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.

142. Chapter 142 - Miracle

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Ah, jeez! He's still alive?!

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! Starway Man is a chad!

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Fate

Chapter 142 – Miracle

The Champion's POV

Tuesday 23rd March, 1994 (Four Seasons Hotel, New York – Late Afternoon)

The Champion finished drinking down the last of his Calming Draught before knocking on the door, he could already feel the potion doing its good work. Two Calming Draughts in one day… Not even one day, but a couple of bloody hours. I really ought to devote more time to honing my Occlumency. That is, if I can find the time and will for it amidst the shitstorm I'm caught up in. Blood-thirsty Aurors, an overly territorial lightning-chicken, an excitable Dryad, a shadowy Headmaster, mysterious Sages, and a creepy mountain which is going to kill everyone… And people wonder why I stress constantly. Not to mention this Horcrux business…

Shaking his head to himself, the Champion knocked once again, and this time, the door swung open almost immediately. "Ah! Ronald, you've returned at last!" He's still wearing that ridiculous apron? Why?

"I was only gone for a bit, Headmaster," the Champion said coolly, noticing that the older wizard was already studying him. "Yes, I've taken a Calming Draught. Can I come inside, now?"

"Of course," Dumbledore moved aside, giving the Champion a warm smile as he did so. "Where is Artyom? I sent him to look for you." No comment about me 'abusing' the Calming Draught, eh? Cheers for that. I was honestly expecting a lecture.

"And I sent him to the American Aurors, they've promised me a lot of information," the Champion made his way into the apartment, quickly realizing that it was abnormally quiet within. "Is Professor Snape still asleep? And what about Mr. Davis?" Where is Sebastian?

"Severus' leg was acting up again so it's best that we don't disturb him," Dumbledore replied, waving his hand and banishing the pink apron."As for Sebastian and James, they departed with Fawkes shortly before you arrived."

"What? They're already gone?" the Champion turned around, pleasantly surprised at the prospect of not seeing Sebastian' face again. And here I thought I'd need another Calming Draught just to ignore that man.

"Yes, James was most eager to return to his daughter's side," Dumbledore chuckled merrily, however, his twinkling eyes were still studying the Champion. "I suggested that they wait for you, but Sebastian thought it best to give you your space."

"How thoughtful of him," the Champion whispered coldly, looking around the gaudy apartment. "Well, seeing as the owner has left, we might as well search for a new place to hang up our coats."

"Sebastian informed me before leaving that we are welcome to his-"

"Do you really want to stay in this apartment?" the Champion interjected, frowning. "I'm sorry, Sir, but I just can't. I'll end up setting fire to it before we leave, I promise you. It's just too much… All this pointless extravagance. I want a quieter place, a more hidden place." Like my Chamber of Secrets.

Dumbledore looked all around himself, at the crystal chandeliers and the designer furniture, and he quickly found himself agreeing with the younger wizard. "It certainly is… excessive, even by my standards. You are right, I think. I will find us more suitable lodgings while you return to England. Unless, you still need more time…" he trailed off, giving the Champion an expecting look. You're right, no point in putting it off.

"No, I'm ready to go see her," the Champion said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "How did Mr. Davis take the news, by the way?" Do I have another beating to look forward to?

"He does not blame you, if that's what you're wondering," Dumbledore replied softly. "Ronald, he wanted nothing more than to show you his gratitude. Even before leaving, he asked if you would be visiting soon. He's just happy knowing that his daughter still has a future, and that's all thanks to you." No, it's all thanks to Octavia and her Sacred Tree. I was just the delivery owl.

"Right…" the Champion whispered to himself, once again swallowing his guilt and letting it burn a hole inside him. "There's no point in wasting time, then… Call Fawkes, please. I'm ready."

"Why don't you try it?" Dumbledore smiled at him, much to his confusion. "There's something I wish to confirm, that's all. Humour me, dear boy."

"Okay…" the Champion said slowly, eyeing the old wizard before clearing his throat. "Fawkes! I need-!"

A burst of flames interrupted him, followed by Fawkes' sharp talons on his shoulder. Merlin, I didn't even finish the sentence. The Phoenix spread his wings boastfully, looking ready for another adventure with the Champion.

"Outstanding," Dumbledore laughed, his smile now threatening to split his face open. "This is truly marvellous news!" Um… Is he having a stroke? This isn't the first time I've called Fawkes, remember?

"What is?" the Champion asked, while the Phoenix cocked his head at Dumbledore. "Are you going to elaborate on that?"

"Not at all!" Dumbledore beamed, earning a deadpan look from the Champion. Mad old codger. "Oh, and don't forget to drop by the Burrow, Ronald. Your family is worried for you, and seeing you on your feet will help ease their hearts." I do need Salazar's notes, and they're tucked away safely in my room. I hope there's something in there that can help me figure out if Harry and I are Horcruxes… How am I going to break this news to Professor Snape and the old man if I'm right? Where do I even start?

"Sure, Headmaster," the Champion agreed, his empty eyes moving about the apartment lazily. What are we going to do about Harry? I know I'm already fucked, but he still has an entire life waiting for him after the Dark Lord-…

"My boy, is everything all right?" Dumbledore asked, he'd noticed that his friend was acting even more withdrawn than usual. No, Sir, everything is fucked, and it's about to get worse, I reckon.

"I'm sorry for letting you down all the time, Headmaster," the Champion suddenly said, feeling the urge to apologize for being a constant headache. Merlin, please let me be wrong about this, because if I'm not, then the old man is in for more heartbreak. I know he cares a lot more for Harry than anyone thinks, and I know losing Harry would be the same as losing 'Hope' to him.

Dumbledore stood perfectly still, his smile slowly vanishing and being replaced by a look of paternal concern. "Ronald, you haven't let me down… Where is this coming from?"

"You and I both know that I have," the Champion said simply, not feeling the need to elaborate either. "Anyway, I'm off… I need to make a different stop before St. Mungo's. Are you up for it, Fawkes?" I bet Draco's read the papers, but he's not at St. Mungo's because he feels he's got no right to see her.

"What stop?" Dumbledore asked, he looked genuinely bothered by the Champion's apology.

"Draco," the Champion replied, and Dumbledore waited for him to go on. "He actually gets along with Tracey, but not so much with the others. It will do her good to see him, and-"

"It will do him good to feel accepted," Dumbledore finished, and the Champion shrugged. That's what I'm hoping for, because I no longer have the strength to make them all get along. It's time they buried the past and moved on, just as I have. "That's very thoughtful of you, dear boy. How can you think that I've been let down by you when you consistently prove your character to me?" What character? The murderer? The madman? The monster?

"I think you just want to see the good in me… In everyone," the Champion countered. "It's going to get you killed one day, but I don't think you're going to stop."

"Never."

"I figured as much," the Champion looked back to Dumbledore, his eyes distant and his expression blank. Someone like you should've been the Champion, not a lowly, stupid thing like me. You would've saved us all by now. "I'll see you later, then."

"Yes, you will," Dumbledore said, almost as though he were making a promise. "Have a safe trip, Ronald."

---

Draco Malfoy's POV

Tuesday 23rd March, 1994 (Tonks Residence – Late Evening)

"Draco! Ted's home! Come have some tea!" came his aunt's booming voice, making the platinum blonde grit his teeth. Why does everyone in this house yell?! They're all so unnecessarily loud!

Grumbling to himself, Draco rolled off of the bed and dragged himself towards the door, his weathered gaze darting towards the discarded copy of today's Daily Prophet. Reading about Tracey's miraculous recovery and Weasley's declining health had left Draco feeling even more restless than before.

Restless, and full of conflicting ideas…

He wanted to go see her, much to his own surprise, and not only that, but he genuinely wanted to show his support in some manner. It would make sense to do so, seeing as she had shown him her support and encouraged the others to give him a chance just as she had. It hadn't worked, of course, but it had meant something to Draco, even if he hadn't shown it. However, upon learning of Weasley's latest seizure, he had quickly talked himself out of that idea. The others will be worried for him, and if they see me, Zabini might actually strangle me this time around…

"Then, sod off!" he could still hear Zabini screaming in his face. "We don't even want you! It all went to hell the day you showed up! You're fucking Cursed, Malfoy!" Yeah… Yeah, I am…

Draco drew in a deep breath to steady himself; he knew that his time with the group was now over. Without Weasley there to defend him, the others would cast him out into the cold again, where Flint and his goons would no doubt be waiting for him. But what if I don't go back to Hogwarts? Weasley left, so why can't I? And yet, where would I go? I doubt Aunt Andromeda will just let me sulk around her house for months on end… She'll force me to go back to that cesspool for 'my own good', I just know it. Ugh… Why do I keep pretending as though I have a say in how my life turns out? It's the Order that decides my fate now, not me.

Descending down the stairs, he made his way towards the dining room, where his aunt and her husband were waiting for him.

"Ah, there he is!" Edward smiled at him; the big-bellied man was far too friendly for his own good. "I'm surprised to see you here, though, if I'm being honest. Haven't you read the papers, Draco?"

"I have, yes," Draco answered as he took his seat at the end of the table, his voice aloof. It looks like Tonks is still away on her mission. Shame. I wanted to ask her about her work, and about what really happened in Knockturn Alley. Did Dumbledore really destroy it all by himself?

"So, you know your friend is no longer stuck in a coma, right?" Edward blinked, shooting his wife a quick glance. No, I somehow missed the first page. What do you think?

"I tried, dearest, but he wouldn't listen," Andromeda said, studying her nephew. "He said he doesn't want to go, and that there's nothing there for him." No, there really isn't… Why is that so hard to believe?

"What's going on here, boy?" Edward asked Draco directly, annoying the blonde. "You're really not going to see that poor girl?"

"It's none of your business," Draco replied sharply, a defiant glint in his eyes. "Edward…"

"Draco, don't be like that…" Andromeda sighed out, but her husband didn't look bothered in the slightest.

"It is my business," Edward said instead, his demeanour calm and collected. "You're living under my roof, which makes you my responsibility. There's clearly something out of place here, and I want to know what it is." Draco sneered down at his empty plate at that. "What's stopping you, Draco?"

Draco said nothing in response, still staring down at his plate.

"Why was your collar torn when we picked you up on Sunday?" Edward went on, waiting for a response but getting none. "Draco, did you have a fight with your friends?"

That question stung the moment Draco heard it, so much so that he wanted to physically lash out at the man. Don't do it, or, they'll never help you with mother… Without their help, she'll never be let out of that room.

"…Just leave me alone…" Draco whispered icily, his hands curling into fists under the table.

Andromeda shared another look with her husband, and then, she rose up and moved over next to Draco, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder tenderly. "Draco, is someone bullying you? You can tell me; I remember what being in Slytherin was like… How negative that common room can be… I remember it well. So, please, if there's anything you need to tell me, now is the time." And what are you going to do? Go to Dumbledore? That old crackpot? He doesn't care about anyone but his precious Gryffindors. No one will raise a finger to stop Flint, I promise you, not a single person! The only person who ever did is-… He's just gone, and I'm not even sure if I'll ever see him again-…

Draco's thoughts were interrupted by the sudden bellow of roaring flames coming from the adjoining living room, and within a heartbeat, his aunt and her husband were on their feet, their wands drawn. What's going on?! What was that?!

"Take him out the back, now," Edward ordered, while Andromeda took Draco by the arm and all but lifted him out his chair. "Hurry!"

"Come on, Draco! Quickly!" his aunt pleaded, the panic in her voice tied his stomach into a knot. Are we being attacked?! What the fuck is happening?!

As Andromeda guided him towards the backdoor, a very familiar voice rang out through the house. "Draco, are you here?! It's me! Tonks?! Anyone home?!" Weasley?! Did… Did I summon him by thinking of him?! And did he destroy the fireplace on his way in? Is that what that noise was?

Andromeda stopped and looked back to her husband, both of them letting out shaky breaths before sheathing their wands. Draco, who too was somewhat shaken, couldn't help but note how jumpy the couple were and how speedily they had flown into action. Are they really expecting to be attacked at any moment? Is it because of me, or, because of Edward? I suppose Aunt Bellatrix being on the loose has them all terrified.

Weasley entered the room at that, and Draco was genuinely taken aback to see the redhead. Not because he hadn't expected to run into Weasley any time soon, but rather, it was because Weasley now resembled a walking corpse. He was as white as snow, save for the dark rings under his eyes, and in his black suit, it looked as though he had just come from his own funeral.

Oh, and there was a fucking Phoenix perched on his shoulder, and if Draco was correct, it was Dumbledore's companion: Fawkes. What the hell is he doing here? And when was the last time he slept? Merlin' s Beard, I've seen ghosts with more colour to them!

"Hello," Weasley greeted them all, his voice detached and low. "Sorry about the noise. Fawkes here isn't very subtle."

"Christ alive, boy, you scared the life out of us," Edward sighed out, falling back into his seat. "Why is Fawkes with you? And what exactly are you doing here? Aren't you meant to be in America?"

"Again, I'm sorry for disturbing your evening, Sir," Weasley said coolly, his tired eyes, however, were fixed solely on Draco. "But I've come to take Draco to St. Mungo's." Shit…

"Oh, really?!" Andromeda perked up immediately, much to Draco's frustration. "That's fantastic news!"

Draco, however, didn't share that sentiment, mostly because he knew Weasley was acting off just by looking at him. Hold on… He's not on that potion again, is he? Draco looked right into Weasley's eyes, and when he saw nothingness staring back at him, he knew that he was right. No thanks! I'm not going anywhere with him!

