Fate Chapter 130 - Six Years, a harry potter fanfic

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Chapter 130 is here, sort of!

BIG ANNOUNCEMENT!

1. This is only half the chapter, I'm currently reworking the duels because of a cockup on my end. Very sorry, will be fixed soon!

2. Pansy, Millie, and Theo's POVs will follow as well, summing this chapter up at a solid 40kish.

Please Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, and I do not intend to make any money off of this. Harry Potter is the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling , and I take no credit of it whatsoever.

I was also inspired by Demon Eyes Laharl's: THE RED KNIGHT! and also from Random-Fruitcake04's: CHOICES! I hope you check them out as well because they are genuinely very good stories.

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

Fate

Chapter 130 – Six Years

Albus Dumbledore's POV

Saturday 27th February, 1994 (The Wizengamot– Early Morning)

"This is treason!" Cornelius exclaimed, causing half the Wizengamot to roll their eyes.

The meeting to select a new Minister for Magic was underway, and had been for the last twelve hours. Cornelius had not taken well to his firing, even managing to drum up enough support to slow down the Wizengamot's inevitable decision. Strangely, however; Cornelius' most devout employee, Madam Dolores Jane Umbridge, was nowhere to be found. She has already begun to distance herself from him, a truly self-serving woman. She holds loyalty to no one but herself.

"You are not above the Wizengamot's decisions, Cornelius," Albus reminded the furious wizard. "What you are doing right now, that is closer to treason than our decision."

"You're behind this," Cornelius hissed, his fat finger pointing towards Albus. "You have always wanted my Ministership-"

"If he wanted it, it would be his," Tiberius Ogden sneered. "Madam Bones, please send for your Aurors. Cornelius Fudge no longer has any reason to cause a ruckus within this building-"

"I have powerful friends-" Cornelius started, but Albus had reached the end of his patience.

"Where are your powerful friends?" Albus asked, his features hardening. "Bring them to me, Cornelius; I will gladly receive them."

The chamber fell silent, and Cornelius visibly shrunk before Albus' presence. Goodbye, Cornelius. You could have been the Minister who saved Magical Britain, but instead, you will be remembered as the most foolish Minister of our times.

"Gawain, escort Mr. Fudge to the Atrium," Amelia ordered, fixing up her monocle. "The Ministry will continue to investigate your actions during your term, Mr. Fudge. We will be in touch." She still wants him arrested?

"This way, Fudge," Gawain said, not a hint of respect in his voice.

"This is not over, Albus!" Cornelius promised, but the older wizard could hear the defeat in Cornelius' voice. I'm afraid it is, Cornelius. Goodbye.

The members of the Wizengamot broke into whispers as Cornelius was escorted out by Gawain; the Ministership of Cornelius Fudge was finally over. Albus breathed deeply, now was not the time to become complacent. He had to nominate Amelia Bones in front of a tired Wizengamot, most of whom cared more about going home than selecting a leader for their country.

"Finally, an end to this nonsense," Muriel Prewett rose up. "Come, Augusta, a strong pot of tea will reinvigorate-"

"Lady Prewett, I'm afraid that our business has not yet concluded," Albus said, earning a bland look from the seasoned witch. "We have to select a temporary Minister for Magic; the people of Magical Britain are relying on us to lead them out of the darkness. We must begin healing this country as quickly as possible, do you not agree?"

Muriel looked anything but convinced, but she sat back down nonetheless. She understands the importance of this decision, this country's future depends on who we select. But first, let's wait for the opportunists to play their hands. I'd rather join in once everyone's hand is revealed.

One Hour Later

As predicted, a handful of nominations had been made, though most had already decided on Amelia taking on the role of Minister. Unexpectedly, however, Pius Thicknesse's name had come up quite a few times, which had given Albus something to ponder over.

Could Pius Thicknesse become a threat to Amelia during the elections? I will speak with Pius if he chooses to run for Minister, I never knew that he had such ambitions.

"Do you swear to uphold your duties as Minister for Magic, even in the most trying of times?" Albus asked Amelia, who now stood at the centre of the courtroom.

"I swear," Amelia replied, hand over her heart.

"Do you swear to wholeheartedly serve the wizards and witches of Magical Britain until the end of your term?" Albus continued the 'ceremony'.

"I swear," Amelia replied, unblinking and unmoving.

"Then, as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot," Albus stood up, smiling down at Amelia. "I bestow upon you the Office of Minister for Magic; you will hold this Office, and all of its responsibilities, until we can have a proper election. Congratulations, Minister Bones."

"You all honour me," Amelia said, giving a formal nod. "I will steer this country back onto the right path, I swear it."

The Wizengamot applauded and congratulated the new Minister with all the gusto of a Flobberworm, those sitting furthest from Albus were already sleeping in their wooden chairs. Now that Cornelius is no longer riling up his people, we can all go home.

"I think it best that we end this meeting, now," Albus said, looking around the chamber. "I suggest you all go home and rest, we have much work to do if we're to bring this country back from the brink."

The Wizengamot members exchanged looks, some already looked threatened by Albus exerting his power for a change. Their looks did not faze Albus in the slightest, he knew quite well that none of them would dare move against him. His reputation alone would protect him from any attack, any ounce of doubt, or, thoughts of mutiny.

He was Albus Dumbledore, the Grand Sorcerer. Still, I would be wise to watch my back, especially if I become inconvenient for my peers.

They all shuffled out one-by-one, while Albus remained seated. He could see that Amelia wanted to have a word with him, she had been lingering by the door for far too long. Perhaps she too needs my advice, just as Cornelius once did. Once the chamber finally became empty, Amelia closed the doors with a wave of her hand. A private conversation? Interesting.

"So, it all worked out like you planned," Amelia said, approaching his seat.

"Not quite, but yes," Albus smiled pleasantly, he felt quite proud as her former Headmaster. "Well done, Amelia; I always knew that your hardworking nature would take you far. You've made Hufflepuff proud."

"… Thank you, Headmaster," Amelia said, her expression stern as always. She was never comfortable with compliments, even as a girl.

"Something is bothering you?" Albus asked, deciding to offer her a helping hand. "If you need advice, Amelia, you only have to ask-"

"I'm not Fudge," Amelia said bluntly, returning to form. "This is what I wanted to talk about, actually. I don't want you moving behind my back as you did with Fudge. I run the Ministry, you run the Wizengamot. We work together, not against each other. These are my terms, Dumbledore. If you can't accept them, then I will not tolerate the Order's vigilantism." I see.

Albus continued to smile, he could see that she did not need him.

"I trust you to make the right decisions," Albus said.

"Then, we are settled," Amelia gave a nod. "You should know, I have decided to name Barty as my Head of Magical Law Enforcement."

Albus remained silent for the moment, though he greatly disagreed with this decision. I must talk her out of it, Barty has only been made colder with time.

"What of his work on the Triwizard Tournament?" Albus asked. "Surely, he told you about this-"

"I will do a reshuffle of the entire Ministry," Amelia cut in. "I want to remove the rats, Dumbledore. The two-faced scum who work alongside us, but only serve the Old Families. The Ministry must become an independent force within Magical Britain, only then will we have peace."

"Have you told Barty the truth about the Dark Lord?" Albus asked.

"Not yet, but I will," Amelia replied. "He has to know, Dumbledore. We can't get caught off-guard again." Her mind is made up. I will have to tell Ronald and Severus about this.

"Try to keep him under control," Albus smiled. "That is all I ask."

"Keep your word, and I will keep mine," Amelia said, turning to leave. "Now, pardon me, but I have unfinished business with a certain Senior Undersecretary."

Amelia Bones' POV

Saturday 27th February, 1994 (Ministry of Magic – Morning)

"Is Umbridge in?" Amelia asked the witch behind the desk, not bothering to hide her disdain.

"Oh, Madam Bones…" the witch sat up straighter, fixing her glasses into place whilst tossing her crossword puzzle away. Mystifications of Arithmancy? That's a difficult puzzle, but she's well on her way. An academic.

"Minister Bones," Amelia corrected, knowing quite well that word would spread quickly within the Ministry. She will no doubt run to her friends after I'm done with Umbridge, and they will then run to their friends. Before lunch, everyone will know I'm in charge.

"Minster…" the witch muttered, looking almost in awe. Odd behaviour. "You're here to fire her, aren't you?"

"Pardon?" Amelia narrowed her eyes, and the witch let out a muffled gasp.

"Sorry… I was out of line," the witch apologized in her strong Scottish accent, giving a sheepish grin to boot. Who is this girl? She seems familiar.

"Who are you?" Amelia asked sternly.

"… Abigail Gibbon…" the witch sighed out. "You can fire me if you like, just let me watch you fire her, first. Please?"

"Miss. Gibbon, why would the Senior Undersecretary hire such an unprofessional girl?" Amelia had to ask. And why hasn't she let you go? I doubt she could stand someone so… carefree.

"Because my uncle sold me off," Abigail replied dully, flicking her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder. Interesting.

"Explain," Amelia ordered.

"He wanted me out of the house," Abigail grimaced. "And 'Madam' Umbridge decided that he was just handsome enough to court… So, she shows up at our place and offers me a job, and my uncle accepts it on my behalf before I can even mull it over. He owes her a favour, now, while I'm stuck at work every day… Work, can you believe it?" Gibbon? Ah, Malcolm Gibbon, owner of Gibbon's Compendium. Now, I know why she's so familiar.

"You must be Malcolm Gibbon's niece," Amelia began putting things together. "You only recently graduated from Hogwarts, am I correct?"

"How do you know about me?" Abigail quickly asked, looking slightly suspicious.

"I keep my eyes on talented young witches and wizards, such as your classmate, Nymphadora Tonks," Amelia replied.

"I've seen her around," Abigail nodded to herself. "She's a bit cute, isn't she? Never really noticed at Hogwarts, but-"

"Is Umbridge in her office?" Amelia interjected; she was too tired to listen to this nonsense.

"Oh, no," Abigail shook her head. "She left early yesterday, she was on edge the whole day, you see? I came in early this morning, I hate it when she screams at me, but Madam Umbridge still hasn't shown up. It's very unlike her, she's usually very punctual. Not that I'm complaining, of course. I like the quiet-"

"Do you know when she'll make an appearance?" Amelia interjected again.

"I don't think she'll be coming back," Abigail admitted, surprising Amelia. "You're the Minister for Magic, now, right? She knows you hate her; she really hates you as well." Good, I prefer it this way.

"You're suggesting that she'll just run away?" Amelia asked.

"She'll go find work elsewhere, and eventually, she'll try to sabotage you in some petty attempt at revenge," Abigail figured. "She's the pettiest woman I've met, after all. She can't let anything go, ever." This girl seems to know Umbridge quite well. At least, that's what it sounds like.

"Abigail, why don't you write a letter for me?" Amelia decided to be petty herself, just this once.

"A letter, Minister?" Abigail asked curiously.

"One demanding the resignation of Madam Dolores Jane Umbridge," Amelia clarified, glad to see a rush of excitement take over Abigail's face. "Tell her that she is to hand me her letter of resignation, either in person, or, via owl-mail, by the end of Monday."

"I suppose this isn't so bad," Abigail smiled to herself. "At least, I get to fire her before I go, in a way. When should I pack up my things?" Hmmm.

Amelia knew of Malcolm Gibbon, and his accursed business, quite well; the man was a 'Collector' of Dark Artifacts, many of which he would sell to Dark Wizards and to curious Lords and Ladies. Arthur Weasley had attempted many times to go after this fence, however, Gibbon had been smart enough to not tamper with Muggle objects, dealing only in Wizarding Creations. He is holding onto his business through a technicality, but the moment we take that away from him, he'll go underground. Or, worse, he'll find his way to the Dark Lord. Gibbon is quite vocal about his beliefs in the 'Dilution of Wizarding Blood', he's almost fanatical. The Dark Lord will hear of him-

"Minister Bones? Are you unwell?" Abigail broke into Amelia's thoughts. "You do look a bit peaky, actually."

"Forgive me, I have not had time to sleep," Amelia apologized, looking Abigail over. She doesn't seem to share her Uncle's opinions, she even finds Nymphadora, a known Metamorphmagus, 'cute'. If I send her home, she'll be stuck with her degenerate uncle, until he ships her off again. Maybe even to one of his friends, this time. It's not unheard of for Pure-Bloods to trade in marriage.

"After you're done with the letter, report back to me," Amelia made up her mind. I'll give her a chance to get away from her uncle, but she'll have to work for it.

"Report back to you?" Abigail blinked. "You want to… fire me in person…? Seems a touch like overkill-"

"Miss. Gibbon, you must learn to control your tongue," Amelia said. "I am not going to fire you; I am going to teach you."

"Teach me?" Abigail looked even more confused, now.

"You are clever, I can see that for myself," Amelia started. "You were also observant enough to take note of Umbridge's behaviours, and from that crossword puzzle on your desk, I can see that you took your studies seriously."

Abigail looked down at the Mystifications of Arithmancy puzzle within her copy of the Daily Prophet, she had nearly finished it within one hour.

"Oh, I'm just good at Arithmancy," Abigail said, sounding almost boastful. "The rest of my education… Well, there's a reason why I'm not already working as an Auror." An Auror?

"You will not be an Auror," Amelia said decisively. Alastor would hang me up by my feet. "Instead, I will take you on as my secretary, until you are trained enough to work for a Head of a Department. However, you will remember who gave you another chance, and as such, you will keep faith with me. Is that understood, Miss. Gibbon?"

"Well, it doesn't really sound like I have a choice…" Abigail muttered under her breath.

"You do," Amelia assured her. "You can go back to your uncle, I'm sure he'll be delighted to host you again."

Abigail shuddered at the thought, and Amelia noticed.

"Pack up your desk, I want to put you to work," Amelia said, and when Abigail gave a nod; Amelia began to leave.

"Um… What about Minister Fudge's secretary?" Abigail asked. She'll be put under review, and then, she'll be relocated to another position. I can't trust anyone who worked directly under Fudge.

"She will be moved to another floor," Amelia replied. "Forget about her, you have thirty minutes to come find me. I want a finished copy of that letter the next time I see you." We've done it, Rufus. We've finally begun cleaning out the vermin from our Ministry.

"I'm on it, Minister."

Harry Potter's POV

Saturday 27th February, 1994 (St. Mungo's – Midday)

Harry had no idea why he was even here; Hermione had made plans with Ginny without informing her other friends about said plans. One minute, Harry had been sleeping peacefully, and the next, an excited Hermione had barged into his dorm at sunrise. Poor Dean, she saw him in his undies… He's not going to talk to me or Neville for weeks, I can feel it.

Harry and Neville had then absentmindedly followed Hermione and the Weasleys to St. Mungo's via the Headmaster's Office; Harry had noticed that Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen during the entire event.

At around ten, they had been woken up again, this time to meet Lysander Lovegood. He was smaller than Harry had expected, but nonetheless, he was still adorable enough that Harry was glad to have come. He had a thin, tiny face, with golden tufts of hair just like his father's. He had mostly slept through the introductions, only waking up a few times to cry before going back to sleep.

