There's a lot of Muggle-Borns out there, and we need to help them all before the Snatchers show up.

"What about my parents?" Hermione asked.

"Does my Gran know?" Neville added.

"Neville, your Gran knows everything," Sirius started. "As for the rest of you… I'm sorry, but you cannot discuss this. If this gets out, most of the Order will be arrested for treason."

"Treason?!" Harry asked. "It's treason to fight against Lord Voldemort?!" Merlin, why does he keep saying that name?

A shiver passed through Ron, and he barely hid his frown. I bet Harry has the biggest balls in this room. Nay… I guarantee it.

"This is a very complicated situation," Pandora spoke in a light voice. "The World believes that the Dark Lord is gone. They need to believe it. The last war still haunts a lot of people, and if we tell them that another war is coming, they will refuse to believe us. Dumbledore has assured us that he's approached the right people within the Ministry, and they'll work with him to combat this threat. You all need to do your part-"

"Which is doing nothing," Harry frowned. "I want to speak to Dumbledore."

"Harry, please," Sirius sighed out. "Dumbledore will speak with you once you're back at Hogwarts."

"Why isn't Remus here?" Harry asked Sirius. "You keep saying that he has business at Hogwarts, but I know that's not true. Is he working for the Order right now?"

"He is," Sirius replied.

"So you've been lying to me this entire time," Harry glared at his Godfather.

"It's more complicated than that," Sirius said. "You know it is."

"It doesn't sound all that complicated," Harry countered. "Lord Voldemort is back, and instead of telling us, you've all kept us in the dark." This is turning into something else entirely.

"Theo," Ron whispered as he looked back, and he saw that Theo was looking rather dazed by all of this. "Hey… You all right?"

"You were right…" Theo mumbled, his eyes fixed at nothing. "The conversation we had yesterday… Oh, Gods…" Merlin, I've never seen him look like this before.

Ron took Theo by the arm, and he gently pulled Theo towards the nearest exit.

"Ron, we're not done yet," Molly said.

"We'll be right back, I promise," Ron said, and after Molly noticed Theo's pale complexion, she gave Ron a nod.

Without another word, Ron led Theo out into the backyard. The cold night air bit their skins, and Ron wondered if going up to his room was a better idea.

"Theo? What's wrong?" Ron asked, and then he realized how stupid his question was. "I mean, are you all right?"

"You were right…" Theo mumbled again, and then he let out a long breath as he rubbed his face. Merlin, he's reminding me of me before I have my panic attacks.

"Come and sit down," Ron gently tugged Theo to the bench.

Theo dropped onto the bench unceremoniously, and when he bent forward, Ron rubbed his back.

"I shouldn't be here…" Theo said to himself.

"What do you mean by that?" Ron asked as he sat down, his hand still rubbing Theo's back.

"My father… I need to go warn him…" Theo said, and Ron cringed a little.

"Mate… I don't want to say this, but your father…" Ron started, but when Theo looked at him with a genuinely scared look, Ron all but bit his tongue.

"Why would he let me come here, then?" Theo asked. "If You-Know-Who's back, then he'd never let me sleep in the same house as Blood-Traitors."

Ron said nothing about his comment, but judging from Theo's face, he didn't have to.

"I… I'm sorry…" Theo apologized. "I didn't mean-"

"It's okay," Ron said softly. "I understand what you mean."

"He… He wouldn't let me come here," Theo looked back ahead.

"Maybe he let you come here because he doesn't want you back home right now," Ron suggested, and Theo looked back to him. "Theo, I really fucking hate to say this, but your father is probably working with the Dark Lord."

"You don't know that," Theo said desperately, and then his face dropped. "But you were right about the war… I… I want to go home…"

"Theo, please," Ron did his best to hide his own panic. I can't let him go back to Nott Manor. "Listen to me… It's not safe back at Nott Manor. If your father is indeed working for You-Know-Who, then you'll be walking into terrible danger."

The back door suddenly opened, and when Ron looked to see who had come through, he saw Lord Greengrass and the Slytherin girls approaching them. What are they doing out here?

"Theo, are you okay?" Tori asked. "Father, do something."

"Theodore, look at me," Lord Greengrass kneeled down to look at Theo's face. "Take a deep breath, and steel yourself."

Theo gave a shaky nod as he drew in a deep breath. Lord Greengrass stood back up, and after sparing Ron a glance, he began pulling his left sleeve back.

"Father, what are you doing?" Daphne went wide-eyed.

"Theodore, look at my arm," Lord Greengrass said, and they looked at the nearly invisible Dark Mark on Lord Greengrass' forearm.

Tori and Tracey were both looking at it with a macabre sense of curiosity, while Daphne, Theo, and Ron felt disgusted at the sight of it. His Mark… That piece of shit.

"What are you doing?" Ron frowned. "Why are you showing that to him?"

"I'm showing you all what happens to people like us during wars like this," Lord Greengrass replied. "This Mark on my arm… It was forced on me by the Dark Lord himself, and once it was on my skin, I became his servant."

"Servant?" Tori couldn't believe that. "You?"

"Yes, Astoria," Lord Greengrass said grimly. "The Dark Lord doesn't have equals, and he never will. To him, we are all expendable servants. Those who served him had the right to live, and those who didn't… Well, they didn't live for long. In all of my years, I have never met someone like him. Many call me ruthless, but the Dark Lord… He is evil incarnate."

Lord Greengrass then covered his left forearm, an act that made everyone relax a little. Ron knew what his Mentor was doing; he was trying to scare them straight. And although he didn't appreciate Lord Greengrass' lack of empathy, he decided not to interfere.

"During the last war, Slytherin House was the Dark Lord's domain," Lord Greengrass told them. "You are all intelligent children, so you already understand that the Old Families who were loyal to the Dark Lord forced their own children into the ranks of the Death-Eaters. This war will be no different. Soon, many of your friends and peers will begin to follow him. Of all the children in this house, you five are in the most danger. Many will attempt to recruit you, while others will attempt to harm you." Not while I'm around. "It is crucial that you all stay together. The more united you are, the safer you will be."

Lord Greengrass then looked directly at Theo.

"Your father was not exactly a devoted follower of the Dark Lord during the last war," Lord Greengrass said. "He was loyal only to his wife, but when she was murdered by a Muggle, he became increasingly volatile. Now, he is one of the Dark Lord's most loyal servants."

Theo shrunk a little, especially because he knew that Lord Greengrass was telling the truth. Growing up, Theo had often heard his father boast about the Dark Lord's power, and about how much of a loss the Dark Lord's fall was to the Wizarding World. If all of this was really happening, then Theo knew where his father would stand.

"I'm his heir…" Theo muttered, his eyes darting towards Tracey for a moment.

"Yes, but you are not him," Lord Greengrass said. "If you follow in his footsteps, you will lose everything. Your freedom. Your future. Your humanity. The Dark Lord will take it all away from you. Your children will grow up serving him, and their children after that. The Nott Family will become a shadow of what they once were. Your father is driven by his grief and hatred towards the Muggles, but you still have a chance to be yourself."

Lord Greengrass then looked to the others, his eyes lingering on Tori. She looks so scared… Another thing that the Dark Lord will pay for.

"None of you deserve to grow up in a war," Lord Greengrass' voice softened. "Especially a war that was started before you were all even born. And yet, life has put you at the center of it. In the coming days, you will all be tempted with promises of wealth and power, but you must caution restraint. The Dark Lord's promises are like poisoned honey. It is all too alluring to have a small taste, but that taste is fatal. Once he has even an ounce of control over you, you are his pawn for the remainder of your life."

Lord Greengrass then looked to Ron.

"Ron, come with me for a moment," Lord Greengrass said, and Ron slowly stood up.

Without another word, Lord Greengrass began to head towards the garden.

"Stay together," Ron said to Daphne. "Go up to my room, and stay there."

"Okay," Daphne gave a nod as Tracey sat down beside Theo.

Ron followed his after his Mentor, and once he was past the fence, he spotted Lord Greengrass waiting for him by the hedge.

"What do you want to discuss, my Lord?" Ron asked as he approached the man.

"I want to know your thoughts on all of this," Lord Greengrass said, his eyes searching Ron's.

"My thoughts?" Ron asked.

"Unlike every other child in the house, you are eerily calm about all of this," Lord Greengrass pointed out. "At first, I thought that you were just holding yourself together, but now… Now, I feel like you are hiding something from us." Shit.

"Hiding things?" Ron asked. "I am not hiding anything. As I already said, I've been preparing for this day."

"I'm starting to see that," Lord Greengrass said. "You train yourself every day, right?"

"Yes," Ron replied. Something feels off here. His tone suggests that he's not exactly pleased with me.

"You know, Daphne often writes to me about you," Lord Greengrass started. "She is, of course, careful in keeping your confidence, but occasionally, I read something that catches my interest. You spend hours every day just practicing your Magic, which is not something that people your age do. At first, I simply thought that it was a part of who you are. That it was what made you so brilliant. But now I'm starting to think that your behavior is not natural."

"What is this?" Ron asked.

"Listen to me," Lord Greengrass said. "Buying the Quibbler to combat the Daily Prophet, which is run by prominent Families like mine… Setting up that Squib Orphanage, and now this Werewolf Sanctuary… Getting involved in Ministry affairs out of the blue… None of these actions make sense. Not unless you step back and look at what they're meant to achieve." Lord Greengrass then stood up straighter. "All of your actions are causing the Old Families problems. You are fighting against them, and have been long before this little meeting." Mother of fuck… Stay calm, Ron. Don't let him rattle you so easily.

"And then there is this alliance that you're trying to create," Lord Greengrass went on. "And your plans for Slytherin House. Why does a thirteen year old feel the need to bring together powerful people? Why is a boy trying to topple the current regime? And why is this same boy befriending and influencing young heirs all over Hogwarts? Do you see the pattern now, Ron? Because I do."

"Are you suggesting that I'm somehow playing a major part in this war?" Ron asked. "My Lord, I didn't even know about this war until-"

"You have become a good liar," Lord Greengrass cut in, he didn't sound very amused. "Tell me this, Ron… Why is Theodore Nott here? Why is he the only one of your friends that you've invited over?"

"I invited them all," Ron said. This is starting to annoy me.

