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.

124. Chapter 124 - Kingdom

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Chapter 124 is here! I did it! It's four in the morning, but I did it!

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!

---

Fate

Chapter 124 - Kingdom

Daphne Greengrass' POV

Monday 8th February, 1994 (St. Mungo's – Midday)

The last two weeks had been a continuous nightmare for Daphne, but right now, for the first time in what felt like forever, her nightmare was seemingly over.

Ron was walking down the unfilled corridor, his brow furrowed as usual and his eyes betraying his racing thoughts. He looked as he always did, always thinking and always ten steps ahead, and that was enough to bring a small smile to Daphne's face.

It just felt so good to see him again…

She had been so worried about him since their breakup, but due to personal embarrassment and regret, Daphne had been unable to summon the strength needed to reach out to him. She knew that he would never reach out first, Ron had a habit of bottling up his worst feelings until they made him explode, so Daphne understood the importance of taking the first step wherever Ron was concerned.

And yet, she still couldn't bring herself to try this time around…

She couldn't bring herself to deal with his problems again, not when she had an overwhelming number of her own. She couldn't bring herself to get caught up in his pace, not when she needed time to slow down. She couldn't bring herself to constantly focus on one unpredictable friend, not when her endangered friends needed her support back at Hogwarts. He's almost gone, Daphne…

But then again, what was the harm in asking him about his health? He was still her best friend, the only one she had left, and that meant something. Right? She knew that he'd ask after her no matter what happened between them, so didn't he deserve the same respect? He's not going to notice you in your current state. Why couldn't you have done up your hair today? Or put on some blush?

He was nearing the fireplaces… It was now or never.

Daphne opened her mouth to call out to her best friend, but nothing came out… What was she even supposed to say? Maybe I can finally apologize for leaving him a day after he tried to commit suicide… Her stomach twisted at the thought, why had Ron tried something so extreme? Why hadn't she seen it coming? Why had she abandoned him when he needed her most? How was she supposed to deal with guilt and grief at the same time?

Panic began to bubble in her mind, and she mindlessly looked between Ron and the fireplace he was heading towards. He's almost gone! Say something!

"R-Ron?" Daphne managed, her throat tightening painfully.

He stopped immediately, a flash of disbelief shooting across his face, and then he looked straight at her, his pale eyes finding her dark ones. He looked a little reserved, but other than that, he looked exactly the same as always. He was perfectly fitted into a fresh suit, his slightly longer hair was styled, and he had returned to utilizing his full height.

It was like nothing had happened over the last two weeks, and that truly scared Daphne down to her core. Maybe he never really cared? No… That's insane, Daphne. You've seen how much Ron cares.

She began making her way over to him, unclear on what to even say once she got there. I don't want him to run off before I at least find out how he is. Just think fast, Daphne.

"Did… Did you come here for Tracey?" Daphne blurted out, stopping a little too close to him.

He visibly tensed, averting his gaze at the mere mention of their comatose friend.

"Are you finally visiting her?" Daphne asked, though she already had her answer from his reaction. Why are you here, then? Is it your brain damage?

He just studied her face, looking more and more hesitant by the second. What's wrong with him? He usually doesn't go quiet… Ron always has something to say. Something's really wrong here; I can feel it. Why isn't he saying anything?!

"Ron… What's wrong?" Daphne muttered, feeling dread creep into her bones. "Why… Why aren't you saying anything? Are you angry… with me…?"

Ron averted his gaze again, causing Daphne to feel lightheaded. I'm really sorry…

"I'm not angry with you, Daphne," Ron broke his silence. Then why do you keep looking away?

"Really?" Daphne asked; she didn't really believe him.

"How could I be after what I did?" Ron asked in response, and Daphne waited for him to go on. "I'm the one who tried to leave first, I know that… A part of me wants to believe otherwise, but I know that I did the wrong thing…"

Daphne managed to catch Ron's gaze at that, causing them both to go silent. She could see the shame behind his eyes, and likewise, he could see the guilt behind hers. He's really not angry with me? Why?

"Why are you at St. Mungo's, Ron?" Daphne asked instead. "Are you feeling sick?"

"No, I'm not sick," Ron replied, and Daphne felt her shoulders relax. "Are you here for Tracey? During class time?"

"Madam Pomfrey wrote me a letter…" Daphne answered lamely, showing Ron a crumpled note stashed away in her unkempt school robes. "I just need to see Tracey, sometimes… The Professors understand that…"

Daphne couldn't help but notice his immaculate clothes again, nor could she resist the urge to compare her own current appearance against Ron's. I must resemble a Troll's wife, while Ron looks perfect… How? Is he not upset about us breaking up? Did the last two weeks not matter to him?

"Daphne, what's wrong?" Ron gently pulled her away from everyone, stopping near a window. "You're just staring at me, and I feel like you're about to cry… What's wrong? Is it Blaise? Is he in trouble with his mother?" What are you talking about?!

"Why are you dressed like that?" Daphne asked, and Ron quickly looked himself over.

"I always dress like this…" Ron whispered under his breath.

"Aren't you upset about what's happened?" Daphne asked quickly, confusing Ron even more.

"Of course…"

"Then why are you dressed so well?" Daphne asked, looking a little hysterical.

"When was the last time you slept, Daphne?" Ron asked, steadying her. "I'm calling for help-"

"No, don't do that," Daphne drew in a deep breath, shaking her head clear. "I'm all right… If we make a scene, they won't let me see Tracey."

"Oh…" Ron let go of her, looking around nervously. "Are you okay to stand? I can get you a chair."

"Why are you at St. Mungo's, Ron?" Daphne asked, feeling a lot clearer in the head. Just keep breathing.

"I had some Quibbler business to take care of," Ron scratched his temple, awkwardly taking another step back.

"Does this business have something to do with Tracey?" Daphne asked, and Ron shook his head.

"No… I actually haven't gone in to see her," Ron said distantly. "Not since she was brought in, that is…"

"Why?" Daphne asked, feeling slightly vexed. "Don't you care about her?"

"Of course I care," Ron replied immediately.

"Then why not visit her?" Daphne demanded, forgetting her breathing exercise. "When you were in here, Tracey wanted to drop by every single day… Where's your loyalty, Ron? You really haven't visited her?"

"I can't see her, all right?" Ron put his foot down. "I will hurl myself out of a window if I have to see her, so I'm not going in there."

Daphne was left dumbfounded by that, was Ron still feeling suicidal? If so, why wasn't he at home with his parents? What was so important that Ron had to come here in person?

"I just can't see her, and that's final," Ron finished.

"And the rest of us?" Daphne asked. "Why aren't you responding to our letters? Even one letter in response would have been enough, you know?" Stop getting angry, you'll only make things worse for yourself.

"I wasn't feeling well-" Ron started.

"You look well enough to me," Daphne couldn't hide her spite. Just remember to breathe, Daphne. Practice what Madam Pomfrey's been teaching you.

"I'm on the Calming Draught," Ron told her outright. "Oh, and I'm on a Pain-Relief Potion at the same time. So… I'm not doing so well… I'm sorry for not replying, I should have done that before running around. Just don't accuse me of not caring, please." You're on a Pain-Relief Potion as well? Why?!

"Why would Mrs. Weasley let you out of The Burrow on those potions, Ron?" Daphne asked instead.

"I'm not… I'm not staying at The Burrow," Ron said dismissively. "It doesn't matter-"

"I'm about lose my temper, Ron," Daphne warned, causing Ron to go rigid again. "Stop being secretive, and give me a straight answer. What's going on here? Why aren't you recovering at The Burrow? Tell me everything right now."

"It's a long story," Ron sighed out. "Do you really want to hear it?"

"Yes," Daphne leaned against the wall. "Talk."

---

Thirty Minutes Later

"The Minister, Ron… Really?" Daphne had found herself staring at her ex-boyfriend for the last thirty minutes. "I don't get it…"

"What don't you get?" Ron asked; he was sitting across from her. "Fudge is as corrupt as they come, and because of his ego, so many lives have been lost. He's got to go, and I've made myself valuable to the people who are looking to give Fudge the boot. It was all pretty simple, I thought."

"Pretty simple to you, maybe…" Daphne massaged her forehead. "For me, it makes no sense at all…"

"Why?" Ron asked, not sounding very interested.

"Because I'm not on potions that clear up the fog, as it were," Daphne stated bluntly. "I just don't get it… You almost get… beheaded…" Daphne drew in another deep breath, resisting the urge to give into her hysterics. "Your friend ends up in a coma, you try to end everything, you lose contact with your friends, and… we broke up…"

Daphne then looked Ron over again, feeling rather ashamed of how she looked right now.

"I'm a mess, Ron," Daphne sighed out. "My hair's untidy, my robes are worn and unwashed, I can barely bring myself to leave my bed… But look at you… You're trying to usurp the Minister himself…" Am I just weak-minded? Is that why father constantly treats everyone better than he treats me? Astoria gets all the love, while Ron gets all the tutelage… And I get to look like this?

"I'm not usurping him," Ron said, his eyes scanning her. "And you look good, Daphne. Just like always."

"Really?" Daphne asked blandly. "I usually look like this, do I, Ron? I get that you're trying to make me feel better, but that hurt a little."

"Sorry," Ron scratched the back of his neck. "I don't know how to explain everything, I guess. If you're worried that I don't care about what's happened, I can tell you that you're wrong. If it weren't for these potions, I might have…" he trailed off, looking a little lost.

"Tried again?" Daphne offered, and Ron gave her a quick nod. Why does that make me feel so angry and miserable?

"Enough about me," Ron said suddenly, trying to 'subtly' change the topic. "You haven't told me anything about you. How's everything in Hogwarts?"

"Are you pretending to care, Ron?" Daphne couldn't help but ask.

"I don't really care about Hogwarts right now," Ron shrugged, and Daphne felt the urge to leave. "But I still want to know about all of you. How are the others? How's Blaise doing? Is Pansy still being harassed by her parents? Are Millie and Theo getting along? He's not getting on her nerves as usual, is he?" Theo…

Daphne felt her stomach tighten from anxiety; she couldn't get the image of Theo's head bouncing off of the floor out of her mind. He could have broken his neck… Flint nearly killed him over a verbal slight. We're all in so much danger! What are we going to do?!

"Daphne?" Ron leaned forward, his brow furrowed once again. "Okay, something isn't right with you. I'm getting help."

"Don't do that," Daphne quickly pleaded. "They won't let me see Tracey, Ron… You can't do that to me."

She then drew in another deep breath, coughing roughly quickly after. Flint is never going to back down because he's too stupid! What are we going to do if he hurts one of us again?!

"I won't call anyone," Ron promised as he kneeled down in front of her. "Just take in another deep breath, we can talk once you're able."

Daphne gave a shaky nod, focusing primarily on her breathing. She didn't want to be seen like this by anyone, and the sooner she could get her head on straight the better. I wish I were still in my room… What are the chances of me running into him like this? Are the Gods conspiring against me? Ron reached over and gave her knee a gentle squeeze, shooting her an encouraging smile when she turned her attention towards him.

"Thanks…" Daphne panted, shooting him a grateful smile of her own. He understands how this feels. "My panic attacks are not nearly as terrible as yours, but lately, I keep getting them… I can't even sleep properly…" I'm truly pathetic.

"Have you spoken to Madam Pomfrey?" Ron asked gently.

"I took your spots," Daphne nodded weakly. "Sorry."

"I wasn't really using them anyway," Ron's smile broadened. He's faking it, isn't he? Wait… I wonder if he has any Calming Draught on his person? I really could use a break from feeling so wretched all the time…

"Ron, do you have any spare Calming Draught?" Daphne whispered, and Ron just stared at her. "I… I'd like some…" Stop staring at me like that.

"I do have some, though I'm not sure about handing it over," Ron's features returned to normal. "Do you really want to become reliant on this stuff, Daphne? I can promise you, it's not good for you." I'm the one who always told you that!

"It's just for today," Daphne said quickly, a hint of agitation in her voice. "Just for today, okay? I can easily ask Madam Pomfrey for one, but since she's not here, can I have yours? Please?" Why are you making me more upset?!

"Here," Ron pulled it out a half-empty vial of Calming Draught from his pocket. "Take it, and then let's get you home."

Daphne wasted no time in chugging the potion down, silently praying for it to work immediately. Within seconds, her stomach began to feel cold, and soon enough, she couldn't care less about where she was. Her muscles stopped feeling tense, her shoulders sagged, and her mind let go of everything.

She felt nothing but calm.

"Feel better?" Ron asked.

"I do," she replied, taking in a fulfilling breath. "Thank you, Ron." That little vial did wonders. Merlin, we used to give Ron so much now that I think about it.

"Let's get you home," Ron stood up.

"Pardon?" Daphne looked up at him. "I'm here for Tracey, and I'm not leaving without seeing her."

"All right, then," Ron gave her a parting nod. "Just drop by if you can. A hot shower, a hot meal, and some time with your parents will bring you back."

"You're staying at my house," Daphne remembered, he had glossed over that in his story. "You left The Burrow."

Ron gave another nod, looking slightly uncomfortable. Maybe I shouldn't keep pressing him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Daphne asked out of habit.

"Not really," Ron replied. "Do you want to tell me more about how you feel? Getting panic attacks isn't a joke, and I don't feel right leaving you here."

"You could always join me," Daphne stood up as well, her body finally felt familiar.

"I can't," Ron averted his gaze. "I'm not ready for that, Daphne." It was worth a shot.

"I might drop by for a shower after I finish seeing Tracey," Daphne said, and Ron looked back at her. "I'll see you if you're around."

"Yeah, see you," Ron said, heading off before she could ask him to join her again.

---

Monday 8th February, 1994 (Greengrass Manor – Late Evening)

She felt something soft dab her cheeks, breaking her out of her nightmare. Tracey? Ron? Where did you go? Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw a head of red hair from the corner of her blurry vision.

"Daphne?" Ron whispered; he was sitting on the edge of her bed. "I'm sorry for waking you, but you sounded like you were having a nightmare. You… um… You were crying."

"Sorry…" Daphne slowly sat up, her brain felt heavy from her poor nap. "I thought the Calming Draught would give me a dreamless sleep."

"That's what the Sleeping Draught is for," Ron said, offering her his handkerchief.

"Thanks," Daphne accepted the offer, wiping her eyes clear. "What's the time, Ron?"

"Nearly half-past six," Ron replied. Damn, I overslept.

"I need to get back to Hogwarts," Daphne said, though she couldn't bring herself to move.

She just sat there, hoping to fall into a dreamless sleep. My bed is so comfortable, and I don't have to be scared about anything here. This is my home, and my father is king here. No one can hurt-

"Daphne?" Ron nudged her leg.

"Yes?" Daphne broke out of her thoughts.

"I'm going to ask the Elves to bring you some food," Ron said. "You should eat and rest-"

"Don't leave," Daphne felt a jolt of panic, and she quickly gripped Ron's gloved hand.

They both looked down at their joined hands, and after a couple of silent seconds, Daphne snapped her hand back to her side. I can't touch him so freely anymore.

"Sorry," she apologized awkwardly.

"It's all right…" Ron said, visibly tensing up. "The Calming Draught is beginning to wear off, that's all. You didn't have much, and considering your state at St. Mungo's, you definitely burned right through it."

"Yeah…" Daphne mumbled, pulling up her sheets a little.

Ron studied her for a few seconds, and when she returned his gaze, he leaned in a little. What is he doing?

"What happened at St. Mungo's, Daphne?" Ron asked in a hushed whisper. "You were so… jumpy, and you sounded angry with me. Are you angry? I totally understand-"

"I was just upset," Daphne stopped Ron. "After everything that has happened, I can't stop being upset. So when I saw you at St. Mungo's, looking like you didn't care, I couldn't take it. I'm sorry; I was out of line… I didn't know what was going on with you."

"Do you want to tell me what's going on with you, then?" Ron asked, and Daphne drew in a deep breath.

She looked around the room, noticing some unknown paperwork on her desk. He's writing out an essay? No, that's too much parchment for any essay.

"You've been in my room since I fell asleep?" Daphne asked.

"After your Elves bathed you and put you to sleep, they told me that you weren't sleeping peacefully," Ron explained himself. "They told me that you called out my name… And Tracey's name as well. Do you want to talk about that?"

"No…" Daphne feigned a yawn. "I'm going back to sleep, so you should find another room."

"You asked me 'not to leave you'," Ron stated. "In your dream, that is… You were also asking the same of Tracey. Daph… Just tell me what's wrong, I really don't want you to have panic attacks."

"I've already found a Mind-Healer, Ron," Daphne said. "Leave me alone." Why would I say that? I don't want to be alone at all.

"I bet you lie to Madam Pomfrey just like I do," Ron persisted. "You don't have to lie to me, you know that. I'll keep whatever you say a secret."

"You and your secrets," Daphne barely stopped herself from hissing. I bet he already knows who was behind the attack, but as usual, he's keeping it to himself.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron asked. "Talk to me."

"Fine… But you have to tell me a secret first," Daphne bargained, and Ron gave her a dull look.

"Why are you being this way?" Ron asked; he was starting to get annoyed.

"You tell me what I want, and I'll tell you what you want," Daphne stood her ground. "That's fair, isn't it?"

"Merlin, please help me…" Ron sighed out. "You better not back out on this, Daphne."

"Do you know who attacked Tracey?" Daphne asked outright. "If so, tell me who they are, and don't you dare lie."

"It was Lucius Malfoy and Violet Parkinson," Ron told her, and Daphne frowned immediately. They both hate Ron, so that could be true.

"Why did they want you dead?" Daphne asked.

"I don't know," Ron replied. "Probably something to do with my heritage, or some other imagined slight. I tried finding them, but they had already run off. Malfoy has now returned, but Parkinson is still missing. I think he's killed her-"

"Why would he do that?" Daphne drew in a sharp breath. "And why are you speaking about this so casually? Did you take more Calming Draught while I was asleep?"

"No, I didn't," Ron answered honestly. "If I had taken more, I wouldn't have kept watch over you during your nightmare. I wouldn't have cared enough to." Fair point. "I'm just giving you the answers I've come to."

"So, Lady Parkinson, Pansy's mother, is dead?" Daphne didn't know how she felt about that. I didn't like her, but to think that she's dead now… If Ron is telling the truth, then Pansy needs to know.

"As far as I know, yeah, she's dead," Ron replied. "However, don't be surprised if she shows up again in a couple of months. Let's just keep our guards up, eh?" We need definitive proof.

"Of course," Daphne had to agree. "Better safe than sorry, right? Isn't that what you always said to us? Remember?"

"During our training sessions," Ron nodded. "I do remember it, and I still stand by it. Tell the others to keep their eyes open when you go back to Hogwarts."

"There are rumours that you aren't coming back," Daphne told him. "Every one thinks that you had some guilt-driven episode after what happened to Tracey… I'm pretty sure Lavender and her friends started this lie."

"I'm coming back, but I need some time away from other people," Ron admitted. "I just can't be bothered with anyone… Not right now."

"Then why are you bothering with me?" Daphne trapped him, but Ron just smiled at her.

"You're still my best friend," Ron replied. "You're always the exception, I think." His potion has definitely worn off because that was really sweet. "Now, it's your turn to talk to me. Tell me about your dream." Oh, no…

Daphne let out tired breath; he was going to pester her just like she always pestered him. He won't stop until I talk; he's too stubborn to leave things like this alone. Circe, I really don't want to talk about this.

"It's just a nightmare…" Daphne started, feeling her gut tense. "Nothing graphic, but it always leave me full of dread… Don't make me talk about it, Ron…"

"What happens in your dream, Daph?" Ron leaned forward. "Talking about it will help, I promise."

"You and Tracey just walk away…" Daphne choked out, her fingers digging into her sheets. "I ask you two to stop, but you just leave me behind. Everything gets really dark, and I just… I really hate it… I feel like I'm living someone else's life, because mine wasn't supposed to turn out like this."

She immediately felt the weight on her chest being lifted; it was such a relief to just let it out. She no longer felt alone, and she was certain that Ron wouldn't tell anyone else about this.

"Do you feel like we've walked out on you?" Ron asked hesitantly, and Daphne didn't know what to say.

"I don't know, but sometimes… I just wish that you had come to me, Ron…" Daphne felt drained already. "If you were feeling that terrible, then why didn't you come to me?" Daphne then drew in another deep breath. "Why did you try to kill yourself, Ron?"

Ron shifted a little in his spot, looking haunted and regretful. Daphne waited as patiently as she could, but the look on his face was quickly draining her resolve. She had always been weak to Ron showing her his 'true self', the one who wasn't considered a prodigy or a chess champion. The one who's barely keeping his head above water, but swimming forward nonetheless.

"It's all my fault…" Ron eventually murmured. "What happened at Hogsmeade… All of it was my fault, Daphne."

"How?" Daphne asked, forgetting about not prying. "Did you know that you were going to get attacked?"

"Of course not," Ron shook his head, keeping his eyes on the white bed sheets. "But I should've figured that something like this could happen. I've angered some of the Old Families, and even right now, I'm planning to confront them again. We were only attacked because of my actions, and Tracey… She lost everything, while I got to walk away unscratched. It wasn't fair…" Ron trailed off.

"Fair? Is that why you did it?" Daphne felt a little shaken. "You tried to kill yourself to make it up to Tracey?" In what world does that make sense, Ron?

"It's hard to explain, but sort of…" Ron rubbed his face. "Look, I won't do it again, and I understand that I was wrong… I nearly threw away Tracey's sacrifice, and I didn't give anyone else a single thought in the process… I won't do it again." He sounds like he's telling the truth, but with Ron, one can never be sure.

"Why didn't you come to me?" Daphne shifted a little closer to him, resting her hand on his arm.

He didn't recoil from her touch, and Daphne took that as a sign to push onwards. She needed some answers, otherwise; she was going to keep having panic attacks. I have to confront this like Madam Pomfrey said, and I think I can help Ron along the way as well. I just need him to keep talking to me.

"Ron, why didn't you come to me?" Daphne asked again, giving his arm a gentle squeeze.

"I knew that you would talk me out of it," Ron replied, shooting her hand a quick look. "I didn't want anyone to talk me out of it, but I knew that if I sat down with you, I wouldn't have been able to go through with it… So, I just kept it to myself… I'm very sorry, Daphne, not that my words matter at this point-"

"They matter to me," Daphne said, stopping Ron from belittling himself. "Your words mean the world to me right now."

"Why…?" Ron blinked.

"Because… I'm starting to believe that I let you and Tracey down…" Daphne admitted, feeling a hint of anxiety in the back of her mind. "That I didn't do enough, which is why I'm all alone now…" Please, tell me that that's not true. Please, tell me that I didn't cause this.

"None of this is your fault," Ron said, his voice suddenly stern. "Tracey would say the same thing, Daph, you know that. No one can blame you in this-"

"I left you alone…" Daphne felt her eyes sting. "After what happened to Tracey, I left you to deal with everything on your own-"

"I'm the one who didn't show up, Daph," Ron put his hands on her shoulders. "You were there for everyone, while I was skulking around in the shadows of The Burrow… You didn't do anything wrong, and anyone who doesn't agree with that is an idiot."

Daphne studied his face, and she couldn't detect a single hint of doubt on it. Ron was certain of his words, and due to the resolute expression he was wearing, Daphne found herself believing his words as well. A small part of her would always blame herself for not doing enough, but at least now, she knew that Ron believed differently. He didn't blame her, nor was he angry with her.

She still had one best friend…

"When are you coming back?" Daphne sniffled, moving her hand from his arm to his cheek. "I miss you… All of us miss you."

"I want to get The Quibbler up and running before I come back," Ron whispered, his eyes darting down to her lips. "It won't take long, Daph."

They were so close that Daphne could feel his breath on her cheeks, and despite her better judgement, she was sorely tempted to kiss him. He wouldn't stop her, she knew that very well, but he might not enjoy it given that they had broken up, which was reason enough to hold herself in check. By the Gods, he's making it hard to resist by being so nice, though.

"We shouldn't," Ron suddenly whispered, though he didn't let go of her shoulders. "Neither of us is in any state to think this through."

Daphne felt awfully disappointed, and even a little hurt, but she didn't show it. Instead, she decided to ask the one question that had been lingering in her mind constantly, the question that had kept her awake most nights.

"What was it like, Ron?" Daphne asked softly. "When you were up there, on the Astronomy Tower, what was it like?"

