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.

127. Chapter 127 - An Ill Omen

AUTHOR'S NOTES: It's been so long, my friends! Sorry about that, but studies and personal life shit got me tied up. However, to make it up to you, I've released a behemoth of a chapter. It's a two in one kind of thing!

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.

---

'Any man that tries to rob me of my dignity will lose' Nelson Mandela

---

Fate

Chapter 127 – An Ill Omen

Ronald Weasley's POV

Friday 19th February, 1994 (The Carrow Twins' Estate – Night)

Ron's entire body felt as cold as ice, and once he had lowered his wand, he saw his handiwork with perfect clarity.

Amycus Carrow's broken body lay motionless, his fear and pain forever etched upon his face. The man was dead, there was no mistaking it. Ron had expected pride to fill his chest, because he had, essentially, saved hundreds of lives by taking Amycus', and yet, pride was not what Ron felt.

All he felt was a hollowness where his heart should've been…

"Fucking hell, I didn't expect such a resounding success!" Ravenclaw Ron exclaimed in the background. "But given your anger issues, I shouldn't really be surprised! Good on you, Ronald, you just saved hundreds-"

"Leave," Ron growled, his monstrous eyes fixed on his victim. "Leave now, or, We will turn Our rage towards you."

"Woah… Easy, Ronald-" Ravenclaw Ron started, but when Ron turned to face him, he quickly wised up. "You make an excellent point, old boy, I'll be on my way, then…"

With a sheepish grin, Ravenclaw Ron vanished from sight; leaving Ron alone in the dark, damp dungeon. The darkness seemed to close in on him, engulfing him and further chilling his bones. He had killed before, however, it felt different this time around, and Ron couldn't quite figure out why. Is it because I used the Killing Curse?

Ron slowly looked down at his Aspen Wand, there was a thin, green mist sizzling out of the tip; proof that Ron had resorted to the Darkest Curse ever made. Without thinking, Ron dropped the wand onto the bloodied floor, his stomach turning as his vision began to blur. What… What did I just do…? Why am I in such a horrible place? What the fuck is happening?!

The world began to spin, all the vacant and unwashed faces around him were silently judging him. He could hear their thoughts; he was just another murderer in their lifeless eyes. No, what I did saved lives… These bastards, these fucking rapists and murderers… They deserve this. They deserve to be punished for their crimes!

Ron let out a broken whimper, failing to regain control over his disarrayed mind. Merlin, everything hurts… Very slowly, Ron managed to pull out his Cypress Wand, limping towards the Muggle-Born boy behind him. I have to save him… I have to save them all…

"I'll heal you…" Ron coughed out, finally realizing that the aftereffects of abusing Cutis Terra were catching up to him. "Just hold on, okay? I'll get you out of here, mate…"

With shaking hands, Ron tilted the boy's head back and aimed his wand at the 'M' on the boy's cheek. I'm sorry this happened to you… You didn't deserve this…

"Epis…key…" Ron started, but it was too much.

His knees suddenly buckled, causing him to collapse onto his side. His vision began to darken as mind-numbing pain seized his body, and the last thing he saw was the boy's lifeless face staring down at him.

---

Emilia Travers' POV

Friday 19th February, 1994 (The Carrow Twins' Estate – Night)

The smell of Magic was thick in the air, which only served to further fuel Emilia's bloodlust.

Throughout her Ronin training, Emilia had been taught to discipline her mind and to never draw her Oni-Blade in anger. For the most part, Emilia tried her best to live by the Ronin Code, constantly fighting against who she was in order to stay true to her sensei's teachings.

Tonight, however, she was willing to make an exception.

"Target the women!" Emilia barked, rolling out of the way of a Killing Curse. "Don't let them escape back into the ballroom! Push forward!"

With roars of outrage, Emilia's mercenaries moved in front of her, half of them throwing out Curses while the other half focused on defending the group. The 'Death-Eaters' were no match for superior training, especially given the fact that most of them were drunk from their 'festivities'.

"Get back!" Artyom's voice suddenly boomed as he pulled one of Emilia's men away from a Killing Curse. "Keep your fucking eyes open! Keep shields up!"

"They're pinned against the doors!" one of her men called out.

"Drop the ceiling on them!" Emilia ordered. "When they move to stop the debris, we charge them!"

"Confringo!" one of her men fired the Blasting Curse at the ceiling right above the Death-Eaters, and just as Emilia had anticipated, most of the Death-Eaters aimed their wands into the air to stop the debris.

"Forward!" Emilia roared, breaking through the ranks with her blade drawn above her head.

Artyom and her men followed closely at her heel, but she was much faster than all of them, and as such, she was the first to reach the panicking and shrieking Death-Eaters. Surasshu! Emilia's Oni-Blade hummed as her Magic passed into it, giving it a bright, magenta glow and mastery over the wind.

"Avada-" a large Lord started, but Emilia' Nodachi Katana found his throat first, severing his head right in front of his screaming wife. Die, you fucking degenerates!

With a monstrous battle cry, Emilia slashed the air in front of her without a moment's hesitation, sending forth a sharp blast of wind that sliced through two Death-Eaters. The woman to her left kept screaming, and just as Emilia moved to silence her, Artyom smashed into the woman shoulder-first, sending her flying into her fellow Pure-Bloods. The large Russian already had a fat Lord by his throat, using his plump body as a meat shield.

Debris fell around them as the Death-Eaters tried to run away, but Emilia and her mercenaries showed no mercy whatsoever. Those who weren't killed outright were put in Magical Binds and dragged away, the screams only got louder as Emilia began carving her way towards the cowards hiding in the back.

Blinding lights, sprays of blood, the feel of entrails beneath her boots, and the never-ending screams propelled her further; every drop of fury she had nurtured deep within her heart finally being unleashed upon her enemies.

By the time she realized that there was no one left to cut down, Emilia was soaked in gore from head-to-toe. The sudden silence washed over her like a bucket of ice-cold water, ripping the air out of her lungs. So much red… She was clutching her blade's hilt so firmly that her knuckles were beginning to ache, her twisted expression resembling the monster inside of her. Fucking Death-Eater scum! I'll kill every single one of you for what you did to my Family! For what you did to my mother and father!

"Please! We have money-" a man's voice broke Emilia out of her stupor, and when she turned her attention to the whimpering Lord, she felt nothing but disgust.

"You think we care?" Emilia hissed coldly, silencing everyone. "You think your wealth will protect you from justice?"

"Please, don't do this-" a Lady began to beg, but Artyom yanked her up by her hair and started dashing her skull against the door leading into the ballroom.

Emilia grinned viciously, looking towards the unfortunate souls who had been captured by her mercenaries. They all trembled and whimpered at the sight of her, filling Emilia with a sense of power and purpose. You don't get to be afraid now, not after what you've been doing in the shadows for years. Actions have consequences, and today, you will all finally get a taste of this truth.

"Ma'am, there may be more inside the ballroom," Jones, the soldier Solomon had gifted to her, stepped up. "And Joseph still hasn't returned from the kitchens. I'd like to take some men and find him. If the Elves have taken Joseph and his team down, then we could be in danger." He's not wrong, we could get ambushed from behind if we keep pushing forward without caution.

Of all of her mercenaries, he was the only one with the balls to approach her in her current state, and that alone earned him her respect.

"Take three men and drag this lot towards the greeting room," Emilia started, shaking off the blood blemishing her Oni-Blade. "The rest of you are with me! We only stop once the estate is firmly under our control!"

"You heard the Lady," Jones pointed to the three mercenaries closest to him. "You, you, and you! You're with me! Let's go!"

"I must also go," Artyom walked up from behind her.

"Go where?" Emilia turned to face the Russian, noticing that his long, black mane was slick with blood.

"My client needs me," Artyom growled, but before he could walk away, Emilia stepped into his way. "What are you doing?"

"I need you here," Emilia said. "Don't worry about him, did you not see what he is capable of?" I have no doubts about his power anymore, I have found myself the perfect ally.

Artyom spat out some blood, though Emilia wasn't sure whose blood it actually was.

"Look, we clear the ballroom, and then, you and I can go find him," Emilia said. "I promise you; his only concern right now is making sure that none of these twisted bastards escape."

"You know much about him," Artyom noted. "You and I will talk later."

"No, we won't," Emilia said bluntly. "If you want information on him, then you can go look for it on your own. Don't drag me into your curiosity." I don't betray my friends' confidence.

Artyom said nothing, but eventually, he gave her a curt nod. Good, it's time to move on.

"Get this door open," Emilia moved over to the large door. "And bring the device, I still have one vial of the Sleeping Agent left."

"Here you are, Ma'am," one of her wands brought it over.

"Wait for me to finish arming it," Emilia ordered, getting right to work. I'll activate it once we're inside, can't afford to waste the last of my Sleeping Agent.

Within a few short seconds, the device was humming in her hands; ready to be activated. Artyom moved over to the door, and as soon as she gave him the signal, he used a Non-Verbal 'Bombarda' to blast the door open. Artyom and Emilia's soldiers ran in first, setting up shields in order to gain a foothold within the large room.

As Emilia followed the others inside, she quickly noticed a handful of Lords and Ladies cowering in the far corners of the extravagant, yet dimly lit, ballroom. She could see the confusion and horror written all over their faces, as if they had been attacked without provocation or reason. I can't forget that, in their eyes, they're doing nothing wrong. To them, we're the twisted ones for putting them down-

"What the fuck is that?!" one of Emilia's mercenaries shouted, her finger pointing towards a headless Centaur trotting about. By all the Gods…

Utter silence filled Emilia's ranks, all they could do was watch in horror as four dead men, their throats slit to the point of near decapitation, waddled about aimlessly, accompanied by the large, headless Centaur. Necromancy… Ronald was right… How could he sense it from upstairs? Even I can't sense Magic this… unnatural, despite my many years of training.

Ever so slowly, Emilia and the others turned their attentions back towards the Lords and Ladies behind this violation against nature. Not a single one of them looked guilty over their actions, all they were concerned with was their own safety. Emilia, personally, cared very little for Half-Breeds and Muggles, but this…

This could not stand; her Ronin Code could not allow such evil to exist. We spare them now, and they'll go right back to committing such horrors. Their cruelty ends tonight!

"KILL THEM ALL! SHOW THEM NO FUCKING MERCY!" Emilia roared as she tossed the device aside, aiming her Oni-Blade in the direction of Herbert Crabbe, one of her father's murderers. You! You're mine!

Screams broke out once again, with Emilia's forces quickly overpowering the scant Lords and Ladies. Most of the Death-Eaters didn't even bother to fight back, opting to run for safety instead, only to be cut down from behind.

"Finite!" Emilia chanted, charging up her Oni-Blade with the General Counter-Spell.

As she marched towards Crabbe, who was locked in combat with Emilia's mercenaries, a shrieking Lady, Mina Selwyn, grabbed onto Emilia's arm.

"Help me! Don't let them touch me-" the Selwyn matriarch began.

"Get off!" Emilia hissed, shoving the woman back and slashing her throat open.

Hot blood sprayed onto Emilia's face, but she hardly even noticed as she was already drenched in buckets of it. Step by step, Emilia neared her unaware prey; the fool was shouting insults and hurling Curses without any strategy or awareness. No skill, no finesse… He's just a wild animal, one that needs to be put down! By the time he noticed her, Emilia was already bringing down her blade. For father!

With a swift, and accurate, slash, Emilia severed Crabbe's wand hand at the wrist, eliciting a blood-curdling scream from the large man. You stole everything from me!

"You fucking bitch!" Crabbe howled, keeling over and all but presenting his neck to Emilia. For mother!

"Die!" Emilia screamed, bringing her sword down and decapitating Crabbe.

Ignoring the spurting stump where Crabbe's thick head once sat, Emilia grabbed the severed head and lifted it high into the air for all to see.

"LOOK!" Emilia yelled at the top of her lungs, catching the attention of multiple people around her.

"Herbert!" George Selwyn wailed, aiming his wand at Emilia.

Emilia didn't move a single muscle, simply grinning at the screaming Death-Eaters. Selwyn's eyes widened at the sight of a blood-soaked Emilia, her savage grin freezing him out of sheer fear. You're all going to fucking die!

"You will all fall tonight!" Emilia promised, throwing Crabbe's head at Selwyn's feet. "Come! Face death with a shred of honour, you dogs!"

"Cruc-" Selwyn started, but an errant Reductor Curse suddenly blew a chunk of his head away. Damn! That was my kill!

Emilia looked to where the Curse had come from, spotting Artyom holding a short Lord in a headlock. He gave her a curt nod before snapping the man's neck, tossing the body aside unceremoniously. Emilia let out a startling laugh, fully giving into her bloodlust.

"Don't spare a single man or woman!" Emilia ordered. "Tear them to pieces! Tonight, we're sending a fucking message straight to the Dark Lord! Even Lord Voldemort isn't above justice!"

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Friday 19th February, 1994 (The Carrow Twins' Estate – Night)

Ron woke up with a jerk, his breathing short and laboured. His entire body felt like it was on fire, and when he tried to move, his muscles locked up painfully. Even his joints ached, which rendered him useless. I pushed myself too far… Fuck, I'm so stupid. I already know my limits, but I still crossed them without a second thought. So incredibly stupid…

With a pained grunt, Ron forced himself to sit up. His muscles fought him along the way, but Ron grit his teeth and pushed on until he was sitting on his arse. His body swayed from side to side, and Ron had to use his hands to steady himself. My wands… Where are my wands? Through groggy vision, Ron was able to spot both of his wands; they were just out of his reach.

Just as he began to crawl towards them, he heard footsteps coming from the top of the stairs. Oh, fuck! Panic seized him, and Ron threw himself forward in order to reach his wands in time. Once again, his muscles locked up, sending crippling pain all throughout his body. It was enough to wind him and further darken his vision, he couldn't even bring himself to lift his wands at this point. I'm dead. I'm so fucking dead. Fuck you, Entity!

Each step he heard filled him with more and more dread, his augmented suit was literally his only method of defence now. If they aim for my head, it's over. Fuck! Move, Ron! You can't die until the Cycles are broken! But try as he might, there was simply no more strength left in him. Madam Pomfrey had warned him not to abuse Cutis Terra, explaining in great detail that overuse of this particular Spell would cause muscle damage, and even, muscle atrophy. Fucking idiot. Think of something else, then!

In a last-ditch effort to survive, Ron did the only thing that might save him; he pretended to be dead. If they get close enough, I can use my claws to lash out at their throats. Though, I don't have it in me to even throw out a stunner. I'm so fucked, I know it. The large metal door at the bottom of the stairs clanked, followed by an audible growl. Ron kept still, his mask pressing into the hard dungeon floor. C'mon, cunt… Get closer.

"Damn!" came a booming voice, followed by two pairs of footsteps running towards him. Artyom?!

"Is he dead?" Emilia asked, sounding more angry than upset. Thank fuck!

"Not quite yet…" Ron groaned, and he was quickly rolled over by the Russian wizard.

A strained whine escaped Ron's throat, Artyom's rough handling only served to make the pain even more unbearable.

"Stop…" Ron grunted, immediately coughing and trembling. "You're hurting me…"

"What happened?" Artyom demanded, aiming his wand at Ron's chest and muttering some incantation in Russian.

"Was it Amycus?" Emilia asked, even through the darkness, Ron could see that she was covered in blood. What the fuck? Is she hurt?

"No, it was me," Ron managed, letting his entire body relax. "I abused my Magic, and my body couldn't handle it… I fucked up…"

"You had better not die, contract has barely started," Artyom growled, pocketing his and Ron's wands before sliding his arms underneath Ron's torso and knees.

With very little effort, Artyom lifted Ron into the air like a baby, holding him closely against his chest. Despite the pain, Ron felt rather safe now that his bodyguard was here to defend him. I'm not dying in some fucking dungeon. I have too much work left to do.

"We are leaving," Artyom said firmly.

"The Death-Eaters-" Ron tried; his work wasn't finished yet.

"She can take care of remaining ones," Artyom cut him off. "Most are already dead." Ah… Good… The fucking cunts deserve no less.

"I can't…" Ron muttered. "I can't just leave…"

"I'm with Artyom on this," Emilia said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a bloodied handkerchief. "Take him back to my manor, my personal Elf, Godrey, will take care of him-"

"I will take care of my client," Artyom refused.

"There is a Healing Spring in my gardens," Emilia grabbed Artyom's arm, stopping him from walking away with Ron. "Tell me, are you an expert at Healing Magic? Or, are you going to ask one of your wands to come over and heal him for you?" Shit, I don't need other people learning of my involvement in this… "Godrey is as loyal as they come, he will never speak of this to anyone." Emilia then looked to Ron. "Trust me on this, just as I've trusted you time and time again."

Ron managed to turn his head in order to look into her eyes, she was staring back at him with genuine concern. A loyal Elf would never run his mouth, but a mercenary would… I don't have much of a choice.

"Artyom, do as she says…" Ron muttered, his eyes drooping. "That… is an order…" Fuck me, I'm falling back to sleep… Everything hurts…

"Fine," Artyom didn't argue, much to Ron's relief. "Give me Portkey."

"Emilia…" Ron turned his attention back to her, while she slipped the handkerchief into Artyom's left hand. "The Dark Lord… Someone here might know where to find him. Find out what… they know…"

Darkness began to pull at his consciousness, forcibly dragging him away from his mission. We can't stop until he's dead… Can't stop…

---

Emilia Travers' POV

Friday 19th February, 1994 (The Carrow Twins' Estate – Night)

With Artyom and Ron gone, Emilia finally turned her attention towards Amycus Carrow's broken corpse. A small part of her regretted not being the one to put him down, his name was also on her list, after all, but her more reasonable side was just glad that he was dead. And from the looks of it, Ron made him suffer before putting him down.

Slowly, Emilia walked over to Amycus' body, sneering down at him with utter disgust. I'll be sure to send your friends to hell as well, pig. Emilia spat on her enemy's dead body, and after shooting one last look at the prisoners around her, she clutched the hilt of her Oni-Blade and marched out of the dungeons. They're all clearly drugged, but we should Obliviate them nonetheless in order to keep the Aurors in the dark about us.

"Ma'am!" Jones greeted her as soon as she stepped out of the dungeons.

"Did you find Joseph?" Emilia asked, not breaking her stride.

"We did, Ma'am," Jones followed after her, his right hand covering a bloody wound on his left arm. "The Elves put up a fight, but we managed to overpower them eventually. Most of them are dead, and any survivors have been brought to the greeting room. What do we do with them?"

"We end them," Emilia replied without hesitation. "They've seen us, and now that we've killed their Masters, they will want vengeance. Have we secured the entire estate?"

"Mostly," Jones started. "Someone placed Magical Seals on all the windows and the doors; we've captured a handful who were trying, and failing, to break out of the estate."

A smirk graced Emilia's face, Ron's plan to use Zolly as a means to seal the estate before the attack had worked flawlessly. Truly, he is a perfect ally to have in these times. Together, we have injured the Dark Lord unlike ever before. Not even the Order achieved such a victory throughout the Great War.

"What of the upper floors?" Emilia asked.

"Some tried to run up there, but in their panic, they failed to notice the Sleeping Agent," Jones replied. "We just finished searching all three floors, no one made it past the stairs leading up to the second floor." Excellent, we can't afford to leave even one witness.

"Search the grounds as well, then, and don't leave a single stone unturned," Emilia ordered. "After that, grab your best Obliviaters and head down to the dungeons. The poor bastards down there have been drugged; however, they could still pass on information to the Aurors via memories. I want the last two hours of their lives completely wiped out. Understand?" Ron was down there, they may have seen or heard something that they shouldn't have. Protecting his identity has to be the priority now.

"Yes, Ma'am," Jones gave a nod, breaking away from her as they entered the greeting room.

Emilia took in her surroundings, silently watching her mercenaries gather all the survivors into the greeting room. We outright killed most of them, now it's time to finish the job.

"Ma'am, there are survivors under the debris," one of her wands-for-hire walked over. I know this one, her name is Adaego, I think.

"What debris?" Emilia asked the tall, dark-skinned woman.

"Over there," Adaego pointed towards the destruction Ron had wrought; some of Emilia's stronger men were digging through the rubble. "The man in the mask… He killed almost a dozen outright, but some were pinned under the collapsing ceiling. We can hear them moaning from under the rubble."

"Dig them out and bring them over, we're not leaving anyone alive," Emilia ordered.

"Gladly, Ma'am," Adaego said, leaving to do her work.

Emilia made her way over to the captives, itching to pull out her blade and dispense true justice upon them. All of the remaining Death-Eaters had already been gagged and bound, their chance of escaping next to nil, and yet, the more cautious half of Emilia was urging her to finish them before any unexpected problem arose. At this point, it's best that we just get rid of them as quickly as possible, but not before I get some answers out of them-

"Go on! Keep eyeballing me, you fucking rapist!" one of her men yelled, he was beating some foreign Lord without a hint of mercy.

"Soldier!" Emilia snapped, stopping everyone around her dead in their tracks. "I have not allowed you to kill the captives yet."

"I caught this one raping a goddamn child!" the wand-for-hire turned around with a murderous gaze. "A boy no older than twelve!"

Emilia, and the others, turned their attention towards the snivelling Lord, who was rather quick to hide his gaze from his captors. This hypocrite no doubt condemns such behaviour in public, and yet, behind these walls, he feasts upon forbidden fruits without a single consequence. Look at what his greed has turned him into; a lecherous monster.

"Take off his gag," Emilia ordered, walking over to the Lord.

"Come here," Emilia's mercenary snarled, yanking the gag down rather forcefully. "Talk, you piece of shit! Explain what you were doing to that boy!"

"What is your name, filth?" Emilia demanded.

"Lord… Lord… Gruev…" the man whimpered. "Lord Boyan Gruev…"

"Lord Boyan Gruev," Emilia had heard that name before. "Head of the Gruev Family from Bulgaria. Am I correct?" He has children around the same age as his victim… Such vile corruption. It must be purged immediately; the Code demands it.

Gruev gave a shaky nod, sniffling like a toddler with fat tears rolling down his bruised cheeks.

"Tell me, 'Lord' Gruev," Emilia kneeled down, grabbing a fistful of the man's blonde hair. "Don't Bulgaria's Old Families frown upon violence against Muggles? After Grindelwald's stunts at Durmstrang Institute, and his loyal following within Bulgaria's elite during the Global Wizarding War, you've all become quite 'progressive', have you not?" Clearly, it's all for show, which is hardly surprising given that Durmstrang Institute still refuses Muggle-Borns entry.

"Answer her, you swine!" Emilia's mercenary stomped on Gruev's shin.

"It… It's true…" Gruev coughed out, letting out another sob. "Please… Show mercy…"

"Then, what you were you doing to that boy?" Emilia whispered coldly. "I'm going to assume that he was a Muggle? Would I be wrong in my assessment?"

"I… I have money… I can make you a wealthy-" Gruev started, but a backhand from Emilia shut him up.

"Do not assume that I am anything like you," Emilia hissed. "Money means nothing to me; I am only concerned with justice and honour. And you, Lord Gruev, clearly understand neither." Emilia then stood up, pulling out her sharpest dagger from her belt. "What do you know about the Travers Family, Lord Gruev?"

The man's eyes widened immediately, which put another vicious grin on Emilia's face. He knows exactly who we are, and what we do to Dark Wizards.

"That's right, we were the original Dark Wizard Hunters of Magical Britain," Emilia said, her dark eyes digging into Gruev's. "For centuries, we delivered our own form of justice upon your kind, and today, you will get a firsthand look at what happens when you cross our path."

Emilia then offered the dagger to her mercenary, who accepted it with a slightly puzzled look. There is no stronger bond than one between comrades-in-arms, and after tonight, that is exactly what we all are.

"This one is yours," Emilia said. "Castrate him, and then, string him up by his ankles from the rafters. He can bleed to death like the pig he is."

"NO! Please!" Gruev begged, while Emilia's mercenaries nodded their approval and cheered for Gruev's blood. "Please, I'm begging! I'm disarmed-"

"You have no mercy for others, so why should we have any for you?" Emilia asked, and then she looked to her mercenary. "What is your name, soldier?"

"Alonso, Ma'am," the man replied, keeping his gaze fixed on Gruev.

"Make it a clean cut, Alonso," Emilia said, leaving Gruev to die in the bed he had made for himself.

---

One Hour Later

Any attempts to find the location of the Dark Lord had been futile, he had clearly hidden his location with the Fidelius Charm, which in turn rendered all of Emilia's efforts useless.

However, after Emilia had cut off all of Alecto Carrow's fingers and toes, the wretched woman had finally revealed that Corban Yaxley had attended the party earlier on in the night in an effort to recruit all of these fine Lords and Ladies to the Dark Lord's cause. This only served to further justify the attack in Emilia's mind, they truly had dealt a heavy blow against the Dark Lord tonight. Not the Ministry, and not the Order… But rather, Ron and I are the ones who got results. Perhaps we should break away from the Order, and the old fools who gatekeep it like it's some Holy Organisation.

"Any final words, murderer?" Emilia asked Bartholomew Goyle, who simply sneered and spat at her feet. "I'll take that as a no."

"You're the murderers!" Goyle suddenly yelled, shooting another look at the hanging bodies within the greeting room. "Look at what you've done to us!"

"The pot is calling the kettle black," Jones joked, earning laughs from the other mercenaries. "What goes around comes around, ever heard of that?"

"This is war, Lord Goyle," Emilia whispered coldly, drawing her Oni-Blade. "You too have shed blood, and just like us tonight, you did not show mercy to your enemies-"

"This is our world! OURS!" Goyle yelled hysterically. "You fucking Blood-Traitors and Mud-Bloods will burn it to the ground!"

"We didn't start this fight!" one of her men yelled back. "You bastards murdered my sister, her husband, and their babies! And all because she married a Muggle who loved her just as much as she loved him!"

"What about the families you've destroyed?" Adaego asked harshly. "What about the children in those dungeons right now? You've ruined them forever with your evil!"

"Their lives are worth less than dirt!" Goyle spat out. "You're all less than-"

Emilia's blade found his neck before he could finish, and as his head rolled off of his shoulders, Emilia's mercenaries broke into roars of victory. As her men enjoyed their victory, Emilia drew in a silent breath and regained control over her mind. Three names in one night… I hope you're watching mother and father, I'm so close to avenging the wrongs done to our Family.

"Finish identifying all the bodies, and gather up our dead," Emilia ordered, shaking the blood off of her katana before sheathing it once again. "But leave all the evidence behind for the Aurors, the world will finally know what these monsters get up to in the shadows."

---

Saturday 20th February, 1994 (Travers Manor – Just Past Midnight)

"Godrey, there you are," Emilia marched up to her old Elf, who quickly turned to face her with rapt attention.

"Mistress has dragged blood onto Godrey's carpets, just like the rude Russian," Godrey sighed out, his wrinkly face pinching in disapproval.

"I'm sure you can get it out," Emilia rolled her eyes. He's becoming sassier with age. "How is the boy? Did the Healing Springs patch him up?"

"The child will live; Godrey has healed far worse," Godrey reported, indicating to the door behind him. "How did Mistress' mission fare? Has Mistress made the Travers Name proud?"

"Over forty Death-Eaters dead," Emilia replied proudly, and Godrey immediately bowed as low as he could. "I have also taken the heads of Herbert Crabbe and Bartholomew Goyle, though their wives were not in attendance." It matters very little; I will find them as well.

"Mistress brings honour back to the Travers Family," Godrey commended. "Godrey shall put on a feast to celebrate Mistress' success. What would Mistress like to eat?"

"Just some miso soup will do for now," Emilia said, not feeling particularly hungry. "We have to make sure that none know of our involvement in this, not even the other Elves."

"Godrey understands," Godrey raised his head, smiling proudly for a change. "Godrey shall also endeavour to prepare a bath for Mistress, the stench of blood is most unpleasant."

"On that, we shall have to disagree," Emilia smirked.

"Before Godrey leaves, does Mistress require healing?" Godrey asked.

"No, Godrey, go about your business," Emilia said, moving towards the door.

Godrey vanished from the hallway with a barely audible pop, while Emilia knocked on the door before entering. Artyom was sitting on a chair by Ron's bedside, watching over the young redhead with his wand at the ready. Does this man ever stop working?

"You are back," Artyom said, not bothering to look at her. "Are all degenerates dead?"

"Twenty-two Lords and nineteen Ladies, counting the Carrow Twins," Emilia replied, walking over and standing on the other side of the bed. "We couldn't find the location of the Dark Lord, however… He's hidden himself well, most likely behind the Fidelius Charm." Emilia then looked to Ron. "How is he?"

"Sleeping, for change," Artyom replied, looking Emilia over. "Did any escape?"

"No," Emilia replied. "The windows and doors were sealed by Zolly, she placed the Unbreakable Charm on all potential exits. Some tried to flee upstairs, but the Sleeping Agent knocked them unconscious. We also scoured the grounds, and not a single track was found leaving the estate. Oh, and we found a stable full of tortured Centaurs, we Obliviated them just in case."

"Good," Artyom looked back to Ron, his expression unreadable. I don't understand this man whatsoever. Is he only driven by gold?

"Just good?" Emilia couldn't help but ask.

"Client will be pleased," Artyom said. "My feelings matter not."

"You don't approve of our actions, then?" Emilia asked, and Artyom gave her a cold look.

After a few seconds of silence, Artyom pulled back his left sleeve; revealing burn scars in the shape of a word on his inner forearm. Is that Russian? From the looks of it, he was branded a long time ago.

"What does it say?" Emilia asked, cocking her eyebrow.

"Mud-Blood," Artyom fixed his sleeve back into place, going back to watching over Ron. He's a Muggle-Born?! Now, I'm definitely curious.

"How does a Muggle-Born end up working as a mercenary?" Emilia asked. "A mercenary who caters specifically to Pure-Bloods, that is?"

"I had nowhere else to go," Artyom replied distantly. "Nothing left to go back to."

"It doesn't bother you to work for-?" Emilia started.

"You talk too much," Artyom cut her off. "Be silent, or, you will wake my client."

Emilia drew in a calming breath; she certainly didn't appreciate being spoken to with such disrespect in her own home. He's entitled to his privacy, Emilia, and given what he just showed you; you can at least assume that he won't betray Ron for masterminding this attack on the Dark Lord's followers.

Emilia Wandlessly summoned a chair, taking a seat and turning her attention towards Ron. He's as pale as the moon, I would even go as far as to say that he looks ill. Odd, the Healing Spring should've restored his colour… Maybe it's not as effective on his kind?

"Did you identify guests?" Artyom suddenly asked. "Client will want to know names." Why does he keep saying client instead of Ron? Or, Sir?

"Here," Emilia pulled out a slightly bloody note from her uniform.

"Which are British?" Artyom asked, pocketing the note without even looking at it.

"Crabbe, Goyle, Avery, Macnair-" Emilia began, but Artyom's head quickly jerked up, surprising her a little.

"Macnair? Walden Macnair?" Artyom asked, something flashing behind his eyes.

"He was one of the Dark Lord's most ardent followers," Emilia replied, while Artyom simply glowered. "Ron's… lightning bolt… ripped him in two. We found his legs buried beneath the rubble, while his torso was sent flying across the dining room by Ron's other Spell." It's been a while since I saw such an effective use of Wandless Magic. Ron is clearly more powerful than most wizards, and he's still only a child. I wonder if the rest of his kind are the same. If so, then we wizards are not the dominant species on Earth.

"Wizarding World is better off without Macnair," Artyom growled, reaching forward and tugging Ron's blanket back into place. Curious, though I doubt pushing him now will yield any answers.

Ron muttered something incoherent in his sleep, clearly agitated with whoever had fixed the blanket.

"As I was saying," Emilia started. "Herbert Crabbe, Bartholomew Goyle, Lord Avery Jnr, Walden Macnair, Lord Egbert Parkinson, Lord and Lady Flint, and Lord and Lady Selwyn were all killed."

"And Carrow Twins," Artyom added, nodding to himself. "This will cause turmoil for entire Wizarding World, not just Magical Britain."

"No doubt," Emilia nodded in agreement. "However, it also opens up a lot of the market within Magical Britain, and I'm certain that Ron understands this very well. If he plays his cards right, Ron could become one of the most powerful men in Magical Britain." That is if he can keep his alliance under control.

"What child is capable of such schemes?" Artyom asked, his left hand stroking his beard. This is no ordinary child, I promise you. The Dark Lord has angered the Devil himself, and now, he will pay dearly for it.

"You'd be surprised at what people are capable of if given enough purpose," Emilia said softly, remembering her own struggles throughout her life. "For some of us, the only path forward is littered with the dead."

"Then, let those dead be our enemies," Artyom said.

"Our?" Emilia asked Artyom.

"I thought he was greedy, violent fool; one who wanted power above other 'Lords'," Artyom explained. "But after tonight, after seeing who he wanted to fight against, who he wanted to protect with his own life… Strangers who he knows nothing about…" Artyom shook his head, frowning to himself. "Great War never ended, and I did not believe him until now."

"I take it that your opinion of him has changed, then," Emilia said.

"Pay, or, no pay… I will kill any who raise their wands against him," Artyom swore, his unblinking eyes never leaving Ron's pale face.

Emilia couldn't help but smile a little, it eased her mind to know that Ron was being watched over by a viscous bastard like Artyom of Russia. Ron's hasn't led me astray yet, and I trust him now more than ever. Perhaps it really is time to make our own organisation, one that isn't held back by the Order's weak mentality-

"Can you two stop your whispering?" Ron stirred again, opening one of his bloodshot eyes a little. "It's getting on my nerves… Fucking sod off, will you?" Fair enough, he's earned some sleep, no one can deny that.

Emilia and Artyom exchanged slow glances, both of them rising from their seats and heading towards the exit. Once they were outside, Artyom stopped Emilia by placing his heavy hand on her shoulder.

"Did you alert Aurors?" Artyom asked. "He had plan that needed to be followed."

"Oh, I alerted them," Emilia smirked. "Trust me, they won't be ignoring my 'invitation', I can promise that with absolute certainty."

"Good," Artyom gave a nod, going on guard duty in front of the door. "I will take him home before sunrise. No need to check on us."

"Very well," Emilia said. "I'll have some food sent over for you. Oh, and take a bath as well, I'm sure his parents won't appreciate you marching into their home looking like this."

---

Amelia Bones' POV

Saturday 20th February, 1994 (The Ministry – Past Midnight)

Amelia stepped into the Atrium, her eyes were still struggling to stay open after her brief, and long overdue, nap. The past few days had been so hectic that Amelia had only eaten three meals and slept a total of five hours, it was as if Magical Britain itself was trying to shove her into an early grave.

Her grief over losing her oldest friend didn't help either, she was starting to see Rufus everywhere she went. He'd say nothing to her, and whenever she tried to talk to him, he'd simply vanish. And if that wasn't enough, she knew that she couldn't confide in anyone about her latest dilemma; it would mean the end of her career given the Ministry's childish habit of gossiping about everything. She was well and truly alone, and that terrified her more than anything.

"Madam Bones," Kingsley suddenly stepped into her way, she was clearly incapable of minding her surroundings at the moment. This had better be good, or, I'll have Alastor's badge!

"Kingsley?" Amelia looked the Auror over, he was clad in his sleepwear. "Did Alastor contact you as well? Isn't it your night off?"

"He contacted everyone," Kingsley grimaced. "And for good reason…"

"And what reason would that be?" Amelia frowned, looking around the Atrium. "And what is that crowd by the fireplace?"

"That would be the reason," Kingsley gestured her to follow him. "Someone opened a floo connection from a private property right into the heart of the Ministry, but instead of coming through themselves, they sent a head in their stead."

"Wait… A head?" Amelia blinked, had she misheard him?

"Yes, Ma'am, a head," Kingsley replied, moving the crowd of night-shift workers out of their way. "And not just any head…"

As they reached the front of the crowd, Amelia's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Bartholomew Goyle's head sat on its side, his eyes were blood-red and his swollen tongue was sticking out of his bloodied lips. By the fucking Gods! What is this?!

"Kingsley-?"

"Alastor refused to let anyone touch it, he says that it might be Cursed," Kingsley explained, drawing in a sharp breath. "He called me here to 'disarm' it, and I just took over the scene from Tiberius. I was about to start my work when-"

"Where is Alastor himself?" Amelia demanded, suddenly turning around to face her fellow Ministry Officials. "Disperse at once! This is an active crime scene, not a circus! Go back to your work! Now!"

With a startle, the onlookers began to disband, not keen to face the brunt of her anger. Damn vultures. Amelia turned to face the head again, she honestly didn't know what to think right now. At this rate, I'm going to have a heart attack.

"Alastor, Tiberius, Gawain, Tonks, Rodney, Seth, and Maria went through the floo," Kingsley told her, rubbing his eyes harshly. "Sorry, I haven't slept in a while…" You and me both.

"Jane and her Hit-Wizards aren't back from assignment yet?" Amelia asked. "She was sent to capture three escapees, nothing more."

"She has a habit of being… thorough…" Kingsley replied, and then he leaned closer to her ear. "Amelia, this wasn't the Order, I swear it. We haven't convened even once since Albus was hospitalized."

"Could it be him?" Amelia had to ask.

"No…" Kingsley whispered ominously. "Go through the floo, please. I'm not sure about the details, but from what Tiberius briefly mentioned, it's safe to assume that he had nothing to do with this."

Amelia gave a nod and stepped over the head, walking right through the floo and entering private property on the other side. The moment she stepped out of the fireplace, her feet almost slipped due to the wet and sticky substance on the floor. Before she could even look down to see what had nearly tripped her, her eyes spotted the hanging corpses from the rafters. What…?

Her jaw dropped open, and all she could do was stare up in horror. Merlin save us, what happened here? A revolting stench filled her lungs, and although she covered her mouth and nose, it did little to help her shock. There were nearly a dozen headless, and a few limbless, bodies hanging side-by-side, all of them butchered in a manner that would horrify even the Dark Lord himself. Beneath each body was its respective head, their eyes gouged out and their tongues plucked out.

"You're finally here," came Alastor's voice from her right, startling her.

"Alastor… What is this?" Amelia tore her eyes away from the corpses. "Who would do such a thing?!"

"I honestly don't know," Alastor had a deep scowl plastered on his face. "Take a closer look at the heads, all of them are known associates of the Dark Lord."

Amelia drew in a sharp breath before looking back at the heads, and Alastor was dead right in his observation. Alecto Carrow, Egbert Parkinson, Lucas and Kimberly Flint… Even Lords and Ladies from other countries-

"You see how the eyes and tongues have been cut out?" Alastor asked, and she gave a dull nod.

"This is how the Death-Eaters executed Blood-Traitors and Muggle-Borns during the Great War," Amelia remembered, her own Family had suffered similar executions.

"Whoever did this… They have a twisted sense of humour," Alastor growled, scowling even more deeply. "Come, there's more that you need to see near the dining room."

"More?" Amelia asked in disbelief, following after Alastor.

"I'm not sure just yet, but I think we've finally stumbled into one of the Carrow Twins' 'secret' gatherings," Alastor gave his opinion. "Look at how the victims are all dressed, they were here to impress each other. Plus, given what's happening out there, these 'Lords' and 'Ladies' have plenty to celebrate." Who would target them in such a manner?

"Moody! Over here!" Tonks called, she and the other recruits were eyeballing a mountain of debris. "There are more corpses buried underneath the rubble. We're looking at least nine bodies-"

"Eight," Seth corrected, his face blanching. "Those are just legs… Gods… I'm going to be sick!"

"Look at the bloodstains," Rodney pointed by Amelia's feet. "Some were dragged away from the rubble." And executed in the greeting room. Not a hint of mercy was shown in this massacre.

"I found the torso," Maria called from the other side of the room. "It's Walden Macnair! Isn't he the Ministry's Executioner?!" He is, but he is also an old friend of the Carrow Twins.

"He was one of the Dark Lord's first Death-Eaters," Alastor whispered, and Amelia nodded along.

"Was this a hit against the Death-Eaters?" Amelia fixed her monocle in place, eyeing the bodies for clues. "Or, perhaps, just a hit against the Pure-Bloods attending the gathering?"