In truth, the one thing Harry couldn't help but focus on was Ron. The redhead was in very high spirits, and was behaving more like his old self, constantly making jokes and showing Lysander off to everyone. He only put Lysander down when Mrs. Weasley told him that Lysander had made a mess.

The trip had been more than worth it, but now, with all of that done, Harry was beginning to feel restless. He was supposed to be at practise with his Quidditch Team, they needed to train regularly if they were to defeat Hufflepuff after the Easter Break. The twins were in a similar boat, though they didn't seem to mind being away from Hogwarts. I should ask them, nonetheless. The team can't practise properly without its Beaters.

Harry looked towards Remus and Sirius; they were celebrating in the corner with Mr. Weasley, 'Lord' Greengrass, and Mr. Lovegood. Are they secretly drinking inside a hospital? Harry shook his head in disapproval, though his eyes lingered on Remus.

Something was not right with his foster father…

Remus looked sickly once again, as he always did near the end of every month. Not to mention that he disappeared out of nowhere, he was gone for ages! He didn't even say goodbye, nor did he send any letters. He must've been on the move, then, right? Harry's eyes drifted across the room, finding Ron lounging about with his siblings. He had become more like himself again, quiet and reserved. His siblings were chatting animatedly with each other, while Ron silently listened to them. He looks content enough. That's good, I'm glad he's finally getting better.

Harry looked back to Remus, something shifting behind his eyes. He was helping Ron build the Werewolf Sanctuary, wasn't he? That's why he ran off right before it opened up. Harry had had his suspicions about Remus' strange disease for a while, but now; he was finally beginning to see the truth.

Remus was a Werewolf, there was no other explanation. His scars, his monthly disappearances, his odd sickness after every full moon… How did I not see it before? Why didn't they just tell me?

Ron had to know, that much was obvious, but Harry was certain that there were others who knew the truth as well. And they all hid it from me… Like always… Harry's eyes changed focus to Sirius, who was sniggering like a child and not even hiding his flask. He definitely knows, and he never bothered to tell me. Why? I don't hold it against Remus, I would never do that.

Harry frowned and fidgeted in his spot, his eyes darting from person to person. The adults all knew, of that Harry was certain. Dumbledore was also in on it, keeping things from him for no explainable reason. What about the other Weasleys? Had Ron told them? No, I don't think he would do that. They certainly don't act like Remus is a Werewolf. Wait… Maybe that's because they're very tolerant of others?

Harry finally looked to his own best friends, Hermione and Neville. They were sitting with Greengrass, and Neville was even chatting with her. This might've bothered Harry in the past, but now, he simply wished to listen in. Probably Pure-Blood stuff, it's why Hermione looks so distant. She's bored out of her mind.

Did Hermione know about Remus?

She probably did…

Hermione was a genius, after all.

Harry decided that he'd just ask her outright, there was no point in waiting for her to tell him. No one is going to tell me anything. Everyone will keep making decisions for me behind my back.

With his mind made up, Harry decided to find his way back to Hogwarts. It wouldn't be difficult; Harry knew enough about the floo system to navigate it properly, now. I hope Sirius never tells anyone about the time I landed in a cake shop…

Harry moved towards the twins after, the team needed its Beaters.

"Harry, there you are," Bill was the first to spot him. "Come and sit down with us."

"Make some room," Kirsten said, pulling Fred closer to herself.

"Merlin, do I weigh anything to you?" Fred asked immediately, looking surprised for a change.

"About as much as a grape," Kirsten laughed.

"Go on, Harry," George invited. "Sit down, tell us what you think of Lysander."

"Oh, he's really…" Harry started awkwardly. Small? "Cute. Yeah, he was really cute. Um… Fred and George, I'm going to head back to Hogwarts-"

"You're going back?" Ginny asked, looking around for Neville and Hermione.

"I'll join you," Ron said, standing up. You will? Why? Shouldn't you stay with your godson?

"You're leaving too?" Bill asked Ron. "What about Lysander?"

"He's sleeping, Bill," Ron replied. "So are Pandora and Luna, and we shouldn't disturb them. The birth is over, and we all got to meet him." Ron then smiled to himself. "He's so tiny, did you see his feet?" He did have small feet.

"I guess that makes sense," Fred nodded, looking to George. "To Wood, then, George?"

Harry shot a quick look towards Ron, who had clearly heard that the Gryffindor Team was training today.

"Best of luck on that," Ron turned his attention to Harry. "Remind Wood that he owes me a favour, will you, Harry? I don't want him to forget." Wait… I owe him one as well, for getting Percy off of Angelina's back.

Harry felt the urge to frown at Percy, why had he made such a big deal about Angelina? He has a problem with everyone in Gryffindor, so it's clearly his own fault that no one likes him. Ron's siblings were questioning him about Wood, but he was expertly avoiding giving any answers, so Harry remained silent until they decided to move on.

"You should all go, then," Charlie suggested eventually. "Get some rest, especially you, Ron. I'm serious."

"Okay, okay…" Ron put his hands up in mock surrender. "I'll get some sleep, I promise." Why do I get the feeling that he's lying?

Bill had clearly caught on too; he was giving Ron the dullest of looks. At least, I got Fred and George on board. Now, we can train properly.

"I'm going to go grab Daphne," Ron said suddenly, gesturing Harry to follow him. "Odd that Neville and Hermione are having a chat with her, eh?"

"Yeah," Harry replied simply, it was odd. Probably Neville's doing, he wants to befriend the Slytherins.

"Should I go wake Luna?" Ginny asked, appearing by Harry's side.

"No, let her stay with Pandora and Lysander," Ron said. "Xeno wants to look after them, Luna might even skip a few days of school."

"How do you know that?" Ginny asked quickly.

"We discussed it," Ron replied. We?

"Who's we?" Ginny asked, sounding even more nosey.

"The adults and I," Ron replied, shooting a quick look back at Ginny. "They wanted Luna to go back to school, but she wanted to stay with Lysander. So, I spoke to Xeno and Pandora on Luna's behalf, and they changed their minds. I don't even know why mum and dad were getting involved in the matter…"

"That fits," Ginny nodded to herself.

As they neared Greengrass, Hermione, and Neville; the unlikely trio broke off their conversation before they could be overheard. What were they discussing? Hermione and Greengrass look annoyed with each other, though that's nothing new.

"We're all heading back to Hogwarts," Ron said. "Want to tag along?"

"Yes, thank you," Greengrass stood up, smoothing out her expensive pyjamas. "Longbottom?"

"If everyone's going, of course," Neville got up, smiling at Harry. "Did you know Daphne is trying to start her own business, Harry?" Daphne?

'Daphne' and Hermione shot Neville semi-annoyed looks, while Ron grinned not-so-subtly. What's with that creepy smile?!

"She should finish her education, first," Hermione said, looking towards Greengrass. "And you should try to pick up Arithmancy-"

"I have been tutored by the best, Granger," Greengrass interjected coldly, not sparing Hermione a glance. "Believe me, my education has been far more extensive than yours. Bauernmädchen." Was that German?

"Daphne…" Ron intervened, looking distant again. "She was only giving an opinion."

Greengrass cocked an eyebrow, looking between Hermione and Ron before scoffing.

"I know my way back," Greengrass walked past them, barely missing Harry's shoulder. Are they all right? I've never seen them act like this towards each other before, they were always attached at the hip before.

"Ron?" Ginny eventually broke the awkward silence. "Is everything all right between you two?"

"No, Ginny… We broke up," Ron sighed out, stunning them all into silence. "I tried to kill myself, remember?" Harry's stomach dropped, and by the looks of it; he wasn't alone. "I broke her heart… So, she hates my guts, now."

Ron then turned around to leave.

"Let's just go back…" Ron muttered under his breath, leaving with slumped shoulders.

Harry didn't really know what to say, Ron clearly had more issues to deal with than Harry could imagine. I just hope he gets help, and I should try my best not to cause him any trouble. Honestly, though, should he really be back at Hogwarts? Harry decided not to follow up on that thought, getting curious about Ron was not a mistake that he needed to repeat.

"Nev, ready to head back?" Harry asked Neville.

"Sure, mate," Neville agreed, looking rather unsettled. Me too, Nev. That was really awkward…

They all began making their way towards the exit, where the adults were speaking to the Weasleys. Remus and Sirius were clearly waiting for him, both of them smiling at him. Why didn't they tell me?

Harry decided to stay quiet for now, he'd figure out the truth for himself if no one was going to tell him. Hermione and Ron both know, I should start by questioning Hermione. With Ron, I'll have to be more careful… I'd rather not upset him any further.

Blaise Zabini's POV

Saturday 27th February, 1994 (The Sanctuary – After Lunch)

"You didn't come down for lunch," Blaise said, inspecting Ron.

The redhead sat in his favourite, his book on 'Progenitor Magic' open in his lap. He has something on Lord De Luca, I know it. Blaise sat down across from Ron, waiting patiently for him to start.

"I had lunch here," Ron sat up straighter, closing the book.

"What did Marty cook for you?" Blaise asked out of curiosity.

"Corned Beef, with a side of mash and vegetables," Ron hummed, clearly full from his meal. "I missed home; my mum's cooking, actually… It was really nice, even Marty went for seconds. Talking him into eating lunch with me took a while, though."

"I should move up here," Blaise looked around the large room.

"We can share a bed, mate," Ron smirked, though his mirth didn't reach his eyes. No, thank you.

"And I've changed my mind," Blaise decided. I don't think he wants to share this place; I'd just be intruding. "You wanted to see me? I found your note."

"Right," Ron nodded, adorning a more serious look. "Blaise, I… Lord De Luca is dead… I'm really sorry, mate."

Blaise felt the wind leak out of his lungs, while his gut tightened so painfully that he nearly keeled over. I knew it… She fucking killed him in cold blood, just like the others. Just like my actual father, whoever he was. Suddenly, his mother was not a cold, neglectful bitch, but rather, a heartless murderer who had everyone under her spell.

She was terrifying, and now; he was definitely on her hit list.

"Blaise?" Ron leaned forward, but Blaise couldn't even lift his gaze. I got him killed, didn't I? I sent a letter… A fucking letter… I murdered him for being treating me like a son…

Ron suddenly shook Blaise lightly, his brow furrowed in concern.

"This isn't on you," Ron said firmly. "Blaise, you didn't do anything wrong. You wanted to help him-"

"She killed him because I rebelled against her," Blaise managed, his throat drying up. "Usually, her marriages last longer… A few years, even."

"Merlin…" Ron muttered, shifting in his spot.

"That fucking letter, Ron," Blaise felt his shirt start to soak. "I must've spooked her, made her move up her schedule." Knowing her, she's probably been too busy with legal work to come after me, but… It's only a matter of time; she won't let this go.

"Will she come after you?" Ron asked.

"Yes…" Blaise shuddered; it was freezing in here. "I'm sweating, can you give me some room…?"

"Sorry," Ron backed off a little. "Mate, talk to me… Tell me what you need, and I'll go and do it."

"Do what, Ron?" Blaise asked, they had already lost. "She already… It's over, don't you get it? She is never going to forgive me for this, I'll be cast out at the very least."

"Is that so bad?" Ron asked. "Blaise, she is a fucking loon, and you're not safe around her."

"I know that," Blaise felt the urge to shout. "I have to get to Gringotts, move my gold into an account I opened a while back."

"You're going to run away?" Ron asked. I'm going to survive.

"You want to fight her?" Blaise frowned; he knew they would lose. "No, we're not doing that… Just leave it, we have to go right now."

"Blaise, you're panicking-" Ron tried.

"Shut up and help me!" Blaise shot out of his chair. "This is your fault! You talked me into this!"

Ron just stared back at him, his look of empathy slowly vanishing. Oh… Fuck… Blaise immediately regretted his words; it was pathetic of him to throw all the responsibility at Ron's feet. I chose to warn Lord De Luca, I didn't want him to get hurt… How can she keep doing this? Does she enjoy it-?

"You wrote the letter; I didn't even know that you were doing this-" Ron started.

"I'm sorry… You're right," Blaise interjected. I can't waste any time; I need his help. Concentrate, Blaise. You've planned for this. "Ron, please. Help me. I have to get to Gringotts, right now."

The redhead drew in a deep breath, which meant that he was trying to calm himself down. Thank Merlin, pissing him off is the last thing I need…

"Marty," Ron suddenly called out his Elf's name. "We need your help."

All the goings-on around him were beginning to feel like a vivid dream, even time had begun to elude him. He knew that Ron was sitting to his right, attentively listening to the smaller-than-usual Goblin sitting behind the large desk.

Blaise knew that he needed to focus, but the longer he sat in his comfortable chair, the more hopeless he began to feel. His mother was sharper than him, more dangerous than him… She had already locked his vault, and although he could still use his pouch; he could not move the majority of the gold to his private vault.

Why hadn't he moved the gold sooner?

He was a fucking moron… There was no other explanation.

Why had she allowed him to keep his pouch?

Because she was clearly insane. And she's a murderer.

"Blaise, are you awake?" Ron suddenly shook him, his expression stern. "Stop sulking, and listen to Bragnok." Bragnok? Oh, the Goblin.

Blaise sat up straighter, focusing his attention on the frowning Goblin.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Bragnok clicked his tongue, his sharp teeth clanking at the end. "Mr. Zabini, I'm afraid that Gringotts cannot help you. Your mother is our client as well, and the gold in your trust fund is in fact hers. As such, we cannot let you simply steal it. This goes against our conscience." What conscience? You Goblins are all the same. How much has she paid you to throw me under the bus-?

"Could I put money into his private vault?" Ron suddenly asked.

"Ron, no-" Blaise started.

"I'm only asking," Ron said quickly. "Just, be quiet, eh? So, Bragnok? If I put money into Blaise's vault, his mother can't touch that?"

"I don't see how she could," Bragnok replied simply. I'm not accepting his gold; he's already got so many expenses. I don't even know how he's paying for any of his projects, being a Chess Player can't pay that well.

"Can I ask another question?" Ron asked, and Bragnok gave a nod. "I thought Blaise's trust fund was his, so doesn't that mean that the gold inside should also be his."

"That gold has already been claimed, and we are with Miss. Zabini; may her late husband rest in peace," Bragnok said, causing the knife to twist. Rest in peace? I suppose he never knew what she was capable of, my letters never reached him.

It was over… Blaise finally understood that. His mother wasn't ignoring him; she had already cornered him with little effort. And now, she was waiting… She was letting him soak in the misery and dread he had created for himself by rebelling against her. Easter Break… She's waiting for me to come home…

Blaise rose up from his seat, he didn't want to be inside this building for another second.

"Thank you for your time," Blaise said, cutting into whatever Bragnok was saying. "Ron, let's go back to Hogwarts-"

"Blaise, wait a minute," Ron tried, but Blaise ignored him. I'm fucking dead, aren't I? She's going to kill me!

Before Blaise knew it, he was bending over just outside the office; his boring lunch had found its way back out.

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 27th February, 1994 (The Sanctuary – Evening)

"Depulso," Ron chanted calmly, thrusting out his right palm.