"But you only spoke to Theodore's father," Lord Greengrass said. "Daphne told me about how you spoke to Cornelius Nott at the Gala. Of all of your friends, you only went out of your way to convince Theodore's father to let him stay with you. Why? Why stop him from going home in the first place? He could've visited you just as my daughters do. He has many fireplaces in his manor." Lord Greengrass then looked to the Burrow. "And then, there is Draco Malfoy… Your parents tell you to lie about his presence, and for the first time in forever, you don't question them whatsoever. I found that to be very out of character for you, even if Molly and Arthur counted it as a blessing."

"Do you have a point to make?" Ron asked coldly. "Or are you just going to keep rambling?"

"There it is," Lord Greengrass turned his gaze back to Ron. "The way your tone just changes whenever you don't like what you hear… You know what I think, Ron? I think you have tricked me. I think everyone who associates with you has been tricked by you."

"Tricked?" Ron's jaw clenched.

"You wear a mask to cover your true face," Lord Greengrass said. "My love for you blinded me to it until now, but I'm starting to see through the cracks. The funny, witty young wizard that everyone sees you as… That's not you. It might have been once upon a time, but not anymore. Now, you are something else entirely." You have no idea.

"I think you're grasping at straws," Ron said. "I get that you're upset with me for taking Daphne to France without your permission, but this is uncalled for. People who love each other don't treat each other like this-"

"Don't try to guilt me," Lord Greengrass said icily. "I assure you, it will not work."

"Then how about this?" Ron took a step forward as he turned and cracked his neck. "If you don't trust me, then we shouldn't work together. It's clear to me that you think quite lowly of me-"

"I never said that," Lord Greengrass said. "What I did say is that you're not who you pretend to be. Don't forget that you are courting my eldest daughter. If I feel like you're not doing right by her, then I will step in and end this relationship of yours."

"Not doing right by her?" Ron couldn't help but chuckle. "Do you hear yourself? Go over there and talk to her if you think that I'm not doing right by her. She'll tell you that I spend all of my time tackling issues that involve her. She'll tell you that I spend what little free time I have helping her with anything and everything. She'll tell you that I would never force her to be with me if she didn't want the same thing. She and I share a bond that is very special to the both of us, and as far as I'm concerned, you don't have any say in the matter. I might understand the Old Ways, but I don't give a fuck about them."

"I don't know who you are," Lord Greengrass said as his eyes met Ron's. "I don't even know who I'm to talking to."

"If that's true… If you really don't know who I am," Ron started as he stepped right into his Mentor's face. "Then maybe your best option is to tread lightly."

Ron then patted down Lord Greengrass' arms, making sure to straighten out any creases before he grabbed the man's biceps. His fingers squeezed tightly, and only when Lord Greengrass winced did Ron relieve the pressure.

"I love you," Ron whispered. "But if you get in my way… The Dark Lord will be the least of your worries."

Lord Greengrass said nothing, but Ron knew that his message had taken root.

"This is the part where you go back inside, and comfort your daughters," Ron let go of Lord Greengrass' arms. "Tori is particularly scared right now, and she needs you to be there for her. Go on."

His Mentor stared at him with a wary look, and then, he walked off without making a single sound. Once Lord Greengrass was out of sight, Ron cracked his fingers with his thumbs.

"A mask, he says," Ron twitched as he cracked his neck again. "Clever mortal…"

---

Monday 28th December, 1993 (The Burrow – Past Midnight)

Theo hadn't taken the news of the Dark Lord's return well, and Ron couldn't help but wonder if their recent conversation was to blame for Theo's fearful reaction. The others were also scared, but Theo had become a bumbling mess as the night had progressed. It had taken a lot of effort to get him to fall asleep, and now that he had, Ron found himself unable to join Theo.

His mind lingered on Lord Greengrass' words, and although he didn't want to admit it, the man's words had bothered him greatly. Sure, Ron wasn't the same happy-go-lucky kid that he used to be, but there were legitimate reasons for his change in behavior. Reasons that I can't discuss with anyone. What am I even supposed to say? 'Oh, there's a demon living in my head, and I'm pretty sure that I'm going to end up as its chew toy for eternity'? Once again, Ron was feeling alone, and annoyingly, rather depressed.

He knew that this was all in his own head, but no matter how many times he repeated that to himself, the negative feelings refused to leave him alone. It just all felt so… hopeless. Even pointless. I can't even clock out anymore because I know what's in store for me if I fail my Cycle. Merlin, I wish I could just stop existing. Ron massaged his bruised face, and then he slid out of his bed. After making sure that Theo was still asleep, Ron opened his trunk and collected Salazar's notes. I may not be able to help Pansy, or have Lord Greengrass' trust, but I can at least try and find some knowledge in these.

Without making a single sound, Ron slipped out of his room and made his way downstairs. He needed privacy for this, so he decided to use the bathroom on the first floor. Unlike the other bathroom, the bathroom on the first floor didn't have any loose floorboard that could give him away. Once he was safely inside, he locked the door and pulled his wand out. I'll use Lumos as my light. Deciding to try some Non-Verbal Magic, Ron flicked his wand as he thought of the intended Spell. His wand gave off a faint glow, and Ron smiled a little. It's not perfect, but it worked.

With everything ready, Ron sat down on the floor and spread the notes out. Which one first? I should look for dates and arrange them first. After a bit of organizing, Ron realized that these were diary entries of some sort. All right, Salazar… Show me what you were studying down in the Chamber.

I have done it… The Chamber has been completed, and now, I can plot my vengeance against the Mud-Bloods. (Great start… What a cunt.)

I have been counting how many of the Impure walk my castle, and it saddens me greatly to admit that the Pure are outnumbered three to one. This, however, is not as alarming as my most recent discovery. Many of the Impure are displaying far greater skill than I previously predicted. I can't prove it yet, but I know that they're stealing Magic from the Pure.

Ron put the parchment down and frowned to himself; Salazar was clearly a fucking loon. Deciding to power through the writings of a madman for the sake of knowledge, Ron skimmed through a couple more parchments. Other than Salazar's venomous hatred of the Elves, the 'Impure', and the Goblins, Ron found nothing of significance. But then, a single word caught his attention. Basilisk.

Over the last year, I have scoured all of Greece in an effort to piece together the life of my ancestor, Herpo the Foul. I must admit that what I found troubles me greatly. Herpo more than earned his name, and even I cannot justify some of the horrors that I've uncovered.

Using my ability to commune with serpents, I uncovered his ancient laboratory. Within this laboratory were horrors from my worst nightmares… Corpses with serpentine, scale-ridden skins incased in impenetrable jars. Souls trapped within black, living gems. Ancient Wards used to summon entities from hellish planes of existence.

I must confess that I regret not listening to Helga's council. I fear that I must break my promise to Rowena, and destroy this place instead of recovering its knowledge. But first, I must find a solution to my own tribulations. Within these walls lies the secret to the creation of the Basilisk. With such a weapon within my arsenal, I will cleanse my castle of the filth that currently invades it.

Ron quickly grabbed the next piece of parchment, his eyes glued to it almost instantaneously.

Five times I have tried, and five times I have failed.

The eggs are not hatching, as they should. Instead, they become crystalized due to the concentrated Dark Magic. (The eggs I found… I was right. They were indeed Basilisk Eggs.) Once crystalized, the eggs are nothing more than shiny decorations. I fear that my time within this Chamber is beginning to affect me. I hear whispers that no one else does, and the shadows dance whenever I take my eyes off them.

I will try one more time, and if I fail, I will find another solution.

Ron moved onto the next piece of parchment, his mind fixed on Salazar Slytherin. He drove himself mad, didn't he? Why? Why go that far just to hurt other people? It's not like they actually wronged him in any way, they were invited to study Magic by the other Founders.

My daughter grows larger by the day. Soon, I will need to feed her something more worthy for the Queen of Serpents.

As I watch her slither about the Chamber, I feel my heart swell with pride. Is this how it feels to have a child? When she turns her head in my direction, she is careful enough to keep her eyes closed. Just yesterday, she heard me complaining about the rats, and in order to please her father, she spent the entire night hunting them down.

I am beginning to neglect my students because I do not wish to leave my daughter's side. She wishes to see the outside world, and in my weakness, I promised to take her around the Black Lake if she behaved herself. She has become the most obedient of children as a result of my promise.

Ron was quite surprised to read something like this… It was almost as if the Basilisk loved Salazar. I can't forget that he could speak to it. Her. Speak to her. Of course they became close. I mean, they both spent so much time down in that shithole.

My journey into Greece continues to haunt me. What I learned within my ancestor's laboratory clings to my mind like some unshakable disease.

Herpo was not born a Parselmouth. No, he created Parselmouths. (What?) All of his experiments were conducted for a singular purpose. Immortality. (Oh, fuck…) In his notes, he explained his natural affinity for the Dark Arts, and I must confess, I am glad that his enemies destroyed him.

My ancestor created the very first Horcrux-

Ron quickly looked around to make sure that he was alone, and then, he brought the page close to his face without thinking. Horcrux… Fucking hell.

My ancestor created the very first Horcrux after years of experimentation. In his notes, he explained that a being not of this world showed him how to split his own soul. A being made of shadow and fire. I shudder to even think of this being from hell. Herpo used his forbidden knowledge to plant a sizeable part of his own soul within his most powerful creation: his Basilisk. (Mother of fuck! Is that even possible? What am I saying? Clearly it is!)

However, something happened that Herpo did not foresee. He forgot the most basic of principles. Magic requires equal exchange. In order to take, one must give. And in order to give, one must take. A part of the Basilisk's soul filled the emptiness left within Herpo, which in turn gave him the ability to speak with serpents.

He became the Lord of Serpents. (That's what the Entity calls the Dark Lord.)

This ability was passed onto his children, who passed it onto their children. I have always been proud of my ability to speak with serpents, for it is the reason why I have become such a renowned wizard. But lately, I regret sleeping with the various witches who piqued my interest in my youth. I know that I have continued Herpo's dark legacy, an act that disgusts me.

For the first time in his life, Ron felt that Salazar wasn't a complete loon. Maybe he was just a misguided fool who ran into knowledge that forever changed him. Knowledge that wasn't from this World… What 'being' showed Herpo how to create Horcruxes? I mean, the Universe is almost infinite, so it isn't crazy to believe that we aren't alone in it. Could Herpo really have met some creature from beyond our World? Maybe Astronomy isn't such a boring subject after all. Wait... What if this being was like the ones I'm being tormented by?