Ron froze up from head to toe, his slightly widened eyes fixed on hers. Daphne leaned in and rested her forehead against his, letting him know that she would never speak of this again. This would stay between them, like their many other secrets.

"It was cold…" Ron was barely audible.

"And?" Daphne asked, moving her spare hand to his other cheek. "Please, tell me… I keep picturing you up there, all alone and desperate… You must've been so scared, Ron." I can't even imagine what it was like, which means that I'll never understand him if he doesn't talk to me right now.

"I… I was…" Ron managed, his voice trembling. "I was really scared…"

"Have you talked to anyone about this?" Daphne sniffled again, feeling terrible due to his meek tone.

Ron shook his head a little; his eyes were starting to well up. He's not alone now. Daphne pulled him into a hug, unable to stop herself from reaching out to him. Ron was uncertain at first, but after a few seconds, he was holding her just as tightly.

"Keep going, Ron," Daphne urged, rubbing circles on his back. "Let's just both let it all out, no one can overhear us."

"It was so cold up there, Daph," Ron whimpered, breaking Daphne's heart a little. "And… And I really thought… I thought that I was going to die…"

"And?" Daphne tightened her hug.

"And I thought of you… Right before I was stopped…" Ron coughed out, shaking like a leaf. "I thought of how hurt you would be… It felt horrible, Daphne, but I still…" he trailed off, crying over her shoulder.

"It's okay," Daphne whispered, soaking his shoulder with fresh tears. "You're not alone anymore. I'm right here."

"Tell me about you, please," Ron said shakily. "Tell me everything, okay?"

Daphne felt her heart ache painfully as soon as she thought about the last two weeks; every waking moment had been a nightmare. I know where to start, at least…

"After we broke up, I had a really terrible panic attack…" Daphne sobbed at the memory. "It happened right here, and ever since then, my head feels like it's going to explode… Everything makes me upset, my eyes are always hurting, I feel tired but can't sleep, and I look and smell dreadful… I spent all of Friday night in hysterics, and all because we had Astronomy… I couldn't stop picturing you up there, getting ready to leave me behind…"

Ron's hold tightened, causing Daphne to release another sob.

"I miss who I was before all of this…" Daphne added, feeling utterly trapped and free at the same time.

"I wish I had kept my eyes open," Ron sniffled, letting Daphne rest her weight on him. "I wish I had taken that Curse instead of Tracey…"

"I should've listened to you," Daphne cried. "You were right all along, but I didn't listen… Tracey would still be here if I had listened."

"Can I stay here for a bit longer?" Ron asked. "If you're not sleepy, that is. If you are, then I'll leave-"

"You can stay for as long as you want," Daphne felt some true semblance of peace. "I've really missed you."

"I've really missed you too."

---

Monday 8th February, 1994 (Greengrass Manor – Dinnertime)

"He's going to blame me," Ron stated once again. "I bet you one hundred Galleons, he'll blame me for you being here."

"Oh, please," Daphne scoffed. "You're his golden goose, Ron."

"What the fuck is that, eh?" Ron frowned a little. You know exactly what it is.

"He's going to ask me why I'm here, and he'll probably throw in a 'disappointed stare' just to hurt my feelings," Daphne wagered. "One hundred Galleons, if you can afford it, Weasley."

"Did you just make a joke about my family's financial hardships?" Ron asked dully. "A little too personal, isn't it, Daph? Do you want to knock my teeth out next time?"

"Ew," Daphne grimaced. "Don't make it gory, please. Be civil on the dinner table."

"We aren't even eating yet," Ron reminded her.

"We're waiting for my parents," Daphne countered. "You can't just start eating in their home without their presence. It's rude."

"So I should starve?" Ron asked, sounding rather petty. "What kind of tripe is that? I'm a guest, and I'm hungry… Shouldn't that be the priority?"

"Go back to your own house, then," Daphne smirked. "Go and enjoy that 'Weasley hospitality'."

"Wow… That… That fucking hurt," Ron went rather quiet, averting his gaze. Okay… I might have taken it too far. Damn.

"Ron, I was only joking," Daphne sighed out, and Ron grinned smugly. Shit.

"I win, because you started feeling guilty," Ron sniffed arrogantly. "This is why your father wants me as his son." Oh, really?! You're going there?!

"What does that say about us, then?" Daphne huffed in indignation. "Think about it, Ron, and then live with that."

"In some Families, that's perfectly acceptable," Ron snorted, making Daphne cringe. "I'm talking about the Carrows, of course. We get them to adopt us-"

"I'm about to hit you, Ron," Daphne warned, putting up a fist. "I'll make your arm go numb."

"Daphne? Put your… fist… down," came her father's voice, and Ron let out a bark of laughter. What sin have I committed, Gods? Why is this happening to me?

"Daphne Greengrass, answer your father," her mother scolded.

Sebastian and Mary walked further into the room, their eyes fixed on Ron and Daphne. They sat down at the head of the table, silently questioning the teenagers with their judgemental glares; they were no doubt about to blame her of some crime.

"Ron, explain yourself," Sebastian demanded coldly. "Why is my daughter not at Hogwarts?" Wow! He trusts me more than he trusts Ron?!

"See this?" Ron looked genuinely offended. "I've done nothing, and I get blamed for everything. Where was the bloody proof behind that accusation, my Lord?" Ron, relax! He'll go into a lecture, and I'm hungry. What are you doing?

"Language," Mary clicked her tongue, shooting Ron a paternal glare.

"I came here after visiting Tracey, father," Daphne stepped up. "I didn't want to go back to Hogwarts, I wanted to come home."

"You don't look unwell," Sebastian noted. "Are you sick?" The Elves worked their Magic and put me back together.

"She's homesick, love," Mary said, shooting Daphne a quick smile. "Do the Professors know that you're here, Daphne?"

"I sent an Elf to Professor Snape," Ron replied for her. "They know that she's here."

"So why was she threatening you when I stepped into this room?" Sebastian asked Ron. Oh, no. We can't bring that up right now!

"Go on, Daphne, tell him," Ron gave her a smug smile.

"He… I… Father…" Daphne tried to think of a lie.

Sebastian drew in a deep breath, reaching the end of his patience.

"I was poking fun at her," Ron said. "Her hair was a mess before the Elves fixed her up."

"Children…" Sebastian lost all interest, leaning back in his chair. "And why is the food not set? Where are my servants?" Did he have a bad day?

"Love, we're home now," Mary reminded her husband. "We don't bring our problems home."

"Tell that to your parents," Sebastian said coldly. Did my grandparents finally reach out to me? Wait… Why did they owl my father instead of me?

"Do they want to meet with me?" Daphne asked, and both her parents gave her tired nods. "Isn't this good news? My business plans can finally move forward, and I can trust my own Blood not to betray me."

"You don't know these people, daughter," Sebastian pulled out a letter, handing it over to Daphne. "They want to come here during Easter Break in order to 'spend time with their granddaughters'."

Daphne scanned through the letter, noticing a request for two separate bedrooms. Weird… Do my Grandparents sleep in different rooms? Don't they love each other?

"Why two bedrooms?" Daphne asked.

"Should I leave?" Ron piped up. "I feel like I'm intruding." I'm going to tell you everything anyway. What's the big deal? Just stay.

"I want you to hear this as well," Sebastian said, gesturing Ron to remain seated.

"It's best that you both know about my mother and father, so you can better protect Astoria from their influence," Mary added, causing both teenagers to become alert.

"Elias and Anna Maier," Sebastian said their names coldly. "They are greedier than any Goblin, and more ravenous than the Dementors. They will seek to turn us against each other, I'm sure of it."

"They despise your father," Mary added. What? If this is true, then I don't want to meet them.

"Why didn't you warn me about this before?" Daphne asked her father.

"I was hoping that you would look into them yourself," Sebastian said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "But since you didn't, Mary convinced me that this was the right thing to do. It would mean a lot to your mother if you could help her reconnect with them."

"They are still my parents," Mary said, giving Daphne a hopeful look. "Can you do this for me, love?" But what of my business plans? I really need that to go somewhere. I already put in a lot of work into my business debut, and my dignity is tied to it.

"Of course, mother," Daphne agreed without question. "I will do my best, I promise."

"What about Daphne's plans?" Ron piped up again. "She wanted their help with some warehouses, right? Will they help her when they get here?" Yes, will they? And do I even want their help after what father just said?

"That will be up to Daphne," Sebastian replied, giving Daphne a quick nod. "If she wants to have business ties with her grandparents, then she has to work for it herself. I've already opened the door, and that's all the help that she'll be getting."

"But we will put in a good word, nonetheless," Mary added, smiling gratefully at Daphne. So the rest is on me. That's fair, I reckon. I'll just be more careful, and look around for someone else's help in the meantime.

"Why the two bedrooms, though?" Daphne asked.

"They have a protégé with them at all times," Sebastian explained. "Eric Schwarz. He's a sixth year at Durmstrang, spends his time off from school with Elias and Anna."

"He's their ward?" Daphne asked.

"It's not official, but it looks that way," Sebastian said, and then he clapped his hands. "Elves! Have I stopped paying your wages?! Attend my family!" Yeesh, I suppose it's 'quiet time' now.

---

Monday 8th February, 1994 (Greengrass Manor – Night)

"So Flint just took a bloody swing at Theo?" Ron frowned deeply; he was sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Flint and his like are becoming bolder by the day," Daphne went on. "Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are the only Houses not affected by your absence. Flint's girlfriend got into a fight with the twins on Saturday, all three girls ended up with antlers and 'pigtails'. They literally had pig tails for pigtails… It was disgusting."

"What set the twins off?" Ron asked. "And are you referring to Gertrude Swans?"

"I am, and as for what set the twins off, I've got no clue," Daphne replied. "Nobody could really prove anything, it was all hearsay, but the twins are now being 'watched' by the Professors and prefects. Pansy has heard rumours that Swans is being a nasty predator towards the younger Ravenclaw girls. She puts them down, or alienates them from their friends. She's even smacked some boys as well."

"Why?" Ron asked. "Do you know what her problem is?"

"Some people just enjoy exerting their power over others, Ron," Daphne shrugged. "Flint punched Theo first, and after Millie Hexed him in retaliation, she got given detention by Carey."

"And Flint?" Ron asked, he sounded quite vexed.

"He also has one, but right now, he's still recovering from getting Hexed," Daphne clarified.

"Good, I hope Millie fucked up his face," Ron glowered. "And the Triumvirate are doing nothing, you say? They're waiting for me to return and do all the work?"

"What else have they actually done, Ron?" Daphne asked in response. "They came up with the idea to use the first years, but left all the responsibility to you. They even chose Malfoy over you as a delegate because they wanted to appease Lord Malfoy. Oh, and let's not forget that the last time Flint started acting out, they sat on their hands until you pulled them out of the fire." Daphne then gave Ron a meaningful look. "They use you, Ron, because that's how they've always survived. That's how they reached Triumvirate status. They're intelligent cowards, who will one day become Ministry sycophants."

"I'm going to guess that you're not a fan of the Triumvirate," Ron said, and Daphne rolled her eyes.

"That's what you took from my advice?" Daphne huffed. "Whatever, then… The Silver Triumvirate can keep leeching off of your hard work. I won't say anything."

"I'll do something about them, don't worry," Ron said, something shifting behind his eyes. "And I'll drop by Hogwarts tomorrow. I want to see Theo."

"Really?" Daphne smiled. "That will mean a lot to him, Ron."

"Has he recovered?" Ron asked.

"Oh, yes… He's already getting on Millie's last nerve," Daphne chuckled. "She threatened to give him another concussion during dinner last night, he's trying to paint himself as some tragic hero."

"That's good," Ron looked a little relieved. "What about Blaise and Pansy? Especially Pansy?" I wonder why he's so protective of Pansy.

"Blaise has been very cold, so nothing new," Daphne started. "As for Pansy, she was a mess after Tracey… She's so quick to tear up, as you know, but after Tracey, I constantly found her crying by herself. She was inconsolable, especially because we suspected her mother… She was certain that her mother was behind the attack, Ron."

"How is she now?" Ron asked, rubbing his chin with a guilty look.

"She's getting better," Daphne replied. "Doesn't cry as often, and we haven't caught her sleeping in Tracey's bed for a while."

"Fuck…" Ron shook his head. "I need to go see her, no excuses."

"Is Blaise in trouble?" Daphne asked a question of her own, and Ron immediately cleared his throat. I knew it!

"Has Blaise given you any reason to suspect that-" Ron tried.

"You just confirmed it, Ron," Daphne said. "I already suspected because of how solitary he's been, always sending his secret letters in-"

"Secret letters?" Ron asked.

"He's been doing it for a week now," Daphne explained. "He sneaks off to write letters, which he then sends early in the morning. Pansy followed him-"

"How does Pansy keep finding information?" Ron interrupted. What? "She hears all the rumours, she keeps track of Blaise's movements, and she was also the one who alerted us about Malfoy's plan of using Blaise." Pansy likes to talk, but more importantly, she likes to listen and observe.

"You're getting distracted," Daphne scolded. Or, you're trying to change the topic. "Tell me about Blaise, someone has to watch out for him while you're away."

Ron let out a resigned sigh, looking a little more serious.

"You're right," Ron started. "Blaise could end up needing your help before long… Long story short, Blaise sent an owl to his stepfather, Lord De Luca, warning the man to run away from Clementine. It was an anonymous message, but it was crucial that Lord De Luca heeded its warning. The day we sent it-"

"You were there when he sent it?" Daphne asked out of curiosity.

"I was there as an emotional crutch," Ron replied offhandedly. Does he think that I'm stupid?

"Ron… Did you talk Blaise into rebelling against his mother?" Daphne felt her temper flare. "His murderous mother?! How could you be so stupid?!"

"He wanted to send it," Ron argued, looking blameless. "He wrote the letter in secret, and went to deliver it himself. I was just there when he sent it through with a random owl, which was all a part of his plan. I didn't do anything."

"Then maybe you should have," Daphne drew in a deep breath. "Seriously, Ron… Sometimes, you really do my bloody head in."

"Are you trying to talk like me?" Ron asked in response, and Daphne felt her face heat up. He's ruined my vocabulary!

"Stupidity is clearly contagious," Daphne said snidely.

"That's more like it," Ron grinned. "It's that innate 'Greengrass smugness' that makes me weak in the knees."

"I make you weak in the knees, do I?" Daphne's lips quirked upwards. Is he flirting with me?

"Yeah, now that you've had a bath and have brushed your teeth," Ron started laughing, and Daphne hurled her pillow at his head. Arse. That was rather mean-spirited.

He didn't even bother dodging the pillow, letting it bounce off of his head and fall to the floor. He sniffed smugly, fixing his hair back into place.

"Apologize," Daphne ordered. "I was in a really bad place, Ron. Apologize."

"I'm sorry," Ron apologized, though he didn't look apologetic. "I shouldn't make jokes about that… So soon. I'll wait a few months."

"Prat," Daphne rolled her eyes. "Give me back my pillow."

Ron waved his gloved hand, and Daphne's pillow floated back to her side. That was nicely done, but I can't give him any validation by being impressed. I just have to act indifferent, and Ron will get riled up.

"Thanks," Daphne said nonchalantly.

"That totally impressed you, didn't it?" Ron smirked, waiting for validation. "Just being able to do that so effortlessly took a lot of work. It's all right to admit that you're impressed."

"Every Elf in this manor can do that," Daphne shrugged. "I've seen it happen hundreds of times already." Here it comes, just wait for it.

"Elf Magic is different," Ron lost some of the mirth on his face. "I know way more wand Magic in comparison to the Elves."

"Doesn't Marty teach you Spells?" Daphne tapped her chin.

"Sometimes, but I also teach him Spells," Ron said petulantly. "He just… can't use them… You know, because he's an Elf."

"So you're not really teaching him anything," Daphne smirked. "I bet Marty could snap his fingers, and a hundred pillows would start floating about."

"I'll ask him to bury you under those pillows," Ron muttered under his breath.

"Pardon? I didn't quite catch that," Daphne savoured his misery.

"That pillow trick took a lot of work," Ron huffed, hopping off of the bed. "I'm leaving, I clearly need to keep practising my Wandless Magic."

"Goodnight, Ron," Daphne waved him off. "Don't run off in the morning, I still want to talk to you before I return to Hogwarts."

"I'll see you in the morning," Ron exited the room. "Goodnight, Daph." He left the door open? That's such a petty thing to do.

Daphne smiled to herself, snuggling herself in-between her many pillows and comfortable covers. She knew that she wasn't going to get any nightmares tonight, and that thought alone was enough to put her to sleep.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Tuesday 9th February, 1994 (The Cliffside – Past Midnight)

"Are you clear on the plan?" Ron asked, and Marty gave a firm nod.

"Marty will be ready, Master," Marty promised.

"Go on, then," Ron looked ahead. It's quite the drop. No wonder Vicky was reduced to bone and mush upon impact. "Don't get spotted, Marty, and be as quick as you can."

"Marty will not fail," Marty bowed deeply, and then he left the Cliffside with a popping noise. I barely heard that Apparition. Why doesn't he always Apparate like that?

There was another popping sound, followed by a loud thud. Marty's quick as always. As Ron turned to face his guest, Marty popped back out of sight. Hope he's ready for this.

"Carey," Ron greeted, and she jumped up to her feet.

"Ron?!" Carey was wearing her silk pyjamas, and they were clearly doing nothing against the cold wind. "What's going on?!"

"I should've figured that you were sleeping," Ron averted his gaze, pulling off his coat. "Here, wear this."

Carey walked over hesitantly, and then she suddenly snatched the coat out of Ron's hand.

"What the hell are you doing?" Carey hissed, quickly putting the coat on. "It's the middle of the night, and you had me abducted from my bed?! What's the matter with you?!" She suddenly drew in a sharp breath. "Ron… What you just did was illegal, and I can have you reported," she spoke in her usual smooth manner. "I won't do it, of course, but we need to agree that this can never happen again."

"Flint punched Theo in the head," Ron ignored her act. "My friend could've been seriously injured within his own common room. Isn't that mental?"

Carey straightened her back, taking a step up to the edge.

"Flint was dealt with," Carey said, her tone slightly colder now. "Your friend, Millicent, hit him with a Puss-Filled Boils Curse, and he's still stuck in the Hospital Wing."

"Millie defended her friend, and you lot punished her," Ron said. "That doesn't send the right message, Carey."

"So we're to shamelessly favour you above others?" Carey asked. "Magic is a lot more dangerous than a strong slap. Every one is looking at us to lead, and if we start picking favourites, we'll be replaced within a heartbeat." I'm about to replace you right now.

"Don't try to act like some victim of circumstance, not when it's your job to defend the younger students," Ron frowned at her. "After everything I've done for you three, including bringing you into The Order, you should start having my back. I spent hours upon hours with the first years, I brought the second years up to standard, I worked with the fourth years, and I've always made sure that my year's quota is met. Yet, you still gave power to Malfoy, who just squandered it, thus causing me to look for his replacement."

"Why am I here, Ron?" Carey asked, taking a subtle step back.

"I have some orders for you," Ron replied. "This is strictly Order business, of course. I want you to hand me your title. I don't like the idea of the Silver Triumvirate, and I'm not going to deal with this weird little game you all have going. What happens next year, when there is a new Silver Triumvirate? Do I have to kiss their arses as well? That's such a waste of my time…" Ron then looked her right in the eyes. "I want to be in charge."

"Are you serious?" Carey let out a cold laugh. They only show concern when it suits them, and I can't trust people like that anymore. They know so much about me, and I can't take it back, but what I can do is show them where potential betrayal will lead.

"I'm serious," Ron said calmly. "I want to be in charge, but not because I'm power-hungry… I just want to be left alone, and that can only happen if there is no left to bother me." Ron then took a bold step in her direction. "I will drop by Hogwarts later on in the day, and all three of you will hand me the 'crown'. You can still keep your old responsibilities, but everything goes through me. I've opened up my busy schedule recently, so I can handle the workload. I even have a team of competent friends who can help me."

"What you're asking for is impossible," Carey said sharply. "The Silver Triumvirate has been around since the days of Salazar; it is Slytherin Tradition. You can't just abolish that, no one will stand for it."

"Then they are welcome to challenge me," Ron took another step forward, grabbing her by the wrist. "Are you going to do this for me, Carey? I've given you, and your loved ones, a chance at surviving the upcoming war. I've even promised you position and power after you graduate, and I plan to uphold these promises. If you give me what I want, you'll be given a spot on the winning team."

"And if I don't?" Carey tried to yank her arm away, but Ron's grip didn't fail.

"Then you become a hindrance," Ron stated. "I can't have anymore hindrances in my life, Carey."

"Let go of me!" Carey tried to shove him, but Ron kept his footing.

"I'm going to take your response as a definite 'No'," Ron said, tightening his grip. Cutis Terra!

Ron felt his body harden into steel, and with barely any effort, Ron hurled Carey off of the cliff. Her screams tore through the open landscape, echoing in every crevice around the cliff.

Ron ignored them, simply waiting for them to stop.

After what felt like too long a time, Carey's screams came to an abrupt end. Finally, how large is this cliff? She was falling for days! A sudden pop interrupted his thoughts, and Ron looked back to see Marty running up.

"Well?" Ron asked.

"Marty caught her, Master," Marty said proudly. "Marty didn't fail."

"Thank you, mate," Ron couldn't help but smile; he really did have very capable friends. "Take me down there, and let's get this over with. It's fucking freeze out here."

"Marty concurs, Master," Marty offered Ron his hand, which Ron took immediately.

The world suddenly twisted in on itself, and Ron felt like he was being squeezed out of a toothpaste roll. His feet hit the solid ground, and Ron nearly fell onto his face, barely managing to use his hands to keep himself from collapsing. Fuck me… I feel so lightheaded. I'm already so tired from my day, and those potions can't be helping my brain.

"Master?" Marty whispered, while Ron shot up to his feet. Power through it, Ron.

"I'm okay," Ron whispered back. "Take me to her, Marty."

Marty gave him a sceptical look, but he didn't argue. Instead, Marty led Ron towards the side of the cliff, where he had left Carey dangling upside down in the air. She looked to be screaming, but a bubble around her head was keeping her screams trapped for her own ears. Marty must've used Arresto Momentum to slow down her fall, and then used the Locomotion Charm to leave her hanging. As for the head, is that a Silenced Bubble-Head Charm? Talk about overkill.

"Marty, let her down," Ron said, and Marty gently eased her onto the ground.

Carey immediately shot onto her backside, crawling away from Ron with a terrified look on her face. She just dragged my coat through the dirt. Ron kept walking until he had her trapped against the rocky wall. The bubble around her head suddenly popped, and Ron heard a flurry of pleas and sobs.

"You've picked a side, it's time you start lifting your own weight," Ron kneeled down in front of her. "You three are perfect for the Ministry, but you are poor leaders for Slytherin House. You embody the worst traits of Slytherin, which only serves to make the next generation worse."

"I'll… I'll report… this…" Carey coughed out, and Ron moved right into her face.

"And what happens to you after that?" Ron asked, his eyes flashing red.

Carey let out horrified cry, shrinking against the rocks.

"You're a monster…" Carey whimpered, and Ron nodded at that.

"I am, which should only make your answer easier," Ron's red eyes illuminated her face. Just say yes, please… I'm tired, and I want to go home.

"Flint… Others like him… They will all oppose this," Carey muttered to herself.

"I'll deal with that tomorrow," Ron's eyes returned to normal, and he took a step back to give Carey some air. "I'll drop by after classes, Carey, so talk to Clara and Samantha once you're back in your room."

"You're letting me live?" Carey looked paler than the moon.

"I don't want to be bothered, that's all," Ron said. "Do as you're told, and we can keep working together to impress The Order. I want us to buy Slytherin a chance because I don't want to see my schoolmates die in a war that they didn't start. It's not fair, and I can't have that. I thought you understood this, but clearly, you care more about yourself and your imagined power. I can't be fucked dealing with this sort of behaviour, I have to focus on more important matters."

Ron then looked to Marty, jerking his head in Carey's direction. Take her home. Marty quickly hopped over to Carey's side, taking her by the forearm and Apparating before she could make sense of anything. She was still wearing my coat… Bloody hell. Wait… What's that smell? Ron looked around himself, noticing a dark puddle where Carey was resting. Ugh! Ron jumped away from the piss, grimacing at the polluted spot. Hope Marty misses the piss.

