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.

119. Chapter 119 - Goodbye

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Chapter 119 is here!

Now, let me say I'm sorry again, but yeah... It took a while. I've become busy in life again, so from now on, I'll be releasing two chapters a month until further notice. Sorry, guys, but life didn't offer me a safe word.

Also, this is a 'heavy' chapter, so procede with caution.

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.

There's also another Ron story out that's really good so far! It's called 'There and Back Again', and it's written by Chuchi Otaku. Please, go check it out! I've certainly enjoyed reading it!

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Fate

Chapter 119 - Goodbye

Ajax Chloros' POV

Saturday 23rd January, 1994 (Hogsmeade – Morning)

Ajax had killed children before… It was an ugly, but necessary, part of his job. The only wizards who hired assassins these days were rich Pure-Bloods, and they often ordered hits on their enemies for petty reasons. So occasionally, if the pay was high enough, Ajax accepted contracts on children. He wasn't proud of this, but gold was gold, and Ajax had debts to pay.

This is how he had ended up in this vipers' den. Violet Parkinson had offered him a king's ransom in exchange for Ronald Weasley's death, and Ajax had seized the opportunity to wipe the slate clean. This was going to be his final job. After this, he would give his sister's son, Julian, a new life. A better life.

And yet…

From the moment he had arrived, things had started going wrong. Four men had been asking the locals about a 'Talbot' a day before Ajax had arrived. Through sheer dumb luck, he was given an advantage over the men seeking him. He had quickly rented out a room, after which he had sent a warning to Violet Parkinson. She had mentioned that she had a partner in her murderous scheme, and that partner had clearly betrayed her. This was nothing new, of course… Ajax had dealt with the Pure-Bloods enough to know that they hated each other just as much as they hated the 'lesser witches and wizards'.

Driven forward by necessity, Ajax had elected to finish the job despite the fresh dangers. He had survived worse ambushes in the past, and the bounty was too large to turn down. Violet Parkinson would hopefully survive long enough to pay him, and in doing so, set him and Julian free.

That hope filled thought was quickly dashed to pieces when Ajax had spotted Alastor fucking Moody limping around during the students' arrival. And if that wasn't bad enough, Ronald Weasley hadn't even come down for Hogsmeade Weekend. All of the boy's friends were here, including Violet Parkinson's own daughter, but Weasley was nowhere to be seen. This job is over… The fucking target isn't even here. Damn you, Violet Parkinson.

Ajax kept his eyes fixed on the Slytherin carriages, his eyes peeled for red hair. Where was Ronald Weasley? Why wasn't he here with the rest of his schoolmates? Why the fuck was Alastor Moody here? And why was the greatest Auror in British History watching the Gryffindor carriages? Ajax was careful not to stare at Moody, everyone had heard about Moody's 'all-seeing' eye. After a bit of searching, Ajax suddenly spotted a young Gryffindor, one with round glasses and wild black hair. Is that Harry Potter? Sweet Circe… It's really him.

For a moment, Ajax watched in awe as the Boy-Who-Lived laughed and joked around with his friends. Mad-Eye Moody is here to protect the Boy-Who-Lived? I suppose that could be the case… But Moody doesn't work for his Ministry anymore. Does he? Ajax decided to stay clear of the Gryffindors as much as possible; he didn't need Mad-Eye Moody tearing him to pieces. What should I do about Weasley?

Ajax subtly looked around the carriages; he could see his pursuers mixing in with the large crowds. One last job, Ajax… Then Julian can have a normal childhood. You owe Sophia much more than that. Ajax began moving towards the Three Broomsticks Inn, he needed to wait until Ronald Weasley showed his face. There's still hope. I just have to be patient.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 23rd January, 1994 (British Ministry of Magic – Morning)

The Basilisk skin lining made his suit feel a little heavy, but it did nothing to hinder his movements. I suppose comfort is a small price to pay for safety. Marty and I couldn't damage any of the other suits last night, which already proves that this was the right move.

"Mr. Weasley?" the secretary popped her head around the corner. "Mr. Crouch will see you now."

"Thanks," Ron stood up and smiled, but the secretary was already gone. Merlin, it's really busy here today. I wonder why.

Ron made his way towards Crouch's office, knocking on the door with his new Basilisk skin glove.

"Come in," came a stern voice from behind the door.

"Good morning, Sir," Ron greeted Crouch as he moved into the room, shutting the door behind him.

"Yes… Good morning," Crouch kept his eyes on his work. "Sit."

Ron did as he was told, his eyes scanning the massive workload on Crouch's desk.

"What's going on, Sir?" Ron asked. "You sent me an emergency owl this morning-"

"This Department can no longer afford to keep you as the Diplomat to the French," Crouch looked up. Huh? "I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley, but this post requires knowledge and experience. You have neither." I earned this position, though!

"The Minister-" Ron started.

"He had no right to hire you," Crouch said, he didn't sound upset despite the sacking. "You are a student of Hogwarts, and you cannot work in this Department while attending to your studies. The Ministry is grateful for your help with the French, but that's not enough to justify hiring a child."

"But I've proven myself," Ron said, his brow furrowed. "I handled the French after they-"

"I have been told of how you 'handled' that situation," Crouch cut in again. "Threats and ultimatums are not diplomacy, Mr. Weasley. The British Ministry does not handle its foreign relations in such a manner."

"They were threatening me," Ron argued. "They were threatening this Ministry!"

"Because you brought them over, and then left them to their own devices," Crouch said. "Look… I am not an unreasonable man. You have promise, and I've seen it for myself now, but saying that, this job is beyond your years."

"Then you can train me, can't you?" Ron asked. "I'm a quick-study, and if you give me the chance, I can prove it."

"Mr. Weasley, I already have trained Diplomats," Crouch said. "They finished their studies, and were then trained for over two years in our training programs. They were taught to speak foreign languages, they were taught about the different cultures of Magical Communities throughout the world, and they were taught not to threaten their potential allies." Crouch then leaned back in his chair, his eyes meeting Ron's. "Come back after you finish Hogwarts, and do things by the book. I will give you a chance when that day comes, I promise." I'll be dead by then!

"I want to talk to the Minister," Ron stood up.

"Sit back down," Crouch ordered, but Ron chose to ignore that command. "Ronald, he has already signed off on this. Sit back down." He has?

"I want to talk to him-"

"He's not here," Crouch said. "He's in France, but you don't know that because you live at Hogwarts. I have a fully trained Diplomat within this Department, and despite not being on assignment, he comes here every single day asking for work. You send one letter a week, and only arrive when I summon you. You are damaging my Department's efficiency, and I have reached my limit."

"So I'm just fired?" Ron asked, his temper spiking. Fuck, I need this position! "After everything I worked to achieve? I brought so many French Families to the table. Didn't that help you in putting together the Triwizard Tournament?"

Crouch just stared at Ron, and after a few silent moments, he gestured Ron to sit down. This time, Ron did as he was told, but only because he planned to try and change Crouch's mind.

"Minister Fudge might have let you walk all over him, but I promise you, that won't work with me," Crouch started. "In my years, I've seen a lot of ambitious young wizards, and they all have one thing in common. They don't listen. They do as they please, and they don't work well with others. You've treated this Department as your personal playground, and from what Madam Bones has told me, you did the same with her Department." Crouch then frowned a little. "I've often heard that Slytherin House has its own political hierarchy, and because of that, none of you seem to understand how a professional workplace operates. There are rules, and they must be followed to the letter."

"Hiring minors is against the rules," Crouch went on. "Hiring people who are not qualified for the job is against the rules. Throwing tantrums and demanding to see the Minister during every crisis is against the rules. You, Mr. Weasley, have no reason to be working here, and I will not punish someone who has put in the work to be here just to keep you entertained. Now, please leave my office. We don't have anything else to discuss." Fuck me dead. This is the part where everything starts going wrong again, isn't it? Think, Ron… C'mon! Think of something!

"You can't justify hiring me…" Ron started; a plan had suddenly hatched in his mind. "The Minister offered me a different position before I was hired as an International Diplomat…"

"I know," Crouch said. "A Special Diplomatic Consultant… Minister Fudge made that position in the hopes of saving the Ministry some bad press. You, however, chose to decline his offer."

"I have strong connections with the French," Ron said. "I can still prove myself useful to you. You need the French to cooperate during the Triwizard Tournament, don't you? I can help with that. Madam Maxime is a very good friend of mine. Your waiting Diplomat doesn't have my connections."

"Why is this so important to you?" Crouch asked suddenly. "What is your goal here, Mr. Weasley?" I'm trying to win a damn war here. That's why this position is so important to me.

"I want to help, and I can only do that if I have some semblance of power," Ron admitted. "This position gives me that power. Without it, I'm limited to working on a much smaller scale."

"You want to help?" Crouch cocked an eyebrow. "Help who, exactly?"

"Anyone who isn't given a fair chance at life," Ron replied. Just speak from the heart, Ron, and pray that Crouch isn't as cold as they say. "The Ministry can do a better job than it currently is, and I think you know that. I don't have your experience or knowledge, but I do have a lot passion and determination. Let me help you with the Triwizard Tournament to prove it. You can give my job to your man, but don't just fire me. Hire me as the Special Diplomatic Consultant."

Crouch seemed to be mulling his words over, and Ron decided to wait instead of droning on. I think I'm all out of begging for the day.

"You will be paid a quarter of your current salary," Crouch finally broke his silence. "You will only work on the tasks I give you, and you will not throw your weight around this Department anymore. You will follow the rules just like everyone else." I don't have any leverage right now… Fuck. That whole Abadie scandal fucked everything up for me.

"What sort of work will I be given?" Ron asked.

"Here," Crouch handed him a couple of folders from the top of the stack. "In there are the names of the French Families who are helping us fund this extravagant tournament. You will study their history, their hobbies, their favorite foods, and everything in between. After that, you will hold a small gathering for these Families in order to ask for more funding. I expect this done by the end of January."

Ron looked at the thick folders, and then he gave a nod.

"And if I run into any obstacles?" Ron asked.

"Then you will follow the proper protocols," Crouch replied. What are the proper protocols?

"So… I just contact you?" Ron asked.

"No, you will contact Anthony Dubois," Crouch corrected Ron. "He will be taking your current position, and he'll do most of the work. Your job is to help him." Ah… I'm his assistant, then?

His pride was telling him to reject this demotion, but his common sense was telling him that something was better than nothing. If I don't accept this, Crouch won't let me set foot in this Department until I'm of age. Which, as it happens, is not a feat that I'll achieve.

"I'll get started on this as soon as I get back to Hogwarts," Ron accepted his new position.

"Keep Anthony in the loop, and go to him if you need help," Crouch looked back to his work. "You may leave."

"Um… What about my other benefits?" Ron asked, and Crouch looked back up. "The Minister offered me the same perks as the International Diplomats-"

"We will pay for your work related endeavors, and you will be given a Portkey whenever you require one," Crouch said. "Nothing more." So no paid Holidays? Oh, well, I still got the important perks.

"I'll be in touch, Sir," Ron stood up, making sure to hold his head high. Demoted first thing in the morning… Just another shit day in the life of Ronald Weasley.

---

Daphne Greengrass' POV

Saturday 23rd January, 1994 (The Three Broomsticks Inn – Morning)

"Did he tell you when he'd join us?" Tracey whispered.

"He said he'd be there as fast as he could," Daphne whispered back. "If he's not here in ten minutes, we'll go ahead with our plan."

"Pansy won't just leave with us if Ron's not around," Tracey whispered.

"We'll ask the boys to wait here for him," Daphne whispered.

"Why are you two whispering?" Pansy asked.

"Daphne was just telling me about her business plans," Tracey lied. What business plans? My grandparents are ignoring my letters. How am I supposed to start searching for warehouses in Magical Germany without their help?

"Have your grandparents sent you an owl yet?" Theo jumped in.

"Just one," Daphne sighed out. "They told me that they needed time to mull over my proposal. I've been waiting ever since." Ron wouldn't take this long, that's for certain. What am I doing wrong?

Once again, she felt a pang of doubt about her entire plan. Maybe she wasn't cut out for this yet? Maybe she was rushing to prove herself in an attempt to get her father's attention? I was raised for this, and if I can't do it right, then what am I supposed to do? Father has done so much for our Family's future, and I don't want to be known as the heir who ruined everything.

"Do your grandparents not like you, Greengrass?" Malfoy asked from behind his Butterbeer.

The others all looked to Daphne, some were amused while others were annoyed on her behalf.

"No… They don't," Daphne replied curtly. All of a sudden, he's becoming comfortable around us again. Seriously, why is Ron spending so much energy on Malfoy? Ron never does anything pointless. He must have some plan, right?

"That was rude, Malfoy," came Ron's voice, and Daphne looked over her shoulder. He's here! "You already know that she's been waiting for them to reply to her."

"Here, Ron, take my seat," Tracey moved over to Theo's side, leaving Ron the chair to Daphne's right.

Ron sat down, a vexed look on his face. Did the meeting go badly? I really hope not.

"So? What are we doing today?" Ron asked, his voice almost stern. Oh, no…

The others waited for Daphne to say something, as they usually did whenever Ron was in a mood. Just be calm and collected, and he'll slowly start responding.

"We didn't really make a schedule this time," Daphne replied almost pleasantly, and Ron nodded a little. "Is everyone fine with just walking around? If any shop catches our eye, we'll go in and have a look."

"That sounds good," Blaise said, his eyes fixed on Ron. Now that they've made up, I can start asking Blaise for some help again.

"How did the meeting go?" Millie asked. Why, Millicent?

"I got demoted…" Ron said, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"Demoted?" Daphne blinked. "Why?"

"It doesn't matter," Ron replied. "This is just another obstacle to climb over." Wow, I wish I had that attitude… Hopefully, he won't be grouchy for the whole day. I need his help with getting rid of the boys for a bit. Millie, Tracey, and I need to take Pansy on a 'girls only' shopping trip.

---

Saturday 23rd January, 1994 (Hogsmeade – Nearly Midday)

"Maybe this is good for me," Ron sighed out as he rubbed his neck. "I'll still be involved, but I won't be as liable. That whole French debacle was genuinely my fault… This way, I reckon I can learn a lot more about Ministry workings."

"This new job gives you more spare time," Daphne said. "You could use that extra bit of time on other matters." Matters like me!

"You're right," Ron said thoughtfully. "I could train more, work on the Werewolf Sanctuary, work on the Quibbler, and finally start bringing like-minded Families together."

"I meant me, Ron," Daphne said with a disappointed look.

"I'd do that too," Ron smiled a little nervously.

"You'd better," Daphne huffed, and then she shot a look at the other boys. I reckon it's time for that shopping trip. "I need a favor from you, Ron."

"A favor?" Ron whispered.

"Millie, Tracey, and I want to take Pansy shopping, so could you take the boys somewhere else?" Daphne asked. "It'll only be for an hour or so, I promise."

"Um… We should really stick together, Daph," Ron replied. "We're not in Hogwarts right now, which means that we're not safe." Safe? Who is going to attack us in Hogsmeade?

"Ron… The village is filled with potential witnesses," Daphne started. "Plus, who'd attack us? We're just teenagers."

"I don't know about this," Ron said.

"Please?" Daphne urged. "You've seen how she's been, haven't you? She won't let her walls down near the boys."

"Her walls?" Ron asked. "Daph… I promised your father that I'd keep my eyes on you. I can't do that if you're on the other side of the village."

"I can take care of myself, Ron," Daphne felt rather patronized. "I'd appreciate your help on this, but even if you refuse, I'm still going to do it. Pansy doesn't want Theo and Blaise to know about her situation-"

"Why is that?" Ron cut in. "They wouldn't make fun of her. She has to know that, right?"

"It's just an embarrassing thing to own up to," Daphne said. "I don't know why she's being this way, and I don't really care. She needs our help, and I'm stepping up." That'll definitely work on him. He loves that sort of talk.

Ron suddenly looked a bit perplexed, and then he shot a quick look at Pansy.

"Fine…" Ron relented. Yes! "But only for an hour, Daph."

"Only for an hour," Daphne promised.

"When should I take the boys away?" Ron asked.

"Right now," Daphne replied, and Ron blinked at her. "We're just walking around right now, right? The sooner we can get this done, the sooner we can all get together for an activity."

"Fair enough," Ron said, and then he moved quickly to catch up to the others. "Oi! Can we please stop for a second?"

"Why?" Pansy asked. "Are you feeling tired?"

"No… I have a surprise for the lads," Ron started.

"A surprise?" Millie cocked an eyebrow, while the boys looked a bit intrigued. "What sort of surprise?" He's trying to help us, Millie… Don't ask for details.

"I can't really say," Ron replied. "It would ruin the surprise, wouldn't it?"

"It would," Daphne added.

"Look, we'll be gone for an hour at most," Ron said. "There's nothing to worry about."

"Shouldn't we stick together?" Theo asked. "We're not in Hogwarts right now." Ron's paranoia is rubbing off on Theo.

"It'll be fine," Ron promised. "We'll meet back here in an hour, and we won't break up again."

"I need to head to the Hogsmeade Post Office," Blaise spoke up. "Ron, can we go there first?" A post office? Doesn't Blaise have his own owl? Oh, is he sending an untraceable letter to someone?

"Sure," Ron replied a little too quickly. "Let's go there first."

"Are you girls all right with this?" Theo looked to Daphne.

"It's just an hour," Daphne replied calmly.

"We'll meet back up in no time," Tracey added. "Pansy? What do you think?"

"Um… Sure," Pansy shrugged. "I'm not too fussed…"

"See?" Ron smiled a bit. "C'mon, lads, we're going on an adventure."

"How thrilling," Malfoy said coldly. "Since we're splitting up, can I be on my own for an hour-"

"Nope," Ron refused. "Sorry, Malfoy, but I need to keep my eyes on you. You know that already, don't you?" Did someone ask him to do that? What's so special about Malfoy? Merlin, I wish I could peer into Ron's mind. So many questions would be answered.

---

Blaise Zabini's POV

Saturday 23rd January, 1994 (Hogsmeade – Midday)

Blaise fiddled with the letter in his robe pocket, there was still time to turn back.

Subtlety, Blaise shot a look towards Ron, who was still lost in his own thoughts. If I turn back now, what would he think of me? I shouldn't have said anything about needing the post office. I took the choice out of my own hands. Why did I do that? I'm usually more in control over what comes out of my mouth.

"There it is," Theo gestured towards their destination.

Blaise tensed at the sight of the old building, was he really ready to stand against his mother? No… I'm not… But I also can't just stand by and let her kill Lord De Luca. His blood will be on my hands just as much as it will be on hers. I'm not a little boy anymore… I'm on the path to becoming a man. And I have to choose what kind of man I want to be. This is the one thing that I can't let her take from me. My choice.

"Blaise, are you all right?" Theo asked. "You're looking a little tense, mate."

"I'm fine," Blaise lied. "You lot can wait outside. This won't take long."

"All right," Theo said as he stopped walking. "We'll just be waiting by the door, yeah?"

"Sure…" Blaise said, his eyes darting towards Ron again.

This time, Ron was looking back at Blaise with a meaningful look, something that made Blaise's stomach grumble from nervousness. No backing out now, Blaise… Mimicking Ron's breathing technique, Blaise decided to get this over with. Without wasting another second, Blaise made his way inside the post office.

"Good afternoon!" a cheerful old wizard greeted Blaise from behind the counter. Ugh… What is that stench? It smells worse than the Owlery in here.

"Good afternoon, Sir," Blaise greeted.

"Sir? No need to be so polite, young man," the old wizard smiled brightly. "Come on in. What can I do for you?"

"Um… I need an owl…" Blaise felt his throat tighten. I think I'm sweating a bit. "A discrete owl… Oh, and it needs to be fast."

"Discrete and fast," the old man nodded to himself. "I have just the one! Let me go fetch him for you!"

The old wizard gestured Blaise towards an empty chair, and then he vanished into the back of his shop. Blaise, however, didn't move from his spot, he was suddenly feeling too scared to even breathe. What am I doing here?! I can't do this… I need more time. Blaise's body turned to leave on its own accord, only to come face-to-face with Ron.

"Hello," Ron smiled faintly. What's he doing in here? "Were you about to run away?"

Shame filled Blaise almost instantly, forcing his head to lower itself. He wasn't supposed to come in after me…

"Why are you here?" Blaise managed to ask.

"I didn't want you to do this alone," Ron whispered.

"Or you didn't want me to back out…" Blaise muttered under his breath. "I don't think I'm ready for this-"

"That's just your fear talking," Ron cut in. "Blaise, look at me."

Slowly, Blaise raised his gaze. He didn't know why, but he expected to see judgment in Ron's eyes, but when their eyes finally met, Blaise only saw understanding and concern. It soothed something in his chest, and for a brief moment, Blaise wasn't afraid of his mother. I have Ron on my side, and unlike her, he won't abandon me.

"When did you write the letter?" Ron asked, his gentle voice sounded almost alien to Blaise.

"Last night…" Blaise replied. "I don't know why, but I just wrote it… One minute I was studying, and the next, I was openly planning to defy my mother…"

"I know why you wrote it," Ron smiled more fully. "You're a good person, Blaise."

Again, Blaise felt something in his chest being soothed. Get a hold of yourself, Blaise.

"Ron, I'm not really in the mood for this sort of talk," Blaise forcefully regained some of his composure.

"Figures," Ron chuckled a bit. "But I mean it, Blaise. You're a good person, even if you don't like other people to see that side of you. You care about Lord De Luca, and deep down, you hate what your mother does to her husbands." Of course I do… What sane person would agree with her murderous ways?

"If I send this… I can't take it back," Blaise swallowed thickly; there was a painful lump in his throat. "What if she gets a hold of it first? What if my letter speeds up her plan?"

"What does the letter say?" Ron asked. "You didn't leave your name on it, did you?"

"Of course not," Blaise replied. "There's nothing in this letter that incriminates me… It just warns Lord De Luca about his 'beautiful' new bride."

"Is there a high chance that she'll get it before he does?" Ron asked.

"I'm sending it to his company," Blaise replied.

"You've clearly thought this through," Ron said. "You just have to take the plunge now, that's all."

"Take the plunge?" Blaise repeated. "Ron, my life is on the line here-"

"As is Lord De Luca's," Ron said. "Look… If you decide to wait for a bit longer, I won't judge you. Just…" Ron then clicked his tongue; he looked like he wanted to say something rather sappy. Don't do it, Ron. "No matter what happens, brother, you'll always have me in your corner. You're not alone anymore." He went and did it… "The clerk is coming back. Time to decide, mate."

Blaise reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter, it was time to decide what kind of man Blaise wanted to be.

---

Ajax Chloros' POV

Saturday 23rd January, 1994 (Hogsmeade – Midday)

Ronald Weasley stepped out of the Hogsmeade Post Office with his mate; there was a faint smile on Weasley's face. His guard is down, and there's no crowd around him. Now would be the perfect opportunity to strike if it weren't for the bastards who were looking for me.

Ajax shifted further into the narrow alleyway, though his eyes travelled towards his pursuers. All four of them had started following Weasley everywhere; they no doubt planned to protect the boy from Ajax's assault. This fucking job just keeps getting harder and harder.

Ajax had once again started doubting his own willingness to carry out the hit, but in the end, he knew that there was only one way forward. He needed the money in order to give Julian a better life, and he was going to get that money even if it got him killed in the process. I've done harder jobs than this. I need to take care of his protectors first, and then I can take Ronald Weasley's head as instructed.

Carefully, Ajax moved out of the alleyway with his bag of groceries cradled in his left arm. Moving unnoticed through Hogsmeade was rather easy, especially because of the loud children who were eagerly exploring the village, and so, step-by-step, Ajax neared the closest of his pursuers. The burly wizard didn't notice Ajax approaching from behind; he was too busy looking around for 'Talbot'.

"Oh, no," Ajax said as he 'accidently' bumped into the man, his bag of groceries almost falling over. "Sorry, good Sir. The ice is slippery-"

"Don't worry about it," the man grunted, a mild look of annoyance on his face. "Just take your groceries and move on, all right?"

"Let me just fix this," Ajax chuckled nervously as he fiddled with his bag of groceries. "I don't even know why I'm carrying this bag… I can just make it float behind me, can't I?"

The burly wizard frowned a bit more, while Ajax reached into his bag of groceries.

"I think I broke the eggs…" Ajax sighed out. "Do you mind holding onto this for me for a second?"