"Maybe they came for the Death-Eaters, but butchered everyone in their path?" Alastor proposed. "Either way, we need more information before we can come up with an answer. Personally, I'm leaning towards the Death-Eater theory. Why else would the attackers execute the guests in such a manner-?"

"Alastor!" Gawain came running over, stopping as soon as he saw Amelia. "Ma'am! You two need to come with me and see this right now!"

"What is it?" Alastor growled. "What's got you so riled up?"

"We found survivors down in the dungeons," Gawain explained. "By look of it, they're Muggles who were awaiting execution." Muggles?

"Lead the way," Amelia said, following after Gawain with Alastor in tow.

"How many Muggles?" Alastor asked Gawain.

"Tiberius and I counted over fifty," Gawain shot a grim look back. "That's just a rough number, though. Also, just by looking at them, we can assume that they were kidnapped from all over the Muggle World to avoid suspicion."

"These 'Carrow gatherings'… I've heard some truly disturbing rumours," Amelia started. "Rumours that suggest mass murder, rape, Dark Rituals, and all other manner of hedonism." We've never been able to prove a thing, however. Any time we tried to question them, we were stalled and bound by red-tape.

"Well, the rumours are looking more and more like fact," Gawain said. "Some of the Muggles look like they've been abused for weeks on end, some are even dead but were never disposed of." Merlin… What madness drove the Carrow Twins, and these other Pure-Bloods, to such depravity? Is this why they were targeted?

"The ones who attacked the estate, did they touch the Muggles?" Amelia questioned.

"From what we've seen, only the guests were attacked," Gawain replied, leading them into a hallway. "The dungeon entrance is right over there-"

"There's blood on the ceiling," Alastor stopped walking, his Magical Eye moving about madly.

Amelia observed the hallway as well, noticing that the walls and ceiling were damaged via blunt force. Someone was tossed around like a toy doll… That would require immense strength, or simply, the proficient use of the Levitation Charm. This is the handiwork of a skilled wizard or witch.

"Whose teeth are those?" Alastor frowned at the handful of yellow teeth by the entrance.

"Amycus Carrow's, I think," Gawain replied. "His body is down there, it's rather mangled-"

"Mangled?" Amelia asked.

"I need more time to inspect the body, but we can safely assume that he was thrown around this hallway," Gawain explained. "Tiberius and I also noticed injuries that suggest that he was beaten rather viciously, his legs were shattered and there are multiple bones sticking out of him. Tiberius thought that a Troll was responsible at first, but then we noticed the fixed expression on his face. His death came from a Killing Curse, which means that he was alive when he was being tortured."

"Good riddance…" Alastor muttered under his breath, but both Gawain and Amelia heard him. I agree, he murdered and tortured countless during the Great War, and no one could hold him accountable due to his Family's fortune. However, we can't just let this slide. Someone has taken the law into their own hands, and that makes them dangerous to the public.

"Alastor, we don't approve of vigilantism," Amelia said firmly. "You can have your opinions, but you work for the Ministry again. Whoever did this is a criminal, and we need to bring them to justice. All of them. Understand?"

Alastor said nothing, limping on ahead with a dark look on his face. His hatred of Dark Wizards rivals the Dark Lord's hatred of the Order. I need to keep him in check, he could undo our work by running his mouth without thinking.

"Down here, Ma'am," Gawain said, heading through into the dungeons.

Amelia followed the wizards inside, immediately picking up on the foul stench emanating from darkness. The stench was rather familiar to her, her long career had led her into plenty of dungeons. The smell of piss, shit, and death…

As she stepped into the damp dungeon, disgust and horror welled up inside her.

Tiberius was using his wand to illuminate the prisoners, the conditions they were being forced to endure were abysmal. Most of them were covered in dirt and dried blood, and judging from the smell, their own excrement as well. There are children in here. Slowly, Amelia turned her attention towards Amycus Carrow's broken corpse; a dark sneer marring her features. You got exactly what you deserve, fiend. I hope you're burning in Hell.

"This boy is alive," Tiberius turned around to look at Amelia, gesturing towards the boy who was chained up in the middle of the dungeon. "But they fucking branded his face, no doubt with a brand heated by Cursed Fire. There's nothing that can heal such a scar, he'll have to live with it forever."

"Fucking animals," Gawain spat out.

"We'll get to the bottom of this," Amelia promised her Aurors. I have to preserve the evidence before word of this gets to Fudge. He'll never let us pin this on the Old Families, it would cause riots within the streets. "Tiberius, run back to the Offices and grab a camera. Do it now, before Fudge and his cronies show up and contaminate the evidence. Go!"

"At once, Ma'am," Tiberius broke out of his anger, rushing out of the dungeon without another word.

"Gawain, do another head count," Amelia instructed. "Keep a record of the dead and the living, someone has to answer for this." If Crouch can get the details of Fudge's vaults from the Goblins, and we prove that Fudge has been taking bribes from these vile bastards, his career will be over within the day.

"Alastor, go find Crouch and bring him here," Amelia said. "I want this entire estate locked down, no one gets in or out without my permission."

"What of Fudge?" Alastor asked.

"I am the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Amelia replied. "In an active crime scene, I have authority over everyone. Including the Minister. Go, find Crouch before Fudge hears of this!"

---

Nymphadora Tonks' POV

Saturday 20th February, 1994 (The Carrow Twins' Estate – Past Midnight)

"Look, another trail of blood," Maria pointed out. "Someone was dragged up here."

Tonks, and her fellow recruits, were shaken to their very cores, no amount of training could have prepared them for the horrors within this estate. Tonks understood that many amongst the dead were known Death-Eaters and associates of the Dark Lord, but despite this, she couldn't bring herself to even remotely agree with such… barbarity.

Whoever was behind this; they were just as evil as the Dark Lord himself.

"The trail leads into this room," Rodney was first at the door. "Tonks? How do we proceed?"

Tonks drew in a sharp breath in order to gather her wits; her friends had been looking at her as their leader ever since the raid on Knockturn Alley. They think that, just because Madam Roberts chose me to become a Hit-Wizard, I'm not a recruit anymore.

"Seth, you're with me," Tonks started. "Maria, stand on the left and have your wand ready. Rodney, open the door and move out of the way, Seth and I will breach first."

They all moved into position without delay, and as soon as Rodney opened the door and hopped out of the way, Tonks and Seth moved into the room with their wands drawn. Oh, shit! What the fuck?!

"Clear…" Tonks muttered, going perfectly still as she saw a heavy man hanging from the ceiling by his ankles.

The Lord had been stripped naked, and there was a bloody gash where his genitals were supposed to be. They gelded this one… Why? The gruesome sight was enough to make Tonks regret her choice in career, but through sheer will, she managed to keep her composure. Her friends were looking at her to lead, and a good leader never lost their focus.

"Oh, Gods!" Seth rushed out of the room, the sounds of him vomiting were quick to follow.

"What's… What's carved into his chest…?" Maria managed, her wand hand trembling.

"Rapist…" Rodney read, his mouth hanging open.

Tonks looked around the room, her eyes spotting a child tied to a large bed with thick, black ropes. What in the hell…? For a few seconds, she couldn't believe what she was seeing, she desperately wanted her eyes to be mistaken. Unfortunately, when Maria let out a strangled gasp before rushing over to the facedown boy, Tonks knew perfectly well why this particular Lord had been castrated.

"He's still breathing!" Maria called, and both Tonks and Rodney rushed over.

The boy's lower half was covered with a blanket, and despite the blood stains on the bed, the boy supported no physical injuries whatsoever.

"He was healed by the attackers," Tonks noted.

"Healed? They left him tied to the fucking bed," Rodney hissed.

"They wanted us to see why they castrated the 'rapist'," Tonks explained, looking around for more clues. "Look over there… It's a flogger, and it's got blood on it. That would explain the stains on the bed-"

"Stop talking like that!" Maria suddenly snapped, jarring Tonks. "Stop it!"

"Maria… She's trying to figure out what happened here, just like we're supposed to," Rodney said, but Maria ignored him in favour of loosening the boy's bonds.

"What are you doing?" Tonks grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "You can't tamper with the evidence-"

Maria turned around and shoved Tonks away, her face twisting in righteous anger.

"Evidence?!" Maria shrieked, her eyes welling up. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"Stop it, you two," Rodney moved in-between them, looking just as bewildered as Tonks.

"I'm worried for him as well, Maria!" Tonks snapped back, making Maria flinch. "You think I don't know how you feel?! This is sick! It's fucking disgusting! But…" Tonks drew in another sharp breath. "But, if we don't do our jobs properly, then that bastard hanging over there could be painted as the victim. This poor boy is just a Muggle, which means that a lot of wizards won't even care about what's happened to him. We need proof, do you understand? We need actual Aurors to come up here and have a look for themselves. If you tamper…" Tonks trailed off, feeling lightheaded. "Just… Go wait outside…"

"Tonks?" Rodney put his hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?" I haven't slept properly since the raid… I never thought that I'd see so much death… So much blood.

"I'm okay," Tonks lied. "Just go get Moody, or, Gawain… Get someone else up here, please…"

"You don't look 'okay'," Rodney whispered. "Merlin, Tonks, you look sick-"

"I'm fine," Tonks hissed, feeling her blood boil. "Just do you're told, stop wasting what little time we have before the Minister rocks up and starts throwing his weight around." Just do your damn job, and let me do mine!

"Maria, let's go," Rodney sighed out, letting go of Tonks and taking a step back.

"Tonks… I'm sorry…" Maria apologized, looking quite ashamed of herself. "I… I don't know what came over me-"

"I don't care," Tonks cut her off. "Take Seth with you, I don't want him vomiting on the evidence."

Rodney and Maria exchanged worried glances, but neither of them argued. Silently, both recruits left the room, leaving Tonks alone with her thoughts. The moment they were gone, regret washed over Tonks. She knew that she should've taken the higher ground, Maria was clearly already upset and hadn't meant any harm, but now, none of that mattered. I'm an idiot… A really confused and scared idiot.

Tonks' hair took on a mousy-brown shade, her shoulders sagged, and she felt utterly devoid of hope. I shouldn't have become an Auror… I should've applied for a Healer's Apprenticeship like dad wanted me to. After shooting one last look at the boy and the hanging Lord, Tonks dragged herself out of the room in order to wait for her superiors. I could really use a drink…

---

Amelia Bones' POV

Saturday 20th February, 1994 (The Carrow Twins' Estate – Past Midnight)

"They were trying to escape into the ballroom," Gawain noted, while Amelia stared at the corpses piled up in front of the large door.

Debris, blood, urine, excrement, severed limbs, and spilled organs were on full display, painting a haunting image of what had transpired here. Most of them were trying to flee, but the attackers dropped the ceiling on them. After that, they were butchered amidst the chaos.

"Open the door, Gawain," Amelia instructed. "I want to look inside as well."

Gawain waved his wand, and the large door swung open. The two of them carefully walked over the corpses, neither of them cared that their clothes would need to be burned after this was done.

Inside the ballroom, there were more slaughtered guests; however, what caught Amelia's attention was the headless Centaur that was trotting about aimlessly. In all of her years, she had seen nothing like this. Even Gawain, who spent more time out in the field than any Auror, had been stunned into silence.

"Necromancy…" Gawain suddenly whispered, pointing towards four human bodies that Amelia had missed. Their heads are barely attached to their necks, but they're still walking around. Morgana's mercy, how could we ignore such wickedness for so long?

"Look at their clothes, Gawain," Amelia used her Occlumency to conquer her shock. "Tattered Muggle clothing, the attackers didn't bring them back from the dead. These Pure-Bloods were experimenting with Dark Magic, most likely for their amusement."

"These elitist bastards," Gawain snarled. "Have they lost all humanity?!" They only consider themselves human, no one else.

"Calm yourself," Amelia placed her hand on Gawain's tense shoulder. "The dead cannot feel your rage, it's the living that we need to turn our focus towards. How many friends of the Carrow Twins weren't in attendance tonight? A dozen? Two dozen? We have a chance to rip away the Dark Lord's support thanks to the attackers. I believe that they left behind all of this evidence for us to use, they even opened a floo connection so we'd find it." And from the looks of it, they didn't lay a finger on the captives. This massacre was well planned, and those who carried it out know what they're about.

"What happened to 'We don't support vigilantism'?" Gawain asked.

"We don't need to support it to take advantage of it," Amelia stated. "I don't care if this makes me a hypocrite, I will have answers for this… insanity…"

"Ma'am, I've got the camera," Tiberius interrupted them, stopping as soon as he saw the headless Centaur. "Fuck the Gods…"

"Tiberius, start taking photos," Amelia instructed. "We don't have much time-"

"The Minister is in the greeting room," Tiberius told her. Damn! "His Harpy is with him as well, though the gore has given them both a reason to pause."

"Gawain, don't let anyone into this room," Amelia marched out of the room. "I'll deal with the Minister and his pet toad."

As Amelia neared the greeting room once again, her Auror Recruits cut her off rather rudely. They looked shaken to their cores, though Amelia couldn't really fault them. They were still green, as Rufus always pointed out, and tonight, even Amelia's tenacity was being tested.

"Ma'am, there's something upstairs that you need to see," Maria said, nearly rushing into Amelia.

"What is it, Auror?" Amelia asked, her brow furrowed.

"We found a man… hanging by his ankles…" Seth murmured, his eyes hollow and his face devoid of colour.

"Speak clearly," Amelia frowned, causing Seth to shrink further. Control yourself, Amelia, he's barely more than a boy. "Take a second to catch your breath, Seth, and then, you can tell me what you all saw."

"One of the Lords in attendance was castrated and hung up like an animal, Ma'am," Rodney took over. "We also found a young boy tied to a bed in the same room, and from what we could gather, the castrated man was caught forcing himself on the boy. The attackers carved the word 'Rapist' into his chest before letting him bleed to death."

Amelia took off her monocle and rubbed her eyes, a torrent of guilt and disgust washed over her. How could I ignore this for so long? The rumours were there, Rufus constantly tried to break the law in order to get more information about these parties, but I always stepped in before he crossed the line. He… He was trying to stop this, but I kept getting in his way… Why did I do that?

She knew the answer to her question already; she didn't want Rufus to jeopardize her career with his unpopular methods. How many children have I condemned to death over my job…?

"Ma'am?" Rodney called again, giving her a light shake. "Ma'am, is everything all right?"

"Sorry… What were you saying?" Amelia asked, her throat tightening. Rufus, I could really use you right now. I've lost my way, and I need you to guide me back onto the path we started on together.

"I said that Tonks is gathering more clues upstairs, but she's waiting for a superior Officer to assist her," Rodney repeated. Tonks is up there alone? She certainly possesses a stronger stomach than her fellow recruits. I should keep my eyes on her progress.

"Tiberius and Gawain are in the ballroom," Amelia said. "Bring this to them, I have another matter to attend to."

"Understood, Ma'am," Rodney gave a nod, gesturing his friends to follow him. Rodney is also coming into his own. Good, we need capable Aurors now more than ever.

Amelia continued on her way, eventually spotting Alastor, Crouch, Kingsley, Fudge, and Umbridge by the hanging bodies. Further down, near the fireplaces, there was a horde of Ministry Officials taking photographs and waiting on the Minister to give them instructions. I need to get rid of these fools before they tamper with any evidence.

"Who brought all of these unauthorised personnel into my crime scene?!" Amelia demanded, her voice booming over the crowd and silencing everyone. "Alastor, escort them off the premises at once."

"You heard her, clear out before I throw you lot in the Ministry Dungeons!" Alastor barked. "Only Aurors are allowed to-"

"Hem hem," Umbridge cleared her throat, 'smiling' at Alastor. "The Minister himself brought these good people-"

"As per Ministry Law, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has authority over all Ministry personnel in active crime scenes," Crouch cut her off, and then he turned his focus on the Minister's lackeys. "Return to your night shifts, you have no reason to be here in the first place."

The workers looked towards Fudge for direction, which boiled Amelia's blood. He's turned the Ministry into his own circus!

"Alastor, arrest them for obstruction of justice," Amelia ordered, she was done playing this ridiculous game.

"Gladly," Alastor growled, his Magical Staff glowing orange as his overwhelming Magic filled the room. Gods, it's like standing in front of the sun.

As expected, when faced by Alastor Moody himself, the crowd quickly began to disperse, much to Fudge and Umbridge's ire.

"You cannot threaten-" Fudge started.

"Why are you even here, Minister?" Amelia asked. "Last I checked, interrupting my Aurors' work wasn't a part of your job description."

"We are here because of this," Umbridge pointed towards the hanging bodies. "These Lords and Ladies are of noble birth; we want to help bring the perpetrators to justice!" Oh, I believe that justice has already been carried out tonight.

"The Ministry must be united, Amelia… Now more than ever," Fudge urged. "Your… insubordination… has caused nothing but disfunction amidst our ranks. It needs to stop-"

"Your carelessness and lack of ethics has landed us here, Fudge," Crouch said coldly. "You have abused your Office repeatedly, and now, it's all catching up with you."

"You have grown bold, old man," Umbridge told Crouch. "And you certainly have no right to speak of carelessness… Wasn't your own son serving the Dark Lord right underneath your nose?"

Silence filled the greeting room, even Fudge was staring at Umbridge in utter disbelief for bringing up such a tabooed topic. As for Crouch, the tall man had lost any hint of expression on his face. Vile woman, I'll have you chased out of my Ministry with dogs! Crouch suddenly took a step forward, clearly intent on doing something foolish, but Alastor gripped his arm and whispered something into his ear.

"The night's tragedies are clearly bringing out the worst in us," Kingsley broke the silence, looking towards Amelia. "Perhaps Madam Umbridge and the Minister should return home for the night so that we may do our work?" I can always rely on Kingsley to keep his cool, and he's not wrong. We can't work with these two trampling all over the crime scene.

"I agree," Amelia looked towards Fudge. "My report will be on your desk in the morning. Until then, let the Department of Magical Law Enforcement do its job. If you really want to put an end to the Ministry's division, you will let me do my job in peace."

"And how can we trust you after what you've done?" Umbridge questioned, a sneer plastered on her face. After what I've done?

"Dolores," Fudge stopped his attack dog, his eyes fixed on Amelia. "I want a full report on this, not a single detail will be kept from me." He wants to save his own hide, as usual. After all, a few of the slaughtered were buying favours from him.

Amelia said nothing in response, simply giving Fudge a nod.

"Surely, Cornelius, you do not trust her, do you?" Umbridge asked, once again sounding personally offended.

"I expect you to bring these murderers to justice, Amelia," Fudge turned around to leave. "This is going to cause a scandal unlike any we've seen before." Something tells me that those who are behind this butchery would love nothing more.

With a distrusting look on her face, Umbridge followed Fudge through the fireplace; leaving Amelia with the only reliable Officials left within the Ministry.

"They took photos, Amelia," Alastor told her. "The Daily Prophet will twist the facts in order to make these degenerates look like the victims."

"Regardless of what has happened here, we still need to find the ones behind the attack," Amelia said. "This lawless vigilantism must be condemned, or, others will be inspired to do the same." Amelia then looked to Crouch. "Has Alastor filled you in?"

"Indeed, he has," Crouch frowned to himself. "We spent years trying to find proof of the Carrow Twins' barbarity, but all of our endeavours bore no fruit."

"We had to follow protocol," Kingsley said. "Whoever is behind this, they are no better than the Carrow Twins and their friends. We need to bring them to justice as quickly as we are able."

"Our first priority should be to control the story," Crouch said, looking to Amelia. "Fudge will do everything in his power to distance himself from these 'noblemen'. And given how quickly his support is dwindling, this will be the final nail in his coffin."

"How so?" Amelia asked. "Did you convince the Goblins to hand over his records?"

"No, but I'm very close to it," Crouch replied. "The Goblins can see that change is on the horizon, and as always, they want to back the winner. I say that we cut a deal with them."

"What sort of deal?" Alastor asked. "Goblins cannot be trusted; each one is viler than the last."

"We can trust their greed," Amelia said. "They have many deals with Fudge, and I'm certain that if we agree to honour said deals once Fudge is ousted, they'll be more open to negotiations."

"I will speak to them tomorrow," Crouch said. "Do I have your permission to share this with the Head of Gringotts?"

"If you can make sure that he keeps his silence, you have my permission," Amelia replied, she had no choice but to compromise on this. "As for the Daily Prophet… We'll need our own source of media to report the truth; otherwise, these Lords and Ladies will become martyrs." I must reach out to Ronald, he's our best chance of controlling the narrative.

"Ronald Weasley could help us with this," Kingsley suggested. "Though, I'm not sure if we should show such… evil… to a child." Ronald has a strong mind and he adheres to good principles, which is more than I can say for the Daily Prophet.

"We don't have a choice," Alastor growled. "That boy has already kicked the hornet's nest repeatedly, it's time he puts his money where his mouth is."

"I will speak to him tomorrow," Amelia said. "I expect that he'll have demands of his own, he's too clever not to."

"Just give him what he wants," Crouch advised. "These criminals deserve to be seen for what they really are, and we need Fudge gone before he does any more lasting damage to our Ministry."

"What of Albus?" Alastor asked. "He needs to be made aware of this-"

"Why?" Crouch asked, his dislike of Albus Dumbledore coming through. "He's the Headmaster of Hogwarts, what business does he have with Ministry affairs?"

"He's also the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot," Kingsley countered. "Not to mention that he's the greatest Sorcerer to ever exist."

"He's never taken his position of Chief Warlock seriously," Crouch scoffed. "And being 'the greatest Sorcerer to ever exist' does not entitle him to anything in my eyes." This was an attack on the Dark Lord's allies, Dumbledore needs to know about this.

"He has to know, Crouch," Amelia said firmly. "I will hear no argument on this, his counsel is always wise, and right now, we could use his wisdom on our side."

"He also has the love of the people," Kingsley added. "That alone could prove most useful." Who is Kingsley truly loyal to? The Ministry, or, the Order? Crouch is right about one thing; Dumbledore's constant meddling weakens the Ministry's authority. We need to be careful going forward, I believe that we've reached the climax of our struggles.

"Alastor, pay a visit to Barnabas Cuffe," Amelia started. "Tell him that if the Daily Prophet reports on this without my permission, I'll have his staff arrested for damaging our investigation."

"What if he doesn't listen?" Alastor asked.

"Make him listen, then," Amelia ordered, and Alastor limped away without delay. "Kingsley, you need to get in touch with Severus Snape, I'm told that the Healers of St. Mungo's have given him complete control over Dumbledore's recovery."

"I'll set up an appointment with the Head of Gringotts," Crouch said, following after Alastor.

"Shouldn't I help with this first?" Kingsley asked. "I can get in touch with Snape in the morning-"

"Tiberius, Gawain, and I can handle this," Amelia stopped him. "Once we have everything we need, I will bring our findings directly to Dumbledore."

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 20th February, 1994 (Greengrass Manor – Early Morning)

"Avada Kedavra!"

Ron woke up with a jerk, putting his arms up in order to defend himself. What the fuck?! Where am I?!

"You were having nightmare," came Artyom's heavy voice from his right.

"Bloody hell!" Ron jumped from fright, shooting a frown at his overly attached bodyguard. "Why are you sitting around in my room whilst I'm asleep? Isn't that a little too 'protective'?"

"You have explanations to give," Artyom reminded Ron, his chair leaning against the wall. "I want to know reason behind that slaughter."

"I already told you, didn't I?" Ron sat up properly, rubbing his eyes clear. "They were going to help the Dark Lord, not to mention what they were doing to those Muggles. They needed to be stopped, so I did what was necessary."

"You are only boy," Artyom stated. "Why do you feel need to meddle in such affairs? What is your motive? Speak truth." He's so loud… Fucking hell, I haven't even washed my face yet.

"Relax, please," Ron sighed out. "At least let me take a shower first-"

"No," Artyom said, earning a slightly puzzled look from Ron.

"No?" Ron asked. "Mate, I'm not going to run off on you."

"You will explain yourself," Artyom narrowed his eyes.

"Fine… Just calm down a little, eh?" Ron started. "I went after the Carrow Twins because they were a threat to other people, you saw what they were doing last night, didn't you? It was fucking twisted."

Artyom gave a nod, gesturing Ron to move on. There, now I just need to be careful about what I share. I can't fully trust this bloke, he's only after my gold.

"What else do you want to know?" Ron asked.

"Why do you chase after Dark Lord?" Artyom demanded. "How do you even know of him?"

"You saw my scars yesterday, didn't you?" Ron asked. "When you were helping dunk me into the water with that Elf? I almost drowned, you know?"

"It was to help you," Artyom said dully, not even acknowledging the scars. I'm sure he has a few of his own that he doesn't like to talk about.

"I'm sure it was," Ron mimicked Artyom's voice. "I ought to complain about your bedside manners-"

"Answer my questions, boy," Artyom warned, looking ready to throttle Ron.

"I am, you interrupted me," Ron said, secretly enjoying the rise he got out of Artyom. "The Dark Lord gave me those scars, at the end of my first year of Hogwarts." The Dark Lord and the Entity, the two cunts who have ruined my life.

"Dark Lord attacked you? At Hogwarts?" Artyom questioned. "How is this possible? What of Albus Dumbledore? Does Dark Lord no longer fear him?" The old man was baiting the Dark Lord in, I was just the moron who wound up in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"A lot of people made mistakes, including me," Ron summarized plainly. "I was left in a coma after the attack, which I'm sure you know about."

"It is said that you fooled around with Dark Magic, which later turned on you," Artyom said.

"That's a lie," Ron felt his mood sour a little. "I'm not that stupid, all right? I was trying to do the right thing, even if I went about it in the wrong way." I shouldn't have gone down there myself, I should've told a Professor about my suspicions.

"You want revenge, then?" Artyom asked, and Ron drew in a deep breath.

"I do," Ron confessed. "And there is nothing wrong with that. You-Know-Who has killed thousands of people, and he no doubt plans to kill thousands more. Someone has to put him down, and so far, I'm the only one who's managed to hurt him."

"I still do not understand you," Artyom said. "What are you not telling me?"

"What's your problem?" Ron asked, getting fed up with the interrogation. "I don't need to make sense to you, Artyom. You don't see me digging into your personal affairs and feelings, do you? I want the Dark Lord gone, and that's that. Isn't that enough for you?"

"You left fighting behind last night," Artyom reminded him. "You went to protect Muggles in dungeon. Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'?" Ron asked, sliding out of the bed. "They were the priority, remember? I told you that we needed to save them first, which is why we didn't use any poisonous gas in the first place." Fuck this, I'm taking a shower. I'm in no state to answer a barrage of personal questions. "Can you just get a suit ready for me?"

"Jürgen knows we left manor last night," Artyom said, backing off for now. "He has told Lord Greengrass."

"I imagine we'll have a chat soon, then," Ron said, feeling some remorse. I was so angry with the Carrow Twins, but that doesn't justify how I treated Lord Greengrass. I even threatened his wife. Damn… I might be dead by the end of the day.

"Here," Artyom held out a piece of parchment, there was some crusted blood on it.

"What is that?" Ron asked.

"Letter from Lady Travers," Artyom replied. "Names of dead men and women." Really? Let's see!

Ron took the letter and opened it, his eyes scanning each name on the long list. Crabbe, Goyle, the Flints, the Selwyns, and even Parkinson… I've really gone and orphaned my own House-mates, haven't I? Ron drew in another deep breath, using his Occlumency to centre himself. It had to be done, those bastards made their choices long ago. Now, it's up to me to make sure that my House-mates don't end up joining the Dark Lord's cause. Slytherin won't be providing Death-Eaters this time around, I'll make sure of it.

"I'm going to go have my shower, now," Ron headed towards the bathroom. I'll also get rid of this letter. I can assume that Emilia also cleaned up after herself. "Remember to keep your silence, Artyom. Otherwise, we'll both end up in Azkaban. You're just as guilty of this as I am."

"I understand," Artyom said, his expression unreadable. It's going to be a long couple of days, I'd best get started.

---

Saturday 20th February, 1994 (Greengrass Manor – Morning)

Ron finished styling his hair, he hadn't failed to notice how pale his complexion had become. I used the Killing Curse; I'm a proper Dark Wizard now. Maybe that's why I look like a ghost? Is there even a connection between the two? I'll think about this later, I should focus on getting through the day for now.

After drinking down his Pain-Relief Potion and Nutrition Potion, Ron headed out of the bathroom. I should brush my teeth after drinking the potions, not before. Fuck, the taste is wretched…

"Ready to go?" Ron asked Artyom, who was standing by the door.

"Ready," Artyom replied dully, opening the door.

"I'm going to need you to run a couple of errands for me today," Ron said. "Is that all right?"

"As long as you stay home," Artyom replied. "Did you destroy evidence?"

"Yes," Ron whispered. "Now, let's never talk about that again, eh? As far as we know, nothing's changed."

"Then, let us hope your plan works," Artyom said. It'll work, it has to. Madam Bones will come to me. The Daily Prophet can't be trusted, and no other magazine will be keen to associate with this mess given their audiences. This only leaves The Quibbler; Madam Bones will see that.

As they neared the stairs, they came face-to-face with Jürgen and a dozen of his men. The sharp-toothed wizard quickly moved into Ron's way, forcing the younger wizard to stop. He did that on purpose.

"Oi, watch where you're going," Ron frowned, taking a step back.

"Lord Greengrass would like a word with you," Jürgen said in his raspy voice, his wild, black hair covering most of his face. "He's asked me to escort you to him, and I should warn you, I'm allowed to use force. Oh, and I'm certainly hoping I have to." Really? He's threatening me? Actually, we're rather outnumbered here.

"Are you making threats, Jürgen?" Artyom asked coldly.

"Can we not start a brawl before breakfast?" Ron asked Artyom, and then he looked Jürgen over. I could take him, especially from this distance. "Look, we'll go with you, but don't make threats. I will clock you if you do it again."

"He'll clock you, Sir," one of Jürgen's men laughed. I'll clock you as well, cunt.

"Come with me, boy," Jürgen joined in on the laughter, leading the way down with his mercenaries. "Where did these civilized people find you? Did the rest of you hear him? He's got no manners!"

"Your friend is a cunt," Ron whispered to Artyom, ignoring the laughter around them.

"He is not my friend," Artyom whispered back, eyeballing Jürgen's mercenaries. "We must be careful around him. He is clever, but has short temper." You mean he's dangerous. Well, at least I'll be away from Jürgen before long. Lord Greengrass won't let me stay here after how I spoke to him, and avoiding him is no longer an option. It's time to face the music.

---

Sebastian Greengrass' POV

Saturday 20th February, 1994 (Greengrass Manor – Morning)

Ron stood quietly in place, which informed Sebastian that the young wizard had somewhat come to his senses. It's been five minutes, and he hasn't said a word so far. He's waiting for me to speak this time around. Sebastian appreciated the gesture, but he wasn't in a forgiving mood this morning, not after Ron had threatened Mary.

The boy needed to be held accountable, his ever-increasing rage was starting to poison everyone around him.

"You did not let me speak during your rant," Sebastian finally broke the silence, looking up from his work. "You spat out your bile without any thought, you threatened Mary and myself, and then, you ran off without hearing my side of things. You've judged me unfairly, Ron, and for that, there will be consequences. I will not tolerate this new behaviour of yours."

"We have all tried to be patient with you, but you have no intention of seeing reason," Sebastian went on. "I opened up to you, gave you shelter, treated you as my own blood, and even now, I'm trying to help you. You, who threatened my wife, are very lucky, but that luck is starting to run out."

"I'm sorry for saying those things," Ron apologized, bowing his head. "I was displacing my anger at the Carrow Twins-"

"Be silent," Sebastian ordered, stopping Ron short.

The sight of Ron biting his tongue back angered Sebastian, he didn't believe that Ron was sorry at all. I know that kind of anger, it's a stain that never leaves. He'll end up burning himself out.

"There will be no forgiveness this time, Ron," Sebastian got out of his chair. "You cannot live under my roof, not after threatening harm upon me and mine." Your Family can deal with you, I've done my part. "Pack your things, and leave before Mary returns from her greenhouses. She's treated you like a son, and you threw that away. Shame on you, Ron."

"I'll go, but you need to hear me out first," Ron said. "This is important." What now?

"What is important?" Sebastian demanded.

"Jürgen told you that I disappeared last night, didn't he?" Ron asked, and Sebastian gave a nod. "I went to the Carrow Twins' illegal party, I destroyed-"

"What did you say?" Sebastian's breath hitched. "What have you done, Ron?" Please, by all the Gods, let him be joking-

"They were butchering Muggles for sport," Ron answered, nearly stopping Sebastian's heart. "The things they were doing, the things they planned to do… Someone had to stop them for good. They were a threat to every person living, Magical or not-"

"You've brought this into my home?!" Sebastian heard himself bellow; he was certainly grateful for the Silencing Charm on the walls. "How much blood have you shed and dragged into my home, Ron?!" There will be no going back from this!

"The less you know, the better," Ron started, still keeping secrets and putting everyone at risk. "I'm only telling you now because you're going to figure it out anyway-"

Sebastian had had enough, he could no longer stand by and let Ron destroy everything. Conquering his fear of the younger wizard's rage, Sebastian swiftly moved around the table, and just as Ron looked up; Sebastian struck him across the face. He cannot stay here! Given my history with the Aurors' Department, that lot will blindly put the blame on me! Or, worse, on my wife and daughters!

Ron stood there with a surprised look on his face, it was as if he didn't even feel any soreness from his reddening cheek. Idiot boy, you have started a war! And you did it from my home! How many did you murder?!

"Get out," Sebastian barely stopped himself from smacking Ron again. "You are an ill omen, Ron… An ill omen! Do you not understand what you've done? They will never stop hunting you down for this, and everyone around you will get dragged into the fighting. The Aurors, the Dark Lord, even the Order… They'll all be looking for you, now."

"No one is going to suspect me," Ron spoke up, his voice rougher on the ears. "I was careful-"

"You think that's what I'm angry about?! That you weren't 'careful' enough?!" Sebastian lost his temper again, smacking Ron twice; once on the side of the head, and then, near his eye. "You've committed multiple acts of murder! You're a wanted criminal, now, Ron! You've destroyed your life!"

"Stop fucking smacking me!" Ron shoved Sebastian back. "Will you just listen?!"

"How many was it, Ron?" Sebastian asked, trying to use his Occlumency to calm himself down. "How much damage are we looking at here?" How did he even pull this off? What am I dealing with here?

"Twenty-two Lords and nineteen Ladies, the Twins included," Ron confessed, fixing his tie back into place. May the Gods forgive me, I have been hosting the Devil himself… What am I going to do about him?

"You goddamn…" Sebastian felt his hands tighten into fists, his very soul trembling because of the conflict in his heart. "You've undone us all, they'll follow you right up to my doorstep." Be rid of him, Sebastian, he's dead weight now. "Get out of my house-"

A sudden knock at the door stopped him, only his Occlumency kept him anchored enough to concentrate. Who could have business with him so early in the morning? His schedule was empty, he had promised to look after Susana for the day. Take off the Silencing Charm, and figure out what's going on. Deal with Ron afterwards. Sebastian pulled out his wand and undid the one-way Silencing Charm with a flick.

"What is it?" Sebastian called, gesturing Ron to keep his mouth shut. Don't give me that look, boy. I will hit you again.

"There are Aurors here, they're asking to speak with you and Mr. Weasley," Jürgen answered. Oh, Gods…

Ron pulled a face, having the audacity to look mildly troubled. How could they be here so quickly?! Did he leave them a sign with our faces painted on it?! It's over… I always feared that it would come to this.

"Stay here," Sebastian ordered Ron, moving towards the door. "If you do exactly as I say, we might yet avoid capture." I must take him, Mary, and the girls away. Jürgen can go fetch Daphne and Astoria while I prepare our escape-

"I'm coming with you," Ron stepped into his way. "You look like you're about to tattle on me." What have I done to earn this lack of trust? I've given this boy everything…

"By every right, I should," Sebastian hissed. "The Aurors have already found you, Ronald. Why shouldn't I protect my Family from your insanity?"

"They want my help," Ron said calmingly. "Just listen to me, will you? We'll go together, and you can see for yourself. They need The Quibbler on their side, just wait and see."

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 20th February, 1994 (Greengrass Manor – Morning)

Ron entered the greeting room first, followed quickly by Lord Greengrass. Their little scuffle was already forgotten, they both had to be on the same page now. I didn't expect him to hit me, though. And it wasn't just one smack, he went in for seconds. I should just move past it, for now; he's clearly shaken by everything.

Mad-Eye, Tonks, and Arthur were speaking to each other in hushed whispers near the fireplaces, and Ron and Lord Greengrass neared, Mad-Eye suddenly turned around to face Ron. Take control of the conversation, Ron.

"Hello," Ron greeted the new Head-Auror. "Did Madam Bones send you to find me?"

Mad-Eye and Tonks exchanged looks, while Arthur made his way over to Ron.

"They just told me that you're being put on trial, Ron," Arthur started. "Fudge has finally lost his damn mind! Why didn't you tell us about this?!" Because I don't need you whining in my fucking ear, what help can you even offer anyway?

"What gives you the idea that Amelia wants to see you?" Mad-Eye growled, trying to catch Ron's eyes.

"She and I were working together, remember?" Ron looked to Tonks. "To show everyone Fudge's real face?" Just act like you normally would, Ron. Nothing happened last night.

"Oh, yes, I remember that," Tonks said, shooting Mad-Eye a nod.

"I've been waiting to hear back from her, especially given my upcoming trial," Ron said, smiling at Mad-Eye. "So? Did she send you? I could really use a minute of her time."

"Consider yourself lucky, then," Mad-Eye fixed his stare at Ron's suit, what remained of his lips thinned into a frown. "Your suit… It's quite peculiar." Huh?

"It is?" Ron asked, keeping his composure. "How so?"

"I can't fully see through it," Mad-Eye replied, suddenly looking into Ron's eyes. Shit. "The suit is causing disruptions with my Magical Eye. Care to explain that?"

Before Mad-Eye could potentially use Legilimency on Ron, the younger wizard turned his attention back to Tonks. Why did they have to send Mad-Eye fucking Moody here?

"Materials from Magical Creatures have strange properties, this suit is Muggle in look only," Ron said, adding an arrogant undertone to his voice. "But truth be told; it was expensive, so I bought it."

Ron had expected a chuckle out of Tonks, but the witch continued to stare at him in a distant manner. There's blood on her shoes. She's seen what I've seen.

"Auror Tonks, are you unwell?" Lord Greengrass asked. "You look… peaky."

"It's been a long night," Mad-Eye grunted, gesturing Ron to follow him towards the active fireplace. "This is urgent, you had best start walking, boy."

"Alastor, just tell me what's going on?" Arthur spoke up, looking between Ron and Mad-Eye. "Why did you ask me to bring you here? And what does Madam Bones want with my son?" They haven't wrapped me in chains yet, so I can assume that Madam Bones doesn't suspect me. This is good, things are going as planned.

"We will bring him home within the hour," Tonks told Lord Greengrass.

"What about me?" Lord Greengrass asked. "Did you not ask to see me as well?"

"He is living under your roof, we had to get your permission," Tonks replied.

"Well, you don't have my permission, then," Lord Greengrass said, stopping everyone in the room. What are you doing? What the fuck are you doing? "I'm either coming with you, or, Ron stays right here." What?!

"Greengrass…" Mad-Eye turned around with a deep frown. "We don't have time for your grandstanding-"

"I don't trust you, especially given Ron's upcoming trial," Lord Greengrass interrupted. "I am coming with you, and so is Arthur. The boy isn't old enough to act without supervision." Excuse me?

Ron drew in a deep breath, picturing Stoatshead Hill and the peaceful plains around it. He's angry with me, and he no longer trusts me, so I can understand where he's coming from, but I can't have him moving against me. What if he talks about me like that to our mutual allies? What am I going to do about this?

"They can just wait on the fourth floor," Tonks suddenly said. Fourth floor? "They're in the Order, Moody. Dumbledore might want to see them." Dumbledore? He's awake?

