Fate

by TheTrueSpartan

When Ron discovers that he can see the future, his entire fate is thrown off of its course. A story about adventure, friendship, growing up, and pushing forward through hardships. This story will get darker as it progresses, just like the original Harry Potter novels. It will cover all Seven Years of Hogwarts, but mostly from Ron's perspective. No Mary Sues, no Character bashing.

131. Chapter 131 - Strength

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Chapter 131 is here! Sorry for the delay, but the update turned into a whole new chapter once I really got into it!

Please Enjoy!

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

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

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

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Fate

Chapter 131 - Strength

Ronald Weasley's POV

Monday 1st March, 1994 (The Astronomy Tower – After Dinner)

"Sorry about the surprise party," Ron apologized, taking his final sip and putting the cup down. "I thought you were trying to pester me."

"The Professors will understand, I will speak to them," Dumbledore promised. "Though, you'll have to cut the cake tomorrow; I'm told Hagrid put his best effort in to make enough for everyone." How big is that cake? And what sort of oven did he use?! Is Professor Hagrid using Magic? I thought he wasn't allowed to, not after he was expelled.

"So, I have to come to breakfast?" Ron asked, unable to hide his reluctance.

"Ronald," Dumbledore started almost-sternly, and Ron let out a long breath. "This new habit of yours is beginning to concern to us all, enough is enough-"

"Fine, fine…" Ron agreed. "I'll come to breakfast tomorrow; I promise. No need to chew me out."

Dumbledore finished up his tea at that, and then, with a wave of his hand; Dumbledore banished the empty cups, teapot, and plates. That was really nice, and I think I want to do this again, soon.

"Can we do this again?" Ron asked. "If you have time, that is-"

"I was going to suggest the very same thing," Dumbledore chuckled, patting Ron on the back. Really? Brilliant! "However, let's use chairs next time, my bones are not what they used to be, I'm afraid."

"You look fine to me," Ron smiled, hoping up to his feet and offering Dumbledore his gloved hand. "Come on, I'll help you up."

Dumbledore took Ron's hand with another hearty chuckle, and with one swift motion, Dumbledore was on his feet once again. He's surprisingly light… I suppose his grand robes make him look heavier than he is.

"Strong boy," Dumbledore complimented absentmindedly, but Ron took note of it. I am pretty strong, aren't I? All that training is worth it, and I feel ready to up my game. I'll send a letter to Madam Roberts, ask her for general advice. She won't mind that, I think.

"Let's go down?" Ron asked, noticing that Dumbledore was already heading towards the stairs. Fair enough, let's go, then.

The journey back down was long and silent, both wizards were content with each other company and there was nothing left to be discussed. Ron, instead, focused on himself; his obsession with becoming a stronger wizard was quickly becoming a hobby of sorts. Training was one of the few things left in Ron's life that he enjoyed and looked forward to, and right now; it was the only thing that could keep his mind off of his ever-fermenting frustration with the people in his life.

The hallways were devoid of students and ghosts, which wasn't surprising, given that dinner had recently ended. Everyone had returned to their dorms, to enjoy some peace and quiet before another day of studies and socializing. A small part of Ron did miss the day-to-day life of Hogwarts, he had only really enjoyed it during his first year. At that time, he had planned to join clubs, maybe even Flitwick's choir, and of course; he had wanted nothing more than to be a starting Quidditch player for his House Team…

Those had been some great days, full of optimism and potential.

"Ronald?" Dumbledore stopped, noticing that Ron had slowed down. I should've died at the end of first year…

"I'm going to head down to the Dungeons," Ron said, pointing towards the next left. "Need sleep after all those scones, you Conjured up far too many."

"No one asked you to eat the lot, my boy," Dumbledore smiled, not noticing anything.

"You did, when you put them in front of me," Ron said, burping at the end. "Fuck… They were good, though."

Dumbledore shook his head, looking even more amused.

"I will bid you a good night, then, Ronald," Dumbledore said.

"Night, Headmaster," Ron said, walking off as he gave a wave. "Thanks again, and I'm keen to try more teas with you."

"Certainly," Dumbledore said, he too had missed his most therapeutic pastime. Now, I'll double back and head to the Sanctuary. I want to practise sensing Magic before I sleep tonight, it's so close to Occlumency that I feel like I'm improving in both by practising the other. Both are helping me to hone my focus, and I really need that in my life.

Ron, always eager to test his limits, closed his eyes without breaking his stride. I'll sense the Magic of any oncoming individuals, and dodge them accordingly. Ron instinctively slowed down his breathing, turning inwards before reaching out any living thing around him. It should be swift, Ron. Don't delay and overthink it, follow Artyom's instructions to the letter.

He felt nothing right off the bat, aside from small specks of Magic on the floor and walls. What did Artyom call this? Residual Magic left behind by all living things. Ron focused on it in order to discover who had been here before him, but it was too difficult to single out any one person in this vast pool. There's too much, so I should just ignore it for now. Still, maybe I can track people down using this technique? Is this how Artyom always knows what's happening around him? He spent most of his time Mastering this particular 'Art of Magic'? I really need to do more research into how deep Magic runs, especially outside of Magical Britain.

As Ron neared his destination, he felt a tremor of Magic emanate from three hallways away. He felt a sharp sense of excitement, followed by several mashed-together sensations. It's a group? Yeah, it definitely is, and I can't even begin to sort through that much Magic… Yet.

Ron drew in a deep breath and turned his focus to the entrance of the Sanctuary, resting his left palm on the door in order to better connect with it. He immediately noticed that it felt… artificial? It wasn't living, that's all he could really say, actually. But there is definitely a lot of Magic here, the door is almost bursting with it. Is it always like this? So… active?

Ron frowned to himself; he couldn't make heads nor tails of this Art of Magic. He needed a tutor; however, his tutor now had his hands full with the Werewolves. At least he's committed to his work, I couldn't ask for a better partner. I'll just keep owling him; Helios could use the exercise.

Ron pushed the door open and entered, quickly closing it behind him. Home sweet home-

"There you are!" came Pansy's voice, and Ron drew in a sharp breath. It was active because there were people in here, Ron… You fucking moron… Why can't you think two steps ahead of you?

"Where did you go, Ron?" Theo asked, and Ron turned to face the duo. Only them? Where are the others?

"I went for a walk," Ron replied. "What are you two doing here?"

"Looking for you, obviously," Pansy sighed out. "Ron, we planned a party for you…"

"At the Great Hall?" Ron asked. "Sorry about that, I wasn't feeling up to it-"

"Pansy meant an afterparty," Theo clarified. Oh, damn. "Your siblings, the trio, even Cedric and Max are there. We're all waiting on you." What?

"Um…" Ron swallowed thickly, feeling put on the spot. "Who arranged this? Was it Daphne?"

"No, your brother, Percy, is the mastermind this time," Pansy replied, surprising Ron further. "He went around inviting people today, I thought it was the sweetest thing!" Right… Now what, Ron?

"You have to come, mate," Theo said, sounding dead-serious. "People put in genuine effort here, so don't be a bitch."

"Oi, fuck you," Ron started, but he quickly restrained himself. "I… Okay, let's go." Percy would be gutted if I ditch this, he doesn't usually do these kind gestures. I'll go there, eat a little cake, and then, I'll say goodnight and leave.

---

Monday 1st March, 1994 (Abandoned Classroom – Near Midnight)

A large banner displaying his name hung over him, there was a plate of cake in his gloved hand, a fork in the other, a cheap party hat rested on a tilt atop his head, and waves of people kept rocking up to take photos with him. I didn't even know that half of these people existed until tonight. Small afterparty, my arse. Who invited the ghosts? They're so rowdy!

Percy had, evidently, gone a little overboard. From what Ron could understand, this had all started when countless Owls from across the globe had flown in with presents.

Presents for Ron, that is…

There were people out there who were willing to send him their best wishes, even spend their hard-earned gold on him, and these people had flooded Hogwarts' owlery. Flinch had been livid, and he had called the Prefects in to clean up the mess 'with that Magic of yers, damn kids…'. The Prefects had then alerted Percy, who had decided to be spontaneous for a change. He started dishing out invites in public, not being subtle in the slightest. Of course, every cunt and their mother rocked up, who doesn't want to party?

Percy hadn't been ready to host this many people, which wasn't surprising, given his lack of experience in the matter, and as such, problems quickly arose. I'm feeding these bastards out of my own pocket… Fucking hell, Percy… And Marty, he worked his arse off all day, and then, I start asking him to run more errands like some ingrate prick… The poor cunt. I need to make it up to him-

"Can I get a picture with you, Ron?" came Lavender's voice, interrupting Ron's thoughts. More people, I'm even starting to feel bad for Colin.

"Sure, Lavender," Ron put on a smile, unable to hide how tired he felt. It's getting so late, and I need to be up before six. I might need to take two Nutrition Potions in the morning, just to get me through the day.

"Are you all right?" Lavender asked, taking on a gentler tone as if Ron were a puppy. I barely heard her… Speak up, woman. Stop trying to be cute, especially when you're already fucking cute.

"I'm just a bit tired, that's all," Ron replied, keeping his tongue in check. "Come here, do you want me to put my arm around you?" Everyone else seems to like it.

"Can you?! I really like this suit, it's very stylish, Ron!" Lavender beamed, quickly making her way over. I should start charging people, that way I can at least explain myself to Gornuk. He'll bring up this random charge, I know it.

After they were in position, Colin took a photo of them before promptly returning to his conversation with Ginny. He's almost professional about it, doesn't even break his stride while snapping a picture.

"Can we do one more, Colin?" Lavender asked, and the mousy Gryffindor turned back to them.

"Oh, sure," Colin nodded, eagerly aiming his camera at them. Smile, Ron. Don't look so fucking glum.

He suddenly felt something warm on his cheek, Lavender had stood up on her toes and given him a kiss. Ron's first thought was to turn his head and question her, but instead, he found himself mimicking the Stone Gargoyle. Ginny let out a whistle, smirking knowingly at her older brother, whose ears were beginning to glow red. I really hope no one saw that, I don't need any more trouble!

"That's for my personal collection," Lavender shot him a wink, smiling contently as she headed over to Colin to collect the pictures. Bloody hell… What did I do to deserve that?

"Having fun, big brother?" Ginny asked teasingly, stopping right beside him.

"You don't think anyone saw that, did you?" Ron asked, looking around for prying eyes. There's always some cunt watching.

"Relax, Greengrass is on the other side of the room," Ginny rolled her eyes. "Avoiding you, I think." Yeah, I figured… "So? Lavender Brown?"

"I didn't do anything," Ron said almost defensively.

"But you definitely didn't mind," Ginny stated, smirking again.

"Get that smirk off your face," Ron frowned a little. "You're starting to look like Theo, for Merlin's sake. It's downright disturbing."

"That's just mean," Ginny snorted. Good, it was meant to be. "Seriously, though, you should go talk to Lavender. I heard that a whole gaggle of witches want to have a chat with you tonight, word's out that you and Greengrass aren't a couple anymore-"

"Where did you hear this?" Ron asked, was someone talking about him?

"You two aren't exactly close, and people took notice," Ginny shrugged, clearly keeping her sources to herself. "I don't see the problem here, Ron. You get to pick whoever you like; I doubt there are many witches here who will turn you down." I don't want them; I want Daphne, but I've fucked everything up between us by trying to throw away my life. Yeah… Fuck chasing after girls, I'll only cause them problems down the line. I need to focus on the war-

"Ron?" Ginny nudged him. "Merlin, why do you keep zoning out? You do it a lot!" Well, my little sister is pushing me to hook up with a stranger; why would I want to take part in this conversation? It's weird, and she knows a lot more about this stuff than she should-

"Okay, now, I'm getting worried," Ginny said, moving in front of him. "Is everything all right? You look… unhappy… You don't like the party? Is that it? If so, we can leave and go for a walk." It's too late for that, you want Filch dragging you to Professor McGonagall in the middle of the night?

"I think I'll head to bed," Ron said. "I'm really tired, Gin, and it's getting late. I need my sleep, more than most, actually."

"Oh," something flashed behind Ginny's eyes. "You're feeling tired because of…" she trailed off. What? No. I'm tired because I've been up all day, like any other normal person would be. "It's okay, then. You can go, I'll tell Percy that you got sleepy and went to bed." That works for me, actually.

"Where is he, by the way?" Ron asked.

"Making sure that none of us younger students have any fun," Ginny replied dully. "I heard there was going to be alcohol here-"

"You want to repeat that?" Ron lost what little patience he had left.

"Um… I meant punch?" Ginny muttered, realizing her position. "I wouldn't actually drink proper alcohol, Ron-"

"Punch has alcohol in it, genius," Ron said, tapping Ginny

"I know that, but it doesn't have much," Ginny said quickly. "I'm not stupid, I'd be careful."

"How about you don't try it at all until you're of age? That's being careful, Gin," Ron said, and Ginny rolled her eyes again.

"That's being boring," she said petulantly. "Plus, you've told me about you and your friends, remember? It's a bit unfair that you've tried it, but you don't want me to try it."

"I'll buy you something pretty if you do as I say," Ron decided to put the idea to bed. "Or, maybe a new broom? How about a Firebolt?" With that sort of encouragement, she's bound to join the Gryffindor Team. Plus, it'll keep her away from trouble, which is another win for me.

"A Firebolt?" Ginny blinked. "No, you're joking… Right?" I know you want it, so just accept it and stay away from bad influences.

"I can have it here in a couple of days, it's nothing for me," Ron admitted, he was already expecting a large return from The Quibbler. Gornuk should've added even more gold into my vault by now, all of those stolen gems need to go. I'll ask him to work faster, I don't want any form of problem disturbing me.

"And, I just have to stay away from alcohol? Until I'm of age?" Ginny asked, clearly thinking the offer over. "That's a long time, Ron… What about fourteen?" No.

"Sixteen," Ron offered a new deal.

"Fifteen," Ginny said firmly. "Not even a Firebolt is worth that many years, I'm sorry… I've already lost one…" Does she think that will work on me? That I'll feel sorry for her?

Ron stared at her for a few moments; she did look a little distant, and given what she had been through, Ron figured that he shouldn't be surprised. Fifteen, then… Ron, you softie…

"Fifteen," Ron nodded, ending the conversation. "I'll order it tomorrow-"

"Really?!" Ginny beamed, wrapping her arms around him hurriedly.

"Oi, watch the fuckin' plate-"

"Thank you, thank you!" Ginny laughed. "If you order it tomorrow, it should be here by Wednesday?! Right?!"

"Slow down, it'll get here within a couple of days, I'm sure," Ron said, noticing that Ginny was trying to squeeze his organs out. I have missed these hugs of hers… "Be careful on it, all right? It's wicked fast, and I don't want you hurting yourself in an effort to show off."

"I don't show off," Ginny pulled her head back, looking innocent. Horseshit.

"Uh-huh," Ron pulled a face. "And get off me, weirdo, people are starting to stare."

"So?" Ginny huffed. "I'm your sister! If I don't get to hug you, then who does?"

"Luna, she's the only one," Ron nodded to himself, ignoring Ginny's offended look. "Now, off. You're crinkling my suit."

"Where did you get this?" Ginny asked, flipping the collar to look at the material.

"Tsk, get off me," Ron squirmed, wiggling away. "Be gentle, this cost me loads of gold."

"You're such a girl," Ginny snorted. "You take care of your nails, too, Ron?"

"I do, you fucking savage," Ron stared down at her in disappointment, while putting his left hand on display. "Dirty hands show that you don't care for hygiene. If you can't take care of yourself, then how can you be relied upon? Hm? People think about these things out there, it's important."

Ginny snorted again, and Ron rolled his eyes instinctively.

"They teach you this in Slytherin, do they?" Ginny giggled. "How to please the 'Lords and Ladies'?"

"Well, no," Ron started. "My friends taught me, so I could impress their parents."

Ginny gave him a quizzical look at that.

"You had to prove yourself to these people?" Ginny asked, seemingly losing her mirth. "That seems… wrong, doesn't it? You had to win the right to be friends with them, while they did what? Just play along? Watch you bow and scrape at their parents' feet?" How short-sighted, but why am I even surprised?

"Respect is important to a lot of people, Ginny," Ron explained. "It's important to me as well. I proved to these 'Lords and Ladies' that I could fit into their world, that the label of 'Blood-Traitor' is nothing but that; a label. The fact that I can have a Firebolt delivered directly to your room, not even through Owl-Mail, should prove to you that I've done a few things right. Hell, I've spent the whole night taking photos with people, as if I were Celestina Warbeck!" So much for dodging the spotlight, Ron. What a fuck-up…

Ginny nodded slowly, she couldn't deny that she was impressed with her brother's numerous achievements, at last.

"You lecture a lot," Ginny suddenly said. "I just noticed."

"Brilliant, that's what you got from that?" Ron asked dully. I'm doing it again! Why can't I stop nagging people?!

"No, I understand," Ginny said, and Ron cocked an eyebrow. "Don't give me that look, I totally get it. You worked your way up from the bottom, and very quickly too, from what I can tell." Hmmm, she does get it. Fuck it, give her another nugget of Ron-Wisdom.

"Work harder, and you will see better changes in your life," Ron promised Ginny. "That Firebolt is your ticket into the Gryffindor Team, don't waste it. When my friends asked me to impress their parents, I was a complete prat about it, but eventually, I realized that Lord Greengrass could help me start a career with just one word. Only a snob turns their nose up at hard-work, and we Weasleys are not snobs."

"Yes, dad," Ginny giggled, and Ron couldn't help but smile. One day, she'll be a Professional Quidditch Player. That's her dream, and I'll help nudge her in the right direction before I check out. That ought to please the cunt in my head as well. I know he worries about her, even enough to ask me for help.

"Walk me out?" Ron asked Ginny, sending his untouched plate floating to a nearby table.

"Show off," Ginny remarked, still looking impressed, however. "Wait… You're leaving? What about Percy?"

"He's barely come over since things picked up," Ron told her. "He's too busy being a nosey-prefect, and in the process, he's the only one putting a damper on this party." This party that I'm fucking paying for, because I'm a dumb cunt.

"What of the twins?" Ginny asked.

"I saw Fred snogging Angelina Johnson in the corner, they thought no one could see them, but I could," Ron replied. "I saw them very clearly." It was gross.

"Why did you say it like that?" Ginny grimaced. "So creepy…"

"You're the fucking creepy one," Ron said, his tone almost bored. "With that massive forehead of yours-"

"Don't you dare!" Ginny gasped, following after Ron.

"Fucking blinding people from the sun reflection-" Ron never bothered to stop, but when Ginny punched his arm, he groaned tiredly and quit while he was ahead. Made her angry, I win.

"What about your friends?" Ginny asked, sounding more aggressive.

"The lads and Pansy stuck around for a while, but my 'fans' sent them packing," Ron replied. "I'll see them soon enough; we're going running in like six hours."

"I might skip this one," Ginny said. Oh… Don't say anything, Ron. No nagging. "I want to talk to Colin some more, he's got some really funny stories." Does he, now?

"What sort?" Ron asked, nearing the door. No one's even noticed that I'm leaving, that's how fucking packed it is in here.

"Oh, don't you start-" Ginny began, but she was stopped abruptly when the door suddenly swung open, revealing a sneering Severus Snape. Oh, fuck me!

"Sir-" Ron started, but as Snape moved into the room, a deafening silence fell over everyone.

McGonagall stepped in right after, her lips pressed thin and her left eye twitching. And lastly, in walked Flitwick, a curious but stern expression on his face. We're fucked, this is a school night…

Snape looked around the room, studying the horrified faces of the students, and then, finally, his black eye was fixed on the banner with Ron's name plastered on it. Oh… OH! NO!

"No… No, no, no… No…" Ron's words failed him, as he too stared at the banner. This can't be happening to me!

"You… little weasel…" Snape hissed, almost shaking with rage. Are you seriously fucking doing this to me on my birthday, Universe?! Show some fucking mercy, you cunt! I'm dead, Snape's going to murder me this time!

"Gryffindors, outside, now," McGonagall turned on her heel, she had seen enough. "Severus, I'll leave Mr. Weasley and the rest in your and Filius' care."

"Thank you, Minerva," Snape said, sounding terrifyingly calm all of a sudden. "I will gladly take over from here." Brilliant…

---

Wednesday 3rd March, 1994 (The Dungeons – After Potions Club)

"So? What happened?" Hermione asked suddenly, spooking Ron. "We've all been dying to know, but you barely ever make an appearance anymore. What did Professor Snape do to you after the party?"

"Daphne told him that it wasn't my idea, and thankfully, he listened to her," Ron replied. He's still not happy with me, though. 'You should know better than to encourage such behaviour, boy'. The man can never be pleased, I swear. "Percy got a scolding, but given my circumstances; the Professors understood why he put the party together, and how it got out of hand.

"Oh…" Hermione almost sounded disappointed.

"Oi, were you hoping that I got in trouble?" Ron asked, nudging her side.

"What?! No!" Hermione denied, but her ever-growing, guilty smile gave her away.

"What sort of friend are you?" Ron asked, feigning hurt. "Who hurt you, Hermione? Why are you like this?"

"Stop that," Hermione giggled, lightly smacking his arm. "I'm not like that, I don't want to see you get in trouble. I was just hoping for…" she trailed off.

"Gossip?" Ron provided, giving her a knowing look. I've caught you, and you know it.

"Fine… I wanted to hear something scandalous," Hermione confessed, not looking guilty in the slightest. "But, I suppose, it's for the best that Greengrass came forward quickly; Professor Snape looked murderous!" I'm just glad he didn't dock any points from anyone, Slytherin can't afford to lose its lead. I've put everything on this, and if we lose, the other Slytherins will blame me. Also, why is Hermione suddenly looking constipated?

Hermione was giving Ron a curious look, her eyes slightly narrowed, and so; he stopped in order to better face her.

"What is it?" Ron asked. "You're acting off, all of a sudden."

"I probably shouldn't ask…" Hermione muttered under her breath, but just loud enough for him to hear.

"Hermione, I like it when people just tell me what they want," Ron said. "I don't like 'signals', or, other garbage that can lead to misunderstandings. What's on your mind? Tell me."

Hermione drew in a sharp breath, looking ready.

"What's going on with you and your friends?" Hermione asked. Ah… Fuck. "We've all been running together, right? Neville and Harry are also curious, and I think Ginny is as well… Is something wrong? You're all acting very different."

"Different how?" Ron asked, not keen to explain the mess he called 'life'.

Hermione drew in another sharp breath, looking a little frustrated with Ron being reserved. She's so easily wound up. She should work on that, especially given her heritage.

"Well, for one, Nott wants to be my friend," Hermione started. Fucking Theo… Is he taking the piss? I should ask him what he's up to, just in case. I don't want him playing any of his pranks on Hermione, she's not built to enjoy our sense of humour. "Then, there's Bulstrode, who was very lovely to Ginny until recently, according to Ginny herself." Why is that girl still skulking around?! Just fucking make up your mind to stay with us, or, confront your parents and get some answers. Do something, you fucking coward, before they make the choice for you.

Ron drew in a deep breath, just the thought of spending the next few hours with all of them made his blood boil. They're fucking killing me with their behaviour, I feel like I'm constantly under threat of being fucked over. I hate it!

"Ron?" Hermione waved in his face.

"My friends and I are… at odds…" Ron said, he didn't want to speak about this anymore. "Well, I'm at odds with them… I don't even fucking know, honestly. All I know is that they're taking advantage of me, and I can't seem to stop doing everything for them… And, we've all been through hell… So, we're all angry and desperate… It's so fucking ugly, now." I hate sitting with them; it genuinely makes me upset, as pathetic as that sounds.

His chest felt a little lighter as more words poured out of his mouth, as if the poison was being drawn; however, he knew that he needed to stop. Hermione didn't need to hear this; she would take it upon herself to help. It's my problem, and I'll fix it myself.

"… I didn't know…" Hermione mumbled, looking flabbergasted with Ron's outburst. "I'm sorry, Ron… That's dreadful…" That's an apt description of my entire life, believe me.

"I just… need some time to figure things out…" Ron nodded to himself. "So, is your curiosity sated?"

"Actually…" Hermione shifted in her spot. "Greengrass? Um… Does she have a problem with me?" I hope the walls cave-in, and we all drown in the Black Lake. It would be better than this conversation I'm stuck in.

"She has a problem with me, not you," Ron sighed out, feeling decades older. "Please, just ignore those looks, she's not good at sharing…" I'm surprised she's held on this long, because usually, she puts an end to anything that vexes her in the slightest.

"Sharing?" Hermione blinked, looking somewhat startled.

"My attention, Hermione," Ron clarified. "She doesn't like to share it, and lately, I've been spending more time with other people. We have a… bond… I know it sounds mental, but she and I are used to being around each other constantly. But, now… Now, I haven't spoken to her in what feels like ages…"

"That doesn't seem very fair to me," Hermione gave her thoughts. "You're allowed to talk to other people, Ron. She doesn't own you, and I think that you need to tell her to back off-"

"You're clearly misunderstanding what I'm saying," Ron cut in, he despised it when people made things worse with their misunderstandings. And don't speak about her in that tone, not if you know what's good for you.

Hermione went quiet, no doubt noticing that Ron's mood had shifted very suddenly.

"Daphne could have spent the last two and a half years enjoying her perfect life, but instead, she spent them by my side; helping me through everything," Ron told her, unable to hide his fierce love for his best friend. "Even when my own Family were breaking my heart, Daphne was the one person I could count on. You have no idea how much has happened between us, all the shit we have endured together… Don't even think about speaking ill of her near me, Hermione. I won't forgive that. Ever." There, I've put my foot down.

Ron drew in a deep breath at that, pulling back his aggression in order to not make any more trouble. It's fine, Ron… She doesn't have to get it, but she needed to know that I won't let her do this. I'm sick of this bickering, it needs to be put to rest already. Hermione looked properly scolded, and judging from her body language, she was eager to leave Ron's company.

"You can go," Ron said, losing his interest in whatever conversations they could've had today. "Just… Don't start something with Daphne, okay? I'm trying my best to put all of our differences to bed… Give me some time, that's all I ask. It's important that we all stick together, because we know what's coming, don't we?"

Hermione nodded slowly, but she was still upset with his outburst. Brilliant, another upset witch. I'm just going out of my way to make my own life harder, aren't I?

"Bye, Ronald," Hermione said, walking past Ron without sparing him another glance. And there she goes. At least I know she won't skip the morning run; she takes her commitments seriously.

He drew in another breath; Hermione would understand one day. Daphne's behaviour was obviously getting to her, so Ron knew that he needed to put an end to that first and foremost, which meant that a painful conversation was in order. Just do it, old boy. Soon, it will be in everyone's best interest to work together, and I don't want my friends being shunned because of their innate snobbish behaviour.

Ron began making his way towards the Slytherin common room, alone. There was so much to do, and so little time… But he would not fall to despair, he would keep moving forward until he physically couldn't anymore. I'll talk to her after the training session, once I can get her alone. And, I'll be gentle and soft-spoken. I will stay in control of myself.

---

Wednesday 3rd March, 1994 (The Girls' Dorms – Nearly Dinner)

Ron knocked on their door and waited; he already knew that this was going to go badly for him.

Millicent had skipped the training session, and in doing so; she had given people reason to talk. Someone right under Ron wasn't following his rules, which put him in a rather troublesome spot. And oddly enough, Millicent had returned to the common room near the end of the training session, covered in dirt and sweat. She had trained elsewhere, no doubt wishing to avoid Ron at all costs. Daphne was not happy, I could tell… Especially when Crabbe and Goyle rocked up… How is any of this my fault? She's finding reasons to hate me, that's what it feels like. I resent it-

The door finally swung open, revealing Pansy and her eye-catching outfit. Ron's eyes immediately noticed how short her skirt was, he could see half-way up her thighs with ease. Further down, she was wearing knee-high socks, but they did little to add modesty to her aesthetic.

"Hello, stranger," Pansy greeted huskily, leaning against the frame with a cheeky smile on her face. "Come here often, do you?"

"Whenever I want a headache," Ron replied dully, his eyes still fixed on her legs. "Pansy, you'll catch a cold. Please, put on something more… modest…"

"Don't be a Daphne, Ron," Pansy rolled her eyes, standing upright again. "You don't like my skirt? I ordered two sizes down, just for you."

She then did a small twirl, but Ron quickly looked away before he saw what she was wearing underneath it. Bloody hell, I'm sending her to a mental ward tomorrow. They can Obliviate all traces of Witch Weekly from her head-

"You looked away?" Pansy asked as soon as she saw him. "Ron… You're hurting my self-image…" I don't even know what that means. "You really don't like this outfit?" I like it too much, that's the fucking problem.

"It's not that," Ron looked back to her, also noticing how skin-tight her black sweater was. Leaves barely anything to the imagination… Yeah, she's going to bring trouble to my front door. I can smell shite coming from a mile away, now.

"Then, what is it?" Pansy asked, her hands finding her hips.

"Pansy, people like to talk in this school," Ron said, trying to be subtle about it. "You know they do, because you're one of them-"

"I do it for the group," Pansy said quickly.

"Uh-huh, I'm sure, Pans," Ron nodded along, not believing her for a second. "Do you really want them spreading more rumours about you? I've already heard a few things that nearly set me off-"

"Like what?" Pansy asked.

"Apparently, you've sucked someone off, now," Ron said, remembering what he had overheard at the party between two older Gryffindor witches.

"Ugh, the girls at this school are all jealous slags!" Pansy groaned, turning around and marching into the room. "Come on, Ron… I'm going to change, you want to see Daphne, right?" Wow, I actually pulled that off? She's going to change?

Ron followed Pansy inside and shut the door, looking around hesitantly until his eyes became glued to Tracey's empty bed. It was perfectly made; all the pillows were in their right places and the sheets looked immaculate. I wonder if the girls are keeping it like this for when Tracey comes back.

"Daphne, Ron wants a word," Pansy called, knocking on the bathroom door.

"Ron?! He's here?!" came Daphne's voice from behind the door. "You didn't let him in, did you?!" Um… Perhaps?

