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.

151. Chapter 151 - The Stage is Set

AUTHOR'S NOTES: My niece says waaaaahh, which I'm going to assume is baby talk for 'Hello!'.

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 a couple more Ron fics out that are on point! They're called 'There and Back Again' by Chuchi Otaku, and 'Cooking Like a Bachelor' by Avatar Vader. Please, go check 'em out! You won't regret it, spread the Ron love, people!

P.S: Starway Man is a chad! (I'm never removing this)

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Fate

Chapter 151 – The Stage is Set

Ronald Weasley's POV

Sunday 11th April, 1994 (The Burrow – Afternoon)

"You can't always control the behaviour of others, Ronald," Madam Pomfrey's voice echoed in his head as he passed through the fireplace. "The only person in this world whose behaviour is always under your control is sitting right in front of me. I need you to understand this, because if you don't, you will keep making the same mistakes. You will keep finding reasons to be disappointed with yourself and with those around you. Let others find their own way, just as you have. They may yet surprise you."

Ron drew in a deep breath and looked around the living room, it was entirely empty save for a scarf that was knitting itself atop his mother's favoured chair. I can only control my own behaviour. If others don't want to take the threat of Lord Voldemort seriously, then that's on them. All I can do is prepare myself enough to make a difference when the time comes to protect them.

He drew in another deep breath, already feeling anxious and desperate for a Calming Draught at the mere idea of not looking over the shoulders of those he loved most. The thought of them failing to change their ways, the thought of them crossing paths with a Death-Eater unprepared, sent a cold shiver up his spine. Madam Pomfrey's words held sense, yes, as he had already failed time and time again to change those around him, but those very words made him feel powerless as well. It was his duty to bring about change, to be Fate's Harbinger, and he had spent so long acting as such that he wasn't sure he could stop. I've been meddling in the affairs of others from the day I saved Pandora. It's who I have always been, but maybe that's part of the problem… I keep propping myself up for disappointment, because I keep thinking that people will listen and learn from my example, but they never do. This is why the Headmaster never enforces his views on others, because people need to believe that they figured out their own path by themselves. So, maybe, changing my ways will bring new perspective and better results? It can't hurt to try, right?

Ron made his way into the kitchen, promptly spotting his father and Charlie locked in a heated argument. They didn't even notice him, and so, he took the time to study them carefully. They'd both had three beers each, with a fourth in hand, and judging by Charlie's bone-white knuckles, he was quickly losing his patience with Arthur. What the fuck did I just walk into?

"You're breaking your mother's heart!" Arthur fumed, making Charlie glower down at the beer in his large hand. "Ron is offering you a golden ticket to the job of your dreams! And what do you do?! You refuse it out of pride! Kirsten accepted, didn't she?! Why can't you?!"

"He's not her little brother…" Charlie grumbled, before looking up with a dark expression. "Why do you always compare me to others? Both you and mum… You always do it! When I was in Hogwarts, it was Bill! When I left for Romania, it was every lad my age who chose to work in Britain! And now, it's Kirsten! Am I not good enough for you?! If so, then why am I even here?! You won't let me move out to Sirius' place! You won't let me get a part-time job in Diagon Alley! You won't even let Kirsten and me get our own apartment from the money we have saved up! Why does everything have to be done your way?!"

"If you want to work, Charlie, then come with me to the Ministry!" Arthur started, making Charlie go red-faced. "Why do you want to work as some bloody waiter?!" Is dad speaking on behalf of mum? This doesn't sound like him at all-…

"I don't want to work at the Ministry, dad!" Charlie snapped. "The only people in this house who want a desk job are you and Percy! Again, you're always trying to get us to follow you there! Me! The twins-!"

"They will not become street-hustlers," Arthur promised, drawing in a sharp breath. "I understand that they love their tricks and pranks, I'm even happy to encourage their antics from time to time, but when they grow up, they will work respectable jobs! I'm with your mother on this, Charlie, and don't you dare put any ideas in their heads!" Ah, so she is behind this. Why am I not surprised?

"They're brilliant, dad! Working behind a desk would bore them to death!" Charlie hissed, and Arthur shot him a warning look. "But you and mum don't understand that! Mum, especially! For someone who's never held a job in her life, she sure loves dictating where the rest of us should work!"

"Enough…" Arthur warned, clenching his jaw. "That's enough, Charlie. Don't you start disrespecting her as well. She gets enough of that from your brother, do you understand? Ron is sick in the head, so I can tolerate him acting out against us, but you're a grown man, and I expect you to act like one-!" Arthur stopped abruptly, turning his head in Ron's direction and going wide-eyed. Hello there. "Ronnie… W-When did you get back? How long have you been standing there?" Sick in the head, eh? Well, he's not wrong about that. I am a twisted little cunt, no arguing that. You know, I like it when he gets angry. He becomes more honest.

"Just now," Ron answered, looking between his brother and father. "Should I go upstairs and wait? You two look like you have some things to get off your chest."

Arthur and Charlie exchanged looks, before the muscled Weasley shot out of his chair and marched towards the stairs. "I'm moving out! I don't care about what mum has to say! I'm sick of living in this damn house!"

"Charlie, we're not done talking about this," Arthur stood up, his face red and blotchy. "Come back here, now!"

"No, we're done!" Charlie shouted as he stormed up the stairs, punching the wall so hard that the Burrow groaned. "I had a good thing going in Romania! And I threw it all away to come home! I should've just stayed there!" The only person stopping you from rebuilding that good thing is yourself, you fucking donkey-…

Ron drew in a deep breath, keeping his opinions to himself. He will figure it out, or, he will keep spiralling. Either way, it's not my job to hold his hand. Like dad just said, he's a grown man. He has to learn to act like one on his own. Still, I ought to find a way to help him along his path. He's still my brother, and a man should always improve his family's lot in life, even if they don't appreciate his efforts.

"Merlin's Beard…" Arthur sank in his chair, massaging his forehead. "I don't know what to do with you two, anymore… No matter how I approach you, we always end up at odds." Charlie just wants your respect, the same respect you've always shown Bill no matter what he does. As for me… Well, I'm starting to understand that we're very different people, and since we're so different, ending up at odds is simply inevitable.

"If you keep failing at something, then perhaps, you're the problem?" Ron suggested, and Arthur looked to him with a deep frown. "Just food for thought." A gift of insight from Madam Pomfrey, if you will.

"I'm the problem, he says…" Arthur shook his head, letting out a long sigh. "I've given you boys everything I could… Is it so wrong for a father to have a say in his son's life?" When the son is stronger and wiser than the father, yes.

"You can have a say, sure, but you can't control the behaviour of others," Ron drew in a deep breath, using his Occlumency to lock away his harsher thoughts on the subject. "I don't know about Charlie, but I'd say I've proven that I can handle myself just fine. In three years, I've achieved more than you have in a lifetime. If I had listened to you and mum, if I had let you hold me back as you tried to at every step, then I wouldn't have achieved even half as much. Just because you brought me into this world doesn't mean you get to decide how I live." Ron then looked to the stairs, wondering if Charlie was really going to move out. "It's the same with Charlie. He wants to find his own way, but you and mum won't let him. You're so afraid he'll hurt his future that you don't realize your fear is what's doing all the damage. Trust me, I've often found myself in your shoes in this regard, but now, I can sort of understand why it's wrong to think this way. Charlie-… No, people… People deserve the right to choose their own paths. They deserve the right to make their own mistakes. It's how they learn. It's how I learned." Ron then looked back to Arthur, who was now staring at him with a thoughtful expression. "If you don't let him leave the nest, then how is he going to learn to fly, dad? He was doing fine in Romania, wasn't he? Stop listening to mum about matters she doesn't understand-"

"Don't you start that, Ron-" Arthur began sharply, but stopped when Ron raised his gloved hand.

"I'm not saying this to 'disrespect' her," Ron said honestly, ignoring how annoyed he felt at being interrupted. "I'm saying it because ignorance always does more harm than good. She married young and became a housewife, and soon after, she started having children. How could she possibly understand what he needs right now? She's never once been in his shoes, but you have. Tell me, when you were Charlie's age, would you have looked down at paid work of any sort? When your adult life was just starting, did you really want to stay locked up in your parents' house?"

Arthur looked down at the beer in his hand, eventually shaking his head. "…No, I got out the first chance I had. We had very little, and I didn't want to burden them." Now, that! That I can respect!

"Don't you think Charlie feels the same way?" Ron asked, moving further into the kitchen. "Instead of getting in his way, why don't you help him move out? Why don't you pass on your wisdom to him? Show him the mistakes you made at his age so he doesn't make them as well?"

"Your mother will not be happy if I-"

"Are you the man of this house? Or, is she?" Ron simply asked, beginning to lose his patience. "Stop being so weak-willed and indecisive, you-" he stopped, drawing in another deep breath. Don't lose your temper so easily, old boy. Keep your focus on your breathing. "If she doesn't like it, then so be it. Charlie doesn't need coddling, dad, he needs to get out and live his life. Speaking of which… I need to do the same. Are you ready to go?" I'm done with this conversation. I don't want to fight with anyone in this house, anymore. I've given him my thoughts on the matter, he can do with them as he pleases.

Arthur thought about Ron's words for a few seconds, and then, he slowly rose out of his chair. "Let me wash up, son… I'll be down in a few minutes."

"Don't take too long," Ron turned around and left for the living room, already thinking of a way to help Charlie without being noticed by him. He's too proud to accept his little brother's help? Fine… I'll just have to make it look like I had nothing to do with another offer coming his way.

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Arthur Weasley's POV

Sunday 11th April, 1994 (Prosperity Farm – Afternoon)

Arthur followed Ron through Thaddeus' bountiful garden and towards the bright-red door. The old Werewolf's sizable cottage overlooked an ever-blossoming lavender field, beyond which was the lake that had become a favoured spot for picnics and midnight trysts. Ron knocked on the door enthusiastically, and after a few seconds, it swung open to reveal Thaddeus himself. The man was looking healthier than ever, supporting a pleasant tan and a smile that never ceased. His eyes lit up at the mere sight of Ron, his smile growing to a comical degree.

"Ronald, you're really here," Thaddeus beamed, quickly putting his hand forward. "Gods, you are a difficult man to get a hold of! It gladdens my heart to see you, again!"

"I like to stay busy," Ron grinned, shaking the man's hand. "Mind if we come in? My dear old dad tells me that you have something important to share with me." Dear old dad? Wow… At home, he rarely makes a sound, but when he's out and about, he can charm the skin off of a snake in seconds.

"Of course, of course!" Thaddeus moved aside, giving Arthur a respectful nod as he did so. "It's good to see you as well, my friend. Welcome! Come in, come in!"

Ron and Arthur made their way inside, quickly sniffing out the delicious aroma of fresh bread being baked in the kitchen. Thaddeus led them towards the living room, where they found Bjorn and Tabatha sitting across from each other. They appeared to be having a debate, but the moment they saw Ron, the two lovers shot up to their feet, seemingly forgetting all about their argument.

"This is him?" Tabatha looked Ron over, an uncharacteristic smile gracing her lips. All the times I've seen her around Thaddeus, not once has she smiled. It looks strange on her, as if she's trying to remember how it's done.

"Handsome lad!" Bjorn laughed, stepping forward and offering Ron his strong, calloused hand. "Been waiting too long to see you for myself! He's tall, Arthur! Good on you!"

"Ron, this is Bjorn, and his wife, Tabatha," Arthur introduced, while Ron shook Bjorn's hand. "They grew up under Thaddeus and are a part of his pack."

"It's a pleasure," Ron smiled, his eyes scanning the pair.

"Nice, strong grip," Bjorn grinned, shaking Ron's hand thoroughly. "I like that! You'd be a strong wolf, I can tell-!"

"Ahem," Tabatha cleared her throat, giving her husband a stern glare. "Don't say such things, you blithering idiot." Yes, please don't.

"What? I'm just pointing out the obvious," Bjorn chuckled, pulling back and gesturing them to take a seat on the sofa. "Can I get you two anything? Some tea? Or, maybe something stronger?"

Ron looked to Arthur instead of answering himself, still smiling, though his eyes were intensely focused. I know which one I'd prefer, but I don't think Ron will appreciate that.

"We'd love some tea," Arthur smiled gratefully, giving Bjorn a nod. "Thank you."

"Top drawer, Bjorn," Thaddeus reminded the muscular Werewolf, before taking a seat across from father and son. "Thank you for coming, Ronald. And thank you, Arthur, for passing along my message."

"Of course," Arthur responded, genuinely smiling at seeing how lively Thaddeus had become. This place has done him wonders. It's done them all wonders.

"This is a lovely home," Ron hummed, his unblinking eyes scanning the shelves filled with books and the simple chandelier above their heads. "It suits you, Sir. Tell me, did you plant the garden outside yourself?"

"I did," Thaddeus chuckled, shooting a quick glance at Tabatha. "I had help, though. Tabatha has a green thumb, even if she doesn't care to admit it."

"Please, I didn't do much," Tabatha waved a dismissive hand, her scarred features schooled once again. "The Elves are to thank for all our gardens. They just snap their fingers, and things begin to grow. Kind creatures, those Elves. I'm thankful to share this camp with them." Camp?

"So, everyone is getting along nicely?" Ron asked, there was genuine relief in his voice.

"Yes, almost as if someone planned for this all along," Thaddeus replied, keenly studying Ron's face, now. "Someone who understands Elf nature, and more importantly, our nature. Our needs. Someone who understands symbiosis."

Arthur looked to Ron, curious to see how his son would react, but for the life of him, he couldn't read the look on Ron's face. The young wizard gave away nothing, merely smiling at Thaddeus like some innocent boy.

"What's symbiosis?" Ron eventually asked, and Thaddeus chuckled again. "That's too big a word for me, Sir."

"What have I told you about calling me 'Sir'?" Thaddeus' smile widened, and Ron raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Force of habit," Ron shot Tabatha a wink, making her smirk. "And the mercenaries? They're not giving you lot any trouble, are they?"

"They keep to themselves," Tabatha spoke up, before losing her smirk. "For the most part."