I have grown old, and feeble. Every year, more of the Impure flood my castle, and I am powerless to stop them. Even if I unleash my daughter upon them, time is on their side.

In order to combat my approaching death, I have decided to create a Horcrux of my own. (Oh, no… Don't tell me you went that far, you stupid fuck.) It is the only way to insure that the world remains Pure. I have chosen my prey, and I have sharpened my cursed dagger. Come nightfall, I will become immortal.

Ron turned the page in order to see if there was anything written on the back, and when he saw that there wasn't, he quickly grabbed the page that continued the story.

I could not do it. (Thank the Gods…)

She sat in my Office, an Impure girl of only twelve, but when I gazed into her eyes, all I saw was a familiar glint of excitement. She was one of Godric's students, and my invitation had filled her with joy that I am ashamed to describe. She wished to learn from me so she could become a Healer, as I once was. Her ambition was to help her fellow wizards and witches in these trying times.

I could not do it. I could not cut her life short to extend my own. I am weak, and old. My hatred has twisted me, and only now do I realize that I almost became Salazar the Foul. Perhaps Godric is right. Perhaps I have truly lost my way in this world.

Ron didn't know why, but he felt oddly glad that Salazar had realized the error of his ways. Most of all, Ron was glad that Salazar hadn't murdered an innocent girl in order to create a Horcrux. How would the Dark Lord react to this knowledge? What would Salazar say if I could tell him that his heir became the very monster that Salazar feared most?

I have decided to leave Hogwarts.

Rowena rarely leaves her tower. Godric avoids me whenever possible. And sweet Helga is heartbroken by our distance. We were a Family, and I finally understand that I am to blame for our current state.

The girl who I attempted to murder is still as driven as always, and without her knowledge, I have been keeping my eyes on her. She will become a fine Healer one day.

I am tired of hatred. I am tired of the nightmares that haunt me. I am so very tired.

Lately, I find myself thinking of my youth. Of the battles that Godric and I fought together. Of how I would heal my brother's wounds as he boasted of his prowess. I miss his laughter.

With my daughter's help, I have created a new wand. A wand with a singular purpose: Healing. With it by my side, I shall travel the World in the hopes of redeeming my soul. I will use it to heal all witches and wizards; their heritage will not deter me. Perhaps one day, I will meet the girl who inspired me to become a Healer once again. If I am so lucky, I will pass my knowledge onto her if she is ready for it.

I have corrupted everything that I once loved.

I am so tired.

Ron put the page down as he rubbed his forehead with his free hand. There was a lot of information that he needed to process. For one, a small part of Ron was now regretting what had happened to the Basilisk. He knew that he hadn't really played a part in the Basilisk's death, but from what he had just read, she wasn't always a monster. She had even helped Salazar forge a wand made specifically for healing others. All that time alone in the Chamber… She was clearly driven mad. And then, the Dark Lord found her. Ron picked up the final page, and he began reading through it.

I have finally mastered the ability to leave Hogwarts without being detected. (Wait… This is an old entry.)

Helga's Elves constantly leave the grounds without anyone's knowledge, and much to my astonishment, I have come to learn that their form of Apparition is vastly different from ours. It is Old Magic.

After nearly a year of studying their techniques, I have created my own form of Apparition, one that is not restricted by any limitations with the exception of distance. With this new ability, I will collect the materials I need to create my Chamber.

Much to Ron's frustration, the final page ended there. NO! What about the Spell?! Ron looked to the back, and when he saw that it was empty, he nearly punched himself in the head. Why?! This is exactly the sort of knowledge that I was looking for! Damn you, Fate! You bitch!

Once he was done throwing a tantrum on the bathroom floor, Ron gathered the pages and exited the bathroom. It's getting late, and I should at least try to get some sleep tonight. As he tiptoed upstairs, Ron thought on what he had learned from Salazar's notes. The eggs are useless, but this Cursed dagger… It has to be the one that I found. It's a shame that I couldn't recover any pages that explained its nature to me, but I reckon that there should be some people out there who can help me learn more about it. Maybe I can even have it fixed up? It'd be nice to have a weapon besides my wand. As for the eggs, maybe I can sell them as a collector's curio? Any extra bit of income is good for me in the long run. Oh, and I need to follow up on this Spell that Salazar mentioned. I'll start by talking to Marty about his Apparition Magic, and then build on from there.

Ron slipped back into his room, and he carefully deposited the notes inside his trunk. With that done, Ron walked over to the beds. Theo had pushed his blanket down to his feet, and judging from his curled up posture, he was freezing his arse off. Be careful, Ron, and don't wake him up. Ron grabbed the blanket, and he gently covered Theo's body. I hope he doesn't spend the rest of the Break in such a state.

"Goodnight, Theo," Ron whispered, and then he slid into his own bed.

Time passed by slowly, but Ron couldn't sleep. He just lay there for what felt like an eternity, but sleep never found him. Eventually, he sat up and rubbed his sore face. You can't even sleep, Ron… How useless can one person be? He looked around the room, and his eyes lingered on his pillow. Ron closed his eyes as he sat up with a straighter posture. Without a word, he levitated his pillow into the air. If I can keep this in the air for thirty minutes, then I can go to sleep.

---

Remus Lupin's POV

Monday 28th December, 1993 (Buckden Pike – Midday)

"Do we just drop in and say hello?" Tonks asked, which earned her a grunt from Alastor.

"If we get closer than this, they'll smell us coming," Remus told them.

"You sound quite worried, Professor Lupin," Sturgis said. "I thought you said that you knew the Alpha of this camp." Thaddeus… I haven't even sent him a letter in nearly five years.

"I haven't spoken to him in over four years," Remus replied, a hint of guilt in his voice.

"Why?" Tonks asked.

"Does that even matter?" Alastor frowned at her, and she simply rolled her eyes.

"Course it matters… Remus sounds bothered by it," Tonks countered. "So? Why haven't you spoken to him in so long?" She's very… open… about everything.

"I… I wanted to distance myself from them," Remus replied. "I wasn't big on staying with one pack for long."

"Didn't want to get attached?" Tonks asked with an understanding smile, and Remus shifted in his spot.

"It doesn't matter," Remus decided to change the subject. "We need a plan."

"A plan?" Sturgis asked. "Let's just go there and talk to them. If we're honest and upfront, they'll know that they can trust us."

"I smell a fellow Hufflepuff," Tonks laughed, and Sturgis joined her.

Alastor and Remus exchanged looks, both of them choosing to ignore the other two. I should've come alone. My kind isn't exactly friendly to outsiders, and since we showed up in force, they'll be far too wary of us.

"I reckon I should go in alone," Remus said to Alastor.

"Nonsense," Alastor denied his request. "If something goes wrong, you'll need someone watching your back."

"They'll never attack one of their own," Remus tried.

"Oh, are you a God now, Lupin?" Alastor all but growled. "You can divine the bloody future now, can you? Has it occurred to you that perhaps the Dark Lord has already visited your little friends?" Alastor then shook his head. "We go in together, or we go home. It's up to you."

"You can be very sweet, Sir," Tonks said from the background, and Alastor's face darkened.

"We'll go together," Remus said quickly, he didn't want an angry Alastor Moody on his hands.

"Then let's go," Alastor said as he began limping towards the far away hill.

To say that Remus was feeling anxious would be an understatement; he was absolutely terrified. Thaddeus had been good to Remus in ways that only Dumbledore had been, but when Remus had started feeling a growing bond between himself and the camp, he had abandoned them all in the dead of night without even saying goodbye. After the war… after what had happened to his friends… Remus had given up on companionship. He was afraid of it. But Thaddeus… He was too good to me.

"You're looking quite constipated," Tonks said from his right, and Remus broke out of his self-pity.

"Do I?" Remus asked, and she shot him a wide smile.

"Sirius did mention that you were the brooding sort, but I had my doubts," Tonks started. "Consider my doubts dashed to pieces."

"I have a history with these people," Remus kept his eyes forward. "A history that might negatively-"

"Snore," Tonks grinned, and Remus couldn't help but give her a dull look. "From what I'm seeing, it looks like you're afraid of something. Something that you blame yourself for." That is oddly… perceptive… of her. "And since you mentioned that you haven't spoken to these people for a long time, I'm going to wager that you have no idea how they feel about you."

"I… I don't…" Remus looked back ahead. Is this why Alastor took her under his wing? Maybe she's more than just a clumsy girl.

"Then what's the point of worrying?" Tonks asked him. "Whatever happened between you and this camp… It doesn't matter anymore. The World is coming to an end, and you're here to warn them of the coming danger. You clearly care about them, so isn't it time to face them head-on? They might surprise you, you know."

"Could it be that you're more than just a clumsy girl?" Remus teased, hoping to change the subject.

"Hey, I'm an Auror," Tonks' nose shot up smugly. "Well… An Auror in training… But still, I'll be an Auror in a couple of months. And I'm not a 'girl', I'm a woman."

"Oh, how ignorant of me," Remus chuckled at her 'offended' tone.

"Quite so," Tonks smirked.

"Will you two shut it?" Alastor shot a glare back at them.

"He's right," Remus whispered. "We should keep the noise to a minimum."

"He's just grouchy because we have to walk uphill," Tonks whispered with a carefree smile. "Wooden leg must be aching, you know."

Remus' lips twitched upwards, but he didn't dare laugh. Alastor has the hearing of a bat.

"How many people in this camp?" Tonks asked Remus.

"Last time I was here… Around twenty, or so," Remus replied.

"Wands?" Tonks asked.

"Wands?"

"If something goes wrong, then we need to have an exit plan," Tonks said, her mirth was suddenly gone. An Auror, indeed. "So? How many wands? What are their defenses like?"

"Only the adults have wands," Remus explained. "Thaddeus doesn't allow errant wands around the camp for fear of triggering the Trace. And those who do have wands aren't experts at using them. They didn't get an education like I did…"

"Seriously? You feel guilty because you went to Hogwarts, and they didn't?" Tonks asked.

"You don't know what it's like, all right?" Remus said, his tone coming out harsher than he intended.