Marty suddenly popped back, Ron's coat tangled in his thin arms.

"Marty, there's piss over there!" Ron warned. "Save your feet, mate!"

Marty looked down, and then he did a couple of short jumps, creating loud splashing sounds.

"Ugh! No, Marty! What the fuck?!" Ron was left truly disgusted. "Why did you…? You sick fuck…"

"Marty is often asked to clean the bathrooms of Hogwarts, Master," Marty walked over, and Ron made sure to keep his distance. "Many times, Marty is left wondering if Wizarding children enjoy leaving behind a mess."

"I know I do," Ron muttered under his breath. Not a thing to be proud of, though.

"Pardon?" Marty smiled innocently. "Marty could not hear Master." I should learn to be more courteous; I don't know why I didn't consider the Elves beforehand. Probably because it wasn't my problem, which is a terrible excuse.

"It's nothing," Ron cleared his throat, looking towards the coat. "Don't tell me that-"

"Marty will have this washed immediately," Marty cut in, and Ron let out a tired sigh. I liked that coat, but now, it'll always be the 'Piss Coat'.

"Just take me back to the manor, please," Ron decided to end his night. "And keep looking into the Pure-Blood Families, all right? There's bound to be someone who is stupid enough to celebrate the Headmaster's condition."

---

Corban Yaxley's POV

Tuesday 9th February, 1994 (Yaxley Manor – In the Dead of Night)

"The Carrow twins want to hold a gathering," Corban said, taking a sip of his Firewhiskey. "They want to celebrate the freedom of our imprisoned comrades."

"Do they also plan to celebrate Dumbledore's rumoured injuries?" Lucius sneered; he hadn't heard anything from the Carrows. "The fools will land themselves in Azkaban-"

"They believe themselves untouchable, Lucius," Corban cut in, he was rather enjoying Lucius' company. Especially now that he's in the palm of my hand. "Our Lord infiltrated Azkaban itself, he conquered the legend of that dreaded island."

"It was that Vampire," Lucius looked disgusted. He drinks quite a lot, which isn't surprising given his situation. "Gaspard… Just the mere mention of that cretin makes me feel nauseated. We cannot allow him to continue whispering in our Lord's ear, Corban. The Dark Lord must understand that we are more valuable than the Half-Breeds."

"I know, Lucius," Corban spoke like a man holding all the cards. "Gaspard has his uses, and right now, the Dark Lord is very pleased with him. And now that his daughter has resurfaced-"

"Natalia survived Knockturn Alley?" Lucius froze in his spot. She has a debt to settle with you, doesn't she? Only I can protect you now, Lucius.

"She escaped after taking Rufus Scrimgeour's life," Corban smirked a little, enjoying the fear behind Lucius' eyes. "My point is that we are not untouchable, not anymore. The Dark Lord is relying upon the monsters, leaving us out to fend for ourselves. Right now, all of us need to be focusing on appeasing the Dark Lord, that is the only way for us to build The Pure World that our Ancestors dreamed of."

"The Dark Lord doesn't summon me, Corban," Lucius said, taking a long sip from his glass. "I am not alone in this, of course, but after how much I've sacrificed for our Lord, I should be granted some favour-"

"You are letting your drink speak for you, Lucius," Corban felt a little annoyed by Lucius' entitlement. "You tried to usurp our Lord's throne, none of us have forgotten that. Especially not the Loyalists… Perhaps the Dark Lord is keeping you safe by keeping you out of sight."

"They are awake?" Lucius asked, paling a little.

"Not all of them," Corban replied truthfully, regaining his calm. "The Dark Lord spends every waking moment with them, healing them with potions and the Dark Arts. After their escape, all of them were in no condition to continue breathing, the journey itself was not kind to them, but the Dark Lord has no equal in manipulating Magic. Before long, they will all leave their beds, and you, my friend, will need protection."

Lucius' jaw clenched, he was clearly angered by Corban's bluntness.

"My protection won't come cheap," Corban continued, keeping his eyes fixed on his long-time rival. "I want to bring the Old Families together, the Purest ones, and I want us to become invaluable to the Dark Lord. Once he wins the war, he will need rulers, and men of proper breeding, watching over his territory. We might never get another chance to build The Pure World, Lucius, and I'm tired of men like you, who are Pure, throwing away our children's birth rights by not securing this country's future."

"We've all heard this before, Corban," Lucius said, keeping his tone levelled. "I'll help you because I must, but don't expect someone like Amycus Carrow to be as reasonable as me. Unfortunately, many of us are born bloody-minded." Truer words were never spoken.

"I will get you an audience with the Dark Lord," Corban promised. "And you will help me bring the Old Families together. With all of our fortunes and influence combined, we could once again become the Dark Lord's most valuable allies. We would have no need for monster like Gaspard and Fenrir, and our sons will grow up to rule as kings."

"Our sons…" Lucius whispered to himself, looking Corban over. "My son is in the wind, Corban, and yours is on his way to an early grave." What?!

"You would threaten Felix?" Corban frowned deeply. "You are indulging yourself within my home, and yet, you threaten my ward?"

"I'm not making any threats, my friend," Lucius said, giving a 'polite' smile. "I've noticed that Felix has no stomach for dirty business, and in our line of work, that can be a fatal flaw." Felix is stronger than you all think, and he will continue to stand beside me.

"Felix grew up alone, sheltered from the world and its ugliness," Corban said, regaining his composure. "He will adapt, and in time, he will become the Dark Lord's second most valuable ally."

"Well, Regulus too had a weak stomach," Lucius said dismissively. "But he managed to do well for himself for some time, so perhaps you are right."

Corban gave a nod; he no longer wished to discuss this matter.

"Shame that Regulus went missing, though," Lucius finished his glass, matching Corban's gaze. "He was so eager to serve, until he realized that serving the Dark Lord was bloody work. Narcissa tried to hide his unwillingness to get his hands dirty, using Regulus' Elf as a substitute. If your boy is smart, he might try to do the same thing. Be warned, however, the Dark Lord always knew that Regulus was weak. Not much escapes our Master, and Felix isn't being very subtle."

Lucius stood up and stretched his shoulder, while Corban sat rooted in his chair. He has to be lying… The Dark Lord will not harm Felix. I have already proven myself invaluable, and that gives Felix protection.

"Consider my advice a gift for your hospitality," Lucius said as he left the study. Curse you and your gifts, Lucius. If you weren't Pure, I'd have you skinned alive.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Tuesday 9th February, 1994 (Greengrass Manor – Morning)

"Take care of yourself, please," Ron said, and Daphne gave him a nod. "And if you ever want to talk, just come visit me." I wish I had taken the Calming Draught today. This is really awkward.

"It would be nice if I could talk to you every now and then, it'll put my mind at ease, you know?" Daphne gave a reserved smile.

"I know," Ron smiled back. "Talking to you about everything… It really helped me, Daph, I want you to know that." I certainly feel more at peace with what I have to do now.

"Talking to you helped me as well," Daphne looked just like she used to, composed and regal. "I feel like I've got my focus back, and that's only because of you."

"Well, you've reminded me that I can't just ignore my own friends," Ron said, shooting a quick look around. No one is listening in, right?

"Why do you keep looking around like that, Ron?" Daphne asked.

"Oh… Just making sure that we're alone…" Ron replied lamely. "It's nothing, I just like to make sure."

"Are you looking around for an ambush?" Daphne took a step forward, placing her hand on his arm. Wow, she doesn't beat around the bush, does she? She's going straight for my throat. "I've seen the other boys do it as well, especially Theo… You should all talk to each other about it, Ron." What's there to talk about? I don't blame them for being a little jumpy, honestly. We weren't watching our backs when I was attacked, and now, we know better.

"We have to keep our guard up," Ron stood his ground. "No matter where we are, we need to remain vigilant."

"You're right," Daphne agreed, much to his surprise. "Though, we will talk about this new habit of yours the next time I come around-"

"Only if you start taking care of yourself," Ron cut in. "That's the deal, Daphne."

"I know," she smiled warmly. "I'm glad that we're still… friends…" Then why do you say it so hesitantly? "I should be getting back to Hogwarts. Make sure you drop by; I'll keep it a surprise for everyone. Oh, and no more Calming Draughts." Why did I agree to that? Still, it's good for my health if I just avoid that potion.

Daphne used the fireplace to floo away to Hogwarts, leaving Ron alone inside the greeting room. Maybe I should pay Greta a visit? She should be at St. Mungo's, right? Ron suddenly froze; he couldn't go to St. Mungo's… Not without taking the Calming Draught.

Tracey was there… She was waiting for him to see his handiwork.

"Ron?" came Mary's voice, causing Ron to jump a little. "Is Daphne gone?"

"Um… Yes, Mary," Ron cleared his throat. "She just left, classes will be starting any minute now."

"Someone we trust will be coming by to put up the Fidelius Charm on this property, which means that you can't be here for secrecy's sake," Mary started. "You can either accompany Sebastian and myself to Diagon Alley, or, you can go take care of your business and wait for us at Sirius'. We'll come collect you before dinner." Well, I need to go to Hogwarts after classes end, and I want to go see Emilia today with the Portkey she provided me. Maybe in the afternoon, I should go to the Ministry and speak with Mr. Crouch as well? Do all of my work in one day?

"I've got plenty of errands to run," Ron shot Mary a smile, and she gave him a knowing smirk.

"Just make sure that you're with us for dinner," Mary said. "Sebastian wants to eat at The Pond tonight." What? That's far too public. Someone could even poison all three of us, and we'd never figure it out in time because they bring all the food out together. No, this is too risky. I have to talk her out of it.

"Do we really have to go out?" Ron asked, and Mary waited for him to go on. "I mean, I'd much rather have a meal at home. Your Elves are amazing, and after we've eaten, we could relax in the living room. Doesn't that sound better than eating out in a packed restaurant?"

"I suppose…" Mary studied him. "Ron, is there something that you want to say, but are too embarrassed to voice?" Just like Daphne, Mary doesn't beat around the bush.

"I don't feel… safe… eating outside," Ron tried to sound aloof, failing rather tragically judging by Mary's sorry look. "I don't want to be outside after dark, to be more specific, especially in a public place. So… Can we please just eat here? Or, you and Lord Greengrass can have a night out, and I'll stay here and guard the manor?"

"Guard the manor?" Mary chuckled, despite her concerned appearance.

"I'll start by guarding the pantry, of course," Ron joked, giving a withdrawn smile.

"I'll tell Sebastian that I don't feel like spending my night away from my bed," Mary turned to leave. "I'll also ask the Elves to make your favourite again, if you want."

"Thank you, that'd be nice," Ron said, watching her disappear around the corner. I think I'll start skipping Hogsmeade Weekend as well. It's an entire day where I'm out in the open, and my friends and schoolmates also surround me. It's too risky, so it's just not worth it.

---

Tuesday 9th February, 1994 (Travers Manor – Near Midday)

"I didn't expect you to drop by so soon," Emilia walked into the dining room, wearing her Ronin Uniform as usual. She always looks immaculate, and ready to start swinging her sword at unsuspecting bystanders.

"I'm trying to stay busy," Ron said, finally looking out of his fruit bowl. "Do you mind? I helped myself to some fruit."

"No, help yourself," Emilia said offhandedly. "Back to the matter-"

"Is your niece here?" Ron cut in. "I don't want her seeing me around here. It'll raise issues."

"She is with her parents again, all the way in Paris," Emilia reassured him. "Can we talk business now?"

"Sure," Ron waited for her to take a seat. "You promised to tell me about the Loyalists. Can we start from there?"

"I don't see why not," Emilia sat down at the head of the table. "Let's just start with my deranged uncle, shall we?" She sounds pissed off again.

"Did I come at a bad time?" Ron asked, and Emilia just stared at him. What are you staring at? You're being aggressive towards me for no reason.

"It's not you, it's me," Emilia said suddenly, sounding a little resigned. Uh-oh… Don't like where this is going. "My power-hungry uncle is now on the loose, and I've sworn a Blood-Oath to take his life… I can think of little else since his escape, and it's eating away at me." She's as dramatic as me.

"Tell me about Phillip Travers," Ron said. "Maybe talking will help you."

"Oh, so now, you're doing me the favour?" Emilia smirked a little, causing Ron to smile in response.

"I was just trying to be helpful," Ron said casually. "No power dynamics at play here, Emilia."

Emilia chuckled softly, but she quickly regained her composure. Nearly had her that time, I'll make her laugh eventually.

"You are a mystery to me," Emilia leaned back in her chair, scanning Ron's face. "Are you human? No, definitely not… You're something else, aren't you? Are you even from this world? If not, then where did you come from? Why are you here? Why play the roles of a child? Why attend a school? Why make friends? What sort of logic does your kind follow?"

"You need stop saying such things," Ron looked around again. "Firstly, someone could overhear you. Secondly, you're beginning to hurt my feelings… Just a bit. Please, stop it."

"Your kind certainly has a sense of humour," Emilia commented.

"I'm a wizard," Ron drew in a deep breath. "I use a wand, I have a Magical Core, and I have Wizarding parents. I'm not some demon from another planet."

"Are you claiming that you're human?" Emilia asked; keeping her eyes fixed on Ron. "From what I've seen, you're not human. You speak, and my mind begins to scream. When you are angry, your form twists and becomes as monstrous as your rage." She is extremely dramatic.

"All you need to know is that we have a common goal," Ron said, putting an end to the absurd conversation. "We have the same enemies, and we both want them gone."

"Why do you chase after Death-Eaters, Ronald Weasley?" Emilia asked, and Ron let out a groan. "I need to know more about you, otherwise, I cannot ally myself with you. I too have a family to protect, and you're planning to anger Magical Britain's most powerful Old Families. I want to know why you're doing this."

"Why did you swear a Blood-Oath against your uncle?" Ron asked her.

"He played a role in my father's murder," Emilia replied instantly. "And his actions have permanently tarnished the Travers Family's reputation and honour."

"He's not the only Death-Eater guilty of committing murder," Ron said, moving his fruit bowl out of the way. "Even now, they continue to cause pain and misery for selfish gain. Lucius Malfoy is the real culprit behind Knockturn Alley's destruction, Robert Bulstrode sells human beings to avoid his taxes, Corban Yaxley dreams of turning this country into his kingdom, and only the Gods know what the other 'former' Death-Eaters get up to." And if it weren't for them and their Dark Lord, I would have had a normal and simple life. They are literally the face of injustice and tyranny, which makes them too dangerous to be left alive.

"So you want to kill them because they're evil?" Emilia asked; sounding bored with his answer. "They do bad things, so you want to do bad things to them?"

"I want to kill them because they will always keep holding the Wizarding World back," Ron clarified, and Emilia gestured him to continue. "My mentor, Lord Greengrass, showed me his personal ledger, and I won't get into the details, but the main point is that he was trying to show me why the Old Families are vital to Magical Britain's success… He was trying to show me that, without them, Magical Britain would become lawless and poor. I've been giving that a lot of thought, and personally, I can't bring myself to agree with him. I think the Old Families wanted to end up as Magical Britain's personal bank. I mean, why else would Corban Yaxley use Dolores Umbridge to draft a legislation specifically made to weaken the country's trade and small businesses? He wants to be the one paying for everything, right? If he controls the flow of gold, then he controls everyone."

Ron then scratched his chin, feeling a little agitated due to the topic. Don't get riled up, Ron, even if you're passionate about this.

"Lord Greengrass wants me to protect the privileges of the Old Families when the time comes," Ron continued. "He wants me, or rather my alliance, to protect his Family's interests in the future. I understand where he's coming from, my other allies will definitely side with him on this. Lady Longbottom, Aunt Muriel, even the Fawleys… They are a part of the Old Families, and they want to be rewarded for it."

"If you don't give them what they want, they will abandon you," Emilia gave her opinion. "So? What will you do? What determines which Old Family ends up on your hit list? Because I promise you, Ronald Weasley, even your most trusted allies have broken laws and swindled the weak at some point. You don't become as wealthy as the Old Families without stepping on a few throats."

"I know," Ron said. "I'm just not sure if I should share my thoughts with you." You are, after all, the Head of an Old Family.

"Do you remember what I told you about greed?" Emilia asked. "When we first met?"

"You said that it was Wizardkind's sin, or something," Ron remembered vaguely.

"Each witch and wizard is tempted by what is not ours," Emilia started. "When we wanted wands, we cut down the Magical Forests. When we wanted to rule, we betrayed the Fae. When the Pure-Bloods first settled in England, they brutally oppressed everything around them in order to begin their dynasties." Emilia then looked him over. "The Weasleys were a force to be reckoned with, and they were just as brutal as the Malfoys." That doesn't surprise me, given how long we've lasted.

"Is there a point coming?" Ron asked, not really caring about his Family's history. They're all dead, and their mistakes don't define me.

"Greed is our ultimate sin, and those who fall prey to it become monsters," Emilia said firmly. "Your alliance could become the very thing that you're trying to destroy. Has it occurred to you that they might be using you to weaken their rivals? Perhaps they want all of the Wizengamot on their payroll, but they can't outbribe Lords like Malfoy, Nott, Bulstrode, and Yaxley. This is where you come in and cause a ruckus, and while you're busy dealing with these powerful Lords, your alliance takes all the political power for themselves."

"So, what am I supposed to do?" Ron couldn't help but ask. "I need their wealth a lot more than they need my ideas. I wasn't born with a fortune, and even now, I don't have much of one. Not compared to them. I have to compromise, or nothing will change."

"Do you understand why your alliance is a problem, now?" Emilia asked. "They might be willing to indulge you today, but when they don't need you, they'll get rid of you."

Ron felt his back tighten because of stress; Emilia was making some really good points. I have to find a way to make them all stay on my side. How do I keep them loyal to me and to each other?

"How am I supposed to make them trust me while I don't trust them?" Ron asked, clenching and unclenching his hands. I could really use a Calming Draught right now.

"Come with me," Emilia stood up, heading towards a curtained window.

Ron followed after her without question, his mind mostly focused on regaining control. Emilia pushed the curtains aside, revealing a large portion of the property to Ron.

"That's the West Entrance," Emilia told him. "See those trenches, and all the men digging more?"

"Did Solomon send you all of these people?" Ron gawked, shocked by what he was seeing. There must be thirty down there alone!

"No, I hired a company from Scotland," Emilia replied. "These wands belong to me, not The Order. I don't trust the people in that organization, nor do I adhere to their sense of morality. I can't honestly expect them to come to my aid if my manor is attacked, it would be a foolish thing to hope for. So, what is the alternative?"

"You hire wands from Scotland," Ron replied cheekily.

"I empower myself to protect myself," Emilia corrected him. "These wands only have one purpose; protecting this manor from outside forces. The moment I don't need them, I will send them away, but until that day arrives, I will be prepared for anything."

"You don't chase power for power's sake, but instead, you chase it to protect you and yours?" Ron asked for clarification, and Emilia gave a nod. I can relate to that, though there have been times when I was greedy for more than my fair share.

"Greed is a part of our nature, and so, your alliance will be sorely tempted when the time comes," Emilia said. "You had better prepare yourself for that day, Ron, because our closest friends make for our deadliest adversaries."

"I'm actually looking into hiring a few wands," Ron admitted, taking her advice to heart. "How many should I get?"

"As many as you can afford," Emilia replied. "Many will question your actions, but you must only answer to yourself. I believe that you are not greedy, probably because you're not human-"

"Oi…" Ron frowned a bit.

"I meant no offence," Emilia stated.

"That doesn't change the fact that it was offensive," Ron said dully. "Ease up, all right? I'm not afraid of clocking women should the need arise."

Emilia smirked at that, which Ron found very odd. She's so damn weird.

"That was a refreshing thing to hear," Emilia nodded in approval. What in the actual fuck?! "Never underestimate your enemies, Ron, no matter their size or gender. All it takes is one Curse, or one lucky thrust, and even the mightiest titan can fall to an ant." I want to go home.

"Right," Ron nodded to himself, shooting another look at Emilia's troops. I wonder how many I can afford. Gornuk better keep selling all of those treasures from Hogwarts. Without that gold, I'll at the mercy of the Old Families.

"Come, let's go speak elsewhere," Emilia gestured him to follow her. "I want to meditate and clear my head, and then, I can tell you about the Loyalists." I can practise my Occlumency in the meantime, then.

---

Tuesday 9th February, 1994 (Travers Manor – Afternoon)

Ron silently looked around the 'Shinto Garden', noting that it was an extremely tranquil place. He sat with Emilia on a wide piece of land, surrounded by a decorated and populated pond. When he looked back up at the sky, he saw golden sunlight shimmering behind the sheltering 'Cherry Blossoms', which in turn produced a pinkish glow all around them.

"You are no longer meditating," Emilia spoke up, finally opening her eyes. I swear that she went to sleep.

"I've reached my limit with sitting around," Ron said. "Haven't practised Occlumency for that long in a while, if I'm being honest."

"You are a Master Occlumens already, aren't you?" Emilia asked, sounding rather curious.

Ron couldn't help but laugh at that, he was probably just below average.

"I have other tricks up my sleeve," Ron said offhandedly. "Do you want to tell me about the Loyalists?"

"Which one do you want to hear about?" Emilia asked, looking peacefully around the garden.

"Let's just start with your uncle," Ron said, and Emilia gave a short nod.

"Philip Augustus Travers," Emilia started indifferently. "He attended Hogwarts alongside Rebastian Lestrange, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Walden Macnair. In my opinion, he's the worst of the lot."

"Worse than Bellatrix Lestrange?" Ron cocked an eyebrow. Some of the shit I've read about that bitch… She sounds worse than the Dark Lord.

"As a boy, my uncle would spend his free time killing animals around the manor," Emilia frowned a little. "Pet rabbits, pet owls, pet dogs, and even my grandmother's oldest cat. He was never punished for his crimes; he was the Heir of the Travers Family. He tormented my father, his younger brother, for many years, but my father always reached out to him."

"Brotherly love?" Ron asked.

"It was one-sided, I'm afraid," Emilia said. "Philip Travers is incapable of love, I believe, and lives only to serve himself. He is greed personified. His first act as Lord Travers was to align our Family with the Dark Lord, not caring about anyone else's opinions or desires. When his own Family revolted against him, he opened the doors and told them to leave. He 'only needed the Name, not more mouths to feed'."

"And this impressed the Dark Lord," Ron figured.

"The Dark Lord gave my uncle the means to seize even more power," Emily nodded. "Philip Travers butchers others because he finds it entertaining, and his only real loyalty lies with himself. If it weren't for Alastor Moody, my slippery uncle would have found some way to escape Azkaban." So he's not really a Loyalist, rather he's a psychotic loon?

"Mad-Eye brought him in?" Ron asked. I didn't know that. Actually, I've never found anything on Travers' arrest.

"Who do you think took Alastor Moody's leg?" Emilia asked, and Ron's eyes widened a little. "My uncle was one of the first Death-Eaters captured by the Aurors, but he didn't surrender without a bloody fight which left several Aurors injured and four Aurors dead."

"Fuck me…" Ron shook his head. We should've killed these Loyalists when we had the chance.

"The Dark Lord used his most powerful Death-Eaters as beacons of despair," Emilia went on. "Bellatrix was feared above all others for her cruelty and madness, and even the Aurors knew better than to cross her without heavy reinforcements. Rodolphus Lestrange led the muscle of the Lestrange Family, acting more as a soldier than a Lord. His younger brother, Rabastan, controlled the Family business, as well as a large smuggling ring owned by the Lestrange Family."

"There aren't any Lestranges left besides Rodolphus and Rabastan," Ron said. "Surely, their little Lestrange Empire has gone to ruin."

"They will resurrect it," Emilia sounded sure of herself. "Those two are the perfect duo, an unrelenting soldier and a cunning entrepreneur. Together, they will build and strengthen the backbone of the Dark Lord's forces. They will have eyes in every street and sharp blades around every corner, and no place will be safe."

"Brilliant," Ron drew in a deep breath, rubbing his face. "What about the others?"

"There's Augustus Rookwood, a former Unspeakable who moonlighted as the Dark Lord's most efficient spy," Emilia said. "Everyone in Rookwood's life thought that he was a mild-mannered man, working within the Ministry to uncover the secrets of Magic. In reality, he was a cold-blooded murderer who envisioned himself as the Dark Lord's most trusted. He was the sole reason why the British Ministry was caught off-guard at the start of the Great War. For years, Rookwood fed the Dark Lord confidential information right from the Ministry Offices." He must've been quite the Occlumens to bypass the Ministry's workers.