"I… I don't want-" Draco started, but stopped as soon as Weasley raised his gloved hand.

"She was kind to you, and you know it," Weasley reminded him, and Draco felt a lump form in his throat. "Is this how the Malfoys repay kindness?" No, of course not… "It doesn't have to be a long visit. Just show her that she's got your support, and I'll bring you home right away. How's that sound?" And if I say no? Are you going to drag me there against my will?

Draco shuffled uncomfortably in his spot, feeling torn again.

"Oh, go on!" Edward encouraged, whilst his aunt looked all too pleased with Weasley. "Your friend's come all the way from America to pick you up, you can't say no to that!" He's not my… Ugh, I hate him so much… Who just shows up out of the blue with a bloody Phoenix?! Absolute freak of nature!

"Thirty minutes at the most," Weasley promised, and Draco began to have second thoughts about not visiting Tracey. If he's there, the others will stay clear of me. It's… It's not a bad idea-… "I'm not here to twist your arm, so just tell me if you don't want to come with me. I'm in a hurry here." Fuck… He's being strangely reasonable, isn't he? I suppose being disqualified from that tournament must've gotten to him.

"…We can't go empty handed…" Draco eventually murmured, ignoring Edward's nod of approval and his aunt's proud smile. "Can we go to Diagon Alley, first?"

"It's getting dark out there," Weasley replied in a blunt tone. "Get her a present in your own time." What a prick…"Come. Fawkes will take us there."

Draco walked over cautiously, giving the Phoenix a wary look. "Why do you have Dumbledore's bird? Did you steal it?"

"His name is Fawkes, and don't call him an 'it'," Weasley didn't answer the question. "Show him some respect; he's been on this earth for centuries, and will be here long after we're all gone." He's right about that… Even father was envious of Dumbledore for having earned a Phoenix's respect. I suppose Weasley's managed that as well now, and he's showing off.

Stopping by Weasley's side, even Draco couldn't deny how majestic Fawkes was up close; his feathers were vividly crimson, save for his sharp talons, his lengthy tail, and his sleek beak, which were gleaming gold. And although he was only the size of a swan, Draco knew that his strength could never be matched by any witch or wizard. Where did Dumbledore find you? And why are you helping Weasley?

"I'm ready," Draco swallowed thickly, and Weasley immediately took him by the arm. "Oi, ease up-"

Draco was stopped short when his entire body erupted in flames, only for him to find himself standing within a white, spotless hallway, staring directly at a closed door. Merlin! That was bloody brilliant! I didn't feel a thing!

Draco freed himself from Weasley's grip, looking down the hallway and spotting a pair of Nurses who were staring back at him wide-eyed, as well as a few patients. Is this even legal? We're not going to get into any trouble, are we?

Weasley ignored them all, focusing on Draco instead. "Before we go in there, there's something I need to tell you."

"Tell me what?" Draco asked, noticing that even more people were now staring. "And is this why it-… Is this why Fawkes brought us out here?" Careful with your words, Draco. It only takes one wrong sentence to set him off.

"Yes," Weasley replied. "And as of right now, only a handful of people know what I'm about to tell you, so you'd best make sure to keep it to yourself. Understand?"

"I understand…" Draco replied slowly, alarms already going off in his head. "…What's happened, Weasley?"

"The Curse damaged Tracey's throat," Weasley replied, his voice cold enough to send a chill down Draco's spine. "She'll be mute for the rest of her life." What…? What did you just say?

Draco blinked, processing the words that had just left Weasley's mouth. "…What…?" You can't be serious… If this is some sick joke of yours, Weasley, I'll fucking hit you…

"The Curse damaged Tracey's-"

"…I heard you, Weasley…" Draco muttered in disbelief. "Fuck, that's…" he trailed off, it wasn't often that he felt pity for someone other than himself. "What do the Healers say? Do you know?"

"They can't do anything more for her." Then, what fucking good are they?! Isn't this their job?! To help fix the injured?!

"So, she'll…" Draco stopped, his throat had dried up. "What's she going to do…? Is…? Is she going to leave as well? Like you? Because, without her voice, she won't be able to control her Magic-"

Weasley suddenly raised his left hand palm-up, and arcs of lightning crackled in-between his fingers. Woah! "I've spoken with the Headmaster already, and he's assured me that Tracey still has a place at Hogwarts. You don't need a voice to manipulate Magic, all it takes is focus and training."

"Focus and training?" Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing, nor could he believe how indifferent Weasley sounded. "And let me guess… You'll be the one teaching her?"

"No," Weasley replied, further surprising Draco. "I offered to teach you lot plenty of times, but none of you took my lessons seriously, save for Millicent. I'm done wasting my breath." What…? "And there are more important matters that require my attention, now. She'll have to figure it out herself, just as I did." More important than the girl who saved your life? Aren't you the prick who's always harping on about loyalty?

"You're really not coming back, are you?" he heard himself ask, and when Weasley said nothing in response, Draco felt his heart drop. You can't leave, Weasley… I still need you… You can't abandon me like this…

"Are you ready to go inside?" No… Not particularly…

"…Yeah… Let's go…"

---

The Champion's POV

Tuesday 23rd March, 1994 (St. Mungo's – Late Evening)

It was taking everything in the Champion's power to stop his hands from shaking, and as he grasped the door's handle, he found that he did not have the strength to open the door. C'mon, old boy, just turn the handle. It's not that hard. You've taken on greed-addled politicians and genocidal maniacs… So why can't you turn this damn handle?

A sharp jolt of pain suddenly shot up his skull, making his entire body seize up. What the fuck?! Ow!

"Weasley? What's wrong?" he heard Draco from beside him. What just happened? That really hurt.

"Sorry," Ravenclaw Ron's voice echoed within his mind, and the Champion immediately frowned. "Just doing my job, that's all." Do it more carefully, then! You're supposed to put me back together, not break me further.

"Why are you just standing there?" Draco asked, while the Champion drew in a calming breath. It's fine… I'm fine… I'm not rotting from the inside at all. Everything is just fine.

"Just give me a moment," the Champion drew in another breath.

Draco said nothing, merely giving the Champion a short nod. The others are probably here too, and I wonder how they've taken the news. Not well, I imagine, especially not Daphne. Fawkes leaned down closer and hummed in the Champion's ear, as if he had sensed the turmoil within. That's a nice melody… I can do this. The Champion faces his fears, he's not a coward who runs. I am the Champion of Fate, and nothing can stop me. I am in complete control.

"Thank you, Fawkes," the Champion whispered, giving the Phoenix a scratch under his beak. "Draco, ready?"

"Are you?"

"Yes," the Champion straightened his back, and then he turned the handle and began opening the door.

Laughter immediately bombarded his ears, freezing him in place again. What the…? The Champion looked back to Draco, who was equally surprised upon hearing the jolly voices coming from within. What the hell is going on here? Did I get the wrong room? It was difficult to tell what was going on inside from just the voices, but whatever it was, it wasn't what the Champion was expecting.

"Oh, someone's at the door!" came Susana's voice. "I think James is back with the pizzas!" The fucking what? "Don't peek at my cards while I'm gone! That goes double for you, Astoria Greengrass! I've got my eyes on you!"

Deciding to see what was going on for himself, the Champion pushed himself past the threshold, turning towards the right side of the room and coming face-to-face with an excited Susana Davis.

"Ronald?" she became rooted to her spot, her massive smile slowly vanishing as she looked him over.

"Ron!" those behind Susana greeted him with much more gusto, but the Champion ignored them, as he had already locked eyes with Tracey.

She was sitting upright on her bed, a radiant smile on her gaunt face, which only grew wider at the sight of him. In the background, he could hear the others talking, excitedly calling out to him and asking him to join them, but the Champion could only stare at his saviour in absolute silence and awe. Her eyes were so full of life and laughter that they nearly melted the Champion's frozen heart within an instant.

Nearly…

"You…" Susana whimpered; her eyes now full of grateful tears. No, keep it together. No one can know of the leaf, not even Tracey. "Ahem… Welcome, Ronald. We were all wondering when you'd make an appearance." Good, now keep a straight face.

"Is that a bloody Phoenix on your shoulder, Ron?" Theo asked, his mouth hanging open. "Where did you get that?!" That?

"Not just any old Phoenix," Blaise pointed out, smirking. "That's Fawkes, right? Dumbledore's pet?" He's not a pet-… No, ignore it. Focus on Tracey.

"Let me get the door," Susana said, hurrying past the Champion and Draco, who had picked up on Susana's bizarre reaction to their arrival.

"We had to put a Silencing Charm around the room because we were making too much noise," Pansy giggled, not looking guilty whatsoever.

"You should come play with us!" Tori exclaimed, waving her cards about. "Both of you, I mean!"

"Ron, are you feeling all right?" Daphne asked right after, all of her joy had been replaced by distress the moment she had laid eyes on him. No, Daph, I'm not, but that doesn't matter.

The Champion nudged Draco forward, following after him until they were both standing at the foot of the bed. Tracey continued to beam at them, though the Champion's sickly complexion had clearly dampened the mood somewhat. Merlin, just look at her… She's really awake. Thank you, Octavia. I will forever be in your debt.

"Can you lot give us some privacy?" the Champion asked, shooting a quick glance at Daphne. Help me out here.

"Of course, Ron," Daphne managed a small smile, before looking to the others. "C'mon, we've all had our turns."

"Don't take too long, I was winning," Pansy was the first to get up, giving Tracey a kiss on the cheek before taking Tori by the hand. "Let's go, you little cheat."

"It's not cheating if I win," Tori giggled, waving at Draco as they all began to leave. "Hi, Draco."

The platinum blonde cocked an eyebrow at Tori, before giving her a short nod in response. What's this, eh? Theo and Blaise immediately grinned in Daphne's direction, while she gave her sister's back a bland look before shaking her head clear. They must all be in a really good mood, because not one of them looks unhappy to see Draco here. I wonder how long that'll last.

"I'm glad you came, Ron," Daphne whispered as she walked past the Champion, tenderly squeezing his bicep along the way.

The Champion ignored her, keeping his eyes fixed on Tracey instead, afraid that she'd vanish if he even dared blink. Once the three of them were alone, the Champion nudged Draco again. You're up.

"Go on, say whatever you need to say." And try to sound convincing, please.

Tracey turned her attention to Draco, who shifted about uncomfortably. "It's good to see you awake, Davis, and um…" he looked even more unsure of himself, now. "And if you need anything, I'm here…" That's it? Really?

Tracey hummed and tapped her chin; it was obvious that she was trying very hard not to laugh at Draco's piss-poor effort, but then, her demeanour turned extremely smug, much to Draco's annoyance. She's about to take the piss out of him, isn't she? I remember that look, she's-…

"I want… a proper hug from you," Tracey managed, her struggling voice cracking the Champion's heart in two. Gods… She sounds wretched… I will fix this, Trace. I will fix everything before the end, I promise you.

Draco just stared at her in disbelief, and then, he looked to the Champion for an explanation. "I thought you said that she couldn't…" he trailed off as Tracey grinned and wagged her eyebrows. I've missed those whacky facial expressions of hers, I can't deny that.

"I'm full of… surprises…" she croaked, opening her arms. "Now, get over… here… I can't… walk just yet."

"Um… I don't think that's a good idea," Draco refused; he was visibly uncomfortable at the notion of hugging her.

Tracey narrowed her eyes, pouting. "Ron… Get him…" Yes, ma'am.

The Champion turned to face Draco, who instinctively took a step back. Cutis Terra!

"Weasley, don't you fucking-!" Draco turned to flee, but the Champion grabbed him by the back of the collar before wrapping his other arm around Draco's stomach. "OI! NO-!"

"Up you go," the Champion lifted Draco up under his armpit, while Fawkes shrieked in alarm as he hopped onto the bed.

"You son of a bitch!" Draco wiggled about like a fish out of water, but the Champion casually walked around the bed and delivered him right into Tracey's embrace. "This is so fucking deranged! Davis, get off of me!"

Tracey sniggered maniacally, before planting a sloppy kiss on the blonde's cheek. "I knew… you loved me, Dracey-poo."

"Don't sully my name! Ugh, you left spit on my face! Weasley, help me! Great Circe, why are you so strong, Davis?! What are they feeding you here?!"

As he watched Draco fail miserably in escaping Tracey's bear-hug, Ron found himself feeling happy for the first time in a long time, only to remember who he was now. No! Stop it! This isn't your life anymore! It never really was!

The Champion quickly used his Occlumency to smother his emotions before the other two saw him, failing to notice that Fawkes' eyes were fixed solely on him. Stay in control of yourself, and don't forget that you're the bloody reason why she's here in the first place. You don't get to smile like an idiot after everything you've done, you vile cunt. You don't deserve that privilege.

Tracey suddenly let go of Draco, who immediately squirmed off of the bed and glared at the Champion with murderous intent. "I fucking hate you, Weasley, and I'm pretty sure she just bent my spine! Merlin's balls, that actually hurt!" Stop whining, how could she possibly have hurt you? Look at her, she's nothing but skin and bones…

"Sorry," Tracey struggled to contain her mirth, while Draco fixed up his ruffled clothes like a petulant child. "But… Don't leave, okay? Stay… Draco…"

"What?" Draco looked back to her, his expression weakening. "…You want me to stay?" Of course, she does, you dolt.