A wave of Magic struck the P-12, tipping it backwards onto its arse. Damn, he fell over, again! Ron drew in a deep breath, staring at the slouching P-12 with a mixture of pity and frustration. Feeling sorry for a dummy, Ron? Brilliant.

It was hard to focus right now, with Blaise sleeping not twenty feet away from him. Their visit to Gringotts had been a useless one. From what Ron could gather; Clementine had known what her son would attempt even before Blaise had moved to secure his gold. Being his parent gave her far too much power over him, and even Ron, who was mostly an outsider in the Zabini Family, could see that Blaise would never be free of his mother until he gave up his promised fortune. She knows what he wants, and he's in no position to make demands of her. She's killed how many people, now? Clearly, she has friends in powerful places, men that she has seduced into becoming her personal monkeys.

Blaise's fear had been palpable, so much so that Ron had started to worry over Blaise's upcoming decision as well. He's either with her, and therefore, under her control. Or, he starts distancing himself from her, which I'd personally prefer. Either way, I should let him decide. All I can do is offer him my help, right?

Ron walked past the P-12, deciding to check up on Blaise again. He's not doing so well, it took me ages to calm him down, after which he passed out. Should I send him back downstairs, tonight? I can sleep on the couches, and let Blaise have the bed. Ron stopped beside the large bed, scanning Blaise's peaceful face.

Blaise's eyes were swollen and agitated, not to mention that he had scratched himself on the cheek during his hysterical attempt to clean up his vomit. Beyond that, he looked like his usual self, just not as distant. Ron felt a great swell of pity fill his gut, only Merlin could tell what Blaise was going through. I know I have my own issues with my parents, but at least they don't go around murdering people for their wealth. Clementine Zabini is clearly a very twisted witch, and getting Blaise away from her should be a priority for me-

"Poor bastard, his time is coming up," came an all-too-familiar voice from behind Ron.

"His time?" Ron whispered, turning around.

"The big choice," Ravenclaw Ron replied, painting a circle with his finger. "The circle is nearly complete for your friend; he either evolves, or, he becomes a fossil."

"Blaise will be fine," Ron whispered, heading towards the sandpit once again.

"Are you so sure about that?" Ravenclaw Ron hummed, following after him. "From what I've seen, he doesn't have it in him to make it-"

"What would you know about him?" Ron felt the urge to demand. "Blaise is a good bloke, he sat me down and talked some sense into me when no one else would, not even Daphne… That's a real friend, in case you don't understand. He'll make it, I'll carry him if I have to."

"So much raw emotion," Ravenclaw Ron sighed out. "I take it that your control exercises are not progressing as planned?"

"I'm getting there…" Ron muttered, shooting a quick glance at the P-12. "Blaise has had a horrible day; he's allowed to rest and recover. When he wakes up, I'll be here to help him make his decision."

"Rebellion, then?" Ravenclaw Ron asked.

"What else?" Ron asked in response. "She is a murderer-"

"And you're not?" Ravenclaw Ron cut in. "Zabini seems to attract a certain sort, doesn't he?"

"I'm different from Clementine Zabini, and if you can't see that, then you're a cunt," Ron shot his past-self a frown. "Sure, I'm not ideal… But I'm better than nothing." Maybe… Even I'm not so sure, now.

"I say we don't get involved at all," Ravenclaw Ron shrugged, floating into the air. "Clementine Zabini strikes me as a very dangerous opponent, and given your recent scraps; I suggest-"

"Let me guess; I should abandon Blaise?" Ron asked, nearly scoffing. "Don't you get tired of singing the same old tune, huh? Betray him, kill them, torture her… Just give it a rest, I've already told you what I'm going to do. I'm going to help Blaise, one way or another."

"You think he's going to choose you," Ravenclaw Ron sniggered. "Haven't learned our lesson yet, have we?"

Ron felt his temper spike, his past-self was aiming for a sore-spot on purpose. Control, Ron, don't give him the satisfaction. He's trying to get to you, so he can berate you some more.

"I'll be more careful," Ron said simply, using his Aspen Wand to levitate the P-12 into position. "Now, mind giving me some quiet? I've nearly got control over my Wandless Depulso."

"Oh, show me," Ravenclaw Ron floated over to Ron's side. "Maybe this won't take as long as I had feared?"

"We'll see."

Saturday 27th February, 1994 (The Sanctuary – Before Dinner)

"Fifteen…" Ron groaned, falling on his chest and letting out a long groan. "I'm done… I can't do this last set… Fuck it…"

"Ah, so he can be stopped," Ravenclaw Ron laughed. "Go on, just five more? Get to twenty, at least."

"Fuck you, mate…" Ron grunted, blowing some sand into the air. "I'm just going to stay here until Blaise wakes up… He can help me onto the couch, yes…" My entire body is burning, I should find Madam Pomfrey so she can make me feel better with her Healing Magic. Madam Roberts did advise me to recover after training, so I don't hurt myself.

With very great effort, Ron groaned and moaned until he was on all fours, his arms and legs trembling slightly from overexertion. The pain… Totally worth it.

"Cunt…" Ron grit out, forcing himself to stand back up. Ah, there… Now, I just have to make it to the chairs. I can do that, I think.

"Is that word a source of inspiration, or, something?" Ravenclaw Ron cocked an eyebrow.

"What word? I was just talking to you?" Ron smirked at his past-self.

Ravenclaw Ron gave him a bland look, vanishing before Ron could say anything else. That upset him?

"Over here, 'cunt'," came Ravenclaw Ron's voice, he was hovering over the couches.

"That's my word…" Ron muttered under his breath, shaking his head. You can do this, Ron. Just take small steps.

Every step sent a fiery jolt up his body, and Ron relished in his hard work; shuffling all the way to the chairs before plopping down on his favourite one. My arse thanks you, mate.

"I've nearly got this Depulso thing down," Ron whispered to himself. "Tomorrow, I'll succeed, or, I'll keep at it until I do."

"Talking to yourself?" Ravenclaw Ron asked. "That's a sign of madness, you know?"

"Then, stop driving me mad," Ron shrugged, his eyes closing without his permission. Fuck it, a small nap won't hurt-

The door to the Sanctuary began to creak open, and Ron quickly pocketed his Aspen Wand in order to avoid questions about his shadier lifestyle. Who is it? And why would they come here so close to dinner? A part of Ron dreaded seeing Daphne again, their relationship had taken a few hits very recently, mostly because Daphne was busting his balls over Millicent. I bet that she hasn't even said a word to Millicent, and is just going after me because I'm less likely to start crying.

"Is anyone home?" Pansy asked, popping her head through the gap in the door. Pansy?

Ron felt the knot in his stomach unwind, followed quickly by a strong pang of guilt. After all Daphne's done for you, you have the gall to feel good about not seeing her? Fuck… That's a new low…

"Hmm? What's going on in here?" Pansy hummed, sliding through the gap and using her bum to reseal the entrance.

"Shhh," Ron hushed softly from his chair. "Blaise is sleeping, come over here."

Pansy shot a curious look towards the bed, a lecherous smile slowly gracing her face. Uh-oh, get the fuck out of here, Ron-

"You two wouldn't happen to be sharing that bed tonight, would you?" Pansy turned back to Ron, strutting over and planting herself on Ron's armrest. What's with her? She seems to be in a good mood. Strange, given that I just killed her parents.

"She wants something from you," Ravenclaw Ron studied Pansy's feature. "Strange smile… Didn't you just orphan this one?" Go away, please.

"You're in a good mood," Ron whispered, looking Pansy over. Why? I mean, she couldn't have hated her parents that much, right?

"Well, it's a good day, isn't it?" Pansy gave Ron a semi-confused look. "Lysander? Daphne told me, Ron!" Oh.

"Right," Ron began to smile. I should ask permission to go see him again, maybe spend a weekend with the Lovegoods, even.

"Are you okay?" Pansy asked. "How could you forget about Lysander?"

"I didn't forget…" Ron whispered, worrying about Blaise's situation once again. "I had… a long day."

Pansy narrowed her eyes slightly, looking back-and-forth between Ron and the bed. Should I tell her? Or, should I wake up Blaise? It's almost dinner time, isn't it?

"Just… Wait here, please," Ron groaned, standing up slowly.

"What's wrong?" Pansy asked immediately. "Ron?"

"I was training, muscles are sore," Ron replied. "It's fine." I overdid it, because I was stressing… I'm still making that same mistake.

"I missed out…" Pansy muttered dully, losing all interest in Ron's pain. Okay, then.

With small, careful steps, Ron returned to Blaise's side. Still sound asleep? He even slept through my training, not that I made much noise. Ron gave the sleeping wizard a gentle shake, which proved ineffective.

"Blaise," Ron whispered, shaking him again. "Wake up, mate."

Blaise's eyes drifted open, and for a few moments, he stared back at Ron rather lazily. But then, some sort of realization dawned on him, and Ron knew exactly what it was. Don't start panicking again, Blaise.

"Fuck…" Blaise muttered, turning his head into the pillow.

"Sorry," Ron felt the urge to apologize. "But it's almost dinnertime, and I figured that you should eat something-"

"I'm not hungry," came Blaise's muffled voice. "Just… Can I go back to sleep…?"

"Pansy's here," Ron told him.

"What?" Blaise sprang up, nearly spooking Ron. Easy… What the fuck?

"I didn't tell her anything," Ron whispered, shooting a look at Pansy, who was awkwardly waving at Blaise.

"Why is she here?" Blaise sat up; his furrowed brow fixed on the raven-haired witch.

"She wanted to talk about…" Ron paused. Don't make this about yourself. "She was looking for us, you know?"

"Why?" Blaise asked immediately. Just ask her yourself.

"I don't fucking know," Ron felt slightly annoyed. "Do I look like a Legilimens?"

Blaise looked back to Ron, a frown marring his handsome features.

"With you, who knows?" Blaise remarked. "Are you a Legilimens? You certainly seem to be a powerful Occlumens." Merlin, please help me.

"Do you want to eat? Or, not?" Ron asked, changing the subject. "I'm on your side, just in case you don't remember."

Blaise's frown died away after that, and he sat silently for a few more seconds. What's he thinking about?

"When you're ready, come over to the couches," Ron got up, noticing that his body was already on the mend. "I'll have Marty cook us something, all right?"

One Hour Later

"So, she really killed him…" Pansy muttered, she was as pale as a ghost. "Blaise, I'm really…" She looked towards Ron, who simply shook his head. "The rumours are really true, then?"

"Seems that way," Ron replied, Blaise had stopped talking a while ago; leaving Ron to explain the situation to Pansy and Marty.

"Lady Greengrass always warned the Elves to stay away from Lady Zabini," Marty remembered, a big bowl of chicken soup in his tiny lap.

"And she's claimed the gold in your vault, too?" Pansy asked Blaise, looking even more worried.

Blaise nodded quietly, focusing mostly on his food.

"You're helping him, aren't you?" Pansy quickly turned back to Ron.

"Trying my best," Ron replied. "But we don't have all that many options… She's his legal guardian, she is owed favours by a lot of people, clearly, which makes going up against her even more difficult." Ron drew in a sharp breath. "It's Blaise decision, though. He has to decide where to go next."

"Decide what?" Blaise looked up. "We tried, and we failed, Ron… I have to go and face the consequences, now. I don't think she'll do anything to hurt me, she might just slap me on the wrist and give me the cold shoulder for a while."

Ron felt his heart sink, but he kept his hurt hidden. He's just going to go back, then? After all that? Why not come live with me? It's safer, isn't it?

"Are you… Are you fucking mental?!" Pansy suddenly demanded, making Blaise flinch. What…? "Blaise, she is a murderer! And you're just going to go back to her, pretend like she didn't just kill someone?! Ron?! Tell him how stupid he sounds right now!" Uh…

"I thought Lord De Luca meant something to you," Ron said simply, deciding not to berate an already upset friend.

Blaise let out a shaky breath, his hands rubbing his temples. Is he going to go quiet again? Brilliant. They sat in silence for almost a minute, with Blaise rubbing away at his temples with his brow furrowed.

"I'm scared…" Blaise eventually admitted, somewhat regaining his composure. "She's dangerous, and I don't want to anger her."

"You're not alone," Pansy said quickly. "Blaise… I'm Lady Parkinson, now."

They all looked towards her, and Pansy sat up straighter on instinct.

"It's official," Pansy told them. "Yesterday, I was given all of my parents' vaults and businesses; even the Parkinson Elves will now start calling me 'Lady Parkinson'."

"Your mother?" Blaise asked. "What about her? She wasn't amongst the Carrow Twins' guests."

"No one can find her," Pansy replied, while Ron remained silent. Strange, that… How did Lucius Malfoy find her? It had to have been him, right? Or, maybe, even the Death-Eaters? What a loose end… Should I revisit that villa? No, that'd be stupid. What if they're waiting for me to come back? I suppose nothing can be done about her remains-

"Ron?" Blaise called.

"Yes?" Ron returned to the conversation.

"What do you think of Pansy's idea?" Blaise asked. Damn, I was somewhere else.

"I'm sorry… I'm struggling to focus," Ron apologized, giving Pansy a sheepish smile.

"It's okay," she gave him a sorry look. I'll take pity over anger these days. "I was just thinking that Blaise could come and live with me, he could help me with all the work I have to do as Lady Parkinson. In return for his work and company, he can stay with me." I already offered him a place, though… He doesn't remember that? No, of course, he does. I offered today as well.

"What do you think?" Ron asked Blaise, deciding not to assume anything. "And, what about your mother? What will she say?"

"It could work, it's definitely worth the shot," Blaise replied. Right…

Ron shifted a little in his spot, but thankfully, no one noticed his conflicted expression. Did Blaise even realize how ungrateful he was? He had called Ron a pauper to his face, and then, Blaise had asked Ron to help him save Lord De Luca, at the expense of exposing himself to a crazy bitch like Clementine Zabini. Ron, however, had kept offering help, despite Blaise's low opinion of The Burrow and the Weasleys. It was what good friends did, right? But he was willing to go back to his mother rather than live in my home…

Ron's gut twisted painfully, but he kept his mouth sealed. Don't be this way… You know that Blaise being safe is all that matters, don't you? It's his choice…

"Are you sure about this?" Ron asked Blaise. Still… What the fuck…?

"I'm sure," Blaise nodded. "I don't want to go back to her." Right… That's only the case if you have a nice, cosy manor to live in. I'm going back to training, not hungry anymore.

Hermione Granger's POV

Sunday 28th February, 1994 (The Black Lake – Midday)

Hermione had been eagerly expecting a private lesson from Ron, but clearly; the Slytherin had different ideas. He had invited his own friends, all of them, including a very withdrawn Bulstrode, down to the Black Lake. Even Ginny and Luna were here, no doubt because Ron had invited them as well.

Hermione was definitely disappointed, but she wasn't going to make a scene this time. No, she understood that everyone deserved to spend time with Ron, and that just because she was very eager to learn Wandless Magic without being bogged down by her less-than-intelligent school-mates; her need to excel didn't give her the right to question Ron's decision to teach others, especially after his kind offer to teach her at all. For free, no less. I have nothing to offer him, which… It's just not right! I have to pay him back somehow-

"Granger, stop dozing off," Nott suddenly nudged her, making her jump a little.