"Sorry, you're right," Tonks quickly backpedaled. "I run my mouth too much sometimes."

"No… I… I'm sorry," Remus gathered up his composure. "I don't feel guilty for being allowed to go to Hogwarts. I just… You'll see when you see the camp. These people live hard lives, and many of the young ones don't understand why."

"They blame the outside World?" Tonks asked.

"They blame everything," Remus spoke from experience. "Wizards, Muggles, themselves… Thaddeus, and Alphas like him, do their best to give the young ones purpose, but more often than not, it doesn't matter much in the end. They run away in the night, and they get themselves into trouble."

"Sounds difficult," Tonks said with a sorry smile.

"Difficult is putting it mildly," Remus muttered under his breath.

"You're brooding again," Tonks nudged him, and he gave her a half-smile.

"Sorry," Remus apologized. "Guess Sirius knows me too well."

"Merlin, he never stops talking about you," Tonks smiled widely. Really? "Every second sentence out of his mouth is about Harry, and every third is about you."

"Stop," Alastor ordered as he came to an abrupt halt. "There's a barrier in front of us." There is? Ah, that eye of his… Seems like they've learned stronger Warding Spells since I was here.

"Relax," Remus stepped up to Alastor's side. "I actually taught them a lot about Warding Spells. They would never put up anything dangerous."

"Are you sure?" Sturgis asked.

"This area is used by Muggles for hiking purposes," Remus explained. "Let me have a look at these Wards."

After examining the invisible barrier with his own wand, Remus found himself smiling a little. They really have improved.

"Well?" Alastor asked.

"The Intruder Charm, the Muggle-Repelling Charm, Protego Totalum…" Remus listed. "Nothing dangerous. Just Wards needed to keep strangers out."

Without hesitating, Remus planted his left palm on the invisible wall in front of him. There, that should alert them about our presence.

"Why did you do that?" Alastor frowned. "Now they'll know that we're coming."

"We're coming to them as friends, Moody," Tonks huffed. "Just let Remus do the talking, yeah?"

"Podmore, keep your wand at the ready," Alastor ordered. "Same goes for you two lovebirds." Lovebirds?

Tonks didn't look very amused, while Remus ignored the grumpy old bastard. After a few minutes of waiting around, Alastor suddenly pulled Remus close.

"Two people are approaching," Alastor whispered. "A man, and a woman. They have wands."

"They're just here to check on the Wards," Remus explained. "What do they look like?"

"Like they need a bath," Alastor grumbled. Sort of like you, then. "The woman has short brown hair, and the man has a massive scar across his face."

"Tabatha and Bjorn," Remus remembered. "They're husband and wife, and I know them. Let me do the talking."

"Whatever," Alastor took a step back.

Remus stepped forward, and he waved at where he thought they could be. For a moment, nothing happened, but then, the invisible wall fell.

"Remus?" Bjorn stared at him. "Is that you?"

"Hello, Bjo-" Remus started, but the large man cut him off by pulling him into an organ rupturing hug.

"You're still alive, you bastard!" Bjorn laughed loudly, while Tabatha just stared at her husband in disbelief. He's… He's not angry with me for leaving? "Let me have a look at you!"

Bjorn studied Remus' jarred face, and then he patted Remus' arm with a little too much strength.

"Some of these are new," Bjorn pointed to the scar under Remus' chin.

"I see that you've also collected a few new ones," Remus looked at Bjorn's missing right ear.

"Ah, this one is from the wife," Bjorn laughed, which earned him a smack from said wife.

"Stop spreading that around, you fool," Tabatha said angrily. "People like to talk, and you're sullying your own wife's reputation." She then looked at Remus. "He lost his ear trying to fight off another Werewolf."

"You were attacked?" Remus asked.

"This was a while ago," Bjorn quickly banished Remus' worries. "You're finally home, Remus! Thaddeus is going to be over the moon!" Really? He's not angry with me?

"Why are you back?" Tabatha asked, and then she looked to the others. "Who are they? They don't smell like us."

"Forgive her wary nature," Bjorn chuckled. They haven't changed a bit. "We don't get many visitors. What are your names?"

"I'm Tonks," Tonks quickly replied, a big smile on her face.

"Sturgis Podmore," Sturgis replied in a polite tone. "A pleasure to meet you."

"A pleasure?" Bjorn chuckled. "Well, same to you, mate!"

"And you?" Tabatha asked Alastor. "You look worse than us."

"This is Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody," Remus introduced.

"The legendary Auror?" Tabatha cocked an eyebrow at Alastor. "Well… Never thought that I'd meet someone like you."

"Take us to your Alpha," Alastor ignored the jolly reunion. "We need to speak to him about something important."

"What Mr. Moody means to say is that your camp is in danger, and we're here to help," Sturgis said with a much gentler tone.

"Danger?" Bjorn asked as he looked to Remus.

"We should discuss this somewhere… safer," Remus looked around.

"Come in, then," Bjorn stepped aside.

"Bjorn-" Tabatha started.

"Look at them, love," Bjorn gave his wife a pleading look. "They've been traveling for a while by the look of it, and Remus is one of us… We can share a hot meal with them at the very least."

"We have our own foo-" Remus started, he didn't want to burden the camp with their presence.

"That'd be great!" Tonks beamed. Where are her manners?

"See!" Bjorn grinned. "They're hungry, and cold! C'mon, you lot! I'll take you to Thaddeus while Tabatha puts the Wards up again."

"Thank you for your kind hospitality," Sturgis gave Bjorn a grateful nod, but the large Werewolf just laughed at Sturgis' formal demeanor.

"You need a hand there, old man?" Bjorn asked Alastor, but one look from the Ex-Auror killed most of Bjorn's mirth. "Never mind, then…"

They began making their way up the hill, and Remus quickly put himself by Bjorn's side.

"It's great to see you again, Remus," Bjorn smiled at him. "Most of us thought that you'd… You know…"

"Ended up in Azkaban?" Remus provided.

"That, or wound up dead," Bjorn said. "I'm glad that you're not dead."

"Me too," Remus smiled a little. "How is the camp?"

"It's… gotten a lot bigger," Bjorn replied.

"Really?"

"Some 'legislation' got passed by the Ministry," Bjorn started. "You probably know more about it than I do… Anyway, Thaddeus got wind of it, and being who he is, he sent us out to find our 'errant brothers and sisters'." That does sound like him. "It wasn't hard to find 'em, by the way. Most of them were sleeping in gutters, or robbing Muggle stores for food and drink. Sad times, brother… Sad times."

"Yeah," Remus agreed.

"What about you?" Bjorn asked. "How are you surviving out there? Do you have a new pack?"

"No, I don't have a pack," Remus replied a little uncomfortably.

"Ever the lone wolf, eh?" Bjorn chuckled as he nudged Remus. Something like that…

"I'm a Professor now," Remus said, and Bjorn looked quite shocked. "At Hogwarts, that is."

"Really?" Bjorn slowly started to grin. "Well, fuck me bloody! Good on you, Remus! That old Headmaster of yours came through for you, did he?"

"He did," Remus smiled more fully.

"Good on him," Bjorn nodded fervently. "He sounds like a proper bloke to me."

"Not how I would describe him, but essentially, he is a proper bloke," Remus laughed.

"I'm guessing that no one else knows, though," Bjorn said as they neared the top of the hill.

"The other Professors do," Remus said.

"Oh… And they don't say anything?" Bjorn asked. Not all of them.

"They're all good people," Remus replied. "Most of them taught me when I was a cub, so they even look after me when I'm sick after the change."

"So you do have a new pack," Bjorn smiled rather proudly. "Good on you, Remus. I'm really happy for you."

As they reached the top of the hill, Remus was stunned into silence due to the size of the camp. Over a dozen tents were erected, and unfamiliar faces were everywhere. During Remus' time with the pack, he could barely call them a pack due to the lack of resources and people. But now… This was almost a tiny village.

"Pretty amazing, right?" Bjorn grinned smugly.

"How… When did you…?" Remus looked around with a dazed look. They have chicken coops, and they're even farming the soil somehow. "Bjorn… This is amazing…"

"Yeah, it is pretty great," Bjorn followed Remus' gaze. "Most of this is Thaddeus' doing, by the way. The old man's been relentless."

"Relentless?" Remus asked.

"Let's just say that he's aged… A lot," Bjorn replied. "He even got himself a pupil because he says that he's running out of time. It's… Gods, I don't know what we'll do when he's gone."

"Is he ill?" Remus felt a strong pang of worry.

"No, but watching over so many people… He's incredibly stressed," Bjorn replied. "Even though we're doing right for ourselves, he still worries about the future. You know how he is." Bjorn then shook off his melancholy. "C'mon, I'll take you to him."

Remus shot a look back as Bjorn moved forward, and he saw that his companions were similarly dazed by the size of the camp. Except for Alastor… He's got his hand in his pocket, no doubt ready to pull his wand out in order to fight. Remus gestured him to not look so hostile, but Alastor ignored Remus' advice. Tonks suddenly elbowed Alastor in his side, which earned her a dangerous look.

"Stop it," Tonks whispered almost angrily, her pink hair turning orange.

Alastor clenched his jaw, and then he slowly pulled his hand out of his pocket. He still has his staff at the ready… Whatever. Remus followed after Bjorn, and his companions followed after him. The camp was rather loud, and judging from the laughter of children, Thaddeus had outdone himself. This is almost unbelievable. How did he get the resources to pull this off? Where is the money coming from?

Eventually, Bjorn stopped in front of a familiar red tent, and Remus felt his legs turn to jelly. Merlin… I haven't spoken to him since I ran away. After everything he did for me, I couldn't even find the courage to say goodbye-

"Go on," Bjorn said. "He's not angry, mate… Go on. Speak to him while I help your friends settle in. He'll make you stay for lunch and dinner, you know that, right?"

"We'll be fine," Tonks whispered from behind him. "If he is angry, fall on your knees and beg."

Remus shot a look back, and he found her grinning at him. You know what? That's not bad advice. Remus drew in a deep breath, and then, he entered the tent. It wasn't a spacious tent, so Remus quickly found Thaddeus walking around with a book in his hands. The man had aged decades, and judging by his patchy, white beard, he hadn't shaved properly in days. He can't smell me? Even though I'm this close? Remus felt his stomach twist a little; Bjorn was right about Thaddeus stressing himself to death.