"I do, now sod off," the man growled.

"I'm about to drop it," Ajax all but shoved his bag of groceries into the man's arms. "I'm just going to have a look inside really fast. Thanks for this."

"You fucking-"

"Imperio," Ajax whispered, he had been hiding his secondary wand within the bag.

The yellow mist flooded the burly wizard's senses, and Ajax easily bound the man's mind to his own. A simpleton, eh? Good. I can use him to gain control of his friends. That'll turn this job into a cakewalk.

"Drop my groceries, and then help me collect them," Ajax whispered sternly, and his puppet did as he was told.

The bag fell with a thud, and both master and slave crouched to recover its contents. Carefully, Ajax looked towards one of his puppet's friends. They're watching us. I should hide my face as we talk.

"Why are you here?" Ajax whispered as he looked down. "Keep your head down as you answer."

"I'm here to protect Ronald Weasley," the puppet replied.

"Who do you work for?" Ajax asked.

"Lucius… Malfoy…" the puppet grit out. Lucius Malfoy? Why did it have to be him of all people? Damn that stupid bitch. She'd better pay extra for this.

"Don't fight," Ajax ordered. "Submit to me."

"Yes…" the puppet muttered.

"You will help me collect your friends, won't you?" Ajax asked. "I need your help."

"I will help," the puppet gave in completely. "Please, follow me."

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 23rd January, 1994 (Honeydukes – Midday)

At least the day had taken a better turn after his untimely demotion. Blaise had finally decided to do the right thing, and in doing so, he had uplifted Ron's spirit a bit. With the letter delivered, Ron had brought the lads to Honeydukes for their 'surprise'. Hoping to buy Daphne some more time, Ron had decided to offer to pay for everything. I'll manage… Right now, Pansy needs the help.

"Do you like 'Ice-Mice'?" came a soft voice from beside him.

"Sorry, am I in your way?" Ron broke out of his daydreams.

"No, I was just watching you," the older student replied with a weird smile. Creepy… His eyes didn't change a bit when his mouth did. A smile that doesn't reach his eyes… That's something out of a murder mystery novel. "You cut quite the figure, Ronald Weasley, especially for someone as young as you." Pardon?

"Um… Thanks, mate," Ron felt a bit uncomfortable. "But I… I'm not into that… Sorry." I think…

The fair, and somewhat androgynous, blonde looked a bit amused, and Ron suddenly felt a small pang of pain jolt up his spine. Ow! Fucking Veela bastard!

"You might look like a girl, but that won't stop me from kicking your arse," Ron hissed, his temper spiking immediately. "Knock that off right now."

"Interesting way to start a conversation," the young man 'smiled'. "So, the rumors are true. You have a certain boldness about you that hasn't been seen for a long time." You're the prick who started the conversation by using his damn allure.

"You're not from Hogwarts," Ron figured. "And you're not some French Lord either."

"What makes you say that?" the young man asked.

"I know the French Lords," Ron replied. "You're not one of them."

"I am now, thanks to you," the young man almost looked genuine for a moment. Really?

"Is that so? Then, please, enlighten me," Ron said, forcing his temper down. I need to be polite… If he's telling the truth, then I need to be on his good side. I should apologize and then humor him.

"I am Johan Abadie," the young man introduced himself. Oh, shit.

"Abadie?" Ron looked the man over. He's definitely Veela. A bloody handsome Veela. "The son of Lord and Lady Abadie?"

"The only," Johan said pleasantly. "Once again, gratitude for what you did for me. My banishment was starting to unravel my mind." What is he fucking talking about? He was banished? Why?

"I am not following you," Ron said. "Can you please elaborate?" I'm getting a weird feeling from this bloke.

"Do you really wish to discuss the details here?" Johan asked. "What if someone overhears us?"

"I don't know what you've been told, but I've never heard of you until today," Ron said. "No offence, my Lord." Didn't Emilia mention that this bastard was in Australia, or something?

"None taken," Johan said. "I became the victim of secrecy after my parents sent me away to Australia. I never dreamed of becoming Lord Abadie so soon, but you've rescued me from my isolation. So, I thought I'd thank you in person."

"I haven't done anything to earn your gratitude," Ron said. Is he seriously thanking me for killing his parents? What the fuck?

"Of course," Johan winked lazily. There's something not right with this fuck. He looks like he's wearing a mask instead of having a face. "I must admit, the stories made you out to be a giant."

"I'm still growing," Ron put on a polite smile. "I don't know why you're thanking me, but let's move past that. What are you doing in Hogsmeade, my Lord?"

"I wished to see you," Johan said in his soft voice. "I owe you a debt of gratitude."

"A debt of gratitude?" Ron repeated.

"Can you just catch up already?" Johan's voice suddenly turned bland. "I know that you were behind their untimely demises, not to mention that half of France still thinks that it was you. Word might not have reached you here, but in France, you're still suspect number one." Fuck, am I really? Is that why I was demoted? Crouch obviously needs a popular delegate, so it would go to explain my sudden demotion. This also explains Solomon seeing through my disguise… He must be in the know in France. Fucking hell, how many things did I bungle up?

"Then half of France is wrong," Ron said calmly. "I had nothing to do with what happened to your parents. I can prove that I was undergoing surgery-"

"For the stomach ulcer, no?" Johan 'smiled' again. "I know your story quite well. I just don't buy it." Johan then adorned an even more relaxed demeanor. "Look, we're getting off on the wrong foot here. I come as a friend, nothing more and nothing less. My parents were horrible people, and I didn't agree with their methods. I was sent away for speaking out against them, I was no older than fourteen at the time." Boohoo. You just thanked a 'murderer' for doing your dirty work; so don't play the sob story card now. You're a fucking creepy cunt.

"I am sorry to hear about your troubles," Ron said. "But that doesn't change the truth. I had nothing to do with what happened to them. They had many enemies, as I'm sure you already know." Where the fuck are Blaise, Theo, and Malfoy?

"However you look at it, a debt of gratitude is owed," Johan said. "After all, it was you who made them vulnerable in the first place. Please, if you ever need anything in France, seek me out at my Manor."

"Why are you so grateful for such a thing?" Ron asked. "If, hypothetically, someone killed my parents, I'd be filled with rage and sorrow. I certainly wouldn't go around handing out debts of gratitude to the supposed murderer."

"Then I envy you for having such good parents," Johan said. "I wasn't so lucky."

"Because you're not like them," Ron said. "That's why you were banished, right?" I'm not buying his act. Something's really off about him.

"Exactly," Johan 'smiled'. "Have a pleasant day, Mr. Weasley, and remember my offer. I think we could achieve a lot together."

"You came down just to say that, my Lord?" Ron asked.

"Matters like this should be done face-to-face," Johan replied. "That is how you can see the depths of your friends and enemies." Which one am I?

"Then I hope that we will be friends," Ron smiled. "I will remember your offer."

Johan 'smiled', gave a respectful nod, and then walked away quietly. What in the fuck was that? How did he know that I was in here? Was he following me? Ron rubbed his face harshly; things were suddenly going to shit again. At this rate, he was going to lose his hard-earned sense of peace and revert back to his colder, usual self. It's so much easier that way. I miss being able to just push everything, and everyone, away without a care.

"Who was that?" came Tracey's voice, and Ron quickly turned to face her. "He didn't look like any student from Hogwarts."

"Tracey?" Ron cocked an eyebrow. "What are you doing here? Where's Pansy?"

"Oh… Um… That's a bit awkward," Tracey pulled a sorry face. "Pansy's pouch… It's not working for some reason. She reached in to pay for her things, but there were no coins inside."

"Can that even happen?" Ron asked. "Did she damage the Runes on the pouch?"

"Daphne says that her parents must've closed off her trust fund," Tracey sighed out. "Pansy was in tears, Ron… Millie and Daphne took her back to the castle. I figured that I'd come find you and let you know." Bloody hell…

"Poor Pansy," Ron felt even worse. "Why is Violet Parkinson such a cunt?"

"For once, I agree with the use of that word," Tracey said. "She wants to hurt Pansy, Ron. It's some sick, twisted hobby of hers, and we need to do something about it. This can't go on."

"You're right," Ron agreed. "Have you told the other lads about this?"

"No, and promise me that you won't either," Tracey said. "Pansy doesn't need more stress in her life right now." I reckon she'd feel better if there were more people in her corner, but the girls know her better.

"All right, I'll keep this to myself for now," Ron promised. "But let's come up with a plan between ourselves while we walk around Hogsmeade, yeah? Theo and Blaise can spend some time keeping Malfoy distracted."

"Sounds good to me, Ron," Tracey gave a relieved smile. "Thanks for being so understanding about this. I know that you always want us to do everything together. Pansy will really appreciate this."

---

Saturday 23rd January, 1994 (Hogsmeade – Afternoon)

"Honestly, I'm all out of ideas," Tracey sighed out.

"Me too," Ron admitted, his eyes fixed ahead. "What the hell are we supposed to do? Until Pansy renounces her parents, we can't move in to help her."

"How do we even start that conversation?" Tracey asked. "The mere mention of her mother makes Pansy shrink to half her actual height."

"Well, you'd better figure that out," Ron said. "You, Daphne, and Millie are the only ones who she'll talk to about this."

"Ugh…" Tracey groaned. "You remember first year? When things weren't so complicated?" Maybe for you, but 'complicated' is my middle fucking name.

"First year was the best," Ron humored her. "Everything went to shit during second year."

"Truer words were never spoken," Tracey said longingly. "We barely got any homework, we didn't have garbage electives, and we didn't have to deal with the dreadful House politics. It was just we seven, and it was perfect. Now… Now, we could lose Pansy…"

"Hey…" Ron was a bit surprised to hear that. "That's not going to happen."

"How do you know?" Tracey asked, her worry more than evident.

"I'll keep us together," Ron replied. "No matter what happens… I won't let this group be separated."

"What are you going to do when Theo's father takes him away?" Tracey asked. Merlin, where is this suddenly coming from? "What about Millie's parents? My father told me what they're really like, Ron… Millie will definitely want to be with her parents."

"We don't know that," Ron whispered as he moved a bit closer, his left hand rubbing her back. "You know Millie, Trace… Do you think she'd ever side with people like her parents?"

"She loves them, doesn't she?" Tracey asked weakly.

"She does, but Millie is her own person," Ron replied. "She's strong enough to choose the right path, I know it. I've never seen her bully, torment, or show hatred towards the Muggle-Borns. She hates bullies. When she learns the full truth, she'll know which side is the right one."

"You reckon she'll join the Order," Tracey sounded a little hopeful.

"I have no idea about that," Ron smiled comfortingly. "But she'll definitely stand with her friends. She might even try to save her parents, which is what Theo wants to do."

"Theo wants to save his father?" Tracey asked, her eyes darting forward towards Theo's back.

"He doesn't want to join the Death-Eaters," Ron whispered. I reckon she'll be really happy to hear that.

"Really?" Tracey's face started to light up. "He told you this?"

"He did," Ron replied. "He also told Blaise, so you can go and ask him if you don't believe me." Ron then put his left arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze. "This group is important to all of us, and I reckon we'll all fight to keep it together. It won't be easy, but if we stay together, I think we'll all make it out of this." Well, not all, but I can't say that to her right now.

"I… Thanks, Ron," Tracey smiled optimistically. "I really needed to hear that."

"I'll need your help, of course," Ron smiled back.

"You can count on it," Tracey promised, resisting the urge to make a joke.

Tracey then drew in a sharp breath, something resolute shifting behind her eyes.

"About the Order…" Tracey started. "I'm going to join it as soon as I can." What?

"You want to join the Order?" Ron blinked.

"Do you know what happened to my parents during the last war?" Tracey asked, and Ron gave a nod. "They were the lucky ones, Ron… How many people do you think the Death-Eaters killed?" Is she planning to become one of those people?

"Thousands," Ron replied. "Tracey-"

"Tens of thousands," Tracey corrected him. "The whole Wizarding World was engulfed in this war… So many innocent people were tortured and killed, and all for an idea as stupid as Blood-Supremacy. I have to fight against something that horrible, Ron." Bloody hell, Tracey... "My parents are already planning to fight, remember? Well, I'm going to stand by them."

"You're too young to fight in a war," Ron said. "Your parents will say the same."

"Then I'll wait a couple of years," Tracey said with fierce determination. "In that time, I'm going to devote myself to becoming a stronger witch. I've already started running with you-"

"Is that why you started joining us?" Ron asked. "It wasn't because Daphne asked you to?"

"I haven't told anybody about my real reasons," Tracey smiled a bit. "But I've been meaning to do it, and I picked you."

"Over Daphne?" Ron asked dumbly. "Why?"

"I've always felt like we were similar," Tracey shrugged. "Maybe it's because you hate the idea of Blood-Supremacy like I do, but whatever the reasoning, I've always known that I could trust you."

Ron was genuinely touched by her words, but instead of thanking her, he just stared at her with an astonished look.

"What?" Tracey asked. "I'm capable of saying nice things, you know? When I feel like it, that is."

"I've felt it too," Ron forced his voice out. "The connection you were referring to… I don't know if this makes sense, but you and I get each other."

"We do," Tracey smiled brightly. "You'll be joining the Order too, right? What am I saying? Of course you'll join the Order."

"I do plan on joining eventually," Ron said. Is it really fair of me to discourage her from fighting for her beliefs? Aren't I doing the same? Damn, it is a bit hypocritical of me to be so against her decision. A good friend doesn't behave so selfishly-

"Ron? Where did you go?" Tracey called him back from his thoughts. "Did you just zone out on me? I thought that we were having a moment…"

"We were," Ron smiled apologetically. "Sorry… Bad habit." Is she really set on this path?

"It's a good thing that I'll be watching your back out there, then," Tracey smirked. "Can't have you getting hurt because you were dozing off in the middle of a battle."

"A battle?" Ron chuckled. "You plan on joining the vanguard?"

"I plan to be wherever people need help," Tracey replied. That was a really good answer. "Same as you, Ron."

A small part of Ron still feared for her life, but she had mostly won him over with her resolution alone. I think she might be the best of us. With bravery like that, how did she ever end up in Slytherin? Ron's thoughts, and movement, were suddenly interrupted when he felt someone poke a pointy object into his side. What was that? Slowly, Ron looked to his right, only to come face-to-face with a burly wizard. His eyes… They're milky white.

"Did you just…?" Ron looked down, and he saw a knife trying to penetrate his augmented suit. What. The. Fuck?

The brutish wizard tried to jam the knife in again, and that's when it all hit Ron. Someone was trying to knife him in the middle of Hogsmeade! Cutis Terra!

"You fuck…" Ron snarled, his face twisting in anger.

The wizard raised the knife above his head, no doubt planning to stick the blade into Ron's eye. From behind Ron, Tracey screamed at the top of her lungs, while the people around them jumped from fright. Get away from her! Ron shoved himself forward, his left hand grabbing onto the attacker's dominant wrist. The two began to tussle for power, and Ron felt his own heart thudding in his ears as people around them started yelling for help. Use your fucking wands! Get him off me! Fuck it! I'll do it myself, then!

"Incendio," Ron grit out as he began to overpower the attacker thanks to his enhanced strength.

His left hand felt as hot as a furnace before it began to glow orange, the searing heat causing the attacker to scream in agony. Within a second, the larger man was on his knees, his screams mixing in with the panicking crowd of students and villagers. Ron quickly removed his glowing hand off of the scorched wrist; melted skin clinging to Ron's hand, and without hesitation, Ron grabbed the attackers face. Burn, you fuck! Trying to kill me?! In public?! In front of my fucking friends?!

"RON! LOOK OUT!" Tracey screamed again from behind him, but before Ron could react, he felt a body slam into his back.

Ron's legs became tangled with his attacker's writhing body, causing the large teenager to fall forward. From the corner of his vision, Ron saw flowing brown hair and a spray of red. The snow didn't make the landing softer, the sudden thud distracted Ron from what was going on. It pulled him out of the situation completely. Who just hit me in the back?

"TRACEY!" Theo cried, and Ron heard rushed footsteps from behind him.

He turned around with a dazed look, his mind slowly catching up. I've heard that kind of gurgling before… What the fuck just happened? Before Ron stood a jarred man, his wand aimed forward though his eyes were vacant. He was staring down at Tracey's trembling form, which was being cradled by a terrified Theo. TRACEY!

"NO!" Ron roared, his worst fears had come true. "What did you do to her?!"

The man seemed to break out of his thought at that, his wand quickly moving towards Ron. Lumos Solem!

"Avada Ked-" the man started, but the golden beam of light caught him dead in his chest.

The tanned man with the scar across his nose was sent flying through the air, as were the people behind him. Tracey! Ron shot up to his feet, his eyes as wide as dinner plates.

"Help me!" Theo was yelling, and from the look of it, people were starting to wake up. "Please! Do something!"

Dozens rushed over to help, a few of them smashing into Ron and cutting him off from his friends. Tracey!

"Get out of the fucking way!" Ron bellowed as he tossed people aside without a damn, and before long, he was on his knees beside Tracey. "Tracey! Gods! No!" This is not happening to her! NO!

The horrified look on her face… It was enough to tear Ron's heart out of his chest. She was shaking like a leaf, her body seizing from the shock and pain. And when Ron finally saw the gash around her neck, something in his brain just turned off. The entire world stopped moving, and Ron felt like he was trapped in this moment forever.

There was so much blood… The bottom half of her face was covered with it. More was leaking out, despite Theo trying his best to stop the bleeding with his hands.

"Please… Not you too…" Theo was whispering hysterically over and over again.

Bile rose up in the back of Ron's throat, but he quickly swallowed it. What the fuck am I doing?! Do something, Ron! Ron yanked out his wand as he shifted closer to Tracey, her gurgling causing his hands to shake. For a brief moment, Ron had felt like he was waiting behind Pandora's lab entrance again. That day, he had heard her gurgling as she nearly drowned in her own blood, and today, he was watching the same thing unfold before his very eyes. Save her like you saved Pandora!

"Episkey!" Ron chanted, his wand aimed at the squirting wound.

Tracey let out a strangled scream, and blood shot out of her mouth and onto Theo's face. She suddenly jerked in a terrifying manner, as if her soul was trying to escape her body, and Ron could only watch as the light began to dim behind her eyes. Her movements became weaker and weaker, eventually stopping altogether.

"No… No, no, no, no, no," Ron began panicking, why wasn't the Spell working?!

"Tracey…" Theo whimpered, thick tears running down his face. "Trace…"

"Out of my way!" came a loud growl. "Auror coming through! MOVE!"

---

Albus Dumbledore's POV

Saturday 23rd January, 1994 (Twelve Grimmauld Place – Afternoon)

"Find the whereabouts of this man for me, Mungdungus, and I will consider all debts paid," Albus said, handing Mungdungus a cutout from an old magazine.

"Alexander Argo," Mungdungus studied the cutout. "Master of Soul Transfiguration?"

"He was a notorious merchant in my youth, and his wares were often displayed within Transfiguration Today," Albus explained.

"And why would you want to meet this fella?" Mungdungus asked, and Albus just smiled at him.

It took Mungdungus awhile to get a hint, and when he finally did, he gave a grunt and a nod.

"Right… I'm onto it, boss," Mungdungus said before leaving the kitchen. Soul Transfiguration… Is such a thing even possible? For Ronald's sake, I certainly hope so.

"Dumbledore?" came Sirius' voice. "Why are you here?"

"I had business with Mungdungus," Albus replied, watching Sirius scrape his feet as he entered the kitchen. "Is something bothering you, Sirius?"

"A lot of things are bothering me," Sirius shrugged, leaning against a cupboard.

"I always have time to talk to a former student," Albus offered.

Sirius clicked his tongue, a slight frown crossing his face. He's in a mood.

"I was supposed to go meet Harry today," Sirius said. "He was really looking forward to it, and now, he's probably let down."

"Why didn't you go?" Albus asked.

"Alastor fucking Moody," Sirius replied bitterly. "Moody is a damn accurate description of the man… Stupid prick."

"Sirius," Albus said, guiding Sirius back to the conversation.

"Right…" Sirius sighed out. "He forbid me from going… Told me that I'd get in the way of his job."

"He's watching Harry for the day?" Albus asked. "I remember asking Emmeline and Hestia to take watch."

"They're there with Moody," Sirius said. "He took over the whole operation, and then forbid me from seeing my Godson. I should start charging him for rent… He grows nice and fat in my home, eating my food and dirtying my sheets-"

"Ignore what he says just this once," Albus smiled. "I think you should go and see Harry. If Alastor gives you any trouble, tell him that I gave you my blessing." Harry must forge the best of memories. They will give him the strength he needs to defeat Tom.

"Really?" Sirius straightened up a bit.

"Joy should never be delayed," Albus chuckled. "Go on-"

"Albus! There you are!" Minerva stormed into the room. "Oh, Albus! Something horrible has happened!"

"Minerva?" Albus studied her clothes; there were splatters of blood on her black robes.

"Are you bleeding?" Sirius went wide-eyed.

"There was an attack in Hogsmeade…" Minerva panted. Harry!

"An attack?" Sirius paled.

"Fawkes," Albus called, and his Phoenix flew onto his shoulder from the sink.

"Take him to the Hospital Wing," Minerva said, and Albus was suddenly engulfed in bright orange flames.

The first thing he heard was loud gasps as people jumped out of the way, not aware that the flames wouldn't harm them. The Hospital Wing was flooded with chattering students, all of them stuffing themselves into the room in order to gaze at some spectacle.

"Silence!" Albus ordered, making everyone in the room stop in their tracks. "All students are to leave at once! Madam Pomfrey needs the floor!"

"Headmaster," Pomona called him over, while the students slowly began to depart. "Thank Merlin that you've arrived… I can't believe that this is happening…" She's crying? No…

"Was it Harry?" Albus asked. "Was he injured?"

"The Boy-Who-Lived is unharmed," Severus hissed from behind a curtain. "Come in here, we need your help."

Albus made his way into the curtained off section, where he was confronted by a very jarring sight. What has happened? Severus and Poppy were leaning over a female student; her bloody clothes gave even a man like Albus reason to stop. By the Gods…

"Bastard got her with some sort of slashing Curse," Alastor growled from behind him, and Albus turned to face the man.

"Her?" Albus asked, his heart clenching painfully.

"Tracey Davis," Filius approached them, a haunted look on his face. Ronald's friend? "We're still unsure of the details, but there was an attack on Ronald Weasley-"

"Ronald was attacked?" Albus cut in. "Was he also harmed in the attempt?"

"No, he wasn't," Alastor told him. "Davis pushed him out of the way, but the Curse caught her throat. Albus, whoever was attacking Weasley, he was driven by Blood-Supremacy."

"What makes you say that?" Albus asked.

"The killer tried to take Weasley's head," Alastor explained. "He could've shot the boy down with the Killing Curse, but instead chose to behead him. It's a bloody tradition of the Old Ways… The boy's own uncles, Fabian and Gideon, lost their heads in the last war."

"Morgana's mercy," Pomona looked dizzy. "A beheading…"

"Then Tracey Davis…?" Albus feared to say the words. One of my students…

"She's circling the drain," Alastor said bluntly, making Pomona and Filius flinch. "I had one of your Elves bring her here, and Snape managed to find a Counter-Curse for her wound-"

"It will scar, though…" Pomona muttered.

"Better than dying," Alastor said. "He had a tear from your Phoenix stored away, which is the only reason why she's still clinging on. She's lost most of her blood, I reckon."

"Thank the Gods for Severus," Filius said, and Albus shared the man's sentiment. "Poppy is working to keep Tracey alive, but… It's not looking good, Headmaster."

"Poppy, do you need more tears from Fawkes?" Albus asked, and Fawkes let out a voluntary cry.

"The tears won't be as effective as before," Poppy replied without stopping her task. "She needs her blood restored, and Severus needs to break the Curse's effects."

"She is still under its effects?" Albus asked.

"It's something new," Alastor replied. "Even I haven't seen it before. The Curse is sapping her life out, despite the caster not being nearby."

"But you mentioned that Severus had found a Counter-Curse," Albus said.

"I'm making it up as I go along," Severus whispered coldly. Truly? "But it is becoming a difficult task with you all running your mouths near me. If you can't help, get out."

"I am inclined to agree," Poppy said.

"Albus, I need to talk to you," Alastor whispered. "Let Snape and Pomfrey do their work. This is important."