"No, of course not, silly," Pansy lied outright. What the fuck? "Just hurry up, please."

Pansy then walked back over to Ron, a sly smirk on her face. Now what?

"Guess it's just us," Pansy hummed. "Since I need to change, and the bathroom is occupied; I'll have to ask you to turn around, Ron. Though, I'm sure I wouldn't notice if you decide to take a peek-"

"Where is the other one?" Ron asked, not interested in Pansy's flirting. "I don't see any traces of her."

"Millie?" Pansy cleared her throat, looking slightly startled. "Oh… She um… She showered first, and went to the Great Hall without us. You know how she's been eating alone, lately?" Yes, I've heard… She's really pushing my fucking buttons. If Daphne puts this on me, I'll lose it.

Ron said nothing, remaining silent in order to not upset Pansy. He knew that she wasn't fond of his temper, and he didn't want to ruin her good mood. Even if she needs to be focusing on her life, and not these stupid games.

"Get changed into something else, I'll go wait outside," Ron said, heading back towards the door. "I really did like the outfit, though. It looked perfect on you." There, that should brighten her mood again.

"Really?" Pansy asked, sounding rather confident already. "I'll keep that in mind, Ron." I'm sure you will, but it won't matter because I'm submitting you tomorrow.

Ron exited the room and leaned against the wall across from the door, he would just wait here in order to not set Daphne off. I need her to stop harassing Hermione, she's even goading Pansy into it unintentionally. It's going too far.

Ron waited another five minutes before the door swung open again, and Pansy stepped outside wearing jeans and a thick, white sweater. I like this look better, she looks really cute, now. Pansy shot Ron a knowing smile, winked, and then strutted off to join the boys for dinner. Mental witch…

"Ron, you can come in," came Daphne's voice, and Ron wasted no time in going back inside. Just do it, don't procrastinate, or, hesitate. That's not you, anymore.

Daphne was brushing her long hair, her eyes fixed on his reflection. She looked guarded, but at the same time, utterly indifferent to whoever was around her. Ron wasn't used to being seen that way, and he couldn't deny that it cut deep.

"What is it, Ron?" Daphne asked, going back to focusing on her hair.

"I'll just come out and say it," Ron started. "You need to leave Hermione alone, Daphne."

"Pardon?" Daphne immediately frowned. Fuck… Wasn't I supposed to be subtler? Damn imbecile.

"Just please, don't fight me," Ron almost pleaded, it just came out of him. "I don't want another argument… I just want us all working together, and for that to happen; I need to make the trio feel more involved. I'm not trying to spite you, okay? I'm trying to help you…"

Daphne went quiet, staring at him from the mirror with a thoughtful look. Ron waited for her response, taking in steady breaths to regain his composure. He hated losing control, and around Daphne; that happened almost constantly.

"Does 'all' involve Millie?" Daphne finally asked. Merlin, fucking kill me, please.

"I haven't excluded her in any way," Ron sighed out, rubbing his forehead. "Daphne-"

"You did something to her, I know it," Daphne said, her voice firm. "She's becoming a loner, Ron… That's what your silence is doing. You're undoing everything she's worked so hard to achieve-"

"I'm not doing anything!" Ron couldn't help but snap, making Daphne flinch. "Why are you blaming me for everything?!"

"Don't shout at me!" Daphne snapped back, shooting out of her chair.

"Stop blaming me for her acting this way!" Ron countered, feeling his face turn red. Fuck it! I'm not going to let her put this on me! "She feels ashamed of herself, that's why she's gone into hiding! Like a fucking coward-!"

"She was fine until you came back!" Daphne spat out, her face pinching in anger. "You trying to bring those two apes into the fold won't change anything! It's only going to split us apart further! But you never fucking listen, Ron!"

"You… You are so fucking annoying…" Ron's voice began shaking, he was already feeling the urge to slap some sense into her.

"You're annoying too," Daphne scoffed, always eager to get the last word in. I'm done, fuck this nonsense. I don't need it.

Ron turned to leave, but Daphne quickly moved into his way.

"Daphne-"

"Why can't you just talk to her?!" Daphne demanded, looking even more pissed off because he tried to leave. "Why are you both so eager to keep doing this to the rest of us?! You're making us all miserable, Ron!" That fits, Weasley… You do make people miserable.

Ron tried to get a hold of his agitated breathing, but hearing her go off at him was starting to have an odd effect on him. He was beginning to get upset, to the point where he knew he was going to start shaking from the stress. I've fought a God and won… Why is this happening to me?!

"You want her to leave her parents behind, don't you?!" Daphne was going on and on. "You're both regressing as people! She's gone back to being the runt of the litter, while you're living in your own head! When was the last time you spoke with Madam Pomfrey, Ron?!"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Ron managed, feeling more and more cornered. "You're the only person stressing me out…" That was cheap, Ron. What's the matter with you?

Daphne's jaw clenched, and she visibly regained her composure with great discipline. Oh, fuck…

"Get out," Daphne said coldly, making Ron shrink. What's wrong with me? I can't let her talk to me like this- "I'm done with you. Go and make someone else miserable, Weasley. Go to Crabbe and Goyle, I'm putting an end to this right now. Millie will get on with her life, but she will stay with us, and as for you… Well, you can do whatever you want. As always."

He wasn't lost for words often, but right now, he felt that couldn't speak even if he wanted to. Why did they all think so lowly of him? What did I do to earn this impression?

He knew, though… He knew of his many sins, and he knew that everyone would be happier without him meddling about in their lives. He was a walking, talking source of misery, and Daphne had finally come to realize it. Was only a matter of time, Weasley…

Ron didn't even realize that he had left the room, he was completely disorientated. Lost. Step by step, he neared the common room, loud chatter mixing into the sound of white noise. His nostrils and cheeks were trembling from 'the shakes', as if he were freezing to death, and in a way, he was… Cold sweat was running down his back, soaking his shirt and making it stick to him under his robes.

Once he had crossed into sight, he attempted to regain some control, clenching his jaw and hands, and although that did help a little; it was not enough as his hurt was clearly written on his face. Through blurry vision, he could make out figures staring at him. Whispering about him. Their voices echoed around him, a tornado of words that was quickly giving him a headache. Just get used to it, this is what you deserve for all the things you've done. You made this bed, now, sleep in it.

Ron kept walking, until finally, he found himself curled up on his bed, safe within his Sanctuary. I'll probably have nightmares tonight, as well… His eyes welled up at the injustice of it all, but he stubbornly refused to cry. Instead, he just pushed his pain further in, holding onto it in the hopes of unleashing it on his enemies one day.

---

Draco Malfoy's POV

Saturday 6th March, 1994 (The Seventh Floor - Afternoon)

It was over…

Whatever this group was, it was now permanently splintered. Greengrass had essentially taken over at this point, and somehow, Bulstrode had been convinced to re-join them. She was still uncomfortable and quiet, but she was no longer avoiding her friends.

Well, save for one friend: Ronald Weasley.

Weasley had become even more distant over the last few days, often skipping classes and using his conditions as the excuse. He still joined them for their runs in the morning, but even when his body was right in front of them, his mind was actually elsewhere. Whatever happened between him and Greengrass, it's changed him. This group is indeed falling apart, and I know exactly where to fall. Right next to Weasley.

Draco held no love for Greengrass, though he could understand where she was coming from. Bulstrode and Weasley were both being stubborn, no doubt about it; however, Draco found himself on Weasley's side, much like Theo and Blaise.

Bulstrode had made her own bed, but for some reason; Weasley was being forced to sleep in it. This bothered Draco, which was alarming in of itself. Weasley was a rude brute, but he was also supportive and endearing… Draco hated to admit it, but he was beginning to enjoy the redhead's company, especially as of late.

Weasley treated Draco like a person, not just an unwanted guest. But not anymore, though… Because Greengrass has forgotten her place. If I were Weasley, I'd sort her out without hesitation. I wouldn't just let her take power from me, in anything.

Draco made his way into the Sanctuary; his mind was finally made up. It was time to choose a camp, and Draco would be the first on Weasley's side. As bizarre as it was for a Malfoy to side with a Weasley, Draco found himself not caring about such tripe at this point. The Old Ways had helped destroy his Family, so clearly, the Malfoys had erred at some point. It was when we sided with the Dark Lord. My grandfather and my father were both blinded by their belief in Blood-Supremacy, and now, we're all undone.

Draco fidgeted with his Black Signet Ring, his eyes searching the large room for a head of red hair.

"Weasley?!" Draco called, but there was no response. Odd, where is he if he's not here?

Draco walked over to the couches, jumping slightly once he was there in order to catch a glimpse of the bed. Also empty. Draco frowned to himself, he would need to wait until Weasley returned, which could be hours from now. Where does he disappear off to? Damn, I guess I'll go and get my homework. Might as well finish my Transfiguration essay while I wait, McGonagall gives the most dreadful assignments.

As Draco turned to leave, he noticed that the coffee table was covered in news-clippings and folders full of parchments. What is this? Is Weasley up to something? Unable to help himself, Draco walked over to the table and picked up the nearest news-clipping.

"Ilvermorny's Heart; the Sacred Snakewood Tree…" Draco read the title, cocking an eyebrow.

He then looked back down, and much to his surprise; every single piece of parchment was dedicated to this Sacred Tree. Now, this… is interesting… Let's have a read, shall we? Maybe I'll figure out what Weasley's been up to in his personal haven.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 6th March, 1994 (The Rookery – Late Afternoon)

"Thanks for letting me have lunch with you," Ron said to Pandora, though his eyes were fixed on Lysander.

The little Lovegood was enjoying Ron's belly-rub, wiggling about and making goofy sounds of enjoyment from within his crib. Ron couldn't help but smile at him, he was the most precious thing Ron had ever seen.

"I'm glad you came today, he wasn't behaving so well yesterday," Pandora said from the doorway, sounding rather exhausted.

"That must mean he already likes me more than you," Ron shot a smirk back.

"Oh, no doubt," Pandora smiled, her eyes not as sharp as usual. "I only birthed him, nothing more."

"Exactly, you've done your part," Ron said. "Now, he wants me."

"Then, by all means, take him back to Hogwarts with you," Pandora chuckled. "Xeno and I could use a good night's sleep, Luna too."

"I'm guessing they won't be back for a while?" Ron asked, and Pandora shook her head.

"Luna has to go back to Hogwarts, but you know how Xeno is… 'Just one small trip, Pandora. Only a few hours'…" Pandora then let out an exaggerated sigh. "I should really wise up by now." I don't think you want to, you all but sent them packing, I bet.

"Well, I'm looking forward to seeing her again," Ron said, looking back to Lysander. "Goodbye for now, Lysander."

Carefully, he planted a kiss on Lysander's small forehead, chuckling at the baby's soft, playful slaps. His hands are so soft and tiny!

"I love you the most, don't tell anyone," Ron whispered before pulling back, shooting the smiling baby a wink. He knows, I'm certain of it.

With his visit at an end, Ron decided to head over to Travers Manor; Emilia had sent him a mysterious message this morning via owl. She had asked him to come alone, and with the Portkey she had provided. Knowing her, this isn't even important. She just takes everything to the extreme.

"It was good of you to come, my sweet," Pandora smiled at him as he neared the door.

"I said I'd visit, didn't I?" Ron shrugged, smiling back.

Pandora responded by staring at him, her easy smile fixed in place. What's she doing?

"Something is bothering you, Ron," Pandora suddenly said. Where's that fucking Portkey?! "You seem… sad… for lack of a better word. Can I ask you what's wrong?"

"Just the usual," Ron shrugged again, averting his gaze. This new dynamic… It suits me just fine. I'm happy staying away from people, I only have to come out when something needs doing. It's simple, and it's in everyone's best interest. No more misery from me, that's for sure.

"You can tell me," Pandora insisted, using her fingers to comb some of Ron's errant hair back into place. "I really like this new haircut, by the way. What made you shave most of the sides and the back, but keep the hair on top?" Pansy Parkinson, the queen of fashion and the matron of not giving a damn.

"It's all the craze right now," Ron quoted Pansy, not sounding very interested. "Does look wicked, though, right? I've even noticed a few stares, lately." And by a few, I mean a fuck-load, because people can't mind their own business.

"Does this bother you, Ron?" Pandora asked. "These stares?" Bloody hell, she's good… Now what?

"I'm the school cripple, now, Pandora," Ron sighed out. "Can we just leave it? Talking about it makes it worse, I prefer getting on with my life because it keeps me focused."

"You are no cripple, Ronald Weasley," Pandora said, standing up straight and putting her palm on his cheek.

She looked awfully serious all of a sudden, her motherly instincts had revived her sharpness.

"I'm being seen as one, regardless," Ron countered. "So, what does it matter?"

"It matters a great deal what you think," Pandora told him.

"I think that people pity me, and that I can't even eat without noticing dozens of eyes on me," Ron said. I still have to show up at the Great Hall every now and then, or, the Professors get upset. At least they know that the Hogwarts Elves are taking care of me, they just don't know that I'm paying the Elves a little extra on the side, now. It pays to have friends, especially friends that can Apparate in and out of Hogwarts whenever they please.

"It will get better, my love," Pandora gently pulled him into a hug, rubbing his back encouragingly. "And if you ever want to eat a meal without being stared at, come home. Your mother has been inviting me over constantly, I think she wants Lysander for herself."

Ron smiled a little at that, feeling better knowing that Lysander was being cared for by everyone. Even Lord Greengrass has sent a bucket full of toys for him, while dad's been carving him toy Aurors like he did for Bill and Charlie. I'm still winning, though. Which reminds me…

"Oh, before I leave, there'll be another delivery tomorrow," Ron pulled back, and Pandora blinked in surprise. "I got him a suit! They make them for babies, Pandora! He'll have to grow into it, though-"

"Merlin, Ron, you're spoiling him already," Pandora said, half-scolding and half-amused. "If you keep sending him toys and treats, he'll start expecting it. We have to be a little responsible, all right?" Oh… She's right… What if he turns out like my friends?

The thought displeased him greatly, which only made him feel like a piece of shit for being so bitter and full of anger. I'm a proper cunt, but still… I don't want him to take things for granted, that's how a person becomes complacent and weak.

"Isn't he a little too young to remember these things, though?" Ron tried, it genuinely made him feel better to order things for Lysander, but the look on Pandora's face was absolute. "Okay… I'll slow down on the ordering… You're right, of course."

"Moderation is always important," Pandora said, smiling fully once again. "Go on, then. This old woman won't keep you any further-"

"Sod off with that," Ron snorted, giving her a kiss on the cheek before heading out. "Old woman, my arse." This was a nice break; I should do it more often. Just spending a few minutes with Lysander is worth the trip.

---

Thirty Minutes Later

Ron was starting to lose his patience; he had been sitting in Emilia's living room for the last thirty minutes. Lady Travers was out on an errand, which was odd given her invitation.

Several more minutes passed, and just as Ron decided to leave; Emilia entered the living room with a confident stride. Fucking finally!

"Apologies for the wait, Ronald," Emilia stopped and greeted. "But business with Goblins is always… difficult. Still, that is no excuse-"

"It's all right," Ron stopped her; he was more interested in this business with Goblins. "You're not in any trouble, are you?"

"No, I am not," Emilia assured him, smiling faintly. "The truth is that I had something commissioned on your behalf, for your birthday." Excuse me?

Ron was visibly surprised; she had bought him a birthday present? Is she dying? When did she start being so nice to me? Wait… She needed Goblins for this item? What did she get me? Ron felt slight childish glee at the prospect of owning a Goblin-Steel sword, but he was quick to remind himself of his manners. Still, she really got me a gift? Why-?

"You looked shocked," Emilia noted, cocking an eyebrow. Oh, shit!

"I'm just touched," Ron recovered, and Emilia looked pleased with the response. "You really got me something for my birthday?"

"Come," Emilia turned on her heel, gesturing him to follow her. "I would like to give it to you, now."

Ron quickly followed after her, matching her pace by her side within seconds. He stared at her face, noticing that she looked… brighter? No, happier. More content. Is it because of what we did? Ron found himself feeling a little confused, he was trying his hardest to forget the things he had seen and done, but Emilia was empowered by the event.

Maybe he needed to embrace what he had done? Maybe that would help him move on?

"Is something wrong?" Emilia asked, slightly turning her head to meet Ron's gaze.

"I'm just admiring your jawline," Ron replied, deciding to meditate on his thoughts. "I can't believe I've never complimented you on your looks before, Emilia-"

"Stop that," Emilia looked forward again, straightening her back. I got to her?! Yes! "Admiring my jawline… Sharp-tongue rascal." Rascal? What the fuck? Which century are you from?

"Where did they find you?" Ron had to ask, grinning. "Beautiful, fierce, unyielding… Are you single, by any chance?"

Emilia used her thumb to click her sword out of its sheath, showing only a sliver of the gleaming Goblin-Steel. I should shut up; I understand that, now.

"Fair enough," Ron looked forward, clearing his throat.

"Hmph," Emilia smirked, clicked her sword back in.

Emilia led them to her study, closing the door behind them and gesturing Ron towards the large, polished table. Oh, is that it?! A wooden box sat atop the desk, and upon closer inspection, Ron realized that the box itself looked awfully expensive. Polished mahogany? And the lock looks like it's made from silver!

"Can I open it?" Ron asked, eyeing the expensive object with hesitation. "I hope you didn't spend too much on me, I don't really know what I've done to deserve it."

"It is impolite to question a kind gesture," Emilia said, gesturing Ron to open the box. "Go on, there's no need to be shy. I want you to have these, they will help keep you safe from our many enemies." What did she get me? Now, I'm really curious.

Ron nodded slowly, carefully opening the box in an attempt to not scratch it. As he pulled the lid back, the light from the candles reflected brightly off of the Goblin-Steel bracers inside. Ron had to take a step back, and as his eyes adjusted, they widened from the sheer excitement of receiving such a gift. No fucking way! She had armour made for me! Actual fucking armour?!

Before he knew it, he was all but breathing on the bracers; his eyes studying the very simple design with ever-increasing admiration. Simple, but elegant. Classic Emilia Travers!

"I take it that you like them?" Emilia asked, her faint smile in place.

"They're brilliant!" Ron beamed, looking back to her. "I… Thank you, Emilia. I don't know what to say-"

Emilia raised her hand and shook her head.

"There's no need," she said. "Do you want me to show you how to put them on?" Fuck, yes! I've always wanted to be a knight with actual armour!

"Do I just put them on top?" Ron asked excitedly.

"No, they are incredibly thin for a reason," Emilia replied, handing him one of the bracers.

It was surprisingly light, and Ron could already tell that these would not hinder his movements in any way.

"Goblin-Steel…" Ron murmured, once again entranced by how flawless the metal was.

"It's light, yet very durable, and I asked for Manticore hide to be used for the straps," Emilia used the other bracer to show Ron everything. "Again, to keep it manageable but durable, Manticore hide is perfect for that. Now, pull back one of your sleeves, I'll put it on for you."

Ron froze for a moment; did she want him to show her his forearm. Relax, Ron. Try to find a way out of showing her your skin. It's that simple.

"The shirt as well?" Ron asked, keeping his voice even.

"Yes, otherwise, the outline will show through your coat," Emilia replied, opening the straps of the bracer. Brilliant, that didn't go as planned.

Ron drew in a deep breath; he certainly didn't want to be rude during a moment like this. She had just bought him the most expensive gift of his life, and she had done it simply out of goodwill. She is my friend, and most of my other friends have seen my scars a few times. I have nothing to fear, I know I can trust her.

Ron pulled off his coat, placing it gently on the chair before unbuttoning his shirt's left sleeve. Nothing to fear at all. She isn't going to say a word, because she will understand. Once his scarred forearm was out in the open, he presented it to Emilia silently.

Emilia said nothing, not even looking surprised in the fucking slightest. She continued on with her work, giving him instructions as fastened the bracer on his forearm.

She had no idea how much her lack of reaction meant to Ron, nor did she need to. I'll treat the Travers Family as my own from now on, I promise-

"See? It shouldn't move about at all," Emilia continued, shaking his arm slightly. "These will stop most Spells, but I have to warn you, Ron; they are not designed to withstand certain Curses."

"The Killing Curse?" Ron asked, and Emilia gave a nod.

"They might withstand it, but I would not risk it," Emilia replied. Understood.

Ron looked back at his arm, moving it about in order to feel the difference. It's light and snug, but my arm does feel a bit heavier. I'll get used to it, though.

"Emilia, these are just…" Ron was lost for words. Show her some Weasley gratitude, Ron. She's earned it. "Thank you, I love them!"

"I'm glad-" Emilia started, but she stopped abruptly when Ron wrapped his arms around her.

He gave her a tight squeeze, almost laughing when she squeaked from the unfamiliar feeling of a bear-hug. Ron had expected her to shove him away, but fortunately, she just stood there like a frozen statue; letting Ron show her his appreciation by crushing her bones.

When Ron finally pulled back, it was to the sight of a tensed-up Emilia. Don't laugh, she can still kill you if she wants. But don't apologize either, it was only a hug, after all. Just wait and see what she says-

"Right…" Emilia suddenly cleared her throat. "Put on the other one yourself, I want to see you do it properly." Why am I not surprised?

"Sure," Ron smiled widely. "Let me just pull back my sleeve." I can't wait to try these tonight! The P-12 is in for a nasty surprise!

---

Draco Malfoy's POV

Saturday 6th March, 1994 (The Sanctuary – Evening)

It was almost time for Weasley to train the sixth years, and yet, he was nowhere to be found. Draco had no doubt that Weasley would return in time, of course; the redhead had the ability to never go back on his word, which was a rare trait within Slytherin.

As for Draco himself, he would wait up here until Weasley could arrive to answer his many questions. This Sacred Tree business was no doubt a ploy to help Tracey, and Draco wanted to know why Weasley had not shared this with the class. No doubt because of Bulstrode, she's ruined a good thing for all of us. Without Weasley, that group won't last long. He might as well be the heart of our little group.

The door creaked open, and Draco immediately shot up to his feet and faced the door. It was Weasley, and surprisingly enough, he looked to be in a good mood. What's got his spirits so high? Is this also about Tracey? Has he really found a way to help her?

"Draco?" Weasley stopped as soon as he saw the blonde wizard, his smile faltering. Stop using my name! I have not given you the right!

"Weasley," Draco kept his composure. "You're in a good mood."

"Observant, aren't you?" Weasley chuckled, starting their game of bickering and teasing.

"Someone has to be," Draco said coldly. "You left your project out for everyone to see, that's pretty careless of you."

Weasley looked confused for a moment, but then, his eyes darted towards the coffee table. There it is. I win. Draco smirked, while Weasley was clearly chastising himself.

"That's for me," Weasley said suddenly, tapping his forehead. "For my brain-damage, I want to see if I can be healed by those leaves."

"What about Tracey?" Draco asked, his smirk growing. "She could be healed as well, these leaves sound rather powerful to me. I'm certain my Godfather could help, no one knows how to handle ingredients quite like him."

Weasley's expression grew increasingly indifferent, but then, ever so slowly, it began to darken, much to Draco's regret. Damn, I need to get this smirk off my face, first! And stop running your mouth before he slaps it off!

"I'm not going to tell anyone," Draco came out and said it. "You clearly had no intention to share this with the rest of us, and I'll respect that decision."

"If you wanted to respect my decisions, you wouldn't have snooped in the first place," Weasley commentated. "Tell me what you've figured out, now."

"You want one of those for Tracey, right?" Draco started. "But it's impossible to get one, because the tree was Cursed… by the Dark Lord…"

"You read everything?" Weasley's left eye twitched.

"You left it all out," Draco shrugged. "I'd say it was careless of you, but we both know that's not it. You've literally stopped caring about what's going on in the rest of the castle. Am I correct? Aside from your projects, that is."

"Pretty much…" Weasley muttered, pulling out his wand, and with a flick, packing up the files into their respective boxes.

"Who gathered all of this for you?" Draco asked. "Your mercenaries?"

Draco couldn't deny it to himself; he felt envious of Weasley's power. Now more than ever, simply because Weasley had his own small army. That's real power, the sort father always spoke about.

"You are very interested in my business, Draco," Weasley noted, sitting down and gesturing Draco to do the same. "I want to relax a little before I have to work with the sixth years, let's catch up a bit, eh? I've missed you."

Draco felt irked, and pleased, to hear that.

"You can tell me what you're planning," Draco said confidently, taking a seat across from Weasley.

"I'm going to trust you not to tell anyone," Weasley said, becoming rather serious. "This is definitely a test-"

"Why are you so dramatic?" Draco asked, feeling more irked than pleased, now.

"I've been hurt before…" Weasley forced his lips to tremble. Don't laugh, can't afford to give him the satisfaction.

"I'll be sure to avoid hurting you any further," Draco drawled. "Can you start, now? Before you bore us both to sleep?"

"Are you trying to copy Professor Snape?" Weasley snorted, and Draco felt his face heat up. I hate him so much that it scares even me. "You can't copy Professor Snape, Draco… That man is iconic, you see? Cannot be duplicated. Plus, you're a bit of a ponce, whereas Snape's prick dangles between his knees-"

"Just tell me the damn plan," Draco hissed, reaching his limit with the redhead. I swear, speaking to him gives me nightmares of the most vivid horrors. Who taught him to be so… vulgar?!

"Tsk, don't be like that," Weasley sniggered, then suddenly becoming serious again. "On my mother's health, though, if you tell anyone, I'll make you run around the Black Lake naked the next morning." Noted.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 6th March, 1994 (The Sanctuary – After Dinner)

His carelessness was still grating his nerves, how could he just leave London's findings out in the open? Draco's right, I've completely stopped thinking about anything but my goals. At last. I just need to learn to be more careful.

Ron had told Draco everything, and now that they had eaten; they could discuss what needed to be done next. Draco's opinions were a breath of fresh air, almost. However, Ron could see that Draco was still short-sighted, as he always advocated for hostile actions to prove his 'strength'. Ron mostly ignored such ideas; his mind was already made up. I'll approach as a friend, and hopefully, cut a deal with Headmaster Harkin.

"Even Lord Greengrass was rejected, Weasley," Draco repeated. "What chance do you have to convince Harkin to hand you a leaf?"

"I can be very persuasive," Ron shrugged, and Draco frowned in response. "What? I can't go there and demand a leaf, that'll paint me as an entitled brat from the start."

"So, you're going to pretend that you're not an entitled brat?" Draco asked. What a cunt.

"The pot calling the kettle black," Ron said, cocking an eyebrow. "If you're so gung-ho to piss off school full of wizards and witches, why don't you go there and demand a leaf?"

Draco's frown grew, and he crossed his arms defiantly as he leaned back in his chair.

"You're the one with the army," Draco reminded him. What?

"That's not how things work, mate," Ron sighed out. "How would I smuggle them into Ilvermorny? And even if I manage that, then what? We go and hurt innocent people?"

"Use them within negotiations, you dolt," Draco said. "Show Harkin that you have the strength to back up your words."

"And the Aurors of the States?" Ron asked. "When they come to bend me over, should I send them your way, instead?"

"So, that army of yours is just for show?" Draco asked, sounding awfully smug. If you saw Artyom, you'd shit yourself.

"Their main job is to protect the Werewolves," Ron replied dully. "Draco, there are more important things than showing off how powerful you are. I'll get a leaf, but not like the Dark Lord." The Headmaster is right, I should talk before raising my wand. "I know what I'm doing, mate."

Draco drew in a sharp breath before standing up, surprising Ron a little. He's leaving?

"If you've already made up your mind, then so be it," Draco said. "I won't tell anyone about this, Weasley." Oh, good lad.

"Thank you," Ron said, deciding to put his faith in Draco. If he does tell someone, then I'm letting Professor Snape take over. No more second chances.

Draco just stood there, not moving nor looking away from Ron. Um… What's he doing? Draco slowly reached into his robes, hesitantly pulling out an envelope. Motherfucker… Ron, just say no. It's too risky-

"I haven't heard from her in a while," Draco started, staring down at the letter. Shit… "Weasley, if you could help me again, I won't forget it. I'll pay you back, you have my word."

Ron was oddly pleased to see Draco asking for help in a humble manner for once, maybe some of his lessons were beginning to stick? I can't say no to him, now… He's finally stepping up a little. Not to mention that Ron felt a little sorry for Draco, especially now that his relationship with Pandora was on the mend.

"Hand it over…" Ron said, putting his gloved hand forward. "I'll deliver it tonight, mate."

Draco wasted no time in walking over and placing the letter within Ron's hand, his relief was written on his face. Ronald Weasley; professional burglar… Still, it'll be nice to see Kreacher, again.

"Will you bring back a response?" Draco asked.

"Sure, but I will read through it myself," Ron replied uncompromisingly. "Now, go on, I'll try my best not to wake you when I bring back a response."

Draco gave a nod, taking slow steps back.

"Thank you, Weasley," Draco said, sounding somewhat grateful for once. "And I meant what I said, I owe you one." You owe me many, mate.

"You owe me one," Ron agreed, pocketing the letter. And I'll remember it. No more freebies.

---

Sunday 7th March, 1994 (Twelve Grimmauld Place – Past Midnight)

"Silence the room, Kreacher," Ron whispered.

"At once, Lord Weasley," Kreacher whispered back.

"Ahem," Ron cleared his throat. Lord Weasley? Again?

"Ron…" Kreacher corrected himself, though the name sounded alien on his tongue. Still better than 'Lord Weasley', that title feels like a slap in the face sometimes.

As Kreacher went about his task, Ron snuck over to the bed. Please, be decent, or, this will be so awkward. Narcissa Malfoy was sleeping soundly in Regulus' bed, and surprisingly, she was wearing a rather comfortable looking nightie. The Order's prisoner, my arse. She's clearly being catered to by Sirius, because he's too soft to understand that this woman is a monster.

Ron wondered if Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy had ever attended the Carrow Twins' festivals, torturing and murdering chained Muggles in order to feel almighty. To feel truly untouchable. The thought put a dark frown on Ron's face, but he controlled his rage for Draco's sake. He still has a chance to be different, to be better. If I hurt his mother, he'll turn away from me and the Order. Control.