"Thad… Thaddeus?" Remus called, and the old wolf turned to face him.

For a moment, it felt like time had stopped moving. Thaddeus just stared at Remus as if he couldn't recognize him, but then, Thaddeus slowly began to smile.

"Remus… My dear boy," Thaddeus let out a choked laugh before he walked over and pulled Remus into a hug.

Remus had to pull himself out of shock in order to return the hug. He's all skin and bones…

"Thaddeus, I'm sorry for-"

"Don't be sorry," Thaddeus pulled back, and then he cupped Remus' face with his boney hands. "I never held your parting against you, my boy. We are who we are in this World, right?"

Remus felt rather humbled by his old friend's understanding, and all he could manage was a weak nod.

"Come, come," Thaddeus led Remus to a couple of stools. "Take a seat, and let me have a look at you."

Remus did as he was told, and he took the chance to inspect the old wolf as well. Thaddeus had indeed aged terribly, and his bloodshot eyes proved that he hadn't slept well in a long time. This, and the state of his health, made Remus' heart ache.

"You look strong," Thaddeus smiled proudly. "And healthy."

"And you… Thaddeus, what has happened to you?" Remus asked in a gentle voice.

"Time," Thaddeus didn't sound too bothered.

"You're not even seventy yet," Remus said.

"Really?" Thaddeus feigned confusion. "Because I feel like I'm seven-hundred."

Remus went to argue, but his mouth sealed shut when Thaddeus gave him an amused laugh.

"You still worry too much," Thaddeus said. "I am not too far gone just yet, my boy. I will admit that I've had better days, but I would not trade places with anyone for anything. You saw the pack, didn't you? We're finally becoming a community. An actual community."

"I… I saw it," Remus swallowed his growing worry. Now isn't the time, Remus. "How did you pull this off, Thaddeus? Where is the money coming from?"

"Odd jobs, and manual labor," Thaddeus replied. "We grow our own food, and Bjorn's group brings in the meat. Tabatha is still making cloaks out of pelts, so we're not dying of the cold. Oh, and the Wards you taught us have kept us hidden from the World."

"What else, Thaddeus?" Remus asked. "I know how these packs work… There is no way that the Ministry hasn't caught onto this. They keep track of our kind, and when we start disappearing, they follow the bread crumbs."

"Remus, we just met after years apart," Thaddeus smiled in a paternal manner. "At least tell me a little about your life before you start worrying over everything."

Remus went to say something, but the sound of someone barging into the tent stopped him.

"Good heavens…" Thaddeus eyed Alastor. "Is he a friend of yours, Remus?" Seriously! Why is he in such a damn rush?

"You can have your little reunion after our work is finished, Lupin," Alastor moved closer to them. "Time is of the essence, and I don't trust the whelp we left back at Headquarters." Who? Kurt? That boy is terrified of his own shadow.

"Headquarters?" Thaddeus looked to Remus. "What have you gotten yourself into, my boy? Are you in trouble? If so, you can stay here for as long as you need-"

"I'm not in any trouble," Remus said quickly. "It's… It's all of you who are in trouble…"

Thaddeus looked between Alastor and Remus, and then he adorned a more serious look.

"Talk to me, child," Thaddeus said. "Tell me what's happened."

---

One Hour Later

Remus knew that what he had just explained was hard to process, but the look on Thaddeus' face still tore him up. The old wolf was scared, and even though he hid it well, Remus could see anger behind his bloodshot eyes. Alastor was oddly silent now, and Remus figured that he was gauging Thaddeus' reaction.

"Thaddeus," Remus decided to break the silence.

"He's back…" Thaddeus rubbed his eyes with his palms. "Gods save us…"

Remus reached forward and took the old wolf's hands.

"He will come for this community," Remus said plainly. "I'm sorry, Thaddeus, but its time to leave this place behind."

"After everything we've sacrificed…" Thaddeus whispered, there was bitterness in his voice. "After everything we've endured…"

"I know," Remus whispered. "I'm sorry about this."

"Sorry?" Thaddeus looked at Remus. "No… No, you've done right by us." Have I, though? "I just… I need a moment to think, Remus. Please, go join the others for lunch. I need time to think."

Remus knew that arguing right now wasn't the right move, so he stood up and left the tent without another word. He hated being the one to bring this news to Thaddeus, especially because of how much effort Thaddeus had put into giving other Werewolves a home. This shelter that Ron's building… I have to convince Thaddeus to move his pack there. Not all is lost just yet.

"He didn't take it as well as I hoped," Alastor said from behind Remus.

"Look around you, Alastor," Remus sighed out. "This is heaven for people like me… I've taken that away from him within an hour."

"You didn't take away anything," Alastor said rather firmly. "You're just the messenger here, Lupin. You didn't bring that bastard back to life."

"Either way, they can't stay here anymore," Remus said, he still felt like shit.

"Something is off about this place," Alastor moved closer to Remus. "Can't you feel it?"

"Off?" Remus hissed.

"I get that you're empathic to their plight, but how are they even here?" Alastor whispered. "The Ministry would never allow this, and you bloody know it. Your old friend is hiding something from us."

The wolf part of Remus wanted to clock Alastor right then and there, but the human part had to agree that something wasn't right. Where was the money coming from? How were so many Werewolves in one place without the Ministry's knowledge? Something was off about this pack, and Remus couldn't ignore that.

"What do we do?" Remus whispered.

"For now, we play along," Alastor whispered. "Even with me by your side, we can't take on so many people at once. I've been counting, and they have over twenty wands in the camp." His eye really sees through everything, doesn't it? "It's a damn miracle that the Trace hasn't gone off yet."

The tent opened from behind them, and both Remus and Alastor turned to face Thaddeus.

"Still loitering about?" Thaddeus gave a weak smile. "Come… Let's get some warm food into you, Remus. You look weary."

"We should talk about-" Remus started.

"Please… Let's do that after," Thaddeus said weakly. "I want to show you something first."

---

Neville Longbottom's POV

Monday 28th December, 1993 (The Burrow – Afternoon)

Neville, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione were currently in the twins' room. Harry was still fuming from yesterday's conversation, which had devolved into Harry yelling at Sirius for being a liar. Hermione was currently pestering the twins as they worked to make Ron's Potions taste better. As for Neville; he was currently watching the arguments between Hermione and the twins unfold alongside a rather silent Ginny.

"I'm in Professor Snape's Potions Club," Hermione huffed, her hands finding her hips. "I know that I can help you with this."

"It's not a matter of 'if you can', but rather, a matter of that we didn't ask for your help," Fred said as he mixed the pink Potion. "Hermione, you're ruining our process."

"What process?" Hermione tried to look over their shoulders. "You're wasting the ingredients."

"No, we're not…" George sighed out. "Just stop bothering us, will you?"

"I can cut better than that," Hermione pointed out. "Let me do that, at least."

As Neville watched the back and forth between them, he couldn't help but be grateful to Ron. The twins had gone from being furious with the Trio to being as they always were. Sure, it was odd that they were so quick to forgive Neville and his friends, but when he thought about it, maybe they were never really angry with the Trio to begin with. Maybe they were scared for Ron, and in that fear, they had tried to find an enemy that they could punish. Now, they're trying to make Ron's Potions more bearable.

"Fred, try this," George handed Fred a vial of green Potion.

"Why is that green?" Hermione asked. "No! Don't just drink-"

Fred downed it in one go, and then he gagged loudly. Wow…

"What… the fuck… George?" Fred wheezed. "It tastes worse than before! What did you add to it?! Your own shit?!"

"Cherry syrup, and peppermint," George replied, he sounded almost defensive. "Can't be that bad, eh?"

"You try it, then," Fred frowned deeply.

"Why did you drink it?!" Hermione snapped. "You could've grown a third arm, or something!" Third arm?

"I bet the ladies would love that," Fred shot a grin at Neville, who did his best not to laugh.

"Imagine how good of a Beater you'd be," George sniggered.

"Oh, I'd be the best 'Beater' out there," Fred shot a wink at Hermione, who sneered in disgust. Hahaha! Don't laugh!

Neville bit down on his bottom lip, and his mouth constantly tried to turn into a wide grin. I bet Harry liked that one. Neville looked to his best friend, and much to his dismay, Harry was still glaring at the floorboards. Guess he didn't hear it…

"Try adding mandrake root," Hermione said.

"Ew… Why?" George asked.

"Because it's the core ingredient to the Pepperup Potion," Hermione replied haughtily. "It'll give the Potion a stronger kick."

"A stronger kick?" Fred asked.

"It'll help Ron feel stronger," Hermione explained.

"He asked us to improve the taste," George mimicked her tone. "Let's do that first, yeah?"

"Who cares about the taste?" Hermione huffed, she was clearly getting upset.

"Ron does," the twins said together.

Hermione and the twins started arguing again, but Neville's attention was drawn to Ginny, who had quietly moved to the door. Is she leaving? Ginny opened the door, and she left without saying a single word. Neville looked to Hermione and the twins, and then he looked to Harry. None of them even noticed. Deciding to do something about Ginny, who he saw as a genuine friend, Neville followed her out of the twins' room.

He knew that she'd never go upstairs, because that's where Ron and his friends were, and he also knew that she couldn't leave the house because of the blizzard outside. She's either gone to her room, or she's gone to the bathroom. Neville made his way down to the first floor, and as he approached her door, he heard her talking to someone. Is she talking to Luna? There was a loud hoot, and Neville realized that Helios was keeping her company. Should I really bother her? She hasn't spoken to anyone for most of the Break. What am I thinking? Of course I should talk to her. She's clearly not feeling happy, and with the Dark Lord back, she has to be scared.

Neville knocked on her door rather timidly, and after waiting for a few moments, he was rewarded with Ginny opening her door. Helios was perched on her shoulder, and he was glaring at Neville with ill intent. What's the matter with this owl? Why is it so angry all the time?

"Well?" Ginny asked, and Neville cleared his thoughts.

"I wanted to talk to you," Neville replied.

"Why?" Ginny asked slowly. "What do you want?"

"I… want to talk to you…" Neville replied awkwardly.

"You already said that," Ginny blinked at him.