"Where are her friends?" Albus asked. "I must see them immediately." Ronald must be in a state.

"I'll take you to them," Alastor gestured for them to walk.

"Tell me everything from the start, Alastor," Albus ordered as they began heading for Poppy's office.

"From what I've gathered, an attacker attempted to stab Weasley," Alastor started. "It was a diversion, but much to the Weasley boy's credit, he overpowered his first attacker. That's when another attacker snuck up behind Weasley and attempted to behead him. The Davis girl threw herself between them, and was rewarded a slashed throat." Gods… Whoever did this will answer directly to me. "Brave girl… Not many could have acted so boldly under such circumstances."

"Severus and Poppy will keep her alive, I'm certain of it," Pomona said.

"What of the second attacker?" Albus asked.

"Weasley took care of him as well," Alastor replied. "That's about the time I arrived. The Davis girl was dying, and I managed to get her to Snape in his lab." He went directly to Severus instead of taking Tracey to Poppy? He must respect Severus' knowledge of the Dark Arts quiet a bit. "I'm sorry, Albus, but the attackers got away."

"Except for one," Filius quickly added. "Rubeus dragged the initial attacker back to Hogwarts, and the Elves have bound and gagged him in the Kitchens."

"I will speak to this man-" Albus started.

"You should let the Aurors deal with this," Alastor cut in. "That's what I needed to tell you… I dispatched Emmeline and Hestia to the Ministry. They'll be bringing Aurors back with them. You should let them handle this, and instead tend to your students. Let's show them a gesture of goodwill, and start off on the right path. The Order needs to work with the Ministry if we're to win this war."

"I will let the Aurors do their jobs," Albus said, and Alastor gave a nod. "Under my supervision." They attacked one of my students. I will not let this stand.

"Albus…" Alastor blinked.

"I want to talk to the students alone," Albus said as they neared the door. "Wait out here."

"Poppy gave them Calming Draughts for their nerves," Filius said as Albus opened the door. "They've not taken this well, Headmaster." What friend could?

Albus entered the office and shut the door behind himself, whilst also wandlessly silencing the entire room. It was a heart wrenching sight; six of them were clinging to each other, protecting a bloodied Theodore Nott. Draco sat not far from them, a look of disbelief on his face. Where is Ronald? The boy in question stood between the window and the desk, his back pressed against the wall. There was no emotion on his face, which was slightly alarming for some reason.

"Are any of you injured?" Albus approached the others first.

"No, Headmaster…" Daphne spoke for the group.

"Theodore?" Albus called gently.

"It's not my blood," Theodore said distantly. "Is she going to die as well?" As well?

"Nothing has been decided yet," Albus told them all. "But I have faith that she will survive."

"Did Madam Pomfrey tell you this?" Blaise asked.

"She and Professor Snape are attempting to restore her even as we speak," Albus said. "The Aurors are on their way, and they will have questions for all of you-"

"We will wait until my father is here," Daphne said, her eyes were bloodshot from crying. And yet, she still has her wits about her.

"I will contact him at once," Albus said, and then he looked to Ronald. "Ronald? Are you injured?"

"No…" Ronald replied, his eyes fixed on the floor. "Can I speak to you? I have information on the attackers."

"Come with me, then," Albus said.

"I'd rather not leave the room," Ronald said. "Can you please just come here?" He sounds far too calm. The Calming Draught isn't known to dull such trauma so well.

Albus walked over to the tall boy, a paternal look of worry crossing his features for a moment.

"Are you hurt, dear boy?" Albus whispered. "Do not hide a wound for foolish reasons."

"I'm not hurt," Ronald whispered, his lifeless eyes meeting Albus'. "The attacker had very tanned skin, and a long scar across his nose."

"This is the one who tried to behead you?" Albus asked.

"Yes," Ronald replied. "The one who got away."

"The Aurors will find him," Albus promised.

"No… I'll find him," Ronald said ominously. "He'll answer to me."

"Don't say such things," Albus warned in a gentle voice. "Ronald, the Aurors will be working under my supervision. We will find the attacker, and we will do it the right way."

"Headmaster," came Filius' voice, and Albus turned around. "Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour is here, and he's not alone."

"Is he in there?" came a familiar voice, and then a stern looking witch stepped into the Office. Jane Roberts. Rufus brought a Hit-Wizard with him?

Jane walked right past everyone and grabbed Ronald by the shoulders, her eyes scanning him for injuries.

"How are you, Ron?" Jane asked almost gently.

"I lost my friend…" Ronald replied. "All that training, and none of it mattered…"

"She's not gone yet," Jane said firmly. "You have to be strong during times like these. Show me the strength that I witnessed in our Duels."

"I… You're right," Ronald looked back up. "Madam Roberts, I have information on the attackers." She got through to him so easily?

"Then you're coming with me," Jane said. "Headmaster, can you please escort the others to Rufus?"

"After I contact their parents," Albus replied. I must speak with Ronald tonight. His grief will surely turn into vengeance if I don't talk him out of it.

---

Rufus Scrimgeour's POV

Saturday 23rd January, 1994 (Hogwarts – Late Afternoon)

This was going to be a disaster for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Even right now, news of this debacle was spreading like wildfire. Parents had started showing up at Hogwarts, all of them demanding to see their children. The Professors were barely managing to hold down the fort, and as such, Rufus and Jane had been set up behind the Hospital Wing.

Some cowardly predator had tried to behead Ronald Weasley in public, only to be overpowered by his 'prey'. The boy had fought off the assassination attempt, but at the cost of a girl's life. Tracey Davis was no longer responding to any outside stimuli, and was in the process of being moved to St. Mungo's. The Healers there would no doubt be able to keep her alive through potions, but her chances of waking back up were truly slim.

The severity of the attack had completely robbed Rufus of the chance to contain the situation. Upset parents were constantly getting in the way, Poppy Pomfrey refused to let him push anyone for information, and the Slytherins were hiding things from him.

"So you saw nothing?" Rufus asked Draco Malfoy.

"It all happened really fast…" Draco replied distantly. "By the time I realized what was happening behind me, most of it was already over."

"Did you see Ronald Weasley fight off his attackers?" Rufus asked.

"I… didn't see much," Draco 'subtly' lowered his gaze. He fears Legilimency? Is he hiding something?

"You did not see Mr. Weasley overpower a grown wizard?" Rufus asked.

"I was too distracted to take much notice of anything," Draco replied. Apparently, Ronald Weasley is invisible to his own friends. All the witnesses surrounding the attack claim that Ronald Weasley peeled the flesh off of someone's face without hesitation. That is certainly odd behavior for a teenager, isn't it?

"Am I free to go?" Draco asked. "I've shared everything that I could remember." Liar.

"You may leave," Rufus gestured the boy to leave the classroom. "Send in Mr. Weasley."

Draco Malfoy left without making a sound, and Rufus wondered why the boy's father hadn't arrived to see him. He's probably licking the Dark Lord's feet right now. Still... Who would dare put Lucius Malfoy's heir in danger? Which Lord wants to see Weasley dead, and is also not intimidated by the Malfoys? Corban Yaxley? He did go after the boy and his French allies… But Corban Yaxley is not an amateur. He would never order a public killing. No, whoever ordered this attack was ruled by their emotions. They wanted to put on a grand spectacle: the beheading of the rising Blood-Traitor.

"You wished to see me?" came Ronald Weasley's voice, and Rufus gestured him to a chair.

"Sit, Mr. Weasley," Rufus said. "I have some questions for you."

"Of course," Weasley walked over and sat down, his glassy eyes looking through Rufus. "I've already given Madam Roberts all the details. Do you want me to repeat them to you as well?" He's very cooperative. Surprising.

"Please," Rufus gave a nod. "Tell me everything."

"We were walking towards the town center, and nothing was out of place," Weasley started. "But then, someone attacked me with a knife."

"He stabbed you?" Rufus asked.

"No, he missed," Weasley replied.

"Strange… The surrounding witnesses claim that the blade couldn't pierce your skin," Rufus said. "They told me that the attacker tried again and again, but failed to wound you."

"Well, obviously they're mistaken," Weasley displayed his undamaged suit. "See? No stab wounds." A dozen people made the same error? Unlikely.

"Keep going," Rufus said, his eyes scanning Weasley's face.

"I managed to grab his arm, and we got into a wrestling match of sorts," Weasley went on. "I overpowered him-"

"He was twice your size," Rufus cut in. "I've seen what's left of him for myself… How did you overpower such a man?"

"Adrenaline," Weasley shrugged. "Anyway… I managed to take him down, but then Tracey…" the boy trailed off.

"She pushed you out of the way?" Rufus provided, and Weasley gave a slow nod. "What can you tell me about the second attacker? What did he look like?"

"He had very tanned skin," Weasley replied in a distracted manner. Are they too sedated to focus? All of them have been the same so far. "There was a long scar across his nose. Oh, and he looked like a foreigner. Someone not from England, that's for sure." That's not much to go on. I'll have my Aurors start searching for anyone with similar scars.

"You also overpowered this attacker," Rufus said. "Isn't that right?"

"It is," Weasley replied. "He hurt Tracey… And so I attacked him without thinking of the people behind him. I'm sorry… I didn't mean to hurt anyone but him."

"There were no serious injuries," Rufus said, and the boy looked a little relieved. He definitely has empathy, and judging by the tear marks on his face, he also cares deeply about his friends. This side of him doesn't line up with the side of him that I've looked into.

"My first attacker…" the boy said suddenly. "His eyes were milky white." Really?

"Are you sure?" Rufus asked, and Weasley gave a nod. The stabber was under the Imperius Curse? Was he also a victim, then? The second attacker must have been the real assassin. "Mr. Weasley, do you have any enemies who would dare to cause you injury?"

"Clearly, I do," Weasley said distantly. Smart-arse.

"Care to elaborate on that?" Rufus asked, and Weasley looked Rufus over. What is it, boy? Spit it out. "Well?"

"Corban Yaxley, Felix Rosier, Violet Parkinson, and Dolores Umbridge attempted to humiliate me recently," Weasley said. "You should look into them."

"Dolores Umbridge is a Ministry Official," Rufus reminded the boy. "Are you willing to make such an accusation?"

"I'm just giving you my thoughts as you requested," Weasley said. "I don't recall making any accusations." Is he trying to give me a trail to follow? Then he must know far more than he's letting on.

"Hiding information from an Auror is enough to land you in Azkaban for a week," Rufus lied.

"That was a terrible lie," Weasley said calmly. "Use my information if you want, I couldn't care less. Best of luck to you."

Weasley stood up, fixed his coat, and left without hesitation. I need to keep my eyes on him. Just as Weasley left the room, Jane marched in with a furrowed brow.

"We have a problem," Jane said, her eyes darting towards Weasley. "Ron, your parents are waiting to take you home."

"Home?" Weasley asked.

"You're all being excused from your studies," Jane clarified. "It's not compulsory, but I personally recommend it. Now, go on. Don't keep them waiting."

Weasley did as he was told, and once he was gone, Jane shut the door.

"What problem?" Rufus asked.

"The first attacker is dead," Jane said. What?

"How?" Rufus demanded.

"Pomfrey had him moved to the Hospital Wing for treatment, and he seized the opportunity to drink poison from his ring," Jane reported. "The poison burned right through him, killing him instantly."

"That's not something that an innocent man would do," Rufus grimaced.

"Innocent?" Jane asked.

"Weasley didn't tell you about the first attacker's eyes?" Rufus asked, and Jane shook her head. "The man was under the Imperius Curse."

"He was a puppet for the second attacker?" Jane asked. This is why she needs to remain in the field. She's got the perfect mind for it. "And he wasn't a civilian… We need to identify this man. His identity could lead us to the second killer."

"Go back to the Ministry and get started, I'll join you briefly," Rufus began limping towards the exit. "I have an important errand to run."

---

Alastor Moody's POV

Saturday 23rd January, 1994 (Entrance Hall – Late Afternoon)

Alastor searched the crowd of worried parents with a keen interest; the attacker could still be here. If they were bold enough to attack the boy in public, they might be mad enough to try to break into Hogwarts.

All the first signs of war were there, just like they had been before the first war, but once again, people were blind to the coming threat. People often labeled Alastor as 'Mad' and 'Paranoid', but they were the mad ones. Alastor was vigilant, and that had saved his life countless times. If Amelia does run for Office, I want her to out the Dark Lord. The public will listen to her, and they will finally start thinking again.

Alastor's Magical-Eye suddenly darted towards the left, automatically seeking the sudden spike in Magic. Rufus. The Head Auror was limping down towards Alastor, a displeased frown on his face. He must have heard about the first attacker's death.

"Does anyone stand out?" Rufus asked as he came to a stop.

"No," Alastor replied. "Just loud, annoying parents."

"I feel like I'm back in time," Rufus said. "Just before the first war started."

Alastor smirked a little to himself, at least Rufus Scrimgeour wasn't so easily mislead. His eyes never miss a thing, as he always says.

"Did you learn anything from the children?" Alastor asked.

"Only Weasley had something of note to share," Rufus frowned. "The first attacker was under the Imperius Curse." Then why would he poison himself? He was clearly a criminal.

"There were two parties there," Alastor deduced.

"Exactly," Rufus said. "Jane's gone to identify the first attacker, which will hopefully give us a promising lead."

"Keep me in the loop," Alastor said, his eyes travelling back to the crowd of parents in the Courtyard.

"Did you look through the file I gave you?" Rufus asked. Not this again…

"I did," Alastor replied. "The boy is certainly odd, but not enough to warrant such an investigation. We need to focus on the war, Rufus, not on the affairs of a child."

"He is no ordinary child," Rufus countered. "He knows a lot more about this attack than we do, and yet, he refuses to share that information with us. And don't even get me started on what he did to his first attacker."

"It was self-defense," Alastor said. "I've seen people do much worse."

"You've seen other thirteen year olds capable of such brutality?" Rufus cocked an eyebrow.

"He's almost fourteen," Alastor said, earning a dark frown from his old friend.

"Just ask around about him," Rufus said with forced control. "I want to know what the adults in his life think of him."

"I don't need to ask around," Alastor said. "They respect him, and they all love him as their own."

"And this doesn't strike you as odd?" Rufus asked. It does, but knowing what he's going through, I think it's rather natural that they all dote on him.

"What strikes me as odd is how you came across his private medical records," Alastor looked into Rufus' yellow eyes. "How does the British Head Auror come across medical scans taken in France? You have no authority there."

"I did what was necessary," Rufus said coldly.

"You broke the law," Alastor growled. "The Rufus I remember fighting beside would never shame himself by throwing his ideals into the dirt. He was a man who served a higher cause than his own selfish vindication."

"The war changed us all," Rufus maintained his coldness.

"It did, but the rest of us focused on rebuilding the world, while you chose to stay in the fight," Alastor said.

"Someone had to hunt down the filth, and my superiors bestowed that duty upon me," Rufus reminded Alastor. You could've refused them, brother…

"Leave the boy alone, and focus on the coming battles," Alastor advised. "The Dark Lord has been quiet for too long, which doesn't bode well for us."

"Don't let his illness blind you, Alastor," Rufus said as he turned to leave. "That boy is not what he seems."

Rufus left at that, the sound of his cane echoing through the empty hallways of Hogwarts. Alastor remained in his spot, his eyes returning to the crowd of parents. A part of him wanted to investigate Weasley, of course, but too many other important matters were on his mind. The Order's progress was slowing down again, which wasn't a good sign considering the state of things.

The promised soldiers were no where to be seen, the French had yet to send any sort of aid, the Dark Lord had once again vanished, Amelia's camp was not happy about being forced to work with the Order, the Order had lost its best, and only, spy, and Albus was beginning to resemble his old self much more often. There was an air of decisiveness around him that Alastor had not seen since the final few years of the first war. Personally, Alastor preferred this Albus Dumbledore over the wacky old fool everyone had become so used to, but the rest of the world didn't share his opinion. The Order certainly didn't, and that was causing issues.

Every single member of the Old Guard followed Albus because he shared their ideals and beliefs, and this included Alastor himself. Albus had inspired them to fight against the Dark Lord, and he had done it without force. He had earned their respect instead of demanding it. But something's changed… Recently, he's becoming more and more authoritative. And he continues to fill our ranks with questionable people. The Greengrasses, those three new Slytherin recruits that he mentioned, the French… The Davis Family was the only choice that I could agree with. Is Snape behind this change? They do spend a lot of time together. No… Snape has no love for these people, and he wouldn't go out of his way to secure them a place on the boat. So many things don't make sense… It's like someone is orchestrating everything, bringing all of us together to fight against the Dark Lord.

"Wotcher!" Tonks walked into the Entrance Hall from the Courtyard. "See anything suspicious?!"

"Lower your damn voice," Alastor snarled.

"Relax, no one can hear me," Tonks placed herself to his right, a bright smile on her face.

"Get rid off that smile," Alastor frowned. "A girl is dead, Tonks…"

"I know," Tonks sniffled, making Alastor blink. "If I don't smile right now, I'm going to start crying again…" The British Aurors Department is doomed. "I overheard Arthur and Molly telling the Slytherins that their friend was still fighting… I wish I could believe that. With her current state, she'll probably never recover… Poor Mr. and Mrs. Davis… I hate seeing the victim's Family after, it's always so hard to keep a strong face, you know?" I know.

"Snape managed to break the Curse, so maybe there's still hope," Alastor said, though he didn't believe his own words.

"Professor Snape…" Tonks shook her head in disbelief. "I used to hate everything about him, but I guess I just made assumptions like everyone else. He actually managed to withstand torture from the Dark Lord… He must be as powerful as the Headmaster." I highly doubt that, but his mental fortitude certainly rivals Albus'. Perhaps that's why they are drawn to each other?

"Why did you leave your post?" Alastor asked, changing the subject.

"Oh, I'm heading home," Tonks replied. "Apparently, this case is far too interesting to leave in the hands of a rookie. Madam Bones sent a messenger who dismissed anyone who isn't a veteran." Ugh… The red tape. I certainly don't miss that.

"Go back to headquarters instead," Alastor said. "I need you to pull Mungdungus aside, and then order him to find out more about this attack. We need to know if it's related to the Order or not."

"I'll get onto it."

---

Arthur Weasley's POV

Saturday 23rd January, 1994 (Hospital Wing – Late Afternoon)

Someone had tried to behead his youngest son, a fact that Arthur was still struggling to accept. Ron, a thirteen year old, was nearly beheaded. Just like his uncles. Molly had taken this news with anger instead of shock, and unlike her husband, she was making sure that all the children were looked after. Theodore in particular. Poor boy… He's still covered in his friend's blood. Where is his father?

"Arthur?" Molly shook him out of his thoughts. "Arthur? Are you there?" I need to focus. My son needs me right now.

"Did you ask them?" Arthur looked to her. "What did they say?"

"Draco already agreed to go back with Andromeda, she's not let go of him since she arrived," Molly started. "Theodore keeps insisting that his father will come to save him-"

"Save him?" Arthur blinked.

"Something is terribly wrong with him, Arthur," Molly said with a strained voice. "I'm going to ask him to come with us again, and I need you to help me this time. We can't leave him alone."

"I'll come with you," Arthur promised her. "Tell me about the rest."

"Daphne is refusing to leave Tracey's side, the poor girl…" Molly restarted. "Millicent is leaving with her parents, and they're taking Pansy with them."

"The Parkinsons aren't here?" Arthur asked.

"Does that even surprise you?" Molly asked in response. "You should keep helping Ronnie free Pansy from her parents."

"Molly, it's a bit more complicated-" Arthur started.

"Ask your Ministry friends," Molly said quickly. "Put your connections to use and show Ronnie that you can be trusted. He needs to put more faith in his father, Arthur." No one can help Pansy escape her parents. Only she can do that.

"What about Blaise?" Arthur asked. "I don't know much about him, but I don't see any parents here for him."

"Oh," Molly made an odd sound, her eyes watering up a little. "He said that he'd go wherever Ronnie was going… It was the sweetest thing I've ever heard."

"Then we need to convince Ron to come home with us," Arthur said, and Molly nodded her agreement.

"Hello," came a voice from behind him, and Arthur nearly jumped due to how cold it was.

"Ronnie? I thought you were resting," Molly immediately looked fretful. He didn't overhear us, did he?

"I couldn't sleep," Ron said, his eyes fixed on Arthur's. "I've been thinking, and I've decided that I want to stay at Hogwarts."

"What? Why?" Molly asked, her brow furrowing.

"I might need the Astronomy Tower soon," Ron replied.

"Astronomy Tower?" Arthur asked slowly. "Whatever for?"

"I have an Astronomy assignment coming up," Ron explained. "If the weather is good, I need to go up there and chart the stars. I can't do that at the Burrow."

"Ron, you've been through something terrible today," Arthur started. "You need to come home and rest-"

"I want to keep busy, dad," Ron cut in. "If I sit down and start thinking about Tracey… I'll go crazy. I'm already starting to panic, despite being on the Calming Draught. I need to keep busy. Please."

"Arthur… Say no…" Molly whispered. "He has to come home."

"I'll be visiting Tracey, so we'll still see each other everyday," Ron said. "Just do me this one favor, dad. Please." Merlin… What he's saying is making sense, but I want him to come home. What do I do?

"Your friend, Blaise, wants to stay with you," Arthur started. "If you come home, then we can look after him as well. Don't you want to stay with your friends? They need you right now. I'm sure that you can convince Theodore to come as well."

Something flickered behind Ron's eyes, and he suddenly looked a little uncertain.

"I can work from home…" Ron said, nodding to himself. "You're right, dad. I shouldn't leave my friends…" I got through to him?! Yes! "I'll go grab Theo and Blaise, and then we'll start packing up our trunks."

Ron wandered off without wasting a moment, while Arthur turned to his wife with a slightly triumphant look.

"He listened to you," Molly was beaming at him. "Oh, Arthur! He's coming back to us!"

Arthur struggled to keep his smile from taking over his face, a feat he only managed to accomplish when he thought about James and Susana's situation. I should ask Sebastian to let Daphne stay with us. That way, most of them will be together under one roof. It's sure to do them some good, and Molly can keep her eyes on all of them.

---

Lord Voldemort's POV

Saturday 23rd January, 1994 (Nott Manor – Late Evening)

"Crucio!" the Dark Lord screamed, and Corban howled in agony as his battered form writhed upon the bloody, wooden floor.

"Depulso!" the Dark Lord sent Amycus Carrow through a window.

"Maledictus flagella," the Dark Lord left a permanent black lash across Thorfinn Rowle's back.

From the corner of his vision, Lord Voldemort spotted Bartholomew Goyle trying to crawl away. Wretch!

"Incendio!" Lord Voldemort burned the flesh from the man's back, causing Goyle to bellow and weep for the Gods' mercy. "All of you are worthless fools! And I should see you all burned at the stake!"

"We could not have known… my Lord…" Nott coughed out, his trembling hands covering the bloody cut on his leg. "Please… Mercy, my Lord…"

"Beg for mercy again, and I will tear your tongue out of your skull!" Lord Voldemort sent old fool flying into a chair, not caring an ounce for his life. "Is my will to be defied at every turn?! Is Lord Voldemort not your Master?!"

"We serve… at your pleasure, my Lord…" Lucius tried to stand on his broken leg, something that caused him to wince in agony.

"And yet, you all put your own schemes ahead of my orders!" the Dark Lord Non-Verbally shattered Lucius' other leg.

Lucius' screams echoed throughout the empty receiving room. The Dark Lord had set upon his minions as soon as they had come through the fireplaces. There would be no escape from punishment, not this time. My Heir was ordered to be beheaded?! Like some common Blood-Traitor?! Which one of these fools was behind this?! I will see their flesh from their bones!

The fireplace right in front of Lord Voldemort came to life, and a sweaty Egbert Parkinson wobbled into the dark greeting room in his uniform.

"Useless cur!" the Dark Lord shrieked, his body flying towards the man.

"My Lord, please!" Egbert screamed, his hands going up in surrender.

The Dark Lord slashed his wand against Egbert's chubby fingers, severing most of them with the precision of a sharp blade. The fat man screamed at the top of his lungs, fat tears rolling down his puffy cheeks.

"You worthless, fat degenerate!" the Dark Lord showered Egbert with electricity, forcing Egbert's body to twitch in unnatural ways. "I will feed your heart to Fenrir… When he is able to chew again, that is!"

The Dark Lord looked away from a smoking Egbert, his blazing red eyes falling on Fenrir's broken form.