Tracey gave Draco a blank look, before smiling from ear to ear. "Yes… We're friends, Draco… That hasn't… changed…"

"…Right…" Draco muttered, his face becoming even more red. "I'm not sure the others-"

"Don't care," Tracey cut him off. "Stay… Please? For me?" Damn, her voice… Fuck! When I reach Hell, I'm going to murder Violet Parkinson all over again!

"Tracey, you need to save your voice, remember?" the Champion spoke up, it was unbearable for him to hear her like this.

Tracey blew raspberries at him, before looking back to Draco. "Stay… please…"

Draco shifted about in his spot, clearly having second thoughts about leaving now. "Okay, but I can't be out too late… My aunt will worry…" He'll stay? I didn't expect that. Good man.

Tracey grinned victoriously, and then she looked back to the Champion, offering him her hand. "Your… turn, Ron…"

The Champion looked down at her bony hand, his gut twisting painfully as he took it within his gloved one. Slowly, he sat down at the edge of her bed, shooting Draco a quick glance.

"Give us a moment," the Champion ordered, unable to hide how torn he felt inside.

"Sure," Draco nodded, clearing his throat. "I'll be um… outside, I guess… Again, I'm glad you're back, Davis."

Tracey just smiled in response, waiting until Draco had left the room before she looked back to the Champion. Where do I even start? What sort of words could ever make up for what I've taken from her? They both sat in silence, hand-in-hand, and despite how guilty and full of regret he was, the Champion couldn't help but feel hope every time she squeezed his hand.

She was alive, sitting right in front of him, and he wasn't even dreaming. This was real, and for that alone, the Champion would be forever grateful.

"Tracey, I'm sorry for doing this to you-" the Champion started.

"No… Don't do… that, okay?" Tracey cut him off, pain flickering across her face. "Ngh…" Fuck, she's in pain, and it's never going to stop, is it? And it's all my fault…

"Please, you shouldn't talk, not until I find some way to fix this," the Champion implored, taking her by surprise. "I swear, Trace, I will find a way, and I'll never stop until-"

Tracey shot forward, hugging him so tightly that the wind got squeezed out of his lungs. Merlin! Draco was right! What the fuck?! He didn't make a sound, however, as pain had become an old friend. Instead, he just sat there, trying his hardest to stay in control of his overwhelming emotions, to keep all the pain locked inside. Control… Stay in-…

"Not your fault, Ron…" Tracey whimpered, sniffling. "I would… do it again… Every single time…" No… Don't say that, please… "Because… I love you, and you would… do the same for me. I know you would…"

Ron's mask finally cracked, and he felt the fight leave him entirely. His arms were wrapped around her back before he even realized it, and soon, he was sobbing into her shoulder, his entire body trembling. I'm so fucking sorry! I never meant to hurt you, Tracey! I'm so sorry!

"I never meant for any of this!" Ron coughed out, both of them holding on tighter. "It should've been me, not you-!"

"No, Ron," Tracey said, putting all of her resolve into it. "Just no."

"I've taken your future from you!" he wailed, overcome by not only his guilt over Tracey, but also by the absolute hatred with which he saw himself now. "I pushed them, Trace! I pushed and I pushed, but you paid the price-!"

"I'd do it again…"

"Don't say that! Please-!"

"I would," Tracey squeezed tighter, making him wince. "You can't blame… yourself… I won't let you…" Why don't you hate me? After everything you just lost over me? "I love you… Nothing's going to change that… Not ever…"

He could only sob in response, feeling both humbled by her strength and ashamed for not possessing it himself. She had given up so much for him, and yet, there wasn't a hint of regret in her flayed voice. Ron had never seen this kind of strength within her before, and it gave him hope… Hope that, if she could endure such hardship with a proud smile, then there wasn't anything in the world that could stop Tracey Davis from living her best life.

With that thought in mind, in this moment, in the embrace of a friend he thought he'd lost forever, Ron felt happy…

He felt whole again.

---

Tracey Davis' POV

Tuesday 23rd March, 1994 (St. Mungo's – Late Evening)

Something was very wrong with Ron, and now more than ever, Tracey wanted to know what the hell was going on with her friends.

The first sign that something was off with them was the fact that Millie hadn't dropped by to visit her yet, and whenever Tracey asked after her, she was given vague responses about Millie being on 'holiday with her parents'. When she had finally pressed the issue and asked where Millie's parents were taking her for this 'holiday', they had each given a different response, only to laugh it off and settle on Scotland. They lied to my face, and what's worse is that they did it so poorly. Maybe Ron will be a little more forthcoming? Oh, wait, it's Ron… What am I thinking?

"You're staring," Ron suddenly said, pulling her from her thoughts.

"How can I not?" Tracey whispered with a wink, she found it easier to speak if she kept her voice as low as possible. "Pretty boy."

Ron snorted, bringing a smile to her face immediately. That's better. "Pretty isn't the word I'd use, Trace."

"Good thing… I'm the one using it, then…" Tracey grinned, making him roll his eyes. Hehe, teasing him will never get old. Look at him, trying to hide that bashful smile of his. He loves it!

Ron had just gone through another one of his, for lack of a better term, breakdowns, sobbing on her shoulder for nearly ten minutes before she finally managed to calm him. There was so much pain behind each sob that Tracey's heart had broken a thousand times over, and all she wanted to do was to find out what had gone wrong and fix it straight away. She couldn't stand to see her friends upset, especially not Ron, who had already been through so much. I knew he'd blame himself, but just look at him… What the fuck happened while I was gone? I can barely recognize him.

Ignoring her stares, Ron continued washing his face with cold water, while she leaned against the wall next to him. They had both decided to wash up before letting the others back in, mostly to save themselves the embarrassment of being seen covered in tears and snot.

"There, I think that'll do," Ron suddenly said, giving his sickly reflection a nod of approval. "What do you think?"

"Oh, yes, you're the picture of 'okay'," Tracey sniggered, moving over to the sink. "When was the… last time you slept… Ron?" Okay, my throat is starting to kill me. I need some more Numbing Balm, I think.

"I'll sleep when I'm dead," Ron simply smiled, there was a calmness in his voice that genuinely disturbed her a little. "You've got some snot in your hair, by the way. Yeah, just back there. You see it?" EW!

"Ugh… You could've used your handkerchief… instead of my hair…" Tracey complained, deciding to have a shower before bed. I'll need help, though… Damn, that's a bit embarrassing, even if mum says otherwise.

"Sorry," Ron smiled at her lovingly. "But that's what you get for making me cry. You all know I'm an ugly crier." Speaking of which…

"Are you feeling… better?" Tracey asked, feeling her shoulders relax as she washed her face.

"I am," Ron replied, still smiling. "Thank you, Trace. For everything."

"All in a day's work…" Tracey smirked, feeling a slight blush upon her cheek because of his kind smile. "You keep smiling at me like that… and you'll make Daphne jealous…" Don't think I didn't notice her feeling you up before she left. 'I'm glad you came, Ron'. Ha! She can't keep her hands off him! It's nice to see that some things never change.

His smile wavered at that, but then, he simply straightened his back and caught her eyes in the reflection. "She and I are no longer together." Huh? What was that?

"You two broke up?" Tracey turned to face him, shocked and genuinely disappointed. "Why? You two were perfect-…"

"I'm dying, and I won't put her through that," Ron said, once again sounding too calm for her liking. "Nearly losing you, Trace… It almost killed her. I can't do that to her again." That makes no fucking sense at all! What?! She won't mourn you if you're not dating?! What sort of psychotic logic is that?!

"That's stupid, Ron," Tracey couldn't help but frown a little. "She'll still feel the same pain-"

"Who would you mourn for more if they were to pass away? Blaise, or, Theo?" Ron simply asked, and her tongue turned to lead. Oh… "It's different when you're with someone, Trace, and Daphne and I… We were perfect, which is why it had to end. Do you understand?" Why does he have to sound so grown up about it?! And he knows about my feelings for Theo?! Damn him for knowing everything all the time!

"No, and I don't want to," Tracey clicked her tongue, being stubborn. Why didn't she tell me? She's been here all day… They all have! What else are they hiding from me? Where the hell is Millie? "Ron, why isn't… Millie here with us?"

"Her parents were selling Werewolves into slavery, and I found out about it," Ron told her, making her jaw drop. SLAVERY?! What the actual fuck?! Is he serious?! "I told her about my findings, and I reckon she must've confronted them. Now, I don't know much about them, but I know they love her dearly, so I doubt she's hurt. They're most likely keeping her close to them, and as far away from me as possible." Jesus fucking Christ… How is he so calm about this?!

"They… didn't say a damn thing…" Tracey muttered in disbelief, feeling pissed with her friends now. "They've been talking about nonsense… this whole time… I don't care about Pansy and Longbottom being an item… when shit like this is happening… What the fuck, Ron?"

"You just woke up, and they've been waiting a long time to be happy again," Ron told her, further breaking her heart. "I'm sorry they didn't tell you, but that was an act of kindness. Please, see it as just that." All right, I can sort of understand… But since when is Ron so bloody honest, though?

"Ron, are you sure you're feeling… Ngh… Feeling like yourself?" Tracey asked slowly, ignoring the growing pain. You're scaring me a little…

"Why? Because I told the truth outright for a change?" Ron smiled knowingly, making her go a little wide-eyed. Stop reading my mind!

"I didn't mean-" Tracey started, but stopped when he suddenly poked her side. "Ah! That tickled! Ron, I'm being… serious-"

"Just wait a couple of days, all right?" Ron requested, his voice soft and comforting. "You'll get all your answers, I promise, but for now, just be happy alongside them. You standing here in front of me, Trace… That's a miracle. A proper miracle." Ron then gave her one of his 'golden smiles', and for a brief moment, he looked like was in first year again, full of life and always up to mischief. "Be happy, please." Damn, why did he have to smile like that?

"…Okay, Ron…" she couldn't refuse him, not even if she wanted to.

"Brilliant. Now, wash your face, please," Ron laughed. "You're giving Medusa a run for her money." Wow… Wow!

"You prat… You were almost sweet just then…"

"I know," Ron grinned, making her lips twitch upwards uncontrollably. Don't give him the satisfaction. Don't do it! "C'moooon. Give us a smile, you know you want to."

"Shut up," Tracey narrowed her eyes, before breaking out into a massive grin herself. Oh, I can't stay mad at you! "Just a couple… of days, okay? Then, I'm asking questions… and I want answers."

"Thank you," Ron said appreciatively, before his eyes travelled to her overgrown hair again. "Oh, and you've got more snot back there." No! Ew, get it off!

---

The Champion's POV

Tuesday 23rd March, 1994 (St. Mungo's – Night)

The girls giggled as Fawkes ate bits of 'pizza' from Tracey's palm, bringing a soft smile to the Champion's lips. His friends were absolutely taken with the Phoenix, even Draco had mustered up the courage to stroke Fawkes' fine feathers. He's certainly enjoying the attention by the looks of it, though his eyes keep lingering on me, and I don't know why. Does he want to leave? Well, it is getting late, and… And We have work to do. Work that will help save millions of lives down the road.

The Champion shifted about in his seat silently, unable to quieten the ever-loudening voice in the back of his mind. Why was he still here? As content as he was watching his friends laugh and play silly games again, there was no denying that he was extremely out of place in such a pleasant setting. They were all happily discussing such pointless things, from music tastes to fashion and everything in-between, while his mind had already returned to the battlefront.

And then, there was the guilt… The constant weight of it was beginning to crush him, and although Tracey didn't blame him at all for her injury, he knew he would never stop blaming himself. The guilt would never leave him, nor did he want it to. Take it as a lesson, boyo. Take it as a lesson, and don't ever let it happen again. That's all you can do for now. Be strong like Tracey, and honour her sacrifice for your cause. She doesn't know it, but she's saved this whole Universe-…

A sudden knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts, and when he looked to the door, he saw Mary and Sebastian enter the room. Fuck… The moment his eyes fell on Sebastian Greengrass, the Champion felt what little joy he had managed to scrounge up drain right out of him. Immediately, he came to a decision; it was time to be on his way.

It was time to return to the war.

"By all the Gods, it's really true," Mary beamed at Tracey, her eyes wet with tears of relief. "We're sorry for not coming sooner, my dear."

"It's good to see-" Tracey started excitedly, only to stop abruptly and clutch at her throat. "Ah…" Tracey?

"Trace? Should I get a Nurse?" Daphne asked worriedly, but Tracey simply shook her head with a smile.

"No, Daph, I'm okay…"

"Are you sure?" Theo asked right after, and Tracey nodded.

"Tracey, please," Susana gave her daughter a pleading look. "Try to whisper, at least, you said it was easier that way."

"I know… Sorry," Tracey apologized, before giving Mary and Sebastian a welcoming smile. "My Lord Greengrass, you're a… sight for sore eyes. Handsome as-"

"Tracey, don't be rude, he is still your elder," Mr. Davis gave her a warning look, while Sebastian just smiled and gave an appreciative nod in response. Trust me, Trace, he's only handsome on the outside. Inside, there's nothing but rot.

The Champion rose out of his seat before this reunion got any further, his limit for socialising had finally been reached. I'll visit her again when I'm back from the States-…

"Ron?" Blaise spoke from his right, looking up at him. "You all right?"

"I have to go," the Champion told them all bluntly, looking to Fawkes. "Come on, mate. You've been spoiled enough for one night. Draco, you as well."