"Don't touch me, Nott," Hermione hissed, shooting an annoyed look at the overly-friendly Slytherin. I miss the times when he didn't even acknowledge me. Now, he's always trying to get under my skin. What does he want from me?

"Felt that good, did it?" Nott smirked. Ugh… "Seriously, though, stop dozing off; Ron will tear you a new one-"

"Oi!" came Ron's voice, freezing both Nott and Hermione in place.

They slowly looked back to the front, where Ron was explaining the importance of regular exercise to his sisters, Greengrass, and Parkinson.

"You don't want to learn Wandless Magic?" Ron asked Nott, who gave a sheepish grin in response. "Fuck off, then, please. I shouldn't have to raise my voice because of you two, just shut the fuck up for five minutes, and then, you two can flirt all you like." Oh… God…

Hermione's eyes suddenly found the sand beneath her feet, she hated being told off by a teacher. Wait… Ron's not a teacher, though! And I wasn't flirting! Nott was the one flirting! I think… Hermione frowned to herself, all the while being serenaded by Nott's immature sniggering. I need to move away from Nott, but I don't want to be near Greengrass either. She's not happy that I'm here, I can see it on her face.

"Oh, don't be so upset," Nott suddenly whispered. "He's not actually angry with you, he's just struggling to win Pansy over. She doesn't want to go running, you see? It'll make her 'too muscular' for any boyfriends." What? Just go away, Nott.

"Stop talking, or, you'll get us in trouble again," Hermione shushed the weedy Slytherin. I wish Harry and Neville were here, they'd send Nott on his way. Why didn't Ron invite them? Maybe I should go up to the Greenhouses and get Neville? He'd enjoy this, I think-

"This is getting boring," Nott sighed out, completely ignoring Hermione's request for silence. "I reckon I'll stretch and start running, Ron loves the enthusiastic approach. If you want him to notice you, I suggest you join me." Notice me?

"Why… Why would I want him to notice me?" Hermione asked, trying to be nonchalant. "What are you implying, Nott?"

Nott barely held back a laugh, which made Hermione's face heat up. He really is the worst of the lot! God!

"Just join me, you'll benefit from it," Nott said, looking towards his mates. "Blaise? Malfoy?"

"Shhh," Malfoy shushed. "Are you fucking mental? Keep your volume down." Even Malfoy is more tolerable than Nott… I can't believe it, but it's true.

"I reckon we should start on our own," Nott said to Zabini, who gave a curt nod. "C'mon, Granger. Come with us." No, I'll wait until Ginny and Luna are free. And Ron, of course… "Not coming, then?"

"No, thank you," Hermione said shortly, puffing up a little.

"Suit yourself," Nott shrugged, finally leaving her alone.

Hermione shot a quick glance at the three Slytherin boys, they were already stretching their arms and legs, all the while speculating about who would run the most laps today, aside from them and Ron. It finally dawned on Hermione that she was about to go running with a bunch of Slytherins, the very same Slytherins who used to look down at her until recently. She wasn't sure how she felt about this, but she was willing to look past it for the sake of learning more Magic and promoting House Unity.

"Ron, we're going to start running now, all right?" Nott called out, grabbing Hermione's attention.

"Oh, sure," Ron nodded, his lips quirking upwards. Nott was right?! Ron's completely over us interrupting him! "Don't tire yourself out too quickly, I want to run a lap with you, mate."

"As if I'd get tired," Nott smirked smugly, shooting Hermione a wink. Don't wink at me!

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her spot, she could sense Greengrass and Parkinson's eyes on her. It made her feel ten times more awkward and out of place.

"Granger, you're joining us, right?" Nott suddenly asked. He's put me on the spot, now… What did I do to you?

Hermione shot a quick glance at Ron, who was giving her a curious smile. Wait a second… This is good for me, isn't it? But good in what sense? Am I out to impress Ron? With Greengrass here? Not that they're together, anymore-

"Hermione?" Ginny cleared her throat. "Are you okay?" Say something, Hermione, before they all start thinking that you're dim!

"Yes… Yes!" Hermione's feet moved on their own, sending her towards Nott. "I've stretched, let's go." I haven't stretched…

"Hermione, hold on, we'll run the first lap together," Ron said, sounding genuinely eager to spend time with her. It worked?! Is Nott the Ron-whisperer?!

"Oh… Um… If that's what you want," Hermione stopped, deciding to actually stretch this time.

"See you in a bit, Granger," Nott said, heading off with his usual smirk in place. Right…Thanks…

Hermione couldn't help but wonder what Nott wanted from her, why else would he be helping her? It can't be good, knowing him. I should keep my guard up.

Ten Minutes Later

"Sorry to keep you waiting, but I had to get Pansy on board," Ron said, stopping right beside her. "You ready to go?"

"Yes," Hermione confirmed. "Have you stretched?"

"Eh, I'll be fine," Ron shrugged. "I've become very used to this, so I can skip stretching once in a while." That doesn't sound right to me, but I shouldn't correct him. That'd make me sound like a know-it-all.

"I hope I get that fit," Hermione said instead, smiling pleasantly.

"Maybe you will," Ron chuckled, bumping his shoulder against her.

He was heavy, and he nearly knocked her over, but Hermione could only snort and try to pay him back. It didn't work, but she didn't really want it to.

"How many laps do you usually run?" Hermione asked, feeling more relaxed than she had in months.

"I can do twenty, if I really pace myself," Ron replied. Oh, that's not going to happen. That's too much. "But don't worry, just for today, I'll stick with you. We'll start slow, and then, when you've got your blood pumping, we'll speed through a couple of laps."

"What about the others?" Hermione had to ask, shooting a glance back at Luna and Ginny. They're stretching, so I'm guessing they'll join us after a lap, or, so.

"They can join us later, or, go at their own pace," Ron replied. "I do want run a lap with my sisters, though. If you don't mind?"

"No, it'll be fun," Hermione agreed. "Let's go?"

Ron gestured her to follow him on his left, and then he set off without another word. Hermione quickly caught up with him, trying her to best to copy his form. Back straight, shoulders even, head forward… Okay, I can do this. It was a little awkward to adjust at first, but after a couple of minutes; she was finding it easier to stay by Ron's side.

"Did you recently buy those?" Ron asked, shooting a glance at her maroon tracksuit. "They look brand new to me."

"Oh, dad sent them to me," Hermione replied, trying her best to breathe through her nose. "He always says that if you want to do something, you have to do it right. I didn't own anything that I could run in, so I sent him an owl."

"Your father sounds like Lord Greengrass," Ron chuckled. "It's good that you got those, it's wretched to run in casual wear."

"What do you think of the colour?" Hermione asked, she was personally unsure of it. Dad thinks that Gryffindor is gold and maroon, not gold and scarlet. How did mum miss this as well? She's always so meticulous about everything.

"Personally, maroon isn't my favourite," Ron started. "However, it does look good on you." Pardon?

Hermione blinked at him, nearly tripping.

"It does?" Hermione asked, clearing her throat. Control yourself, woman!

"It suits you, Hermione," Ron said reassuringly, further brightening her mood. This day is really going in my favour! I think I'll skip studying, just for today. I'll spend my night with Harry, Neville, and Ginny.

"So… Are we going to do any Wandless Magic today?" Hermione asked, feeling more confident.

"I might, just to show off," Ron smirked. "But as for you lot, no."

"Why?" Hermione asked immediately.

"Because you could get hurt, like I repeatedly did," Ron explained. Oh, well, it's hard to argue against that… Damn. "First, you need to take care of your body, get into decent shape, you know? After that, you can start training your Wandless Magic. Trust me, it'll be easier this way."

"Whatever you say, Professor," Hermione said teasingly, she had to get the last word in. I can't help myself. My know-it-all personality is engrained into my brain.

"No one likes a smart-mouth, Hermione," Ron tutted, bright smile in place. "Now, focus on running, talking will leave you out of breath faster."

Sunday 28th February, 1994 (The Black Lake – Nearly Lunch)

She looked like a right mess; the wind had sent her already-unruly hair in all directions, making her look like she had been comically electrocuted. Most had found her appearance hilarious, but they weren't mean about it. Greengrass and Parkinson, on the other hand, were a different story. Any time she met their gaze, they were quick to show her their displeasure.

Hermione couldn't have cared less, however.

She was with her friends, old and new, and they were all working their bums off to improve. She hadn't felt such a sense of comradery before, mostly because Neville and Harry weren't very eager to study, but now, Hermione knew what it felt like to be a part of a group. Maybe I should spend more time with others at the study group? Instead of just sitting by myself every time?

Hermione looked over to Ron with a curious look, wondering if he would help mingle with the rest of her peers. Should I really ask him for help? He's already done so much for me. Ron noticed her staring, and he shot her a quick smile.

"Good work today, Hermione," Ron praised, putting another smile on Hermione's face.

"Really? I only ran four…" Hermione said, feeling a little embarrassed. Even Luna ran more than me. I'm really out of shape, aren't I? Wait… Have I studied too much? This can't be-

"You all right?" Ron asked. "You look… surprised?"

"I think I've spent too much time studying," Hermione whispered, shooting a quick glance at the others.

Ron let out a chuckle, which he quickly suppressed when Hermione began to frown. Don't laugh at me, I'm being serious.

"Sorry…" Ron cleared his throat. "Shouldn't laugh, this is clearly a problem that needs fixing."

"Exactly," Hermione said, trying to mimic Nott's smirk. "So, how do we go about fixing it?"

"You join me every single morning," Ron replied straight away. What…? Every single morning…? That's a lot of running… "We all start around six, sharp. Don't be late, no one will wait for you in the cold. Understood?" I want to say no, but I can't.

"Understood," Hermione agreed, feeling a tense knot in her stomach. Can I really run every single morning? I'm usually very tired in the mornings, on account of staying awake late for my studies.

"Don't worry, it'll get much easier," Ron promised, sensing her reluctance. "Draco was a complete bitch about it early on-"

"Stop using my name, Weasley," came Malfoy's voice, but Ron ignored it with a smile. They're like an old married couple, they spent the whole afternoon bickering about absolutely nothing. And they're so mean to each other, Ron really needs to keep his language in check-

"Hermione, are you even listening?" Ron poked her arm.

"Don't, I'm sore…" Hermione whined, though she didn't mind whatsoever.

"Don't ignore me, then," Ron sniggered. "Anyway, will you come tomorrow morning? Are you sure?" Am I?

"Of course," Hermione agreed, deciding to work harder instead of backing down. It's just some running, Hermione. Read up on it, find a proper form and things will get easier. It's exactly like any other assignment.

"Brilliant," Ron beamed. "You won't regret this; it'll speed up your Wandless Magic training by loads!" Why does he sound more excited about me learning Wandless Magic than I do? "Oh, and bring those two lazy cunts, please. I sent them both an invite, but neither of them showed up." Neville and Harry? Don't call them that, please.

"You invited them as well?" Hermione blinked.

"Well, I sent a couple of Gryffindor first years, but yeah, I invited them," Ron nodded. Gryffindor first years? He's really won all the younger students over, hasn't he? They'll do whatever he asks.

"Harry has Quidditch training, Wood has been pushing them all really hard," Hermione told Ron. "And Neville…? Actually, I don't know where he is. Probably the Greenhouses, he likes to work with Professor Sprout on the weekends."

"Bring them tomorrow," Ron said, his tone was very… commanding. "And tell them that if they don't come with you, I'll have them taken from their beds." Huh?

"What…?" Hermione went a little pale.

"That was a joke," Ron smiled. "But seriously, I will break into Gryffindor Tower if I have to." For some reason, I really believe that.

"I'll tell them," Hermione promised. I guess we'll all be spending a lot more time with the Slytherins.

Hermione couldn't help but wonder if this was Ron's real intention, to force people to cooperate until they learnt to get along. You know, maybe that's not such a bad idea. Nott's been… nice… to me, today, while Zabini and Malfoy weren't outright rude about anything. It's only Parkinson and Greengrass who have a problem with me, and I don't even know what I did.

Hermione slowly looked towards Bulstrode, who was quietly getting ready to leave without the others. And what's the matter with her? She looks really down about something, and no one is bringing it up. I don't think anyone aside from Greengrass and Parkinson spoke to her.

Something was definitely up with the Slytherins, and Hermione wondered if she and her best friends were about to become embroiled in their troubles. For now, we should just try to get along with them, I really don't want Ron to get upset with me again. I'll speak to Harry and Neville, and get them on board. This could be good for all of us, I think.

Ronald Weasley's POV

Sunday 28th February, 1994 (Abandoned Classroom – After Lunch)

"Honestly, the chances of us losing the House Cup are next to nil," Hughes told the other delegates, while Ron sat quietly at the head of the table. I wish I had a chair closer to the door, this is the most boring fucking thing I've endured in a long time. They're acting like any of this actually matters… Like it will set them up for life, or, something. They're so naïve. No one cares about what House you're from out there, no one cares about anything but self-interest. Do they even understand just how rigged everything is within the Wizarding World? Most of them won't get anywhere in life simply because they don't know the right people… It's fucked.

"What are Gryffindor's chances of defeating Hufflepuff, Weasley?" Atif asked. "If Gryffindor wins, it'll be better for us. They're so far behind, it won't even make a difference-"

"You want them prancing around the castle with the Quidditch Cup?" Martha Hopkirk frowned. "At least the Hufflepuffs won't act like smug pricks-"

"Are you so sure about that?" Septimus Smith interjected. I miss Emilia. Hell, I even miss Artyom, that stone-faced mountain of muscle. Actually, I miss everything that isn't this shite.

Ron shot a subtle glance towards Carey again, noticing that she was still having a staring competition with the desk. It's because I'm here. A strong pang of guilt broke the monotony, but only for a moment before Ron was pulled back into the 'conversation'.

"Well, Weasley? Could Gryffindor defeat Hufflepuff?" Atif asked. I don't know, I can't see the future. Wait… Fuck!

"Does it even matter?" Ron asked, getting his head back in the game. "I mean, who cares about the Quidditch Cup? Slytherin is out of that race, thanks to our brilliant Quidditch Captain." That ugly cunt. "Our focus should be on the Duelling Tournament and our classwork, that's how we'll win."

"But the Quidditch Cup nets a lot of Points-?" Maria Cortez started.

"You're wasting time and effort thinking about things that don't matter," Ron cut in. "The Quidditch Cup will go to whichever House wins it, fair and square. As long as Slytherin wins the House Cup, I can live with the Gryffindors having a successful Quidditch year. To me, it sounds like you lot are more concerned with making sure that no one else succeeds at anything, rather than actually succeeding yourselves. Stop focusing on Quidditch, we literally have no business worrying about the Quidditch Cup anymore."

"Usually, we discuss these things, instead of one person calling all the shots," Clara finally spoke up, her expression indifferent. Did Professor Snape give her the good news?

"You all discuss things a little too much," Ron countered. "There is nothing to be gained from stressing over who wins the Quidditch Cup, and as such, there is no need for a discussion. You already know what needs to be done, so…" Ron trailed off, looking towards the door.