"Wake up," Ron said, shaking the sleeping witch by the shoulder.

Her eyes opened immediately, and she nearly let out a startled yelp, but Ron was quick to draw his wand and silence her. None of that, I'm not in the mood to be screamed at. Once she had come to her senses, Ron undid the Silencing Charm with little effort.

"You?!" Narcissa hissed immediately, suddenly pulling up her blanket in order to cover herself. "What you doing in here?!"

"Your son sent me," Ron pulled out the letter, noticing that her expression changed almost instantaneously.

"Draco?" Narcissa whispered to herself, her guard lowering.

But then, she began to study Ron with a rather critical eye, as if she didn't trust his word. She doesn't want the letter? Because I will throw it away.

"Take it," Ron offered her the letter. "I'll even take your response back to him."

"Why are you helping him?" Narcissa all but demanded. She just sounds so fucking smug all the time, like she's owed special treatment simply due to her birth. No wonder Draco turned out as he did, he was just mimicking his cunt parents.

"He is my friend," Ron replied simply, relishing the shocked look on her face. "That's right, he and I have become very close, as of late." Well, we don't hate each other, at least, but she doesn't need to know that. "He comes to me for help, for advice, for guidance… I'm teaching him all sorts of new ideas."

Narcissa's bottom lip trembled with fury, while her eyes tried to burn a hole through Ron's face. He won't be anything like you, the Malfoy Family is done with Blood-Supremacy. We are all done with it. All this senseless hatred has to come to a stop before it's too late, we have to be better than we are. Now, let's get this over with, I have to get some rest for tomorrow.

"Take. The. Letter," Ron said, losing some of his patience. "You have twenty minutes to write a response. I'm leaving with, or, without it."

---

Twenty Minutes Later

"Time's up," Ron said, looking at his Rolex. "It's been twenty minutes-"

"I'm finished," Narcissa said coldly, standing up and marching over to him. "Here, you want to read through it, I presume?"

"You presume right," Ron replied, taking the letter and looking through it. Just words of encouragement and love, and… What's this? "Don't forget you who, my Dragon. Don't forget where your roots are buried."

Ron couldn't help but laugh, he was definitely going to use Magic to erase this part. He's Ours, now. Not yours. Narcissa clenched her jaw, glaring at Ron with utter disgust for daring to laugh at her.

"Vile boy," she whispered under her breath. "You have an evil soul." At least, I have one, you hag.

"Again, the pot calling the kettle black," Ron remarked, and Narcissa cocked an eyebrow. "Never mind… I'll pass this along, now. You can go back to sleep, in your comfortable nightie."

Narcissa pulled her robe together, frowning at him as he looked her over. You should be locked away in a metal cell, just like you locked away Professor Snape. The Order is soft, just as Emilia said.

"Kreacher, take me home, please," Ron turned to leave.

"Kreacher is ready… Ron…" Kreacher bowed, while Ron walked over to him. Better, now, we need to get rid of this bowing tripe.

"Don't bow too low, you'll throw your back out," Ron joked, and Kreacher smiled creepily. A face only a mother could love, though it is growing on me. He's an all right bloke, now.

Ron offered Kreacher his hand, looking back to Narcissa. She was staring at him with a pinched face, as if she had just smelled dung. Let me guess, you want me to kick Kreacher around because that's Pure-Blood custom? Get fucked, bitch.

"Ready, Ron?" Kreacher asked, his voice fighting him.

"Let's go," Ron gave a nod, and immediately, the world burst into bright lights.

Ron's body shifted and twisted, and then, he felt the soles of his feet hit solid ground. Every muscle under his waste went limp, and Ron crumbled to the floor before he could even process what was going on.

A wave of nausea hit him, and Ron quickly turned his head and gagged, ignoring Kreacher's worried hands trying to help him up. The old Elf was saying something, but Ron couldn't hear him over the sound of his own ears ringing. He felt disorientated, lost, and for a brief moment, he forgot where he was and what he was doing.

It took several minutes for Ron to begin regaining himself, finally hearing Kreacher's voice and realizing that the Elf was trying to heal him. Nothing happened the first time I Apparated, but the second time, I nearly die… Why?

"I'm all right, Kreacher," Ron finally managed. "You can stop."

"Lord Weasley, did Kreacher make a mistake?" Kreacher asked, his voice shaking.

"What? No, mate," Ron waved a dismissive hand, his head was still spinning. "I'm sick, you know that, right? You didn't do anything wrong, so please, don't beat yourself up."

Kreacher went silent, his massive, baggy eyes looking somewhat hollow. It is what it is, Kreacher. We all have burdens to bear, this is mine.

"Lord Weasley reminds Kreacher of Lord Black," Kreacher suddenly whispered, and Ron finally looked up. Lord Black?

"You don't mean Sirius, do you?" Ron asked, already knowing the answer.

"No, Lord Weasley," Kreacher shook his head. "Kreacher speaks of Lord Regulus."

"Why do I remind you of him?" Ron couldn't help but ask.

"Lord Regulus too died defying the Dark Lord," Kreacher replied, looking rather guilt-stricken. "Kreacher must lose another… friend…" Friend?! Progress, is that you?

Despite Kreacher's visible sadness, Ron felt a little better, though he didn't show it out in the open. Instead, he decided to share his thoughts with Kreacher, in the hopes of uplifting his spirit. I've thought about this plenty, and I feel like I have the answer, now.

"I won't be the only one who pays that price, Kreacher," Ron said, he did not fear dying anymore. "But some things… Some ideals… They are worth dying for. Freedom from tyranny is worth dying for. Regulus understood that at the end, I think. It's how he became so brave, it's how he managed to become one of the few people who actually managed to hurt the Dark Lord."

Kreacher nodded slowly, listening to Ron with rapt attention.

"The Dark Lord will take everything from us, what it means to be alive," Ron continued. "Our freedoms, our futures, our brothers and sisters… Even the Pure-Bloods who blindly follow him will lose everything, because he doesn't care for anyone but himself. A man like that can't be allowed to rule, Kreacher. He would serve only himself, at our expense. And… Because of his immortality, his tyranny will never end…"

Kreacher swallowed thickly at that, he was no doubt imagining a Wizarding World ruled by the Dark Lord.

"We have to be brave like Regulus was, Kreacher," Ron said, feeling lightheaded again, but pushing on. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Lord Weasley," Kreacher nodded, straightening up a little.

"Ron, please," Ron corrected, and Kreacher gave another nod.

"Ron," Kreacher repeated slowly before bowing in respect. We'll get there one day… I hope…

---

Daphne Greengrass' POV

Monday 8th March, 1994 (The Courtyard – After Classes)

"Pansy, you really ought to take more interest in this," Daphne urged, she was helping Pansy make a record of her many assets. Except, I'm doing most of the work, while Pansy's just enjoying the sun.

"Daph, I already told you that Carbey will take care of this for me," Pansy said, studying her freshly painted nails. "It's why we own House-Elves, so we don't have to do the boring work." If my father heard that, he'd have an aneurism.

"Your Elves can't run your businesses, Pansy," Daphne said, deciding to try something else. "Look! You own seven boutiques across Magical Europe! Why don't we start with them?"

"Daphne, why are you so eager to make me work?" Pansy asked, looking slightly annoyed. "I want to relax, today. The sun is out, the birds are singing, and I just ordered the most beautiful dress! It should be here tomorrow, want to help me put it on?"

Daphne couldn't help but feel frustrated with her friend; Pansy had everything Daphne wanted, and she couldn't even be bothered to figure out where her money was coming from." Easter Break is almost here, which means that I'll meet my grandparents soon. I'm not sure what to make of them, but if it all goes well; they'll be the Greengrass Family's ticket into Magical Germany. And, I'll ask father to give me control of our deals within Germany; I have to prove myself to him-

"What's the matter, now?" Pansy asked, studying Daphne's face. "You'll get wrinkles if you keep worrying, Daph. It'd be a shame, too, because your skin is gorgeous."

"Thanks," Daphne said, closing the folder in her lap. She's not interested, which will bite her in the arse later, no doubt. Maybe I should ask Theo to talk to her, he's better at persuading people than I am.

"So? What's bothering you?" Pansy asked, scooting closer to Daphne. "Tell me everything, I want to listen."

"Why are being so weird?" Daphne asked, noticing that Pansy had snaked her arm around Daphne's waist.

"I read in Witch Weekly that most witches just want to be heard, but wizards are complete dullards," Pansy started. Oh, no… "So, the fastest way to a witch's heart is to listen to her troubles."

"And why are you trying this on me?" Daphne had to ask.

"I'm seducing you," Pansy smirked, wagging her eyebrows.

"Stop that," Daphne snorted, but she quickly cleared her throat and regained herself.

"Well?" Pansy asked, resting her head on Daphne's shoulder. "What's wrong? You've been really tense, lately. Is it because of Ron?"

Daphne nearly cringed at the name, the guilt she felt for exploding their fight was literally killing her. Why did she become so venomous during their spats? It's because he never listens! Him and Millie…

"Do you feel like I chased Ron away?" Daphne whispered, not eager for anyone to overhear her.

"Oh, no," Pansy said quickly. "Daphne, he was already avoiding us, remember? He's been different since… You know…"

Daphne tensed up once again, just the thought of Ron standing over the railing sent anxiety throughout every inch of her body. How had she missed the signs? Was she an idiot? Or, was she too busy wallowing in her misery to notice that her boyfriend was not being himself? I read about depression in those bloody books that I bought. I thought I'd pick up any signs of trouble, if I just memorised those books…

Regardless of how she had missed Ron's deep depression, a part of Daphne blamed herself, which in turn filled her with anger and regret.

And now, she was causing Ron nothing but problems, even though she was only trying to help him. Daphne knew just how vindictive Ron was, and honestly, she feared for Millie when she remembered what Ron had done to himself after their spat. He's stopped talking to Madam Pomfrey as well… It's like he doesn't want to recover anymore, I hate it-

"I shouldn't have brought up Ron," Pansy suddenly said, turning her head to look into Daphne's eyes. "Sorry…"

"It's all right," Daphne drew in a sharp breath. Just give them some time, and then, try again. Ron will hate himself if Millie runs away, like I know she's planning to do. Her parents are sending her letters again, and she's become increasingly distant with us.

"I really miss Tracey…" Pansy whispered, her expression falling slightly. Me too, Pans. "I never really noticed how often she made us laugh… I'd give anything to hear one of her jokes."

"Me too," Daphne said, feeling guiltier for not visiting Tracey enough. "Me too-"

There was a blinding flash in the sky, followed by a streak of white-hot lightning. The bolt cracked with thunderous power, shooting into the sky, and, for a moment, making the castle glow with its splendour.

Both girls screamed and clutched each other, while the other students within the Courtyard started shouting over one another. Within the pandemonium, Daphne found the clarity to shoot up to her feet, holding Pansy's hand as if her life depended on it.

"What was that?!" Pansy shouted, looking up at the sky in dismay.

"It was a lightning strike!" Padma Patil replied, a flock of Ravenclaws around her. "I saw it! It must've hit Professor Hagrid's Hut!"

"It came from down there!" someone else yelled. Down there?! Someone must've-

And that's when it clicked; who else could have conjured up that lightning but Ron?

"Pansy, we have to go!" Daphne feared the worst, why would Ron use this Spell so close to Hogwarts?

He was forbidden from doing this by the Headmaster himself!

Daphne didn't wait to listen to Pansy's questions, she let go of her friend's hand and bolted for the bridge. In her head, she kept trying to come up with a logical reason as to why Ron would use such a dangerous Spell, but for the life of her; she just couldn't come up with a justification.

As she zoomed passed other students, all of them pointing towards Professor Hagrid's Hut below and shouting. Daphne tried to peek over mid-run, but all she could manage was a large group of students loitering about near the hut. What's going on down there?!

Daphne picked up her pace, finally reaching the end of the bridge. Now, down the hill and past the Whomping Willow! Please, don't be hurt! She had no idea that she could sprint for so long without needing to catch her breath, maybe she was improving, after all?

More students crossed her path, each looking more curious than the last. Daphne paid them no mind, finally reaching the large group she had seen from the bridge. They had formed a circle of sorts around the hut, with someone standing in the middle.

"RON?!" Daphne called, but her voice was lost amongst the others.

Daphne tried to jump in order to get a better view, but the older students had completely blocked the view. She then tried to push past the crowd, but she lacked the strength to get far. That's when someone grabbed her wrist, pulling her further into the group.

"Let go!" Daphne yanked her arm free, looking for the fool who had dared to touch her without consent. Theo?! Thank, Merlin!

"Easy there!" Theo grinned, reaching out and grabbing her hand this time. "Come here!"

With a strong tug, Theo managed to pull Daphne right beside himself.

"Thanks," Daphne said, speaking directly in Theo's ear. Ugh, it's so crowded in here. And some of them smell!

Daphne scooted closer to Theo, letting him put an arm around her shoulders.

"Bit crowded, isn't it?" Theo laughed.

"What's going on?" Daphne asked, shooting a look back. "Pansy was with me, have you seen her?" I completely forgot about her. Sorry, Pans.

"No, I haven't," Theo replied. "And as for what's going on, well… Malfoy had a stroke of genius!" He did? "Since the Ranked Duelling Tournaments are on this weekend, he figured that it was time for Slytherin to put a healthy dose of fear into our enemies." Fear?

"Hold on… Don't tell me that this is some stunt, Theo!" Daphne felt her temper spike, though relief was quick to eb her anger. He's not hurt, then… Thank, Circe.

"It is!" Theo started laughing again. "Look around, anyone with sweat rolling down their face is in Rank A! They know they're done for, already!"

"He's about to do it, again!" came Tori's voice.

"Astoria?!" Daphne called, and then she looked to Theo. "Is my sister up there, Theo? With Ron?"

"All the first years are," Theo replied, looking for an opening. "Hold on to me, I'll get us through."

Daphne held onto Theo's shirt, moving with him in small steps. Theo, unlike her, was not gentle towards anyone in their way. He even shoved a girl aside, blaming another boy for the rude act as he took the girl's spot.

"Out of the way!" Theo called, his arm tightening around Daphne's shoulders. So many of them haven't heard of hygiene, it's gross! Take a shower, please! "Oi, I'm Ron's best mate, clear the way!"

"Theo!" Daphne smacked his chest.

"What?!" Theo grinned. "I didn't lie, did I?!" You did, because I'm his best mate!

Daphne held her tongue in check, mostly because, deep down; she wasn't even sure if they were friends, anymore.

Eventually, they reached the front, and Daphne could finally breathe. Where is he? Daphne spotted Ron standing perfectly still in the middle, small of bursts electricity crackling through his fingers. His eyes were closed, as if he were focusing intensely. Woah…

Daphne found herself mesmerised, her eyes widening as the electricity began to climb up his arms. Shut your ears, Daphne!

"Theo, cover your ears," Daphne warned, and just they both moved to do so; Ron's eyes snapped open.

With a monstrous roar, Ron pushed his hands towards the sky, unleashing a blinding torrent of lightning from his fingertips. The overwhelming sound of thunder shook the ground, and Daphne screamed out of instinct as she clung to Theo's side. The flash of white lingered for a few seconds, but Daphne barely noticed it thanks to her ringing ears.

"Fucking hell…" she eventually heard Theo, but even then, his voice sounded barely louder than a whisper.

Slowly, Daphne began to look around, her expression not so dissimilar from her schoolmates. It was a mixture of awe and fear, and Daphne thanked her lucky stars that she was only in Rank D. Ron? Is he okay? Daphne looked back towards the redhead, who was drawing in deep breaths as he stared up at the sky.

There was a maniacal grin on his face, which didn't surprise Daphne in the least. Ron enjoyed displaying his power, and who could blame him? If I worked even half as hard as he did, I know I wouldn't be able to hold myself back. The gathered students burst into shouting again, the majority of them cheering and letting out whistles. Theo's right, the Rank A students look as pale as ghosts. I can see Swans, and Diggory as well… Yeah, they're both thinking twice about competing, now.

"It worked, I think," Daphne told Theo.

"It definitely did," Theo chuckled, but his mirth died the moment Ron collapsed onto one knee. "Oh, fuck! Ron!"

Daphne's heart shot up into her throat, and she barrelled right towards Ron out of habit. She even outran Theo, which was a first.

"Ron?! Sweet Circe, are you all right?!" Daphne asked, kneeling in front of him. "Ron, can you hear me? You're not hurt, are you?"

Ron looked dazed; his eyes fixed on the ground. Merlin, what's wrong with him?! He's going to give me a heart attack one day!

"Careful! Comin' through!" came Professor Hagrid's voice, he too had been enjoying the 'fireworks'. "Ronald?! Are yeh all righ'? Yeh need some help?"

"No," Ron shook his head, slowly standing back up and stretching his back. "Oh, fuck… That was rough."

Daphne stood up as well, noticing that the circle of students was closing in. She could see Granger with Ron's sisters, and not far from them was Tori, whispering excitedly with her friends. They look so thrilled; I don't think Tori's ever looked that enthusiastic over something I've done.

"Mate?" Theo stepped over to Ron's side. "You're not going to fall again, are you?"

"I'll ge' yeh some milk, some jerky, too," Professor Hagrid said, gently guiding Ron towards the hut. "Yeh sit down righ' here, Ron. Catch yer breath, eh?"

"Thanks, Sir," Ron still seemed oblivious to his surroundings.

"Sir?!" Professor Hagrid laughed, his booming voice making Daphne's bones shake. "No need to be so formal there, Ron, jus' Hagrid'll do."

Daphne and Theo followed after Ron, spotting Pansy, Blaise, and Malfoy heading over along the way. Pansy must've found them, or, they found her. Either way, I'm glad.

"Did Theo tell you what's going on?" Pansy whispered as she moved to Daphne's side.

"He did," Daphne replied. "I'm sorry for running off-"

"Oh, don't worry about it," Pansy said quickly. "I had no idea you were such a fast runner, Daphne." I'm not, I just thought that Ron was in trouble.

Daphne said nothing, silently looking at Ron's back and hoping that he hadn't overdone it. She knew that his Wandless Magic tended to exhaust him, and she also knew that he was usually in pain after overdoing it, though he would never show it.

"That's better," Ron groaned, taking a seat on a stump near the hut's entrance.

Professor Hagrid entered the hut to fetch Ron something to eat, while the students continued to discuss what they had just witnessed. It's not the first time we've seen it, but it's just as… brilliant… as always. I wonder if my body is capable of producing such powerful Magic, I'd probably have to train every day, though, which sounds dreadful.

"Well done, Weasley," Malfoy said. "That was quite the show."

"Glad someone enjoyed it," Ron muttered, looking a bit peaky. "Honestly, though, if I were you any of you lot, I'd be on my way."

"Why?" Blaise asked, his brow furrowed.

"Can't you feel it?" Ron asked, smirking slightly. "Someone is coming towards us, and they're pissed." What is he on about? Who's coming towards-?

"Where is he?!" came a very familiar voice, and Ron's smirk transformed in a lazy grin. Oh, no! Professor Snape! "That damn fool! Boy! Come here at once! Is that you, McDean?! Twenty points from Hufflepuff! You as well, Spinnet! And you, Chang! Warrington, ten points from Slytherin and detention with me, tomorrow night! Didn't I warn you already to keep your nose clean, you ingrate?!"

"Run for it," Ron said, lethargically standing back up. "He's had to limp all the way out here, he'll fucking kill one of you if you get in his way." Gods… He's right.

"You heard him, disperse!" Theo was the first to run off, and when Daphne turned around; she saw that the other students, regardless of House, were also dispersing. "Oi, get out of the way, bitch!" Theo… She's a first year…

"Let's go, Daphne!" Pansy squealed, taking her hand and pulling her away just as Snape's dark figure became visible.

Daphne's feet moved with Pansy, though her eyes never left Ron. He was looking right at her, giving her a sorry look for making her worry needlessly. Daphne felt a great swell of regret and pain over how their relationship had turned out; why hadn't she tried harder? I've failed at everything I've tried so far, that's not even an exaggeration…

They stopped running eventually, all of them hiding behind the broom shed and trying their hardest to regain their breaths. The boys were laughing and patting each other's back, even Malfoy seemed awfully chipper today. Where was he yesterday? He was also missing during lunch today. Strange.

"Do you reckon he'll get detention?" Theo asked.

"Definitely," Daphne replied, feeling a little irked by their recklessness. Still, it was quite the show, wasn't it? He's become an even stronger wizard; all of that work is really paying off. I'm proud of him, even if he scares the life out of me with these stunts-

"Professor Snape's probably dragging him towards the castle right now," Pansy said, using her wand to fix her hair back into place. "Ugh, I hate running… My hair is ruined! It took me thirty minutes this morning to get it perfect!" At least, you don't have to worry about your back, my breasts are bending my bloody spine, I think. And running every morning is definitely not helping.

"Shame that Bulstrode missed out," Malfoy suddenly said, bringing about an awkward silence. "Surprising, really… I figured that she'd be following you around today, as well."

"Really, you prick?" Theo frowned, looking between Daphne and Malfoy. "We were all having a laugh…"

Daphne said nothing, this particular Malfoy was not worth her attention; she had decided that the day he had called her a 'Blood-Traitor's Slag'. Though, his words did stick with her; it was a real shame that Millie wasn't with them. She's probably training in secret, again. I think she's planning to win the Ranked C Duelling Tournament, which is a smart move. It'll get her Ron's attention-

Daphne stopped mid-thought; the answer was right there in front of her. The Tournaments… That's my chance to finally get a win! To not keep failing! Her business plans were still on hold, she didn't have a boyfriend, she had lost both of her best friends within a handful of days, and her father's never-ending expectations were finally beginning to wear her down.

Sebastian Greengrass cared only for results, and Daphne knew that she was no longer delivering. He's stopped writing to me as often, but I know for a fact that Tori gets a letter from him every second day. And gifts, too… I don't get those either… He must be disappointed in me, and I don't really blame him.

But this Tournament… Winning it would change a few things, wouldn't it? Firstly, one of her best friends might start speaking to her again, which would save her from finding the nerve to approach him herself. Secondly, it would gain her a lot of positive attention, especially within Slytherin. Ron had made it quite clear that success would be rewarded, and although the reward didn't matter to Daphne; she did like the idea of an elevated status earned not through Ron, but through her own success. My victory would definitely please father, as well.

"Daphne?" Pansy called. "Want to head back to the castle? I'm thinking about taking a nap. You can join me, if you like."

"Sorry, Pans," Daphne refused, her mind made up. "There's something I need to do by myself, I'll see you later." The Northern Wing, no one will see me practising there. I've already defeated the likes of Granger, so I know I can win Rank D. I'll be the one who secures those points for us, and then, by the end of Easter, I'll have my grandparents' support.

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Monday 8th March, 1994 (The Headmaster's Office – After Dinner)

"Your stunt interrupted my work," Snape went on, while Ron poured him a cup of camomile and honey tea. "My Alihotsy Draught was ruined by the time I returned to my lab."

"Honestly, Ronald, I thought I asked you not to endanger the other students," Dumbledore added, he too sounded slightly grumpy.

"It was for a good cause," Ron assured them once again, moving around the table and pouring a cup for Dumbledore as well.

"Your act of domestic terrorism hardly counts as a good cause, my boy," Dumbledore sighed out. "Thank you for the cup."

"I was showing my fellow students what they can achieve through hard work," Ron said innocently, finally pouring his own cup.

"How altruistic of you," Snape said coldly, while Ron took his seat and had a sip. "Still, it is good that you decided to remind the other Houses of Slytherin's superiority." Why'd you give me detention, then?! "I could hear the jealousy dripping from Filius' every word when I told him of what had happened. Minerva too, actually." Could you sound any smugger, mate? I'm the one who did the work, why are you reaping all the rewards?

"Are we having this discussion again, Severus?" Dumbledore chuckled, his eyes twinkling. I fucking hope not, don't ruin my cup of camomile with House rivalry.

"I would rather discuss the Headmaster's trip to Russia," Ron said. "You seem tired, Sir, did something go wrong?"

"No, nothing went wrong, my boy," Dumbledore assured him. "I visited some of Lord Voldemort's old bases of operation, safe-houses that were on Auror records and such. Unfortunately, I found nothing of note. They were abandoned long ago, and most have fallen to decay."

"What of Yahontov?" Snape asked. "Has he agreed to search for the boy?"

"He believes it a waste of his time," Dumbledore replied, stroking his beard. Pardon? "Still, he has agreed to search with his personal team."

"What sort of Head-Auror doesn't want to help a child?" Ron asked, looking to his elders for an explanation. "His job is to help people, right?"

"Luka is not like most Head-Aurors, I'm afraid," Dumbledore explained. "He believes that Samara has already secured safety for her child, and that we are only wasting our time in an attempt to 'play it safe'. He believes that we should move against Samara as soon as possible, perhaps even assassinate her before she can do too much damage."

"I agree with him," Snape said. "Searching Magical Russia for one child, in the hopes of tricking his mother out of her shell, is not much of a plan. I hear she's being hosted for an award ceremony within Bulgaria, near the end of April." An opening? This soon?

"We have not decided to move her off of the board yet, Severus," Dumbledore said. "Ronald, what is your opinion on the matter?"

"I don't have one, yet," Ron shrugged. "All I know is that I don't the sound of this Head-Auror, nor do I like working with cunts who don't care if an innocent child is in danger."

"Luka's conflict is against Samara, and his love for his country is, for the moment, blinding him," Dumbledore said. "When the time comes, I know that he will make the right decision."

"How?" Ron asked.

"Faith, my boy," Dumbledore beamed, while Ron and Snape exchanged looks. We're fucked in Russia, aren't we?

"Well, faith better move her arse, because it's looking like we don't have the support we need in Russia," Ron said. "This Head-Auror will half-arse the job, I can already feel it. He obviously cares more for ending Minister Samara than he does for saving Alexie, her son."

"What of your man?" Snape asked. "This 'Artyom'… Have you spoken to him about our next move?"

"No, we're busy with Ilvermorny and the Werewolf Sanctuary," Ron replied. "Like I already said, you two will need to take the lead on this; I already have my mind set on my trip to the States." I can't be distracted, not when Tracey needs me the most.

"Have you considered my advice?" Dumbledore asked.

"I have," Ron replied, smiling a little. "I won't go there as an enemy, I promise. I want to try and negotiate, see if we can find common ground, you know?"

"Very good-"

"However, I will need your help," Ron added, and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled knowingly.

"This letter should do," Dumbledore pulled out a letter from his desk, handing it to Ron. "Give it to Asmodeus directly, no one else." He's already written one? Brilliant, I'll take it.

"What's it say?" Ron had to ask.

"The letter will urge Asmodeus to help you," Dumbledore said simply. "However, you must not open it, Ronald. This is a private letter between two old friends, and surely, you will respect that." I suppose… Shame, it sounded interesting.

Ron pocketed the letter; he would accept any help from the old man. No questions asked. I doubt he'd do anything to hinder me, that's just not his style.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Ron said. "Hopefully, it does the job, because Merlin knows, I don't need more scandal in my life."

"The whole Wizarding World knows, not just Merlin," Snape felt the urge to add. That's just uncalled for, I've had a rough few weeks…

"Does tea make you more bitter?" Ron asked.

"Depends on the company," Snape replied, sipping his tea. "Your detention is not over, by the way. You will continue to scrub the pots until midnight-"

"Headmaster," Ron looked to the old wizard. "That's not fair, I'm already sore from training today, and Professor Snape doesn't let us use Magic in his detentions. I'll be scrubbing pots all fucking night, and then, I'll be exhausted for the remainder of the week!" Sound more pathetic, Ron! He won't buy this lame act-!

"Severus… There is no need for more pot-scrubbing, is there?" Dumbledore smiled at Ron. "Let him off; Ronald had good intentions, clearly." Yes! Take that, you overgrown bat!

Snape frowned at Ron, shaking his head slightly, while Ron smirked as he sipped his tea. Ah, it certainly pays to have friends in high places. I guess I'll keep training after this, I want to block more Spells with my new bracers!

---

Monday 8th March, 1994 (The Sanctuary – Near Midnight)

"This room really has everything, doesn't it?" Ravenclaw Ron hummed, floating above Ron's head.

Ron simply nodded along, dipping further into the large bath that had arrived exactly when he needed one most. The Room of Requirement, also known as the 'Come and go' room. And then, there's the Room of Hidden Things. Both exist within the same space, at the same time, and yet, there's no overlap. What the fuck? Do they even exist in the same space? I have no clue… This castle is a fucking madhouse. The Founders really were the brightest wizards and witches of their age, weren't they?

"What are you thinking about?" Ravenclaw Ron asked.

"About how brilliant the Founders were," Ron replied. "To build such a castle, over a thousand years ago to boot? Mental…"

"You'll leave your mark as well, I'm sure of it," Ravenclaw Ron said. What sort of mark, though?

"Honestly, I think I'd prefer it if people forgot that I was here," Ron admitted. "It probably won't happen, given the things I've achieved, but still… I hate the thought of people missing me when I'm gone, hurting because of me." Haven't I done enough damage already?

"Pain is a part of life, Ronnie," Ravenclaw Ron told him. "You can't avoid it, no one can. It's best to grit your teeth, and endure. Get me?"

"Yes," Ron agreed. "I get you."

"They will mourn you, but eventually, they will move on with their lives," Ravenclaw Ron promised, and Ron really hoped that was the case. The sooner, the better. "That is, if they're not dead as well. Then, you can all be together, and you don't have to worry about hurting their feelings anymore."

"Cunt," Ron clicked his tongue, ignoring his counterpart's sniggering. "Weren't you going to teach me something new, tonight? Where have you been?"

"It gets boring watching you do the same thing every single day," Ravenclaw Ron drawled. "I like to entertain myself at the Entity's expense-"

"Well, when I call, just come," Ron cut in. "What if it was an emergency?"

"I'd know if it were, Ronnie," Ravenclaw Ron replied. "Believe me, I'm always watching." Okay, that's creepy. "Now, let's talk about Magic, hm? It's why you called me here, after all."