"Go? You're leaving?!" Pansy whined, while the rest just stared at him in bewilderment. Yes, before I say, or, do something that ruins this blessed night.

"Go where?" Tracey asked, trying to read him but failing to do so.

"Home," the Champion replied, managing a half-smile for her sake. "I had a seizure recently, Trace-"

"Ron?!" his friends looked scandalized, even Draco looked annoyed with him for telling the truth.

"A seizure?" Tracey blinked, waiting for him to elaborate. Actually, thinking about it, a seizure would've hurt less compared to what really happened.

"It wasn't serious, but my parents are waiting for me," the Champion said, using the lie created by the American Aurors as his excuse to leave. "Is that all right? I'll visit you again soon, I promise."

"Oh, of course," Tracey smiled in understanding, even if she failed to hide the anxiety behind her eyes. "Come soon, okay?"

"As soon as Fate allows," the Champion promised, causing even more confusion. "Let's go, Draco-"

"Mate, can I um… Can I steal you for a second before you go?" Blaise suddenly spoke up, his eyes darting towards Daphne for some reason. Ugh… So close… But sure, I suppose I can spare five minutes. This could be important.

The Champion gestured Blaise to lead the way, just as Fawkes flew up and perched himself on the Champion's shoulder. Blaise wasted no time in heading out, and after giving Tracey a parting nod, the Champion followed after him. As he passed by the Greengrasses, he didn't fail to notice Mary's sorry eyes following him every step of the way. He told her that I'm onto him, then. I hope she slapped him for trying to manipulate me like that, for lying right to my face and doing it so well.

Using his Occlumency, the Champion managed to cast any and all thoughts of his former mentor out of his mind, deciding not to let the man poison him further.

"So, Blaise? What is it?" the Champion asked once they were both out in the hallway.

"Wait for it," Blaise replied, and the Champion blinked. Wait for what?

"What are we waiting for, exactly?" the Champion asked, looking around.

"Just wait," Blaise said. "Any second now."

The door opened behind them once again, and when the Champion turned around, he saw Daphne, Pansy, Theo, Tori, and Draco step out respectively. What is this? What do they want from me, now?

"Blaise, don't," Daphne said warningly once the door was shut, further confusing the Champion with her sharp tone. "We discussed this already-"

"No, we didn't discuss anything," Blaise countered, sounding aloof once again. "You just decided that you get to choose what Ron needs, or, doesn't need to know." Since when?

"Please, don't fight today," Pansy begged, stepping between Blaise and Daphne. "Ron, can you tell them to just stop it?" I can't be bothered. Go deal with your own problems, I have far too many of my own.

The Champion drew in a deep breath, deciding to be on his way. Shouldn't have given him that five minutes, old boy. You walked into this one, and now, it's time to walk out.

"He just had a seizure, Blaise," Daphne frowned deeply. "What's the matter with you?! Is now really the time to put your burdens on his shoulders?! We've all already agreed to help you, so why do you have to bring this to him?!" Help him? With what? Okay, maybe this is important after all.

"I'm with Blaise here," Theo spoke up, much to Daphne's chagrin. "Sorry, Daph, but this is a little out of our depth. We need him, and he's bound to find out eventually." Find out what? Can someone please just tell me what's going on?!

"But just look at him, Theo!" Daphne exclaimed, pointing to the Champion's face. Bit rude, but fair enough. "He's clearly never been sicker than he is now! Can't it wait until he's feeling stronger?!"

"Your life isn't at stake, so you don't get a say in this," Blaise shut her down. Life at stake?! Is he in trouble with his mother?!

Suddenly, the Champion was very, very interested in what Blaise had to say, but more than that, he wanted to know why Daphne would hide something so important from him. It's always something with this lot! I swear, they've taken years off of my life in the past few months!

"Start talking," the Champion ordered Blaise, his patience now dead and buried. "What's happened?"

Blaise took a step back upon hearing his bitter and cruel tone, as did the others. If I have to ask again, I swear to the Gods… Talk!

"I broke away from my mother, Ron," Blaise answered, straightening his shoulders as he did so. What…? You did? "You were always right, mate. No amount of gold is worth ignoring her true nature. I… I just wish I saw that before Lord De Luca. Maybe if I had, I could've… I don't know. Maybe I could've warned him sooner." This is… This is absolutely brilliant! You finally did it! No half-measures, at long last! Why would anyone hide this from me?! This is great news!

"When did this happen?" the Champion asked, his fire doused by this promising turn of events. Is this my lucky day, or, something? What is going on?

"At the start of the Break," Blaise replied, looking more confident now that the Champion's tone had softened. "I'm no longer a Zabini, even left my Gringotts Pouch behind and sold off my signet ring. I'm just Blaise now, I suppose, but I'm going to be my own man, just like you are." You. Fucking. God! I could kiss you right now!

The Champion smiled genuinely once again, feeling relief and pride in equal measure. "Good on you, Blaise, she was poison. I know this wasn't easy for you, but you've shown real strength by rejecting her and all she offers. You've done the right thing, and I'm proud of you."

"I… Thanks, Ron…" Blaise looked properly bashful for once, which only made the Champion laugh as he patted his mate's arm. "That um… That means a lot coming from you." Ha! Is he blushing?!

"Aw!" Pansy cooed, now beaming at them. "You two are so cute right now!"

Blaise gave her a bored look, while Tori and Theo sniggered at him. Daphne, however, although no longer frowning, still looked disappointed with Blaise. Now, to address the issue of people hiding shit from me…

The Champion turned to face Daphne, his smile vanishing in a split-second. "So… You decide what I know and what I don't know, now, eh?"

The jolly mood was immediately smothered by the Champion's sudden coldness, but Daphne stood her ground. "I didn't want you to stress about someone like her. You're sick, Ron, and by the looks of it, you're not managing it well. Clementine Zabini is not the sort of person you just walk away from, and I figured that we could help Blaise instead-"

"Tell me, what would stress me more? Butting heads with Clementine Zabini? Or, losing Blaise because you decided that I didn't need to be involved because I'm 'sick'? Because I'm a damn cripple?" the Champion asked, making her avert her gaze a little.

"I never said that, Ron…" she muttered to the floor. You might as well have! The truth is that I could lose half my fucking brain, and I'd still be more useful to him than all of you bumbling idiots put together!

"You know I hate it when others decide that they know what's best for me, but you went ahead and did it anyway?" the Champion frowned deeply. "This will never happen again. If anyone wants to come to me for help, then they have every right to do so. You don't get to decide for them, or, me. Got it?" We nearly lost Tracey, and now, you want to put Blaise on the chopping block? This sort of shite is what stresses me out! People being stupid! You realize that even the Ministry can't pin this woman down, right? What chance do you lot have against her? None!

"…Yeah, I got it…" Daphne said coldly, her eyes on the brink of tears as she stormed off towards Tracey's room. "…Go on, stress yourself into an early grave like I know you want to, see if I care…"

"Daphne!" both Pansy and Tori looked appalled, but the Champion easily shrugged off her words. I do want that, so I can stop dealing with idiots like you. Fuck this, why am I getting wound up over her? Like father like fucking daughter, they can both sod off. I have more important things to focus on than her latest tantrum.

"Blaise, whatever you need, I'm here," the Champion looked back to him, and despite how awkward he looked, Blaise managed a grateful smile. "And don't forget, you own shares in The Quibbler. What's mine is yours, brother. We'll face whatever comes next together, I promise." And thank you for making this day even brighter. I really needed it.

"Thanks, mate," Blaise looked a lot more reassured, before shooting Theo a quick glance. "And there's actually a couple more things I think you should know…" Really?

"Go on."

"Wait, mind if I tell him?" Theo sighed out, looking guilty. "It was my fault, and I think I should be the one to tell him." Fault? Ah, of course… Can't get good news without someone shitting the bed… Classic.

"What did you do?" the Champion asked, his brow creased.

"I… I ran my mouth to an Auror, and it got us into a bit of trouble…" Theo admitted, making the Champion's blood turn cold. Aurors? Oh, no…

"Which Auror?" the Champion asked calmly, not giving away anything.

"Um… Two of them, actually… An older fellow named Robards, and a young witch named Roberto," Theo answered, and the Champion relaxed a little. British Aurors, then, thank fuck…

"What the hell did you say to them, Theo?" the Champion frowned, making Theo's throat close up as a result. "And why exactly are you running your mouth to Aurors? Explain that to me!"

"Roberto wouldn't let us in to see Trace, and Theo threatened to have her sacked," Pansy stepped in, shooting Theo a disapproving frown. "But they threatened us, Ron! They were completely out of line! Robards even put this weird, metal pipe-looking thing under Daphne's chin when she jumped between him and Theo!" WHAT?! They threatened her with a weapon?! Why?! She's thirteen?! And what metal pipe-looking thing?! Hold on… Oh, shit… Since when do British Aurors use metal batons? First me, now the British Aurors… What are the Americans up to? I need to get this information to the Headmaster as soon as possible. Something big is happening-…

The door suddenly swung open again, but this time, it was Sebastian Greengrass who came storming out. "Ronald, a word in private? Now." Let me guess, you're about to lecture me on upsetting Daphne? Merlin, this whole family is out to drive me mental, isn't it?

"Father? Are you angry?" Tori asked, looking between the Champion and her father worriedly.

"Not now, Astoria, go join your mother and sister inside," Sebastian ordered, making everyone but the Champion shrink. "Ronald, let's go somewhere more private-"

"No," the Champion refused, not even bothering to look in his direction, focusing only on Theo. "Next time you decide to do something this stupid, Theo, pack your shit and leave right after. There won't be a place for you anywhere near me after that." Moronic little fuck… Always starts a fight then hides behind one of us! This is unbelievable! Bloody coward is even willing to hide behind a skirt!

"…Right…" Theo stared down at the ground, his voice barely audible.

"What is this?" Sebastian asked, sounding even more annoyed now. "Astoria, what is going on out here?"

"Theo was rude to an Auror, and it got us into trouble," Tori replied immediately, which earned Theo an ice-cold look from Sebastian as well. You see this? This is the sort of shit I have to deal with on a daily basis!

"Really, boy? Are you daft?" Sebastian demanded. "What happened after?"

"They threatened to hurt Daphne, father!" Tori confessed, and the temperature just dropped. "They threatened all of us!" Well, Robards is fucking dead, that's for sure. Bloody hell, what a mess…

"What…? They threatened you? With violence?" Sebastian asked icily, and even the Champion felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Here we fucking go…

"S-Sir, it was m-my fault-" Theo started shakily.

"Get out of my sight," Sebastian cut him off, looking murderous. "Get out of my sight right now if you know what's good for you. You ever put my daughters in harm's way again, and your father won't find enough of you to bury, boy. Leave, now!" Yeah, fuck all of this, I'm going home. This isn't my problem, it's Theo who needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.

Theo hurried away without missing a beat, rushing back into Tracey's room and sealing the door shut behind him, while the Champion just shook his head. What a bunch of fools… Whatever. All I care about is that Tracey is alive and strong, and Blaise has finally seen sense. That's what I'm going to focus on.

"Come on, Draco, I'll take you home," the Champion said, noticing that the blonde had all but vanished in the background.

"Not before we speak," Sebastian stopped him, grabbing him by the arm. "Enough is enough, we are having this conversation whether you like it, or, not!"

The Champion felt his temper flare at being manhandled, and his fists clenched so hard that his knuckles began to ache. Cutis Terra! The Champion and Fawkes both looked to Sebastian, it was time to give this bastard exactly what he deserved. I should've broken your teeth in America! Ripped out that silver tongue of yours before it could whisper any more lies!

"What's going on between you two?" Tori suddenly spoke up, sounding distressed. Tori's here… "Ron? Father? Are you two fighting?"

The Champion looked to her, and when he saw how upset she already looked, his fists began to relax. Calm down, old boy… Just calm down. She doesn't deserve to see your rage, nor does she deserve to see her father beaten like a dog in front of her. Don't cross that line, it will jeopardize a lot more than your relationships with Mary, Daphne, and Tori.

"Let go of me," the Champion looked back to Sebastian, murder dancing behind his eyes. "I don't enjoy being touched, even when I give permission, and I don't recall giving you shit."

Sebastian let go of his arm after a few silent moments, before drawing in a calming breath. "Ron… I just want to talk. I want to fix what I broke before it's too late."

"What's going on?" Tori demanded, frowning at them both. "Why are you two fighting on such a good day? I'm telling mother!" Both Sebastian and the Champion looked to Tori, neither of them even remotely amused by her bossy attitude. Do you want me to fucking slap you, is that it? "I… I'll be quiet… Sorry…" Yeah, that's what I thought.

"Please, Ron," Sebastian looked back to him. "Five minutes, that's all I'm asking for. If you can't even give me that, then you're not the man I thought you were."

"And what sort of man is that, exactly?" the Champion had to ask.

"A good one," Sebastian replied, surprising the Champion a little. "One of the very few good ones. You've given so many people a chance, so give me one as well."

The Champion stared into the man's eyes, and then, his icy gaze drifted towards Tori. She looked scared by what she was witnessing, there was no other word for her expression, and in that moment, perhaps because of all the miracles happening around him today, the Champion conceded. You know what? I too have a few things I need him to hear. I want him to know exactly what he broke.

"You get two," the Champion said coldly. "All of you, get back inside. I want privacy."

"Ron, are you sure?" Blaise asked, stepping closer to his side.