"The great revolutionist!" the Dark Lord mocked cruelly. "The Werewolf King! Fenrir Greyback!"

"I beg… for mercy…" Fenrir managed to mumble through his bloody mouth.

"Crucio!" Lord Voldemort hissed, and Fenrir howled like a wounded pup. "Who else would plot against my will?! Speak! Lord Voldemort will not stop until one of you comes forth!"

"Ask the idiot in the uniform about his wife," came Gaspard's voice, the Vampire was casually leaning against a bloodied wall. "He told us that he would find his wife, but he arrived alone."

"Egbert, come to me!" the Dark Lord turned in the man's direction.

Egbert heaved like a newborn babe as he stood up, his weeping could be heard over everyone else's. The man limped over, a rough sob tearing its way out of his mouth.

"Stop your mewling," the Dark Lord hissed as he slapped the man. "Where is your wife, Egbert? Speak, or see your tongue forever silenced by your Master's hand!"

"I could… could not… find her…" Egbert sobbed, trying to hide his carved hands in his stomach like a little child.

"Could not find her…" the Dark Lord shook with wrath. "Gaspard, you may eat this one…"

"Please!" Egbert dropped onto his knees. "Please, my Lord… She hides things from me… I am not to blame for her actions. Take her life, not mine!"

"Then present her to me!" the Dark Lord sent the fool flying across the room.
"Find Violet Parkinson, or I will have all of your heads! The first to find her may continue to serve me! The rest… Well, your Lord will not forgive you a second time."

"Use the smart lad for this," Gaspard advised, he sounded amused. "Oi! Felix! Are you up for another chance to prove yourself?!"

The Dark Lord looked around, and when he finally found Felix, he grimaced in disgust. The bloodied boy was unconscious in his own piss and shit.

"Natalia, start healing them," Gaspard ordered. "At this rate, we'll be serving our Dark Majesty alone."

"You play with fire, beast," the Dark Lord eyed Gaspard with ill intent. "Hold your tongue near me, or I'll make you swallow it."

Gaspard just smiled; if this was his day to die, then so be it. Centuries of carnage gave birth to this beast, and I'm no longer sure that I can control it.

"You have a break-in to prepare for, don't you?" the Dark Lord hissed.

"Almost had me there," Gaspard's smile turned into a smirk. "I'll be on my way, then. Natalia will let you know when all of your minions are in one piece again."

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 23rd January, 1994 (St. Mungo's Critical Ward – Late Evening)

Everything felt hazy, as if he were in a vivid dream. Maybe it was the Calming Draught's fault? Or maybe it was due to Ron turning off his brain willingly for a change? Somehow, with the help of his Occlumency and the Calming Draught, Ron had managed to turn all noise into distant whispers. He was all alone, safely hidden on his own island to plot his next move.

There remained only two courses before him.

If Tracey came out of her shock-induced coma, Ron was going to stay by her side while she recovered from her injury. He'd let the Aurors take care of everything, while he focused on repaying her for saving his life.

But if she didn't wake up… If she died because she chose to save his life…

Ron would start by reaching out to Solomon and Emilia; the Headmaster no doubt planned to ask Solomon to look into this, which Ron would use to his advantage. Instead of working for the Headmaster, Solomon would hand Ron the information that he would recover. Step by step, Ron would catch up to his executioner. From there, Ron would find the Lord, or Lady, behind this, and they would feel his wrath. And once I've had my vengeance… I will restart the Cycles. Tracey will live in the Cycle that succeeds, I'm sure of it.

His eyes moved towards his mother, who was holding onto Theo and whispering words of comfort in his ears. Actually, all the children had an adult with them… All of them except for Ron, who stood alone by the window. His mind was too occupied, and so no adult could reach out to him. Not even Pandora, whose presence frightened him a little. How could I not save Tracey? Why wasn't I ready?

Why hadn't the Entity warned him?

"They wanted me to die, Ron…" came a familiar voice, and Ron looked around with a suddenly alert gaze. Tracey? Is that you?

No response came, and Ron slowly lost his alertness. No… Tracey's gone… I fucking failed her.

"Kid? Do you want something to eat?" Sirius cut into Ron's thoughts. "I'm heading out to get us all some food while we wait. Do you want to come with me?"

"I want to wait for Tracey," Ron looked back to the window.

"I see…" Sirius smiled apologetically. "Can I get you something, though? You should eat."

"Get me whatever you're having," Ron said distantly. Would starving to death hurt less than jumping off of the Astronomy Tower? No… I hate feeling hungry. Astronomy Tower it is, then.

Sirius waited for a bit, but when Ron didn't say anything, the man left to get everyone some food. Did I reach too far too quickly? Is that why this happened? Will the Entity teach the next Ron to be more prudent? What happens to me? Where do I end up? Ron rested his forehead against the cold glass, his eyes tearing up. Why was I distracted…? I wasn't supposed to lose…

"Ron," came Lord Greengrass' voice, and Ron felt the man's hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right, son?" Son?

"It's son now, is it?" Ron spoke to the glass. "If an assassination attempt was what was needed to pull you out of your foul mood with me, I'd have arranged one sooner."

"I will ignore that because you are distressed and under the influence of a potion," Lord Greengrass sighed out. "Why aren't you with the others? Why are you standing here alone?"

"Why aren't you with Daphne?" Ron asked in response. "If she's not with you, then where is she?"

"She fell asleep…" Lord Greengrass said, a hint of sorrow in his voice. "She always falls asleep after she lets her emotions out."

"After she lets her emotions out?" Ron repeated. "Is having a mental breakdown about your dying best friend 'letting one's emotions out' in your mind?"

"Why are you trying to start a fight with me?" Lord Greengrass asked calmly. "Do you somehow hold me responsible for this?"

"People like you," Ron snarled, softly banging his head against the glass. "Followers of the Old Ways…" We'll kill them all.

Lord Greengrass shook his head, and then left without another word. I hope he survives the next Cycle… I'll beg the Entity to make him a part of its plans.

---

Neville Longbottom's POV

Saturday 23rd January, 1994 (The Great Hall – Dinnertime)

Every student was discussing the attack in Hogsmeade, including the Golden Trio. Most people were speaking about Tracey Davis' bravery in the face of danger, especially Hermione, who was genuinely awed for a change. Only a few spoke about someone wanting to behead Ron, and all the implications that came from such a barbaric act.

Neville was currently talking to Harry, Seamus, and Dean about Tracey being sorted into the wrong House, an opinion that he and Harry didn't share with Dean and Seamus.

"It's true that she's a bit different from her friends," Harry started. "But trust me, she's more clever than brave." Wait… Is he questioning her bravery?

"More clever than brave?" Dean scoffed. "She dove in front of a Curse to save her friend's life! That is the definition of brave!"

"I wasn't trying to say that she isn't brave," Harry frowned a bit. "She's clearly braver than most. I'm just saying that she's more Slytherin than Gryffindor. People from other Houses can be brave too, Dean. That's what I'm really saying." Oh… That's a bit unexpected.

Neville couldn't help but smile at Harry, something that made Harry visibly uncomfortable.

"Are you boys talking about Tracey?" Lavender cut into their conversation, her friends also leaning in. "She never looked it, but she must be quite the witch, huh? I don't think I'd have been able to move, let alone dive in front of a friend who's in danger of losing his head!"

"Quiet down, you idiot," Seamus hissed, his eyes darting towards the ever-watchful Professors. "Don't talk about the beheading-"

"Don't call me an idiot," Lavender looked vexed.

"Why are you always so rude?" Parvati asked Seamus.

"I'll be as polite as you need me to be once you lot start using your heads," Seamus remarked, and an argument broke out on the table. Seriously?

"You reckon Ron's all right?" Hermione asked worriedly, and Neville turned his attention to her.

"I have no idea," he said apologetically. "We can all write to him tomorrow, if you want."

"That's a good idea," Harry agreed. "We can also go and see him, I reckon. I'll ask Remus to talk to Dumbledore for us."

"I think we should visit Tracey instead," Hermione suggested. Tracey? Not 'Davis'? "Ron will probably be with her while she recovers, and it's her that we need to show support to right now."

"Can't we just show support to them both?" Harry asked.

"Ron doesn't strike me as the sort to need support from others," Neville said. "I agree with Hermione, Harry. We'll keep an eye on Ron, but it's Tracey who needs to be attended to. We should go and talk to her once she's allowed visitors."

"All right," Harry nodded. "Should we get her something?"

"We can't bring food into a hospital," Hermione bit her bottom lip. "Oh, doesn't she have a Walkman? She's always listening to music, isn't she?" A Walkman? What's that?

"You're right," Harry suddenly flinched, his fingers scratching his scar again. "We'll get her more cassette tapes."

"That way, she'll have something to listen to as she gets better," Hermione quickly made a note of it on her journal.

"Um… I'm not following…" Neville spoke up.

"I'll explain it later," Harry promised. "By the way, Nev, where's Ginny?"

"I think all the Weasleys were sent home," Neville replied. "None of them are here."

"I hear that they'll be back tomorrow," Hermione said. "Poor Ginny… She was spending more time with Ron and his friends, wasn't she? I wonder how she's taken this…"

Harry and Hermione continued on about Ginny and Tracey, while Neville found his thoughts overtaking his mind. Who would want to behead Ron? It has to be Lord Yaxley, right? Wasn't he going after Ron during the Holidays? I wonder what Gran makes of all of this. I think I'll send her an owl, and learn from what she has to say.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 23rd January, 1994 (St. Mungo's Critical Ward – Late Evening)

"I'm sorry, but she's just not responding to any of our treatments," the Healer said, and Susana Davis let out a strangled sob. "We can keep her alive until you've all said your goodbyes."

"We will wait," James Davis spoke up, his voice shaking. "Don't take her off the potions until we say so."

"Of course," the Healer gave a nod. "She will be well looked after here, I promise."

The world began to spin around Ron, everything becoming murky and distorted. There was but one path left now.

Vengeance, and then, eternal torment.

---

Corban Yaxley's POV

Tuesday 26th January, 1994 (Felix's Apartment - Midday)

Corban had elected to sleep on Felix's couch, neither of them felt safe going back home. Their Master's wrath had left them both too wounded to show their faces, and Corban was personally tasked with making sure that Felix went through Egbert's ledgers in the hopes of finding Violet Parkinson's hiding hole. Sadly, Felix was failing to live up to the task.

The boy had always been damaged, losing his entire Family when he was barely out of diapers. When Corban had first laid eyes on the boy, Felix wasn't even able to address adults without hiding his gaze. Due to owing Evan Rosier his life, Corban had gone to great lengths to show Felix that he had a place in this world. But now, the Dark Lord's punishment had undone years of work on Corban's part, and the poor boy was quickly becoming unwound.

Limping was all Corban could manage these days; the Vampire hadn't healed anyone but Felix properly, another thing that was eating away at Corban's mind. Does she fancy him as her next meal? If so, I will have her thrown to my dogs. One wobbly step at a time, Corban pushed himself into Felix's room.

"Felix…" Corban rasped. "Are you looking through the ledgers?"

No response came, and Corban focused his eyes to look around the room. Slowly, his eyes found Felix sitting in a corner, huddled up in a blanket. The sight took Corban back many years, and he found himself staring at a recently bullied Felix from the boy's Hogwarts years. Focus, Corban! Stay on the task at hand, or he'll kill us both!

"Felix? What are you doing?" Corban limped over to his ward, all but falling on one knee in front of the young wizard. "The ledger… Why aren't you going through it?"

"I don't want this…" Felix muttered shamefully.

"What?" Corban began feeling lightheaded. The Cruciatus Curse's aftereffects are catching up to me. I can't stay awake for much longer.

"He was different in the stories…" Felix spoke in a shaky voice. "Evan used to tell me all these tales… The Dark Lord was a hero…"

"There are no heroes in this world, Felix…" Corban put his hands on the young man's shoulders, mostly just to steady himself. "The Dark Lord cannot be controlled… He can only be appeased."

"Appeased?" Felix sniffled, his bottom lip trembling.

"Without him, our beliefs can never be made reality," Corban said gravely, Felix needed to hear this. "I'm certain that when he first came into power, his 'Knights of Walpurgis' secretly planned to control him as their puppet leader. His might would see their dreams come to reality, after all… But the Dark One… We lesser men cannot control him… We must appease him, and gratefully receive the rewards that he offers for success. Now that he's back… Our only way to rise, and survive, is to serve him better than all the rest. Do you understand?"

"We… We can leave…" Felix trembled. "I can get us Portkeys, while you collect Lysandra and Lady Yaxley… We can run away together as a Family…"

"Rip that thought from your head," Corban struggled to keep his vision clear. "You listen to me, all right? Don't think like that. He will see your thoughts, and we'll both pay with our lives. He'll even kill Lysandra and Anastasia…" Corban then drew in a sharp, but raspy, breath. "Please, Felix… I need you to find that bitch… I am in no shape to help you this time. My fate now rests… in your hands…"

Corban fell forward, but Felix caught him in time. I can't die here… Who will protect Magical England once I'm gone? I have so much work left to do…

---

Lucius Malfoy's POV

Tuesday 26th January, 1994 (Nott Manor – Evening)

Another epic disaster in the long line of recent failures by our Ministry!

A young witch, only thirteen years of age, now lies lifeless within St. Mungo's Hospital, and our country's Aurors are still clueless on how to do their jobs. Not a single promising lead has been found according to this Journalist's reliable sources, despite the entire country's call to arms.

Many of us seek justice for this poor girl, and her grieving parents, but we are denied our righteous retribution due to the Head Auror, Rufus Scrimgeour, being late to the scene. The murderers were long gone by the time Rufus Scrimgeour arrived at Hogwarts, and then, as if to rub salt into mortal wound, the Aurors mishandled the only captured attacker.

The assassin took his own life before he was questioned, taking his secrets with him to the afterlife. All we know for certain now is that Ronald Weasley was the target, and that the attackers were attempting to behead the rising star.

In a heroic act of self-defense; the young wizard fought off his attackers, even badly injuring one of them. Ronald Weasley was not injured in the attack, however, which was only thanks to Tracey Davis; a brave girl who threw herself between an Unknown Curse and her unsuspecting friend.

Two children attacked within Hogsmeade, one of them now in critical condition…

And what have our Aurors done about it?

Nothing.

Our country is still reeling from the Ministry's previous failings, and now, we are mourning the loss of an innocent child.

We here, at the Daily Prophet, send our prayers and love to the Davis Family, and we hope to one-day write an exclusive on Tracey Davis' speedy recovery.

Rita Skeeter

Lucius tossed aside the paper, his fingers digging into his skull. His men had restored his memories after the Dark Lord was done torturing him, and Lucius had nearly lost all hope as a result.

He had played a part in the attack… He was the one who had goaded Violet Parkinson into action, showing her letters that drove her into a rage. It was all a part of his plan, even his temporary Obliviation. His men in Hogsmeade were supposed to stop the attack, but Violet's man had outwitted them. His men in Italy were supposed to move in and capture Violet, but her man had Apparated onto the grounds… 'Talbot', or whatever his real name was, had fought his way inside and rescued Violet Parkinson from Lucius' men.

Violet Parkinson was now in the wind.

Lucius was supposed to come out victorious, and yet, the Gods had turned from him again. If they had favored him for a change, no one except for Violet Parkinson would have been harmed. Lucius would have presented her corpse by now, and since he'd have saved Weasley's life in Hogsmeade, he'd be rewarded with his wife and son's freedom. He could have held his Family to his breast again, and felt the warmth of a loving wife and heir.

"Nott!" came boisterous voice, and Lucius slowly looked towards the door. I know that voice… "Are you here?! Come out of the shadows, coward!" Coward?

The door to the dining room smashed open, and Robert Bulstrode marched in with a deadly look about him. Finally, Robert arrives to meet our Lord. Lucius thought about warning Robert against raising his voice, but opted to stay quiet in the end. Maybe if Robert earned the Dark Lord's ire, Lucius could find time to sneak away and find Violet Parkinson before Felix Rosier divined her whereabouts. That fucking boy will get me killed if I don't hurry things along. Violet will point her finger right at me, and both Narcissa and Draco will pay for my botched plans.

"Lucius?" Robert stopped his march when he saw the faded man. "Merlin's beard… What's happened to you, good man? I haven't seen you-"

"Why are you here, Robert?" Lucius whispered coldly. "And why are you yelling for Cornelius?"

Robert studied Lucius' gaunt cheeks and sunken eyes, and then he looked around the dark dining room.

"Why are you sitting around in Cornelius' dining room?" Robert finally asked. "And why are the candles not lit?"

"Our Lord does not favor the light," Lucius smirked, his eyes darting towards the growing shadow behind Robert. He is here.

"Our Lord?" Robert blinked.

"My favored General…" came a cold hiss, it echoed throughout the dining room unnaturally.

Lucius quickly fell to his knees, kneeling subserviently while a paling Robert turned around to face the spreading shadows. Forgive me, old friend… But my entire life hangs in the balance.

"My… My Lord?" Robert muttered, his tongue had turned to lead. "You live…?"

"Am I still your 'Lord'?" the Dark Lord hissed, and the shadows suddenly surrounded Robert and Lucius completely.

The entire world became pitch-black, save for two blazing red eyes right in front of them. Lucius felt his body break out in a cold sweat, the horrors of the last few days flashing before his eyes. Gods… No… Not again…

"My Lord… I have errands to run…" Lucius spoke before thinking, his body was seizing up. "My home is still a ruin-"

"Get out," the Dark Lord hissed. "I wish to share words with Robert alone."

Lucius didn't waste a second; his body carried him towards the exit as fast as it could. He didn't care that he tripped over his own feet, or that he smashed into furniture due to the pitch-black darkness… He just had to get away from the demon behind him.

He had to fix his mistake before it got his Family killed.

---

Lord Voldemort's POV

Tuesday 26th January, 1994 (Nott Manor – Evening)

"Why do you stay silent, my friend?" the Dark Lord walked around the kneeling man, his blazing red eyes fixed on his latest victim. Did he play a part in endangering my heir?! If so, I will tear him apart in front of his Family! None can be allowed to strike against Lord Voldemort!

"I am lost for words, my Lord…" Robert kept his eyes fixed on the floor. "I had thought you dead…"

"Liar!" the Dark Lord hissed, making Robert flinch a bit. "A man of your means could have easily found me, but you instead claimed to be under my Spell. You turned on me, despite how high I elevated you. You broke your oath to me, Robert."

"I thought you dead, my Lord, I swear it!" Robert said quickly, a hint of panic in his voice. "If there was even a hint of your-"

"Silence!" the Dark Lord hissed, the cloth of his robes moved in to strangle Robert. "Spare me your deceit!"

"Please… My Lord…" Robert choked, his chubby face become redder by the second. "I… am loyal…"

"We shall most definitely see," the Dark Lord spat out, and then he tossed Robert aside.

The large man coughed violently, his neck was already bruising from the Dark Lord's harsh treatment. Lord Voldemort waved his free hand, and Robert's body twisted up into a kneeling position against his will. Robert let out a pained grunt, which he quickly stiffened by gritting his teeth.

"Start by explaining your intrusion," the Dark Lord towered above Robert. You disturbed my work, you fat Neanderthal.

"I was seeking Cornelius, my Lord…" Robert half-panted out.

"Why?"

"The attack in Hogsmeade…" Robert started, and the Dark Lord's eyes blazed even brighter. "My daughter and her friends were attacked… I was trying to find out who was responsible for it..."

"Were you?" the Dark Lord calmed down a little. I can use him. "Go on, Robert."

"My daughter was lucky enough to be out of Hogsmeade at the time, but her friend…" Robert went on, his jaw suddenly clenching in anger. "I wished to avenge my daughter's wounded heart." A doting father? Is this what he's been reduced to? Where is my commander at arms?

"You wished to sooth your daughter's suffering?" the Dark Lord asked, and Robert's blood turned to ice.

He had shown his weakness, hadn't he?

The Dark Lord smiled a lipless smile, his demeanor changing completely.

"I share your pain, Robert," the Dark Lord gestured Robert to rise, which the man promptly did. "I too nearly lost an heir because of that attack."

Robert blinked at that, but he didn't dare question his Master.

"Even as we speak, I have Felix and Corban looking into the whereabouts of Violet Parkinson," the Dark Lord said.

"Felix and Corban know that you're alive, my Lord?" Robert couldn't help but ask.

"They do, and they both kept it from you on my orders," Lord Voldemort replied.

"You… You did not wish me at your side?" Robert looked genuinely bothered by that. His loyalty still remains… This is welcome news.

"I have no army for you to lead, Robert," the Dark Lord said. "Thanks to that fool, Fenrir…" I'm done placing my faith in the dog. I need a man to build my forces.

"You put too much faith in the dog, my Lord," Robert said.

"I put faith in his brutality," Lord Voldemort corrected. "But you might be right, my friend… Fenrir is no recruiter of warriors. He is an animal, and can only muster a force formed in his base image."

"Let me prove my loyalty, my Lord," Robert took the bait. "I will muster you an army that will rival our old one, I swear it."

"And if you fail?" the Dark Lord asked.

"Then you may claim my life, my Lord," Robert bowed his head. Oh, I will.

"Very well, Lord Voldemort accepts," the Dark Lord 'smiled', Robert would prove most useful in the coming days. "But before you start building my forces, I would have you help Felix and Corban. They are searching for Violet Parkinson, and Egbert is aiding them by providing his ledgers."

"Violet was behind the attack?" Robert asked, something shifting behind his eyes. "So it wasn't Cornelius…"

"Cornelius is loyal," the Dark Lord said. "He has not left my side since the attack."

"Which explains why Theodore is living with the Weasleys," Robert nodded to himself. Which also works in my favor. Ronald seems to be fond of his friends, and I would have them at his side. They will protect what is Lord Voldemort's, but once I have Ronald by my side, I will remove all of his past connections. Lord Voldemort does not need such burdens clinging to him.

"Find Violet Parkinson for me, Robert," Lord Voldemort ordered. "And I will allow you to reclaim your old position within my army."

"If Violet is indeed behind this attack, I will kill her with my bare hands, my Lord," Robert promised. "If you allow it, of course."

"I may, after I am done with her," the Dark Lord said. "You-"

The door suddenly creaked open, and Gaspard slid into the room with a happy expression. Why is he constantly showing his face here?

"What is it?" the Dark Lord sneered at Gaspard.

"I've done as you asked," Gaspard reported. "Didn't you read the papers? Rita Skeeter painted Ronald Weasley as some hero to be worshiped."

"And the Aurors?" Lord Voldemort asked.

"They have become the lightning rods for the public's displeasure," Gaspard smirked. "Natalia is keeping her eyes on the situation, but I don't think the Aurors stand a chance of finding Violet before us. Not anymore." Good. Now I just need to cripple the Order's search. Those fools no doubt seek to avenge the Half-Blood girl. Wasn't her father my prisoner? Yes… James… Antonin's living test subject. How many Curses did Antonin perfect using James' body? At least a dozen, I believe.

"Order your Vampires to stay on alert for Order members," Lord Voldemort said. "They will no doubt come looking in Knockturn Alley for leads to follow."

"My Lord, may I speak freely?" Robert spoke up.

"Go on," the Dark Lord allowed, while Gaspard studied Robert from head to toe.

"Do you truly believe that Violet is behind this attack?" Robert asked. You would question my will?

"She is the prime suspect," Gaspard replied. "She suddenly left for a vacation, and ever since the attack, we have been unable to locate her. We found some dead bodies in the Parkinson Villa within Italy, but she wasn't amongst the dead. She has either been captured, or she fled to a safe house because someone attacked her."

"She was also attacked?" Robert looked visibly confused. Someone is clearly plotting to undermine me. They must have helped her attack Ronald, and then moved in to silence her. Which one of these 'Lords' was behind it, though? None of their memories gave away the true culprit's identity.

"This is what comes of schemers working together," Gaspard smiled. "Nobody is able to figure out what the fuck is really going on."

Robert nodded slowly, and then he looked down at the ground. What is it?

"You have something to say, Robert?" the Dark Lord asked.

"Pansy Parkinson… She is staying at my Manor…" Robert replied reluctantly.

"Her spawn lives under your roof, and you wait till now to tell me?" the Dark Lord felt his temper spike.

"She is only a girl, my Lord," Robert said. "I thought it wrong to hide this from you, but I assure you, she knows nothing of such matters."