"I've learned to control my Depulso, and a handful of other Spells, just like you instructed," Ron started, pulling his left hand out of the water. Incendio!

His left-hand glowed orange, steam sizzling off of his skin as it became scorching hot. Concentrate on your Magic, Ron. He drew in a deep breath, focusing on what was inside of him. Once he encountered the familiar sensation of his Magic, Ron guided it towards his left arm. His muscles tensed, and he had to grit his teeth in order to ignore the pain from the sudden contraction.

Within a few seconds, his entire left arm was glowing orange; the dark shapes of his bones showing through the glowing muscles and tendons. Easy! I'm a fucking God! His Magic wavered, but Ron quickly regained his composure; focusing his mind on maintaining the fiery-hot feeling emanating from his arm.

"That's impressive," Ravenclaw Ron clapped, looking quite pleased. "See? Your entire body is a weapon, Ron. Learn to use it, and you'll destroy most witches and wizards with little to no effort."

"I can also kick out a Depulso, however, I have to focus on it, first," Ron said. "In an actual Duel, I'd take too long; I already know that." Just keep practising, you're becoming stronger every single day, Ron. Today, you fired two separate Wandless Baubillious Charms, and the second one was loads more powerful than the first. Not to mention all the training you did today. Soon, only the truly powerful will able to challenge you, but you'll destroy them as well.

Ron smiled to himself, admiring his glowing arm, and by extension, the power he now wielded. There was a time when he'd tear up from the sheer loneliness that came with his commitment to self-improvement, but now… Now, he knew that his isolation was an advantage. To the outside world, Ron was just a brilliant student, nothing more. Only a handful of people had seen his real power, and he knew the terror and awe he had inspired from these few moments. All that pain, all that struggle… It's paying off, now. I can literally feel it!

With a wave of his hand, and a Non-Verbal, Wandless Depulso; Ron banished the Magic from his left arm, and it came out in the form of a jet of orange flame; scorching the wall in front of Ron and creating steam out of any water it touched.

"Oho! What's this?!" Ravenclaw Ron laughed. "Are you cheating on me with another Professor?!"

"Professor Flitwick," Ron shrugged, his arm had returned its usual pale colour. "We had a chat, and he told me that the Banishing Charm can be used to 'banish excess Magic from oneself'. The Magic for the Depulso Charm has to move through your arm first, right? So, basically, you just have to use the Depulso Charm in combination with another Spell, which can sometimes result in a wicked outcome." So far, it works with Glacius and Incendio, but I should keep trying other Spells.

"That Flitwick is certainly creative, I'll give him that," Ravenclaw Ron nodded along. "Shame that he never reached out to me; I could've used his help more often."

"I bet he tried, but you pushed him away," Ron commented.

"And how do you know this, exactly?" Ravenclaw Ron questioned.

"I'm you, aren't I?" Ron shrugged, sitting back down in the bath. "I know what we do when we're upset; we like to let our anger out on the poor cunts around us."

"Well, since he taught you a trick with Depulso, I'll do the same," Ravenclaw Ron smirked.

"I can do more with the Banishing Charm?" Ron asked. We learnt this Spell in first year, I thought it was useless until now.

"Just as you expelled the excess Magic within your arm, you can also expel the Magic of others," Ravenclaw Ron explained. "The timing is the hard part, but seeing as you've learnt to control your Magic a little; I think you're ready for Deflection."

"Oh, that sounds useful," Ron couldn't help but feel giddy. More! "Explain it to me, and please, use small words, I'm not as bright as you."

"Do you remember back in first year, when you encountered the Dark Lord within the Forbidden Forest?" Ravenclaw Ron asked.

Ron remembered flashes of the night, but mostly, he remembered how terrified he and Draco had been. He would've killed us both, the cunt. Children… Both of us are Pure-Bloods to boot. He's a fucking liar, as well as a murderous psychopath.

"How many of my memories have you seen?" Ron asked, instead.

"Most," Ravenclaw Ron replied casually. "I skip some, especially the raunchy ones-"

"You better not be having a wank up there," Ron warned, and Ravenclaw Ron burst into laughter.

"I'm dead, I don't feel such urges anymore," Ravenclaw Ron informed him. Huh? "I mean, it's hard to explain… It's like I'm not completely here, anymore. It's been so long since my Cycle ended, thousands of years have passed…" Thousands?! Wait, that does make sense. I'm the four hundred and sixty fourth Cycle, and if every Cycle lasts an average of eight years, then… Sweet Merlin… Nearly four thousand years have passed since the Cycles first began…

"Don't be afraid," Ravenclaw Ron suddenly said.

"Afraid?" Ron's eyes flashed red. "I'm not afraid… I'm pissed. We've been getting fucked over for nearly four thousand fucking years! How many Rons have endured thousands of years of torture already?!"

"Far too many," Ravenclaw Ron replied, while Ron scowled at the thought of the Elders. "Which is why you need to stop interrupting me when I'm trying to help you."

"Right, right… No need to sass me," Ron said, deciding to contemplate the Cycles later. "Go on, I'm listening with rapt attention."

"The Banishing Charm, if the name isn't obvious, is used to banish objects, and Magic, away from the caster," Ravenclaw Ron went over the basics. "If you time your Banishing Charm right, you should be able to slightly alter the trajectory of the Spell."

"Slightly alter?" Ron asked. "Can't I just slap the Spell in a different direction? Like the Dark Lord did?"

"He didn't slap it away," Ravenclaw Ron chuckled. "He is an elegant Duellist; one who has bested countless wizards and witches. He has technique, speed, and mastery on his side, so don't concern yourself with what he's capable of just yet. You're not ready."

Ron hated to hear that, but he knew that it was the truth. He is the Headmaster's equal; no one can refute that.

"Now, you slightly alter the trajectory because you don't want the Spell to go off," Ravenclaw Ron explained. "Put too much power into your Banishing Charm, and you will make your opponent's Spell unstable. Instead, you must guide it away from yourself. Just a small tap is all you need, nothing more. Oh, and the angle is important, too. You don't want to send a Spell at your own friends, do you?"

"No, I don't," Ron replied. "This technique works against all Spells?"

"It depends," Ravenclaw Ron replied. "Some Spells are too powerful, too potent… You'll need to use more power for those, whist still being restrained. Some Spells are just too fast, and it's better to jump out of the way rather than to show off. You'll lose fingers if you're not careful, this technique is not without its dangers. It's meant as a last defence, so don't try to overdo it. One mistake is all it takes, so stick with the safer techniques."

"I understand," Ron nodded along, thinking about his own strategies. This technique will definitely help if I get disarmed, which I will at some points, that's just a given.

"Another neat trick is to use Immobulus," Ravenclaw Ron added.

"The Freezing Charm?" Ron cocked an eyebrow.

"If cast Wandlessly, it's far less focused, and as such; it will create an invisible wall that will slow down anything that tries to pass through it." What?! Fucking Lockhart! A part of me is glad that he died in the Azkaban break-in, his lies put my sister in danger! We needed a Defence Professor like Remus last year; he'd sort everything out within days!

"How big is this wall?" Ron asked. "If I try to make my Freezing Charm as powerful as possible, will it cover more ground?"

"Yes," Ravenclaw Ron nodded. "However, the technique I want to show you is a bit more complicated than that. You must be in complete control of your Magic, and through your focus; you must build a 'bubble' around your opponent's Spell using Immobulus. You must trap the Spell within a space that is being twisted by your Magic, it will cause the Spell to 'freeze' in the air, and eventually, it will become unstable and come undone."

"Bloody hell," Ron said, letting out a whistle. Now, this is some proper Magic!

"Pretty wicked, right?!" Ravenclaw Ron grinned.

"Sounds difficult, but I'm willing to give it a go," Ron said, deciding that he'd practise these two techniques tomorrow morning. Deflecting and freezing, how bloody creative are the people who came up with these techniques? I wonder how they do it.

---

Thursday 11th March, 1994 (The Sanctuary – After Classes)

The Stinging Hex came right for Ron's face, but the young wizard held his ground. Depulso. Ron brought his left hand up, feeling the Magic pass through his arm. But he had been too slow, and the stinger exploded against his fingers.

Sharp pain shot up Ron's entire arm, and an earsplitting shriek tore out of his throat. You fucking cocksucker-! Before Ron could finish his thoughts, another stinger struck him in the ribs. Fuck me! Ron rolled to the side, barely dodging the stunners and Disarming Charms that followed. Stingers are too fast, Ron! Don't try and deflect those little blighters!

His fingers throbbed painfully, and as such, Ron didn't feel the need to hold back anymore. Cutis Terra! Just as Ron's muscles contracted and became rock-like, three separate stunners came streaking towards him. Using his bracers, Ron smashed through the first two, allowing the third to shatter against his chest. Now, there's an opening!

"Immobulus!" Ron chanted, aiming his left palm at the P-12. Focus, old boy! You've got this!

It was much easier to channel his Magic with Cutis Terra in effect, thanks to more durable muscles, and as such, Ron found it awfully easy to engulf his opponent in a poorly put-together 'bubble'. Concentrate, imagine building a dome, and then, imagine it shrinking; trapping someone inside.

The P-12 threw out all manners of Spells, which put a great strain on Ron's focus. He tried to hold on, but the P-12 was a relentless bastard, especially when it sensed its doom. Bloody hell, stop, you lunatic-! The invisible bubble popped, and the Spells fired off in all directions, setting multiple parts of the room on fire.

Ron wasted no time in moving on from his failure, deciding to close the distance in order to crush the P-12 with his strength. Step-by-step, Ron dodged and powered through the Spells coming his way, until the P-12 suddenly twirled its wand; wrapping Ron's feet in sand before Transfiguring said sand into stone. You sneaky cunt! Lumos Solem!

Ron unleashed a beam of golden light from his eyes and mouth, and it easily smashed through the P-12's pathetic Shield Charm. No, not pathetic… I'm just that fucking powerful!

"Had enough," Ron grinned, using a simple Finite to undo the Transfigured stone keeping his feet in place. I should drop Cutis Terra, before it becomes a burden.

The P-12 creaked as it struggled to stand back up, its head bobbing from side to side as if a bolt had come loose. Ron aimed his wand at his helpless opponent, he could finish this fight right now.

"Reparo," Ron chanted, restoring the P-12 to its former glory.

It sprang up immediately, its wand aimed at Ron's face. That's gratitude for you- A Confringo fired out of its wand, and Ron's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Jump, cunt!

Ron leaped onto his stomach, and a second after the orange ball flew over his head; he heard the explosion that shook the entire room. You're fucking dead, now! Cutis Terra!

Ron shot forward into a sprint, his legs sending him flying forward with alarming haste. Ron barely took notice of this, however, as he was charging through oncoming stunners with his bracers protecting his head.

With a sickening crunch, Ron smashed into the P-12; sending the wooden man flying through the air. Chunks of wood went everywhere, the P-12's body had been crushed by the impact. Lumos Solem! Ron fired another beam of light at the P-12, just as it hit the ground, and the beam finished what Ron had started; completely shattering the P-12's body down the middle, sending it rolling in two different directions.

Ron pounded his fist against his chest and let out a roar, his adrenaline turning everything red. Auror Trainer?! You're nothing!

"I am the fucking King of Hogwarts!" Ron laughed, lifting his arms to his sides and basking in his victory. And soon, I'll prove it once and for all! All Rank B and Rank A matches are set for Sunday! I'm so keen!

---

Thirty Minutes Later

Ron examined the Marauder's Map, he liked to know where everyone was in the castle in order to plan his routes. Avoiding students was easy enough, but it was the Professors who were giving Ron trouble. They could sense him creeping about during their rounds, and as of late; they had become more vigilant than ever. Hmmm, let's see. Where is Professor Snape right now?

The Potions Master was in his lab, pacing as usual in order to regain some strength in his crippled leg. Ron moved onto his friends, who were loitering about in the common room. No Daphne and Millie, eh? Where are you two? Ron's eyes moved across the large map, looking into the Northern Wing. There you are, training in secret.

Ron smiled a little to himself; he had no idea what had possessed Daphne, but she was genuinely trying to prepare herself for the Duelling Tournament as of late. Seeing her work up a sweat in the morning is quickly becoming a guilty pleasure of mine… Ron shook his head clear; he had no business indulging in such thoughts. He studied the map again, his eyes fixed on Daphne and Millicent's moving dots. They're sparring, again. I'm glad they have each other, it's always easier to train with another person.

Ron moved his attention towards the seventh floor, it was time for him to head out. Shouldn't keep the fourth years waiting, it's bad form to be late. There were no Professors, or, ghosts on the seventh floor, though Filch was hovering about near the Gryffindor entrance. Wait… Is that Fred?

Ron stared dully at his brother's dot; it was mashed together with Angelina Johnson's dot inside the broom-closet not far from the Sanctuary. Shagging again? They've been at it like Garden Gnomes since my party!

Ron closed up the map and sent it flying under his bed, he was done procrastinating for today. He then did a quick once over of everything, making sure that he hadn't left anything important out for prying eyes. Okay, nothing is out of its place. I can be on my way, now.

Ron headed out of the Sanctuary, kicking the broom-closet door on his way in order to ruin Fred's fun. The Disillusionment Charm was still one of his favourite Spells, as it essentially allowed him to travel around Hogwarts without any inconvenience. I swear, people are starting to find the courage to approach me. Parvati and Fay baked me cakes the other day, with strawberry-icing hearts on them.

Once again, his teenage hormones urged him to take advantage of his fame, but Ron resisted out of principle. There could be no more distractions, and girls definitely counted as distractions. The most dangerous sort of distractions, according to every married man I've ever met. At least, I don't have to worry about marriage.

Ron nodded to himself, there were some perks to dying young that made his fate sting less. No worrying about jobs, or, getting married, or, having a family that depends on you. I like to think that the afterlife is just that, a different life waiting for us at the end of this shit one.

As he mulled over the afterlife in his head, Ron made it all the way to the ground floor of the castle; spotting Percy coming out of Entrance Hall with a grim look about him. What's happened, now? Ron thought about ignoring Percy, simply because he knew that Percy's problems were likely trivial and not worth stressing over, but in the end; he settled for at least asking before making up his mind. What's the harm? Percy's not like most people; you can actually stand him and respect him.

With his mind made up, Ron began following Percy back up to the seventh floor. The bespectacled Weasley didn't notice that his younger brother was stalking him, and as he neared the fifth floor; Ron decided to make himself known.

"Boo!" Ron suddenly appeared right behind Percy, eliciting a panicked squeal out of him. What was that fucking sound?!

Ron burst into immature laughter, while Percy let out a shaky breath before frowning deeply at Ron.

"Where did you come from?" Percy demanded. "I could've slipped, Ron, that's not funny!" I would've caught you, don't worry.

"You sounded pretty funny to me," Ron continued laughing. "Nice scream there, you little poof. Not surprising to see that the Weasley courage skipped you-"

"Haha," Percy rolled his eyes, his mood becoming fouler. "Go away, Ron… I'm not in the mood today." Oh? Is that so?

"Perce, it was only a joke," Ron raised his hands in mock surrender. "Though, it was in poor taste, I can see that, now… I'm sorry." There, that's all he wants, right? Respect and brotherly decency. "What's wrong? You looked upset before I jumped you."

"It's nothing, don't worry about it, Ron," Percy shook his head. Do I have the energy to coax information out of him? No… He has a mouth, and if he has a problem; he can use said mouth to let me know. Other than that, his problems are just that. His.

"Uh-huh," Ron muttered, making up his mind. "Well, I asked, and that's all I can really do, right? Enjoy the rest of your day, Percy."

With that, Ron turned around and began heading down the moving stairs. It's almost time for my training session with the fourth years; I won't be taking it easy on them tonight.

"Ron, wait…" Percy called, and Ron immediately stopped.

"Yes?" Ron turned around, keeping his expression indifferent. "What is it?"

Percy shifted in his spot a little, looking very uncomfortable. All right, now, I'm getting worried. What the fuck has happened?

"Did you read the paper this morning?" Percy asked, and Ron nodded slowly. "Then, you saw Minister Bones? With her new secretary?"

Ron had to draw in a deep breath; this was why Percy was moping about? Simple envy of a witch he had never met before?! Don't throw him off the side, Ron… Normal people tend to be abnormal idiots most of the time, it's just how it is.

"Percy, you're not going to be someone's secretary," Ron started. You're a Weasley, and I'm not letting something like that happen. There is no respect in such a profession, especially for a man. "You're going to be the Minister's right-hand man, and then, you will succeed her when she has run her term. That's what you're going to be, understand?"

"How can you be so sure?" Percy asked. "She hasn't even owled me, yet, Ron-"

"She's very busy, and you're still studying," Ron said calmingly. "Tell you what, I'll get in touch with her and 'secure' your spot, eh? What's the point in stressing over nothing?"

"You'd do that?" Percy asked. Who got you this opportunity in the first place, Percy? It wasn't the fucking Fairy Godmother, that's for certain.

"Why haven't you owled her yourself, already?" Ron had to ask. "Why mope around instead of chasing after the opportunity I've already provided you with?" I already know the answer, I just want to hear it come out of your mouth. Did Clara waste any time in reaching out to Crouch? No, because she knows just how lucky she is to get such an opportunity right out of the gate, while you're skulking about Hogwarts as if Madam Bones is cheating on you.

"Oh… I don't really know her, Ron…" Percy tried. What sort of response is that? You know why you haven't reached out to her? You're scared, which is unacceptable!

"Neither did I, until I made the effort to reach out to her," Ron stated, deciding to give his older brother some tough love. "Grow a pair, Percy. I'm really starting to think that you're actually a lass, especially over the last few days. I won't be there to wipe your arse at the Ministry, understand? Harden the fuck up a little, eh? For your own sake."

Percy went quiet, giving a slightly confused nod and feeling properly chastised by his little brother. As weird as that was…

With his piece spoke, Ron turned around and left; wondering if everyone needed a little bit of Entity inside of them. Maybe they won't be such whiny little tossers if they actually knew what suffering was. Moping about the castle like he got rejected by a date… What the fuck? Do something about it! Merlin, fucking help me!

---

Millicent Bulstrode's POV

Thursday 11th March, 1994 (The Northern Wing's Courtyard – Evening)

"Expelliarmus," Daphne chanted, she was getting visibly tired.

Millie Non-Verbally blocked the Spell with a Shield Charm; she was still at the top of her game, unlike Daphne. Looking frustrated with how effortlessly Millie had blocked her Disarming Charm; Daphne unleashed a barrage of stunners, Knockback Jinxes, and Disarming Charms just as Ron had taught them. Her stance could be better, and she's a bit slow on the follow-up.

Millie dodged the oncoming Spells easily enough, keeping her breathing steady and her wand at the ready. Since this was just a sparring match, Millie didn't feel the need to attack back. This was more for Daphne's sake than her own; it was rather surprising when Daphne had approached her about training together.

Millie had thought about rejecting the offer, but she wasn't used to being so alone all the time, and for just a few hours of Daphne's undivided attention; Millie had agreed to help the Greengrass Heiress shape up a little before the Tournaments. It had been a pleasant experience so far, mostly because Daphne was trying her hardest in her training and was steering clear from discussing their issues during their recovery time.

It was even beginning to feel like old times, and Daphne had no idea how much that meant to Millie right now. Or, maybe, she does know, which is why she's here?

"Ugh!" Daphne suddenly let out an unladylike groan. "Why can't I hit you?!"

"Is that what you were trying to do?" Millie asked, teasing instinctively.

Daphne gave her a dull look, rolling her eyes and flicking her beautiful hair back in place.

"I think, I should close the distance next time," Daphne said, speaking mostly to herself. "I was too far, and that gave you too much time to react." Correct.

"You could try changing up your combos, as well," Millie suggested, walking over as she wiped her brow. "Remember how you used Ventus against Granger? To blow sand into her face?"

"Right…" Daphne remembered. "I just get really worked up and forget…"

"You get used to thinking fast," Millie shrugged, she had Duelled far too many dummies for any thirteen-year-old girl. "You should try Duelling a dummy-"

"You don't mean the P-12, do you?" Daphne cut in. No! Stay away from that thing!

"No, I meant the dummies in the Slytherin Training Area," Millie clarified. "They're not very smart, but they will Jinx you, if given the chance. At least, try a few Duels before Saturday, all right?"

"If you think that's best," Daphne agreed, adjusting her bra back in place.

Millie subtly looked away, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. They're really growing, now, aren't they? By seventeen, she'll probably leave Lady Greengrass herself in the dust. Why am I looking forward to seeing that happen? Millie rubbed her forehead, feeling confused and conflicted once again. Did I just come out wrong, is that it?

"What's wrong?" Daphne asked, taking a step closer. "Mills?"

"It's nothing…" Millie lied, collecting herself. "Do you want to sit down for a bit? You look exhausted."

"That'd be nice," Daphne smiled, her flushed skin was almost glowing. "I feel like I've earned a small rest."

"Definitely," Millie smiled back. I should buy some of that mango-scented lotion Daphne uses to moisturise, it's clearly doing wonders for her skin.

Millie quickly decided against that, who was she getting better skin for?

"Do you feel ready for Saturday?" Daphne asked as they made their way over to the apple tree. "You're going up against the likes of Harry Potter, not to mention Theo and Blaise." And Malfoy, don't underestimate him. He's been putting in real effort as of late, I've been watching him.

"It won't be easy, but I'm not going to back down," Millie shrugged again. "I have to win, no matter what."

They sat down side-by-side, and Daphne wasted no time in snuggling up to Millie's side. Millie shifted a little in her spot, but that only served to relax Daphne further, as she all but melded into Millie's side, finishing by resting her head on Millie's shoulder.

It felt all too familiar, they had been this close just a few weeks ago, even if those weeks felt as a long as a lifetime.

"I've missed this," Daphne suddenly whispered. "You're a better cuddler than Pansy."

"Pansy just tries to feel you up, that's why," Millie chuckled a little. And she gets a little too much into it, not that I mind… Shite, why don't I mind? Daphne always stops Pansy from going too far; she's so decisive about everything.

"You're not wrong about Pansy," Daphne giggled. "She slipped her hand down my skirt and pinched my arse today, right when we were heading out of Divinations. And Longbottom, of all people, saw it! Oh, the look on his face!"

Millie laughed genuinely; she could already imagine the shock on Longbottom's face. I bet he didn't mind seeing that, if he's anything like the other boys in our class, that is.

"Usually, I'd tell her off for embarrassing me like that," Daphne went on. "But Longbottom's reaction was well worth it, he looked stupefied, Mills!"

"That's brilliant," Millie felt a lot more at ease, resting her hand on Daphne's back and rubbing circles on it. I've really missed spending time with her like this, with all of them. Especially Ron… I miss doing my homework with him the most. He'd always keep his eyes on my page, checking for errors constantly but never saying anything. He let me figure out my own mistakes, he let me prove myself over and over again.

The thought of her former friend twisted the knife in her gut, and Millie was reminded of the letter she had buried beneath her bed. Her parents had finally returned one of her letters, praising her for protecting the Family from Ron. Her parents' words of pride, of love and respect; they didn't mean anything this time around. Not a damn thing. I don't know who they are… I love them, but I don't know who they are deep down.

Millie wasn't proud of what she had done, nor was she proud of her Family for delving into such an abhorrent practise simply to avoid paying taxes. It sickened her, made her feel like she was covered in grime. More than anything, she wanted to commit Bulstrode gold to the Werewolf Sanctuary, just to show her parents how much their actions had hurt her. How utterly disappointed she was in them for destroying so many lives for personal gain. Ron will never accept my gold, though, and I don't blame him.

"Daph… Can I ask you something?" Millie heard herself whisper.

"Of course," Daphne hummed, resting her eyes. "What's on your mind, love?"

"Does Ron hate me?" Millie asked before she could have the chance to back out. I have to know.

Daphne's eyes snapped open, and she immediately sat up with a furrowed brow. Did I anger her? I shouldn't have brought up Ron-

"Where's this coming from?" Daphne asked, sounding more worried than angry. "He didn't say something like that to you, did he? It doesn't sound like him…"

"No, he didn't say anything of the sort," Millie quickly cleared up any misunderstandings. "I just… I'd hate me too, that's all… And I've been thinking lately about the Quibbler's Werewolf issue…" The Bulstrode Family is built on their suffering… I use blood money to buy everything I want. Gods… "I almost ruined Ron's greatest achievement-"

"Millie," Daphne whispered lovingly, taking Millie's hand in hers. "You can't think like that, Ron certainly doesn't."

"Why? He should, shouldn't he?" Millie asked, did she want to be punished? I don't know, I'm just so fucking confused! Why is all of this happening to me?!

"I don't think Ron is capable of hating you," Daphne said soothingly, squeezing Millie's hand. "He's angry, and… And, he's Ron. You did hurt his feelings terribly, and that's probably the reason why he's living out of the Sanctuary-"

Millie couldn't help but wince, she knew it was her fault that Ron had left the group behind. She had broken his heart by making a decision that had betrayed her own soul, and now; she was suffering for it. He's suffering too, when he really doesn't deserve to.

"I'm not saying this to hurt you," Daphne promised. "I've tried to get you two to talk, but you've both decided that being stubborn is more important than your friendship. My advice about Ron won't change, Mills… Unless you two talk, nothing will change. One of you has to take the first step, period."

"I understand…" Millie all but whispered. See? Decisive, again… How do I become more like her? "Thank you, Daph… For being here, and for… Well, for not listening to me when I asked you to leave. I'm glad you stayed, really glad."

Daphne opened her eyes again, smiling up at Millie. The sight made Millie's face heat up, and her eyes kept darting towards Daphne's lips. Stop it! What are you doing, you freak?! She'll notice!

"I'm not going to leave you alone until you do as I say," Daphne's smile turned into a smirk. "So, you better get used to this." I could do that.

"Thanks…" Millie mumbled, not knowing what else to say.

"You're welcome," Daphne rested her head on Millie's shoulder again. "And thank you for training me, I know I'm slowing down your training-"

"It's nothing," Millie cut in, feeling better than she had in weeks. "It helps me relearn the basics, which is always a good thing, according to my books. There's always room for improvement, right?"

"You're starting to sound more and more like Ron, Mills," Daphne giggled. "Better be careful, I don't think there's enough room in the Wizarding World for two Ronald Weasleys." Truer words were never spoken.

Millie decided to ignore her parents' letter for now, Daphne had given her the strength to accomplish at least that much. And during the Break, we'll talk about this… mess. I have to be strong, like Ron was when his parents tried to remove him from Slytherin. I don't want us to build our fortunes on the back of slavery; it's wrong!

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 13th March, 1994 (Ruins of Knockturn Alley – Midday)

"This is a fucking shithole," Ravenclaw Ron said with a hint of amusement. "The blood hasn't been cleaned yet, for fuck's sake. The Ministry's really washed their hands of this district, haven't they? I say you demolish this place entirely, and then, build a temple in my name! Right here! I want a statue of me pissing in the wind! Fits the Cycles, I think!"

Ron gave his past-self a bored look, he would sooner kiss Umbridge than build a shrine with his face plastered all over it. What part of low-profile does he not understand? I can't even tell if he's joking because he's a fucking loon. Ravenclaw Ron poked his tongue out, and then, he shot Ron a mad wink and grin before disappearing. And, he's gone… Don't know whether I'm relieved, or, not.

"This will be expensive," Artyom whispered to Ron. "Hugely expensive. Can you afford it?"

"No," Ron whispered back. "Which is why we're not alone, mate. These old cunts can pay for the repairs, they're the ones who sat by while the world went to the dogs, right?"

Ron and Artyom silently looked over Ron's alliance, all of them were here, including new arrivals such as the Abbots, the Macmillans, and Tiberius Ogden himself; the owner of Ogden's Firewhiskey. They say that, before him, only the British had a taste for Firewhiskey, but this one man has spent his life turning his family's business into a titan of the industry. I can already feel his gold within my hands, it feels so nice.

"By the way, Artyom," Ron started. "Did you find anything on Umbridge? Any trace of where she's gone?"

"No, nothing yet," Artyom replied. Damn it, where the fuck did she go? How hard could it be to find her, given the size of her ego? Oh, and her arse!

"Kee searching," Ron said, feeling a little let down. "And try harder… I'm paying out of my arse for you, aren't I?"

"I understand," Artyom said, not arguing. "I will find pink-woman, you have my word."

"Brilliant, let's move up, then," Ron said, but before he could re-join his allies; Artyom stopped him by moving his arm in the way. What is it? Was I about to step on dried shit and blood?

"Someone is coming," Artyom said, looking down the street. What? Really?

Ron closed his eyes and tried to focus, reaching out to any traces of Magic down the street. At first, he could only feel his allies behind him, but after a few moments of concentration; he was able to sense a large group. A group that's much larger than ours.

"There's a lot of them," Ron said, and Artyom gave a stoic nod.

"London, I will do recon," Artyom ordered, looking towards Ron's security team. "You will keep client safe, clear?" He really doesn't like to use his words, does he? Just cuts corners on purpose, I swear.

"You heard the captain," London said, tossing her cigarette away. "Protect the boss." Oh, please. I'm wearing a Basilisk-skin suit, I've got my bracers on underneath, and I have two wands. If some cunt wants a fight, I'm right fucking here.

"Ron? What is this commotion?" Lord Greengrass asked, walking over with the rest of the alliance. "Has something happened?"

"There are people coming," Ron replied, stretching his arms and doing a few jumps. Merlin, I might get a massage after this, I'm really sore these days. It's all that beautiful training, isn't it? I hope it's a hostile group, I'm keen to test out my strength against grown wizards and witches.

"What are you doing, my love?" Mary asked, looking baffled and concerned.

"Warming up," Ron replied plainly. "If this group is hostile, I don't want to be stiff in the fighting. You should do the same, we are in the ruin of a crime-ridden shithole, after all."

London couldn't hold back her cackle, but she was quick to cover her mouth and restrain herself, while the other mercenaries were nodding in approval and following Ron's lead.