"But you asked what I wanted," Neville said, and then he shook his head clear. "Sorry… I'm not very good at this sort of thing." Great start, Neville… Gran always did say that you had a tongue made of rusted iron.

Ginny slowly opened her door fully, and Neville moved inside. As Ginny closed the door, Neville looked around the rather girly room. I have no idea why her room is so pink. She says that it was her mother's doing, but she hasn't changed anything.

"You can take a seat over there," Ginny pointed to the chair by her study desk.

"Thanks," Neville walked over and sat down, while Ginny planted herself on the bed.

Helios was now glaring at Neville with murderous intent, and Neville shot the bird a nervous smile. Please don't hurt me with those sharp talons of yours.

"Helios, stop that," Ginny said, and the owl hooted defiantly. "I won't give you any treats if you behave like this."

Helios hooted and flew over to her bedpost, using it as his perch.

"I think you upset him," Neville said, and Ginny just shook her head.

"He's really sweet when no one is around," Ginny said. "He only gets like this when he wants to prove something."

Helios hooted angrily, and then he turned his head away from her.

"Fine, I'll ignore you, then," Ginny narrowed her eyes at Helios.

"You two are really close, huh?" Neville said, and Ginny shrugged.

"What do you want, Neville?" Ginny asked. "Did Hermione send you?"

"What? No," Neville replied. "No one sent me, Ginny… I just thought that I'd talk to you."

"About what?" Ginny asked. How do I say this without sounding like a little girl?

"I miss having you around," Neville replied, and Ginny just stared at him. Neville the princess… Gran should buy me a dress the next time we throw a party.

"Do you really?" Ginny shifted in her spot, and Neville was quite surprised by that. She doesn't sound upset. Did that really work like I wanted it to?

"We all do," Neville replied. "Harry, Hermione, and me… Ginny, when are you going to talk to us again?"

"Why did you not tell me about Ron?" Ginny asked as she looked down at the ground. "He's my brother, but you all hid his poor health from me…"

"He asked us not to tell anyone-"

"So first, you stalk him and learn about his illness," Ginny looked up with a frown. "And only then do you decide to listen to him? Why even go after him in the first place?"

"It's… It's a little complicated," Neville muttered.

"You wanted to talk, right?" Ginny asked. "Then talk. Was it really because Harry was jealous of Ron?"

Neville nodded rather weakly, he wasn't proud of Harry's terrible behavior. He's my best friend, but he was so out of line to go after Ron like that. I know he feels wretched about it now, but he refused to listen to Hermione and me for weeks on end.

"Harry can be stubborn," Neville started. "But he meant well, I promise. The moment he learned about Ron's health, he decided to not tell a single soul. He even promised himself that he'd never go after someone like that again."

"But Hermione Cursed him in order to read his book, right?" Ginny asked, and Neville gave another weak nod. "It's like I don't even know you guys… I… I always felt like I was stuck on the outside, just looking in all the time, and this… This confirms it… Were you lot always this dysfunctional?"

"The last few months haven't been our finest," Neville started. "Harry's struggling with… being Harry, and Hermione just missed her first friend so much that she thought of little else."

"And you?" Ginny asked. I'm just Neville. People hear me, but they don't listen. I might as well be a shadow.

"I kept failing to bring us together," Neville replied with a sorry smile. "I tried my best, but it wasn't enough."

He had no idea why Ginny hadn't tossed him out of the room yet, but he figured that she was starting to feel rather lonely due to her self-isolation.

"Everyone keeps saying that you had nothing to do with what happened with Ron," Ginny said, and Neville wasn't so sure about that.

"Last year, I was the one who convinced Hermione and Harry that Ron was the Heir," Neville admittedly shamefully. "So I'm not so innocent in all of this. Everything that's gone wrong since then… It was because of me. I started it all."

"Technically, I started it all," Ginny muttered as she rubbed her left forearm.

"Why do you do that?" Neville asked before thinking.

"Do what?" Ginny asked.

"Rub your arm so firmly," Neville replied, and Ginny went a little wide-eyed. Did I say something wrong? "Sorry… You don't have to tell me. It's not my business."

"No, it's not," Ginny said curtly as she stopped touching her left forearm.

Silence fell upon them, and Neville felt like the World's biggest moron for bringing up such a stupid thing. I should say something before she sends me away. I might not get another chance like this.

"It wasn't your fault," Neville blurted out.

"Yeah… It was…" Ginny whispered.

"You didn't know what that Diary was, Ginny," Neville decided to man up a little. "How could you have? Harry and I had it in our possession for a bit-"

"Until I stole it," Ginny cut in. "I wasn't… I wasn't completely gone, you know… I didn't want anyone to know that I was behind the attacks. I didn't want to get into trouble. You have no idea how selfish I was…"

"You were scared, and alone," Neville leaned forward. "Merlin… In my first year, I could barely raise my voice. You were being attacked by the Dark Lord himself."

"Tom," Ginny looked back down, her voice was almost fearful. "His name is Tom…" I don't like how familiarly she speaks of her attacker. That can't be healthy. Wait… Did she say 'is'?

"Ginny… You were a victim, just like the people who got attacked," Neville said.

"No, I wasn't," Ginny shook her head. "I was the attacker, Neville… I remember most of my attacks… I did so even before I lost all of my control. I was selfish, and I hid the truth until it was too late. Ron… Ron had the whole school turn on him, and I actually felt glad that I was in the clear." Really? Why? "It wasn't until Tom wanted Ron that I tried to resist-"

"Wanted Ron?" Neville blinked. "Wait… What do you mean by that?"

"He wanted to hurt Ron," Ginny face twisted as she began sniffling.

Neville quickly moved to her side, and he put his arm around her shoulders. Helios lost his fake anger, and he tried to get her attention by flying onto her lap.

"Talk to me," Neville whispered. "Tell me why he wanted to hurt Ron."

"Ron survived You-Know-Who…" Ginny all but whimpered. "Tom was so furious when I told him, but I had no idea why… Looking back, I think I understand now…"

"Did he try to attack Ron through you?" Neville asked. How long was the Dark Lord trying to petrify Ron for?

"Not at first," Ginny sniffled. "At first, he wanted to take Ron away… He wanted to walk in Ron's skin, as he walked in mine…"

Neville couldn't stop himself from shuddering; Ginny's words had definitely rattled him.

"But you resisted," Neville swallowed thickly. She somehow resisted the Dark Lord himself… Bloody hell… I don't know what to even think about that.

"I threw the Diary away…" Ginny nodded weakly as she cleared her eyes with her sleeve. "In Myrtle's bathroom…"

"Where we found it," Neville realized. "You saw us talking about it in the common room, and so you stole it back."

"He was so angry… with me…" Ginny coughed out. "He hurt me… in my sleep… He made me cut…"

She broke into loud crying, and Neville felt like the worst person alive for making her relive all of that.

"It's okay," he said gently as he hugged her from the side. "It's over now, Ginny. Tom is gone, and he can't hurt you."

"I wish I never went to Hogwarts," Ginny cried. "Everything has gotten worse… and worse…"

"Things will get better, I promise," Neville spoke as softly as he could. "You're not alone at Hogwarts, Ginny."

"Yes, I am…" Ginny started shaking. "I don't…have… a single friend…"

"You have me," Neville tried, but Ginny just shook her head. Stop being such a pushover, Neville. Step up like Harry and Hermione always do. "You do have me, Ginny. If we weren't friends, then I wouldn't be here, would I? You're not alone at Hogwarts, or anywhere. You have a great Family, and you have three friends who miss you. And Luna… You have Luna as well."

"She doesn't even talk… to me…" Ginny made a sound that made Neville's stomach drop, and Helios hooted sadly as he bumped his head against her stomach. "She prefers Astoria… over me…"

"We both know that Luna doesn't think like that," Neville said. "I don't know why she's not talking to you, but I've seen her shooting looks at you constantly."

"Really?" Ginny leaned into his hug.

"Really," Neville said. "You're not alone, and you'll never be alone. I know that we're not exactly close, but I promise, I'll keep being your friend. No matter what."

---

Daphne Greengrass' POV

Monday 28th December, 1993 (The Burrow – Afternoon)

Daphne was generally a very rational person. Well, she at least believed herself to be one. So when Ron was going on and on about some coming war in the hopes of making them all join his training sessions, she genuinely believed that her boyfriend was being irrational. But now… Now he was the rational one, and Daphne had no idea what to think anymore.

Ron's 'predictions' had come true, and in hindsight, some of the things that he often said made a lot of sense now. He had indeed faced the Dark Lord in his first year, so he was right to suspect that the Dark Lord could one day return. Furthermore, Ron had figured out that when the Dark Lord did return, many of the Old Families would flock to his side once again, which is why Ron was working to undermine them. She didn't want to admit it, but she was genuinely amazed by how far Ron could think. It was almost… unbelievable.

Unlike most people, Daphne understood that Ron wasn't exactly a prodigy. He was quite slow, if she was being honest, but his quick wit and ability to plan ahead were undeniable. And yet, something didn't sit well with her. Whenever Ron spoke of the war to come, his tone suggested that he was just guessing, but when Daphne analyzed his actions, she realized that Ron operated with decisiveness that could only come from a place of absolute certainty. Ron hadn't predicted the war, he knew about it well before the adults had said anything.

Daphne moved her gaze towards Theo, who was quietly reading a random book on Herbology. He's still not speaking to anyone. Daphne then looked to Tracey, who was listening to her Walkman all by herself. She's just as scared as I am. Daphne's gaze moved onto Luna and Astoria, both of who were painting their star charts in absolute silence. Tori spent most of the night with mother and father. And Luna… I haven't seen her look so distant before. Daphne's eyes finally landed on Ron, who was doing his pushups with a fierce look on his face. There's no fear in him… He's… He's just the same as he was before the adults spoke to us.

Ron hopped up to his feet, and he stretched his back. Daphne heard Ron's back and shoulders crack as he groaned loudly, breaking the silence in the room. No one paid him any mind, but Daphne's eyes were glued to him. How does his mind work? Does he just do whatever feels right? No… Not anymore. All those times when I thought that he was just brooding, he was clearly thinking of things far beyond our imagination. All his training… All his actions… All of them show that he's been getting ready for something. I mean, he gets diagnosed with Brain Damage, but instead of resting like some normal person, he starts working harder than ever.