"Tonks," Mad-Eye hissed, jerking his head towards Ron. Oh, don't mind me, mate, I don't know anything about the Order.

"He already knows," Arthur said, keeping his distance from Ron. "We told him."

"Oh, yes… You all told your children," Mad-Eye looked Ron over again. "Tell me, boy, do you plan to join the Order one day?" Don't laugh at him, Ron. That Magical Staff looks really dangerous up-close.

"Alastor," Arthur said warningly. "Don't put ideas into his head."

"It's a simple question, Arthur," Mad-Eye said, keeping his eyes on Ron. "Well? Have you given it any thought?"

"I've thought about it," Ron admitted. "Though, right now, I have to protect myself from the Ministry. I won't be much help if they break my wand."

"That won't happen, Ron," Arthur quickly assured him. "Dumbledore won't let the Wizengamot do something so stupid, you have to know that." The Headmaster doesn't give a fuck about his role within the Wizengamot, not to mention that he's out of commission as far as I know.

"Fudge has lost his mind," Tonks spoke her mind. "To blame you, of all people, for his own blunders-"

"Tonks, enough," Mad-Eye snapped. "Just get them through the floo." There are Aurors on my side, this is looking even better than I had hoped. Just keep playing along, no one has any reason to suspect you of any wrongdoing.

Tonks led them through the floo, but instead of ending up within the Ministry, they all stepped into St. Mungo's. Why are we at the hospital? Are we going straight to Dumbledore? Ron had to draw in a calming breath, he had to remain vigilant from this point on. The old man was sharper than Godric's Sword, and by now, he had definitely pieced everything together. He won't give me up, he knows about the Cycles. Just stay on guard, Ron. Use the cards dealt to you, and just come out in one piece.

"Is Dumbledore involved in this?" Arthur asked Tonks. "Can you not share anything, Tonks?"

"Look, something horrible has happened, and Madam Bones needs Ron's help," Tonks whispered quickly, looking a bit cross. "That's all I know. Now, stop asking me questions that will get me in trouble. I'm still being assessed, Arthur."

"Tonks, is everything all right?" Arthur pressed on, looking worried over the younger witch. "When was the last time you got any sleep? Your mother and father are worried about you-"

"Arthur, leave it," Lord Greengrass advised. "She's on duty, let her stay focused on her work."

"Why are there so many people in here?" Ron suddenly asked as they entered the waiting room, which had been Magically Extended to withstand the flood of patients. I know those blank looks; these were the Muggles and Muggle-Borns locked inside the cages. The Aurors were forced to bring them here? Makes sense, they probably don't have many Healers at the Ministry.

"Merlin's beard," Arthur muttered, looking around with wide-eyes. "What's happened to these people? They look like they're all Inferi."

"Some of them are branded," Lord Greengrass pointed out. "And their clothes are definitely Muggle." He's playing along, thank fuck.

"Was there an 'accident'?" Arthur asked not-so subtly. "Is it him?"

"Something of the sort," Tonks sighed out, her hair shortening by itself. They're safe now, I'm really glad that Emilia kept her word. She and I make for quite the duo.

"Does this remind you of the good old days, Greengrass?" Mad-Eye limped up from behind them, overtaking Lord Greengrass rather rudely. "You're quite familiar with 'Branding', aren't you? Standing here must give you all manner of ideas." What's his problem? He's being a right cunt.

"Move on from it, Alastor," Arthur was the first to speak out. "We don't even know what's going on here."

"Dumbledore trusts him, Moody," Tonks added. "Why do you always antagonize everyone around you? We're all on the same side." I'm glad that at least one person understands that. The Dark Lord is everyone's enemy, and his followers are just as vile as him. We need to be hunting them down constantly, like the rodents they are.

"Will all of these people get treated?" Ron asked, ignoring the staring contest between Lord Greengrass and Mad-Eye. "Does St. Mungo's even have enough Healers?"

"They'll get treated," Tonks replied. "Madam Bones gave me her word; she needs to fix them all up before handing them over to the Muggle Governments."

"The Muggles are going to be pissed," Ron realized. I didn't think this part through. Fucking brilliant.

"The Wizarding World needs Professor Dumbledore back," Tonks said, looking around the waiting room one more time. "Only he can clean up this mess." He helped create this mess, I'm the one cleaning it up.

"You're right," Ron put on an encouraging smile. "The Headmaster will sort all of this out, I'm sure of it." He'd better muster his strength and show up at my trial, I need the Chief Warlock on my side. I will not get punished for doing the right thing, the Headmaster better understand that.

---

Albus Dumbledore's POV

Saturday 20th February, 1994 (St. Mungo's – Morning)

"They cut out the eyes and tongues, Albus," Amelia showed him a picture, it was a ghastly thing to wake up to. "They even cut off Alecto Carrow's toes and fingers before killing her, they were surely torturing her for information."

His old bones ached constantly, but other than that, he had been recovering well, but now, he was bearing witness to unspeakable atrocities. And the worst part is, I already know who's behind this horror. He's completely given in to his anger, and in my absence, he has run rampant.

"Albus, are you listening?" Amelia asked.

"Give him a moment," Severus said icily. "His senses have yet to adjust."

"I don't have time for him to adjust," Amelia pushed the pictures into Albus' lap. "This is Chief Ruven's head, he was trying to get more lands for his herd-"

"He is an old friend," Albus remembered fondly, his head felt so heavy. "He taught me much about the stars, and he has a lovely singing voice, if I do say so myself."

"See?" Severus drawled. "He is in no position to do your job for you."

"Does the Order have anything that it needs to share with me?" Amelia asked bluntly. "What about the two of you? Are you hiding something from me?" Ronald… He butchered so many. I need to find my centre, get a hold over myself.

Albus began to focus his mind, sitting up and taking a look at the photos. Concentrating on an object helped immensely, and after Severus handed Albus his half-moon spectacles; Albus could finally calm down his mind. Ruven was murdered in such a horrible way?

"What of Ruven's body?" Albus asked.

"Albus, are you up to this?" Severus asked. "Poppy sent me with clear instructions. You need to be resting."

"I have rested enough, my friend," Albus replied confidently. I could use a Pain-Relief Potion, though. "Amelia? What of Ruven's body?"

"It was brought back as an Inferius," Amelia replied, her tone devoid of emotion. Brought back as an Inferius? Oh, Ruven… You did not deserve such disrespect. "We had to burn the body down, there's no other way to kill such an abomination."

"Drunk Lords and Ladies meddling in Necromancy," Severus said resentfully. "They've become emboldened over the years." The Twins were always beyond help, everything I tried failed. They were in love with cruelty, destroying beauty was their only goal. Still, they did not deserve such an end. So much blood has been shed, and more will surely follow.

"Their debauchery shames the entire country," Amelia stated. "However, the threat of a barbaric army is far worse. Whoever was behind this attack needs to be found, the Ministry can't let this slide." Ronald has not only broken the camel's back, but he's also broken its limbs and neck. Tom will seek vengeance for this, while the Aurors will keep hunting him until they catch him.

"Tell me everything, Amelia," Albus said, looking towards the boxes she had brought over. I must divert suspicion away from Ronald, as he is necessary for the Cycle's success, but I will not allow him to keep traveling down this path.

---

One Hour Later

Ronald was finally let into the room, and Albus' eyes were immediately fixed on him. First, Albus checked to make sure that Ronald himself was unharmed, and thankfully, other than a sickly complexion, he looked like his usual self. With Ronald's health considered, Albus focused on Ronald's body language. He's walking straight as an arrow; his guard is definitely up. He really did it, then.

"Headmaster, it's good to see you awake," Ronald greeted, a practised smile on his face. You've crossed the line this time, Ronald.

"It is good to be awake, Ronald," Albus greeted back. "I feel as though it's been an age since I was first brought here. So much has happened since then, correct?"

"I'll be outside, Ma'am," Tiberius said to Amelia, while Ronald continued to stare at Albus. Is he angry with me?

"Kingsley and Gawain can take guard duty, you and the others can go home to rest," Amelia ordered.

"I will let them know, Ma'am," Tiberius left with a parting nod, closing the door behind him.

"I've fought with his nephew, before," Ronald told Amelia. "Cormac McLaggen, have you heard of him?"

"We haven't brought you here to speak about Cormac McLaggen," Amelia gestured towards the boxes.

"Is this about my trial?" Ronald asked. Trial? What trial?

"No, Mr. Weasley," Amelia replied, sounding a little on edge. "I have nothing to do with your trial, except attending it as a member of the Wizengamot. Be assured, I already plan to vote in your favour." The Wizengamot is involved in this trial?

Albus shot a quick look towards Severus, who simply shook his head before going back to listening. We have definitely missed far too much, and that needs to change.

"Ronald is being held for trial?" Albus asked. "By the Wizengamot itself?"

"Surely, his pandering to Werewolves has made him the perfect scapegoat," Severus figured.

"Exactly so," Amelia confirmed.

"It's not 'pandering'," Ronald's smile faltered. "The Ministry wasn't doing anything to help them, so I stepped in."

"And now, you are being held for trial," Severus said icily. "How did 'stepping in' work out for you?" Will his hatred of Werewolves ever weaken?

"Severus, enough," Albus whispered, subtly gesturing his friend to remain calm. "What is the charge, Amelia?"

"Treason," Amelia replied. Treason? What madness is this, Cornelius?

"Apparently, I'm disturbing the public's peace, and in doing so, I'm inciting violence and Anti-Ministry rhetoric," Ronald explained, giving Amelia a dull look. "All I did was point out the stink, it's the Ministry that shat the bed." Colourful, as always. "I don't deserve to be on trial for helping those in need, you know that."

"I have already told you that I plan to vote in your favour," Amelia said. "What else do you need from me?"

"You could also talk to your friends on my behalf," Ronald shrugged. "Not saying you should, but it would help me immensely."

"I will see what I can do," Amelia said, flicking her wrist and sending a box floating over to Ronald. "What you are about to see is confidential information, you will not share it with anyone without my express permission."

"What is it?" Ronald asked innocently, not opening the box. He's learned to lie effortlessly, even I have my doubts about his involvement in this. "It's not going to get me into more trouble with the Ministry, is it?"

"A portion of the Ministry, definitely," Amelia replied. "However, now is not the time to get cold feet."

"I'm not sure I want to keep taking the hits for you, Madam Bones," Ronald suddenly said, putting the box down on the ground. Odd, I was sure that he would jump onto the chance to control this story. "My Werewolf Sanctuary is still under attack, I'm on trial for treason, the Daily Prophet really did a number on me-"

"Ronald, a great many things depend on you," Albus cut in. "The Daily Prophet is torn between serving the Minister and the Pure-Bloods, which means that they're more unreliable than ever. The Quibbler, despite the timing, can help shed light onto the truth. Isn't that what you want?" Don't tell me that he hasn't planned for this, that is very unlike him. He is a farsighted young man, even if he lets his emotions blind him sometimes.

"You don't know what I want," Ronald said, not sparing Albus a glance. Ah, so he is indeed angry with me.

"And what do you want for your help on this?" Amelia asked, she had been waiting for this. "I've already agreed to help you in your trial."

"The Werewolf Capture Unit needs to back off," Ronald started, his true intentions revealed. He's got leverage, and he knows it. "I don't want the Werewolves to be arrested for breaking some idiotic legislation, but given how the WCU is circling the property, it's safe to assume that they're out for blood. I know you have no authority over them, but if you could pull some strings for me and get them to back off, I'd be more inclined to help you."

"If you are willing to compromise, I'll see what I can do," Amelia gave him a nod. "Anything else?"

"My brother, Percy, would still make for a brilliant assistant," Ronald replied, another smile fixed in place. "A young, ambitious wizard who has already proven himself to every adult in his life, that's an employee you can't miss out on."

"Is this really the time and place for this?" Severus asked Ronald.

"I have to look out for me and my own," Ronald replied, looking towards Albus. "The Headmaster can prove that Percy is brilliant, just ask him."

"Well, Albus?" Amelia asked.

"Percy is indeed a brilliant student," Albus played along, though he didn't have to lie. "He has a natural talent for understanding Magical Theory, he always makes an effective use of his time, he knows how to focus and prioritize his workload, he is tenacious enough to withstand a lot of stress, he is willing to improve what he knows, and best of all, he already respects the Ministry and what it should stand for." Miss. Granger reminds me of Percy, actually. Once she learns not to stress over every little detail of her life, she will begin reaching her true potential.

"High praise," Amelia said, clearly thinking it through. "Everyone keeps telling me just how bright this young wizard is, and now, even you are praising him, Albus."

"Percy also comes with loyalty," Ronald added. "Imagine not worrying about being stabbed in the back? That'd be a nice change, wouldn't it?"

"It would be," Amelia spoke to herself.

"During such hectic times, a young mind can often provide the clarity we elders need." Albus said. "Percy deserves to be rewarded for his hard work, while you need a sharp mind by your side." And if he joins the Order, I can ask him to keep his eyes on the Ministry's upper management, along with Alastor and Kingsley.

"I will see about your… demands," Amelia looked back to Ronald. "Now, are you willing to open the first box?"

"Let's see, then," Ronald kneeled down, opening the box and pulling out a few photos. Yes, see what you have become, Ronald.

Albus waited for a reaction, but it never came. Ronald simply went through the pictures one-by-one, never uttering a word nor making a sound. It was rather strange, and although there was no proof, Albus suspected that Ronald was still putting up an act. However, he does look somewhat shocked. I'm not sure about this, but I don't think Ronald was expecting whatever he's seeing.

Albus soon found himself feeling strained, it was difficult to predict an erratic mind like Ronald's. For all I know, this too is a part of his act. Ronald loves to be dramatic, especially when he's angry, and he's determined enough to go to any length for victory. This makes him very dangerous going forward-

"What is this?" Ronald suddenly broke his silence, staring at Amelia with a furrowed brow. "I can recognize some of these faces; Lord Parkinson, Lord and Lady Flint… Were they all murdered?"

"Yes, last night," Amelia replied. "The Carrow Twins were hosting a… gathering… for their friends, and while they were celebrating, a group of trained wizards and witches attacked the Carrow Twins' estate."

"So, in all of those boxes behind you…" Ron started slowly, shooting a look towards Albus and Severus. We have to play along, there is no other choice.

"Twenty-two confirmed Lords, and nineteen confirmed Ladies, the Carrow Twins amongst them," Amelia said matter-of-factly. "We're looking at one of the most brutal killings ever committed within Magical Britain, it'll remind a lot of people of the Great War."

"Did none of these Lords and Ladies manage to escape?" Ronald asked. We should be asking you that. You butchered and defiled their corpse; I've seen your handiwork for myself. How could you resort to this? Has the Entity completely conquered your goodwill?

"We've just now managed to get through the estate, but since we're low on manpower, we're leaving the ground work to the other Departments," Amelia replied. "So, Mr. Weasley? Will you help bring this to light? It will earn you even more enemies, but the Wizarding World will know the truth."

"Many of these Lords and Ladies considered me their enemy," Ronald said, looking back down at the pictures. "But now, that hardly even matters… I will help you in any way I can; those murderers need to be stopped."

Amelia looked to Albus and gave him a nod, while Albus could do little but smile in return. He has her, and she's given him the chance to present all the facts. Albus was already figuring out the scope of Ronald's scheme; the redhead had done the crime, and now, he was going to destroy the public image of the Pure-Bloods in order to hide amidst the outrage. Clever… Very clever, Ronald.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 20th February, 1994 (St. Mungo's – Past Midday)

Ron finished looking through the last box, Emilia had clearly taken things much further than planned. Eh, it hardly makes a difference. Those bastards knew what they were up to, feeling sorry for them is utterly unnecessary.

"This was… wretched…" Ron said, keeping up his act. "So, these Lords and Ladies weren't attacked without reason? They were keeping Muggles in cages for sport? And, they were even practising Necromancy?" Foul bastards, they want power over everything, even death.

"Everything points to it, yes," Madam Bones replied.

"And, all of those Muggles are being treated downstairs?" Ron asked, just to be sure. "Even the Centaurs found chained out in the stables?" Centaurs that I had no fucking idea about…

Madam Bones gave a nod, much to Ron's relief. I doubt any of these Centaurs saw anything of note, and I'm certainly glad that Emilia let them live. I can't forget that she believes in Blood-Supremacy, just like a lot of my other allies. The only reason why she's fighting alongside me is due to her feud with the men who murdered her father-

"Mr. Weasley?" Madam Bones called. "How soon until you can publish this?"

"All of this?" Ron asked, looking around. "It'll take some time-"

"We don't have that long, Ronald," Dumbledore spoke from the bed. "The Daily Prophet has every right to report this story, Amelia can't pressure them into silence indefinitely." It would be better if my version came out first; it won't be missing any facts, which will take away the Daily Prophet's ability to lie. I'll need everyone working on this, even Xeno, Jack Smith, and Timothy Greene.

"I'll try and get this out by Monday morning," Ron promised. Just in time for my trial. Let's see Fudge focus on me with this level of depravity out in the open. He'll no doubt try to paint me as a liar, but Madam Bones and the Aurors will back me up.

"Monday morning, then," Madam Bones looked at her pocket watch. "I must go and speak with Crouch, he might have something you can use against Fudge, Mr. Weasley."

"You can hand it to me tomorrow, when you come over for your interview," Ron gave a smile and a nod.

"An interview?" Madam Bones asked.

"We're writing two very dangerous articles, Madam Bones," Ron explained. "The one on Fudge and his corruption, and now, the one on this bizarre massacre. We need you standing by what we say; otherwise, a lot of people will just believe the Daily Prophet over The Quibbler. If you want the truth to be out there, then you need to do your part." You don't get to skip out on explaining your lack of action, you definitely knew this was going on in the shadows. What were you waiting for while people were being tortured to death? It's literally your job to stop these monsters, but I had to show up and clean the house for you.

"Ronald is right, Amelia," Dumbledore counselled. "Your word is trusted amongst the public, and even now, many are no doubt whispering for you to take action. By supporting The Quibbler with an exclusive, you'll help legitimize his words." He's being quite helpful, though I can't stop thinking about what Ravenclaw Ron said. Why does Dumbledore do nothing? Was he waiting around for someone else to do all the heavy lifting? Does he just not care enough?

"I am free in the afternoon," Madam Bones agreed. "Meet me at The Pond at half-past two, we can conduct this interview while we eat lunch." Practical, and it saves us both time; I like it.

"Could your Aurors make copies of these?" Ron asked. "I have a building in The Upper District-"

"I am aware, Mr. Weasley," Madam Bones began heading for the door, looking to be in a hurry. She is aware? Are the Aurors keeping track of me? "I will have Kingsley Shacklebolt drop off the documents. Come, I can't leave you up here." Oh, good. Those two were looking ready to lecture me, and I don't need that headache right now.

"Ronald, drop by my Office before dinner," Snape suddenly said, catching Ron at the door. "You have assignments that need to be finished." Assignments, my arse…

"Of course, Professor," Ron said as he followed Madam Bones out. "Can't forget about those assignments… About to lose my right to use Magic, but I'll be sure to get that classwork done before it's due."

Ron heard Snape grumble something as Madam Bones shut the door, she was giving him a puzzled look. Did I give myself away? Am I acting too relaxed?

"Do you often speak to your Professors with such impudence?" Madam Bones asked. Pardon? "You didn't strike me as the type, Mr. Weasley."

"Oh, I suppose I'm just at the end of my rope," Ron said, giving her an earnest look. "Feels like the entire Universe is out to get me, you know?"

Madam Bones' features softened, and eventually, she gestured him to follow her. She's a smart woman, but she's far too honest and practical to suspect me. I need to cling to her until I'm safe from prying eyes.

"I understand that feeling quite well," Madam Bones told Ron. "If I were you, I'd trust it."

"I will," Ron said. "By the way, what happens after Fudge is exposed?"

"Shouldn't you be worrying over your trial first?" Madam Bones asked instead. "It will still take time to remove Fudge from Office, there are protocols that need to be followed."

"Such as?" Ron asked.

"In a case like this, the Wizengamot would need to convene and elect a temporary Minister for Magic," Madam Bones explained. "More often than not, the Wizengamot chooses from its own numbers, but there have been cases where the Head of a Department was elected." Good thing you're both, eh?

"Will you be putting your name forward?" Ron asked outright. "For the Ministership, that is?"

"I… have not decided," Madam Bones replied vaguely. Yes, you have. After all, I helped you come to that decision, even if you don't know it.

"You should," Ron said, earning a raised eyebrow from Madam Bones. "You seem like the fair sort, someone who cares about doing the right thing." When it suits you, of course. "What do you think?"

"I think that, for now, we should just focus on what's ahead of us," Madam Bones replied. "For you, that is your trial, and make no mistake, Mr. Weasley, this is a very serious matter. Fudge is being cornered by a lot of people, and he believes you to be the easiest foe to tackle first. Not to mention that you have riled up a lot of people, so Fudge isn't completely wrong in his accusations."

"All I did was show people the truth," Ron said. "It's not my fault that the Ministry used the suffering of others as a tool to increase their popularity, and it's certainly not my fault that people are so easily riled up these days. That's also on the Ministry."

"I cannot deny that mistakes have been made," Madam Bones said. "However, the Ministry is not the problem here, it's the fool running it."

"So, Fudge is behind everything?" Ron asked dryly. "You can't possibly think that everything is his fault, can you?" He's done a lot of damage, but so have the rest of you.

"Of course not, we have all played a part in these disasters," Madam Bones replied. "But Fudge has become a middle-man of sorts, his careless actions and greed have always led him towards the wrong people. With proper leadership, things will change for the better." I fucking hope so, you have no idea how much effort we have undergone to set you up as the next Minister.

As they reached the end of the empty hallway, Ron spotted Arthur and Lord Greengrass waiting for him by the stairs, accompanied by Kingsley Shacklebolt and Gawain Robards. They're still here? I've been gone for ages.

"I will see you tomorrow, Madam Bones," Ron bid her farewell. "Oh, and I'll be waiting for those copies."

Madam Bones gave him a parting nod before pulling Kingsley aside, whispering instructions to him. Ron made his way past Gawain, joining up with Arthur and Sebastian. I can't share anything with dad, whereas Lord Greengrass already knows what I've done. This is going to be tricky.

"Sorry for the long wait, but we can go now," Ron said, heading through to the stairs.

"Ron, what was that about?" Arthur asked immediately, following closely behind Ron. "Why did Dumbledore and Bones need to see you? What's happened?"

"I can't talk about it," Ron replied. "Madam Bones told me that the information was confidential."

"Confidential? Merlin, what's gone wrong this time around?" Arthur asked, shooting a worried look towards Lord Greengrass. "Were those Muggles downstairs involved?"

"Again, I can't answer that," Ron said, quickening his pace. "I'm going to be very busy over the next two days, and I'm going to need help. Dad, you need to go find Xeno for me, his location is hidden by the Fidelius Charm. Bring him to Gringotts as quickly as you can, I'll meet you there. Lord Greengrass, if you could get our allies together and speak to them on my behalf, I'd really appreciate it-"

"I am a part of your alliance again, am I?" Lord Greengrass asked coldly, making Ron stop. "I thought my daughter was going to take my seat, as absurd as that sounds." Really? You have to bring this up in front of my dad?

"What's that supposed to mean?" Arthur asked, looking between Ron and Lord Greengrass.

"I was angry and I said some stupid things," Ron said to Lord Greengrass, he didn't have any time to waste. He is who he is, Ron; you can't change that, but you can at least apologize for crossing the line. "I'm sorry, Lord Greengrass. I wish I hadn't lashed out like that, but what's done is done. I'm in a lot of trouble here, can we please just put this behind us for now?"

"Ron, when does this behaviour stop?" Arthur sighed out, giving Lord Greengrass a sorry look. "You're fighting with Sebastian as well?"

"We've had a difference of opinion," Ron said. "Seriously, let's not do this now. Are you two going to help me, or, not? I can't do everything by myself, I just don't have the time for it. Please? You know I would do the same for you."

"Xeno should be by Pandora's side, but since this is an emergency, I'll see if I can convince him to come with me," Arthur said, while Lord Greengrass simply gave a nod before walking on ahead. I'll have to sort out my living arrangement as well, expecting Lord Greengrass to let me stay with him would be mental.

---

Saturday 20th February, 1994 (Gringotts – Afternoon)

"Sorry for the delay, Mr. Weasley," Gornuk gave Ron his usual greedy smile. "But weekends are always so busy for us, so many wizards to get through."

"I'm sure that more gold going into this bank is dreadful business," Ron said, taking a seat.

"Are you unwell, Mr. Weasley?" Gornuk asked, noticing Ron's bone-white complexion.

"No, Gornuk, I'm just ugly…" Ron sighed out. Everyone keeps asking the same question, it's maddening. "Let's just get right to business, eh? I don't have much time."

"Very well," Gornuk pulled out a quill and some parchment. "What are we looking at today, Mr. Weasley?"

"The Quibbler needs to release another issue," Ron started.

"Miss. Thornburg's article?" Gornuk asked.

"No, this is something new," Ron clarified. "Something much more sensational, for lack of a better word, than the story on Fudge."

"Truly?" Gornuk asked. "May I ask what this 'sensational' news is?"

"You can find out about it later, when you come over to my building after you're done here for the day," Ron replied. "I'm sorry for the secrecy, but I gave my word. You'll have to wait to see this, just like the rest of The Quibbler's employees. I've sent my bodyguard to collect everyone, we need every person pulling their weight on this."

"I look forward to finding out more," Gornuk said. This is why I like Gornuk, he stays on task and doesn't ask any pointless questions.

"We'll see about that," Ron muttered under his breath. Gringotts will take a severe hit from this, so many of those Lords and Ladies invested heavily into this bank. If I do get caught, the Goblins will definitely want me dead. Another thing that I didn't really think of until now.

"So, this new article needs to be released first?" Gornuk asked, jotting down some notes.

"Yes, and by Monday morning," Ron added.

"That gives us less than a day to work on this," Gornuk pointed out, giving Ron an unsure smile.

"I need you to work through the night as well," Ron said, feeling slightly sorry. "Yeah, I'm asking a lot, but just hear me out. I'll gift you some gold-"

"Ah, that reminds me," Gornuk pulled out a file from the bottom of his desk. "The Minister's Office asked for a record of your finances."

"Fuck's sake," Ron sighed out. That cunt is really trying to put the whole thing on me, isn't he? He's fucking lost it.

"We refused to cooperate with the Minister," Gornuk told Ron, his face splitting into a sharp-toothed smile. "Such service surely deserves reward, does it not?" I had best just pay up, they kept their word to me.

"It does," Ron agreed. "How much would it take to keep you lot on my side?"

"A thousand Galleons would leave a good impression," Gornuk wrote it down in his journal. That's just unreasonable, that is.

"Can I even afford it?" Ron joked.

"You can," Gornuk replied quickly. I wonder why Goblins love gold so much. Were they Cursed by the Wizards of Old, or, have they always been like this?

"Do it, then," Ron consented. "Have you heard about my trial?"

"Trial, Mr. Weasley?" Gornuk looked up from his notes.

"My trial for treason," Ron said. "It's not surprising that you haven't heard of it, this whole affair is a waste of time."

"I had heard that the Ministry wasn't pleased with The Quibbler," Gornuk said. "But this is very extreme, even erratic, behaviour. What are the allegations?"

"The Minister believes that I'm trying to incite rebellion against the Ministry," Ron replied. "Mental, right? Why would I do such a thing?"

Gornuk said nothing, staring at Ron before slowly returning his attention to his notes. Gornuk's not going to buy it? Fair enough, he's helped me hide my crimes before.

"Do you know how these trials work?" Ron asked, changing the subject.

"A little, Mr. Weasley," Gornuk replied. "You will be tried in front of the Wizengamot, your crimes will be read out and elaborated upon for the court, and then, you get to speak in your defence. Or, you can have another speak on your behalf. At the end of the trial, the Wizengamot will vote their conscience."

"Vote their conscience?" Ron scoffed. "What fucking conscience?" There's so much left to do, but fuck-all time. I need every advantage that I can get, that's the only way I'll be free from Fate's circus. It's a real shame that I have to deal with these cunts first.

"You can always turn the tide in your favour, Mr. Weasley," Gornuk said. "With gifts, that is. There is nothing illegal about giving gifts to your friends." I'm not giving any of them a Knut; these people are already wealthy enough.

"I have something better, honestly," Ron said, thinking about Madam Roberts' advice. "But if I use it, there'll be no coming back." I'll be avoided by most, including potential allies who won't throw their lot in with a terminally ill wizard. Everyone will know that I'm a freak, both inside and outside.

"And what happens if you lose the trial?" Gornuk asked calmly.

"They'll break my wand and put a new Trace on me," Ron replied. "I'm too young to be shipped off to Azkaban, but then again, you never know with these people…"

"Use this 'something better', then, Mr. Weasley," Gornuk advised. "Wizards are greedier than any other Magical Race, because unlike us Goblins, they seek power above all else. What they want is to be important, and those who would help the Minister in his hour of need would become very important." That's a really good point, even I can't refute it. Some of them will give in to Fudge's insanity, fucking me over in the process.

"I have a few Wizengamot members in my corner," Ron said thoughtfully. "But maybe, that's not enough?"

"If you have to ask yourself that question, Mr. Weasley," Gornuk started. "Then, it's definitely not enough."

"Fuck it, I should have everything ready, just in case," Ron decided, there was nothing wrong with being prepared. Madam Pomfrey would be the perfect person to explain my conditions to the Wizengamot, I should speak to her after I'm done being lectured by Professor Snape. If my plan starts to fall apart, I'll go for this option.

"A wise policy, Sir," Gornuk gave an approving nod.

"Right," Ron stood up, buttoning up his suit. "I reckon I've taken enough of your time for now. I'll be expecting you, Gornuk. I need every employee working on this new story. You'll be compensated for it, if that helps."

"I will not disappoint you," Gornuk said, a hungry glint in his beady eyes. I need to start making money from The Quibbler… My expenses are getting higher and higher.

"Do we have a Printing Company for The Quibbler?" Ron asked as he neared the door.

"I have one in mind, yes," Gornuk replied. Then, it's time for The Quibbler to pay off.

"Get in touch with them," Ron said. "I want this new story to be our official debut, it'll send a strong message."

"We should include pamphlets that incentivise subscribing as well, then," Gornuk wrote it all down. "Will this new story also be sent to every home in Wizarding Europe?"

"Yes, I'll pay for that," Ron replied. "After this article, only subscribers will get our magazines." And I can finally start making some money from this business.

---

Thirty Minutes Later

Ron stood at the top of the Gringotts steps, staring down Diagon Alley. He could somewhat see The Leaky Cauldron from the steps, and in-between, there was a sea of people living out of tents and makeshift homes. How long is this going to go on? Does the Minister even have a plan for these people? What am I thinking? The Ministry can't afford to build a whole new district, the Headmaster flatted everything from what I've read. They'll need the Pure-Bloods' help, but I've gone and offed a good lot of them… This gives me the chance to encourage my allies to do the rebuilding. We'll all get goodwill, and more importantly, these poor buggers can start their lives again.

"Ron! Down here!" came his father's voice, Arthur and Xeno were standing at the bottom of the steps. Dad certainly took his time, what happened?

Ron made his way down the steps, his eyes studying Xeno. He looks the same as usual, though he's not smiling today. He must be unhappy with me, given that I yelled at his pregnant wife. Ron felt a small pang of guilt, but he quickly buried it. She doesn't know what loyalty is… I saved her life, I saved her husband's business, I've been a good brother to Luna, and I even plan to leave The Quibbler to my godson. I've been nothing but good to the Lovegood Family, and if they can't see that, then so be it.

"Xeno, it's good to see you again," Ron greeted. "How have you been?"

"Pandora's nearing the end of her pregnancy," Xeno said distantly. "I've been busy taking care of her. My garden's been devastated by her never-ending hunger." Oh…

"That's the sign of a healthy boy, my friend," Arthur gave Xeno an encouraging smile. "Trust me, I'm an expert on siring sons." Why does that sound so disgusting to me?

"I suppose you are," Xeno looked to Arthur, seemingly realizing that Arthur had six sons. "Did Molly have urges at the end of her pregnancies? I can't keep Pandora away from me-"

"What the fuck?" Ron sighed out, cringing at the thought. Why do bad things keep happening to me?

"Mate… Are you all there?" Arthur asked slowly, shooting a quick look towards Ron. He does seem absent in the eyes. "Xenophilius?"

"I'm sorry, I haven't been sleeping well," Xeno rubbed his eyes. "I'm really worried about Pandora; she's not being herself." Xeno then turned to Ron. "Whatever you said to her, Ron… You really hurt her." Fuck… Stop feeling guilty. It had to be done, they need to understand why they can't hinder me.

"She hasn't explained what I showed her?" Ron asked. She hasn't told you how unfairly you lot judge me? At least I can admit when I'm being unfair, you lot can't even do that!

"She did, but it doesn't change the fact that you have no respect for your elders," Xeno replied, his tone too calm to match his words. "I've never been disappointed in you until now, I thought you were wiser and gentler than this."

Xeno's words stung just enough to annoy Ron, but they weren't enough to get a reaction out of him. Pandora is his wife; he has to take her side. I don't have time to drag out this conversation, so I should just move on.

"I'm neither wise nor gentle, Xeno," Ron stated, using his ever-improving Occlumency to keep his emotions in check. "What I am is cold and hardened, so I suggest that you keep such opinions to yourself."

"Or, what?" Xeno asked calmly. "You'll hurt me like you hurt my pregnant wife, Ron? Is that it? You'll march me across Magical Britain, and then scream in my face over some imagined slight?" Imagined? She doesn't know what loyalty is! I've been there for her in everything, but she's gone and started listening to other people instead of just talking to me! I would have never done that to her!

Ron took a step towards Xeno, staring right into Xeno's eyes. The usual eccentric twinkle behind Xeno's eyes was missing, and without it, he simply looked like a tired man who wasn't in the mood for anyone's attitude. Usually, people are a little more… intimidated… by me. Is he just tired? Or, is he looking for a fight? Either way, this conversation is pointless. He's made up his mind already, and I'm in no mood to change it.

"I think we all need to take a breath here," Arthur cut in, breaking the tension. "Ron, you need to step back-"

"Thank you for getting Xeno," Ron said, facing at his father. "You can go home, now."

"Go home?" Arthur blinked.

"You're not an employee of The Quibbler," Ron reminded his father. "If I show you any of the confidential information, Madam Bones will be displeased with me. I need that woman on my side, do you understand? She's going places, and I'll be tagging along for the ride."

"What?" Arthur blinked. "I don't understand, Ron… What are you implying?"

"What happens after Fudge is chased out of Office?" Ron asked in response.

"We'll need a new Minis-" Arthur started, stopping as soon as he caught on. "Oh… Amelia Bones wants to-"

"Shhh," Ron looked around them. "Not here, someone could be listening in." I shouldn't have brought it up in the first place.

"Ron, no one is listening in-" Arthur started.

"Are you certain that no one is listening?" Ron asked. "Truly certain?"

"Well… No…" Arthur looked around as well, giving Ron a wary look at the end. "Ron, have you been sleeping?" Oh, I had a lovely sleep last night. Putting down Death-Eaters is rather therapeutic, actually.

"I sleep just fine," Ron began heading towards The Upper District. "Xeno, let's go; we have a lot of work to get through."

"Take care, Arthur," Xeno followed after Ron, still looking as dull as dirt. Is he even going to be useful? He looks ready to pass out.

"Ron, wait," Arthur called, stopping Ron. Now what?

"Yes?" Ron turned around.

"You need to come home," Arthur said, his brow furrowed and his chest puffed up slightly. "Mad-Eye helped me push the paperwork through, it's now legal for us to secure our home with the Fidelius Charm. You have to come back; this is not a request." Not a request? Eh, just ignore it, this is his final attempt to act as if he has any authority over me. Plus, given my situation with Lord Greengrass, it's not like I have much of a choice. I just need to get through the trial, and then, I can fuck off back to Hogwarts.

"I'll be home tomorrow," Ron turned around to leave.

"Really?" Arthur asked, sounding a little too surprised.

"It's not because of you," Ron said bluntly. "Xeno, let's get going. The others are already there, I reckon, and we can't keep holding them up."

---

Severus Snape's POV

Saturday 20th February, 1994 (Snape's Room – Evening)

When Snape finally returned to his lodgings, he wasted very little time in pouring himself a drink. The Firewhiskey helped him wash down the monumental changes Ron had brought about within a single night. The entire Wizarding World was going to reel from this, not just Magical Britain. Amongst the dead were some of the most prolific Lords and Ladies from around the world, each of them a pillar of their respective community.

Names were going to be tarnished. Children would be blamed for the actions of their parents. Economies throughout the Wizarding World were going to fluctuate, which would no doubt embolden the Goblins to reach further than ever. Every affected Ministry was going to launch its own investigation, not to mention the Muggle Governments once their people were returned, which would eventually lead to disagreements and mistrust amongst all parties involved.

But all of this paled in comparison to the wrath that the Dark Lord was going to unleash once he got wind of the damage done to his cause. Knowing him, he'll use this as a rallying cry to bring more Pure-Bloods under his control. With their fellow Lords and Ladies no longer safe from such brutal retribution, the weak will flock to the strong for protection. However, I know from experience that there will be plenty who will think twice before throwing their lot in with the Dark Lord… After all, he failed to protect his own from Ron, and that directly challenges the Dark Lord's power and image.

Snape poured himself another glass, limping over to his bed and finally resting his aching leg. He cut their eyes and tongues out… He's slipping further into the darkness, and I'm no longer sure if he's even resisting. Whatever he's gone through over the last few weeks, it's completely, and permanently, changed him.

Snape took a long sip, not caring about getting drunk before dinner. I should've been amongst the dead… I also 'enjoyed' the Carrow Twins' hospitality once upon a time…

Tired and shaken from the day's discoveries, Snape let his mind run free. The walls he had erected throughout his mind crumbled away, letting forth a torrent of bloody memories and regrets, and it wasn't long before he thinking of the first, and only time, he had attended one of the Carrow Twins' parties.

He had been eighteen at the time, and was quickly becoming one of the Dark Lord's most trusted Death-Eaters. Lucius, back then, was constantly trying to improve Snape's lifestyle, dragging him out to expensive dinners and extravagant parties in order to help him move on from Lily. And then, on a rainy night, Lucius had suddenly invited Snape to join him in celebrating the Carrow Twins' birthday, and Snape, being a lonely, bitter fool, had agreed rather readily. I had never felt such a sense of comradery before, I finally had a 'Family' of my own… What a twisted fool I am for even thinking that in the first place…

Snape took another long sip, thinking of the Muggle man he had murdered at the end of the birthday party. He just wanted to go home… That's all he kept begging for, while we cut him with knives and tore his mind apart with Magic.

A sudden influx of rage and self-loathing filled Snape, and without thinking, he hurled his glass across the room, shattering it against the door. He could still hear the others chanting his name, encouraging him to put the 'animal' down for good. He could still remember how proud he had felt of himself once he had finished the job. He could even feel Lucius embracing him afterwards, bringing everyone's attention onto Snape as he praised the younger wizard's 'intelligence and drive', filling Snape with a sense of false bravado. I really believed him… When they were all cheering my name, sharing in my drunkenness, I was truly happy…

He should've been at that party; he deserved Ron's brutality just like the rest. Albus will never fully understand, but truth be told, I'm glad Ron tracked those bastards down. The things I've seen them do, the things I did alongside them… There is a price to be paid for our actions, and finally, someone has come asking for the cheque.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 20th February, 1994 (The Quibbler Headquarters – Late Evening)

"I'm a bit peckish…" Timothy Greene suddenly broke the silence, causing everyone to look up from their work.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had come over with a copy of the Aurors' findings, and from what Ron could tell, the Aurors hadn't missed much. There were far too many photos to choose from, and far too many atrocities to report on; even dividing up the workload equally didn't help with how daunting this story was.

"Peckish? After seeing… this… for the last three hours?" Jack Smith asked. "Mate, you're mental, you are."

"We could use a break…" Marietta muttered, her voice meek and shaky. "Boss?" A break?