"For the most part?" Ron repeated, looking to her. "What do you mean?"

"It's nothing serious…" Thaddeus gave Tabatha a meaningful look. "Nothing to worry about, Ronald."

"Let me be the judge of that, please," Ron said simply, not looking away from Tabatha. "Talk to me."

Tabatha looked between Thaddeus and Ron, and then, she shook her head. "It's nothing… Forget I brought it up, Mr. Weasley." Forget? Yeah, that'll never happen.

Something shifted behind Ron's eyes, promptly making Arthur nervous. "Very well, I won't interfere with your business." Really?! "You have every right to your privacy."

"Thank you," Thaddeus gave a grateful nod, while Arthur just stared at Ron. What's he up to, now? There is no way he lets this go. He never lets anything go.

"Tea is served!" Bjorn entered the room loudly, planting a tray on the coffee table. "Have at it while it's still hot!"

They each took a cup, bringing it to their lips and taking a sip. Merlin's Beard! This is awful! What did he do?! How do you fuck up making tea?! Arthur subtly looked to Thaddeus and Tabatha, both of whom were hiding their faces behind their cups. He then looked to Bjorn, who was beaming down at him and Ron. I'm guessing that he's never had good tea before. That-… That's actually really sad.

"Thank you," Ron placed his empty cup back on the tray, shooting Bjorn a grateful smile. He drank it all?! Without hesitation?!

Deciding to follow his son's lead, Arthur gulped the tea down, and somehow, managed to keep a straight face. "Thank you, Bjorn."

"Think nothing of it," Bjorn laughed heartily, taking a seat beside his wife. "Have you asked them yet?" Asked us what?

"No, I was waiting for you," Tabatha put her cup down, which was strangely still full. "Mr. Weasley, we have something to ask you, Bjorn and I. We're going to have a wedding." A wedding? "A proper wedding, I mean. We didn't think such a thing was possible for us, given our Curse and what we had to do to survive, but living here… It's changed things for us. For all of us. And Thaddeus…" she looked to the old Werewolf, only to see him smiling at her. "He says that we should accept happiness wherever we can find it. That we should live each day as if it were our last."

"We want you to be our guest of honour," Bjorn leaned forward, smiling ear to missing ear. "All of you, actually! Your father, your mother, your siblings! Are your grandparents still around? They can come too!" Mum and dad… Merlin, what I wouldn't give to see those two, again-…

"I humbly accept your invitation," Ron smiled back, answering before Arthur even had a chance to think it over. "We will be there, I promise." Hold on… Shouldn't we bring this up to Molly? And your brothers and sister? "My grandparents are no longer around, but the rest of us would be overjoyed to attend."

Arthur could do little but smile alongside Ron, somewhat bothered by his youngest son making such a decision on behalf of everyone without even consulting them. They'd accept, I'm sure, but that's not how things should be done. When even is this wedding? They haven't even mentioned that yet.

"Really?!" Bjorn grinned, whereas Tabatha smiled again. "Brilliant! Did you hear, my love?!"

"I heard," she laughed lightly, giving Ron a grateful nod. "We're still working out the date, but it'll be in July."

"Or, August," Bjorn swiftly added, and his wife 'playfully' slapped his knee. "…Probably July, though…"

"We were also hoping you could invite the other investors," Thaddeus chimed in. "Lord and Lady Fawley, Lord and Lady Greengrass, Lady Longbottom, and of course, Sirius as well. If you're too busy, then that's also fine-"

"I will speak with them," Ron promised, standing up suddenly. "Congratulations, you two. Let me know once you've settled on a date, eh? I'm already looking forward to it!"

"We will," Tabatha replied, whilst her husband shot up and shook Ron's hand once again. "Thank you for accepting, Mr. Weasley, it means a lot to us."

"I should be the one thanking you," Ron chuckled, before looking to Thaddeus. "Walk us out?"

"Certainly," Thaddeus rose out of his chair, as did Arthur.

The three of them made their way outside into the garden, and with a flick of his hand, Ron sealed the door shut behind Thaddeus. "I have to admit, I wasn't expecting a wedding invitation. I was worried that something had gone terribly wrong for you to seek me out personally."

"That says quite a lot about you, Ronald," Thaddeus smiled, and Ron smiled back.

"I expect the worst, which just makes moments like these all the more special," Ron chuckled, offering Thaddeus his gloved hand. "Congratulations, again. I'm happy for you."

Thaddeus took Ron's hand in both of his, staring at the young wizard with both love and admiration. "I can't ever thank you enough-"

"You don't have to thank me at all," Ron assured the man, a heartfelt smile on his face. "Just take care of each other, eh? That's all I want from you."

"We will," Thaddeus promised, before looking to Arthur. "You've raised a fine young man, Arthur. You should be proud."

Arthur blinked; no longer sure he could take any credit for Ron being who he was. "…Thank you, and I am…" Do I have any right to be, though? It's not like I helped him beyond doing the bare minimum… Everything he's achieved, everything he's built, he did it on his own. He wasn't wrong before, I got in his way more often than not, trying desperately to hold onto the boy he was, instead of seeing the man he was becoming-…

"Are you all right there, Arthur?" came Thaddeus' voice, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Just thinking about the wedding, that's all," Arthur put on a smile, giving Thaddeus a parting nod. "Congratulations, again."

"I'll see you soon, Sir," Ron pulled away from the old Werewolf, grinning like a rascal when Thaddeus went to correct him. "Let me know if you need help with the wedding, won't you? C'mon, dad, let's get back before mum starts to worry."

Thaddeus waved them off as they began making their way back towards the mess hall, with Ron smiling widely at everyone and everything along the way. He was… enjoying… himself, enjoying the pleasant weather, and that alone brought some peace to Arthur. I ought to send Poppy a gift basket and invite her over for dinner.

"It's good to see you smiling, again, son," Arthur couldn't help but say, both of them coming to a stop in front of a bed of roses. "I'm proud of you for going back to Poppy. I know it couldn't have been easy for you, given how hard things have been lately, but you've done the right thing."

Ron said nothing in response, instead he leaned down and smelled the roses with a content smile. Arthur shifted in his spot a little, because despite Ron's visible good mood, he couldn't help but feel that his youngest son was displeased with him. It had been subtle, at first, a defiant stare here and there, but over the last few days, Ron had become more distant than ever. He rarely ever spoke, and when he did, his voice was always laced with venom. And that comment he made about me drinking a few days ago… I could tell that he was upset with me, then. And the way he ignored Mary too. Merlin, I can never read that woman, but still, I could see the hurt in her eyes-…

"Do you think they'd mind if I stole a rose, dad?" Ron suddenly asked, breaking Arthur out of his thoughts. He wants to nick a rose? Why?

"If it's you, then I doubt it," Arthur blinked, confused by the strange question. "Why do you want to do that, though?"

"I want to give it to Kirsten," Ron shrugged, his eyes already searching for the most beautiful one. What…? "She's been working overtime, you know? She always comes home later than she's supposed to, and then, she and Charlie almost always get into a fight. It hurts her a lot, I reckon." How does your mind work, Ron? I can't figure it out! "I know one rose isn't much, but I think it'll cheer her up a bit. Don't you?" So, he cares that Kirsten is upset, but couldn't care less about upsetting his own mother? Why? I don't get it!

"That's very thoughtful of you, son," Arthur muttered, apprehensively studying Ron's happy expression.

"I'm a thoughtful man, and yet, people are always so surprised," Ron chuckled to himself, finally settling on a rose and pulling out his wand. "This one! It's perfect!"

"You don't want to pick one for your mother as well?" Arthur blurted out, feeling strangely angry all of a sudden. "She's been quite upset over the last few days herself." Because of you, I should add. You treat her as though she only exists to cook and clean for you, nothing more!

Once again, Ron ignored him, instead focusing on severing the rose he had selected. Arthur drew in a sharp breath, frustration mixing in with his anger. You know what? I don't care, anymore! I'm done stepping on eggshells around him! I want answers, and I want them, now!

"What about Mary?" Arthur prodded, and yet again, Ron ignored him. "You upset her deeply when you blatantly ignored her. Do you realize how rude you were? Do you even care? She was thrilled to see you back from the States in one piece, but you didn't even spare her a second of your time. You have all the time in the world for others, you have time to attend the wedding of two strangers, but none for your own family? Is that it? We're all trying our best to accommodate your needs, but you just don't care! Why are you so angry with us?!" I shouldn't yell at him, but by Merlin, he drives me mental! Even now, he's just ignoring-…!

Ron suddenly looked to Arthur, still smiling. "Angry? You haven't seen me angry, not really. If you had, you wouldn't dare raise your voice near me ever again." Ron then brought the rose up to his nose, breathing in its fragrance. "I wilfully ignored Mary, that's true, but she knows why I did that. If she didn't tell you, then that's because she's too ashamed to." Too ashamed to tell me what? What could she have possibly done? "Now, as for mum… I haven't said anything to her since I've been back from the States. Sure, I'm not the most pleasant person to be around, but I've kept my tongue in-check for the most part."

"That's the problem!" Arthur felt as though he was going to explode. "You never talk! You just live inside your own head! You constantly make us feel as though we've done something wrong! That we're not good enough for you! If that's the case, then why don't you just tell us what you want from us?! Why do you have to ignore us?! Don't you realize how much it hurts to be ignored by someone you love?!" I'm tired of seeing my wife cry because of you! I'm tired of it, damn you!

Ron's eyes became a little distant, and slowly, he looked back to the roses. "I know how much it hurts, dad, you and mum taught me that lesson when I was still knee-high." Arthur's expression fell at that, his anger and frustrations being doused by guilt. "And I know I've been living in my own head, lately… I know it better than most, but I'm trying very hard to change that. I might be sick in the head, but I'm not oblivious to my own shortcomings." Arthur cringed internally, regretting ever uttering such a thing. "I do love you and mum, I really do… I love all of you more than you can possibly imagine…" he trailed off, his faint smile dying on his lips.

"But…?" Arthur whispered, swallowing thickly.

"I'm just too different, I am," Ron drew in a deep breath, before looking back to his father. "I hold different principles when it comes to… life… than the rest of you, and as a result, I always feel as though I'm all alone in the Burrow. Even after all this time, I still feel so lonely in that house." You do? No… "So, I stay locked away in my own head because, when I don't do that, I argue and fight with my family. I upset you and mum, or, I get rough with my siblings. I act in ways that later make me feel ashamed of myself, and I just want to stop feeling that way all the bloody time." Ron then reached down and grabbed another rose, plucking it. "There… I hope she likes it. I'm not going to apologize for who I am, for the principles that have helped me find so much success, but I don't want her to feel upset over how I turned out, either. I don't want her to think that me being who I am is, in any shape or form, her fault." What? We want you to communicate more with us, but no one can ever doubt how great you turned out. You're a bloody hero, Ron! Why do you still think so lowly of yourself? What aren't you telling us? "Is that okay? Can you accept that? I know it's not exactly what you want, but it's the best I can do."

Arthur could do little but nod, he was simply too taken aback by the sudden honesty his youngest son had just displayed. Ron smiled softly, and then, he turned on his heel and began walking towards the mess hall once again. Arthur lingered behind for a few moments, going over everything Ron had just said to him, though his mind struggled to move on from the fact that his boy still felt estranged from those around him. It's only natural, I suppose, given the brilliant mind he was born with, but I still wish he would just tell us when he feels that way, instead of closing himself off from us. I don't want him to feel so alone that he tries to-…

Arthur felt cold all over, once again picturing Ron atop the Astronomy Tower. I can't ever let that happen, again! I-… I have to find some way to reach out to him, to show him that he'll never be alone as long as Molly and I are on this Earth. But, how do I do that? He's rarely at home, and when he is, he locks himself away in his room. I only ever get to see him during dinner, or, when he's fighting that dummy-… The dummy… That's it! Ron loves Duelling against that thing! It's the perfect time to bond with him! To show him that his old man has a few tricks up his sleeve too!

Making up his mind, Arthur quickly rushed after Ron, catching up with him on the slope leading towards the mess hall. Ron didn't look back, and so, Arthur decided to keep his plan to himself for now. He didn't want to push his luck with the younger wizard, not after shouting at him just a couple of minutes ago. Still, I can't believe he was so open with me. Is this Poppy's influence? Or, has something else happened that I'm unaware of? Could this change in him be because of the friend he lost in the States? The one Molly mentioned to Mary, Pandora, and me? And speaking of Mary, what did she do to upset him? Actually, now that I think about it, I haven't heard from Sebastian in a while… And then, there was the incident with Daphne running away from home… What is going on with them all? What does Ron know that we don't?

As Arthur contemplated what was happening with the Greengrasses, he and Ron were approached by Artyom and London, causing Ron to abruptly stop. Arthur stopped just behind his son, breaking out of his thoughts just in time to avoid colliding into the boy. Don't just stop like that, son, I could've hurt you-…

"We heard you were around, boss," London grinned at Ron, eyeing the roses in his hands. "Are those pretty little things for me? Aw, you shouldn't have!" Arthur eyed the dark-skinned, green-haired mercenary, his eyes lingering on the long scar around her neck. Merlin, I wonder who did that to her… Did they really cut her throat with a blade? A Spell wouldn't leave behind such a jagged, uneven scar. "Afternoon, Mr. Weasley. How do you do?"

"Artyom, I have a question for you," Ron interjected before Arthur could respond. "I hear that the mercenaries are bothering the Werewolves. Is this true?" I knew he wouldn't let it go!

Artyom frowned to himself, before looking to London. "Tell him. You were in charge of men in my absence. Tell him."

"It's one of the younger lads, boss," London sighed out, scratching the back of her neck. "It's just a bit of flirting, that's all. There are a couple of she-wolves who are quite taken with him. Nothing harmful, but not all the wolves approve of it." London then looked to Arthur. "You know how it is with young men, don't you, Mr. Weasley? They can't resist a nice pair of tits to save their lives." Can you not be so vulgar around my son? His tongue is already as black as coal, he doesn't need you encouraging him as well.