"That is for Lord Voldemort to decide," the Dark Lord hissed. "Bring her to me."

Robert visibly tensed, something that caused the Dark Lord's eyes to blaze up. I will remold you into the soldier that you once were, even if it means ordering you to take the girl's life! You will not defy me!

"If you bring that girl here, I'll kill you," Gaspard said, and both Lord Voldemort and Robert slowly looked to the tall Vampire.

"What did you-?" the Dark Lord started.

"If you bring that girl here, I'll kill you," Gaspard repeated with a smile. "And then, I'll eat this fat fuck for dinner."

"You… Who are you?!" Robert demanded, his wand already brandished. "You would dare speak to our Lord in this manner?!"

"Put that stick away," Gaspard chuckled, his round shades were still fixed on the Dark Lord. "I told you at the start, Voldemort… You don't hurt children. Not near me."

"Then leave," the Dark Lord turned his head and cracked his neck.

"Well, I can't now, can I?" Gaspard said. "Not when I know what you're up to." This damn Vampire!

The Dark Lord suddenly aimed his wand at Gaspard's face, a faint green light glowing at the tip of the wand. Gaspard didn't even flinch, though he did adorn a twisted grin.

"Please, make my century," Gaspard laughed, causing Robert's jaw to drop open. What kind of fool welcomes Death with such open arms?

"Go back to your creatures," Lord Voldemort lowered his wand. "A foolish little girl won't make any difference in our search. Robert will keep her as a hostage."

"I believe that to be the wisest course of action, my Lord," Robert seized the opportunity to save the girl's life. "I will not let her out of my sight."

---

Charlie Weasley's POV

Wednesday 27th January, 1994 (The Burrow - Morning)

"Charlie?" his father jumped from fright. "What are you doing here, son?"

"I'm here for Ronnie," Charlie patted the ash off of his jacket. "Sorry for being so late, dad… My cunt boss wouldn't let me go, despite this being a Family emergency. Kirsten had to cover my shifts, so I can only stay for a couple of days."

"Slow down, Charlie," Arthur walked up and hugged his son. "It's really good to see you here. Your mother will be over the moon."

"She'll mostly be glad that I left Kirsten behind," Charlie sighed out.

"In her defence, she did almost catch you both…" Arthur trailed off. "Anyway, it doesn't matter… Come in, Bill's eating his breakfast right now." Thank Merlin that I didn't miss him.

Father and son entered the Kitchen together, and Charlie's eyes immediately went towards Bill.

"Molly, look over here for a second," Arthur called out, and Molly quickly turned to face them.

"Charlie!" his mother gasped, and then she barreled right for him and pulled him into a tight hug. "You're home! Did you come for Ronnie?!"

"I did, mum," Charlie kissed the top of her head.

"You're such a good brother," Molly beamed. "Go and sit down, I'll fix you up a proper breakfast." Has she not noticed that Kirsten isn't here?

"I'll be off, then," Arthur looked Charlie over with a proud smile. "When I come back, we'll talk about some training regimens for me, eh? I've gained a bit of weight."

"We'll have you looking fit again before long, dad," Charlie chuckled.

"Your father's stamina would surprise you," Molly giggled, and both Charlie and Bill visibly cringed.

"Ugh, mum," came Bill's voice.

"Seriously?" Charlie grimaced.

"What? We were your age once, you know?" Molly huffed. "How do you think you two came into this world?" I'm going back to the fucking Dragons.

"I'm going to go sit with Bill," Charlie excused himself, while Arthur and Molly smirked at their eldest sons. Mental abuse is what greets you in this house. Fucking gross…

"Where's Kirsten?" Bill smirked as Charlie sat down to his left. "Did you lose her on the way here, you goat?"

"Fuck you," Charlie clicked his tongue. "Where's Ron? Didn't he go for his morning run today?"

"I wish he'd do that," Bill immediately looked down. "He hasn't left his room since he came home. He didn't even say goodbye to the others… Ginny waited by his door for nearly two hours."

"That doesn't sound like Ron," Charlie said. "He made Ginny wait two hours?"

"She wanted to catch him before his morning run, but in the end, she went back to Hogwarts empty handed," Bill put down his utensils, pushing the remaining bacon in Charlie's direction. "I've tried everything, Charlie… Nothing works. He just sits in the dark all day long." Fucking hell…

"What about his friends?" Charlie asked, grabbing a handful of bacon. "You mentioned them in your letter."

"Theo and Blaise aren't doing so well, but Ron lets them into his room," Bill started. "Theo is just so bloody miserable, the poor kid… He was the one who tried to stop the bleeding, but by the time Moody showed up, he was painted red."

"Enough of this talk!" Molly said harshly, slamming Charlie's plate onto the table. "Theo doesn't need to be reminded of what happened to his friend."

"Sorry…" Bill apologized. She called him 'Theo'? I take it that mum has adopted Ron's friends into her own flock.

"That poor girl…" Molly walked away with a slightly haunted look. Tracey Davis… I think I spoke to her only once or twice in passing during their Break. If I had known that she'd take a Curse for Ron, I'd have treated her like my own flesh and blood.

"How is she, by the way?" Charlie asked Bill, he didn't know why he dreaded the answer so much.

"Unresponsive," Bill whispered. "There's barely any 'brain activity'… That's what the Healers keep telling us. They have her on a dozen different potions, and even then, she's barely alive. It's so fucked up…"

"And she was attacked right in the middle of Hogsmeade," Charlie grit out, shaking his head. "Attacking a child… Utter cunts."

"Yeah," Bill agreed. "Anyway, it's good to have you back, brother. I need to get to work, but we'll talk when I come back."

"Sure thing," Charlie started his second breakfast. "I'll try and get Ron out of his room while you're gone."

"Good fucking luck…" Bill muttered under his breath, but Charlie heard him with perfect clarity.

---

Wednesday 27th January, 1994 (The Burrow – Midday)

"You boys feeling better after some eggs?" Charlie smiled at Theo and Blaise.

"Are they your specialty?" Theo asked.

"You should use more salt," Blaise said. "But thank you for making breakfast." They are such weird kids.

"Where is Mrs. Weasley?" Theo asked. I thought my eggs were good… Kirsten likes them.

"She needed a bit of rest," Charlie said. "She'll take you to St. Mungo's when she wakes up."

"Right," Theo nodded. "I'll be in the Garden, then."

"I'll join you for some fresh air," Blaise said aloofly. Guess I'll do the dishes…

Charlie let the boys go for now, choosing instead to clean up the mess before his tired mother saw it. I hope the Order finds this would-be assassin. I'd like some fucking words with him. For some bizarre reason, Charlie did the dishes by hand. After the table was wiped down, Charlie headed for the back door.

Theo was in the Garden, his apron and gloves protecting him from getting dirty. What's he planting? He's really digging into the earth there. Blaise stood by the fence, his eyes set on the clouds beyond the hills. I'll try to talk to him first. Charlie walked over and leaned against the fence, a friendly smile on his face.

"So? What do you think?" Charlie asked. "It has its own charm, right?"

"It's very… cozy," Blaise said, his eyes scanning Charlie. "Can I do something for you, Charlie Weasley?"

"We haven't really met, have we?" Charlie started.

"You're the brother who beat Ron to a pulp," Blaise cut in. "I know you quite well already." Oh…

"It was just a scuffle," Charlie cleared his throat.

"Maybe for you," Blaise said coldly. Give me a break… That little bastard almost robbed me of my future children.

"You seem like a solid friend," Charlie backtracked. "My brother's lucky to have you."

"He is," Blaise said with certainty. "Now, can I ask you why you're here? I wanted to be left alone."

"I want to know about Ron," Charlie came clean. "How is he? Why isn't he coming out of his room?"

"He's in his happy place," Blaise said almost bitterly. "He says and listens to nothing… Just stays focused on his training."

"Training?" Charlie cocked an eyebrow.

"He's always levitating things around the room," Blaise said. "He says that Wandless Magic strengthens the body, which in turn makes him a stronger wizard." He knows about the link between a wizard's body and his Magical Core? That's some advanced information. "It feels like he's preparing for something."

"Preparing for what?" Charlie asked.

"I have no idea, nor do I have cause to prod into his business," Blaise looked back to the clouds. "I need to buy some paints… I want to create a landscape of this scenery."

"You paint?" Charlie asked.

"I paint my fondest memories," Blaise shrugged. "And then I lock them away in my vault." That's a bit creepy… Fucking Slytherins, eh? A truly grim lot.

"I can ask Pandora to get you some," Charlie offered. "She loves painting, so you should go over to the Rookery and have a chat with her."

"And that would be allowed?" Blaise asked with genuine interest, making Charlie blink. "I could just floo away to wherever I please?"

"You're not a prisoner here, if that's what you're getting at," Charlie said. "Floo wherever you want, mate, but just be home by dinner. Don't stress my mother, that's all I ask."

"Then we have a deal," Blaise smiled a little. "Thank you, Charlie."

"No worries, mate," Charlie patted Blaise's shoulder, rocking the lean boy. "Sorry…"

"Please don't forget about the paints," Blaise rubbed his arm, he looked slightly annoyed. Oh, yeah… I can't treat little Lords that way.

Charlie gave Blaise a parting nod, and then he walked over to Theo. The weedy boy was tackling the earth like a champion, expertly digging out unnecessary roots and weeds.

"You really love gardening, eh?" Charlie patted Theo on his shoulder, and the boy turned around with a furrowed brow.

"Please don't step there," Theo sighed out. "I just planted fresh fertilizer there." Fuck me!

"I'm always stepping on shit," Charlie clicked his tongue as he moved off of his spot. "This is why I never took to Herbology."

"Well, you can't expect a brute to understand concepts such as love and nurture," Theo said smugly, and Charlie nodded to himself. He hates me too… Fucking figures.

"Your friend, Blaise, has already given me his seal of approval," Charlie said bluntly. "Go on, ask him."

Theo looked between Charlie and Blaise, and then he shook his head.

"Blaise is a wounded puppy," Theo said. Huh? "If you show him an ounce of kindness, he'll start showing you a hint of respect. I, on the other hand, keep scores. In my books, you're still a twat who beats on his little brother."

"He almost broke my testicles," Charlie said defensively, and Theo grimaced. "I apologized to him, didn't I? Look…" Charlie drew in a deep breath. "I'm just worried for him, all right? I want to make sure that he's eating well. I want to know if he sleeps on time. That sort of stuff…"

"He's not a baby," Theo said. "He takes care of himself, so don't worry on that front. The real worrisome thing is his constant practicing. There are chairs always flying the fuck about. I don't feel safe sleeping that room… What if he drops one on my face?" Pent up little bugger.

"So he's staying healthy?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah, he is," Theo looked back to his work. "Just don't push him, all right? He's blaming himself for the whole thing… Says that he reached too high too quickly, and that this is his punishment. It's disturbing…"

Theo went back to his work, and Charlie quickly moved out of his way. I reckon I'll go up and try to chat with him. He hasn't eaten anything, has he? I'll add some salt in my eggs this time.

---

Wednesday 27th January, 1994 (The Burrow - Midday)

The door partly opened, and Ron stuck his head through the gap. His hair was unkempt, he had dark bags under his eyes, and he was so pale that Charlie couldn't even see his freckles anymore. Fucking hell…

"It's good to see you, Vlad the Impaler," Charlie smirked.

"Do I look like a Vampire?" Ron smiled weakly, and then he opened the door. "Come in, Charlie… When did you come home?"

"In time for breakfast," Charlie replied as he walked in and placed the steaming plate of eggs and bacon on the desk. "You'd know that if you went on your morning run."

"I don't see the point of going out," Ron closed the door. "I can just do my circuit training in here. I'm even considering raising my number of sets." He does look strong, I can't deny that. But why the fuck is he so pale? Is it a lack of sunlight?

"I'm opening the curtains," Charlie said, and before Ron could protest, Charlie flicked his wand and parted the curtains.

Bright golden light filled the room from the chipped window, no had thought to fix it after the twins had shot 'Moody' through it. I can't believe Ron named his Puffskein after Alastor Moody. Dad really loved telling tales of the greatest Auror in British history, didn't he?

"Are you going to see Tracey today?" Charlie asked, turning to face Ron. "Your friends are leaving soon."

"Being there changes nothing," Ron said, a troubled look on his face. "I need to stay busy, or I'll go crazy."

"Is that why you're constantly 'training'?" Charlie asked. "You're keeping busy?"

"Training keeps my mind occupied," Ron walked over to his breakfast. "Did you make this? Mum makes my bacon crispier. Even somewhat burnt."

"I'm the older brother here, you should be making me breakfast," Charlie ruffled Ron's hair, a sudden swell of affection overtaking his worries. "I was really scared for you, Ronnie… I'm glad that you're doing better."

"The same can't be said of Tracey," Ron took a bite of his bacon. "Thanks for the food, Charlie… I'm glad that you're home. I wanted to see you."

"You did?" Charlie asked. "Really?"

"I am who I am today because of you," Ron gave a genuine smile. "Thanks for that… You're a really great big brother."

Charlie was lost for words, so he instead gave Ron a firm nod and patted him on the shoulder. He'll be taller than me soon. Oh, if only I had Bill's height. I'd be a mountain.

"Good man," Charlie said approvingly. "Never forget your roots, Ronnie."

"I won't," Ron promised. "I…" he trailed off.

"Pardon?" Charlie leaned in.

"I… love you very much…" Ron gave Charlie an almost tragic smile.

Charlie could only stare at Ron dumbly, and but then his mind caught up with his situation. What do I say?!

"I love you too, little brother," Charlie patted Ron's cheek lightly. "I'm only here for a couple of days, so please come out occasionally. I'd also love to go running with you while I'm here. Just like old times, eh?"

"Sure…" Ron looked a bit nostalgic. "I'd really like that."

"Then it's settled," Charlie laughed. Take that, Bill! I can't wait to show him what a capable big brother can achieve! I'm the fucking Ron-whisperer!

---

Daphne Greengrass' POV

Wednesday 27th January, 1994 (St. Mungo's Hospital – Evening)

Tracey's cheeks had started to sink in, and the skin around her eyes had begun to turn black. She looked like a corpse, slowly decaying in a pure white hospital gown. Daphne had never fully noticed how bright Tracey was until now, how often she pulled funny faces in order to make Daphne's sides ache with laughter.

Once again, they were all crammed into Tracey's room. Mr. and Mrs. Davis slept on the couch in the corner; neither of them had gone home since the attack. Theo and Blaise just sat by Tracey's feet, both of them reading their schoolbooks. Mrs. Weasley was braiding Pansy's hair in the bathroom, while Millie occupied herself with practicing her wand movements near the window. And as for Daphne… She sat right beside Tracey, her hands always tending to her friend's every need.

Ron had never returned after Saturday, and quite frankly, Daphne didn't blame him. Ron had his own way of dealing with grief, she knew that quite well by now. She had decided to let Ron find his way back to his friends, which in turn helped her focus solely on Tracey. Daphne had even offered to aid the Medi-Witches during their rounds, but was denied in a rather patronizing manner. I can still help in other ways.

Gently, Daphne cleaned the sweat from Tracey's brow, a sorry smile on her face. Daphne wasn't a complete fool… She knew that by the end of the week, Mr. and Mrs. Davis would take Tracey off of her potions. The Healers had all given up, all of them stating that forcefully waking her up could cause even more damage.

Soon, Tracey would be gone forever…

All Daphne could do was to cherish small things like keeping her friend in a presentable state, hoping to forge just a couple more memories with her best friend before they were ripped apart by the Three Fates.

"Um… Daphne, you might want to look at this," came Millie's voice, and Daphne looked towards the entrance. The Golden Trio is here?

"May we come in?" Longbottom took a step inside. "Or is this a bad time?"

"Please, come in," Daphne said, she didn't mind Longbottom's company. He is clearly capable of having fun, especially when he's drunk. Plus, he doesn't judge people by their Houses, and I like that. It reminds me of Ron.

Longbottom led the way inside, and Granger and Potter quietly followed. All three of them immediately looked to Tracey, all of their faces visibly dropping. For some reason, that stung Daphne really painfully.

"Um…" Granger swallowed thickly, her eyes tearing up. I'm guessing that Granger's the weepy sort… Who'd have figured that? Who am I to judge, though? I've done nothing but cry for the last few days… "What do the doctors say about her condition…?"

"The Healers can't do anything for her anymore," Theo replied bluntly. "It's over…"

"Don't say that," Millie said from the window, but Theo just kept his eyes on his book. First his mother, and now Tracey… Theo must be in hell right now.

"Really?" Potter muttered, his emerald eyes fixed on Tracey. "What about Phoenix Tears? Professor Dumbledore would surely help you guys."

"She's not hurt anymore, Potter," Blaise said. "She's not even here… She's gone…"

Daphne flinched a bit, but she didn't say anything. She can still come back. I can't let them get to me. Daphne looked back to Tracey's bloodless face, and her heart sank. I can't lose Tracey as well… That's not fair…

"Are you okay?" Granger asked Daphne.

"Why are you here?" Daphne asked in response, somehow managing to keep her voice even. "Why is Potter carrying that big box?"

"Oh… The Gryffindors all pitched in for a get-well present," Longbottom said, and all the Slytherins looked to him. They did? "They gave Hermione the money, and she went with Professor McGonagall to Muggle London."

"I bought cassette tapes from all the best artists right now," Granger said. "She's always listening to her Walkman, so we figured that we'd give her plenty of music to listen to while she recovered…"

"While she recovers," Potter corrected.

"Oh, of course…" Granger looked guilty immediately. "Sorry…"

"That's a really thoughtful gift," Millie spoke up for the group. "Thank you. We'll give it to her when she wakes up."

"Not all of you are here," Longbottom noticed, and then he looked to Theo. "Where's Ron? And I don't see Malfoy and Parkinson either."

"Pansy's in the bathroom with Mrs. Weasley," Theo started. "Malfoy is… I don't know… At his aunt's house, or something. And as for Ron…" Theo looked to Daphne.

"He doesn't do well sitting in one spot," Daphne said. "If he was here, he'd just be in stressing himself into becoming sick. He doesn't need that." If they force him to come here, I will start Hexing people.

"Shouldn't he be here with all of you?" Longbottom asked. "For his own sake?"

"Blaise and Theo are staying at the Burrow, and they've kept their eyes on him," Daphne replied. "He's grieving in his own way, and we need to leave it at that. He doesn't need this kind of stress." It could take weeks off of his life.

Longbottom exchanged a look with Theo, who simply shrugged at him. Daphne went back to taking care of Tracey, why was she letting herself be distracted? From what Daphne could overhear, though, she learned that the Trio planned to stay here for the entire day. It didn't really bother her… School rivalry seemed like an idiotic concept right now. Maybe people like Tracey, Ron, and Longbottom are ahead of the curve, and we're the ones who are slacking behind.

Daphne smiled a little at Tracey, she really was the best sort of person… I wish I hadn't taken her for granted. I wish I had been there to protect her. I wish I had listened to Ron's warnings.

---

Draco Malfoy's POV

Wednesday 27th January, 1994 (St. Mungo's Hospital – Late Evening)

Why was he here?

Why was he waiting just outside the door?

He had barely slept a wink over the past few days; he couldn't get the image of Theo holding Tracey's dying form out of his head. Whenever he closed his eyes, it was there to haunt him.

Merlin, it had all happened so fucking fast. One minute, Draco was eyeballing Spintwitches Sporting Needs, and the next; he was surrounded by screams. By the time he had realized what had happened, his friend had slipped into a permanent sleep.

Yeah… That's what she was, wasn't she? She was his friend… One of only two…

Maybe that's why he found himself crying at unexpected intervals. He was mourning Tracey Davis, a girl who he had shown nothing but contempt to in life. Other than Weasley, Tracey was the only one who ever spoke to him willingly, and Draco had only ever rewarded her kindness with scorn and bitterness.

And why did he do this?

Because she was a Half-Blood… He was still trying to follow his Family's legacy, wasn't he? He had thrown his lot in with his Godfather, and yet, he was still holding onto his father's beliefs… Why?

What were his beliefs? What did Draco Malfoy stand for?

Whatever he did believe in, it didn't allow for the murdering of children.

What had happened to Tracey was wrong, plain and simple. Draco hadn't even bothered to think of a reason that would validate the murder of an innocent girl, one who was kinder than most of the Hogwarts student population. Tracey didn't gossip, she didn't spread rumors, she didn't cause anyone any pain, and she didn't even ignore her childhood bully. Sure, she was insecure and had a habit of feeling ostracized for no reason, but she was also the sort of person who saw the best in people. Even someone like me… She didn't deserve this. Whoever did this to her deserves to rot in Azkaban forever.

He drew in a sharp breath, and then he pushed himself through the door. He hadn't just come here to see Tracey; he had information about the attack to share with the others. Perks of living with a chatty Auror.

The first thing Draco noticed was that there were too many people in the room, and that not all of them were from Slytherin. The bloody Golden Trio was here, all three of them staring at him as if he was the intruder. Are they here to check up on Tracey? Or are they here to check up on Weasley? Draco walked further into the room, ignoring the surprised looks on Bulstrode and Pansy's faces. Instead, he mustered the courage to shoot a quick glance at Tracey.

For some odd reason, she looked much better than Draco had envisioned… Her brown hair was almost styled, her white hospital gown was wrinkle-free, and all of her many gifts were neatly packed around her bed. And yet, her lifeless skin and sinking face reminded Draco of the truth… She was only breathing because the Healers were feeding her dozens of potions a day. The day they stop, she'll slowly slip into the afterlife…

"I didn't expect you to come," Greengrass said, voicing everyone's opinions. "You haven't been here since Saturday." I couldn't see her… I needed to forget what had happened.

"Me being here would have changed nothing," Draco said calmly, shooting another glance at Tracey. Gods…

"But now it does?" Blaise cocked an eyebrow.

"I need to talk to you lot," Draco looked to each Slytherin. Wait… Where's Weasley?

"Ron's not here," Pansy said, her face falling once again. "He also hasn't been here since Saturday…"

"Pansy, we talked about this," Greengrass shot a meaningful look at Pansy, and the raven-haired witch gave an understanding nod. Greengrass doesn't want to put Weasley under any stress? I guess that's fair… He'd get sick again, wouldn't he?

"Do you want us to leave the room?" Longbottom asked.

"Yes," Draco replied immediately.

"The adults will be back with some food from the cafeteria soon," Bulstrode spoke up. "You can come back inside when they get here." I have no idea about what's going on here, but that doesn't matter right now. I should just tell them what I came to share, and then meet up with Aunt Andromeda near the fireplaces.

"Actually, I'll be heading back to Hogwarts…" Granger said. "I've got a lot of homework left to do."

"Thank you for coming," Greengrass said politely, her eyes drifting back to Tracey.

"Let Ron know that we stopped by," Potter said to Blaise, and then he left for the exit.

Longbottom and Granger quickly followed after the Boy-Who-Lived, leaving the Slytherins free to discuss whatever they wished.

"Why are you here, Malfoy?" Theo asked. "What did you learn at your aunt's house?"

"The Aurors having nothing," Draco replied.

All of their eyes fell a little, and Draco felt guilt creep up on him for some reason.

"How's this possible?" Bulstrode asked. "Didn't they manage to capture one of the attackers?"

"He drank poison, remember?" Blaise said.

"But they couldn't even identify the body?!" Bulstrode began looking angry.

"It hasn't even been a week yet," Theo said. "Give them some time…"

"They're not doing good enough!" Pansy's voice cracked.

"All of that is out of our hands," Greengrass said. "Malfoy, how did you come by this?"

"My aunt's daughter, Nymphadora Tonks, is training to become an Auror," Draco replied. "She was prematurely booted from the case due to her low ranking, and she's been a little sore about it ever since. I've overheard her whining to Aunt Andromeda when they think that I'm asleep."

"You creep around in their house at night?" Blaise cocked an eyebrow. What? No!

"No, I keep my ears open for information," Draco said a little coldly. "I went back with my aunt because I knew about Nymphadora's position within the Ministry… I figured that I'd keep my eyes on things while you all…" he trailed off.

"While we mourned?" Greengrass finished for him, and he gave a curt nod. "You did the right thing, Malfoy… Thank you." Good, she knows that I'm telling the truth. "What else have you overheard?"