"We can leave?" Pansy asked, she had clearly not enjoyed her first delegate meeting.

"Yes, you can leave," Ron replied, deciding to meditate until dinner. "Make sure the first years don't become complacent, especially Tori and Lysandra."

"Sure, Ron," Blaise said, being the first to get up. "See you at dinner?" I'd rather eat alone, thank you.

Ron shook his head; solitude would definitely be a welcome change. He wanted to sit down and think, to plan for what was to come. The Werewolves still needed him, as did Priscilla and her friends. Ron would continue to provide for them, but now that they had roofs over their heads and relatively bright futures ahead of them; Ron found himself with plenty of spare time on his hands. I won't be running around Magical Britain anymore, at least not for a while, I hope. It's been a struggle over the last few months, but I think the worst is behind me. I just have to save Tracey, now; that's all that matters.

The delegates left one-by-one, most of them looked relieved to be on their way, including Daphne. Ron said nothing, silently coming to terms with their new dynamic. Until Millicent makes her choice, I don't think Daphne's going to let up. She'll keep pushing my buttons until I give her whatever she wants, it's a favourite tactic of hers. I wonder how she would react if I told her about the plan to bring back Tracey. Maybe she'll stop giving me this attitude?

He hadn't told any of his friends about Tracey, nor was he going to…

He couldn't bring himself to take such a risk, especially now that he understood just how much his friends loved their comfort. They weren't hard workers, nor were they honest. And telling them about his plans was as good as handing ammunition to his enemies; their fucking parents… In many ways, his friends were nothing like him, and yet, they had gravitated towards him. Oh, wait… They were running away from Draco, who was a cunt right from the start. You were the lesser of two shit situations… Congratulations, Ron.

Again, Ron said nothing, pushing his negative feelings down and chastising himself for getting distracted because Daphne was hurting his feelings. Man up, Ron… You can't let something this small hinder you. You are a man, aren't you?

"You're not all there, are you?" came Samantha's voice, and Ron suddenly realized that she had remained behind.

Alone…

"Do you need something from me, Samantha?" Ron asked. I need to wake up, that meeting turned my brain off.

Samantha didn't respond, instead focusing on studying Ron's face. What is she doing?

"Yes, I'm not exactly easy on the eyes," Ron quipped. "Now, what do you want? Why are you still here?"

"You really are dying, aren't you?" Samantha asked, her expression indifferent. "I wasn't convinced at first, but Clara and Carey were sold right from the jump. Clara, especially. In hindsight, though, I suppose it's always been obvious. Your seizures, your frequent trips to Madam Pomfrey's Office, your coma, and now, even the way you look… Always pale and sickly, as if you haven't slept in days." Is she just insulting me? Is that what's happening right now?

"Does it make you happy?" Ron asked, mostly out of curiosity. "To know that I'll be dead soon?"

"It does," Samantha replied, her tone becoming colder. Right… "What you did to Carey… You deserve to burn in hell for that."

As much as her words stung; Ron knew that he had earned them. They love each other, a little too much, even… And I nearly killed one of them because I was out of my fucking mind with stress and fear. Fucking Entity… What the fuck did I do to deserve this life…?

"Fair enough," Ron nodded to himself.

"Did you speak to Crouch Snr on Clara's behalf?" Samantha asked outright. Oh… Now, I get it. They don't want my help, just like Charlie.

"I did," Ron admitted. "But before she rejects the offer, just tell her that I won't be anywhere near her-"

"Clara's already sent an owl to Crouch," Samantha cut in. "She wants the job, it's a golden opportunity that she can't miss. Any seventh year with a hint of common sense would kill to be in her shoes right now." Really? That's brilliant, one less thing to worry about.

"So… What's this about, then?" Ron asked.

"Professor Snape didn't mention your involvement, and we were curious, given your history with Crouch's Department," Samantha replied, Ron couldn't help but notice her immaculate posture. She's a bit tense, isn't she? That's all right, I'll just ignore it so she doesn't feel threatened.

"Well, since I sated your curiosity," Ron started. "Why don't you sate mine? Why did you stay behind? Alone, no less. Was it just to talk about Clara's new job offer, and my part in it?"

Samantha inhaled deeply, her back becoming even straighter than before. Merlin, she's a tall witch, I keep forgetting that.

"The seventh years don't want your training," Samantha told him. "We all find it quite insulting that you're treating us, the eldest students within Slytherin, as if we're toddlers. Shoving us into one room and scolding us until we cooperate… It's wretched, and it's demeaning."

Ron processed her words, though they didn't really register with him. He was training them for their own good, and considering their plans to win the Duelling Tournaments; training was obvious. Weird, most of the seventh years don't seem to mind me too much, especially now that I'm more famous than ever. Even the sixth years didn't act up yesterday. It's just a couple of apples that are rotten, not the entire lot.

Was there another reason for this odd request? Carey… Duelling against her, even if it's just training; it could upset her even more. She barely made a sound during the meeting, and she was always staring at the table whenever I looked her way. Fucking fuck…

Feeling even more like shit left out to bake; Ron decided to agree with Samantha's foresight. He had no business being near Carey, and Duelling her was such a stupid idea in hindsight. Carey, Clara, and Samantha are talented witches; they can even cast the Undetectable Extension Charm, a Spell that I haven't managed to pull off no matter how hard I've tried.

"Would you three teach what you know to the other seventh years?" Ron asked. "I take it that you three are the best amongst that lot, right?"

Samantha looked slightly surprised by Ron's sudden agreement, but she was quick to school her features. Good job, Lady Selwyn. Don't show me that you can be surprised so easily, it makes you look weak-minded.

"I'll lead the sessions personally, but only if you agree to stop pushing your will onto the seventh years-" Samantha started, reaching for more.

"You get your training sessions, nothing else," Ron stopped her. "Deal?"

Samantha's lips thinned into a frown, but eventually, she gave a curt nod. Before Ron could dismiss her, she stood up on her own accord; leaving without sparing Ron another glance. Hopefully, this doesn't come back to haunt me. I need the seventh years in the Rank A Tournament to defeat some of the competition. I'd rather not risk facing too many challenges, not unless necessary.

Ron drew in another deep breath; cutting himself off from the world and turning inwards, seeking his own Magic. I'll practise sensing Magic until dinner, then Marty and I can eat and talk. Plus, I need to give my body a day to rest, I'm still sore from yesterday, and today's running didn't help whatsoever.

Ron wondered about seeking Madam Pomfrey's help, but in the end, he decided against it. She'd make him sit down for a chat, and he wasn't really in the mood to talk about his feelings today. He had spent the entire day walking around like a clown, smiling and grinning at everyone. Now, he just wanted to be alone. And if I can't train my body, then I'll have to train my Magic. It's just that simple. No need to involve Madam Pomfrey, or, anyone else.

Harry Potter's POV

Sunday 28th February, 1994 (Defence Classroom – Evening)

"Expecto Patronum!" Harry chanted, trying his best to focus on his mother's voice.

He didn't even know what they sounded like, his parents, but just imagining them having a simple conversation with him yielded the best results for this particular Spell.

Unfortunately, Harry was not at the top of his game today; his mind was too occupied with the secrecy that constantly surrounded him. His wand managed to produce a pitiful, silvery mist, which quickly sunk to the floor and dissipated before his very eyes. Not again…

Harry let out a frustrated groan, he was starting to get irked.

"Is everything all right, Harry?" Remus asked, looking concerned as always. No, I'm being taught by a liar! If I had a competent teacher, I'd get this fucking Spell!

Harry turned his head and cracked his neck, grinding his teeth.

"I'm fine…" Harry grumbled. "I'm going to try again."

"Maybe you should take a break?" Remus suggested.

"Maybe you should leave," Harry hissed, surprising Remus. "You keep talking and talking, while I'm trying to fucking focus!" Why are you all so keen to keep me in the dark? Are you plotting against me? Is that it?!

"Harry…" Remus muttered, his face slack-jawed. "Son… What's wrong?" Son?

Harry tightened his grip on his wand, stubbornly refusing to even acknowledge Remus' presence. I don't care about you being a Werewolf, but you clearly think that I would, whereas you trust Ron completely, that redhaired-

"Harry, look at me," Remus said, his voice sterner. "Explain yourself, young man. What is the meaning of this? You don't speak to other people that way, Harry-"

"You're a liar!" Harry turned and snapped, making Remus flinch from surprise. "I figured it out, Remus! I know the truth!"

Remus looked lost for a moment, but then, horror began to dawn on his face.

"I… Harry-" Remus started; his eyes kept widening.

"I don't care about you being a Werewolf, Remus, it doesn't bother me in the slightest," Harry had to tell him, this had festered in him for too long. "But what does bother me is that you didn't tell me. You didn't even mention it, ever! Why?!" Harry drew in a shaky breath, there was cold sweat running down his back. "What did you think I was going to do?" Run away from you? Not accept you? What stopped you from telling me? And, how long has Ron known about this?"

"Harry, stop…" Remus muttered once again, slowly dropping onto the seat behind him. "Just… Give me a moment…"

He looked pale, and old… Far too old for a man his age. The sight pulled Harry back, but not completely. His anger had torn its way out of him, leaving behind an empty space to be filled. Perhaps the truth could fill that space, and finally put an end to his restlessness?

"Just tell me the truth…" Harry said, barely keep his voice steady. "Are you a Werewolf?"

Remus hesitated for a moment.

"Yes…" Remus confessed. "I'm certain that, by now, most of the students are onto me… It's not surprising that you'd catch on, Harry. You're as bright as your mother-"

"Don't bring up my parents," Harry wasn't going to be fooled so easily. "Don't change the subject-"

"I'm not," Remus promised calmingly. "I'll tell you everything, sit down."

"You won't leave anything out?" Harry asked, and Remus shook his head. "Okay… Good. That's all I wanted…"

Guilt began to creep in, he hadn't spoken to Remus like that before. Actually, he had never spoken to any adult like that before, not even Snape. You can apologize later, don't waste this chance to finally learn about what's going on.

Harry sat down across from Remus; their eyes locked.

"Go on," Harry said, ready to listen. "How old were you when you were bitten?"

Sunday 28th February, 1994 (Defence Classroom – Nearly Dinner)

"You almost killed Snape," Harry couldn't believe it, Remus had opened up a lot more than Harry had expected.

"Professor Snape, Harry," Remus sighed out, looking gaunt. "And yes, I almost killed him, which is also the reason why he despises me so much."

"It wasn't your fault, though," Harry shifted forward in his seat. "Sirius was completely out of line, downright mental, even… God, he could've ruined your life, Remus." Not that you got much of a life, from what you just told me. Always moving around, being alone all the time… I don't know how he managed to stay sane. Without Neville and Hermione, I'd go insane.

"I didn't forgive him for a long time, but his life wasn't exactly ideal, either," Remus said. "I think Sirius turned out the way he did because of his overbearing parents, their punishments only fanned the fire in him. Every year, he did something more outrageous than the year before." Remus then drew in a long breath, something that he was doing quite often. He must be tired from his transformation. "Your father, as much as I love him, did very little to stop Sirius' behaviour; he even encouraged it-"

"That can't be right," Harry shook his head. "My dad wouldn't do that; everyone is always telling me about how noble he was. He would never egg Sirius on."

"James was noble," Remus agreed. "But not always, not until seventh year, when he suddenly began taking things a lot more seriously. He began reading the news daily, stopped fooling around with us, he even became Head Boy, by apparently convincing the Headmaster to give him the role, despite not being a Prefect. We had no idea what had gotten into him, but personally, I liked the change. Your mother did too, of course. His maturity finally got him his wish, and they began dating"

"What about Sirius?" Harry asked. Probably not.

"He confronted your father one day, and James just started listing all the names of the former Gryffindors who had perished so far in the Great War," Remus said, sounding rather proud. Really? That's brilliant. "Sirius sulked around after that for a while, but he eventually came back and understood why James was taking his life more seriously."

"He wanted to fight, didn't he?" Harry asked. That sounds more like my dad.

"We all followed him into the Order, and then, we fought…" Remus said, his eyes becoming dull once again. "We fought for a long time…"

An uncomfortable silence filled the room, and Harry could do little but stare at his haunted foster-father. Only God knew what kinds of horror Remus had seen, and now that Harry had gotten some answers, he found himself unable to remain upset with Remus. Mostly, Harry just wanted Remus to know that he would always love the love, and nothing could change that. I've never really spoken to anyone like that, though… It seems awkward and forced…

"Remus, I'm sorry for yelling at you…" Harry decided to apologize, maybe that was enough? "I just… I feel like you're all lying to me, hiding important information from me. Why can't anyone just tell me about what's going on? Voldemort wants me, doesn't he? So, shouldn't I be kept in the loop?"

"Harry, you are thirteen-" Remus started.

"So is Ron!" Harry tried. "He has his fingers in everything! I just want a chance, Remus… Is that too much to ask?" This is so unfair!

"No… I suppose, it isn't," Remus rubbed his forehead. Huh? It worked? It was that easy? "But before I decide on what to share with you, I have to bring this up… Ron." Oh… "You're not thinking about anything-"

"No, I'm not going to bother him," Harry promised. "I only brought him up because…" Because you and Sirius look happier with him than you do with me. I don't get it, why am I treated differently? Is it because Ron's sick? Or, because he's forced himself onto the adult table?

Maybe following Ron's lead wasn't such a silly idea? No… I really don't like the way he behaves; I swear that he's always fighting with someone. He's a good bloke, but he has a serious problem with his temper.

"Harry, if you want me to share things with you, then you have to share things with me," Remus said encouragingly. "What's bothering you?"

Harry shifted in his spot, feeling ridiculously nervous as he drummed up the courage to air his grievances. Just say it, Harry, or, it'll never change. They'll keep pushing you aside whenever Ron's in the room.

"Do you and Sirius prefer Ron over me?" Harry all but whispered, but being a Werewolf had its perks, because Remus clearly heard him.

"Harry…" Remus said softly, giving him an odd smile. "Sirius and I have sworn to raise you as our own, and there isn't a single person who comes before you in our eyes. Now, Ron is… special… He's done a lot for us, all three of us." Harry nodded; he couldn't deny that anymore. "In a way, he's also a part of our family, but that doesn't mean that he is more valued and loved than you. Sirius and I can both agree that we've never cared for anyone as much as we care about you. You mean the world to us both, Harry. You're hope itself!" Hope?

Harry kept shifting in his spot, his eyes stinging painfully because of how out-of-his-element he was. No one had ever uttered such a meaningful thing in his direction before, and certainly no adult, but as he continued to listen to Remus' accounts of how Harry's survival had saved him from despair; Harry knew that he was hearing the truth.

It felt as though a weight had been lifted from his chest, and that he could finally breathe. He could finally stop feeling like was being put in second place. Remus noticed Harry's silence, and he was quick to move forward and kneel in front of Harry.

"You're not alone, Harry," Remus said paternally, putting one hand on Harry's thin shoulder. "And you are more loved than you can imagine. I swear it on my life." What do I say to that…?

Harry scooted forward and put his arms around Remus' neck, hugging him tightly. I believe you. Remus simply chuckled and hugged back, patting Harry's back firmly.