"And if Rookwood wasn't enough, the Dark Lord later found himself a disciple capable of casting the most dangerous variation of the Imperius Curse known to Wizard-Kind," Emilia added grimly. "Ian Mulciber, a rather average wizard who only focused on mastering one Spell since his days at Hogwarts." What the fuck?

"He spent his life mastering only one Spell?" Ron asked in disbelief. "And he chose the fucking Imperius Curse? Really? Are all the Loyalists just mental?"

"Why do you think they found themselves within the Dark Lord's embrace?" Emilia asked. "They were all unhinged from the beginning, but then, they met their Lord and Master… He twisted them even further, turning them into monsters feared by even their own Families. There's a reason why they were locked away and forgotten, they caused nothing but death and misery everywhere they went."

"You asked me why I wanted to kill these people, right?" Ron asked. "Here's your answer."

"Touché," Emilia said, and then she gave him a meaningful look.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

"Antonin Dolohov," Emilia said, and Ron couldn't help but feel agitated.

"The man who murdered my uncles," Ron whispered under his breath.

"A man loyal only to his craft," Emilia said. "That craft being the Dark Arts, of course."

"He used the Great War as a means to further his knowledge of the Dark Arts, right?" Ron asked. "My Duelling instructor, Madam Roberts, already told me quite a lot about him."

"Did she tell you that he kept Blood-Traitors, Muggles, and Muggle-Borns within his laboratories?" Emilia asked. "Did she tell you how he deformed his test subjects, inflicting them with diseases and horrendous injuries? There are rumours that many Snatchers also went missing within his camps, and every time one of them vanished, Dolohov had a new Curse to demonstrate." So no one was safe from him?

"Why didn't the Ministry just end this degenerate?" Ron asked.

"He was captured at the end of the war, and the Auror who captured him, Frank Longbottom, wanted to do things by the book," Emilia replied.

"He did the right thing, and he was punished for it," Ron couldn't help but feel sorry for Frank and Alice Longbottom. This world has a habit of punishing good deeds, that's for certain.

"Was it right to spare a man like Antonin Dolohov?" Emilia asked, and Ron gave her question some thought

"Morally speaking, I'd say so," Ron replied eventually.

"Whose morals?" Emilia asked. "The Ministry's? The Order's? The Death-Eater's?" Why is she asking me these odd questions?

"Society's," Ron said. "People like us don't get to have a say on morality."

"Why not?" Emilia asked. Is she trying to have a debate with me about the complexities of murder?

"Because we're not really a part of society," Ron said. "I mean, look at us right now… We're meeting in secret to exchange information about an upcoming war that society doesn't even have a clue about. You and I are not bound by a 'normal life', you know? As such, our moral values are… crooked." Ron then looked towards the exit. "If Lucius Malfoy walked in right now, you and I would tear him to pieces."

"Of course," Emilia gave a nod.

"Now, imagine that someone else was in our shoes, and this person had been wronged by Lucius Malfoy as well," Ron said. "Would this perfectly normal member of society tear apart another human being?"

"Probably not," Emilia looked a little thoughtful.

"We're monsters, is my point," Ron said with a hint of disdain. "I think Frank Longbottom had to make a difficult choice, and even if I would've chosen differently, I can still respect the man's decision. He did, after all, defeat Dolohov when no one else could." He earned the right to choose Dolohov's fate.

"So you would not spare Dolohov?" Emilia asked after a moment.

"No, I wouldn't," Ron replied. "Can't leave loose ends." I'll be dead before long, but I'll make sure that I have company waiting for me in Hell.

"Good," Emilia gave an approving nod. "I wanted to know if we were of the same mind on this subject, so please, forgive my many questions. I often ponder morality in my spare time, and you have certainly indulged me."

Emilia then bowed her head a little, and Ron quirked an eyebrow. Um… What's this?

"You've given me a lot to think about," Emilia said, giving Ron a sharp lookover. "You are oddly… experienced… for one your age." I've seen things that you wouldn't want to believe, I assure you.

---

Tuesday 9th February, 1994 (British Ministry of Magic – Late Afternoon)

His afternoon with Emilia had been rather enjoyable, even if Ron found her odd and a little too rigid. Still, he knew that he could trust her, because as she had pointed out, they were rather alike. They shared a common goal, and neither of them could accomplish it alone.

Before leaving, Ron had told Emilia of his plan to infiltrate a Death-Eater gathering, and she had promised to find a pacifying agent for the Dispersing Device. The last thing Ron wanted was to poison a bunch of Elves and innocent socializers, though he had no qualms about sending them to sleep while he went about his business.

"Mr. Crouch will see you now," the secretary popped her head around the corner. "Hurry along, Mr. Weasley, he's very busy today."

"Thank you," Ron gave the secretary a grateful smile before making his way towards Crouch's office.

The door had been left open, so Ron knocked only to get Crouch's attention. A long-faced, baggy-eyed, skeleton of a man raised his head above the mountains of parchment on the desk. When was the last time he ate some food? And people think that I need to turn off?

"Well?" Crouch bit out. "What are you standing in the doorway for? Come in and shut the door."

Ron did as he was told, opting to stand behind the chairs in order to keep his eyes on Crouch.

"Has Madam Bones spoken to you about The Quibbler?" Ron asked, deciding not to beat around the bush. He's already impatient, so I'd rather not provoke him by trying to be clever. Best to hit the nail on the head.

"Yes, she did," Crouch put his quill away. "Would you mind hurrying things along on your end? Before Fudge drowns me in paperwork?" He's being unusually sassy… Is it because he's tired?

"What is all of this?" Ron couldn't help but ask.

"Fudge wants me to go over the entire Department's work, and I can't really refuse him because he, as the Minister for Magic, has the authority to make this demand of me if he thinks that my Department is lacking, which it is not," Crouch said in one breath. "Why are you here, Mr. Weasley? Be quick about it."

"Madam Bones' Aurors have agreed to speak up," Ron said. "Is there anyone from this Department who can back them up?"

"No, the people of this Department aren't essential like the Aurors," Crouch said firmly. "The Aurors can get away with testifying because of the escaped Azkaban prisoners, but everyone in this Department is already in danger of losing their careers because of my investigation into Fudge."

"I see," Ron said, feeling a little disappointed. I'll have to look for help elsewhere, then. "Well, is there anything else I can do to help? I do work here, after all."

Crouch gave Ron an odd look, almost studied Ron from head to toe.

"You think you're going to have a job in the Ministry after your magazine targets Lucius Malfoy?" Crouch asked. "Or better yet, when you paint Fudge as a greedy collaborator? Even I won't be able to protect you, then. Half of the Ministry will want you gone, Mr. Weasley, is that not clear to you?"

"Oh… I suppose you're right," Ron realized. A stupid oversight, I need to do better. Focus, Ron, focus. "What about after Fudge is outed? Can I have my job back?"

"You are like a dog with a bone, aren't you?" Crouch almost sounded impressed. I'd rather keep my eyes on you lot, that's all. "Let's see if our plan works first, shall we? We can discuss your employment after." Fudge is on his way out already, and I'll definitely be getting my job back. I'm finally taking it seriously, and I'd like to stay in the loop regarding this Triwizard Tournament.

"I'll remember that," Ron turned to leave. "I resign from my post within this Department. For now."

"Amelia will get in touch with you soon," Crouch went back to his work. "Don't start publishing without letting us know. We need to land one decisive blow."

"I understand." I might get some lunch, and then help out at the camp until it's time to go to Hogwarts. The Triumvirate better do as they're told, I'd hate to have to replace them.

---

Tuesday 9th February, 1994 (Snape's Office – After Classes)

Ron waited by a bubbling cauldron, wondering what sort of potion Professor Snape was brewing within his office. Probably something dangerous, given how black the potion inside is. Is it some sort of poison? Knowing Professor Snape, this is probably his dinner-

Snape suddenly burst into the room, his wand brandished in Ron's direction. Ron quickly raised his hands, giving the Potions Master a slightly puzzled look. He looks like death rolled over. When was the last time he slept? Or took a shower, actually?

"Step away from the cauldron," Snape frowned at him, lowering his wand and limping towards Ron.

Ron took a step back, while Snape flicked his wand and slammed the entrance shut. Wow… Someone is in a bad mood. Snape then looked into the cauldron, waving his new wand and muttering incantations under his breath.

"Did you add anything to it?" Snape demanded suddenly, and Ron shook his head.

"Was just having a look, that's all," Ron replied. "What is that? It looks… dangerous."

Snape scanned Ron's face for the truth, eventually walking away towards the desk with a deep frown. He must be angry with me for yelling at him after the Loyalists broke out. Whatever, I'll stick to business.

"Why are you here?" Snape asked, finally resting his leg after a day of mind-numbing classes.

"I have dealt with the Entity," Ron stated, and Snape's frown slowly vanished.

"You dealt with the Entity?" Snape asked, his tone completely indifferent. "What is that supposed to mean? What do you mean by 'dealt with', exactly?"

"It tried to kill me, we had a violent bout of fisticuffs, and I came out on top," Ron replied, and Snape's remaining eye twitched.

"Sit and talk," Snape said, and Ron took his usual seat.

"Well, the Entity tried to 'convince' me to become its minion," Ron started. "I refused, and using these…" Ron displayed the black claws on his left hand. "I managed to hurt it."

"You caused it pain? With those?" Snape shot Ron's claws a quick look, still looking indifferent.

"I don't really understand it, but I think that when the Entity broke out of Fate's cage, its essence got mixed in with mine," Ron tried. "I can now speak in the Entity's voice, I can also change my eyes to resemble the Entity's, and I can somewhat morph my body-"

"You can morph your body?" Snape interrupted.

"Do you want to see?" Ron asked in response.

"Go ahead," Snape leaned back in his chair. Okay, now, how do I do this again?

Ron tried to focus on a random unpleasant memory, his humiliation at the hands of the French came to mind. I was just trying to help rebuild St. Mungo's and the relationship between our countries, but they twisted my plans into a free pass to invade our Ministry. Feeling rather agitated and stressed, Ron focused on unhinging his jaw to take a bite out of Lady Abadie's throat. He barely felt his jaw grow and transform, biting the air in front of him like a Goblin Shark.

Snape's look of indifference was replaced by a look of disturbed curiosity.

"Like I was saying," Ron decided to continue, while Snape just kept staring at him. "I think I'm able to hurt the Entity because my claws are a part of its Magic. I couldn't even use my own Magic in Dream Hogwarts, but I was able to use these claws to beat it into submission." Honestly, I would be dead if it weren't for my counter part. Where is he, anyway? I haven't seen him in a couple of days. "After that, my Ravenclaw counterpart sealed the Entity within a Magical Hourglass. Now, it's trapped again, which means that I'm in full control of myself. However, I don't think we can expect the Entity's 'help' anymore. No more visions, I'm afraid." Best to come clean with them, especially because I'm making my own decisions now. If they don't want me around, so be it.

Snape just kept staring at Ron, making the redhead slightly uncomfortable. Is he looking at me like I'm insane? No… What kind of look is that? Disbelief? Snape suddenly drew in a sharp breath, and then he flicked his wand at his personal store. The door flung open, and loud shattering noises filled the office. What the fuck is going on here? What did that storeroom do to you?

"Damn this wand…" Snape hissed coldly, sheathing it once again. "Wait here, boy."

Snape walked over to his pantry to inspect the damages, the pain in his leg forgotten due his anger. Was he trying to summon a potion from his store? Ron looked back to the entrance of the office, recalling that Snape had slammed the door shut. Is his wand resisting him? That's weird… I thought wands chose their owners. It should be perfectly compatible with him, right? Why else would Ollivander sell Professor Snape his wand?

Snape suddenly reappeared, taking his seat and staring at Ron again.

"Sir-" Ron started.

"Drink three drops of this," Snape planted a small potion bottle on the table, it was clear and colourless.

"What is that?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"Veritaserum," Snape replied bluntly.

"The Truth Serum?" Ron frowned a little. "I'm not lying, Sir, and giving that to a student is illegal. My dad has told me that they don't even use the Truth Serum in trials anymore, it can be beaten using Occlumency."

"We're not in a trial, and you are not a Master Occlumens," Snape stated. "Your story might well be true, but for all I know, you're making things up, and are in fact, working for the Entity."

"What the fuck?" Ron muttered monotonously. "I'm not drinking some unknown potion, sorry. It could be poison for all I know."

"What would I gain from poisoning you?" Snape frowned immediately.

"What would I gain from becoming the Entity's minion?" Ron asked in response, mimicking Snape's expression.

"You little…" Snape hissed, but then he abruptly stopped.

He drew in a deep breath, studying Ron's face again.

"Am I that handsome?" Ron asked; he was starting to get annoyed with Snape's staring.

"The last time you were in this office, you crossed a lot of lines," Snape reminded him.

"My anger at you was justified," Ron said. "You said that breaking into Azkaban was impossible, but the Dark Lord proved you wrong. If you hadn't blindly joined the Headmaster's side, the Loyalists would already be taken care of."

"In hindsight, you were right to be worried about the Loyalists," Snape said calmly. "But at the time, I believed the feat to be impossible, especially for the Dark Lord, who has never cast a Patronus Charm in front of me. I believe him incapable of casting it, but once again, he has found some way to come out on top. You didn't give us any plans or suggestions, you simply called for murder like a spoiled brat."

"We would've come up with something if you two hadn't shut me down so hard," Ron countered. "Any time I brought this topic up, I was silenced immediately."

Snape quietly leaned forward, his eye digging into Ron's soul.

"If you ever mention Lily near me again, I'll take your life," Snape promised, and Ron truly believed him. "I might be in a poor state, but don't think for a second that you would prove a challenge for me. At your age, I had already mastered the craft of Spell Creation, and since then, I've made more Curses than you know Spells." He mastered Spell Creation around fourteen? Brilliant… I can't even hold my wand without needing the Pain-Relief Potion.

"I was out of line bringing up your friend," Ron couldn't help but admit. "I'm sorry for-"

"Why are you really here?" Snape cut him off, apparently done with the conversation. Fair enough.

"I came here to put an end to Flint hassling my friends," Ron replied, deciding to move on.

"Is that so?" Snape asked. "And how do you plan to do that?"

"I had a chat with Carey last night," Ron started. "I talked her into giving me the Silver Triumvirate's authority-"

"Did you harm her?" Snape asked coldly.

"Not physically," Ron replied. "But I made sure that she understands what her true role is. The Triumvirate, if they're smart, will finally pull their heads out of each other's arses, and with their help, we'll be able to give the other Slytherins a chance."

"Fear does not inspire loyalty, Ron," Snape said, clearly displeased with Ron's actions.

"And greed shouldn't be rewarded with opportunity," Ron shrugged. "After everything we've done for them, it's time they start being useful to us. You don't really care enough to step in directly, the Headmaster is still out of commission, and the other Professors don't really care much for Slytherin House. That leaves me to deal with everything, including twats like Flint. I'm sick of it, and so, I'm putting an end to it today."

"Do you have any intention to harm the students?" Snape asked, and Ron shook his head.

"I won't touch any of them, not even Flint," Ron promised. I won't need to. "All I need from you is permission."

"Permission for what?" Snape asked.

"Permission to take over, Sir," Ron replied. "Personally, I feel like no one should have power over anyone in a school, but my House-mates are raised to believe that they're special. This makes them think that their little 'House Politics' actually matter… It's rather pathetic, but I will admit to playing my part in it… However, now, I need to put an end to it. It's distracting me, and so, it has to go."

Ron felt a little lightheaded at the end of his small rant; it was getting harder to stay focused. He felt unnerved, naked even, like he was reaching the end of his rope. I can't get a Calming Draught from my stash because I can't remember where I was staying. It has to be the Fidelius Charm. I wonder whom Lord Greengrass used as the Secret Keeper.

"Ronald?" Snape called, and Ron realized that he was drooping forward. "Are you unwell?"

"I'm a little… frazzled," Ron drew in a deep breath. "I ran into Daphne yesterday… I told her that I was using Calming Draughts to stay on my toes." Ron then cleared his throat. "She became very worried when I told her, so I promised to stop." I'm regretting it now.

"The Calming Draught again?" Snape looked unsurprised, which, surprisingly, hurt Ron a little.

"I needed them," Ron said tensely. Still do. "I'm not afraid to admit that. I needed them to keep my head in one piece." Ron then straightened his back. Man up, Ron. "I shouldn't have brought it up… Look, I just need your permission, and then I can go in and do my business. After that, I'll be on my way."

"You may bluff to keep them in line, but if you lay a finger on any of them, including Flint, there will be dire consequences," Snape promised.

"I suppose that's all, then," Ron stood up. "People will come to you with complaints all night long, by the way…"

Snape sneered at him, looking ready to Hex Ron in the face.

"Sorry about that," Ron quickly made his way out of the office, closing the door behind him. I should let him cool off before approaching him about the Headmaster.

Ron turned on his heel, and began making his way towards the common room. In truth, he was dreading this moment. Seeing Daphne again had been great, but it had also been gut wrenching. Seeing her in that state had hurt Ron to the core, after all, he had played a big role in putting her through so much. He was no longer sure that he could look his other friends in the eyes and hide from the fact that he had nearly abandoned them. They all know of what I did, I'm sure of it.

"Open," Ron ordered the entrance, and it slid aside for him.

The familiar chatter immediately echoed in Ron's ears, reminding him of how great everything was just a few weeks ago. I shouldn't be here. Ron stepped further into the common room, looking in the direction of his friends. No Tracey.

His friends were sitting in their usual spots, all of them warming themselves by the fireplace. His eyes lingered on where Tracey would usually sit, right in front of the fire, and he saw that Theo was now occupying the spot. All of us might never get to sit together again. I should just leave right now, before I make a scene. Ron began making his way over to his friends, ignoring the ever-loudening chatter. Someone called out his name, and Ron heard a few surprised gasps, but he didn't deviate from his path.

"Hello," Ron greeted his friends, struggling to put on a smile. Maybe Theo still has his Calming Draughts? Fuck. Stop it.

"Ron!" Pansy flew off of the floor, clinging to Ron's side and crushing his ribs. "You're really here! Are you back?! Are you staying at Hogwarts again?!"

"No, Pans," Ron wheezed; he was already struggling to breathe.

"No?" Pansy's hold weakened, and Ron immediately drew in a sharp breath.

"Pansy, you're suffocating him," Millie said, and Pansy quickly let go of Ron.

The others had surrounded him, most of them looking visibly happy to see him. Ron felt his heart sink; their excitement was wasted on him. If he had gotten his wish, they would have been erased from existence. Or whatever the fuck happens to the failed timelines.

"Ron? Are you okay?" Theo asked.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Pansy already looked guilty.

"I'm okay…" Ron decided to keep his gaze low. "Um… Good to see you lot again."

"It's good to see you too," Millie finally smiled, patting Ron on the arm.

He didn't even feel the impact, but the action still bothered him. I'm being too jumpy, but I can't help it.

"If you're not back to stay, then what are you doing here?" Malfoy asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"I ran into Daphne yesterday," Ron started.

"You were with him yesterday?" Blaise asked Daphne. "Why didn't you say anything? I've been trying to get a hold of him for days."

"Don't blame her for that, mate," Ron cut in. "I'm the one who's been ignoring all of my letters."

"I'm sorry about everything that you've been through, Ron, but your advice has probably gotten me killed," Blaise put it out there, unable to hold it in any longer.

"What are you talking about?" Millie asked, and then she looked to Ron. "What is he talking about?"

"I'll explain later," Daphne spoke up, looking around them. "People are gathering around us."

Ron looked around, immediately noticing his first years waving him over. Merlin, help me. Ron drew in a deep breath, slowly making his way over to them. Along the way, he made sure to observe the reactions elicited by his return, and much to his surprise, quite a few Slytherins looked either relieved or indifferent. No one seems to be upset about my return. Where's Flint's gang? And where are the Triumvirate?

Ron brought his attention back to the first years, stopping a step away from them for his own comfort's sake. They all quickly stepped forward, and Ron didn't have the heart to take another step back.

"You all look well," Ron greeted the excited first years.

"You're back!" Tori beamed. "You've been ignoring my letters! We've all been really worried, Ron!"

"But we're glad that you're all right, nonetheless," Mathew added. "That's what's important, right, Greengrass?"

"Don't imply that I don't care about his well-being, Roberts," Astoria said dismissively Huh? "I know him way better than you do."

Tori then poked her tongue out at Mathew, and the brown-haired boy rolled his eyes in response. I guess things are getting tense between them… I shouldn't interfere with their personal lives; I've learnt my damn lesson. They're capable of figuring out their own drama.

"Can you two stop?" Lysandra asked in a bored tone. "Honestly, Ron, they're making the rest of us miserable. They've been at each other's throats for a week, and neither of them are planning to stop."

"It's not that bad," Derek said nervously. "Lysandra's exaggerating, you've got nothing to worry about." I doubt that, mate.

"How are you, Ron?" John asked, looking more worried than happy. "Are you back for good?"

"I'm fine," Ron replied, keeping his voice steady. "And no, I've only come back to take care of something."

"You're leaving again?!" Tori whined.

"Take care of what?" Sebastian asked; he was standing between the Carrow Twins.

"Can't really tell anyone," Ron said, putting his hands up to stop their follow-up questions. "Tell me what the House has been like in my absence." Stay on task, Ron.

"There's a lot of tension between the older students," Mathew quickly stepped forward to report. "Their studies are getting harder, and at the same time, Flint's lot are trying to provoke the Silver Triumvirate."

"And since Flint's lot don't care much for their educations, they're very much in charge already," Flora cut to the point. "Ron, may I speak to you privately? I have information you might find interesting."

Ron gave her a puzzled look, what was she up to? She looks the same as usual, but her friends look surprised by what she just said. Weird.

"Sure, Flora," Ron gestured her to follow him, making his way towards a dark corner. Be careful, she might be plotting something.

Flora followed closely, all but clinging to his side. Why can people not respect personal boundaries? They're driving me up the wall, and I've only been here for ten minutes. Flora shot a quick look back at the others, and then she gestured Ron to look away from them. What the fuck? Why is she acting so secretive?

"What did you learn?" Ron asked, feeling rather curious. "And why are you acting so secretive? Is it something dangerous?"

"I overheard some of the older students talking," Flora started, and Ron leaned in. She's so short. "Apparently, Lucian Bole spoke to them about mustering support against the Silver Triumvirate."

"Really?" Ron couldn't help but frown.

"I think it's going to happen soon," Flora replied. "The Triumvirate decided to wait around for you, I think, and that helped Flint immensely."

"Slytherin House…" Ron muttered, truly tired of the old dance.

"What about it?" Flora asked.

"I bet the Gryffindors don't have to deal with this hierarchy tripe," Ron said. "As if anyone will even care about these House Politics ten years from now… It's all so pointless."

"It's how it's always been," Flora said matter-of-factly. "Slytherin started out completely Pure, Ron, and at that time, all the Old Families were fighting for territory. This fighting, inevitably, began to surface within Slytherin House, amongst the children of the Old Families. The Silver Triumvirate was established specifically to keep peace amongst the students. The children of the Old Families are still competing for superiority, and as such, the Silver Triumvirate has continued to exist." Not for long.

"Keep the peace, eh?" Ron nearly rolled his eyes. She's clearly into Slytherin's history. Well, I could tell her a tale that would blow her mind.

"I like them," Flora shrugged indifferently. "They're nice to us first years…"

"But?"

"They're afraid of confrontation," Flora said. "A leader should never be afraid of confrontation."

"And who taught you that?" Ron asked.

"We were all taught that growing up," Flora gave Ron an unsure look. "Every Pure-Blood child, that is. Were you not educated in political philosophy?" Was that an insult? Or is she genuinely surprised?

"I learned to read and write, and that's about it," Ron stated bluntly, and Flora blinked at him. "Thank you for the information, Flora, I really appreciate it."

"Oh… Of course," she said vacantly, clearly still thinking about Ron's lack of education. Political philosophy? Who needs that?

"Can I ask you why you made such a scene about this?" Ron asked.

"I want them to think that I have some important business with you," Flora replied offhandedly. "It's for personal reasons." What sorts of reasons require you to act this way? Was she trying to get attention?