Ron's allies were clearly alarmed by his response, but Ron didn't really care. He was not getting caught with his pants down, not if he could help it. My main goal should be to keep the elderly safe, I'll stick with Lady Longbottom and Aunt Muriel in order to assist their escape. Once they're out, then I can let loose.

The large group became more and more visible, eventually revealing itself to be a body of the Ministry's most pompous mouth-breathers. Fucking hell, what are these cunts doing here? And is that Minister Bones? At the front? Oh, the Heads of the Departments are with her, as well. Interesting, are we in trouble? Or, is this a show of force?

"Stand down," Artyom called, heading back towards Ron and the others. "Minister Bones, and her politicians."

"It's a whole gaggle of cunts," Ron commented, making some of the mercenaries laugh. "Gaggle? Is it a gaggle?"

"Flock sounds better," London commented. Flock of cunts… Gaggle of cunts… No, mine is definitely better.

"We're going with gaggle," Ron said, and London shrugged. "It sounds better, just admit it."

"It's as you say, boss," London said, smiling and shaking her head.

Ron suddenly felt a smack on the back of his head, and when he turned around; he saw Mary frowning intensely at him. Shit, I can feel the next slap coming already. Ron grinned sheepishly, and while Mary rolled her eyes, some of the Lords in the back had a good chuckle as their wives looked less than pleased. At least, Aunt Muriel and Lady Longbottom look like they're in agreement with me. Learn from your elders, you lot. I'm wise beyond my years.

"This area is closed off to the public, my Lords and Ladies," Amelia said, greeting them with a stern gaze. "You have no reason to be here, it is not safe."

"We haven't run into any trouble yet," Ron said, deciding to take the lead himself. Can't trust the others, they'd just fuck it up. "Well, until now, that is. Good to see you again, Minister Bones. I've been hearing good things-"

"Mr. Weasley, why are you here?" Amelia asked, looking towards his allies. "What is your intent, my Lords and Ladies?" My Lords and Ladies… Ugh… I might gag if she keeps associating me with those titles.

"To rebuild what was destroyed by the Ministry's incompetence," Aunt Muriel replied bluntly. Fucking hell, why didn't we gag her before coming here? A minute hasn't even passed, and she's already mouthing off to the fucking Minister. How does she hide her Quaffle-sized balls? What's the secret?

"You have plans to rebuild Knockturn Alley, now?" Crouch asked, cocking an eyebrow at Ron. "And let me guess, you want nothing in return? You are most… charitable, Ronald. What inspires this charity, may I ask? I have become curious." Charity?

"Doing the right thing isn't charity," Ron smiled at Crouch. "Though, I don't fault you for not understanding; the Ministry has a habit of serving itself over its people, after all. What seems like charity to you, is simply me doing your fucking jobs for you." Fuck it, I'm in there with you, Aunt Muriel. Fuck these cunts.

The Heads exchanged looks, while the Aurors and the bureaucrats following them stood ever-silent. He could see Madam Roberts frowning at him, but he simply shrugged at her. Can't help it, don't like being questioned by people who let Death-Eaters walk around free.

"The boy has a sharp tongue," Lord Greengrass said, stepping up to Ron's side. "Forgive him, Minister, but the Ministry's treatment of Ronald as of late has been less than fair."

Ron looked to Lord Greengrass, deciding not to sour the mood further. I need them, I can't lose sight of that. Thank you, Lord Greengrass.

"I understand," Amelia said, her eyes fixed intensely on Ron, who wasn't fazed in the slightest. "Well, if it is your intention to help the Ministry rebuild Knockturn Alley, then we should discuss it somewhere more private. Shall we return to the Ministry?"

Ron looked back to his allies, most of whom gave him subtle nods. Let's go, then. Time to change the world some more.

---

Ginny Weasley's POV

Saturday 13th March, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch – Midday)

"Do you see him anywhere?" Luna asked, and Ginny shook her head. "He wasn't in Slytherin, either?"

"No, Luna, I asked his friends," Ginny replied, feeling a little down. "He left the castle early, he's not even at Hogwarts." He's a busy wizard, my brother… I guess he'll miss both my Duels today.

"Shame he missed your first Duel," Luna said apologetically. "I thought you were brilliant!" Really?

Ginny sat up straighter, shrugging casually.

"I just feel sorry for Colin, I don't think he wanted to go up against me," Ginny said.

"You two have been getting along," Luna said, an airy smile on her face.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ginny asked, feeling slightly defensive. We're just friends, why do people keep thinking we're more than that? He's not even my type… I prefer the athletic sort, whereas Colin has to hold on whenever there's a strong breeze. Not attractive at all!

"That… you two have been… getting along…" Luna repeated slowly, tilting her head at Ginny. Oh… She wasn't teasing me, that's awkward. "I know you don't like him that way, and personally, I don't think you two would work as a couple. He's a very soft-spoken person, while you're too feisty."

"Feisty?" Ginny laughed; she liked the sound of that. I have to tell Ron that one!

Luna's smile widened, her 'vacant' eyes studying Ginny from head-to-toe without the redhead's knowledge. It was a relief to see her act more like her old self, and now that she was a proud owner of a brand-new Firebolt; Ginny always had a bright smile on her face. Luna still needed to thank Ron for that one.

"So, who's your first opponent?" Ginny asked, waiting for her second match to start already; against Lilliana Flowers. It'll be ages before I get to go again, though. All the second years are in D Rank, as well as some third years. Crabbe and Goyle look particularly nasty, I hope Luna wasn't matched against either of them.

"I'm facing Daphne, soon," Luna replied.

"What? Really?!" Ginny was quite surprised. I wonder if Greengrass will hold back. If she punches Luna like she punched Hermione, I'll clock her myself, consequences be damned.

"It's exciting, isn't it?" Luna smiled, not sounding very excited. "I wonder what Daphne makes of this."

"What do you make of it?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, I know I won't win," Luna admitted, shrugging without a care. "But I also know that Daphne won't want to hurt me. We might just trade a few Spells, and then, I'll surrender." Surrender?

"No, Luna," Ginny shook her head. "Surrendering is a pathetic act, no matter the circumstances. You should Duel until one of you is disarmed, or, stunned. You could win, you know? Don't be so quick to write yourself off, okay?"

"Daphne looks very determined to win," Luna said, looking back down at the sandpit. Huh? "She needs this more than me."

"What? Luna, what are you on about?" Ginny asked, but Luna kept her silence and her smile. Hello? "Luna? What do you mean by 'she needs this more than me'?"

"Surrendering isn't always a pathetic act," Luna said. "And there is more than one way to 'win the day'. I already know how I'll win, the Tournament hardly mattered to me in the first place." What the fuck is she talking about?

Luna then looked to Ginny, her smile widening.

"You'll probably Duel her at some point," Luna predicted. "I'm eager to see who wins!" My brain feels violated.

"Right, Luna…" Ginny shook her head clear, looking towards the sandpit. Matilda doesn't stand a chance against Suzie… You know, she looks really skilled from up here. Was she that good when we Duelled before?

Ginny felt the sting of her loss once again, but she quickly vowed that, this time, the outcome would be different. They've allowed physical contact once again, thanks to Snape. This time, I'll show her what we Weasleys can do. Just have to get in close, and grab that fringe.

---

Daphne Greengrass' POV

Saturday 13th March, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch – Past Midday)

"Are you two ready?" Professor Lupin asked, and Daphne gave a nod. Of all the people… Why Luna? I love Luna…

"Yes, Professor," Luna hummed, giving Daphne a little wave before pulling out her wand and doing a small curtsy. Aw, my heart! It just melted!

Daphne gave her a proper curtsy in response, taking on her stance shortly after.

"Begin!" Professor Lupin clapped his hands, starting their Duel.

Daphne threw out timed stunners at Luna, making sure to give the younger witch time to dodge. Luna didn't bother to move much, calmly sidestepping each stunner and firing a Non-Verbal Full Body-Bind Curse at Daphne. Excuse me?!

Daphne barely moved past her shock in time to dodge, staring at the innocent, smiling Luna in horror. What the hell was that?! Luna suddenly twirled her wand in a lazy manner, sending forth ropes that attempted to ensnare Daphne. The blonde Slytherin raised a Non-Verbal Shield, deflecting the ropes just in time. She's a demon! Wake up, Daphne! If you don't get serious, she'll actually win!

"Kick her arse, Luna!" Tori yelled from the Slytherin stands, making the entire Quidditch Pitch break out in laughter. Damn you, Tori! You'll pay for that!

The Ravenclaws began cheering loudly, stomping their feet up in the stands and applauding their second year. Daphne began by blocking out this noise; she was no longer going to be distracted by sentiment. Would father be caught off guard so easily? Or, Ron, for that matter? No, they wouldn't, so I can't afford to be either.

Daphne started throwing out stunners, trying her best to overpower the smaller witch. Luna dodged a few, blocked the rest, and after a few moments on the defensive, she fired more ropes at Daphne. Protego!

The Slytherin batted them aside before thrusting her wand forward, aiming it directly at Luna's feet. She's blocking too high, which is a big mistake.

"Molliare!" Daphne used the Cushioning Charm, turning the sand beneath Luna's feet into soft pebbles.

The Ravenclaw's eyes widened in surprise, and Daphne's stomach dropped.

"Luna, oh, no-!" Daphne started, but it was too late.

Luna slipped back, landing on her arse with a confused look. By all appearances, she was perfectly fine, but Daphne still felt a horrible pang of guilt. End the match, now. Before you actually hurt her.

"Expelliarmus!" Daphne chanted, managing to disarm Luna, who didn't even bother to move an inch.

"Match!" Professor Lupin called, giving Slytherin another win.

Her House-mates were quick to begin cheering, with a few rude boys even whistling at her as if she were a dog. Daphne would have rolled her eyes, but she had better things to do. Like return Luna's wand.

"Here," Daphne walked over, giving Luna her wand back. "I had no idea that you could use Non-Verbal Magic, Luna. Who taught you that?"

"My dad," Luna replied, cleaning her wand with her sleeve. "Sometimes, if the Magical Creature is hurt, you have to bind it for its own good. We've saved so many together! Did you know I helped deliver a Hippogriff when I was staying with my brother?" Oh, ew… I'm sorry about that, Luna.

"You're a very strange girl," Daphne said, giving Luna a faint smile. "We'll talk later, okay?"

"Okay," Luna nodded. "Bye, Daphne."

"Bye, my little lemon," Daphne fought the urge to smile fully. Right, onto the next, which should be Crabbe, as he defeated Finch-Fletchly right before my Duel. I hope those boils heal, Finch-Fletchly was screaming from the pain…

Daphne drew in a sharp breath; she couldn't wait to give Crabbe a taste of his own medicine. I still remember what he did to Ron, and I'm not letting it go. No one hurts my friends and gets away with it, on my honour as a Greengrass.

---

Ginny Weasley's POV

Saturday 13th March, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch - Afternoon)

Something was definitely wrong here, Ginny and everyone else could feel it. The Slytherins were dominating the competition, not a single Rank D Slytherin had lost yet. Even Parkinson, who was more concerned with her hair than her Duel, had won her first match, against Sue Li of third year, with relative ease.

With her own match against Lilliana Flowers up next, Ginny was starting to feel oddly nervous. Deep down, she knew why the Slytherins were suddenly so skilled; her brother was most likely training them in order to secure Slytherin even more House-Points. As if they need anymore…

This definitely annoyed her, as the Gryffindors weren't exactly helpful to each other. Unless Quidditch is involved, then we're all eager to work together. Ugh… I can't lose to Flowers, she's an idiot!

"Ginny Weasley and Lilliana Flowers, you may step into the arena," Remus called, and both girls made their way towards the centre of the sandpit. Just take in a deep breath, you've got this!

She could hear Hermione and Neville from the Gryffindor stands, and when she looked up to them; she also spotted Harry waving at her. She waved back at her flying partner; they had started flying together more often now that she owned a Firebolt as well.

She definitely didn't want to lose to a Slytherin, not in front of Harry.

"Are you both ready?" Remus asked, and they both nodded. "Begin!"

"Expelliarmus!" Ginny chanted, but much to her horror; Flowers side-stepped and fired a Non-Verbal stunner at her.

It was barely more than a wisp of red, but it still gave Ginny reason to pause.

"Protego!" Ginny chanted, blocking the weak stunner. "Stupefy! Stupefy!"

Once again, Flowers managed to dodge Ginny's attacks with relative ease, firing a proper stunner back this time. Ginny jumped to the left, twirling her wand at Flowers' feet.

"Incarcerous!" Ginny chanted, sending black ropes at her opponent's feet.

Flowers let out a girly shriek, jumping just in-time to escape the ropes tying her feet together. Now is my chance!

"Expelliarmus! Stupefy!" Ginny fired two consecutive Spells, and this time, Flowers summoned a shield to block them. Damn it! How do I get through-?

"Depulso!" Flowers suddenly chanted, sending an invisible wave of Magic at Ginny.

The wind got knocked out Ginny's lungs, and she was sent tumbling onto her back. She wheezed immediately, trying to figure out what had happened, while her House-mates began shouting so loudly that Ginny's head began to hurt. Shut up! I need to think!

From the bottom of her vision, she saw a streak of red; Flowers had fired another stunner at her in an attempt to end the match! With great effort, Ginny rolled to the side, groaning from the effort. She hit with a solid Depulso; I couldn't even see it… Wait… I couldn't bloody see it! That's it! I have an idea!

Ginny put up a pathetic shield, buying time for herself to stand up and shake her head clear.

"Finite!" Flowers chanted, using a sparkly red ball to shatter Ginny's shield into a thousand pieces. Are you kidding me?! How is this clown doing all of this?! Damn you to hell, Ron!

Ginny grit her teeth and ran towards Flowers, surprising the Slytherin girl with her strange plan of attack. Predictably, Flowers put up a shield in order to stop Ginny's charge, but Ginny locked her heels into the ground; skidding to a stop with her wand aimed at Flowers. Got you!

"Finite!" Ginny chanted, and just as Flowers' shield shattered; Ginny pulled out her ace. "Silencio!"

Nothing happened after Ginny's wand movement came to an end; not in Flowers', or, the audience's eyes, at least. But Ginny knew that her Spell had worked, she had felt it! I win! The Silencing Charm produces no light, it's impossible to spot mid-Duel!

Flower waved her wand and went to chant something, but no words came out. Shocked, she tried again, and again, and again. The older Gryffindors suddenly burst into cheers and applause, shocked by the second year's use of a fifth year Spell. Soon, members of the other Houses had joined in, much to Flowers' dismay.

"Stupefy!" Ginny chanted, but Flowers jumped out of the way right before the stunner connected. "Stupefy! Stupefy!" Stand still, will you?!

Flowers all but legged it, much to Ginny's chagrin. You slimy snake! Come back here!

"Sir?!" Ginny shot an outraged look towards Remus, all the while chasing after Flowers. "She can't do that!"

Remus was outright laughing, just like everyone else watching the show. Tell her to stop! She can't keep running away from me-!

"Match!" Snape called; a look of disgust aimed at Flowers. "It's over, Ginevra Weasley wins!" I do?

"Severus, Lilliana still has her wand-" Remus started.

"She has been Silenced, and she is unable to remove the Charm without the use of her voice," Snape said coldly. "This match is over; we don't have all the time in the world."

Flowers looked towards Ginny and scowled, and Ginny was quick to return the deadly glare. You ruined my victory! Coward!

Ginny let out an angry huff, turning on her heel and heading towards the Gryffindor stand. Her House-mates began cheering again, which somewhat soothed her agitated mood. Many of the Professor looked impressed to boot, even McGonagall, who was smiling and applauding the young Gryffindor with open pride. Merlin, she's never looked so happy with me before.

Ginny straightened her back, no longer upset with Ron. I can't wait to tell him that I used his Spell to win! It's a shame I couldn't win properly, but I still get to progress to the next stage! That's all that matters!

---

Daphne Greengrass' POV

Saturday 13th March, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch – Afternoon)

"Are you both ready?" Remus asked Daphne and Crabbe, and the gorilla-like boy let out a grunt. Oh, I'm ready, Sir. This won't last long, I've been watching him practise, and I know just how incompetent he is with that wand.

"Yes, Professor," Daphne drew in a sharp breath, focusing on her opponent as Ron had taught her.

"Then, begin!" Remus instructed, taking a step back.

Crabbe, like the ape he was, started the fight by bellowing at her; hurling powerful stunners in her general direction. From the corner of her vision, she could see Professor Snape sneering at Crabbe, his remaining eye twitching at the barbaric display. So uncivilised.

Still, the few stunners that came close to hitting her were definitely powerful, and fast… They were ridiculously fast! I always knew that he was a brute, but looking at him now; I just think he's a pig. He's always been a pig. Stuffing his face at every gathering, all the while mocking Millie for daring to try some dessert. Ugh… I wish I could go back and slap all of us, especially myself for stooping so low!

"Ventus!" Daphne hissed, sending forth a gust of powerful wind.

Sand blew all over the place, some of it getting into Crabbe's eyes as planned. That's when Daphne struck! She had no intention of holding back against Vincent fucking Crabbe, the cruel boy who had destroyed Ron's few possessions in first year, and later, had assaulted Ron within the boys' bathroom.

"Diffindo!" Daphne chanted, sending forth a pink light from the tip of her wand.

Crabbe let out a sharp cry as the Severing Charm left a deep cut on his upper-right arm, drawing blood instantly. Daphne's heart climbed into her throat, and she nearly gasped out of shock for causing such an injury to another person.

But then, she thought of who she had hurt, and she no longer felt the urge to stop. You broke the few possessions he had; do you have any idea how much that hurt him?! Are you even capable of understanding that kind of pain?! To know that you have nothing, while everyone around you has everything?! He loved that chessboard more than anything else!

"Diffindo!" Daphne chanted again, landing a cut on Crabbe's left leg. You nearly killed him, and why?! Because some jealous prick asked you to?! You left him bloodied on a dirty bathroom floor! What if Diggory and McDean weren't around to help him?!

The large boy fell onto his side, clutching at the deep gash on his leg and letting out a pained howl. Again, the pain on Crabbe's face shook Daphne for a moment, but she raised her wand to throw another Severing Charm at her downed opponent nonetheless. If you ever hurt him, or, any of my friends, ever again, I'll fucking kill you!

"Diffin-" Daphne started, but a Disarming Charm suddenly knocked the wand out of her hand.

"Match!" Remus called, he had disarmed Daphne before she could throw out a third Severing Charm. What?! Why did you disarm me?!

Daphne froze, it slowly began to dawn on her that she had drawn blood… Not once, but twice! Crabbe had dropped his wand right after the second cut, but Daphne hadn't even noticed. She had wanted to keep going…

"A word, Daphne?" Remus walked over, returning her wand and pulling her aside.

That's when Daphne realized that no one was cheering; not even the Gryffindors, who were usually quick to share their joy at a Slytherin's loss. A small part of her stubbornly began to defend her actions, Crabbe had gotten off easy. Even now, Madam Pomfrey was putting him back together, and it wouldn't take more than five minutes for the lout to be back at full strength. What he did to Ron, though… Now, those injuries took time to heal…

Daphne raised her head defiantly; a Greengrass needed to have a stronger stomach, and Daphne would never dare dishonour her father's name.

"Daphne, what was that?" Remus finally stopped and turned to face her.

"What was what, Sir?" Daphne asked. "I didn't break any rules, did I?"

"No, but that was very unlike you," Remus said, looking concerned. "I know that you're not a violent person, so clearly, something has gotten under your skin. Please, tell me what's wrong."

Daphne kept her silence and composure, staring right into the man's eyes and not giving an inch. Remus stared back for a few moments, hoping that she'd say something, but it was obvious that she wouldn't. He has a lot of scars, must've gotten into a lot of fights whenever he turned. After reading those articles, I can't help but feel sorry for him as well. I can't even imagine the life he's lived.

"Go on," Remus said, eventually. "But I have to give you a warning, Daphne… If you lose control like that again, I will disqualify you. This is still a friendly competition, most of your opponents are younger than you. Keep that in mind, please."

Daphne said nothing, simply giving a nod before heading towards the exit. I won my two matches, which means that I'll be moving forward into the next stage. I think I'll go take a shower, now. I want to get this interaction with Crabbe off of me. As she passed by the large Slytherin, who was crying and being tended to by Madam Pomfrey; Daphne narrowed her eyes at him, as if warning him to remember this moment.

Crabbe shrunk in the face of someone stronger than him, which hardly surprised her. Ron won't be happy about this; he's trying to get Crabbe and Goyle to reform… Well, you know what? I don't always have to do what Ron says. I'm allowed to have my own thoughts about people, and I know that Crabbe is rotten to the core. From the day he was born, he's been treating everything around him as if it were his punching bag. He even turned on Malfoy when he got the chance! As soon as a bigger bully offered him a bigger range of victims, he stabbed his own friend in the back! Utter pig! I wish I got to throw the third Diffindo, he deserved it!

---

Pansy Parkinson's POV

Saturday 13th March, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch – Afternoon)

"Merlin's beard," Theo broke the silence, they were all watching Daphne leave. "I'm glad she's in Rank D, because I don't know about you lot, but I've gone and soiled myself a little."

"Must be Weasley's influence," Malfoy commented.

"Definitely," Blaise agreed. No, she just really dislikes Crabbe and Goyle because of what they did to Ron, and I don't blame her.

Millie and Pansy exchanged looks, giving each other subtle nods and moving away from the boys. The stands were packed, so getting through was a chore every single time. My match against Longbottom is almost up, so I should start heading down, now.

Once they had managed to move past the knees of their fellow students, they began the trip down the stands.

"I've never seen Daphne so livid," Millie suddenly said.

"Can you blame her?" Pansy asked. "After what they did to Ron? They didn't even get properly punished for that! I say, good on her! It's about time someone showed Crabbe what it feels like!"

"Ron won't like this," Millie said. "You know that, right? He… He's trying something with Crabbe and Goyle, I just don't know what it is."

"Isn't it obvious?" Pansy asked. "He feels bad for them Millie… Ron's a softie, he really is. They just lost their parents, and he feels so sorry for them that he's going out of his way to forgive them for everything. It's not right… Whatever happened to their fathers, they're still horrible boys." Pansy then decided to change the subject, she didn't particularly care for Crabbe and Goyle anymore. "So? Have you told Ron of your decision to question your parents?"

"No," Millie replied instantly. "And I'm not going to, Pansy, so don't you do it!"

"Why not?" Pansy asked. It would stop all this fighting between us!

"Because I want to do this myself," Millie replied. "If I tell Ron, you know what he'll do, right?" Take over everything, and start giving orders? "He'll take it upon himself to help me, which will only take control of the situation away from me. I have to do this myself, they're my parents."

"I know that Ron can be a control freak, sometimes, but Millie… You really ought to speak to him, first," Pansy gave her opinion. "Say what you will, but you know that Ron will solve everything within a few days-"

"I don't want an easy fix," Millie said, an air of finality mixed in. "It has to be me, not Ron."

Pansy sighed out, deciding that there was no point in beating a dead horse. I have some very head-strong friends, don't I? Pansy thought about telling Ron herself, but in the end, she decided against that as well. It would only serve to alienate Millie, and considering how hard Daphne had worked to keep Millie from just walking away; Pansy knew that bringing Ron into this would result in a fight that she couldn't simply weasel out of. I'll be forced to choose between my friends, something I've avoided doing for the most part so far.

The rest of the trip was done in silence, and just as they stepped out onto the pitch; Pansy spotted Longbottom, Granger, and Potter coming down from the Gryffindor stands. Longbottom, this should be pretty easy. He's not particularly fit, nor is he a confrontational person. He's… soft… Not that I mind such a temperament, it's nice to see that at least one boy in our class is decent most of the time.

Pansy began smiling to herself, Longbottom was definitely her favourite of the trio. Granger was too obnoxious, always correcting her during their morning runs and acting like she knew everything about anything under the sun. Potter was far too reserved, though Pansy definitely found him appealing. He was fit, arguably the best Seeker in Hogwarts, and he was polite most of the time. Still, I like a little life in my boys, and Potter's very… boring. Hard to believe, but the Boy-Who-Lived is quite a disappointment.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Millie suddenly asked. "Pans, focus, please. This is important, we need to push as many of the other students out of the competition as possible. When Ron comes back tonight, he'll be looking for anyone who's failed him. Don't end up on that list." I wonder what's so important that Ron would skip our matches… Oh, well, knowing him; he's probably fighting world-hunger right now.

"I'm smiling because I have a plan," Pansy said, putting some sway into her hips. "Why don't we go wish Longbottom some luck? It'll be good for House Unity, I think-"

"No… No, Pansy, stop that," Millie began frowning.

"Stop what?" Pansy smiled innocently, changing course and heading towards the Gryffindors. "Come on, I want to see where his head is at."

"I'm sure…" Millie drawled. "Pansy, I know what you're thinking already, and you shouldn't do it. This is not the right way to win."

"What? I'm just saying hello to him," Pansy giggled, but Millie wasn't convinced. "Okay, fine… Maybe I want to remind him that I'm an attractive young witch, and that if he's a gentleman during our Duel; I might show him my less Ladylike side."

"You want to cheat, you mean?" Millie sighed out.

"I want to win, and Longbottom sorely needs more female friends," Pansy said. Especially if Granger is all he has… He might as well make friends with a brick wall, it would share Granger's personality, and not run its mouth as much.

"He doesn't need friends like you," Millie said, giving her a knowing look. "Just be careful, I actually like Longbottom a little. He's well-mannered, and lately, he's been trying to be decent to us."

"I like him too," Pansy shot Millie a wink. "Which is why this will work, just watch."

The girls approached the trio confidently, and Potter was the first to spot them. He quickly alerted his friends, and together, they turned to face the girls at the same time.

"Bulstrode, Parkinson," Potter greeted the girls, while Granger studied them.

"Good afternoon, Potter," Pansy greeted pleasantly. "Wonderful day out, isn't it?"

"I… suppose…" Potter replied slowly, exchanging a glance with his friends. Dull as dirt… What a waste.

Pansy turned her smile and eyes towards Longbottom, who genuinely smiled back. Cute. This could actually be fun outside of the Duels, even. Longbottom isn't the same chubby boy that he was in first year, there's a bit of maturity in him, now, and honestly; it suits him.

"Are you ready for our Duel?" Longbottom asked. "I'm still surprised that I beat Michael, he's in Ravenclaw-!"

"Nonsense, Longbottom, you were brilliant," Pansy cut in, and Longbottom blinked. Corner is creepy, I don't like the look of him. Always quiet and staring at people, it's weird!

"I was… brilliant? Me?" Longbottom asked slowly, while his friends stared at Pansy with furrowed brows. Granger and Potter are making this harder than it needs to be. Time to put in some more effort, then.

"Wasn't he brilliant, Millie?" Pansy looked to her own friend for support.

"You've been practising your stunners," Millie said simply. "Your footwork still needs a lot of work, though. You tripped three separate times… Against a stronger opponent, that wouldn't have ended well for you." You know, asking her for help was my mistake… Leave the flirting to me, Millie, you're dreadful at it.

"She's right, you know?" Granger whispered to Longbottom, and Pansy immediately rolled her eyes. Boring, boring, boring! What's wrong with these girls?! We're literally standing with the fucking Chosen One and his best mate, right now! At least, try to have a personality!

"Well, I thought you were brilliant," Pansy stuck to her opinion, easily noticing that Longbottom didn't really know how to respond to compliments from the opposite sex. "And very quick! I had no idea that you had such strong legs, Neville!"

"Neville?" Granger looked visibly annoyed.

"Can I call you by your first name?" Pansy asked Longbottom, ignoring Granger.

"Oh, yeah, of course…" Longbottom looked down at his legs in confusion. "I suppose all that running is helping already, huh?"

"It is," Pansy looked him over. Getting taller, too. Hmmm, is Longbottom the ugly duckling of our class? I get the feeling that, with a bit of confidence, he could become really dapper.

Pansy decided to be a little bolder, a small part of her felt the urge to give Longbottom a much-needed push in the right direction. So, she took a step forward, and gently wrapped her fingers around his bicep. Longbottom froze, while his friends both went wide-eyed. My, my… What's this?!

"Oh," Pansy let out a delighted giggle, giving Longbottom's muscles a squeeze. Not as strong as Ron, but still; his arm feels nice and toned. It must be all that gardening! It's not easy work, that's for sure. "Are you secretly fit, Neville? I think you're hiding the perfect body under those robes from us girls."

"Um… Well, no…" Longbottom stammered, his face flushed already. "I mean, it does take some effort to dig out some roots, so I get some exercise in during my work with Professor Sprout…" Don't ramble, show me more confidence!

"Millie, do you want to have a feel?" Pansy looked back, making sure to shoot glance at Granger.

The bushy-haired witch was openly frowning at Pansy, which only egged the Slytherin on further. Jealous that I might steal your friend? Well, I might… He's relatively handsome, he's getting taller by the day, he's very polite, and he's incredibly wealthy. Sound like quite the catch, now, doesn't he?

"I'll pass," Millie said. "We should probably head back to our end, Pansy. Don't want to stay too long, do we?" No, I suppose not. I've already done my work, so I should leave before I undo it by mistake.

"I have to go," Pansy looked back to Longbottom, a coy smile gracing her lips. "We'll talk later, okay? I have some… questions… for you." And I wouldn't mind another feel, I'm pleasantly surprised with what I've found.

"Questions…?" Longbottom all but whispered, looking incredibly shy. "Um… Sure… Pansy…" Pansy?! Am I seeing some confidence already? I do good work!

Potter looked a bit surprised, but not all that bothered, whereas Granger was now frowning directly at Neville. Neville… You know what? I like how he says my name, it definitely beats my father's name.

Pansy's coy smile became a lot warmer before she turned to leave, she had enjoyed the sound of her name coming from his mouth a lot more than she had anticipated.

"Bye, Neville," Pansy waved without looking back. "Oh, and best of luck!"

"You too…" Neville muttered, as red as a beet. Sorry that I have to beat you, but I promise I'll make it up to you! I'm even looking forward to it, now!

