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.

138. Chapter 138 - The Climb

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Chapter 138 is here! Writer's block kicked my ass, but in the end, I managed to tickle it to death!

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 138 – The Climb

Ronald Weasley's POV

Saturday 20th March, 1994 (Travers Manor – Late)

"Emilia?" Ron knocked on the door, entering without an answer. "It's me!"

Emilia was sitting up in her bed, her empty eyes studying him from across the dimly lit room. She was wearing black bathrobes, and her neatly combed hair was still wet, which led Ron to figure that she had recently taken a dip in her Healing Springs. Maybe I should take Tracey to one after she wakes up? It'll help her recovery, I'm sure.

"… Hello, Ron…" Emilia greeted weakly, her eyes drooping. She still wants to sleep? Well, not on my watch!

"I can't believe you broke free of the Crucible's influence so quickly!" Ron didn't bother to hide his awe as he ran over to her bed, startling her to the point of becoming alert. "Can I sit down?! I've got so many questions, and I have loads to tell you as well!"

Emilia continued to stare up at him, his boisterous voice ringing in her ears.

"Sit, and please, keep your voice down," Emilia shifted away eventually, giving him space to plant himself by her side. "My servants are asleep, and I would rather they not find out about what happened to me."

"Why?" Ron blinked. Is it pride? Tell me it's not pride-…

"I need to find out if any of them played a part in Abadie's scheme," Emilia growled to herself, sitting up straighter. Of course. "

"Just don't torture anyone under your command, it'll only serve to make everyone hate you," Ron advised, remembering Carey's screams. Don't become a proper bastard like me, and you'll be fine. "So, how are you? Any side-effects? Or, are you on the up, now?"

"I'm… awake…" Emilia muttered, looking back to her lap. "That's all I can really say, I'm afraid."

Ron followed her gaze, finally noticing that she was holding a half-burnt picture of a young witch in her hands. The posing teenage witch had long, lush, raven hair, and a saucy smile to top off her sharp features. Even Ron couldn't deny that he found her attractive, especially when she winked at the camera before going back to her ensnaring smile. Is that her mother? Teresa Travers? No, she's far too young, but then again, it looks like an old photo. Hold on, she's wearing a Hogwarts Uniform! A fellow Slytherin!

"What happened to that picture?" Ron asked instead, eyeing the burnt edges. They almost touch the witch, as if pulled back from the fire at the very last moment.

"I cast it into the fire, when I turned fourteen…" Emilia replied distantly, as if recalling the dreaded memory. "I don't have many regrets, but this is one of them."

"Well, you managed to save it," Ron said, pointing to the burnt edges. "Must've been important-"

"She's my mother, Ron, before her own 'Family' destroyed her," she interjected, making Ron stop. Destroyed her? "This is the only photo I have of her, as my Great Aunt purged all records of her after I was sent away. She wasn't born a Travers, you see, rather she married into our accursed Bloodline… And that was reason enough for them to murder her. Despite everything she sacrificed for them after the Great War, her own joy, reputation, and even her freedom, they only ever cared about the gold they would've received if she and I weren't in the way."

Ron sat perfectly still, watching Emilia's blank expression with a hint of empathy. He found it extremely difficult to care for a woman who had died long before he could've met her, however, witnessing that woman's daughter, a hardened Ronin, continue to struggle with losing her mother still struck close to home. If mum, or, Merlin forbid, Pandora, ever got hurt, I don't know what I'd do. All I know is that I'd lose it… Even more so than before.

Ron had grown to care for Emilia, he found, though he was certain that she didn't share his habit of becoming attached to those who showed him an ounce of decency. You know what? Right now, I'm just happy that she's awake, and I'm not going to ruin that for myself, or, for her.

"Tell me more," Ron shifted closer, giving her an understanding look. "I know we can't change the past, but remembering it can be important too." Do I even believe that? Or, do I just want her to think of a happy memory?

"You don't strike me as the sort to reminisce," Emilia said, finally turning her hollow gaze towards him. I used to… But now, it just hurts to think about where my life could've gone if it weren't for my mission. Maybe, I'd still be with Daph? And Tracey would okay, and I wouldn't be so sickly. I suppose it doesn't matter, though… We play with the cards we're dealt, not the ones we wish we had.

"Don't have much good to remember," Ron shrugged. "And even if I did, I can only ever recall the worst of what I've been through… Is it the same for you?"

"Yes…"

"Well, that's a shame, then," Ron didn't know what else to say, so he went back to the photo. "Why did you try to burn it? If it's the only one you have?"

"Because I couldn't stand this… this carefree, beautiful girl… I couldn't imagine her being the mother I remember… I felt so cheated… Why couldn't I have parents who cared only for me? It didn't even have to be the both of them, just one of them would've…" she grit out, her fingers crumpling the bottom of the photo as her eyes welled up. "… Just one…"

Ron said nothing, but after some thinking, he decided to reach out and place his gloved hand on one of her forearms. "Go on, Emilia, I'm listening."

"I threw it into an open fire, only to scream and shove my hands in after it when I realized my mistake…" Fuck! Ow! She shoved her hands into an open fire to save a picture of her mother? "Even my sensei refused to heal me; he was intent on casting me out of the Dojo while my hands were still blistered and cracked from the flames-"

"Why?" Ron was rather surprised; she usually spoke fondly of her 'sensei'.

"Because a Ronin without hands might as well be a spirit, not living but not dead either," Emilia replied, as if quoting someone. "However, before I could be banished, the Daimyo of the Dragon House, one of the four Masters of the Dojo, respected by even my sensei, intervened on my behalf… He put a blanket around my shoulders, and he led me back inside without uttering a single word… None would dare challenge the Dragon himself, and he chose me."

Emilia then drew in a sharp breath before continuing, as if steadying herself.

"The next day, once I had been healed, my sensei began teaching me methods to annihilate my enemies, rather than bring them to 'justice', where they would go unpunished by those who could never hope to understand… And he kept teaching me, until I understood how to break my foes in both spirit and body, just as the Dragon had commanded him to do so." What?! This great Master decided to teach a scared child the art of murder? Why? What does he get out of it? I must admit, I don't understand these references, but if there's a wizard out there known only as 'The Dragon', then I really want to meet with him. I have an offer to make that I know he won't refuse.

"Are you telling me that they taught you things they wouldn't teach the others?" Ron asked slowly, and she gave a weak nod. "They wanted you to kill your Great Aunt?"

"Yes, but more than that, we Ronin serve justice wherever we are, and I think they understood that I only cared for one form of justice," Emilia said. "They saved me from myself. They taught me to keep fighting, even when the whole world denies you. If it weren't for them, I would have destroyed myself long ago…" Like I nearly did? "I know I shouldn't pry into your affairs, especially yours… But many a time, I feel as though I don't know you at all. Did… Did you ever have a mentor? Someone who… understands… you…?" Why does she sound so frightened over asking me a question? Oh, I know, I'm me… Degenerate number one.

"I suppose… I did have a mentor…" Ron replied, flashes of crimson eyes and dagger-sharp teeth flashing in his mind. "Still do, in a way." It's still there, waiting as always. Waiting for me to make a mistake, to let my guard down. Well, I won't! You'll never get me-!

"What were they like?" Emilia blinked, visibly surprised. "Are they… still alive?" Is the Entity alive? No, I don't think even the Elders see the Entity as 'living'. It's something else entirely, and not even they fully understand what the fuck it is.

"Let's just say that my mentor was the first, and it'll be the last once Creation itself comes to an end," Ron replied, terrifyingly honest for a change. "That's right… I think you understand what I'm saying, don't you? I think, deep down, you already know of the powers that are capable of even bringing the dead back to life." The Gods are here, Emilia, and they couldn't care less about any of us.

The picture slipped out of her hands, just as her mouth slowly parted, but no sound managed to break free from her. Yeah, she probably doesn't believe me, but just look at her… What would happen to her if I showed her the truth? The fucking indifference of it all… I think it would break her, to know that, at the end of the day, she's not even the only Emilia out there. She's just one of an infinite number…

Ron shuddered, why did his brain have a tendency to frighten itself?

"Trust me…" Ron started, picking up the picture and placing it safely in her hands. "You don't want the answers you think you do, and I probably shouldn't be saying this to you right now, given that I actually know very little about you, but… I just want you to know that…" Shit, how do I say this and not sound like a bitch? It's impossible!

"Know what?" she finally asked, studying him.

"You're not alone, anymore…" Ron managed to not cringe, but his voice was barely audible. "Look, I don't know if this'll mean anything to you, but I care about you… You were alone growing up, but you're not alone, now. That's all. I know I hide things, and I know you have questions that will need to be answered eventually, but for now; I just want you to know that I've got your back. As long as you'll have me, of course."

Emilia swallowed thickly, nodding lightly to herself as she lowered her gaze back to her mother's photograph. Awkward… Nice one, Ron, enjoy the bed you made.

"Godrey's told me everything," Emilia revealed after a few silent moments, looking back to him with questioning eyes. "He told me of what you did for me, of how you refused to abandon either of us…"

"Did he, now?" Ron felt his temper flare. I specifically asked him not to, and he went ahead and did it anyway. What a prick.

"Do no lay blame with him, I commanded him to reveal the truth to me," Emilia told him, her tired expression softening, but not enough to make her look weak. "You should've thought of yourself, Ron, I was entirely defenceless-"

"Yes, you were," Ron stopped her, giving her a meaningful look. "Don't ask me to abandon my friends, Emilia, it's the only sin I haven't committed yet… I chose to stay because I saw no other options, simple as that. And if you're wondering, you don't owe me anything-"

"You saved my life, Ron, nearly at the cost of your own," Emilia said, clearing her throat, but unable to hide her vulnerability. "I… I can't just forget that… No wizard has ever put himself in harm's way for only my benefit… I don't even know how to start repaying you-"

"Start by forgetting about it," Ron shrugged, giving her an easy-going smile. "Emilia, it's fine, I don't want anything. I'm just really fucking happy that you're still here. That's all I really wanted, anyway."

Emilia continued to stare at him for a few more seconds, and then; she smiled, just enough to make him feel more at ease. "… Thank you, my friend…"

"Happy to oblige, my friend," Ron smiled back, satisfied to see her smile widen by just a fraction. "Do you want to go for a walk? I know it's a bit late, but I've got a few things to tell you. Important things. And it'll be better if Artyom can join us, he's right outside-"

"Say no more," Emilia placed the photo beneath her pillow, an act that made Ron smile a little more fondly. Even the big scary Ronin needs protection from her nightmares? Well, I hope it works, I really do.

"Oh, before we go…" Ron remembered. "The Crucible… How did you defeat it, in the end? How did you conquer your fears?" I could use a lesson like that, personally.

"I didn't conquer them, I embraced them," Emilia replied simply, confusing Ron. "The Crucible realized that it had no power over me, even in my worst memory. The Ronin taught me to accept my life long ago, Ron, and no potion is going to make me question where I stand. I endured the Crucible, but more than that, it helped me remember why I fight. Instead of destroying me, it has instead reignited my focus." Okay… "Fear is primal, my friend, perhaps even the oldest human emotion, and until we embrace that truth, and embrace our fears; they will always hold sway over us." Embracing one's fears can make one stronger?

"How do I embrace my fears?" Ron had to ask. "Do I just… accept… them?" Shouldn't we fight against fear, and not let it shape us?

"By not running from them, but rather, facing them and understanding that they are a part of you," Emilia replied, reaching forward and tapping his heart. "They live in there, always. You will never escape them, no matter how far you run. When you understand that, the rest just falls into place." For a prodigy, maybe, but not for me. Still, it's good advice, and I'll try to practise it.

---

Sunday 21st March, 1994 (Travers Manor – Past Midnight)

"He wants to be your friend…?" Emilia muttered, while Artyom shook his head in disbelief. "Your friend?! After what he did to Audrey?! Tell me that you are not considering his offer, Ronald!" I don't have the luxury of ignoring it.

Ron drew in a deep breath, letting the night's cool air into his lungs as he leaned forward. Artyom, Emilia, Godrey, and he were enjoying tea on one of Emilia's many balconies, overseeing the grounds and the patrols of mercenaries as they planned their next move in regards to Abadie.

"I am with Ronin," Artyom said, he hadn't touched his tea yet. "This Abadie boy is dangerous and unstable, not good combination."

"He's also intelligent, is swimming in resources, has the ear of the High Mother, and without their information, I might not have saved Tracey-" Ron tried.

"Is she awake?" Artyom asked plainly, while Emilia gave Ron a knowing look.

"No, she's not awake yet…" Ron sighed out, bottling up his stress.

"Then, you have saved nothing," Artyom stated, while Emilia and Godrey shot the blunt Russian dark glares. "From now on, you will not leave country without me. Understand? Take contract seriously!" I am… It just happened; I didn't plan on getting cornered by some psychotic Veela!

"This, I must agree with," Emilia added. "Ron, death may have no power over you…" They all exchanged disturbed looks, while Ron just sipped his tea. "But Artyom is right, there is no advantage in unnecessary risks. And as for Abadie, I'm sorry, but I cannot forgive his crimes against my Family. He must pay for what-"

"He'll kill you," Ron told her outright. "Don't forget that he had us both, Emilia… He had us, and he let us go because he wants to learn to be better, whatever the fuck that means. He even promised never to go after children again-"

"Lord Abadie was banished for a reason, Ron," Godrey interjected. "Treachery is no new concept to the Lords and Ladies of France, especially not Lord Abadie." You know… I don't think he is a liar, at least that's the impression I got from him.

"Look, I'm not saying that we fully trust him, but he's not going away just because we don't want to deal with him," Ron started. "Now, if we do as Emilia wants, and go after him… I promise you, the High Mother and all her Veela will be up our arses by the end of the day. Not to mention the Aurors too, who are no doubt in her pocket and don't even realize it. And even if we manage to survive that mess, I doubt Abadie's men will just let this go. They came after you, Emilia, because they wanted revenge for what we did to the Abadies… They're loyal, and they're willing to step outside the confines of Magical Law to find their justice. Do we really want to deal with this headache? Because I don't… I just don't have it in me." I'd rather keep Abadie at arm's length, rather than him jumping me again when I least expect it.