"You don't have to compare yourself to anyone, Harry," Remus said. "You are who you are, and all I see is a brave young wizard who will face any challenge that the world may throw at him. Keep striving to be the best you, Harry; I know that's what James and Lily wanted for you." Keep striving to be the best me?

"I… I think I'm ready to try again," Harry croaked, quickly clearing his throat.

"Really?" Remus pulled back, looking a lot more at ease. "Well, if you're certain, then who am I to stop you?"

"Exactly," Harry tried to smile, making Remus laugh.

"Go on, I know you can do it," Remus stepped back, giving Harry room to stand and position himself. I can do this, just think of your happiest memory, Harry.

He didn't have to look very hard; he knew that he had created a powerful memory today. 'You're not alone, Harry, and you are more loved than you can imagine'. Remus really meant those words!

Harry cleared his throat again, preparing his wand and recalling his happiness from earlier. Memory by memory, Harry strengthened himself. He recalled Sirius adopting him, he recalled Ron and Sirius breaking into the Dursleys' home in order to rescue him, and finally, he recalled the lazy days he had spent with Neville and Hermione during the Summer Break. I'm ready, it has to work this time!

"Expecto Patronum!" Harry chanted, making a clean circular motion with his wand.

He felt the Magic pour out of his wand immediately, and it was so overwhelming that Harry nearly lost control over his wand. Bloody hell, Remus didn't mention anything about this! What do I do, now?!

"Yes! Brilliant, Harry!" Remus was shouting, but Harry could barely hear anything over the loud hum emanating from the thick, silvery mist he was conjuring. "Keep a hold on that wand! It's always hard to channel that much Magic the first time around!" What?!

Through the silvery mist, Harry saw two large antlers rear themselves, which elicited an enthusiastic gasp from Remus. What is it?! Harry braced himself out of instinct, not backing away from the barely visible threat. Just hold onto your wand, Harry, keep it steady!

His wand shook a couple more times, and then suddenly, he felt it become perfectly still. The mist poured out evenly, giving form to a beautiful, large stag. I'm doing it! I'm really doing it! Wasn't dad's Patronus a stag as well?! Remus said so himself!

"Remus, look!" Harry looked back excitedly, his face splitting into a wide smile.

"Harry, don't lose focus," Remus said quickly, gesturing him to face the bright-silver and almost-translucent creature.

Harry quickly looked back ahead, gripping his wand even more tightly. The stag took small, regal steps around the room; lazily eyeing the tables and chairs around it. Once it was standing in front of Harry, it shook its head and presented its antlers to Harry.

"Harry, you can lower your wand," Remus whispered, and Harry did as he was told.

"What do I do?" Harry asked, keeping his eyes fixed on the stag. It's so beautiful, but also really intimidating. I didn't think that stags were that big… I have to crane my neck just to look into its eyes.

"Trust yourself," Remus replied, not fully answering the question. "Don't be frightened, Harry. The stag is you, in a way, and it will never hurt you." This stag is me?

"It's my Spirit Guardian," Harry remembered from his earlier lessons. "I can command it, can't I?"

"Try," Remus encouraged. Okay… Come closer, so I can touch you.

Much to Harry's surprise, and excitement, the stag took a tentative step forward, lowering its head until Harry could reach it. His fingers slowly reached up and stroked the ghostly stag's head; it felt strangely powerful and concrete, despite its appearance.

"It feels almost real, but like I'm touching solid air…" Harry described, feeling his heart beating in his throat.

The beating got louder and louder, until Harry couldn't ignore it anymore. His vision blurred momentarily, and all of a sudden; Harry began to feel drained of his strength.

"Remus… Something's wrong," Harry pulled his hand back, noticing that the stag was beginning to dissipate. "What's going on? It's leaving?!"

Harry tried to reach for its head again, childishly hoping to pet it one more time before it vanished, but in his haste; he almost tripped over his own feet.

"Careful, Harry!" Remus was quick to grab Harry by the arm, steadying him and pulling him closer. "It's okay, you're just tired. Come, let me help you into a chair."

Harry didn't argue, he mostly kept his focus on the stag, feeling oddly upset when it fully vanished from sight. That was amazing, but it left so quickly. Did I make a mistake somewhere?

"Here, chocolate," Remus pulled out a chocolate bar from his robes. "Eat it, please."

"Thanks…" Harry took the treat, lethargically removing the wrapping. "Remus, does it always leave so quickly?"

"No, but since this is the first time you've successfully cast the Charm, it's not surprising that you couldn't maintain it," Remus replied, an excited glint in his eyes. "Merlin, a Corporeal Patronus at thirteen… Sirius won't believe this!" I actually managed to cast the Patronus Charm; I can't believe it.

"It was a stag," Harry said, smiling proudly. "Did you see, Remus? Was it just like my dad's?"

Remus' smile widened at that, and he reached forward and ruffled Harry's hair.

"Just like James'," Remus nodded. "You're so much like him, Harry. It took James a long time to find his maturity, but you… I think you have Lily's mind, but your father's heart. You're the best of both of them."

"Really?" Harry asked, taking a bite of his chocolate.

"Really," Remus promised. "Now, I don't know about you, but I'm too knackered to head down to the Great Hall. Why don't we eat here? Together?"

"I'd like that," Harry agreed. "And you'll tell me more about Werewolves? You mentioned a man named Thaddeus? He's the one who helped you and Ron gather so many Werewolves, isn't he?"

Remus never looked so carefree around Harry.

"I'll tell you all about Thaddeus," Remus stood up. "After I get some food organized for us. Eat that chocolate, all right? I'll be back in a few minutes."

Harry took another bite, glad that he had confronted Remus directly instead of asking Hermione for her help. That could've gone bad, I can see that, now. Harry quietly watched as Remus left the room, and once he was alone; his mind drifted towards his parents. I wonder how they'd react to me casting the Patronus. I bet dad would tell all of his friends because he'd be so proud. And mum, she would bake me a cake, just like Dudley used to get one whenever he didn't fail a class.

Harry let his mind keep wandering, deciding that any good feeling he could conjure up would only make him a stronger wizard. After all, the Patronus Charm was one the most difficult Charms to learn, and his love for Remus, Sirius, Neville, Hermione, and his parents had helped him bring forth a Corporeal Patronus at the tender age of thirteen. Dumbledore is right, love must really play a part into what kind of wizard one turns out to be. That's why Voldemort turned out the way he did, Dumbledore mentioned that he laughs at the idea of love. His loss, then. Dumbledore has to be right, he's the stronger wizard, after all.

Millicent Bulstrode's POV

Monday 1st March, 1994 (The Black Lake – Before Sunrise)

She was freezing, and she could barely see where she was stepping, but this was for the best.

This way, she couldn't get in anyone's way, nor could she further spoil everyone's mood by existing.

From the day Ron had returned to Hogwarts, Millie had been living with an unbelievable amount of guilt. He was different, every single person who had spoken to him had realized that much very quickly. He barely ever made an appearance for meals, he stayed far away from the common room, he rarely answered any questions in class, and whenever he did speak to his 'friends', it was only out of necessity.

Ron had become even more withdrawn, and Millie couldn't help but wonder if she had played a part in that. Probably, betrayal is a sore-spot for him, and I did exactly that… I betrayed my friends. All of them.

She stretched her legs absentmindedly, thinking of everything she had thrown away from her Family's sake. Her friends, her happiness, her morals… She had even lost Ron's trust, something that had meant the world to her. To know that Ron trusted her to watch his back, that he didn't underestimate her like so many other; it had given Millie the strength she needed to face her own shortcomings.

Ron had always pushed her to be better, always offering his hand whenever she started to stumble, and how had she repaid him? I did the one thing he would truly come to hate me for, I choose myself over those who were being sold into slavery…

"Stupid…" Millie muttered to herself; scolding herself constantly had become a habit. "Always so stupid…"

Her grades were slipping, every assignment was beginning to feel harder than the last. Even her ever-increasing skills in Duelling had suddenly stagnated, no doubt due to the constant stress she was under. She found that she couldn't focus, and that whenever Ron was near; her brain turned to jelly out sheer nerves.

He hadn't said anything to her, of course, but he didn't need to. Millie knew her place within the group already, and it was right at the bottom, with Crabbe and Goyle; Ron's latest projects.

Oh, and Ron wasn't the only one who was ignoring her, the other three boys had quickly decided to take Ron's side, and although they had every right to do that; it still hurt Millie to know that they didn't even care about how impossible her situation was. They simply wanted to appease Ron, because if Ron wasn't happy; then he'd make damn sure that no one else was either.

Feeling lonelier than ever, and even somewhat bitter towards her male friends; Millie started her running prematurely. I have to finish before the others get here. Before Ron gets here… I can't take it anymore; I ruin everyone's mood by just hovering around. I know Daphne and Pansy want me to keep fighting, but I just can't… I don't belong with the group anymore, and we all know it.

Nearly Six 'o'clock

The run had been wretched, to say the least.

At first, she had to use her wand to light her path, though that had still proven to be ineffective with her distracted mind. She had tripped, twisted her ankle a couple of times, and had stepped on uneven ground more times than she could count. By the time there was some sunlight to help her, she had felt the need to rush through her last few laps before Ron came over with the others.

She had managed to finish, but unlike before; she didn't feel healthier thanks to her run. She just felt more exhausted, and her ankles were now murdering her. Everything feels off, now. I really hope this isn't my new normal… I don't want to spend the rest of my schooling days alone.

Millie winced as she pulled off her right shoe, massaging her throbbing ankle with her hands. Maybe I should run in the afternoon, instead? It doesn't have to be a 'morning run', you know?

"Tsk…" Millie clicked her tongue. "I'm an idiot… Why did I come here so early? I couldn't even see anything." Am I having a conversation with myself?

Millie closed her eyes and massaged her ankle more firmly, wondering about how she'd spend her day. It was Ron's birthday today, and the fact that she couldn't celebrate it tore at her horribly, despite all that had happened. Even the thought of her friends celebrating without her was enough to gut her, but she knew that she couldn't do anything about it.

She had dug this hole for herself, after all, and it was very deep. I should get out of here, it's almost time for-

Millie's thoughts stopped abruptly; a large shadow had suddenly been cast over her; blocking the sun from warming her frozen skin. The shadow grew and grew, until it fully began to resemble a very familiar build. Tall, and broad… Oh, no… Slowly, after putting her shoe back on; Millie turned to look up the hill. There was a dark figure standing not far above her; the sun hitting his back and making it impossible to determine the wizard's identity.

But Millie knew who it was already, and as she stared up at the figure; he stared back down at her. Ron… I took too long, and now; he's here. She felt her body shrink by itself, while her gut tightened as it always did around him, now. As if she was waiting for him to snap and unleash his anger on her, and by Merlin; Ron's temper frightened her more than most things. He's the sort to break your leg, simply because Madam Pomfrey can 'fix it up' in a heartbeat… I never really gave it any thought, but now that he's not happy with me; I keep thinking that he's going to lash out against me, eventually. And I can't even defend myself. How do I even compete with someone like him? It's impossible.

The figure began moving, taking slow and methodical steps down towards her. What do I do? I should go… Yes, I should go right now. Millie swallowed thickly, and with what little courage she could muster; she began making her way towards the figure.

As she got closer and closer to Ron, his expression became easier to make out. Indifference… Again… I don't know why I thought it'd be different, today. For a brief moment, she thought about wishing him well for his birthday, but at the last second; she hesitated. What if he gets angry with me for speaking to him?

Feeling unsure of herself, Millie simply kept walking, until Ron suddenly grabbed her arm; forcefully stopping her in place. Millie's heart jumped into her throat, while her body froze out of sheer panic. No… I'm really sorry, Ron!

"Why did you come here so early?" Ron asked, his voice colder than ice.

For the first time in her life, Millie was truly bothered by the fact that Ron was speaking to her. Say something, idiot! Don't just stand there!

"I… I just figured I'd come early, that's all," Millie replied lamely. "Can… Can you let go… of me…?"

"What happens when Daphne sees that you're not here?" Ron asked, frowning slightly. Oh… Oh, no, she's going to keep fighting with him, for my sake. Why didn't I think of that? Fuck, I can't even think ahead; I really am the weakest link, aren't I?

Millie didn't know what to say to Ron, so she just stood there quietly; feeling more and more powerless by the second. I'm useless, and I keep causing more problems for everyone.

"She's going to blame me," Ron said, letting go of her arm. "But that's fine, right? You keep on sulking around, while I get fucked repeatedly for trying to help you."

Millie's heart sank, and her eyes immediately began to burn. She sniffled, shifting in her spot but unable to walk away.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked her. "What is going through that head of yours? Because, for the life of me, I can't figure it out."

"Not… Nothing… I'm not doing anything…" Millie sniffled again. I'm really, really sorry… You have no idea how sorry I am! I wish I could take it all back-!

"Exactly, you're doing nothing," Ron said. "You're just…" he trailed off, shaking his head and looking truly disappointed. "No one has said anything to you, I know that I certainly haven't, but here you are; just making a bad decision worse."

"Wh… What…?" Millie blinked, feeling thick tears escape.

"This isn't going to go away," Ron told her simply. "What you're feeling… This dread and stress, it's only going to get worse." Millie didn't like the sound of that whatsoever, how could this feel any worse? "Your parents, they're not going to change; it's too late for them. We both know it. So, you'll have to choose, because I'm not going to let you endanger my plans ever again. Do you hear me? I won't let those two anywhere near this group, and if that means sending you on your way; then I'll cross that bridge as well."

Hearing him say it made it all too real, and Millie recoiled away from him. Ron didn't react, he had gotten very good at keeping his thoughts to himself. He simply stared at her, and then, he started walking away.

"If you ever decide that slavery and death aren't worthy goals to strive for, I'll be waiting," Ron said just as he neared the shore. "And if you decide to stay with your Family, then just leave quietly. I won't say anything, nor will I bother you ever again."

Ron then stopped, turning to face her again.

"And use the Disillusionment Charm on yourself on the way back," Ron said. "If Daphne has a go at me this early in the morning because of you, I'll be pissed."

Daphne Greengrass' POV

Monday 1st March, 1994 (The Moving Staircase – Before Breakfast)

Millie was missing; she was gone by the time Daphne and Pansy had woken up, and although Daphne had guessed that Millie had gone for her morning run early, probably to avoid Ron; Daphne hadn't seen any trace of her at the Black Lake.

This, of course, had put Daphne in a difficult situation. On the one hand, she had wanted to leave early in order to search for her missing friend, and on the other; she didn't want Granger cosying up with Ron even more.

The self-titled genius had become far too friendly with Ron ever since his return, and she had spent the entire morning stuck to his side. And the worst part is, Ron looks like he's enjoying her attention… He told me that we couldn't date because of his conditions, but he has no problem with making Granger his new priority.

Feeling her old tendencies return; Daphne felt the urge to sabotage Granger's entire life with her endless resources. I could, if I wanted to, and she wouldn't be able to do a single thing to stop me. My father might as well own Wizarding Britain, and one day; I'll inherit his all of his power. We'll see how far your Outstandings get you, then, Granger.