Ron moved towards the window, and Daphne averted her gaze. He lingered by the window for a bit, and then, he clicked his tongue.

"Damn this blizzard," Ron said. "I was looking forward to unpacking the P-12 today." He just had surgery, but he still won't relent. Why? What's he thinking right now?

Ron then moved towards Theo, who looked up from his book.

"You all right?" Ron asked, and Theo gave him a weak smile.

"Staying busy…" Theo replied, and Ron patted his shoulder.

"If you want to talk, I'm here," Ron said, and Theo gave him a nod. I wonder what they talked about after Ron was done screaming at us.

Ron's eyes drifted towards Daphne, and she quickly looked back to her romance novel. He caught me staring… Damn. Ron said nothing, and a part of Daphne was disappointed with that. They hadn't really spoken since his angry outburst, and Daphne had promised herself that she wouldn't approach him until he apologized to her and the others. I love him, but he can't treat us this way. We're not his punching bags. Without saying anything, Ron moved towards the exit. Where's he going? He can't be thinking of going outside, could he?

Ron stopped and turned around suddenly, which caught everyone's attention.

"Theo, Tracey, Daph…" Ron started. "I'm sorry for what I did… I swear on my Magic, I'll never speak to any of you like that again. Ever. None of you were at fault for anything… It was all me."

Tracey pulled her earphones out, while Daphne and Theo lowered their books.

"What did you do?" Tori asked as she looked around the room. He apologized… Finally.

"I failed to see that I don't have a monopoly over worrying after loved ones," Ron replied, his eyes moving towards Daphne. "I was self-absorbed, and I failed to see that my other friends needed me as well. I'm sorry."

Tori and Luna looked quite confused, but Daphne felt something soothing blossom in her chest. He found his way back like he always does. Good. I'm still not ready to forgive him, but he knows that he was in the wrong. That has to count for something.

"We've got bigger problems now…" Tracey spoke up. "Don't worry about it, Ron."

"That doesn't excuse my behavior," Ron gave Tracey a sorry smile. "I'll try harder to control my anger from now on, I promise."

With one last look at Daphne, Ron left the room.

"What did Ron do?" Luna asked Daphne. "Did he treat you all poorly?"

"He did," Daphne replied as she raised her book again.

"Shouldn't you go talk to him, then?" Tori asked.

"I will," Daphne replied. "But not yet." He called me a useless piece of shit… I might miss talking to him terrible, but I am also the heiress of the Greengrass Family. I will not be spoken to like that again, especially not by someone as dear to me as Ron. Until he comes to me himself, I will stand my ground. And in the meantime, I'm going to figure out why Ron was so certain about the war.

---

Remus Lupin's POV

Monday 28th December, 1993 (Buckden Pike – Night)

"She's a friendly one," Tabatha said, and Remus nodded his agreement.

They were currently watching Tonks morph her features in order to entertain the children, and judging by their happy smiles and laughter, she had made fans for life.

"She's not going to tell anyone about this place," Remus assured Tabatha, who was the mistrusting sort.

"Tonks, and your friend Sturgis… They're good people," Tabatha said. "That Moody fellow, though… There's hatred in him. Deep hatred, Remus."

"I know," Remus said. "But Alastor would never aim that hatred towards the innocent. No, his hatred is reserved only for Dark Wizards."

"Dark Wizards…" Tabatha whispered to herself, and then, she looked Remus in the eyes. "Why are you here, Remus? Why is the old man so worried?"

"I think it's best if he tells you himself," Remus replied.

"We're going to lose this place, aren't we?" Tabatha asked, and Remus felt his throat close up. "I warned them… I kept warning them, but they didn't listen." Warning them?

"What did you warn them about?" Remus asked. "Tabatha… Why do I get the feeling that something isn't right here?"

"Because something isn't…" Tabatha looked distant all of a sudden. "Remus… You should take your friends and leave."

"Why?" Remus asked. "Talk to me, Tabatha. Tell me what's wrong."

Tabatha looked back to Tonks and the children, but Remus kept his gaze fixed on her. She knows something, but she won't tell me. She'll never betray the pack.

"It was good while it lasted," she suddenly said, a sad smile on her face. "Bjorn's coming over right now, so I'd better get back to my watch."

"He is?" Remus looked around.

"Your senses have grown weak," Tabatha said, and Remus couldn't really disagree. "Too many fine meals up at Hogwarts, eh?"

"Too many Spells to the face," Remus joked weakly.

"You should leave," Tabatha whispered as she turned to leave. "You won't like what you find out if you stay here."

Remus watched her leave, and as he heard Bjorn's footsteps get closer and closer, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Her words had only proven to him that something was horribly wrong about this camp, and even Moony was urging him to leave.

"The old man wants to see you," came Bjorn's voice, and Remus turned to face him. "Says that 'he's ready', or something."

"He's in his tent?" Remus asked.

"Yeah," Bjorn replied as he looked over to the laughing children. "Fine lass. Not many witches would spend their time entertaining wolf children."

"Where are Sturgis and Alastor?" Remus asked.

"With the old man," Bjorn replied. "Your glass-eyed friend is a bit clingy… Plus, he's scaring people with his behavior, so the old man is keeping him close."

"I'll go and talk to Thaddeus," Remus said, and Bjorn gave him a nod.

"I'll see you in the morning?" Bjorn asked.

"Morning?" Remus cocked an eyebrow. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Oh… Me and the lads hunt at night…" Bjorn replied, and Remus could tell that he was lying. Play along.

"Good hunting, then," Remus said, and Bjorn gave him an almost relieved smile.

"Don't leave without saying goodbye this time, you prick," Bjorn patted Remus' arm. "Or I'll come down to Hogwarts in order to cuff you over the head."

With that, Bjorn walked off towards the newer tents. Remus watched him leave quietly, and once he was out of earshot, Remus looked to Tonks.

"Tonks," Remus called, and she looked to him with a duck's bill for a mouth. "Thaddeus wants to talk. Let's go."

"Aw!" the children whined.

"Do you have to leave?" a little girl tugged at Tonks' sleeve.

"Sorry, my little pumpkins," Tonks said after fixing her face. "I'll show you more faces at breakfast, yeah?"

The children agreed hesitantly, and Tonks shot them a wink before she ran up to Remus' side. Remus began walking towards Thaddeus' tent, and Tonks shot him an odd look.

"What is it?" Remus asked.

"I've been thinking…" Tonks started, and then she looked around for eavesdroppers. "Something isn't right here, Remus." She's caught on too, then. "The Ministry keeps tabs on Werewolves, I know that from my time in the field. It's a wonder that the Ministry hasn't cracked down on this place yet, and I'm starting to think that your friend Thaddeus is the reason for it. The children told me that many of the adults, and all the young lads, leave at night, and they don't return until the morning."

"What else?" Remus asked.

"They said that the adults come back covered in soot, and grime, and sometimes, blood," Tonks whispered. Blood? "They also told me that the young lads are getting sick, and that two of them have already died." Died?! Thaddeus… What have you gotten yourself into?

"Sturgis and Alastor are with Thaddeus right now," Remus said. "Keep your wand ready, Tonks. If something goes wrong, we'll have to fight our way out of here."

"Fight?" Tonks didn't look too pleased. "Remus… There are children here."

"We'll be careful," Remus assured her. "Just watch my back, and I'll watch yours."

"There are Anti-Apparition Wards up," Tonks said. "Did you teach them that?"

"No, I didn't," Remus replied as they neared Thaddeus' tent. "Be ready for anything."

"You too," she whispered.

Remus entered the tent first, and Tonks followed in after him. Sturgis and Alastor were speaking with Thaddeus about Fenrir Greyback, and the look on the old wolf's face gave away his fear.

"No more delays, Thaddeus," Remus said as he walked over to the three men. "It's time we talk about what we came here to talk about."

"I cannot join you," Thaddeus said, and Remus felt rather disappointed.

"Sir, please," Sturgis implored. "Men like Greyback will approach you soon, and they will not give you a choice."

"They'll cut your throat," Alastor added. "And then, they'll take everyone here and put them to work." Alastor then sneered at Thaddeus. "Just like you put your people to work." Huh? "Only this time, you won't be serving Goblins. You'll be serving You-Know-Who."

"Serving Goblins?" Remus asked, while Thaddeus let out a shaky breath.

"How did you find out?" Thaddeus asked Alastor.

"Nothing escapes me," Alastor pointed to his Magical Eye. "I saw the mining tools, and the letters with Gringotts' sigil on them. You're making the able-bodied men and women work in their mines. That's where the money comes from, and that's why you haven't been hunted down by the Ministry."

"Working in Goblin mines, Thaddeus?" Remus was rather taken aback. "How? Why?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Alastor asked Remus. "Your old friend here has been selling his pack to the Goblins in order to avoid persecution. His people do the manual labor, and the Goblins bribe the right people in return."

"Wait…" Tonks spoke up. "Since when do Goblins hire humans to work in their mines?"

"They don't," Alastor replied for Thaddeus, who was now staring at the ground. "Judging from the state of this place, they don't pay you all that much. I'm guessing that most nights, you manage to make a few Knuts at most. You're their slaves, right? That's how this place keeps running. This isn't a community at all… This is a bloody slave pen." No… Thaddeus could never-

Remus' thoughts stopped as he looked upon his old friend, who looked broken beyond repair.

"What choice do we have?" Thaddeus spoke to the ground.

"Any choice is better than slavery-" Remus felt rage course through his veins.

"Look around you!" Thaddeus shot up to his feet, his old face twisted from anger and sorrow. "Look at how we're forced to live, Remus! Most of our people starve to death, while others become thieves and rapists! That's what the outside World has reduced us to!" Thaddeus suddenly swayed from side to side, and Sturgis quickly helped him back onto the stool. "When I heard about the Ministry's Legislation against us… I tried to help… I tried my best… But then, that Umbridge woman showed up with Ministry Officials. She threatened to have us locked away for 'conspiring against the Statute of Secrecy'… Can you believe that? We weren't hurting anyone. We were just trying to stay together because the rest of the World doesn't want us…"

Remus felt his flash of anger fade away, and he could do little but stand there and listen.