"Unfortunately, yes, I do," Arthur replied, looking to Ron. "It was bound to happen, son, but I don't see the harm in it. They all live together, and these things happen between young people."

Ron nodded slowly, and then; he began glaring at Artyom. Ron? What's the matter?

"Break his arms," Ron ordered icily, jarring Arthur entirely. What the fuck? What did he just say? "I pay him to protect these people, not to put his hands on them. Make sure the others see it happen as well, so I don't have to hear about this a second time." Are they actually going to go through with that?! Ron, what the actual fuck?!

"Boss, you can't be-" London started, but stopped when Artyom stuck a finger in her face.

"Shut your mouth," Artyom growled, before looking back to Ron and giving a firm nod. "They have become slack in my absence, but I will correct them."

With that, Artyom marched past them and towards the barracks, promptly followed by the ever-paling London. Arthur, on the other hand, ran around Ron and stared at him in pure disbelief and horror.

"Ron, what's the matter with you?!" Arthur demanded, feeling sick at the idea of some young man being viciously attacked by a brute Artyom's size. "How could you give such an order?! From what London told us, the feelings were mutual from both parties! You have to go stop this, now!"

Ron just stared through him, eventually drawing in a deep breath. "I've put a lot of work into this place, dad, and I won't let some bellend ruin things for me because he can't keep it in his trousers. Artyom will put him back together after he learns his lesson, I'm sure. And trust me, a little fear goes a long way in teaching people some manners."

"Manners…?" Arthur's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

"Do you know what the Death's Hand is, dad?" Ron asked in response. "They're a mercenary band filled with killers; the worst of the worst. This lad is no innocent, not if he's under Artyom's command. You shouldn't feel sorry for him. He knows better than to tamper with the investments of his clients, and yet, he still did it regardless. That means that he either doesn't respect me, or, he doesn't fear me. After today, he will do both." Ron then moved around Arthur and walked off, leaving the older Weasley frozen in place. "Come on, I want to give these to mum and Kirsten before they start wilting."

Arthur slowly turned and watched Ron's receding back, and for the first time in his life, he was terrified of one his own children. Monster…

"Angry? You haven't seen me angry, not really," Ron's voice echoed in his head, turning his blood to ice. "If you had, you wouldn't dare raise your voice near me ever again."

---

Ronald Weasley's POV

Tuesday 13th April, 1994 (St. Mungo's – Midday)

"Oh, good afternoon there," a Medi-Witch stepped out of Tracey's room just as he neared it, looking him over. "Judging by that fine suit and the red hair, you must be the notorious Ronald Weasley." The one and only.

"Medi-Witch Dagny, wasn't it?" Ron asked, putting his gloved hand forward. "A pleasure. Thank you for taking care of my friend."

The Medi-Witch fixed her square glasses, after which she shook his hand. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties, though the dark rings around her eyes made her look much older. Her blonde hair was tied up in a neat bun, and as Ron looked her over, he couldn't help but appreciate how immaculate her uniform was. She looks very professional. Good. I'm glad she's the one looking after Tracey.

"What's in that?" Medi-Witch Dagny looked to small basket in his left hand, raising an eyebrow. "It smells delicious."

"My mother baked Tracey some biscuits," Ron answered, pulling his gloved hand back. "She can eat biscuits, can't she? They won't hurt her throat, will they?"

"No, they won't hurt her throat," she replied, an amused smile gracing her thin lips. "Well, don't let me keep you. She's awfully bored in there these days, so she'll be glad to have a visitor." Bored? You mean lonely, don't you? Damn… I really ought to visit her more often. The others are at Hogwarts, whereas I have no excuse.

Ron gave the Medi-Witch a parting nod as she departed, quickly making his way to the door and giving it a knock. Tracey didn't respond, which made sense given the state of her voice, so Ron turned the handle and opened the door ever-so slightly. He popped his head through first, just to make sure she was decent, and he swiftly spotted her sitting up on her bed, hunched over with a letter close to her face. He entered the room and closed the door behind him, unable to stop a relieved smile from breaking out on his face. She still hasn't noticed me. I wonder what's on that letter that has her so focused.

"Is that from Daphne? Or, Theo?" Ron asked, and Tracey's head jerked up. "Hello. Do you mind if I join you for a bit?"

Tracey hurriedly slipped the letter under her pillow, before sitting up straighter and studying him. She didn't smile back, nor did she respond to his question in any way. She simply stared at him, and for a few seconds, he stared right back. My last visit left an impression, I guess. The Calming Draught really does a number on my filter, doesn't it? Well, never again. Pain is a necessary part of life, and I have to come to terms with that.

"I'm sorry for how I acted the last time I was here," Ron apologized, walking over to the far-end of the bed. She's looking healthier by the day. Is it just because of her new diet, or, because the Silver Leaf is doing its work? Probably both.

"That's… it…?" she croaked, frowning a little. I'm not going to take back what I said, if that's what you're wondering. Millicent will learn the hard way, or, she'll keep following after her wretched parents. Either way, it's out of my hands until she decides otherwise.

"Yes, that's it," Ron gave a nod, raising up the small basket in his left hand. "Peace offering? My mother baked you some treats."

Tracey eyed the basket hungrily, and then, she patted the bed. Ron sauntered closer and sat on the edge, handing over the basket with a growing smile. Tracey wasted no time in opening it up, grabbing a fresh biscuit and shoving it into her mouth. Barbaric… I love it!

"You were… a prat…" Tracey eventually rasped, bits of biscuit still in her mouth. "A… proper prick…" That's me, and one day, you'll be very glad for it.

"I know," Ron agreed, and she narrowed her eyes on his smile. "How are you, Trace? Are you feeling better? You certainly look better."

Her face was no longer gaunt and pallid, but she was still too scrawny for Ron's liking. She will recover, though, and for that alone, I should be thankful.

"You're… smiling…" she whispered, her hand absentmindedly stuffing another biscuit into her mouth. Is she hungry?

"Pretty girls have that effect on me," Ron joked, making her snort. "Aha! You laughed! Now, you can't be mad with me!" I'm safe!

"What? That's not… how it works…" she wheezed, working very hard to stop herself from laughing. "Ow… Don't… make me… laugh…"

"Sorry," Ron chuckled, eyeing the bandage around her throat. "Do you need more Numbing Balm, Trace? I can apply some for you, if you want."

She shook her head, pointing towards her bathroom. "In… two hours…" They don't want her to overuse it? Smart. I'm cutting back on it myself, even though my arm hurts more often as a result.

"Medi-Witch Dagny tells me that you've been bored here all by yourself," Ron changed the subject, and Tracey shrugged.

"Nothing to… do…" she rasped, looking somewhat cast down. "The others are… at Hogwarts… And you never visit…"

"That's fair," Ron's smile weakened, feeling guilty. "I've been a shitty friend, lately, haven't I?" Tracey said nothing in response, but her silence spoke volumes. "Well, if you'll still have me, I'd like to come by more often. Two, or, three times a week, actually."

Tracey's eyes lit up a little, she was definitely excited by that prospect. "Aren't you… busy?"

"Never enough for you," Ron promised, and at last, she smiled fully. "So? Can I come annoy you more often?"

"If you bring… more treats… from your mum," Tracey joked, her spare hand rubbing her throat. Damn, she must be hurting really badly. I should limit how much we talk, it's not good for her.

"I'll bring you more treats, and not just from my mum," Ron started, giving a soft nod. "I know the food here isn't exactly… enjoyable. I can have steaks brought in for us, you know? Steaks, and whatever else you want to eat. Pies. Fish and chips. 'Pizza'. Just write me a list." Tracey clapped her hands, grinning eagerly. "How about some books too? Something to read in order to pass the time?" Tracey lost her grin, shaking her head. "No books, got it. Hold on… What about that music box of yours? I think, Theo still has it. I can go grab it off of him-"

"No, don't," Tracey spoke up, immediately blushing a little after. "…I want him… to keep it…"

"Something to remember you by?" Ron teased, smirking when she looked a little embarrassed. "When are you two going to start dating, eh? I reckon, you'd make a really cute couple-"

Tracey pouted and smacked his arm playfully, however, it genuinely hurt a little. Fucking hell… She's stronger than she looks-… Ron blinked, an idea popping into his head. The Silver Leaf we gave her, of course… They make those who use them loads healthier than they were before. She might be skinny, but I bet her body has never been more resilient! And the stronger the body, the stronger the Magic! Bloody hell, Tracey could actually be far stronger than she was before the-…

"Did I… hurt you?" Tracey whispered apologetically, rubbing the spot she'd hit soothingly. "Ron, I'm… sorry-"

"How is your recovery going?" Ron interjected, shifting closer to her. "Have you noticed anything different about yourself since you woke up?" I need to figure out just how strong she's become! Tests! I should do tests! Oh, and record my findings so I can share them with Professor Snape! He would find them interesting, at the very least!

Tracey went a little wide-eyed, taken aback by the sudden intensity of his gaze. "I'm recovering… fine… Better than expec-… Expected… Ugh… My neck still… hurts, though…" I need a quill and some parchment. Making her talk is only going to cause her more pain.

"Do you have a quill and some paper?" Ron asked, looking to her side-table. "Ah! Let me grab those!" Oh, look, it's one of those 'ballpoint pens'!

"What's… gotten into you…?" Tracey rasped, looking utterly bewildered. "Ron?"

"Here," Ron offered her the pen and parchment, grinning. "Write down how your recovery has been going for me, please. I want all the details, big or small. Go on."

Tracey frowned a little, shaking her head to herself before bringing the pen to the parchment. "Loon…"

Ron waited excitedly for Tracey to finish, which took a lot longer than expected. He could see that she was struggling with the writing, because she constantly stopped to get a better grip on her pen, as if her fingers were no longer used to handling smaller, thinner objects. That might create some obstacles when she starts using her wand, again. Hm… Should I report this to Medi-Witch Dagny? No, she probably already knows. I should instead focus on helping Tracey myself whenever I visit.

"There…" Tracey suddenly whispered, offering him the parchment. "Still don't… get it… But here…"

Ron took the parchment quickly, his eyes scanning her terrible handwriting. Sheesh… I definitely need to help her. "Everyone is surprised by my recovery. Aurora-… That's Medi-Witch Dagny, right?" Tracey gave a nod. "Okay… Aurora is the most surprised by it. She said it would take me weeks to start showing signs of recovery, but I already feel much better. I can even walk a little without mum's help. I still have to shower with her, though. It's weird. She's being really possessive-" Blah, blah, blah… I don't care about that. "Ah, this! I've been feeling stronger than ever, actually. I nearly crushed Theo when I hugged him. He couldn't even breathe. I don't know how I did that, and it scares me-"

Ron stopped, looking back to her. She shifted uncomfortably in her spot; her eyes focused solely on her lap. She's scared? I suppose, it makes sense. She doesn't understand what's going on with her own body. I can relate to that… I'm different too, now, and it scares the fuck out of me.

Ron reached forward and took her hand in his, smiling softly. "You've nothing to fear, Trace. We're going to figure it out together, you and me. I promise."

Tracey looked up and smiled back, squeezing his hand. "Okay… Thanks…"

"I mean it," Ron squeezed back, before looking back to the parchment. "I don't understand what's wrong with me. Most of the time, I feel super energetic. It's like when you eat loads of sugar, but much more intense. I want to run around and dance. I don't want to sit in bed all day. But sometimes, I feel really tired too. I can't even keep my eyes open when that happens." Strange… So, she feels overly energetic, but also gets bouts of exhaustion out of nowhere? I don't get it… What's going on inside her right now? Professor Snape might have an answer to this, he's far more intelligent than I am. I'll bring this to him. "The Healers are very confused by whatever's going on with me. The nurses keep whispering about me. Something is wrong, I know it, but no one will tell me what it is. Not even mum and dad. I know you're somehow behind all this, so tell-" …What? Ron froze momentarily, and when he looked back to her, he saw her staring at him with a mixture of confusion and dread. "…I didn't do anything to you, Trace-"

"Don't lie…" she croaked, squeezing his hand so hard that he winced. "What. Did. You. Do?"

"Tracey, let go…" Ron clicked his tongue, but she only squeezed harder. "Stop that! You're hurting my hand, you little-!"

She abruptly pulled her hand away from his, looking more frightened than confused because of his harsher tone. The Champion growled as he massaged his aching hand, whilst also fighting the urge to slap her jaw to the back of her skull. Stupid fucking cunt! We need both Our hands for Our work! What the fuck is wrong with you?! How about We crush your hands?! How would you like that, huh?!

He drew in several long breaths in quick succession, simultaneously using his Occlumency to douse his sudden rise in anger. My bloody hand… Fuck, that really hurt… It's okay, though… It's fine. She's just-… She's scared, old boy. It's all right. Don't make things worse for her. What's a little more pain to you, anyway, eh?

"…I'm sorry…" Tracey sniffled, her bottom lip already quivering. Don't do that, please. "I don't know… what's happening to… me… I'm sorry-"

"No, don't be," Ron interjected, shifting over to her side and putting his arm around her bony shoulders. "I'm sorry for raising my voice like that. I shouldn't yell at you, especially when you're scared."

"What did… you do to me…?" she sniffled, covering her face with trembling hands. "I'm really… scared… So, tell me… Just tell me-"

"What makes you think I'm behind this?" Ron asked in response, feeling terribly guilty. I didn't know that the Silver Leaves were that potent. How could I?

"I'm not stupid… Ron," Tracey rubbed her face harshly, looking at him with teary eyes. "Mum has been aski-… Asking about… you… What you're like… Weird questions too… Like how long you've… been depressed… She's not even subtle… Never has… been… Ow… Ugh… And just now, you got… all excited about… my recovery… I could tell that… you knew what was… going on with me… Just tell me… I won't get… mad… I promise… I just… want to know… what's wrong with… me… You're supposed… to be my… friend… Friends don't lie…" Fucking hell… Susana Davis, I'm going to punch you in the head next time I see you. Why the fuck are you so interested in me, anyway? I told you to leave me be, didn't I? And as for me… Fuck me, I can be a real daft cunt when I try.