Pansy's smile turned a little lecherous as she headed back to her spot; there was so much to enjoy within Hogwarts, and Pansy was going to live the very wildest life she could! No one is there to hold me back, now! I can do whatever I want, like I've always wanted!

---

Neville Longbottom's POV

Saturday 13th March, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch – Afternoon)

"What just happened?" Neville asked his friends, staring dumbfoundedly at Pansy's bum. Stop that, Neville!

Neville quickly turned to face his best mate, feeling guilty for eyeballing a girl so blatantly. Harry looked both confused and suspicious, his brow furrowed and his gaze intense.

"She's utterly shameless," Hermione huffed, her frown deepening. Shameless?

"That's a little harsh, isn't it?" Neville asked, feeling an odd urge to defend Pansy. "She was being friendly, that's all…"

"Friendly?" Harry asked sarcastically, cocking an eyebrow. "She was being a little more than friendly, mate."

Neville felt his face heat up, and he took on a more defensive expression. Maybe she was a little handsy, but I'm sure she meant nothing by it.

"You should stay well away from her, Neville," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "I've heard a lot of nasty rumours about her, lately. You don't want a girl like that around you; she's a bad influence." Again, isn't that a little too harsh? We hardly know anything about her. And… And, she just lost her parents…

Neville quickly smothered the horrible feeling that came whenever his mind brought up his own parents. How could he miss two strangers so much? Pansy's probably feeling horrible inside too, but she's not showing it. I can relate to that… I can't let my friends speak about a grieving girl like this, it's horribly wrong!

"Nev, I know that look," Harry said, drawing in a long breath. "Mate, we're not being overly harsh on her. Until recently, she was quite nasty towards us-"

"But we're all becoming friends, now, aren't we?" Neville countered, feeling agitated and frustrated. "We run together every single morning, but we rarely ever approach them. Pansy just took the first step, and we should respond in kind. I thought we three decided to make peace with Ron's friends, because honestly; I'm getting tired of feeling guilty whenever I want to have a chat with Ron."

Harry and Hermione exchanged looks, and although Harry looked somewhat convinced, probably due to his own personal guilt; Hermione was utterly unfazed. She really doesn't like Daphne and Pansy, does she? C'mon, Hermione… Just try, at least-!

"She is a bad influence, Neville," Hermione said firmly. "Stay away from her, please. She does this with all the boys-"

"Really? Because I haven't seen her with many boys," Neville frowned, he didn't like the implication she was making. "Harry? Have you seen Pansy doing any of the things we've heard?"

"That's mostly tripe, Hermione," Harry said, his voice awkward as he hated to choose between his friends. "I asked Seamus if he… Well, never mind… He said that he had never done anything with Parkinson, so maybe, Nev has a point…" For such a skilled Seeker, you really can't stick the landing, sometimes, Harry.

"Those rumours are just that; rumours," Neville said, standing his ground. "People like Lavender and Parvati are always starting rumours, Hermione; you know that better than most. Remember when you and Dean were secretly-?"

"It never happened," Hermione hissed, suddenly getting aggressive.

"I know! That's my point!" Neville exclaimed, attracting some attention. Lower your volume, Neville, she's still your friend. "The students at this school can be really nasty, and I'm not going to be like that ever again, Hermione… You're being very judgemental, especially when you don't know anything about her."

Hermione's expression began to darken, and a small part of Neville began to panic. Hermione was a brilliant witch, but unfortunately, many brilliant people could be brilliantly terrible, and Hermione was no exception.

"Don't worry, I'll watch his back-" Harry tried.

"Go ahead, Neville," Hermione said coldly, becoming indifferent. "I'm sure your grandmother would approve of you chasing after a harlot." A harlot?! Hermione!

Neville was appalled by the venom his friend was spewing, and he decided to make it known. He was a Longbottom, that would never change, and Longbottoms didn't stand for such intolerance in others. She, of all people, should know better!

"You should be ashamed of yourself for saying that," Neville said, disappointment heavy in his voice.

Harry's body was shrinking away in the background, but Neville ignored it, because right now; he couldn't afford to back down from Hermione. Even if her lips were starting to tremble, just like they did before she started crying.

Guilt hit him like the Hogwarts Express, and Neville's throat closed up when he realized her eyes were starting to well up.

"Hermione, I-" Neville caved almost immediately.

"Prat! I hope you lose!" Hermione snapped, turning on her heel and storming off towards the Gryffindor stands.

His guilt tripled when he saw her wiping her eyes frantically, but it was too late to chase after her.

"Pansy Parkinson and Neville Longbottom, please, make your way over to the centre," Professor Lupin called, making Neville freeze. I'm such an idiot…

"Nev, you have to go," Harry whispered, patting his back. "I'll try to talk to her, okay? Just focus on the Duel." I don't want to, anymore.

Despite feeling wretched, he knew that he couldn't pull out now. His grandmother would hear of it, and she'd send another Howler to make a fool out of him in front of the entire Great Hall. So, he manned up and headed for the sandpit, feeling awkward and in the spotlight thanks to guilt-induced paranoia.

"Neville, you got your wand?" Professor Lupin asked. Oh, right…

Neville brandished his Cherry wand, trying his best to look at Pansy with a straight face. She didn't look as playful, now… Rather, she seemed worried about him, clearly having witnessed his argument with friends. Let's just get this over with… I've completely ruined Hermione's day, despite knowing how excited she was for the Tournaments…

"Are you both ready?" Professor Lupin asked.

"Yes, Professor," Pansy replied, while Neville gave a short nod.

"Begin!" Professor Lupin started the match.

"Expelli-" Neville started, but Pansy began firing Non-Verbal stunners immediately. Her, as well?! C'mon!

Shock hit Neville like a bucket of ice-cold water, reminding him that Pansy was trained by Ron as well. How does he train so many people? And where does he do it?! Neville dodged and stumbled away from the barrage of stunners, caught off-guard and struggling to regain his footing.

"Colloshoo!" he heard her chant, she was aiming right for his feet, now.

As he barely managed to jump over the Stickfast Hex, Pansy wasted no time in returning to her onslaught. Sweet Merlin, let me get my bearings, at least!

"Protego!" Neville chanted, coming to a shaky stop after a close-call.

"Finite! Expelliarmus!" Pansy was quick to destroy his shield, and even quicker to restart her assault.

There was nothing fancy in her technique, no flair for the dramatic nor any mistakes. It was simple and efficient, just as Ron must've taught her. The next few seconds were a blur, with Neville struggling to keep up, let alone fight back.

And then, it all went black so very suddenly, and Neville didn't even have time to figure out how Pansy had managed to stun him.

---

?

Neville suddenly felt air invade his lung, and he sprang back to life with a gasp. What happened?! He looked around frantically, disorientated and his right side aching terribly. Oh, I feel like Crabbe and Goyle went to work on me… Again…

"Mr. Longbottom, please, try to not move so much," Madam Pomfrey scolded. "You were hit by a Stunning Charm, and you had a nasty landing. Do you feel sore anywhere?"

"Just my side…" Neville groaned, rubbing the sore spot with his left hand.

"Sorry, Neville," came Pansy's voice, and Neville's head quickly shot up.

She and Harry were standing nearby, both of them looking slightly worried for him. Guess Hermione was too mad to come down…

"It's okay…" Neville stood up, accepting Madam Pomfrey's help. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey, but don't worry yourself; I feel fine."

"Are you sure?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," Neville promised, and the Matron left after giving him a nod.

Neville looked back to Harry and Pansy, wondering where Bulstrode was. Probably back up in the Slytherin stands.

"Are you sure that you're all right, Nev?" Harry approached him first, followed quickly by Pansy. "You landed on your neck…" I did? Madam Pomfrey must've healed that when I was out.

"I'm okay," Neville repeated, hoping that Harry would stop fretting before Pansy started feeling guilty. "Truth be told, I don't even know how I got hit… I was dodging every Spell, I swear…"

"Oh, I sped up a little near the end," Pansy explained, and both boys waited for her to go on. "It's a technique, Ron taught it to me, actually." We were right, then. "If you get your opponent on the defensive, keep them there, and just as they start getting used to your speed; change things up suddenly. You didn't notice it, but I started firing more stunners at you. Took the wind out of me, but it worked."

Harry and Neville traded looks; the Slytherins were going to annihilate everyone, weren't they? Merlin, I just realized, we've only seen Rank D Slytherins so far… Oh, no…

"Did I cause a fight between you and Granger?" Pansy suddenly asked, one hand on her hip.

Harry pulled an awkward face, going quiet again, while Neville shuffled a little in his spot. What do I tell her? I don't want her to think she was responsible for Hermione's behaviour.

"It wasn't really a fight…" Neville lied lamely.

"I saw her marching off, Neville," Pansy said, her dark eyes fixed on his hazel ones. "Look, if I caused any trouble, I'm sorry-"

"Oh, no, no, no," Neville said quickly, panicking a little. "You didn't do anything wrong; it was my fault… I said something… harsh… to her…" Well, Harry, it seems that we both can't stick the landing. "Just, don't mind her, please? I'm glad you came over for a chat, we haven't really spoken before…" We have, but you would just say mean things and sneer at me, but let's not bring that up.

"We should fix that," Pansy began smiling, looking a lot more carefree. Huh? "Are you free right now? Our matches are finished, and I don't have any plans for the day. Want to go for a walk around the Black Lake?" Is… Is she asking me out?!

Neville felt his stomach drop to his fucking toes, and all he could do was go wide-eyed like some idiot and stare at Harry for a response. Harry, bless his heart, had already forgotten about Pansy's House, and was subtly nodding at Neville to accept the invitation from an interested member of the opposite sex. Ugh… Um… Damn, what do I say?! Should I just nod?! I'll nod!

"Or…" Pansy spoke before Neville could accept, her smile becoming almost scandalous. "We could meet up tomorrow night? I hear that the abandoned classrooms of the North Wing face the moon, and it's really a sight to behold." At night? In the abandoned North Wing? Just us two?! What's happening?!

Neville had to force his jaw to stay shut; why was a cute girl like Parkinson even speaking to him, let alone inviting him to go exploring the castle in the dead of night?

"Neville's actually busy today, but he's completely free tomorrow night," Harry blurted out, and this time, Neville's jaw did drop. HARRY?! "He has absolutely no plans, whatsoever!" What have you done?! I… I'm not ready… I don't even know how to start talking to girls…

"Oh, really?" Pansy looked to Potter. "So, tomorrow night, then?"

"Tomorrow night works for him," Harry nodded; Neville had never seen his best mate act so friendly towards a Slytherin girl before. "Nev, you're free, right?"

"I… Um… yes…" Neville managed, feeling horribly anxious already. "I have homework to finish up today…" I don't… Wait, I'm already lying to her? Oh, Merlin…

"Meet me in the Entrance Hall at ten," Pansy said, locking eyes with Neville again. "Come alone, okay?"

"Okay…" Neville muttered, staring into her eyes while fidgeting with his hands. This is really happening? To me?! Unbelievable…

"I'm looking forward to getting to know more about you, Neville," Pansy said rather pleasantly.

"Likewise…" Neville nodded shakily, trying his best to give her a smile that wasn't ridden with timidness. Likewise?! That's all I can come up with?

"Bye, boys," Pansy bid them farewell, giving them a wave and a wink before leaving for the Slytherin stands.

The moment she was out of earshot, Harry smacked Neville's arm and started smiling like an idiot. Neville's face burned hotter than ever due to his best mate's enthusiasm, it really set everything in stone for Neville. I wonder what she's planning… Is she interested in me? Or, is she just trying to be my friend?

Doubt and uncertainty were the two core feelings he was going through right now, but there was also ample excitement and curiosity.

"You got a date!" Harry congratulated. "That's bloody brilliant, mate! Good on you!"

"Is it a date?" Neville had to ask; his voice almost cracking. "Merlin, Harry… Why did you do that?!"

"Do what?" Harry asked, still smiling. "I thought that's what best mates do, right? You don't want to go on a date with a girl?"

"Of course, I do," Neville replied hurriedly. "But… I've no idea what I'm doing…"

"So? I don't think anyone does before they actually go on a date," Harry said. "Oh, go on, Nev! We're always listening to Dean and Seamus talk about their experiences… It's a bit pathetic, really? You and I don't speak to any girls, save for Ginny, Luna, and Hermione… But they're not really girls, so…"

"I would caution you not to repeat that, mate," Neville said, even more confused thanks to Harry's bizarre thoughts on what a 'girl' was. "And as for Pansy… Bloody hell, what have I gotten into? And Hermione… She's going to lose it, Harry."

"Let's not tell her, then," Harry suggested.

"What? We can't lie to our best-friend, Harry," Neville said. "She'll be even more upset if she finds out from someone else!"

"Then, let's tell her," Harry suggested, shrugging.

"We can't do that, Harry, she'll kill me!" Neville groaned.

"So, you want her to know, but not really?" Harry asked slowly, and Neville let out a long breath. Should I just tell Pansy that I can't do this? I don't want to fight with Hermione, she's been my friend for a lot longer, and I hate it when we have these little spats. "Mate, did you hit your head when you fell? I can call Madam Pomfrey back, if you like-"

"Stop it, Harry," Neville clicked his tongue, and Harry smiled cheekily. "I think I have to tell Pansy about what's going on…"

"I think you should go on the date, instead," Harry said. "You obviously want to Nev, and Hermione… She was being a bit too judgemental; you were right about that. Maybe I was being judgemental too, I don't know… Just be careful, all right? And let me know if you need anything from me."

"Thanks, Harry…" Neville felt slightly better, at least, he had Harry watching his back. "You're a good friend, mate." The very best.

"Don't worry about it, Nev," Harry smiled, gesturing Neville to follow him. "Let's go sit down, yeah? You should probably start thinking about how you're going to woo Parkinson-"

"Shut up, Harry," Neville snorted, lightly shoving the shorter wizard. "Merlin, my palms are sweating… Is that normal?"

"You should probably wash those before you hold her hand," Harry suggested, and Neville gave him a deadpan look. "Sorry, that was the last one… Just don't let her slither into your pants on the first date, I hear it's poor form." Wow… This is going to get annoying very quickly, isn't it? "Get it?! 'Slither in'?!"

"Yes, Harry…" Neville sighed out. "You're only the millionth person to make that terrible joke…"

"I'll come up with a few good ones tonight," Harry promised. "This is all very sudden, you know? Who knew that Parkinson was into you? I always thought that she was a bit of a snob." Yeah, who knew? I wonder why she's even interested in me, I'm as average as they come… Maybe even below average, actually…

---

Theodore Nott's POV

Saturday 13th March, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch – Evening)

It was starting to get late, and as such, the Headmaster had Conjured up brilliant balls of white light in order to illuminate the Quidditch Pitch. The Professors had organised a picnic for the students, taking place right after the Rank D matches had concluded; to be continued after Easter Break.

Slytherin had done extraordinarily well, no one could refute this fact. They had only suffered a handful of defeats, with the majority of the second years alongside Pansy and Daphne making it onto the next stage. And now, it's time to top their success.

The Rank C Tournament had just started, with Lisa Turpin facing Finnegan, of all people. The brute was overpowering her even at this moment, relentless in his attempts to stun her. In all honesty, Turpin was not a very talented Duellist, mostly because she wasn't throwing out any Spell. Like none… She's just fucking running around. I'm glad Ron's not here to see this, he's suffered enough for one lifetime.

Still, there was opportunity here…

Turpin was going to lose, and since his match with Wayne Hopkins was up next; Theo would get to cross paths with her. And offer her my shoulder to cry on. Theo grinned as she lost her footing, the match was drawing to an end. Stop dodging, woman! Get hit! Get hit right in the fucking mouth! The worse the injury, the better!

And then, it happened… Finnegan managed to catch her with a Disarming Charm to the chest, sending the brunette witch soaring through the air. Bloody hell, that's a powerful Disarming Charm, right there. Finnegan's got brute strength mastered already… Perfect! Great shot, mate! Now, I get to take mine!

"Match!" Professor Lupin called; Turpin had dropped her wand during her flight. "Seamus Finnegan wins!"

The Gryffindors wasted no time in cheering, while the Ravenclaws began to boo Finnegan. The Irish wizard didn't pay the eagles any mind, he instead turned to face his House and threw his arms into the air. Yes, boast like a prick to rub the salt in! Good!

Turpin stood up, rubbing her chest and scowling at Finnegan's back. She then shook her head before making her way towards Theo, ready to re-join her friends and brood about her early termination. Theo slowly moved himself into her path, putting on a sympathetic smile.

"You're really quick, Turpin," Theo started, taking the girl by surprise. Eh, she's cute enough, I like that she's slender, not to mention her hair. A perfect shade of chocolate brown. "Shame that Finnegan's a bit of a brute… Are you all right?"

"Oh, I'm okay, Nott," Turpin came to a stop, returning his smile. "And thanks, you're not wrong about Finnegan. He didn't even give me a chance to try anything…" Oh, he did. You're just garbage.

"Tell you what?" Theo's smile widened; his voice playful. "I'll kick Hopkins' arse, and then, I'll be matched up with Finnegan. I'll get him back for you."

"Really?" Turpin laughed, her face lighting up. "And you'll do this out of the goodness of your heart, will you?"

"I'm a giver, what can I say?" Theo showed his pearly whites. "So? Should I give him boils?"

"Yes, boils for sure," Turpin giggled. "You're funny, Nott." And handsome, you can't forget handsome.

"I'll let you go, then," Theo stepped out of her way. "Don't forget to cheer for me."

"I won't, and best of luck," Turpin gave an adorable wave as she left for the Ravenclaw stands. Sorry, Finnegan, you were at the wrong place at the right time. Right for me, that is.

"Theodore Nott and Wayne Hopkins, you're up," Professor Lupin called, and Theo began heading over with a relaxed smile in place. Make it quick, Theo. Don't give away your best Spells early, save them for the next stage. You lucked out with your matches, Hopkins then Finnegan. Just perfect!

As Theo reached the centre, he was greeted by Hopkins himself, who had arrived from the other end.

"May the best man win, Nott," Hopkins smirked, twirling his wand in his fingers. Oh, he will, princess.

"You stand between me and my prey, Hopkins…" Theo whispered, narrowing his eyes. "I'm going to fucking murder you."

Hopkins' mouth parted in disbelief as Theo finished; he hadn't expected such a disturbing response. Wow, that worked? Is this why Ron's such a cunt when he Duels? He wins before the match even starts? Damn, is it possible to respect someone this much? What a lad!

"Are you two ready?" Professor Lupin asked, looking slightly worn out. There's still so many Duels to go. Shame to be you, mate.

"Ready," Theo gave a nod, taking on his aggressive stance. Remember, Theo: Fast and ferocious, that's you! Rip this bastard another arsehole!

Hopkins gave a nod, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Begin!" Professor Lupin called, and Theo did just that.

He began throwing Non-Verbal stunners at his absolute fastest right out of the gate, hoping to take Hopkins by surprise. It worked for the most part, as Hopkins raised a shield rather than bother dodging so many stunners. Now! Wingardium Leviosa!

Theo aimed his wand at the sand to Hopkins left, slashing it harshly and sending sharp specks of sand blowing into Hopkins' face. The Hufflepuff jerked back in surprise, blinking rapidly and covering his face with his left arm. Theo didn't relent, sending sand and stunners at Hopkins without mercy.

"Finite Incantatem," Theo suddenly sent forth a sparkly red ball, which shattered Hopkins' shield. "Stupefy!"

Much to Theo's surprise, Hopkin dove onto his side rather dramatically, dodging the stunner in the nick of time. He's on all fours, Theo! Get him!

"Herbivicus!" Theo chanted, twirling his wand and dragging it up.

Roots shot out of the sand, the make-shift arena sat atop Mother Earth, after all. Hopkins was seized within mere moments, his knees tied tightly together and his wand hand struggling against a particularly violent root. Stupefy!

The stunner struck Hopkins in his side, effectively knocking the boy out right where he was. I'm a fucking God!

"Match!" Professor Lupin called, while Snape gave Theo an approving nod. Just name me your second-in-command whenever you're ready, Sir.

The Slytherins were quick to break into cheers, and Theo was even quicker to bask in the glow of his victory. This is going to be too easy! At least, until I get higher up on the ladder. Then, I'll have to put in some real effort… Especially if I have to go up against Millicent. Something tells me that she's not going to hold back on me, not in the slightest.

---

Draco Malfoy's POV

Saturday 13th March, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch – Evening)

Draco knew that he didn't have the best luck in the world, however, getting randomly selected to go up against Granger for his first match seemed a bit like overkill. And what made it worse was the fact that she was in a foul mood, thanks to whatever Pansy fucking Parkinson had done to her. She's going to take it out on me, I have no doubts about that. My best bet is to outlast her, she's not exactly in good shape, whereas I've built up quite the stamina thanks to Weasley's lessons.

"Are you both ready?" Lupin asked, looking between the two.

"Yes," Draco replied, while Granger gave a short nod.

"Begin!" Lupin started the match. Put some distance between yourself and her, first, Draco.

As it turned out, Granger had the same idea; leaving a massive gap between the two very early in the Duel. Spells began flying quickly after that, with both Duellists attempting to stun the other, and occasionally, adding a different Spell in-between to try and catch the other out. Strangely enough, it was Draco who was using the 'safer' Jinxes and Hexes, as compared to Granger, who had already thrown out three separate Jelly-Fingers Curses and even a Sponge-Knees Curse.

Draco, despite Granger's aggression, managed to keep a level-head. He thought of his Duels against Weasley, and how often he lost to the redhead simply because Draco was intimidated by him. Granger is a kitten compared to that lion.

"Mimblewimble!" Draco chanted, seeing an opening to land a cheeky hit.

He couldn't use a stunner, or, a Disarming Charm; both Spells travelled much slower than what he had used: The Tongue-Tying Curse. The goal, this time, was not to end the match, but rather, regain his footing and attempt to close the distance a little. He had not counted on her moving away so quickly, perhaps her riled up emotions were giving her an advantage? Damn you, Parkinson!

The Tongue-Tying Curse barely missed her; she had managed to step aside at the very last moment. Still, Draco's plan had worked, and he wasted no time in rushing forward as she was put on the defensive. His Non-Verbal stunners had improved drastically over the last few weeks, and using his newly-earned Mastery; Draco put the 'brightest witch of their year' to the test.

It didn't take long for Granger to put her shield up, going back to what she was comfortable with. I knew it, she still believes shields are the better alternative, despite everyone else telling her otherwise.

"Finite Incantatem," Draco suddenly chanted in-between his stunners, shattering Granger's shield before slash his wand violently; pelting the Gryffindor with sand before restarting his assault.

Granger fell to one-knee, her shield up and her eyes wide with surprise. She had underestimated him, just as everyone else did. Well, not everyone…

"You're quick, you're intelligent, not to mention the wealth you were outright born with… Draco, If you just start trying harder; I think you'll grow up to be a very powerful wizard," Draco heard Weasley's voice, it was another one of Weasley's endless lectures, but these words had stuck with Draco. Maybe even more powerful than father, that's what Weasley said.

As Draco's advantage continued to grow, the Slytherins let out loud whistles, cheering for him instead of sneering and laughing at him, as he had become quite accustomed to. Unfortunately, their unforeseen support took Draco by surprise just enough for Granger to fire a desperate stunner at him. Move!

Draco was forced to cut his losses, stopping his barrage momentarily in order to stay in the fight. By the time he managed to restart, Granger had shot up to her feet; an almost feral look on her face.

"Incendio Tempestas!" Granger all but shouted, waving her wand above her head before bringing it down towards Draco.

Gasps filled the Quidditch Pitch, but they were quickly drowned out by the roar of the flames that Granger had summoned above her head. What the fuck?! Unbeknownst to Draco and Granger, Snape and Lupin were slowing edging closer to them; planning to interfere the moment something went wrong.

"Protego Maxima!" Draco managed just before the flames could reach him, putting up a bright white barrier between him and the lunging fire.

His feet skidded backwards, and he had to grit his teeth just to maintain the barrier. Granger's Spell, whatever it was, was overwhelmingly powerful, and Draco knew that if he didn't do something; he was going to get burnt to a crisp! Mental bitch! What's wrong with her?! This is just for sport! She's trying to fucking murder me!

All of a sudden, the flames stopped pushing Draco backwards; their unrelenting charge was finally beginning to lose power dramatically. As the flames dwindled beyond his cracked barrier, Draco finally saw Granger on the other side, kneeling and panting for air. She… She couldn't control it? It was too much for her!

That's when it hit Draco, she had used a Spell that was beyond her current skill with a wand; and although it had nearly overpowered Draco, he had done the one thing he set out to do.

He had outlasted her. Don't just stand there staring at her, Weasley will knock your head off if you lose now!

"Match!" Snape called, surprising Draco, who quickly stopped powering his barrier in order to face his godfather. "Lupin, check on Granger, now."

Draco looked back towards Granger in a hurry, seeing Lupin rush over to the Gryffindor's side; speaking in whispers and rubbing her back.

"Draco Malfoy wins!" his godfather announced, stunning the entire student-body.

"That's rubbish!" one of the Weasley twins shouted. "She still has her wand!"

"You're just giving Slytherin another win!" some Ravenclaw accused. "This is so unfair!" Unfair? Weasley worked us to the fucking bone! Do you have any idea how it feels to get punched in the ribs by someone like him?! He never holds back, because, get this; 'I can put you back together right after'!

"Draco?" Snape called in his low voice, coming up from behind him. "Easy, boy. It is over."

Draco finally realized that he was panting as well, shaking even. She almost killed me…

"What the bloody hell was that?" Draco finally asked, tensing his body in order to stop himself from shaking.

"That, Draco, is Gryffindor recklessness at its finest," Snape replied coldly, his eye returning to his godson. "You did well, however. Well done."

Draco's shoulders slumped from the relief that came with defeating Granger, but he had never been prouder of himself, especially because Snape, in his own way, was also proud of Draco.

"Go, you and I will have supper together, tonight," Snape ordered. "We will speak more, then."

"Yes, godfather," Draco let out his last shaky breath. I won… I actually defeated Granger…

His lips quirked upwards as he heard the cheering of his House-mates, but it was the discouraging comments from the other Houses that pleased Draco the most. I hope Weasley has a good day, I want to be able to tell him of my victory!

---

Hermione Granger's POV

Saturday 13th March, 1994 (The Broom Shed – Evening)

She had lost on her very first match, and now; she was out of the Tournament completely…

And who had defeated her? The bully who had made her question her own self-worth on more than one occasion…

Hermione hadn't cried so much since she was eight, when a flock of horrible girls in her class had hit her and cut her wild hair with their scissors. That was the very first time Hermione had come to realize that she was different, because, by the time she walked home, crying her heart out; her Magic had regrown her hair and healed all of her bruises. Why am I even thinking about that day?

Hermione let out another sob, rubbing her eyes clear with her sleeve. She knew the answer to her question already… Hermione knew all too well. I haven't felt this worthless since those girls cornered me… How could I lose to Malfoy?! This is the worst day of my life!

Hermione's shame didn't simply end with her defeat; it was made worse by the laughter and cheers of the Slytherins, many of whom were no doubt pleased to see a Mud-Blood lose to the Heir of a 'Prominent Family'. She had never been a graceful loser, and this time had been no different… When Malfoy had walked over to her, a smug smile plastered on her face; Hermione had been unable to handle the humiliation.

Hermione had broken down in tears before shaking Malfoy's hand; running away shortly after in order to hide from the eyes of her peers. This was supposed to be her day, where she finally proved that she was Ron's equal; instead, she had only proven that Ron's 'students' were superior to her as well. He's been giving them all lessons, and no one is calling this out?! How is this fair?! His mentor hired him an Auror! Ordinary people can't afford such an unfair advantage-!

The sound of scratching broke Hermione out of her misery, if only for a moment. There was a cat sitting on the ledge outside, looking into the broom shed and scratching the glass with her sharp claws. It looked terribly familiar, but it wasn't until it looked into her eyes that she realized that this was no ordinary cat. Professor McGonagall?!

Hermione shot up to her feet, clearing her eyes again in the hopes of looking somewhat presentable. The cat didn't seem to care much for her state, as it purred before jumping out of sight. Oh… It wasn't her…

"You're losing it, Hermione," she muttered to herself, sniffling again.

"Miss. Granger, may I enter?" came Professor McGonagall's voice, followed by a solid knock at the door.

Hermione nearly shrieked out of panic; the Head of Gryffindor had tracked her down? Is it because I ran away crying? Even I know that I wasn't a good sportsman about my loss…

Drawing in a steadying breath, Hermione unlocked the broom shed and took a step back; her head lowered out of shame.

"How did you find me, Professor?" Hermione asked, her voice low and defeated.

"The Headmaster never lost you, Miss. Granger," Professor McGonagall entered the shed, closing the door behind her with a wave of her hand. The Headmaster never lost me? So… He can really tell where we are at any given moment? That's a bit scary…

"Am I in trouble?" Hermione asked, speaking even more quietly.

"Have done anything to land yourself in trouble?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"…yes…" Hermione mumbled. "I'm sorry for running away… like that…"

"Yes, it was not very Gryffindor of you," Professor McGonagall stated, never one to mince her words.

Hermione shrunk a little, feeling even worse about how her day had turned out. It's all Neville's fault… He's not trying to be friendly with Parkinson, he just knows that she's easy-

"Miss Granger, is everything all right?" Professor McGonagall asked. "I saw that you had a disagreement with Mr. Potter and Mr. Longbottom, and that it involved Miss. Bulstrode and Miss. Parkinson. Did that affect your match? You lost control over your own Magic."

Just the name of the raven-haired Slytherin was enough to make Hermione frown; she had no right to flirt with Neville! Not after two years of treating him like he's nothing! And the worst part is; he's falling for it like every other boy would! I thought he was better than that… That he had standards!

"Miss Granger, I am becoming concerned, now," Professor McGonagall took another step forward, her lips thinned. "Who taught you Incendio Tempestas?"

Hermione blinked at that, is this why she had been tracked down? I can't hide things from her, it'll get me into actual trouble.