"It's not me that you should be worried about," the Champion said simply, keeping his eyes on Sebastian.

One by one, they all shifted back into the room, making sure to put on happy smiles for Tracey's sake. Once the two of them were alone, the Champion gestured Sebastian to start. Let's hear it, then.

"Not here-"

"Here," the Champion cut him off. "You're losing my interest already."

"Fine… Fine," Sebastian sighed out. "I was scared, and in my fear, I crossed the line-"

"You used my beliefs against me, you mean," the Champion clarified, making the man avert his gaze. "Why? What did I do to you that made you so afraid? Have I hurt your family? No. Have I hurt you? No-"

"You have his eyes, Ron…" Sebastian answered, making the Champion's blood freeze. No… Don't you fucking say that to me! I'm nothing like-! "I wish I never asked you to remove your mask in front of me… I thought I could handle it, but I'm ashamed to admit that I couldn't… I'm sorry, son, but you terrify me… I never know when you're going to give into your rage, and even now, I don't know your endgame with this alliance we've built together. I've never been more uncertain about my family's future than I am now, never. Ever since I realized who you really are, I've felt like a puppet, and you're the one pulling the strings. That's only ever happened to me once before, and the devil who put me through that hell stares back at me every time I peer into your eyes…" Sebastian then drew in a sharp breath. "I'm so sorry for what I did, but I did it because I know you want to destroy Pureblood Society, and that includes my-"

"No," the Champion stopped him at that. "I don't want that at all." Don't make me sound like some angry child knocking everything over in his path. I have friends who are Pureblood, and I'd give my life for them within a heartbeat. You think I'd ever go after Lady Longbottom? Or, the Fawleys? Never, because they're nothing like you.

"You don't… want that…?"

"I go after those who prey upon the weak," the Champion told him. "Whether they are Pureblood, Halfblood, Muggleborn, or, even not human. I don't care about where you're from, I only care about what you do. If I witness injustice, then I will act without hesitation. That's just who I am! I couldn't stop myself even if I wanted to! You were afraid because, deep down, you already know the kind of man you are. The kind I hunt. Don't put your weak character on my shoulders, all right? You asked me to open myself up to you, and then, you proved to me exactly why I need to stay hidden within the shadows." The Champion's jaw clenched, but he forced himself to finish regardless. "…You hurt me…"

Sebastian swallowed thickly at that, looking ashamed.

"And even now, I don't think you realize how much your little lie meant to me…" the Champion went on, despite every voice in his head telling him to walk away. "I'm no fool… I knew that you'd killed innocents before, but that was because of the Dark Lord, right? He forced you into it, right? So, when you were showing me that ledger of yours, and I'm sure that this was all a part of your plan; I sat there thinking to myself 'That's my mentor right there. He might've been forced into villainy by a madman, but here he is… Helping… Being kind to those less fortunate than him… Despite what the whole world says about him, he's a good man, and now, I have proof!'" The Champion then shook his head at his own naivety, more disappointed with himself than Sebastian now. "You said everything I wanted to hear, and you made me feel so proud of you… So proud to be your apprentice, and no one else's…"

"Ron, I'm sorry… I didn't realize-"

"I'm so tired of people twisting the few good things left in my miserable, short life against me…" the Champion aged a decade, looking away wearily. "I'm just so tired…" The Champion then took a step back, he was done with this conversation. "I won't tell anyone about what you did, but not for your sake. I'll keep your disgusting secret because I don't want people spitting on Mary, Daph, and Tori for the rest of their lives because of your crimes."

"…Will you ever forgive me?" Sebastian asked, and the Champion couldn't bring himself to return the man's gaze out of spite.

"No, because there is no forgiveness left in my heart…" the Champion spoke his mind. "I'm already spitting in the face of everything I stand for by letting you walk away unscathed, so don't ask me for more. Just know that if you ever hurt a child again, human or otherwise, then not even the Gods will be able to save you from my wrath." We will come for you in darkness of night, and those you hold closest to your heart will watch you burn before their very eyes. That is a Champion's promise.

"…I understand…" Sebastian pinched away the tears in his eyes, before giving the Champion a remorseful smile. "Please, don't be angry with my girls over my-"

"If you are referring to Daphne's sour mood, that's got nothing to do with what you did," the Champion stopped him. "She needed to understand that she can't make my decisions for me, not when…" he stopped, not wanting to breach Blaise's privacy by discussing his business. "Never mind. If Mary is worried, you can assure her that I still plan to be a part of her life, for as long as I can keep this rotting body of mine moving." The Champion then looked back at Sebastian, unable to hide his contempt. "They deserve better than you."

"…I know…"

"Then, take your own lessons into account, and be better," the Champion commanded, and Fawkes shrieked in agreement. "Now, send Draco out here, and don't you dare threaten Theo again. He's an idiot, but he's my idiot. And don't go after the Aurors either, let me handle it. The Headmaster needs to hear of this, you will not make matters worse by having an Auror 'vanished'."

"I know that man, he and I go back… And he threatened to hurt my daughters, not Dumbledore's-"

"I know, and believe me, I'm just as pissed off as you are," the Champion sneered at the thought of Robards looming over a terrified Daphne. "And yet, you and I both know that this country needs every Auror it has, and then some. So, keep your vengeance on a short leash, at least for the time being." Sebastian gave a reluctant nod. "When I get back from the States, I'll sort these cunts out myself. Son of a fucking bitch… Threatening her like that…" Calm down. Remain in control. Use your head, not your heart. The Champion drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes and utilizing his Occlumency. "Send Draco out. I need to get him home."

"…Of course…" Sebastian said faintly, slowly turned to leave. "Goodbye, Ron… Be safe, please…"

The Champion silently watched his former mentor head back inside; why did it still hurt so much to let him go? Even after his treachery? Don't betray your principles because of your emotions, don't give in to mercy just because he looks and sounds sorry. Be strong. Be like Tracey, and forge ahead into the uncertain with your head raised high. And for Merlin's sake, don't ever open up to anyone ever again. It'll only end the same way.

The door clicked open again, and both Mr. and Mrs. Davis stepped out. Oh, no… Here comes the unwarranted gratitude.

"We'll send Draco out in a mom-" Mrs. Davis started, but stopped all of a sudden, staring at his face. What? "Ronald, is everything all right? Why are you crying?" I'm not crying…

The Champion pinched his eyes, a dark frown now in place.

"What do you two want?" the Champion asked, his voice coming out much harsher than he intended. Don't be a prick to them, they didn't do anything to you. "Bloody hell… I'm sorry, that was rude… It's just been an emotional day, but that's no excuse. What can I do for you, Mr. and Mrs. Davis? Is everything all right with Trace?"

The pair of them exchanged looks, and while Mrs. Davis adorned an even more sympathetic expression, Mr. Davis frowned deeply.

"What did he do?" Mr. Davis asked, shooting a look back at the door. "Sebastian, I mean. What's he done? I know he's a prickly man, Ronald, but I'm sure whatever he said-"

"I'm in a hurry, Sir," the Champion cut in, feeling his heart twist once more.

"Right… You're a busy man, of course," Mr. Davis nodded, losing the frown and smiling a little. "We wanted to thank you for what you've done for our Tracey-"

"Sir, please don't," the Champion stopped them before they could truly get started. "I don't deserve your gratitude… Octavia of Ilvermorny does. She gave your daughter a second chance at life, not me."

"But you convinced her, didn't you? You offered to help her if she helped you, and that's what made the difference," Mrs. Davis pointed out, reaching out and caressing his cheek. Don't touch me. Why do people keep touching me? "Thank you, Ronald. You'll always have a place at our table, and in our lives. Tracey couldn't have asked for a more caring and loving friend than you." Her smile then widened even more so. "And now, we finally get it."

"…Get what…?" the Champion asked slowly, feeling uncomfortable.

"Why she adores you so much… Why they all adore you so much," she replied tenderly, there was such affection behind her eyes that the Champion felt his stomach turn out of shame. Stop looking at me like that. You've no idea who I am… What I am. If you did, you would run off screaming.

"…Is there anything else…?" the Champion averted his gaze.

"Are you sure everything is all right?" Mr. Davis asked, his brow furrowed. "Ronald, I want you to know that you can always come to us if you need anything. I know we've never really spoken before all this, but… we'd help you." Mr. Davis then straightened his back, looking even more serious. "And before we go any further, I want to say that I'm sorry for doubting you, and for… For blaming you… It was never your fault, I see that-"

"It was my fault, and you don't need to apologize to me," the Champion took a step back, while they just stared at him. "Send Draco out, please. I have work to do, and until he's home, I can't get started. You're wasting both your breaths and my time."

"…I see…" Mrs. Davis blinked, her hurt unmissable. Just stay away from me. You're better off that way, trust me. "Very well, then… Thank you once again, Ronald… James, let's go back inside before Tracey starts to wonder, shall we? Oh, and Ronald…" What now? "I made your parents a promise that I'd find a Muggle Healer for you, Doctors they're called-"

"Don't bother," the Champion stopped her. "What's a Muggle going to do for me that a witch or wizard can't?" And the last thing I need is are a bunch of Muggles looking into my head. If my mad counterpart is right, it could mean having to answer too many questions I'd rather not hear in the first place.

"I understand your reservations," Mr. Davis started, taken aback. "But believe me, I've seen the wonders that Muggles are now capable of with my own eyes. They could very well have an answer for you." I already have an answer for me. It's called death.

"No, thanks," the Champion refused. "Don't need their help. Don't want their help. Now, please, go get Draco."

Mr. and Mrs. Davis looked utterly baffled by the Champion's decision, but the longer they stared into his empty, lifeless eyes, the more they came to realize that he had already given up on himself. Their pitying looks, however, did very little to dissuade the Champion, who was now becoming impatient.

"Tracey wanted me to remind you to visit soon…" Mrs. Davis eventually murmured, while her husband continued to stare at the Champion. "James, let's go…"

"…Right…" Mr. Davis nodded dumbly, looking rather disturbed.

The Champion watched them both leave, and after a few seconds, Draco stepped out and closed the door behind him. There was a scowl on his face, which piqued the Champion's curiosity.

"What's wrong?" the Champion asked. Did the others give you shit after I was gone?

"She kissed me again," Draco hissed, wiping at his cheek with his sleeve."Gross… And bloody Nott was glaring murder at me like it was my idea, the prick."

"You'll live," the Champion said, feeling amused by Tracey's antics, but not enough to even entertain the idea of a smile. "Still… I'm glad you chose to stay, Draco. It meant a lot to her, so I thank you."

Draco blinked, and then he began shifting in his spot. And it obviously meant a lot to you too, even if you're too stubborn to admit it. And despite the last couple of conversations, I don't think I've felt this… weightless and free… in a long time. First Tracey, and then Blaise… I need to thank the Headmaster for insisting I visit. He was right all along.

"Well… I didn't really have anything else to do…" Draco said offhandedly, looking away. "Can you take me back, now?" Playing hard to get, are we?

"As you command, my Lord," the Champion teased, offering an annoyed Draco his arm. "Fawkes, try to not land us on a coffee table this time, won't you?"

Fawkes shrieked, and after Draco took the Champion's arm, the Phoenix exploded in a torrent of brilliantly bright flames, bringing them back to the Tonks' house.

"Bloody hell, that's so wicked," Draco didn't jump away this time, instead looking rather impressed for a change. "I didn't feel a thing, it's nothing like Apparition." Thank the Gods for that, otherwise, I'd be on the floor by now.

"Draco?! Are you back?!" Andromeda Tonks rushed into the room, letting out a sigh of relief when she saw her nephew. "Merlin, you were gone so long! I was about to send Ted to go looking for you!"

"Is it him?!" came the man's voice from upstairs. "Or, is it Dora?!"

"It's him, love, he's back!" Andromeda yelled to the ceiling, which seemed to annoy Draco quite a bit.

"Sorry for not bringing him back sooner," the Champion apologized for going back on his word. "But our date was going too well-"

"Shut up, Weasley," Draco tore away from him, and the Champion shot him a wink, which only infuriated him further. Pissing him off will never get old. "…Freak…" You've no idea, Dracy-poo.

Andromeda looked between the pair, and then she beamed. "Looks like you ended up enjoying yourself after all, Draco. I'm so glad."

"It was all right…" Draco said nonchalantly, already heading for the stairs. Uh-huh. All right, he says. He loved it. "I'm going to my room. I'm tired."

"Aren't you going to thank your friend, first?" Andromeda asked, looking a bit disappointed with him. Ha! Does she even know him?!

"No," Draco replied rudely, disappearing upstairs.

"Merlin, he's got no manners…" Andromeda sighed out, shooting the Champion a sorry look. "I'm sorry about him-"

"No need, I'm used to it," the Champion shrugged.

"His nasty attitude?"

"That too, but I was referring to how ungrateful he can be." He needs to show this woman some respect. She's taken him into her home and given him a second chance.

"Oh… I see…"

"Just give him time, he's slow to warm up to people," the Champion spoke from experience. "Goodnight, Mrs. Tonks, and please, give your lovely daughter my best regards-"

"Wait!" Andromeda called out, taking a step forward. "You should join us for dinner sometime, Ronald. I'd like to get to know you, I think. And you could teach me a thing or two about getting Draco to listen." The Champion cocked an eyebrow. "You're good with him, that's all, and I'm honestly a bit lost here. Nymphadora was a very different child, let's just say." You mean she isn't a cunt.