Ron looked around the messy room, there were piles of photos and reports all around them. As for Ron's employees, none of them except for Greta and Gornuk had taken this well. Marietta, being the gentle sort, had broken into tears multiple times, but still, she continued working through her workload without complaint. Jack and Timothy, both of them relatively young and eager to prove themselves to Ron, were trying to act tough, despite the fact that both of them had handed the worst of their work to Greta. And as for Xeno, he had dozed off within the first hour, and Ron, despite his own needs, had decided to let the man rest.

"A break would raise morale, Mr. Weasley," Gornuk whispered from his right. "I myself have not eaten since breakfast, and I cannot keep working on this empty stomach." I haven't eaten all day; you don't see me complaining.

Ron looked around again, subtly eyeing his employees. Greta is still at it, and she's doing the most amount of work. Marietta looks upset, but that's hardly new. Ron then looked to Jack and Timothy, noticing that they looked a lot older than they did at the start of their work. Greta and I can keep going, but the others are starting to fall behind. Maybe a break is for the best?

Ron then looked to his Rolex; it was nearly dinnertime. Shit! Wasn't I supposed to meet Professor Snape before dinner? Ron suddenly stood up, attracting everyone's attention.

"I have to leave for a bit," Ron started. "Take some time to freshen up, and order enough food for the entire night; I'll pay for it. We still have a lot of work to do, and I want to start drafting this article before midnight. Is that clear?"

"Crystal, boss," Marietta slouched forward, rubbing her face harshly. "I might need to bleach my eyes later, but we'll get it done." Bleach? What the fuck is that?

"Actually, before you hop off, Mr. Weasley," Timothy spoke up, a slightly nervous look on his plump face. "Um… Who are we representing in this article?"

"Representing?" Ron asked for clarification.

"I mean, whose side are we on?" Timothy clarified. You are on my side, which means that you're up against everyone.

"We're not on anyone's side, our duty is to report the truth," Ron replied, earning a pleased nod from Greta. "We will present all of it, from the Muggles being held captive to the Pure-Bloods being butchered by some deranged cunts. We will even demand answers from Amelia Bones herself."

"We will?" Jack asked slowly, fixing his glasses into place.

"Greta and I will interview her tomorrow," Ron told them. "We'll have the article ready by then, and after making some changes, we'll take it straight to Gornuk. He'll sort out the logistics, and by Monday morning, the truth will be out there."

"Can I ask questions about my own article?" Greta asked.

"That's the plan," Ron nodded. "We'll get everything we need from her in one go."

"What about him?" Greta shot a look towards Xeno. "I get that he has a pregnant wife at home, but he needs to start pulling his weight. I can't do his work and mine, not when we're so short on time." I agree.

"Let him sleep until I come back, he'll do his part once he's refreshed," Ron began heading towards the door, giving Artyom a nod. Time to head out, mate.

"Where are we going?" Artyom opened the door, leading the way outside.

"I'm heading to Hogwarts," Ron replied, not breaking his stride. "You, my very large friend, have another job to do."

"What job?" Artyom asked.

"I've come to a realization," Ron started. "The Minister has done his best not to make the people aware of my trial, probably because even he understands how pathetic this makes him look. Let's change that, shall we?"

"I can spread information," Artyom gave a nod. "Who needs to know?"

"Let's start with the people in Diagon Alley, eh?" Ron suggested. "I've earned a lot of goodwill over the last few days, especially from the victims of the raid. I need them angry, Artyom. I need them screaming at the top of their lungs for justice. Can you do that?"

"Consider it done already," Artyom replied, both wizards stepping out into the night. The sun has set, I'm running very late.

---

Twenty Minutes Later

Ron stepped into Snape's office, he had spent the last twenty minutes thinking about what to say, and in the end, he had settled for speaking his mind as plainly as possible. Neither Snape nor Dumbledore had any real power over him, and as such, he had no reason to be intimidated by them. The Cycles depend on me. They can't lock me away, and they can't get rid of me. Without me, all of their hard work means nothing.

The office was strangely empty, though there was a bubbling cauldron near Snape's desk. I swear, he's always brewing something down here. I wonder what this is. Ron walked over to the cauldron and looked inside, making sure to hold his breath just in case. Looks like the Wiggenweld Potion to me, we made some in Professor Snape's Potions Club.

"Can you tell me what's in that cauldron?" came Snape's voice, and Ron turned around to see him standing by the now-open entrance.

"The Wiggenweld Potion," Ron replied, taking a step away from the cauldron. "It's used to cure mild injuries, and is also the antidote to the Sleeping Draught and the Draught of Living Death."

"Correct," Snape limped into the room, the door closing behind him by itself.

Ron silently studied the Professor, noticing that his face was oddly flushed for once. Is he sick? His eye is also drooping a little.

"Professor?" Ron looked Snape up and down. "Are you unwell?"

"I could ask the same of you," Snape replied dryly, eyeing Ron's pale skin. "When was the last time you slept, boy?"

"Last night," Ron replied. "But before that, I was constantly waking up throughout the night." Getting real sick of these fucking nightmares, I should start using the Sleeping Draught from now on.

Snape said nothing in response, using his wand to stir the Potion as he whispered some incantations. He's still using that dodgy wand. Strange… It's not like Professor Snape to put himself at a disadvantage like this. He's one of the most intelligent people I know, so why is he doing such a stupid thing? Is it sentiment?

"That wand of yours," Ron started. "Did it belong to someone else? Someone you knew?"

"What drove you to such a conclusion?" Snape asked curtly, turning to face Ron.

"It's clearly not responding to you," Ron remembered. "You blew up your own potions closet, remember? Why use a wand that doesn't work for you? You're far too smart to put yourself in danger like this, which means that this wand holds value to you. Right?"

Snape just stared at Ron; his expression utterly unreadable. I think I've overstepped my bounds. I should back off.

"I was just curious," Ron broke the silence. "You don't have to answer me if you don't want to-"

"It's my mother's wand," Snape said suddenly. "I thought it would accept me, but it continues to resist me at every turn."

"You kept your mum's wand?" Ron asked. I didn't think that he cared for such things. It's almost sweet.

"I found it hidden away in my attic," Snape replied. "My mother abandoned her wand, her heritage, for an abusive Muggle. That's why this wand won't accept me, it feels betrayed by my mother even to this day. I can feel the conflict within it., its anger with my mother is directly affecting my Spellwork." I suppose Marco was right, wands really are sentient in their own way. If that's the case, maybe I should take better care of my wands? Buy some oils to keep them clean, maybe even get wand holsters so they don't sit around in my pockets. I'm pretty sure Ollivander sells everything I need.

"You should get a new wand made for you," Ron suggested. "I know a guy, he's really good."

"I know several," Snape turned back to his potion. "Don't worry about me, boy, I'll be ready when the time comes."

"Well, it won't be long given what's happened," Ron said. "Why did you want to see me, Professor? Is it to lecture me on my many shortcomings?"

"Carey, Clara, and Samantha…" Snape turned to face Ron again, his expression hardening. "You will stay away from them from now on, I will hear no argument on this."

"Carey told you what I did, then?" Ron asked.

"Clara told me, Carey barely leaves her room anymore," Snape replied. What? "Why do you look surprised, boy? You threw her off of a cliff, and understandably, she's not been the same since. I've been forced to smuggle her Calming Tonics and Sleeping Draughts just to keep her stable, she's afraid of her own shadow." Oh… "Tell me something, did Carey deserve your wrath? Which 'innocent' has she harmed that you would do this to her?"

"She wasn't doing her job-" Ron started.

"This is how you treat your allies?" Snape continued. "You intimidate and threaten their lives? You're beginning to remind me of a certain Dark Lord, boy-"

"I am nothing like him," Ron felt his blood boil.

"Then, explain why you used his methods last night," Snape said very calmly. "Why did you mutilate over a dozen people? Why did you leave their bodies on full display?" That wasn't me! I was just going to off them and leave, just like I did with Violet Parkinson. Fuck… I can't tell them about Emilia, the old man will definitely shut her down. Unlike me, he doesn't need her for anything-

"You have nothing to say?" Snape cut into Ron's thoughts. "From today onwards, Ron, you have no say in the Order-"

"What?" Ron blinked.

"Albus and I have decided that, until you can control yourself, you aren't fit to dictate how the Order operates," Snape explained. "You've nearly cost us three extraordinary recruits with your unjust and cruel behaviour-"

"You're kicking me out?" Ron couldn't believe this. "After everything I've done for you two? For the entire Order?"

"No one is kicking you out," Snape said, drawing in a deep breath to keep his head levelled. "But we can't just let you run rampant, not after what you did to Carey. They want nothing to do with the Order, boy, and that's on you. On your lack of discipline. I spent an entire day with the girls, convincing them that the Dark Lord would never allow the Selwyn Heiress to walk away. It's only because of Samantha that Carey and Clara agreed to remain with the Order, but all three have asked me to keep you away from them."

Ron wanted to argue, but after learning about Carey's mental state, he honestly couldn't justify his actions, even to himself. He had only wanted to set her straight, but obviously, he had done a lot more harm than good. Okay… In hindsight, now that my head is a lot clearer, throwing her off of a cliff was a bit too far. Shit…

Guilt crept up on him, dousing the flames of victory within his heart.

"She can't sleep because of me?" Ron asked, his voice barely more than whisper. Just like I can't sleep because of the Entity…

"She refuses to tell me what you did, that's how terrified she is of you," Snape said, limping over to his chair. "The students of Slytherin are my responsibility, and if you put your hands on them again, there won't be any more warnings. Albus has told me himself that he will intervene, and I promise you, your new-found bravado will not stop him from locking you away. We have spent far too much time and effort on this war, and we won't let you undo our work because you are incapable of controlling your emotions."

Ron said nothing in response, he was quietly thinking about his last run in with the former Silver Triumvirate. I was on a Calming Draught, and I couldn't even understand why Clara was so angry with me. Fuck… Fucking fuck!

"Is there anything else that you wanted to discuss?" Ron asked, averting his gaze a little. Should I apologize to Carey? Would she even want to see me? Maybe I should just stay away from her, from all three of them?

"What is there to discuss?" Snape asked. "It's not as if you'll listen to me. Or, anyone for that matter. You'll always do as you please, and lately, you've even stopped caring about the consequences of your actions. So, no, Ron, there is nothing left to discuss. Stay from Carey, Clara, and Samantha. I will recruit those I deem worthy, while you will continue to weed out Blood-Supremacy without employing violence. Is that understood?"

"Samantha's parents… They were at the party," Ron said, the photos of their corpses flashing in his mind. I orphaned one, and mentally scarred the other… And as for Clara, she'll never forgive me for hurting Carey like this.

"You've orphaned her," Snape said bluntly. "Just as you've orphaned many others, including Pansy Parkinson."

"Pansy's parents were vile bastards, they treated her like dirt her entire life," Ron said defensively.

"But they were still her parents," Snape said. "She's the last Parkinson left, which means that the Parkinson fortune is entirely hers. What do you think the Dark Lord will make of that? Is he just going to ignore such wealth? Would he risk it falling into our hands? Now that you've crippled his financial base, he'll try his hardest to get children like Samantha and Pansy on his side-"

"I won't let him anywhere near Pansy," Ron already had plans for her. "Believe me, she's never going to leave my side, and if anyone tries to hurt her, I'll tear them to pieces."

Snape cocked an eyebrow, clearly interested in Ron's plan. She'll join my alliance and represent the Parkinson Family. She's a good girl, and I managed to reach her before her parents twisted her too much. She'll join my alliance, and I'll defend her with my own life if needs be.

"Are you not going to tell me?" Snape asked. "Don't trust me enough?"

"I do trust you," Ron started. "But only with my life, not Pansy's. To you, she's probably just a silly girl who can be a valuable asset to the Order one day, right?"

"You are not wrong," Snape admitted. "Very well, keep your plans to yourself, but know that if you treat her like you've treated Carey, you and I will have words."

Ron gave an understanding nod, somehow glad that Snape would still watch over Pansy, even if he didn't particularly care about her.

"I'll be on my way, then," Ron turned to leave. "Can I apologize to Carey before I leave? Is that allowed?"

"You're going to apologize to her?" Snape sounded a little surprised.

"You've got me wrong, Professor," Ron shot a quick look back. "I'm not like the Dark Lord; I'm more than capable of realizing when I've gone too far. What I did to Carey… I can't justify it, not even to myself. You were right, I was just lashing out, there was very little strategy behind my actions." I did the same with Lord Greengrass. I'm still disappointed in him, and I despise that he thinks himself superior simply because of his birth, but threatening to murder him and his wife was too much. They've been good to me, and their charities still do a lot of good for others. I need to speak with Lord Greengrass soon, even if it'll be awkward and painful.

"She won't forgive you," Snape said from experience. "None of them will."

"Again, you mistake me," Ron opened the door before turning around. "I'm apologizing because I am ashamed of my actions, it doesn't change the fact that their opinions mean nothing to me. I'm truly beyond caring about what others think of me. For me, there is only the war, nothing else."

With that, Ron exited the office, shutting the door behind him. I'll talk to Madam Pomfrey first, and once dinner starts, I'll make my way to Carey's room. I'll wait for them there, and apologize for causing them so much pain over House politics.

Ron began making his way through the dungeons, his mind occupied by thoughts of morality and justifiable actions. On the one hand, he was very glad to be running Slytherin, it gave him a lot more opportunities to help his House-mates escape the Dark Lord. However, he was now questioning his methods, and honestly, a small part of him had been shaken by Snape's words. The Dark Lord would have done that to Carey for failing him… I can't think of anything to say in my defence in regards to that.

Maybe Snape and Dumbledore were right? Maybe he needed to regain control over his emotions? The last month has been nothing but a nightmare, and it's clearly affected my judgement. Ron promised himself that he would do better, he would not give into his emotions and make more blunders. Millicent, Carey, Clara, Samantha, my parents, Lord Greengrass, Pandora, Xeno… The whole fucking world… I have to think beyond such things. The fate of the entire Universe hangs on my success, I can't keep fighting everyone around me and the Dark Lord at the same time. I won't win the war like this; I'll just keep fucking up.

Ron didn't even notice the students he passed along the way, nor did he pay attention to their shocked whispers. From now on, I will stick to the mission; that's all I'm capable of dealing with at the moment. Relationships… Friends… Family… All of these things have brought me nothing but pain and misery, they are all distractions. I can't believe I'm about to say this, but my Ravenclaw counterpart was right. I am the reason why the Cycles keep failing, and it's because I force myself into every affair. I get distracted constantly by the people around me, something that the Dark Lord doesn't have to worry about. Let Professor Snape and the Headmaster deal with people, I need to turn my attention towards my enemies.

"Ron?" someone suddenly stepped in his way, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Hello, Cedric," Ron greeted the surprised Hufflepuff, noticing that Cedric's mates were trying to listen in. I'm nearly at the Hospital Wing, I should excuse myself and move on. After thanking Cedric, that is. He did save my life.

"I thought you weren't-" Cedric started, stopping only to shoot a look at his mates. "Come here."

Cedric gently guided Ron a little further down the hallway, away from his friends' eyes and ears. There was a rather concerned expression marring his handsome features, he looked truly worried over Ron.

"Are you back at Hogwarts?" Cedric asked in a whisper, giving Ron's shoulder a gentle squeeze. Don't touch me.

"No," Ron removed Cedric's hand, and Cedric quickly shot Ron an awkward smile.

"Sorry…" Cedric apologized.

"I just don't like being touched, mate," Ron explained. "You didn't do anything wrong. Actually, let me use this chance meeting to thank you. What you did for me, I can't ever repay you. I was in a bad place, and I was very close to making a terrible mistake…" Ron drew in a deep breath, relaxing his mind. "Thank you, Cedric. Sincerely." You've given me the chance to end the Cycles, I won't forget that.

"I'm just glad that you're all right," Cedric smiled, giving Ron an understanding nod. If only everyone was like you, mate… This world would be a happier place.

"Do you know where I can find Olivia?" Ron asked. "I want to thank her as well."

"Oh, she's probably in the common room," Cedric guessed. "Do you want me to fetch her for you? She's been really worried about you, but neither of us are allowed to discuss what happened."

"That'd be really helpful," Ron said. "I'll be in the Hospital Wing, speaking with Madam Pomfrey about some personal affairs. If you could send Olivia over, I'd appreciate it."

"Well, dinner is about to start, so I'd better get a move on," Cedric said, walking backwards. "I'll see you in a few minutes, yeah?"

"Thank you, Cedric," Ron said, shooting a quick look at Cedric's friends before continuing his journey. Saving this school and everyone in it is also part of the mission, Ron. You can't forget that.

It didn't take long for Ron to reach the Hospital Wing, and from the looks of things, Madam Pomfrey was finishing up her work before heading to the Great Hall for dinner.

"Madam Pomfrey," Ron called, making his way over to the witch.

"Ronald?" Madam Pomfrey turned around, a surprised look on her face.

"It's good to see you again," Ron put on a smile. "I've missed you."

"Is everything all right?" Madam Pomfrey walked over, flicking her wand in his face. What the…? "Your temperature is a little high, and your pallid skin suggests a poor lifestyle… Ron, when was the last time you went to sleep?"

"Last night," Ron replied.

"And before that?" Madam Pomfrey questioned.

"Why are you so interested in my sleeping patterns?" Ron asked, a playful smirk on his face. It does feel nice to talk to her again, she's always trying to help me.

"Ronald…" Madam Pomfrey clicked her tongue, giving him a dull look. "This is no joking matter, come with me."

"Actually, can we talk in your office?" Ron asked. "I need your help, Madam Pomfrey."

---

Twenty Minutes Later

"This is the most absurd thing Fudge has done yet," Madam Pomfrey shook her head, her lips thinning into a frown. "To accuse a child of treason?! Of inciting violence and threatening Ministry rule?! He has finally taken leave of his senses…" Oddly enough, he's actually on the money this time around.

"You don't have to tell me," Ron sighed out. "I could lose my right to use Magic, Madam Pomfrey… Hogwarts, my friends, even the Professors-"

"Albus will protect you, Ron," Madam Pomfrey interjected, her voice and expression becoming gentle. She's surprisingly easy to rile up, I think I've pushed her enough to ask for my favour now.

"The Headmaster is hurt, and I hate the fact that he's going to have to leave his hospital bed for my sake," Ron 'averted' his gaze. "Honestly, I feel more like a burden than ever…"

"Listen to me, Ron," Madam Pomfrey started. "This is not your fault, none of it. What you're doing for the Werewolves and the people of Knockturn Alley… It's nothing short of beautiful, please don't let Fudge take that away from you. His love of Office has warped his mind, and now, he's trying to punish the people who are doing what he should be doing. Albus understands this, he won't think of you as a burden, you know that."

"I'm just really scared," Ron let out a weak chuckle. "I know I don't have long left anyway, but being a part of this school… It makes things easier, you know?"

"I know," Madam Pomfrey gave him a comforting smile. "We'll get through this, I promise."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," Ron returned her smile. "Talking about it helps."

"Did you talk about this with your parents?" Madam Pomfrey asked. Shit…

"My parents and I… Things haven't been so good between us, not since I tried to commit suicide," Ron admitted. "I… I'm not like them, I suppose. I don't think like they do, I don't act like they do, and I don't believe in what they believe in. My dad…" Ron trailed off.

"What about your father, Ron?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"He… He told me that he wished I was different…" Ron still struggled to get these particular words out. "He was angry, I know that, and as soon as he said it, I knew that he regretted it. But… I also know that when people are angry, they usually give voice to their true thoughts."

"I am very sorry to hear that, Ron," Madam Pomfrey said. "Do you want to discuss this a little more? It's been a while since we had a session, and I believe that it'll be good for you."

"Actually, I need a different kind of help this time," Ron started. She's rattled by what Fudge is trying to do to me, now is the best time to enlist her help. If she's passionate about this, she'll really sell the whole thing. "If things turn sour for me in this trial, I'm going to fight Fudge's lies with the truth."

"And what truth is that?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"The truth, Madam Pomfrey," Ron clarified, tapping his temple. "The truth I always wanted to keep to myself."

"You want to reveal your brain damage to the Wizengamot?" Madam Pomfrey asked, a little taken aback by Ron wanting to come forward.

"They think that I'm after power and influence, but the truth is that none of those things matter to me," Ron said, thinking about his words very carefully. "You and I both know that I don't have time for such things, I only got involved with the Ministry because I wanted to help people. What's even the point of me trying to hurt the Ministry? I'll be dead before I even graduate-"

"Ron-"

"It's the truth, and we both know it," Ron said, pulling in a deep breath. "I'm not a Healer, and I can't explain my conditions as well as you can. If things turn sour, I want to lay all of my cards on the table. The scars, the brain damage, the Chronic Stress, everything…"

"Ron, there will be no coming back from this," Madam Pomfrey said, her eyes fixed on Ron's. "Are you sure about this?"

"I've made my peace," Ron said, unable to hide the weariness in his voice. "I want to help people in the short time I have left, but I can't do that if the Wizengamot charges me with treason. If Fudge is willing to use lies to save himself, then I'm willing to use the truth to save myself."

"If that is what you want, then I will come to your trial with your files," Madam Pomfrey promised. "And I will speak on your behalf as well."

"Really?" Ron asked.

"Of course, Ron," Madam Pomfrey replied. "I will get started on my address tonight, I promise." She's ready, then.

"Thank you," Ron stood up. "I should probably get out of your hair… It's dinnertime, and you're missing out because of me."

"Nonsense," Madam Pomfrey said. "The students always come first."

"The trial is at five," Ron said, moving towards the door. "I'll see you there, Madam Pomfrey."

"Count on it," Madam Pomfrey said. "Albus and I won't let them do this to you, Ron."

Ron gave her a reassured smile and a nod, leaving the office and heading straight towards the exit. Now, let's go wait in the girls' room. Just as Ron exited the Hospital Wing, he ran into Cedric and Olivia, they were both waiting for him.

"Hello," Ron greeted them, smiling a little at the sight of his saviours.

"Hey, mate," Cedric greeted back, while Olivia just kept staring at him with a concerned expression. "Is everything all right? You're not sick, are you?" Yes, I am, but only in my head.

"No, I'm all right," Ron replied. "I'm sorry that you're both missing dinner-"

"Oh, that doesn't matter," Olivia said quickly. "Are… Are you feeling better?"

"I am," Ron gave her a nod, putting his gloved hand forward. "Weasley, Ronald Weasley. I don't think we've ever spoken before."

"Um… I don't really speak to a lot of people," Olivia said nervously, slowly putting her hand in his. "I'm Olivia Pearson, by the way… I'm in Cedric's year."

"It's an honour," Ron gave her proper smile before kissing her knuckles. "Thank you for saving my life, Olivia Pearson. I will not forget my debt to you. If you ever need anything, you can count on my help."

Olivia just kept staring at him with ever-widening eyes, her face becoming redder and redder by the second. Is she all right? She suddenly pulled her hand back, turned around, and legged it down the hallway, leaving both Ron and Cedric rather dumbfounded. Did I do something wrong?

"What the…?" Ron muttered, while Cedric began laughing. "What was that? And why are you laughing?"

"Sorry about her, mate," Cedric eventually stopped sniggering. "Olivia's not really good with people, or rather, people aren't good with her."

"What does that mean?" Ron asked.

"Some of the students at this school can be right prats," Cedric explained, pulling himself together. "She's always been made fun of, mostly due to her… awkwardness… It's stupid, but even my mates have given her a hard time." They have?

"Which mates?" Ron asked, his voice suddenly turning cold.

Cedric blinked in confusion, obviously noticing the change in Ron's demeanour.

"I've already stopped them," Cedric finally said, looking a little puzzled. "Ron, are you sure that you're all right?" If anyone bullies her again, I'll be having words with them myself.

"Sorry, I just don't like bullies," Ron shook his head clear. "Thank you for fetching her for me, Cedric. You're a proper lad."

"Don't worry about it," Cedric smiled, causing Ron to smile in return. Control yourself, Ron! Ignore how handsome he looks when he smiles! "I reckon I should go check up on her, you really did a number on her. It was very smooth." Smooth? Oh…

"I hope I didn't make her uncomfortable," Ron sighed out, scratching the back of his neck.

"She didn't look uncomfortable to me," Cedric chuckled. "Will you be coming back to Hogwarts soon? The study group misses you, especially the younger years. It's just not the same without you hovering over everyone, is what I meant."

"You miss me, do you?" Ron asked.

"I do, actually," Cedric shrugged. Don't blush, Ron! Resist!

"I'll be back soon," Ron said. "I just need to take care of something first." I reckon I'll use the Disillusionment Charm to sneak into Slytherin, I bet word of my return has spread all over the school by now. My siblings and my friends will want to see me, but honestly, I just can't be fucked dealing with them right now. I need to say my piece to Carey, and then, I need to get back to work.

---

Almost One Hour Later

Ron was beginning to feel like a creep, he should've waited outside instead of lingering inside the bedroom of three different girls. They should be here any minute now, Ron. The dinner bell went off again, just be patient. He was still under the Disillusionment Charm, a part of him knew that the girls wouldn't give him a minute of their time after what he had done to Carey, and as such, he knew that he had to be a little more… proactive. A real man knows when to apologize, isn't that what dad always says whenever he gets into trouble with mum?

The door suddenly swung open, and just as Ron turned around, he saw Carey and Clara rush into the room. Carey looked to be in a panic, while Clara was clearly trying her best to keep her friend calm.

"Carey, please," Clara begged. "Just slow down-"

"He's here!" Carey said shakily, her voice cracking due to panic. "He's apparently wandering about the castle; how can I calm down?!"

"No one has seen him since before dinner," Samantha entered the room, shutting it behind her. "He's probably gone by now."

"We're not going to let him get close to you, love," Clara took Carey's arm, stopping the blonde witch. "Carey, you're going to have another anxiety attack… Please… Just take a deep breath, everything is going to be all right. Sammy and I are right here, we won't let anyone hurt you." Another anxiety attack? Fucking hell, Ron, you goddamn cunt.

Without the Calming Draught to numb him this time around, Ron felt his mind become submerged in guilt. His sudden drop in concentration broke the Disillusionment Charm, making him suddenly appear right in front of Carey and Clara.

Time seemed to stop, with all three girls spotting Ron at the exact same time.

"Hello," Ron greeted, noticing that they were staring right at him with horror dawning upon their expressions.

Carey suddenly let out a strangled whimper, yanking her arm away from Clara and bolting towards the door. She managed three steps before her feet collided with each other, her fear of him had made her careless, causing Carey to tumble to the floor. Clara immediately threw herself between Ron and Carey, clearly trying to block his path, despite the fact that Ron hadn't moved an inch.

"Get back!" Samantha raised her voice, her wand already aimed at Ron. "Stay away from us!"

"I'm not here to fight," Ron showed them his empty hands. "I'm only here to talk-"

"We have nothing to discuss with you," Clara hissed, aiming her wand at his head. "Get out! Get out right now!"

"I'm sorry for what I did, Carey," Ron apologized, ignoring Clara and Samantha's wands. "I promise that I'll never put my hands on you again, nor will I come anywhere near you from now on." Ron then looked to a surprised Clara. "I will also stay away from you and Samantha, I promise."

"You think we're going to fall for this?" Samantha asked, slowly kneeling down besides Carey and helping her up.

"After what you did, you can take your apology and fuck off!" Clara spat out, anger marring her features again. "You bloody freak!" Fair enough, I deserve that.

Ron looked back to Carey, his calm eyes locking onto her terrified ones. Look at what you did, Ron… Carey had lost the colour in her face, and she was trembling all over. Ron drew in a deep breath, maintaining control over himself as best he could.

"I'm sorry," Ron apologized again, slowly moving towards the door.

Clara didn't move out of his way, her wand still aimed at his face, while Samantha pulled Carey behind her so Ron couldn't touch her. Step by step, Ron made his way over to the door, making sure to stay slow in order to not spook them. Just as he reached the door, however, Clara fired a Stinging Jinx at him. The white Spell struck Ron on the shoulder, shattering on impact and not fazing Ron in the slightest. Did she just-?

"We treated you like one of our own!" Clara shouted hysterically, her wand hand shaking because of how angry she was. "We treated you like a friend, and you destroyed everything we've worked for!"

"Clara, don't," Samantha hissed. "Put your wand down right now."

"She could've died, you fucking psycho!" Clara raved on. "You need to be locked away! You don't belong near other people!" Enough, I came here to apologize, not to get attacked by them.

"I was never your friend, not really," Ron said calmly, ignoring the fact that Clara had fired a Spell at him. "You three used me, and we all know it. All those kisses, those hugs, using your beauty to make me feel special… To make me feel like I wasn't just a Blood-Traitor stuck in Slytherin… I understand now what you three were doing, and for a long time, it worked. Even when you gave Malfoy the rewards, while handing me all the work, I really believed that you three were on my side, but you weren't. Sure, you might have grown to care for me a little, but that never stopped you from manipulating me; it didn't stop you from becoming angry with me the moment I tried to empower myself even a little. Am I wrong?" After I put down Flint's 'rebellion', none of them could stand the thought of me possibly challenging their authority. I was just another one of their tools, in the end.

"None of that justifies what you did to Carey," Samantha said, not denying his accusations.

Ron didn't know why, but some part of him still felt like a worthless fool for playing into their hands for so long. They batted their eyelashes at me, and I immediately gave them power over me… Never. Again. I will learn from this; I will be better.

"I know that my actions were unjustifiable, which is why I've apologized," Ron started. "You won't hear from me again, but saying that, you will continue to toe the line. Is that fair?"

"Get out," Samantha said, her dark eyes intense with hatred. "If you ever come anywhere near Carey, we'll tell the whole world about what you did. Professor Snape won't be able to save you, then."

"I need an answer," Ron said. "Will you toe the line?"

"We will, but not for you," Clara replied, her eyes had welled up. "Samantha needs the Order's protection, so we'll do what we have to. Just stay the fuck away from us."

Ron gave an understanding nod, looking back to Carey one last time. She seemed to have calmed down a little, as she was just staring at him with… curiosity…? She still looks scared, but I don't think she was expecting this kind of confrontation. Neither of them said anything, but Ron knew that she understood him.

He had taken things too far, and he was willing to accept that fact.

"Goodbye," Ron said, and after Carey gave him a shaky nod, he turned around and exited the room.

The moment the door was shut behind him, exhaustion crept up on Ron. With his rage already spent on the Carrow Twins and their degenerate friends, he was left with nothing but a hollow feeling in his chest. Keep moving forward, Ron. You don't have the luxury of stopping.

He quickly cast the Disillusionment Charm on himself, not keen to run into anyone else. Not even his friends. Blaise will whine about me not doing enough for his step-father, while he sits on his own fortune and does nothing. Pansy will try to make me see 'reason' about Millicent. Malfoy will just be rude to me, as usual. Theo will bring up House politics and try to curry favour from me, he always wants more and more. Millicent no doubt won't even want to see me, and personally, I don't want to see her either. Not after the day I've had. Daphne… Actually, I wouldn't mind seeing her for a bit, but I can't get distracted. I have so much work to do tonight, and I've already been gone for too long.

He didn't even realize that he had stepped into the common room until the noise hit him, his fellow Slytherins were eagerly gossiping about his recent sighting. The first years looked especially lively, though from what he could make out, they were a little bothered by the fact that he hadn't come to see them.

Ron kept moving, going unnoticed by his House-mates. Just as he reached the exit, he turned to look at his friends, they were sitting in front of the fireplace with their books open, but only Millicent and Malfoy were studying. The others were talking in hushed whispers, no doubt about him. His eyes lingered on Millicent, noticing that she was pretty much sitting by herself and trying very hard not to listen in on her friends' conversation.

The sight of her ignited some irrational anger in his heart, how could she choose slavers over the slaves? Even if they were her parents, could she seriously not think for herself? Was her judgement truly that skewed? How long until Theo's father comes back into his life? How long until Malfoy finds some way to stab me in the back? How long until Blaise gives up again and takes the easy way out? How long until Millicent's parents offer her a seat at the Dark Lord's table? If she chose them over doing the right thing once, she's bound to do it again.

Loneliness enveloped him, dousing his anger with even more weariness. I can only rely on myself, even if I'm a 'bloody freak'…

Ron quietly turned around and walked away, he didn't want to be around other people ever again. Win the trial, help save Tracey from her coma, and then, focus on only the mission. Your friendships aren't going to save you from damnation, only you can do that, old boy.

---

Sunday 21st February, 1994 (The Quibbler Headquarters – Morning)

"Boss? Boss, you need to wake up," came Marietta's voice before Ron felt a gentle tapping on his shoulder.

Ron's eyes shot open, his hand quickly reaching for his wand as he sat up. Marietta yelped and jumped back, nearly spilling the mug of coffee in her hands. Where am I?! Ron looked around frantically, his groggy vision doing nothing to help him.

"Were you having a nightmare?" Marietta asked softly, kneeling in front of him and offering him the mug.

"A nightmare?" Ron mumbled, still looking around the room.

It wasn't hard to notice that the other people in the room were quick to avert their gazes as soon as he looked in their general direction. What's going on? And where are Greta and Gornuk?

"Um… You were crying… In your sleep, that is," Marietta whispered. "Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?"

Ron somewhat remembered his most recent nightmare; he had been attending Fred and George's funeral after they had been butchered just like uncle Fabian and uncle Gideon. Mum was screaming her lungs out, while dad looked like he had died with his sons… Ron rubbed his eyes clear before accepting the hot mug, terribly glad that it was only a nightmare.

As soon as he closed his right hand around the mug's handle, crippling pain shot up his right arm. Fuck me! The Pain-Relief Potion wore off in my sleep, and I don't have one on me! He quickly changed hands, resting his right arm and gritting his teeth. Bloody hell, my whole arm is burning up.

"Boss? You're starting to scare me," Marietta whispered.

"I'm all right," Ron lied, pushing down his pain. "What time is it?"

"Oh, just quarter past nine," Marietta replied. "Greta finished drafting up the article about an hour ago, she's gone back home to get some rest. Mr. Gornuk also left, he has a shift at Gringotts. Oh, and that man who follows you everywhere… He's downstairs, 'checking for threats against client'…" That definitely sounds like Artyom, and I like how Marietta tried to mimic his gruff voice. It sounded funny.

"I see," Ron muttered to himself, taking a sip of his coffee. Ugh… Coffee… If mother Earth had a dirty arsehole, I imagine it would taste like coffee.

"You mentioned that you don't really eat sugar, so I made it without any," Marietta told him. "You don't like it?"

"Oh, no, it's great," Ron lied again, shooting her an assuring smile. "I just… had a rough sleep, that's all."

"Well, I have something that might make you feel better," Marietta smiled back. What? "Tim, can you bring over that copy of the Daily Prophet?" The Daily Prophet? What did those cunts do this time?

"Here," Timothy walked over, his clothes out of sorts from sleeping on the floor.

Marietta took the article, showing the headline to Ron. Ronald Weasley; the Youngest Traitor in the history of Magical Britain? Ron's jaw dropped, had the Daily Prophet caught wind of Artyom spreading the truth? And they already published something on it? Damn, they're so much faster than us.

Ron took the article, reading through it with as much concentration as he could muster. The majority of the article was just a summary of Ron's recent controversial acts, mainly focusing on the civil unrest caused by The Quibbler's positive representation of the Werewolf Community. So much horseshit in here, I'm not helping the Werewolves for 'attention'.

Unsurprisingly, the Minister was painted as a man 'who would leave no stone unturned in his search for the truth', which made Ron roll his eyes repeatedly. The only truth about Fudge is that he's a greedy cunt, and he's surrounded himself with other greedy cunts. Ron's trial was also mentioned rather offhandedly, clearly because even the Daily Prophet couldn't justify putting a child on trial for treason over circumstantial evidence.

"I fail to see how this would please me," Ron gave Marietta a dull look. "And why is Barnabas letting this happen, we had an understanding, didn't we?"

"The article is written by Skeeter, just like the last one," Marietta said, looking a little grumpy at the mention of Rita Skeeter. "According to Barny, she's untouchable within the Daily Prophet, so much so that she's even allowed to work for other outlets without any repercussions. She brings in a lot of readers, which in turn brings in a lot of money. The Daily Prophet cares only about profit, boss… The Ministry is going directly to her, I think. Barny didn't even know that an article was being published about you until it showed up at my place."

"Again, how is this good news?" Ron sighed out, tossing the article aside. I'm going to die from stress, I fucking know it. I figured that Artyom spreading the news about my trial would anger the people I've been helping, but all I've done is give the Daily Prophet another way to make money off of my misery.

"Well, the article wasn't exactly appreciated by a lot of people," Marietta suddenly said, making Ron look back up. "Turns out, someone leaked information about your trial last night, and everyone in Diagon Alley caught wind of it. I woke up early, and when I went to get us all some breakfast, I overheard a lot of people talking about how absurd this all was. People are on your side, boss, they know that you've done nothing but help other people. And, they also know who hasn't helped them; the Ministry."

"Really?" Ron felt relief wash over him. It worked, then. Where is Artyom? I'm going to kiss that bastard.

"Really," Marietta smiled, though her smile quickly faded. "Boss, why didn't you tell us about this last night?" Um… Because we had work to do?

"It's my problem, not yours," Ron said, noticing that Xeno, Jack, and Timothy were listening in. "I want us to stay on task, it's really important that we get this article out by tomorrow morning."

"We'll get it done, Mr. Weasley," Jack called out, sleep marks on the right side of his face. "Miss. Thornburg's a monster, I've never seen someone write so quickly and accurately before!"

"Ron, can I have a word?" Xeno asked, moving towards the window.

"Sure," Ron stood up, following the man. "What is it, Xeno?"

"Are you sure that you're feeling like yourself?" Xeno asked, looking a little concerned. "Why were you crying in your sleep?"

"I missed my bed," Ron shrugged, sipping his coffee and looking out of the window. It's going to rain today; the clouds look really pissed off.

"Ron…" Xeno was not amused.

"I'm not even fourteen yet, but I'm dying… I have bad dreams sometimes, Xeno…" Ron sighed out, and Xeno's features softened even more. And by sometimes, I mean almost every other night. "What did you want to talk about?"

"I have to go home," Xeno replied, he knew that Ron wasn't going to answer any of his questions. "Pandora will be up soon, and I don't want her cooking in her condition."

"I understand," Ron gave a nod. "Tell the others they can go as well; we've done all we can for now. Oh, and send Artyom up, please."

"Ron, I…" Xeno started, trailing off when he realized that Ron looked a decade older due to his ashen complexion and baggy eyes. "Son, come with me… If you and Pandora can just sit down and talk, I'm certain that you'll both figure this out. We're a Family, aren't we?"

Ron's heart twisted painfully, and his grip tightened on his mug. Don't play that card with me! I'm not the one who isn't loyal!

"We were, but then you and Pandora started treating me like everyone else does," Ron said, unable to hide his bitterness. "There was a time when Pandora would ask for my side of the story first, when she would give me a fair chance unlike my own mother… Now, she just listens to other people and tells me to be different. I'm done being told what to do, you lot should look in the mirror before you even think of judging me." Ron drew in a deep breath, bottling up his emotions before he said something he would later come to regret. "Leave, Xeno… I have important matters to attend to, and you have a pregnant wife to take care of."

Xeno said nothing, just looking at his boy's beaten down expression and feeling his heart being ripped apart.

"Ron-"

"Go," Ron said, keeping his eyes on the street below. "Just leave me alone…"

Xeno left with a broken expression, something that the others no doubt picked up on. One by one, they cleared out of the room after Xeno told them that they were done for now. When Ron was finally alone, he placed the mug on the floor and pulled back his right sleeve. His disgusting forearm, which was already covered in serpentine-like scars, was now also host to wounds that wouldn't heal. One moment of stupidity, and I'm going to pay for it for the rest of my miserable, short life. The Universe might as well send me a post-card with 'Fuck you, ginger cunt' written all over it.

"You are awake," Artyom said, not making a sound as he approached Ron.

"Your skills of observation know no bounds, mate," Ron said dryly.