"I… I burrowed a book on Charms from the Library…" Hermione decided to confess. "The Advantages of the Fire-Making Charm…"

"Ah, I see," Professor McGonagall sounded oddly pleased, but Hermione paid it no mind. "How long have you been practising this Spell, Miss. Granger?"

"Since Ron's lightning display… on Monday…" Hermione replied. "I… I wanted to wield powerful Magic, like him… But I couldn't control it, or, stop it…"

"You nearly killed Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall didn't hold back again, making Hermione wince from guilt. She's right… For a moment, I really thought that I'd made a horrible mistake… But he stopped it, all by himself…

She couldn't help but remember her own panic as her flames had viciously lunged at Malfoy, and how they refused to listen to her as she all but begged them to relent. They wanted to kill him; she could feel it… It was that horrible feeling that had overwhelmed her, causing the Spell to become unstable and die out.

Perhaps it even played a part in her response to her loss? No… I forgot all about nearly killing Malfoy the moment he was announced as the winner. What's wrong with me?

"I'm sorry for using that Spell… I should've practised more before using it in a Duel, Professor," Hermione apologized.

"The only person you owe an apology to, is Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said. I'm not doing that! Ever! "However, given his past behaviour towards you; I am happy to put this incident to bed at this very moment."

"Really?" Hermione couldn't help but sound relieved.

"I will, however, ask you not to be so reckless in the future," Professor McGonagall added. "I am glad that you stepped out of your comfort zone for a change, Miss. Granger; it shows that you are beginning to mature, but let's not cook any Slytherins to prove this new-found maturity, shall we?" Maturity? She thinks I'm mature?!

"Of course, Professor," Hermione said, slightly surprised by her praise. She was praising me, right?

"You are a brilliant witch, Hermione," Professor McGonagall said, her voice almost gentle, now. "But you are being held back by your pride and need to prove yourself. I know this because I have also been where you are now."

"You have?" Hermione found that hard to believe.

"We must all start somewhere," Professor McGonagall told her. "I too had a rival who I wished to surpass, and just like you; I chose to focus more on him than on myself. It proved… troublesome… later in my life."

Professor McGonagall then put her hand on Hermione's shoulder, while the younger Gryffindor stood rooted to her spot. No Professor had spoken to her as if she were their peer, and Hermione found herself too gratified and too astonished to form words.

"True Mastery can only be achieved once you understand that there are many different ways to achieve your goals, Hermione," Professor McGonagall continued. "Those who remain fixed in their thinking never make substantial progress, as they cannot even begin to look at the problem in a different way. Mr. Weasley is indeed a very impressive young wizard, but not because of the Magical might he has displayed repeatedly. He is impressive because he adapts, because he does not give up if his first method doesn't work. He focuses on himself, and what he can do to better himself, which is why his skill continues to grow rapidly."

Professor McGonagall than drew in a sharp breath, giving Hermione a meaningful look right after.

"I will always advocate for healthy competition; however, I do not wish to see you squander your potential in an effort to 'one-up' him," Professor McGonagall continued. "If you wish to prove yourself his equal, or, even his better; then you must start by discovering more about yourself. What are your strengths? But more importantly, what are your weaknesses? You must know yourself in order to know your limits, do you understand?"

Hermione simply nodded, thinking very hard about her Professor's words. I feel like I'm being mentored by her… What is happening right now?! I thought she'd be upset with me for doing a runner after losing.

"Good," Professor McGonagall said, removing her hand and taking a step back. "I will send you my personal notes on the Fire-Storm Charm, and hopefully; they will aid you in Mastering this very difficult Spell."

"You'd do that? For me?" Hermione was speechless, but extremely grateful. "Thank you, Professor… I don't know what to say-"

The old witch raised her hand, stopping Hermione.

"Thank me by being more honest with yourself, Miss. Granger," Professor McGonagall turned to leave. Oh… She's gone back to calling me 'Miss. Granger', again. "I am eager to see what you do with my advice."

And just like that, Professor McGonagall was gone; leaving Hermione with a strange mix of joy and sorrow. She was still upset over her loss, even now, but her favourite Professor had gone out of her way to reach out to Hermione, and that was enough to sooth her wounded ego. I should stop focusing on Ron, then? But, if I do that, won't I lose track over his progress? Wait… That's exactly what Professor McGonagall just warned me about. Oh, this is not going to be easy, is it?

Hermione wiped at her eyes again; done with crying for today. I should go back to my room, and write down my strengths and weaknesses. If I have a written list, I'm sure that will help me keep my focus on self-improvement. I deserve to be a part of the Wizarding World, and before I graduate, everyone will believe that! I swear it!

---

Millicent Bulstrode's POV

Saturday 13th March, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch – Evening)

It had been a strange day, to say the least…

Malfoy had bested Granger, somehow, and it was looking like his 'exile' was finally coming to its end. Ron will make sure of that tonight, when he hears about Malfoy's victory. In all honesty, Millie had not expected much from the pale blonde, and neither had any of the other Slytherins, which spoke volumes of how low Malfoy had fallen during the last three years. I still remember when he thought he'd conquer Hogwarts, ruling over Slytherin because of his father's wealth and influence. It's hard to believe he's not that person anymore, but the evidence is right in front of me.

She was certainly impressed, especially with the strength of Malfoy's Shield Charm. Granger was not playing around, the Spell she had attempted to use would turn Ron green with envy, and it had nearly turned Malfoy into a crisp. This did not sit well with the Slytherins, of course, but the rest of the school hardly seemed to care, which, again, spoke volumes of how little people cared for Malfoy.

Why was Millie thinking about this, exactly? Why had she suddenly become fixated on Malfoy after his Duel? Because he endured, despite all the hate and ostracism; Malfoy made it. And maybe, if he made it; then so can I. She looked up to the stands, seeing Malfoy sitting with Theo and Pansy. He wasn't speaking, as neither Theo nor Pansy cared much for his presence, and yet, there was a smile on his face.

Millie recognized that smile all too well; it was coming from the sense of accomplishment that he was basking in at the moment.

She missed that feeling terribly…

Slowly, Millie turned her attention back to Blaise's Duel against Padma Patil, his ex-girlfriend, if you could really call her that. Neither of them was trying too hard against the other, keeping it civil after Snape's very clear warning against using Spells beyond one's skill. Granger almost killed his godson… She's dead… Snape is never going to let this go, he looked downright murderous after she ran off in tears.

As Millie watched Blaise begin pushing Patil back, using his experience and naturally stronger build to overpower her; she suddenly came down with the realization that Blaise would be Duelling against Malfoy if he won. We'll lose a Slytherin from the race, then. It can't be helped, though I do wonder who'll win. Probably Blaise, he's been training for longer, and when he really tries; he can even give me a run for my money.

Millie wondered who she would face after defeating Marcus Belby, a fourth year Ravenclaw who was known for his love of desserts and anything sweet. Something told her that her first match would be easy, whereas the second one would put her skills to the test. As long as I'm not up against another Slytherin, it'll be all right. I don't want to hurt our chances of winning in any way.

---

Draco Malfoy's POV

Saturday 13th March, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch – Late Evening)

Draco felt exhausted, and he already knew that he wasn't going to defeat Blaise; no matter how hard he tried. Blocking Granger's Spell had taxed him heavily, and even now; he could feel soreness creeping into his muscles again.

Madam Pomfrey had suggested that he should throw in the towel, as risking injury in order to keep his pride was not a wise decision, according to her. Draco thought very differently, because he already knew what would happen if he threw in the towel. All the goodwill he had earned today would be lost in an instance, and when Weasley eventually discovered that someone from Slytherin had given up before the Duel; there would be hell to pay. Quitters are the only people Weasley hates more than… than people like mother and father…

Draco frowned a little to himself, his growing friendship with Weasley was starting to cause problems with his head. He wanted to see where it was going, and it was not lost on him that Weasley had never gone back on his word; protecting Draco from his bullies and even giving him the tools to rebuild his standing within the House.

Draco was grateful… And because of that; he also felt horribly guilty. What would mother and father say? They'd be horrified… I want to keep associating with a Weasley… Hell, I even look forward to his occasional appearances, now. Even if he doesn't say anything, it's still feels… good… to know that he's nearby. It makes me feel… safe…

Draco's frown deepened, just as another pang of guilt struck him.

What the fuck was he doing?!

Making friends with a Blood-Traitor, going out of his way to spend more time with said Blood-Traitor… Draco didn't even feel the need to prove himself superior, anymore, as Weasley's words were beginning to make more and more sense. Draco never wanted to make anyone feel what he had felt at Flint's hands, and only now was he strong enough to admit that he had brought all of his problems onto his own head by acting like a thug.

"What's the matter with you?" Blaise suddenly asked, he was standing next to Draco as they waited for their match.

Blaise had beaten Patil rather easily, even if he had spent most of the match giving her a 'fair go'. It was odd for some to see Blaise give another person a chance to enjoy themselves, but Draco knew that, despite his usual aloofness; Blaise wasn't like Weasley in the slightest. He still had a soft spot for Patil, it was far too obvious. Weasley would have broken her face within two seconds… He has no mercy in him, none! It doesn't matter that they're friends, he'd hurt her, I know it. And then, he'd shrug and say something like 'Madam Pomfrey's right there, why are you complaining?'…

"Did you hear me?" Blaise asked. "What's wrong? You seem… off…"

"It's nothing…" Draco replied, and Blaise cocked an eyebrow.

"You're in pain," Blaise stated, his voice devoid of sympathy. "Your left hand is shaking, as well." Shit! "I've seen this before; Ron gets the shakes as well when he pushes himself too far."

Draco quickly put his hands in his pockets, the Professors would not allow him to compete if they suspected anything was amiss. Draco had done his best to play off his exhaustion; he had to face Blaise, no matter what. And like Weasley always says, 'losing is a part of winning'. I might lose to Blaise, but I'll lose knowing that I defeated Granger, something that I've never done before. In anything. And I didn't cheat, either! I beat her fair and-

"I'm going to tell Lupin about your shaking hand," Blaise suddenly said.

"What?" Draco hissed. "Why?!"

"Because you're being an idiot," Blaise replied simply. "You're going to get hurt, and I'll get blamed for it-"

"You can't tell anyone," Draco felt his temper spike. "Don't you dare, Zabini!"

"Why?" Blaise asked.

"Because… Because I worked hard to get here…" Draco admitted, though very reluctantly. "And I don't want the others to think that I quit."

It was no secret that his old friends still saw Draco as an outsider, someone who had ruined their group's unity with his unwelcome problems, but Draco no longer cared about their opinions. Weasley wants me to stay, and that's that. None of them can do a thing to send me away, not unless I give Weasley a reason to throw me out, and that's not happening.

"You mean, you don't want Ron to think that you quit," Blaise hit the nail on the head. "Tell me, if you get hurt out there-"

"Are you scared to face me?" Draco asked, deciding to goad Blaise into the Duel.

"We've Duelled before, Malfoy," Blaise reminded him. "Have you won even once against me, in a proper Duel?" No… "Whatever, I was only being courteous. If you want to go up there and get hurt, I will gladly oblige you."

"Match!" came Lupin's voice, and the Slytherins burst into cheers over Theo's victory.

Draco looked back to the arena; Finnegan lay unconscious in the middle of the arena, his skin covered in boils. The Pimple-Jinx and a stunner? Was Theo trying to make a point? The weedy Slytherin was smirking arrogantly as he made his way over to them, shooting Blaise a wink.

"That's how you do it, Blaise," Theo laughed, smacking Blaise on the arm as he walked past them. "Theodore Nott; C-Rank Champion!"

"We'll see, mate," Blaise smirked, heading towards the arena before he was called. "C'mon, Malfoy… Let's get this over with."

Draco followed Blaise into the make-shift arena, moving into his position and tensing up in order to not shake for a few moments. I can do this. If I'm careful, I'll find an opening to exploit, eventually.

"Are you both ready?" Lupin asked, and Blaise gave a curt nod.

Draco, on the other hand, looked towards his godfather, who was standing further in the back. His grey eyes met Snape's black one, and when his godfather gave him a subtle nod; Draco knew that he couldn't come out about the growing pain in his limbs and chest.

"Draco?" Lupin looked to the young wizard. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," Draco replied, taking on his stance.

"Begin!" Lupin announced, and Blaise wasted no time in firing a Non-Verbal Knockback Jinx at Draco.

Draco waved his wand, summoning a Non-Verbal shield to block the Spell. He's still close to me, and if I catch him off-guard, I could end this quickly! Using Weasley's trick, Draco shoved his shield forward immediately after summoning it.

Blaise didn't even bat an eye as he dismantled it with a quick Finite, he had clearly anticipated Draco's move the moment he had summoned that shield. The two tried to stun each other at the same time, and just like that; they began their dance.

Draco steadily moved backwards as he dodged and fired his own Spells, hoping to put more distance between them in order to have more time to react. His wand arm was starting to hurt quite a lot, but Draco pushed through the pain; he had become quite accustomed to discomfort over the last year. Still, I don't think I can take much more of this… I feel so drained, like there's an emptiness inside me that can't be filled. Does Weasley always feel this way at the end of every day? Fucking hell, why does he do this to himself-?

A stunner suddenly shot past his head, bringing him back into the fight. Fuck, I'm getting distracted-

"Incendio!" Blaise suddenly chanted, slashing his wand and sending forth a wave of flames. You have got to be joking?! Really, Blaise?! More fucking fire?!

Blaise suddenly became relentless; he knew that Draco was on his last leg, after all, and he had already grown bored of Duelling for the day. The fire was far too wide-spread to effectively dodge, something that Blaise knew quite well. He wanted to put Draco on the defensive, and it worked, as Draco had no choice but to erect another shield to protect himself.

The fiery wave washed over Draco's shield like a tsunami, pushing the Malfoy Heir back due to his inability to brace for the impact. Just as Draco stumbled back onto his arse, Blaise sent forth another wave to burn him. Reacting as quickly as he could, Draco managed to summon a pathetic shield just in time.

"Finite! Incendio!" Blaise chanted, advancing on Draco as he continued his attack.

Draco could do little but try to hold on just a little longer, just long enough so people would not call him weak for losing so quickly. I can still win this… I just need move away from the edge-

Something hit him square in the chest, like an ironclad punch, sending him reeling through the air and out of the arena. The world began spinning as Draco lost control over his limbs, the Disarming Charm that had managed to shatter his shield and hit him had definitely cracked a rib, or, two. The pain was sharp and instant, and it knocked the wind out of him completely.

Draco didn't even feel the impact of his rough landing, everything turned black well before that.

---

Millicent Bulstrode's POV

Saturday 13th March, 1994 (The Quidditch Pitch – Late Evening)

"He'll be all right, though, won't he?" Millie asked Madam Pomfrey.

"Your friend will recover, have no doubt about that," Madam Pomfrey replied, she had just sent Malfoy to the Hospital Wing in a stretcher. He's not my friend, I'm just… worried about a fellow Slytherin, that's all.

Blaise's Disarming Charm had enough power behind it to bruise Malfoy's ribs, and the way he had landed on his head had made even the Gryffindors wince and cry out for help. Snape, despite his many disabilities, had crossed the distance within mere blinks, after which he had personally healed Draco before handing him over to Madam Pomfrey.

"Millicent Bulstrode and Harry Potter, we're ready for you," Professor Lupin called, pulling Millie's attention towards the arena. Harry Potter himself… I was right about my second match putting me to the test; he defeated Terry Boot within a minute. He's been practising, and I already know that he's much faster than me. I might have to use something stronger than a stunner to bring him down.

Millie made her way over to her spot, watching Potter do the same. The atmosphere was already growing intense, with the Slytherin and Gryffindor stands shouting at each other. Millie knew that, if she lost this particular Duel; her House-mates would be less than pleased. Not to mention Ron, my parents, and Professor Snape, who is literally standing behind me.

Millie shot a quick look back, paling slightly when she saw Snape staring at her intently. Yeah, if I lose to Potter; he's going to give me multiple detentions.

"Are you both ready?" Professor Lupin asked.

"Yes, Professor," they replied at the same time.

"Then, begin!" Professor Lupin said, igniting the crowd and the Duel.

"Expelliarmus!" Potter chanted immediately, while Millie ducked and fired a Non-Verbal stunner.

They both dodged the other's Spell at the same time, but Millie knew that she already had the upper hand. Her Non-Verbal Spells were stronger than Potter's, and if she could find a way to slow him down; she knew that she could end this quickly.

For almost a minute, they traded all manner of Jinxes and Hexes, with Potter constantly moving around at an alarming speed. He doesn't just dodge, he runs away completely… It's hard to hit him, especially because he's got really good aim, even from that far a distance. Bloody hell, does he practise often? Or, is he naturally that strong?

Millie rolled to the side, keeping her body low in order to throw Spells at Potter's feet and avoid his overuse of the Disarming Charm. The bespectacled wizard managed to dodge everything that she threw his way, however, thanks to his Seeker reflexes, but Millie wasn't deterred. She had read, in many different books on Duelling and even Muggle Boxing, that a fight was fought on two fronts; the mind and the body.

She might not have Potter's natural athleticism, but what she did have was stamina and patience. Let him keep running around, Millie. He will get tired, eventually, and that's when you'll strike.

"Ventus!" Millie chanted, moving her head away from yet another Disarming Charm before sending forth a gust of wind at her opponent.

Potter, strangely enough, didn't bother to cover his eyes, opting instead to throw out a risky stunner at her. His gamble paid off, as Millie had to cut her assault short in order to block the unforeseen Spell. The sand didn't work?! Oh… His glasses!

Before Millie could even think to complain about Potter's unfair advantage, the Gryffindor sent forth his own gust of wind, and unlike Potter; Millie didn't have the glasses needed to avoid getting sand in her eyes, and as such, she was forced to rely on her Shield Charm.

"Protego Maxima!" Millie chanted, summoning a large white wall of Magic in front of herself.

From the audience, she could hear whistles and cheers being thrown her way, but she ignored the praise. I'll win, and then, I'll celebrate.

Potter hammered the shield with multiple stunners and Disarming Charms, leaving large cracks in the ethereal barrier before long. Millie despised being on the defensive this much, but she decided to endure a little more in order to tire Potter out some more.

"Finite Incantatem!" Potter finally cast the General-Counter Spell, but Millie was waiting for it.

She quickly undid her barrier, allowing the General-Counter Spell to hit her, while she began throwing out a barrage of Non-Verbal Stunners. The General-Counter Spell did nothing to her, whereas Potter was now forced to go on the defensive for a change. Begin closing some of this distance, or, you'll never manage to land a hit on him. He has too much time to react, right now, and with his reflexes, I doubt I could catch him off-guard from here.

Step-by-step, just as Ron had taught her; Millie began her advance, throwing out a stunner per step. She had become incredibly adept at Non-Verbal Stunning Charms, something that still surprised her to this day, and now, this very fact was surprising Potter as well. Her speed at throwing out well-aimed stunners was quickly overwhelming him, and Harry could do little but throw out the occasional stunner.

As she drew neared to him, he began to realize what her intentions were, and in response, he did the one thing that infuriated Millie the most… He started running again, ducking and throwing Disarming Charms over his shoulder as he ran around the sandpit in order to gain a better position. Damn you! How did he dodge everything, again?!

Millie didn't even bother to chase him, of course, letting him run so she could throw Spells at his back, but unfortunately for her; the slippery Gryffindor managed to put quite a lot of distance between them, and by the looks of it; he wasn't going to get tired any time soon. This is not working… We'll be here for days, at this rate.

Millie drew in a sharp breath, lowering her wand slightly and taking on a more relaxed stance. It was time to conserve her energy, but she could not allow Potter to do the same. I know exactly what I have to do… I have to trap him, there's no other way.

Potter narrowed his eyes on her, surprised by her sudden change in demeanour, but ready for anything. Corner him, and then, use the Shockwave Charm father sent you. He can't run if his feet can't touch the ground, right?

"Accumsan Glaciem!" Millie chanted, using a stronger variation of the Freezing Spell.

Her Blackthorn, Unicorn-Tail Hair wand began vibrating in her hands, which was the signal to aim her wand where she wanted the ice-beam to go. With a loud hiss, a brilliant jet of ice shot out of the tip of her wand, and Millie used her natural strength to direct it all around Potter. She didn't bother to aim for him, as he had put up a shield to block the unfamiliar Spell without delay. Hitting him was never the goal, anyway. Not yet, at least.

Once again ignoring the loud cheers and the astonished gasps, Millie instead focused on freezing the ground around Potter. Her wand was becoming increasingly hot in her hand, but as she watched the layer of ice grow wherever she aimed the jet of ice; Millie found the strength to keep the Spell going for a little longer.

Potter maintained his shield, of course, as she would definitely aim for him if he even thought of bringing it down, and because of this; Millie successfully trapped him. Nowhere left to go, Potter, unless you fancy a fall on that fresh coat of frost. The Gryffindor had finally realized her what she was playing at, but at this point, nothing could save him.

With Potter's mobility limited, Millie once again started her onslaught, adding Disarming Charms and Knockback Jinxes into her Chaining. Potter managed to dodge a handful of Spells before he was forced to move, and the moment he did so; his feet slipped, resulting in a rather hilarious accident.

Potter landed nose first, and Millie heard the crunch clear as day. Ow! Is he all right?! She hesitated, her eyes widening slightly as Potter looked up with a bloody nose and a cut lip. She had no business feeling guilty in the middle of a Duel, but she wasn't like the boys… She couldn't just turn off remorse at the drop of a hat.

This proved to be a mistake, however, as Potter used her brief hesitation to shoot up to his feet; waving his wand in a circle.

"Expecto Patronum!" Potter chanted, surprising Millie with his odd choice of Spell. Isn't that meant for Dementors? And I thought Potter couldn't cast it-

A silvery-mist poured out of the tip of Potter's wand, taking on the intimidating shape of a shining stag. Millie's jaw dropped at what she was seeing, and judging by the sudden silence; she wasn't alone in her awe of the spectral beast. When did he learn to cast it successfully…? He was still struggling with it not long ago, and Professor Lupin said that it'd take months for any of us to make any progress- The stag grunted loudly, shooting up onto its hindlegs in order show Millie just how small she was compared to it.

And then, it began charging; shattering the layer of ice under its hooves as it locked onto her. FUCK!

"Finite Incantatem!" Millie chanted, but the stag crashed right through the General-Counter Spell as if it were nothing. It didn't work?! What do I do?! "Protego Maxima!"

Just as the barrier came into view, the stag reached its target; smashing its powerful antlers through the Magical Wall, but not fully getting through. The impact against her shield sent Millie tumbling onto her back, but she quickly rolled back and began running for the other side of the arena. Run! Run until Potter loses his strength! It can't be easy powering a Spell like that!

The Gryffindors burst into laughter, and soon enough; Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had joined in. None of them were happy with Slytherin's success today, and watching the Chosen One school one of the Slytherins was no doubt a wonderful treat.

Millie ignored them again, mostly out of panic and fear this time. She could hear it coming after her, trying to impale her on its antlers, or, worse, run her over with its powerful legs and shatter every bone in her body.

"I can't stop it! Bulstrode, move!" Potter yelled from behind her, and just as she began moving out of the way, something powerful and sturdy slammed into her back.

"NO! Millie!" Pansy screamed from the Slytherin stands, she had never sounded so terrified before.

Pain shot throughout Millie's entire body, and she could only scream in agony as the stag sent her rolling through the dirt. Her wand clutched closely to her chest, Millie eventually came to a stop; her clothes slightly torn and filled with sand. She heard the ethereal stag run on, but she knew that it would come back to finish the job. The stands were in an uproar now, but Millie grit her teeth and shot up to her feet again; her heart beating in her ears. Where is it?! Where did it go?!

A cough tore its way out of her throat, followed by the taste of metal. Is that… blood? Fuck, swallow it before anyone sees… Her eyes were stinging already, while the pain in her back pulsated horribly. Not to mention the horrible feeling of drinking down her own blood…

"Her back is bleeding!" came Diggory's voice. "Professor Lupin, look!"

"Stop the bloody match, what are you two crackpots doing?!" came Theo's panicked voice. NO! I'm not finished yet! I can still win! No one is taking this away from me! I have to win! I have to! Or, I'll lose everything…

Before Professors Snape and Lupin could interfere, Millie forced herself to turn towards Potter, throwing a stunner straight at his dumbfounded face in order to prove that she could still fight.

Unfortunately, the quick little bastard dodged her Spell once again, but he was a lot slower than before. And, he was out of breath…

And where was the fucking stag that had nearly killed her?! He couldn't hold it, could he…? I was right…

Despite the pain she was in, Millie began smiling a little, mostly out of relief. Now, he's fucking done for!

"Stupefy!" Millie chanted as she began limping towards Potter.

He dodged once again, looking even more horrified at what he was seeing. Millie couldn't care less about his expression, though… She was truly pissed off, and Potter was definitely going to leave this arena in a stretcher; she was going to give him a bed right next to Malfoy.

She kept advancing, throwing out nothing but stunners, as they were simple enough to cast despite her wavering focus. Potter didn't fight back, he just kept dodging haphazardly, slipping on the ice but quickly stumbling back onto his feet. Almost there… Almost, Millie…

"Expelliarmus!" Potter suddenly chanted, but Millie simply let herself drop to one knee, allowing the Disarming Charm to pass over her head.

"Fluctus Inpulsa," Millie hissed, digging her wand into the Earth.

Another surge of power echoed from her wand, and a bright blue light shot along the ground until it reached Potter's feet, where it rapidly began to grow into a circle, glowing even brighter than before. There was a loud 'whooshing' sound, followed by Potter yelling in surprise as his body was sent into the air and held in place. I won… I did it, Ron…

"Descendo!" Millie chanted as loudly as she could, using the last of her strength to flick her wand in a whip-like manner.

Potter's body was yanked down towards the icy floor by the Descending Charm, effectively body-slamming him and cracking the layer of ice underneath him. The crowd winced loudly, with many calling for an end to the match. He still has his wand… He's stubborn, I'll give him that…

Potter struggled to sit back up, exhausted by the Patronus Charm and winded by Millie's combo. Stupefy! With one final stroke of her wand; Millie finally landed a direct hit on Potter. The Gryffindor was sent sliding across the ice, while his wand went flying out of his limp hand.

"Match!" Lupin called, running straight for Potter.

Millie just stood there, her ears still listening to the beating of her heart; pain clawing at her back. I really did it… I beat Harry Potter…

Relief flooded her, and soon, she finally tasted the feeling of achieving her goals once again. It was glorious, so much so that she began to feel lightheaded. Just as her footing failed her, a strong-arm wrapped itself around her shoulders; gently guiding her down into a sitting position.

"Professor…?" Millie looked towards her Head of House lethargically, only to see complete indifference staring back at her.

"You did well, Millicent," Professor Snape whispered, his expression telling a different story. He… used my name…?

"I won…" she muttered, smiling a little to herself and finally closing her eyes. I bested a legend… I'm not useless, or, fat, or, stupid… I can be just as successful as my friends…

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 13th March, 1994 (Madame Tessa's Massage Parlour – Late Evening)

"Oh, fuck…" Ron groaned as Nina dug into his shoulders.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" Nina asked, and Ron simply grunted. Hurting me? You clearly have no idea what pain is. This feels fucking brilliant!

"No, but you are making me fall in love with you," Ron grinned, thoroughly enjoying the massage.

It had been awkward at first, mostly for Ron, on account of his disfigured body, but Nina had worked with him before, and she was even more courteous now that she knew about his failing health. Though, she keeps asking me if she's hurting me, and that's starting to get annoying very quickly.

"Right there," Ron winced, feeling her press in-between his shoulder plates. "I've been feeling stiff back there, lately. Can you help with that?"

"Here?" she asked, pressing down with increasing pressure. "Oh, I can feel that knot… Merlin, you really stress a lot, don't you?" If you knew about the day I had, you'd stress alongside me.

"I just spent the whole day with the Minister for Magic, and you know what I realized?" Ron asked.

"You spent the day with the Minister?" Nina asked, sounding very curious. "And what did you learn?"

"I learned that she's a cunt, and that I'd love to punch her in the throat repeatedly," Ron replied, and Nina stopped working immediately. I should've smacked that bitch in the mouth today, I really fucking should've. They could throw me in Azkaban right after, I wouldn't even care.

The meeting at the Ministry had literally gone nowhere, thanks to Amelia fucking Bones herself. She had decided that the Ministry no longer needed the Old Families, and that they would be more efficient at their jobs if the Old Families steered cleared of Ministry business going forward.

Personally, Ron didn't hate the idea itself; he truly believed that the Old Families held far too much power, and that if the Ministry was an independent power, not reliant on the gold of said Families, then the average witch and wizard would prosper.

Unfortunately, Bones had decided to be blunt about her plan, downright rude, if Ron was being honest. She was adamantly against indebting her regime to Ron's allies, while they were being overly aggressive about offering the Ministry their gold. Aunt Muriel had even walked out early, laughing at the notion of a 'British Ministry surviving without the benevolence and blessing of the Old Blood'.

Ron had tried his best to play the middle-man, to try and find a compromise, but Bones was dead-set in her views. And here's the best part… She still wants us to rebuild Knockturn Alley for her, even though her cunt Ministry destroyed it! What the fuck?! She's asking for too much, no one in their right mind will go for her plan. Plus, we all know that the Ministry is fucked without our help, so there's no chance of my allies backing down whatsoever.

Ron drew in a deep breath, feeling frustration ruin his well-earned massage. How was he supposed to get these people to agree on anything? Most of Ron's allies had no intention of letting go of an iota of their privileges, while the Ministry desperately needed reform but was unable to do so due to Fudge's fuckups. A part of him did feel sorry for the new Minister, she was already fighting an uphill battle, and she also had the terrible curse of knowledge haunting her. I shouldn't talk about hitting her… Fuck, what a terrible day… I hope the others found success, at least, because I completely wasted my day.

"Are you all right?" Nina asked gently, tapping his shoulder.

"No… It was not a good day for me," Ron admitted. "Or, for the residents of Knockturn Alley. We spent hours talking with the Minister, and we literally settled on nothing… No plans, no fucking clue on what to do next…"

"You want to rebuild Knockturn Alley?" Nina asked. "From the ground up?"