"If you keep staring at her like that, she'll catch fire," Pansy whispered, breaking Daphne out of her dark thoughts. "She's almost gone, Daph; just ignore her." How?! Look at her! She might as well throw herself at him! We just fucking broke up, Granger! Have some shame!

Ron was currently chatting to the Golden Trio, while his actual friends waited patiently for him to finish. Longbottom and Potter were in an unusually good mood, but it was Granger, and her constant touching of Ron's person, that was really off-putting. Even now, she keeps finding reasons to 'smack' him… I know what you're doing, Granger. You're trying to cop a feel, aren't you? I used to do it all the time-

"It's Millie," Pansy suddenly whispered, nudging Daphne so hard that she nearly got winded.

"Where?" Daphne asked, following Pansy's gaze down the stairs.

Just as Pansy had said, a freshly showered Millie was heading up with her head hanging low. She showered? So, she went back to the room while we were out? Where was she this morning? The sight of her defeated friend immediately pushed Granger out of Daphne's thoughts, and she wasted no time in making her way down to meet Millie halfway.

"Millie, there you are," Daphne stopped right in front of her, startling the poor girl.

Millie finally took notice of her surrounding, staring up at her friends and the Trio with a hesitant look. Everyone noticed her swollen eyes, but not a single person made a comment about it. If they want to just forget their own friend so quickly, then it's their loss. Millie made a mistake, and it's not like none of them have made a mess of things before. How many plans has Ron bungled up himself because of his uncontrollable temper?

"Millie, what's wrong?" Pansy whispered; she had followed Daphne down. Isn't it obvious? The boys are treating her like she doesn't exist! Oh, I'm so bloody angry with them, I can't even begin to describe it! None of them have a spine between them! If Ron told them to jump off of a mountain; they'd do with stupid grins on their faces!

"Nothing… I just slept poorly…" Millie lied; she was never very good at being dishonest.

"Slept poorly, my perky arse," Pansy muttered, shooting a look back at the boys.

"Millie, please, talk to us," Daphne urged, but as usual; she was met with a lot of shifting about and a lack of eye-contact. I hate seeing her like this, especially after seeing her blossom over the last two years. She's literally turning into how she was when… When we constantly put her down… It's not right!

Daphne once again felt the urge to start a row with Ron, hoping that he'd listen to reason this time. But he won't, because he's the most stubborn wizard on this side of the planet… What am I supposed to do? Nothing I've tried works, it's like they don't want to fix their friendship at all. Ron keeps distancing himself, and Millie keep wilting away. I wish Tracey were here…

"I'm going to go eat breakfast…" Millie began moving past them.

"Wait, you want to eat without us?" Daphne asked. "Millie-"

"Can you please just stop?" Millie suddenly asked, her voice rising out of frustration. "Stop putting the spotlight on me, okay? Leave me alone!"

Millie pushed past them at that, marching right past the boys, who were more than eager to step out of her way. Daphne felt anger swell up in her chest, why was no one listening to her? Both Millie and Ron are driving me insane!

"What are we going to do, Daph?" Pansy whispered, sounding truly worried. "I don't want Millie to go… Not after Trace…"

"I know, Pansy," Daphne muttered, feeling exhausted by the tension looming over them all. "I know…"

Her eyes briefly met Ron's, causing her anger and hurt with his recent choices to return. I gave him everything I had, I thought I made him happy, but he still decided to throw it all away without even bothering to tell me why… And now, he's getting friendly with other girls right in front of me. Fine… That's how you want to play, then, Ron? All right, we'll play this your way. I don't care that it's your birthday today, or, that the Fates have been nothing but unkind towards you. The way you've been behaving lately is unacceptable, and I've had enough.

Ronald Weasley's POV

Monday 1st March, 1994 (Hogwarts – After Lunch Classes)

While the class focused on Professor Hagrid's lecture on Salamanders, Ron found himself drifting off constantly. He'd had an odd day, and not in a good way… It was his birthday today, and while the entire student-body seemed to be excited about this; Ron found himself feeling even more down than yesterday.

Six years ago, on this very day; his entire life had been changed for the worst.

And now, everyone expected him to smile and be happy on his 'special day'… How could he smile today? How could he bring himself to feel anything other than bitterness and rage towards the cunts who had sealed his fate when he was barely old enough to understand what 'war' actually meant. Six years, and no end in sight… One day, though. One day, I'll be completely free. I just have to get through this, finish the Cycle and break the wheel. Put an end to this madness, once and for all.

"Ron, what do yer rub on Salamanders if they've got scale rot?" Professor Hagrid suddenly asked, no doubt planning to give Ron too many House-Points for such a simple question. Chilli powder prevents scale rot for Salamanders, or, you could toss them into a hot fire. That also works, if I'm remembering right.

"I don't know, Professor," Ron lied, surprising the entire class, but Professor Hagrid most of all.

Hermione's hand went up immediately, she was already on the tip of her toes. There, ask her and give her the Points. Gryffindor could use them, that's for certain.

"You knew the answer to that," Theo whispered. "Right? It's chilli powder-"

"I know," Ron said, looking off towards the castle. "I might just skip this class, Theo… It's boring me to death."

"What?" Theo blinked, while Blaise's head perked up. This is dull, and utterly pointless. What reason do I have to learn about fucking Salamanders? They're one of the most boring Magical Creatures in existence. All they do is spit fire, and if you drench them with Aguamenti; they literally start turning into steam.

Ron decided to be on his way, he just needed to convince Professor Hagrid to let him go. Shouldn't be hard, I've tricked sharper wizards in the past.

"Professor, may I please be excused?" Ron asked, raising his hand before Hermione could answer. "I'm feeling a little lightheaded, and this sun is getting to me…"

"Are yeh feelin' sick, Ron?" Hagrid asked, looking concerned almost instantly.

His classmates didn't waste any time in beginning their hushed conversations, which was an annoying problem that Ron had been dealing with from the moment he had come back. Ron's friends, however, were not so easily deceived, especially Daphne, who was giving him a rather dull look. What? Just sod off already, and leave me alone. When are you going to stop being pissy with me?

"Yeh can go a'ead," Hagrid gave him permission to leave. "Go up to Madam Pomfrey, she'll watch over yeh."

"I think I just need to lie down, Sir," Ron said. "No need to worry Madam Pomfrey, I'll go to her if I start feeling worse."

Hagrid gave a nod, looking back to the rest of the class.

"Ron, what are you doing?" Pansy whispered. "You shouldn't use your illness to get out of class… It could get you into real trouble." With who? Who's going to tell me off? The Professors? No, I doubt they have it in them to yell at me. Not counting Professor Snape, that is. He'll definitely go off if he hears about this.

"Theo, you mind sending my homework up later with Marty?" Ron asked, and Theo nodded his agreement. "Thanks, I'll see you… later…" Probably not, I've reached my limit for today. I just want to go and practise my Magic on my own, without my time being wasted by bloody Salamanders.

Monday 1st March, 1994 (The Sanctuary – Nearly Dinner)

The P-12 began closing the distance between them, but this time, Ron was ready for it. He had allowed the wooden man to push him back to the edge of the sandpit, simply to give the P-12 the illusion of victory. After countless Duels with the dummy, Ron had learned quite a few tricks to outfox stronger opponents.

The simplest of these tricks was to feign exhaustion and a sense of defeat, and when the enemy closed the distance in order to end the fight, that's when Ron would make his move. In hand-to-hand fight, Ron was certain that, when using Cutis Terra; he could even end wizards as powerful as Dumbledore with a single blow. They might be all powerful, but if my hand goes through their chest, which it would, I've tested it on the P-12; chances of survival are pretty much nil.

Ron began pulling a face as he slowly dropped to one knee, keeping his shield strong as it was bombarded by the approaching P-12. Look at it's movements… It's attacking, moving, and defending at the same time. It's fucking brilliant, and I really want to get that good! It's shame that the P-12 isn't capable of figuring out that I'm just deceiving it. It's still not as intelligent as an actual person.

The P-12 suddenly lunged forward, its wand glowing red-hot for a split-second before it pierced through the shield as if it were made of parchment. What the fuck?! That's new! Quick, move, Ron!

Dropping the illusion of being overpowered, Ron wasted no time in grabbing the P-12's wand arm with his left. The dummy's head clanked down to look at Ron's grip on its wrist, but before it could react, Ron yanked the P-12 towards himself and tossed it out of the ring.

"Didn't see that coming, did you, cunt?!" Ron threw his head back and laughed, while the P-12 stood up and stared down at its feet. "That's right, you're out! I win! No Wandless Magic, no fancy Spells… Just the human brain!" That felt good! I'm getting so much better at keeping my cool during fights, I used to get tense whenever something new came up, but now; I've seen enough to know that getting caught unawares is nothing short of a death sentence. I have to stay on the move, and I have to keep my cool.

"You have a brain?" came a familiar voice. "You didn't feel like sharing that information before?"

"Haha," Ron turned out, rolling his eyes. "Happy birthday, by the way, if it means anything to you."

"It really doesn't," Ravenclaw Ron shrugged, looking bored. Yeah, I get that. It's the worst day of the year, in my opinion. "So, why are you in here? Shouldn't you be with your friends? Celebrating? Eating cake?"

"Nothing would make me more miserable," Ron admitted. "The last thing I need today is to worry about them, while they fuck around and do whatever makes them 'happy'."

"That's people for you, selfish cunts," Ravenclaw Ron smirked. "Still, I have to wonder, do you really hate this day that much? I know that you didn't used to."

"You know what happened today," Ron said, stretching his back as he moved further into the sandpit. "P-12, follow."

The dummy did as it was instructed, stopping right behind Ron. What the…?

"No need to sniff my neck, mate," Ron frowned a little. "Step back a little, I want to practise on you."

The P-12 took several long steps back, facing Ron with perfect posture.

"What are you going to try?" Ravenclaw Ron asked.

"This," Ron replied, Wandlessly using a Depulso to lightly move the P-12 back. Nice, Ron! That was perfect!

"Ohhhh!" Ravenclaw Ron clapped, floating above Ron's head. "You managed to control it, colour me impressed."

"It wasn't too hard," Ron said, still feeling proud of himself.

"Yes, lie to the past-version of yourself currently living inside your head," Ravenclaw Ron sniggered childishly. To an ordinary person, that sentence would sound horribly disturbing, but for me, it's just another Monday.

"What a cluster-fuck…" Ron muttered under his breath.

"The best sort, mate," Ravenclaw Ron grinned. "A double-Ron special, twice the issues and twice the headaches! Now, how about we go for a walk in the moonlight, eh? It'll be fun!" Um…

"Look, I appreciate it, but I don't swing that way," Ron quipped, grinning back at his past-self.

"Tell that to your prick," Ravenclaw Ron said knowingly. "Nearly ripped it off last night, didn't we? Here's a hint, buy some lubrication, especially if you can afford it." We're going there, really?! I thought we had both silently agreed to keep some boundaries, at least!

"Shut up…" Lubrication? Like sex-stuff?

Ron couldn't help but shudder, he never wanted to picture Ravenclaw Ron and sex in the same ten seconds ever again. Scarred myself… Brilliant…

Twenty Minutes Later

"I shouldn't be up here," Ron said, staring down from the Astronomy Tower.

"Why? You're going to jump?" Ravenclaw Ron asked.

"Of course not," Ron shot a frown back. Maybe… I don't know…

"Since we're out here, you mind telling me what's been eating at you?" Ravenclaw Ron asked casually. "Can't help but notice that after Lysander's birth, you've slowly lost all steam. What's wrong? I thought you'd be gung-ho now that you have a cute toddler to protect."

"Nothing's wrong…" Ron lied, still staring down. It really is a long way; I would have been falling for at least a minute.

"Don't make pester you," Ravenclaw Ron said. "You know I'm good at pestering, right?"

"I know…" Ron remembered all too well. "You start screaming in my ears again, and I'll give you an actual reason to scream."

"It's Daphne, isn't it?" Ravenclaw Ron figured, and Ron couldn't stop himself from tensing. "But not just her, it's all of them. You're finally starting to see it, aren't you? How fucking useless everyone around you is. How self-absorbed they all are."

"Are you about to start one of your speeches, again?" Ron asked. "If so, please let me know so I can hurl myself over this railing."

"Do you remember what Blaise said?" Ravenclaw Ron went on, tapping his chin and pretending to think hard. "Oh, that's right! He was going to go back to his mother! Even though he's terrified of her! But then, Pansy offers him a nice, comfortable room in her manor, and he jumps onto that opportunity like a bitch in heat. Looks like it's comfort over friendship with Blaise Zabini, huh?"

Ron felt his heart ache, but he remained quiet. Why would he choose you, Ron? It's not like you put yourself at risk just to watch over him. You're just a pauper, one that grew up in a pigsty, remember? Why did you even offer him your home, he probably found the offer too beneath him to even consider.

Or, maybe Ron had taken it the wrong way, and Blaise hadn't meant any offence? No, you know that Blaise hates being uncomfortable more than anything. You know just how lazy they all are, constantly using you until they don't need anything from you. Then, they start treating you like you've done nothing but make their lives hell for the last two years.

"Did you come here to make me feel worse?" Ron couldn't help but ask. He's not wrong, though. For as long as I can remember, I've always tried to be there for them, to always put them first, no matter what. But they only care about their parents' wealth and power, just look at Pansy. She doesn't even care that she's been orphaned, and when you eventually die, Ron; she'll move on just as quickly.

"No, I came because you're spending your birthday alone, fighting a dummy that you can easily beat if you actually try," Ravenclaw Ron replied. "At least go see our siblings, I bet Ginny and Luna would be really excited to spend some time with you."

Ron shot a confused look back, staring at his past-self for a few moments.

"You don't want me spending my birthday by myself?" Ron asked. "Away from people, who are all selfish, according to you?"

"I know that I'd give anything just to have one slice of cake with them," Ravenclaw Ron shrugged, surprising Ron even more. "If you don't want to, I can't force you, of course. Was just giving a suggestion, I'm more than happy to spend the night training you."

"Why didn't you mention that before?" Ron sighed out. "Now, I'm standing up here like some cunt, and it's a twenty-minute walk back to the Sanctuary."

"You don't like this view?" Ravenclaw Ron asked.

"View? It's so dark that I can't see anything," Ron replied. "View, he says…"

"Would you like to see it?" Ravenclaw Ron asked, suddenly becoming serious.

"Pardon?"

"The view? Do you want to see it?" Ravenclaw Ron asked, and Ron nodded slowly. "Pull out your wand, and aim it against your right eye."

"A new Spell?" Ron stood up straighter, pulling his Aspen Wand out on instinct.

"Close your eyes and repeat after me, then gently tap your right eye with tip of your wand, followed by your left," Ravenclaw Ron instructed. "It's a very simple Transfiguration Spell, but highly effective during night. Say: Cattus Oculis Meis."

"Cattus Oculis Meis," Ron closed his eyes and chanted, feeling his Aspen Wand heat up a little.

He then gently tapped the tip of wand on his right eyelid, followed promptly by his left.

"Now, open!" Ravenclaw Ron instructed.