"Funny," Artyom said, not sounding all that amused. "You should join circus; they always need more clowns." Did he just insult me?

"Woah…" Ron turned around. "Did we just have some mutual banter?"

Artyom drew in a long breath, looking fed up with Ron already. I should annoy him some more; it always makes me feel better.

"Don't be like that, mate, you don't get to deny me this," Ron smirked. "We're friends now!"

"What is plan for today?" Artyom asked.

"First, we'll get some breakfast," Ron said. "To celebrate me melting that cold, Russian heart of yours-"

"I have never met more annoying client before," Artyom stated bluntly.

"Then, we'll go to Lord Greengrass' place, I need to get my things and move them to The Burrow," Ron went on. "That's my childhood home, in case you don't remember. After that, we'll have lunch with Madam Bones and get some answers out of her."

"She knew of Twins' evil," Artyom said. "She is Head of Magical Law; it is impossible that she did not know."

"My thoughts exactly," Ron nodded his agreement. "From what I can tell, quite a few rumours, most of them true, have been circling around the Ministry about the Carrow Twins' 'hobbies' for years and years, but their status and wealth protected them. Those who were supposed to stop them didn't do their jobs for fear of retribution-"

"Pathetic," Artyom sneered. "If their own were in danger, they would act for certain."

"Indeed," Ron agreed again. "Ignoring evil is not so different from committing evil, at least in my eyes. Everyone has their own reasons, of course, but at the end of the day, the Wizarding World failed all of the poor bastards who were murdered and defiled by our own. They even murdered Muggle-Borns… People born with Magic, just like them." That lad in the dungeons, I wonder what's become of him… I hope he's with his parents by now, safe and being cared for. Maybe, one day, I'll see him at Hogwarts.

"You care for Muggle-Borns?" Artyom asked, his expression unreadable as always.

"I just don't like to see people in pain," Ron shrugged. I know exactly what it feels like to suffer for no reason whatsoever, to be killed for a crime that doesn't even make sense to you. "Honestly, Artyom, I've stopped seeing labels like 'Pure-Bloods' and 'Muggle-Borns'… If I see a cunt, I'm going to call them a cunt."

For a brief moment, Ron thought he saw Artyom's lips twitch upwards, but due to his thick beard, Ron couldn't be certain. I wonder if I'll be able to grow a beard one day, though I doubt it'll be as majestic as Artyom's.

"What is plan after meeting with Bones?" Artyom asked.

"You'll help Greta and Gornuk publish the article, make sure that nothing stops you," Ron ordered, and Artyom gave a firm nod. "As for me, I'm going to visit Emilia. I have some questions for her, and I want to thank her for sparing the Centaurs chained up outside the estate."

"She is powerful witch," Artyom said. "But anger rules her heart. Be careful with her, she is too dangerous to fully trust."

"The same could be said of you," Ron pointed out.

"Good, you are learning," Artyom gave an approving nod. "Trust none but yourself, only you know what your heart truly desires." He's been acting a little different with me ever since the attack… More friendly. I like it, he was so fucking boring before.

"So? Breakfast?" Ron asked. "What do you feel like?"

"Meat," Artyom replied. "Eggs would also be welcome."

"Brilliant, let's get some eggs and sausages from The Leaky Cauldron," Ron said. "I could eat a fucking horse right now."

---

One (Delicious) Hour Later

"Didn't I already say that you don't need to pay here, Mr. Weasley?" Tom the bartender asked.

"Mate, we ate enough for like eight people," Ron shot a look back at the damage left behind on his former table. "I can't just not pay for all of that, don't you have a business to run?" Plus, if mum hears that I did something so scummy, she'll twist my fucking ear off.

"Business is good, thanks to what you're doing out there," Tom smiled at Ron, clearly trying to figure him out. "You keep helping those poor souls, and I'll consider the cheque paid."

"Oh, I'll be doing that anyway, now let me pay you before my mother finds out about this," Ron joked. "She raised me right, you know?"

Tom chuckled and shook his head.

"You're a good lad, Mr. Weasley," Tom said. "What the Ministry is trying to do to you, it's absolutely criminal is what it is. I've heard that there are even more people demanding answers from the Minister, the slimy bastard has yet to explain himself over the Werewolf business." Tom's smile suddenly faltered, as if he had remembered something terrible. "Bloody hell… I've kicked out Werewolves before, even the ones not causing any trouble and only looking for a hot meal…" Oh, that's… That's a bit fucked. He does look sorry, though, which is a good sign.

"You know, when I was little, I used to worry about Werewolves attacking my Family every time there was a full moon," Ron confessed. The twins would creep up on me and howl, scaring the life out of me. "There's no doubt that they are dangerous during the full moon, but we need to remember that, for the rest of the month, they're no different from you and me. Most of them want the same things we do; shelter, food, friends, family, a better life."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right…" Tom nodded to himself. "That Maya Milgrom girl, no child deserves to live like that…" Didn't you also ask Priscilla to leave this establishment? I suppose Squibs are even more despised than Werewolves in the Wizarding World, even though they're just ordinary people without any Magic. Even mum and dad don't like Squibs, or at least, they didn't until I told them of Priscilla. "They're not going to shut down that Sanctuary you're trying to build, are they? The Ministry, that is."

"They're trying very hard, but I'm not going to let some pompous cunt tell me what I can and can't do," Ron shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, those Werewolves are already under my protection."

"Good on you," Tom's smile came back. "You tell those Ministry Officials that Tom from The Leaky Cauldron sends his worst regards."

"Ha, I'll be sure to do that, mate," Ron couldn't help but chuckle. "Now, how much do I owe you?"

"Sixteen Sickles and twenty-two Knuts," Tom replied.

"For all that food?" Ron was a bit surprised. He's not lying to me, is he?

"This isn't exactly The Pond," Tom laughed. Oh. "This is a place for the everyday wizard."

"As good as The Pond's food is, nothing trumps a hot plate of eggs and sausages," Ron said, reaching into his pouch and pulling out the coins.

"You've got that right," Tom grinned, counting the coins. "Thank you, Mr. Weasley. It's all here."

"Take care, mate," Ron waved his goodbye, heading towards the fireplace. Maybe I ate a little too much? No, there's no such thing.

"What took so long?" Artyom asked, he was standing by the fire.

"Tom just told me that my strategies are working," Ron replied. "People are already asking questions, Artyom, it won't be long until Fudge is forced to answer."

"Telling people of trial was clever," Artyom commended. "You have good reputation; many were upset to hear of your treatment."

"After all of the Ministry's recent fuck-ups, it's hardly surprising that people are beginning to get pissed off," Ron shrugged. "It wasn't all that clever, trust me."

Ron then prepared the floo, while Artyom kept his eyes peeled for danger. Once the fireplace was ready, Ron moved through it and entered Greengrass Manor.

"Identify yourself," the witch guarding the greeting room ordered.

"It's me, the freeloader," Ron raised his hands. "Oh, and my giant."

"Ione, point wand away from my client," Artyom growled, standing right behind Ron. "Now!" Oi, don't fucking yell when you're right behind me.

"Sorry, Sir," the witch quickly sheathed her wand. "Lord Greengrass has us doing patrols all around the manor, we're just being careful."

"No harm done," Ron said, nudging Artyom. "Right, Artyom?"

"Right…" Artyom kept his eyes fixed on Ione until she backed away. Merlin, why is he so intense all the time?

"Let's just go," Ron began heading towards the study. "You mind grabbing my things? I need to speak with Lord Greengrass."

"I will be in greeting room," Artyom replied, breaking off and heading towards the stairs. I suppose it's time to sort things out with Lord Greengrass, for better or worse.

It didn't take long for Ron to reach the study, which was being guarded by Jürgen as usual.

"You're back," Jürgen smirked, showing some of his sharpened teeth. Artyom mentioned that Jürgen sharpened his teeth for the sole purpose of biting someone's throat out. He is certainly a vicious cunt from everything I've heard and seen so far.

"Is Lord Greengrass inside?" Ron asked.

"He's been expecting you," Jürgen stepped aside. "No funny business, or, we'll be having ourselves-"

"The man is pretty much my father," Ron rolled his eyes. "Shut the fuck up, cunt." Make another threat, and I'll knock those teeth out of your fucking skull.

Jürgen lost his smirk, while Ron knocked on the door.

"Enter," came Lord Greengrass voice, and Ron wasted no time in doing so.

"Lord Greengrass," Ron greeted, and the man looked up from his book. Sense and Sensibility? Is that one of his Muggle romance novels?

"Sit," Lord Greengrass closed the book, gesturing Ron to take a seat. "Mary has been asking after you, I told her that you were taking care of urgent business."

"Well, most of it has been taken care of," Ron sat down. "I think we need to talk, Lord Greengrass-"

"I should not have struck you," Lord Greengrass interjected, Non-Verbally silencing the room. "It was unworthy of me…"

"Given that I offed over forty people, I can understand where you were coming from," Ron said, causing Lord Greengrass to draw in a sharp breath. "However, don't do it again, am I clear? I won't ignore it a second time."

"That is fair," Lord Greengrass said, his pale eyes fixed on Ron's. "What has happened to us, Ron? When did this divide form between us?" I think it was always there, but it was covered up by our love of each other. But now, we're both so different from when we first met that it's honestly jarring. So much has happened, and most of it was bad.

"I think we're just very different people, even if we value the same qualities in a person," Ron gave his thoughts. "I should never have made those disgusting threats against you; Mary and you have always treated me with kindness and respect. I spat on your love; I can see that now. I'm sorry."

"Thank you," Lord Greengrass gave a soft nod. "I want you to know that I don't support what the Carrow Twins were doing, there is a reason why I didn't want to associate with them. They are… were… sick, truly twisted by their Family's obsession with the Old Ways. The Carrows never realized that the Wizarding World has moved on from Blood-Supremacy, especially with young men like you fighting against it every single day. The Carrows, and even myself, are a dying breed."

"Can I tell you something?" Ron asked tiredly, and Lord Greengrass gave a nod. "I killed Amycus Carrow with my own hands. I used the Killing Curse on him."

Lord Greengrass closed his eyes, his fingers tightening around the handles of his chair.

"Does that bother you?" Ron asked.

"That Curse, Ron, it leaves a permanent mark on the caster," Lord Greengrass replied. "We now share a similar complexion, don't we?" Wait, what? "I wish you hadn't done this to yourself, Ron…"

"You've used it as well?" Ron asked calmly. "On who?"

"A Muggle woman I murdered before I was branded," Lord Greengrass replied, not averting his gaze. "The Dark Lord has all of his followers do it, except for those who are underage. He doesn't like the young seeing him for what he really is, he prefers to poison them with his words until they are ready to serve his will."

"The foul cunt…" Ron grit his teeth. I'm going to get rid of him, I fucking swear it!

"Why did you use the Killing Curse on Amycus?" Lord Greengrass asked, they both sounded exhausted. I don't think he slept much last night either.

"He was torturing children, branded the face of a kid no older than ten," Ron said, disgust filling him. "I know you don't care for Muggles-"

"You did what you had to," Lord Greengrass said, much to Ron's surprise. "Ron, I'm not angry with you because you attacked the Carrow Twins, I'm angry because you have lost control over yourself. Your rage, I know it better than you do, it pushed me to murder my own father. No parent wants to see their child make the same mistakes as them… It breaks my heart that you've become this way, and the worst part is, you won't even tell me what caused all of this. In the span of a few days, I feel like I've lost my only son… I don't know anything about you… I never have."

Lord Greengrass' jaw clenched, as if the words coming out of his mouth were tearing his throat apart.

"I just want you help you, but you won't let me," Lord Greengrass sounded like an old man. "You're not a parent, Ron, so you don't… You don't understand the pain that comes from watching one's child suffer… Every day… Every single day, I worry over you… Mary, me, Arthur, Molly, Xenophilius, Pandora, Sirius, Remus, all of us. We all live with this constant failure hovering over our heads, as if we all failed you in one way or another…"

Ron shifted in his seat a little, he had never really thought of his situation in this light before. What's happened to me, the Cycles and the ones behind it, none of you had anything to do with that. However, you have all made it very difficult for me to get results with your constant interventions.

"You all feel like that?" Ron asked, keeping his voice steady.

"How can we not?" Lord Greengrass asked in return. "We love you, and one day, we'll have to bury you…"

Lord Greengrass looked away at that, resting his hand on his forehead.

"I can't even begin to explain what I've learned about you to the others, I don't want to because it will kill them," Lord Greengrass sniffled, shocking Ron to the point where his tongue went numb. Is… Is he crying? Because of me? "I keep failing my children… You… Astoria… Even Daphne…" Astoria again?

"What are you and Mary hiding about Astoria…?" Ron managed, his eyes welling up because of his mentor's declining demeanour. Don't cry, Ron. Don't be weak!

"It's a Blood-Curse…" Lord Greengrass confessed, while Ron smothered his feelings to death. We don't cry anymore. We are beyond such frailty, such weakness.

"A Blood-Curse?" Ron leaned forward, clearing his eyes. "Who placed it on her?"

"It's in my blood," Lord Greengrass became undone. I don't understand. "My Family… We were Cursed by a Hag centuries ago, and the Curse manifests itself in every child after the first… It's why the Greengrass Family only ever has one child." This… Is he serious about this? The Greengrass Bloodline is Cursed?

"Why did this Hag place such a powerful Curse on the Greengrass Family?" Ron asked.

"She was mistreated by my ancestor, Pious Greengrass, in 1512," Lord Greengrass replied. "He burned her at the stake at the end of a grand celebration, and in her final moments, she invoked Old Magic… Centuries have gone by, but no one has been able to break the Curse, it's a part of us. Many have told me that removing it will mean the end of the victim as well, but I've kept searching… Kept failing…"

"So, it's inside Daphne as well?" Ron asked, feeling his heart clench. No… Not her! "It's just dormant because she's the first born?"

Lord Greengrass nodded, clearing his eyes harshly.

"If she has more than one child, that child will be sickly and not long for this world," Lord Greengrass said, finally looking up with blood-shot eyes. Daph… She doesn't even know about this.

"Astoria is small for her age, but I wouldn't call her sickly," Ron tried.

"She won't live past thirty, every Healer I've spoken to is shocked that she's even alive given how powerful the Blood-Curse is," Lord Greengrass said. "Mary and I… We never planned for Astoria… After what happened to Mary in the Great War, she just wasn't the same woman I married. My touch terrified her, she wept constantly, she refused to be in the same room as Daphne, her nightmares continued to rob her of her remaining sanity, and I was forced to watch as my wife slowly became a hollow shell… But one night, after I finally managed to drag her out to dinner, we finally shared the same bed… Mary, in her state, forgot to drink the Contraception Potion the morning after, and before long, she was showing signs of being pregnant."

"I didn't take the news well," Lord Greengrass admitted, his voice heavy with shame. "I… I wanted to… I wanted her to have an abortion… I could not bear the thought of our child living a short and painful life…" Fuck me, that can't be easy to live with. "Mary was furious, she even struck me… Several times… In the end, she threatened to take Daphne and leave me if I forced such a decision upon her."

"She loved Astoria from the very start," Ron said, and Lord Greengrass nodded, looking slightly soothed.

"Astoria brought back my Mary," Lord Greengrass said. "The further her pregnancy went, the more she began to resemble her old self. She began to laugh again, she began tending to her gardens again, she reached out to the Fae and became a mother to them, and there wasn't a single moment when Daphne wasn't laughing and playing by her mother's side. Astoria, without even being born, saved the Greengrass Family." Which is why they love her to pieces. If Daphne knew all of this, she wouldn't feel so insecure about herself. If anything, she'd never let go of Astoria.

"Why did you tell me this?" Ron asked. "Why now?"

"We always wanted a boy, but after the Blood-Curse manifested itself in Astoria, I swore that I would not sire anymore children," Lord Greengrass replied. "Mary and I made our peace with it, and we turned our attention to our daughters."

"Until I came along," Ron realized.

"We tried not to feel this way about you," Lord Greengrass averted his gaze again. "We tried so hard, Ron… But, despite our best efforts, we couldn't stop ourselves from loving you as our own. And then, we learned about your brain damage…"

"Shit…" Ron muttered under his breath, feeling drained. They finally get a 'son', and he's ripped out of their hands as well. Fate, you cruel fucking bitch…

"The Gods are still punishing me," Lord Greengrass let out a pain-soaked chuckle, which turned into a heart-wrenching sob. "They will never forget what I did in the Dark Lord's name, the countless who died because of my gold… I destroy… everything I touch…"

Ron got out of his chair, marched right up to a startled Lord Greengrass, and without a word, he pulled his mentor's head into his chest. You poor bastard… You've been living with all of this pain inside you?

"You can let it out," Ron held Lord Greengrass more tightly. "I won't ever share what you say with anyone, I swear it on my life."

But Lord Greengrass had nothing left to say, all he could manage were weak sobs as he held onto Ron with as much strength as he could muster.

---

Sunday 21st February, 1994 (Greengrass Manor – Midday)

"You're not going to tell me anything about yourself, are you?" Lord Greengrass finally asked, he had finally regained himself somewhat.

"No," Ron replied.

"Why?" Lord Greengrass asked.

"Because answers that raise only questions bring nothing but pain," Ron replied calmingly. "Trust me on this, my Lord, there is only pain on the road I've been set on."

"I can help you-"

"I don't need your help," Ron said, putting his hand on Lord Greengrass' shoulder. "Mary needs your help. Daphne needs your help. Astoria needs your help. If you continue to protect them, to watch over them, then I will have peace of mind. That is what I need most right now, I need to focus on my mission."

"I… There is so much about you that doesn't make sense…" Lord Greengrass said, sounding more curious than upset. "What is this mission?"

"The destruction of the Lord of Serpents," Ron replied.

"The Lord of Serpents?" Lord Greengrass blinked. "The Dark Lord…"

"I was put on this Earth for this singular purpose, I know that now," Ron said, feeling more resolved than ever. I will keep fighting, and one day, I will win.

"What about your health?" Lord Greengrass asked. "Ron, we can't lose you…"

"You have to make your peace with it," Ron said plainly. "Actions have consequences, my Lord, and despite who I'm fighting, I've done things that are irredeemable. One day soon, justice will find me as well. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Lord Greengrass looked back down at his lap, a truly troubled look on his face.

"What are you thinking?" Ron asked, giving his mentor an encouraging smile. "Don't stop sharing now, I haven't felt this close to you in a long time." There is hope yet, I just saw it for myself. He regrets everything that came about because of the Dark Lord, and if I'm patient like I was with Malfoy, I might help Lord Greengrass change. Even if just a little.

"What you're doing… It can't be done without money," Lord Greengrass said, looking up again.

"I have powerful allies-"

"Yes, but they don't know why you've brought them together," Lord Greengrass countered. "They don't know who you are, not really. You need me, Ron. With me on your side, your… mission… would be much easier to complete."

"I don't want you to get involved in the madness that is my war," Ron said. "Lord Greengrass, my mission isn't going to end peacefully, there will be oceans of blood by the time I'm finished."

"You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to, but if you're going after the Dark Lord, then I want in," Lord Greengrass said. "That bastard nearly destroyed my Family, he needs to answer for that."

"What are you offering, Lord Greengrass?" Ron asked, giving his mentor a curious look.

"Gold," Lord Greengrass replied. "An endless source of gold." That would be handy, especially given the fact that I'm up against the richest people in the Wizarding World.

"What about the Order?" Ron asked. "They need your gold as well."

"Gah," Lord Greengrass scoffed. "The Order is weak; it is filled with self-righteous fools who underestimate the Dark Lord's power. They think that Albus Dumbledore will keep them safe, that he'll singlehandedly win them this war."

"You don't believe he can?" Ron asked. I know he can't. The Dark Lord spanked him like a school boy throughout the last war, and the old man only came out on top because of dumb luck. Not to mention his blunders within Albania and his own school… I simply can't rely on someone who is too weak to use the power in his hands.

"Once upon a time, he could," Lord Greengrass replied. "But now… Now, he has grown old, and his idea of leadership is to let the enemy throw all the punches. You've done more harm to the Dark Lord in one night than he did in over two decades."

"He is afraid of the power bestowed upon him," Ron said. "It's good that he is humble enough to understand that even he can be corrupted, but that doesn't change the fact that he let his fears turn him into a silent bystander. The world has gone to shit on his watch, and for that alone, he will answer to me."

"What do you mean by that?" Lord Greengrass asked slowly.

"I mean that he can either get in line, or, he can get the fuck out of my way," Ron said coldly. "I will not be held back any longer, not even by a man I respect above all others." I will fight my war as I deem necessary, that is the only way forward. Ravenclaw Ron was right, my dependency on others has done nothing but muddle my mind. I will be everything that the Dark Lord isn't, but unlike Dumbledore, I will not shy away from doing what must be done.

Lord Greengrass gave a slow nod, a thoughtful look on his face.

"You've become stronger," Lord Greengrass noted, tapping his temple. "Up here."

"I know I can beat them now," Ron said. "I know I can hurt them like they hurt others. For a long time, I looked to the adults in my life to be my role models. When I was little, I wanted to be just like my dad. But then, I wanted to be more like you. And over the course of this school year, I wanted to be more like Dumbledore. Now, I understand that I must be something else entirely. I must have my own principles and my own goals; I can't rely on the people who brought us to this stage with their lack of action."

"I understand," Lord Greengrass said. "I can't say that I'll stop worrying over you, none of us will stop worrying over you, but maybe… Maybe, it's time we let you decide who you want to be. It's obvious to me that you're… I don't even know how to describe you… You are human, aren't you?"

"You are literally friends with my parents," Ron chuckled. "Yes, my Lord, I'm a human being." And much, much more!

"Of course… That was stupid of me to say," Lord Greengrass finally gave a full smile. "Ron, do you… Never mind…"

"Speak your mind, my Lord," Ron said. "This bumbling demeanour doesn't suit you."

"I suppose it doesn't, does it?" Lord Greengrass straightened his back, drawing in a sharp breath before locking eyes with Ron. "Are you still angry with me? And Mary?"

"I'm not angry," Ron replied. "But I am disappointed in you both, especially because you two know what it's like to suffer because of the Old Ways. You were tortured and branded, while Mary was caged up like an animal and forced to live in the darkness. If anyone did that to me, or, my own, I would never forgive them. I would not hide behind any form of excuse, not until I had righted the wrongs done to me."

"Is that why you chase after the Dark Lord?" Lord Greengrass asked.

"Partly, yes," Ron admitted. "I want him to suffer, just as I've suffered. Just as his countless victims have suffered."

"Are you not afraid?" Lord Greengrass asked.

"No, not anymore," Ron replied. Fear was beaten out of me a long time ago. "Are you afraid?"

"Yes…" Lord Greengrass replied.

"Not everyone has to be the same, but there comes a time when you have to rise above your fear," Ron spoke from personal experience. No matter how much the world beats you down, you have to keep getting up. I nearly gave into despair, and if I had, my Cycle would be over.

Lord Greengrass went to say something, but a sudden knock at the door stopped him short. With a flick of his wand, he undid the Silencing Charm placed around them.

"Enter," Lord Greengrass commanded.

The door opened slowly, revealing a smiling Mary.

"You're here!" Mary entered fully as soon as she saw Ron. "Where did you sleep last night, Ron?"

"On the floor of my building," Ron moved off of Lord Greengrass' armrest. "It was not a pleasant experience." How could you ignore the Carrow Twins, Mary? Lord Greengrass, I can understand, but you as well? After what the Death-Eaters did to you, how could you be so apathetic?

"Tsk," Mary clicked her tongue. "Do you mind explaining why you couldn't have come home last night?"

"A man has to do what he must, my love," Lord Greengrass answered for Ron. "And Ron is a man now." I thought I was a man when you gave me some of that Apple Brandy… Did my manhood get reversed?

Mary gave her husband a curious smile, and then, she looked Ron over.

"He is getting taller again, I think," Mary noted, making Ron chuckle. "Pretty soon, he'll be dragging the top of his head all over my ceilings."

"What brings you here, Mary?" Lord Greengrass asked.

"Sebastian, are you sick?" Mary suddenly looked concerned. "Your eyes are puffy…"

"I beat him in chess, and he started crying like a bitch-" Ron started, but Lord Greengrass swatted his stomach.

"Smart-mouthed brat…" Lord Greengrass frowned a bit, rising from his seat while Ron grinned like an arsehole. "This novel is very touching, that's all."

Ron's grin died on his face, and he couldn't help but give Lord Greengrass a dull look. That's the excuse he's going with? Mine was loads better.

"I think father and son were having a heart-to-heart, and the father opened up just enough to get emotional." Mary smiled knowingly at her husband, who did nothing but stare back coldly. Bloody hell, she hit the nail on the head. "I'm glad you two have made up, the tension in this manor over the last couple of days has been maddening."

"You noticed?" Ron asked.

"Even the guards dragging their dirty shoes all over my polished floors have noticed," Mary replied. "Now, do either of you want anything from the shops? There is a sale at Madam Malkin's, and I simply must attend it."

"You shouldn't go out there alone, Mary," Ron said, losing his mirth. "It's not safe."

"I won't be going alone, I'll be taking ten of our guards with me," Mary replied. "Well? Do either of you need anything?"

"I will come with you," Lord Greengrass said. "Astoria has been owling me constantly for gifts, despite the fact that she's more than capable of purchasing them herself." She probably wants to show off to her friends.

"She enjoys your attention, love," Mary explained. "Don't forget that she's never lived away from us before."

"Sometimes, Lord Greengrass, I worry that if Mary wasn't around to explain human beings to you, you'd be emperor of the world by now," Ron said.

"Then, I should divorce her immediately," Lord Greengrass smirked. Ha!

"That would be funny, if I didn't control your sex life, Sebastian," Mary retorted.

"Ugh…" Ron immediately cringed. "Why would say that?"

"Mary, the boy…" Lord Greengrass lost his smirk. Boy? Did he just reverse my manhood again?!

"What? He's a man, now, isn't he?" Mary turned it around, walking away with a victorious smirk. "I'll be in the greeting room, husband. Try to hurry along, I don't want to miss out on the best Madam Malkin's has to offer."

"That was disturbing," Ron whispered to Lord Greengrass.

"Take this lesson to heart, Ron," Lord Greengrass whispered back. "No creature on this Earth has a sharper tongue than a woman, and it's always in your best interest to stay on their good side."

"Noted," Ron said. "Anyway, I'd best be off. My parents are no doubt waiting for me."

"You don't have to go," Lord Greengrass offered as they followed after Mary. "What I said yesterday, that was my anger speaking for me. If you want to stay here, I will speak to Arthur on your behalf."

"If I wanted to stay here, I wouldn't need you to," Ron smiled, patting Lord Greengrass on the back. "I have to return to Hogwarts after my trial, so I want to drop by The Burrow just to make sure that everything is ready. Dad wants to put up the Fidelius Charm, but he's waiting for me to come back first."

"Do drop by for dinner before you return to Hogwarts," Lord Greengrass said. "And as for your trial, do you need anything from me?"

"No, I've got everything sorted already," Ron replied. "Did you speak to our alliance?"

"They've already reached out to their friends on the Wizengamot, I have no doubt about that," Lord Greengrass smirked. "Your Aunt and Lady Longbottom, they are strong-willed women, and I'm glad that they consider me an ally."

"Those two are going to outlive us all, mark my words," Ron sniggered.

As they entered the greeting room, they spotted Mary having a one-sided conversation with Artyom, who was outright ignoring her completely.

"Ron, are you going back to The Burrow?" Mary turned around when she heard their footsteps, pointing towards his trunk. "Why? What's changed?"

"It's time, that's all," Ron replied. "After my trial is finished, I'll be returning to Hogwarts anyway. However, I'll be sure to drop by for dinner before I leave, I promise."

"It's not because you two had a disagreement about something, is it?" Mary asked, shooting her husband a warning look. Uh-oh. "Ron, do you feel pressured into leaving?" She straight up took my side, didn't even bother asking Lord Greengrass about it. That's sort of funny.

"Love… Really?" Lord Greengrass asked.

"No, Mary, I simply do as I please," Ron replied. "You really should know that by now."

"Good, there's no other way to live," Mary chuckled. "I'll be expecting you for dinner, Ron, don't forget."

---

Charlie Weasley's POV

Sunday 21st February, 1994 (The Burrow – Midday)

"Charlie, I don't like the look on your face," Kirsten whispered, shooting a quick look at the fireplace.

"He thinks he can say nasty shite like that to dad, and just walk away?" Charlie was fuming. "He threatened to hurt our dad, Kirsten, he's completely lost it!"

"Ron's in a lot of pain, Charlie," Bill sighed out. "This is why I don't tell you about these things, you don't think them through. Just… Just don't add fuel to the fire, I haven't seen mum in such good spirits since dad told us that Ron was coming home today. Don't ruin this for her." So, we just let him do whatever he pleases? How does that help the situation?

"I get that he's been through a lot, but he's crossed the fucking line this time," Charlie argued. "If you we don't show him that he can't behave this way, then how can we expect him to go back to being himself again?"

"I think that train has departed, Charlie," Bill said. "He's… He grew up, and we have to live with that. People change, it doesn't mean that you should stop loving them."

"Your brother is right, Charlie," Kirsten urged. "Ron's got enough problems already, don't push him further away by letting your anger-"

The fireplace roared to life, and Ron stepped through with a pleasant smile on his face. What the…? What the fuck?! He's smiling! He doesn't look upset at all!

"Good afternoon, Weasleys," Ron greeted, looking towards Charlie and Kirsten. "Kirsten, it's good to see you again. You look brilliant, I love the slightly longer hair, it suits you."

"Um… Thanks…?" Kirsten muttered, looking towards a surprised Bill.

The fireplace roared again, and much to everyone's shock and horror, a fucking giant crouched through the fireplace after Ron. What in the fuck?! Who the hell is that?!

Charlie and Bill were on their feet within a second, their wands drawn at the intruder.

"Here we go," Ron rolled his eyes. "Put those away before Artyom kicks your arses all over the house."

"These are your brothers?" the giant named Artyom asked, his booming voice laced with indifference.

"I know, compared to me, they're rather disappointing," Ron smirked.

"Get that fucking smirk off your face!" Charlie couldn't take it anymore.

"Okay…" Ron cocked an eyebrow, trading glances with Artyom.

"Did you threaten to beat on dad?!" Charlie demanded.

"I did," Ron nodded. "I still might do it, if he vexes me."

"You little shit!" Charlie moved around the table, only to be blocked by Artyom's large frame.

"Step back, or, I will break you in half, little man," Artyom warned far too calmly, making Charlie stop. What did he just say?

"Be careful with this one, Artyom, he enjoys putting his hands on me," Ron said, his voice turning horribly cold. "If he does hit me, break his knees for me, would you?" What… the… fuck…? "Don't kill him, just teach him a lesson that he won't forget."

"Understood," Artyom growled, sneering down at Charlie.

"Fucking try it, mate," Charlie pulled himself together.

"Charlie, stop it!" Kirsten snapped. "Just stop it, all right?!"

"Charlie," Bill said warningly, sizing up Artyom. "Not in mum's living room."

"What?" Kirsten looked to Bill.

"You touch my brother, and you won't be fighting one Weasley," Bill promised Artyom.

"Yes, yes… You're all very tough," Ron rolled his eyes. "Now, behave yourselves, I won't have you ruin my good mood today. Artyom, let's go say hello to my mum, eh? You remember her, don't you? Trust me, you'll love her cooking, it's even better than The Leaky Cauldron's."

With that, Ron headed out of the living room, disappearing into the kitchen. Artyom stared down at Charlie with an indifferent look for a couple more seconds before heading into the kitchen as well, Ron's trunk dragging behind him.

"Who the fuck is he?" Charlie asked Bill, who shook his head.

"Why do you always do that?!" Kirsten shoved past Charlie. "Why can't you just control yourself, Charlie?!" Fuck… Now, she's pissed off. Again.

Bill looked between Kirsten and Charlie, and once she was gone, Bill made his way over to Charlie's side.

"Are you two all right?" Bill asked. "Ever since last night, I've noticed this weird… tension… between you two. You're not fighting, are you?"

"Yeah, we're fighting," Charlie sighed out. "Actually, she's doing my fucking head in, is more like it."

"What happened?" Bill asked, shooting a look towards the kitchen.

"We had to resign before coming here, remember?" Charlie asked. "Well, Augusta Longbottom's British Dragon Sanctuary isn't exactly hiring people with 'low experience in the field', and Kirsten suggested that we get Ron's help on the matter, given that he knows Augusta personally."

"That sounds like a good plan to me," Bill said.

"What? Not you as well, Bill," Charlie frowned. I'm not getting my little brother's help in finding a job, it isn't right.

"He is her Eternal Friend-" Bill started.

"What's that?" Charlie asked.

"It's a Pure-Blood thing," Bill replied.

"Of course, it is," Charlie rolled his eyes. Bunch of pompous twats. They've turned Ron into an unbearable arsehole.

"Charlie, one word from Ron, and you two could be working at this reserve within days," Bill said. "Why aren't you going for it?"

"I'm his big brother, all right?" Charlie said firmly. "Finding me a job isn't his responsibility. It isn't right."

"My dear brother, you have said some stupid shite in your time, but that right there takes the cakes," Bill shook his head. "Ron has connections with some very powerful people, and you and Kirsten need work. Otherwise, you'll be forced to live here with mum and dad." Something that Kirsten is not very keen on, and honestly, neither am I. I love them both, but by Merlin, they know how to take over your life completely.

"Like you can talk," Charlie said defensively.

"Actually, I'm moving out to Sirius' soon," Bill said. What?! Since when?! "I can't bring girls home, I can't drink, I can't do anything in this house. Sorry, Charlie, but I've already made my arrangements."

"Can't Kirsten and I come with you?" Charlie asked.

"Who's going to pay your rent?" Bill asked.

"Sirius is charging you rent?" Charlie was shocked.

"Well, no, but I offered to pay it nonetheless," Bill replied, and then he gave Charlie his 'big brother' look. "Don't you dare use Sirius like that, Charlie. I already know what you're thinking. Mum and dad will have your hide, you know it."

"Sirius is my mate, I'm sure he won't mind me crashing at his place until I can sort out some work," Charlie said, his mind already made up. And he's a solid bloke to boot, this could work for us!

"It sounds a lot like you're abusing his hospitality," Bill said, sounding disappointed. "Charlie, I'm going to warn you right now, this won't end well for you. Mum and dad will go mental if you try this stunt."

"I think that mum and dad need to focus on bringing Ron back into line," Charlie said, heading towards the kitchen. "Did you hear him? I was dead right; he's completely lost his marbles." Threatening dad like that? Ordering that goon to break my knees? What the fuck is wrong with him? How did a sweet kid like Ron turn into such a cunt?

As they entered the kitchen, Charlie noticed that the large goon was nowhere to be found. He's probably upstairs, dropping off Ron's trunk. What is he? A bodyguard? Charlie and Bill made their way further into the kitchen, taking a seat at the table with Kirsten, Ron, Molly, and Arthur.

"I'm not sure I want that man in my house, Ron," Arthur was saying.

"He's here to protect me," Ron said reassuringly. "Believe me, Artyom is a solid bloke, even if he has the personality of a dirty dish towel."

"Ronald, don't speak like that about him," Molly clicked her tongue. "A man that big, he'd eat you whole."

"That… is a valid point, mum," Ron chuckled a little, making Molly smile.

"Why are you in such a bright mood today?" Arthur asked. "Shouldn't you be a bit more worried about this trial? I've asked around at the Ministry, Ron, Fudge is deadly serious about this."

"As am I," Ron said confidently, even the air around him felt different. He sounds so sure of himself. "Don't worry, dad, I've already gone through the panic and hysteria, and now, I'm just looking forward to bending Fudge over in front of the Wizengamot."

"Ron, honestly," Molly smacked his arm, earning another laugh out of him. "Someone ought to wash your mouth out with soap." She does seem happier now that's he's here, I can't deny that.

Ron suddenly turned his head and began to stare at Kirsten, making her jump a little in her seat.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Ron asked, his tone becoming hard.

"Um… What?" Kirsten looked around nervously.

"I know that look, you want something from me," Ron stated. "From the moment I first showed up, you've had that weird 'I'm too scared to approach him, but I really need something from him' look on your face. Trust me, I can recognize it immediately now. After all, my House-mates are constantly begging me for favours." All right, that's a little scary… "What is it, Kirsten? Just speak your mind, I'm not a Legilimens."

"Ron…" Arthur sighed out. "I think you're just seeing things."

"No, I'm not hallucinating," Ron kept his eyes fixed on Kirsten, making her shrink a little. "Not today, at least."

"What?" Bill looked around the table. "Are we just going to ignore that?"

Kirsten looked towards Charlie, giving him a meaningful look. No… No, don't do that, Kirsty. Don't fucking do it.

"Kirsten? Charlie?" Arthur looked between them. "What's going on here? What's Ron talking about?"

"Right, we're just ignoring it…" Bill muttered under his breath.

"If you don't tell me, I can't help you," Ron said, waiting for one of them to start speaking.

"It's nothing, dad," Charlie spoke up. "Ron doesn't know what he's-"

"How well do you know Augusta Longbottom, Ron?" Kirsten asked. Fuck's sake!

"Kirsten…" Charlie frowned at his girlfriend. "Don't."

"You two need work," Ron figured it out. Fuck! "When did you apply to work at her Dragon Reserve?"

"Before moving here, but we couldn't get past the recruiter," Kirsten came clean, much to Charlie's irritation. We're totally having a fight tonight! How could she do this?! She knows how I feel about it!

"Why not?" Ron asked, becoming rather serious.

"They already have our positions filled out," Kirsten replied. "Charlie's only just become a fully-fledged Dragon Tamer, whereas I applied for the Supervisor role."

"Ron, don't talk to her for us, all right?" Charlie said.

"Charlie… We need jobs…" Kirsten whispered, giving him a slightly vexed look.

"We can get them ourselves," Charlie didn't plan to back off.

"Kirsten, I'll talk to Lady Longbottom for you," Ron said, stealing her attention completely. "Don't stress over this, just give me a couple of days to sort things out, yeah? We'll have you wrestling Dragons before long."

"Really, Ron?" Kirsten asked, her voice filled with relief. "You'd do that?"

"It's no trouble," Ron smiled. "You were very kind to me, even when I was being a right prat to you. I haven't forgotten that. I'll take care of everything, I promise."

"What about Charlie?" Kirsten asked.

"Oh, he doesn't want my help," Ron looked towards Charlie, there was something really cold behind his little brother's eyes. "And like the man-child he is, he also doesn't want you to get help from me. It's kind of pathetic, really. Don't you agree, brother dearest?"

The table went dead silent, and for the life of him, Charlie couldn't stop staring into Ron's lifeless eyes. It was like they were pulling him in, isolating him from the rest of the world.

"There is monster in your attic," Artyom's voice broke the silence, spooking Molly so badly that she yelped. "Do you need help with it? I have killed many Ghouls with my bare hands."

"I love this Russian!" Ron grinned from ear to ear. "The shit he says… Brilliant!"

"He's a part of the Family," Arthur said slowly, looking towards his wife with a wary expression. Something is not right with Ron, he's… He's fucking scaring me…

"You have Ghoul in Family?" Artyom looked to Ron.

"Leave him be, mate," Ron said, relaxing into his chair. "He doesn't cause anyone any trouble, except when the house goes too quiet, then he starts banging on the pipes."

"I am in madhouse," Artyom shook his head, heading towards the back exit. "I will check perimeter, set up Protection Wards."

"What?" Arthur shot out of the chair. "Ron? Control him!"

"Dad, he's a top-quality mercenary, he knows what he's doing," Ron said. "Why don't you just go with him, and he can show you what he's up to? Oh, and while you're at it, please put the Fidelius Charm up as well. At this point, we're just asking the Dark Lord to murder the most prominent Blood-Traitor Family in Wizarding Europe."

"Actually, I wouldn't mind going with him," Bill stood up as well. "What kinds of wards are you planning to use?"

Artyom looked to Ron, clearly waiting for an order.