"You want your friends to pay more attention to you?" Ron whispered, and Flora tensed up. Got it.

"No," Flora frowned at him.

"It's okay… I'm not saying that there's anything wrong with what you want," Ron quickly backpedalled a little. "I'll play along, I promise." Where's the harm?

"It's not like that," Flora kept her frown in place. "Whatever…"

Ron and Flora made their way back to the others in silence, and Ron tried very hard to resemble his normal self. I reckon I'll excuse myself from the first years. I need some Calming Draught, or I'll fuck up the plan.

"What sort of information could she possibly have to warrant such secrecy?" Tori asked nosily, looking rather displeased. I found the harm…

"Ron asked me to keep my eyes and ears open for him while he was away," Flora lied, and Ron shot her a bored look. "Now that he's here, I figured that I'd give him my report." Report? What are you? Professor Snape's long-lost daughter?

"What?!" Tori looked aghast. "That was supposed to be my job, Ron!"

A jolt of panic shot up Ron's spine because of Tori's volume, she had sounded eerily like Tracey in her last moments. Don't even go there, Ron… Just breathe… You're in control.

"Ron, are you all right?" Sebastian reached out to steady Ron.

"Please, don't touch me…" Ron slipped past Sebastian's grip, leaving the younger boy a little baffled. "I just… I need a few minutes to myself. Why don't you lot go and study, eh? Um… Talk to Flora about this, she'll tell you everything…" I'll just walk away. Fuck it.

"Ron!" Millie called; she was standing by boys' dorms. "Over here!" Thank you, sweet Circe.

"Excuse me," Ron made his way past the first years, not waiting to study their expressions.

He moved through the common room, keeping his eyes out for Flint's gang and the Silver Triumvirate. Actually, I don't see any of them. None of the seventh years and none of Flint's lot are here. Where are they? Ron began feeling even more out of his element, had the Triumvirate gone to Flint for help? Why would they do that? It doesn't make sense. Flint doesn't give a shit about them… The girls are smart enough to know that, aren't they? Plus, if what Flora told me is true, then Flint is trying to usurp them. Probably wants to save face from his abysmal Quidditch career. Fuck, I really do keep throwing myself in these messes, don't I?

"Ron? Are you all right?" Millie gently took him by the arm. "You've gone as pale as a bloody ghost… And you're sweating!"

"I shouldn't be here," Ron swallowed thickly. This fucking House… We ought to just destroy it and make a new one!

"What do you mean?" Millie asked, stopping them once they were out of sight.

"Daphne asked me not to take any Calming Draught today, but I need it," Ron blurted out, feeling like his knees were made from jelly. "I'm sorry, but I really fucking need it."

"Just take a deep breath," Millie didn't know what else to say. "Everyone moved to the boys' room, so we'll go there once you've got your breath back."

Ron drew in a few more deep breaths, slowly feeling his body unwind now that he was mostly alone. I can stand in a camp full of injured and homeless people, but I can't stand within my own common room? What the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I such a fucking mess?!

"Do you want to talk?" Millie all but whispered, but Ron heard her perfectly.

"Not much to say on my part, really…" Ron tried his best to stand upright; his tense back was fighting him. "I'm a fucking mess, Mills… I need potions just to function like a normal human being… It's fucked."

Ron then looked back to her, noticing that she had gone very quiet.

"How about you?" Ron asked hopelessly. "How have you been, Mills?"

"Not very good," Millie replied, studying him again. "You're in a really bad place, aren't you?" What am I supposed to say to that?

"I don't even fucking know," Ron shrugged. "When I'm on the Calming Draught, I feel in control of everything. But when I'm not…" Ron gestured mockingly at himself. "I don't want to be around people, Millie, it puts me on edge."

"Then why did you come here?" Millie asked.

"Daphne told me about Theo's concussion," Ron replied. "I can't just ignore something like this."

"I can understand that," Millie said, looking a little uncomfortable. "But, Ron, we were going to handle Flint and his lot…" What?

"Who's 'we'?" Ron asked, leaning against the wall. "Mills, if you have something to say, please just say it."

Millie looked a little embarrassed, but she still took the opportunity to speak her mind.

"Theo and I were keeping the group together," Millie started. "He asked for my help as soon as we came back to Hogwarts. He was worried that we'd all drift apart, and in order to avoid that, we came up with various methods to keep us all together."

"Theo really did this?" Ron's lips twitched upwards. He kept his promise.

"I know it sounds unbelievable," Millie sighed out.

"Not at all, actually," Ron said knowingly.

"Really?" Millie blinked.

"Theo's a good bloke," Ron said. "Anyway, go on with what you were saying. I'm sorry for interrupting you."

"Oh, it's okay," Millie shook her head clear. "Like I was saying, Theo and I put in a lot of work to keep us together. He was constantly chasing after Blaise and Malfoy, and I was constantly consoling Pansy and Daphne."

"Thank you for doing that, Mills," Ron managed to give her a smile. "You and Theo did really good, especially given the shit-storm we're in."

"Did we, though?" Millie asked, uncertainty flashing across her face.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"You had to come back…" Millie said guiltily. "You're being forced to deal with this mess when you should instead be taking care of yourself." Hold on a minute.

"Mills, do you think you failed at keeping everyone together?" Ron asked, and Millie just shrugged.

"I don't know," Millie muttered. "I just feel really guilty about something."

"When I came in, you were all sitting together," Ron reminded her. "You were all studying just like we used to before Tracey got… My point is, you and Theo didn't fail at anything. He took a punch to the head, and you Hexed Flint in the face… You two were brilliant, I reckon."

"But we didn't stop Flint," Millie said, still not convinced. "We didn't solve anything."

"We're going to solve everything now," Ron said. "Together. Why do you think I'm back, Mills? We need to work together and put an end to this nonsense."

Millie nodded slowly; she did like the idea of working together again. I need to give her some perspective. She's worrying about a moron like Flint when she should instead be preparing for her future. Flint will be gone next year, anyway, so why is everyone making such a big deal about him?

"Mills, come here," Ron beckoned, and Millie took a step forward.

"What is it?" she sounded alert.

"This House is a fucking joke," Ron whispered, and Millie's eyebrows shot up. "Flint can strut around the common room all he likes, but the moment he gets dropped into the real world, he's going to fail miserably. Most of the pricks in this House will end up as faceless paper-pushers, snogging the arseholes of their employers. Sure, the wealthy heirs will go on to run their Family Businesses, but even that isn't very impressive considering that they didn't build anything themselves. Whatever happens in this House has no meaning out in the real world, and yet, we all pretend like it does. Why?"

Millie just stared at him, clearly confused about Ron's sudden rant.

"It just feels like it matters," Millie eventually replied.

"We're made to believe that it matters," Ron gave his answer. "The Silver Triumvirate is considered tradition, for Merlin's sake, but in truth, it's just three students who think that they're more important than you and me. Now, if they actually did their jobs, I wouldn't be talking like this, but time and time again, they've shown me that they only really care about each other. My friend got punched in the fucking head, and no one gives a shit… Enough is enough."

"Are you here to challenge the Triumvirate?" Millie whispered, going a little pale. "Ron, you can't replace them… No one will stand for it."

"Flint is already planning to usurp them," Ron told her. "They fucked up, and now, they're out of the game. We have to make our move now. I'm personally sick of this 'Target the Blood-Traitor' game that everyone likes to play. Aren't you sick of being ostracised as well?"

"Of course I am," Millie replied.

"Then let's go put an end to it," Ron began walking, and Millie quickly followed after him.

"Do you need help?" Millie asked.

"No, I feel better now that we're alone," Ron replied, thinking of what else to say. "Millie, isn't it more important that you think about what's coming? Flint is… He's nothing. He's just some arsehole who likes to pick fights with anyone smaller than him. Soon enough, he'll learn that the fish out there are whales compared to fish in this House, and when he gets obliterated by one of the whales, he'll realize how much of a joke he is." Ron suddenly stopped, catching Millie's surprised gaze. "I want you to think about that, all right? Think about what's out there, and think about where you will fit in."

"Um… Are you referring to the war?" Millie swallowed thickly, and Ron gave a nod. "I have thought about it, of course… I just…" she trailed off.

"What is it?" Ron asked gently. "Just tell me, please."

"My parents…" Millie averted her gaze. "They're not like the Death-Eaters from the stories…" Oh, no. Don't tell me that she honestly believes them to be good people.

"Mills-" Ron started.

"I've never seen them do anything that could be considered cruel," Millie blurted out, keeping her gaze low. "They've never pushed me into believing in the Old Ways, they only taught me the basics. They've even treated you fairly, Ron, you can't forget that. Merlin, I've never even seen them yell at our Elves… They're not murderers… I really do believe that they were under the Imperius Curse during the Great War. Even the Ministry pardoned them-"

"You already know why the Ministry pardoned them," Ron interrupted, and Millie drew in a sharp breath. "Mills, look at me."

She hesitantly looked up, and Ron realized that even she wasn't so sure about her own words. She looked almost desperate to believe herself, but at the same time, she was intelligent enough to question her parents' shady past. I should be careful here. If I say the wrong thing, I might just end up hurting her feelings. Bloody hell, if I was on the Calming Draught, I would know exactly what to say.

"I really do believe that they love you, Mills," Ron started, feeling a pang of guilt when Millie's face fell. "But that doesn't change what they've done, what they still do-"

"What does that mean?" Millie asked immediately. Should I really tell her? Daphne warned me against it, and truth be told, I know that the truth is going to hurt Mills just like Daphne warned.

"I found something on them," Ron decided to come clean. "Something that is very incriminating."

"What?" Millie whispered under her breath, her eyes unblinking.

"Your mother and father sell people into slavery in order to avoid their taxes," Ron whispered, shooting quick looks around them.

Millie said nothing in response; she just continued to stare at Ron. Ron waited several moments for a reaction, but Millie seemed to be frozen in time. Should I say something?

"You're lying…" Millie eventually broke her silence. "That goes against everything that my father stands for. He believes in preserving Magical Blood, so it's hard to believe that he would sell witches and wizards just to avoid taxes… Why would you say something like this?"

"Because it's true," Ron replied, standing his ground. "And he doesn't sell witches and wizards, he sells Werewolves. Does your father care much for Werewolves, Mills? Tell me honestly."

Millie shook her head in disbelief, taking a step away from him. Please, don't do this right now.

"I will send you a copy of the documents I found," Ron added. "Those documents have everything… The number of Werewolves taken and sold, who did the buying, who did the selling, the quality of the stock, the amount of tax that would be reduced, and even the gifts of gold exchanged between the Bulstrode Family and Gringotts. Everything you need to see is in there, and yet, a lot of chunks are still missing. Your mother and father have been doing this for so long that even the Goblin I got this off of didn't have full records."

"How can I even believe that, Ron?" Millie recoiled further away from him. "You… You could've just made something up… You're trying to trick me."

"What would I gain from that, Mills?" Ron asked. "You're one of my dearest friends, why would I try to hurt you? Especially after all the bad that has already happened?"

"Are you planning to move against my Family?" Millie asked, some iron returning to her voice. "I can't let you do that, Ron. You're wrong about my parents, and a scandal like this will ruin our honour."

"You have honour, but your parents don't," Ron said bluntly. "I'm not planning to use what I have on them, not unless they give me a reason. I just want you to be aware of the facts, nothing more. You can choose to do whatever you want with the documents I send you. Read them. Destroy them. Give them to your father. It's up to you."

Ron began walking again, leaving Millie behind to think about her parents' true nature. Maybe he had been a little too crass? She was clearly going through something already, and Ron had come along and challenged her loyalty to her parents. It had to be done. I can't afford to hold their hands all the time. I have to stay focused on the big picture.

Ron entered his room without knocking; something about being back here was already making him uncomfortable. Tracey was always here, either listening to music with Theo or playing Wizard's Poker with everyone.

"Ron, where's Millie?" Daphne asked, she wasn't alone in her inquiry.

"She's in the corridor," Ron replied. "She's thinking about something I told her."

"What did you tell her?" Pansy asked from Blaise's bed.

"Yes, Ron," Daphne gave him a knowing look. "What did you tell Millie?"

"It's private," Ron said. "If you want to know, ask Mills yourselves." Theo has to have some Calming Draughts left.

Ron then marched up to Theo's bed, stopping just in front of his trunk.

"What is it?" Theo asked, shooting a look towards the others.

"Do you have any Calming Draughts left?" Ron asked, and Theo let out a tired sigh.

"Can you not?" came Malfoy's voice from the back.

"This is just what we needed…" Blaise gave Ron a dull look.

"Ron, I thought we agreed on no more Calming Draughts," Daphne stepped up to his side, she definitely didn't approve.

"You just came back, mate-" Theo started.

"I need one," Ron said, trying his best to keep his volume in check. "Please, stop talking. I just need one Calming Draught, and then I can start thinking again. I'm not asking for too much here, am I? Just a bit of understanding…"

Ron then reached down and opened Theo's trunk, ignoring Theo's cry for privacy. Ron quickly moved the clothes and undergarments out of the way, seizing the Calming Draught box. He pulled out a small vial, uncorked it, and chugged its contents down. Finally…

"Ron…" Daphne mumbled, utterly shocked by his behaviour. Just breathe, Ron. Let the tension out of your system.

"You better pack my clothes back in," Theo frowned deeply, his eyes fixed on his discarded clothes. I'm back.

"Are we just going to ignore this?" Malfoy asked, while Ron Charmed Theo's trunk to pack itself. "Even a Niffler doesn't chase after gems with such passion-"

"Stop it," Pansy glared murder at Malfoy.

"Ron, what happened?" Daphne whispered. "What did you say to Millie?"

"I told her everything," Ron whispered back, fixing his suit into place. "Look, she's already here, so there's nothing to worry about."

Everyone looked towards the entrance, finally noticing Millie quietly closing the door. I feel like I just woke up from a long nap. I feel so alert and focused; it's brilliant. Millie turned to face her friends, freezing up when she caught them all staring at her.

"What is it?" Millie asked slowly, shooting a glance at Ron.

Daphne quickly made her way over to Millie, pulling her aside and speaking in hushed whispers. Pansy looked between Ron and Millie, and then she slowly walked over and joined Daphne.

"What is going on here?" Theo asked Ron. "Mate, you mind sharing the reason behind your visit?"

"I'm here because Flint hit you," Ron replied calmly. "Daphne told me what happened, Theo. We can't let this slide. We need to put an end to it."

"An end to what?" Blaise asked. "Flint's aggressive behaviour? Or the Triumvirate's cowardly streak?"

"Why not both?" Ron asked, and Blaise cocked an eyebrow.

"Do you have a plan?" Blaise asked, walking over to Theo's bed.

The three boys made a small circle at the foot of Theo's bed, and Ron looked over to Malfoy.

"Do you want to pitch in this time?" Ron asked, and without a word, Malfoy walked over and joined the boys. Right, let's get started.

---

Thirty Minutes Later

"This could backfire, Ron," Blaise said bluntly. "I'm with Malfoy on this, you should just seize power by force. There is no way that we can pull this off."

"Seizing power by force will only create more problems for us down the line," Daphne countered. "No one in Slytherin will stand for it, especially not Professor Snape. Oh, it'll make Ron no different from Flint."

"Let me worry about Professor Snape," Ron said distractedly, he had already made up his mind. "I'm going with Pansy, Daphne, and Theo on this. We'll put it up to a vote, and let the House decide who should run things. Me, or Flint."

"What if someone nominates the Triumvirate?" Malfoy asked. They won't be running.

"Don't allow nominations, then," Pansy said. "Just make this about you and Flint, treat the Triumvirate like they've already lost their power." That's the plan. "Just don't embarrass them too much, all right? Clara is a… friend…" A 'Friend'? She's an Order member, and she needs to start acting like one.

"I'm not worried about the Triumvirate," Ron said, he was certain that Carey was going to hand him the crown once the seventh years returned from their mock Transfiguration Exam. I was worried that they were plotting against me, but they don't have the courage for that. I am their only hope.

"I get that you're on the Calming Draught, Ron, but you seem a little too calm about this," Theo pointed out. "Are you sure that you're up to it?"

"I'm calm because this really doesn't matter to me," Ron admitted, and his friends exchanged quick looks.

"Then what are we doing?" Blaise asked. "If you don't even care about this, then why aren't we talking about more important matters?" You mean your problems?

"This is just so we can have peace," Ron told them. "Look, we've taken a lot of hits in this House. Every three months, everyone turns on us, and I'm sick of it. I want to be left alone, and I know that you lot want the same."

"What if you lose?" Malfoy asked. "Then you get to leave, and we have to put up with 'King Flint'."

"He has a point," Blaise chimed in. "It's too risky, Ron."

"If I lose, then we'll just leave Slytherin behind for a while," Ron shrugged. "We have the Sanctuary, don't we?"

"Ron…" Daphne muttered, while the others didn't look too pleased. "We can't just leave the House… Who will watch over my sister?"

"I like spending time with the fourth year girls," Pansy added.

"We'll lose out on too many opportunities," Theo said. "Oh, and we'll look like cowards."

"Then you can all stay," Ron said indifferently. "I'm not going to stop you." If they genuinely vote for Flint over me, then I don't care what anyone says; I'm leaving. I'll just find some other way to influence the younger Slytherins.

Ron stood up and fixed his suit in place, shooting a quick look at a sleeping Millie. It's a shame that she reacted so poorly to the truth, but it needed to be done. I'll just bring her a copy of the documents in a couple of days in order to let her cool off. At least now, she can make her choice whilst having all the facts.

"Let's go," Ron said, heading towards the door. "I promised to have dinner with Lord and Lady Greengrass, and it's starting to get late."

"What about Millie?" Pansy asked.

"Wake her up and tell her about the plan," Ron replied. "I need everyone on this."

Ron made his way out of the boys' room, followed closely by Theo, Blaise, and Malfoy.

"I'll keep an eye out for the seventh years," Theo volunteered. "Their mock exam should be finished by now."

"Use the Disillusionment Charm," Ron suggested. "I don't want them to know that I'm already here." Only the Triumvirate know that I'll be waiting for them, and I don't plan to give them any more time.

As they began nearing the common room, Ron stopped them in front of the exit.

"I'll go on ahead," Theo said, and Ron gave him a nod.

"Come running when you see them," Ron said, and Theo left with a quickened pace.

"Is Theo keeping lookout?" Daphne asked, behind her were Pansy and Millie. Mills looks distant and tired. Is she really up to this? I don't want her losing her temper.

"He is," Blaise replied, and then he looked towards Ron. "Pansy and I can talk to the fourth years, if you want."

"Most of them already think that you're more reliable than the Triumvirate," Pansy added. "Handing over that picture of Barbara Miller really paid off in the end, Ron." I forgot that I did that.

"Millie and Daphne can talk to the second years," Ron said. "Malfoy, you're to let the first years know that they must vote for me."

"Can't I talk to the fourth years instead?" Malfoy asked. "The first years-"

"I wasn't asking," Ron put an end to Malfoy's tripe. "Just do your job, please. We don't have much time."

"Let's go," Blaise gestured Pansy to follow him, and they both left in a hurry.

Malfoy shot Ron a frown, but he too left with a quickened pace.

"Daphne? Mills?" Ron looked to the two girls.

"I'll go on ahead," Millie said, leaving without giving Ron another look. I guess we're blaming the messenger, then. Whatever, I'll deal with her later. I need to stay focused on the task at hand.

"We agreed to not tell Millie about her parents," Daphne broke the silence, and Ron turned his attention towards her.

"Is now the best time for this?" Ron asked. "You should go help Mills, I need to think of a speech or something."

"Look at what you've done to her, Ron," Daphne stepped up, glaring at him. "She's convinced that you're trying to besmirch her parents' honour, and yet, you still have the gall to ask for her help." Oh…

"Send her away, then," Ron gave a simple solution. "Let her sleep it off-"

"Are you even hearing yourself right now?" Daphne bit out. "This potion… Ron, you need to stop taking it. I can't stand you when you're on it!" For fuck's sake, have a go at me after we win. Right now, we don't have the time to be bickering like this.

"Daphne, if you can't stand me on this potion, then please go make yourself useful somewhere else," Ron requested calmly. "Go on, you need to talk to the second years. You can also tell Mills to take a break if she needs it."

"You're such an arsehole," Daphne shook her head in disbelief, leaving with a perfectly controlled expression. Ah, of course I am… It's not like you will benefit immensely from this, right? I'm pretty much making you lot royalty within this House, but no, I'm an arsehole… And Mills needed to hear the truth about her parents; it was going to happen eventually.

Ron spent some time thinking about what to say to his House-mates, he needed to show them what life under Flint's rule would be like. If only we didn't need someone in charge… Slytherin's success depends on us all working together as a fraternity, but under someone like Flint, who thinks that he's better than everyone; there can be no success. I should use our mutual love of winning to my advantage-

"So, you're really back, then?" came a fake chuckle from behind him, and Ron quietly turned around. Now what?

Cassius Warrington, Miles Bletchley, Graham Montague, Lucian Bole, Peregrine Derrick, Adrian Pucey, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle had blocked the exit, all of them smirking and leering at Ron. Keep your hand on your wand, Ron, just in case. Ron subtly put his right hand in his pocket, gripping his wand tightly.

"I'm not really back," Ron told them, keeping his voice calm and steady. "I just remembered that I left a chore unfinished, so I'm here to take care of that."

"What chore?" Montague asked, smirking at his mates.

"Taking out the rubbish," Ron replied, scanning each of them. What makes them target other students? Do they just enjoy causing misery? These fucks will all grow up to become the Dark Lord's minions, I just know it.

"You've got a mouth on you, Weasley," Bole growled.

"Are you lot sure about this?" Ron asked them. "Did you miss the Duelling Tournaments? You're all bunched up, I don't even need my wand to blast through you."

"You're not going to touch us," Pucey spoke up. "Professor Snape won't let you get away with it this time around."

"And you can't touch me," Ron said. "So… Sod off."

"Shut your mouth, Weasel," Warrington pulled out his wand. Stay calm, Ron. This is a good chance to test out your suit.

"Cassius, put that away," Montague ordered. "Don't be stupid, Snape will give us month-long detentions." I reckon Professor Snape has been cracking down on the Slytherins. Good.

"Yeah, Cassius, put that away," Ron smirked, puffing up his chest. Go on, bitch, Hex me in the chest.

"Blood-Traitor," Warrington hissed, sheathing his wand. What a shame. Still… Maybe I can reason with them, they seem more in control without Flint leading them.

"I guess you lot need Flint around to start the violence, right?" Ron asked. "He's the one with the inflated ego, while the rest of you are just too stupid to realize that no one likes you in this House. None of you are respected, and I would even go as far as to say that none of you are wanted."

"You need to shut your gob," Crabbe threatened, cracking his fat knuckles. Try it, you fucking marshmallow.

"Just listen to me," Ron said calmly. "I don't want to fight with you lot, I just want to be left alone."

"Then piss off back to your fat mother," Bletchley finally spoke up, making his mates laugh. You fucking pricks.

Ron drew in a deep breath; the Calming Draught was keeping him in control. You'll get yours, Bletchley, I'm sure.

"Flint's not going to be around next year," Ron reminded them. "You still have a chance to cut ties with him, otherwise, everyone will continue to ignore you. On my mother's life, I know that you lot have something to offer the House, but all of that potential is being wasted because of Marcus Flint. He's turning you all into pariahs, and you're just letting him do it."

"We'll be running Slytherin soon enough," Warrington scoffed, and Montague smacked his arm.

"Oi, shut it," Montague hissed, shooting Ron a dangerous look. "I reckon it's time for you to sod off, Weasley. No one wants your kind around." We're both the same kind, you hairy twat.

"Then move aside," Ron said. "I need to go to the common room."

"Just piss off to Beauxbatons, freak," Goyle got his licks in. You know, that's not such a bad idea. I'm sure Beauxbatons has its own problems, but at least I'll be surrounded by gorgeous witches.

The sneering gang stepped aside, letting Ron enter the common room. Once Ron was free from his ambushers, he looked around for his friends. They were all doing their jobs, including Millie. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can all start focusing on what really matters.

Theo suddenly hurried into the common room, waving at Ron from across the room. They're coming. Get ready, Ron. Theo joined Malfoy near the first years, while Ron focused his attention towards the entrance. After a few moments, the seventh years hustled into the common room. They were all talking amongst themselves, looking rather exhausted and frustrated.