"You want him to listen to you?" the Champion asked, and she nodded. "Then, the next time he gives you attitude, beat him. People like Draco only learn when they're afraid of consequences."

"…What…?" Andromeda's smile died on her face. You wanted advice, here's some for free.

"Fawkes, let's be on our way, shall we? Take me to my room if you know how to get there," the Champion said, and after a fiery explosion, the Champion found himself standing at the centre of his childhood bedroom. "Ah, home sweet home…"

Fawkes shrieked in response, eyeing the orange walls with admiration. Oh, you like? Good. Time to get to work, at long last! The Champion silently moved over to his study table, opening the drawer and pulling out Salazar's chest. Fawkes eyed it critically, while the Champion carefully placed it atop the table. I need a better hiding spot for this. And I need to place protections on this room when I come back.

"Open," the Champion hissed, and after a loud clank, the two silver serpents slid to the bottom of the chest, unsealing it.

The Champion quickly recovered Salazar's notes and hid them within his suit's inner pocket, his eyes lingering on Salazar's broken, Cursed dagger. Hm… You know what? I'm taking this to Gornuk when I get the time. Wands aren't enough, I want to be a walking armoury!

Closing the chest, the Champion waited for the silver serpents to seal it before he hid it away again. Now, let's pop downstairs and check up on my family. Let them know that I'm not dead just yet.

Deciding not to disturb his family with fiery explosions, the Champion made his way out of the room and began heading downstairs. I'll read through the notes tonight, though from what I remember, they don't have the answers I seek. Still, it's worth a shot. Only a fool would leave such a stone unturned-…

The sound of a door clicking broke his train of thought, and the Champion spotted Ginny coming out of the upstairs bathroom, wiping at her eyes and sniffling. Ginny? Why's she crying? Oh, wait… It's probably because of my seizure, right? Bloody Aurors… Now, they've crossed the fucking line, haven't they?

"Gin?" the Champion called, freezing her in place.

Slowly, she turned on her heel, her puffy eyes widening at the sight of him. "R-Ronnie? Is… Is that really you?" Gods, I hate that fucking name so much… Whatever, I can't expect them to start calling me by my proper title now, can I? It'd be awkward.

"Why are you crying?" the Champion asked in response, despite knowing the answer already.

Ginny just stared at him for a few moments in utter disbelief, and then, she stumbled forward before she outright rushed him. Um… What? Before he could ask her to slow down, her arms were wrapped around his back, squeezing him so hard that he wheezed. My back… Why, you little monster? Forget the Death-Eaters, I'm going to get done in by my own sister! Get off of me!

"Ronnie! It's really you!" Ginny sobbed, while the Champion just stood there awkwardly. "You're okay! The clock was wrong! I knew it had to be!" The clock? Is she referring to Mum's clock?

"Easy, Ginny," the Champion said, patting her back a couple of times. "I'm fine, for the most part. You can stop now." You're getting snot and tears on my clothes, and I've had enough of that for one day, thank you.

"I-I was so scared…" Ginny coughed out, tearing at his heartstrings. "I thought I'd never see you again!" Really? I'm sorry to hear that, Gin, but I promise, I'm not finished yet.

"Well, here I am," the Champion said, starting to feel genuinely uncomfortable because of her bear-hug. "Ginny, stop it now, you're hurting my back."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Ginny jumped away, and when he saw her tear-soaked face, his chest tightened for a moment. Damn it… I'm sorry for putting you all through this. "I… I didn't mean-"

"Here, little sister," the Champion whispered, pulling out his handkerchief and wiping her tears away. "Don't cry for me, please? You know I can't stand to see you upset, don't you?"

"…I know…" Ginny sniffled, taking his free hand into hers. "Ron, how are you here?"

"Oh, Fawkes brought me," the Champion answered, and Ginny finally noticed the Phoenix on his shoulder.

"Merlin's Beard…" Ginny mumbled, her jaw dropping open.

"You two have met before," the Champion reminded her. "He helped rescue you from the Chamber of Secrets, though I'm sure you don't remember that."

"Oh… Um, thanks…" Ginny said, managing a shaky smile for the Phoenix, who hummed softly in response. "Wow… So beautiful…" He is magnificent, isn't he?

"I know, it's the suit," the Champion smirked, trying to brighten her mood.

"I was talking about him, Ron," Ginny said dully, sniffling as the Champion feigned hurt. "Why is he with you, though, and not Dumbledore?"

"We're mates," the Champion didn't answer the question. "Why were you crying upstairs?"

"Oh… Well, Lysander threw up on Pandora, so she's in my bathroom-" Ginny started, making Ron's eyes come alive.

"Lysander is here?!" Ron looked down the hallway, before he quickly reigned his emotions in. Stay in control, boyo… What's the matter with you? "Ahem, sorry. Right. Shall we go downstairs, then?" Don't be so fucking weak. Stay in control of your senses. Being emotional has always been your weakness, and it is past time you conquered it.

Ginny blinked at his odd behaviour, but said nothing as she gave a slow nod. Together, hand-in-hand, they began making their way downstairs, and the Champion quickly noticed that she was now staring at his face.

"I know…" the Champion shot her a sorry smile. "Not my best, eh?"

"Are you getting sicker?" Ginny asked, barely managing to get her voice out.

"Yes," the Champion didn't lie, he saw no need to anymore. "It is what it is, but I'm resolved to make the most of the time I have left on this earth." There's too much to be done, but bit by bit, I'll see my work complete. "And that includes time with you." When I can spare it, of course.

"Okay," Ginny wiped at her eyes again, sounding even more upset. Damn, there's nothing I can say that will make this hurt less.

"I'm sorry, Gin-Gin," the Champion apologized, and he meant it. "You don't deserve to feel this sort of heartbreak. None of you do."

"N-Not your fault…" Ginny sniffled, her grip tightening on his hand. "Are you going to stay? Please, say yes." No.

The Champion stopped them both, facing Ginny. "I have business in America-"

"No, don't go, please!" Ginny begged, immediately looking inconsolable. "You just got back-!"

"There are people who are depending on me back there," the Champion told her, stopping her short. "You've read the papers detailing my trial, haven't you?" Ginny nodded slowly. "Many others have too, and now, they too have reached out to me."

"Who…?" Ginny hiccupped.

"I can't tell you because they asked me to keep their affairs private, but know that I wouldn't leave if it weren't important," the Champion replied, he had to be very careful with his words here. "However, I can tell you this much… The Headmaster is with me." Ginny's eyes widened a bit. "We're both working very hard right now to save a lot of lives, but you can't tell anyone. Do you understand?"

"Ron, are you in danger?" Ginny asked, a mixture of awe and dread now evident in her voice. "Oh, that's why Fawkes is with you-!"

"Shhh," the Champion hushed, and she sealed her mouth with her spare hand.

"Sorry…" she muttered from behind her hand, and then she leaned in closer in order to whisper. "Is this like that orphanage you two built together? For those Squib children who were living in Knockturn Alley?"

"Much, much bigger," the Champion replied, giving her hand a squeeze. "I don't want you to think that I'm leaving for no reason, okay? This is important, Gin, because a lot of lives are at stake, and they need your big brother to come through for them." Is this working? I think it is.

"Right…" Ginny just stared at him, as if she couldn't recognize him for a moment. "Woah, Ron, you're like a hero from the stories mum used to read us when we were little…" No, I'm the monster those heroes hunted down and destroyed. "Do you remember? Andros the Invincible? Godric Gryffindor? Mungo Bonham? You're just like them now!" I'm not fit to kiss their feet, let alone pretend to be like them. But, still, thank you, Gin. Thank you for seeing me that way.

"C'mon, let's go," the Champion began moving again, tugging at her hand. "And remember, not a word to anyone."

"It'll be our secret," Ginny laughed weakly, wiping at her eyes again before resting her head against his arm. "I'm so happy you're here, Ronnie." Stop using that name, for Merlin's sake… It's an insult.

"What's this about the clock, then?" the Champion asked as they neared the kitchen. "What had you so upset, exactly?"

"Your hand is stuck on mortal peril," Ginny told him, glancing up at his face again. "We've all been so worried that I can't even describe it." Mortal peril, huh? I'm not surprised, my mother is a damn powerful witch. At least, when it comes to household Charms, that is. The clock must know that Fate's shenanigans have left me shattered…

"How're mum and dad?" the Champion asked.

"Mum's been hysterical all day, but she's tired herself out," Ginny replied. "And dad only just got home, but… He was drunk, and mum's livid with him…" Damn it, am I really pushing dad towards the bottle? This is not a good sign, and I need to sort this out before it becomes a habit. Drunkards are a lot less likely to survive a war. He can go back to drinking after my work's complete, not before.

"Guess who I found upstairs?!" Ginny announced them the moment they entered the kitchen.

The kitchen was currently being occupied the adults, which included his parents, Xeno, Pandora, Sirius, and Remus. From the looks of it, they'd been having a few drinks, whereas Arthur had been drinking only water, no doubt to sober up.

"Ronnie?!" Molly was the first to rush over, stopping just in front of him when she realized Fawkes was perched on her son's shoulder. "You again?!"

Fawkes shrieked in response, straightening up and flexing his wings. I never realized that he was such a show off. But then again, if I looked like that and was immortal to boot, I'd be just as flamboyant.

"Hello, mum," the Champion put on a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I just wanted to drop in and let you know that I'm-"

"Did I hear someone say Ronnie?" Charlie barrelled into the kitchen, followed by their other siblings. "You beautiful bastard! Come here! You give your big brother a hug right now!"

"I'd rather none of you lay a finger on me," the Champion refused, stopping them all with one look. "I don't like being touched or hugged; you should all know that by now." He quickly looked back to Ginny. "Unless it's you, of course." Don't need her throwing a fit right now.

Ginny's eyes brightened, and she squeezed his hand tightly before sticking her tongue out at the others. Just a couple more minutes, then I'm letting go. Her palms are sweaty.

"Ah, never thought I'd miss that shitty personality of his," Charlie sighed out, looking somewhat vexed.

"Charlie," Bill and Kirsten warned, while the Champion simply ignored the disapproval.

"What? I said I missed it, didn't I?" Charlie pointed out. "Really, I'm just happy he's up and about again. Honest!"

"How are you, Ron?" Molly whispered, holding his face between her hands as everyone gathered around. Again with the fucking touching… It's like my words go into one ear, and then come out the other… "Merlin, look at him, Arthur! He's so pale!"

"Mum, I'm all right," the Champion tried, feeling as though he needed to crawl out of his skin from sheer discomfort. Just breathe, it's okay… It's just her. It's your mother. She has no reason to hurt you… Just breathe-…

"Can I have your other hand, Ron?" came Luna's airy voice, and the Champion pulled back from his mother before looking to his right. "Please?"

She was just standing there, casually smiling up at him in her usual airy manner. Fuck… The Champion reluctantly offered her his gloved hand, and she wrapped her fingers around his index finger. Huh?

"Is that okay?" Luna hummed, was she being considerate? Yeah… Yeah, I don't mind that too much. Thank you, Luna, you're sweet. "You definitely look like you're in mortal peril-"

"Luna," Pandora scolded lightly, rocking a sleeping Lysander in her arms. "Don't be so rude. Remember what we discussed about speaking your mind-"

"It's all right," the Champion assured her, his eyes lingering on Lysander's tiny face. There's my adorable reason to win the war. "And as for looking like I'm in mortal peril… Well, what do you expect? Only have a couple of good years left in me. Maybe even less." They really do need to start making their peace with it, it'll hurt less down the line. It's not fair, but it is what it is.

"Son, don't say such terrible things like they're nothing," Arthur pleaded, his relief somewhat dampened by his son's blunt nature. "How are you feeling? Tell us yourself. Dumbledore dropped by before-"

"He and Professor Snape took good care of me," the Champion told them. "Don't worry, dad, I'm okay. You know me, don't you? I don't go down that easy."

"No, you don't," Remus spoke up, smiling widely. "It's good to see you again, Ron."

"Can't say the same for you, handsome," the Champion smirked, keeping up old appearances just so he could leave faster. "Merlin, you're one hard man to look at, Remus."

Laughter rang out all around him, with the twins even sneaking in a couple of pats on the back when they saw their chance. The Champion took the time to finally look towards a certain bespectacled wizard, noticing that Harry was already staring back at him. Instantly, the Champion felt anxiety and fear fill his very being, but he found the strength to keep a straight face. I have to be wrong… He can't lose his life to the Dark Lord, not when he's already lost so much. Where is the justice in that?

"Hello, Harry," the Champion greeted, his pale eyes darting towards the legendary scar. Fuck! Why did it hurt at the same time as my scar? What's connecting us, Harry? Is it truly the Dark Lord? Why can we both speak to snakes?

"Hey there, Ron," Harry greeted back, his keen eyes studying both Fawkes and the Champion. "I'm glad you're okay… You just missed Neville, by the way. He was really worried about you, but I'll let him know that you're all right."

"Were you two really so worried about me?" the Champion teased, all the while wondering how Sirius and Remus would react if Harry did turn out to be a Horcrux. Shit, shit, shit!

"Of course! Why wouldn't we be?!" Harry blurted out, no doubt due to his previous mistakes and guilt, causing Sirius to snigger and ruffle his wild hair.

"He's pulling your leg, Harry," Sirius said. "Kid's a prick, through and through You have to remember that whenever you talk to him."