"Play nice, this is my Family," Ron said, a hint of authority in his voice. Who is this person?! It's not Ron! Last time I saw him, he was suicidal! Now, he's controlling the entire room like it's nothing!

"Come, boy," Artyom gestured Bill to follow him, leaving the house without another word.

Bill and Arthur followed Artyom out of the house, leaving the others in silence.

"That right there is a disaster waiting to happen," Ron pulled a face once they were gone.

"Do you know how much he eats in one sitting?" Molly asked. "I don't want to starve him by mistake." Really, mum? You're just going to accept that prick into this Family because Ron says so? What is happening here?

"He eats just a little more than I do," Ron replied.

"I don't think there's enough food in the pantry," Molly said thoughtfully, standing up to go check.

"Artyom and I won't be here for lunch," Ron said. "So, you don't have to worry about that, at least."

"Where are you going?" Molly asked quickly. "Ron… You just came home…"

"I have a meeting with…" Ron trailed off. "With someone very important. I can't miss it."

"With who?" Charlie asked out of curiosity. Some rich Pure-Blood, probably.

"Someone important," Ron closed his eyes. "I'm going to take a short nap, just to freshen up. I barely got any sleep last night. Mum, when Artyom comes back, please wake me up."

"Oh, of course, Ronnie," Molly agreed, leaving to check her pantry.

Charlie gave his girlfriend a genuinely upset look, shaking his head before leaving the table. I can't believe she's done this… And I can't believe that this is what Ron's turned into. Maybe mum and dad were right… Maybe we should've pulled him out of Slytherin before it was too late.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Sunday 21st February, 1994 (Diagon Alley – Afternoon)

"So, how did things go with my brother and dad?" Ron asked.

Despite Charlie's slightly aggressive behaviour and his belief that he was too good for Ron's help, the young redhead's good mood wasn't affected. His reconciliation with his mentor had helped Ron gain a sense of security and normalcy, reminding him of his first few days as Lord Greengrass' apprentice. I was trying so hard to impress him back then, and it's only now that I feel like I've earned a portion of his respect. He no doubt has a million questions, but he's not pushing me for answers. He understands that I have to do what must be done.

"Your father worries too much," Artyom said. "As for your brother… I like him, he is smart young man."

"What?" Ron was honestly a bit surprised. "One meeting with Bill, and you immediately think well of him? What the fuck?"

"First impressions matter," Artyom stated. "He has excellent knowledge of Russian Detection Wards; I was pleasantly surprised." Fucking Bill… Stupid, perfect cunt.

"Pfft… Whatever," Ron muttered under his breath. "Don't need wards when you've got lightning-"

"What are you saying?" Artyom asked.

"Nothing," Ron lied. "Look, there's The Pond, and I see Greta as well."

As the two wizards approached the raven-haired witch, Ron realized that the other occupants of the street were shooting looks at him and whispering behind his back. I guess Fudge's plans are out in the open now, let's see what he does next.

"Greta," Ron greeted.

"Mr. Weasley," Greta turned to face him, she too had baggy eyes after last night. "Amelia Bones is inside already; I was waiting for you to arrive before starting the interview."

"Good work," Ron commended her thinking. "Do you have your questions planned out?"

"I do," she patted her purse. "How much freedom do I have in there?"

"Ask her whatever you want," Ron replied.

"Really?" Greta asked. "You don't want to skirt the hard questions in order to keep her favour?"

"I couldn't give a rat's hairy arse about her favour," Ron chuckled. "After the shit we saw last night, I want some fucking answers. So, when you get in there, don't pull your punches with her. I want to know why this 'good and fair' woman sat on her arse while hundreds were condemned to death. I want to know why her Aurors didn't do anything to bring the Carrow Twins to justice."

"Then, let's get started," Greta said, a slight smile gracing her features. She's not like the other employees at The Quibbler, that much is clear. I should keep my eyes on her, figure out how to best utilize her without hindering myself due to her strong beliefs.

"After you," Ron walked over and opened the door.

"Thank you," Greta said, entering the restaurant.

"Are you coming?" Ron asked Artyom.

"I will stay out here, keep eyes on street," Artyom was already scanning for any potential threats.

"You don't want to eat lunch-?"

"I am working," Artyom said firmly. "Go about your business." Okay, then…

Ron entered the restaurant, making his way over to Rudolph.

"Mr. Weasley, it has been too long since you've graced us with your presence," Rudolph smiled at him, greeting him with a respectful bow.

"No need for that, Rudolph," Ron said. "It's good to see you again, how have you been?"

"Just getting by, one day after another," Rudolph replied, clearly pleased that Ron had remembered him.

"Aren't we all?" Greta started. "Is Madam Bones here? We have business with her."

"She is waiting for you downstairs," Rudolph replied. "Mr. Weasley, I trust that I don't have to show you the way."

"I know where to go," Ron smiled. "Thanks for the help."

"It is my pleasure," Rudolph went back to writing in his ledger, while Ron led Greta towards the VIP section.

"Madam Bones has done well for herself, hasn't she?" Ron asked Greta. "I've heard that they only allow their most prized patrons into the VIP room."

"She is a successful woman in a man's world," Greta said, agreeing with Ron.

"You respect her," Ron noted.

"You don't?" Greta asked in response.

"I do," Ron replied. "But not enough to ignore the fact that she's a politician."

"Then, you and I are of the same mind, Mr. Weasley," Greta said. "People in power must be held accountable; otherwise, we get situations like this party on our hands." She's definitely right about that.

"Where have you been all my life?" Ron chuckled, leading the way downstairs.

"Working for people without an ounce of integrity," Greta replied, her dry tone reminded Ron of Professor McGonagall.

"Do you feel like that's changed now that you work for me?" Ron asked.

"It is too early to tell," Greta replied. "However, from what I've seen so far, you are very different from the fools who run the Daily Prophet. The fact that you spent all night working alongside your staff is proof enough."

"Good," Ron suddenly stopped, looking back at Greta. "I want us on the same page, Greta. I will always value your opinion and your advice, but I am still your employer, and as such, the final say is always mine. Do we have an understanding?"

"I can respect that, Mr. Weasley," Greta said after a few moments. "I'm not as blind as to think that I don't owe you for giving me a chance, despite my reputation."

"The Daily Prophet wronged you, and in doing so, they lost a talented journalist," Ron started walking again. "I won't make the same mistake." Their loss, my gain.

Madam Bones was sitting in a far corner, her eyes already fixed on the stairs as Ron and Greta came into view. There she is, time to get this interview started.

"Good afternoon, Madam Bones," Ron greeted the Head of Magical Law, pulling a chair out for Greta before taking his own.

"Mr. Weasley," Madam Bones greeted back, looking towards Greta. "Miss. Thornburg."

"You know of me?" Greta asked.

"Gawain Robards told me about you," Madam Bones replied. "He says that you were very thorough when you collected his account."

"I got most of what I need from him, he was very helpful," Greta pulled out a notepad from her purse. "I'd like to get started as soon as possible; I know that you are a busy woman."

"Very well," Madam Bones said, taking a sip of her sweetened water. What about food? I'm hungry.

"Don't mind me, ladies," Ron said, raising his hand in order to catch a waitress' attention. "I'm just going to supervise and eat some lunch. Do either of you want anything?"

"I have already taken the liberty to order for us," Madam Bones told Ron. "As Miss. Thornburg said, I am a busy woman." Yeah, busy being a useless cunt.

"How thoughtful of you," Ron said, gesturing Greta to get started.

"In your opinion, were the guests attending the Carrow Twins' party committing illegal acts upon the Muggles and Muggle-Borns found within the estate's dungeons?" Greta asked. Starting off strong, I like it.

"Yes, my Department has been in contact with St. Mungo's, and according to the reports we have received, the Muggles and Muggle-Borns endured weeks of abuse," Madam Bones replied. "Many injuries had already scarred, further proving that the Carrow Twins were abusing their captives long before their estate was attacked."

"There have been rumours about the Carrow Twins' circle of friends for a long time, dating back to the Great War, even," Greta started. "Was your Department unaware of these rumours? And if not, then why weren't the twins brought in for questioning?"

Madam Bones drew in a deep breath, straightening up a little. Nervous?

"My Department was aware of the rumours," Madam Bones replied, her strong jaw clenching. "However, we never brought the Carrow Twins, or their known associates, in for questioning. The rumours served as circumstantial evidence at best, and therefore, we were never given warrants to search their properties."

"You are the Head of the Department of Magical Law, it is within your power to grant your Aurors any warrants they need," Greta reminded Madam Bones. "Why didn't you?"

"I issued three separate warrants at the start of my run," Madam Bones replied. "They were overturned by the Minister, Cornelius Fudge."

"In your opinion, what was Minister Fudge's reasoning behind this decision?" Greta asked. She's so efficient, it's brilliant! I like this witch, even if she's a bit too nosey.

"I cannot answer for him," Madam Bones replied. "However, my Department has recently discovered information that may shed light on this matter."

Madam Bones Wandlessly Conjured a folder into her hand, offering it to Ron. Woah… Can't say that she's not skilled, she did that so effortlessly. This must be what Crouch was looking for, I guess he got the Goblins to play along. Ron took the folder and opened it, the documents inside resembled Lord Greengrass' ledger. Bank statements.

"The three warrants I issued were on these following dates," Madam Bones said. "November 5th, 1983, February 17th, 1984, and lastly, July 7th, 1985. If you look through the documents, I just provided you with, you will see that the Minister received a large sum of gold from the Carrow Family a day after each warrant was issued, and the very next day, he nullified my warrants." Unbelievable…

"Is it usual for a Minister of Magic to receive three thousand Galleons as a gift?" Ron asked a question. "On three separate occasions, and from the same Family no less?"

"There is no law against giving someone else money, this was all done legally through Gringotts," Madam Bones replied. "I am merely pointing out the coincidence."

"Did you question why the Minister nullified your warrants?" Greta asked.

"I did the first time, but I was quickly met with stonewalling," Madam Bones replied. "It was made abundantly clear that I would be cut out of the loop if I continued to ask questions."

"Isn't that your job, though?" Ron asked. "To hold people accountable to Magical Law?"

"It is," Madam Bones replied.

"So, you didn't do your job properly," Ron said. "Am I correct?"

"Mr. Weasley, I am not the enemy here-"

"Your neglect has cost lives, Madam Bones," Ron said, his voice turning ice-cold. "Answer the question; did you do your job to the best of your ability?"

Madam Bones just stared at Ron, but his unblinking gaze seemed to be getting to her. Answer Us, cockroach!

"I did not," Madam Bones admitted, she was too honourable to lie given the gravity of the crimes committed. I'll ask Greta to cut this part out, I just wanted this tart to know the damage she did by keeping her silence.

Just as Greta was about to continue, a waiter walked over with three steaks and a side of boiled vegetables, placing the plates in front of them. That's it? A steak each? And just one side?

"Enjoy your meals," the waiter said with a smile, leaving to attend to another table. Might as well get started.

"Can you comment on the foreign Lords and Ladies attending the gathering?" Greta asked, ignoring her food.

"As of yet, we have not alerted the other Ministries about their citizens," Madam Bones replied. "This is still an ongoing investigation; we are doing our best to gather the facts first."

"Very well, let's move on to my next question," Greta said, writing everything down. This is a good fucking steak! "Amongst the dead was Chief Ruven, the respected Chieftain of the Gamthir Herd of Centaurs. It is well-known that Chief Ruven was currently embroiled in a civil case against the Ministry for more land, a case that has been met with much opposition by the Old Families, despite the Old Families not even being involved in said case. Do you believe that he was murdered because of his case against the Ministry?"

"We have gone through the memories of the Centaurs found alive at the estate, and in those memories, Alecto and Amycus Carrow were found preaching about the rights of the Old Families," Madam Bones replied. "Unfortunately, memories are considered invalid evidence due to Memory Modification Charms."

"Were any memories recovered that could lead the Aurors to the attackers?" Ron asked. "And if so, is that a priority for your Department? Regardless of the circumstances, they must surely be brought to justice."

"We have found evidence of memory tampering," Madam Bones replied. "But whoever was behind it was talented, they completely wiped hours' worth of memories from the Muggles and Muggle-Borns found within the estate. We cannot recover what no longer exists." Wohoo! Safe!

"In your opinion, how many murders have been committed by the Carrow Twins over the last decade alone?" Greta asked.

"It is difficult to say for certain, given that we only uncovered the truth recently," Madam Bones started. "However, if the Carrow Twins were hosting similar gatherings each year, as the rumours suggest; we could be looking at over five hundred cases of murder, assault, rape, kidnapping, and torture."

As soon as the words left Madam Bones' mouth, Ron was filled with vindication and a sense of duty. I did the right thing; they didn't deserve to live after committing so many atrocities. Fuck what anyone thinks, I'm only getting started with these bastards. By the time I'm done with them, they'll be afraid of their own fucking shadows.

"What of Arcturus Carrow, the Head of the Carrow Family?" Greta asked. "Do you believe he was a part of this conspiracy?"

"There is no evidence to suggest that he was," Madam Bones replied. Arcturus Carrow, he's Hestia and Flora's father. I should ask them about him, I actually don't know anything about this particular Lord. It's like he doesn't exist.

"Has your Department been in contact with the Muggle Government about their missing citizens?" Greta asked.

"Yes, my Department is in the process of handing over the captives even as we speak," Madam Bones replied.

"What do the Muggles make of this?" Ron asked.

"Tensions are high, that is all I can say," Madam Bones replied. "Albus Dumbledore is acting as our in-between, he is friends with the Muggle Minister."

"Albus Dumbledore is no longer being treated at St. Mungo's?" Greta asked.

"He… left with the help of his Phoenix," Madam Bones replied. Ha! Can't tell the old man what to do, he's still Albus fucking Dumbledore. "St. Mungo's has discharged him, but only because they cannot find him."

"Has Albus Dumbledore made any comments on this case?" Greta asked.

"He has condemned both the Carrow Twins, and those who murdered them and their guests," Madam Bones replied. "My Department is taking a similar stance on the subject."

"Do you have any leads as to who was behind the attack?" Greta asked.

"I cannot make any comments about that," Madam Bones replied. You don't have shit; I saw your files. Emilia cleaned up well after herself, and the everyday wizard isn't going to care about those degenerate cunts. If anything, they're going to hail me as a hero, as absurd as that sounds.

"Just one final question about this case," Greta started. "At the estate, there was decisive evidence of Necromancy being in play, a crime that comes with a life sentence in Azkaban. Were the Carrow Twins and their guests dabbling in the Dark Arts and Necromancy? And if so, can you comment on why?"

"It is difficult to say if the Carrow Twins, or their guests, were behind the use of Necromancy," Madam Bones replied. "However, judging from what we know so far about the attackers and their motives, it can be assumed that they were not behind the use of Necromancy. And if that is the case, then it would be safe to assume that the guests were behind it."

"Do we have your permission to share this exclusive in our upcoming publication?" Greta asked.

"You do," Madam Bones replied. "Now, please allow me a moment to collect myself, it has been a harrowing few days…" No doubts about that, but the day is finally breaking, and the forecast is looking good. Well, for me, at least. Fudge and his gaggle of cunts, not so much.

---

Daphne Greengrass' POV

Sunday 21st February, 1994 (The Northern Wing – Late Afternoon)

Daphne was nearing the end of her rope…

Ron's upcoming trial, a horrible turn of events that Ron hadn't bothered to share, was all she could think about. Theo had really hit the nail on the head, something that he was all too eager to rub in everyone's faces, even if it did nothing but further splinter the group.

Millie hadn't taken the news of Ron's trial well, blaming herself for the entire mess. The boys certainly weren't helping, especially Blaise, who was afraid that Ron's trial would distract him from locating Lord De Luca. If Daphne didn't understand why Blaise was so worried, she would have given him an earful about how selfish he was being lately.

By the time lunchtime had rolled around, Millie had seemingly vanished from Hogwarts. They had searched most of the castle, including the Sanctuary, but none of them had found her. Theo, always feeling the need to be proven right, was quick to point out that 'Millicent has made her bed', but Daphne wasn't so quick to abandon her friends. She hadn't abandoned Ron, despite the way he treated them in his many moods, and as such, she wasn't going to abandon Millie over poor timing and her being forced to choose between Family and friends.

She could see just how broken up Millie was over this whole debacle, and that alone proved that Millie didn't have any ill intentions against Ron; she had just wanted to protect her parents.

When Ron eventually returned to Hogwarts; she was going to do her best to help him move past Millie's choice. Ron was a lot more reasonable than people gave him credit for, Daphne knew this better than anyone. The fact that he hadn't lashed out at Millie yet was proof that, somewhere deep down, he understood why she had warned her parents.

It wasn't going to be easy, Ron was stubborn and prone to emotional outbursts, but Daphne was going to try nonetheless because it would bring all of her remaining friends some peace after everything they had been forced to endure.

Thankfully, Pansy was trying to help Daphne keep some semblance of peace within the group, but it was an uphill battle. With Millie's guilt, and the boys' distant behaviour, Pansy was quickly becoming overly-emotional. She had even broken out in tears at breakfast this morning over the news of Ron's trial, and since then; she had only stopped when Malfoy had told her to 'shut the fuck up already, you're only giving everyone a headache at this point'.

Suffice to say, Daphne still loathed Malfoy; however, she tolerated him simply because Ron had asked her to. Though, Ron never fully explain his reasonings, he just expects people to do as he says without question.

"Daphne, stop!" Pansy suddenly hissed, grabbing onto Daphne's hand. "Look over there, by that apple tree!"

"Is it Millie?" Daphne asked, spotting the missing Slytherin.

Millie was huddled up next to the tree, her face hidden behind her knees. Oh, no… Now, Millie's disappearance made a lot more sense; she didn't want to get caught crying in front of the others.

Before Daphne could think of an approach, Pansy had shot past her, unable to control her emotions when greeted with the sight of her friend crying all by herself. Daphne said nothing, keeping her thoughts organized as she walked over and joined the two girls.

"Millie?" Pansy whispered gently, kneeling down in front of her.

"Go… Go away…" Millie sobbed from behind her knees.

"Millie, we've been looking all over for you," Daphne said, leaning against the apple tree. The boys are probably at the boathouse by now, and that's a really long walk back. Still, I'm glad that Pansy and I found Millie first.

"Theo was… right…" Millie sobbed again. "I ruined Ron's… life…"

"That's not true!" Pansy was quick to shout. "Daphne, tell her!" Control yourself, Pansy, you're not helping me in calming her down by yelling like that. Use your head, not your heart.

"Pansy's right, Millie," Daphne sat down, rubbing circles on her back as Ron often did for Daphne whenever she was upset. "Even the boys understand that this trial isn't taking place because of you, this is all Minister Fudge's doing. His popularity has taken a severe beating because of Ron's article on the Werewolves, this was going to happen sooner or later. You know that Ron was always going to publish that article, don't you?"

"He must really… hate me…" Millie whimpered. "Why else wouldn't he come to us… yesterday…? He never wants to see me again…" Ron does weird things like this all the time, and I've learnt to get the facts first before assuming anything about his motives.

"Until Ron says so himself, you are just assuming he feels that way," Daphne tried. "Millie, please, just come back to Slytherin with us." I still need to speak to the delegates of each year, I need to plan another training session for the second years, I also need to write to Lady Heroux and wish her a happy birthday for tomorrow, and then, I need to do my homework… All of this while trying my best not to obsess over Ron's trial.

"They're going to take away his Magic, just like Theo said," Millie said, sounding guiltier than ever.

"Ron won't give up without a fight," Pansy said. "He always comes through, Millie, and this time, it won't be any different." Yes, he always comes through, but not all of him survives the journey. I still remember what he was like back in first year, always shouting and laughing…

A small nostalgic smile crossed her face against her will, she often missed the ill-mannered redhead who had won her heart with a golden pin. People change, Daphne, and you know that Ron is still the same where it really counts.

"You don't know that," Millie coughed out. "What if he loses…? What if we never get to see him again? It'll be all my fault…"

"Honestly, Millie…" Daphne started, she needed to hurry this along. "I think all you did was speed up how things were always going to play out. Ron would never sit around on that article, he's incapable of stopping himself when he sees someone in trouble." I used to think that was his worst quality, but now, I know that without it; he wouldn't be Ronald Weasley. "And as for the Ministry, they were always going to fight him on this. Even right now, the students at this school are questioning the Ministry's actions unlike ever before, so you can only imagine how the adults are behaving out there. Ron picked this fight long before he learned about what your parents were up to, and you know that Ron never leaves anything unfinished." Please, just see reason.

"You did what we were all taught to do from the day we were born, Millie," Pansy spoke up. "You protected your Family from an outside threat, and whether Ron see this or not; he was a threat to your parents."

"My parents are slavers…" Millie finally managed to say, her voice tearing. "How many… girls like Maya have they… sold to Goblins…? How could they do this to other people…? I thought they were differ… different… I thought Ron was lying to me, to turn me against them… But he wasn't, he was only telling me the truth." I don't think any of us really know our parents.

"I've always worshiped my father," Daphne confessed, moving her arm around Millie's shoulder. "In my eyes, he could do absolutely no wrong. But now, I know that he isn't exactly a good person… He would walk through Fiendfyre for his Family, but other than that, he doesn't really care for anyone else." When I told him about the Squibs, and how one of them reminded me of Astoria; he immediately told me off for comparing Tori to a Squib… He didn't even care that a girl no older than ten was almost forced to sell her body for mere Knuts if it weren't for Ron. Father only cared about the fact that she was a Squib… Ron really opened my eyes, and I'm never closing them again. Merlin, he did always call us spoiled brats, and now, I know why. What the fuck do we know about the real world? Nothing. We've never wanted for anything, let alone felt hunger and desperation.

"My parents are right pricks," Pansy tried, taking Millie's hands in hers. "That doesn't have to define you, Millie, isn't that what Ron tries to tell us all the time? To make our own choices? Well, we're your family too, Millie… Please stop crying, or, I'll start crying…"

"How am I supposed to look past this?" Millie finally raised her head, her eyes bloodshot and snot hanging from her nose. "I can't ignore it, but… But I don't want to lose them either… I love them."

Daphne quickly pulled out her handkerchief, gently cleaning her friend's face before holding onto her even more tightly.

"We all know what's coming, Millie," Daphne whispered. "We all know that he's back. Do you really want to become a Death-Eater? Because as much as I hate to admit it, all of our parents chose to side with a monster in the Great War. The circumstances were different for all of them, but that doesn't change the fact that they made an oath to him, and I doubt You-Know-Who forgets about such things."

"Why couldn't he just stay dead?!" Millie suddenly screamed, letting out a broken sob right after. "Everything is his fault… My parents, Ron's brain damage, everything…" I really hope he dies a painful death; I'll never forgive him for what he did to my Family.

"Things are only going to get harder from here, Millie," Daphne didn't sugar-coat it. "After Tracey…" Daphne felt a strong pang of guilt, she hadn't visited Tracey in nearly three days. "After Tracey, we know that Ron was always right. We're not safe anymore, no one is. If we don't stick together, then we'll all be in twice the amount of danger. And… And I hate to say this, but if you choose your parents' side, then you'll end up serving the Dark Lord, just like they do. Sooner or later, they will bring you to him, you're smart enough to know that."

Daphne then stood up, shooting Pansy a meaningful look. I need to get moving, I've already spent all of my free time for the day on this search.

"Stay with her, Pans," Daphne said. "I… I have so much work to get through today. If I see the boys, I'll let them know that we found her."

"There's a delegate meeting on today, isn't there?" Millie asked weakly, seemingly remembering her role within Slytherin House.

"There is, Theo and I have been doing your third of the work," Daphne sighed out. "Millie, I don't want to say this, but I'm really struggling here without Ron… If you don't get your act together, then… Then, I'll have to give Malfoy your delegate position." I wanted to choose Pansy, but Theo's right. Pansy isn't interested in this sort of work, whereas Blaise cares very little about working with others right now. Malfoy is the best option after Millie, and even I can't deny that he's slowly returned to form ever since Ron started sheltering him from Flint.

"I'll take care of her," Pansy promised, moving over and wrapping her arms around her best friend.

Daphne handed her handkerchief to Millie, giving the upset girl a weak smile before departing. Now, the real work begins… Merlin, Ron… How do you do this every single day without complaint? I feel like I've aged months within the last five days alone.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Sunday 21st February, 1994 (Diagon Alley – Late Afternoon)

"I must return to my work," Madam Bones said, checking her pocket watch. "Do you have everything you need from me?"

"We do," Ron replied, and Greta gave him a nod. "Be assured, Madam Bones; the Daily Prophet will not make a mockery of the truth this time around."

"Make sure that you don't implicate me in how you got Fudge's bank records," Madam Bones said, taking a step back. "It will give him a way to ruin my investigation into him, as this is confidential information."

"I don't give up my sources," Greta said. "I hope that, if you find any more proof against Fudge, you will reach out to The Quibbler once again."

"I will," Madam Bones promised, Apparating with a pop immediately after.

"That went well," Ron smiled at Greta. "You were amazing in there; I was honestly blown away."

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Greta said, her expression not changing in the slightest. "I will go to Headquarters and finish writing up the article at once."

"Actually, before you go, there is one thing that I need to discuss with you," Ron said, keeping his smile in place. "The part where Madam Bones admitted to not doing her job properly… We can't put that in The Quibbler."

"Why not?" Greta blinked.

"Because it would undermine her when she eventually runs for Minister," Ron stated bluntly.

"She's running for Minister?" Greta asked. "How did you come by this?" I set it up, that's how.

"I don't give up my sources," Ron replied.

"Cute…" Greta gave him a deadpan look.

"Aren't I?" Ron gave his best smile. "Still, all jokes aside, a lot of people need Madam Bones in charge for them to get justice after Fudge's run. People like them."

Greta and Ron looked around Diagon Alley, watching the disheartened and homeless people of Knockturn Alley. There wasn't a single smile to be seen anywhere, even the children couldn't bring themselves to play and laugh with each other. I really need to get my shit together; these people need proper shelter.

"What about the truth?" Greta asked Ron. "Does that not matter to you?"

"The truth is important to me, but these people right here… That's what I'm really fighting for," Ron replied. "I know I'm asking you to do something that goes against your beliefs, but sometimes, compromises have to be made. We both know that Madam Bones is a fair and just witch, and right now, we really need a leader who puts integrity over self-interest. This country needs to heal, Greta… Or, it's going to die."

"Then, why did you even ask her that question?" Greta asked.

"Because I wanted her to admit it," Ron replied. "I wanted her to know that she failed a lot of innocent people, it will help keep her grounded going forward. I know for a fact that failure is the best teacher, no one wants to make the same mistake twice." That, and I wanted to cause her some pain for her crimes. She had real power in her hands, and she squandered it.

"I…" Greta started, looking around again. "Is she really running for Minister?"

"Not openly, but once Fudge is kicked to the curb, she'll share her interest in the position with the Wizengamot," Ron replied.

"Is this why you partnered The Quibbler with her?" Greta realized. "You knew she would run for Minister, and now, her name is directly attached to your business. Mr. Weasley, what game are you playing here?" I'm playing chess, and Amelia Bones is one of my bishops.

"I just want to help people," Ron shrugged. "But I can't do that if the people at the top accuse me of treason every time I offer my hand to the needy."

"I see…" Greta kept her eyes locked onto his. She's too damn sharp. "Very well, Mr. Weasley. I understand."

"Thank you, Greta," Ron gave her arm a pat as he looked back. "Artyom, you'll help her once she's finished, yeah? Get this to Gornuk, who'll take it to the printing company. I'll meet you at The Leaky Cauldron at six, and from there, we can go back home." While they get this finished, I'll head over to Emilia's.

Artyom gave a nod, gesturing Greta to follow him.

"Time is short, come," Artyom said, and after giving Ron a parting nod, Greta followed after the Russian wizard. I've got everything ready for my trial, it's time Fudge learns what real power looks like.

---

Emilia Travers' POV

Sunday 21st February, 1994 (Travers Manor – Late Afternoon)

Jones threw a punch at her head, taking full advantage of his longer reach. Emilia, however, was much quicker, easily ducking under his punch and following up with a swift uppercut. Jones reeled back, a stunned look on his face. Quick, before he recovers! Following through, Emilia landed a combination of quick jabs on his face, followed by a strong kick to his sternum. Stunned and winded, it's over.

The man fell on his arse with a wheeze, holding his chest as he struggled to breathe. The other mercenaries broke out into laughter, clanking their cups and calling for more sport. Emilia drew in a deep breath, finding her centre before walking over to Jones and offering him her hand.

"Ugh… I think you broke something…" Jones groaned, accepting her help.

She pulled him up and patted him on the shoulder, a smirk on her face.

"Don't grunt like a boar when you attack, you give yourself away," Emilia advised. "Control your breathing, it will save your life one day."

"Lesson learned…" Jones bent forward, trying to catch his breath.

"Anyone else?!" Emilia turned to her soldiers; her arms raised at her sides. "Who else wants to step into the pit?! Don't be shy!"

Adaego chugged her drink and stepped onto the sandpit, which made the crowd grow wild with excitement.

"Don't let her get close, Andy!" someone called out. "She'll drop you like she dropped me!"

"I was wondering when you'd step forward," Emilia stretched her back.

"Just needed some liquid courage, Ma'am," Adaego admitted, a cheeky smile on her face. "Been watching you beat the men all day, maybe a woman is what's needed to end your streak?"

Emilia liked the sound of that, though she had no plans to hold back on Adaego. However, just as she got into her fighting stance, Godrey popped onto the sandpit.

"Mistress, a visitor seeks an audience with you," Godrey reported. A visitor?

"Is it Audrey?" Emilia asked, wiping the sweat from her brow.

Emilia would never admit this to Audrey's parents, but she loved having the little miscreant over. After growing up in a Family that was constantly at each other's throats due to a series of unfortunate events, Audrey represented the bright future of the Travers Family. That, and her antics never fail to amuse me.

"No, thank the Gods," Godrey replied, he wasn't fond of the girl who had carved up his curtains with kitchen knives. "It is someone of consequence, Mistress. You had best see to this."

Without another word, Godrey popped out of sight, no doubt returning to his duties.

"We will continue this after I return," Emilia told Adaego, heading towards the path leading to the manor. "What are you all so quiet for?! Keep celebrating!"

Cheers broke out again, with many asking for refills and issuing challenges to their peers. Emilia, however, wasted no time in returning to her manor, not caring that she wasn't exactly covered. Unlike most Ladies, Emilia was rather proud of her body; it was the culmination of years of hard work and discipline. She was even proud of her scars, most of which she earned in her countless sparring sessions with her sensei. I wonder if that lecherous geezer is doing well, last time I saw him, he was passed out drunk from drinking Sake all night long with Sensei Kaneda.

The moment she entered the living room, she spotted Ronald Weasley. Ah, the hero of the hour! The young wizard was admiring the wooden mural of Raijin and Fujin that hung above the grand fireplace, clearly awed by the fine craftsmanship.

"Do you like it?" Emilia asked, stopping behind him. "I had it made before I returned from Japan."

Ron turned around with a smile, only for that smile to falter as he looked her over.

"Um… What are you wearing?" Ron asked, eyeing her sports bra and leggings. "Also, why is there blood on your knuckles? Are you torturing someone?" Is that what he thinks I do in my spare time?

Emilia chuckled softly, amused by his vivid imagination.

"Firstly, this is Muggle clothing, it's all the craze right now," Emilia started. "Unlike wizards, Muggles understand that, sometimes, even we women enjoy exercise. Secondly, I was not torturing some poor fool; my men and I are celebrating with drink and sport."

Ron nodded slowly; his eyes unblinking as they studied her.

"Did someone carve you with the world's sharpest chisel? I mean, you look fit, don't get me wrong, but I'm a little scared of you right now," Ron said, cocking an eyebrow at her abs and shredded arms. An odd compliment, but I shall accept it nonetheless. "Also, that tattoo on your right arm is fucking brilliant! What is that? I've never seen a Dragon like that one before. That is a Dragon, right?"

"Oh, this," Emilia decided to entertain his curiosity, giving him a better view of her right arm.

Ron studied the serpent-like Dragon that covered her entire sleeve, it actually led into the tattoo that covered most of her back, depicting the first Ronin's day long battle with the Dragon from the West.

"This is the Dragon from the West," Emilia explained. "The Ronin Order was founded after a stray Chinese Fire-Dancer flew over to Japan, unleashing untold destruction upon both the Muggle and Wizarding communities. At the time, no one in Japan had seen such a beast, and many began to believe that the Kami, the Gods, were punishing them from straying off the right path."

"When all hope was seemingly lost, the legendary wizard, Kazuya Yamamoto, challenged the beast on top of Mount Kita," Emilia continued. "With rudimentary Magic in one hand, and his late father's katana in the other, Kazuya slew the beast that had brought nothing but fire and death to Japan. The fierce battle, however, cost Kazuya his own life, and to this day, many wizards and witches honour him by leaving offerings at the base of Mount Kita, grateful to the brave hero who gave up his own life so that his country could have a future."

"Inspired by his valour and honour, a band of brave men and women built a dojo at the peak of Mount Kita, which would eventually go on to become the training place of all Magical Ronin," Emilia finished, smiling when she saw how pleased Ron looked. He's just like Audrey, smiling from ear to ear whilst listening to the story of a brave hero. Why do I keep forgetting that he's still so young?

"That's wicked," Ron beamed. "Kazuya sounds like he was a proper lad." A proper lad?

"He was indeed a 'proper lad'," Emilia chuckled again.

"And what does this mural show?" Ron turned to face Raijin and Fujin again. "They look like monsters to me."

"They are Raijin and Fujin," Emilia said, pointing to them respectively. "Raijin is the God of lightning, thunder, and storms, whereas Fujin is God of wind. They are often seen together, protecting Japan's shores from invaders and bringing prosperity to the land."

"They're good guys?" Ron asked.

"Do not mistake their demonic visage for their character," Emilia replied. "They may look like Oni, demons, but they are protectors of the weak."

"I really should visit Japan," Ron mused. "It sounds like it has quite the history."

"Is this why you have come here?" Emilia asked. "To learn more about Wizarding Japan?"

"No, I came here to talk about what happened with the Pure-Bloods," Ron looked to Emilia, losing his smile. "Butchering them like that was foolish, Emilia. You made them look like they were the victims, it's made my job harder than it needs to be."

"You disapprove?" Emilia was a little surprised. I did lose control, yes, but the mission was still a resounding success.

"Oh, no, I'm very glad that you made them suffer," Ron clarified. "I'm just saying that, in the future, let's not make the Death-Eaters look like they're the victims. The public has to turn on them for our plans to work, and that won't happen if some dumb cunt starts feeling sorry for them. And trust me, there are always dumb cunts around." He makes a valid point; I did not think of it myself.

"You haven't led me astray yet," Emilia said, agreeing to maintain more control over her rage in the future. "Come, let's sit down. I will have some refreshments brought over."

"Oh, thanks," Ron started smiling again. "I had a pretty small lunch, so I'm all for that idea."

They moved over to the sofas, with Emilia taking her usual seat, which directly faced the fireplace and the mural. Emilia wasted no time in asking Godrey to bring them something to eat, and within seconds, the old Elf returned with a tray full of baked goods and English tea.

"Ah, you're a doll," Ron smiled at Emilia, sipping his cup of tea and relaxing. "It's been a long day, and there's no better cure for fatigue than a nice, hot cuppa cha."

"Agreed," Emilia said, taking a jam croissant from the tray.

"You should know that Madam Bones has come to me with details of the massacre," Ron said. "The plan worked; I'm now controlling the story completely." Excellent.

"I read about your upcoming trial, my friend," Emilia said. "Do you require my assistance? I doubt you need it, you're far smarter than Fudge, but nonetheless, my offer still stands."

"I appreciate that," Ron said. "But no, I have Fudge where I want him. It's best if you and I don't associate in public, given our secret relationship."

Emilia cocked an eyebrow, only to be met with a shit-eating grin.

"I don't think your parents would approve of a Lady like me, Ron," Emilia eventually said, making Ron snigger.

"Was that a joke? From the Emilia Travers?" Ron all but giggled.

"I enjoy cracking the occasional joke, if my mood is good," Emilia smirked. And if I'm in the company of my friends.

"We were due a win," Ron nodded to himself. "Now, I just need to spank Fudge, and then, I can focus on… other plans."

"Such as hunting down the Dark Lord?" Emilia asked.

"That is one of my plans, yes," Ron replied. "Tell me, did you uncover anything useful from Alecto?"

"No, her memories were protected by the Fidelius Charm," Emilia replied.

"Of course, they were…" Ron rolled his eyes. "Does that bastard have a safeguard for everything? Finding him is next to impossible, and even if we do catch up with him, he could still destroy us with relative ease. We can't forget that he's still the most powerful Dark Wizard in the history of Wizarding Kind, despite his cowardice."

"The smart choice here would be to lead Dumbledore towards the Dark Lord," Emilia suggested. "Only he is capable of facing You-Know-Who, but given his current status, it might be wiser to not goad the beast while it licks its wounds."

"You want to leave the Dark Lord alone?" Ron asked.

"No, I want him to step outside to take his revenge," Emilia replied. "As long as he's behind the Fidelius Charm, we can't find him. So, we should instead prepare for his inevitable retaliation."

"Oh, that makes sense," Ron nodded. "All right, let's do that, then. It'll give me time to focus on other matters." Should I bring up my idea of creating our own organization? I don't think it will be long before Dumbledore figures out that I played a role in the massacre, he's seen my handiwork before. I doubt he'll allow me to stay on with-

"Emilia?" Ron called. "What's the matter? You've gone quiet all of a sudden."

"It won't be long until the Order sends me away," Emilia told Ron. "Dumbledore has seen my work before, he is too intelligent to not make a connection between me and the massacre."

"Actually, he thinks I'm behind it," Ron told her. "I took the entire blame, Emilia, you don't have to worry about anything." Pardon?

"You did that? For me?" Emilia was rather shocked, she knew that Ron valued his privacy, even going as far as to wear that creepy mask. "Why? I thought you and Dumbledore were close, surely he was not pleased with you."

"He was onto me from the start," Ron explained. "I figured that he wouldn't go after me, but he would go after you. So, I made it sound like I was behind the whole thing, including the executions. I imagine that the Headmaster will tear me a new one in the near future."

Emilia didn't know what to say, though she did know that she needed to be thankful to her friend for moving Dumbledore's attention away from her. I can't afford an enemy like Dumbledore, not right now.

"Thank you, Ron," Emilia gave a respectful nod. "I am honoured by your friendship."

"Um… And I'm honoured by yours," Ron said, a hint of hesitation in his voice. "Sorry, Emilia… I'm not used to this formal manner of speaking. Let's just say that we're solid, eh? You helped me save those Muggles, Muggle-Borns, and Centaurs, while I helped you get those names off of your list. Solid teamwork, that is."

"Yes," Emilia smiled at Ron. "Solid teamwork, indeed." He is the strangest person I've ever run into, who would have thought that we'd become such strong allies when he was threatening to eat me at Fudge's manor? "Ron, I've been thinking ever since the attack… Perhaps, you and I should create our own brotherhood?"

"Excuse me?" Ron blinked. "Our own brotherhood?"

"The Order will never approve of our methods," Emilia leaned forward. "They are not like us, my friend. They do not understand that this war can only be won with blood. They wish to fight, of course, but they are unwilling to do what needs to be done. You and I are different, and together, we have hurt the Dark Lord unlike any before us, save for Harry Potter himself."

"Are you saying that we should make our own 'Order of the Phoenix?'" Ron asked.

"We could find others like us," Emilia gave voice to her plans. "Solomon, for one. He is an extremely intelligent and skilled smuggler, but the Order will squander his talents because they look down at him. I know that if I speak with him, he will gladly leave the Order behind and come work with us."

"But doesn't that hurt the Order?" Ron asked. "They still need him, don't they?"

"True, but the Order shouldn't be our concern in the first place," Emilia replied. "Let Dumbledore worry about his Order, while you and I create a brotherhood where we make the decisions. Think about it, Ron… Think about how much we could accomplish without those self-righteous fools holding us back with their doubts and lack of conviction."