Ron let out a long sigh, shaking his head to himself. Regardless of her mother's lack of wit, and mine, I know there's no point in keeping the truth from her, anymore. The Sacred Tree is dead, as is its Guardian. Plus, Harkin already figured out my ploy long ago. Keeping the truth from her serves no one, and it's clearly hurting her. I should tell her what she needs to know. That's the only way she'll move forward without fear.

"You've never been stupid, Trace," Ron started, squeezing her shoulders. "And you're right, I'm the reason why you're different, now. Why you're… stronger, I guess." Tracey's eyes widened, though her body remained frozen in place. "You were gone, and my heart… It broke my fucking heart…" Ron swallowed thickly, feeling fresh pain within his chest from the recollection alone. "It was all my fault, and there wasn't a single moment where I wasn't hating myself. I just wanted you back. I needed you back. But…" he trailed off, feeling cold all over.

"But?" she urged, nudging him.

"But you were gone," Ron continued, his lips twitching into a sorry, broken smile. "Death was circling you, Trace, and you were incapable of fighting it off. Everyone was losing hope, and your parents… Your mum and dad… Merlin, they were so broken. We were all broken, and desperate… So fucking desperate. None of us were ready to let you go, but we knew it was only a matter of time before we had to…" he paused, drawing in a deep breath. "But then, we found a miracle… We found a way to bring you back, and I knew I couldn't hesitate to grab onto that miracle." You didn't hesitate to save my life, so how could I hesitate to save yours?

"What way?" Tracey muttered; her wet eyes unblinking.

"There was a tree in America. A Magical Tree. Its leaves could heal any injury, according to legend, regardless of that injury's origin. We decided to get one of those leaves for you. That was our only hope of saving your life. The problem with that plan, however, was the fact that the tree itself was dying, and its leaves were all that were keeping it alive, and so, they were off-limit. Your dad and Lord Greengrass tried so very hard to convince the man protecting the tree to give them a leaf, but the man refused, just as he had refused any and all before them. This man was never going to change his mind, so I decided to get involved myself. I decided to act, even if that meant I had to start a fucking war… I just didn't care, anymore… Using Fawkes, I-" he stopped, the memory of Octavia was still a throbbing wound inside his heart and mind. "It doesn't matter… The point is that I got a leaf for you. Professor Snape mixed it into a Wiggenweld Potion and administered it to you, and after a little while, you woke up. You came back to us."

Tracey just stared at him, visibly lost for words, until finally, she blinked repeatedly. "You saved… my life…?"

"No…" his voice cracked, his eyes darting towards her bandaged neck. "I poorly fixed a mess I made, that's all. You saved my life, Trace. All I did was cause you, and your family, untold suffering. If I had just been more prepared, if I had just been better-" he stopped again, closing his eyes and taking in a shaky breath. No tears, Ron. No more crying. You promised. "I will never be able express how sorry I am for what happened to you, not ever."

Tracey said nothing in response, slowly turning her head and looking ahead with hollow eyes. Whatever she was thinking about, Ron knew that he had no right to know about it. If she wanted to hate him, then she had every right to. If she wanted to forgive him, then it didn't matter because he was never going to forgive himself.

All that truly mattered to him was that she had a second chance at life, and that was enough.

"Do you want me to go?" Ron eventually asked, and she weakly shook her head. "Okay… I'll stay, then, for as long as you need me to."

---

Tracey Davis' POV

Tuesday 13th April, 1994 (St. Mungo's – Late Afternoon)

She stared down at her bony hands, which looked so frail, wondering just how much strength they held within them. It was such an absurd concept when she thought about it… She had super strength, as if she were Wonder Woman, and just like any good comic book heroine, she had to sacrifice a part of herself to obtain this new power. I still don't understand how a Magical leaf can do such a thing, though. Magic is so… weird… And amazing! It's just mental!

She subtly looked towards Ron, who was sitting quietly at the end of her bed, reading through the copies of the Quibbler he had sent to her after his last visit. Tracey had so many more questions to ask her red-haired friend, and even though a nurse had come in and redone her bandages, she still couldn't bring herself to speak to him. It hurt too much to find out that Ron had fundamentally changed her very being, but was content to keep it a secret from her until she had pressed him for answers. I bet the others knew about me this entire time, but they kept it hidden from me as well. Just like they tried to keep so much else hidden. Mum and dad… Pansy, Blaise, Draco, Theo… Even Daphne… I know we're Slytherins and all, but I thought we could at least be honest with each other-…

"Are you angry with me?" Ron suddenly asked, raising his head and catching her gaze. "You keep looking at me, but you won't say a word. It's been over two hours, Trace…"

"What if… I am?" she asked in response, sulking.

"It's all right, I can understand why you would be," Ron smiled weakly, drawing in a deep breath. "But, Trace, don't be angry with the others. They don't know the truth behind your miraculous recovery."

"They don't?" she blinked. "You kept it… hidden from… them too?"

"All of them save for Daphne," Ron answered promptly. "But, if I had had my way, she wouldn't know either. She only found out because your parents told her about the Sacred Tree, and about our plan to use a leaf from it." Daphne… I think, it was her idea to keep everything else hidden from me as well-… "Don't be angry with her, either. She only did what she thought was best for you, and although I didn't agree with her thinking, I can still understand her concerns. You just woke up, Trace, and the last thing you needed to think about was how everything went to pot."

"I should be… the judge of that…" Tracey grumbled, massaging her neck absentmindedly. "Not you… Not Daphne…"

"Well, now, you know everything," Ron shrugged, his expression turning blank. "And you can either choose to be bitter with people who spent the last three months crying over you, or, you can grow up a little and realise that your feelings aren't the centre of the Universe." …What? "No one goes through life without being disappointed, but it's how you carry on that makes the difference. No one kept things from you out of malicious intent, they did it because lives and freedoms were on the line. They did it because they didn't want you suffer any more than you already had. Believe me, there are worse reasons out there for people to lie to you, and people will lie to you down the road. It is inevitable. Toughen up, yeah? If you're moping around about something like this, something so minor, then what are you going to do when someone lies to you in an attempt to hurt you? To steal from you? To make you look like a fool?" I know they didn't mean any harm by it… It still hurts, though… I just thought we were above lying to each other about such important matters…

Tracey looked down at her feet, finding his words both vexing and agreeable at the same time. "Fair… You don't have to be… a prat about it… But that's fair-"

"I do have to be a prat, though," Ron countered icily, making her look back up because it felt as though someone entirely new was now in the room. Ron? "Being gentle and soft only gets a person so far. Sometimes, you need to be cold and cruel to get the point across. And the point here is that you were being sheltered from the truth for your own good and for everyone else's." Ron then leaned forward, something dangerous shifting behind his eyes. "And, Tracey, what I've told you today will stay between us. Am I understood? No Healers. No nurses. Not even our friends. What I did to bring you back can still be used against me, and I will not allow that. Not even from you."

With that, Ron stood up and drew in a deep breath, as if collecting himself. He then walked over to the side-table and picked up the 'report' she had written for him, pocketing it without a word. Is he leaving? And why is he taking that with him-…?

"I'll be back on Friday, after you've had some time to think about what I told you," Ron said suddenly, hints of frustration in his voice. "The Healers here don't understand what's going on with you, but I do, and so, I'd like to help you in your recovery. Is that okay with you? If it's not, then just say it, and I won't bother you." Help me in my recovery? Oh, no… Is he going to push me to my limits? He is, isn't he?

Tracey stared up at him, the idea of being stuck here all by herself was definitely not appealing in the slightest, despite knowing that Ron's idea of 'helping' meant working a person to the bone.

"It's okay with… me…" she eventually answered, and Ron gave a firm nod. "Just be gentle… with me… all right?"

"Nah," Ron smirked a little, reaching forward and patting her cheek with his gloved hand. "You're stronger than you think, Trace, and I'm going to prove it to you." Fuck…

"Bring me food, then…" Tracey sighed out, deciding to get some treats out of the deal at least. "I want… that steak… With mash potatoes… And I want… ice-cream…"

Ron's smirk turned into a fond smile. "Steak with mash, and ice-cream for dessert. Got it." He then adorned a more serious, caring expression. "Don't be angry, please. It… It's not a good way to live… It hurts you more than it hurts those who are behind your anger. Always." Tracey blinked, taken aback by how sincere and worried his voice was. "I'll see you soon."

"…See you…" Tracey muttered, still staring at him.

Ron turned and left the room without a word, leaving Tracey alone with her thoughts. What was that? God, he's so strange, sometimes… But he's also not wrong, I suppose. I know Daphne would never want to hurt me. Mum and dad too. And if Ron is right about him, dad, and Lord Greengrass being locked away for taking one of those Magical leaves, then I understand the secrecy… I wish they had trusted me enough to tell me, but I understand.

Tracey looked back to her hands, clenching them tightly. She didn't feel as afraid of the changes in her body as before, and truth be told, she was even a little excited, now. Super strength… I have super strength! I should totally try it out! Shifting to the edge of her bed, Tracey planted her shaky feet on the cold floor. With a grunt, she pushed herself off of the bed, managing to maintain her balance with relative ease. What do I pick up, first? Oh! I know! The side-table! It looks light enough!

Shuffling closer to it, Tracey grabbed the small table by its sides. Here we go! With a loud huff, Tracey put her whole back into lifting it, and much to her horror, it flew up and out of her grip, smashing into the ceiling above before coming right back down. Shit! She threw herself onto the bed, cringing visibly because of the amount of noise the table made upon landing. Fucking hell! I broke it! That was so stupid of me! What was I thinking-…?!

Her door flung open, and a nurse came running in. "Tracey?! What was that noise?!" That was the sound of my stupidity reaching its peak… I really underestimated myself there, didn't I?

"Um… I was just try-… trying to stand up…" Tracey lied pathetically, while the nurse stared at the broken table in disbelief. "I fell…"

"You fell?" the nurse rushed over, alarmed. "Are you hurt? Let me have a look!"

Tracey sat up and let the nurse inspect her, though her eyes were fixed on the table and its broken front legs. Bloody hell… I really did that… That was so-… Oh, my God! I could become a superhero! I just threw a table into the ceiling like it was nothing!

"Tracey? Where does it hurt?" the nurse asked, and Tracey couldn't stop herself from grinning. "Tracey?"

"I'm fine…" Tracey assured the nurse; she finally knew how she was going to pass the time in this room. "Actually, I'm better… than fine…"

"You are?" the nurse blinked, looking back towards the broken table.

"What can… I say? I'm much stronger… than I look…"

---

Millicent Bulstrode's POV

Wednesday 14th April, 1994 (Durmstrang Institute – After Classes)

Millie blankly stared down at her copy of Numerology and Grammatica, cursing the fool who had come up with Arithmancy as a whole. It was a pointless, dull subject, and what made it even more unforgivable was the fact that it was exceedingly difficult. She detested it with all her heart, even though she had only attended two classes so far. Numbers and Divination… Two of the most boring concepts put together into one subject. What the fuck? Why? Who would be interested in this subject? Sorry sods who have nothing better to do with their time, that's who! I'm sick of it already-…!

"Need help?" Ruta whispered, looking up from her Herbology homework.

"No," Millie answered curtly, as she was still upset with her new friend for murdering a helpless animal.

"…Okay…" Ruta responded apologetically, going back to her own studies with a deflated posture. Damn… I feel terrible about this awkwardness between us, but I also can't help how… angry… I am with her for listening to Kemppainen! It just touched a nerve with me, and I'm not even sure why.

The mere thought of attending Martial Training tomorrow with that man sent a shiver up Millie's spine, she was terrified of him and there was no point in denying it. I have to find a way to escape this horrible school. I have to get back to Hogwarts, back to my friends. But how? I can't just waltz out of here; I don't even know where we are! I can't send letters to my friends, because the only animal I brought with me is Misty, and even if I did have an owl, I'm certain my parents have Karkaroff keeping tabs on me! Ugh… I'm just stuck here, and I hate it! And then, there's the fact that if I do somehow escape, Ruta will be left behind to fend off Waldvogel and her harpies all by herself… Merlin, they'll take turns hurting her after what I did to Waldvogel-…

"Do you girls mind if I join you?" came a boy's voice, and Millie broke out of her thoughts.

She looked to her right to see an older boy smiling down at her. He was pale, square-jawed, with black eyes and black hair, and a lean figure. Millie also couldn't help but notice his height, as he was just over six feet tall. Who is this? Why does he want to sit with us? There's plenty of unoccupied space in this library.

"Um… Do we know you?" Millie asked, already suspicious. He wants something from us. The way he's staring at me… I don't like it.

"Schwarz, Eric Schwarz," the older boy put his hand forward, his smile widening despite Millie ignoring his gesture. He's German… Sounds just like Waldvogel, which can't be a good sign.

"He's a sixth-year, Millicent," Ruta spoke up, giving the boy a weak smile. "He helps me with my homework, sometimes." He does? "He's one of the only nice boys at this school."

Millie relaxed a little, gesturing Schwarz to take a seat by her side. He did so happily, even shooting Ruta a wink which made her blush. Millie, however, was a lot less charmed, finding his carefree attitude more smug than endearing.

"I could not help but notice that you girls are having trouble with your homework," Schwarz commented, eyeing Millie's copy of Numerology and Grammatica. "Oh… Arithmancy… Boring subject, but it can be useful under the right circumstances."

"What right circumstances?" Millie quickly asked. This is the most boring thing I've studied in my life!

"The Universe is as much mathematics as it is Magic," Schwarz answered, it sounded as though he was quoting someone. "If you can understand both, you can better understand the Universe."

"What if you have no interest in understanding the Universe?" Millie asked, sounding more hostile than she had intended.

"Millicent…" Ruta whispered, looking between the two. "I told you, he's one of the nice ones…" I thought the same of my parents. Look how that turned out. The worst ones out there know how to play nice; I finally understand that.

"I know why you are being… unfriendly… towards me," Schwarz started, chuckling nervously. "It is my accent, is it not? I know I sound like Alice, just as I know she has been giving you trouble. She does that with everyone, I believe. Terrible girl. No manners and no class."