"So, you're willing to let him go unpunished, because you can't be bothered?" Emilia asked slowly, her voice regaining its former edge.

"That's… That's not what I meant, Emilia," Ron tried, feeling a bit frustrated.

"Then, what do you mean, exactly?" Emilia demanded; he didn't like the look she was giving him.

"You…" Ron started, but then he just stopped. Why are We explaining Ourselves? To these little things?

"Go on, finish your thought," Emilia said, her jaw clenching.

Ron nearly laughed at her attempt to look intimidating, but rather than make matters worse; he decided to give them a reason to listen to him. I wouldn't usually do this, but Abadie is… I can't take risks with that one. He could either prove to be infinitely useful, or, he could be the one who gets me killed.

"Do you want to know how I 'came back from the dead'?" Ron asked abruptly, silencing the table. "Do you want to know what really happened that night?"

The trio just stared at him, their previous conversation dead and forgotten. For now, at least. And then, they each gave a nod, waiting for Ron to continue. Should I really do this? I can't take it back.

"Well…?" Emilia was the first to speak up. "Are you going to-?"

"Go get your Pensieve, I'm going to show you lot something," Ron stood up, buttoning his coat. "But be warned, you'll never be the same again. And I mean that. So, if you want to stay in the dark, which I personally recommend, now's the time to sod off."

They exchanged slow looks, and then Emilia gave Godrey a nod. Very well, then. You asked for it.

---

?

Was it strange that Ron found this dead, abandoned Earth peaceful? Perhaps even a little… desirable? Maybe it's just the quiet of this memory, but I feel at peace here. Ron looked up and down the empty, devastated street, and then he stared up at the fiery-orange sky. It's like he set the air on fire… What did this, exactly?

"This is… not real…" came Artyom's voice, he had sauntered out of a back alley, a dazed look on his face. "Memories are never this precise… How could he even know…?"

"Artyom?" Ron called, and the Russian slowly turned around, his eyes widening at Ron. "Um… Are you okay, mate? You look… shaken."

"This is not real…" Artyom simply repeated, turning around and walking away, still muttering to himself. "It was golden… His memory was golden, not silver…" Damn, maybe this wasn't such a bright idea?

Ron shook his head clear; he would need to talk to Artyom after this. I feel as though I'm always frightening him… It's beginning to make me feel bad, even. I should check up on Godrey and Emilia, hopefully she's changed her mind, now.

Leaving Artyom to explore this strangely vivid memory for himself, Ron headed down the street, avoiding the cracks and potholes along the way. These metal boxes really are cars, then? Cars that don't need tires… Don't know how that works, not sure I even care. How did the Muggles lose if they're so advanced? What in the actual fuck must've happened to leave this level of destruction behind?

As he turned the corner, he finally spotted Godrey and Emilia, both of them sitting by the side of the curb. I need answers, but for now, I'll settle for what Emilia has to say.

"Change your minds, yet?" Ron asked simply, stopping behind them and looming over them. "Or, should I take you further down the rabbit hole?"

"No… No, I've changed my mind…" Emilia managed, still staring at the ground by her feet. Shit, she's just like Artyom… Completely gone. "I don't want to see any more than this… I don't need to…" Good, but I should make sure that we're still friends after this. I don't like doing this to them, but I'm not taking chances because they want to indulge in petty vendettas. Abadie is dangerous, and I'd rather have him on my side, instead of him helping my enemies because I refused his offer of 'friendship'.

Ron moved around Emilia and Godrey, noting that her Elf was doing no better than her, and that he was even sobbing under his breath. Sorry, Godrey…

"Emilia, I wouldn't ask this of you if I weren't desperate," Ron started as he kneeled down to meet her empty eyes, his voice strong and resolute. "I know what Abadie took from you, and Merlin help me… I want to hurt him, you've no idea how much… But there are things in motion that must be stopped, and I can't do it alone. Abadie, and more importantly, the High Mother and her Ivory Court… I will need them one day. We all will. I know I'm the last person who should be asking you to look past his crimes against your own, and yet, here I am… Asking you to trust me. Do you trust me, Emilia?"

Something flashed behind her eyes, but she said nothing, merely giving him a weak nod. I'll take it.

"Then, let's leave this memory, there's nothing to be gained from mourning a future that won't come to pass," Ron said, offering her his gloved hand.

"You can see the future?" Emilia asked, taking his hand and rising. "I… I didn't know you were a seer…"

"I'm not, it's a little complicated, but believe me, this memory is very real," Ron told her. "You can see it, can't you? The architecture, the strange objects all around us, these metal boxes, even the burnt sky… You know I can't make this up." Let's be honest, I'm not that creative nor that clever.

"I know… This is a memory, not an illusion," Emilia shuddered, looking up. "Gods… What did this…?"

"You-Know-Who," Ron answered, freezing them both. "That's right, he's going to win, especially at the rate we're going. I mean, we're so busy fighting with each other that we don't even realize what's at stake. Maybe, we deserve this, after all-?"

"No," came Artyom's voice from his right, the large wizard had found his way back. "If he really did this, then how can you say such thing?" I don't know, don't particularly like our species. We destroy everything we touch. "Who are you? Are you… God?"

"Am I God?" Ron couldn't help but grin, which in turn answered Artyom's question. "Closer to being the Devil, mate, if I'm being honest, but I'm the Devil you need. A necessary evil, if you will. I'm really all that stands between you and this, but don't mistake me for some saviour, I learnt the hard way that that's not who I am. I'm just… Ron."

"And Abadie can help us stop this?" Emilia asked, reaching down to place her hand on Godrey's trembling shoulders. "This will not come to pass, Godrey, I swear it. I'll kill him myself if I have to!" Sorry, but that's Harry's job, something that I still need to work on.

Godrey sniffled as he reached up and took her hand in his, saying nothing as he wiped at his eyes. They're close, sort of like me and Marty. I like that.

"Let's go, I think I've done enough damage to your psyches, tonight."

---

Sunday 21st March, 1994 (Travers Manor – Past Midnight)

"I reckon it's time that Artyom and I went home," Ron spoke up, breaking the heavy silence in the room. "It's getting late, and I don't want my mother to worry."

With his memory placed back inside his head, Ron had decided to let the others come to terms with what they had seen. He didn't feel the urge to hold their hands, of course, but he also knew that this sort of information wasn't so easily processed." Or, even believed. I get the impression that they don't want to believe what they saw, but they're just practical enough that they can't ignore it either.

"Wait," Emilia shot out of her seat, something flashing behind her eyes. "Ron…"

"Yes?" Ron smiled calmly, making them all question his sanity.

"How can you be so calm right now?" Emilia asked weakly.

"Because… I've seen worse," Ron shrugged simply enough. "I know there's far worse out there than what we just saw, and in some strange way, that really does help me cope."

"There is worse…?" Godrey croaked, shrinking further. Oh, yes! So much worse!

"Do you serve the Gods? Is that what you meant about your… mentor…?" Emilia had to ask; it was all she could focus on right now. Bloody hell, she's fast at putting pieces together, though I reckon she's mostly just guessing. "Which would imply that they're real…"

Artyom just shook his head and massaged his forehead, grumbling to himself in his native tongue. Pretty sure he's blaspheming, actually.

"Don't go down this road, you'll only tie yourselves into knots," Ron advised, speaking from personal experience. "All you need to know is that this world is in grave danger, and all because of one fucking man… The Dark Lord. Killing him is all that matters to me, honestly. It's the only reason why I don't toss myself off the Astronomy Tower properly, because I have a job to do, first. Are you lot going to help me? Or, not?"

"You still want Abadie-" Emilia started.

"I want him focusing his intelligence against my enemies, not against me," Ron interjected. "I'm not forgiving him, and I'm not asking you to either. I'm just telling you to put your shit aside while I save your pathetic, little planet from immolation. After I'm gone, you lot can all go back to killing each other, for all I care…" Brilliant, now, my mood is utterly spoiled. I fucking hate thinking about this shit! It fucking stresses me to no end! And I hate dealing with idiots! They make me want to hurt myself!

Ron drew in a shaky breath and rubbed his face, ignoring everyone else in the room. I'm going home. I've got a big week ahead of me, and right now, my focus should only be on helping Octavia. I need to fix the States before I can check out, it's just as important as stopping the Dark Lord and his forces within this part of the world.

"Soon, Abadie will join our ranks, and we'll be ready to start mobilizing against the Dark Lord, again," Ron told them. "Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore have also seen what you've seen, and they're already working with me to stop this future from becoming a reality. All of you in this room will be working directly under Professor Snape, he has inside knowledge of how our enemy operates. I've even got the Headmaster's blessing to kill as many Death-Eaters as I like-"

"Dumbledore allows you to murder?" Artyom blinked, while Emilia and Godrey just stared on in utter shock. "With impunity?"

"Well, not exactly, but I'm higher on the chain of command, so he can't really stop me from doing what needs to be done," Ron shrugged. "Like it or not, but at the end of the day, even he does as I tell him. I'm the Champion, not him."

"Champion? Of what?" Emilia muttered, looking almost frightened of him.

Ron didn't answer, mostly because he didn't want her name in his mouth. Foul bitch, I'll kill you yet. Just you wait for Us. Ron turned his head and cracked his neck, his eyes flashing red at the mere thought of his golden tormentor. "Come, Artyom, we are leaving. Emilia, are you and I good?"

Emilia looked back to Godrey, who gave a subtle nod, still haunted and dishevelled by what he had witnessed.

"Yes, Ron… You have my Oni-Blade at your disposal, always," Emilia looked back to him, a familiar fire behind her dark eyes. "I swear Eternal Allegiance-"

"Woah! Don't do that, please!" Ron stopped her, making her blink. "Don't make some Unbreakable Vow over me, all right? I don't fucking want that. If you believe in what we're fighting for, prove it by your actions. I have no use for empty words." Plus, our alliance won't be eternal, I don't plan to stick around that long. Sounds fucking dreadful, even the notion of it… I'm sorry, but I'm not worth becoming friends with, because I don't want to be trapped in this shithole for a second longer than necessary. I'm going to escape from all of this one day, no matter what. I'll climb out of the darkness, and walk into the light. I will have my reward.

Emilia thought on his words, and then she gave him a strong nod. "I'll prove myself worthy of your trust, Ron. As a Ronin, I cannot ignore what you've shown me tonight. I will not move against Abadie, I swear it…" Yeah, that last bit barely came out of her mouth, but I'll trust her. Hope it doesn't blow up in my face.

"Then, I'll leave you to rest and recover," Ron said, looking to Artyom. "Mate?"

"… Yes… Let's go…" Artyom stood up, leaving the room without even looking in Ron's direction.

"You should talk to him," Emilia whispered once Artyom was gone. "Not that I blame him, of course… Godrey, bring me a bottle of Sake. I need to… meditate…" You mean get drunk and forget what you just saw? I don't blame you.

"I'll be seeing you both soon," Ron said, giving Emilia one last look before following after Artyom.

The muscled mercenary was lingering just outside, staring at the wall ahead of him with a furrowed brow. Ron said nothing as he pulled out his Portkey from his inner pocket, showing Artyom the handkerchief before revealing the Enchanted coin within.

"Who else knows?" Artyom suddenly asked, still staring ahead. "Your father? Mother? Brothers?"

"They know nothing, and they never will," Ron replied. "Artyom, all of this… It began for me when I was only eight, and I never told-"

"Eight? You saw the world burn at eight?!" Artyom turned to face him fully, surprising Ron with the concern in his voice. Well, no… But I might as well have.

"Like I said, I've seen worse since then," Ron said, no hint of pain in his voice. "It is what it is, and it's my burden to live with this knowledge. For as long as I'm able to, at least."

"You want to die," Artyom said, more stating a fact than asking a question. "I see it in your eyes… It is not right; you are still young-"

"I just want some peace and quiet, I'm really not asking for that much, am I?" Ron sighed out, feeling oddly guilty, despite only really wanting this one thing for himself. You know what? I deserve some peace… I deserve it! I've earned it! "Are you going to keep helping me? Or, was it too much? If you walk away, I won't hold it against you-"

"There is no choice here," Artyom said, looking a decade older. "No choice at all."

"Then, we're of the same mind," Ron felt some relief to hear that. "Give me your arm, we should get going."

The Portkey brought them back to Magical Britain, in a dingey alley behind The Leaky Cauldron. The moment they landed, Ron felt a hot, sharp pain shoot up his skull, bringing him down to his knees. What…?! AGH! FUCK! It hurts!

"What's wrong?!" Artyom was by his side in a heartbeat. "Is your brain?!"

"I'm okay…" Ron grit out, as the pain subsided as quickly as it had come. What the fuck was that? Don't tell me that I can't use Portkeys either, now… Fuck! FUCK! It's getting worse-!

"Breathe," Artyom said in a low voice, gently placing his large hand on Ron's back.

The sudden physical contact made Ron jump away from Artyom, his face twisting in panic and his skin crawling. "Don't touch me!"

Artyom blinked, raising his hands slowly before rising to his feet. "I did not mean to frighten-…"

"You didn't 'frighten' me…" Ron lied, feeling his face heat up. Brilliant work, you fucking freak… So much for embracing those fears of yours… "J-Just don't touch me…"

"Okay," Artyom said simply, lowering his hands. "Will not happen again, I promise."

Ron said nothing, swallowing thickly as he realized what his sudden headache could mean for him. If I can't even use Portkeys without keeling over, then what good am I? Bloody hell… Every single day, bits of me just get chipped off, don't they? I wonder what'll be left of me by the end, if anything at all.