Ron sipped his tea, his brow furrowed in thought.

"I know Dumbledore is your friend, though I'm not certain about the details of said friendship," Emilia said. "However, what I do know is that he'll be watching you from now on. He will do his best to keep you in check, to make you think like he does. The Wizarding World doesn't need another Dumbledore, my friend. It needs you."

"What else would we need?" Ron asked, his tone low. "To start this brotherhood, that is."

"Gold, allies, and patience," Emilia replied.

"You know, I love the Headmaster," Ron started. "He's a good man, who, despite his own shitty life, always tries to do the right thing and help others. But lately… I have been questioning his methods, or rather, his lack of methods." Ron then drew in a deep breath. "Our own brotherhood, eh? Yes… Maybe that's exactly what we need right now."

"You and me, Ron; we're going to win this war," Emilia said, and Ron slowly began to smile.

"Together," Ron said, giving a nod. "And as it happens, Emilia, I already have an ally who has all the gold in the world. He too is being wasted within the Order, so I'm sure that he won't mind helping us on the side. He could also serve as our eyes and ears within the Order, keeping us up with the Order's movements without their knowledge."

"Are you referring to your mentor?" Emilia asked. The former Death-Eater?

"I know that his past does him no favours, but he joined the Order because he wants to keep his Family safe," Ron started. "That, and he fucking hates the Dark Lord for murdering his mother and torturing his wife. He wants blood for blood, just like we do." I see. Sebastian Greengrass would make for a powerful ally, and if anyone can control the richest man in Wizarding Europe; it's Ron.

"The Dark Lord will not only have to face the Ministry and the Order, but also our new brotherhood," Emilia said. "Three against one are good odds."

"Don't forget that the 'one' is bloody immortal," Ron said. "But yeah, I think I really like this idea."

"If I'm being honest, I didn't think that you'd agree," Emilia admitted. "It's clear that you're quite high in the Order's chain of command-"

"Actually, I… I made some mistakes, and I no longer have any say in the Order," Ron told her. "At least, not until the Headmaster says otherwise." Oh… Well, aren't I fortunate these days?

"Well, it's their loss," Emilia smiled, standing up and putting her right hand forward. "Partners?"

"Partners," Ron stood up as well, clasping her hand and giving it a firm shake. "Till death do us part, eh?"

"Cheeky bugger," Emilia chuckled. "But yes, until the very end, my friend."

---

Lord Voldemort's POV

Sunday 21st February, 1994 (Riddle Manor – Night)

There was absolute silence on the Dark Lord's table, most likely due to his foul mood. The news of Ronald's upcoming trial had infuriated Lord Voldemort, Cornelius Fudge would pay dearly for daring to insult the Dark Lord's Heir.

Unfortunately, however, another pressing concern required the Dark Lord's attention first. Arcturus had repeatedly failed to get in touch with his brother and sister, nor could he summon any of their House Elves. And if that wasn't enough, every Death-Eater that had attended the Carrow Twins' gathering was now missing. Corban, Lucius, Cornelius, Robert, Thorfinn, and Felix had also failed to bring back any news of their missing comrades. Something has happened, something truly terrible. I can feel it in my bones.

"Corban," the Dark Lord finally spoke, his voice cold and barely more than a whisper.

"My Lord?" Corban raised his head, his meditation coming to an end.

"You say that your contacts at the Ministry don't know anything," Lord Voldemort started. "How is that possible? Have you not boasted, repeatedly, of your network? How can all of your spies know nothing?"

"It is just a theory, but I believe that the Aurors are behind this," Corban replied.

"Or, your spies have been spooked," Lucius suggested.

"Corban? Is that possible?" the Dark Lord asked.

"It is, these Ministry Officials are yellow-bellied cowards at their core," Corban admitted, he knew better than to lie to his Master. Mulciber is still undergoing his treatment, he won't be out of his bed for at least another month. I need him to infiltrating the Ministry as soon as possible, I don't believe that there are many working there who can resist his Imperius Curse.

"Is it possible that our friends have been arrested?" Cornelius asked. "Perhaps the twins were not as careful as they thought."

"My brother and sister have been doing this since halfway through the Great War," Arcturus said, he sounded eerily calm for a man whose siblings were missing. "They are brutes, yes, but I taught them my ways of secrecy."

"And yet, here we are," Lord Voldemort said, looking back down at the Daily Prophet. "Rita Skeeter… This is the second time she has thrown dirt at Lord Voldemort."

His followers exchanged slow looks, not fully understanding his meaning.

"Do you need us to protect Ronald from the Wizengamot, my Lord?" Corban asked. "This trial is no empty threat; I fear that Fudge has grown truly desperate."

"If they destroy Ronald's wand, I am certain that he will be left embittered," Lord Voldemort hissed. "And in his bitterness, he will become easier to influence and control. His recent work has proven to me that Dumbledore has indeed poisoned his mind, and this could be exactly what we need to turn Ronald against the Ministry and their puppet master."

"A cunning strategy, my Lord," Cornelius commended. He wants something from me, I can see it in his eyes.

"Cornelius, do you have something to share with the rest of us?" the Dark Lord asked, making the old wizard tense up.

"I… Yes, my Lord," Cornelius started. "My son, Theodore… It has been a long time since I spoke to him, I have been thinking of what his future needs to be."

"Go on," the Dark Lord whispered icily.

"Theo is an intelligent boy, far smarter than his peers," Cornelius started.

"Including Ronald?" Lord Voldemort's eyes flashed.

"No, not Ronald, of course," Cornelius quickly corrected himself. "I know that my son wishes to avenge his mother, my late love, and I believe that he can prove most useful to you."

"He is only a boy," Corban spoke up. "He is not ready for our world-"

"I know my son, Corban," Cornelius interjected. "He is in the perfect position to keep his eyes on Ronald, and with his help, I believe that we can begin to influence Ronald well before you approach him, my Lord." That could prove useful, I clearly have my work cut out for me.

"You would offer me your son, Cornelius?" the Dark Lord asked. "At such a young age?"

"The Nott Family has been yours to command from the day you named me your Knight of Walpurgis, my Lord," Cornelius replied, pleasing the Dark Lord. "However, I will only do as you command." Revealing my existence to a child is risky, especially given Dumbledore's habit of searching through his students' minds. Not to mention Severus, that traitorous cur.

"Begin training your son in Occlumency, Cornelius," the Dark Lord ordered. "Prepare him for his role, and I will decide if he is ready to serve me."

"Thank you, my Lord," Cornelius bowed his head. "I have been eagerly awaiting the day on which father and son will shed filthy Muggle blood."

The door suddenly swung open, and Gaspard marched in with a twisted grin on his face. Now, what? Haven't enough things gone wrong in one day?

"Rodolphus stirs, Voldemort," Gaspard reported, Robert immediately looked sour at the sight of the Blood Lord. "He begged me to ask you for an audience on his behalf."

The Dark Lord's body broke apart into thick smoke, shooting up into the cracked ceiling and reforming on the upper floor. His burning, red eyes scanned his laboratory, eyeing all of his Loyalists. They were still in their beds, hooked up to Potion Dispensers which were feeding them drops of the Dark Lord's Basilisk Venom and Unicorn Blood concoction.

The Dark Lord glided over to Rodolphus' side, the Head of the Lestrange Family was barely conscious. Such a powerful will, to break through my Sleeping Charm in his current state.

"Rodolphus," the Dark Lord spoke gently, he did not wish to disturb the others. "I am here, my brave one."

"My Lord…" Rodolphus rasped, opening his eyes as much as he could. "Do I dream…?"

"No, I have found you once again," Lord Voldemort replied. "No one will tear you away from me ever again."

Rodolphus' eyes began to well up, a joyful sob escaping his lips. They will pay for what they have done to you, I will give you their heads.

"The Dark Mark… I had thought you… dead…" Rodolphus trembled, but when his Lord placed his hand on Rodolphus' shoulder, the man let out a breath of relief. He is too weak to be awake; I must put him back to sleep.

"Your Lord is beyond death, Rodolphus," Lord Voldemort reminded the man.

"My faith has… faltered…" Rodolphus confessed. "Forgive… me…"

"We have both been humiliated and discarded, Rodolphus," the Dark Lord said, he knew exactly what to say to this man. "We set out to save the Wizarding World from the vermin poisoning it, and our noble goal was met with bloodshed and war. We will have our vengeance, together."

"What of Rebby? And my Bella? Where is she, my Lord?" Rodolphus already sounded stronger, much to the Dark Lord's liking. "She did not lose faith like her weak husband, my Lord… She remained loyal, even in the darkest of nights…" And for that, she will be rewarded. You will all be rewarded.

"They are both in this room, Lord Voldemort is mending your broken bodies," the Dark Lord replied. "Do not fret, Rodolphus, we will all fight together once again. You must be patient, now more than ever."

"I… understand," Rodolphus said, gazing into the Dark Lord's eyes. "I have not… felt such joy… in a lifetime, my Lord… Bless you…"

"Your loyalty has been missed in these last ten years, my friend," the Dark Lord whispered. "Lucius, Corban, Robert, Cornelius… They all abandoned me to torture beyond description, just as they abandoned you, their own brother, to the cruelty of Azkaban."

"Dogs…" Rodolphus grit out. "I will flay them for their disloyalty…"

"We must look past their weakness, my brave one," Lord Voldemort counselled. "We need them, despite how useless they've all become in my absence. They have grown fat and lazy from years of luxury, while you fought every single day just to stay alive."

"The guards raped my Bella… They destroyed Antonin's body…" Rodolphus' eyes began to droop. "I will… have blood for this transgression… I will have blood for the… horrors inflicted upon my comrades…"

"Patience," Lord Voldemort repeated. "We must be patient, that is the only way we'll be able to avenge ourselves. Now, rest. Heal. Come back to your Lord and Master, he needs you stronger than ever, Rodolphus."

"I will never falter… again…" Rodolphus promised, his eyes closing. "My Lord…"

"I know, my brave one," the Dark Lord smiled a lipless smile, his eyes flashing. I have given him exactly what he needs, now all I must do is wait. Soon, my Loyalists will recover their strength, and then, we will show Dumbledore just how foolish he was to spare any of us. When I tear out Harry Potter's heart, Dumbledore will finally know the true extent of his failures.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Monday 22nd February, 1994 (The Creek near The Burrow – Crack of Dawn)

The water was freezing, but Ron didn't really mind. Living in a dungeon has its perks, I suppose. One step at a time, Ron lowered himself into the creek, until finally, he was deep enough that he could let himself sink.

There was no better way to start a morning than this, in Ron's humble opinion. The cold water knocked the sleep right out of you, causing your brain to go into overdrive. When they were younger, the Weasley siblings regularly visited this creek together, playing games and enjoying the water. Now, it was only Ron who came here, the rest had moved on with age. But not me, some of my fondest memories are associated with this place. Memories that I made before the Entity found its way into my head.

After nearly a minute of being submerged, Ron rose from the water like a Phoenix rising from its ashes, fully revitalized. He let out a sigh of relief as he slicked his hair back, swimming further into the creek. I'm glad that all this rain paid off, the creek looks beautiful today.

"Enjoying yourself?" Ravenclaw Ron hummed, walking on water.

"Why do you always show up when I'm in the nude?" Ron asked in response, not paying his past self any mind. "Do you mind explaining that to me?"

"What's there to explain?" Ravenclaw Ron chuckled. "I prefer our conversations to stay private, and you being starkers helps a great deal with that. After all, you'd never show those scars to anyone, right?"

"That was a better answer than I was expecting," Ron said, letting his body float. "So? Where have you been?"

"Do you want the truth?" Ravenclaw Ron asked.

"Yes."

"I've been looking into your brain damage," Ravenclaw Ron replied. Really?

"And?" Ron asked. "What have you discovered?"

"There is indeed some brain damage, the Entity was not lying," Ravenclaw Ron replied. "It seems that Fate has left her mark on you, though I'm hardly surprised by her lack of care about your wellbeing. She is a cold-hearted bitch if there ever was one."

"How bad is the brain damage?" Ron asked. "Better yet, how much time do I have left?"

"If my theory is correct, you have far more time than Pomfrey believes," Ravenclaw Ron replied.

"Really?" Ron adorned a more serious expression.

"The brain damage I found, which was a chunk of 'Dream Hogwarts' that was just outright missing, is not as substantial as she believes," Ravenclaw Ron explained. "However, do you remember that black ooze leaking out of the walls and the floor?"

"Yes," Ron gave a nod.

"I believe Pomfrey has misinterpreted what she has seen in those scans of yours," Ravenclaw Ron said. "I think your body is changing due to the World Eater bleeding into your mind and soul, and on a brain scan, it looks eerily similar to the brain damage that was first discovered by that Bernard chap. He put the idea of brain damage into everyone's heads, and no one thought to look into it properly. Not that they could, of course, given that they don't even know of the World Eater."

"Wait… Are you saying that my brain damage isn't spreading and killing me?" Ron asked, he didn't know how he felt about this. And here I was, hoping to croak after finishing my work.

"Pomfrey has no idea what she's dealing with, she made the only diagnosis that made sense to her," Ravenclaw Ron theorized. "I am still investigating, however, so don't get your hopes up."

"What about the Entity?" Ron asked. "Surely, it knows what's going on."

"The World Eater and I are not exactly on speaking terms," Ravenclaw Ron pulled a face. "Every time I question it, I am met with death threats and promises of endless torture. It's pissed, and I genuinely believe that if it gets out, it will flay us both alive a million times over."

"We'll kick it's arse again, then," Ron sneered. "Don't be afraid of that… thing. It's pathetic and weak, we proved that the day we sealed it away." Ron then drew in a deep breath, removing his anger from his thoughts. "Keep me updated on this investigation, eh?" I'll keep this information all to myself, I'm sure I can take advantage of it somehow. I just need to wait for an opportunity to show itself to me.

"No worries," Ravenclaw Ron said, kicking off into the air and floating above Ron's head. "So, the trial is today… Are you ready?"

"You know I am," Ron replied. "The Quibbler will take the Wizarding World by storm today, and while everyone runs around like a headless chicken, I'll be completely ignored due to my alliance with Madam Bones. Plus, I am just a boy, who would suspect me?"

"Fudge will be frazzled, even more so than before," Ravenclaw Ron chuckled. "I must say, I'm quite enjoying this ride. Perhaps the World Eater was not entirely barmy for placing you in Slytherin, you have learned Salazar's ways well."

"I suppose I should give credit where credit is due," Ron started. "Nah… Fuck that cunt, this was all me."

Ravenclaw Ron began sniggering, while Ron smiled an easy smile as the water's smooth current lulled his body. The Entity wanted me to learn the ways of my enemies, and now, I know how they think. I know how to fight them on their own turf. Maybe this is why the Cycles where I am sorted into Slytherin have come closest to succeeding? Funny how just being in a different House can change everything so drastically.

"Are you going to reveal the 'truth' about your conditions?" Ravenclaw Ron suddenly asked.

"Do you think I should?" Ron asked instead.

"Yes," Ravenclaw Ron replied. "Frailty can make for a powerful disguise, especially in your case. Think about it. The young, brilliant prodigy, who spends his spare time protecting and sheltering the needy, has been suffering in silence all along. Oh, how many hearts will break all around the Wizarding World! The girls will be all over you, Ronnie, and you can use those fools as your shield."

"I don't use people as my shield," Ron said. "I am the shield that protects them, don't ever forget that."

"And they say that I have an ego," Ravenclaw Ron smirked.

"My ego has been earned through sweat and tears," Ron stated. "You used the Entity's power to bolster your strength."

"True, but that doesn't mean that I didn't have a few tricks of my own up my sleeve," Ravenclaw Ron said. "For example, I created a Spell which allowed me to morph into a murder of crows. I based it on a Spell used often by the Dark Lord himself, a Spell that allows him to turn his body into thick, black smoke."

"You created your own Spells?" Ron asked.

"I did, with Professor Flitwick's help," Ravenclaw Ron laughed in his twisted way. "He thought he was helping me recover from Ginny's death, but in truth, I was arming myself for war."

"And will you teach me this Spell of yours?" Ron asked. "I could use something like that in my own arsenal."

"Of course," Ravenclaw Ron replied. "Why do you think I brought it up?"

"And, what do you want in return?" Ron asked.

"A promise," Ravenclaw Ron replied. Brilliant…

"What promise?"

"No matter what happens, no matter how bad things get, you will protect Ginny above all others," Ravenclaw Ron replied, taking Ron by surprise. "I failed to save her, and to this day, it feels like an open wound to me. If this Cycle is the one that finally succeeds, then I want Ginny to be alive at the end of it. I want her to have the life I failed to give her."

"You really loved her, didn't you?" Ron was a bit touched, but not enough to trust this maniac.

"I still do," Ravenclaw Ron replied. "Wouldn't you?"

"I suppose, I would," Ron admitted. "I promise that I'll always look out for her, even if everything goes to shit; I'll never stop protecting her."

"I'll hold you to that," Ravenclaw Ron said, looking a lot less deranged than usual. "We'll start your training when we're back at Hogwarts, far away from prying eyes. However, returning to Hogwarts brings us back to the trial… I think you should come clean. There are just too many advantages that you can't ignore."

"There are some disadvantages as well," Ron said. "For one, no one will want to work with a dead man."

"You already have allies who know of your conditions," Ravenclaw Ron countered. "Aunt Muriel, Augusta Longbottom, Sirius Black, Sebastian Greengrass, even Dumbledore. Plus, I doubt Emilia Travers will do a runner on you when she learns the truth, she seems like the 'honourable' sort to me." He's not wrong… "You know what I think?"

"What do you think?" Ron asked dully. Here comes another rant…

"I think you already know that coming clean is the better strategy," Ravenclaw Ron started. "You know just how easily people's opinions can be controlled, especially when sympathy is mixed into the cauldron. The only thing holding you back is your need to impress other people."

"I don't care about other people's opinions of me-"

"You can't lie to me, Ronnie," Ravenclaw Ron giggled. "I live inside your head, after all. You don't want to use this strategy because you're scared of how others will react to it."

Ron said nothing, closing his eyes and floating about. I'll be labelled a cripple until my dying breath…

"Let go of this weakness," Ravenclaw Ron advised. "Let go of your need for approval. You can't afford to not use every weapon in your arsenal. We can't afford it. There is an angry God waiting for us to make a mistake, and trust me, all it takes is one mistake for everything to go black."

Ravenclaw Ron then began to vanish, his body fading away as his voice echoed in Ron's head.

"You can spend years pretending to be normal, but it won't make it so," Ravenclaw Ron said. "You will never be normal, and once you realize that, that is when greatness will happen."

---

Pansy Parkinson's POV

Monday 22nd February, 1994 (The Girls' Room – Early Morning)

"Pansy, wake up," came Daphne's voice, followed by a light shaking.

"No…" Pansy whined, but the shaking persisted until she opened her eyes. "What is it?" What's going on?

Pansy sat up on her elbows, looking towards Daphne through groggy eyes. The Greengrass Heiress was still in her pyjamas, and judging by her unkempt hair, she too had been asleep mere moments ago.

"Pansy, Samantha is at the door for you," Daphne yawned, covering her mouth. "She says it's important, but wouldn't tell me anything else."

"Samantha Selwyn?" Pansy yawned as well. What could she want with me?

"The very same," Daphne began to head over to her own bed. "Go on, it sounded important."

"Okay…" Pansy mumbled, clearing her eyes as she slipped out of her bed. What could she want with me? Did Clara send her? Is she finally going to talk to me again? I don't even know what I did wrong…

Pansy grabbed her school robes from her chair, tossed them on, put on a pair of slippers, and then dragged herself towards the door. Samantha was waiting just outside, also dressed in her nightwear. Hmmm, nice legs.

"Good morning," Pansy greeted tiredly, still rubbing her eyes.

"Come with me," Samantha said, she was oddly alert given how early it was.

Without another word, Samantha began leading the way towards the common room. Pansy followed closely at her heels, wondering what had happened for her to be dragged out of bed at this time of day. Wait… Why only me?

"Um… What's going on?" Pansy asked.

"Professor Snape needs to see us," Samantha replied shortly, clearly hiding something.

"Us?" Pansy asked.

"Some of the Slytherins," Samantha replied. "I already collected them, you're the last one."

"Did something happen? I'm not in any trouble, am I?" Pansy asked. "Because whatever it is that you think I've done, I haven't." I probably did, but I'll be damned if I go down without lying at least once.

"Pansy, stop talking," Samantha said curtly. Wow… What's her problem? First, Clara starts ignoring me, and now, Samantha's being a bitch. Are they still angry that Ron took away their status? Well, it's their own fault. The strong should lead, it's just the way of things, and no one is stronger than our Ron.

Pansy followed Samantha quietly, thinking about Ron and his upcoming trial. She had suggested to the group that they should all get together and head down to the Ministry after classes, just to show Ron that they were in his corner. Sadly, however, her hopes were dashed when Theo had explained that the Wizengamot would not allow them to sit within the courtroom. Not to mention what Daphne told us, Ron works best when he isn't distracted by other people.

"Here, go in," Samantha stopped in front of Snape's office, she had a distant look on her face.

Pansy's instincts told her that something was very wrong, was Samantha genuinely upset over something?

"What's going on?" Pansy asked more firmly this time. "Why did you bring me here, Samantha?"

"There's an Auror here to see you," Samantha sighed out. "Please, just go inside, okay? Leave me to my thoughts…"

"An Auror…" Pansy muttered under her breath, slowly facing the door.

She knocked twice, and the door swung open immediately. The first thing she saw was the face of Severus Snape; his expression unreadable as always. He gestured her to come inside, keeping his silence just like Samantha. Okay, now, I'm getting scared…

Pansy entered the office, immediately spotting Marcus Flint, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and a thick-bearded Auror. Much to her bewilderment, Crabbe and Goyle were both in tears, letting out shaky sobs and covering their faces, while Flint was kneeling down with his head in his hands.

"Miss. Parkinson," the Auror greeted, gesturing her to approach him.

Pansy shot a look back at Professor Snape, and when he gave her a nod, she took small steps towards the tall Auror.

"What has happened?" Pansy heard herself ask. "Why am I here?"

"My name is Tiberius McLaggen, I work for the British Department of Magical Law Enforcement," the Auror introduced himself. McLaggen? Like that handsome Gryffindor? "I'm afraid I have some troubling news for you, Miss. Parkinson. Your father was found murdered last Friday night-"

"What?!" Pansy jaw dropped. "Murdered?!"

Pansy immediately looked towards the boys, why were they crying?! My father couldn't have been murdered, he's one of the richest men in Magical Britain! Who is this man?! Why is he lying to-

"Miss. Parkinson, I have some questions for you-" Tiberius started.

"Give her a moment, for pity's sake," Professor Snape hissed, he had reached his limit with this blunt Auror.

"I'm afraid this is urgent," Tiberius said, his eyes fixed Pansy. "When was the last time you were in contact with your father?" Gods, he's not lying, is he?

"I… I um…" Pansy felt her head spin, her legs feeling like jelly. "Not for a while… He doesn't really return any of my letters…"

"And what about your mother?" Tiberius asked. "When was the last time you spoke to her?"

"My mother's dead as well?" Pansy gasped, feeling the wind leave her lungs.

She didn't really care much for her parents, a small part of her even despised them both, but this was unbelievable… Who would want to murder them? Their business rivals? Another Family? A begrudged employee? A thousand different scenarios played in Pansy's, while the Auror's heavy voice echoed all around her.

"Miss. Parkinson," Snape whispered, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Pansy, sit down."

She mindlessly sat down on the chair Snape had Conjured up for her, still lost in her thoughts. If they're both dead, doesn't that make me the only Parkinson alive?

"Miss. Parkinson, this is extremely important," Tiberius spoke more gently, finally regaining Pansy's attention. "We are trying to find Violet Parkinson, however, none of her servants have seen her for quite some time. They informed us that she was vacationing in Italy, though they don't know which villa she was staying in. I am hoping that you know where we can find her."

"I don't…" Pansy muttered. "She doesn't return my letters either…"

Pansy, for some strange reason, felt embarrassed about admitting such a thing to a stranger, despite the situation she found herself in. Neither of my parents want me… Wanted me, I mean… Gods, this can't be happening…

"I see," Tiberius gave a nod. "I am very sorry for your loss." Loss? What loss? I never really had them to begin with…

"Who killed him?" Pansy asked, the blood slowly draining from her face.

"The investigation is on-going," Tiberius replied. "I'm afraid I can't share any details with you just yet, Miss. Parkinson."

"Dad…" Goyle suddenly coughed out, while Crabbe let out another sob.

The sounds around her slowly became distorted, and as Tiberius spoke to her, Pansy began feeling lightheaded. Nothing he was saying was making any sense, and all Pansy could really focus on were Crabbe and Goyle's voices. Occasionally, she heard Flint sniffle and cuss, which genuinely jarred her as she never thought she'd feel sorry for a slimy toad like Marcus Flint. All of our parents are dead…

"Pansy?" Snape whispered. "Answer the Auror-"

Pansy saw her world turn sideways, her vision darkening as she slipped off of the chair. The last thing she heard was Professor Snape, who had caught her before she could hit the floor. They're both really dead…

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Monday 22nd February, 1994 (The Burrow – Breakfast)

The only sounds on the dining table were the sounds of Ron and Artyom eating their hearty breakfast, while the rest of the table's occupants continued sitting in absolute silence.

The printing company had come through, no doubt thanks to Gornuk's expert skills in negotiation. The Quibbler's latest issue was filled with every detail that Ron had wanted the Wizarding World to see for themselves, including the names of all the Lords and Ladies attending the Carrow Twins' party. No graphic detail was spared, those who would read The Quibbler would know the truth of the crimes committed against the Muggles, Muggle-Borns, and Centaurs found at the estate. They would even see a copy of Fudge's finances, which were littered with large sums of gold being 'gifted' to him by the likes of the Carrows, Malfoy, Yaxley, and even the Bulstrodes.

And if this wasn't enough to brighten Ron's mood, the Daily Prophet had also released a copy of their own version of events; leaving out details of the crimes committed by the Lords and Ladies in order to paint them as the victims. When compared to The Quibbler, the Daily Prophet's version came across as heavily biased and full of inconsistencies. And thanks to Madam Bones giving me an exclusive, the people will know who's telling the truth. The Daily Prophet won't walk away from this without egg on their face, that's for certain. Actually, not just one egg, but the whole fucking carton.

"Kirsten, can you please pass the sausages?" Ron asked, and she slowly looked up from her and Charlie's copy.

"How can you even eat right now, Ron?" Bill asked, while Kirsten absentmindedly handed over the plate of sausages before returning to her reading.

"Simple, I put the food in my mouth and chew," Ron replied, taking a couple of sausages before passing the plate to Artyom.

"Spasiba," Artyom said, taking a couple of sausages as well. "This is good, very good."

"Thank you…" Molly muttered, she looked sick.

"I can't believe they were getting away with this for so long," Arthur sighed out, looking away from Madam Bones' exclusive. "By the Gods, the Ministry is done for…"

"The Minister is done for," Ron corrected. "Unfortunately, the tumour that is our Ministry will continue to exist. The best we can hope for is that someone decent will take the Office once Fudge is sent packing."

"Surely, they can't hold a trial today, right?" Charlie asked. "I mean, this changes everything for Fudge, he was clearly taking bribes from these people. We should head down to the Ministry and drag him out of his Office!" If only, Charlie, if only. Sadly, we must let the Wizengamot handle that fool.

"How could they do this to children? Little children, Arthur…" Molly sniffled, suddenly leaving the table in tears.

"Molly…" Arthur quickly followed his wife to the sink, pulling her into his embrace. "It's over now, love. They won't hurt anyone ever again." No, they won't.

"Who do you think was behind this?" Bill asked the others. "It's not the Order, and I doubt it was the Aurors."

"Whoever it was, I say we send them a gift basket," Charlie said, sounding a little pissed off. Really?

Ron smiled a little to himself, how many others were going to share Charlie's outrage? I'm coming for you, Fudge. You fucked with the wrong man, and pretty soon, you'll lose everything you hold dear.

"Charlie…" Bill sighed out. "Don't say things like that, this was still murder. Whoever is behind this had no right to take justice into their own hands." You mean, like the Order?

"Ron, what do you think?" Charlie asked. "You agree with me, right?"

"I think we need to focus on why this happened in the first place, rather than who was behind it," Ron replied. "If the Head of Magical Law knew this was happening for nearly a decade, and chose to do nothing about it due to red-tape, then the system itself has failed us. The Old Families have too much power, and as we all know, power corrupts those who are weak-willed."

"So, we should blame the Ministry?" Kirsten asked.

"The Ministry, the Wizengamot, Dumbledore-" Ron started.

"The Headmaster had nothing to do with this, Ron," Bill said quickly. Look how quickly they jump to his defence, like he's some fucking Prophet who can't be doubted. They have no issues doubting their own kin, but Dumbledore must always be trusted… Brain-washed idiots, the lot of them.

"Really? Is he not the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot?" Ron asked. "You think he didn't know this was happening? How many legislations were passed under his nose that protected these degenerates? He spent a decade fighting against these pricks, Bill, be reasonable. He knew, but he did nothing because that's how he operates. He sits in his ivory tower, making plans and pretending to be wise, but at the end of the day, he is just a coward who is afraid of being decisive. The old man is part of the problem, and he needs to explain himself."

"That's Albus Dumbledore you're talking about, Ron," Arthur said, giving his son a wary look.

"He is just a man," Ron shrugged. "And whether you like it or not, you know I'm telling you the truth. He did nothing, and hundreds lost their lives in the worst ways imaginable." But you don't really care, do you? You'll never dare question him; you don't have the fucking spine. The sad part is, Dumbledore would actually respect you if you questioned him and held him to the same standards as everyone else, but you're incapable of understanding that.

"If good men do nothing, then evil wins," Artyom said, silencing everyone. "If Dumbledore wants to have so much power within his hands, then he must use it for good. Not hide behind Hogwarts' walls."

"Finally, someone with half a brain," Ron said, standing up and patting Artyom on the shoulder. "Come, Artyom, we've got work to do today."

"You're leaving?" Molly asked, sounding even more worried. "Ron, it's not safe for you out there. Especially not after this."

"I will keep him safe," Artyom said calmly.

"I want to go help the people of Knockturn Alley until it's time for my trial," Ron told everyone. "I've been neglecting them due to my own problems, and that's not on." Plus, it'll help paint me in a positive light before the trial.

"Ron, I really think you should stay home," Molly tried. When I want your opinion, I will ask for it.

"Don't push your luck with me," Ron warned, leaving the kitchen without another word. I can't wait to return to Hogwarts. I'm going to start operating out of the Sanctuary from now on, far away from everyone and their constant nagging.

---

Monday 22nd February, 1994 (The Ministry – Nearly Five 'o'clock)

As soon as Ron entered the Atrium, he was absolutely taken aback by crowd gathered in protests against Fudge. People were screaming and shouting for the Minister to show his face, and the more Ron listened, the wider his smile became. You hear that, Ron! That's the sound of change!

"You are grinning like lunatic," Artyom said bluntly. "Look humble, it will help in trial."

"Of course," Ron drew in a deep breath, using his improving Occlumency to gain control over himself. "I'm all right, I was just surprised by how many people are in here."

"Stick with me, crowds are dangerous," Artyom said, placing his hand on Ron's shoulder and guiding him forward.

"Why isn't Fudge coming out?!" a man roared, riling up those around him.

"We want answer!"

"Bloody traitors! How could you hide this from us?!"

"Why were these twisted men and women giving our Minister thousands upon thousands of Galleons?! Why does he live in a bloody mansion, while his people are homeless?!

"Those 'Pure-Bloods' need to be put in Azkaban!"

"What are you doing about the 'former' Death-Eaters?! Are they above Magical Law just because they were born rich?!"

"Has there been any news about the Werewolves?! Just leave them be! They won't bother no one from that Sanctuary of theirs!"

"It'll stop the spread of the Werewolf Curse, you fools!"

"Use your fucking heads!"

"When will the Minister make a statement?!"

"He's got nothing to say, the fucking coward!"

"What is the Ministry doing about Knockturn Alley?! Why aren't you answering us!"

"No more Fudge!"

"No more Fudge!"

"No more Fudge!"

"Down with corruption! You bastards are supposed to be serving us, not just the rich!"

"We want justice for the dead! We want this Ministry to serve the people, not itself!"

"Oi! It's him! It's Ronald Weasley!"

"Look! Right there!"

"He's here for his trial!"

"Damn," Artyom grit out. "Move faster!"

"Stop, Artyom," Ron said, an idea popping into his head. There are so many people here, and I have the chance to address them all at once. Think Ron, what can you say to them that will rile them up further?

The crowd began to encircle Ron and Artyom, all of them jumping and standing on their toes just to look at the young wizard. Draw in a deep breath, Ron, and focus. It's time for the truth to come out. Ravenclaw Ron was right, I'm still being held back by my own weaknesses, and that can't stand. I can't have any weaknesses, or, I'll be condemned to an eternity of torture and death.

"You!" Ron suddenly pointed towards a familiar wizard, and everyone immediately looked towards the surprised man. "I've seen you in Diagon Alley, haven't I? At the camps?"

"I… Yes, my wife and I lost everything…" the man said. "You really recognize me?"

"I do!" Ron replied, raising his voice so all could hear him. "What has been done to you is nothing short of criminal! And even now, the Ministry sits by while it's people starve in the streets!"

His words immediately sparked an uproar, with many patting the man's back and offering words of comfort, while others nodded their agreement with Ron's words.

"Make no mistake, I am being unjustly punished by the Ministry because I have dared to do what they cannot!" Ron went on. "Our Ministry has been led astray by a man who would condemn hundreds to death to sate his own ego! Men, women, children, the elderly! Every single soul in Knockturn Alley has suffered because of the Minister's foolishness!"

"Absolute bastard!" a woman shouted. "My sister's children will grow up without their mother because of Fudge!"

"How many lives have been destroyed?!" Ron demanded. "How many loved ones have been buried?! We are the people, and the Ministry was created to serve us! And yet, we are the ones who suffer! We are the ones being held for trial, while the man responsible for our suffering hides behind the walls of the Office we fucking handed to him!"

"Bless you, boy!" an elderly wizard yelled over the crowd.

"We won't let them do this! Where's the justice in all of this?!"

"He's just a boy! What treason has he even committed?!"

"The only treason I have committed is showing the people of Magical Britain just how corrupt this system is!" Ron answered, his heart pumping in his ears. Yes… Feel Our rage… Let it wash over you, let it empower you!

"This is a free country! If the Daily Prophet can peddle its lies, then The Quibbler has every right to tell us the truth!" another woman yelled out.

"We're with you!"

"I've already subscribed, keep spreading the truth!"

"Down with these elitist cunts!"

"We matter too! The lives of our loved ones matter too!"

"My friend has been missing for years, and now, I know what happened to him! They killed him for being a Muggle-Born! I know they did!"

"SILENCE!" a voice suddenly boomed throughout the Atrium, nearly blowing everyone's eardrums. What the fuck?! "Enough of this insubordination!"

"I know that voice…" Ron muttered under his breath, feeling his blood boil.

"Aurors, disperse this rabble!" Umbridge shouted from up ahead, her high-pitched voice made Ron want to go deaf.

"This rabble?!" a woman demanded. "Go fuck yourself, you bitch!"

"Fudge's bootlicker!"

"Murder any Werewolves lately, you cunt?!"

"Enough!" Umbridge screamed again. "Aurors, do your duty to the Ministry!"

"What about their duty to the people?!" Ron yelled back, making his way through the crowd, until finally, he was at the head of the crowd.

Umbridge stood behind a small barricade, her face purple and shaking with rage. There were three Aurors guarding the barricade; Madam Roberts and two men that Ron didn't recognize. Must be her Hit-Wizards. Madam Roberts gave Ron a meaningful look, no doubt hoping for him to stop this madness. Sorry, but I'm not going down without a fight. We Weasleys don't bow our heads, it's just not in us!

"Arrest him!" Umbridge screamed, her chubby finger aimed at Ron.

Before Ron could respond, a handful of witches and wizards stepped in front of him, guarding him with their own bodies.

"He's just a boy!"

"You lot have lost your fucking minds!"

"Leave him alone, at least he's doing something about the mess you bastards made for us! I can't even find work!"

"My toddler goes to sleep with a full belly and in warm clothes because of this kind-hearted young man!" a woman hissed. "You won't touch him! I won't let you!"

"Fuck you!" a man roared. "You goddamn tyrants!"

"Arrest him, now!" Umbridge barked out, glaring at Madam Roberts.

"You see this, my friends!" Ron yelled. "We can't even give our opinions without being arrested by people like this fucking tart! I thought this was a free country! I thought that everyone was equal in the eyes of Magical Law! But no, we will always come second because we're not them!"

"Ronald, step forward," Madam Roberts said, shooting him a wink. What the…? "Now."

"He's not going anywhere with you!" the man in front of Ron yelled. "How can you justify breaking a child's wand?! You might as well cut his arm off, you unholy bastards!" Is Madam Roberts trying to help me?

"Artyom, stay here," Ron said, trusting his old mentor. She might be part of a corrupt system, but that's all going to change soon.

"I have men on standby," Artyom whispered. "If trial goes wrong, we will free you by force."

"Start by offing the toad in pink, would you?" Ron whispered back.

"Gladly," Artyom growled, vanishing into the frenzied mob.

"Justice will be served today!" Ron told the crowd, slowly moving past those who were shielding him. "I am not guilty of any treason; I have always tried my best to help others! That is the truth!"

"Put him in chains, and escort him to the Wizengamot!" Umbridge hissed, turning around and marching towards the elevators.

"You fucking bitch!"

"You're going to chain him?! He's not a bloody animal!"

Ron stepped up to the barricade, putting his joined hands in Madam Roberts' face.

"This will hurt a little," Madam Roberts whispered, pulling out her wand. "But the crowd needs to see this, it will help you in the trial."

"You're helping me rile people up?" Ron whispered back. "Doesn't this go against what you believe in?"

"I believe in justice, and for too long, it has been missing from this Ministry," Madam Roberts replied, summoning heavy chains around his hands and ankles. Ow! Motherfucker!

The moment his hands and legs were bound, the crowd broke out into a frenzy. They were all shouting over one another, and as Ron was escorted past the barricade, some even tried to follow him, only to be stopped by the two remaining Aurors.

Madam Roberts led him towards elevators, where Umbridge was waiting for them with a hateful sneer on her face. You're fucking done, bitch. Once I'm done fucking your boss in his arse, I'll be coming for you next. Ron jangled his chains when he reached Umbridge, shooting her a wink just to piss her off even further.

"If you wanted me in binds, Dolores, all you had to do was ask me out to dinner," Ron said, smirking as her eyes widened with fury.

"You disrespectful little cur!" Umbridge hissed, raising her hand.

"Touch him, and you'll be sleeping in a dungeon tonight," Madam Roberts said, her voice filled with deadly purpose. "Ron, stop giving people cheek for once."

Umbridge lowered her hand, her enraged eyes darting towards the crowd.

"Yeah, you don't have the balls, do you?" Ron asked, presenting his cheek. "You're just another arse-kisser, nothing more."

"Gag him!" Umbridge snapped.

"Oh, you naughty girl," Ron sniggered, Umbridge looked ready to have a heart attack.

"Gods, give me strength…" Madam Roberts sighed out, clicking the button repeatedly.

The moment the elevator opened, Madam Roberts all but shoved Ron inside. Easy, woman! I just had this suit cleaned! The two witches entered after him, with Umbridge all but punching the 'Dungeons' button.

"Madam Roberts, you mind holding me in place?" Ron asked calmly. "These chains are not helping."

"Sure," Madam Roberts grabbed onto Ron's arm, steadying him just as the elevator started moving.

"So…" Ron started. "How's everyone's day going?"

Umbridge shot a dark look back, there was a familiar bloodlust in her eyes. Cute.

"Not particularly well," Madam Roberts replied.

"Do not speak to the prisoner!" Umbridge barked. Don't fucking shout at her, I'll wring your bloody neck with these chains!