The first thing Ron noticed was the difference in the field of vision, it was as if his eyes were capturing more of what he was seeing. No, everything's just really bright and focused. Fuck, that hurts! Ron quickly shut his eyes, rubbing them with his balled fists.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered. "Is it supposed to feel so… uncomfortable? It feels like my eyes aren't made for my skull…"

"It's not my best work, but I tried to mimic 'Night-Vision Goggles'," Ravenclaw Ron replied.

"What?"

"Doesn't matter…" Ravenclaw Ron waved a dismissive hand. "Muggles tried stopping me as well, it didn't end well for them. Though, they did put up quiet the fight, especially their 'hunters'. Let's just hope you don't run into one of them, they could give the Loyalists a run for their money." What the fuck is he on about? Who are these hunters? And why are they so strong?

"Cunt, start making sense," Ron's patience was quickly being tested.

"I made this Spell so I could see in the dark," Ravenclaw Ron clarified.

"You made this Spell?" Ron repeated. "Really?" Doesn't that mean that I'm the only person on Earth who can cast this? Wicked.

"Wasn't easy, but yes," Ravenclaw Ron nodded. "And no, you don't need special training to make Spells; your Potions Professor built a majority of his arsenal before attending Hogwarts. The bastard didn't even need a wand, if you can believe that…"

"Well, that is Professor Snape, so yes, I can believe it," Ron replied, opening his eyes again. Now, let's try again.

This time, his eyes didn't feel uncomfortable, though the brightness of the Astronomy Tower was already doing his head in. Look towards the view, maybe that'll fix it? Ron looked towards the Forbidden Forest, and much to his astonishment; he could see everything!

"Fucking hell," Ron laughed excitedly, while Ravenclaw Ron just smiled to himself.

"Feel better?" Ravenclaw Ron asked.

"Loads," Ron nodded, staring at anything he could set his eyes on. "It's like the sun is out, but it isn't… Is everything supposed to be a little washed out?"

"Too much light going in," Ravenclaw Ron hummed to himself. "Try and take it a little easy on the incantation next time, eh? The Spell effectively pulls in whatever light it can find, allowing you to see in the dark. You use this during the day, though, and I'm certain that you'll burn your eyes out." Oh…

"Noted," Ron decided to remember that. "You really made this, then? An actual Spell of your own?"

"Actually, the original Spell is 'Aquila Oculis'," Ravenclaw Ron started. "You can remember that one as well, it'll give you greater depth perception, like an Eagle. You remember Rufus Scrimgeour?"

"Yes," Ron nodded.

"At some point, his ancestors found a way to permanently cast the Spell on themselves, and it became a heriditory trait," Ravenclaw Ron told him. "It's why his eyes were yellow-"

"Like Madam Hooch?" Ron asked.

"Exactly, you're catching on," Ravenclaw Ron nodded. "They are what the Wizarding World calls 'Legacies', witches and wizards born with a permanent Spell cast over them. For Scrimgeour and Hooch, their entire families are Eagle-Eyed bastards who could nail you with a Spell from half-a-mile away." Half-a-fucking-mile?! I can do that too, now?

"I'm trying this Spell-" Ron started.

"Take the last one off, idiot," Ravenclaw Ron said quickly.

"I need to take it off?" Ron asked. "How?"

"A simple Finite will undo it, this is not impressive Magic by any means," Ravenclaw Ron replied. "But you know how it is, right? I could kill a person with a quill, if I really wanted to. The application of the Spell is what makes the difference. Now, you have two more tools in your arsenal that you didn't have before. Happy Birthday, Ronnie."

"I… Thank you," Ron said, giving his past-self a grateful smile. "For trying to cheer me up, as well…" This is weird. Well, sort of… I feel like I've known him my entire life, and in a way, I have.

"Don't mention it," Ravenclaw Ron shrugged again, looking off into the distance. "Fuck… I have to say it, but I'm starting to feel like a broken record…" Huh?

"Say what?" Ron asked, and Ravenclaw Ron turned his focus back on the young Slytherin.

"Your friends… Theodore, Blaise, Pansy, Bulstrode, Malfoy, even Crabbe and Goyle…" Ravenclaw Ron started. "Don't trust these people, all right? They'll only keep letting you down, I'm telling you-"

"I don't care anymore…" Ron felt his mood begin to sour again. "They want to follow their Death-Eater parents, they can go right the fuck ahead. I've given them enough warnings, I've tried every single thing in the book to convince them of the coming danger, but they don't want to listen. They just don't listen… And now, I'm done, with all of them. They want to go, they can go. I won't stop them, nor will I spare them if I see them with a brand on their left forearm."

"You mean that?" Ravenclaw Ron asked. "No more chasing them down for training sessions? No more helping them tie up their shoelaces every time they trip?"

"They don't want that from me," Ron realized. "They think I'm nagging them, that I'm just saying the same thing over and over again until it comes true… I'm sick of wasting my breath." If they want to make the right choice, then they have every chance to do so. "The moment the chips are down, they'll go back to their murderer parents rather than face an ounce of hardship. Fuck them."

"Fuck them," Ravenclaw Ron nodded in agreement. "Help those who want your help, it'll save you a lot of misery, mate. You and I can't afford mistakes, we don't have the luxury of a happily-ever-after if we fuck up…"

"The fucking Entity," Ron growled, his grip tightening on the railing. "How is that fuck-stain? Is it comfortable?"

"I might have filled the Hourglass with scorching hot sand… It didn't enjoy the sensation," Ravenclaw Ron slowly began to grin. Scorching hot sand? Merlin, imagine being smothered to death by that, not that the Entity can die. Oh, wait… That's perfect!

"Good," Ron smiled a little viciously. "Keep torturing it every single day, it can feel the pain, right?"

"I run the show, now, so yes, it feels pain," Ravenclaw Ron promised.

"Then, keep up the good work," Ron said, feeling a lot better already. At least the Entity is suffering, that alone is worth it. Hope you're enjoying your stay in this particular Ronald Weasley, cunt. I'll be the one booting you out of here when I end the Cycles, I promise.

"Just before…" Ron started. "You mentioned my friends, but you didn't mention Daphne… Why is that?"

"Oh, that girl would kill someone if you asked her to," Ravenclaw Ron said. "Sure, she's being a bit of a twat right now, but I think a few sweet words would win her over again-"

"No more sweet words," Ron cut in, surprising his counterpart.

"She's a Greengrass, they're a very powerful Family-"

"They are nothing compared to me," Ron said bluntly. "If I want their gold, I'll take it. If I want their help, I'll make them help me. Fuck being there for people if they can't even accept your help simply because your house isn't as grand as theirs…"

"They're your friends," Ravenclaw Ron shrugged. "Do what you want with them, I honestly couldn't care less about any of them."

"Plus, Daphne has nothing," Ron added. "I need her father; she can't even start a single business. She's been at it for months, and she's done absolutely nothing… If I were in her shoes, I'd have set everything up within a few days."

"Bloody hell… You must be upset to speak about her like this," Ravenclaw Ron noted, his expression difficult to read. "Just don't off her, all right? I don't think Greengrass will help you if you snap his daughter's neck in a fit of anger." I'm only talking like this because she's not here… I don't have it in me to say these things to her, they would destroy her. Not that she cares much for how I feel, right now, that is.

"And here I thought I made this place 'Ronald proof'," came Dumbledore's voice from behind him, and Ron immediately turned to face the old wizard. MY EYES! I didn't take off the fucking Spell! Why are there so many fucking braziers up here?!

Ron could hear Ravenclaw Ron laughing his arse off, while Ron himself fumbled with his wand and used Finite to end the Spell. Oh, Merlin… Ow…

"That was dramatic," Dumbledore chuckled, walking over to Ron's side and resting his elbows on the railing. "Lovely night, tonight. Don't you think?"

"You knew I was up here?" Ron asked, sounding awfully paranoid.

"I Warded the Astronomy Tower," Dumbledore admitted, smiling at the clouds hiding the moon. "You and I could jump off right now, and we'd stop right before hitting the ground. I've taken the liberty to secure the castle against any future incidents."

"You mean suicide attempts," Ron said, following Dumbledore's gaze. "Shame… Now, I'll have to leave the school if I want to off myself."

"Don't make me Ward your person," Dumbledore said, half-warningly and half-teasingly. "If I must babysit you, Ronald. I will."

"I doubt the pay would be very good," Ron remarked. "I reckon you should stick to being a Headmaster, even if you're horrible at it."

"Am I?" Dumbledore laughed. "Strange, I thought I was always quite talented at it."

"Aren't you talented in everything?" Ron had to ask.

"Everything I try," Dumbledore replied.

"What a prick, he still died coughing his lungs out like some rabid mutt," Ravenclaw Ron rolled his eyes, vanishing from sight. Merlin, what a grim bastard. What did he do to the old man?

"You have nothing to say about that?" Dumbledore asked. Pardon?

"Sorry, got… distracted," Ron made up a lie. "Clouds look nice, that's all."

"Ronald, may I ask what you're doing up here?" Dumbledore asked. He doesn't think I'm here to end the Cycle, does he? "Why aren't you at dinner?"

"Not hungry," Ron shrugged. "And I felt like going for a walk."

"Are you sure you're not hungry?" Dumbledore asked, and Ron gave him a quizzical look.

"No, my brain doesn't work the first time around, sorry," Ron retorted. "What sort of question was that?"

"There is Shepard Pie, I am told," Dumbledore insisted.

"Headmaster, I don't want to be around people," Ron confessed. "Can you please not pester me about it?"

"Something is troubling you, anyone could see that," Dumbledore started. "Perhaps if you tell me, I might be able to offer assistance." I doubt it. My friends don't listen to me, so why would they listen to you? "Must I take guesses?"

"Must you?" Ron asked in response. "You could try leaving it alone."

"Where is the fun in that?" Dumbledore asked rather seriously. Fuck me… Fine, I'll tell you, since you probably plan to stick Professor Snape onto me if I don't open up now.

"It's the sixth-year anniversary of the Cycles, today…" Ron said, finding it oddly painful to get the words out. "Six years…"

Dumbledore's expression softened, and he gave Ron an understanding nod. And then, he said the one thing no one would expect to hear on a birthday, but it was the only thing that gave Ron a little solace after such a miserable day.

"I'm very sorry, Ronald," Dumbledore said, giving Ron's shoulder a paternal squeeze. "You deserve the world, my boy, for all that you've been put through. For all the good you've done for others, despite your own troubles."

"… Thanks, Headmaster…" Ron felt soothed, as if someone had applied fresh Numbing Balm to his wounds.

"We will end the Cycles," Dumbledore promised. "We will not stop until you are free, I swear it to you, dear boy."

Ron felt his throat tighten even more, and all he could manage was a curt nod. Dumbledore smiled warmly, patting Ron on the arm and gesturing him to follow.

"Ahem…" Ron cleared his throat, following after the old wizard. "Headmaster, where are we going?"

"For a walk, just as you wanted," Dumbledore replied, not losing his pace. "And while we walk, you can tell me about your other troubles as well."

"Um… There are no other troubles-"

"What of Millicent?" Dumbledore asked, and Ron stopped immediately. Don't tell me… Oh, fuck, no!

"Daphne…" Ron realized. "She told you, didn't she? When? Today?" On my birthday? What's gotten into her?! What did I fucking do?!

"Ronald, do not be upset with her," Dumbledore urged. "Two of her closest friends are so close to parting ways, and she has failed repeatedly to bring you both to the table. Your stubbornness in not listening to her has played a part in her desperation-"

"Why do I keep getting blamed for everything?!" Ron finally reached his limit with his scornful ex. Fuck this day! And fuck you, Fate! You golden tart! You took my fucking life from me! "Daphne is just busting my fucking balls constantly, what the fuck did I even do to her?! I'm focusing on helping Blaise right now, even though he doesn't care for my help because I don't match his standards, but nooooo! Let's keep crying about Millicent as well, who made a really disgusting choice that could've destroyed actual lives, while her friend's crime was to give her the truth! I didn't threaten her parents! I just wanted her to know for her own good! Fucking hell, I haven't even said anything to her since I've been back!"

Ron drew in a shaky breath, his hands clenching into trembling fists. Just… Fuck! I'm so close to screaming in Daphne's face!

Dumbledore said nothing, staring at Ron with a concerned gaze. What?!

"Why are my friends so fucking…?!" Ron tried, but he couldn't think of the words due to how angry and hurt he was because of them. Fucking Blaise… Comes begging to me for help, and then scoffs in my face… Fuck… What the fuck?! It's unbelievable!

"Ronald… Take a deep breath, please," Dumbledore took a slow and steady step towards him.

Unwilling to let his rage out, and cause even more problems; Ron simply gave up and dropped down onto his arse, pushing his head in-between his knees and shutting his eyes tightly. This is how he hid from the twins when he was younger, when they'd become particularly nasty and start punching him on the back of his thighs. I always hated that fucking game! Fred never held back a single punch!

"I'm done with them, Headmaster," Ron promised, sounding frustrated and close to tear. "I'm completely done!"

Dumbledore kneeled down in front of Ron, another sorry look on his face, no doubt. Don't cry, no! Ron forced his mind to focus, to the point where his forehead began to throb. Calm yourself down, now! Ron began taking deep breaths, going through his exercises on his own and slowly regaining his composure.

"Okay…" Ron muttered eventually, carefully pulling his head back out of his knees. "I'm okay…"

Dumbledore let out a weak grunt as he moved over to Ron's side, sitting down on his arse as well.

"Headmaster… Your robes…" Ron cleared his throat. Bloody hell, I feel drained.

"Think nothing of them," Dumbledore said, resting his hand on Ron's back.

A cool sensation began to grow on Ron's back, cooling down his body and easing his mind. What is that?

"What are you doing?" Ron asked.

"Glacius," Dumbledore smiled. Oh, of course. "I believe you are quiet adept at this particular Progenitor Spell, are you not?"

Ron nodded; he knew that Dumbledore was trying to make him feel special. And it's working… He's too good at this…

"Can we please stay here?" Ron asked. "Just us?"

"Are you hungry enough for some tea and scones?" Dumbledore asked, and Ron nodded weakly. Tea would be brilliant, and the Headmaster has a mouthwatering collection.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Ron rested his forehead on his knees, drawing in more deep breaths. Just make a promise tonight, Ron. Never nag them again, about anything. If they want something, they can work for it like everyone else. If they ask you for help, offer it. If not, don't ever bother. I'm done sheltering ungrateful brats who keep ignoring me. It's time they got a harsh awakening, just like I did six years ago.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hello, there!

Second half still to come, give me 2-3 days, I tried a new writing method where you write the ending of a chapter first so you know what you're heading for. This, however, doesn't account for inspiration, which is why you always build from a foundation... Whoops!

Come back in around 3 days for the second half, which has more POVs and the first half of the Rank Tournaments. (Second half after Easter Break)

Update: I am quite all right, and not abandoning the story lmao! I've got a new job, and they're working me hard, so I'm more busy and tired than usual. Rest assured, I've added more than planned and the chapter is nearly done, it will be out soon. I'm still getting used to writing when I'm tired and lack motivation =P