Quietly, Ron pocketed the Portkey and made his way towards The Leaky Cauldron, massaging his forehead as Artyom followed with a foot of distance between them. The tavern was filled to bursting, as it often was once the sun had settled. Thankfully, with all the noise and commotion, Ron and Artyom were able to pass through unhindered. Once he was certain that no one was listening in, Ron prepared the floo to take him back to his hidden home.

Passing through the green flames, Ron stopped as soon as he entered the living room, his eyes widening a little in surprise when he saw Snape and Dumbledore speaking to the adults he had left behind. Um… Hello? They're all still here? Why?

"Ron! You're back!" Daphne rushed over to his side, a massive smile on her face. "Sweet Circe, you won't believe what's happened!" Daph? Why are you so excited?

"Hello, Daphne…" Ron greeted, keeping his eyes on Snape and Dumbledore, both of whom turned to face him. "Um… What's going on?"

The fireplace roared once again, and Artyom nearly barged into Ron's back. "Don't stop in front of fireplace, how many times-?"

"Oh, you've brought company, dear boy," Dumbledore smiled at Artyom, who went perfectly still at the sight of Snape and the old man. Relax, Artyom, you can trust these two with your life.

"Headmaster, why are you here so late?" Ron asked, looking to Snape, and then to everyone else.

The adults were a lot livelier than Ron remembered, much like Daphne, with Mr. and Mrs. Davis holding each other's hands and beaming at him. Wait… Please, tell me this is what I think it is-…

"Severus and I have just come from Tracey's room, Ronald," Dumbledore's smile widened, and Ron felt his breath hitch. "We administered the leaf via a Wiggenweld Potion, which Severus tells me was your idea-"

"Did it work?!" Ron rushed forward, ignoring everyone else as his face split into a massive grin. "Is she awake?! Can I go see her, now?!"

"She has not awoken just yet, boy," Snape told him, freezing Ron in place. What-? "However, her colour has already begun to return, and her hand twitched just before Albus and I departed. The leaf is working already, but it will need time yet." It's working… It's really fucking working?!

Unable to contain his excitement, Ron pumped his fist into the air and let out a loud laugh, making the old man chuckle heartily while Snape gave him a dull look for wearing his emotions on his sleeve. Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes! It's working!

"Daphne! Did you hear that?!" Ron turned to face her, only really caring for her reaction. "It's working! Tracey's coming home!" Thank you, Octavia! I promise, I'll help you just as you've helped me! We swear it! Ilvermorny will be saved!

Daphne drew in a shaky breath, her smile widening until she was giving him that very familiar look, the sort of look that made him want to puff out his chest and strut about like a peacock. The sort of look that made him feel invincible, like a victorious knight clad in battle worn armour.

Daphne suddenly broke into a sprint, and Ron knew exactly what to do. He caught her as she jumped onto him, her arms tightening around his neck to the point of choking him, but Ron just laughed alongside her as he swung her about, not caring for the cheers and whistles exploding around them.

At long last, Ron felt some of the poison leave him, and he closed his eyes as he thought of his returning friend. I won't waste this second chance, Trace! I promise, I'll honour everything you've done for me, and then some! Just, please, wake up soon!

---

Sebastian Greengrass' POV

Sunday 21st March, 1994 (Ministry of Magic – Afternoon)

"You make sure to look after him, Sebastian," Mary said, fixing his tie into place. "He has to have a Nutrition Potion every morning, with a meal-"

"I know, love," Sebastian gave her a knowing look. "I'll look after him, I promise. We'll be home before you know it, so stop worrying about him. He's doing better, just look." Not to mention that Arthur already gave me this speech, as did Molly.

They both subtly looked to their right, spotting Ron and Daphne whispering their goodbyes to each other. He's certainly brought Daphne's spirits back. Good, I can always count on him to keep an eye on my daughters.

"My parents will be here on Tuesday… Would it be too much to ask you to come back on the weekend?" Mary asked, looking back up at him. "I'd rather have you by my side, just in case they start throwing their weight around. Especially father…" That damn ingrate. If he disrespects my wife and daughters because of their sex… I'll have him cut into pieces and fed to a Manticore.

"If that is your command, consider it done," Sebastian replied, tapping her under the chin. "Head up, love, you are not seventeen anymore. Do not let them look down upon you, are we clear? You are a Greengrass, now. We don't bow our heads to anyone, not anymore." Not even to the Dark Lord.

"Yes, husband," Mary hummed, leaning up and kissing him. "Oh, and don't forget to make sure that he stays away from any Calming Agents, I nearly forgot-"

"Mary, everything will be all right," Sebastian promised her, smiling just enough to assure her. "I will bring him home in one piece, on my honour."

"Okay… I'm sorry, but I just have this terrible feeling in my stomach," Mary whispered, shooting Ron a worried look. "Make sure he doesn't get into any fights-"

"Now, that, I can't promise…" Sebastian grimaced, he knew that Ron had a tendency to fly off the handle. "But I will look over his shoulder as often as I can, without upsetting him, of course."

"Sorry, I'm late!" James suddenly barged into the Portkey chamber. Finally. "I got… caught up…" he trailed off when he saw the Portkey Officer. Did she wake up? Damn, I'll have to wait until we're alone before I can ask him. Why hasn't the leaf worked yet? It's been over twelve hours.

"Will that be everyone, Lord Greengrass?" the Officer asked, checking something off on his clipboard.

"Yes, just us four," Sebastian said, stepping away from Mary and approaching the Officer. "Ronald Weasley, James Davis, Sebastian Greengrass, and…" he looked to Artyom, who, for such a large man, had a habit of vanishing into the background.

"Just give Portkey," Artyom told the Officer, who swallowed thickly before flicking his wand at the centre of the chamber, revealing an old boot.

"Here you are, Sir," the Officer said, shooting Artyom a nervous smile. Should I have brought Jürgen with me? No, it's better if he looks after my Family, as I've ordered him to do.

"Ron!" Sebastian called, interrupting the conversation between his daughter and his Apprentice. "Come, everything is ready."

They made their way over to the boot, standing around it as they bid Daphne and Mary goodbye. Once the Officer had escorted Daphne and Mary outside the chamber, they each counted down from three before grabbing a hold of the Portkey. The world exploded into bright lights, and they found themselves hurtling through swirling colours and brutal winds, only to land safely within a different Department of Magical Transportation, right in the heart of the Magical Congress of the United States of America.

"Seize them!" a woman roared, not even giving them time to feel nauseous from their trip. What-…?

The chamber was immediately filled with flashes of red and the sound of rustling chains, with a particularly heavy, iron chain wrapping itself around Sebastian's throat with such force that he feared his eyes would pop out. What is this?! Falling to his knees, Sebastian wheezed for air as his fingers clawed at his throat, tearing away at his own flesh. I can't breathe!

"Don't hurt the boy, he's unwell-!" came James' thunderous bellowing, only for a stunner to snuff it out. James?! JAMES?!

"We got him, Chief! He's down!"

"Get off me, you fucks!" Ron was shouting, and Sebastian turned his head just enough to see Ron bound in a dozen chains, pinned down on his hands and knees. "What the fuck is this?! What are you doing?!"

"Fuckin' finally, pendejo!" came the woman's voice again, laughing. "Been waitin' all fuckin' night for your ass to show up!"

Sebastian tried to demand answers, but his vision was beginning to blur, and all he could see were the outlines of over thirty Aurors, a dozen of whom were beating the life out of Artyom with strange metal pipes. They… were waiting… for us…? The chain suddenly loosened, but just enough to let him fall forward onto his hands and gasp for air. Ron! They got him!

"Ron-!" Sebastian tried, but a boot to the side of the ribs knocked the last bit of air out his lungs.

"That's for fundin' the Dark Lord, Death-Eater dog!" the woman hissed viciously, and her Aurors broke out into laughter and cheers. "Your gold has spilled a lot of American blood, and it's 'bout time we got even, hm?"

"Don't you touch him! You fucking cunt!" Ron barked, struggling against the chains but unable to move even an inch. "FUCK! LET HIM GO-!"

"Shut the hell up!" one the Aurors smashed Ron over the head with his metal baton, and much to Sebastian's horror, his Apprentice just dropped forward, unmoving. "That's for making those birds shit on us! Arrogant punk! You embarrassed me in front of my kids!" Ron…? Ron?! NO!

"RON?! NOOO!" Sebastian could only scream as blood began to pool around Ron's head. "What have you done?! He has a Traumatic Brain Injury! A FUCKING BRAIN INJURY-!"

"Yeah, yeah, we know," the woman clicked her tongue. "Johnny, take the little maricòn to his room, tell the Heads we got him and treat that injury immediately." The woman then walked around Sebastian, and he could only scream like a rabid animal at her Goblin Steel-tipped boots, though she was quick to silence him by pinning his throat down with her heel. "And as for you, coño… I wouldn't hold out hope for your gold to come save you this time. You're not in Britain, anymore, and some of my boys… Let's just say that they have an old axe to grind with you."

---

Pansy Parkinson's POV

Sunday 21st March, 1994 (The Hogwarts Express – Evening)

The Hogwarts Express would be coming to a stop soon, and Pansy's nerves were finally starting to get the better of her. Although she herself had little to worry about, her closest friends could not say the same. She felt powerless in the face of their resigned expressions, and hopeless in the silence of their compartment. The worst part was that she was regretting staying with them, regretting not accepting Neville's invitation to join him in the Gryffindor Carriage. I really should say something, but where do I even start…? Or, should I just leave and find Neville? I hope he's not upset with me; I couldn't even tell him why I refused because Granger was there.

Tracey was never going to recover, they had each made their own peace with it. At least, that's what it felt like, as not even Theo brought her up in conversation, anymore. It just hurt to think about her, about how unfair all of it was! Pansy still struggled to wrap her head around it, everything was moving too quickly for her to keep up. And now, even Ron and Daphne are gone… This really is over, isn't it?

Looking towards the door, Pansy felt a strong pang of guilt, she still had time to say goodbye to Neville before they reached Kings Cross Station, but what about her friends? Their parents will be waiting for them. I won't get a chance if I don't say something, now.

Pansy shot a subtle glance towards an awfully discouraged Theo; he had Tracey's earplugs in his ears, his distant eyes staring out onto the passing fields as he listened to one of her favourites. Theo's father won't let him use that Walkman within his home. He should keep it hidden.

"Do you lot want to come live with me?" Pansy asked, her voice strained.

"What was that?" Malfoy asked, cocking an eyebrow. Louder, Pansy! Don't be a wallflower!

"What's going to happen to you, exactly?" Pansy asked, rushing out her words before she could think better. "Yes, you, Malfoy… Where are you spending your Easter Break?"

Millie and Blaise looked to Malfoy for an answer, and he gave them each a withering look. Do you even know? Merlin, this is too stressful!

Malfoy's gaunt features then relaxed, his attention returning to his book. "I'll be a prisoner, same as my mother. The Order won't hurt me, but they won't care much for what I want. As for where I'm staying, that's none of your business-"

"He's staying with his Aunt," Blaise interjected dully. "That, or, he's going with Lord Black. Ron won't be around for most of the Break, on account of his Tournament, and Daphne's made no mentions of hosting him. Where else can he go?" I don't think she'll be hosting any of us any time soon. Especially not Millie…

"If you're going to be a prisoner with the Order, then you ought to take Pansy's offer," Millie advised Malfoy, and then she looked to Blaise. "You're staying with your mother, aren't you?" Are you? Don't go home, Blaise… Your mother is sick, and she scares me.

"Yes…" Blaise replied, eventually.

Pansy's face fell, when had he decided this?

"Blaise, don't be stupid," Theo pulled out his earplugs. "Just go with Pansy, or, better yet, go to Ron's. The Weasleys will look after you-"

"She sent me a letter, all right?" Blaise bit out, shifting in his seat. "I'm in trouble, so just drop it… She wants to see me, and I don't want her coming after any of you to do it. How will it look if I run off with one of you? You don't know what she's capable of-"

"I can protect you, don't underestimate my staff," Pansy countered. "And I can hire strong men to protect us, like Ron's done with his Werewolf Sanctuary. I have the gold-"

"My mother plays in a different league, Pansy…" Blaise said, resigned to his fate. I see… I'm too stupid, right? "And I only need to see her once, after that I can… I'll get away from her once she's done with me."

"Done with you?" Theo shot him a frown. "What the fuck? I don't like the sound of that!"

"Neither do I," Millie looked a bit disturbed. "She'd really hurt you-?"

"Hold on, she's friends with my father-!" Theo started.

"Don't even suggest it," Blaise stopped him. "Your father is the last person I want to be near, and you ought to feel the same. You're the one who needs to accept Pansy's offer, Theo."

"Your father is definitely under the Dark Lord's heel," Malfoy added. "He's most likely going to try and recruit you; do you really want to drag Zabini here into the ceremony as well?"

Theo's expression turned blank, filling the compartment with a heavy silence. Pansy and Millie were already glaring at Malfoy, who looked surprised with Theo's reaction to him stating the obvious, while Blaise was simply shaking his head in disbelief. Scoffing bitterly, Theo plugged in his earphones before returning to staring wistfully out of the window, they wouldn't be hearing from him for the remainder of the Break.

"You're a prat," Millie hissed suddenly, giving Malfoy a threatening glare. "Don't forget about your own father, Malfoy. He went back to kissing the Dark Lord's feet even after he nearly murdered you in the Forbidden Forest." Ugh… Why are you making it worse? "None of us have forgotten about that-"

"You're the last person who needs to get onto her high horse, Bulstrode," Malfoy countered just as viciously. "Which is a mercy to the horse, no doubt-"

The temperature shifted as soon the vile insult left Malfoy's mouth, and within a second, Blaise had Malfoy by the collar with his other hand raised into a fist. "You fucking prick, what did you just say to her?! You think Ron and Daphne not being here gives you the right-!"

"Blaise, let him go!" Millie rushed forward, grabbing his arm in time to stop his fist from finding Malfoy's sneering face.

Her heart beating inside her head, Pansy covered her ears and let out a muffled cry; her friends were devouring each other like wild animals. I'm done! I give up! I'll make new friends; I can't stand it anymore! This is not worth it!