"Are you speaking from experience?" Millie had to ask, and he gave a prompt nod.

"I move in similar circles as her outside Durmstrang," Schwarz informed them. "She is just as conceited as her parents, who also do not like me very much." He's a Pure-Blood, then. And a rich, fashionable one at that, judging by the colourful rings on his fingers. "Still, I am sorry for her behaviour. Families like hers give all German Pure-Bloods a terrible reputation across Magical Europe."

"Is that why you're here?" Millie asked, studying him carefully. "To apologize for Waldvogel being a bully and a coward?"

"No, I came for more than that," Schwarz replied, before drawing in a long breath. "I have heard that you are from Hogwarts, and that you were a Slytherin there. Is this true?" Huh?

"…Um… Yeah, it is…" Millie narrowed her eyes, whereas Schwarz looked terribly relieved. What's going on here?

"Did you know a girl named Daphne? Daphne Greengrass?" Schwarz leaned forward, surprising Millie further. Daphne? How does he know about Daphne? "She would be in your year. Third year, that is. Do you know of her?"

Millie hesitated, before giving a short nod. "She is one of my closest friends."

"Wùnderbar," Schwarz' black eyes lit up, and then, he looked towards Ruta. "I am sorry, but can I borrow your friend for a moment? I need to ask her something personal. A favour." A favour? I'm not doing you any favours! I don't even know you!

Just as Ruta began to rise, Millie spoke up. "Anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of her. Ruta, sit back down, all right? You don't have to go anywhere."

Ruta looked horribly happy to be acknowledged by her once again, which only served to make Millie feel guiltier over giving the smaller witch the cold shoulder for the last few days. I really should get over it… It's not like she had much of a choice, I already understand that, and given her history, ignoring her will hurt her more than it would hurt most… I will never approve of what she did, but Kemppainen is terrifying, and he would have definitely hurt her if she had refused him like I did.

"Very well, but please, this is a very personal matter, and I would appreciate your discretion," Schwarz sighed out, fidgeting with his many rings. "I am need of assistance from Daphne, but she does not know me, so she will not trust me. I need you to vouch for me-"

"Why do you need her help?" Millie interjected, curious. "And what can she possibly help you with? She might be Lord Greengrass' Heir, but she is no position to offer help to someone so far from Hogwarts."

"I know this," Schwarz whispered, looking around as if he were expecting someone to be eavesdropping. "In truth, it is her mother and father I wish to make contact with, but Lord Greengrass is…" he paused. "His reputation precedes him, as I am sure you are aware. He is not a man who would help a stranger, not unless there was a reward to be had. I… I do not have anything to offer a man with such wealth and power, and so, I must convince his Heir to help me. Even a man such as him would listen to his own daughter, no?"

"I suppose…" Millie muttered, though she wasn't sure Lord Greengrass was the listening sort. "Who are you, exactly? How do you know about Daphne?"

Schwarz smiled in response, showing his pearly whites. "I am her uncle." Did he just say uncle? Uncle?! What?!

"I'm so confused right now…" Ruta mumbled from the sideline, whereas Millie just gawked at the sixth-year.

"Uncle? How are you her uncle?! You're only a couple of years older than her, aren't you?!" Millie demanded in disbelief, and he quickly shushed her.

"Not so loud," Schwarz looked around again, his eyes lingering on a pair of fourth-years across the library. "I am being watched. Orders from my 'father', you see?" Millie and Ruta exchanged looks, both of them even more jarred by this baffling encounter. "I am the Ward of Lord Elias and Lady Anna Maier, who are the parents of Lady Mary Greengrass. I was raised by them from a young age, and I grew to see them as my own parents. This makes Lady Mary my half-sister. At least, in my eyes. I do not believe she is aware of me, but if she is, she has made no effort to find out more about me. This is fine, however. I know her parting from her family was not… civil. As a matter of fact, it was seen as quite the scandal by Magical Germany's Nobility." Nobility? He means the Pure-Bloods, right? And Lady Greengrass was involved in a scandal? No way…

"I have tried to owl Lady Mary herself, but my letters never reached her," Schwarz continued, pressing his lips together. "Lord Elias' doing, no doubt. He does not wish me to make contact with the Greengrass Family, as he harbours an old grudge against Lord Greengrass himself. He has become a bitter, hateful man, and…" he paused again, his jaw clenching tightly. "And, he hurts my mother in his drunken tantrums… He beats her… Blames her for Lady Mary leaving them…"

Millie felt her face drop at that, while Ruta's hands climbed over her gaping mouth. That's dreadful… What sort of husband beats his wife?!

"Does he hurt you…?" Millie muttered before thinking better, and when he didn't respond, she adorned a rather sorry expression. "…I'm sorry…"

"This is awful…" Ruta added.

"The safety of my mother is all that concerns me," Schwarz drew in a sharp breath, giving Millie a pleading look. "Please, I have no one to turn to. I do not take possession of my inheritance until I become of age, but by then, it will be too late for her. Lord Elias is becoming bolder and more violent as of late. Daphne herself reached out to them recently, but my mother was the one who found the letters. She attempted to reconnect with her estranged daughter, but when Lord Elias found out, he became enraged. We wanted to get away from him, but in our carelessness, we were discovered. Now, he has her locked away in their bedchamber, and I am betrayed by my own friends… Friends I have known since I was a boy… I cannot even send letters, anymore. Not to anyone. This is why I have come to you. I need your help. I cannot allow that man to abuse my mother any longer." Merlin's fucking Beard… As if my life wasn't complicated enough already!

"Look… I'm really sorry about your… situation…" Millie started lamely, swallowing thickly. "But I can't help you…"

"Oh…" Schwarz' expression fell upon hearing her answer, his shoulders sagging.

"I want to, I really do, but I can't," she added quickly. "I was sent here by my parents as punishment for… disobedience. I don't have an owl, and even if I did, Karkaroff would interrupt my letters to my friends. My parents are-… Well, they're awful people, but they're very careful… They don't want me to be chummy with a particular friend of mine… A 'Blood-Traitor', so they must have taken certain measures to stop me from sending him letters. Him, or, any of our friends." I still have no idea how Tracey is doing, and it's killing me.

"I see…" Schwarz nodded weakly, his eyes losing all life and becoming distant. "That is understandable. I am sorry for disturbing you two with my troubles. I will leave, now. Forgive my intrusion-"

"I have an owl," Ruta spoke up, and they both looked to her. "I never use him, because my da doesn't like to be disturbed, and I don't really have any friends to send letters to…" she trailed off, averting her gaze out of shame. "You can use him, if you like."

"Truly? You would do this for me?" Schwarz asked, life returning to him.

"For you both," Ruta squeaked, taking Millie by surprise with her simple response. "Your mother doesn't deserve a mean husband, and Millicent misses her friends from back home. You can use my owl, it's the least I can do." Ruta…

"Thank you!" Schwarz was suddenly bursting with hope. "I will repay this kindness a thousandfold when I am able, I swear it."

"Oh, you don't have to do that…" Ruta blushed deeply, her lips twitching upwards. "I'm not doing much. It's Balint who'll be flying all the way to Hogwarts, not me." Balint? She never mentioned having an owl before.

Millie couldn't help but smile at Ruta, all the while thinking of finally hearing from her best friends. This-… This could be my way out of here… If I can reach Daphne, and through her, reach Ron, I could finally go home. He'd find a way to help me. I know he would.

"This could be dangerous," Schwarz said, snapping Millie back to reality. "If we are discovered, Lord Elias will make your life very difficult. Do you understand this?"

"Not to mention my parents, Ruta," Millie added, losing most of her excitement. "Maybe, it's not such a good idea, after all-"

"I want to help," Ruta urged them, sitting up straighter. "We'll be careful, won't we? If so, then I don't see a problem with trying." Because you don't understand what our Families are capable of. I don't know about Lord Maier, but my parents are killers! Death-Eaters!

"Are you certain?" Schwarz asked, exchanging a look with Millie. "Please, do not feel compelled by my-"

"I want to help," Ruta repeated, her voice stronger this time around. "And Balint never gets to leave this place, not ever. It will be good for him, I think." I need to educate her about the dangers of pissing off prominent Families when I get a chance, just to be on the safe side.

"Okay, if we are going to try this…" Millie started, whispering now. "How do we go about it? What's the best way to keep this hidden from the likes of Karkaroff?"

"We cannot be seen together after today," Schwarz started, and both girls listened intently. "Not for any reason, understand? I approached you here because I am known to help the younger students with their homework. If we must meet, it must be after curfew. Agreed?"

"Agreed," they said together.

"Ruta will send the letters to Daphne through her owl," Schwarz continued. "But we must be careful about the timing. Headmaster Karkaroff is planning to attend a ceremony in Magical Bulgaria soon. Near the end of April, I believe. The day he leaves the fortress, that is when we will send Balint on his way."

"We can send Balint straight to Lady Greengrass, Schwarz," Millie suggested, but he merely smiled and shook his head. "Why not? Wouldn't she want to help her own mother?" The Lady Greengrass I know is kind and caring, and there is no doubt in my mind that she would want to help. Lord Greengrass, probably not, but Lady Greengrass for certain!

"You wish to contact your friends, do you not?" Schwarz asked, and Millie gave a nod. "Then, we will send Balint to Daphne Greengrass. I have faith that she will bring my concerns to her parents without hesitation… To her mother, my sister. Once Lady Mary learns of our father's actions, she will convince her Lord Husband to take action." And on the off-chance she doesn't, Daphne will. I get it. He's thought about this a lot, clearly. "Now, I must go. My friend, Viktor Krum, will be looking for me-"

"Viktor Krum?" Millie asked, her brow furrowed. "Is he one of the friends spying on you?" I'll need to watch out for him, then-… Hold on… I've heard that name before… But where?

"No, he is a loyal friend… A true friend," Schwarz smiled fondly. "He knows of my plight. He has offered to help many times, but I cannot bring myself to accept. He has only recently begun his career, and I do not wish to blemish it with my troubles."

"He's being watched too, I'm guessing," Ruta said, and Schwarz gave a nod.

"He is too bull-headed to notice such things, but yes," Schwarz confirmed. "Thank you once again, Ruta. I owe you more than you can possibly imagine. Both me and my mother are in your debt."

"Oh, no… It's really nothing…" Ruta went as red as a tomato, making Millie cock an eyebrow. She is definitely smitten with him. It's so obvious. I hope she's not putting herself in danger just to impress him. That would be terribly irresponsible.

"Farewell, friends," Schwarz got up, looking around once again. "Write your letter, Millicent, and I will write mine. When it is time to make our move, I will find a way to contact you two."

Before Millie could say anything, Schwarz rushed off, leaving the two girls behind to stare at each other in silence. Bloody hell… Is this really happening? I'm really going to make contact with them, again? Millie's lips formed a smile on their own, something that Ruta immediately noticed.

"You must be so excited," Ruta whispered, and Millie slowly lost her smile as she came back to her senses. "What's wrong? Did I say something?" I'm using Ruta to find a way to run away, which will leave her all on her own, again. I… I should tell her the truth… I can't just use her like this, not without her knowing what's going on.

"Ruta…" Millie started, shifting in her spot. "The letter I plan to send to Daphne… I want to ask my friend, Ronald Weasley, to help me get away from Durmstrang… I want to go back to Hogwarts…"

Ruta stared at her for a while, and then, she smiled weakly. "…I figured…" You did?! "Not about Ronald Weasley, of course, but I know you want to leave. I can't blame you for that, I would leave too if I could. And Hogwarts… Hogwarts sounds perfect in every way possible."

"Why don't you leave too?" Millie mumbled, feeling her heart twist. She knows, and she's still willing to help me? "You told me that many Half-Bloods were pulled out of Durmstrang when Karkaroff took over, so why not you?"

"My da is…" she started, but stopped. "We're not close, not since my ma passed away. He only cares about his business, now, and whenever I'm home, he just ignores me… I've told him about Alice and everything else, but he doesn't care. He just tells me to focus on my studies, that's all." Wow… What kind of father does that? Even my father, for all his sins, cares about me. He would never outright ignore me, or, the issues I'm facing.

"Ruta, I'm so sorry," Millie whispered, not knowing what else to say. Merlin, if I leave her, then she really will be all alone. Gods! I can't even imagine how lonely she must've been before I arrived! It's too hard to even try!

"…It's okay, though…" Ruta shrugged, shrinking. "Once I'm old enough, I'll be fine… He can keep his business, I'll go live my own life…" Ruta then pinched her eyes, before putting on another smile. "So, what will you say to your friend? Do you know?"

"…I don't…" Millie swallowed thickly, averting her gaze. "…I'll have to figure that out, won't I…?" Am I really doing this? Leaving Ruta behind feels wrong. No, it is wrong. Waldvogel, Rask, Kemppainen… Everyone at this bloody school! She's too good for all of them, and if I leave her, they'll eat her alive!

"Millicent? What's the matter?" Ruta asked, looking worried. "You're scaring me."

"It's nothing," she lied, feeling torn apart from the inside. "Um… Can you help me with this, please? I really can't understand all of these numbers and their meanings…" What am I going to do? I don't want to stay here, but I don't want to leave Ruta behind, either. Fuck… What do I do?!

---

Albus Dumbledore's POV

Thursday 15th April, 1994 (Hogwarts – After Classes)

"And how are the preparations proceeding for the climax of the Duelling Tournaments, Remus?" Albus asked, he had called a meeting with his Professors in order to touch base with them.

"Oh, they're going well," Remus answered, he sounded as though he'd been caught off-guard. "I know we planned to be done with the Duelling Tournaments by now, but I'm finally-"

"They need to come to an end, Remus," Minerva interjected, frowning sternly. "The exam period is almost upon us, and I will not have those sitting their N. E. W. Ts distracted. Nor those sitting their O. W. Ls, for that matter."

"Is everything all right, Remus?" Pomona asked, reaching out and patting his arm. "You seem distracted, lately."