"Weasley?" Jessica Quartz spotted him first; she was at the head of the pack.

"Hello," Ron greeted them, his pale eyes already fixed on a startled Carey.

Clara and Samantha moved in to block Ron's view. Really? Don't tell me that you plan to be stupid. Samantha gave Ron a subtle nod, her expression completely indifferent. Time to get started, then.

"Are you back for good, Weasley?" Doris Goshawk asked, looking slightly uninterested.

"Not exactly," Ron replied, gesturing the Triumvirate to come forward. "The Silver Triumvirate have an announcement to make, and they asked me to be here for it."

"What bloody announcement?" Flint pushed himself through the seventh years, marching right up to Ron. "What are you doing back here, Weasel? Shouldn't you in recovery?" I ought to put you in recovery, cunt.

The rest of the student body began to gather around, all of them looking towards the singled out Silver Triumvirate. Carey cleared her throat, moving back into the middle of Clara and Samantha. Clara is looking at everything but me, while Samantha is looking at nothing but me. I'll need to talk to them before I leave.

"After much deliberation, and realizing the state of this House's unity, we, the Silver Triumvirate, have decided to abdicate our power," Carey announced, her eyes darting towards Ron.

"What are you talking about?" Jack Hughes asked. "You can't just do that!"

"What about our statuses?!" Martha Hopkirk asked.

"Is there going to be a new Triumvirate?" Septimus Smith asked. "And does that mean that new delegates will be chosen?"

"That's hardly fair," Maria Cortez sneered. "Some of us have earned our roles, and you can't just kick us out without warning."

"Who's in charge, then?" Atif asked. "Are we sixth year delegates running the House, now?" They all want a piece, don't they? Could I use this, somehow?

"We are giving our power to the only person who has earned it," Carey said smoothly, giving Ron a hesitant look. "Ronald Weasley-"

"Are you fucking joking?!" Flint barked out, while the surrounding Slytherins erupted into chatter.

Even Ron's friends were gaping at him, wondering how he had pulled this off. They'll have questions, but I'm just going to ignore said questions.

"He's a fucking third year," Jack Hughes laughed, while Atif and Maria frowned at Ron. I have the first, second, and third years voting for me, maybe even some of the fourth years… Why shouldn't I allow nominations? It'll split up the votes of the older students, most of whom will nominate themselves.

"Is this some joke?" Peregrine Derrick asked.

"You can't be serious about this," Flint glared at the Triumvirate. "He's a fucking third year, and you want to hand him your power? You can't just throw away our traditions like this! The Silver Triumvirate has always been at the head of Slytherin, not some Blood-Traitor!" That's 'King Blood-Traitor' to you, peasant.

"You heard them, it's over," Ron spoke up, and every student above fourth year sneered at him. "I'm in charge now."

"Fuck off with that," Flint clenched his fists. "There'll be a new Silver Triumvirate, with me leading it."

"You're a leader, now, are you?" Ron asked dully. "What'll be your first policy? No tattling?"

"Piss off, Weasley, I'd rather let this troll take charge than be bossed around by you," Jack Hughes hissed. "We sixth year delegates will be the stand-in Silver Triumvirate, and next year, we'll be the official Silver Triumvirate." You can kiss my freckled arse, bitch; I'm not spending another year under anyone's heel.

"Shouldn't the replacement come from the seventh years if you plan to keep the Silver Triumvirate in charge?" Ron asked, looking towards Jessica Quartz. C'mon, take the bait. Put yourself in the race, and make my life easier.

"He's right," Jessica slowly stepped forward. "If Carey, Clara, and Samantha can't handle their duties, then it's up to us seventh years to elect a new Silver Triumvirate."

"There's no election!" Flint snapped. "I'm in charge of this House!" You're leaving in a few months, cunt, why are you so hell-bent on this? You really want to abuse a bunch of children that badly? What the fuck?

"Carey has already given me power, and so, nothing any of you say actually matters," Ron decided to press on, ignoring the insults and jeers. "However, I don't want us to fight, so I'm willing to compromise! Are you interested now?!"

"I'll knock you on your arse again, Weasley," Flint marched up, grabbing Ron by the collar. Cutis Terra!

"What is the meaning behind this commotion?" came Snape's icy voice, and the entire common room went dead silent.

Ron quickly undid the Spell on himself, while Flint took a long step away from Ron. Snape moved methodically through the common room, his eye traveling between the frightened faces of his charges.

"Am I to repeat myself?" Snape looked towards Carey, stopping in the middle of the common room.

"My fellow Triumvirate members and I have decided to focus on our studies rather than our duties, and so, we have bestowed our power onto Ronald Weasley, Sir," Carey reported, the words tasted like ash in her mouth.

"Is that so?" Snape shot a quick look at Ron. "Then what is the reason behind this commotion? They have the right to elect their successors, or, in this case, successor."

"Sir, Weasley is only in third year," Maria Cortez pointed out.

"This is unheard of!" Atif called out. "What about us?! We earned the right to be delegates! We're next in line for the Silver Triumvirate!"

"Shouldn't my merit be the thing that counts, not my year?" Ron asked his House-mates. "In my first year, I was the reason why Slytherin managed to snag a seven year victory streak. This year, I've worked with the first years, and through them, I've put us miles ahead of the other Houses."

"That wasn't your idea!" Flint cut in. "Those three came up with the idea!"

"And yet, I'm the one who worked with the first years," Ron countered. "My friends and I spent our spare time helping the second years, and they won their year-based Duelling Tournament as a result. I went out of my way to train with the fourth years, who also won their year-based Duelling Tournament. I even lent a very expensive piece of equipment to Slytherin, my P-12 Auror Trainer. All of you trained against it, benefitting from my generosity, and in the end, only the fifth years lost their year-based Duelling Tournament."

Everyone looked to the fifth years, and most of them shrunk in their spots. I need to keep them focused on me.

"Five hundred House Points in one day, that's what we achieved with me in charge," Ron reminded everyone.

"You were never in charge," Flint puffed up.

"My equipment and my strategies… Sorry, but I was definitely in charge," Ron said, looking towards Snape. "Sir? What's your say in this matter?"

Every head turned towards Snape, who just kept his gaze fixed on Ron. C'mon, Sir, just say the words already.

"The Silver Triumvirate has spoken, Mr. Weasley will now answer only to me," Snape turned to leave.

"I don't want anyone to say that I took power by force!" Ron yelled over the discontent chatter.

Snape stopped, turning around with a semi-bored look.

"I propose that we have a vote," Ron said. "And anyone can nominate themselves."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose; he knew that he was going to be asked to overlook this 'election'. Ron looked around the common room, easily noticing the greedy glints in the eyes of the older students.

"Let's get some parchment, write down the names of the nominees, and then have an official vote," Ron smiled at Snape. "Professor Snape will oversee the whole affair."

Snape narrowed his eye on Ron, but he didn't refuse Ron's request. Time to beg the first, second, and fourth years for their help.

"Bring me parchment, and move that table into the centre," Snape ordered, and the whole House moved into action.

---

Thirty Minutes Later

The first and second years had immediately promised to vote for him, much to Ron's relief. Pansy and Blaise had then delivered the votes of Barbara Miller, Susan Wiltshire, Bartholomew Greene, and Madeline Croxley, which added to the rest, put Ron at a sizable lead.

This didn't bode well for the older students, most of who had elected themselves or their closest mates. As far as Ron knew, there were over ten candidates running. This included Flint, Jessica Quartz, Doris Goshawk, Atif Aslam, Jack Hughes, Maria Cortez, and Septimus Smith.

Ron was rather pleased with himself for thinking of such an effective method to weaken his rivals, and this only served to prove to him that he was at his best when he was on the Calming Draught. Without the potion's influence, Ron couldn't even stand near his first years, but with it empowering him, he was manipulating the entire House into electing him through an 'official' election. I'm sure some people have caught on, but no one has said a word about it so far. Most will consider my call for an election a rather benevolent move, which should earn me a lot of goodwill.

"The votes have been counted," Snape announced, looking towards Ron. "Ronald Weasley wins, twenty-eight votes, the highest amounts of votes given to a single nominee. From today onwards, he will answer only to me. All of the Silver Triumvirate's responsibilities now rest on his shoulders. Until I say otherwise, he will keep his status as-"

"A bloody dictator!" Maria Cortez yelled, stirring some of the defeated older students.

"Enough!" Snape's voice suddenly boomed, silencing everyone. Bloody hell, he never yells like that. Is his leg bothering him?

Snape then quietly looked at each and every student, putting the fear of the Gods in their souls. This man has reached his limit… I should probably sneak out through the Headmaster's Office after this.

"Ronald won through an election," Snape spoke sharply. "The larger part of your House-mates voted for him. This matter is now closed. Return to your studies, all of you have homework to do."

"Sir, may I say something?" Ron put his hand up, and Snape drew in a sharp breath. "I have some ground rules that I want to establish as quickly as possible, and I'd like you to make them official."

"Go on," Snape whispered icily.

"Firstly, I want to elect Carey Ductu, Clara Martyris, and Samantha Selwyn as the delegates of the seventh years. The rest stays the same."

"You're letting us remain delegates of sixth year?" Hughes asked with narrowed eyes.

"Yes," Ron replied. "Does that sooth your anger a little? I hope so. I've done everything fairly, and I'm still willing to look past your views of me. Will you behave yourself?"

Hughes grit his teeth, glaring at an uncaring Snape.

"Fine…" Hughes couldn't hold Snape's gaze for long.

"This leads me into my second rule," Ron carried on. "Acts of bullying will be punished severely. After all, we can't afford to lose any House Points. It might give the other Houses some hope." Ron then looked to Flint. "No more ambushing students, no more extortion, no more name-calling, no more Blood-Status remarks, nothing. Behave yourself, or Professor Snape will have you locked away in detention until you graduate."

Flint looked ready to take a swing at Ron, and Montague had to keep him in check. Ugly prick.

"Lastly, I want everyone to focus on their studies and training," Ron said. "The Rank-based Tournament is still on, I'm sure, so let's keep our momentum going. I want us to dominate every Rank." And in the process, show the Order our worth. "Now, until I return, everyone will answer to Daphne Greengrass. Whatever she says comes directly from me."

Ron then looked to Snape, who gave Ron a quick nod.

"Get ready for dinner," Snape told everyone. "And clean up this common room. Have some respect for your surroundings. Lazy buffoons." Other than the table in the middle, this place is spotless… Wow.

Snape limped away with that, a cold sneer warding off anyone in his way. The House erupted into chatter, with Flint yelling at everyone to 'uphold Slytherin's traditions'. The former Silver Triumvirate quietly slipped away, but Ron managed to spot them ducking into the girls' dorms. I need to speak with them.

"Clever move, mate," Theo patted Ron on the back, making Ron tense up and clench his fists. "Woah… Sorry, Ron… I thought I held back."

"Just… Don't touch me, please," Ron shuddered. "And don't sneak up on me like that." I nearly thought about swinging at you. I really need to calm the fuck down.

"Won't happen again," Theo promised. "Anyway, I was congratulating you on that stellar move. Glad that you caught on as well." As well?

"Ron, smart thinking with the nominations," Pansy walked over, the rest were right behind her. "I was thinking the same when everyone started calling out for their shares."

Ron's friends all nodded at each, with the exception of Millie.

"Wait… You were all thinking that?" Ron asked. I thought I was really clever just then.

"I think everyone caught onto that," Blaise said offhandedly. Fuck. Whatever, we still won. My friends can have peace now, and I will keep Slytherin in line personally. Plus, with Professor Snape backing me so openly, I'm untouchable. He may have lost his cover as a spy, but now he can focus on turning the students of Slytherin against the Dark Lord.

"Ron? Are you there?" Theo called out, and Ron returned to reality.

"Sorry, I was enjoying the win," Ron said. "Good job, everyone. You all did great work, especially Pansy and Blaise. From now on, just keep your eyes fixed on Flint's lot. Anytime they step out of line, have Professor Snape punish them immediately. Daphne, I'll send you letters whenever I want something implemented. Other than that, run the House as you please."

"I understand," Daphne said, staring at Ron with an indifferent look. C'mon, give me fucking break, will you? I just made you the Queen of Slytherin. What more do you want?

"I think some people want to shower you with praise, Weasley," Malfoy said in a bored tone, pointing towards the first and second years. "I guess we can expect you back in a few hours? Your ego will take a while to get polished, considering its size."

"Did I do something to you, Malfoy?" Ron asked. He's been sassing me all evening.

"No," Malfoy replied.

"Ah, so you're just a cunt," Ron nodded to himself, and Malfoy shrugged before walking off towards the fireplace.

"Prick," Pansy rolled her eyes, and then she shot Ron a weak smile. "Congratulations, Ron." She's also unhappy with me. Honestly, Mills needs to know about her parents, or she'll end up just like them… Serving a genocidal loon.

---

Twenty Minutes Later

Ron knocked on the Triumvirate's door, he had finally managed to escape the suggestion-boxes that were the first and second years. Each of them had their own bizarre plans… Tori wanted a bloody free pass to make trouble for everyone.

"Who is it?" came Clara's voice.

"It's me," Ron said, and after a few seconds, the door swung open.

"What do you want?" Clara asked coldly.

"Can I come in?" Ron asked. "I want to talk."

"After what you did to Carey, we have nothing to discuss with you," Clara began to shut the door.

"Clara, let him in," Samantha said, and Clara stopped right before locking Ron out.

"Sammy, no," Clara whispered, but Ron easily overheard her. Ouch.

"He'll just kick the door in," Samantha sounded tired. I really will. "Let him in."

Clara left the door mostly closed, and Ron had to help himself in. Samantha was leaning against her bedpost, while Clara was glaring at him from the middle of the room. No Carey. She must be in the bathroom, then.

"Why are you here?" Samantha asked, keeping her voice civil. "What more do you want to take from us?"

"It's a made-up position at school," Ron groaned, why were Slytherins so fixed on hierarchies? "I've given you three a place amongst the Order, which in turn means protection for you and your families. Isn't that more important?"

"We spent years preparing ourselves to become the Silver Triumvirate," Clara muttered under her breath, and Ron finally noticed that she was teary-eyed. Is she upset? Is she angry? Is she both? I'll have Daphne keep her eyes on Clara, that's for certain. "That shared goal brought us together, and it kept us together despite all the obstacles we faced… But now, you've ruined everything… Everyone will remember us as the Silver Triumvirate that handed the House to a dictator." A dictator? Really? I don't have any real authority over anyone. I'm just playing by your bloody rules.

"Grow up," Ron felt zero sympathy for Clara. "Where is Carey?"

"She's in the bathroom," Samantha replied. "It's best that she doesn't see you, Weasley. She's been trembling all day."

"You could have killed her," Clara hissed, looking murderous.

"Are you done?" Ron gave Clara a blank look. "Your job now is to push for House Unity, and I want you to start impressing the Order. The next time Professor Snape goes to a meeting, he'll take you three with him. Show the Order that Slytherin deserves to be recruited from. Show them that we're not 'Death-Eaters' in training. If you want to prove yourselves, then do it in something that actually matters."

"Oh, and I want you three running my study group while I'm away," Ron added. "Take every Slytherin below fifth year with you and make sure that the other Houses catch word of it. I don't have time to re-establish it, so I'll be taking over once I'm back."

"Whatever…" Clara sniffled loudly, storming over to her trunk and yanking it open. She nearly ripped her trunk in two.

"Clara…" Samantha sighed out. "Don't do this now, please." Don't do what?

"Get out," Clara glared at Ron, large tears rolling down her cheeks. What's this? She's crying? Why? "Get out! I never want to see you again!" Woah.

"Leave, Weasley," Samantha walked over to Clara, taking the upset girl's hand and whispering something in her ear.

Clara maintained her glare, while Ron just kept his blank expression. I've clearly overstayed my welcome. As long as they do their jobs, I'll leave them alone.

"Professor Snape will be reminding you of your duties," Ron turned around and left, closing the door behind him.

He had no idea that Clara was so emotional, nor did he expect her to react in such a hostile manner. She does love her friends, and I tossed one of them off of a cliff. I suppose her anger isn't unwarranted, but to start crying? To look that pissed off? Something's off here.

Ron suddenly heard something shatter within the Triumvirate's room, was Clara throwing furniture around? She did attack her trunk. Best that I leave quickly, I reckon.

Ron headed straight for the common room, finding Blaise waiting for him at the entrance of girls' dorms. He had an indifferent look about him, as usual, however, Ron could see that he was bothered. His eyes were darting around in deep thought and he wasn't paying any attention to his surroundings, which was very unlike Blaise.

"Hello," Ron greeted, and Blaise broke out of his thoughts.

"Are you done with the seventh year delegates?" Blaise asked. The seventh year delegates? Guess Blaise is quick to move on.

"Yes," Ron studied his friend.

"Stop looking me at like that," Blaise began walking towards the boys' room, and Ron quietly followed after him. "Now that we're done with this House business, I'd like to talk about something that matters."

"Your mother," Ron said.

"Ron, she's caught onto me," Blaise suddenly turned around and put his hand on Ron's shoulder, stopping them both. "Lord De Luca never returned my first letter, and after Tracey, I couldn't sit still… I've been sending copies of the original letter to him every day, but he hasn't responded to any of them."

"Which means that your mother has been intercepting the letters," Ron figured.

"I'm dead…" Blaise muttered under his breath, his hand dropping from Ron's shoulder. "I'm actually dead."

"Don't think like that," Ron said, trying to think of a solution. "When's the next time that you're supposed to see her?"

"Easter Break," Blaise replied.

"Well, talk yourself out of it," Ron started. "You'll spend Easter Break with me, all right? For now, stop sending the letters-"

"What about Lord De Luca?" Blaise asked. "I can't just ignore him, you said so yourself."

"We'll need to find some other way to contact him," Ron replied, and Blaise looked a little relieved. "Give me some time, I'll try to find out what Lord De Luca is up to, and then, we can try to contact him directly. If he hears the warning from you personally, he may believe the truth about your mother."

"I'm not sure about making a personal appearance, but at this point, it might be the only way to save him," Blaise sighed out, rubbing his forehead.

"Are you okay, mate?" Ron asked, noticing that Blaise's cheeks looked thinner.

"No…" Blaise replied honestly, clearing his throat and fixing his posture. "I'm not used to worrying over someone else's life. I wasn't built for it."

"You're nothing like Clementine Zabini," Ron said once again.

"I know," Blaise gave a short nod. "Just keep me in the loop, and for Merlin's sake, return my letters."

"About that," Ron began walking again. "I'm actually staying with Lord and Lady Greengrass, and just today, they put up the Fidelius Charm on their property."

Blaise adorned a thoughtful look, and after a moment, he gave Ron a confirming nod.

"I can't remember where they live," Blaise told Ron. "I can't even remember visiting them."

"Same," Ron said. "They're picking me up before dinner, and I'm planning to take Helios with me. Once he's seen the property, we can use him to keep in contact."

"Send him as quickly as you can," Blaise said. "If my mother did intercept my letters, then I'm in a lot of trouble."

"Would she hurt you?" Ron asked.

"Maybe…" Blaise replied unsurely. "She's always neglected me, but she's never once raised a hand against me. Not even spankings as a toddler. She's just indifferent, so I can't be sure about how far she'll go to discipline me."

"Well, either way, try to stay away from her," Ron advised. "Let's keep our focus on saving Lord De Luca."

"Agreed," Blaise said, looking a little more like his usual self again.

Ron opened the door to their room and led the way inside, but he was quickly cornered Theo and Malfoy. Were they waiting at the door for me? Why?

"You might want to leave, Weasley," Malfoy said.

Ron cocked an eyebrow, looking past Theo and Malfoy. Pansy and Daphne are right over there, but where's Mills?

"Daphne wants to have a word with you," Theo told him. "And by a word, I mean that she wants to have a go. What did you say to Millie, Ron?"

"Where is she?" Ron asked coolly.

"She went to bed early," Theo replied. "She was really quiet, something was definitely bothering her. So? What did you say?"

"If Mills wants to tell you, then she will," Ron said, moving past the lads. "Daphne?"

Daphne and Pansy stopped their conversation, both of them looking over to Ron. Daphne immediately morphed into the Ice-Queen, while Pansy shot him another unsure smile.

"I'm going to go talk to Millie," Pansy said awkwardly, taking small steps away from her friends. "I'm really glad to see you up and about, Ron."

"It was good to see you as well, Pans," Ron said, and Pansy took that as permission to leave. Why was she being so awkward? Is Daphne really that upset about Millie knowing the truth? I mean, Pansy doesn't seem pleased either, but then again, she's not as confrontational as Daphne.

The door closed behind him, signalling that his friends had left him to fend for himself. Yeah… I'm not really in the mood for this. I reckon I'll just go-

"She's going to bed without dinner," Daphne broke the silence. "You promised that you wouldn't tell her, Ron-"

"I don't care," Ron shrugged, and Daphne blinked at him. "This had to be done, for her own sake."

"Pardon?" Daphne's left eye twitched.

"Even after what happened to Tracey, you lot are still unclear about what's coming," Ron pointed out. "What would come from me not telling Millie the truth? I'll tell you, Daphne. She would continue to see her parents as perfect, moral citizens, but then, one day, they would deliver her to the Dark Lord. Now, I love Mills, but she's not capable of resisting You-Know-Who. Our friend would be branded against her will, and then she would be forced to take up arms against people like Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, Madam Jane Roberts, Gawain Robards, or even Albus Dumbledore himself. How do you think that story ends?"

"I can understand that," Daphne said, keeping her tone in check. "But to just drop this on her out of the blue? Without any preparation or plan? It was downright cruel, and you don't even seem to care about how hurt and confused she is. That's the worst part, Ron… You literally do not care right now, do you?"

"If I could, I'm sure I would be guilt-ridden," Ron said, and Daphne drew in a deep breath before heading towards the door. That's it? Really?

"She wants to see the proof tomorrow," Daphne said before leaving.

"That's it, then?" Ron asked.

"What's the point in wasting my breath, Ron?" Daphne asked, giving him an indifferent look. "Like you just said, you don't care. Send my regards to my parents."

---

Sirius Black's POV

Tuesday 9th February, 1994 (Twelve Grimmauld Place – Nearly Dinnertime)

"Nothing feels the same ever since the raid," Tonks said just as Sirius handed her another glass of Firewhiskey. "And they put me on the Diagon Alley patrol, Sirius… Can you believe that? Every single day, I have to stare at those poor people, and I can't help but feel terrible."

"You were just doing your job, Tonks," Sirius sat down on the sofa, his own glass in hand. "You saved lives-"

"I also killed three Vampires," Tonks stated.

"In the line of duty," Sirius tried again. "Those crazy bastards were attacking civilians, you had no choice."

"One of them was running away from me, she didn't even have a wand, but in the heat of the moment, I blew her apart with Confringo…" Tonks finished weakly, downing her glass.

"Ease up there," Sirius suggested. "I'd rather not send you home to Andromeda drunk, she'll have my hide."

"Ugh… Mum and dad…" Tonks continued. "They're not letting me breathe, cousin. Every time I step into the house, they start following me around. Dad won't let me do any of my own chores, and mum keeps trying to 'open me up'. It's fucking awful…"

"Let me guess," Sirius took a sip. "You want to start living here."

"Not permanently," Tonks sighed out. "Just for a couple of nights." Shit, now what?

"Your mother-"

"Forget her, aren't we mates?" Tonks asked; her mousy-brown hair became an insecure shade of yellow.

"Oi, stop that," Sirius clicked his tongue. "I'm not falling for it."

"Please?" Tonks persisted. "I just want wipe my own arse for a change, cousin…"

"That wasn't a very Ladylike thing to say, Nymphadora," Sirius teased, and Tonks snorted.

"Piss off," Tonks laughed, but then she suddenly stopped. "I shouldn't be laughing…"

"Why not?" Sirius asked, regaining himself.

"Because Tommy Garfield, Barbara Hayden, Georgia Lancaster, and Isaac Clarke just died… Tommy and Georgia were in my year, they were from Gryffindor," Tonks replied distantly. "We started together, ate together, trained together, took beatings together, got drunk together, watched each other's backs in the field… I don't know why, but I just figured that nothing would change. At least, not for a long while…"

"Listen to me, Tonks," Sirius decided to open up a little for Tonks' sake. "During the Great War, I joined the Order through my best mate, James Potter-"

"Harry's dad," Tonks gave a sorry smile. Gods, I miss him.