"Why should I take it back?!" Malfoy was shouting, now pinned back against his seat, his collar torn. "Anything I say or do is always taken in the worst way! So, no! I'm not taking it back-!"

"Then, just sod off!" Blaise barked, making even Theo flinch. "We don't even want you! It all went to hell the day you showed up! You're fucking Cursed, Malfoy-!"

"Blaise, stop it!" Millie finally yanked him off of Malfoy, hurling him back to his seat. "You're taking it too far!"

The door suddenly swung open, slamming against the other end. "What's going on in here?!"

Pansy jumped, looking towards Clara with a startled expression; the seventh year looked more horrified than angry. Pansy felt her gut twist even more so at the sight of her. Clara had been ignoring her for over a month, now, and Pansy still had no clue as to what crime she'd committed to be treated this way. She probably figured out that I'm not worth the trouble! She wants nothing to do with me because of my parents-!

"Answer me, what are you lot doing?!" Clara demanded, looking to Pansy for an answer.

"Wrestling," Millie answered, not a hint of emotion in her voice, while Blaise continued sneering back at Malfoy. "Want to join in?"

"Don't give me lip-" Clara started, but Pansy finally reached her boiling point; she didn't need to see Clara fighting with her friends as well.

"Why do you even care?!" Pansy shrieked, shooting out of her seat and barging past Clara. I should've just gone with Neville!

It was surprisingly easy to shove the older witch aside, but then again, Pansy had never wanted to flee so terribly in her life before. Clara tried to grab at her arm, but failing that; she instead began to chase after Pansy, leaving the others to continue tearing each other apart.

"Pansy, wait!" Clara called, hurrying her pace. "What's going on?! Why were you fighting each other?!"

"Leave me alone," Pansy sniffled, rubbing her eyes clear and barging past a couple of smirking Slytherins. "You're only showing up now that Ron's gone-"

"Hold on a moment," Clara finally managed to stop her near the exit leading into the Ravenclaw Carriage. "Where are you going, Pansy? At least, stay in our carriage-"

"Don't grab me," Pansy pulled her arm free, and then she shoved Clara back. "You showing up now only proves my point! You were only ever nice to me because it would have gotten you closer to Ron, right?! But now, you're jealous of him, which is why you keep avoiding me!" It's the only explanation! He took away your 'power', and you want it back now that he's gone? Well, I won't help you!

"Jealous?" Clara looked offended instantly. "Of him?! Listen here, I don't know why you and your friends are so riled up, but don't take it out on me-"

"Then, why show up now? Why did you even start ignoring me? I didn't do anything wrong!" Pansy wanted to scream, but she could only sob pathetically. "I'm not stupid! You're angry with him, all three of you have been acting off ever since Ron took over! Well, guess what?! He does a better job than you three, and he rarely even shows his face in Slytherin! Whatever game you're playing, whatever angle you're trying to exploit, leave me out of it! I'm not stupid-!"

"No one is calling you that," Clara suddenly bit out, her nostrils flaring out of frustration as she reached forward. She's going to hit me! "Just come with me, you need to sit down-"

Pansy took a step back out of instinct; she didn't know that Clara was capable of looking just like her mother. Clara blinked at Pansy for retreating, and then, her jaw clenched as she became determined not to let Pansy run off. Don't be scared of her! She can't lay a finger on you! Not anymore! You're Lady Parkinson, not her!

"Pans, I'm just trying-"

"Leave me alone, or… Or, I'll tell Ron that you're hassling me!" Pansy promised, not caring about the beating Clara would no doubt receive shortly after. "I know people like you! You wouldn't dare try this if Ron were still here-!"

"Okay, I'll stop…" Clara's expression all but corrected itself, much to Pansy's satisfaction. "I've clearly come at a bad time, because you're convinced that I'm trying to use you… But I was just coming to say farewell for now, and to tell you that I'd see you after the Break." Liar! Everyone in this foul House is a liar! "And for what it's worth, I don't think you're stupid, Pansy-"

"Yes, you do, you all think it!" Pansy turned on her heel, wiping at her face. "Well, you're wrong! And I'll prove it you!" My idea was good! I can protect all of us from the war in my manor, but they didn't even give it a second thought! 'My mother plays in a different league…' I was trying to help you, you ungrateful git! Just like Ron was helping you!

"Pansy, just wait-" Clara tried again, but Pansy crossed into the Ravenclaw Carriage and sealed the door behind herself. There! Follow me, now, you two-faced harpy! You might've shamelessly tricked Ron into doing all the work for you, but I won't be so easily exploited!

Crossing the Ravenclaw Carriage was a lot easier, mostly due to Clara not following after her, however, what wasn't easy was ignoring the strange looks being sent her way as she rushed past her fellow students. The Quibbler's article on the Carrow Twins' twisted orgy had finally begun to sunk in even for the youngest of Hogwarts' students, and what little pity they had for her being orphaned was now mostly replaced with disgust at what her Family was capable of.

It didn't matter that Pansy herself had no idea about the depths of her parents' depravity, all that mattered was that she had inherited their blood-soaked gold and their condemned name. And their problems… I swear, I'm going to burn any and all traces of them from existence! I won't be ruined because of them, not when I haven't even started living yet!

"Can you please ho- hold that…?" Pansy sniffled as she neared the door leading into the Gryffindor Carriage.

"Oh, of course!" Chang hopped out of the way, keeping the door open but careful not to touch the Slytherin. "Um… Hey, are you okay-?"

"I'm fine…" Pansy rushed through the door; she was almost there! Now, where would he be?

As she stood at the front of the Gryffindor Carriage, with many of the Lions roaming about freely, Pansy felt herself shrink back against the door. I've never been around so many Gryffindors by myself before… Oh, what am I thinking? We're on the Hogwarts Express! It's not like they'll throw me off the train-!

"Parkinson? What're you doing in our carriage?" came Finnegan's voice, he and Thomas had spotted her as they were nearest the door. "Have you been cryi-?"

Finnegan stopped abruptly, Thomas had smacked him in the stomach after looking Pansy over and realizing that she was in a right state. I'll just go-

"Neville's compartment is close, it's three compartments down from us," Thomas told her, giving her a nod. Finally… A gentleman… "He's with Harry and Hermione, and I think I saw Ginny with them too, though I'm not sure about her. She comes and goes as she pleases."

"Thank you, Thomas," Pansy said, pulling out her handkerchief and wiping away her running mascara. I can't let Neville see me like this, I look like my hag of a mother-

"Parkinson, is someone giving you trouble?" Finnegan asked awkwardly, trading a look with Thomas. "You don't have to tell us, of course-"

"It's just… We like Neville, he's a good bloke," Thomas added, and Pansy could do little but stare at them. "We live with him! In case, you didn't know-!"

"He's told me," Pansy cleared her throat, trying her best to stop herself from restarting. "And no… No one is giving me trouble, thank you. You said he's with his friends?" I'm an absolute mess, should I find a bathroom instead?

"Yeah, do you want us to go get him?" Finnegan asked, noticing that she hadn't moved from her spot yet.

"No, that's all right," Pansy drew in a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. I feel better now that I'm away from the Slytherin Carriage, and the train should be coming to a stop soon, which I never thought would be something to look forward to. I'll ask Neville if it's okay for me to wait with him, though I doubt his friends will want me there.

Following Thomas' instructions, and keeping her eyes from wandering, Pansy quickly came upon Neville's compartment, and upon peering through a window; she could see him laughing alongside Potter and Ginny, while Granger was eagerly reading through a large tome. They're having fun, like proper friends should… They don't even feel the need to keep the blinds down, they've nothing to hide-

Potter's brilliant, emerald eyes suddenly found her, and she nearly yelped; he looked rather intimidating when his brow was creased and his eyes were focused. His expression, however, quickly shifted to one of bewilderment, and then he was heading right for her.

"Parkinson?" Potter slid the door aside and popped his head through the crack, focusing on her face. "Oh…"

Pansy shot an awkward smile towards Neville through the window, who quickly tossed his candy-apple towards Ginny before running over as well and looking over Potter's head. "Pansy?! What's wrong?!" I'm making a scene, I'm what's wrong… "You've been crying… Was someone cruel to you?"

"Can I sit with you, Neville?" she managed; her throat sore. "Just for a bit? I'm sorry-"

"Quick, Harry, pull her in," Neville urged, and Potter did just that, while Neville closed the door behind them.

Pansy immediately noticed the difference in temperature, this compartment was genuinely better heated than the Slytherin compartments. Our Prefects are useless. It's their job to look after our carriage, and it's always cold in there.

"Parkinson? You ought to sit down," Potter patted her back, all but guiding her into a seat next to Granger, who offered her a packet of tissues. Really?

"Thanks…" Pansy took one, dabbing her eyes and then her nose.

"Pansy, what's happened?" Neville asked, sounding frantic. What do I say? I can't tell them the truth. It's… embarrassing…

"Are you scared to go home by yourself?" Granger asked, and Pansy slowly looked to her, confused. "It's okay to be-"

"Why would I be scared?" Pansy asked, and Granger just sat there, staring into her eyes with a blank expression. Weird question, I'm going home to a kingdom of my own.

"Right… Of course," Granger tried to smile, but failed. She's so bloody weird.

"Is someone bullying you?" Ginny asked, and then, her expression turned dull. "Was it a Gryffindor? You can tell us. I'll just ask the twins to prank them after the Easter Break." Why are they being so nice?

"I've had a r-really terrible day…" Pansy croaked, two fat tears rolling down her flushed cheeks. "You can all ignore m-me; I'll just sleep until we get to the station..."

Shifting towards an unoccupied corner, Pansy closed her eyes and rested her head against the glass. She could still hear Blaise shouting, which didn't suit him in the slightest, and Pansy, with no small amount of guilt, wished that she could shove her friends out of her head. The older girls all like my style, and now that I'm powerful, I could-

"Hey," Neville whispered, planting himself to her right, his shoulder bumping against hers. "Do you want to talk to me?" I do, but… What if I just tell him something simple? That'd fine, right?

"My friends are fighting," Pansy whispered back, shifting again and resting her head on his shoulder instead. "I don't want to be around them."

"Oh…Okay…" Neville muttered awkwardly. "Sorry to hear that, Pansy. Anything I can do?"

"Can you wake me up when we get to the station?"

"Of course, I can do that," Neville smiled, though he still looked uneasy around her.

"I'm sorry for ruining-"

"Don't say that, I wanted to come find you ages ago, but I was too nervous to do it!" Neville blurted out, followed promptly by a laugh from Potter. Wow…

"Shut up, Harry!" Ginny hissed, while Granger cleared her throat loudly and focused more intently on her book.

"Sorry…" Potter wheezed, giving Neville a smug look. "Told you to do it-"

"Harry!" Neville all but whined, and despite herself, Pansy couldn't help but smile at them. They're so happy together…

Closing her eyes, Pansy listened to them continue on with their friendly banter, and she put the faces of her friends over the voices. Gods, we used to laugh so much… I'll only see that happen in dreams, now. I'm living the nightmare.

---

Sunday 21st March, 1994 (Parkinson Manor – Late Evening)

Carbey and Pansy stepped into the Greeting Hall, where her staff of Elves was eagerly awaiting to greet her. Pansy counted roughly thirty in her head, wondering how long they had been standing about waiting for her. Their tiny faces were hosting excited, toothy smiles, while their large ears twitched anxiously for her to address them. Pansy even noticed that they had all recently washed themselves, for which she was eternally grateful.

Unfortunately, it was easy to tell that she'd been crying, and their smiles died one by one.

"Mistress?" one of them squeaked. "Welcome home…" Get it together, Pans!

"Thank you," Pansy cleared her throat, taking a step forward. "I'm in need of a shower, and I'm utterly famished. However, before you start making my dinner… I want all of you to get together, and gather up my parents' belongings. All of them. Paintings. Jewellery. Mementos. Letters. Pictures. Even underwear!" The Elves gasped, wide-eyed. "Tonight, we're having a bonfire!"

"Mistress, this is most-" Carbey started, but Pansy quickly turned to him and pulled out her Grandmother's Brooch, offering it to him. "No… Mistress…" That hag wore it, and now it's tainted. I don't want this anywhere near me.

"You either throw this in, or…" Pansy commanded, her expression slowly turning dark. "I'll throw you out, because you were wrong, Carbey; people don't just see what they want to see, you can always show them your cuter side. So, that's what I'll do. I'll show them that I'm nothing like Violet and her fathead husband!" I'll purge them both from this place, and from my life, once and for all. I'll finally be free of them! "I'm Pansy, and I'm in charge, now!"

---

Blaise Zabini's POV

Sunday 21st March, 1994 (Zabini Residence – Dinner)

Blaise headed into the dining room; his wand tucked safely within his long, silver robes. He hadn't seen his mother yet, however, he was certain that she was joining him for dinner. She even laid out these robes for me… Am I going to be buried in them?

A cold shiver ran up his spine, slowing his pace. Fuck, what am I going to do? I can't just walk in there, can I? Blaise let out an anxious breath, hiding his trembling hands inside his roomy pockets. I've got no choice; I made my bed and I have to sleep in it. I can't keep asking others for help, it'll only put them in danger. I only wish I'd seen that before Ron-

"My gem, you're here," came his mother's smooth voice, filled with its false sweetness. "It's been so long."

Blaise froze, realizing that he had reached the table, and that his mother sat at the far end, dressed in a red, strapless cocktail dress. Clementine was smiling, beautiful as always, but Blaise could only stare on in horror. His legs begged him to flee, but the rest of him knew that it was too late. What do I say?

"You are staring, Blaise," Clementine chuckled, making him tense further. She's laughing… She's just killed a man, and she's laughing. "Is your mother truly so beautiful?" You're a monster.

"Yes, you are," Blaise cleared his throat, willing his legs to move. "How are you, mother?"