"Tsk," Molly clicked her tongue, causing Sirius to pull a face and offer his hands up in surrender. "I'll beat you with a wooden spoon if you keep cussing near the children, Sirius! I'm sick of it!"

"That… sounds like a pretty good time to me, honestly," Sirius adorned the smuggest grin the Champion had ever seen, which quickly earned him a smack on the back of the head from Remus. "…Sorry, Molly… I'll be good…"

More laughter echoed around the Champion, but he remained silent, even feeling somewhat annoyed by the fact that they'd cornered him. Feels like I can't breathe… Okay, I've shown them my face, just as I promised. Time to get going-

"Ron, come sit down," Arthur invited, but the Champion shook his head adamantly.

"I only dropped by to let you know that I'm back on my feet," the Champion told them, and almost immediately, the laughter died down.

"You're leaving…?" Percy asked, now looking distraught. "Ronnie, just stay for a bit, plea-"

"I have work to do… People who need my help," the Champion stopped him, pulling his hands free in the process. "I can't sit around, Perce; I've already spent hours doing just that."

"Tracey…" Pandora realized, and the Champion gave a nod. "How was she?" How's your husband? He's being awfully quiet there in the back.

"Safe and strong, and still every bit as full of humour as I remember her," the Champion replied, some life returning to his eyes. "Now, stand back. Give Fawkes some room so he can work-"

"Bloody hell, what's the hurry?" Fred demanded, frowning. "Can't you see that we've been worried sick for you?! Why are you in such a hurry to run off again?!" You worrying sounds like your problem, not mine. I have my own worries, and I promise you, they far eclipse yours.

"Don't yell at your brother, Fred Weasley," Molly warned, before looking back to the Champion with motherly concern. "Are you sure you can't stay?" She's giving me a choice? Just like that?

"What? Mum, you can't be serious," Fred was shocked, as were the rest of them.

"You heard your brother, didn't you?" Arthur cleared his throat, exchanging a look with his wife. "People need his help, and we Weasleys always help whenever we can." Yes… Exactly… What's going on here? "You go on, son. Help them, and then come home to us. We'll be waiting." Did I fall into a different Universe without realizing it?

"Thanks, dad," the Champion was touched by their understanding. "And I will come back, I promise."

"We know," Molly said, hugging her husband's side and smiling proudly. "Thank you for dropping by, I don't think I'd have been able to sleep otherwise." This day… What the fuck is happening, honestly…? I'm actually a bit scared right now…

"Well, goodnight then, family mine," the Champion said, shooting Ginny a quick wink and pinching Luna's cheek. "Until we meet again-"

"Wait, can you two go outside, first?" Molly stopped them, making the Champion blink. "I just cleaned these floors today, and I won't tolerate any scorch marks. Not a single one, Ronald Weasley!"

Fawkes shrieked in protest, but one narrowed eyed glare from the Weasley matriarch stopped any backtalk on the spot. Don't bother, mate. It took me years to get her to listen to me.

"Fine…" the Champion agreed dully.

"Wait, since you have Fawkes now, can I keep Helios?!" Ginny asked as he began to head out, stopping him.

"Pardon?" the Champion turned around, a stern look on his face. He's not a toy that I can just hand over, Ginny. That's not how it works. He's a part of me, as I'm a part of him. And I don't have Fawkes… No one can tame a Phoenix; they do whatever pleases them.

"Helios… It's just that I really like him, and he really likes me…" Ginny squeaked, intimidated by his hollow eyes. Ugh… It's been a good day, so I'll compromise a little…

"You can look after him during the Break," the Champion said, and Ginny's face nearly split open in excitement. "After that, he goes back into my service." He's a soldier, not a pet. Treat him with respect, or, I'll know.

"Service?" Sirius chuckled, while the rest looked at him as though he were mad. "Ease up there, Auror. Don't make me regret buying you the poor thing."

"Thank you, thank you!" Ginny exclaimed. "Luna and I'll spend lots of time with him, we promise!" He'll be fat by the time I come back, won't he? Fuck… Be disciplined without my presence, Helios. I'm trusting you here.

"Don't forget to unlock your window at night, he enjoys hunting in the dark, when his prey can't see him coming," the Champion turned to leave, ignoring the disturbed looks on his sibling's faces. We have that in common, don't we, old friend? Look out for my family until I get back.

Stepping out into the brisk night, the Champion drew in a deep breath, smelling rain in the air. He heard the others follow him out, no doubt to see Fawkes in action, and the Champion decided to entertain them a little.

"Fawkes, let's give 'em a show," the Champion whispered before turning to face them all. "Until next time."

"Bye, Ron!" Luna and Ginny waved him off, while his brothers still looked terribly worried for him.

The Phoenix let out a deafening screech, which made them all, save for Harry, cover their ears in panic, spreading his wings and summoning a tornado of fire around them both. The last things the Champion saw before he vanished in the flames were the slack-jawed expressions of his siblings, and Harry's startingly green eyes. I'll find a way, mate. You won't lose anything else to that monster. Not while I draw breath.

---

Amelia Bones' POV

Tuesday 23rd March, 1994 (The Pond – Night)

"Mmm, dayum!" Harper wiped his mouth with his napkin, before falling back in his chair and patting his stomach. "That was some good shit!" Who elected this disgusting fool?!

"President Harper, I think you've wasted enough of my time tonight," Amelia finished her glass of red wine, she hadn't ordered any food. "Can we discuss business, now?"

"Of course, sorry," Harper smiled innocently, sitting back up. "It's just that the last time I discussed business during a meal, I ended up with explosive diarrhea." Good Lord… "So, never again! But since I've been wined and dined, I reckon we can get started. Enough foreplay, as the kids say." Who's kids?!

"You said you were here to save Magical Britain?" Amelia asked calmly, diplomatic as always. "What did you have in-?"

"Do you feel bad?" Harper cut in, jumping up in his chair and looking back out of the window. He's a child… He's six-foot child… By the Gods, he really is mad, isn't he? This isn't an act; he can't even keep himself still. "For those people out there? I mean, we're in here enjoying a delicious as fuck meal, but they're just out there… In the cold…"

"Yes, of course I feel bad…" Amelia frowned to herself, she couldn't even sleep anymore for more than a couple of hours.

"Oh, good, that makes one of us… I was worried for a second there that my plan wouldn't work," Harper looked genuinely relieved, making her blink. "What? They're not American, so I couldn't give a rat's hairy ass even if I wanted to. It would be unpatriotic."

"Then, what are you doing here?" Amelia asked, drawing in a deep breath.

"I likes ya, and I wants ya," Harper grinned, making her feel sick to her stomach. Not in a million years, you lunatic. You need to be locked away as far as I'm concerned. "So, I'll help you save your country, and then we can elope-"

"You are being extremely unprofessional, President Harper," Amelia finally reached her limit. "And I'm done here-!"

"That kid's about to choke," Harper suddenly said, his head darting in the direction of a rather overweight child not too far from them.

"What-?"

"He's eating too fast, and he's only doing three chews a bite," Harper spoke at lightning fast speed, and Amelia looked in the boy's direction. Three bites-? "He hasn't touched his glass of water even once, and he's eating a bone-dry steak too boot. And no, he's not smashing it down because it's delicious, he's doing this because he's anxious. Just look at his parents. They're too busying arguing to notice that their son is eating his stress away. They're going to ruin him if they don't change their ways." What the…?

Amelia observed the parents, and Harper was right, they were both just going at it. Suddenly, the boy stopped, dropping his fork and adorning a pained expression. No!

Amelia shot out of her seat, but Harper was even faster, rushing to the boy and smacking him on the back with a massive grin on his face. Bloody hell! An unchewed piece of meat shot out of the young boy's mouth, landing at the centre of the table. How did he…? What in the fuck…?

"Watch ya damn kid!" Harper turned his grin towards the parents, both of whom were now gaping at him. "You keep this up, and fatso here will end up dying an antisocial virgin! Is that what you want?! HUH?! ANSWER ME!"

Amelia made her way over to them, grabbing Harper by the arm and yanking him away from the disturbed family. "Apologies, he's from… overseas…"

"Merlin, that was the bloody Minister…" the wife muttered in disbelief, and Amelia felt her face burn from embarrassment.

"Why'd you do that?" Harper asked her as she dragged him towards the checkout. "I was helping them-"

"You were being a menace," Amelia growled, which only seemed to entertain him. "How did you do that? How did you know? Are you a Seer?"

"A Seer?" Harper snorted in her face. "Hell no, I'm just smarter than you, lady. As a matter of fact…" Harper stopped moving, stopping her as well. "I'm the smartest man alive! That's why they elected me, coz I know you've been wondering! You see, my dear Amelia Bones, I spot problems before they even rear their ugly heads, and I fix them! That's me! The fixer! Oh, that's a nice title! THE FIXER-!"

"Stop it," Amelia hissed, people were now staring at them. "Just stop! Why are you so hyperactive?!"

"…I ate a lot of sugar today…" Harper admitted, his eyes darting about in a guilty manner. "But it was my secretary's fault! It was his sister's birthday, and he had this vanilla-"

"I don't care," Amelia grit out, before drawing in a calming breath. "We're disturbing everyone's night, so we're leaving."

"Can you pay for me? I left my pouch in America," Harper smiled the most innocent smile, and all Amelia could do was go along with his madness. "Look at us! Being progressive!" Kill me, Gods. Kill me now. "Can we get ice-cream?!"

Amelia closed her eyes, feeling lightheaded. I'm so tired… And he's done my head in…

"Let's just go, Harper…" Amelia made her way over to Rudolph, paying for their meals before leading the way out.

The night air washed over, but it did little to refresh her mind. Her vacant eyes moved about the street, reading the faces of her broken countrymen, and Amelia felt her heart twist painfully. Damn… That hurts… Amelia pressed the side of her chest, shifting about uncomfortably. That really bloody hurts…

"You should go see a Healer, Amelia," Harper told her, his voice oddly mature all of a sudden. "Do it tomorrow. Promise me-"

"I don't need-"

"Yes, you really do," Harper whispered, and she slowly turned to face him. "You saw me in there, so when I tell you that you need a Healer, you should listen."

Amelia just stared at him, feeling a bit scared. "Okay… I'll go…"

"Yay!" Harper smiled widely, giving her a painful pat on the arm. OW! That hurt! "Can't have you keeling over now, can I?! As far as I know, dating the dead is considered… distasteful." He's such a nuisance!

"We are not dating, and you need to start behaving like the leader of a country," Amelia said, she couldn't even bring herself to scold him anymore, that's how tired she felt. "Goodnight, Harper-"

"I'm going to give you five million Galleons," Harper grinned manically, freezing her in place. What did he just-? "Then, I'm going to send some of my Aurors through in order to snatch up all those criminals you've got on the loose. Once that's done, they'll stay behind because there'll be riots soon-"

"Riots-?"

"Oh yes, riots! Riots caused by them," Harper looked to the people in the camps, and Amelia followed his gaze. "They're going to get uppity, and you'll need strong hands to teach them a lesson-"

"These are my people, Harper," Amelia warned. "I will not let your Aurors bully them, not even for all the gold in the world!" I've heard all about your army of thugs, and they have no place in this country!

"They're hungry, cold, and they're so frightened…" Harper went on as if he hadn't even heard her, there was something akin to sadness behind his eyes all of a sudden. "This should've never happened, but now that it has, we must see it through, even if we have to be a little cruel. I think you already know that, Amelia, it's why you accepted the invitation of a madman in the first place. I'm your last hope, because at the rate this country's going, the Pure will inevitably reseize power."

"The Pure…" Amelia repeated, frowning at the thought of Yaxley and his brood. "Not while I draw breath."

"No, not while you draw breath," he looked back to her, admiration written all over his face. "Which is why they'll kill you, first."

Amelia smiled a mirthless smile, she knew that they'd come for her eventually, but she wasn't going to go down without a fight. "Why are you doing this, Harper? What do you get by handing me five million Galleons?"

"I already told you, I'm a fixer," Harper grinned, annoying her even more with his vague answers. "And I can see a war coming! Another Great War!"

The blood drained from Amelia's face, and when she caught his eyes, she was dead certain that he knew about the Dark Lord's return. No, that's impossible. It's one of our most well-kept secrets. There's no way the information was leaked to him-

"Why so frightened, Amelia?" Harper whispered ominously, losing his mirth and taking a step forward, looming over her. "Do you have something you're not telling the rest of us?"

Amelia stared up at him, working quickly to regain her wits. This… This is a very dangerous man… I can't afford to ever underestimate him again. "You're the smartest man alive, so you tell me. Is there a war coming?"

Harper's lips twitched upwards; he was clearly struggling against breaking out in another one of his ridiculous grins. "Yep, I've decided! I'm going to devote any and all free time I have into cracking your heart of stone! You and me, we're gonna be the ultimate power couple, baby!"

"For the last time-"

"I'll give you some time to mull my offer over," Harper stopped her, placing his index finger on her lips. Um… What the-? "Don't take too long, though! The sharks are already circling you, my dearest! And time…" he slowly stepped back, raising his arms to his side. "Well, time's like sand… If you're not careful, it just slips right through your fingers. I'll be expecting your letter, gorgeous girl. Don't keep me waiting too long."

Amelia's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as Harper's entire body began to turn to sand, including his clothes, before breaking apart completely and letting the wind carry it away over Diagon Alley. By the fucking Gods… What sort of Magic was that…? She stood there for what felt like several minutes before she regained her senses, what had she gotten herself into by taking this bloody job?