"Yeah," Sirius went on. "James, Peter, and Remus were invited into the Order by Dumbledore, but I wasn't." After my stunt with Snape and Remus, Dumbledore never really took to me.

"Really?"

"It's true," Sirius shrugged. "I was a troublemaker, and Dumbledore, being the conniving old man that he is, decided that I was more trouble than I was worth. It didn't stop me, of course, I went out into the field with James, at his invitation, and from there, he brought me straight into the Orders' Headquarters. He got a tongue-lashing from Moody, angry glares from the older members, and even Dumbledore was disappointed. James still stuck by me, and together, we four got the chance to be a team again." We thought that we were going to destroy the Dark Lord ourselves. The Marauders vs. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, it was going to be the most spectacular Duel in Wizarding History.

Sirius then let out a long breath; he was always left exhausted whenever he thought of his younger years. All of those memories felt like they had happened to someone else, someone that hadn't spent a decade in Azkaban.

"My point is, now that James is gone, there are times when I can't bring myself to think about anything else," Sirius said. "It feels wrong to move on with my life knowing that he won't get a chance to do the same. It's the worst sort of feeling, isn't it?"

Tonks gave a tired nod, pinching her eyes in order to block her tear ducts. Gods damn you, Fudge, you fat prick.

"You need some time to think, Tonks," Sirius said comfortingly. "You need to understand that your friends knew the risks of their jobs."

"Madam Roberts said the same thing," Tonks gave a weak nod, massaging her eyes. "Can I stay the night? Please?"

"Sure," Sirius couldn't bring himself to refuse. "I'll talk to your mother after dinner, yeah?"

"Thanks," Tonks said gratefully. "I'll cook you something in return, huh? I think that's fair."

"Quite fair," Sirius accepted the deal. "I'm quite famished already, so…"

"Wow," Tonks' lips quirked upwards. "Can't wait to put me to work?"

"I'm hungry, and you offered to cook something-" Sirius started, but the roar of the fireplace cut him off.

Ron stepped into the Living Room, a body hanging off of his right shoulder and an Eagle Owl perched on his left forearm. What the fuck? Who is he carrying? Sirius eyeballed the wooden body, was Ron carrying around a Magical Dummy?

"Is that the P-12 Auror Trainer?" Tonks narrowed her eyes on Ron.

"Hello," Ron greeted them in his usual manner.

Sirius and Tonks watched quietly as Ron walked over to a couch, tossing the P-12 carelessly onto it. Helios took off at the sound of the clattering dummy, perching himself on top of Sirius' armrest.

"Helios," Sirius smiled at Helios, scratching the owl's feathers.

While Ron made himself comfortable on a nearby sofa, Sirius subtly studied the young wizard. I couldn't hear them because of the Silencing Charm, but I know that Ron was with Emilia in The Leaky Cauldron. I know both of their scents, and since the pub isn't warded to hide smells, I know that I'm dead right. Why were you with her, kid? She's a lunatic! What's going on in that head of yours? What are you up to?

"Sirius," Tonks whispered, giving him a curious look. She caught me staring?

"Ahem," Sirius cleared his throat, catching Ron's attention. Has he forgotten the tongue-lashing he gave me? Honestly, he wasn't completely wrong in what he said, but by Merlin, this kid needs to take a class in manners.

"What is it, Sirius?" Ron asked, his voice almost pleasant.

'Tonks asked you a question, kid," Sirius looked to Tonks.

"She did?" Ron asked, and then he turned his gaze towards Tonks. "I'm sorry. Can you repeat the question?"

"I asked you if that was a P-12, but then I had a proper look, and got the answer," Tonks said. "Mind telling me why you have such a dangerous piece of equipment in your possession, Ron?" Auror Tonks? "Most people don't even know that you can order one of these-"

"Madam Roberts told me about them," Ron cut in. "My friends got this one for me for Christmas, I can get you a receipt from them if you want."

"I was only pulling your leg, Ron," Tonks chuckled a little, shooting a quick look at Sirius. He took her seriously? "So? How do you fare against it? Don't lie, I'll know."

"It depends," Ron started. "If I use Wandless Magic, I can overpower it quite easily. But if I'm just using my wand, I lose more often than I win."

"You can overpower the P-12?" Tonks asked, looking quite surprised. "Really?"

"When I use Wandless Magic, yes," Ron replied in a monotone. Is he on something? He's acting off.

"Blimey, that's brilliant!" Tonks looked to Sirius. "That thing still gives me trouble, and Ron here can overpower it. I guess being a prodigy isn't a joke, huh?"

"I'm not really a prodigy," Ron said distantly.

"Kid, just consider the things you've done," Sirius spoke up. "Even if you're not a prodigy, you're still one tough bastard. That counts for something, doesn't it?"

"I guess it does," Ron gave Sirius a quick smile. He's not angry with me?

"Ron, not that this is any of my business, but are you on a potion?" Sirius asked. "You're acting different." Please don't yell at me in front of my cousin.

"I'm on a Calming Draught," Ron admitted. "Ever since Tracey got hurt, I can't keep my focus on anything. Everything sets off my anxiety. So, I've been taking Calming Draughts to function properly." For the love of Circe's twat! This reckless, stubborn brat is going to send me to an early grave!

"Ron, you can't be drinking those every day," Sirius said sternly.

"Seconded," Tonks gave a firm nod. "Those things can make you dependant on them, which will ruin your life. Please, don't go down that road. So many Aurors lost their jobs at the end of the Great War because they couldn't operate without the Calming Draught."

"Do your parents know about this?" Sirius asked, and Ron just stared at him. Oh, shit, why did I mention his parents? Molly and Arthur told me how strained their relationship has become. Damn… There is a lot of pain in this room.

"My parents don't know, and I'd like to keep it that way," Ron said eventually. "As for having one every day, I plan to stop doing that. I just needed one today because I had to go back to Hogwarts." He came here from Hogwarts?

"What were you doing there?" Sirius asked.

"Sorting out some Slytherin business," Ron said elusively. "Can't really discuss it with you."

"Slytherins…" Tonks whispered to Sirius, rolling her eyes. They're a secretive lot, that's for certain.

"Did you see your siblings?" Sirius asked. "How're Fred and George? The scoundrels."

"I didn't see them," Ron shrugged. "I plan to do that tomorrow."

"You have to go back?" Sirius asked. Why?

"Am I being interrogated?" Ron asked. "Why are you asking so many questions, Sirius?"

"Oh, I'm just curious about what you get up to," Sirius admitted, he wasn't going to back down as easily this time. Why were you meeting with Emilia? What sort of business could you have with her type?

"Just leave me alone, please," Ron looked away towards the fireplace, seemingly cutting himself out of the conversation. "I'm sick of being hounded by everyone." Hounded? Funny choice of words.

Tonks shot Sirius another curious look, and Sirius simply shook his head. This is a person who cannot turn off his brain, not even for a damn second. Poor bastard is a prisoner of his own mind.

The fireplace suddenly roared to life, and Sebastian Greengrass marched into Grimmauld Place liked he owned it. The tall wizard immediately looked to Sirius, expectation written all over his face. It's as if my father's ghost is haunting me. Fuck you, dad, you pompous wanker.

"He's over there," Sirius gestured, and Seb looked to Ron.

"Are you ready, Ron?" Seb asked, while Ron collected his dummy and pet owl.

"I'm ready, my Lord," Ron said, struggling to settle Helios down for floo travel.

Sirius looked between Seb and Ron, and he couldn't help but feel sympathy for Arthur. Maybe Ron was just more like Seb, and as a result, their relationship was profound and meaningful? Whereas when I think of Arthur, Ron is the furthest thing from my mind. He's just not like his father, which is a real shame for them both.

"It was nice seeing you again," Tonks waved Ron off.

"It was to see you too," Ron said, giving Tonks a parting nod.

Seb muttered the destination of his home, which Sirius could no longer recall, and as soon as the flames turned green, Seb led Ron through the fire. With both wizards gone, Sirius turned his attention back to Tonks.

"He's a weird kid," Tonks pointed out. "And I mean very weird."

"Stop that," Sirius felt a pang of annoyance. "The shit he's been through… No one should have to endure it, all right? Don't talk about him like that."

"The shit he's been through?" Tonks asked curiously.

"I'm not telling you anything," Sirius said bluntly, and Tonks let out a groan. "Now, about my dinner…"

"Fine, fine… I'm going," Tonks stood up, shooting him a smile. "Thanks for everything, Sirius. You're the best."

Tonks left for the kitchen, leaving Sirius alone to his thoughts. I need to find out what sort of business Ron has with Emilia. If she's involved, it can't be anything good. Fucking hell, kid… What have you gotten yourself into this time?

---

Lucius Malfoy's POV

Tuesday 9th February, 1994 (Yaxley Manor – After Dinner)

Why was the Dark Lord not summoning Corban?

Lucius tightened his grip around his walking stick, ignoring the chatter around him. Corban had hosted a dinner, bringing together only select few Pure-Bloods. Lucius already knew what Corban wanted from his guests, and truth be told, Lucius was beginning to worry about his own status.

Corban was growing more powerful by the day, and it wouldn't be long before he would attempt to usurp Lucius. I had all of these fools eating out of my hand, but the Dark Lord ruined everything with his unfortunate return. Lucius exhaled sharply, feeling even more on edge than usual. I should retire to my room; there is no reason for me to be here.

"Lucius, that is you!" George Selwyn suddenly crossed Lucius' path, forcing the platinum-blonde wizard to come to an abrupt stop. Did he just cut me off?

"George," Lucius kept his composure, scanning the older wizard. He's been drinking; I can see it all over his face.

"I saw you on the dinner table, but you didn't make a sound," George chuckled, finishing off the goblet in his hand. "Very unlike you, I must say."

"You seem to be enjoying yourself, George," Lucius said nonchalantly. "But where is your lovely wife? Mina?" She's probably snuck off with another man.

George cleared his throat 'subtly', looking around for his disloyal wife. What sort of man are you?

"She's most likely talking Anastasia's ears off with tales of her latest trip to Magical Spain," George said dismissively. Pathetic. "You know how women are, don't you?" My woman is nothing like yours.

"Of course," Lucius gave a cold smile. "Now, if you will excuse me-"

"Have you run into Arcturus? He's here with his wife, Alicia," George spoke over Lucius. "They just returned from the States, Arcturus is investing heavily in the growing Firewhiskey market there and is bound to make a large fortune."

"Corban invited Arcturus, but not the Carrow Twins?" Lucius asked. Strange… Amycus and Alecto are deranged morons, which makes them very easy to manipulate, whereas Arcturus is the proven Head of the Carrow Family, which makes him difficult to manipulate. Why would Corban invite Arcturus over the twins?

"Personally, I'm very glad about that choice," George admitted. "The twins are degenerates, there's no one who can argue that. They've got bad blood running through their veins-"

"Save your rant, please," Lucius cut in. "Drink some water and sit down, George, a man your age shouldn't drink like a sailor."

Lucius moved past George, relishing the frown on the older wizard's face. A Selwyn cutting off a Malfoy… Everything has gone to the dogs.

Lucius walked through the ballroom, recognising all of his fellow guests at a glance. Corban never invites any new Blood, which is why his dinner parties are considered so dull.

"Lucius?" Corban was suddenly on Lucius' left. "Where are you going, my friend?"

"To my room," Lucius replied, coming to a stop.

Corban looked almost regal tonight, no doubt a direct result of his inflated sense of importance. The Head of the Yaxley Family stood clad in brilliant, white, Wizarding robes; the smooth satin material was long and loose, giving him the likeness of a bishop.

"I still need you here," Corban said, and Lucius fought the urge to frown. "I'm about to give a small speech and I'd like you to stand beside me, it'll be a nice showing of our alliance."

"And it will no doubt influence your guests to dance to your tune," Lucius said bluntly.

"You had this power once, Lucius," Corban reminded him. "You made yourself invaluable to Fudge, which in turn made you the most influential Lord in England." Corban then took a step forward. "Fudge is finished now, which means that you no longer have a Minister for Magic on your payroll. You're no longer untouchable, Lucius, and plenty of people in this very room hold grudges against you. You need to do as I say, or I'll stand idly by as they all come after you."

"You think I can't put them in their places again?" Lucius asked. "The Dark Lord might favour you, Corban, but he does not favour your guests. I could have them all wiped away from the face of the Earth, if I wanted it."

"You would attack your own?" Corban didn't look pleased.

"My own are imprisoned by the Order," Lucius replied venomously.

"You are being difficult," Corban said. "We had an agreement, and you will not cheat me, my slippery friend. I will urge the Dark Lord to reconsider your place amongst his inner circle, but only if you help me unite the proper Old Families under me." He wants me to forge his crown?

Lucius thought about his wife and son, and within a heartbeat, he knew what he had to do. He had to compromise himself, even at the risk of losing his reputation. Nothing was more important to him than Narcissa and Draco.

Not even his Malfoy pride.

"Lead the way," Lucius whispered coldly, keeping his head held high.

Corban smirked a little, leading the way towards the centre of the ballroom. Lucius followed quietly, ignoring the looks of his fellow Pure-Bloods. Most of them hadn't seen much of him since the Dark Lord had returned to ruin his life, and his gaunt, stressed appearance was making him stand out even more. There would be rumours soon, and after that, Lucius' reputation would start deteriorating. As long as I save Narcissa and Draco, it'll all be worth it.

"May I have your attention?" Corban spoke up, silencing the ballroom.

Lucius moved in to stand beside Corban as an equal, but Felix Rosier quickly occupied Corban's other side, making Corban the central figure. Lucius shot a quick look at the whelp, only to find Rosier matching his gaze. Disgusting deviant. To think that the Rosier Family will end because of this degenerate's perversions.

"My esteemed friends," Corban addressed his guests. "I am heartened to see us all together once again. Bulstrode, Carrow, Goyle, Crabbe, Avery, Rowle, Selwyn, Parkinson, Flint, Nott, Rosier, Malfoy, and Yaxley: the greatest of the Old Families and the rightful rulers of Magical England!"

"Hear, hear!" Rowle roared, making the others applaud and cheer.

"Yes, only we have the right to rule this beautiful country," Corban smiled, gesturing everyone to quiet down. "We were the ones who nurtured this wild land into becoming the envy of the Wizarding World. It belongs to us because we have always protected it. All manner of beasts have tried to lay claim to this land, but the Wizards of Old, our ancestors, proved their claim as the strongest and truest."

A few more guests clapped, just eating up Corban's honeyed words. He's making them believe that they were actually there, doing the fighting themselves. Idiots.

"Now, as all of you know," Corban began, studying the crowd. "Our Lord has returned to us."

There were quiet murmurs amongst the guests, mostly prayers and praises of the Dark Lord's endless power. Lucius felt his stomach turn a little, the Dark Lord had destroyed the wonderful life Lucius had built for himself, and it wouldn't be long before everyone in this room was in the same situation as him. We had peace, and we should've done everything in our power to keep it. Now, everything will be destroyed, including my Family.

"The three Fates have given us another chance to create our Pure World, my brothers and sisters," Corban said. "We lost everything at the end of the Great War, but through years of effort and careful planning, we have all found ourselves serving our Lord again. This time, we will succeed!"

Rowle let out another drunk roar, while the rest nodded their agreements and discussed their options amongst each other.

Lucius found himself remembering the first time he himself had learned of the Dark Lord's role in securing the Pure World. It was just like this… A dinner party hosted by father, and at the end of it, he gave a rousing speech about the Pure World. The Dark Lord was supposed to be our secret weapon at the time, just a powerful fool securing victory for his puppeteers… But we were the fools. The Dark Lord cannot be controlled, nor can he be resisted. He doesn't care for the Pure World; he only cares about dominating all life.

"Our time has finally come!" Corban declared. "I have brought all of you together in order to offer you brotherhood! Together, we must become invaluable to our Lord, and in return, he will give us the world!"

"Praise the Dark Lord!" Anne Bulstrode exclaimed; her chubby cheeks flushed thanks to Ogden's Finest.

"Praise the Dark Lord!" many others chanted after her.

"We're with you, Corban!" Avery Jnr announced.

"We'll show those dirty bastards who their betters are!" Crabbe added, causing the Pure-Bloods to applaud and cheer.

"Come, let us swear allegiance to one another!" Corban beckoned. "There is only one way forward, and it leads directly to the Pure World!" It leads to your deaths… The moment I have Narcissa and Draco at my side, I'm leaving all of this behind. I have houses all over the Magical World, and even the Dark Lord can't find all of them.

---

One Hour Later

Most of the guests had left after kissing Corban's ring, and yet, Corban had insisted on keeping Lucius nearby. Lord Yaxley's arrogance knew no bounds, and he was already viewing himself as a king.

"Will you be attending your siblings' party?" Corban asked Arcturus.

"No, my wife and I have no taste for barbarism," the thin, sharp-featured man replied. "Nor do we enjoy the company that my brother and sister keep. Too many Hungarians."

"It's probably for the best, my Lord," Rosier said. "Now is not the time to hold celebrations, the Aurors are already investigating many of the Old Families."

"You speak true, young Felix," Arcturus' grey eyes spared Rosier a quick glance. "I counselled Amycus and Alecto against it, but they are difficult to control when they are excited. The Dark Lord has secured many victories very quickly, and even Albus Dumbledore was left bedridden in the process… My brother and sister never forgave the Headmaster for expelling them in their sixth year." They were caught practising the Unforgivables with an untraceable wand. They're lucky that they didn't end up in Azkaban, though truth be told, I would have liked to see that.

"None of the Lords that matter will be attending this foolish celebration, so we have little to worry about," Lucius spoke up, and Arcturus looked to him.

"Some have no choice in the matter, I hear," Arcturus said with a polite smile, he obviously knew that Lucius wasn't even invited. "I may not agree with their lifestyle, Lucius, but I'm certain that they will be careful. The Carrow Family has many homes throughout the Wizarding World, after all."

"I would still ask you to talk to them, Arcturus," Corban said. "Tell them not to bring any attention to themselves. I have attended their 'parties' in the past, and I know what sort of forbidden delights they peddle. Keep the Muggle count low, we cannot afford to make any mistakes right now."

Arcturus gave a nod, silently agreeing to play his part.

"The hour is late," Arcturus checked his pocket watch. "If you will excuse me, my Lords, I should go find my wife."

"It was good to see you again, Arcturus," Corban said, and once the thin wizard was gone, Corban looked to Rosier. "Go out of your way to make sure that none from this brotherhood attend that party, Felix. I don't want our reputation being sullied by the carelessness of the Carrow Twins."

"Yes, my Lord," Rosier gave a parting nod, leaving to go complete his duties.

"You did well tonight, Lucius," Corban said after a few quiet seconds. "Many here were inspired to see you again."

"Is that so?" Lucius asked dully. "How touching."

"I mean it," Corban turned to face Lucius. "The Malfoy Family has always been a pillar of Magical England, no one can deny that. Seeing you again has raised the morale of your fellow Pure-"

"Do you ever stop?" Lucius asked. "I know the value of my Blood, Corban, and I don't need you to remind me of it. You have your alliance and I long for my bed, goodnight."

"The Dark Lord sent me an owl this morning," Corban said, and Lucius' heart nearly stopped beating. "I have been summoned, Lucius." Why didn't he say anything during the day?!

"I upheld my end of the bargain," Lucius was quick to remind Corban.

"And I will uphold mine in return," Corban promised. "Goodnight." This is it. If I can win the Dark Lord's favour again, I can have my wife and son back. After that, I will hide my Family from the Dark Lord and the Order; I'm done fighting for the Pure World. There is no 'Pure World' without Narcissa and Draco, not for me.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Wednesday 10th February, 1994 (Hogwarts Dungeons – After Classes)

"In here should be fine," Ron gestured towards the abandoned classroom.

Millie gave him a nod, leading the way inside. Let's just hope that she believes this, because I have nothing else on Robert Bulstrode. Ron followed her inside, closing and locking the door behind him.

"You're not on the Calming Draught, are you?" Millie asked hesitantly.

"No, I don't plan to mingle today," Ron replied honestly. "I'm only here for you and my siblings, no one else."

"Right," Millie muttered under her breath, taking a seat by the window. "Well… Let's see it, then…"

"Are you sure?" Ron asked, walking over to her and pulling the file out of his coat.

"Does it matter?" Millie asked in response. "You're going to show it to me either way, right?"

"If you tell me to stop right now, I'll stop," Ron promised. "You can continue on with not making a choice, but we both know where that's going to lead."

Millie rubbed her face harshly, looking even more hesitant. I should ease up a little… I feel like I'm hurting her. Ron once again felt the need for a Calming Draught, but knowing that he wasn't going to be surrounded today helped him resist the urge.

"Show me…" Millie eventually broke her silence.

Ron moved over to her side, opening the file to the first document. She glanced over the page with a furrowed brow, trying to make sense of the numbers and names.

"Anne Bulstrode… Robert Bulstrode…" Millie mumbled, her body tensing up.

"Your father deals with the slave traders," Ron pointed his gloved finger at the man's name, visually connecting it to various locations. "Buckden Pike was his latest trade with the Goblins, he sold twenty-eight able bodied Werewolves, eighteen of which were male, and Gringotts cut almost twelve percent off of his tax. Here, look at this. The name of the Gringotts employ, Griphook, who cut the tax, is written right there. He met with your mother, and they negotiated twelve percent."

"This doesn't prove anything," Millie blurted out. Fuck! "These are just sheets of parchment, and for all I know, you could've written these up-"

"Yes, because that's what I want, right?" Ron felt his temper flare. "As soon as we lost Tracey, I got to work on forging these documents because I want to cause you even more pain."

There was a deafening silence after Ron was finished, and every second it grew longer, the more Millie began to fidget around. She wants to leave, I can tell.

"Mills, I'm sorry," Ron sighed out. "I didn't mean to get riled up so quickly, but as soon as you suggested that I wrote this up, I just couldn't keep it in. I would never do something so underhanded, Mills, you have to know that."

"I know," Millie said, nervously scratching her arm. "But, Ron, those papers prove nothing-"

"Keep looking, then," Ron turned the page. "Here, take it. Read through the whole thing and try to match the dates with any trips that your parents may have taken."

---

Twenty Minutes Later

"That's my father's signature and seal," Millie suddenly spoke up, and Ron immediately marched over to her side. "Look… Right here… He signed it and used his seal…"

Ron looked at the splayed out documents, realizing that Millie had found a copy of her father's letter to the slavers. He sold thirty Werewolves during the height of the Great War, no doubt Werewolves who resisted the Dark Lord.

"Did any dates match up in your memory? Any sudden trips?" Ron asked, and Millie gave a weak nod. Shit, she's been crying quietly.

Ron felt a strong pang of guilt; he always knew that this part was going to be a heartbreaking experience for his friends. Theo, Malfoy, Pansy, Blaise, and Millie… They have no choice but to cut themselves off from their parents, otherwise, sooner or later, they'll end up at the Dark Lord's mercy as well.

"This was sent during the Great War…" Millie's voice cracked a little. "He could've been under-"

"Neither of them were under the Imperius Curse, Mills," Ron said gently. "You already know that."

"Werewolves are dangerous… They're not even human, Ron-" Millie started, but she abruptly stopped.

"Mills…" Ron couldn't believe this. "You can't possibly believe that, can you? These are human beings that your father is trading for more lenient taxes… Who's really the dangerous one? Who's really not human?"

Millie looked down at her lap, her eyes scrunching up and squeezing out one more tear. Ron realized that she hadn't meant what she had said, at least not completely. With them coming primarily from the Sacred Twenty, Ron knew that most of his friends thought very little of Werewolves and Squibs, but he also knew that Millie wasn't the sort to wish harm on anyone. Not even Werewolves. Her bizarre reaction really caught me off-guard.

Millie suddenly shot up to her feet, angrily wiping her eyes before marching off towards the exit.

"Where are you going?" Ron asked. "You haven't even read through the second half-"

"I've read plenty," Millie turned around, looking more angry than upset now. "I get it, Ron… You were right. My mother and father aren't who I thought they were, all right? What more do you want?"

"What more do I want?" Ron repeated. "You think I want this, Mills? I get nothing out of this except for you, Daphne, and Pansy being unhappy with me. I'm not the one who's committed the crime, which would be your parents, I'm just the bloke who showed you the truth."