"Well, those people can't keep living on the streets of Diagon Alley, right?" Ron asked, and Nina slowly began to smile again; her heavenly fingers returning to their good work. "I've heard that there's been more crime around the camps, lately… People stealing from each other, there was even a brawl that nearly escalated into a mass Duel. The Aurors are becoming more and more spread out by the day, no one wants to be an Auror after the Great War, which means that crime isn't going to go down until we get these people roofs over their heads, over their children's heads-"

"Ron, breathe," Nina all but whispered, and Ron realized that was rambling like a madman. "I'm mostly just glad to hear that someone is finally doing something for those poor souls… I still can't get over what the Ministry did down there, it just seems so… Well, it reminded me of the Great War, that's what I'm trying to say." It should, because that's exactly what's going on.

"You must've been really young when the Great War happened, right?" Ron asked, turning his head and studying her.

She looked to be in her early twenties, with raven-black hair and a very happy disposition. Her dark eyes and caramel complexion complimented each other beautifully, and her bright, pearly-white smile almost made Ron want to genuinely smile as well. He wouldn't, of course, but he could see many others opening up to this 'exotic' witch. I think that's the whole point, right? To make you feel right at home?

Ron decided that he liked this witch, not because of her beauty, but rather because she was kind to him and never made him feel insecure. She was professional, and when she spoke to him, he didn't feel pitied. Though, she was a little overwhelmed at first, given what she's read about me in the papers. I don't get why Madam Roberts doesn't like her; I think she's peppy.

"Staring is rude, you know?" Nina chuckled, not stopping her work.

"Sorry," Ron apologized, though he really wasn't. It is a lovely sight, and there's no harm in looking.

"It's all right, it happens very often," Nina shot him a wink.

"I have no doubt about that," Ron said, going back to enjoying his massage. "Tell me what you remember about the war, Nina. I'm a student of Magical History, and I like hearing different perspectives."

"All right, but you need to turn around for me, first," Nina said, and Ron quickly did as she asked.

She placed a fresh towel over the front of his boxers before moving down to his legs, letting her fingers get a grasp of what they were dealing with.

"Do you exercise often, Ron?" Nina asked offhandedly.

"Very often," Ron told the truth. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"No, just making sure," she replied. Right… "Your Quadriceps, these muscles right here; they're very taut. You need to stretch, Ron, or, you will end up tearing a muscle, and believe me, that kind of pain brings Aurors to tears. I've heard some real horror stories from my clients, so please be more careful." Oh… Damn, Madam Roberts wouldn't be happy to hear that.

"Got it, thanks," Ron decided to be more mindful. "The war?"

"Ah, right," Nina laughed. "The war… Well, I don't remember much, but I know that my parents moved a lot. They were both Muggle-Borns, you see?" Were? "I remember meeting a lot of children, going to different schools across the country till Hogwarts sent me a letter. My parents… They um… They sent me away, for my own good… The next time I saw them, I was attending their funeral…" Nina's parents; two more people I'll avenge, in good time.

"You don't have to go on," Ron said, regretting bringing up such a discussion. "I'm sorry for bringing this up, I can be a bit of a moron-"

"No, it's okay," Nina drew in a sharp breath, giving him a warm smile. "We all have our pasts, right? I've had a lot of time to come to terms with everything." No one should have to come to terms with something so horrible, Nina.

"I'm very sorry to hear about your parents, they were very brave to stay within Magical Britain," Ron said, and Nina's smile faltered.

"Thank you," she said, moving down to his calf. "This place was their home, and they didn't want to leave it behind. Sometimes, I wish they had, but I'm proud of them for staying. For not giving into those vile Death-Eaters."

"May I ask their names? If that's not too-" Ron started.

"Rajesh and Aida Anand," Nina replied, her voice becoming slightly strained. "My father was from India, and my mother from Italy. They both had family in their home countries, but they… They couldn't leave, I think. They were a proud pair; I remember that much. And since a majority of their respective families were Muggle, my parents didn't want to bring the war into their lives." Rajesh and Aida Anand. I will remember those names, and honour their deaths by sending their murderers straight to hell. I promise. "Ahem… I… Sorry, but I don't… I suppose I'm not completely over-"

"No, I understand," Ron said. "Thank you for telling me about them, Nina. They were good people, and I'm sorry that they're no longer here." We need more people like Rajesh and Aida in this world, people who aren't afraid to spit in the face of tyrants like the Dark Lord. How many lives has he destroyed? And why? So, he can live forever? What a cunt…

Nina was giving him an odd look, and when Ron finally met her gaze, a smile began to grow on her face. What? Did I say something right-?

"I'll give you my card, after this," Nina said, making Ron blink. What would I do with this card, exactly? "The next time you visit, make sure to ask for me, okay? It's hard to find well-mannered clients these days, and you're quickly becoming my favourite." That's because you don't really know me. Trust me, the novelty wears off very quickly when you realize who I really am… What We really are…

"Sure, I'd like that very much, thank you," Ron agreed, even though he had already decided to only ask after her. Don't want anyone else seeing my scars, and I definitely don't want a bloke feeling me up either.

"Now, how about you tell me more about the Minister?" Nina smirked. "Still want to punch her in the throat?"

"Maybe," Ron grinned, making her laugh. No, I was just angry at how poorly the negotiations went. I can understand where she's coming from, but the Ministry has no real power left after Fudge's mistakes. He gave away so much money to Albania, who have outright ignored our call for aid rather than return the favour. Not to mention the damage the Dark Lord has inflicted on top… Fuck, I'm tensing up again-

"Relax, please," Nina said, rubbing his calf muscle in a way that made Ron want to purr like a cat.

"Sorry, just the thought of the Ministry stresses me to no end," Ron admitted, giving her a cheeky smirk at the end. "Please, help me forget my woes, will you?" Before I die from sheer fucking stress.

"I'll go let the front know that we'll be another hour," Nina said, giving his toe a small wiggle. Ha, what was that? It tickled. "Is that all right with you, Ron?" I have nowhere else to be, so, by all means, go right ahead.

"That'd be perfect, Nina," Ron gave a nod. "I'll be right here."

---

One Amazing Hour Later

"You are a fucking blessing from Fate, Nina," Ron said, closing the top button of his two-piece.

"Thank you," Nina giggled, shaking her head. "Come back next week as well, all right? Before you leave for the States, at the very least. We'll make sure that you're nice and ready to bring home another victory for Britain." Count on it.

"When are you free?" Ron asked.

"I'll book you in for… Monday, the twenty second?" Nina asked. So, the first day of the Easter Break. I can do that. "Same time as today?"

"Please do," Ron said, clicking his Rolex into place. Right, let's go back to Hogwarts. "Shall we?"

Nina led the way out of the incensed room, guiding Ron to the front of the parlour, where Artyom and London were waiting for him. Should I give Nina a tip? Is that allowed? I want to show my appreciation, but I'm not really good at that… Yeah, money, it is. People always need money, especially nowadays.

"Take care of yourself, Ron, and remember to stretch, please," Nina said, stopping near the front desk.

"Thank you again for taking care of me," Ron said, pulling out his Gringotts Pouch.

"Oh, there's no need-" Nina started, catching on very quickly. Definitely a Ravenclaw.

"People usually don't like seeing my… scars…" Ron said, stopping her short. "You're different, and that… means a lot…" Ugh, there goes my charm. She probably thinks I'm some whiney little bitch, now. "Here, please accept this. You're the only one who's given me a decent conversation in days. I don't know how else to thank you…"

"But twenty Galleons is too much, I couldn't possibly accept this much money for one massage," Nina said. This is nothing to me… It's not like I'll need it down the line, there is no 'down the line' for me.

"Enjoy a fancy dinner at The Pond with it, or, put it into your vault for a rainy day," Ron shrugged, smiling. "You deserve it."

Nina just stared at him for a bit, but then, she accepted his money with a grateful smile. There, that wasn't so hard, was it?

"Thank you, Ron, this is very kind of you," Nina said, staring at the coins in her hands. "Never had such a big tip before… This is over a month's pay…" She makes that little here? I suppose it's not exactly a wealthy establishment, and most of the staff are all very young. "I'll see you soon?"

"Monday, the twenty second," Ron smiled, leaving with a polite nod. "See you soon, Nina."

"Bye," she waved with a bright smile.

"Sorry for the wait, how was yours?" Ron asked London, waving goodbye to Nina as she left.

"Oh, brilliant, boss," London stood up, stretching her back. "Thanks again for paying-"

"Don't worry about it," Ron waved a dismissive hand, looking to Artyom. "You should've accepted, mate. They do wonders in here."

"Not interested," Artyom said, standing up as well. "Where to next?"

Ron and London exchanged look, both of them smiling knowingly. Classic Artyom, always working and never taking a second off. Fucking hell, if he's not careful, he might become my role model! That dedication he has is something else entirely!

"I think I know why Artyom didn't want to risk taking his clothes off… He was just scared of whipping out his massive horse-cock and Quaffle-sized balls," Ron told London, who broke into laughter immediately. I like her, she gets my humour! "Doesn't want to terrify the locals, how considerate."

Artyom drew in a sharp breath, looking ready to smack Ron for the dozenth time today.

"Where. To. Next?" Artyom asked, somehow controlling himself.

"Easy, Artyom," Ron chuckled, enjoying how angry he made the larger wizard. "I'm only joking around-"

"You are joke," Artyom stated, turning and heading for the door. Oh, that was a good one! I like that!

"Oho, I reckon I upset him," Ron told London, who just continued laughing as guided Ron towards the exit.

"Stop pushing him, boss, he'll take it out on us, tonight," London finally started recollecting herself. "C'mon, let's get you out of here, eh?"

"Are you hungry?" Ron asked her. "Want to have dinner with me at The Pond?"

"You're a little too young for me, I'm afraid," London joked, making Ron grin.

"You reckon the statue will accept?" Ron asked.

"I wouldn't count on it," London replied, as Artyom led the way outside.

"In all seriousness, though," Ron started, looking around the darkening street. "I'm a bit peckish, and The Pond has some amazing dishes on their menu. C'mon, my treat."

"I love working for him," London told Artyom, who shot her a rather scathing look. "Is this why you've been keeping him to yourself, captain? Enjoying free dinners behind our-"

"Enough, soldier!" Artyom turned around, not a hint of mirth on his face as he shoved his finger into her face. "You are on duty!" Oi, relax… We're just having a laugh, you grim prick.

"Sorry, Sir," London stood up straighter, while Ron rolled his eyes.

"Mate, we were only having a laugh," Ron said, he didn't like how aggressive Artyom was being to London for no reason.

London looked between the two, going eerily silent in order to stay out of this particular fight. Artyom's eyes remained fixed on London for a bit, but eventually, he turned his attention to Ron. Uh-oh, he's pissed, for sure. What crawled into his arse?

"You distract her, and you will be one who pays," Artyom told him. "There are four men watching us, and she was too busy making jokes to notice them." What?! Where?!

London and Ron looked around immediately, spotting the four shifty-eyed wizards loitering in front of Solomon's Bakery, which sat right next to the massage parlour. Oh, he has no clue that Solomon is working with me…

"Fuck, boss, move to my left, now," London became deadly serious within a heartbeat. "Captain, you lead."

"We will speak later," Artyom promised her, turning back around in order to lead them away from potential danger. "If they make move on him, take client to location four, I will follow after I've dealt with-"

"Easy there, I know them," Ron said, recognizing the one in the middle. What was his name? Ah, Damien Copper… I promised him I'd remember his name. They clearly want my attention, so let's give it to them. "Artyom, you take the two on the left. London, the skinny cunt on the right is yours. Leave the smug-looking prick for me."

"Do as he says," Artyom said, though he didn't sound like he was on-board with this plan.

Together, the trio made their way over to the four wizards, who met them halfway.

"Mr. Weasley," Copper greeted, giving a polite nod. "Pleasure to see you again."

"Likewise, Mr. Copper," Ron lied. "I assume that Solomon wants to speak to me, again?"

"He did not wish to disturb your massage," Copper said, false-politeness all but dripping from his mouth. "Now, please, follow me."

"Tell him to come out here," Ron said. "It's a nice night, and I have no intention of dying in some dirty bakery."

Copper laughed, while his men gave Ron dangerous looks. Dinner? It seems that The Pond will not have Our patronage tonight!

Artyom took a step forward, stopping Copper's laughter short.

"What?" Copper eyeballed Artyom. "You three in a hurry to die, is that it?" Pardon? What did you just fucking say to me?

"We can oblige you, if you like," the skinny shit on the right said, pulling out a rolling pin from his shabby robes. Wait… What the fuck?! Is that a fucking rolling pin?!

"What is that?" Ron asked, frowning down at the rolling pin. I've never been this insulted in my fucking life, mate… Not even worthy of your wand, am I?

"What do yeh reckon, poof?" the skinny wizard sneered. "It's a fuckin' weapon."

"No, it's not, that's a fucking rolling pin," Ron said, a mixture of annoyance and confusion playing on his face. "Who are you? Madam Sugarplum's long-lost bastard? What're you going to do with that? Bake me a cake? Sing me a song and watch me blow out my fucking candles?" Cutis Terra!

Ron suddenly lunged forward, punching the skinny prick so hard that his teeth shot out of his head and onto Copper's face. Artyom wasted no time in smashing his own large fist into Copper's stunned face, while London swiftly stunned the other two without uttering a single word. Fucking common criminals, thinking they can threaten me? Pathetic.

"Artyom, wait," Ron stopped the Russian from kicking Copper's skull in.

As London waved her wand and hid them from the scant few eyes on the street, Ron stepped up to Copper's flayed out body and kneeled down; grabbing the man by his jaw. Don't struggle, or, I'll crush your face like a grape, you cunt!

"Your friend will eventually wake up," Ron started, nearly crushing the man's jaw with his powerful grip. "He won't have any teeth left, of course, but he'll be a wiser man for it. And the last thing he'll remember is that you started this fight, won't he?"

Copper's eyes widened slightly, and he stopped struggling almost immediately. Ron's eyes flashed red for a split-second, but it was enough time for Copper to go as still and pale as a corpse.

"Now, go in there and tell your boss to come out to the back alley, alone, before I decide to bring fifty mercenaries down here to massacre each and every one of you, yeah?" Ron whispered dangerously.

Copper gave a shaky nod, and Ron finally let go of his face.

"Go on, I'll watch over your friends," Ron said as Copper stumbled towards the door, and once he was gone, Ron looked towards the moron with the rolling pin.

He was twitching horribly, as if he were having a seizure. What's wrong with his eyes? They're fluttering.

"Never mind, I killed him, I think," Ron pulled a face, looking back to Artyom. Whoops.

"One less criminal," Artyom said coldly, and Ron agreed wholeheartedly. Exactly, no one will care. Just one less piece of shit in the world-

"He'll live," London said, walking over in order to heal him. "Can't leave a mess like this behind, boss… I had no idea about your-" she stopped herself.

"My what?" Ron asked, leaning down to catch her eyes. Temperament? Or, my ability to kill a grown man with just one swing? Terrifying, isn't it?

"Nothing, Sir," London kept her eyes fixed on her work, knowing better than to question her employers. Good lass.

---

Ten Minutes Later

"I heard you struck my men," came Solomon's grunt-like voice, and Ron turned to face the hulking half-troll. "May I ask why you're knocking people's teeth out? You don't look like a dentist to me?" Dentist? Like Hermione's parents? So, Solomon has decent knowledge of the Muggle World, I take it. Makes sense, being a smuggler and all.

"He threatened client-" Artyom started.

"Wasn't talkin' to you, mate," Solomon said, not bothering to even look at Artyom. "The grown-ups need to talk, eh? Why don't you fuck off? Go on, fuck off."

Artyom and London looked to Ron, and he gave them a subtle nod.

"I'll be watching," Artyom warned.

"Yeah, yeah, fuck off," Solomon couldn't have cared less. "And take the tart with you, hm?" Yeesh, do I need to find a bar of soap to wash that mouth out?

Artyom and London said nothing, quietly walking away, but remaining close enough to reach Ron if anything went wrong.

"What do you want from me, Solomon?" Ron asked.

"Nothin'," Solomon replied. "The better question is: What do you need from me?"

"I need you to stop wasting my fucking time," Ron said impatiently. "Get on with it, I don't have the tolerance for banter, tonight. I will kill all of you, do you understand?"

Solomon studied Ron's face with his one good eye, his lips thinning slightly as he realized that Ron was not bluffing in the slightest. Should I show him what he's dealing with? Ron's eyes suddenly became crimson and toad-like, and Solomon immediately took a step back; his eye widening. Ron immediately undid the effect, shooting a look back to make sure that Artyom and London hadn't noticed.

"Fuckin' hell, where did she find you, huh?" Solomon asked slowly, sounding a lot more on the defensive.

"I found her, just as I found you," Ron whispered coldly. "If you don't believe me, go and ask her yourself about what I really am. She'll cut her tongue out before she talks." I know just how terrified she is of me, and for good fucking reason.

"Oh… Oh, fuck…" Solomon let out a childish chuckle, but quickly regaining his composure. What the…? Is he insane?

"What. Do. You. Want?" Ron stepped forward, and Solomon immediately took another step back.

"Come, come, mate," Solomon smiled, patting Ron's arm. "I wasn't out to upset you, just making sure we're on the same page, that's all. It's a game-"

"I don't play games," Ron cut in. "Start talking, or, I walk." And then, I'll come right back and fuck you up in ways you can't even fathom.

Solomon drew in a long breath, shaking his head and letting out another chuckle.

"The shite you see in this line of work… Fuckin' demons walkin' our fine streets, and no one even notices," Solomon grunted, speaking more to himself than Ron. "Now, as for what I want from you, isn't it obvious? I want us to get rich, together, that is."

"Rich?" Ron repeated. "You want to strike a business deal with me?"

"You don't want to keep paying for that big cunt over there?" Solomon asked. Fair enough. "You're clearly someone that I need to be friends with, I can already see it."

"Is that so?" Ron asked, his lips twitching upwards.

"I see thing, mate, that's what I do," Solomon replied. Right… He's a strange one, I'll give him that. He's already recovered from seeing my eyes, too… Should I have used my real voice? No… That's far too risky.

"What's this deal you have in mind?" Ron asked, mostly out of curiosity.

"I heard, from a little bird, that you had an important meeting today," Solomon started, and Ron waited for him to elaborate. "Well, I want in."

"You want in?" Ron asked. "Into what? I thought I already agreed to let you conduct your business for a cut of your profits, you want to join my alliance, as well?"

"No, fuck that," Solomon scoffed. "I've no business dining with the likes of your… puppets. I want into Knockturn Alley, the Fanged Grotto, more specifically."

"The Fanged Grotto?" Ron asked.

"It's a Vampire clubhouse, or, it was before Dumbledore fucking levelled the district," Solomon grunted. "You see, these Vampires were smart… They built tunnels under their little hideout, a good place to toss dead whores, you understand?" All too well… I'm so fucking glad Priscilla accepted my help. "Now, the building itself is beyond fucked, it's just not there no more, but the tunnels… Well, the Blood-Suckers dug deep, and I know they used these very tunnels to escape the Phoenix of Britain." Another moniker? The old man must like that one, I bet.

"You'll use them to smuggle your goods, I assume," Ron figured.

"And you and Emilia get fifteen percent each," Solomon began. Fifteen? I feel like I deserve more than that, especially because your balls are in my hands, mate. I'm not an idiot, so don't fucking underestimate me like all the rest. Or, do it, because either way, I'll still get what I want from you.

"I want twenty," Ron said, simply because he thought fifteen was insulting. "Emilia gets twenty as well, and you keep sixty."

"Yeah, that's not-" Solomon started.

"You want my help into Knockturn Alley, you pay twenty," Ron said bluntly.

Solomon stared at Ron once again, clicking his tongue and snapping his fingers repeatedly. He was thinking, clearly, and Ron decided to stare right back, not intimidated in the least by Solomon.

"Salty cunt…" Solomon suddenly grunted. "Twenty, then. Emilia gets fifteen-"

"She will get what I get," Ron shut him down. You fuck her over, and I won't care about what you can do for the Order. I made her a promise.

"Fuck me…" Solomon groaned. "This is why you don't make deals with the fuckin' devil… Very well, twenty to you two, and I get sixty."

"And we get our eyes on the streets," Ron reminded Solomon.

"That too," Solomon pulled out a notepad, jotting the information down with a golden fountain-pen. "Oh, and how long will this take? Getting' business up and runnin' again, that is?" If the new Minister has her way, never.

"We're working on it," Ron said. "Negotiations are… difficult… given all that's happened."

"Ah, that reminds me," Solomon clapped his hands, surprising Ron. "You want Fudge?" Excuse me?

"What did you say?" Ron asked, his brow furrowed.

"You. Want. Fudge?" Solomon spoke very slowly, looking at Ron like he was an idiot.

"You have him, do you?" Ron couldn't help but snort. "Where, in that bakery of yours?"

"Course not," Solomon grunted, crossing his arms. Those are some massive forearms, mate. You wank that often, do you? "But he is meeting me, tonight."

"He is?" Ron asked, suddenly becoming very interested. "Why? Isn't his trial coming up?" From what little I've heard; the Minister and Crouch are ready to bury him for all he's done.

"That's the reason behind our little get together," Solomon explained. "The rabbit knows that the foxes are comin', and he's runnin' scared. I sent some of my faithful down to his grand house, offerin' him safe passage to Egypt." Egypt? Why there? Also, he's running away? The fucking cunt… The Aurors should've arrested him when they had the chance, if he fucks off to Egypt, we'll lose him!

"You're really meeting him tonight?" Ron asked, and Solomon gave a nod.

A terrifying smile graced Ron's face, and his eyes began glowing red; the Gods had finally given him a win.

"Take me to him," Ron hissed. "I want to… have a word… with him. Before he departs."

---

Saturday 13th March, 1994 (King Solomon's Bakery – Near Midnight)

Fudge stepped into the back of the bakery with a nervous look on his face, eyeing the empty inside with wariness. Ron and Artyom stood in the far right corner, hidden by Ron's Disillusionment Charm.

The mere sight of the coward made Ron's blood boil, but for now; he kept his rage under control. Oh, the things I'm about to do to you… I'll take your hands, your feet, your fucking traitorous tongue! Ron turned and cracked his neck, unable to control the urge. SOON!

"Hello?!" Fudge called, taking more slow steps, until finally, he stood in the centre of the large room.

"Ah, Minister," Solomon came out of his office, shocking Fudge with his visage.

"Who are you? Are you… Mr. Solomon?" Fudge asked weakly. "I… I uh… You're not… human…" Let me guess, that bothers you, doesn't it?

Ron drew in a sharp breath, his hands shaking in anticipation. I'm going to gut you like fish, and then, I'll piss on your corpse!

"God bless him, his eyes fuckin' work," Solomon said dryly, stopping only when he was towering over Fudge. "I hear you're in a spot of bother, mate."

"Um… Yes," Fudge muttered, looking around again. "I… My own people are trying to send me to Azkaban, after all I've done for them…" Ron nearly charged the bastard at that, but Artyom was quick to stop him. You're dead, Fudge! Dead! "Where are your people? I thought you had… acquaintances."

"I cleared out the shop, no need for any of my men to see you, eh?" Solomon lied expertly. "We're all fuckin' sodomites here, mate; you don't want some cunt following you home to shag you and your wife, do you?" What the fuck…?

"Oh, of course," Fudge let out a nervous laugh. "That… That makes so much more sense, now. I was getting worried there, for a moment." You're so fucking stupid, cunt.

"No, no need to worry," Solomon grunted, his lips quirking upwards for a moment. "Now, I assume you want a ticket for your wife too? That'll cost extra."

"No, not her…" Fudge said, sounding almost embarrassed. "Um… My secretary… She's my plus one…" Un-fucking-believable!

Ron began trembling with rage, his vision turning red. This man had no fucking honour, did he? He… He was filth… Utter fucking filth! He had destroyed so many lives, he had thrown the honour of his country in the shit and piss, and now, he was running away with his fucking secretary?! Not even his own wife?!

"Give me your knife," Ron hissed, ripping it out of Artyom's belt before charging at Fudge. "FUDGE!" Cutis Terra!

Even Solomon jumped in surprise, while the former Minister let out a panicked howl as he turned on his heel. Die, you fucking cunt!

"Ronald Weasley-!" Fudge's eyes popped out of his head, but before he could even finish, Ron dug the blade into his gut and grabbed him by the throat.

The scream that tore out of Fudge's throat was music to Ron's ears, and he fully gave into his rage once again; viciously stabbing Fudge in his stomach and sides. There was a bloody scuffle between the two, with Fudge eventually falling on his back and Ron holding him down by his throat.

"You think you can just run away?!" Ron bellowed, his eyes glowing bright red. "After all you've done?!"

Fudge kept screaming and sobbing, trying to push Ron off of him as the young man tore at his flesh like a wild beast. Stop fucking kicking me! Just fucking die!

"NO ONE GETS AWAY FROM ME!" Ron shouted, yanking the screaming man up by his thinning hair and crushing his left kneecap with one strong kick. "You fucking cunt! NO ONE!"

"Please! Please!" Fudge failed to crawl away, there was so much fucking blood that even Ron was slipping. "Help me! SOMEONE! Please… Help me!"

"No one is coming for you!" Ron dug the knife into Fudge's thigh, grinning as blood splattered onto his face. First you, then all of them! We will END all of you!

"Gods…" Fudge coughed, thick red blood oozing out of his mouth.

He tried to shove his right hand in Ron's face again, but this time; Ron grabbed his wrist, and with a deadly swing of the knife, he sliced off Fudge's fingers as well. The man tried to continue screaming as a way to cope with the agony, but his voice no longer came out. There was too much blood clogging his throat, and even though he was constantly coughing it out; there was always more to come.

"All I wanted was to help the people you hurt!" Ron barked as he threw himself onto the man, stabbing Fudge through his cheek bone and dislodging his eyeball completely. "You fucking bastard! I wanted to do good! I wanted to help other people!"

With each word, Ron continued stabbing at the man's face, no longer caring that he was dead.

"But you tried to fuck me like one of your cheap whores! Tried to kill me! But I will not be fucked, you fuck! You fucking haemorrhoid-eating cunt! YOU CUNT!"

"Stop!" Artyom suddenly grabbed Ron's arm, but when Ron turned his face towards the Russian; the man went as pale as a ghost in the presence of a bloodied, red-eyed Ronald Weasley.

"Back off, or, you're next!" Ron hissed, causing the walls around them to crack due to his overwhelming Magic.

Artyom all but threw himself back, his wand aimed at Ron's face. Oh, you want to dance?! C'mon, then!

"Gods…" Artyom managed, his wand arm shaking.

"Put that away before he fuckin' kills you as well, mate," Solomon suggested, walking over in a hurry and lowering Artyom's wand arm. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, I've shit meself…"

"Get out!" Ron barked at them, turning back to face Fudge's mangled corpse. "And you! Fuck you! I'll be seeing you in hell soon enough! This isn't over!"

Ron then shot up to his feet, and without a second thought; he smashed his foot through Fudge's rib-cage, not giving a single fuck about his fine shoes. The crunch would've made the weak-willed throw up, but to Ron, that was the sound of fucking victory!

"I always win!" Ron yelled at the corpse. "ALWAYS-!"

"Enough, Champion," came a very familiar voice, and within a heartbeat; Ron froze. "Well done, however. Well done." No… No fucking way…

The smooth, yet powerful voice, had come from behind him, and Ron turned around slowly without even thinking. He didn't even realize that he was already shaking for a different reason than mind-consuming rage.

Once he finally managed to turn, what he saw nearly stopped his heart from beating…

There, right in front of him, stood the Golden Being that had started the Cycles: Fate. Oh… fuck… It's her… Ron took a shaky step back, his eyes widened and his throat closing up.

She wasn't glowing as she had in his vision, but her long golden hair was still levitating behind her, while her golden eyes peered right into Ron's very soul.

She was so beautiful, and yet, more terrifying than any being Ron had ever encountered, including the Entity.

Ron's mouth dropped open as she took a step forward; his rage entirely forgotten by a new feeling; crippling fear. Ever so slowly, Ron turned his head a little to the left in order to look at Artyom and Solomon, both of whom were frozen in time. Sweet fucking Merlin… Did she freeze everything on this planet?!

She made no sound as she approached him, and Ron finally realized that she was well over seven feet tall. Or, maybe, he was just shrinking, and hadn't realized it. Either way, the trembling got worse and worse, until suddenly; Fate reached across and placed her soft palm on his blood-covered cheek.

Warmth flooded him, and Ron's body stopped shaking on its own accord.

"My Champion," Fate whispered softly, her thumb caressing his cheek as he stared up at her expressionless face. Her skin is… sparkly… I never noticed… "Well done; you have proven yourself as my most useful, and my most ruthless, instrument in this particular Universe. You, Ronald Bilius Weasley, is who I have been waiting for."

"W-w-waiting… for…?" Ron managed, trying to meet her gaze. "Instrument?"

"You will help end the Lord of Serpents," Fate said, her voice utterly devoid of tone. "You will finish what your weaker-selves could not."

Fate then removed her hand, turning around gracefully and walking away from him.

"Wait! Don't go!" Ron called after, and she stopped moving.

"Follow me, Champion," Fate commanded, not looking back. "I would test you further."

"What… What does that mean?" Ron asked, finally finding his voice. "I… You're really here, aren't you?" Why? Why now? "I… I have so much… to ask you-"

"Come, we will speak away from this place," Fate said, shooting Fudge's corpse a glance. "I have work for you."

---

Author's Note: How salty would you lot be if I abandoned the story on this chapter?! (Red Knight feels)

Anywho, that's that, and I hope you enjoyed it. Sorry for no Rank A's, but I wanted a far more ruthless and vicous Ron for those, and shifting the Fate scene from Sunday night to Saturday night helps segway into that better. Next chapter will finish the Duels, start the Easter Break, and get us right into the Ilvermorny Arc, which is gonna be litty lit! I've been waiting so fucking long!