"As well as one could hope to be, given the circumstances," she replied, her smile still in place. "Come sit down, I made you my favourite." She cooked? For me?

Blaise barely stopped himself from fleeing, instead he took his seat to her right; staring down at an ominous plate of Mushroom Carbonara. "Where are the Elves, mother?"

"I sent them away for the night," Clementine's smile widened, amber eyes seeking chocolate ones. "I wanted us to be alone." She reached forward, cupping his cheek just as he flinched. "I've missed you, my gem."

Blaise drew in a shaky breath, even her hand was perfumed. I'm going to be sick.

"You cooked… for us? You've never done that before," Blaise pointed out.

"My mother used to cook this very dish for me," she said, leaning back on her golden throne.

"You've never spoken about your parents before, my grandparents…" Blaise finally looked to her, more terrified than ever. "Are they still alive…?"

"No," Clementine replied, shaking her head to herself. She's trying not to smile; I can see it. "Mother died whilst I was still at Hogwarts, fifth year. And as for my father… He bit off more than he could chew at one of his feasts. He was always a pig at the dinner table, you see. It's why I've always emphasised good manners to you." He choked to death? And she just called him a pig… "Now, enough about me, tell me about you. You must be in so much pain, my gem." Huh?

"P-Pain…?" Blaise stammered; his anxiety written all over his face.

"Tracey, your friend," Clementine clarified with a happy smile, taking up a golden fork. "Eat it while it's fresh, I put a lot of effort into it."

Blaise looked down to his plate, and his vision began to blur. The world was spinning, as if he were caught in a tornado, and Blaise had to hold onto the handles of his chair just to steady himself. It's poisoned… She's going to murder me… I'm about to die-!

"Blaise? Are you unwell?" Clementine's charming voice cut through the haze like a hot knife.

Sensing an opportunity to leave, Blaise pounced on it. "Actually, I am a little under the weather, perhaps I could-?"

"You should eat, then," she stopped him. "I doubt they fed you anything of substance on that oafish train of theirs."

With shaky hands, Blaise took up his silver utensils, his fork clanking against the plate. "Sorry, I'm sorry-"

"Is something wrong, my dearest?" his mother asked coldly, and when Blaise looked to her; his heart jumped into his throat.

Clementine Zabini didn't look irritated, or, murderous, or, even upset… No, she looked indifferent, as if she were staring at an insect in her path. "Mother, I can explain-"

"You're nothing to me," Clementine told him plainly, and it felt as though his tongue had swollen up. "Your friends are nothing to me. I will kill you, but only after I kill them. If you try to snatch away what's mine, what I deserve… Yes, I'll kill all of you, one by one." Clementine then smiled, just as she always did in the presence of her prey, and Blaise broke into tears. "Or, you can go about your life as you always have; without a care in the world. With my gold and combined assets, you'll never have to lift a finger for the rest of your life. Every need, every desire, every dream could be yours at the snap of your fingers. I am your mother, and I will provide for you, but just as I brought you into this world, I also possess the power to remove you from it. Are we clear on this? Or, are you going to continue with these childish games of yours?"

"No, I'll stop… behaving like a child…" Blaise didn't know what else to say, sobbing like a coward. "I'm sorry, I didn't know better-"

"Would your friend Ronald be crying in your shoes?" Clementine suddenly asked, stopping him.

"R-Ron?" Blaise hiccupped, wiping at his eyes. Why is she bringing him up? She won't hurt him, will she?!

"Would he debase himself like you are if he were the one being threatened?" Clementine clarified, and Blaise could only stare at her in disbelief. She's insane… Is she trying to teach me a lesson? Right after-… She's mad!

"No, he's not like me…" Blaise admittedly, feeling ashamed of himself. Ron's brave, maybe even a little stupid, but mostly brave… Whereas I'm only in it for myself, just like my mother.

"Be like Ronald, then, Blaise, or, the things in the dark will eat you up… We will eat you up," Clementine then reached forward with her golden fork, enjoying some pasta from his plate. "Mhm, it's still good. This is what life should be about, my dearest. The small comforts. You should eat, draw, read, learn, grow, fuck, sleep, and be whoever you want to be." Clementine then rose from her throne, shooting him a rather inappropriate wink which made his skin crawl. "Just don't do it near me, and I won't feed you your friends. Human meat is a delicacy in some regions of the world, you ought to know that. Now, I'm going to go meet with an old friend of mine, and when I return tomorrow morning, I expect that you'll be gone. Stay gone, until I have need of you. Am I understood? You have a vault filled with my gold; use your head instead of your fists and you'll live. Goodnight, my gem."

"Goodnight, mother…" Blaise muttered, staring dully at his plate.

He waited several moments after she was gone before he broke down again. It would've been one thing to witness her wrath, to have her lash out at him, but to hear the truth he had always feared come out of her mouth, that he had never truly mattered to her… It hurt more than it had any right to, and Blaise knew that he'd never be whole again.

---

Monday 22nd March, 1994 (Zabini Residence – Dead of Night)

Blaise sat up in his bed, struggling to make the most important decision of his life. Time's almost up. It's now, or, never. If I do this, if I decide to leave it all behind, then I'll fall right to the bottom of the ladder, a Knutless orphan. But, at least, I'll be rid of her, by her own logic… And it's not as though she cares for me, I'm just another cog in the gold factory she's built for herself.

Moving out of his bed, Blaise looked to his side table, at his accursed Gringotts Pouch. That bit of leather would have complete control over my life if I take it with me… Am I okay with that? If I keep it, then I keep her… And she'll always be a threat to my friends. To Ron. As much as he cared for the others, the thought of her going after his broken best friend alongside the other Purebloods was too much. Where do I go, though? I can't just expect Ron, or, Pansy to pay for me, that's… No, I'm not my mother! I don't plan to steal from the people I supposedly care about! I'll… I'll make my own money… Somehow…

Blaise rubbed his face harshly, who was he kidding? How in the fuck was he supposed to survive in a world about to be besieged by the Dark Lord without his mother's infinite resources? But then again, those very resources will put me in his line of sight, as no war can be fought without funds. Though, I doubt I'll escape for long even if I leave her, given who my friends are… Shit! Shit! What the fuck do I do?! And what if she sees me leaving the pouch behind as a threat? I could leave her a letter, tell her that I never want to see her again… Cowardly, but I don't care… I just don't want her to kill me…

He was beginning to panic again; no option gave him the safety he craved. Either I stick with her and let her control my life from the shadows until she decides to murder me? Or, I run away, leave my pouch behind, and find my own place in this unforgiving world? Ha… This feels like a bad joke… When did my life get so fucked up? And… why didn't I notice until now?

He could already hear Ron telling him that his comforts had made him weak, that he was too reliant on his luxury, and that cut deeper than usual, because Blaise agreed for once. He wasn't prepared for this, but he could have been if he had only listened sooner. What do I do?! I'm so fucked! At least, the others have people who care for them! Family that will look after them if anything goes wrong! But what do I have?! Just her…

"Would he debase himself like you are if he were the one being threatened?" his mother's cold, calculated voice bounced around inside his skull, making him grit his teeth and pull at his short hair.

"I'll show you what Ron would do!" Blaise yelled to himself, as if shouting would help him muster up more courage.

Surprisingly, it did. I don't need her! There has to be some way to find on my own feet! Ron did it, didn't he?! What's stopping me?!

Marching over to his unopened trunk, Blaise hauled it towards the door, shooting his Gringotts Pouch one last look as he checked to make sure that he had his wand. "You're nothing to me too! I just hope you know that!"

---

Harry Potter's POV

Monday 22nd March, 1994 (Twelve Grimmauld Place – Morning)

Harry headed down the stairs in a hurry, eager to start his first day away from the stresses of student-life. Last night had been so much fun, with only him and Sirius occupying the house and talking late into the night about Harry's mundane, day-to-day life, but today, Harry was hoping to see some Order members going about their business. Maybe I'll even learn something new about my parents? I hope so, some of the older members should have served with them.

"Oh!" a weedy wizard with bright, blonde hair suddenly sprang into view at the bottom of the stairs. "Oh, Gods… You're him!"

Harry's eyes widened a bit, but he was polite enough to put on a smile. "Hello, I'm Harry Potter."

"K-Kurt… Kurt Varga," the young wizard smiled sheepishly, stretching the scars on his lower left jaw. Claw marks, just like Remus. Is he a Werewolf? "Sorry about my hair, Sirius said it would help me hide…" Hide?

"You're hiding from someone?" Harry blinked. Is he a criminal? No, I don't think a burglar would greet me like this.

"No one's told you…?" Kurt muttered to himself. Pardon?

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that," Harry jumped the last few steps, landing beside Kurt. "Can you please repeat what you said?"

"Oh, it's nothing… Just some… debtors…" Kurt answered anxiously, not meeting Harry's gaze. He's definitely lying. "I'll s-see you around, Mr. Potter! I should get started on my chores, or, Kreacher'll have my hide."

"You work here?" Harry was even more surprised.

"Well, no, but I can't really do much else to help, so…" Kurt replied, giving Harry one more nervous smile before rushing up the stairs. "Have a pleasant day, Mr. Potter!" Right…

"You too!" Harry called out, but Kurt was already gone. "Never mind, then…"

Confused, Harry made his way towards the dining room, wondering if Kurt were an Order member. No, he doesn't strike me as someone who's bringing the fight to Voldemort. And he mentioned helping by doing chores, and that he was in hiding. Could he be a Werewolf runaway? That would explain the scars-

"Harry! You're up!" Sirius cut into his thoughts, he was eating breakfast with Hestia Jones and Mad-Eye Moody, Harry had spoken to them during the Longbottom funeral service. The Order is here. And I remember Hestia, she was friendly towards me. I could get some answers from her.

"Hello, Harry! It's good to see you again!" Hestia greeted; the young, black-haired witch wore a bright smile to match her bright yellow robes.

"Good morning, Miss. Jones-" Harry started, but both Hestia and Sirius stopped him by laughing.

"Just Hestia, remember?" she reminded him, gesturing him to sit down in front of her, beside Sirius. She's in a good mood. Did something go well for them?

"I remember," Harry smiled, heading over and taking his seat. "Good morning, Sirius. You're up earlier than I expected."

"I had to let these freeloaders back in, didn't I?" Sirius smirked at Hestia; whose cheeks went rather pink. "You don't mind, do you, Harry? We'll need to share this place with the Order." Oh, I don't mind at all!

"Are there any more?" Harry asked casually, shooting a subtle look towards the silent Mad-Eye. He's Head Auror, now, isn't he? Does that mean that Dumbledore controls the Aurors too?

"Stop staring, Potter," Mad-Eye finally spoke up, his Magical Eye fixed on Harry.

"Good morning, Sir," Harry greeted, he was certain that Mad-Eye knew a lot more about his parents than most. I doubt he'll just tell me, though.

"Is it?" Mad-Eye asked, narrowing his good eye at Harry. "What makes this morning good, exactly?" I don't know… I was just saying what everyone always says.

"Oi, what's crawled up your arse today?" Sirius asked, surprising Harry and Hestia with his boldness. "You notice his foul mood as well, Hestia?"

"Well, a bit…" Hestia nodded, and as soon as Mad-Eye looked to her, she looked in the opposite direction.

"All right, I'll just come out and ask," Mad-Eye looked to Sirius. "Why are your people snooping around Knockturn Alley?" Sirius has people? "You've been warned by the Minister already, Sirius. Knockturn Alley will be repaired with Ministry funds, not your-"

"What funds? You're skint broke!" Sirius cut in. Um, what's going on? "There are people dying in the streets, Moody, open your damn eyes. We're trying to help you-"

"You're weakening the Ministry's influence," Mad-Eye countered, sneering. "What you're doing is no different from what Malfoy and his ilk do, you're using your gold to make yourselves untouchable. You're buying power." That doesn't sound like Sirius at all!

"We're not even asking for anything-" Sirius started, growling.

"Yet," Mad-Eye interjected, rising out of his chair, his breakfast half-eaten. "You think Greengrass is like you, Sirius? Or, that Weasley brat? You think he throws money at the poor out of pity?" Ron's helped a lot of people. What has the Ministry done, exactly? Except torment him and put him on trial? "This is your final warning. I will arrest your workers, and give them a taste of the Ministry's dungeons if I see them near Knockturn Alley again."

Mad-Eye then looked to Harry again, his Magical Eye scanning the younger wizard. Mad-Eye then shook his head, before storming out with an angry limp. If there's people in trouble, shouldn't you just accept the help? I should ask Sirius about what's really going on. I want to help as well.

"Well, I'll just have to bribe your Aurors, then!" Sirius called out just as Mad-Eye left the room, growling to himself when Mad-Eye didn't even respond. "What a tit…"

"Sirius, what's going on?" Harry asked, and Sirius let out a long breath.

"Kreacher!" Sirius called, and the old Elf cracked into the room.

"Ah, Master Potter is awake," Kreacher bowed, somewhat surprising Harry. He had a portrait made of me; Sirius showed me last night… I don't know how I feel about that.

"Good morning, Kreacher," Harry put on a smile, he was beginning to grow fond of Kreacher. We still don't know why he suddenly turned so nice. I'm still a bit suspicious about his motives, but he seems to mean it.

"What would Master Potter like to eat?" Kreacher asked, his wrinkled face stretching because of his toothless smile. Oh, God! "Eggs? Some sausages?" That's terrifying…

"That sounds brilliant, thanks," Harry nodded, and Kreacher cracked away without hesitation. How old is Kreacher, I wonder.

"Well?" Hestia was staring at Sirius, and Harry followed her gaze. "What was Moody's problem? What are you up to?"

"You've seen Diagon Alley, haven't you?" Sirius asked her, and she gave a grave nod. I've read about it in the Quibbler, and in Seamus' Daily Prophets. It's mental that wizards can become homeless. "We're trying to fix it, but the Ministry doesn't want our gold. They think we'll use it to strongarm them later."

"Who's we?" Hestia asked.