"And what am I supposed to do with it?" Millie asked. "What, Ron? I'm supposed to turn on them, is that it? I'm meant to cut all ties with them and join the Order of the Phoenix?"

"Why are you getting so heated with me?" Ron asked, becoming extremely irritated. "I'm trying to help you, nothing more." Am I just a cunt? Is that it? I'm going out of my way for her, and she's being pissy about it.

"But that's what you want, right?!" Millie demanded. "That I betray my parents and join the Order?!"

"No one is asking you to join the Order," Ron frowned. "And have I explicitly ever asked any of you to betray your parents? Well?"

"You want us to cut ties with them," Millie stood her ground.

"Yes, I want you to stay away from your parents," Ron admitted that openly. "You don't have to join the Order, nor do you have to stab them in the back. All you have to do is to stay away from them-"

"I love my mother and father!" Millie argued, her eyes welling up again. "I don't want to live without them! Who are you to tell us what's right, Ron?! I've seen the charities that my mother and father put together, charities that help thousands of witches and wizards all over the Wizarding World! So what if some Werewolves were sold to some Goblins?! My parents still do more good than bad-"

"You're definitely not thinking clearly," Ron cut in; he couldn't bear to hear such things coming out of Millie's mouth.

"Yes, I am!" Millie snapped. "You don't know everything, Ron! Stop acting like you do!"

"I know that good deeds don't buy you the right to cause pain and misery," Ron stated, and Millie's face pinched in anger. "You know what, Mills? I think we're done here. I've shown you who your parents really are, and unlike what you just said, I'm not planning to turn you against them. I've done my duty as your friend. It's not fair of you to take your anger out on me, so let's just call it a day."

"I'm not going to break their hearts…" Millie said, her eyes becoming glassy. "I won't do it."

"You do what you have to, Mills," Ron turned around and began packing up the documents. And I'll do what I have to in order to this war.

Millie lingered about for a few silent moments, and then, she left without making a sound. Ron finished packing up the file, tucking it away inside his coat. Fuck… She didn't take that well. Daphne and Pansy are going to be even more upset with me, while Millie might never talk to me again.

Ron pinched his eyes and let out a tired breath. It had to be done, Ron. Keep moving forward.

---

Ten Minutes Later

Ron had used the Disillusionment Charm to sneak up to the seventh floor; he really didn't want to get crowded by his fellow students. Sadly, however, Ron now found himself standing before the Fat Lady, her scrutinizing gaze moving up and down his person.

"You're not one of mine, and therefore, I cannot let you pass," the Fat Lady finally spoke.

"Can't you contact someone inside?" Ron asked. What's the point in having a talking entrance? If it was a door, I could've at least knocked.

"Why should I?" the Fat Lady asked.

"Because I want to see my brothers and sister," Ron replied.

"And how do I know that this isn't a trick?" the Fat Lady asked. For Merlin's sake…

"Why would I try to trick you?" Ron asked in response. "I broke my Disillusionment Charm in front of you, didn't I?"

"Oi! Did you forget the password?!" came a laugh from behind him, and Ron turned to see Finnegan and Thomas walking over to him.

Both boys stopped suddenly, their eyes going wide at the sight of Ron. Finally, some people I can talk to. They could deliver my message.

"Hello," Ron greeted his year-mates.

"Weasley, you're really back?" Thomas asked, staring at Ron's brown, slim-fit suit. "And what are you wearing a suit for?"

"They make me look taller," Ron joked, but neither Gryffindor laughed. I guess they're too surprised to see me around after what happened in Hogsmeade.

"Are you all right?" Finnegan suddenly asked. "You know, after all that terrible shite in Hogsmeade?"

"How's Davis? Is she going to recover any time soon?" Thomas asked; sounding genuinely concerned.

"There's been no changes," Ron's face fell a little at the mention of Tracey.

"Sorry to hear that," Thomas scratched the back of his neck.

"She was a brave lass," Finnegan offered. "Everybody's been talking about what she did for you, some are even calling her a hero." She was certainly heroic given her plans to join the Order.

"That's nice…" Ron said distantly. "Can you two do me a favour, actually?"

"Um… Sure," Thomas said, exchanging a look with Finnegan.

"Can you fetch my siblings for me?" Ron asked.

"Oh, yeah, of course," Thomas nodded. "Now it makes sense as to why you're here… Your siblings."

"Just give us a minute," Finnegan said, gesturing him to step away from the Fat Lady.

Ron did as he was told, giving the boys ample secrecy to mutter the password to the Fat Lady. She slid aside with a huff, and both Gryffindors quickly vanished into the loud common room. The Gryffindors seem to be having a merry time in there. The Fat Lady sealed the entrance again, giving him a narrowed eyed stare. Yeesh.

Ron walked further away from the paranoid portrait, the last thing he wanted to do was cause more trouble. Mills yelled at me… She's never even argued with me before. We've always seen eye to eye, which made her reaction all the harder to comprehend. Does she really love her parents that much? I mean, she's a very loyal person, so it makes perfect sense. Fuck… Did I do the right thing here? Or did I just hurt my friend for no reason?

"Ron?!" came Ginny's voice, and just as he turned around, she came barrelling right for him. Oh, shit!

She had her arms around his back within a heartbeat, squeezing the air out of him with her ungodly might. Ron saw his brothers rushing out of the common over Ginny's head, and behind them were the heads of the curious Gryffindors. There's Hermione's bushy hair, she looks like she's about to fall over.

"You're back!" Ginny let out a muffled laugh in his chest. "Are you okay, Ron?! Why haven't you returned any of our letters?!"

"Ronnie," Fred hugged Ron and Ginny, sandwiching the tiny witch between them.

"Oi! I'm in here!" came Ginny's muffled cries of outrage.

"You're finally back," George ruffled Ron's hair, grinning from ear to ear.

"Ron, how have you been?" Percy asked with a sad smile, looking Ron over from head to toe.

"It's good to see all of you again," Ron couldn't help but smile a little; it had been a while since they had been so affectionate towards him. "We should go somewhere a little more private, though."

Ron's brothers looked back towards their peeping House-mates, who didn't even bother to be subtle.

"Fred, you smell like Snape's classroom…" Ginny stepped on Ron's foot, and he quickly pulled himself away from Fred and Ginny.

"Sorry," Ron chuckled nervously, while Ginny wheezed for air. "Do I smell nice, at least?"

"Yes, actually," Ginny laughed simply because he did.

"Let's go to the abandoned classroom near the boys' bathroom," Percy whispered, nudging Fred and George into moving.

Ron let Percy take the lead, walking side-by-side with Ginny and the twins. His little sister suddenly took his gloved hand into hers, giving him a rather relieved smile at the same time.

"How are you doing, Ron?" Fred put his hand on the back of Ron's neck, causing him to tense up.

"Don't grab my neck, please," Ron slipped out Fred's grasp.

"Oh… Sorry," Fred said, exchanging a look with his twin.

"I've been doing all right," Ron decided to answer Fred's question, cutting away any awkwardness. "It was really hard to leave my bed at first, but now I can even come to Hogwarts. Progress."

"How's your friend?" George asked. "Is she going to wake up?"

"There's been no changes," Ron repeated, and Ginny gave his hand a squeeze.

"She'll come back, Ron," Ginny said reassuringly.

"I hope so," Ron said, shooting a look behind them. We're not being followed, at least.

"In here," Percy pushed the door open, and one by one, they all made their way inside.

"It's a bit dusty in here," George commented, looking around for a spot to sit down on. "Here, Ron, this chair looks relatively clean, you can have it-"

Percy flicked his wand and five chairs flew out of the back of the abandoned classroom, and with another flick, he blew the dust off of them. That was some quick wand work right there. Bloody hell, Percy's got skill. Percy then lowered the chairs onto the ground, gently guiding Ron to the middle one.

"Sit down, little brother," Percy advised. "You look a little pale."

"Paler than usual?" Ron asked, and all of his siblings nodded. "Fair enough…"

"I'll go get Luna," George suddenly remembered. "She's been waiting for you as well."

"That'd be great, George," Ron smiled gratefully, noticing Ginny tense up in the back. They still haven't made up?

George hurried out of the room, shooting one last look at Ron right before disappearing. I'll still be here, don't worry.

"So, are you back for good?" Percy asked, sitting down next to Ron.

"No, not yet," Ron replied.

"What? Why?" Ginny quickly took the spot on Ron's left. "It's been weeks, Ron-"

"Gin," Percy gave her a warning look.

"I just don't feel ready yet, Ginny," Ron replied, and his siblings waited for him to elaborate. "Being around people is hard for me right now, and I needed Calming Draughts to do it until today. I'm trying not to rely on them, but whenever I'm around other people, I just can't think straight without one."

"Fuck… That's wretched," Fred shook his head, looking troubled for a change. "Is there anything we can do to help? George and I are still working on that Nutrition Potion for you, we'll have it finished soon, I promise."

"Thanks," Ron smiled again. "But right now, I just need you guys to listen to what I have to say."

"What do you have to say?" Percy asked, while Ginny studied Ron's face.

"Shouldn't we wait for George and Luna?" Fred asked, and Ron gave a nod.

"Ron, are you sick again?" Ginny asked hesitantly, and the room went silent.

"Technically, I never stopped being sick," Ron started. "But no, Ginny, I haven't gotten worse. Physically, at least…"

"After what happened, you have every right to be upset, Ron," Percy said, giving Ron's back a rub. "Take as much time as you need, all right? There's no need to rush yourself." He's being very forward with his affection, and I think Fred's noticed that as well.

"How're mum and dad?" Fred asked, and Ron stilled in his spot. So they don't know yet?

"Mum and dad are fine," Ron said, deciding not to put up with another fight.

"They're not bothering you too much, are they?" Ginny asked. "I remember how intense they were when I was living alone with them."

"I'm sure Bill's keeping them calm," Fred said. "He has a way with them, remember?" I can still remember The Burrow, which means that my family hasn't put up the Fidelius Charm yet. Are they waiting for me to come back? Wait… Where does Luna live again?

"Ron?" Ginny shook him lightly. "Are you there?"

"Oh, sorry," Ron apologized. "I'm a bit tuckered out today…"

"What have you been up to?" Percy asked. "You're wearing a really expensive looking suit."

"You look really stylish, Ron," Ginny added with a smile, no doubt trying to give him a boost.

"Very businessman-like," Fred winked, making Ron snort.

"I was just going through some paperwork today, actually," Ron told them.

"Your homework?" Percy asked. My will.

"You got me," Ron lied, earning a knowing smile from Percy.

The door swung open as soon as he finished, and both Luna and George hurried inside. Ron stood up and smiled at Luna, she was red-faced and panting. She must've skipped down here in a real hurry.

"Hello, Luna," Ron greeted, and she ran over and hugged him immediately.

"It's really good to see you again, Ron," Luna's hug was far gentler than Ginny's. "I've missed you so much."

"I missed you too," Ron said, gently patting her back. Bloody hell, I can't even hug Luna anymore… What do I have to fear from her?

Luna suddenly pulled back and gave him a curious look.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" Luna asked. How did she know that? I literally didn't do anything that would give my discomfort away.

"You're not," Ron lied, but Luna pulled away completely. Shit…

"I want you to be comfortable," Luna said, and Ron decided to come clean. She's already seen through it, so I might as well appreciate her efforts.

"Thanks, Luna," Ron smiled, patting her cheek.

She beamed at him in response, giving him a giggle when he suddenly pinched her cheek. She's as adorable as always.

"Did I miss anything?" George asked Fred.

"He wants to talk to us about something," Fred replied.

"Really?" Luna asked, looking between the twins and Ron. "What do you want to talk about, Ron?"

"You should all sit down for this," Ron suggested, moving in front of the chairs.

"Okay…" Fred said slowly, this didn't sound good.

Luna was the last to take a seat, her unblinking eyes fixed on Ron.

"Well?" Ginny asked impatiently. "What's happened, Ron?"

"I just have something to say to all of you, that's all," Ron said, and then he drew in a deep breath. "So, I was almost assassinated in Hogsmeade…"

Ginny drew in a sharp breath, while the rest went dead quiet.

"My friend got put in a coma, and I honestly can't blame anyone but myself," Ron went on.

"What happened to Davis wasn't your fault, little brother," George spoke up.

"It feels like it is, and I can't stop that," Ron said. "Anyway, I've been thinking about how unpredictable the future is, and during my thinking, I realized that I could die at any moment-"

"Ron," Percy said in disbelief, jerking his head towards Ginny and then Luna.

"Let him speak, please," Luna said, her entire focus on Ron. "He's got something important to share." I really do.

"I'm not well, as you know, and if I have a sudden seizure and hit my head on something, my life is finished," Ron continued, noticing Ginny's face fall. "And even if that doesn't happen, I still don't have long left. My brain damage isn't going away, my conditions are bound to get worse, and now I have people trying to assassinate me. After processing everything that's happened, I've decided to take a more proactive approach to everything."

"What are you talking about?" Fred asked. "Shouldn't you keep resting if you can't even go out in public?"

"I just wanted to do this as quickly as possible," Ron replied, pulling out several envelopes from his inner suit pocket. "Your names are on these, take them."

Percy slowly reached forward, collecting and distributing the envelopes. His sibling opened up the envelopes, pulling out golden keys with the Gringotts insignia branded on them.

"Those keys belong to the vaults I opened in your names," Ron told them.

"You opened a vault in my name?" Percy asked, giving Ron a surprised look.

"Each vault has one thousand Galleons inside it, and I plan to add more over time," Ron said outright.

His siblings were left gobsmacked, including Luna. Ron waited for one of them to speak up, but they were too busy gawking at him. Um… Should I go on?

"I wanted you-" Ron started, but Fred suddenly shot up from his seat.

"You're serious, aren't you?!" Fred exclaimed. That was really loud.

"Did you just give Fred and I a thousand Galleons each?" George asked in utter disbelief.

"Ron, we can't accept this," Percy said, and the twins and Ginny immediately looked at Percy as if he were insane.

"I want you to have it," Ron said. "This is not up for debate, Perce… With what we know is coming; you should each have your own Gringotts vault. Don't you plan to move out next year?"

"I… I do…" Percy admitted.

"Well, now, you have enough to rent a nice, safe residence," Ron said, causing Percy to lose all the fight left in him. "Plus, you'll need money if you want to compete in the Ministry, Percy. Without it, all of those arrogant tossers around you, who are backed and bought by certain Lords, will bribe their way ahead of you."

Ron then looked to the twins; they had both pocketed their keys already.

"You two can start your business without any debt," Ron said, and the twins exchanged deliberate looks. "You don't have to go begging some Lord for funds, nor will you need to avoid falling into the Goblins' legal traps. With two thousand Galleons, and the money I'll add over time, you'll be able to support yourselves completely."

"Ron… This is…" George mumbled, swallowing thickly. "Merlin…"

"You just set us up for life, little brother…" Fred walked over and pulled Ron into a hug, forgetting Ron's discomfort.

"Where is this money coming from, Ron?" Luna asked; she wasn't sure if she could accept his offer.

"From my winnings," Ron replied, he wasn't actually lying. I did find the Room of Hidden Things, and it's hardly my fault that no one thought about looting that place before.

"And you're just giving your winnings to us?" Ginny asked; her key clutched tightly in her hand. "I don't understand…"

"What's the point in me spending that money on myself?" Ron asked in response.

"Oh…" Ginny went quiet again.

"I know this is uncomfortable," Ron said, shooting a quick look at Fred, who was still attached to Ron. "But I'd really appreciate it if you accepted your keys. It would put my mind at ease, and I'm certain that one day your vaults will help you all."

"Mum and dad wouldn't allow this," George pointed out.

"Then don't tell them," Ron said, shooting another look at Fred. "Fred… Can you stop now? Please?"

"Right…" Fred took a step back, giving Ron an awkward smile and a nod.

"Like I was saying," Ron chuckled at Fred's odd expression. "Don't tell the parents. I opened those vaults in your names, not the parents'. You don't have to use your vaults, of course, but just keep them in case something goes wrong. In a couple of days, I'll have Helios deliver your Gringotts pouches to you as well. Keep them on your persons at all times, understand?"

"I don't know what to say…" Percy all but whispered, staring down at his key.

"There's no need to say anything," Ron told them. "Just promise me that you'll keep looking out for each other, yeah?"

"You're not leaving, are you?" Ginny asked quickly, losing all of her excitement about becoming rich. "We've barely talked, Ron, you can't leave yet."

"I'm with her on this," Percy looked back to Ron. "Don't leave so soon, please."

Ron shifted in his spot a little, feeling guilty about wanting to stay with his siblings. I still need to work on my will; I haven't even finished one page yet…

"George, let's go get our games," Fred said, and George stood up and gave a nod. What? "Percy, hold Ronnie down if you need to."

"Pardon?" Ron blinked.

"You want to leave, but we've been worrying over you constantly," Fred explained. "Sorry, but you're not leaving so easily. You said that you couldn't stand being around people? Fine, we'll just play in here."

"I like that idea," Ginny said.

"Me too," Luna added, and Ginny shot a not-so-subtle look at her estranged best friend. They really want to spend their evening playing games with me?

"Do I need to hold you down, Ron?" Percy asked him.

"No…" Ron couldn't resist the familiarity of playing games with his siblings. Stupid fuck! Don't you have work that needs to be finished?! People are dying out there, but no, you can enjoy your fucking games for the evening… Selfish bastard…

"Let's make some space on the ground," Ginny quickly moved into action, not giving Ron the chance to change his mind.

The twins left in a hurry, while Luna walked over and planted herself in front of Ron.

"Have you noticed anything different about me?" Luna asked him with her usual airy smile.

"Um… No, I haven't…" Ron replied, still combating his guilt. I'll just do extra work tonight to make up for it. Yeah… That could work. Fuck sleeping, right?

"Really?" Luna clicked her heels, swaying back and forth. What is she up to?

Ron looked Luna over; unable to focus on her school robes completely. They look the same as always to me.

"Sorry, Luna, I can't really notice anything," Ron admitted.

"My shoes," Luna said, looking down at her own feet.

She was wearing a well-polished pair of black school shoes. Um… They're just shoes.

"They're very nice," Ron said, and Luna giggled.

"They're not mine, silly," Luna told him. "Mine had flowers on them, remember?" I don't look at people's feet that often, Luna.

"Then whose shoes are they?" Ron asked.

"These shoes belong to Hermione," Luna replied loudly enough that Ginny overheard her. They do? What the fuck? Then why are you wearing them?

Ron immediately noticed Ginny listening in, and by the look on Percy's face, he had caught her eavesdropping as well.

"Why are you wearing Hermione's shoes?" Ron asked slowly.

"She gave them to me because I didn't have mine," Luna replied, once again speaking a little too loudly and clearly. "Some girls have been picking on me recently-"

"What?" Ron felt his temper flare immediately. Fucking Gertrude Swans! That cunt! It has to be her!

"Who's picking on you?" Percy asked with a furrowed brow, while Ginny clenched her fists.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Luna replied. "Harry and Hermione helped put an end to it." Harry and Hermione?

"Luna, tell me everything," Ron crossed his arms.

"A bunch of older girls started singling me out," Luna hummed. "They hid my things, painted 'Looney' on my trunk with Permanent Paint, and when Harry found me by the lake, these girls were taking their bullying really far…"

"Really far?" Ginny couldn't help but ask. "Did they hit you?"

"They shoved me hard, and one of them poked me with her foot," Luna replied. Gertrude Swans is dead. I'll shove my foot so far up her arse; she'll have my shoelaces running down her chin.

"Was it Gertrude Swans?" Ron asked dangerously. "Is she targeting you again now that I'm not around?" Big fucking mistake, Swans.

"She was trying to, but Harry and Hermione put an end to it," Luna restated. "Harry showed up when I couldn't take it anymore, and he singlehandedly stood up for me. I was really worried that a fight was going to break out between Harry and the girls, but then the twins showed up-"

"The twins are the ones who sent Gertrude and her friends to the Hospital Wing?" Percy asked. "I knew it." Really, Percy?

"They protected Luna from Gertrude," Ginny reminded her brother, who quickly cleared his throat. "Swans and her friends got what they deserved, Percy."

"What happened after the twins intervened?" Ron asked; he wanted to know what part Harry and Hermione had played in protecting his sister when he couldn't. Knowing them, they couldn't stand by while Luna was helpless.

"Harry flew me back to the castle, and he was really kind to me," Luna said sincerely. "I was really shaken up by everything that had happened, so Harry took me to Hermione. They helped me feel better, and Hermione even gave me her spare pair of 'Hogwarts approved' shoes." That was very thoughtful of her. I should thank them both when I get a chance.

Ron shot a quick look at Ginny, noticing the conflicted look on her face. Is Ginny contemplating befriending the Trio again? Or maybe she just doesn't believe Luna? Can never know with her, honestly. Ron looked back to Luna, giving her arm a gentle squeeze.

"Are you sure that you're okay now?" Ron asked. "Just say the word if you're not, Luna, and I'll pay Swans a visit."

"Harry and Hermione reported her to Professor Flitwick for me," Luna replied. "He told them off already, Ron, so you should put it out of your mind." Yeah, that's not happening.

"I'll have a chat with Professor Flitwick," Percy told them. "If Swans really is singling you out to abuse her power, Luna, I'll have her badge by the end of the weekend." That's a good start.

"Harry and Hermione really helped you? What about Neville?" Ron asked.

"Neville wasn't there," Luna replied. "Harry only found me because he had Quidditch Training, and he took me straight to Hermione. Neville was with his roommates at the time." So it was all Harry and Hermione, then. Neville didn't even influence them.

Ron found himself feeling thankful to Harry and Hermione for the first time in a long time, and he internally promised to repay his debt to them. They helped Luna when I couldn't, so maybe I should show a little goodwill in exchange? I think that's only fair.

"Is he still here?!" Fred burst into the room, and George looked over his twin's shoulder.

"Yes, he's still here," Percy frowned a little at the twins for attacking a prefect, but he didn't say anything that could lead to an argument.

"We got everything," George said as he closed the door. "Exploding Snaps, Gobstones, Wizard's Poker, Hang the Witch…"

"And plenty of sweets to enjoy, I see," Luna giggled.

"What do you want to start with, Ron?" Fred asked as he helped George set the games and sweets down. I shouldn't be here… I shouldn't be enjoying myself.

"Wizard's Poker," Ron replied. "I'm pretty good at it now, actually."

"We'll see about that," George smirked challengingly. Oh, yes, you'll see.

---

Thursday 11th February, 1994 (Greengrass Manor – Past Midnight)

Ron leaned back in his study chair, examining all the untouched pages of his will still left to fill out. With his left hand, he munched on the sweets he had swindled out of his siblings, and with his right hand, he fiddled with his quill. His mind felt sluggish due to how late it was, and writing down a will was difficult work. I can't even recall my own assets right now… I need to sleep.

Ron dragged himself out his chair, stretching and groaning. What's the time? Ron looked down at his Rolex, and then he looked to make sure that his door was locked. All right, everyone should be asleep… Let's hope this works.

"Marty! I need you!" Ron called, hoping to Merlin that Elves could be summoned despite the Fidelius Charm.

After nearly ten seconds of silence, Marty suddenly cracked into the room with a confused expression.

"Master?" Marty looked him over, visibly relaxing at the sight of Ron. "Master… It was you who called Marty, after all."

"Who else would call you?" Ron asked. "Are you cheating on me?"

"Cheating on Master?" Marty tilted his head a little.

"Never mind, it was a joke…" Ron yawned.

"Master, where are we?" Marty scratched his head. "Marty cannot remember…"

"The Fidelius Charm, mate," Ron said, and Marty's eyes widened. "I guess this must be really weird for you, unable to remember this place."

"It is most jarring, yes…" Marty looked around the room. "Marty has memories of this house, and yet, Marty can't recall said memories… This is Lord Greengrass' home, is it not?"

"It is," Ron nodded. "How have you been, Marty?"

"Marty has been working on Master's request very diligently," Marty smiled, forgetting about his confusion in favour of sharing his findings.

"And?" Ron asked.

"And… Marty has found something," Marty's smile broadened. "What does Master know of the Carrow Twins?" Well, I know now that they'll be dead soon.

"Tell me everything, Marty."

---

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I hope you guys enjoyed that, stay safe and wear a condom.

Check out the discord, it's litty lit!

I'll see you guys in a couple of week!