"Because he is," Severus commented icily. "Still running off to that oversized camp of mongrels every chance you get, Lupin?" Oversized camp of mongrels? Merlin's Beard… "I'm surprised you haven't caught their fleas yet."

"They are not dogs, Snape," Septima sneered in disgust, before shaking her head in disapproval. "They are people, just like you and I. You should be ashamed."

"I concur," Minerva said, also giving Severus a dark look.

"Gryffindor and Hufflepuff have their Quidditch Finals this weekend," Remus spoke up, raising his voice a little as if to drag them back onto the topic at hand. "We can finish up the Ranked Tournaments the weekend after. On the 24th and 25th, that is. Does that work for the rest of you?"

"Isn't that too soon?" Pomona asked, no doubt worried about her Hufflepuffs being pushed too hard.

"The sooner the better, I say," Filius said, hopping a little in his seat. "The students are all excited to see the outcome, and I must admit, as am I! Should we invite the parents once again?"

"No," Severus frowned. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the coffin, today.

"Yes, we should," Minerva nodded her agreement.

"They have every right to attend," Charity added quickly. "But what of the Muggle parents, Headmaster? Surely, you could give them the privilege of attending as well, could you not?"

"That would be foolish," Severus' frown became deeper, much to Charity's chagrin. "The Ministry will not allow it, and given their recent drop in reputation, any actions that go against their rules will no doubt be seen as act of open defiance." Severus then looked directly into Albus' eyes. "It would be unwise to antagonize the new Minister, don't you agree? Especially when she is trying to establish herself as a competent leader?" I get the strangest feeling that you will Curse me if I don't side with you.

"I must agree with Severus on this," Albus said, and Charity's expression fell immediately. "Minister Bones already has enough on her plate, and it would be unfair of me to add more." Albus then looked to Remus, smiling. "The 24th and the 25th will do just fine, my boy. However, I would like to make one small request of you…"

"A request, Headmaster?" Remus blinked. Severus is going to resent this! I can hardly wait to say it!

"Millicent Bulstrode is no longer a student of Hogwarts, which presents a problem for the C Ranks going forward," Albus started, trying his hardest not to grin at Severus. "Worry not, though, for I have already come up with a solution."

"And what solution is that?" Severus asked, as if already knowing what Albus was about to suggest.

"Harry, of course," Albus answered, and Severus drew in a sharp breath. "He should take her spot, I believe-"

"By what right?!" Severus seethed, and Albus barely stopped himself from bursting into laughter. He is so easy to wind up! "No! You will not give that fool-!"

"Are you the Headmaster of Hogwarts, now, Severus?" Minerva cut in, narrowing her eyes. "Potter and Bulstrode's Duel could have gone either way, and seeing as we need to make up for her absence, Potter is the best candidate for the job."

"Why him?!" Severus demanded, glaring at the smiling Albus. "Why not Draco? Or, any other student who was defeated? Why Potter?"

"Why not him?" Albus simply asked in response, his eyes twinkling. "Severus, I am not making any moves here… I simply believe the same as Minerva does. Harry and Millicent put on a spectacular show, and although Harry lost, the Duel truly could have gone either way. And, by bringing Harry back, we do not risk taking away from the victories of the other students. Would Draco not be upset if, let's say, we decided to give Hermione Granger the open spot?"

"You… You are…" Severus clenched his jaw, he wanted to slap the 'innocent' smile off of Albus' face. "I will not agree to this. I will not."

"That is a shame, Severus," Albus sighed out, pretending to be saddened by the Potion Master's reaction. "However, I believe it is for the best. I do not wish to upset anyone, nor do I wish to give a free victory to the one who was meant to face Millicent."

"Yes, I'm certain that this is just another act of fairness from you," Severus sneered, turning to leave. "I will be in my lab. Do not disturb me."

"Actually, Severus, I have need of you," Albus called, his lips twitching upwards when the Potions Master looked back with murder in his eye. "This is important." I should stop pulling his leg, now, before he pulls out his wand and murders me in front of all of them. "The rest of you may continue on with your day. Remus, please begin the preparations at your earliest convenience. Filius will help you."

"At once, Headmaster," Remus gave a respectful nod, and one-by-one, they all left the office.

Severus remained rooted in his spot for nearly a minute, glowering at Albus. "You continue to give Potter far more than he deserves. If he defeats my Slytherins, I will contest his victory openly. I will ruin him-"

"You are being very dramatic, Severus," Albus chuckled, making the man's remaining eye twitch. "Do you truly have such little faith in your students? Both Blaise and Theodore show great promise, and I am eager to see how Harry fares against them."

"It is not about faith," Severus hissed, limping over and taking his usual seat. "My Slytherins worked hard to get their spots, whereas you are handing Potter one for simply existing. It is unjust, and if this hurts my House, then I will hold you personally accountable."

"I need to see his potential," Albus said, adorning a more serious expression. "He proved himself capable in first year, when he stopped Quirrell, but that is not enough for me. Not anymore. Harry has an important role as a leader in the days to come, and it is past time he was put to the test. Don't you agree?" Severus frowned deeply, but said nothing in response. "Good. It is settled, then."

"…What do you want from me, Albus?" Severus eventually asked, his disdain of Harry was impossible to miss. "What's so important that you would keep me from my work?"

"I will be attending the gala being held in Minister Samara's honour on the 30th, in Bulgaria," Albus started, and Severus cocked an eyebrow. "Many prominent figures will be in attendance from across Magical Europe, including Ministers and their Heads of Departments. Minister Bones herself will be attending also, alongside Barty and Alastor."

"She wants to make new friends?" Severus asked, and Albus gave a nod.

"I imagine so," Albus replied, leaning forward. "I would ask you to attend this gala with me, but I know you despise such gatherings, and so, I have decided to take Ronald with me, instead."

"Ron? You want to take him with you?" Severus scoffed, staring at Albus as if he were stupid. "That is a foolish move, Albus… At best, he will be rude to any who come across him. At worst, he will tear out Samara's entrails in front of her guests."

"He has been through much in the past few months, yes, and it has certainly left him changed for the worst," Albus smiled, matching Severus' gaze. "However, I also happen to know that he is now seeking help from Poppy once again. He is trying to be better, and I wish to reward that by showing him that I need him… That we need him. And, truthfully, I have faith that he will conduct himself in a manner that is both wise and dignified."

"He is seeing her again, is he?" Severus asked, sounding doubtful. "Did he tell you this?" Ye of so little faith…

"He did, and Poppy has confirmed his words," Albus answered. "He was here just a few days ago, as a matter of fact, losing to me in chess." I wanted to tell him the story of Lupa and her siblings, but I know he would be upset if he didn't earn it for himself. "He is confused, Severus, but he is looking for guidance rather than becoming used to the darkness. This is good! This is what we both wanted, remember?"

"You want me to go to him, don't you?" Severus knew him all too well. "Why can't you just say what's on your mind, old man?"

"In my experience, it's always better when others find their own way to a conclusion," Albus smiled widely, his eyes twinkling again. "It certainly makes them more agreeable, at the very least."

Severus drew in a long breath, before giving Albus a curt nod. "Anything else?"

"Just one more thing," Albus began, and Severus rolled his eye. "Alexie… Samara's young son. Luka has informed me that he has a lead, but also that he is being watched. His movements have become… limited, as a result. We must help him pursue this lead, but we cannot use Order members. The underbelly of Magical Russia is a dangerous place, and we need dangerous individuals to navigate it."

"The Travers girl," Severus said, and Albus nodded. "Ron is close with her. I will set him to task when I see him."

"This has to happen now, Severus," Albus told him, and without wasting a second, Severus rose from his chair. "Before you go, however, I wish to know of the wand we found beneath Ilvermorny… Have you made any progress with the Curse placed upon it?"

"No…" Severus responded, sounding mildly annoyed. "When I do, I will let you know. Until then, don't nag me about it. It is difficult work, but I am doing my best." Touched a nerve, did I?

"Very well!" Albus beamed, despite feeling slightly disappointed. "I believe in you, my boy! You will figure it out yet!"

"…Ugh…" Severus shook his head in disgust, leaving the office promptly. Oh, I should've offered him a Lemon Drop! Damn, I missed my opportunity! Still, it's probably for the best, as I did anger him quite a bit with my decision regarding Harry. I wonder how Ronald will react when Severus informs him. I hope he understand what I'm trying to accomplish, the last thing I need is him coming in here and breaking my nose… Again…

---

Severus Snape's POV

Thursday 15th April, 1994 (The Burrow – Evening)

Snape stepped into the kitchen, immediately spotting Arthur and Molly hunched up and staring out of the window overlooking the front yard. They were whispering to each other, utterly oblivious to the stranger who had walked into their home without raising a single alarm. If I was a Death-Eater, they'd both be dead by now. This is what the Order has been reduced to? Do none of them appreciate that we're at war with the most dangerous man on the planet?

"Why don't you go join him right now?" Molly whispered a little too loudly, and Snape cocked an eyebrow. Him? She must mean Ron. "You said you would, Arthur."

"I know… But, Molly… There's something wrong with that boy," Arthur whispered back, much to Snape's amusement. You have no idea. "There's no use in denying it any longer, not after what I told you. He had that boy's arms broken… I don't know how to act around him, anymore. That's not the boy we raised, and I don't know if I want to get to know whoever that is out there-"

"He's still our son," Molly urged, smacking Arthur's arm. "You need to teach him right from wrong! How else is he supposed to know better?" He ought to be teaching you two, not the other way around. And what's this about Ron having someone's arms broken? He's trying to change, my arse! That old fool sent me here to get another chair broken against my back! "Oh, go on, will you? I'll be right here! What's the worst that could happen?" You could end up as a widow.

"Ahem," Snape cleared his throat, having grown bored of observing their mundane conversation.

Arthur and Molly jumped, before turning to face the Potions Master.

"Severus?" Molly blinked, causing Snape to frown. Since when are we on a first name basis? I swear, ever since the Order pulled me out of that dungeon, they have all become far too familiar for my liking.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur asked, just as surprised as his wife. "Is something wrong? Does Dumbledore need us?" Need you for what, exactly? What can you even do?

"I am here to see Ron," Snape answered curtly. "Is he outside?"

"Here to see Ron?" Molly repeated, and Snape drew in a sharp breath. Is there an echo in here?

"Yes, that is what I said," Snape droned, staring through them. "I am… checking up on him."

"You are?" Arthur seemed even more taken aback, now. "Whatever for?"

"He is a student of Slytherin, is he not?" Snape asked, growing impatient. "Is he outside?"

"Yes, yes…" Arthur nodded, both of them moving away from the window. "He's just practising against that dummy of his, as usual. Well, I wouldn't call what he's doing to it 'practise', but still…" he trailed off.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Molly asked, putting on a welcoming smile. "I can call Ronnie in for you, if you like." Ronnie? What a ridiculous pet name.

"Neither will be necessary," Snape made his way towards the door, giving them a parting nod. "I will be leaving as soon as I'm finished with him."

With that, Snape made his way outside, limping towards Ron and the P-12 Auror Trainer. The two were locked in a fierce Duel, and as such, Snape decided to let it play out. Ron was in complete control of the fight, from the looks of it, though his sluggish dodges and dirty clothes suggested that he had been at this for a good while, and therefore, was running out of stamina. His wand movements are still flawless, however. That is good. He must be sacrificing his movement for precision, which is an intelligent tactic when one is tired.

Without uttering an incantation, Ron suddenly twirled his wand before flicking it up, causing the grass beneath the P-12 to grow rapidly and latch onto its spare hand, yanking the dummy to the ground. Snape's lips twitched upwards as Ron began to advance, firing a chain of Spells that seamlessly transitioned into the next, until finally, he was towering over the P-12. His left hand began to glow orange, and when Ron thrust it forward, torrents of scorching fire shot out of his palm, washing over the P-12 and its last-minute shield. That grin on his face would give even Bellatrix reason to pause. The boy has grown in power, not even I can deny him that.

As the P-12's shield began to crack, Ron threw himself forward, replacing the flames with his own body. The shield shattered and the dummy fell onto its back, with Ron quickly straddling it. What was that? Ron brought his right fist down, smashing the P-12 in its face. Snape raised an eyebrow as Ron viciously began to beat the dummy, even tossing his wand aside in favour of using his own fists. He could have just ended it, but instead, he's resorting to a physical assault? Barbarian… Ron shrieked and roared like a manic beast, his knuckles becoming bloodied as he brought them down relentlessly. The P-12 just lay there, unable to muster the strength to do anything besides take the beating, until finally, Ron raised his right fist above his head, bringing it down with such force that the dummy's face caved in. Merlin's Beard! There's that inhuman strength, again!

Snape was unable to stop himself from smirking, gratified in knowing that, one day soon, one of his old comrades would be unlucky enough to cross paths with the maniac before him. They're going to wish they had stayed in Azkaban.

Ron dragged himself up to his feet, throwing his arms to his sides as he howled at the darkening sky. Snape began making his way over at that, his cane and footsteps making no sound whatsoever, and yet, well before he neared the boy, Ron turned in his direction.

"I thought I sensed you entering the Burrow," Ron grinned, panting. "Can't mistake that particular signature."

"Sensed me?" Snape asked, Conjuring a glass of water with his spare hand.

"Oh, thank you, Sir," Ron accepted the glass, immediately chugging it down. "Damn, that hits the spot! And yeah, I sensed you… The ghost in my head told me to try and keep it up during combat. Says that it can help me determine when my opponent is making their next move. It's damn hard, but I'm trying my best to keep it going. Here, look at this!" Ron displayed the bloodied knuckles of his left hand. "Fucked him up proper, didn't I?! Fucking wooden cunt! He stood no chance!"

"Fighting a man is very different from fighting a toy, I assure you," Snape said, despite feeling proud of Ron's progress. Not that you haven't fought and killed men before.

"Is that an invitation?" Ron chuckled, flexing his shoulders. "I'm a bit tired, but I reckon I could still give you a run for your gold."