"Me and a bunch of mates," Sirius shrugged tiredly. "It doesn't matter, our hands are tied until Bones gets her head out of her arse."

"What if Mad-Eye is right about Greengrass?" Harry asked. "No offense, Sirius, but he's really shady. Remember when he tried to have me expelled? He blackmailed Dumbledore!"

"He was protecting his own, parents do that," Sirius sighed out. "If you were in trouble, I'd do the same, wouldn't I?" You would?

Harry didn't know what to say to that, but he was definitely touched. So, he is my parent, then. He just admitted it. A plate of scrambled eggs and sausages suddenly appeared before Harry, the alluring aroma bringing a smile to his face. I still can't believe that this is my life… I even have my own room!

"You're really helping people, the ones without any money?" Harry looked to Sirius, who sat up straighter.

"Well, yeah… I'm trying to, at least," Sirius said casually, while Hestia giggled to herself. "Oi, don't laugh, I'm doing good work out there!"

"Can I help?" Harry asked abruptly.

"Pardon-?"

"I want to help, I have loads of Galleons!" Harry reminded Sirius, while Hestia shot him a quizzical look.

"True, but are you sure you don't want to save that money, instead?" Sirius asked, giving Harry a meaningful look. "Your dad left that for you, kid."

"He'd be helping those people if he were here, wouldn't he?" Harry challenged. Why can't I do the same?

Sirius smiled to himself, looking a bit distant as he often did. "Yeah, he'd be helping them. Your mum too. All right, Harry, you can help, but only if you let me look over your shoulder. You have to be careful with money, remember that." Really? I can help?

"You mean it?" Harry was visibly shocked. "And you'll tell me more about your 'mates'?" He means Ron's group of Purebloods, doesn't he?

"Sure, they want to meet you, actually," Sirius ruffled his hair. "Now, eat up, I want you to show me around Muggle London today-"

"Is that wise, Sirius?" Hestia cut in, clearing her throat. "We've got orders to keep Harry off the streets." Orders from Dumbledore?

"Come with, if you're so bothered," Sirius grinned, and Hestia went eerily quiet. "We'll all be back before lunch, I promise. Kreacher wants to roast up a pig, 'in honour of Master Potter's safe return from Hogwarts'." We're having roasted pig? Just because I'm home? That's a bit much, isn't it?

Harry shook his head clear and dug into his food, eager to finish breakfast and spend the rest of the day with Sirius. I wonder what time Remus will show up, he said he'd arrive by tonight! This is already shaping up to be the best day ever!

---

Sebastian Greengrass' POV

Monday 22nd March, 1994 (American Department of Aurors - ?)

"Pick him back up," the bastard named Johnny growled, and Sebastian's limp body was hauled off of the interrogation room floor by two strongmen.

His senses had taken leave of him long ago, and he couldn't even remember what'd he done to be treated so roughly. He'd committed no crimes on American soil, as far as he was aware. Even as the Dark Lord's puppet, he had remained far away from this country. And yet… They're beating me to death…

"What… do you want?" Sebastian managed after he was tossed in his metal chair, his bruised eyes gazing around the empty, grey room. No windows… What time is it…?

"I want to know how you live with yourself," Johnny leaned forward, his large hands grabbing Sebastian by his tattered collar. "We've all been reading your boy's Quibbler, and we've been wondering, does he know that you and your wife were orgy-buddies with the Carrows?" You bastard… You would dare imply that I share my wife around?!

"You're mistaken… Auror…" Sebastian wheezed, his cut lips stinging horribly whenever they moved.

"You're the one who is mistaken," Johnny growled, his dark, wild eyes and shaggy hair gave him the visage of a bloodthirsty hound. "We know everything! We have photographs of you having dinner with them, that alone proves that you were connected!" That was long before… Before we changed… Before we met the right people!

"They're dead… What does this even achieve?" Sebastian grit out, vowing to kill this Auror.

"It achieves a great deal," Johnny shoved him back, and Sebastian's chair tipped over.

He let out a pained grunt as soon as his back hit the ground, the chair digging into his lower back. "Damn… you…"

"I want to know if you had anything to do with their deaths," Johnny demanded, moving around the chair and kicking Sebastian in his side. "Who was behind the massacre?! Tell me! Was it you?!" Why does he even care?! "Or, was it your protégé?" Ron? Did he leave behind a trail?!

"I've… no idea… what you're talking about," Sebastian coughed out, his eyes drooping. "You'll answer for this-"

A fist crashed against his face, and Sebastian was left reeling, his head dangling as Johnny grabbed him by the collar again. "What makes you think that anyone even knows you're in here?"

"Aurors, that's enough," came a terribly familiar voice; icy and detached, and it was enough to yank Sebastian back into the world of the living. No… It can't be him… How could it be? "I think it's time for the Bureau to step in, he's clearly not cracking under the Aurors' care."

"You've barely given us any time, Sir," Johnny bit out, dropping Sebastian unceremoniously.

"You've been given plenty, from what I'm seeing," the icy voice scrutinized, and Sebastian turned his head to see the outline of a thin, black-haired wizard. Arcturus Carrow… What the fuck is he doing here…?

Arcturus smiled at Sebastian, though the smile never reached his eyes. "Arcturus…? You're an… American Auror…?"

"Not quite, my old friend," Arcturus replied, looking back to Johnny. "Chief Bellator sent me, she wants to speak with you in private. Report back to her, and tell her I'll get the answers we're after."

"The Chief wants to see me? Alone?" Johnny asked, a hint of trepidation in his voice. What is happening-…?

"Are the Heads here?" one of the larger Aurors asked.

"Not yet, but that hardly matters," Arcturus replied, his unblinking eyes returning to a weakening Sebastian. "The boy's gone into a vegetative state, not even Magic is able to stir him." No… Ron… "This'll cost you more than your wand, Auror."

Sebastian's eyes rolled up into his skull, his mind finally giving out under the strain of his trauma and the knowledge that he'd failed to keep his promise to Mary. I'll never stop failing my family… It's my Curse…

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Dream Hogwarts

An electric jolt of pain rushed through his body, stirring him from his slumber. Ow… My head… His vision clearing up, Ron found himself staring at the colourful sky of Dream Hogwarts. I'm back here again? Why?

Flashes of red and Lord Greengrass' screams rushed into his head, and Ron shot off of his back. "My Lord?!"

Looking around frantically, Ron only found a dwindling fire beside Hagrid's collapsed hut. Um… Is that meant to be destroyed? Another jolt of pain shot through his body, causing him to scream and fall forward on all fours. Why?! What's gone wrong?!

He remembered being chained down by the Aurors, he remembered Mr. Davis being stunned, he remembered the Aurors beating Artyom into submission, and finally, he remembered being hit over the head with something made of metal. The American Aurors… They must've been holding that grudge, after all. But why go so far? Bloody hell, they've probably discovered that I carry an illegal wand and an unauthorized Portkey on my person… I'll be in deep shit when I wake up.

Rising to his feet once again, Ron looked towards Hogwarts, just in time to see the Western Tower crumble and collapse in on itself. Uh oh… Bracing himself, Ron managed to grit his teeth and stop himself from screaming when his senses were bombarded once again, his skin feeling as though it were on fire. I have to find him! He has to know what's going on! Was it the blow over the head?!

Clutching at his twisting stomach, Ron began to ascend towards Hogwarts in the hopes of finding his past self. Those fucking Aurors… They're going to pay for what they've done! Maybe I ought to piss off and leave their country to die in a few decades?

Grumbling to himself, Ron shook the idea out of his head. Damnit, I can't allow those idiots to lock me up, I need to get to the Grey Mountain. I wonder if Harkin had anything to do with my capture. Did he figure out that Octavia gave me a leaf? If so, then even Tracey's parents could be in danger. Fuck! It all went to shit, again!

Nearing the wooden bridge leading towards the Courtyard, Ron froze when he heard the muffled crying of a child. This is new… Who the fuck was that? Whoever was crying, they were trying very hard not to be heard but were failing horribly. The closer Ron got to the bridge, the more easily he could hear the stifled sobs coming from behind a nearby bush.

Deciding to investigate, despite being in a hurry, Ron moved around the bush, only to go wide-eyed at who he saw. "You?! How is this possible?!"

The sobs were coming from a younger him, for lack of a better explanation. The redhaired child was crying into his little hands, and Ron figured that he was no older than ten, judging by personal experience. He's a bit skinny, though… I wasn't that skinny at his age, I'm certain of it. Is this a vision? Am I seeing fucked up things, again? Or, is this a Ron from a previous Cycle? If so, how did he die so young? And what the fuck is he doing outside of his Hourglass?

"Hey, you," Ron prodded the boy with his foot, not feeling even half as sorry now that he knew who the cries belonged to. "What are you doing here?"

"…She broke the glass…" the boy eventually murmured, and Ron waited for him to go on. "The Golden Woman… I saw her…" Fate?! She's here?! Oh, fuck my arse! I need to get out of here!

"She broke the glass? You mean she set you free from the Hourglasses?" Ron asked, what did this mean for him? "Why?! She told me that my body couldn't handle the strain of-!"

"Please, don't yell at me!" the boy began to rock back and forth, covering his ears as his bloodshot eyes threatened to pop out of his head. "I'll do whatever you say! I'll save her! I'll go right now! I didn't know it was a test! You said I could start again! All I had to do was jump! You lied to me!"

Ron took a wary step back as the boy broke down into a myriad of frantic apologies and heart-wrenching sobs, giving Ron the impression that he had lost his marbles long ago. Now, I can't help but feel bad… He's so small…

"I'll stop yelling," Ron spoke as gently as he could, reaching forward and awkwardly ruffling the boy's unkempt hair. "I'm sorry, I tend to shout whenever I'm stressed, but I'll control myself from now on, so no more crying. Deal?"

"…Okay…" his upset counterpart replied in a sob that shook his entire body. "Where are we? I'm scared…" He doesn't even know of this place? Merlin, he probably has no idea about what's happening to him. I lived long enough to get some fucking answers, at least, but him? I doubt he even saw Hogwarts outside of his visions. "You don't know where we are, either. That's okay-…"

"We're inside me," Ron told him, and he just stared back at Ron with his sad expression fixed in place. "I don't have time to explain everything to you, but basically… You're being punished… We all are."

"P-Punished?" the boy's lips trembled. "This is hell, then… I was right…" I won't ask if the Entity's ever hurt him, I already know the answer to that and he doesn't need to relive it.

"No, it's not hell, not literally," Ron tried to explain, wiping the fat tears off of his counterpart's tiny face. I really grew, didn't I? "Our job is to stop the Dark Lord, mate, but whenever we fail, we end up in a place like this. Or, wherever that demon ends up. It won't let us go-"

"It's here! I saw it inside of that Hourglass!" the boy suddenly cried again, clutching at his hair. "It wants to eat my hands all over again-!"

"Stop that! You're hurting yourself-!" Ron tried to grab at his thin wrists, but his counterpart suddenly screamed and shoved him back, bolting towards the Forbidden Forest.

"Don't eat me! I didn't know! Just let me try again! I'm so sorry, Mrs. Lovegood-!"

"Come back!" Ron screamed after his receding back, struggling to stand back up. "Ugh… Everything hurts, again! You little git! I was trying to help you-!"

Torrents of pain suddenly shot throughout his body, causing him to flail about like a fish out of water and scream at the top of his lungs. In the distance, he could hear the collapse of another tower, his mind was being torn apart under the strain of Fate's newest cruelty. Why did she set them free?! What did I do wrong?! Fucking bitch! Stop torturing me!

Realizing that his time was short, Ron cussed and bit his tongue as he forced himself onto his feet, dragging himself back towards the bridge. Hurry! I have to hurry! It can't end like this! Not when I'm so close to seeing her again! Crossing the bridge, Ron saw around a dozen more versions of himself standing along the cliffside, all of them spread out along the edge. What… are they doing?!

"Oi!" Ron heard himself yell, leaning against the railing for support. "What the fuck are you idiots doing?! Get away from there-!"

"That's him!"

"He's the one who's still stuck…"

"You had the right idea, mate," the nearest one smiled, his lips trembling as he swiped his long hair back. No… "Fuck this prison."

"Stop! I can help you-!" Ron barked, managing one step before they began flinging themselves off of the edge, even their screams vanishing into the dark below. "Oh… Fuck me… They just killed themselves…"

Leaning fully against the railing, Ron let out a shaky breath, wondering how long each of them had been trapped by the Entity. He mentioned that I had the right idea… Can they really see what's going on outside? If so, they must feel the passage of time as I do, which would mean that some of them have been trapped for thousands of years. Merlin's Beard, maybe I should throw myself off the cliff too? This is not right… It's just not! How can she let that thing do this to me?! To Us?! Ah, fuck! I'm so confused!

Biting the inside of his cheeks in order to distract himself from his throbbing forehead, Ron all but crawled towards the Courtyard, cursing Hogwarts for its overuse of steps. Once at the edge of the Courtyard, he could hear shouting from beyond the Entity's Hourglass, though with his blurry vision, it was difficult to make out what was going on. The voices… They sound like my own. There must be more of me up ahead.

Gnashing his teeth, Ron stood up and began taking in deep breaths, steadying himself before approaching the Entity's cage. It was barely more than a smudge, glued to the bottom of the Hourglass like snot. Small tendrils tiredly reached out towards Ron as he came to a stop, as if hoping to grab him by his throat.

"Champion…" the Entity greeted, its voice barely more than a whisper, but still unnerving enough to put Ron on his guard. "You return to Us at your weakest. Have you come for forgiveness?"

"Are you even capable of such a thing?" Ron countered, and when he got no response, he scoffed before moving on. "You'll get yours; I promise." I'm going to make sure of it.

"He's here!"

"Oi! Look behind you!"

"He has to know what's going on!"

Ron's vision began to clear as he approached the large, sealed doors leading into the Entrance Hall, there were over a dozen Rons loitering about before them, and from the sounds of it, arguing with each other. That is, until he had shown his face. This… is fucked… This is so fucked!