"The camp was failing, Remus," Thaddeus shook his head. "People were starving, and the Ministry was threatening to use violence… We had nothing, and no one. Not until he came to us."

"He?" Alastor asked. "Who came to you?"

"Robert Bulstrode," Thaddeus replied, and the Order members exchanged looks. Why would a Death-Eater approach Werewolves?

"When?" Remus asked. "When did he come to you?"

"In July," Thaddeus replied. So before the Dark Lord's return to England. That means that they haven't been recruited yet. "He offered us a deal… A way out."

"He sold you to the Goblins, didn't he?" Tonks asked, she sounded quite shaken.

"They opened a mine nearby, but it's on Muggle land," Thaddeus replied. "In order to avoid prying eyes, they needed silent workers… Workers who didn't have any power, or a connection to the Wizarding World. Bulstrode was no doubt paid a great sum of money by them for his troubles, and we found a way to survive. The Ministry Officials haven't returned since."

"Two young men have died, Thaddeus…" Remus felt like he had been kicked in the head. "Your own pack…"

"I begged for medicine, but the Goblins… They threatened to abandon us if we made requests of them," Thaddeus covered his face with his frail fingers. "And now he is back… Gods help us all…"

Silence fell in the tent, and Remus found that he could no longer stand. He planted himself on the free stool, his heart feel heavy for his kind. Remus had always despised his condition, and by extension, himself, but he could never bring himself to despise others like him. Unlike them, Remus had been fortunate, and he knew it all too well. He had had an education, friends, and no matter how bad things got, he had connections with people who cared for him. Thaddeus, and the people in this pack, didn't have those luxuries. They only had each other, but now, even that was threatened. There's still one last hope for this pack. Ron.

"Thaddeus, take a look at this," Remus pulled out Sirius' letter from his robes. I'm glad I brought this with me. "Read it, please. There's still hope for this pack."

"Is this from Dumbledore?" Thaddeus slowly took the letter. "Remus… I don't want this pack to fight-"

"This letter is from my friend; Sirius Black," Remus explained.

"Sirius Black?" Thaddeus asked. "The same Sirius you told me about when you first came to me?"

"The very same," Remus replied. "Read the letter, please."

Thaddeus hesitantly began reading the letter, and as time passed, his face showed his utter disbelief.

"What's it say?" Tonks asked. "What did Sirius write to you about, Remus?"

"Is this…? Is this really true?" Thaddeus muttered, his eyes rereading the letter over and over again.

"Thousands of Galleons, and a massive farm," Remus nodded. "A real Sanctuary for our people, Thaddeus. It's really happening."

"What?" Sturgis and Tonks looked quite surprised, while Alastor read the letter with his Magical Eye.

"Who's making this Sanctuary?" Sturgis asked.

"The Fawleys, the Longbottoms, the Greengrasses, Sirius, and Ronald Weasley," Remus replied. "Ronald is the one who came up with the idea, and he's brought together some of the most powerful people in the country to make this happen."

"Why?" Thaddeus asked, and everyone looked to Remus. "I've read about this boy… But why is he trying to help us? Is he one of us?"

"No, he's not," Remus shook his head. "But from what I've seen, he doesn't care much for things out of people's control. He… He figured out that I was a Werewolf all on his own, and he didn't even seem to care about it. He said that I was good to him, and so he saw me as his Family."

"Really?" Tonks asked. "He said that?"

"Who is this boy, Remus?" Thaddeus looked quite taken aback.

"A close friend," Remus smiled a little, and then he pointed to the letter. "That right there is the solution, Thaddeus… Not whatever this is. I'm not saying that you didn't try your best for our people, because I know you did… I know just how much you care. Ron also cares, and he's started something that can change so many lives for the better."

"What does he get out of this?" Alastor asked.

"Nothing," Remus replied. "He wants to do good things for other people, and after learning about the hardships that we face, he went out of his way to begin this project. Thaddeus, you don't have to join the Order-"

"Remus…" Alastor grumbled.

"Don't, Mr. Moody," Sturgis whispered.

"You don't have to fight," Remus went on. "The young ones out there don't have to fight. Even if you all say no to the Order's call, I'll still talk to Ron for you. He'll help you without a second thought, I just know it." Knowing him, he'll come running down here to find this pack.

Thaddeus slowly looked back down at the letter, and Remus knew that he was seriously contemplating Remus' offer. He has no other choice, and he knows it.

"A child did all of this?" Thaddeus couldn't help but ask.

"The same child freed my brother Sirius from Azkaban," Remus replied. "Ron is unlike anyone that you'll ever meet, I swear it."

"How… How long?" Thaddeus asked. "We don't have much time left, Remus… This offer, as amazing as it is, won't matter much if we keep going like this."

"I'll talk to him," Remus said. "Pack up this camp, and start moving away from Buckden Pike. Get yourselves away from the Goblins, and stay hidden from the Ministry. If you can give me some time, I can urge Ron to speed up this project of his."

"And he'll do that?" Thaddeus asked.

"In my heart, I know he will," Remus replied. "You've done so well in bringing so many of our people together, and if you take this one last leap of faith, it will all pay off. They'll have homes, food, and maybe even an education. A real life, Thaddeus… A future."

Thaddeus' grip tightened on the letter, and he gave Remus a weak nod.

"Tomorrow night…" Thaddeus started. "We'll move away from this place."

"Do you have an owl?" Remus asked, and Thaddeus shook his head.

"We only receive letters, we don't send them," Thaddeus replied.

"I can get one for you," Tonks volunteered. "A Ministry trained owl, that is. There are none better."

"If you can keep me posted of your whereabouts, we can outmaneuver the Ministry and the Goblins," Remus said. "Move in small groups, and stay away from civilization."

"Are you leaving?" Thaddeus asked. "Remus… Stay until morning. Help me sell this to the pack. They don't know this Ronald Weasley, and I need you to tell them about him. Just as you've told me."

"He's right," Tonks said. "The little ones really love this place, and they won't want to leave unless the adults force them."

"All right," Remus agreed. "I'll help you sell this, but Thaddeus… You have to promise me that you'll bring the pack to Ron. He might not be one of us, but don't let that deter you. With the Dark Lord returning to power, it's only a matter of time before Fenrir starts approaching the other camps. We need to get to them first. As many as possible."

"We'll meet as many on the way down as possible," Thaddeus promised. "Thank you, Remus."

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Tuesday 29th December, 1993 (The Burrow – Early Morning)

Ron's eyes opened slowly, the first light of a new dawn was almost blinding. Ugh… What time is it? Ron sat up, his half-closed eyes traveling to his Rolex. He was still wearing his clothes from last night due to passing out from exhaustion. Merlin… It's so early. I only got a couple of hours of sleep. His body felt lethargic, and the back of his skull was aching terribly.

"You're finally awake," came a rather chipper voice, and Ron looked towards Theo.

Shockingly, Theo was still asleep. What the…? Ron slowly looked towards his door, and what he saw froze his blood. An older version of himself was leaning against the door, his crisp black suit making his sapphire Ravenclaw brooch pop out. Ron just stared at his older doppelganger; it was like his motor skills had stopped functioning.

"What's the matter, handsome?" Ravenclaw Ron asked with a cheeky grin.

"You… You… Talking to me…?" Ron stammered, his eyes widening with each word. What is happening…?

"Well, I'm not talking to the sleeping prince to your left," Ravenclaw Ron's grin widened, and in a rather creepy fashion, his left eye twitched uncontrollably. "C'mon, Ron. Hop out of bed, and let's go for that morning run. It's not like you're going to get much sleep anyway, right? Might as well make the most of your day."

Ron slowly looked towards Theo, who was still soundly sleeping.

"Is… Is this a dream…?" Ron slowly looked back at his clone. "You're dead…"

"Dead?" Ravenclaw Ron sniggered like a child. "What makes you say that? Words can hurt, Ron, you should be more careful with them."

Ron shot out of his bed and reached for his wand, but it zoomed out of his reach just as he neared it. Ron looked towards the door, and he saw that his clone was fiddling with his wand.

"Hmmm," Ravenclaw Ron hummed, and then he bit the tip of the wand. "Phoenix Feather Core, Cypress, and fourteen inches… Not bad. Not bad at all. I love the flowery patterns on here. Great attention to detail."

Ravenclaw Ron then aimed the wand at Theo, and Ron all but dove in the way.

"DON'T HURT HIM!" Ron yelled as he shielded his sleeping friend.

Theo shot up with a scared look, and Ravenclaw Ron burst into laughter.

"Ron?!" Theo looked around in a sleepy panic, and Ron quickly turned to face him. Fuck! "What are you doing?"

"I… Uh…" Ron mumbled, and then he quickly turned back around.

There was no one by the door, but Ron's wand was left discarded on the floor. What…? What in… the fuck…? Am I going insane? He was right there… I saw him. He spoke to me.

"Ron?" Theo shook Ron lightly. "Are you having nightmares again?"

"Night… mares…?" Ron slowly turned around, and Theo adorned an understanding look.

"We can hear you at nights, mate," Theo said as he rubbed his eyes clear. "We just don't say anything."

"Some friends, eh?" came Ravenclaw Ron's voice, and Ron looked to the study desk.

His doppelganger was sitting on the table with his legs crossed, a rather amused smile on his face. Once again, Ron could do little but stare at his own twisted reflection. Theo followed Ron's gaze, but when he saw nothing, he shook Ron again.

"Ron, you're scaring me," Theo whispered. "Hey… Look at me. What's wrong? What are you looking at?"

"Perfection," Ravenclaw Ron grinned maniacally. "Oh, Ronnie… We're going to have so much fun together."

---

AUTHOR'S NOTES: There it is!

Oof! Another cliffhanger! Yeah... I know that I promised that they'd end up back in Hogwarts by the end of this chapter, but I've been too busy with real life to fully write this chapter out. I wanted to make it a whopping thirty five thousand, but since I took so long, I felt bad and ended with a cliffhanger instead. It might seem cruel, but hey, at least you guys got another thirty thousand words to read. I know the Quarantine is really doing some people's heads in, so here's to combating that.

One last announcement. I got in touch with an Artist, and we're starting our little Fanart project! Once the art is complete, I'll put it up on my brand new Tumblr account: therealtruespartan (Some dude had already taken my pen name...)

See you guys in a week!