"Don't let the cane fool you, boy, there's plenty of fight left in me yet," Snape smirked, limping closer in order to get a good look at the P-12's face. "Why use your hands instead of your wand? Seems unnecessary to me."

"I enjoy it more," Ron shrugged, pressing his boot to the P-12's throat. "I like to imagine that this is Lucius Malfoy, or, any other Death-Eater, actually. Merlin, I can't wait to butcher them all! It's going to be brilliant!" I hope I get to see it. "What brings you here, Sir? Can I run in and get you a cuppa?" Weasleys and their undying hospitality… "I actually have something I need to give you, but it's in my room. A report on Tracey's recovery. I reckon it would be an interesting read for you." Really? Consider me intrigued.

"I will grab it on my way out," Snape said, and Ron smiled gratefully.

"Thank you, Sir, I appreciate you taking a look at it. Now, what did you want with me?"

"Albus sent me," Snape looked to the boy, studying his features. That smile is genuine. Perhaps, the old man was right, after all. "He tells me that you are seeing Poppy, again."

"Oh… Yeah," Ron nodded, his smile faltering. "It's um… I want to learn to channel my anger, you know? I don't want to end up doing this to some sorry sod who doesn't deserve it." Good. "What does the Headmaster require of me? Just say the word, and I'll get onto it."

"Yahontov has a lead on Alexie, the son of Minister Samara," Snape started, and something flashed behind Ron's eyes. "However, he is under surveillance, and cannot pursue this lead on his own. He needs help from those not tied to the Russian Ministry. He needs our help, but we cannot risk sending members of the Order. Russia is a dangerous place, especially with the Dark Lord residing there. I need you to get in touch with Emilia Travers. She is capable, and I know she has men under her command."

"Sir…" Ron raised an eyebrow, frowning a little. "Emilia is a part of the Order too, just as much as the rest of them. I'm not saying I won't go talk to her, but I don't like the idea of her being treated as an outsider, all the while being sent out to risk her life for us. That is not right, not one bit. She has proven her worth, and in my opinion, far more so than the likes of my parents. I want her to be treated with respect, even from you and the Headmaster." He has become quite fond of her, I see. Snape gave a nod, and Ron smiled again. "Thank you."

"Bring her to my lab this Saturday, in the evening" Snape turned to leave, but Ron quickly hopped into his way. "What is it?"

"There's someone else in Magical France that we can use," Ron grinned mischievously, making Snape blink. I haven't seen that look in a long time… I-… I have missed it… "Johan Abadie."

Snape immediately frowned, Albus had told him of Ron's encounter with Johan Abadie and the 'High Mother'. "Absolutely not."

"Oh, c'mon!" Ron laughed, looking manic. "I promised Abadie I'd give him a chance, and having a Veela Queen in our pocket will definitely come in handy."

"Until she stabs us in our backs," Snape countered. "I am with Albus on this, Ron. We cannot trust this woman."

"Of course, we can't trust her," Ron rolled his eyes, before grinning again. "But that doesn't mean we can't use her! And Abadie is clever, Sir! Damn clever! Fucking weird, no doubts about that, but clever! And useful! Plus, if I keep ignoring them, they're bound to come looking for me, eventually. I'm on their radar, Sir, so I'd prefer to keep them in my sights. And, if they do betray us, then…" His eyes flashed red. "I'll kill them all. I invaded one mountain; I can invade another whenever it suits me." He's not wrong about him being on their radar, but why do I get the feeling that he wants them to betray him? Is he really just looking for a reason to 'channel his anger' towards them? Blood-thirsty lunatic…

"Start with Abadie, but do not tell him of our plans," Snape ordered, he knew better than to argue when Ron's mind was already made up. "If they are worthy of our trust, we will find out in due time. Until then, we keep both him and his kind unaware of our moves."

"I will go to him under the pretence of wanting to get closer to the High Mother," Ron promised, looking truly excited. "One way, or, another, she too will become our piece. A bloody strong piece, but still disposable." I can work with that. I'll let Albus know when I return.

"Be careful," Snape said, limping back towards the Burrow. "And keep your eyes on your mother and father. Your mask is slipping, boy, and they will not like what lies beyond it."

"I'll keep that in mind, Sir," Ron returned to his dummy, repairing it with a wave of his hand. "Let's go, again, you little bitch! I'm not done with you yet!" Oh, before I forget…

"I almost forgot," Snape turned around, and Ron looked to him expectantly. "Potter is taking Bulstrode's place in the C Rank Tournament going forward. I trust that you will make sure Slytherin is not embarrassed by his hands." If Albus wants to give Potter a challenge, then I will happily oblige.

"And why I should care about these Tournaments?" Ron asked, chuckling as he waved a dismissive hand. "These things are beneath me, Sir. A bunch of idiots fighting over House Points… Please. I'm done with that sort of tripe." Is that so?

"You will not be taking part in the A Rank Tournament, then?" Snape asked, vexed at the idea of Slytherin losing its lead.

"Why would I?" Ron asked in response. "Did you not see what I did to this Auror Trainer unit? What do I have to gain by fighting a bunch of students? They will provide no challenge for me to overcome. It sounds boring and not worth my time."

"You want it to be worth your time, do you?" Snape decided to negotiate. "Very well, then. If you have Potter taught some humility, and you win the A Rank Tournament for Slytherin, I will teach you one of my most dangerous creations. A Curse capable of cutting a man down to pieces in the blink of an eye." Ron looked to him at that, ravenous hunger behind his eyes. "I created this Spell myself, and I can promise you that it is one of the most lethal Spells ever conceived. Once the Curse hits, nothing can heal its damage except for the Counter-Curse, which only I know."

"You'll teach me the Counter-Curse too?" Ron asked, and Snape gave a nod. "Fine, then. I will humble Harry and get you your win, and you will pay me with knowledge."

"You have my word," Snape promised, turning to leave again. "Don't forget about Travers, we have little time to waste. And bring the Russian as well, he may have insight that could prove useful."

---

Daphne Greengrass' POV

Friday 16th April, 1994 (Hogwarts – After Classes)

"This is a nice turnout," Theo commented, shooting Daphne a smile. "You did good, Daph. Ron would be proud." I didn't do it for him, but that still means a lot.

"Pansy did most of the work," Daphne smiled subtly, looking to Theo. "I have to admit, I'm a little jealous of her ability to spread news and gossip. It has its perks. Without her, not even the first years would have come back to the study group."

"How humble you are," Theo sniggered, making her lips twitch upwards.

"I'm the most humble person you'll ever meet," Daphne retorted, remembering every time she had made the same joke to Ron.

"Oh, I'm sure," Theo chuckled, nudging her arm. "Did that line ever work on Ron?"

"You'd be surprised," she winked, before looking towards Pansy and Longbottom. "And it looks like Pansy's lines are working too, judging by the blush on Longbottom's cheeks."

"They still haven't kissed yet," Theo whispered, surprising Daphne. "What? I occasionally listen to her whining too. When she can't find you, she comes to me, now."

"She really told you that?" Daphne asked, looking back to him. And it's not whining… She's frustrated with Longbottom's lack of bollocks, and frankly, I don't blame her. You boys can be quite cowardly when you try.

"What can I say?" Theo smirked arrogantly. "I'm the most trustworthy person you'll ever meet." Oh, you little prat!

"Now, that might be the boldest lie you've ever told me in all our time together," Daphne teased, and he promptly feigned hurt. "You've been in a very good mood these last few days, Theo… What're you hiding from the rest of us?"

"I'm not hiding anything," Theo shrugged, but she already had a pretty good idea.

"You haven't been sneaking off after curfew to send letters to Tracey?" Daphne whispered, and Theo blinked. Got you!

"Fucking Blaise…" Theo sighed out, frowning a little. "It was him, wasn't it?"

"And Malfoy," Daphne answered, and Theo rolled his eyes. "They were just worried about you, that's all. And, truth be told, I wasn't exactly sure those letters were going to Tracey, but thanks for confirming it."

"Who did you think I was sending them to?" Theo asked, curious.

"Ron."

"You told us not to tell him about what's happening in Slytherin, remember?"

"I know, but I wasn't sure that you'd listen to me," Daphne admitted.

"And why wouldn't I?" Theo asked, placing his elbow atop his books and supporting his head with his right hand. "Because you're a girl? Or, because Ron's my best mate?"

"Both."

"I'm not Blaise, Daph," Theo said softly, giving her a meaningful look. "I trust you, and I know you always put Ron's needs above everything else. Plus, you've heard the rumours, haven't you? That he's been seen in Pomfrey's office?" I have, and I really hope they're true. "I wouldn't be a very good friend if I interrupted him getting the help he needs, now, would I?"

"No, you wouldn't," Daphne smiled, taking his spare hand in hers. "Thank you, Theo."

"Eh, no need for that," Theo said dismissively, though he gave her hand a tight squeeze. "I just want him to get better and come back to us. And, hopefully, he'll bring Tracey with him. Wouldn't that be something, huh? All of us in Hogwarts, again? All together?"

"Not all of us," Daphne whispered, sorely missing Millie's presence. I hope she's keeping out of trouble at Durmstrang. She must be so lonely.

"She'll be fine," Theo said reassuringly, picking up on her worries. "She's tough, that lass. Tougher than most, and you know it. We'll see her again, I know we will, and when we do, we'll never let her out of our sight." Merlin… Are you really Theo? What has Tracey done to you?!

"You're even starting to sound like Tracey," Daphne couldn't help but smile again, and Theo's cheeks turned slightly red. "Are you finally going to ask her out when she comes back?"

Theo let go of her hand, shuffling in his spot a little. "…Yes…" Brilliant! "You're enjoying this too much, you know?"

"I'm just glad we're not moping around, anymore," Daphne said, and Theo snorted. "It feels as though a dark cloud has just dispersed, and we can bask under the sun once again."

"Are you sure Blaise got that memo?" Theo asked, and they both looked towards the dark-skinned wizard, who was studying in silence all by himself. "He's become really distant, Daph, and even I'm starting to worry. He doesn't even talk when it's just us boys together. The man's become a bloody statue, capable of only a few sentences a day."

"We have to be patient with him, Theo," Daphne advised, feeling sorry for Blaise. "After all that terrible business with his mother… You and I can't even fathom the pain he's in right now. We have to support him in any way we can, and just like Tracey, he'll come back too."

"Being patient isn't my forte, if I'm being honest," Theo sighed out, shaking his head. "But I'll try my best… For you, and for him."

"Thank you," Daphne smiled, deciding to reward Theo with a kiss on the cheek when they were alone. "Keep me in the loop about him, please. I want to make sure he doesn't owl Ron-"

"Forgive my interruption, you two," came Ductu's voice from behind them, and they both quickly turned their heads. "Can I speak with you, Greengrass? This is important." What does she want, now?

Ductu stood alone, which was a welcome sight as she was always with her fellow Silver Triumvirate members. Selwyn gives me the creeps, and Martyris is just downright annoying.

"Only if Theo can join us," Daphne answered, knowing deep down that he was cleverer than her. If she's planning to make a move, he'll see it coming. "Otherwise, I have homework that needs my attention."

"He can join us," Ductu said smoothly, smiling at Theo. "I see no reason as to why he cannot." What's with that friendly smile?

Theo lips twitched upwards, much to Daphne's chagrin. Boys… "I'd be delighted! Lead the way, gorgeous!" Ugh…

Ductu gestured them to follow her, and together, the three of them left the study group behind. It didn't take Daphne long to notice that Theo's eyes were glued to Ductu's jean-cladded arse, which made her regret bringing him along, but the strangest part was that Ductu seemed quite aware of it, but instead of chastising him, she was putting a little too much sway in her hips with every step. Did she do this with Ron every time she asked to speak with him alone? If so, I might have to introduce Ductu and her harlot friends to Jürgen.

They found a secluded spot behind the Herbology Section, and at last, Ductu turned to face them. "It's good to see the study group get together, again, but I must ask, why weren't the Silver Triumvirate invited?"

"It was open invitation, same as always," Daphne answered calmly, keeping her posture and voice levelled. "And let's not pretend that Martyris didn't know it was happening, shall we? I know she spends any and all free time gossiping."

Ductu's lips twitched upwards, her eyes locking with Daphne's. "The Ice-Queen. I must say, you're living up to your little moniker. I like that."

"The people who call me that know nothing about me," Daphne said, not showing her disdain for the unjust label put on her by envious girls. "Did you bring us here to make small-talk? Or, to find out why we didn't personally invite you to study with us?" Just tell me what you want, and let me get back to my studies.

"I want to know why both the first and second years failed to meet their weekly quota of House Points," Carey revealed, but Daphne kept her features perfectly devoid of emotion. Because I asked them to, of course. "You were right about Clara, Greengrass, she does spend all her free time gossiping around the school, but there's something about her that you don't know. She's far better at listening than she is at spreading rumours, and she's heard that you're the reason behind the first and second years suddenly turning lazy." Damn… How? Who could've told her that?

"Daphne, how could you?" Theo 'gasped' before she could respond, and both girls looked to him. "No, but in all seriousness, where did Martyris hear this, exactly? What makes you think that they would even listen to Daphne here? They are Ron's pets, not hers, and he isn't here to undermine you anymore."

"They may be his pets, but so is she," Ductu smiled pleasantly, but once again, she didn't get a reaction out of Daphne. "I know that you're upset over losing your spot, but to jeopardize the House Cup over such a trivial matter is going too far. Now, if Weasley isn't behind this, then you will stop what you're doing at once. You will listen to your elders, such is our tradition, and you will trust us to do right by you. Am I understood? I don't want this to escalate, Greengrass. I want Slytherin to remain united." United… You mean subservient to you, don't you?

"United, she says… No, what you really want is to appease Flint because he's a powerful Lord, now," Daphne said plainly, cutting right to the heart of the matter. "Why are you here, Ductu? Why aren't you saying these things to Flint right now? He's been running around the school, bullying anyone who gets in his way, and as a result, him and his goons have lost nearly a hundred House Points this week. Isn't that more important than making baseless accusations towards me?"