"Not much to look at, is he?" a middle-aged, nude Ron broke the awkward silence, he was in stellar shape. Woah! That's one big fucking sausage! I don't know whether to be proud, or, to be deeply disturbed?!

"Why the fuck is he naked?" Ron blurted out, blinking at his mind-twisting reflections.

"Got murdered in my sleep, was stabbed to death by my witch," the nude Ron replied, while those near him gave him foul looks. "Imperius Curse, I think… Or, could've been because I was cheating on her. Either way, I died starkers, and here we are." I don't even know what to say… I honestly don't. I'm fucking speechless!

"What the hell is going on here?" Ron demanded, eyeing his gathering counterparts. "Who let you out? Was it Fate?"

"That is the very question we are trying to answer," came a calm, rather soothing voice. That can't be me, can it?

Ron turned to his left, taking a step back when he saw an old man smiling at him. The tall wizard's white beard was styled into three separate braids and his long hair was tied back into a neat ponytail. Woah… He looks fucking ancient! But also, a lot like Dumbledore… Powerful.

"You're probably thinking that I died in my sleep too, aren't you?" the old Ron chuckled, his ocean-blue eyes gleaming with excitement. "I wish it were that simple. Sadly, my death was one of the more painful ones, but you've no interest in my life and how it ended, do you?"

"No, not particularly," Ron admitted, inspecting the old man's scarlet and gold robes. "Though, Gryffindor? Really? How did one of you make it so far?"

"We're not that reckless, are we?" the old Ron laughed, surprising Ron and the others. He's laughing, and it sounds like he means it. What a crackpot. "Now, you wouldn't happen to know where a certain Ronald Weasley is, would you? He dresses sharply, wears a sapphire pin in the shape of an Eagle, and he sold the rest of us out to that thing over there." Uh oh… Don't tell me they want revenge? "I believe he has something to do with this little mishap, and if that is the case, then you'd best help us. It's your life that's at stake, we're already dead." Like I'm going to believe that! You probably plan to fuck me over first chance you get!

"He sold you out?" Ron asked, looking to the others. He wouldn't do something like this, would he? What does he have to gain from it?

"He merely protected himself from the demon's wrath," a teenage, short haired Ron stepped forward, dressed in foreign robes consisting of black and yellow. "The rest of us might have done the same in his shoes, it is not for us to decide his fate-"

"Shut up, monk," a bearded, wild-in-the-eyes Ron growled, a Phoenix bandana wrapped around his upper right arm. "Take that 'all life is precious' tripe and shove it up your arse, we're living proof that none of it matters!"

"And does that outlook bring you peace?" the robed Ron asked calmly. "You sound like a wounded dog, waiting to be put down."

"Come fucking try it, you prick!" the bearded Ron snapped, but was held back by the others.

"Will you stop fighting with everyone, cunt?!" a muscled, buzzcut Ron yanked the bearded Ron away.

"He's not like the rest of us! He's a freak!" one of the Rons suddenly shouted, stopping the fighting. Who's a freak?

"Who said that?" Ron asked, looking around. "And if you were referring to me, fuck you-!"

"You're like the Entity! I've seen it!" a Ron around his age revealed himself, dressed in Slytherin robes. Fucking brilliant… A Housemate…

"You lot can see what's happening out there?" Ron looked to his old counterpart. "If so, then you all know it's not that simple-!"

"We can see pieces, it's as though we exist within a dark fog," the old Ron interjected. "Not that you can call this 'existing', mind you. This place is always shifting, and sometimes, we get to peak outside, at everything we've lost. It is another cruel game designed to torment us, but you mustn't fixate on this right now. We must hurry and fix this before it's too late-"

"Fix what?!" the Slytherin Ron shouted, getting louder and louder. "What aren't you two telling us?!" Merlin, what's wrong with this jumpy bastard? I just got here!

"Calm yourself, boy," a Ron dressed in Auror attire sighed out, his rolled-up sleeves revealed a snarling badger tattoo on his inner left forearm. "Do they not teach you any discipline in Slytherin? You've been whining from the moment I laid eyes on you."

"Piss off, Hufflepuff," the jumpy, Slytherin Ron spat out. Really? How was that an insult? At least, put some bloody effort into it. "We need to get away from that freak! He's like the monster who ruined our lives!"

"What exactly is going on with you?" the old Ron asked, studying Ron. "I must admit, even I am curious."

"I don't know, nor do I fucking care," Ron shrugged, sighing. "All I know is that you lot can't stay out here-"

"I'm not going back in there!" the jumpy Ron all but screamed. "No! I'm not going back-!"

"We cannot stay out here, not when we are killing him out there," a sharply dressed Ron placed his hand on the jumpy Ron's shoulder, his bright yellow tie clashing jarringly against the colourless world around them. "We should solve this and return to our… prisons… for the time being. We've all had our chance, let him have his." The older ones seem to want to help me. That's good-

"Finally, his Ministership speaks!" another Slytherin-robed Ron called out from the back, his collar and tie hanging loose. A seventh year? No, maybe a sixth? Ah, who cares? "Go on, keep ordering everyone around. I want to see how this ends-"

"Excuse me, gentlemen, I'm just going to go hurl myself off the cliff like those other Rons," the nude Ron cut in, breaking away from the pack. What?! "This is fucking insane, and I just don't care anymore. Have fun playing whatever game she has in mind, you bloody puppets-"

"My Champion!" Fate's thunderous voice suddenly cracked all around them, making each of them look to the bright lights in the sky. "Bury Ronald Weasley, and take your place at my side! Divinity awaits you beyond the gateway! Embrace it!" Bury Ronald Weasley? Aren't we all Ronald Weasley? And what gateway-?

A golden lightning bolt tore through the sky, crashing down upon the Astronomy Tower. Ron shielded his eyes against the flash, and when he looked again, he saw a bright, golden glow emanating from the top of the tower. The gateway, I presume… I still don't get it; does she want me to go up there? And why that fucking tower in particular, hm? You rude bitch-…

The large doors suddenly creaked open, revealing a caved-in Entrance Hall, much to Ron's discomfort. I don't have much time; I need to get moving-!

"What's happening to you?!" the old Ron suddenly stepped away from him, and Ron looked down at his body in confusion.

His suit, which he had been wearing before being jumped by the Aurors, was beginning to break apart into thick, black smoke, until eventually, Ron was adorned in a familiar set of flowing, shadowy robes. This is what I was wearing around Fate, when she took me to that other dimension. She said that it was the Void clinging to my skin, or, something…

"It's nothing," Ron cleared his throat, feeling the slight bumps behind his fingers. My claws are there, just behind the skin! I still have power here, whereas they don't, from the looks of it-…

"She was referring to the Champion, but I ask all of you lost souls; aren't we all the Champion?" a hooded Ron lurked out of the shadows, his cloak was as dark as night. Um… What are you wearing, mate? "I believe there's a good reason as to why we're all tasting freedom in over a thousand years!" A thousand…? "This is our fortuitous moment to rewin the Mother's favour, don't you all understand?! She was calling out to each of us! But in her all-consuming love, she does not understand that only the worthy should be called upon to serve!" This fucking cunt's lost it… He's going to start something if he keeps at it!

"Your chance for what?" Ron asked, looking each Ron over. Shit, they're already looking a little too conflicted for my liking. "You've all had your Cycles, and you've all failed! Now, this is my chance, and I'm not about to let any of you-!"

"Die, demon!" the hooded Ron shrieked as he rushed Ron, pushing aside his cloak to reveal a jagged piece of glass. "You can't have her! She's mine!"

"Oh, shit-!" Ron tried to jump out of the way, only to stop when a well-aimed rock knocked his would-be killer to the ground.

"Grab him!" the Ron in Auror attire barked, and the muscled Ron rushed over; pinning the screaming hooded Ron under his knee.

"Stay still, you gangly fuck, or, I'll break something by mistake!" the muscled Ron roared over the rising shouts.

"Are we animals?!" the old Ron's voice suddenly boomed, silencing them all momentarily. "Is this what we've become-?!"

"Fuck you, old man, I'm not going back in there!" the jumpy Ron broke into a sprint for the Entrance Hall, and absolute pandemonium erupted as a result.

"Get back here!"

"Stop! Just take it! Don't hurt me!"

"I'll fucking kill you!"

Just as a pack of wild dogs who couldn't remember their last meal, the Rons descended upon each other in a mad dash to escape their collective torment. Ron, in an attempt to pull his old counterpart away from the fighting, failed to see to another Slytherin version of him creep up, brandishing a sharpened stick, which he jammed into Ron's side. White-hot pain froze him in place, while his much older self went wide-eyed at the bleeding wound. He fucking stabbed me! The little cunt!

"I'll get rid of you, first! Then, I can worry about the rest!" his attacker was shouting, but Ron could only hear his own heart pounding like a war drum in his ears.

Howling in pain, Ron swung around claws-first, slicing at anything that even remotely resembled flesh, his eyes gleaming crimson as blood filled his vision. Who's next?!

"Yes, Champion! YES!" the Entity roared from within its cage, laughing tauntingly as it watched Ron trample over Ron in a selfish attempt at self-preservation. "This is the heart of you!"

Grabbing his already-carved, and screaming, counterpart by the back of his collar, Ron shoved his left digits deep into the bastard's back, wiggling his fingers within the gushing wound as he grinned maliciously. "How's that feel?! You should have stayed dead!"

Tearing his fingers out, Ron turned and sneered at the rest of them, each of them were attempting to steal what was rightfully his, and in that moment, as he watched 'himself' work to destroy everything he had ever fought for, Ron could only feel one emotion; an overwhelming sense of self-hatred. Can't even rely on Ourself! Is there no end to Our failures?!

His bones cracking under the strain of his change, Ron began to twist himself into a monstrous form, his arms and legs stretching and contorting until his shadow was completely enveloping his unsuspecting victims. "NOOOOOO!"

His true voice tore through the collapsing landscape, freezing every fucker on this sorry plain of existence dead in their tracks.

"You will not undo Our work!" Ron roared, launching himself forward with all of his might.

Shocked by the power of his own legs, Ron flew over a majority of his horrified counterparts, landing right beside a tiny, screaming version of himself. Run, or, We'll eat you up! Within a second, two Rons had already jumped onto him, one of them choking him from behind while the other punched and clawed at his face.

"Get off!" Ron growled, tearing the Hufflepuff over his shoulder and crushing his face underfoot. "GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

Hurling the other Ron back into the terrified mob, Ron fell forward on all fours, his claws scraping against the ground as he began crawling towards the Moving Staircase much like a spider, his limbs moving fast and in perfect sync with one another. OURS! OURS! OURS!

His large hand crushed the skull of the jumpy, Slytherin Ron, who lay dead by the steps leading out of the Entrance Hall, his head dashed open against the stairs by some other Ron. Too many other ways inside this castle! We must be behind those who entered unhindered! HURRY!

With more and more Rons bursting into the castle from behind him, while a dozen or so of them were already fighting to the death all along the Moving Staircase, Ron decided to make a shortcut for himself. Getting into the Astronomy Tower is all that matters, but access from the seventh floor will meet the least resistance! Climb! We must climb!

Letting out a bloodcurdling scream, as if his throat was being torn apart by his own demonic voice, Ron began climbing the empty portraits all around him, using them as a makeshift ladder to bypass the occupied stairs. This Cycle is Ours, and only Ours-!

"What the fuck is that?!" one of the Rons yelled, and Ron looked back to see them all staring at him in utter disbelief, with many of them shrieking and breaking into different directions.

"IT GOT LOOSE!"

"The Entity is free! RUN!"

"It's not the monster! It's just his puppet!"

"I don't see any fucking difference!"

Ron felt his blood boil at the last comment, even amongst other Rons; he was still the fucking outcast somehow, but rather than lamenting being on the outside, Ron embraced his differences, as these very differences were going to help him win. Use any and all means necessary for victory, that is what none of them understand! NOT A SINGLE ONE!

Ron let out another monstrous roar, the bottom half of his jaw splitting down the middle and revealing a maw of dagger-sharp teeth. We'll fucking eat you all!

"FUCKING GO! MOVE, YOU DUMB BASTARD!" the bearded Ron suddenly shoved the robed Ron down the steps before swiftly rushing towards the fifth floor. That one! He's ahead of the pack! Him first!

The movements of his elongated body came naturally to him, Ron found, and with each ledge and painting, Ron found himself catching up undisturbed. However, just as he began to reach the third floor, a rock hit him on the back of the head. Fuck! Who threw that?!

Glaring down at a shaking, frail Ron, who looked no older than ten, Ron was reminded of another pre-Hogwarts version of himself. Idiot boys! We've no time to waste on you! Biting back his anger and self-loathing, Ron hurled himself towards a higher ledge, ignoring the one who had attacked him in favour of reaching the one nearing the sixth floor. We're almost there! FASTER!

Throwing himself across the width of the Moving Staircase, Ron landed on the platform leading into the fourth floor. Just above him, two Rons were fighting to the death with swords snatched from the many plated knights decorating the castle. Ron fell upon them just as one disarmed the other, and with his brutish strength, he lifted both of them into the air by their throats.

"Demon filth-!"

"You fucking prick! Whored your soul out to-AHHH!"

Ron tossed them both off of the edge, not hesitating for a moment before moving on. Getting closer and closer to his target, Ron began running as hard as his legs could carry him, and by Merlin, he had not thought it possible for him to move at such inhuman speeds. He tore past his counterparts like a tornado through a Quidditch Match, leaving behind a trail of broken bodies and impartial destruction in his wake. Those who had the sense to flee, Ron ignored, but those who challenged him quickly found themselves shattering beneath his rage and brutality. Weaklings! How could any of you hope to end this madness?! You've already failed!

"RON!" he bellowed, finally catching his bearded self's gaze. "You will not steal Our Cycle from Us, wretch! Not a single second!"