"The Order is just as clueless as the Aurors Department," Draco said, and all of them leaned in instinctively. I should speak in a softer voice. If someone overhears us… "A woman named Emmeline dropped by yesterday, she was frustrated about a lack of results. She and my aunt talked about the Order's failed attempts to pry information out of low-level scum. Anyway, listen to this, the Headmaster has some plan brewing, but only the higher ups know about it. Godfather dropped by to see me today, and he told me that I'd 'have my answers soon'. I think he and the Headmaster have some hidden trick up their sleeve."

"Maybe they know who's behind this," Pansy suggested. "Don't you all want to know who it was? Because I do."

"What difference would that make?" Blaise asked. "We're not exactly capable of doing anything about all of this. Just let the Order take care of the culprit."

"What about revenge?" Bulstrode frowned.

"What? You'll have the culprit assassinated?" Theo rolled his eyes.

"No, but when I become Lady Bulstrode, I'll get my closure," Bulstrode said dangerously. "I can be patient, I promise you." Sweet Merlin…

"Has it occurred to you that the real mastermind could be one of our parents?" Theo asked, his eyes fixed on Bulstrode.

"Theo…" Pansy muttered. "Don't say that…"

"Why aren't we discussing this?" Theo asked the others. "We all know who the real target was, don't we?" I hate to think it, but my father was probably the fool behind this. His hatred for the Weasleys is legendary. "One of our damn parents wants Ron dead, and we need to figure out who it is before they strike again."

"Well, it can't be my parents," Greengrass started the conversation. "And it's definitely not Tracey's parents."

"My mother prefers to do her own killing…" Blaise said grimly.

"It could be my father…" Theo said a little bitterly. "I haven't heard a word from him since the attack."

"It's definitely my mother…" Pansy squeaked, and everyone looked to her. "She hates all Blood-Traitors, Ron most of all…"

"When was the last time that you heard from your mother?" Blaise asked.

"A few days before the attack," Pansy swallowed thickly, she looked quite ashamed. "She wrote her usual… abuse… in the letter, so nothing seemed off at the time… But now, she hasn't sent me a single letter since the attack. Even father won't return my letters…"

"Why would she do this?" Draco asked. "There's no political advantage in doing something like this. Half the country is calling for justice, and the moment her name becomes connected to this, she'll be neck deep in shit."

"My mother isn't really…" Pansy trailed off. "She um… She's not very smart…" She's getting jittery.

"It's all right, Pansy," Bulstrode rubbed the girl's back. "No one here would ever blame you for this. Right, you lot?"

"Of course."

"You're one of us."

"Pansy, you're not your mother," Greengrass finished.

"Thanks…" Pansy looked a little overwhelmed by their support, she always was the emotional type.

"If it really is Pansy's mother who's behind this attack…" Theo started. "What do we do about it?"

"I can tell Tonks that Violet Parkinson has always made threats of beheading Weasley to my father," Draco said. "Behind closed doors, of course."

"You'd lie to an Auror?" Greengrass asked.

"It's nothing major, and she can't prove that I'm lying without invading my mind," Draco shrugged. "Regardless of what happens to me, she'll be able to put the Aurors onto Lady Parkinson's trail."

"They'll take her alive…" Theo said darkly.

"And lock her away in Azkaban," Draco said. "We really shouldn't interfere beyond letting Tonks know about Lady Parkinson… We could put ourselves in serious danger if we try to place ourselves between the Aurors and their job."

"Plus, this could be related to You-Know-Who…" Greengrass said. "Malfoy's right about this, Theo… We can't afford to lose another person from this group." Another?

Draco chose to say nothing, he was just glad that he had Greengrass' support in this. Everyone was clearly looking to her for leadership.

"Do we tell Ron, then?" Blaise asked.

"I'm certain that he already knows far more than we do," Greengrass said. "But either way, don't broach the subject with him. When he's finally ready to come back to us, we'll tell him everything." Good to see that we don't need Weasley to function. Greengrass is tougher than she looks.

"Do you want me to talk to Tonks tonight?" Draco asked Greengrass, who looked towards Bulstrode.

"Fine… Azkaban will have to do…" Bulstrode agreed.

"Pansy, are you on board with this?" Greengrass asked.

"If she really did this to Trace… Then, yes," Pansy gave a shaky nod.

"Be careful, and don't get us more involved in this by mistake," Greengrass looked back to Draco, and Draco gave her a nod.

"I'll see you all back at Hogwarts, then."

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Wednesday 27th January, 1994 (Stoatshead Hill)

He couldn't reach her.

Every time he got close, she'd shoot her usual grin back at him before vanishing.

It was an endless loop, and yet, every single time he spotted her, he tried to chase her down. He just wanted to talk to her again… He just wanted to know why she would throw herself between him and that Curse. She had her entire life ahead of her, but she had thrown it all away for someone who was already on his way out.

Why would she do that?

If she had played her cards right, she could've lived a long life of no worries.

"Over here…" Tracey's voice echoed, and Ron broke out of his daze.

"Where are you?" Ron looked around; he couldn't see her anywhere on the hills.

No response came, and after waiting around for a minute, Ron restarted his search for her. Step by step, he hiked the hills without rest. Occasionally, he'd hear her best jokes being carried by the directionless winds, or he would hear her boisterous laughter in the back of his mind. In some fucked up way, Ron knew that this wasn't the real world. Somehow, he just got the feeling that this was all a dream.

"She wouldn't be here with me if I were awake," Ron told himself. "She's gone forever, and I'll never get to see her again."

"I'm still here…" came Tracey's voice, and Ron stopped walking immediately.

"Where?!" Ron called out.

"Up…" Tracey's voice echoed. "I want to show you something, Ron… Come up…" Up?

Ron looked around, and when he spotted the highest hill, he made a break for it. I'm coming! Just don't fucking run off again! As he made his way up, stumbling and panting due to his long search, Ron realized where he was. Stoatshead hill… This is where it all began, right? That fucking coward left his friends to die, and I got fucked for it. If I ever see that prick, I'll slap the bitch out of him. Ron finally reached the top of the hill, his entire body burning from the strenuous exercise.

She was there, her back facing him as she gazed into the woods on top of Stoatshead Hill.

"Finally…" Ron panted as he limped towards her. "Stop running, Trace… I just want to talk to you."

"And what would you like to talk about?" Tracey asked, her back still facing him.

"The fucking flowers…" Ron said sarcastically. "I want to talk about what happened, Tracey… I want to talk about what you did for me."

"You'd have done the same," Tracey spoke to the woods. Why isn't she turning around?

"I would have… But unlike you, I don't have a future to look forward to," Ron countered. "Why did you have to do that? Why did you throw away your life?"

"You're not the only one who has free will, Ron," Tracey said calmly. "I chose to save my friend, just as he would've done for me had the situation been different."

"It's not the same," Ron said. "Trace… There's something about me that you don't know…" Am I really going to tell her? C'mon, Ron, she's not even real… Just say it.

"You have a great destiny, Ron," Tracey cut in.

"Pardon?" Ron blinked.

"You serve Fate," Tracey said, and Ron's blood froze. "I'm just glad that I got to help you along the way."

"Help me along the way…" Ron repeated dumbly, and then his temper flared up.

What the fuck was she on about? He was supposed to help her, not the other way around.

"Don't make my life sound more important than yours!" Ron snapped. "I serve Fate?! Who told you that shite, Trace?! I don't serve anyone! Least of all some Celestial cunt who thinks herself a Goddess!"

"You don't serve Fate?" Tracey asked, she sounded a bit annoyed for some reason.

"No!" Ron replied sternly. "I use my gifts to help people, not serve her!"

Ron then drew in a deep breath, what was he yelling at her for? She wasn't even real. Was she? Ron shook his head harshly, his mind had been feeling so heavy as of late.

"I'm sorry for yelling…" Ron sighed out as he rubbed his face. "The last few days… They've been emotional…"

"You're very selfish, Ron," Tracey turned to face, and Ron's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Merlin's beard…

Her throat was completely cut open, and her protruding, dead eyes were facing different directions.

"Tracey…" Ron muttered as he took a step back, his eyes stinging immediately.

"I died for you, Ron… I died for your destiny," Tracey said, thick blood oozing past her cracked, colorless lips.

It all hit him once again… The demotion, the attack on his life, Tracey's death, and his long and lonely days within his dark room… There was just no escape from the pain in his heart.

"No…" Ron hid his face behind his hands, trying his best to hide his gaze. "No, please…"

"Don't let my death be in vain, Ron…" Tracey said, and Ron let out a weak sob before falling on his knees.

"You weren't supposed to die…" Ron coughed out, his hands still covering his face. "You were supposed to have a wonderful life after the war… I'm so sorry, Tracey… This is all my fucking fault…"

"You can still redeem yourself, Ron," Tracey put her cold hand on top of his head.

"Re… Redeem?" Ron sniffled, finally looking back at her.

"Kill them all, Ron," Tracey ordered coldly.

For a moment, Ron could only stare up at the corpse ordering him to kill people. But then, something just clicked… He already had a plan, didn't he? He had put things into motion before he had thrown himself into his grief. I've been preparing for something, haven't I? Counting the days before I could have my vengeance…

His memories came back to him, and Ron's weeping ceased immediately. This isn't me… I don't fucking cry like some little bitch! Ron turned his head and cracked his neck, whining and crying was beneath him. He was a man of action, wasn't he?

"I'll kill them," Ron rose up to his feet; he was now towering over Tracey. "For you, Trace… For what they did to you."

"It's time you left your room," Tracey whispered coldly, and then she vanished from sight.

---

Thursday 28th January, 1994 (The Burrow – Early Morning)

Ron woke up angry.

He slid out of his bed with a sneer plastered across his face, his eyes gleaming with deadly purpose. He had given the Aurors their shot by reminding Rufus Scrimgeour of Corban Yaxley and his flock. Now, it's my fucking turn. Solomon has no doubt found something by now, and he won't keep his silence to the Headmaster forever. I need to get to Emilia, and then she and Solomon can help me find the person behind the attack.

Everything was finally ready.

---

Thirty Minutes Later

Ron finished buttoning up his suit, he felt a bit more familiar with the Basilisk skin lining now. I would've gotten completely used to its extra weight some day. What a shame. Ron walked over to Theo's trunk, ignoring the sleeping owner, and he quickly pulled out three vials of Calming Draught. I'll take two now, and save one for later. Here's hoping that I don't overdose before I get my revenge.

Ron downed two vials back to back; he could feel the cool liquid moving through his body. Here it comes. Ron closed his eyes and waited, savoring the feeling of clarity pushing away his grief. When Ron finally opened his eyes again, his constricted pupils gave him the resemblance to a focused shark. There were no pointless thoughts in his head anymore.

Ron was focused on the task at hand, nothing more and nothing less.

He grabbed his finished paperwork for Crouch, something that he had only finished because even he needed the occasional break from honing his Magic. His quiet movements ensured that Blaise and Theo wouldn't be waking up any time soon, and when Ron was finally out of the room, he wasted no time in heading down towards the Kitchen.

It was still too early for anyone to be awake, so Ron settled for a fresh apple as he scribbled down a note for his mother. 'Gone to work, Ron'. Perfect.

---

Thursday 28th January, 1994 (The Ministry – Early Morning)

"I just… I didn't expect you to be here," Crouch said from his chair, while Ron just stared at him. "Especially after what happened to you."

"Nothing happened to me," Ron spoke in a monotone voice. "Tracey Davis, on the other hand, nearly lost her head."

"Yes…" Crouch said, he sounded a bit uncomfortable. "Terrible business. Don't worry, the Aurors will find out who was behind this." If they get in my way, I'll kill them too.

"I wish them a successful hunt, then," Ron 'smiled'. "What do you think of my work?"

"It could be better," Crouch started, and Ron's left eye twitched. "But given your inexperience, it'll have to suffice. I'll pass this onto Anthony, and if he needs anything more, he'll contact you by owl."

"Understood," Ron stood up. "Oh, before I forget, I need a Portkey to the French Ministry."

"Why?" Crouch looked up from his work again.

"Lady Travers asked me to come to her Manor in France," Ron started his lie. "All the other Families that you wanted me to contact have agreed to pay a portion of the Tournament's fees, but Lady Travers wants to negotiate something."

"Don't make her any promises," Crouch warned, and Ron gave a nod. "If she starts acting difficult, politely ask to leave. You've already met the quota, and we don't need any more trouble."

"I'll bring her around," Ron said as he began to leave. "Thank you for the Portkey." And thank you for giving me a 'legitimate' reason for going to France.

---

Thursday 28th January, 1994 (Travers Manor – Morning)

Ron stepped through the fireplace, and into the marble greeting room, his eyes scanning the golden tapestries that illustrated glorious battles fought by the Travers Family in the past. She makes sure that her visitors know of her Family's war-ridden history? Some of these are really impressive. Wait… That one's from the 'Great War'. Slightly intrigued, Ron walked up and studied the tapestry.

Images of various battles were stitched onto the tapestry, the final image showing the Travers Family being cast out by their own allies. They lost two-thirds of their household fighting against the Dark Lord, but were rewarded with banishment due to backroom politics.

"En garde, paysan!" came a firm, but very girly, voice from behind him.

Ron calmly turned to face whoever had 'greeted' him, only to see a little girl with short, black hair aiming a fruit knife at him. What is this?

"En garde!" the girl huffed, and Ron cocked an eyebrow.

His pale blue eyes bore into the girl's black ones, and she quickly began looking confused and scared by Ron's silence.

"En garde…" she muttered, her fruit knife still aimed at him. What should I do? She's clearly harmless, but if she makes a silly mistake, she could end up hurting herself. I should take the knife from her without hurting her.

"How old are you?" Ron asked in a dead tone.

The girl just stared at him; her chubby cheeks were starting to get redder by the moment. Guess I'll try my shitty French, then.

"Um… Quel âge as-tu?" Ron asked.

"J'ai six ans," the girl eventually replied, mistrust clear in her eyes. Six, and she's already mugging people… What's the word for fourteen again?

"Quatorze," Ron kneeled down and smiled properly. "Je m'appelle Ronald Weasley. Quel est ton nom?"

"Audrey Travers…" the girl narrowed her eyes on him, her little fingers tightening around the hit of the fruit knife. "En garde!" She wants to fight me? What has Emilia done to this little girl?

He wasn't really in the mood to babysit some knife-wielding little girl, so without a word, Ron summoned her fruit knife into his own hand. There… I win. Learn some Wandless Magic, and then you can try again. The girl's face morphed into an exaggerated look of disbelief, and then she 'roared' before running at him. What the fuck? She kicked his shins and threw soft-knuckled punches at his stomach, huffing and yelling like any fearsome warrior would. I can't feel a damn thing because of the suit, but she hasn't noticed that yet. Let's see how long she can go on for.

After nearly a minute of being assaulted by the child, Ron flicked her on the forehead. There, I threw one back. The girl jumped back and rubbed her forehead, a truly cross look on her face. Her eyes darted towards the fruit knife in Ron's right hand, and she quickly dove for it. Ron moved it behind his back, and she ran face first into his stomach. Ha.

"Non!" she suddenly squealed, her eyes were starting to well up. Oh, I'm supposed to lose, am I? "C'est mon épée!"

"Do you want this back?" Ron held the knife just out of her reach, a smirk flashing across his face as he watched her struggle to reach it. "This is not a toy, young Lady, and girls your age shouldn't-"

"Hya!" she suddenly punched him in the groin, but Ron barely even flinched. Now that was just uncalled for.

Audrey just stared at him in confusion, no doubt curious as to why nothing was hurting him. She went right for my balls. Smart girl.

"Here," Ron offered her the fruit knife, and she greedily snatched it from his hand.

She smirked keenly, her little black eyes looking for a chink in his 'impenetrable' armor. Sadly, their battle was interrupted prematurely…

"Audrey!" came a familiar voice, and the girl squealed as she ran behind Ron.

"Oi, what are you doing?" Ron asked, feeling slightly annoyed with the girl for tugging at his clothes.

"Ronald?" Emilia stopped at the entrance, her furrowed brow fixed on him.

"The child is hiding behind me," Ron said dully, he could hear Audrey giggling from behind him.

"Audrey, viens ici." Emilia ordered, and Audrey hopped into view.

"Bonjour," Audrey said innocently, hiding the fruit knife behind her tiny back.

Emilia began scolding Audrey about something, but Ron couldn't keep up due to his lack of talent in French. I think Audrey missed her breakfast. Or rather, ran away from it. Emilia suddenly put her hand forward, and Audrey reluctantly handed the fruit knife over.

"Allez manger votre petit déjeuner," Emilia pointed towards the exit, and Audrey began to skulk off.

But just before she disappeared from sight, she shot back a deadly look in Ron's direction. Huh? The tiny girl narrowed her eyes, and then she traced her index finger across her own throat. Is she threatening to kill me? Is it my face? Is it the reason why people become so hostile around me? The life of an ugly duckling…

"Sorry about her," Emilia sighed out. "She didn't hurt you, did she?"

"Why is your child so violent?" Ron drawled.

"She's not my child," Emilia corrected. "She's my first cousin."

"Why is your first cousin so violent?" Ron asked immediately.

"I've told her a couple of stories about my adventures," Emilia replied. "A decision that I deeply regret." So that fruit knife was the girl's Oni-Blade?

"You've had adventures?" Ron asked. "What sort?"

"The haunting sort," Emilia muttered under her breath. "Moving on… Why are you here? Shouldn't you be with your Family right now?"

"I gave you a job, didn't I?" Ron reminded her. "I'm here to collect what I'm due."

"I see," Emilia gave a nod, and then she gestured him to follow her. "The Headmaster did just as you predicted, he went to Solomon for information." He simply did what the Aurors wouldn't.

"And did Solomon find anything?" Ron asked.

"He found your man," Emilia replied. Good. "I managed to talk him out of telling Dumbledore, something that cost me another five hundred Galleons."

"I will reimburse you," Ron assured her. "Does the Headmaster know, or not?"

"He thinks that Solomon is still searching," Emilia replied.

"Then we need to get to Solomon-"

"He has already told me everything," Emilia cut in. "He doesn't want to be seen with you if it can be helped."

"Fair enough," Ron said. I won't be around for long, anyway. "Tell me about the man who tried to take my head."

"His name is Ajax Chloros," Emilia started. "He often frequents Solomon's bakeries in Greece, hiring himself out as an assassin. From what Solomon could find out, this man knows his craft well."

"I don't give a shit about his craft, or how well he knows it," Ron said. "Where does he live?"

"Athens," Emilia replied. Shit, I still need to come home on time.

"We'll need a Portkey-" Ron started.

"Already prepared," Emilia led him into her study. "That ring on my table will see us there and back."

"Do you want to avenge Tracey as well?" Ron asked, why had Emilia taken so much initiative in this? "If so, why? You didn't know her."

"I don't need to know a child to want to avenge their murder," Emilia said bluntly. "When a Ronin sees injustice, he draws his blade." Right…

"I'm sure he does," Ron said. "I'm ready to leave if you are."

"Stay behind me, and keep your eyes open," Emilia instructed.

"Oh, Our eyes never close."

---

Thursday 28th January, 1994 (Muggle Athens – Midday)

"For fuck's sake," Ron finally broke his silence. "How long are we going to wait out here? Let's just go into that shitty looking building."

"We'll go in after he leaves," Emilia said. "We need to be the ones who spring the trap, not him."

"We can easily take him," Ron said in a bored tone. "I could level that building alone."

"And how many bystanders in this block would die because of your impatience?" Emilia demanded sternly. "You taint our mission with your own selfish desires." What the fuck?

"No normal person talks like you," Ron said, and then he shook his head. "Fine, we'll keep waiting… Just speak some fucking English, please."

---

Thursday 28th January, 1994 (Muggle Athens – Afternoon)

"That's him," Ron recognized the man's scar. "He's leaving his apartment."

"Keep waiting," Emilia said. "Once he's gone, we'll break in and wait for him."

Ron nodded his agreement, but then, something caught his eye. Emilia was wearing her ceremonial armor, and she was carrying her Oni-Blade. Aren't we in Muggle Athens?

"What the fuck are you wearing?" Ron asked as he pulled her behind a close corner. "We're in Muggle Athens, you clown. Muggle being the operative word."

"No one could see us back there," Emilia clicked her tongue.

"Horseshit," Ron frowned. "Let's just wait here, please." What a clueless thing to miss… Is she a bit daft, or something? Imagine if a Muggle saw her… She'd end up on their newspapers.

"I get that you're angry about your friend, but you need to calm down," Emilia said as she pulled her arm free. "I need a man watching my back, not a fucking boy."

"I'm as calm as they come right now," Ron said. "I'm trying to save the Statute of Secrecy over here, aren't I?" Ron then shot a look at the assassin's apartment. "He's gone, and I don't see him anywhere."

"Let's move, then," Emilia said. "Just keep your nerves, understand?"

"I understand," Ron said, he couldn't be fucked arguing right now.

They made their way up the many stairs, eventually reaching Ajax Chloros' apartment.

"Hand me your wand," Emilia ordered.

"Why?" Ron asked.

"So I can check for Wards," Emilia replied. "Using my Blade would take too long."

"Right," Ron handed his wand over. If she betrays me, so what? What do I have to lose?

Emilia began her task quickly, and Ron moved down to act as a watchman. Now that he was here, his mind was racing with a million thoughts. Even the Calming Draught wasn't enough to calm his excitement. Oh, how he had dreamed of this moment. Ron had a checklist of things that he wanted to try on this man. So many Curses that he had read about, but never dared to try. I'll yank this cunt's entrails out of his arsehole.

After nearly five minutes of waiting, Ron was relieved of his duty by Emilia.

"Get in," came her voice, and Ron thanked the Gods as he ran into the apartment.

"Merlin… What were you doing back here?" Ron asked, while Emilia carefully closed the door.

"It's been a while since I used a wand," Emilia said, and then she tossed him his wand.

Ron caught it, and aimed it down the hallway. Empty… There's nothing in here.

"Stay on my left," Emilia said as she began moving into the apartment. "If we get attacked, go on the defensive. Don't make me worry about you in a fight."

"Sure thing," Ron said distantly. I'll stay on the defensive, but only because I can't die just yet. I'm so close to the fuckers behind this.

"He must be moving houses," Emilia said.

"Or, he's a missing Weasley…" Ron muttered as he stopped inside the kitchen.

Emilia cocked an eyebrow at him, her demeanor relaxing a little.

"A poor cunt," Ron explained his joke.

Emilia didn't look amused, which wasn't really surprising given her personality.

"You should go and set up the wards again," Ron tossed his wand back to her. "I'll check the house."

"We'll ambush him in here," Emilia gave a nod. "Be careful."

"You too," Ron said as he began walking towards the back door. Where do you lead?

He made his way through the door, which led him into a thin corridor with three rooms at the end. Please be empty. Ron made his way down the corridor calmly and quietly, making sure to mind his footing. Once he was in front of the three doors, Ron opted to try the middle one first. Of course it's a toilet… The Universe is taking the piss, isn't it?

Ron tried the left door next, opening it as slowly as he could. The lights were off and the curtains were closed, so Ron had to focus his eyes as he scanned the dark room. It seemed to be a child's room, filled with toys and puzzles.

"Oh, fuck…" Ron muttered under his breath, his eyes landing on a sleeping child.

The little blonde boy was sucking his thumb, a coloring book serving as his pillow. Ron closed the door, turned around, and then headed straight for Emilia.

"Fuck," Ron hissed to himself. "Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck!"

Just as he entered the kitchen and closed the door behind him, Emilia tiptoed in through the other exit.

"It's done," Emilia reported. "You surprise him, and I'll come from around that counter and disarm him."

"There's a fucking kid back there," Ron said, and Emilia just stared at him. "Didn't you hear me?"

"Gods…" Emilia looked annoyed beyond belief.

"This changes everything," Ron said.

"Does it?" Emilia asked.

"I'm not going to orphan a child," Ron frowned. "We have to go about this in a different way."

"Ajax Chloros was just the wand," Emilia suggested. "We get him to lead us to whoever hired him, and he promises to never show his face around us again."

"Fine… But I'm taking his fucking hand," Ron promised.

---

Twenty Minutes Later

Ajax Chloros stepped into his kitchen with a bag of groceries, only to come face-to-face with a 'smiling' Ron.

"Good afternoon, old boy," Ron toasted Ajax with his teacup. "Greeting from England."

"You…" Ajax blinked, and then he quickly reached for his wand.