---

The Champion's POV

Wednesday 24th March, 1994 (New York – Morning)

"Morning," the Champion entered the shoddy living room, spotting Artyom, Fawkes, the Headmaster, and Professor Snape already having breakfast.

As it had turned out, the Headmaster's search had been stopped by Artyom, who had brought them to an unused safehouse belonging to the Death's Hand. It was a rundown shithole, with cracked walls and barely functioning facilities, but it was impossible to discover thanks to the Fidelius Charm, which was all the Champion really cared for.

He'd found nothing in Salazar's notes which eluded to human's being transformed into Horcruxes, but the fact that a Basilisk had been the first Horcrux greatly troubled the Champion. If one living being could act as a Horcrux, then why not all living beings? Still, I need more concrete proof. Working under the wrong information gets people killed, and I'm not dying till that mad fuck does.

"Good morning, Ronald," Dumbledore greeted him with a smile. "You slept in. I must admit, I had thought you incapable of such a thing."

"I had good dreams," the Champion smiled a little, thinking of Tracey and Blaise.

"Tardiness has no place in wars, boy," Snape frowned at him. "Learn to wake up on time."

"Leg hurting again?" the Champion asked, reaching down and grabbing an apple from the table.

Snape grumbled under his breath, while the Headmaster and the Champion exchanged quick glances. Can you fucking convince this man to drink some Pain-Relief Potion, please? Before he murders us in our sleep?

"What are everyone's plan today?" the Champion asked, looking to the fireplace. I'm late… Oh, well, gives me a chance to make an entrance.

"I'm going to start looking into these Aurors, and why they're suddenly so interested in our country," Dumbledore replied, feeding Fawkes a grape. "Want to join me, old friend?"

Fawkes shrieked, flapping his wings and nuzzling his head against the Headmaster's hand.

"The mountain of muscle and I will start looking through those," Snape said, shooting the three trunks Artyom had brought over from the Aurors a scowl. "Tell me, Russian, can you read English?" Artyom said nothing, not even giving Snape a second of his time. "I'll take that as a no…"

"He can read, he just doesn't like bullies very much," the Champion answered for his silent guardian.

Artyom gave Snape a dark look, both of them staring at each other with contempt. Once again, the Headmaster and the Champion exchanged looks, silently agreeing to come back as soon as possible.

"What about you, Ronald? Still plan to make an entrance?" Dumbledore asked him. "Asmodeus will not appreciate it, I can already tell you as much."

"Well, good thing I don't give two fucks," the Champion smirked. "I'm going there to meet with Octavia, so hopefully, I can avoid Harkin altogether." I highly doubt that'll happen, though.

"Very well, then," Dumbledore stood up, and Fawkes flew onto his shoulder. "Be careful, my boy, and should you need me, call for Fawkes. I will come without hesitation."

"Thank you, I appreciate that," the Champion moved towards broken fireplace, eyeing it critically. "Artyom, this works, right? I won't end up going missing, will I?"

"No," Artyom replied.

"Wait… No to it working, or, no to me ending up missing?" the Champion asked, shooting a look back.

"Yes," Artyom replied. What a cunt…

"All right, then," the Champion decided to risk it, grabbing a handful of floo powder. "Ilvermorny Castle!"

As soon as he tossed the powder into the low flames, they roared to life, turning green. Wasting no time, the Champion stepped through the flames, and much to his delight, he found himself standing within a granite greeting room. The Grey Castle… I'm in! Ready or not, here I come!

The Champion looked around at his surroundings, noticing that there were no people with him in the elongated hallway, only wooden statues of various wizards and witches. Ilvermorny's brightest? I wonder… As he eyed the statues whilst walking past them, one statue in particular caught his attention, making him stop. Asmodeus… These must be former Headmasters and Headmistresses, then.

"Nice fingers," the Champion whispered under his breath, noticing that none of the statues were missing their fingers, not even Harkin's.

"HALT!" a voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts, and the Champion calmly turned around, smiling at the witch who was heading right for him. "The Tournaments have already begun, and we were clear that no one was to prowl the castle unattended." Why? You got something to hide?

"Sorry, madam, but I'm not playing this time around," the Champion put on his best smile. "My name is…" he paused, his eye twitching "…Ronald Weasley. Perhaps you've heard of me?"

"Ronald Weasley?" the greying witch fixed up her glasses, eyeing him up and down in his slim-fit burgundy suit. "Oh… OH! Sorry, but I'm as blind as a bat!" What a strange accent… Where's she from? "The whole school's been talkin' about you ever since that little visit of yours! It really is you!"

"It's really me," the Champion 'chuckled', bowing respectfully. "Good morning to you, madam. May I please have your name? Seems only fair now that you know mine."

The old witch laughed heartily, before putting her hand forward for a shake. "Name's Ava Jones, I'm the librarian! I was just doin' some mornin' readin', and I got lost in my work. Happens all the time!" I know that feeling well.

"Where are you from, Miss. Jones?" the Champion asked politely, taking her hand and then turning it in order to kiss her knuckles. "Your accent is like music to my ears."

"Aren't you just the perfect gentleman?" Ava laughed some more. "I'm from Texas! You know where that is, sweetie?" Texas? Wasn't the brisket I had yesterday from Texas? Well, if the quality of that brisket is anything to go by, then Texas must be a land of milk and honey.

"No, I'm sorry to say I don't," the Champion replied. "Perhaps you can educate me as you escort me to the Tournaments? I'm afraid I'm quite lost."

"Oh, of course, sweetie," Ava gestured him down the hallway, and they both set off. "Your accent's not too shabby itself, if I do say so myself. Are all British children so well-mannered?"

"Oh, most definitely not," the Champion smiled at her. "I'm just trying very hard to impress you."

She laughed again, seemingly quite taken with him already.

"Consider me impressed, then!" Ava smiled back, leading him towards a grey, spiralling staircase. "And as for Texas, you can find us at the bottom of the United States! It's the second largest state, so you really can't miss us! Just follow the smell of good cookin', and you'll get there!"

"Perhaps I'll get a chance to visit it," the Champion said, despite having no intention of doing so. "This is a beautiful castle, Miss. Jones-"

"Oh, just call me Ava, honey, everybody does," Ava pinched his cheek, making his temper flare.

"Very well, Ava…" the Champion kept smiling. "What can you tell me about this Castle, and the mountain upon which it rests?"

"You talk real funny, sweetie," Ava chuckled as they entered a large circular room. "Posh, is what I meant. No offence." I'm posh? Offence most definitely taken. Does she not know that it's not nice to call someone that?

"I'm from St. Otterly Catchpole, Devon," the Champion informed her. "I don't know about posh, but thank you. You are most kind." The Champion then looked around the circular room, his eyes fixating on the four massive wooden statues of the Ilvermorny Houses. "Brilliant… Is this the Entrance Hall?"

"How did you know that?" Ava blinked.

"We have Hourglasses full of different types of gems in ours, each representing one of the four Houses, and seeing as Ilvermorny was inspired from Hogwarts, I simply assumed," the Champion replied. It's nowhere near as beautiful, though. Everything's just grey here. Clearly, Isolt Sayre had no taste, and the grounds were designed by the Pukwudgies.

"Aren't you a clever cookie?" Ava laughed. "But yes, this is the Entrance Hall. First year students come here and stand there on that Gordian Knot. One of the statues then comes to life, and claims the student as theirs. Wanna try it?"

"Would it work?" the Champion asked, curious.

"No harm in tryin', is there?" Ava laughed, gesturing him to hop on.

"Will they read my mind?" the Champion asked first.

"Well, duh!" Ava laughed. What the fuck is 'duh'? "How else are they supposed to know your character?" Oh, she meant yes. Hmm. Time to put that mad fuck to the test.

The Champion silently moved to the Gordian Knot, facing the four statues with an arrogant smirk. C'mon then, boys. Let's see who's tougher. You, or, the loon in my head. The Champion suddenly felt a powerful jolt of pain run up his skull, but he was prepared. MORE! Do your worst!

"OI!" came his counterpart's voice, he had suddenly appeared besides the Champion. "What the fuck?! PISS OFF!"

All four statues violently cracked down the middle, the sound of splintering wood echoing throughout the room. HAHAHAHAHA! The Champion looked towards Ava, the calmest smile on his face as he watched her jaw drop open in horror and disbelief. Woopsie! Too weak! So much for the great Houses of Ilvermorny!

"Does this mean I'm above these four houses?" the Champion asked simply, while she just stood there. "Ava?"

"…This can't be…" she muttered, slowly looking back in his direction and taking a step back. "…Who are you?" Your saviour! Come to free you from the Curse of this Mountain!

"No one of consequence," the Champion continued to smile, waving his hand and undoing the damage with a Non-Verbal, Wandless Reparo. "Shall we move on?"

"…Um… Yeah…" she mumbled, still staring at him. Just look at the fear in those eyes. Lovely!

"Ava?"

"I… I forgot somethin'… Back at the l-library…" Ava stammered, taking another step back. Then, run along, why don't you? I think I'll be fine from here. "The Tournaments are just outside from here… On the grounds… I have to go…"

"Oh, thank you very much," the Champion gave a polite nod. "It was a pleasure meeting you."

She didn't even respond, as she was already rushing back up the stairs. Hahaha! That was fun! Once he was alone, the Champion let out a mad cackle, childishly laughing to himself.

"Fucking annoying statues…" Ravenclaw Ron sneered at them. "I should've set them ablaze!"

"Relax, we're not here to destroy this place," the Champion whispered, wiping a tear from his eye. "Now, do Us a solid, eh, and get into the bowels of this mountain. No failures this time, or, there will be consequences. You understand?"

"Yes, your majesty," Ravenclaw Ron bowed, a manic glint in his eyes. "Try to not get yourself killed while I'm away, won't you?" I doubt anyone here is that powerful.

"I'll do my best," the Champion turned to leave, shooting the wooden statues one last look before he exited castle.

Immediately, the Champion noticed two large marble statues flanking the sides of the front door. Isolt Sayre and James Steward. Beautiful craftsmanship-…

"You should leave, boy," came a raspy voice from Isolt's statue, and the Champion turned to see an ancient, wrinkled Pukwudgie cleaning the statue's feet by hand.

"Why? Am I in danger here?" the Champion asked, smiling.

"Yes," the old Pukwudgie growled, shooting him a quick glance. "Ilvermorny has no place for blackhearts who feed on the fear of others." It was a joke, old man. How about you relax, eh? Wait… He didn't hear me talking to myself, did he? Oh, well, what's he going to say? He can't prove anything.

"Is that so, Pukwudgie?" the Champion lost his false smile. "And who's going to make me leave, exactly? You?"

"No… I'm far too old for such affairs," the Pukwudgie rasped, still cleaning Isolt's feet. "It is the mountain that will drive you away." Oh? He must know plenty if he's worked here his whole life. I should press him.

"The mountain, you say…" the Champion looked around the expansive grounds, spotting Ilvermorny's Quidditch Pitch a few hundred meters away. "Well, what if I told you I'm here to heal this foul place? What say you to that, Pukwudgie?" I bet he'll think I'm barmy, but it's worth a shot to see if he knows anything.

The Pukwudgie slowly rose up at that, his old knees cracking as he looked to the Champion with a haunted look about him. "What do you know of this mountain, boy?"

"I know something's wrong here," the Champion took a step forward, studying the old-timer. "And I think you know what I'm talking about."

The Pukwudgie looked up to Isolt's face, adorning a hopeless expression. "Leave, boy, if you value your life-"

"I don't," the Champion cut him off, making the Pukwudgie look back.

"Then, you're both cruel and stupid…" the Pukwudgie growled.

"Stupid, that's debatable," the Champion smirked. "And as for cruel… Well, to some, I can be. But to many others, I am hope."

"Are you hope for us, then?" the Pukwudgie asked, looking deep into the Champion's eyes.

"I want to be, but so far, I've done a piss-poor job," the Champion shrugged, and the old-timer smirked a little. "Help me help you, old man. What's wrong with this mountain?"

"I cannot tell you."

"Ah, more secrecy," the Champion felt his patience wane. "These Sages really love their secrets, don't they?"

"…You know of the Sages…?" the Pukwudgie was visibly taken aback. "How is this possible?" Yes! He knows them! Got you, you motherfuckers!

"Who do you think invited me here, my good man?" the Champion put on another smile, bowing deeply. "I am the Champion of Fate, guardian of all I see."

The Pukwudgie looked him over, and then, he looked back up at Isolt's face, thinking deeply. "Is this your will, then, my old friend? Is he the one to free us from this Curse?" Oh, yes! He definitely knows what's happening here! What luck!

"I might be, but you'll never know until you give me a chance to prove it," the Champion played along, wondering why the Pukwudgie was talking to Isolt's statue. "I've given you my true name, Pukwudgie, now give me yours."

The Pukwudgie turned to face the Champion, straightening his creaking back. "I am William, the caretaker of this statue."

The Champion offered William his gloved hand, grinning from ear to ear. "A pleasure, William. Now, let's chat, shall we? Just you and me, eh?"

William slowly took the Champion's hand in his, giving a reluctant nod. "Follow me, then, Champion of Fate. I will take you to the Lady of Ilvermorny." Octavia! Fuck you, Harkin, you can't keep Us out!

"Lead the way." Let's find out what's really going on here, at long last.

---

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Figured I'd update for Anzac Day, my own way of honoring the brave souls lost on this most terrible day. May we never forget!