"Flint is a half-wit, and he will not listen to wise counsel, regardless of where it comes from," Ductu lost her smile, adorning a colder expression. "But his little power trip will come to an end soon, I assure you." Really? How? "I've been playing these games a little longer than you, Greengrass, and I've always been very good at predicting what comes next. Flint may be a powerful Lord, now, but that doesn't matter to me, because Lady Selwyn is one of my dearest friends. I have no reason to fear a thug such as him, but rather than confront him like you and your friends did, I'm content to watch him destroy himself. In the meantime, however, it falls to everyone in Slytherin to make up for his mistakes. That is what we do, what we have always done. We support each other, because no one else at this school will." Ductu then took a step forward, her finger lightly tracing Daphne's jaw. "I will do right by you and your friends, I promise. You just need to give me some time. That is all I'm asking for." She's good, I'll give her that, but I'm not buying it. She might not be afraid of Flint as we initially believed, but she is still too weak-willed to stand up to him-…

"If you want something done right, then you need to pay for it," Theo spoke up, and Ductu looked to him. "You want us to spend our spare time keeping the first and second years in line, but why should we? What do we get in return?"

"You get to win the House Cup," Ductu smiled, and Theo let out a condescending chuckle.

"We don't care about some fancy cup, gorgeous," Theo told her. "Do you have any idea how wealthy we are? I could have a House Cup constructed every week if I wanted to. No… What we want is less tangible, but infinitely more important. We want respect for our work, which means that we want our spot back. It's not just a couch in front of the fireplace for us, all right? It's a symbol of our importance to Slytherin's ongoing success."

"Very well, then," Ductu agreed, looking Theo up and down in a manner that irritated Daphne. "You get the first and second years to pick up their slack, and I will get you your spot back. I'll even let you select three Delegates of your own choosing, who can come to our weekly meetings and contribute their ideas. You will have respect, and you will have the Silver Triumvirate's gratitude." So, basically, we have to prove ourselves again. That's not happening. I'm not going to turn lackey for anyone, not even for tradition's sake. I want to prove to myself that I'm better than that, even if it means there's a good chance I'll fail horribly.

"We'll see what we can do," Daphne said, removing Ductu's finger from her chin. "'You just need to give us some time'."

Ductu's lips twitched upwards, a strange sort of fondness growing behind her eyes. "Witty and beautiful. I finally understand why Weasley was so taken by you." Don't you dare speak his name. If he were here, he'd have knocked your perfect teeth down your throat by now. "I will be on my way, then. Thank you for your understanding, and please, let us know when you convene the study group again. We'd love to join you."

With that, Ductu walked past them, smiling at Theo one last time before she vanished behind a tall bookshelf. Ugh… Daphne looked to Theo, frowning at the smug grin on his face. So much for asking Tracey out when she gets here!

"Did you enjoy staring at her arse, Theodore?" Daphne didn't hide her displeasure with his antics. "I'm surprised you didn't trip over your own two feet; such was your focus on it."

"She does have a very nice arse… Round and taut, just how I like them!" Theo 'squeezed' the air in front of him with both his hands, and Daphne immediately smacked his arm. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Pig," Daphne drew in a sharp breath, before shaking her head. "So? What do you think about what she said?"

"Oh, it was all a load of rubbish," Theo shrugged, leaning against the wall. "She's probably waiting for Snape to interrupt Flint's rampage, because once that happens, she and her friends will have an easier time establishing their rule. Saying that, though, I agree with her about not confronting Flint, as he's too stupid for his own good. Just look at what he did to you and Blaise last week."

"But Professor Snape rarely ever leaves his lab nowadays," Daphne started, and Theo nodded along. "Only Merlin knows when he'll put Flint in his place, and I really don't want to wait that long. It's only a matter of time before he comes for Malfoy, Theo. We can't afford to sit around and wait."

"No, we can't," came Blaise's voice, before he suddenly appeared in front of them. Fuck!

"Fucking hell…" Theo jumped a little, whereas Daphne went wide-eyed. "How long have you been standing there, you creepy bastard?!"

"I followed you three," Blaise replied, looking between her and Theo. "I wanted to make sure it wasn't a trap." We're in the Library, though… "We can't trust them, you two. Ron's worked too hard to be usurped by them in his absence. If he were here, he'd shut them down without hesitation."

"Yes, well, he's not here, is he?" Daphne sighed out. "And unlike him, we can't just fight the whole House on our lonesome. We have to be smart about this, Blaise, not angry." And, I don't want to do things his way… Father was right, I still feel wretched for disrespecting mother and Tori. I'm not like Ron and father, but that doesn't have to be a bad thing, right? Mother is different from them also, and she's one of the strongest people I know.

"Are we going to get the little ones to stop fucking around, then?" Theo asked, and Daphne gave a slow nod.

"They're onto us, so yes," Daphne replied, trying to think of another way to undermine the Silver Triumvirate. "We need to find a way to make the Slytherins regret turning back to the Silver Triumvirate, but how? Any ideas?"

"I have one, but it could backfire," Blaise said aloofly, staring through them. "Ron's brothers; the twins." The twins? I don't get it…

"Oh… Oh!" Theo smirked, his eyes lighting up. "That's rather devious, mate. I love it!" He then looked to Daphne. "You remember when the twins were targeting the Slytherins? Do you remember how fucking infuriating they were?" Daphne nodded. "But then, Ron got them punished, and everyone in Slytherin was beyond grateful to him for it. That's what we need to do, now! We need to get the twins to start pranking the Slytherins, again, and once everyone is at the end of their wits, we swoop in and put a stop to them! We'll be heroes!"

"I don't want to get Ron's brothers into trouble," Daphne refused, remember how sweet they were to her during the break.

"What? Why not?" Theo asked, whereas Blaise frowned. "They're twats, Daphne. They have it coming."

"She's too soft-hearted to do what has to be done," Blaise scoffed, his comment stung a lot more than she cared to admit. "Ron wouldn't be so weak." Pardon?! What's his problem with me?!

"Ease up there, will you?" Theo looked just as taken aback as Daphne. "We're on the same side here, mate."

"Are we?" Blaise asked her, and she frowned back at him.

"You're suggesting that we make our Housemates miserable, and get Ron's brothers into trouble, just so we can stick it to the Triumvirate," Daphne started crossly. "I'm sorry, but that's going too far for too little. I get that you're angry right now, Blaise, but that doesn't give you the right to take your anger out on those around you. Ron does that all the time, and I know you hate that about him just as much as I do. We'll find another way-"

"Wait, wait…" Theo cut in, letting out a long breath. "What if we convince the twins to target the Slytherins, and then, eventually, we convince them to stop? Why don't we make a deal with them? Ask them for their help rather than trick them?" That does sound much better to me than using them as pawns.

"And why would they want to help us?" Blaise asked in response, sceptical. "What do they have to gain by putting themselves at risk before their O. W. Ls?"

"The twins don't care about their studies," Daphne assured Blaise, Ron had told her quite a lot about the prank-loving pair. "They don't plan to get jobs within the Ministry, because they want to open up their own business. The hardest part about convincing them will be figuring out a reward… Only Merlin knows what would please them, aside from ruining someone's day."

"Maybe, that's reward enough?" Theo suggested. "Think about it… They hate Slytherin House, don't they? It's no secret, because they don't bloody hide it. If we offer them names and places, smuggle them information only Slytherins would know, they might take the bait. If they want to prank Flint, let's say, we tell them where to find him and when. It'll give them time to make more elaborate pranks, which I'm sure they'll appreciate." That could work, maybe…

"Let's think on this further when we're in your room," Daphne said, deciding it was past time they returned to the group. "We should get back before people wonder where we've gone, and I really don't want to be overheard when discussing something like this."

"Let's go, then," Theo said, whereas Blaise had already walked off. I really hope he gets his head out of his arse before it gets us all into trouble.

"Wait," Daphne whispered, taking Theo by the arm. "Before we go… Thank you."

"For what?"

Daphne simply smiled, before planting a kiss on the weedy boy's cheek. He smiled back quizzically, a smile which quickly turned into a smirk. There it is…

"You know, if I knew that good behaviour would land me kisses from you, I would-"

"Don't ruin it, Theo."

---

Lord Voldemort's POV

Friday 16th April, 1994 (Mount Tsakhvoa – Late Night)

"Your brother is taking longer than expected, Rabastan," the Dark Lord hissed, he was sitting with his most loyal around a large, stone table crafted via Transfiguration. "Was sending Bellatrix with him unwise of me?"

"Perhaps," Rabastan answered, smiling lightly. "My sister-in-law can be… eccentric, and is often easily distracted, but I assure you, Rodolphus' commitment cannot be doubted. He is gathering information vital to our shared cause on his trip; I am certain of it." His unwavering faith in his brother is almost endearing, but it is also his greatest weakness. Those who depend on others are always met with disappointment, as I myself have learned.

"Shall I search him out, my Lord?" Augustus asked, sipping wine from a stone goblet.

"No, not yet," the Dark Lord raised his own cup, and Lucius quickly scurried to his side, filling it to the brim. "And as it happens, I have a job for you, my old friend. One that is more important than any other. We will discuss it after supper, in private."

Augustus raised his goblet and gave a grateful nod, though his expression betrayed no emotions. He will do well in the role, I believe, if he has not lost his talent for espionage. With him in position, Magical Russia will kneel before me soon enough.

"And what of me, my Lord?" Rabastan asked, still smiling. "I must admit, I am beginning to feel restless living inside this cave. Please, put me to work as well. I wish to prove my worth to you once again."

"And you will, but only when I decide," Lord Voldemort's eyes flashed red, and Rabastan promptly bowed his head. "Russia's underworld is large and brimming with opportunity, there is gold to be made and wands to be hired. Once we have gathered more support from Russia's Pure, I will send you and Ian to negotiate from a position of power. Hire those who wish to serve, and enslave those who refuse." Lord Voldemort then looked to Ian Mulciber; the pallid man was just staring at the table with unblinking eyes. "Are you listening, Ian? I will have work for you soon."

The man remained silent, not even acknowledging his Master's presence. I would look into his mind to read his thoughts, but agitating him might result in him placing the others under the Imperius Curse. Of all my loyalists, including Bellatrix, Ian is easily my most potent weapon. I would be wise to keep him satisfied.

"Ian's cup is empty, dog," the Dark Lord hissed, shooting Lucius a murderous glare.

"A-At once, m-my Lord…" the broken man whimpered, his clothes and hair covered in grime.

Lord Voldemort smiled cruelly as he watched Lucius struggle to gain Ian's interest, fighting the urge to bombard the coward with the Cruciatus Curse. To think that his father was amongst my most useful and loyal… How far this apple fell from the tree. I imagine his son is just as worthless as he is. I will enjoy killing them both when the time comes, regardless of what Corban has to say-…

"Dinner is served!" Philip's voice rang around the make-shift room, followed by him making his entry.

The Dark Lord sat up straighter, as did the others, watching the excited Philip move around the table, placing plates before each and every one of them. What has he cooked up, now? Lord Voldemort stared down at the cooked snails upon his plate, piquing his curiosity. Grotesque, and yet, sophisticated.

"For the entrée, I give you escargots," Philip presented, grinning down at his Master. "This particular species is known as Helix Pomatia, though the commoners would simply refer to them as Burgundy Snails. And, as the name suggests, they do in fact come from Burgundy, harvested and preserved at the beginning of their winter fast." Burgundy? Did he-…? No, he must have found them at some shop, which means that he's been disobeying my command to stay hidden from the world.

"They smell delicious, my friend," Augustus praised, and Philip gave him a deep nod. "You spoil us."

"And you continue to risk your life and freedom over pointless endeavours," Lord Voldemort chastised, which didn't seem to bother Phillip in the slightest. "How many Muggles have you killed in the last two weeks?"

"Twenty-three," Phillip's voice brimmed with pride, and the Dark Lord drew in a sharp breath. Damn fool! He will lead the Russian Aurors right to our doorstep! "It'll be twenty-four tomorrow morning, though. My Lord, I have been following the most beautiful woman… Every morning, she stops by a pond to feed the ducks and to keep the old folk company. Such a caring and gentle soul. I'm going to place the old folk under the Imperius Curse and have them drown her. And then, I will nick the ducks for tomorrow's dinner! Oh… I love it when everything comes together. Don't you?" The Dark Lord looked around the table, noticing that even Ian looked slightly disturbed, now. Did I make a mistake by freeing him? His need to feed his compulsions could undo our need for secrecy-… "My lamb! Shit, my lamb must be burning by now! Get out of my way, you dirty fuck!"

Philip shoved the starved Lucius to the floor, running off to his 'kitchen'. I need to put him to work as soon as possible. Him having spare time on his hands is dangerous to my plans.

"These are quite delightful," Augustus commented, already enjoying the entrée. "We need to do something about the chef, however." We certainly do. "He is beginning to lose his patience with us, my Lord. I can see it in his eyes." He stares at us as though we are his next meal. It's beginning to vex me.

"My Lord, perhaps it is time for Lord Travers to leave the region?" Rabastan suggested in a whisper, and Lord Voldemort nodded his agreement. "I remember that Lady Agapov has a love for inflicting twisted violence upon younger women. The two of them may find… common ground… because of their mutual interests." Lady Agapov, you say… A craven old harpy, but he is not wrong about her fetish.

"Wise counsel, Rabastan," Lord Voldemort commended, making up his mind. "The day after tomorrow, I will send Philip to court her allegiance. He will bring her into the fold, or, he will carve out her lungs. Either way, her estate and wealth must be added to our own coffers." Rabastan gave a nod, while Augustus took Ian's untouched plate for himself. "Let us eat, now. We wouldn't want our chef to take offence, would we?" Philip will deal with Agapov and her sons, Rabastan and Ian will conquer Magical Russia's underworld, and Rodolphus and Bellatrix will lead our forces. And as for Augustus, he will bring all my plans for this country to fruition. I may have lost Magical Britain, but it is only a matter of time before I regain it. I will revenge myself on Potter and Dumbledore, no matter how many lives I have to take! No matter how many countries I have to burn to the ground!

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Author's Notes: Cyka blyat!