Emilia dashed around the corner and put Ajax into an arm lock, and before the man could even grunt, Emilia swiped his legs out from under him. Ajax fell face first onto the ground, his wand getting kicked under a chair.

"Stop squirming, you fuck," Ron walked over and kicked the man in the nose. "I'll dash your fucking brains all over this floor."

The message got through to him, and Ajax tried to relax a little. I fucked his nose up, that's for sure. Ajax just stared at Ron, and then he spat some blood out onto the floor.

"I'm sorry about your friend…" Ajax grunted, Emilia was resting her knee on his spine. "I didn't mean to hurt her…"

"Shut your fucking mouth," Ron grabbed the man by his hair. "If you even speak a word that I don't want to hear, I'll bring your boy out here."

Ajax yelled a little in frustration, trying to shake Emilia off to no avail.

"If you want to live, then you need to answer his questions," Emilia advised. "Try to pull any funny business, and I'll snap this arm in four different places."

"I want the bastard who hired you," Ron started. "Your life means shit to me, understand? You tell me what I want, and I'll leave you to live out your days far from me."

"I can't…" Ajax grit out. "It would mean my own life! And the life of my boy!"

"What does that mean?" Ron asked, but Ajax looked away. "Huh? What does that mean?"

Ajax clenched his mouth shut, his gaze fixed on the ground.

"Answer me, you fuck," Ron slapped the man across his face. "Wake up!"

"I am owed money!" Ajax hissed angrily. "If I betray the client now, then who will pay me?! You?!"

"You want your life? Or do you want your money?" Ron asked. "Pick one, and I'll fucking pass judgment right here."

Ajax let out another yell, jerking hard in his place. Emotional little fuck, isn't he?

"I was so close…" Ajax grit out, spit running down his mouth. "So close, Julian…"

"Julian? Is that the boy's name?" Ron asked, and Ajax froze in his spot. "You tell me what I want, or I go and paint your son's room red. Huh? How's that for an offer?" Please tell me what I want. If he calls my bluff, I'll lose any chance of making him talk.

"I'll talk…" Ajax's head dropped, his forehead resting on the floor. Thank you, Merlin.

"Who hired you?" Ron asked. "And what was their purpose? What did they get from murdering a child in public?"

"A child?" Ajax scoffed. "You are no child… She was right to fear you, I can see that now." She?

"Flattery will not save you," Ron rested his left palm on Ajax's face. "Keep talking, or I'll take your face."

"It was Violet Parkinson…" Ajax gave up for Julian's sake. "She wanted you to be beheaded… She wished to honor her ancestors with your blood." Mad cunt. I was right to put the Head Auror onto her trail. He must have blocked her vaults using a warrant that not even the Goblins could refuse. That's why she wasn't able to pay her assassin.

"Didn't she fight to push the French out of England?" Emilia asked.

"She hates my guts," Ron said dully. "I just never expected her to do something so bizarre." I underestimated her hatred, and it cost me my Cycle.

"She's a mad dog…" Tracey's voice echoed around him. "Kill her."

Ron turned his head and cracked his neck, his eyes blazing red for a moment.

"Fuck me…" Ajax muttered, his wide eyes fixed on Ron. "What are you?!"

"Something that you should not have fucked with," Ron said coldly, and fear flashed across Ajax's face. "Where is she?"

"I left her in her secret villa near Mt. Vesuvius…" Ajax replied.

"Where is Mt. Vesuvius?" Ron asked. It sounds very foreign.

"It's in Italy," Emilia replied. "We'll need another Portkey."

"What did you mean by 'I left her'?" Ron asked.

"She was working with Lucius Malfoy," Ajax started. That fucking cunt! Always scheming against my Family!

"Lucius Malfoy is not a fool," Emilia dug her knee into Ajax's back. "He could be lying to us."

"He betrayed her," Ajax coughed out. "He sent men to find me and kill me before I could attack you-"

"Why?" Ron blinked.

"I don't know," Ajax replied. "Pure-Bloods love their games… I stopped asking questions a long time ago." A long time ago? Been doing this for long, then, haven't you?

"How many people have you killed?" Ron hissed. "You fucking cunt…"

"Not all of us are born as prodigies," Ajax spat out. "Some of us have to mire ourselves in the shit and piss just to make a living."

"I'm not here to debate with you," Ron leaned in. "Tell me more about what I want, or I'll remove your tongue out of your head."

"After I botched the attempt on you… I took my Portkey back to her main villa within Italy," Ajax started. "But by the time I got there, Lucius Malfoy's men were trying to capture her. Her House-Elves were dying in an attempt to defend her, but with my added might, we managed to scatter the attackers. She ordered me to take her and her Elves to her hidden villa, she even offered to pay me twice as much despite my failure…"

"Why were you, an assassin, carrying a Portkey which would lead directly to your client's house?" Emilia asked. "Are you an idiot?"

"It was her idea…" Ajax grit out as Emilia twisted his arm. "She… She wanted me…" What?

"Make fucking sense," Ron snarled.

"She wanted me with your blood hot upon me," Ajax said tiredly. "It was a part of the original bargain…" What in the actual fuck?

"You sick fucks," Emilia grimaced.

"It was to be my final job-" Ajax started.

"We don't care," Emilia pushed her knee down, cutting off his oxygen for a moment. "Have you been inside this 'secret villa' of hers?"

"I have," Ajax replied quickly. "I can guide you through it."

"You will draw us a map, and if it isn't accurate, we'll be back here very soon," Ron warned. I'm not letting you out of my sights.

---

Thirty Minutes Later

"Kill him, Ron," Tracey whispered, she was standing right behind him. "He took my life from me, so it's only fair that you take his life from him."

"He has a child," Ron whispered, his eyes fixed on Emilia and Ajax. "They don't look like they have any outside Family-"

"He murdered me…" Tracey gurgled, sending a cold shiver up Ron's spine. "Kill him…"

Ron drew in a deep breath, his mind focusing on Stoatshead Hill.

"No," Ron refused. "Chloros is scum, but his son isn't… Without his father, the little boy won't survive."

"Then take his hand," Tracey limply pointed towards Ajax's right hand. "You said that you would…"

"I did, didn't I?" Ron whispered, his eyes moving towards some sharp kitchen knives. I can't just let him walk away… He's a professional killer for hire.

Ron quietly moved over to the knives, picking up the largest one he could find. Incendio. Ron's left hand began to glow orange, and he used it to begin heating the blade.

"A clean swing," Tracey whispered in his ear. "He can have it mended later, but for now, he has to suffer for what he did to me."

"He does…" Ron whispered to himself.

For the next five minutes, Ron continued heating the knife while Ajax drew the map for Emilia. His back was turned to them, but that hardly mattered because Emilia was keeping Ajax focused on his task. Neither of them were looking at him, they had no way of knowing what was going through his head.

"Is that it?" came Emilia's voice, and Ron's ears perked up. "Two floors?"

"It's a small villa," Ajax replied.

"Could she have reinforced it?" Emilia asked.

"Her pouch wouldn't work… She's absent any coin," Ajax replied. "She should only have a handful of Elves tending to her. Four, or five, at most."

"Rufus Scrimgeour finally comes through for me," Ron said, his back still facing them. "Are you done with the map?"

"I am," Ajax said. "You will let me live now? Yes?"

"Emilia, take the map," Ron said, and he heard her pocket it. Cutis Terra!

"I've done as you asked," Ajax said, and then he looked to Emilia. "You have your map, and-"

Before he could go on, Ron turned around and marched up to Ajax's side. The man's right hand was resting on the table, and Ron brought the hot cleaver down with all of his enhanced strength. He felt the blade shatter through bones, sticking firmly into the table. Ajax seemed stunned for a moment, his mouth closing as he looked to his severed hand. But then, he began screaming. Even Emilia jerked away from the table, an alarmed expression crossing her face as blood squirted upwards out of Ajax's new stump.

"Now, we're even," Ron stepped over Ajax's screaming face, his heel slicing open the man's cheek. "Emilia, let's go. We're done here."

---

Thursday 28th January, 1994 (The Burrow – Afternoon)

Tomorrow night, Violet Parkinson would meet her end. Emilia was going to pick him up and take him to Mt. Vesuvius after midnight. All Ron needed to do was to be at her Manor, a place that Kreacher could easily help him get to from Hogwarts.

He was so close; he could almost picture getting his hands on the hateful tart.

Solomon had provided the Order with plenty of wands, and they were all barracking on Emilia's grounds. Ron would use this force to squash any resistance in his way, and then, he would have his revenge. Emilia would see to all the details, while Ron could think of all the ways he could torment 'Lady' Parkinson.

There was just one problem… He needed to say his goodbyes to some people before he could have his revenge.

His mum and dad came to mind, as did Pandora and Xenophilius. He owed them each a goodbye, didn't he? He was certainly never going to see them again after he left for Hogwarts. Wait… Would they even exist anymore? They'd be wiped away from history, right?

Ron stepped through the fireplace, his mind heavy with dark thoughts. It has to be the Astronomy Tower… I don't want to die painfully. I don't care if Filch has to spend a month scraping bits of me out of the Courtyard; the Astronomy Tower is my ticket out.

"Ron! You're back!" Charlie greeted him, looking rather relieved.

"Hello," Ron said. "Were you waiting for me, Charlie?"

"Yeah… Mum was beside herself with worry when she found your note," Charlie replied. "Woke up the whole bloody house… Dad calmed her down, and then he went to look for you at the Ministry. Crouch told him that you had gone to France on Ministry business, and then he wouldn't say another word."

"Sorry for the fuss," Ron said distractedly. "So… Who's home?"

"You, me, mum, and Theo," Charlie replied.

"Theo?" Ron cocked an eyebrow. "He didn't go see Tracey?"

"He said that he needed a break," Charlie shrugged. "You hungry?" You hungry?

"You're being awfully polite," Ron pointed out. "Usually, when I cause a fuss, people crawl into my arse for days on end. They don't ask me if I'm hungry."

"I'm not upset with you, Ron," Charlie blinked.

"I never said that you were," Ron said. "Are you upset?"

"Stop that shit," Charlie warned, and Ron raised his hands in surrender. "We were supposed to go running today, that's all… But it's all right… I'm just glad that you finally left your room."

"Oh… I'm sorry for forgetting," Ron apologized. I only agreed at the time because I was missing the 'good old days'.

"We can still go tomorrow," Charlie smiled.

"Sure," Ron agreed. One last morning run. "I won't forget this time."

"You better not," Charlie chuckled, guiding Ron towards the Kitchen. "Come, mum's been waiting for you."

"Is she upset too?" Ron asked aloofly.

"Nah, she was just worried," Charlie said. "She's also really glad that you're out of that room of yours."

They both entered the Kitchen together, and Ron spotted Theo eating his lunch while Molly poured more stew into his empty bowl.

"Ron's back," Charlie said as they moved further into the room.

"Oh, Ron!" Molly looked ready to pass out, but then she suddenly tried to reach in for a hug.

"Hot pan, mum," Ron said he hopped back. "Careful, please."

Molly quickly discarded the saucepan onto the table, and then she cleaned her hands with her aprons before pulling Ron into a hug.

"You're okay…" Molly said, as if telling herself that she wasn't dreaming.

"It was a bit of an emergency, mum," Ron said. "Sorry for leaving so early in the morning. I just couldn't afford to miss out on meeting Mr. Crouch today."

"It's okay, dear," Molly patted his cheek. It is? Where's my second arsehole? Where's the savage tongue lashing? "Why don't you sit down next to Theo? You can help him in the Garden after. You could certainly use some sun." Has my Family been swapped by doppelgangers?

---

One Hour Later

"Theo, could you pass the tiny shovel?" Ron wiped his brow; he didn't mind pulling up his sleeves for a change. Only three people are here, and they've all seen my scars. What's the point of hiding them?

No tiny shovel came, and Ron shot a look back at Theo. The weedy boy was staring at him, his brow furrowed.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

"You took three Calming Draughts from my trunk," Theo said. Shit. "Urgent Ministry business? I don't think so."

"Theo, I just went to work, but I needed something for my nerves," Ron started.

"Don't lie to me," Theo said quickly, a hint of frustration in his voice. "You're going after the person who hurt Tracey, aren't you?"

"No," Ron lied. "Theo, what's this-"

"I can help you," Theo said, and Ron, despite being on the Calming Draught, was a little taken aback. "I'm good at figuring out other people's intentions, you know that, Ron… Let me help you, please."

"You want to avenge Tracey?" Ron asked. "Really?"

"Yes," Theo said resolutely. "Whoever did this to Tracey has to pay…" And she will, but not with your help.

Ron straightened his back, and after fixing up his shirt, he walked over to Theo.

"I cut off a man's hand today," Ron 'smiled', and Theo paled immediately. "And there it is…"

"What… What are you on about?" Theo muttered, his wide eyes fixed on Ron's.

"You're scared shitless," Ron explained. "I didn't cut off anyone's hand, Theo… What's the matter with you? I went to France on Ministry business…"

"But why did you take three Calming Draughts?" Theo asked. "Why not just one?"

"In case I needed them," Ron said. "Here, I still have one in my pocket."

Ron reached into his pants, and he pulled out the last vial.

"You used two, then?" Theo took the vial. Fuck.

"Yes," Ron replied. "Now… Stop thinking about putting yourself in danger, all right? The last thing we need is you getting hurt as well." And I certainly don't need you getting in my way.

"I… You're right…" Theo looked down shamefully. "I… I just really miss her…"

"I know," Ron said with forced gentleness. "Come here, mate… Everything's going to be just fine." You won't be in pain for much longer.

---

Thursday 28th January, 1994 (The Burrow – Dinnertime)

He had thought about it, and he had decided that he wasn't going to say any goodbyes.

This wasn't the fabled moment where the hero thanked everyone who helped him along the way… This was just someone throwing in the towel after a life so horrible that he was genuinely looking forward to being free of it. It was pathetic, but it was also all Ron ever wanted now. No more Entity. No more Fate. No more war. The next Ron can worry about that shite… I'm done.

"More potatoes, Ron?" Molly smiled at him; she was so happy that he was eating dinner with them tonight.

"Thanks, mum," Ron smiled a little in return, but that was all she needed.

Ron took the mashed potatoes, planting three more scoops onto his plate.

"Woah, Ron… You're eating a lot tonight," Charlie nudged him. It's my final dinner… I have to make it worth remembering.

"He's starting to get his appetite back," Arthur smiled at his Family.

"You two should keep up," Molly said to Theo and Blaise, both of whom looked filled to exploding.

Ron found himself simply enjoying the taste of Shepard's Pie, his mother just had to cook his favorite tonight. No Elf can rival mum's cooking. I'm glad that I came home one last time.

"Sorry I'm late," Bill burst into the Kitchen. "The Goblins wouldn't let me go-"

He stopped abruptly, his eyes fixed on Ron.

"Ronnie's eating with us tonight," Molly said, as if it was some small victory.

"Hello, Bill," Ron greeted, and Bill walked over with a smile.

"Good to see you again, Ron," Bill patted Ron's shoulder before he sat down to his father's left.

"Likewise," Ron said, going back to his dinner.

From then on, Ron simply listened to everyone else's conversations, storing the memory of his Family's idle chatter deep in his mind. I will definitely miss this. It wasn't long he joined the conversation, talking to Bill about his day within a nearby tomb. This was as good a goodbye as anyway, wasn't it?

---

Friday 29th January, 1994 (The Burrow – Early Morning)

"Ron?!" Charlie called from on top the hill. "What are you still doing down there? Come up here."

"Sorry," Ron looked back to his brother. I swear I saw Tracey again.

Ron made his way up the hill, using Charlie's help in finding surer footing.

"Where's your head, little brother?" Charlie ruffled his hair. "You keep looking off into space." Oh, it's just the usual, only this time, my dead friend is haunting me.

"I miss my room," Ron lied.

"You can't stay up there forever," Charlie said gently. "And… And you can't keep avoiding Tracey." I'm not avoiding her. She's fucking haunting me. "Ron, I know that it's not my place, but you need to say goodbye to her. Her parents won't keep her on the potions forever. You'll live to regret it if you don't do this now." He's right…

"I will see Tracey soon," Ron promised. Actually, I'll be going to hell… Fuck.

"Good man," Charlie smiled proudly. "Now, let's get up those hills, eh? Show me what you've got."

They raced up the hills one last time, and Ron was just at Charlie's heels as the race finished.

It was just like old times.

---

Corban Yaxley's POV

Friday 29th January, 1994 (Nott Manor – Afternoon)

"Felix has managed to find her, my Lord," Corban bowed deeply.

"And where is she?" the Dark Lord hissed from his chair, a dark sneer on his serpentine face.

"Within the Parkinson ledgers, there was a purchase for a villa in the shadow of Mt. Vesuvius," Corban started. "Felix noticed that nothing was ever done with the villa other than it being purchased, and when we questioned Egbert about it, the man had no knowledge of buying any such villa. It has to be her, my Lord." How she bought a villa without him noticing is beyond me… Damn fool.

"And why has it taken you so long so find her?" the Dark Lord asked. "Are you all once again scheming behind my back?" What? This again?

"Never, my Lord," Corban said resolutely. "You may peer into my mind if you do not believe me."

"Then tell me what delayed you," the Dark Lord hissed.

"The Aurors… They have taken a special interest in Felix and me," Corban explained. "They block our vaults with the Minister's authority, and they regularly drop by to interview us. For a while, Lucius had to step in to fill my role-"

"Lucius stepped in to aid you?" the Dark Lord asked.

"It was… odd, but he has been trying to prove himself to you, my Lord," Corban said. I can't let there be too much Pure blood spilled… After all, there are so few of us left. Lucius might be a slippery, little backstabber, but he's also a Pure-Blood, and his bloodline must go on for England's sake.

"And he proved useful?" the Dark Lord asked.

"He did, my Lord," Corban lied, bracing himself for Legilimency.

But it never came… Instead, the Dark Lord glided out of his chair, landing just in front of Corban. His Lord's close presence made him tense with fear, something that he felt genuinely ashamed of.

"You have earned my favor over the last few weeks, Corban," the Dark Lord said dangerously. "Do not lose it so quickly… For your Family's sake, if not your own."

"I will not fail you again, my Lord," Corban vowed.

"I will remember your words," the Dark Lord whispered. "Bring the others here tomorrow… Tell them to come dressed for a hunt."

"I will see to it, my Lord," Corban bowed his head.

"Do not forget Felix," the Dark Lord said, his eyes maliciously fixed on Corban. Felix? "I wish to see what the boy is capable of in battle."

"I understand, my Lord" Corban maintained his composure. Felix is no fighter… The Dark Lord must already know that after having met the boy.

"You may leave," the Dark Lord glided back to his chair; his gaze sent a cold shiver up Corban's spine. He is still angry… I cannot give him any reason to harm my Family.

Corban headed for the exit, giving his Lord one final bow before he left the Nott study behind. The moment the door was sealed behind him, Corban let out a shaky breath. His ribs were still hurting, despite Robert tending to him and Egbert during their search for Violet.

As he hurried back to the fireplaces, he almost ran into Cornelius as they both rounded the corner in a hurry.

"Corban," Cornelius greeted as they both stopped in time.

"Cornelius…" Corban looked the man over; there were fresh bruises and cuts all over his face. "You have not been healed yet?"

"The Dark Lord's displeasure is endless…" Cornelius rubbed his neck. "I fear that I will not live to see the end of it… I made the mistake of asking after Theodore during this crisis-"

"You are the boy's father, are you not?" Corban asked, he knew that he'd ask after Lysandra despite their cold relationship. It's his duty to protect his child. As a Lord, and as a man. "Where were you off to in such a hurry?"

"I seek to stay out of sight… Within my own Manor," Cornelius replied, his wounded pride was far too easy to see.

Corban couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the once proud Lord, the Dark Lord had stripped them all of their self-importance in his anger, and had once again reminded them why he was feared above all others.

"Whatever you're up to, Corban… Just be careful…" Cornelius looked ahead, and then he began to leave.

"Cornelius… Wait," Corban stopped the man. "The Dark Lord has ordered me to prepare his Death-Eaters, and I'd like your help."

Cornelius just stared at him; no doubt trying to figure out what scheme Corban was trying to hatch.

"You would rescue me from the Dark Lord's ire?" Cornelius finally asked. "And what will this kindness cost me, I wonder?"

"Enough of our blood has been spilled, Cornelius," Corban said firmly. "I expect nothing from you, but I also know that the Dark Lord will begin punishing Theodore for your mistakes before long… I do not wish to see our youngest suffer our Master's wrath. Come, Robert will heal you as he healed me, and we can start redeeming ourselves in our Lord's eyes."

Cornelius looked more than suspicious, but he gave a curt nod in the end. Good, pride has not overtaken his common sense.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Friday 29th January, 1994 (The Burrow – Evening)

He had missed sitting at Pandora's feet, her free hand scratching his scalp as she spoke to him in a motherly voice. Just like mum talks to Ginny… It's very soothing. I can tell just how much she loves me from her voice alone.

"You can come and do your assignment at the Rookery, Ron," Pandora said gently. "The stars are just as visible from the Rookery as they are from the Astronomy Tower." Yes, but the fall wouldn't kill me, I think.

"I just need a little break from all of this, Pandora," Ron rested his head against her leg, his eyes closing. I could sleep here forever.

"And you'll come home tomorrow morning?" Pandora asked.

"Yes," Ron lied, his eyes opening again. Don't fall asleep, Ron. You have work to do.

"If it's just one night…" Pandora said to herself, he was starting to convince her.

"Please, Pandora?" Ron turned his head up to look at her. "I really need this."

"I…" Pandora stopped, conflict dancing across her face. "Just one night, Ron…"

"Thank you," Ron smiled genuinely.

"I will talk to your father for you," Pandora promised. "But only if you promise me that you'll go see your friend tomorrow." We'll meet again soon enough.

"I promise," Ron looked back ahead.

Pandora smiled at the top of his head, she was so glad that he would get to say goodbye to his friend. She honestly couldn't even imagine what he was going through right now, and it had taken all of her friends to convince her to put her own needs above Ron's right now. The baby would be here very soon, something that she was aware of because of how uncomfortable her pregnancy had recently become. Her child was always kicking her, or putting immense pressure on her lower back. She missed how calm her last pregnancy was, her newborn was bound to be a ruffian of some sort.

"Have you seen Daphne?" Ron suddenly asked. "At St. Mungo's, that is."

"I have," Pandora replied. "She sits beside Tracey every single day."

"How is she?" Ron asked.

"In a great amount of pain," Pandora replied, and she felt him tense up immediately.

It was sweet enough to put a small smile on her face.

"You should go and see her, Ron," Pandora said softly. "She's being strong for everyone, but even she has her limits. She needs you to be there for her." What she needs is for me to stay far away from her. Being around me leads people to their deaths.

"I'll see her tomorrow," Ron said, his eyes welling with tears. I'm sorry, Daph…

---

Friday 29th January, 1994 (The Burrow – Before Dinner)

Ron placed his trunk by the fireplace, and then he turned to face his parents. They both looked beyond worried for him, but Pandora had managed to convince them that Ron needed a break from his room.

"I don't see why you're taking your trunk with you, Ronnie," his mother fretted over him. "You are coming back tomorrow, aren't you?" No, I'm not. As for the trunk, I need my augmented disguise for tonight's mission.

"I'll be back in time for breakfast," Ron lied with a soft smile. "Stop worrying so much, mum… You'll get wrinkles."

"No, I won't," Molly clicked her tongue, and then she hugged him tightly.

Ron ignored his bones being shattered; he couldn't resist the need to hug his mother one last time.

"I love you, mum," Ron blurted out, and Molly squeezed him more tightly.

"I love you too," she released a half-stifled sob. "I'll make you extra bacon tomorrow, all right? Just come home."

"I will…" Ron felt a great wave of shame and self-hatred. I'm sorry that you didn't get a better son… Maybe if Bill had my power, he'd have succeeded already.

"He can't leave if you don't let him go, Molly," Arthur whispered, and Molly let go of Ron very reluctantly.

He hid his gaze from her, opting instead to keep his eyes on his father.

"Take care, dad," Ron managed, his throat tightening painfully. "I'll see you tomorrow…"

"I don't get a 'I love you' from you?" Arthur tried to lighten the situation, much to Ron's relief.

"I love you, dad," Ron said, and Arthur smiled more genuinely. I don't deserve you two…

"I love you too, son," Arthur gave Ron's shoulder a squeeze.