His bearded self sneered down at him from the sixth-floor platform, ripping a decorative spear off the wall beside him and hurling it at him. Ron's torso mangled itself out of the way, rearranging once the danger had passed. That was a mistake you'll soon regret!

"Fuck-" his bearded self started, but he was immediately silenced by a kick to the side of the head by their robed self, sending him screaming over the railing. That one went around! We didn't see him!

Crimson, toad-like eyes clashed against ocean blue ones, and Ron knew what his past self was about to do; he was about to make a run for it. Selfish… Father was always right!

"Go on, run all you like," Ron grinned, his long tongue licking his bloodied teeth. "We'll just catch up to you, and then, nothing will save you."

"I can do things you can't! I have knowledge now that I didn't before-" his robed self tried, but Ron simply let out a scathing laugh.

"You think your fancy kicks will stop The Lord of Serpents?" Ron suddenly sneered. "Or, more importantly, Us? We'll tear your fucking legs off and fuck you bloody with them!"

Clenching his jaw, the robed Ron broke into a sprint, using gravity-defying agility to traverse the crumbling stairs at the top. Quick little bastard, isn't he?

Giving chase, Ron began to climb up after his robed self, hurling sizeable rocks at his back whenever the opportunity presented itself. Unfortunately, just as Ron was about to grab his past self's ankle, the robed Ron managed to roll onto the seventh-floor platform, before shooting up to his feet and making a run for the Astronomy Tower.

"Get back here!" Ron screamed maniacally, dragging himself onto the platform before barrelling after his prey. "Slippery little cunt!"

The seventh floor was in an even worse state than the rest of the castle, with much of the floor having collapsed outright, leaving very little space for anyone to navigate. Ron spotted his robed self clashing against the Auror version from before, and after a bit of back and forth, the robed Ron suddenly landed a roundhouse to the side of the Auror's face, sending him hurtling down a large crack and to the sixth floor below. He's skilled at hand to hand combat, We'll give him that!

Leaping over the cracks and pitfalls, Ron was close to pouncing on his robed self from behind when he felt the air leave his lungs; his robed self had thrown a kick behind without looking and nailed Ron in his sternum. Dropping onto his back and wheezing, Ron was shocked at how much strength was behind the attack. He could've killed Us just then!

Rising to his feet and towering over his past self, Ron grinned from ear to ear as he filled his lungs with the metallic air around them.

"You are a danger to everyone we love-" his past self tried again.

"Right now, you're the only one in danger," Ron growled, sharpening his claws against the wall behind him. "Now, come and die all over again, if you will. We demand it."

His past self flailed his arms about before taking on a fighting stance of some sort, with one foot planted firmly on the ground and the other slightly raised. Ron nearly started laughing at how absurd the moron looked, as if he were a clown trying to balance spinning plates. Who taught you this useless shite? They got you killed!

Letting out a strong grunt, the robed Ron launched himself forward, kicking the side Ron's knee before landing three straight jabs to his core. Ron barely budged, however, looking down at his past self with a mixture of disappointment and bewilderment. We're nearly ten feet tall, and that's all you're bringing to the table? How… insulting…

"Now, that…" Ron started, reaching down and grabbing his robed self by the throat. "…was just bloody pathetic!"

With little effort, Ron hurled his past self against a wall, smirking when he bounced off if and crumpled to his side.

"You have Magic, and yet, you resort to throwing punches and kicks like some ingrate child?" Ron had to ask, to confused to take this particular version seriously. "We have faced others like you before! We have learnt to adapt! You will taste no victory here, mortal! We need only strike once, and you will crumble, like a castle built out of sand!"

"You talk too much," the robed Ron dragged himself up, shaking off the dust from his robes. "Whichever one of use walks away was the stronger warrior, let's just leave it at that."

Charging at Ron again, his past self threw a kick to the side of Ron's forearm this time, followed quickly by a fist to the sternum. Ron grit his teeth, being forced a step back from the impact of the blow alone. Trying his best to grab his smaller self, Ron failed each time to seize the robed Ron, who was landing pointless blow after pointless blow all along Ron's body. NOW!

Sensing another punch to be on its way, Ron brought his own fist down against his past-self's, relishing the cracks that rang out across the hallway. The robed Ron managed a pained grunt before Ron smacked him across the face, sending him rolling to his side. Don't relent now!

Sneering, Ron kicked his past self in the ribs, send him screaming through the air. His back hit the wall hard, but he somehow landed on his feet, shaking himself off again before doggedly heading back over to Ron.

The robed Ron's assault came slower this time around, with most of the blows causing Ron mild discomfort at best. Seeing another chance to break past his counterpart's guard, Ron took the punch to the ribs in return for slapping the robed Ron as hard he bloody could.

Blood splattered against the floor as his robed self's teeth went dancing across the ruined hallway, while the 'warrior' himself crumpled back down to his side, unmoving.

"Pathetic," Ron snarled, grabbing his past self's ankle and yanking him into the air. "So, what can you do that We cannot? Hm? Oh, unable to speak? No teeth left?"

Unceremoniously, Ron tossed his limp counterpart down a nearby crack, finally turning in the direction of the Astronomy Tower. All Ours! With no one left to challenge him, Ron rushed towards the only door on the seventh floor which led into the Astronomy Tower. He could still hear the fighting happening beneath his feet, and he wondered how many Rons were simply letting loose rather than trying to escape. Which reminds Us… Where is that Ravenclaw parasite? Why haven't We seen him lurking about yet?

Nearly tearing the Astronomy Tower door off of its hinges, Ron barged up the empty, spiralling stairwell, only slowing down once he heard a loud humming noise coming from right above him. The gateway! It must be within the classroom!

All but tasting his victory, Ron grinned from ear to ear, none of the other Rons had managed to make it to this point, after all! Entering his Astronomy Classroom, the very room he had attempted to end his Cycle in, Ron found an angry, golden rift floating in the middle of the room. It looks like the red scar the Dark Lord unleashed over the world, the one Fate showed Us! A gateway to Divinity! A bridge between worlds! The amount of Magic seeping out of the gateway made all of Ron's hair rise, leaving his body riddled with goosebumps. This is Our way back home! We are certain of it!

"Well done, Champion," Fate's voice echoed within his ears, and Ron snarled like a wild animal as he looked around for her. "You have proven yourself once again before my eyes."

"Fate?! Where are you-?!" he stopped abruptly, going wide-eyed at Ravenclaw Ron's dangling form; he was hanging from the high ceiling, golden chains made of light wrapped around his bruised wrists. "What have you done to him?"

"He could not be allowed to participate," Fate replied, her voice in his head causing him great discomfort. "However, he still has his uses. He will reseal the souls of your lesser-selves for-"

"You can't do this to Us!" Ron roared, causing the entirety of Hogwarts to quake. "SET US FREE! Why should We serve if eternal damnation is all that awaits Us?!"

There was no response to his outrage, which only fuelled the fire within him. Why wouldn't she respond?! Why was she so hellbent on throwing him to the World-Eater?! What was even the point of this massacre?!

"Answer Us!" Ron threatened, heading over to the edge of the room and climbing over the railing. "Answer Us, or, all your plans end tonight! What is the meaning of this intrusion, Fate?! Have We not proven Ourselves worthy of every challenge so far?!"

"Bury Ronald Weasley," her voice repeated, infuriating him beyond words. "Embrace your fears, Champion. Feed upon them, until you are fearsome yourself."

Ron froze, Emilia's voice bouncing around in his mind. Embrace my fears…? What do I fear? Ron slowly looked down, realizing that he was only one small step away from making a fatal error, and yet, he felt no fear. It's not dying I fear, that's for sure.

Down below, within the Courtyard, Ron spotted the old Ron kneeling before the Entity's cage, sobbing to himself in the dark while the Entity mocked him relentlessly. It was always right about me-… Us. The moment they got free, they tried to steal what was mine… Maybe I really should bury Ronald Weasley? Bury the human within me… Is that what she wants?

Ron looked back at the powerful rift, his gaze being pulled deeper and deeper into its blindingly white centre. His throat went dry as a cold shiver ran up his spine, he was afraid of whatever was on the other side. I'm afraid of what I need to lose in order to save everyone else. I'm afraid of who I'll become if I go through that rift… But… Maybe that's what Emilia meant… She didn't choose such a fucked up life; she instead had to embrace the wrongs done to her simply to survive long enough to become an adult. Why can't I do the same? Is it because I'm afraid of becoming the Champion in earnest? Am I afraid of the responsibility? Or, the struggles that come with it?

Climbing back over the railing, Ron slowly approached the rift, his body shifting and twisting as he returned to his usual form, save for the shadowy robes.

"If I do this, if I embrace my role as your Champion…" Ron started, looking up at the unconscious Ravenclaw Ron. "You'll set the others free? You clearly have the power to do it!"

"What difference would this action make?" Fate asked indifferently, and Ron nearly gave up on the spot. Fucking heartless bitch… There are little kids here… Little kids who've been tortured into madness over something they can't even begin to understand.

"It would give me incentive to succeed, for one," Ron tried, his voice losing all strength. I'm not even talking to a person, feels more like a brick wall with sentience and infinite power… Why am I always shocked at how little they care? "And if that isn't enough, do it just to spite the World-Eater. I know you hate that thing as much as I do. If you give me this, I'll do as you say. I'll bury him proper."

"If you bring an end to the Cycles, your wish will be fullfilled," Fate promised, and Ron let out a shaky breath. I'm not thanking her… Not for this, not for anything! Fucking bitch!

Shooting one last look at his past self, and shaking his head at the miserable sight, Ron looked back to the gateway, preparing himself for what was to come. It was always going to end here for me, wasn't it? Cedric and Olivia didn't save me that night, they merely postponed my suicide. And now, it's time for me to jump, and embrace whatever comes next, but not as Ronald Weasley. Ron has dreams, he even desires his best friend… He'll never be enough, because he'll always choose to be selfish. To be human… Well, I won't let that happen… I'll fucking kill him, first!

Taking a few steps back, the Champion drew in a deep breath, his eyes flashing crimson as he suddenly charged at the rift. Forcing his eyes to remain open, the Champion threw himself into the rift, vanishing into the skies in the form of a golden bolt of lightning.

---

Tracey Davis' POV

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Tracey woke up with a start, clutching at her bleeding neck in order to stop her life's blood from leaving her, only to discover that she wasn't hurt in the slightest. Where… am I? Where's Ron?! Shooting up to her feet, Tracey looked frantically in each direction for her friends, but all she saw was an endless expanse of white. Her blood freezing within her veins, Tracey slowly began to put the pieces back together.

They had gone to Hogsmeade to enjoy themselves, and despite Pansy's mother being an utter bitch by cutting off her daughter without warning; they'd all had a relatively enjoyable day. And I was telling Ron about my plans to join the Order when-…

Screams suddenly filled her head, the screams of her fellow students and friends as she lay dying within the snow, her throat torn open by a malicious Curse meant for one of her closest friends. She'd felt every second of it, the pain had been so great that Tracey had tried her hardest to beg Theo for a killing blow. But all I managed to do was cover his robes in blood… My blood…

Shrinking and hugging herself, Tracey began to look around with burning eyes. I'm dead, aren't I? I died at thirteen, and this must be… Heaven? Where are the Angels? There's nothing here! It's empty!

An overwhelming sense of loss filled her, bringing her to her knees as she let out a gut twisting cry. She thought of her parents, and of how they would suffer and mourn for her in the years to come. She thought of Daphne, her repressed best friend who would never break out of her shell without Tracey there to egg her on. She even thought of Theo, and how losing her would only bring him closer to his father, a man she had no love or respect for. And Ron… I jumped between him and that Curse… Did he get away? Did I save his life? At the cost of my own?

She found herself deeply regretting her choice, which only made her feel ten times worse about her circumstances. I threw away my life at thirteen… I didn't even think twice, I just threw it all away-!

A large shadow suddenly passed over her, but when her teary eyes darted up, she saw nothing but white. "Hello?! Is… I-Is anyone there?! If anyone can hear me, please… I need help…" The shadow dashed past her left this time, but once again, Tracey was too slow to keep up with it. "Who's there?! Show yourself!"

Feeling more terrified and alone than she ever had, Tracey stood up and began running in a straight line, hoping to escape this place despite not knowing which direction to go. The shadow followed after her, dashing in and out of view so fast that Tracey could never hope to keep up with its erratic movements. Although, whatever it was, it was definitely hunting her; she could feel its hunger every time it drew near her, as if sniffing to make sure if she was ready to be served.

Tracey picked up her pace as the shadow flew past her head once again, coming closer than ever this time around. "Get away from me! SOMEONE! PLEASE! Help me!"

The endless white around her began to dim, just as the shadow became more and more overbearing. Her breath catching in her throat, Tracey let out a scream and a sob as she continued running towards the endless expanse.

It was going to get her, and there was nothing that she could do. It's over, it's going to get me-!

But just as she began to lose hope, just as her legs began to tire; she saw it. Not far off in the distance was a veil, a strange, shimmering doorway of sorts. It looked completely unnatural, terrifying even, however from beyond it, Tracey was certain that she could hear her mother crying for her to come home. MUM?! Dad?!

"Mummy!" Tracey screamed as loud as she could. "I'm here! Please! You have to save me! It's trying to get me-!"

She suddenly froze, right before throwing herself through the shimmering veil, as if control over her body had been seized by some outside force. Tracey found that she couldn't even open her mouth, nor turn her head, all she felt was a bone-chilling wind, followed by a soft, haunting voice.

"Nothing escapes me. If not today, then tomorrow. If not tomorrow, then the day after. No matter where you go, no matter what you do… You will always end up back here. Always."

Tracey was suddenly flung forward, and she went screaming into the veil, the endless expanse collapsing in on her until it all went dark again.

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AUTHOR'S NOTES: Sorry for the extra time on this one, but I really couldn't find the inspiration for some reason to just sit down and get it done. Everything felt like ass, probably because it was! (Probably because it still is...)

I have to go cry now...

See you guys soon, though!