"If I don't respond, he'll keep getting on your nerves," Madam Roberts stated.

"It's true," Ron nodded in agreement. "Pissing people off is pretty much my only hobby."

"An arrogant Blood-Traitor…" Umbridge hissed under her breath. Wow, I really got to her, didn't I?

"Excuse me?" Madam Roberts demanded.

"It's all right," Ron said, he didn't want Madam Roberts to lose her job over him. "I take such insults as words of endearment; they remind me that I'm not a stuck-up cunt." Ron then drew in a deep breath. "Madam Roberts, has Madam Pomfrey arrived yet? She will speak on my behalf."

"She's here, as are some other people," Madam Roberts replied. Other people? I only arranged for Madam Pomfrey to be here. What other people?

Just as Ron was about to question her, the elevator doors parted, revealing a hallway filled with men and women in plum-coloured robes. Each robe was embellished with a silver 'W', indicating that they were all Wizengamot members. Ah, I finally get to see this lot.

Madam Roberts led Ron out, his chains jangling as he was marched past the curious crowd. Most of them seemed to be surprised by the fact that he was chained up, but as soon as they saw Umbridge, they seemingly understood why.

"Good afternoon, Auntie," Ron smiled at Muriel as he passed her by.

"Get those chains off of him," Muriel frowned at Madam Roberts, moving into their way.

"This is Ministry business-" Umbridge started.

"Silence, leech," Muriel said dismissively, her eyes fixed on Madam Roberts. "Take those chains off of my kin, Auror. Now!"

"It's all right, Auntie," Ron said calmingly. "If I wanted them off, I doubt anyone here could stop me. I just want to get this over with-"

"Out of the way," came a familiar voice, and as Ron looked on ahead, his eyes widened at the sight of Madame Olympe Maxime marching towards him.

"Madame Maxime?" Ron was honestly gobsmacked, what was she doing here?

Her eyes immediately travelled to the chains, and a disapproving frown quickly followed. Before anyone could say anything, she waved her hand, Wandlessly banishing the chains. Woah! She did that like it was nothing!

"How dare you?!" Umbridge hissed. "You have no authority here! This boy-"

"I do not need authority to put you in your place, girl," Madame Maxime said coldly. "Ronald, come with me, you will sit with your defence while these fools prepare this embarrassment of a trial." My defence?

"Go on, Ron," Madam Roberts said. "I have to return upstairs."

Ron gave Madam Roberts a parting nod, following after Madame Maxime. The Wizengamot members were quick to move out of her way, with the exception of a few like Lady Longbottom and Tiberius Ogden.

"Madame Maxime, what are you doing here?" Ron asked as they moved past the last of the Wizengamot members.

"I have come here for you, my friend," Madame Maxime said, shooting him a quick smile. Really…? Why? "The moment I learned of this nonsense, I reached out to our mutual friends."

"The Veela Families are here?" Ron asked. After how things ended between us, I didn't expect to see them for a while.

"We will set the record straight, once and for all," Madame Maxime said. "I know that our plans didn't exactly succeed as we had hoped, but you still made an impression on many people, Ronald. The Coutures have not forgotten that you chose to safely return their errant daughter to them, despite her many insults towards you."

"I… I don't know what to say," Ron confessed. "After Lord and Lady Abadie's ambitions turned everything sour, I figured that the French were done with me."

"Do not forget that most of us tried to stop those fools," Madame Maxime reminded him. "We had a chance to create peace, but because of me, because of my oversight, our plans were undone."

"I didn't exactly help," Ron admitted. "If anything, it was my lack of action that caused the unrest in the first place… I should've done more, Madame Maxime. I'm sorry." I didn't take my job very seriously; I understand that now. I brought them all here, and then I washed my hands of them. Everyone warned me to take my job seriously, Crouch even told me off about it, but I kept depending the goodwill of others like some moron.

"You are young, it takes time to learn these things," Madame Maxime said, leading him into an unfriendly looking room. "Study and improve, Ronald. That is the mark of a truly great wizard."

"Ron!" Amanda called out as soon she saw him, surprising Ron even more. Amanda? What is she doing here? Shouldn't she be in class, or, something?

"She insisted on being here," Madame Maxime chuckled. "I shall give you two your privacy."

Just as Madame Maxime left to go join the Coutures, the Delacours, and Madam Pomfrey, Amanda rushed over and threw her arms around his neck, clinging tightly to him.

"Amanda?" Ron asked, slowly hugging her back. "What you doing here?"

"I've been so worried about you!" Amanda exclaimed, nearly squeezing the life out of him. "Ever since you were attacked, I've been sending letter after letter, but you never replied!"

Ron felt a strong pang of guilt, he had tossed every letter sent to him, including Amanda's.

"I'm sorry," Ron apologized. "I was not in a good place… I should have replied-"

"It's okay," Amanda whispered, still holding onto him. "I'm just so happy to see you again."

Amanda then pulled back, locking eyes with him. Her closeness made his face heat up, and he had to try very hard to maintain her gaze.

"I'm so sorry about your friend," Amanda said, her eyes welling up. Trace…

"Yeah," Ron looked down, feeling even more guilty. There's still hope, Ron. Keep fighting. Don't let this shitty world beat you. "Thanks… I owe Tracey everything."

"She was so brave," Amanda pulled him into another hug. "I wish I had the chance to meet her." You might get to meet her yet.

Ron said nothing, quietly returning the hug and relaxing his mind. He didn't care about the other people in the room, it just felt nice to be hugged by a friend given the last few days. I wish Daphne were here, but knowing her, she's probably taking care of Pansy today. I wonder how my friends took the news-

The door behind Ron suddenly opened, causing him to break away from Amanda's embrace in order to turn around. Is it time? The Headmaster stepped in to the room, his expression calm and collected as usual. Wait… Priscilla?! Following after the Headmaster was the last person Ron had expected to see within the Ministry, and as soon as she saw him, she quickly rushed over with a relieved smile.

"Ron!" Priscilla greeted, stopping right in front of him.

"Priscilla? What are you doing here?" Ron asked, a hint of panic in his voice. I know damn well what she's doing here, she's putting herself and the others in danger!

"I came to help you…" Priscilla was a little taken aback by his tone.

"Ron, who is this?" Amanda asked slowly.

"A friend of mine," Ron replied, guiding Priscilla away from the others. "Priscilla, it's not safe for you to be here-"

"They're going to take away your Magic, Tacky told me everything," Priscilla interjected, her voice filled with worry. "After everything you've done for us, I can't let that happen!"

"Did he put you up to this?" Ron asked, shooting a frown at the old man. "Tell me the truth, was this his idea?"

"No, I reached out to him," Priscilla replied. WHAT?! Why?! "Well, Tacky and Racky reached out to him on my behalf, he only helped me get here."

"What are you doing?" Ron asked. "The whole point of giving you Dumbledore Abode was so that you and the others would be safe, not waltzing into the Ministry-"

"I don't abandon my friends, Ron," Priscilla stood up straighter. "And I don't like this tone you're taking with me; I'm only trying to help." I'll show my fucking tone!

Ron's left eye twitched as his jaw clenched, making Priscilla lose what little gusto she had managed to summon.

"Ronald, enough," Dumbledore walked over. "Priscilla is here to help you, and to seek answers for herself."

"What answers?" Ron asked, looking to Dumbledore. "How could you bring her here? After everything she's been through-"

"Exactly, Ronald," Dumbledore said calmly. "She has been through a lot, as have her young friends. She wants to speak to the Wizengamot, she wants to know why they abandoned her." They?! You're the fucking Chief Warlock! You abandoned her!

"Then, she should just ask you, shouldn't she?" Ron grit out. "You did nothing until I brought her to your attention, even though you were well aware that there was shit like child prostitution happening in Knockturn Alley." Ron then looked to Priscilla. "Go on, ask him what he was up to while you were being forced into one fucked up situation after another." I'll tell you what he was doing, he was baiting the Dark Lord into Hogwarts itself, consequences be damned.

Priscilla shrunk even more, looking between Ron and Dumbledore with a timid look.

"Ronald, enough," Dumbledore ordered. "You will control yourself-"

"If she exposes herself, then the others will be in danger as well," Ron said bluntly. "I already have everything sorted out-"

"This isn't just about you," Priscilla muttered, stopping Ron.

"Pardon?" Ron asked.

"This isn't just about you," Priscilla said more firmly. "I'm the one who grew up in Knockturn Alley, Ron, not you."

Ron was visibly taken aback by her words.

"Look, I want to help you, but I also want some closure for myself," Priscilla explained. "For the others too. Don't take this away from me, please… Every time some creep forced himself onto me, I thought about this moment… It was just a fantasy then, but now, I… Now, I can at least tell them what they did to me. Even if it changes nothing, I want them to know that, while they feasted and enjoyed luxury, I slept in gutters and starved myself so the children with me could eat…"

Ron's anger was doused by her words, leaving him feeling like a right prat for putting his own needs above hers. I… Damn… I can't even begin to understand what she's been through. Honestly, she has more right to be here than I do, now that I think about it…

"These are dangerous people, Priscilla," Ron sighed out, rubbing his face harshly. "They will demand answers from you, answers that will lead them to the Orphanage. Are you sure about this?"

"I will protect her, Ronald," Dumbledore assured him. "Trust me, everything was done above the table, the documents needed to cast the Fidelius Charm on a property were discreetly placed within the Ministry's records. They cannot, by law, demand that we break the Fidelius Charm. After all, they approved of us using it in the first place."

"I'm not scared," Priscilla said, giving Ron a brave smile. "I used to be, but after you two came into my life, I haven't been afraid of anything. I know you'll both protect us, there are no doubts left in my mind."

Ron went to speak, but the ring of a bell echoed throughout the room. What was that?

"It's time, Ronald," Dumbledore said. "Are you ready?"

"I am," Ron replied, steeling his nerves. After today, everyone will know the truth about me. The scars, the Chronic Stress, the brain damage, even my suicide attempt… The Wizengamot thinks that I'm just some bastard who wants power for himself, but they have no idea that I plan to clock out the moment my work is finished. Fudge and Umbridge are going to destroy their own careers, and after enough time has passed, I'll put an end to their lives as well.

---

Monday 22nd February, 1994 (The Wizengamot Courtroom – Nearly Evening)

Ron sat in the middle of the courtroom, with Madame Maxime to his right and Madam Pomfrey to his left. In front of him sat the Wizengamot, all fifty-three of them looking down at him from their elevated seats. Dumbledore sat in the middle of them, on the front row, giving Ron a calming smile as the Court Scribe got her papers and quills in order.

Behind Ron, there were allocated seats for his Family and friends. His mother and father, his brothers, Charlie and Bill, Kirsten, Lord and Lady Greengrass, Pandora and Xeno, Lady Fawley, Sirius, Remus, who had arrived just in time to be let in, the Delacours, the Coutures, Priscilla, Greta and Marietta from The Quibbler, Rita Skeeter from the Daily Prophet, reporters from various other magazines such as Witch Weekly, and a handful of other witches and wizards that Ron didn't recognize occupied said seats, all of them waiting for the Headmaster to begin the trial. Fudge doesn't look happy at all; I don't think he was expecting the Headmaster to show up. Plus, Madame Maxime's presence is already causing a commotion.

"I believe that we are ready to proceed, are we not?" Dumbledore asked the Court Scribe.

"Yes, Chief Warlock," the woman replied.

"Disciplinary hearing of the twenty-second of February," Dumbledore started, and the scribe began writing everything down, "into offences committed against the Ministry of Magic and the slander of the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Oswald Fudge, by Ronald Bilius Weasley, resident of a property hidden by the Fidelius Charm within Ottery St Catchpole, Devon-"

"Pardon me," Umbridge cut Dumbledore off, and for some reason, that immediately pissed Ron off. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but did you just say that Mr. Weasley's property is hidden by the Fidelius Charm?"

"The paperwork is sitting right in front of me, Madam Umbridge," Dumbledore replied calmly. "It is all above board, I assure you."

"May I see it?" Umbridge asked, and Dumbledore wasted no time in Wandlessly sending the paperwork over.

Fudge, who was sitting on Dumbledore's left, gave Umbridge a searching look, and when she finally gave him a curt nod, he looked visibly disappointed. Get used to feeling that way, cunt. I'm going to wipe this floor with your fat, little face.

"Interrogators: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot," Dumbledore continued the trial. Got enough names there, mate? Want mine as well? "Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe: Ada Van Kruger." Fuck me, this already boring me to death. Fuck it, just send the Dementors over. Spare me this-

"Witnesses for the defence: Madame Olympe Maxime, Headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic," Dumbledore continued, while Ada the scribe kept writing with alarming speed. "Madam Poppy Pomfrey, Head Matron at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; Priscilla, last name unknown, a friend of the defendant."

"The charges against the accused are as follows," Dumbledore continued. "Through the use of his Magazine, The Quibbler, the accused has launched a smear campaign against the Ministry of Magic and the Minister for Magic, deliberately inciting civil unrest in the hopes of weakening the Ministry's authority. The accused is to be tried for treason against the people of Magical Britain and its Ministry of Magic. Should he be found guilty, he will be…" Dumbledore suddenly stopped reading, shooting a slow look in Fudge's direction. What? What are they going to do to me?

"Should he be found guilty, the accused will have his wand broken before being sent to a juvenile facility of the Ministry's choosing," Dumbledore continued, fixing his spectacles into place. Really? That's it? I've been smacked around an Old God; this is some pathetic competition. I'm honestly insulted. "Once he is of age, however, the accused will be transported to Azkaban, where he will serve a life sentence." Now, that's more like it!

There were audible gasps from the crowd behind Ron, but they were quickly silenced when Dumbledore raised his hand.

"You are Ronald Bilius Weasley, are you not?" Dumbledore asked Ron.

"Last time I checked, yes," Ron replied, making Dumbledore chuckle a little. Ah, I forgot that the old man loves a bit of sass.

"The accused will answer in a respectful and direct manner," Fudge ordered. The accused will put his foot up your arse if you don't shut your gob.

"Ronald," Madame Maxime whispered. "Behave." Right, time to get Sirius… Hehehe, I wish I could make that joke right now. Sirius and Remus would have a giggle for certain.

"Did The Quibbler release an article, on the eighteenth of February, which went into great detail about Werewolf living standards?" Dumbledore asked.

"It did," Ron replied.

"And would you say that this article slandered the Ministry and the Minister?" Dumbledore asked.

"The article was about Werewolf living standards, it was not focused on the Ministry and the Minister," Ron started. "We presented only facts, which were thoroughly vetted. If you have read the article-"

"Your article referred to the Ministry's legislations as 'insidious, tactless, and being resounding failures'," Umbridge cut in. "Do you honestly think that such powerful words would not paint the Ministry in a bad light?" That's more your fault than it is mine. You are all of those things, cunt.

"The article referred to your Anti-Werewolf legislation as 'insidious, tactless, and a resounding failure'," Madame Maxime spoke, her voice smooth but booming. "It did not refer to any other legislation as such."

"Regardless, these words have incited-" Umbridge started.

"I am not finished yet," Madame Maxime rose from her seat, matching the Wizengamot's height. "Ronald Weasley is a citizen of Magical Britain, and as such, he is perfectly within his rights to publish whatever he pleases upon the pages of his Magazine. He has not broken any laws by sharing vetted information, and despite your claims, you have yet to present conclusive proof of his 'treasonous actions'."

"Wizards and witches of the Wizengamot," Madame Maxime continued. "For years, the Daily Prophet has published unvetted information, which has often been challenged, without any repercussions. And the reason for this is quite simple, they have the right to speak freely within the Magical World. Does Mr. Weasley not have this right? If so, why?"

"It is not a matter of whether or not he can speak freely," Fudge snapped, his pudgy face pinching. Oh, he's already agitated. Not surprising, considering I gave proof of him taking bribes. "Just today, this boy has accused me of taking bribes!"

"No, I read the latest issue of The Quibbler, as disturbing as it was," Madame Maxime started. "And it did not make any direct accusations against you, Minister."

"He has fabricated 'evidence', which he proudly displayed in his Magazine," Fudge glared at Ron. "Tell me, boy, did you vet this as well?" Oh, shit… I did vet it, but Madam Bones didn't want me to share her involvement-

"Answer the question, Mr. Weasley," Umbridge pushed. "Was this 'record of finances' vetted, and if so, by who?"

"It is vetted," Ron started. "However, I have the right to protect the identity of my sources." Right? Do I have that right?

Ron looked towards Madame Maxime, who simply looked to Umbridge.

"How convenient for you, Mr. Weasley," Umbridge laughed condescendingly. "How utterly convenient."

"You have slandered me, Mr. Weasley," Fudge accused, his cheeks turning red. "Because of your last two issues, the people of Magical Britain have been wrongfully riled up, and instead of us working together to heal the country; we are forced to sit through this trial-"

"You're the one who wanted the trial, you fu-" Ron started.

"Ronald," Madam Pomfrey stopped him. "Breathe. Just breathe." Motherfuckers! We'll eat your livers!

"There is a very easy solution that you are ignoring, Minister," Madame Maxime matched the man's gaze. "If Mr. Weasley's information is indeed 'fabricated', as you say, then your actual financial records would prove it. Is that not so?"

Fudge shifted in his seat, his frown becoming deeper.

"Cornelius? Are you willing to present your financial records to back up your claims?" Dumbledore asked, his voice nothing but pleasant.

"I am the wronged party here, Dumbledore!" Fudge turned to Dumbledore, looking like a right prat for raising his voice.

"Which is exactly what we're trying to prove," Dumbledore said calmly. "If what you say is true, then what do you have to worry about?" He's so fucking stupid; it boggles my fucking mind. Who elected this cunt? How did he last so long without anyone calling him out?!

Ron looked between the Wizengamot Members, all of them had expensive ornaments on their person, and not one of them looked younger than thirty. Bunch of old cunts, growing nice and fat from the suffering of others.

"Cornelius, you have not answered-" Dumbledore started.

"I do not have to prove anything, I am not the one on trial," Fudge bit out. "It falls to the accused to provide proof of his innocence."

"So, I'm guilty until proven innocent?" Ron asked. What?! What horseshit is this?!

"That is how the Wizengamot operates, Mr. Weasley," Umbridge chuckled, and a bunch of members nodded their heads. Unbelievable… They make the rules, and there is no room for anyone to question them. "You would know that if you had any basic understanding of Magical Law. Can you, or, can you not, provide proof of your claims. Who vetted this information? Where did it originate from?" I could give up Madam Bones, but that would hurt her standing within the Ministry. Plus, it would also hurt her and Crouch's internal investigation into Fudge.

"I will not give up my source," Ron replied. "That is my final decision."

Some members of the Wizengamot began whispering to each other, while others gave Ron curious looks. Fucking Umbridge… This woman has become the bane of my existence very quickly.

"In that case, let us move onto our next inquiry," Dumbledore said, not looking very bothered. "What is your reason for publishing these two issues, Mr. Weasley?" Um… Because I can? What?

"I don't understand the question," Ron replied. "Why does Witch Weekly keep releasing articles on 'how to snog your crush'? It's their business, just as reporting the news is mine."

"Was your motive to hurt the Ministry's reputation?" Madam Bones finally said something.

"No, but any damage done to the Ministry's reputation is not my fault," Ron replied. "I shared facts, and if those facts make certain people look foolish and incompetent…" Ron looked to Umbridge, who immediately frowned, "… then that is on them. Not me."

"Then, pray tell, why involve my name in your most recent issue?" Fudge demanded. "Why fabricate records that imply I've been taking bribes from the Carrow Family?"

"Because the people need to understand why this has been happening for years on end," Ron replied. "It is highly unlikely that the Carrow Twins could kidnap, torture, rape, and murder innocent people for over a decade without anyone in the Ministry catching on. As for why I listed your name, Minister, it is because you are a corrupt bootlicker, one who has favoured a certain class-"

"The accused will control himself!" Umbridge ordered.

"You are out of line, boy!" Fudge warned. "If you continue to spread lies about me, I will have you gagged!"

"If Mr. Weasley is to be gagged, it won't be because you ordered it, Cornelius," Dumbledore said. "I am the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, not you. Let Mr. Weasley finish."

"Tell me, Minister, how do you afford a mansion on a Minister's salary?" Ron asked. "I've been to your home; I saw the grand marble statues and the extensive gardens. Who pays for that?"

"It is family money…" Fudge growled. Getting angry?

"Odd," Madam Bones spoke up. "I have heard of your family, Minister. They were not particularly wealthy; you've even told me so yourself."

"I know for a fact that your father left you little more than two hundred Galleons, Cornelius," Crouch said, while the other members looked to the Minister for an explanation.

Ron let out a cold chuckle, he couldn't believe how fucking corrupt these bastards were. They're just sitting there, looking down at me because I dared to do the right thing. I helped the people they were supposed to help, and now, I'm being punished for it. What kind of world is this? Good deeds are punished, while corruption and nepotism are rewarded.

"This is a fucking joke…" Ron said, shaking his head and glaring at Fudge.

"Ronald," Madam Pomfrey took his hand in hers. "Please, keep breathing like I taught you. Don't lose your temper." By what right does a rodent judge the Basilisk?

Ron drew in a deep breath, tightening his hold on Madam Pomfrey's hand. Control, Ron. Don't get distracted, just stick with the plan. Find some way to give Madam Pomfrey the stage.

"Do you want to know why I'm building the Werewolf Sanctuary?" Ron asked. "Why I've used The Quibbler to report on the suffering of my fellow citizens?"

"Tell us, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said before anyone could interrupt Ron.

"I wanted to help them, plain and simple," Ron told the truth. "You say that I'm trying to undermine the Ministry's authority, but you couldn't be further from the truth. If you had left me alone, we would not be here today. My only concern was to help the Werewolf community, it's hardly my fault that the Ministry has spent centuries persecuting said community."

"Do you honestly expect us to believe this, Mr. Weasley?" Umbridge asked, letting out a little giggle at the end. "You just wanted to help the Werewolves?"

"Yes, and I don't expect people like you to believe me," Ron replied. "You are cruel and greedy; how could you possibly understand my motives?"

"Enough of this…" Fudge hissed.

"I know exactly what it's like to lose everything because of bad fucking luck!" Ron snapped, unable to hide the pain in his voice.

The Wizengamot went dead silent at his outburst, exchanging looks and whispering to each other.

"I understand their pain, so when I learned of their treatment at the hands of others, I decided to help them," Ron went on. "I didn't ask the Ministry for a handout, I worked my arse off to bring together like-minded people, like Lord Fawley, who is one of your own, and together, we built something truly beautiful. But then, the Ministry showed up and began impeding our good work, and for what? What did we do to you? Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

"What do you mean by 'I understand their pain', Mr. Weasley?" a thin man wearing a golden chain asked. "Are you a Werewolf? Are you one of them?" Bloody hell… Fuck this cunt!

"No, but I have suffered more than most," Ron replied, looking to Madam Pomfrey. Enough of this garbage, I have more important things to do than sit here and let these cunts ruin my efforts. "Madam Pomfrey, tell them everything. Don't leave anything out."

The Wizengamot looked to Madam Pomfrey, who rose up from her chair, Ron's file in her hands.

"Mr. Weasley is terminally ill-" Madam Pomfrey started, but she was immediately interrupted by gasps and loud murmuring. Fuck… There it is… I'm Ronald 'the cripple' Weasley, now.

"Terminally ill?" Crouch asked, looking towards Ron with a furrowed brow. Go fuck yourself the lot of you.

"Another lie," Umbridge shook her head. "Do you think we are fools, Madam? Do you honestly think that we would believe-?"

"Poppy Pomfrey speaks the truth," Dumbledore said, silencing the room. "I can confirm this information as the Headmaster of Hogwarts, I have known about Mr. Weasley's medical conditions for nearly a year now."

Ron heard cameras go off from behind him, causing him to feel queasy and short on breath. They all know… Oh, no… Oh, fuck, everyone will know now. Ron closed his eyes and imagined himself on Stoatshead Hill, trying his hardest to escape the courtroom he was trapped in. I just want to be left alone, is that too much to ask?

"As I was saying," Madam Pomfrey restarted, shooting Umbridge a cold look. "Mr. Weasley is terminally ill; he suffered a Traumatic Brain Injury at the end of his first schooling year, which resulted in loss of memory and a month-long coma." Loss of memory?

Ron was pulled back into the courtroom, he had never lost his memories because of what the Entity had done to him. Is she making shit up?! Why?!

"He was in a coma…" someone whispered from behind him. "I remember reading about that."

"He's dying? He's only a kid," someone else whispered. Shut up! Shut the fuck up!

Ron clenched his fists, trying his hardest to not listen to the people whispering about him behind his back.

"And how did Mr. Weasley suffer this brain injury?" Umbridge recovered quickly. "The rumours behind his coma are… quite scandalous." I didn't do any Dark Magic! The old man lied to everyone! I'm not a fucking idiot!

"He was attempting to control Dark Magic well beyond his years," Pomfrey told the court, her eyes darting towards Dumbledore. No… That's not me…

"Gods…"

"Foolish boy…"

"Dark Magic?"

"The use of Dark Magic is his defence?" Fudge looked at Ron, there was a hint of smugness on his face. Don't look so smug, you're still going to die before me.

Ron looked up at Dumbledore, the old man was just staring back at him with an expressionless mask. Liar… You fucking liar…

"It is not uncommon for the students of Hogwarts to find themselves within the Restricted Section, playing with forces that they can't hope to control," Dumbledore said, keeping his eyes fixed on Ron. "Mr. Weasley is a brilliant young wizard, but brilliance often comes with a heavy price. In Mr. Weasley's case, the price is his never-ending curiosity."

Ron's knuckles turned bone-white, his eyes welling up. You fucking bastard!

"Ronald?" Madame Maxime whispered; she had moved over to his side due to his visible distress. "My dear child… Are you truly so ill?" Go away… Leave me alone…

"What was the Spell?" Umbridge asked, smirking at Ron for a moment.

"We were not able to determine that," Madam Pomfrey replied. "The trauma he suffered resulted in some loss of memory, as I already explained." They fucking planned this, didn't they? From the very start, while I was left in a coma, they got their story straight.

"Again, how utterly convenient," Umbridge looked to her fellow Wizengamot members, but they were just staring at Ron. Like I'm some fucking imbecile!

He wanted to drown himself in Calming Tonic, his heart was pounding so loudly in his ears that he feared his head would explode any minute. This was one of his most closely guarded secrets, and now, the whole fucking world would know about it.

"The proof of my words is on Mr. Weasley's skin," Madam Pomfrey said, shooting a quick look back at Ron.

She faltered at the sight of him, every instinct was telling her to take Ron far away from these vultures.

"Continue, Madam Pomfrey," Dumbledore said, but she couldn't look away from her patient.

"Ron…" Madam Pomfrey whispered. "Ronald, should I-?"

"Madam Pomfrey, continue giving the proof," Dumbledore ordered, making her turn back around.

"Mr. Weasley's body is covered in scar tissue, wounds that could not be healed due to the Dark Magic that caused them," Madam Pomfrey eventually said, promising herself to give Albus Dumbledore an earful for involving her in his elaborate lie. "His arms, legs, chest, and right hand are all scarred, including a portion of his brain."

"Show us proof," Umbridge said. "Words are not evidence, Madam Pomfrey."

"Pardon?" Madam Pomfrey blinked. "Show you proof?"

"Are we to strip the boy naked?" Crouch demanded, frowning at Umbridge. "Be silent, stop interrupting the defence."

"Show them," Ravenclaw Ron whispered in the back of Ron's mind. "Show them one of your arms, don't hesitate now. You've come so far already."

Without thinking, Ron raised his left arm into the air, pulling back his sleeve. The mission is all I have left. Fuck all of these bastards, I'm done with humans. I'm just fucking done… This time, people did more than gasp, some outright hissed at the sight of his scarred arm. Ron felt utterly humiliated, and despite his best efforts, he had to sniffle and wipe his eyes. His arm dropped back to his side, while his gaze dropped to his lap.

This would be a pyrrhic victory, after all.

"Mr. Weasley was later, in his second year, diagnosed with Chronic Stress Disorder," Madam Pomfrey went on, her voice was the only sound in the room. "Unfortunately, the chemical imbalances caused by his Chronic Stress result in his brain becoming inflamed if he is subjected to severe stress, as he is right at this very moment."

Madam Pomfrey made sure to shoot a deadly glance at Fudge.

"This has resulted in a peculiar predicament for Mr. Weasley," Madam Pomfrey opened his file, sending his brain scans to the members of the Wizengamot. "As you can all see, the earlier scans show very little brain damage, the black spots; however, over time, Mr. Weasley's brain damage has spread at an extraordinary rate, causing a multitude of problems in his everyday life. At the rate his brain damage is progressing, he will not live past the age of fifteen."

Ron suddenly felt Madame Maxime place her large hand on his shoulder, she looked both sympathetic and guilty at the same time. Your Veela friends didn't help, if that's what you're wondering. Ron said nothing, wiping his eyes again and look back down. When is this going to end? I just want to go home and practise against the P-12…

"Is this why Mr. Weasley is not attending Hogwarts any longer?" Fudge asked, he was looking sweatier by the second. Oh, fuck… This as well?

"Mr. Weasley is still a student of Hogwarts," Dumbledore told everyone. "As long as he wishes to attend Hogwarts, none will bar him entry."

"Then, why is he not at school like all the other children?" Umbridge demanded. "Why is he slandering the Ministry when he should be learning the importance of practising Magic safely, a lesson he clearly needs-"

"Shut your fucking mouth!" Sirius yelled from the crowd. "That kid has done nothing but help people from the start! He saved Harry-"

"Order!" Fudge suddenly snapped. "The crowd will cease-"

"He saved Harry Potter's life!" Sirius kept yelling, while Arthur and Remus failed to pull him back down. "He saved my life! After you bastards locked me away in Azkaban without a goddamn trial! No one helped me! No one spoke of my character! You all patted yourselves on the back and moved on, while I was left to rot for another man's crimes! Ron saved me; he gave me another chance-!"

"Order in the court!" Fudge barked. "Lord Black, you will restrain yourself-"

"Restrain this, you dishonest despot!" Sirius gave Fudge the bird.

Arthur and Remus grabbed Sirius, dragging him towards the exit as he fought back.

"Leave the kid alone! All he wants is to help other people!" Sirius kept shouting, right up until he was dragged out of the courtroom.

Ron maintained his silence, staring at his lap as he imagined all the ways he would torture Fudge and Umbridge before ending their lives. Remember these faces, Ron… One day soon, you'll get your revenge on them…

"Hem hem," Umbridge cleared her throat, looking to Madam Pomfrey. "Well? Why is he not at school? Is he unfit to attend Hogwarts? If so, would you say that his recent actions can be attributed to his sick mind?"

"Mr. Weasley does not suffer from cognitive decline," Madam Pomfrey replied. "As of right now, he is as sharp as always, which can be confirmed by his perfect grades."

"Then, why is he not at Hogwarts?" Umbridge persisted, looking for a chink in Ron's armour.

"Mr. Weasley has suffered the tragic loss of a friend very recently," Madam Pomfrey replied, she couldn't bring herself to tell the whole truth given Ron's current state.

"Yes, Tracey Davis," Umbridge nodded to herself. Get her name out of your mouth!

Ron finally looked back up, his rage yanking him out of his self-pity. Tracey! I won't be able to help her if I lose this fucking trial!

"To my knowledge, Mr. Weasley's other friends have all returned to their studies," Umbridge said. "Why did he not return with them?" You'd love that, wouldn't you? For me to disappear? Well, I'm not going anywhere, cunt! While people like you exist, I'll be there to put you in your places!

Ron looked Madam Pomfrey, giving her a nod. Do it, we can't stop halfway. I need to get my shit together right the fuck now!

"Mr. Weasley attempted to commit suicide shortly after learning about Miss. Davis' coma," Madam Pomfrey told the court, making even Umbridge go silent. Pandora is in the crowd, isn't she? Damn, there goes my promise to mum. "The Spell which nearly took her life was clearly meant for Mr. Weasley, and he has been suffering from a great amount of guilt, which is only made worse by his Chronic Stress. Two prefects, Cedric Diggory and Olivia Pearson, discovered him as he was about to jump off of the Astronomy Tower. They intervened, barely saving Mr. Weasley's life."

"Cedric saved his life?" a man with a scrubby brown beard spoke up from amidst the Wizengamot. I know this man, he's Amos Diggory.

"I sent Mr. Weasley home to be with his Family," Dumbledore said, eyeing the shocked and heartbroken faces within the crowd. "But, as usual, he was quick to pull himself together and begin reaching out to others. Of all my students, none can match Mr. Weasley's character and strength. I can say that with absolute certainty." Oh…

Dumbledore's words seemed to resonate with the crowd and the Wizengamot, all of them whispering and shooting sorry looks in Ron's direction. Fudge, Umbridge, and those working under them were quick to notice this, which gave them plenty of reasons to begin worrying.

"The truth is that, in the short amount of time I've known him, Mr. Weasley has done nothing but help those who cannot help themselves," Dumbledore went on. "I know this because he has approached me for advice many times over, including asking me to help him save a group of Squib children from the clutches of Knockturn Alley's darkest corners." Dumbledore then looked to Priscilla. "My girl, come forward and speak to us. Tell us how you first met Mr. Weasley." Wait… I met her in Knockturn Alley. How the fuck do I explain what I was doing down there?

Priscilla moved out of the crowd timidly, but once she was near Ron, she wasted no time in moving over to his side.

"Ron, is this all true?" Priscilla sniffled, wiping thick tears off of her face. "Please tell me that it's not true-"

"Priscilla, step forward and give your account," Dumbledore repeated.

"I… I met him just outside Knockturn Alley…" Priscilla quickly did as she was told. Wait, what?

Ron looked to the old man, who looked utterly innocent of witness tampering.

"At the time, I was…" she trailed off.

"Please, your words here carry weight," Dumbledore said. "Speak to us, tell us what you came here to tell us."

Priscilla sniffled, wiped her eyes again, and then she straightened her back.

"I am a Squib, and because of that, I was removed from the orphanage I lived in," Priscilla restarted. "Both of my parents died in the Great War, or so I'm told… It doesn't matter… What matters is that I was forced to sell myself from the day I turned twelve just to make a living, not one person I ever met really cared to say anything about it… I even came to the Ministry when I was thirteen, hoping to get some help for my younger friends, but when the man I spoke to learned that I was a Squib, he asked me to leave…"

"Do you remember what this man looked like?" Madam Bones immediately asked, her brow furrowed and her eyes fierce.

"No…" Priscilla shook her head. "He was tall, and he struck me when I kept begging him… I never came back after that…" Motherfucker! Another bastard to hunt down and flay! "I first met Ron when I was fifteen, in July of last year, he was passing by when I asked him for money. We started talking, and I don't know why, but I told him about my… profession…"

"Ron wasn't like the others, he didn't treat me poorly after I told him the truth," Priscilla looked back at Ron, she looked ready to start bawling again. "Instead, he offered me help, but I… I didn't trust him…" That part is true, it took me a good while just to get her to agree to see Dumbledore Abode.

"I didn't see Ron again till November," Priscilla continued. "Things were not good in Knockturn Alley, because of the Vampires, and I was forced to gather what little money I had and take my friends-"

"Who are your friends?" Lord Fawley asked. "How many of you are there?" Planning to build another farm, my Lord?

"There were thirty of us, but Jack, Kitty, Brandon, and Carmilla went missing before I met Ron a second time," Priscilla said, her voice cracking. Really? She lost some of her friends? I never knew… "I took the rest and fled Knockturn Alley, only to end up homeless because no one wanted Squibs near their property. I had money, but… But it didn't matter…"

Priscilla wiped her eyes again.

"We got separated because of infighting, and everything just started falling apart…" Priscilla struggled to get the words out. "But, then, I met him again… We started talking, and before I knew it, I had told him most of my problems. I was just trying to get somethings off of my chest, but Ron really listened to each and every word, and at the end, he offered to help me. I didn't believe that he would, but he was persistent, even a little forceful… But not in a bad way!" she quickly added.

"Go on, child," Dumbledore said encouragingly. "You are doing well."

"I didn't have any choice but to accept his help, though I was sure that he was up to something," Priscilla said, shooting a quick look at Ron. "I was wrong about him, and I'm really glad that I was. Ron reached out to the Headmaster, and together, they built a home for me and my friends-"

"Mr. Weasley built you a home?" Madam Bones asked, sounding a bit touched for once.

"He did, and he has never asked me for anything in return," Priscilla said, drawing in a sharp breath. "Because unlike all of you, he's a good person. I thought I knew him, but after today, I can honestly say that I've never met a kinder person in my entire life. There are thirty-four of us living in that house now, and I'm the oldest-"

"He put thirty-four children into one house?" Umbridge tried to win back the Wizengamot.

"We each have our own rooms," Priscilla said, frowning at Umbridge. "He built us a manor, with the Headmaster's help, that is. Every month, he puts a hundred Galleons into an account he opened in my name…" Priscilla suddenly choked up. "We… The little ones are starting school soon, the Headmaster hired three lovely Elves who take care of us, teach us to read and write. I thought we would all die in Knockturn Alley, every day I used cry myself to sleep because I knew how me and my friends were going to end up. But the day I met him; my life changed forever."

Priscilla then looked at each and every Wizengamot member, some of them even shrunk because of her gaze.

"All of you are dressed in such fine clothes, you all have gold and silver on your fingers and ears," Priscilla said, some bitterness seeping through. "I used to give the bread I could afford to the youngest in my group, while the others and I ate out of bins." Gods… "How can you do this?! How can you sit there and try to throw him in Azkaban?! You lot should be in Azkaban, not him! How could you let us live like animals…?" Priscilla let out a sob.

Madam Pomfrey quickly moved over to her side, putting an arm around her and whispering words of comfort.

"You should all be ashamed of yourselves…" Priscilla began rambling. "He's the only good person here… I watched my friends die, I lost them even though I tried so fucking hard…"

"Shhh, child," Madam Pomfrey tried to console her, but she fully broke into tears.

Ron finally reached his limit, shooting out his chair and marching up to the Wizengamot.

"I'm done with this," Ron hissed at Fudge. "You incompetent, petty bully! Give me your verdict!"

"You do not-" Fudge started.

"Just stop it!" Ron barked, making the man jump. "Headmaster, start the vote. I'm done. You are all wasting my time, I could be out there right now, helping the poor souls you've abandoned in Diagon Alley. But instead, I'm sitting in here and letting you question my character. I don't have all the time in the world, just get this over with already." I'm taking Priscilla and leaving; she shouldn't be here after everything she's suffered through.

"I think we've all heard enough," Dumbledore said, looking towards Madam Bones.

She gave a nod, looking back to Priscilla before lowering her gaze.

"If you still think I'm trying to ruin this country and take power for myself, then you're bloody mental," Ron told the Wizengamot. "I have very little time left on this Earth, and I just want to do some good before I suddenly drop dead one day. Give me the verdict, stop wasting all of our time."

"Those in favour of conviction?" Dumbledore asked.

Fudge raised his hand, but not a single person followed his lead, not even Umbridge. Why am I not surprised? No honour among thieves, eh? Well, this doesn't absolve you, Umbridge. You're on my radar now, which means that you're a walking corpse. It might not be today, or tomorrow, or even a year from now, but eventually, I'm going to take your fucking life. I will avenge all the blood you have shed to get here; I promise.

"Those in favour of clearing the accused of all charges?" Dumbledore asked, raising his hand.

The rest didn't waste a second in following Dumbledore's lead, securing fifty-two votes in favour of Ron's innocence. Dumbledore raised his gavel and brought it down, smiling at Ron.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley is hereby cleared of all charges."

---

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Do you guys remember when I used to split the chapters if I crossed 15k words? Yeah, me neither lmao! Well, I hope you enjoyed that, I really wanted to finish the trial this chapter, I want to start getting things ready to move onto the long awaited fourth year!

I shall see you all soon, I have exams coming up soon, so there might be a little delay. (It won't be as long as the last one, too many bloody assignments)