"Is he heading out?" Charlie popped his head around the corner, and then both he and Bill walked in with their eyes fixed on Ron.

"I probably won't get to see you tomorrow," Charlie started, while Molly and Arthur moved away a little. Yes… You're right… "I'm heading back to Romania really early in the morning… I have a shift to get to, after all."

"Your boss is giving you trouble again?" Ron asked, hoping that no one noticed his resigned behavior.

"He's a twat-" Charlie started.

"Charlie," Molly huffed. "Stop that, and give your brother a hug."

"Fair enough," Charlie chuckled, pulling Ron into a one armed hug. "Take care, little brother. I'll come back to see you soon, I promise." Thank you for everything, Charlie. Sincerely.

"Goodbye… Charlie…" Ron muttered, his eyes filling up with tears again. Not now!

"Ron… Are you all right?" Bill asked gently.

"I'm just… Um… I didn't think Charlie was leaving so soon…" Ron pinched his eyes, clearing away the tears.

Their mother made some strange cooing noise, while Arthur just smiled at his boys.

"Tears of joy, then?" Bill smirked, earning a wet chuckle out of Ron. "Come over here, Ronnie."

Ron rested his head on his eldest brother's shoulder, shamefully remembering all the hugs Bill had given him whenever he was upset. Too many to count… Bill was the one who fully explained to me why I always got the secondhand clothes, and then he hugged me just like this.

"Have you said goodbye to Blaise and Theo?" Bill asked. Not really… We just gave each other parting nods.

"I did," Ron lied as he pulled back. "Um… I reckon I should be on my way…" If I keep staying here, they'll convince me to keep going… And I just don't want that. Not anymore. I'm fucking done with all of this fighting.

Ron stepped back and picked up his trunk, his focus turning towards the fireplace. Just prepare the floo and go. Don't stay here for another second.

"We'll be here when you get back," Molly said, and Ron began tearing up again. Bye, mum…

"Make sure you eat dinner tonight," Arthur added.

"Severus Snape's office, Hogwarts…" Ron said as he tossed some floo-powder into the fire.

The fire roared to life, and Ron walked through it without looking back at any of them. He had never felt more ashamed of himself in his entire life.

"Ron?" came Snape's voice, and Ron jerked to a stop. Of course he's here.

"Um… Hello…" Ron said without looking up.

"You are returning to Hogwarts?" Snape asked. "And alone?"

"Theo and Blaise are still not ready to come back," Ron cleared his throat and sniffled. "I… I um… I needed a break from my room." Fucked it. I wish Theo hadn't taken that vial of Calming Draught from me.

"You needed a break from your room?" Snape whispered in his low voice.

"Please… I've had a long day," Ron sighed out. "I just want to sleep in my school bed for one night. I'll be going back home tomorrow."

Snape just stared at him, his black eye searching Ron for the truth.

"Then why do you have your entire trunk-" Snape started.

"Just leave me alone!" Ron snapped. "Why are you fucking interrogating me?! I'll fucking smack the bloody piss out of you if you don't sod off!" Fucking prick!

"Interrogation was not my intent," Snape said calmly. "I am simply surprised to see you back so soon." I need to relax.

Ron drew in a deep breath, his eyes fixed on Snape's. I need to leave before he figures out what I'm up to.

"I'm only here to sleep…" Ron turned to leave. "I'll probably see you in the morning before I leave."

"You have no questions for me?" Snape asked, and Ron stopped at the door.

"Questions?" Ron asked, turning to face the Potions Master.

"Albus and I have been looking into the identity of the attacker," Snape clarified. "Don't you want to know who's behind this?" Don't tell me that they figured it out.

"Who's behind this?" Ron asked. Please be wrong.

"All fingers are pointing towards Violet Parkinson," Snape replied. Fuck me dead… "She has mysteriously vanished from sight, and not even the Aurors can find her."

"Have you found her?" Ron asked, and Snape leaned back in his chair.

"Not yet," Snape replied. Thank Merlin… I'll get to her first, then. "But Albus is looking into it right now. Hopefully, he'll be back with useful information."

"Where has he gone to look?" Ron asked.

"Italy," Snape replied. If we run into him tonight, we're all fucked!

"Italy is a big country," Ron started. "Which part of Italy is he in?"

"I didn't bother to ask," Snape replied. Horseshit! Of course you asked him, you're as much of a control freak as I am.

"Will he be back by morning?" Ron asked. "I'd like to see him."

"I'll let you know if he's back," Snape said, his face expressionless. Why do I get the feeling that he's seen through my plans?

"Goodnight, then," Ron turned around.

"Ron…" Snape said, and Ron froze in his spot. "If you need anything tonight, you may come straight to my quarters. Even if you just want to talk."

"I'll… keep that in mind, Sir," Ron said slowly, his heart pounding in his throat. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Snape said, and Ron left the office without delay. I need to get the fuck out of here.

Ron headed straight for the Dungeons, only stopping when he saw a group of fourth year girls giggling near the entrance. Shit! He didn't want to run into any of his Housemates tonight, he just didn't have the patience for it. Most of them would be sympathetic, of course, especially the Sliver Triumvirate, but there would be one cunt who would smirk at him, and Ron would lose his temper immediately. And my plans will get ruined.

Ron slid into a nearby classroom, just one of many that littered the Dungeons. He didn't actually need a bed, did he? He could just change into his disguise here, and then simply wait for the appointed hour. Yeah, that'll work. I'll call Kreacher near midnight.

---

Saturday 30th January, 1994 (Travers Manor – Past Midnight)

Ron and Kreacher cracked into Emilia's study, and Ron nearly vomited inside his mask. Five fucking Apparitions back to back… Merlin, I'm going to be sick. Ron managed to calm his stomach, but his left leg gave out, sending him tumbling into some books. Ow… Why did they have to be hardcover?

"Lord Weasley," Kreacher croaked, his old hands trying to grab at Ron's tuxedo.

"I'm okay…" Ron groaned, his vision darkening for a moment. "Just give me a minute…"

"Lord Weasley should return to Hogwarts," Kreacher advised, he wasn't on board with this plan from the start. "Lord Weasley is ill, and he must not push himself like this."

"Get up…" Tracey whispered in the back of his mind. "Kill her, Ron… Avenge me."

Ron grit his teeth, and he pushed himself onto his feet. His knees wobbled, but he used his hands to find a steadying shelf. He wasn't going down so easily. He would power through his symptoms, and in doing so, he would claim victory in Tracey's memory.

"I'm all right, Kreacher," Ron panted, and then he shook his head clear.

A strong pang of pain jolted across his brain, and Ron visibly flinched. Fuck me! Ow!

"Kreacher will stay by Lord Weasley's side tonight," Kreacher promised.

"You can't do that, mate," Ron said. "Those men will eventually work for the Order, and you can't afford to be identified by them somewhere down the line. Emilia was clear on this, wasn't she?" Personally, I don't really care. After the Entity restarts the Cycle, the slate will be wiped clear.

"Lady Travers does not trust Kreacher," Kreacher croaked.

"Then she's a fool," Ron said. "You're one of the most loyal people that I've ever come across, Kreacher. If she can't see that, then it's her loss."

Kreacher looked overly humbled by Ron's words, bowing his head as far as he could. Seriously?

"Kreacher feels truly honored, Lord Weasley," Kreacher said.

"No worries, mate," Ron finally regained his footing. "Right… I'll see you back here once I'm done."

"Be safe, Lord Weasley, and do not hesitate to summon Kreacher," Kreacher croaked.

"I'll see you soon," Ron gave a parting nod, and then he made his way outside.

It was dreadfully dark inside the manor, and Ron had to use 'Lumos' in order to navigate the unfamiliar house. Fortunately, it didn't take him long to see a bright orange light coming from the grounds below. There are people down there. Ron made sure that his mask was still on his face, after which he made his way towards the lights. Emilia stood just outside the nearest exit, her back turned to him.

"Emilia," Ron greeted, and she calmly turned to face him.

"This again…" she drawled. I bought this mask, and I'm using it at least once!

"I don't want them to see my face," Ron said, feeling a little embarrassed.

"I suppose that makes sense," Emilia decided to let it go. "The men are all ready, as are the Portkeys. How was your journey here?"

"Fucked," Ron replied bluntly. "But that doesn't matter now… If we're ready, I'd like to get this over with."

"Come," Emilia led the way towards the grounds. "I've put together a team of eight men. They'll be joining us in taking the villa."

"And they won't talk?" Ron asked.

"They know better than to gossip," Emilia replied. "Their work often requires discretion, and if word gets out that they aren't discrete, they lose their livelihoods." Why am I even worried? I don't have to deal with this shit in the future.

"Let's just hope that she didn't manage to hire help," Ron said. Death in battle… That doesn't sound so bad. It's certainly less cowardly.

"Stick by my side," Emilia said. "I have already prepared a strategy for this battle."

They approached the eight men, all of them burly and scarred. They all looked Ron over and sneered, no doubt annoyed by his disguise.

"What the fuck is he supposed to be?" one of the men suddenly laughed, and Ron cocked an eyebrow behind his mask.

"You will treat him as a shadow," Emilia said sternly, and the men immediately straightened up. "If he's in the room, you don't look in his direction. If he talks to you, you do as he says. Understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am," one of the men gave a nod. They either really respect her, or they're scared shitless of her. Perhaps it's both?

"They listen to you," Ron whispered.

"I have spent the last few days sparring with all of them," Emilia replied.

"And?" Ron asked.

"And they know better than to fool around in my presence," Emilia said, and then she took a step forward. "Listen up! The villa that we're attacking has two floors, three fireplaces, and three exits. Donar, you'll keep the Wards up at all times. I don't want any men, or Elves, escaping."

"Yes, Ma'am," Donar repeated.

"Jack and Tom," Emilia looked to the men on the left. "You two will split off into two teams, each of you will be breaking in through the back exits. I will go in through the front, and we will all meet up at the stairs in the center of the villa. From there, we go up as one squad. Everyone understand the plan?"

The men gave a nod, and Emilia pointed to a large barrel behind the men.

"Inside that barrel is the Portkey," Emilia said.

"We don't get individual Portkeys?" Tom asked.

"We're not expecting heavy resistance," Emilia replied. "Maybe a handful of Elves at most."

"And if not?" Jack asked.

"Then we take our Portkey home," Emilia replied. "And return with even greater numbers."

---

Saturday 30th January, 1994 (Shadow of Mt. Vesuvius – Dead of Night)

"I hate to bring this up," Ron whispered as he peered over the hedge, the villa was quite far from here. "But why isn't the Fidelius Charm being used on this villa? This could be a trap."

"She's no doubt been using this villa as her own personal paradise," Emilia replied, she was lying down to his right. "If so, then she'd want to share that paradise with the men and women who catch her eyes."

"Of course…" Ron drawled. Why are all adults so fucked in the head?

"Get ready, I'll be giving the signal soon," Emilia said. "The moment Donar traps them all, we need to rush in."

"Will we feel it-" Ron started, but he suddenly felt like he was being squeezed into place by an unseen force. That was weird.

"Let's move!" Emilia ordered as she bolted onto the open clearing, her men following after her.

Ron chased after them, his wand already brandished. This is it! His boredom was completely gone now, pushed away by slight dread and genuine excitement. This could turn into a bloody battle, one which would finally put him down, or Emilia's plan would work effortlessly, granting Ron the chance to end Violet Parkinson. It's a win-win situation!

"Almost there," Emilia said as they neared the front entrance. "Jack and Tom… Go around the sides. Donar, you're with Tom's team."

The wands for hire broke off to carry out their mission, leaving Ron and Emilia alone at front of the entrance.

"Stay behind that column and cover me, I'll open the door," Emilia said, giving Ron a meaningful look.

Ron did as he was told, keeping his eyes open for any signs of trouble. So far, however, everything seemed to be going according to plan. The villa was almost abandoned, though the freshly trimmed grass gave away Violet's hiding hole. She was here, and she was low on manpower. Finally!

"She doesn't deserve your Magic, Ron," Tracey was suddenly behind him, her cold, dead hands holding Ron's left one. "She deserves nothing but savagery for what she did to me."

"Ron!" Emilia hissed, and Ron jerked back to life. "Wake up! I've got the door open, let's go!"

Ron shook his head clear, and then he followed Emilia in.

There was nothing but pitch-black darkness in sight, which meant that no one was on watch.

"Don't light up your wand," Emilia whispered. "Keep your hand on my left shoulder, and move with me."

"Got it," Ron whispered, moving right behind Emilia.

They made their way through the large entrance hall, their eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. The villa seemed to be recently cleaned up, with not a dust particle in sight. Someone was definitely living in here.

"The stairs should be close by," Emilia whispered.

"She's probably keeping her Elves close to her on the second floor," Ron whispered back. "They'll be serving as her body shields."

Ron then drew in a deep breath.

"Look," he started. "If the Elves don't fight back, just knock them out. Don't kill them unless they give you no choice."

"Sorry, but I won't be doing that," Emilia said coldly. "Mercy in battle can lead to your death. Tonight, we are not beings of compassion."

"Speak normally," Ron sighed out. "Just don't make them suffer, at least."

Emilia said nothing, but she did give him a nod.

"The entire floor is empty," Jack reported as Emilia and Ron turned the corner. Merlin!

"Send Tom and his team outside, they'll make sure that no one runs off," Emilia ordered. "Your team will be taking the vanguard."

"Thanks," Jack smirked.

"Get that smirk off your face," Emilia said bluntly. "Fall to formation, now."

"Yes, Ma'am," Jack gave a nod, and then he walked over to the other teams.

"You're very hostile to your own men," Ron whispered.

"I am not their friend, I am their commander," Emilia said calmly. "Becoming familiar with them… It leads to impaired judgment." Really?

"Speaking from experience?" Ron asked.

"Just focus on the mission," Emilia said, and Ron decided to let it go. "Let's move in behind Jack's team."

"Want me to stick by your side again?" Ron smirked from behind his mask.

"Yes," Emilia replied. "Let's move." Wow… Whatever.

They made their way up the stairs, all of them being as quiet and careful as possible. Once they were at the top, Emilia stopped them abruptly.

"Jack, take your team and go left from here," Emilia ordered. "I will go right."

"You want to split off?" Jack asked.

"I want us to surprise everyone up here," Emilia replied. "Not just half of them."

"And if we see the target first?" Jack asked.

"Capture her alive," Emilia replied. Why are we splitting up? We should stay together. We've nearly halved our numbers by sending four men outside.

Ron decided to keep his mouth shut, Emilia had more experience in this sort of thing, and he needed to learn from her tactics. They spilt up once again, with Ron and Emilia moving towards their goal side-by-side.

"The main bedroom is this way," Emilia whispered. "You'll get to her first."

"You didn't tell the others about this?" Ron asked.

"I tell them all they needed to know," Emilia replied. "You have to keep your men at arms length, especially if they're wands for hire." Right. "Stop."

They both stopped abruptly, both of them brandishing their weapons.

"What is it?" Ron whispered.

"Listen," Emilia instructed, and Ron did as he was told. I don't hear anything-

A wooden beam creaked to Emilia's left, and they both looked in time to see a small Elf open the door. Shit! The Elf looked in their direction, his big eyes fixed on their shadowy forms.

"HE-!" the Elf started, but Emilia dashed forward and sliced his throat open. Fuck me!

"The bedroom is at the end of the hallway!" Emilia roared as she barged into the room, kicking the kneeling Elf out of her way. "GO! She has a fireplace in there!"

Spells began going off as Emilia vanished into the side bedroom, and Ron decided to heed her orders. He bolted towards the end of the hallway, ignoring the sounds of doors opening and Elves yelling. There's so much noise! How many Elves are in this house?! A door to his right suddenly opened, and Ron slid as he came to a stop. An Elf had coming running through the door, and was now staring at Ron in utter shock.

"Reducto!" Ron fired the Reductor Curse at its tiny chest, and it shrieked before being blown apart.

The stench wasted no time in invading his nostrils, turning his stomach with its foulness. Merlin… What is that? Smells like blood, shit, and cooked meat… Ron got back onto his feet, his eyes fixed on where the Elf was standing mere moments ago. I can see the legs, but where's the torso? Ron took a step back, and then another, and another, and before long, he was sprinting towards Violet Parkinson.

"Cutis Terra!" Ron yelled as he spotted the last bedroom, and then he heaved himself at the door.

The door shattered into a thousand splinters, and Ron heard a woman scream at the top of her lungs as he rolled onto his feet. Surprise, motherfucker! Violet stood in front of the fireplace, a terrified look on her face, her wand trembling in her hands.

"Expelliarmus!" Ron fired the Disarming Charm at Violet's head, but she managed to erect a Non-Verbal shield in time.

"Avada-"

Ron Wandlessly summoned the fire poker behind her, and it pierced her through the right thigh, no doubt shattering her femur. She screamed murder, and Ron took the chance to Non-Verbally disarm her. She fell onto her side, screaming away like the world had just ended. If Ron were a better person, he would have stopped at the gruesome sight.

But he had seen too many of his friends and Family die similar deaths. And all of them at the hands of people like her! Ron reached forward and grabbed her by the neck, tossing her away from the fireplace with relative ease. She landed with a dull thud, another scream tearing its way out of her throat.

"Gods!" she howled. "Gods! SAVE ME! Please!"

"Your Gods are not here," Ron growled, his bones shifting unnaturally. "But We are! Come, pray to Us!"

Violet froze in her spot, her head slowly trembling back in his direction. The Basilisk skin lining wouldn't give way, so Ron's bones grew only in length. Soon, he was craning over the pale woman, as if he was a spider and she was a fly.

"Night… mare…" she prayed, tears soaking her face.

"Made manifest," Ron grinned behind his mask, his spin cracking and gaining a slight arc: giving him the appearance of a large, boney shadow, which was too long for its impenetrable armor. "Justice has found you, Violet Parkinson!"

"Jus… Justice…?" the woman trembled in a curled up form. "I have sinned… against the Gods? And… they send a demon after… me?"

"The Gods have nothing to do with this," Ron hissed, his gleaming eyes shining from behind his mask. "You have brought this upon yourself!"

Ron used his abnormally long left arm to hold his weight, while his right hand removed his mask. Violet fainted at the sight of his face, her eyes rolling into the back of her skull. Ron began laughing maniacally at her reaction, stopping only when he heard footsteps. Emilia stood at the door, her skin and armor slick with blood, and a look of utter disbelief on her face.

"Leave!" Ron roared, his jaw splitting open down the middle, revealing a maw of monstrous teeth.

Emilia tumbled back onto her arse before she bolted out of sight, muttering incoherent nonsense as she sped towards her men.

---

Ten Minutes Later

He had calmed down considerably, and once again resembled a human being. He had even taken some pity, and numbed the woman's leg with 'Torpor'. Now all that remained was to remove the fire poker. Here I go.

Ron drew in a deep breath, sneered at her face, and then yanked out the fire poker. She let out a throaty groan; some pain was to be expected. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked around as if she was in a daze. Ron waited for her to find him, and when she did, she just stared at him. Did I drive her insane? I hope not.

"Who are you…?" Violet asked droopily. "Come into the light…"

Ron took a step forward, his pale face now illuminated by the moon's light.

"Weasley…?" Violet muttered.

"I always knew that we'd end up here," Ron said calmly. "Somewhere in the back of my head, I knew that I was going to kill you one day."

"Kill me…? Why…?" she asked, her head falling back onto the ground.

"You dare ask that?" Ron asked. "You have taken everything from me. My friend. My Cycle. My life… This is justice. This is exactly what you deserve."

"Where am I?" she asked.

"You're at the end of the line," Ron took another step forward, the fire poker clutched tightly in his right hand. "Why did you do it, you bitch? Why did you do something so stupid?!"

"Did what?" she muttered.

"Why did you send someone to behead me?" Ron snarled, his foot crushing her fingers.

She whined and shifted, her eyes opening up again.

"Stay awake," Ron ordered. "Now, answer me. Why did you send someone to behead me? And why in public? What was your goal?" Why did Tracey have to die?!

"There was no goal…" Violet rambled in her half-conscious state. "You… are filth… And filth must be cleaned away…"

Ron just stared at her; he didn't know why he felt so jarred by her words.

"You hate me that much?" Ron blurted out. "Why?"

"Traitorous dogs…" Violet spat out, almost looking awake for a moment. "Blood-Traitors… The scum of Magic…"

"My friend wasn't a Blood-Traitor," Ron said, his blood was beginning to boil. "She was a Half-Blood-"

"Spawn of tainted cunt…" Violet tried to sit up, only to fail miserably.

Ron felt his hands tremble with anger, and his breathing became more and more erratic.

"What of a Pure girl like Pansy? Why torment her?" Ron asked, his voice shaking. "What did she do to you? Huh? Explain that to me."

"She drained all the joy… out of my life…" Violet said, her bitterness was slowly returning. "From the moment she was born… I was trapped… Forever burdened with a stupid daughter, and a fat husband."

"She is your daughter!" Ron snapped. "Does that mean nothing to you?!"

"She is a reminder… of everything that I've lost…" Violet hissed. "Everything that she took from me…"

"She didn't take a damn thing," Ron kneeled down, his left hand grabbing her jaw. "You chose to have a child-"

"The Gods chose my fate, Blood-Traitor…" Violet said.

"Fuck off with that," Ron tightened his hold. "You chose to have a child, and instead of protecting said child, you call her a whore and put your hands on her. Is it any wonder that she's so attached to people like me? People who treat her with love and respect? You are the reason why she's not like you, and you mindlessly punish her for it."

Ron then stood back up, a pissed off look on his face.

"Enough is enough," Ron grit out, raising the fire poker above his head. Cutis Terra!

"Wait!" Violet begged. "I can be a better moth-"

Ron jammed the fire poker through her parted lips, and he relished the sound of it breaking through the wooden floor. Violet's body began to spasm as she felt her throat fill up with blood, her wide eyes fixed on the fire poker's hilt in shock and horror. Ron smashed his heel down into her forehead, feeling it crack her head open like an egg. She continued to spasm, blood pooling around her at an alarming rate.

Ron felt relief wash over him, and he threw his head back and let out a long breath. When he finally looked back forward, he saw Tracey staring back at him. She looked healthier than ever, and she had her usual grin on her face. Ron smiled at her; it was so fucking good to see her again.

"Goodbye, Tracey…"

---

Saturday 30th January, 1994 (The Astronomy Tower – Dead of Night)

Emilia hadn't said a single word on the way back, but quite often, Ron caught her staring at him with wariness and fear. Even the men had noticed her staring, but they were too smart to bring it up.

The entire villa had been wiped out, and Ron had made sure that no one disposed of the corpses. The Aurors, or the Order, would eventually find the villa, and they would bring the news to Pansy.

She was finally going to be free of her mother. A small comfort, before the Entity restarts the Cycle.

Ron drew in a deep breath; he had never felt so scared before. This was it… He was at the end of his journey, a failed knight who had lost before the war had even started. A fool… His head was filled with negative thoughts, most of them aimed at his worst insecurities.

He was the weakest Weasley, and yet, he had been forced to go through so much shit. He was the least wanted one, but it was his duty to protect everyone. He had given up all hobbies for the sake of becoming a stronger wizard, but his friend had died saving his life.

He was just a fuck up… An idiot who stumbled from one mess to another, constantly struggling to keep his fucking head above the water.

This was no way to live… He couldn't take it anymore! There was no fucking justice in this! It was an unfair game, and he was tired of losing at it!

Ron grabbed the cold railing, his hands shaking due to his nerves.

"She'll get to live in the next one…" Ron muttered, his eyes stinging painfully. "They'll all get to live..."

Carefully, he climbed over the railing, one of his feet dangling off of the edge. The Courtyard was directly down below; he would no doubt land on the fountain if he aimed well. His vision soon began to blur, and he wiped at his eyes with his free arm.

"Daph…" Ron closed his eyes, thinking of his best friend as he leaned forward. "I'm sorry…"

---

AUTHOR'S NOTES: The fucking cliffhangers! Literally!

Haha, enjoy waiting another two weeks, suckas! But seriously though, I love you and I'm sorry I took so long.

By the way, there's a discord server up and running now.

FATE DISCORD SERVER: : / / discord. gg/ T7vMWau (Remove Spaces)

Acnelli was kind enough to set it up, so get on there! There are some good Fate! discussions happening over there, and I can keep people posted more easily.

See you guys soon.